#when will i stop talking like shut up my god the tags are going to be LONGER THAN THE FIC

[gardenladysworld]

Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining, NSFW, human x Na'vi, size difference

Summary: In the breathtaking, untamed beauty of Pandora, two souls from different worlds find themselves drawn together against all odds. Neteyam, the dutiful future olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan, is bound by the expectations of his people and the traditions of his ancestors. She, a human scientist with a love for Pandora’s wonders, sees herself as an outsider, unworthy of the connection she craves.

So basically this part is a full smut. But here we are :')

Tags: @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog, @ratchetprime211, @poppyseed1031, @redflashoftheleaf, @nikipuppeteer@eliankm, @quintessences0posts, @minjianhyung

Part 18. vol 2: To remember

Part 19: To carry

You drag the brush through your damp hair, wincing slightly when it snags on a knot. Your muscles still ache in the best way possible, a dull throb deep in your bones that makes you feel flushed all over again. It’s been hours since you left the hut with Neteyam, hours since his lips were on you, since his hands—

The door to your quarters slams open so violently that you nearly jump out of your chair.

Kate strides in like she owns the place, eyes locking onto you immediately. Before you can even protest, she shuts the door just as aggressively, spins on her heel, and plants her hands on her hips.

"Spill," she commands.

You blink. "What—"

"Don’t play dumb," she cuts you off, pointing a finger at you like you’re on trial. "I know damn well you weren’t here last night, and I know Neteyam didn’t walk you back like you two promised Norm."

Shit.

Your heart kicks up, heat creeping up your neck. "How do you—"

"Because Norm was confused as hell when you weren’t at breakfast," Kate smirks, crossing her arms. "So I may have told him you got back late, crashed, and overslept."

Your jaw drops. "What?!"

"You’re welcome, by the way," she says, looking far too pleased with herself.

"Kate!"

"What? Did you want him to know you were out all night getting railed by the chief’s son?"

Your face burns instantly. "Kate! How do~?!"

She grins like the menace she is and flops onto your bed, leaning back on her elbows. "So? Tell me everything."

You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Oh my God—"

"Uh-uh," she tuts, kicking at your leg. "Don’t act all shy now. I just covered for your ass. The least you can do is tell me how it was. And don’t lie—I can see it all over your face. You’re glowing like one of those bioluminescent plants on your desk. And your neck…" She pointed towards the few lovebites what was left by Neteyam.

You exhale sharply, dropping your hands to your neck. Kate’s not going to let this go. And, honestly… maybe you do need to talk about it.

Because, holy shit.

You clear your throat, still avoiding her eyes. "We… we started heading back."

"And?"

You swallow. "And… we got a little distracted."

Kate squints. "Define distracted."

Your stomach flips just thinking about it. The feel of Neteyam’s hands on your waist, the way his lips traced over your jaw as you kissed him back, lost in each other—

You shift in your seat. "We started kissing and, um… we never actually made it back."

Kate’s eyes widen. "Oh, bitch."

You let out an embarrassed laugh, pressing your cool hands to your flushed cheeks. "Okay, so we were walking back, just like we promised Norm," you begin, setting your brush down as you turn toward her. "But then we stopped for a second—you know, to talk..."

Kate groans, flopping back dramatically. "Oh, this already sounds like the beginning of a bad decision."

"Oh, it was," you laugh, shaking your head. "One second, we were kissing. The next I was on his ikran towards the hut.

Kate’s eyes widen. "Wait, wait. To the hut? Outside? You little heathen."

"Listen, I didn’t plan for it to happen like that!" You defend, laughing. "But, you know, one thing led to another, and suddenly, we were stumbling back to the hunter’s hut instead of the outpost."

Kate smacks your arm. "So, you lied to Norm too!"

"I prefer to think of it as an unspoken change of plans," you tease, winking. "Anyway, once we got inside, it was over for me. He was all over me, Kate. Like, kissing me, touching me, whispering all this shit in Na’vi—I swear, I have never been this turned on in my entire life."

Kate fans herself. "Okay, okay, but tell me the real tea. How was it?"

Your grin turns positively sinful. "Insane. Like, I didn’t know I could come that hard. Whether he was eating me out or fucking me, it was just—Eywa, I think he ruined me."

Kate makes a strangled noise, her mouth open in shock. "Hold the hell up. He went down on you?"

"Oh, Kate," you sigh, shaking your head. "Not just 'went down on me.' He fucking worshipped me. He had me shaking, sobbing, gripping onto his braids like my life depended on it."

Kate looks like she might combust on the spot. "You’re lying."

"I’m not," you say, eyes wide with sincerity. "He had me coming in, like, two minutes. And then he just kept going."

Kate groans, burying her face in your pillow. "This is so unfair. Why do you get the ten-foot-tall sex god?"

"Because I deserve nice things," you quip, smirking.

Kate lifts her head, her eyes gleaming with pure nosiness. "Okay, but what about the main event? Like, how big are we talking?"

You pause for dramatic effect. Then, with a slow, knowing look, you simply say: "Big."

Kate gasps. "Like, scary big?"

You laugh. "At first? A little, yeah. But Neteyam was so gentle. He was holding himself back, trembling above me because he didn’t want to hurt me." Your voice softens slightly as you recall the way he shuddered, the way he pressed slow, reverent kisses to your skin as he waited for you to adjust. "He took his time, made sure I was okay every step of the way."

Kate sighs, clutching her chest. "Ugh, that’s so hot."

"But," you continue, eyes darkening with memory, "once I told him not to hold back? He lost it."

Kate’s jaw drops. "And?"

"And then he fucked me so good, I think I forgot my own name." You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. "I was gripping onto him, telling him how good he felt, and he just—ugh, Kate, the noises he was making? He was so deep, so strong, and when he came—"

"STOP," Kate wails, throwing a pillow at you. "I’m going to die alone, and it’s your fault."

You cackle, catching the pillow as she groans dramatically.

Kate sighs, shaking her head. "So, let me get this straight. You had the best night of your life, your hot alien boyfriend practically worshipped your body, and you’re sitting here acting like a normal person?"

"Trust me," you murmur, stretching slightly as you feel the dull ache still lingering between your thighs. "I am not normal right now."

Kate grins. "Damn right, you’re not. You’re the luckiest bitch alive."

You smirk, leaning back against your bed with a dreamy sigh. "Yeah. Yeah, I really am.”

You stretch your legs out on the bed, still grinning as you let your head fall back against the pillow, the memories of this morning making warmth pool deep in your belly all over again.

Kate, still lying beside you, turns her head toward you, her blue eyes gleaming with anticipation. "You’re holding back on me. I can feel it. What else happened?"

You hum, biting your lip, debating whether or not to keep talking. But then again, when have you ever kept anything from Kate?

So, you smirk. "Okay, so… this morning."

Kate immediately sits up, cross-legged, fully invested. "Yes?"

You sigh dreamily, running a hand through your still-damp hair. "He got up before me, right? And when I finally woke up, he was just sitting there, watching me with this stupidly soft look on his face. Like, full-on ‘you are my entire world’ eyes."

Kate clutches her chest dramatically. "Stop. You’re killing me."

You snicker. "And then—he brought me breakfast. Like, actual food. He went out and got fruit for me before I even woke up."

Kate gasps. "So, he dicked you down and took care of you afterward? Oh, he’s a fucking keeper."

You nod, grinning. "Right? And I thought, oh wow, how sweet of him, he’s letting me eat in peace—but no. That was just his way of making sure I had energy. Because the second I finished eating, he went down on me again."

Kate’s jaw drops. "No. Fucking. Way."

"Oh, yes way." You sigh, shivering at the memory. "Kate, I swear, he was starving for it. Like, I’ve never seen a man so desperate before in my life. It was like years of longing just…” you snap your finger “exploded all at once. Kate, I swear, I have never seen someone eat pussy with that level of dedication.”

Kate groans, flopping back down onto the bed, smacking a pillow over her face. "That is so unfair. So insanely unfair."

You laugh, tilting your head toward her. "I mean, not gonna lie, I thought I was gonna pass out. He just would not stop. I was literally begging him at one point, and he still wasn’t done."

Kate lifts the pillow off her face just enough to peek at you. "Begging him to stop?"

"Yes," you groan, throwing an arm over your face. "Like, I lost count of how many times I came, and he still wanted more.”

Kate lets out an inhuman noise. "I am suffering right now."

You grin, rolling onto your side to face her. "And the noises he was making? Holy shit. He was moaning, growling—at one point, I swear he was purring while his tongue was in me."

Kate slaps the bed. "I need a Na’vi man immediately."

You laugh, stretching your arms above your head. 

Kate is kicking her feet like a schoolgirl. "I need to sit down."

"You are sitting down."

"I need to sit down somewhere else and maybe touch some grass."

You laugh breathlessly. "His face was buried between my legs, and the noises he was making—Kate, I think he blacked out at one point. He kept mumbling shit like 'so sweet' and 'I need more' and 'I could stay here forever.' I was genuinely concerned he was never going to stop."

Kate groans into the pillow. "Did you die? Did you actually die?"

"Oh, I ascended. I left my body. Eywa had to personally send me back because I wasn’t supposed to go yet."

Kate wheezes, but you’re not done.

"And after, when I could finally breathe again, he just—he looked so fucking pleased with himself, all smug and satisfied. So, I was like, okay. My turn."

Kate’s eyes go impossibly wide. "You—"

You nod, grinning. "I went down on him."

Kate shrieks, rolling onto her stomach and kicking her feet against the mattress. "Tell me. Every. Single. Thing.”

You groan, flopping onto your back. "Yeah. And let me tell you—it was a fucking pain in the ass."

Kate frowns. "What? Why?"

You sigh dramatically. "Because of the goddamn mask, Kate. I had to hold my breath every time I pulled it off, and let me tell you—when you’re trying to fit a thick-ass ten-foot-tall Na’vi’s dick in your mouth while holding your breath, it is not easy."

Kate fucking howls, clutching her stomach as she laughs.

You shake your head. "I had to keep stopping to put my mask back on and breathe, but I managed. Somehow."

Kate wipes tears from her eyes. "I can’t—oh my god—you literally risked suffocating just to suck his dick."

You smirk. "And you know what? The noises he made made up for the lung-burning pain.” you continue, enjoying the way she looks like she’s about to die. "And when he came, he growled so deep I felt it in my fucking bones.”

Kate groans. "I cannot believe you’re living my dream right now."

You smirk. "Believe it, baby. It happened. And I can still hear those sounds he made. If I die tomorrow, just know I went out happy."

Kate sighs dramatically. "You’re officially my hero. And also, I hate you."

You giggle, stretching out on the bed. "I regret nothing.”

Neteyam barely steps into the family’s tent before Jake’s sharp gaze locks onto him. His father is sitting near the fire, sharpening a blade, but the moment Neteyam enters, Jake’s expression shifts—his keen eyes narrowing as he takes in his son’s appearance.

“You look like shit,” Jake comments, his tone neutral but laced with something pointed. “Where were you all night?”

Neteyam stills, his body instinctively tensing. He knew this was coming. He had been prepared for it—at least, he thought he was. But now, standing here, the weight of last night still wrapped around him like a second skin, he doesn’t want to ruin it. Doesn’t want to let this moment, this rare sliver of happiness, be tainted by the inevitable disapproval. So, he hesitates.

And Jake notices. His father’s jaw tightens. “I asked you a question.”

Neteyam exhales through his nose, keeping his voice measured. “I was out.”

Jake’s brow furrows, his ears flicking back slightly. “Out where?”

“Just… out.”

Jake sets the blade down with a sharp clank, standing up. “Don’t do that.” His voice is firmer now, carrying the weight of a man who has had to give orders his whole life. “Don’t stand there and dodge my question. I know you didn’t come back last night. So I’ll ask again—where the hell were you?”

Neteyam clenches his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm. He doesn’t want to fight. Not now. Not when his body still hums with the memory of her touch, not when he can still feel the echo of her breath against his skin. But his silence is its own answer.

Jake scoffs, crossing his arms. “You know, you’ve been a little too distracted lately. First, you’re sneaking off, now you’re staying out all night?” His expression darkens. “You need to be better than this, Neteyam.”

And that—that does it. Something in Neteyam snaps. His whole body goes rigid, his breath leaving him in a sharp exhale. “Better?” His voice is quiet, but the sharp edge in it makes Jake’s ears twitch.

Jake doesn’t back down. “Yeah. Better. You’re the eldest, Neteyam. You don’t get to screw around like this.”

Neteyam’s fists clench at his sides. His entire life has been spent being better. He has done everything asked of him. And yet—this one thing, this one thing for himself, and suddenly, he’s failing? The frustration that’s been simmering under his skin for years erupts like a storm. “I have always been better!” Neteyam’s voice rises, his breath shaking as he takes a step forward. “I have always done everything you asked, everything you expected of me!” His tail lashes behind him, his ears pinned back in anger. “I kept my siblings safe. I protected them, even when it meant taking the blame for their mistakes! I led the last Iknimaya yesterday without a single mistake!” His chest heaves. “And now—now, when I do one thing for myself, I’m suddenly the worst son ever?”

Jake’s expression hardens. “This isn’t about—”

“Yes, it is!” Neteyam cuts him off, his voice cracking with emotion. His breaths are ragged, his golden eyes burning with something raw, something heavy. “I have given everything to this family! Every damn moment of my life has been spent proving myself—to you, to the clan! And for what?” He lets out a bitter laugh. “So you can tell me I should be better?”

Jake’s tail flicks sharply, his own anger rising. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Then what did you mean, huh?” Neteyam challenges, stepping closer. His whole body is vibrating with unspent energy, his heart hammering in his chest. “Because I am so tired of this, Dad. Of never being enough. Of never getting to be anything other than what you need me to be.” His voice drops lower, filled with something vulnerable, something close to breaking. “For once—I just wanted something for myself.”

The tent is thick with silence, the only sound is their uneven breathing. Jake looks at him, his jaw clenched, his ears twitching as he processes his son’s words. And for the first time, Neteyam doesn’t care if he’s disappointed. Because this isn’t about proving himself anymore. This isn’t about what Jake wants. This is about him.

The silence between them is thick, heavy with words unspoken. Jake just looks at him now, his sharp golden eyes studying his son—really looking at him. And for the first time, he sees not a boy, not the eager child who used to cling to his every word, but a man. A man who is standing before him, chest heaving, fists clenched, his whole body trembling—not with fear, not with uncertainty, but with anger.

A man who has spent his whole life trying to be exactly what Jake expected. And for the first time, Jake wonders if maybe—maybe—he’s been expecting too much. Neteyam swallows, his jaw tight, his ears pinned back as he glares at his father. But beneath the anger, beneath the frustration, there’s something else—something that makes Jake’s stomach twist.

Something that looks an awful lot like hurt.

Neteyam lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You know what really pisses me off?” His voice is raw, strained, cracking at the edges. “It’s not the expectations. It’s not even the pressure.” His golden eyes burn as they lock onto Jake’s. “It’s the fact that no matter what I do, you always make me feel like it’s never enough.”

Jake stiffens.

Neteyam takes a shaky breath, running a hand through his braids in frustration. “I have always tried to be the son you wanted, the leader you needed me to be. I listened. I obeyed. I put my family, my siblings—the entire damn clan—before myself. I never once complained. Not once.” His voice drops lower, rough with emotion. “And you still look at me like I will never be the man you want me to be.”

Jake exhales through his nose, his expression unreadable. “Neteyam—”

“No.” Neteyam shakes his head, his hands balling into fists. “You don’t get to talk your way out of this. Because I see it, Dad. I see it in your eyes every time I make a mistake. The way you look at me, like I’m failing, like I’m not good enough.” He lets out a harsh breath, his shoulders shaking. “And the worst part? I believed it.” His throat bobs as he swallows, blinking rapidly. “I spent my whole life believing that no matter how hard I tried, I would never be the son you wanted me to be.”

Jake’s jaw tightens, something flickering behind his gaze. Neteyam lets out a broken laugh, shaking his head. “Do you know how badly I wanted to make you proud?” His voice cracks. “How much I needed to hear you say that I was enough?”

Jake swallows hard. Because fuck. He thinks back—to every time Neteyam took the blame for his siblings, to every time he stood tall, unflinching, unwavering, carrying responsibilities that Jake put on his shoulders. And now, standing here, looking at his son—really looking at him—Jake sees it clearly.

Neteyam never just wanted to be a good warrior, a strong leader, the perfect heir. He just wanted to be his father’s son. Jake lets out a slow breath, his shoulders easing as something inside him shifts. “Neteyam.” His voice is softer now, calmer.

But Neteyam doesn’t want calm. Not now. His ears flatten, his tail lashing behind him. “What? Are you going to tell me I should be better again?” His lips curl into a humorless smile. “That I should be the perfect son? The perfect leader? Because guess what, Dad—I am trying. I have always been trying.”

Jake’s expression shifts—his ears twitching, his lips parting slightly, like he wants to say something, like maybe—maybe—he’s finally starting to understand.

But Neteyam doesn’t want to hear it. Because he already knows the answer. His chest still tight with emotion, he shakes his head and turns away. “I have training to do,” he mutters. His voice is steady, but his body is rigid, his tail snapping behind him.

Jake watches him go, his face unreadable, his jaw locked. Neteyam doesn’t look back. He walks out of the tent, his breath heavy, his mind racing.

The younger warriors are already waiting for him, gathered in the training grounds. The same place he’s always been. The same responsibility he’s always carried. Once, he might have thought it was just another duty—another burden placed on his shoulders simply because of who he is.

But now?

Now, it’s his. They are his responsibility. His warriors. His lessons to teach.

The duty his father put on his shoulders. The responsibility that has always belonged to him. He is the eldest. The future leader. And no matter what personal battles rage inside him, he will do what is expected.

And as he steps forward to lead them, pushing down the lingering ache in his chest, he reminds himself of one thing— Even if his father will never see him for who he is, he will still stand tall.

The lab is dimly lit, humming softly with the quiet whir of machines, the faint glow of monitors casting long shadows over the walls. The others have long since gone to sleep, but he knows you haven’t.

You never do.

Neteyam moves easily through the outpost, ducking through the doorway and passing through the airlock with quiet familiarity. He’s been here enough times to know exactly where to find you. Past the main workstations, near the back corner where your massive desk is buried under notebooks, equipment, and scattered samples.

And there you are. Hunched over a microscope, completely lost in your work, oblivious to everything else. His chest tightens with something deep, something warm.

He missed you. He hadn’t realized just how badly he needed to see you until this moment. And it’s ridiculous, because he had you last night—finally, fully had you. And again this morning, wrapped up in you, touching and kissing and worshiping you until neither of you could breathe.

But it wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.

Neteyam steps closer, his large frame casting a long shadow over your workspace, but you don’t notice him. Your brows are furrowed, lips pursed in thought, entirely consumed by whatever sample you’re analyzing. He smirks slightly, shifting his weight before speaking. "You never sleep, do you, syulang?"

The sound of his voice shatters the silence. You jump so violently that you nearly knock over the entire microscope, a startled yelp escaping your lips. Your wide eyes snap up to him, your hand flying to your chest. “Holy shit, Neteyam!” you gasp, breathing hard. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Neteyam grins, but it quickly turns into a wince as you hurl the nearest object at him—a small vial of clear liquid. He easily catches it, holding it up with a smirk. "Throwing things at me now, ma’yawne?"

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" you accuse, still trying to calm your racing heart.

Neteyam chuckles, setting the vial down on the desk before leaning against it, his tail flicking lazily behind him. "You need to be more aware of your surroundings. What if I was a real threat?"

You huff, rolling your eyes as you retrieve your fallen notebook. "The only threat here is me deciding not to kiss you for scaring the shit out of me."

Neteyam gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "No kisses? You wound me."

You squint at him, suspicious. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"

His ears flick, the playful smirk still tugging at his lips. "Maybe a little."

You shake your head, sighing. "You are so lucky you’re hot."

Neteyam grins, leaning down until his face is just inches from yours. "Lucky, huh?" His voice drops, warm and teasing. "So you do think I’m hot."

You scoff, trying (and failing) to fight the smile pulling at your lips. "Obviously." You gesture to him, your eyes flicking over his broad shoulders, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "You are unfairly gorgeous."

Neteyam hums, smug. "Good to know."

You shake your head, exhaling, and then your expression shifts—your teasing smirk softens, your brows knitting together just slightly as you look at him. Really look at him. "You look troubled, love," you murmur, your voice gentle, but sure.

Neteyam stills. For a moment, he doesn’t move, caught off guard by how easily you see through him. How effortlessly you pick apart the pieces of him, no matter how well he hides them. He swallows, his golden eyes lingering on your face, before he steps forward, moving with quiet intent.

Your chair is small compared to him, the metal wheels scraping softly against the floor as she pushes herself away from the desk when he kneels before you. His massive frame folds with practiced grace, his strong arms sliding around your waist as he rests his forehead against your stomach.

Your breath hitches, but you don’t hesitate. Your hands move instantly to his head, fingers slipping into his thick braids, stroking, soothing. “What happened, my love?” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss against the crown of his head.

Neteyam exhales slowly, his grip tightening around you. And finally—finally—he breathes.

You don’t ask again. You just hold him.

Your small hands cradle his head, your fingers threading through his thick braids with slow, soothing motions. The steady rhythm of your touch is grounding, pulling him back from the storm raging in his chest. And then—softly, barely above a whisper—you begin to hum.

The melody is unfamiliar, but it’s gentle, warm, wrapping around him like a lullaby. Neteyam exhales, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as his body sags against you. The tension in his shoulders doesn’t fully leave, but it lessens—just a little.

Your lips press another soft kiss to his head, lingering there for a moment. “You don’t have to tell me,” you murmur, voice quiet, patient. “But I’ll be here if you need me.”

Something in Neteyam clenches at that. At how easy you make it. You don’t push, don’t demand answers, don’t pry at the wounds he isn’t ready to expose. You just hold him, letting him exist in this moment without expectation.

His breathing slows. Your hands begin to move, sliding down from his hair to his shoulders, your small fingers pressing gently against the tight muscles there. Your touch is featherlight at first, testing, before you start working out the tension coiled beneath his skin.

“My strong warrior,” you coo softly, kneading at the knots in his shoulders, coaxing the stiffness away.

Neteyam shudders. A quiet, shaky exhale slips past his lips. He doesn’t know how to say it—how to tell you that this, you, are the only thing keeping him together right now. So he doesn’t. He just holds you tighter, pressing his face deeper against your stomach, breathing you in, letting your warmth settle into his bones.

You don’t say anything at first—just let him breathe, let him exist in the quiet safety of your touch. Your fingers continue their slow, gentle movements over his shoulders, kneading away the tension that lingers there. The weight of him against you is grounding, and you can feel the way his body slowly relaxes, melting into your warmth.

But you can also feel the storm still lingering beneath the surface—the way his grip on you is just a little too tight, the way his breathing is steady but not quite even.

So, you do what you know he needs.

You start talking.

Softly.

Gently.

Filling the silence with something light, something safe.

“So,” you murmur, fingers tracing idle circles over his skin, “I finally got some readings back on the plant samples Norm brought in yesterday.”

Neteyam hums against you, a wordless sound of acknowledgment. You smile, pressing another absentminded kiss to the top of his head before continuing, keeping your voice quiet, soothing.

“It’s interesting,” you muse, letting your fingers drag down the strong lines of his back before smoothing over his shoulders again. “The bioluminescence is stronger in the younger samples, but as they mature, it seems to fade. Almost like they outgrow it.”

Neteyam shifts slightly, pressing his forehead a little firmer against your stomach. “Strange,” he murmurs, voice low, rough from exhaustion.

You hum in agreement, continuing your slow massage. “Yeah. We’re thinking it might be a defense mechanism—something to deter herbivores when they’re still small and fragile.”

Another hum from him, deeper this time. Encouraged by the way his body is slowly unwinding, you keep going, letting the soft cadence of your voice distract him, pull him from whatever dark thoughts he’s been trapped in.

“I had to run a few more tests, though,” you continue, smiling slightly to yourself. “And of course, Brian managed to spill half a vial of solution all over my desk, so I had to clean that up before I could even start.”

Neteyam lets out a quiet, tired huff against your skin. “Clumsy.”

You grin. “Right? I swear, for a scientist, that man has zero coordination.”

His tail flicks lazily against the floor, the tension in his muscles fading little by little. You keep talking, filling the air between you with easy, gentle words. And Neteyam—whether he responds with a hum, a quiet murmur, or simply the way his arms tighten around you—just listens.

You keep talking, letting your voice stay soft, soothing, your fingers working methodically over the knots in his shoulders. Neteyam doesn’t move, doesn’t interrupt—just breathes against you, his arms locked around your waist as if holding onto you is the only thing keeping him together.

"So," you murmur, letting your fingers trace along the curve of his traps, "Kate noticed something was off with me today."

That gets a reaction. Neteyam’s ears twitch slightly, but he doesn’t lift his head. He just lets out a slow breath against your stomach. You smirk. "Actually, ‘noticed’ is an understatement. More like she interrogated me like a damn FBI agent."

Neteyam hums, barely lifting his head enough to mumble, "What is FBI?"

You grin, fingers kneading into another stubborn knot. "Doesn’t matter. The point is, she knew. The second she saw me this morning, she was all over me, demanding details. You should have seen her, Neteyam. She was relentless."

One of his hands rubs absent circles against your lower back, and you feel his exhale before he speaks. "What did you tell her?"

You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see it. "What do you think I told her? She covered for me with Norm, so I kind of owed her. And, well..." You pause for dramatic effect. "Let’s just say she knows exactly why I was late today."

Neteyam groans, shifting slightly against you. "Skxawng," he mutters under his breath, the sound vibrating against your skin.

You grin. "Oh, come on. Like I could have gotten away with saying nothing? She literally called me out for glowing."

That makes him lift his head—just enough to rest his chin on your stomach, peering up at you with a smug, lopsided grin. "Glowing?"

You flick his ear gently, rolling your eyes. "Yes, glowing. Her words, not mine."

Neteyam just smirks, golden eyes gleaming as he watches you. "So, you told her everything?"

You arch a brow. "Maybe." Then, leaning down slightly, you lower your voice to a playful whisper. "Just enough to make her die of jealousy."

His tail flicks lazily behind him, his ears twitching under your touch. "And what exactly did you say, syulang?"

You sigh dramatically, letting your fingers continue their slow, soothing work on his shoulders. "Oh, you know. Just that I could barely walk this morning thanks to someone big and persistent."

Neteyam growls, the sound low and playful, and you can’t help but giggle. His hands tighten slightly on your waist, his tail flicking again. You grin down at him. "My whole body is still sore," you add, flicking his ear again for emphasis. "So, thank you for that."

His smirk deepens, his ears flicking forward in satisfaction. "You are welcome, yawne."

You scoff, playfully rolling your eyes. "I wasn’t thanking you, skxawng. I was complaining."

Neteyam just hums, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Mmm. You didn’t sound like you were complaining last night."

You groan, smacking his shoulder lightly. "Oh my Eywa, shut up."

Neteyam chuckles, his warm breath brushing over your stomach as he squeezes your waist, pressing a lazy kiss just below your ribs. "Never."

And despite the exhaustion still lingering in his body, despite whatever weight had been pressing on him before he walked in here—right now, in this moment, he’s lighter. Because you are here. Because you see him. Because you know exactly what he needs, even when he doesn’t say a word.

You watch him in silence for a long moment, your fingers stilling against his shoulders as you take him in. His massive frame is still kneeling on the hard metal floor, his arms wrapped securely around your waist, his head resting against your stomach.

And it makes you frown.

"Neteyam," you murmur, your hands moving up to cradle his face gently. He barely lifts his head, golden eyes flickering up to meet yours. You sigh, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. "Get up."

He blinks, his ears twitching. "What?"

"The floor is too hard," you insist, pushing lightly at his shoulders. "Too cold. You can't just kneel here all night."

But he doesn’t move. His arms tighten slightly around you, his tail flicking once before going still. Your frown deepens. "Neteyam."

His jaw clenches for a second, but then, with a small sigh, he finally relents. You guide him up with gentle hands, pulling him toward you until he settles, shifting his weight to sit cross-legged in front of you. The moment he’s fully seated, you pull him in again, his head resting on your lap this time.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you run your fingers through his braids, watching how this massive, powerful Na’vi warrior—someone who so many look up to, who carries so much responsibility—clings to you like a lost child.

Your heart aches for him. You lean down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his temple, your fingers still weaving through his hair. "Want to stay with me for the night?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, gentle and careful, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment between you.

Neteyam stiffens slightly, but only for a second. Then, he exhales, melting further against you. His grip on your waist loosens just enough for his hands to slide down, resting against your thighs, grounding himself.

He doesn’t answer right away. But when he does, his voice is quiet, raw. "Yes."

You press another kiss to his forehead, letting your lips linger for a moment before pulling back. Your fingers continue their soothing path through his braids, feeling the tension slowly ease from his body.

Then, your eyes flick toward the wall where the Na’vi-sized exo-masks hang, right next to the airgate.

"Get your mask," you murmur softly, still combing your fingers through his hair. "I know the air here won’t hurt you right away, but you’ll need it."

Neteyam huffs softly, tilting his head to look up at you. "I don’t need it." But looking in your eyes he hums against but doesn’t move immediately. Instead, he nuzzles into your touch just a second longer before finally shifting, his golden eyes meeting yours with something unreadable in them.

Then, with a quiet exhale, he pulls himself up. His movements are slow, unhurried, like he’s reluctant to leave the warmth of your touch, but he eventually stands to his full height, stretching slightly before making his way toward the airgate.

You watch him carefully, your heart squeezing at the way his shoulders sag just slightly, the way his tail flicks in subdued exhaustion. Even in the dim artificial light of the lab, he still looks tired.

Not just physically. But in the way that makes your chest ache. You don’t know what happened today—he hasn’t told you yet. But you’ll wait. You’ll always wait for him.

Neteyam adjusts the exo-mask on shoulder as he walks back to you, his steps slow but sure. His golden eyes soften slightly when he sees you already on your feet, waiting for him. Before he can say anything, you grin, tilting your head playfully. "Come with me. I will show you my palace."

His ears flick in amusement at your teasing tone, but he follows without hesitation as you lead him toward your quarters. The outpost halls are dimly lit at this hour, the hum of machinery the only sound aside from your soft footsteps. Neteyam moves silently behind you, his presence warm and grounding. When you finally reach your door, your fingers hesitate for just a second before you press the keypad to unlock it.

As the door slides open, a sudden, unexpected nervousness creeps in. You step inside and glance over your shoulder at him. "I just realized… you’ve never seen my room before."

Neteyam ducks his head slightly as he steps through the doorway, his massive frame nearly filling the entrance. He straightens once inside, his golden eyes slowly taking in the space. "I know it’s nothing like the kelkus in the village," you murmur, watching him carefully. "But it’s mine."

Your quarters are spacious by human standards, but with Neteyam standing in the middle of the room, he looks comically large. The ceiling is high enough that he doesn’t have to crouch, but the furniture, the layout—everything is clearly designed for someone much smaller.

His gaze drifts around the room, lingering on the shelves lined with books, the soft glow of a lamp casting warm light over your desk, the small personal touches that make this space yours. But when his eyes land on your bed—neat, a bit small by comparison—he glances back at you, a silent question clear in his expression.

How could I fit there?

You see the thought forming before he can voice it, and before he can ask, you answer with a grin. "I’ll make a bed on the floor. So we can sleep together."

Neteyam’s brow furrows instantly. "No. You should sleep in your bed. It is soft. I will be fine on the floor."

Your expression shifts, a knowing look crossing your face as you cross your arms. Neteyam doesn’t even need to hear your reply—he can already see the stubborn determination written all over you.

He sighs. "You are not going to let me win this, are you?"

You shake your head, smirking. "Not a chance."

Neteyam exhales through his nose, a defeated but fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Eywa, he thinks, how did I ever stand a chance against you?

Neteyam watches in quiet amusement as you move around your room, gathering blankets and pillows with an easy familiarity. There’s a softness in your movements, a quiet care as you arrange everything on the already carpeted floor, making it feel like a proper sleeping space instead of just cold metal. He notices the small details—the way you fluff the pillows just a little extra, the way your fingers smooth over the fabric like you’re making sure everything is perfect.

The sight warms something deep inside him. When you finish, you step back, surveying your work with a pleased smile. Then you turn to him, your tiny form sitting cross-legged on the makeshift bed as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

"Now it’s ready." Your grin is radiant. You pat the thick blanket beside you, your eyes twinkling with invitation. "Come here, love."

Neteyam doesn’t hesitate.

He lowers himself onto the blankets, folding his massive frame beside you with surprising grace. The moment he’s close enough, you curl into him, tucking yourself against his chest. His arms wrap around you instinctively, his body relaxing for the first time since he left the village. The steady, comforting weight of you against him is grounding, and he lets out a quiet, contented breath.

For a while, you both just exist like this—wrapped up in each other, warm and safe. He can feel your breathing, the subtle rise and fall of your chest, the gentle way your fingers trace idle patterns against his side.

But then—you start to squirm.

Neteyam hums in mild protest, tightening his arms around you. "Where do you think you’re going?"

You laugh, wiggling against his grip until you manage to slip free. "I need to take a bath."

Neteyam raises a brow, his tail flicking lazily behind him. "Now?"

"Yes, now," you insist, pushing yourself up. "I stink."

He tilts his head, a smirk playing at his lips. "I don’t mind."

You roll your eyes, shoving at his shoulder playfully. "Well, I do. But I’ll be quick."

Before he can argue further, you’re already on your feet, bolting toward the door on the other side of the room. Neteyam huffs a quiet chuckle, watching you disappear behind it. His golden eyes linger on the closed door for a moment before he shifts onto his back, staring at the ceiling with a soft sigh.

He hadn’t realized how much he needed this—how much he needed you.

Neteyam sits cross-legged on the floor, his sharp eyes quietly scanning your room as he waits for you to return. The unfamiliar space feels strange yet oddly comforting, filled with little details that are so you.

His gaze drifts to your bed first. It’s small, the mattress raised off the ground on some kind of human-made frame. A few soft-looking things rest against one side—round and colorful, with stitched-on smiles. He tilts his head slightly, curious. What are those? Some kind of sleeping companion? He huffs a quiet chuckle at the thought. Humans always have strange customs.

Shifting his attention, his eyes find the opposite side of the room. Your desk. It’s massive compared to the rest of the space, almost chaotic with how many books and small trinkets clutter the surface. The shelves above it are no different, stacked with even more books, old notebooks, and glass vials filled with preserved plant samples.

And then—his eyes catch something else.

A wall of photos.

He leans forward slightly, studying them. There are a few with your colleagues, arms thrown around each other, grinning at the camera. You look happy in them. Carefree. His lips twitch into a small smile at the sight. But then—his gaze lands on an older photo. A much younger version of you stares back at him, standing next to a smaller boy. He is grinning wildly, one arm slung around your shoulders as if the two of you were inseparable.

Neteyam’s chest tightens.

He remembers this boy.

Your little brother. The one who died along with your parents when they were in a car. You never speak about them—not in detail. He knows it still hurts. Knows it’s a wound that never fully healed.

For a moment, all he can do is stare at the picture, taking in the way your younger self leans into your brother, how effortlessly happy you both look. He wonders if you still dream about them. If their voices still echo in your mind when you’re alone. If the weight of their absence lingers in your heart the same way his own burdens weigh on his shoulders.

A quiet sigh escapes him as he forces his gaze away. That’s when he spots it. An old, worn sketchbook tucked among your things. Recognition sparks in him instantly. He knows this book. Three years ago, when you first started visiting the village after your arrival, it was always in your hands. You carried it with you everywhere, constantly flipping it open to sketch the world around you.

He reaches out, careful as he lifts it from its resting place. The cover is slightly frayed from years of use, the edges soft and worn beneath his fingertips. Gently, he opens it.

The first few pages are filled with detailed sketches of atokirina, the small, luminescent woodsprites sacred to the People. He remembers when you showed him one of these drawings, excitement shining in your eyes as you described how you had seen one deep in the forest.

The next pages are filled with plants—Pandoran flora drawn with such careful precision that it’s almost startling. Then, animals. Creatures from the forest and sky, all captured with an artist’s touch, their movements frozen in ink and graphite. As he flips through, a strange warmth spreads through his chest. You were always watching. Always observing. Always admiring everything around you.

Then—near the end of the book—he finds something that makes him still.

A drawing of him.

It’s different from the others. More detailed, more intentional. While the other sketches feel like quick studies, like you were capturing fleeting moments, this one is deliberate. Precise. Every line, every shade of graphite etched with careful attention.

His breath catches slightly.

This is not something you drew in passing.

This is something you studied. Something you spent time on. His younger self stares up at him from the page—strong and proud, his braids falling over his shoulders, his expression thoughtful yet serious. He looks… regal. Almost noble. And suddenly, he realizes—this sketch must be years old. You haven’t carried this book in a long time.

Which means… You were drawing him before you were together. Before you were anything more than acquaintances.

Something warm, something deep and overwhelming unfurls in his chest. How long, ma’tanhi? How long have you seen me like this? His fingers brush over the page, lingering on the details of his face—the curve of his jaw, the careful strokes that form his braids. A small, almost disbelieving smile ghosts over his lips.

He thought he was the one who watched you. Who admired you from afar, who secretly memorized your every movement, your every smile.

But you had been watching him too. And you had been seeing him long before he ever realized it.

Neteyam quickly shuts the sketchbook, hurriedly placing it back where he found it as the sound of the water shutting off reaches his ears. His heart pounds for an entirely different reason now, the warmth in his chest still lingering from what he found inside the old pages.

Just as he settles back, pretending to be focused on something else, the bathroom door creaks open.

He looks up—And immediately forgets how to breathe.

You step out, steam curling around you like a veil, your hair piled into a messy bun on top of your head. Your skin glistens slightly, still damp from the bath, and the only thing covering you is a single, small towel wrapped around your body.

Neteyam’s ears flick back as heat floods his entire face, his blush darkening to a deep shade of purple. His eyes flicker away for a moment, then back—just for a second—before he quickly looks elsewhere, his jaw tightening as he struggles to keep his composure.

You notice instantly. A slow, teasing smile tugs at your lips as you saunter forward, your bare feet padding softly against the floor. His ears twitch again, his tail curling slightly behind him, and you bite back a laugh at how utterly caught he looks.

The mighty warrior, completely undone by you. When you reach him, you lean down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against his lips. He stiffens slightly, caught between wanting to touch you and keeping his hands firmly in his lap.

Then—your voice, soft and playful against his lips.

"Do you like me?" A simple question. Innocent, yet filled with mischief.

Neteyam exhales sharply through his nose, his golden eyes half-lidded as he fights the urge to drag you onto his lap, towel be damned. His hands clench against his thighs, his self-control hanging by a thread.

"You know I do," he murmurs, his voice lower than intended, rough with restraint.

Your smile widens slightly. "Are you sure? Because you look like you’re in pain, love."

He groans softly, his head tilting back slightly as he closes his eyes, as if pleading to Eywa for patience. "You are testing me, tanhì."

You hum, feigning innocence as your fingers gently trace over his jawline. "Maybe just a little."

You smile at him, your fingers tracing softly along the edge of his jaw before your gaze flickers downward. His fists are clenched tightly on the thick blanket beneath them, his knuckles taut with restraint.

"You know you can touch me," you whisper, your voice gentle, coaxing.

Neteyam swallows hard, his golden eyes flickering up to yours, something raw and vulnerable swirling in their depths. But still, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t reach for you. His body is tense, as if he's afraid that if he does, he won’t be able to stop.

You lean in, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead, the warmth of your lips melting against his cool skin. "I love you so much," you whisper, your breath brushing over his temple as your small hands slide up his arms, tracing the firm muscles before wrapping around his head, holding him close.

The moment you do, Neteyam exhales, his body shuddering as his forehead comes to rest against your collarbone.

Your scent surrounds him—warm, clean, familiar. The lingering freshness of soap clings to your damp skin, mingling with the natural scent of you. He inhales deeply, breathing you in, his arms finally loosening at his sides.

But the storm in his mind doesn’t quiet.

His thoughts are a tangled mess, everything from his argument with his father to the moment he stepped into your room swirling chaotically in his head. It’s too much, too fast. He doesn’t even know what he’s thinking, only that he feels—everything.

The weight of his father’s disappointment. The frustration, the anger, the exhaustion. But also you. The comfort of your presence. The way your hands move over him, slow and deliberate, smoothing over the tension in his shoulders.

"How can I ease your mind?" you whisper, your fingers still combing through his braids, your voice soft and patient.

Neteyam’s lips part, his breath stalling in his throat.

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what will quiet the storm, what will stop the twisting in his chest. He doesn’t even know why he feels the way he does.

And so, without thinking, without meaning to—he asks the first thing that comes to his mind.

"What is cat?"

The words slip from his mouth before he can stop them, and the moment they do, he stills.

You blink.

"What?"

"What is a cat?" he repeats, this time with more hesitation, realizing how nonsensical the question is in the middle of all this.

For a second, there is only silence. And then—A small giggle. His ears flick up, confused, until he feels the way your body shakes slightly against his.

"Oh my god," you mumble, your voice filled with amusement as you press your lips together, clearly trying to hold back laughter. "You're talking about last night, aren’t you?"

Neteyam frowns, confused. "Last night?"

"Yes," you snicker. "After sex, when I said you were like a big cat because you were purring."

His ears flatten slightly in embarrassment. "I do not purr."

You lose it. A loud laugh bursts from your lips, full and unrestrained, and Neteyam immediately huffs in protest, his tail flicking in irritation. "Oh, you definitely do," you tease, grinning as you pull back just enough to look into his eyes. "It was the cutest thing. I’ve never heard a Na’vi purr like that."

Neteyam groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, as if that will somehow protect him from your teasing. "You are impossible."

"And you are adorable."

He growls softly, nipping lightly at the skin of your shoulder in retaliation, but his lips curl into the smallest, most reluctant smile against your skin. For a moment, just a moment, the weight on his shoulders feels a little lighter.

Neteyam watches as you step away, walking toward the tall shelf across the room. His ears flick forward, tracking your movements, but when you rise onto your tiptoes, reaching for something on the highest shelf—

Eywa help him.

The towel around your damp body shifts, riding up just enough to reveal the soft curve of your bottom. His jaw tightens, his fingers clenching into fists on the blanket beneath him as he forces himself to look away. But he can’t.

His golden eyes remain locked onto you, his breath catching in his throat, and he has to bite back a groan at the sight. He is already struggling to keep his hands to himself, already battling the fire still lingering from the night before, and now—this? This?

"This is cruel," he mutters under his breath.

You finally grab what you’re looking for, a large, heavy book, and turn back toward him. He forces his gaze up—higher—meeting your eyes just as you grin mischievously. "This," you announce, "is an encyclopedia about Earth’s flora, fauna, and every other thing you could possibly imagine." You saunter back toward him, entirely unaware of how close he is to losing his mind, and sit down next to him on the floor, the weight of the book settling between you.

Neteyam exhales, steadying himself.

"And now," you continue, flipping through the thick pages, "I can show you what a cat is… if you’re brave enough."

That smirk. That wicked, teasing little smirk you give him—

Neteyam lets out a low, resigned sigh, his head tilting back slightly. "You are going to be the death of me, yawne."

You giggle, nudging his thigh with your knee. "Oh, hush. Come on, let's find the cat."

Neteyam huffs, his tail flicking behind him as he leans in, peering down at the book, though in truth, he’s only half paying attention. Because you are sitting so close, your bare skin brushing against his, your scent still fresh and warm from your bath, and he’s painfully, painfully aware that you are only wearing that tiny towel.

And worse? You know exactly what you're doing to him.

Neteyam watches as you flip through the thick pages, his tail flicking idly behind him. His curiosity is piqued, though he’s still acutely aware of the fact that you’re sitting so close—your bare skin brushing against his every time you shift.

"Why do you have a book like this?" he asks, his voice low, his gaze flickering between the pages and your face.

You shrug, not looking up as you turn another page. "I like to read it. And look at the pictures."

He hums in acknowledgment, glancing at the detailed images of creatures from a world he has never seen. His fingers twitch slightly, resisting the urge to trace the illustrations of massive forests, sprawling plains, and strange animals with thick fur and small eyes.

Then, your voice softens. "But most of the animals you’ll see in this book are already extinct."

Neteyam frowns, glancing at you. Your expression has changed—your playful smirk replaced with something sadder, something distant. "Extinct?" he echoes, brow furrowing.

You nod slowly, flipping through the pages with a bit more care now. "Gone. Wiped out. Either because of us—humans—or because their world changed too much for them to survive."

Neteyam watches the way your fingers linger on a page depicting a large beast with curved tusks and thick fur, standing in a frozen landscape. His ears twitch slightly at the way your shoulders sag just a little. "I am sorry," he murmurs, his voice gentle.

You give him a small, sad smile, shaking your head. "It's just... strange, you know? Growing up learning about all these animals, seeing their pictures in books and old holovideos, knowing I’ll never actually see one alive."

Neteyam stays quiet, absorbing your words. He knows what it means to lose something—someone. He knows what it means to be unable to go back. After a moment, you shake yourself out of your thoughts and brighten up again, turning to him with a small grin. "Some Pandora animals actually have Earth siblings, you know."

He raises a brow, intrigued. "Siblings?"

"Not real siblings, but they look alike," you explain, flipping through the pages again. "Like, the pa’li—they look a lot like horses from Earth. Same long legs, strong bodies, and fast runners. See?"

You stop on a page with an image of a sleek, four-legged creature with a flowing mane, standing tall in a vast field.

Neteyam tilts his head. "It does look like a pa’li."

You smile. "And then there were creatures like the Great Leonopteryx—on Earth, millions of years ago, we had things called pterosaurs. They weren’t exactly the same, but they were big, flying reptiles with wings."

Neteyam hums, genuinely intrigued now as you continue flipping through the pages, showing him different creatures that once roamed your world. Some are similar to Pandora’s animals, others unlike anything he has ever seen before.

"And now…" You turn a few more pages before stopping on a particular image, your eyes lighting up mischievously. "Here is your namesake, mighty warrior."

Neteyam leans forward to look— And immediately pulls back, blinking in disbelief. "What—" he scowls slightly, pointing at the small, fluffy creature on the page. "This? This is a cat?"

You burst into laughter at his reaction, clutching your stomach as you lean into his side. "Yes! That is a house cat!"

He stares at the picture, utterly baffled. The creature is tiny—soft-looking, with large round eyes and a short snout. Its ears are pointed, and it has a long, thin tail that curls at the end. "This little thing?" Neteyam gestures at the image, then back at himself. "You compared me to this?"

You are cackling now, shaking your head as you wipe at your eyes. "Well, not exactly this one—there were bigger kinds too! But, I mean, listen—cats purr, they’re sleek, they’re graceful hunters, and they can be moody as hell." You give him a pointed look. "Remind you of anyone?"

Neteyam’s ears flatten as he narrows his eyes at you. "I do not mope like a small, fluffy creature."

You grin, poking his chest. "You totally do."

He huffs, crossing his arms. "I am nothing like this ‘cat’ thing."

You sigh dramatically, resting your chin on his shoulder. "You say that, but you’re literally purring right now."

Neteyam stiffens.

His ears twitch.

His tail flicks behind him.

And then—

He realizes.

The soft, low rumbling in his chest. Just because of your closeness.

He is purring.

Your delighted laughter echoes through the room as Neteyam groans, covering his face with one large hand. You nudge him playfully, your grin wide and victorious. "Face it, my love. You’re a big, sexy cat."

Neteyam sighs heavily, shaking his head—but despite himself, he can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. "You are insufferable, tawtute," he murmurs, his golden eyes shining with amusement.

You beam up at him, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his cheek. "But you love me."

And Eywa help him—He does.

Neteyam watches as you turn the pages with practiced ease, finally stopping on another image. You shift the book toward him, tapping a slender finger against the page. "This is a tiger," you say with a knowing smile. "A bigger kind of cat. See? Even the stripes are identical."

His golden eyes drop to the image. The creature is undeniably powerful. Large, muscular, its body covered in sleek orange fur with bold black stripes running along its frame. Its head is broad, ears slightly rounded, and its gaze—though frozen in the picture—is sharp, intense.

Neteyam glances down at himself, at the deep blue stripes running along his own body. Then back at the image of the tiger. A slow exhale leaves him. "This one… I do not mind."

You let out a triumphant laugh. "I knew it! You are a big cat."

Neteyam huffs, shaking his head, but there’s amusement in his expression. He studies the tiger for a moment longer before looking back at you. "And this creature… was it a great hunter?" he asks, curiosity slipping into his voice.

You nod, excitement flickering in your eyes. "Oh, absolutely. Tigers were apex predators—meaning nothing hunted them. They were strong, fast, and incredibly smart. They could take down prey much bigger than them and were known to be patient hunters, stalking for the perfect moment to strike."

Neteyam tilts his head slightly, intrigued. The more you speak, the more he finds himself admiring this Earth creature.

"They were also solitary," you continue, your fingers tracing over the tiger’s image. "Unlike lions, which lived in groups, tigers preferred to roam and hunt alone. They were independent, proud, and deeply territorial."

Neteyam hums, his ears twitching slightly. "So… strong, intelligent, skilled hunter… and prefers solitude." He casts you a sly glance. "Now this, I can accept."

You grin, leaning in close, your chin resting against his shoulder. "See? I wasn’t wrong."

He chuckles, the low sound vibrating against your skin. "Perhaps not, yawne."

Your fingers reach up, brushing idly over the stripes on his bicep. "And tigers were beautiful," you murmur. "Just like you."

Neteyam’s chest tightens, warmth blooming in his core at your soft, genuine words. He turns his head slightly, looking down at you, his golden gaze warm and filled with something deeper—something reverent. "I only care to be beautiful in your eyes," he murmurs, his voice softer now, more intimate.

You smile, your lips brushing against his skin as you whisper, "Then you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." Neteyam exhales slowly, his heart thudding steadily beneath his ribs. And, as he watches you grin up at him, eyes bright with affection, he decides—

If being your big cat means he gets to hear you say things like that… He can live with it.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as Neteyam suddenly scoops you up, lifting you with effortless ease. "Neteyam—!" you squeak in surprise, but the sound is swallowed by a breathy laugh as he settles you onto his lap.

His long legs remain crossed as he pulls you flush against his chest, his massive arms wrapping around you securely. The heat of his skin seeps through the damp towel still wrapped around you, and you melt into his embrace, instinctively tucking yourself closer.

"You like to talk," he murmurs against your temple, his lips brushing against your skin. "And I like to listen. But I want you here while you do it."

A warmth spreads through your chest at his words, and you sigh, relaxing into him. You shift slightly, adjusting the book still in your hands, before grinning. "Alright, mighty warrior," you tease. "Then let’s see how much you can handle."

Neteyam huffs a quiet chuckle. "I have faced palulukan and nantang in the forest. I think I can handle a few Earth creatures."

You smirk, flipping the page. "We’ll see about that."

Your finger trails down to an image of a large, grey, wrinkled-looking creature with massive ears and long, curved tusks. "This is an elephant," you say, tapping the picture. "One of the largest land animals that ever lived on Earth. They were gentle but incredibly strong. They lived in herds and had deep family bonds. They were also really intelligent—able to remember things for years and even grieve their dead."

Neteyam hums, golden eyes studying the creature. "It is… strange-looking," he admits, tilting his head. "But wise. Like the angtsìk of Pandora."

You nod. "Exactly! The angtsìk are kind of like elephants, but with more legs and, you know, the whole six-eyes thing."

He smirks at your casual tone, watching as you eagerly flip to another page. "And this," you continue, "is a wolf. They hunted in packs, much like your nantang. They were incredibly loyal to their groups, working together to take down prey. But they were also affectionate, forming deep bonds with their families. Some were even domesticated by humans, evolving into dogs."

"Dogs?" Neteyam echoes, frowning slightly.

You laugh, flipping to another page with an image of a fluffy-looking canine. "Yeah. They became one of our best companions. Humans and dogs formed bonds so strong that they were considered family. Some were trained to help with hunting, others to protect. But mostly, they were just… loved."

Neteyam’s ears flick, considering this. "Strange… that a predator could become a companion."

You shrug, smiling. "Not so strange. You’re a predator, and I love you."

His breath catches slightly, and you glance up at him, smirking.

"See?" you tease. "Not so different."

Neteyam exhales through his nose, shaking his head in amusement. "You twist words too easily, yawntu."

"It’s a gift."

He chuckles, pressing a kiss against your damp hair before nodding toward the book. "Show me another."

You flip through the pages, continuing to tell him about creatures long gone, their stories preserved only in ink and memory. And as Neteyam listens—his arms holding you close, his deep voice rumbling with thoughtful questions—he realizes he could stay like this forever. Just you, your voice, and the warmth of your body against his.

Your voice is soft as you continue flipping through the pages, reading aloud about the animals that once roamed your home planet. Neteyam hums in response, his deep, steady breathing warm against your skin as he listens, his arms still wrapped securely around you.

But then—he shifts.

You barely notice at first, too focused on the book in your lap, but the way his hold on you tightens ever so slightly makes something stir in your stomach. His lips brush against your bare shoulder—just a whisper of a touch—but enough to make you falter for a split second.

You clear your throat, pretending to ignore it. "And this," you murmur, tapping another picture, "is a red panda. They were small, mostly found in trees, and—ah!"

A soft nip lands at the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Neteyam—" you huff, tilting your head slightly to look at him, but he’s already smirking, his golden eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Pay me no mind," he murmurs against your skin, lips grazing your shoulder again. "I am simply listening."

You narrow your eyes at him but choose to let it slide. With a small huff, you turn back to the book, flipping to another page. "Fine. Here—foxes. Now, these little guys were known for their cunning and intelligence—"

Another kiss. This time at the base of your neck. You inhale sharply, fingers tightening slightly on the book. "—for being clever and tricky. They were smaller than most predators but used their wits to survive—"

His nose nuzzles into your hair, his lips grazing just below your ear. "Neteyam," you warn, but your voice wavers slightly, betraying you.

He chuckles softly, the sound sending a thrill through you. "Go on, syulang. I am listening."

You exhale, pressing forward, determined to get through this. "Always causing trouble," you continue, voice a bit breathless. "Always outsmarting those bigger than them. And very, very beautiful."

Neteyam hums approvingly, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before whispering against your skin, "Then it is like you."

You blink. "What?"

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression warm and full of teasing affection. "The fox," he repeats. "Cunning, clever, small. Always causing trouble. Always outsmarting those bigger than them. And very, very beautiful."

Your breath catches, warmth blooming in your chest at his words. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. And Neteyam—satisfied with the way you suddenly look so flustered—grins, tightening his arms around you as he presses another slow, deliberate kiss to your cheek.

"What is it, syulang?" he teases, voice thick with amusement. "Did I render you speechless?"

You huff, rolling your eyes, but the smile on your lips betrays you. "Shut up."

Neteyam chuckles, resting his chin on your shoulder. "As you wish," he murmurs.

But the way his fingers slowly trace circles against your hip tells you that he’s far from finished.

Neteyam smirks faintly every time your voice falters—every time his lips find the right spot on your skin, making you pause mid-sentence. He enjoys how easily he can alter your thoughts, how just a few well-placed kisses are enough to make you forget the words you were reading aloud.

But what amuses him even more is that you have the same effect on him.

Your weight in his lap, the warmth of your body pressed against his, the soft rise and fall of your breath—it’s enough to pull him from the turmoil in his mind, grounding him in the present. The tension from earlier in the day, all fades into the background as you continue speaking, flipping through the pages of the book.

And yet—his thoughts begin to shift. He feels the way your thighs press against his, the way your damp towel clings loosely to your now dry skin, teasing him with glimpses of the softness beneath. His gaze flickers down, watching the delicate curve of your collarbone, the damp tendrils of hair clinging to the nape of your neck.

You wouldn’t say anything, but he knows you feel it—feels the way your breath hitches slightly, the way you shift just a little when you notice how hard he’s growing beneath you. Neteyam exhales slowly, his hands resting on your waist before sliding beneath the towel, his fingertips brushing over the soft skin of your stomach. You gasp softly, your fingers gripping the book a little tighter, but you don’t stop him.

Encouraged, his hand moves higher, his large palm spreading over your ribs before cupping your breast fully, his fingers flexing gently against the soft swell. And just like that—you go completely silent.

The book in your hands trembles slightly as your back instinctively presses against his chest, your body molding into him, as if surrendering to the slow, deliberate way he’s touching you. Neteyam hums in quiet satisfaction, his lips ghosting over your temple. "You were saying?" he murmurs, his voice deep, teasing.

But you don’t answer. And from the way his smirk deepens against your skin, you know he’s very, very pleased with that.

Neteyam tilts his head down, brushing his lips over the side of your neck, slow and deliberate. The warmth of his breath fans against your skin, and he’s pleased when you instinctively tilt your head, exposing more of your throat to him—silent permission, an unspoken invitation.

His lips press against your pulse, then lower, trailing slow, lazy kisses along the curve of your neck. He savors the way your body shivers slightly against him, the way your breath comes just a little faster. His fingers flex against your breast, his thumb dragging in slow, teasing circles over your already-hard nipple.

You bite your lip, looking away, your fingers curling slightly against the pages of your book. "It’s sensitive," you mumble quietly, your voice barely above a breath.

Neteyam hums in amusement, his lips curving into a small smirk against your skin. "Sensitive?" he repeats, his deep voice vibrating against your throat. His thumb brushes over the peak again, slower this time, just to see how you react.

You inhale sharply, your body twitching slightly in his lap, but you don’t stop him. "Hmm," he muses, kissing just below your ear, his voice filled with faux thoughtfulness. "You say that… but you’re not stopping me."

You let out a small, frustrated sound, squirming in his hold, but he only tightens his arm around your waist, keeping you still. "Neteyam," you sigh, half a plea, half a warning.

He chuckles against your skin, his nose nuzzling the spot just below your jaw. "What, sevin?" Beautiful. "Am I distracting you?"

You exhale sharply, rolling your eyes. "Obviously."

His thumb flicks over your nipple again, just to hear the small, unintentional gasp you let out. "You were telling me about these… foxes," he says, his voice dripping with amusement. "But now you’ve fallen awfully quiet, little one."

You swallow, trying to regain some sense of composure. "Maybe if a certain someone wasn’t touching me like this, I could actually finish my sentence."

Neteyam only hums in response, entirely unbothered, his thumb continuing its slow, teasing strokes. "Do you want me to stop?"

You hesitate. And he lives for that hesitation. "That’s what I thought," he chuckles, pressing another slow kiss to your shoulder, enjoying the way your body melts against his.

The book snaps shut so suddenly that Neteyam barely has time to react before you toss it onto the bed. Before he can ask what you're doing, you're already moving—turning in his lap, shifting until you're straddling his thick thighs. The towel that had barely clung to your body in the first place slips away completely, pooling onto the floor, leaving you bare before him.

Neteyam barely breathes.

Your warm, soft skin presses against his, your smaller frame fitting so perfectly against his massive form. His hands instinctively move to your waist, fingers tightening as if he needs to hold you there, needs to ground himself.

And then—you kiss him.

Hard.

A desperate, heated press of your lips against his, all urgency, all need. His breath stutters as he responds immediately, his large hands sliding down your back, gripping your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer. Your lips move together in a hungry dance, your fingers tangling into his braids, tugging just enough to make him groan into your mouth.

"I fucking missed you," you whisper against his lips, your breath hot and uneven. "Since you brought me back to the outpost, I haven't stopped thinking about you."

Neteyam exhales sharply, his golden eyes darkening as he grips you tighter. "I know, sevin," he murmurs, his voice rough, strained. "I missed you, too."

Your hands slide over his broad chest, feeling the way his heart pounds beneath your fingertips. You trail your lips down the sharp line of his jaw, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to his skin. Tiny bites follow each kiss, your blunt teeth scraping against the sensitive spots you know drive him crazy.

Neteyam growls low in his throat, his grip tightening on your waist. And then—you grind against him.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Your bare, dripping heat presses against the hardness beneath his loincloth, and a sharp, strangled sound rumbles from his chest. His ears flatten against his skull, his jaw clenching as his fingers dig into your soft flesh. "Tanhi," he exhales, his voice wrecked, strained with need.

Your lips curve into a smirk against his neck. "Yes, ma'Neteyam?" you purr, rolling your hips again, feeling the way his body tenses beneath you.

His control hangs by a thread. And you—his clever, beautiful, deadly little human—are about to snap it.

Neteyam exhales sharply through his nose, his grip on your waist tightening for a fleeting moment before he forces himself to loosen it. You're so soft against him, your warm, bare skin pressing against his in a way that should be comforting—is comforting—but his mind is still tangled in the remnants of the day.

Your nails graze over his shoulders, tracing along the strong muscles that are still taut with tension. "I want to help, love," you murmur, your voice soft, barely above a whisper. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply, breathing him in like his scent alone can soothe you.

Neteyam shudders. "You’re so tense," you continue, pressing a gentle kiss to his throat. "Ever since you walked in. You still didn’t tell me what happened. I don’t like it when you are so burdened." Your small fingers find his forehead, tracing over the deep-set furrow there, smoothing over his frown like you can erase the weight he carries with a touch alone. And Eywa, he wishes you could.

"Let me make you feel good," you whisper, tilting your head to press another soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his lips.

Neteyam swallows hard. His chest rises and falls in a slow, measured breath, but the heat of you—your scent, your warmth, the way your body molds so perfectly to his—it’s unraveling him piece by piece. His hands slide up your back, his fingertips dragging lazily over your spine, feeling the way you shiver beneath his touch. His voice is deep, strained when he finally speaks. "You already do," he murmurs. "Always."

But you’re not satisfied with that answer. You shift in his lap, rolling your hips with purpose, making a quiet, breathy sound when his hardness presses right against your soaked folds. Your nails dig in slightly against his shoulders, your lips brushing against his in a barely-there kiss.

"Then let me show you," you whisper.

Neteyam lets out a deep chuckle, his golden eyes glinting with amusement as he watches you fumble with the knots of his loincloth. Your fingers, so small compared to his, tug at the fabric in frustration, your brows furrowing in concentration.

"Need some help, syulang?" he teases, his voice rich and warm, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

You huff, shooting him a playful glare before nodding begrudgingly. "It’s not fair," you say with a pout, your fingers pausing as you let him take over. "Yours are always tied so damn tight."

Neteyam laughs, shaking his head before effortlessly loosening the knots with a few deft movements. You barely have time to react before his loincloth is discarded behind you, his hardened length finally freed. Your breath catches slightly as you glance down, and Neteyam catches it instantly. His smirk grows.

"What?” he murmurs, tilting his head, his ears flicking forward in interest. "Intimidated, yawne?" You scoff, rolling your eyes before shifting forward, letting your slick folds drag along his length in a slow, teasing grind. Neteyam groans, his hands tightening on your hips, fingers pressing into your soft skin as he watches you with dark, hooded eyes. "Eywa..." he breathes, his voice rough, strained.

You bite your lip, smirking as you press a slow kiss to his lips. "You’re so big," you murmur against his mouth, your breath warm, teasing.

Neteyam’s grip flexes, his tail curling behind him, the restraint in his body evident. His golden eyes burn as they flicker between your face and where your bodies are pressed together. "And yet," he growls, his voice low and full of challenge, "you take me so well, yawne."

A shiver ripples through you at his words, your fingers sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. "Then let me take you again," you whisper, your lips ghosting over his, your voice filled with nothing but hunger.

Neteyam groans, his grip tightening on your hips as he feels the desperate roll of your movements against him. Your slick folds glide along his hard length, coating him with your arousal, the friction making his breath hitch. "Please let me..." you practically purr, your voice dripping with need as you slowly reach down, your delicate fingers wrapping around his thick length.

His breath stutters as you lift yourself slightly, guiding him toward your entrance. His ears flick back, a flash of concern flickering across his face. "Syulang," he murmurs, his large hands bracing your waist, holding you still. "You’re still sore from this morning. If you go too fast—"

You silence him with a deep, lingering kiss, your lips soft but insistent against his. He melts into it instantly, groaning as your fingers tighten around him, lining him up with your dripping entrance.

And then, slowly, you sink down. Neteyam grits his teeth, his whole body tensing as you take him inch by inch, your warm, tight walls stretching around him once more. A strangled moan escapes your lips as your head falls forward, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

You’re still so sensitive—still raw from his love earlier—but you don’t stop. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you push past the lingering ache, determined to take all of him. You bite your lower lip, your brows furrowing as you adjust, as you stretch wide to accommodate his size.

Neteyam curses under his breath, his fingers flexing against your waist as he watches you, utterly transfixed. The sight of you—your face flushed, your lips parted, your body trembling as you take him so deeply—nearly undoes him.

"Ma’tanhi..." he breathes, voice rough with restraint, his ears pressing flat against his head. "You are—"

"Perfect," you whisper, finishing his sentence with a small, breathless smile. And then, you rock your hips.

Neteyam lets out a strangled whimper as your hips roll over him, the slow, torturous drag of your tight heat around him making his head spin. His grip on your waist tightens, blunt nails pressing into your soft skin as if trying to ground himself, to hold back the instinct to thrust up into you.

His golden eyes flicker toward the door for just a second, concern flashing across his face.

You notice. A small, knowing smile tugs at your lips as you lean in, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. Your movements don’t stop—your hips continue their slow, teasing grind against him, the delicious friction sending shivers down both of your spines. "Every room is soundproof," you whisper, your breath warm against his lips.

Neteyam groans, his whole body shuddering at your words. His restraint is already hanging by a thread, and the knowledge that no one will hear—that he can finally let go, fully and completely—makes something inside him snap. His hips twitch up involuntarily, sinking deeper into you. You moan—loudly.

The sound echoes in the small room, unfiltered, raw, and it sends a sharp wave of heat through both of you. Your eyes widen as a deep flush spreads across your cheeks. "Oh, fuck—"

Neteyam exhales sharply through his nose, his ears twitching, his expression darkening with pure need. His hands slide up your back, gripping you tighter, keeping you close as he leans in, his voice a low, rough murmur against your ear. "Again," he growls. And then, he thrusts up into you.

Your whole body trembles as you take every inch of him, your moans turning into desperate, broken cries with each deep, punishing thrust. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, your nails dragging across his blue skin as pleasure crashes through you in relentless waves.

"F-Fuck—Neteyam—"

He groans at the way you say his name, his ears flicking back, his golden eyes blown wide with hunger as he watches you fall apart above him.

"That’s it, yawne," he murmurs, his voice low and wrecked. "Take it. Take all of me."

His hands grip your hips tighter, guiding your movements, making sure you feel every inch of him as he fills you completely. Your body is so soft, so pliant in his hands, like you were made for him. And fuck, the way you squeeze around him—he swears he might lose his mind.

Your thighs burn from the effort of moving, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Not when he’s pressing into every perfect spot inside you, dragging pleasure from you so intense it borders on unbearable.

"You feel so good, ma’syulang," he groans, his head tilting back, his grip on you tightening. "So perfect around me—"

Your whole body jolts as he angles his hips just right, and you choke on a gasp, your hands flying to his braids for something—anything—to hold onto. "Oh, fuck—!"

Neteyam smirks, the sight of you writhing, completely at his mercy, sending a deep, primal satisfaction through him. "Right there?" he teases, rolling his hips again, hitting that spot with devastating precision.

Your breath shudders, your fingers tangling in his braids as you try to ground yourself, try to hold back the release building too fast in your core. "Neteyam—too much—" you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to slow down, to edge yourself, to drag this out— But you can’t.

"Don’t fight it," he growls, his voice thick with need. "Let go for me, yawntu."

"I—I can’t—"

"You can," he insists, thrusting up into you harder, deeper, keeping you exactly where he wants you. "Come for me."

The coil inside you snaps. A sharp, broken cry tears from your lips as pleasure crashes over you, your whole body convulsing, your nails digging into his shoulders as you shatter completely.

"That’s my girl," Neteyam groans, feeling you tighten around him, your walls pulsing in the aftershocks. "So fucking beautiful when you come."

He doesn’t stop. He keeps fucking into you, chasing his own release, his movements growing rougher, more desperate as he uses your soft, trembling body to push himself over the edge.

"You can give me one more, syulang," he pants, his breath hot against your neck. "One more—just for me—"

"Nete—I—!"

But you can’t fight it. He’s too deep, too perfect, pressing into every spot that makes you fall apart, and before you can stop it— Your whole body seizes as another orgasm rips through you, white-hot and overwhelming.

"Fuck—yes," Neteyam groans, his hips stuttering as he finally lets go. He buries himself as deep as he can, pressing your hips down against him as he fills you, his release spilling inside you, hot and thick.

The sensation pushes you over the edge one last time, your body clenching around him, milking him for everything he has. Neteyam lets out a deep, shuddering moan, his grip on you unyielding as he presses his forehead to your shoulder, breathing hard. His tail curls tightly behind him, his whole body still trembling from the force of it.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breaths, your body still wrapped around him, completely spent.

Then— A breathless laugh tumbles from your lips as you slump forward against him, pressing your forehead to his.

"You—" you gasp, still trying to catch your breath.

Neteyam chuckles, still trying to steady himself. "You’re the one who climbed into my lap, yawne."

You roll your eyes, your fingers lazily tracing over his damp skin. "You were brooding. I had to fix that."

Neteyam hums, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. "And you did," he murmurs, his voice softer now, full of something deep, something endless.

You smile against his lips, nuzzling your nose against his. "Good."

Neteyam leans back against the edge of your bed, his broad shoulders resting against the frame, his arms still wrapped securely around you. You’re draped over him, completely boneless, your cheek pressed against the warm skin of his chest. He’s still buried deep inside you, not moving, but still throbbing with each slow beat of his heart. The heat between you is sticky, your bodies tangled together in the aftermath of pleasure.

You murmur something against his skin, but it’s too soft for him to catch.

Neteyam hums, running a hand lazily down your spine. "What was that, yawntu?"

You exhale, nuzzling against him, too content to move. "I said…I feel so blessed."

He stills for a second, his arms tightening around you slightly before he lets out a deep, satisfied chuckle. "As you should, my love."

You roll your eyes, but the lazy smile on your lips betrays you. "I meant blessed to have you, skxawng."

"Mmm." He nuzzles his nose against your hair, inhaling your scent, still thick with sweat and sex. "I think I am the blessed one."

You hum softly, your fingers tracing idle patterns over his chest. "Then we are both lucky."

Neteyam grins, tilting his head down just enough to press a kiss to your temple. "Maybe. But you seem more exhausted than I am, yawne."

You let out a breathy laugh, tilting your head up to look at him. "I think you broke me."

Neteyam smirks, his fingers sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you just a little closer against him, pressing himself even deeper inside you. "After only one round?" His voice is pure sin, deep and teasing. "Tsk, tsk. And here I thought my little human could keep up with me."

You groan, burying your face against his chest. "Fuck off, Neteyam."

"No, no." He grins, his thumb rubbing slow circles over the curve of your hip. "You started this, syulang. Now I’m just wondering… how many more rounds would it take to get me to your level of exhaustion?"

You flush hard, your fingers tightening against his skin. "You’re insatiable."

"Only for you, ma yawntu," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hairline. "Maybe I should test your limits."

Just to prove his point, he rolls his hips ever so slightly, not enough to be deep, but just enough to feel you clench around him. "Fuck—" You gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

Neteyam groans at the feeling, his golden eyes darkening as he watches your reaction. "Oh?" he purrs, his smirk growing. "You liked that?"

You swallow hard, trying to keep your body from reacting, but it betrays you. You shift slightly, and the movement sends another pulse of pleasure through you, making you clamp down around him again. Neteyam hisses between his teeth. "Mmm, syulang…" His grip on you tightens, his voice thick with amusement. "You keep doing that, and I’m not going to let you rest."

"Then stop talking dirty to me," you mumble against his chest.

He chuckles, his tail flicking lazily behind him. "Oh, but I love seeing you react like this." His large hands slide down your back, kneading your soft skin. "So sensitive, so responsive. All mine."

You groan in frustration, lifting your head just enough to glare at him. "You’re the worst."

Neteyam just smirks, his golden eyes glinting mischievously. "And yet, you’re still sitting on me."

Your face burns. "I hate you."

"No, you don’t." He grins, rolling his hips again, drawing another sharp gasp from your lips. "You love me."

You squeeze your eyes shut, your nails raking lightly against his shoulders as another shiver runs through you. "Fuck—"

"Want me to prove it to you again, yawne?" His voice is pure temptation, his hands already shifting, ready to flip you onto your back.

And, Eywa help you…

Neteyam moves before you can even react. With effortless strength, he flips you onto your back, his massive frame hovering over you as your body melts into the soft blankets. Instinct takes over—you immediately try to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

His ears flick at the movement, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. "So eager," he teases, his voice deep and husky as he settles between your thighs.

Your face burns, and you turn your head to the side, avoiding his gaze. But that only gives him the perfect opportunity to dip his head, his warm lips finding the sensitive pulse at your neck. His teeth graze your skin before he presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss there, reveling in the way your breath stutters.

"Where is my reckless scientist?" Neteyam murmurs against your neck, his breath hot, teasing. "The one who talks back, who teases me without fear?"

A shiver runs down your spine as he presses another kiss lower, his hips rolling forward in the same moment. The slow, deliberate slide of him inside you makes you gasp, your fingers tightening against his shoulders.

"Mmm, there she is," he purrs, nipping at your jaw before lifting his head to look at you properly. "I thought I lost her for a second."

You bite your lip, breathless, but a small, teasing smile tugs at your lips. "She’s here, but she’s a little… preoccupied right now."

Neteyam chuckles, a deep, warm sound that vibrates against your skin. "Good."

And then—he starts to move. His hips rock against yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm, savoring the way you stretch around him, the way your body welcomes him so perfectly. He grunts softly, feeling how impossibly tight you still are, and you arch against him, pressing your chest flush to his as a breathless chuckle slips past your lips. You –this little demon in human skin– was laughing.

"What’s so funny?" he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours, his golden eyes burning into yours as he keeps up his slow, devastating thrusts.

"You, my mighty warrior," you whisper, breathless. "All gruff and strong now… Where was this confidence before, hmm?"

A smirk curls on Neteyam’s lips. "What do you mean?"

You mock a pout, your fingers trailing up to tangle in his thick braids. "Where is my aloof Neteyam? The one who got all flustered when I touched his tail for the first time?"

Neteyam stills for just a fraction of a second—before a slow, wicked grin spreads across his lips.

"Oh, syulang," he purrs, his voice dropping into something dangerously low. "That Neteyam is gone." He growls playfully, his tail flicking behind him. Instead—he picks up the pace. Your teasing dies in your throat, replaced by a sharp gasp as his hips snap forward, driving into you harder, deeper. The new angle has you seeing stars, your legs tightening around him as you gasp his name.

"Ah—Neteyam—"

He grins against your cheek, pressing kisses along your jaw as he keeps up his relentless rhythm. "What was that?" he teases, his voice thick with pleasure.

You can’t answer. You can’t even think. Your body tightens around him, the pleasure hitting you too fast, too hard. "Oh, fuck—" you whimper, your nails digging into his back as your release slams into you, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through your veins.

"That’s it, yawne," Neteyam groans, feeling you tremble beneath him. "Come for me."

You do. You fall apart completely, clinging to him as pleasure wracks your body, leaving you panting and gasping against his chest. But Neteyam doesn’t stop—he’s chasing his own release now, and the way your walls flutter around him only pushes him closer to the edge.

"Fuck—so tight," he grits out, his movements growing more erratic, more desperate.

It should be too much. You should be too sensitive.

But the way he fucks you through it, the way he holds you so close, the way he fills you so completely— It’s too good. And before you can stop it, another orgasm tears through you. "Neteyam—" You barely manage to choke out his name before your body convulses again, pleasure crashing over you for the third time tonight.

"Eywa—" Neteyam curses, his entire body tensing as your walls squeeze around him. "Fuck, yawne—" He groans, burying his face against your shoulder as his hips stutter, and then—he spills inside you, his release warm and thick as he groans your name like a prayer. His arms shake as he holds himself above you, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, his heart hammering against yours.

For a long moment, neither of you move. The only sound in the room is your heavy breathing, your bodies still tangled together, still trembling from the intensity of it all.

Neteyam finally lifts his head, his golden eyes locking onto yours, still hazy with pleasure but filled with something deeper—something warm, something unspoken. He smirks, still panting as he braces himself on his elbows above you. "Three times, yawne?" he muses, brushing a strand of damp hair from your face. "I think that’s a new record."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Oh shut up."

He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. Neteyam’s smirk softens into something unbearably tender, and he leans down, kissing you slow and deep, as if sealing the words between you.

Neteyam lets out a slow, steadying breath as he finally pulls out of you, his muscles still tense from the aftershocks of pleasure. His golden eyes flicker down, watching as his seed slowly drips from your thoroughly used core, and something primal stirs inside him at the sight. But instead of acting on it, he shakes his head with a soft chuckle, leaning back to search for the discarded towel.

He spots it a few feet away, abandoned where you threw it at the start of your heated night. With a satisfied sigh, he reaches for it and gently begins to clean you up, making sure his movements are slow and careful, not wanting to overstimulate your already trembling form.

You giggle softly, your body still humming with pleasure, and you stretch lazily beneath him, grinning like an idiot. "It was so good," you sigh, voice hazy with exhaustion and bliss.

Neteyam smirks, shaking his head as he wipes away the last traces of your joined pleasure. "Of course it was," he murmurs, his tone teasing but full of warmth. "I always take care of you, don’t I, ma’yawne?"

You hum in agreement, then reach up, your fingers curling around the back of his neck as you tug him down toward you. "Kiss me," you whisper, your breath ghosting over his lips, eyes half-lidded and pleading.

Neteyam doesn’t hesitate. His lips find yours in an instant, the kiss deep and slow, full of something tender. He takes his time, savoring the moment, feeling the way your body relaxes further beneath him as you melt into his touch.

When he finally pulls away, he shifts beside you, lying down next to you on the nest of blankets and pillows you made together. You sigh contentedly, your hand reaching out, searching blindly for something on the floor next to you. Neteyam watches with a raised brow as you grab his mask, pulling it closer before pressing it into his hand. "You should breathe in it," you mumble sleepily, your eyes fluttering closed as you push the device toward him.

Neteyam hesitates for a second before taking it, his fingers curling around it as his ears flick at your quiet words. "I always worry about you when you don’t wear it here in the outpost," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

His chest tightens at that—at the way you always think about him, always care for him, even when you’re barely awake. He presses a soft kiss to your temple before lifting the mask to his face, breathing in the filtered air. "I know, syulang," he murmurs, his voice full of something deep and unspoken. "I’ll be fine."

But as he watches you drift off beside him, your small hand still resting against his chest, he realizes—being here, with you, breathing the same air, lying tangled in your warmth—this is the only place he ever wants to be.

Neteyam holds you close, his arms wrapped securely around your smaller frame, his long fingers tracing idle patterns along your bare back. The warmth of your body against his soothes something deep inside him, and without realizing it, a soft, contented purr vibrates through his chest.

You fit so perfectly against him—so small, so fragile, yet strong in ways that never ceased to amaze him. He breathes you in, his nose brushing the top of your head, his tail lazily curling and uncurling as the lingering tension in his body slowly fades.

He thinks you’ve already fallen asleep. But then—

"What happened today, Neteyam?" Your quiet whisper breaks the silence, soft and hesitant, but it still sends a ripple through him. His fingers pause against your back for just a second before resuming their slow caresses. "Why were you so tense?"

You don’t press him, don’t demand an answer—just ask, and wait, giving him the space to speak when he’s ready.

Neteyam exhales slowly, his eyes staring at the ceiling of your small room, his mind drifting back to the conversation with his father, to the weight of expectations, to the frustration that had been simmering in his chest all day.

He swallows hard. "It’s nothing," he murmurs, though even he doesn’t believe the words.

Your fingers, which had been resting lightly on his chest, move—tracing up, pressing gently against his jaw, tilting his face down just enough for him to see the way you’re watching him, even in the dim light.

"Neteyam," you whisper, "don’t do that. Not with me."

Something in him cracks.

Neteyam stares at you, his golden eyes searching your face, his jaw tight as if he’s still debating whether to let the words escape or swallow them down like he always does.

"You are not alone anymore," you whisper, your voice soft but firm, your thumb brushing gently over his cheekbone. "You don’t have to carry everything alone. Tell me, please."

His throat bobs, and for a moment, you think he might shut you out again. But then—he exhales sharply, closing his eyes, as if something inside him finally gives way. "My father…" His voice is rough, strained. "He asked where I was last night. He saw that I was… happy. And still, the only thing he could do was scold me."

Your brows furrow, and you stay silent, letting him continue.

"He told me I should be better," Neteyam says bitterly, his jaw clenching. "That I should always be better." His ears flatten slightly, and his fingers twitch against the blankets. "I have spent my entire life doing everything he asked. I have never disobeyed him, never given him a reason to doubt me. I protected my siblings, even when it meant taking the blame for things they did. I have done everything he wanted—" His voice cracks for a second, but he swallows it down. "And yet, the one time I want something for myself… suddenly, I am the worst son."

Your chest tightens.

"Neteyam…" you whisper, reaching for him, but he shakes his head.

"It’s never enough," he breathes, his voice raw, exposed. "I will never be enough." The pain in his voice, the frustration—the deep, aching wound that has clearly festered for years—it nearly breaks you.

"That’s not true," you say, firm but gentle. "You are already enough, Neteyam. You always have been."

His ears twitch, but he doesn’t respond.

You take a breath, carefully choosing your words. "When I was in the village with the other scientists, I always heard about you." You reach out, threading your fingers through his braids, grounding him. "The other Na’vi speak of you with such admiration. They see you, Neteyam. They see how hard you work, how strong and kind you are. They respect you, they look up to you. You are everything they could hope for in a future leader"

Neteyam blinks, his eyes searching yours, like he wants to believe you but doesn’t know how.

"And your father?" you continue, brushing his hair back from his face. "I know he loves you."

Neteyam scoffs, but it’s weak, half-hearted.

"He does," you insist. "I know it might not feel that way, and maybe he doesn’t always show it the way he should. But you are his firstborn. His son. And I promise you, Neteyam, he loves you."

His breath shudders slightly, his face unreadable. You don’t push him to answer. Instead, you reach for him, gently pulling him closer. And after a moment, he lets you.

His massive body shifts as he wiggles down, pressing his head against your chest, his arms circling your waist, holding onto you. From an outside perspective, it must look ridiculous—the strong and powerful Na’vi, curled up against someone half his size, clinging to you like a lost child. But to you, it is the most natural thing in the world.

You cradle him close, your fingers slipping into his hair, massaging the base of his skull as you feel the weight of his body against yours. He exhales slowly, his breath warm against your skin, his tension finally beginning to ease.

You press a soft kiss to the top of his head, whispering, "You are doing a good job, my love. You always have."

Neteyam doesn’t respond, but you feel it—the way his arms tighten around you, the way his breathing steadies, the way his entire body melts against yours. And when you continue running your fingers through his braids, still holding him close, you hear it again—his soft, contented purr vibrating against your chest.

I guess I just wanted to write a fluff smut part before the pain

¯\_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

Part 20: (Soon)

[hoshiina]

pairing: akatsuki hyoga x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: kind of inspired by from the start by laufey, you loved him from the start

warnings: the reader is described as beautiful and pretty, hyoga is kind of sweet

If someone were to ask you what made you fall in love with Hyoga, you’d be in a bind, because you truly had no reason. You had no idea what started this little crush, but you were certain you loved him, there was no mistake about it. From the way you would notice your eyes following him, all the way to the way your heart would flutter when he talked to you. There was no other explanation of these emotions you harboured.

Hyoga was skeptical at times. He enjoyed talking to you far more than you would ever imagine, but sometimes he would have a sense that you might have some feelings for him. However, every time he had thought of this, it would immediately fade as he came to his senses, because there was absolutely no way you would fall for him. There was nothing he had ever done that could possibly come across as good, let alone something that would make someone fall for him. And definitely not you.

There were so many people who would kill to get one date with you, but none of them had had the confidence to ask. You were the most beautiful person most people had laid their eyes on, and he wasn’t an exception. This wasn’t only about your looks either, it was actually mainly about who you were. You would always be down to help and you always had a smile on, no matter the day. 

Your existence was more of an annoyance to Hyoga when you were just revived. He first assumed that Senkuu had just decided to revive a pretty person to raise the moral of the team, after realizing you had no particular strengths. However, it wasn’t long until he realized it wasn’t your looks that were making everyone’s day, it was rather your energy that was. For the first time in his life, he realized the effect one’s kindness can have on others. Soon after, the two of you had your first conversation, and for the first time in a very long time, you brought a smile to his face.

Now, you had no idea how to make Hyoga fall for you. You had pondered on this for months now, thinking about this every time you talked to him. Quite frankly, you were tired. You wanted him to like you so badly and today you were going to go for it. You had to start somewhere and whatever you were doing obviously wasn’t working.

The next time you talked to Hyoga was rather soon. He was just finishing his training for the day and you had just helped bring back the minerals that Chrome had found today. You were always nervous when you talked to him, but today must have been so much worse than usual, because you blurted out the words you had carefully held in for months.

“Hyoga, I like you,” you said and he was visibly shaken, but to his surprise you looked just as horrified. 

“...What?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“That came out wrong,” you said and he undeniably felt his heart drop a little. Of course it did.

“If you’re going to pull that prank, at least do it to someone believable,” Hyoga said.

“What?” you said and immediately you realized what he meant. “No, I do like you. I’m serious, I just didn’t mean to blurt it out like that.”

“There’s no way,” Hyoga said, but he was hoping you would deny him and explain. “What have I ever done to make you like me?”

“Well, I’m sure that I do. I can’t quite point out when I first fell in love, but I can list things I like about you,” you said, absolutely confident. “I like the way you don’t say things you don’t mean. I like the way you care for those who matter. Oh, I love the way you’re always working hard. I know you’ve never skipped a day of training, even when you were burning up with that fever and you really should’ve...” You were ready to go on but the way Hyoga’s eyes widened surprised you. Immediately, you remembered when you first fell in love with Hyoga.

It was like you had thawed his frozen heart. He was so lost on how to react, no one had ever said that to him before. It was then that he remembered the time he probably fell for you. It was the first time the two of you had talked and your first comment was that you liked his kudayari spear. He had questioned if you were familiar with it and you told him you were not, a little embarrassed. You had admitted that you hardly knew anything about combats and weapons, but you assumed that the wear and tear in his spear showed how hard he worked. That couldn’t help but make him smile.

You were always like that. 

“Hyoga, I remember what made me fall in love,” you said, almost proud. “The first time we talked, you smiled. I thought a cupid shot me in the heart.”

Your confident demeanor was slowly fading away as you waited for his response. He could tell you were nervous and that made his heart flutter. You were serious. 

It wasn’t on purpose, it wasn’t because you had just said that. He just couldn’t help but smile. 

“Then, I fell in love first.”

BONUS

"No way," you said, unable to process that he returned your feelings, let alone fell first.

"You better not go around doing that to other people," he said, not elaborating on the previous statement.

"Oh, don't be silly," you said and he opened his mouth to tell you he was serious, but you went on. "I've only ever been looking at you, how would I know anything about anyone else?"

[hcuyk]

im a dean girlie and the description is EXACTLY how my last relationship ended.

i love that you can learn so much about a person's issues by asking them which of rory gilmore's cringefail boyfriends is their favorite.

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.

“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.

satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”

you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.

“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.

the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.

when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.

“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.

satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.

it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.

“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”

your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.

you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.

“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.

you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.

“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.

somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”

nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.

[siriuslylantsov]

save a horse

pairing: joel miller x reader

description: joel puts on his old cowboy getup and it gives you an idea.

tags: MDNI! smut, porn w/o plot, no outbreak au, established relationship, age gap, fem!reader, unprotected piv, riding, thigh riding, dirty talk (kinda?), nipple stuff (bcs i think joel miller is a boob man), praise kink kinda, little domestic.

a/n: my first joel miller smut! because i've been reading an ungodly amount, i can't stop thinking about him...

wc: 2.2k

“oh my god,” your voice comes out stunned as you walk in, kicking the door shut behind you.

a cowboy. sitting on your couch. well, joel dressed as a cowboy on your couch. 

he stands up with a grin, a little shy. “found this in my storage. from some years ago, can't believe it still fits me.”

flannel and jeans, old and a little faded–the jeans fit more snuggly against his thighs compared to his normal ones that you can't help but gawk. he's dressed the same way as always but this time there's a hat on his head and a belt around his hips adorned with a flashy buckle. his boots click lightly on the floor as he makes his way over to you, your eyes dart down to them.

“woulda wore the chaps too but that felt like overkill,” he says, dropping his hands to your waist. “d’ya like it?”

do you like it? you stare up at him a bit incredulous, at a loss for words as you check him out slowly. when you meet his gaze again, the shadow of his hat darkens the top of his face, yet you can still see the way his eyes glisten hopefully.

“yeah baby,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his jaw, his beard scratching your lips slightly.

his grin widens and he pulls you closer, “good.”

“you did this for me?” 

“well, yeah. thought it’d be fun.”

“fun how?” you tease, slipping your fingers into his belt loops and tugging them.

“hate it when you work blue,” he grumbles, his small smirk telling you otherwise.

“no you don't,” you counter with a knowing smile. your lips part as if you're going to say something but they quickly shut.

joel eyes you curiously, eyebrows furrowed trying to figure you out, “spill.”

you hesitate for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek before speaking.

“i've always wanted to ride a cowboy.”

his head cocks to the side, eyebrows raised, amused. “oh yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe, nodding before jutting your head toward the couch. “sit please.”

you stand between his spread legs as he sits. leaning back, he lazily lifts a hand to unbutton your jeans, popping it off with ease as if he's done it a hundred times before–he has. when he pulls them down, you take your shirt off, leaving you in your underwear. 

“what's that thing people say? save a horse, ride a cowboy?” you ask and joel stares at you shamelessly, eyes dragging down and back up, utterly enticed.

“‘s a song by um- big ‘n rich,” he murmurs distractedly as he hones in on the little bow on your bra, right in the middle. you pinch the tip of his hat and lift it off his head, placing it on top of yours instead. fingers snake itself through his soft hair and guide his head back so he can look at you.

“hi,” your voice comes out quiet, coy. you smile down sweetly at him and you find him mirroring it. “hi darlin’.”

your gaze trails down his body again, stopping at his thighs. it's obscene how good they look in his old jeans, he's obviously filled into them well. the fabric stretches tight over his limbs, hugging them perfectly. what if you just-

with a finger in the waistband of your panties you pull them down in one swift motion, moving your body to hover over his right thigh, now in between your legs.

he groans something pained when he realises what you're about to do, hands flying back up to your waist to urge you down and body scooting forward so it's easier. you gasp when you lower yourself, legs parted just right that your clit brushes against the fabric of his jeans upon contact. 

fuck.

the patch of wet on the denim comes as a surprise when you draw your hips back, you didn't realise you were that wet. you rock your hips again, experimentally, and the friction is debilitating. you’d fall over if joel's hands weren’t keeping you steady.

speaking of them, he begins to guide you back and forth, and your eyes snap back to him in alarm. he gives you an encouraging nod, keep going. you have to hear it from him and he knows that. 

“cmon, baby. want you to feel good,” he spurs while nodding again, pushing down to apply more pressure, your mouth falls open in a gasp. but you take his words in tow and keep going. 

maybe it's a little pathetic how you rut against his leg, little whines escaping your parted lips, but he doesn't seem to mind. he's more than okay watching you like this as he rubs circles into your hip bone. 

“joel, i can't-” you sob, legs beginning to ache from the way you were perched. it feels so good but you’re quickly regretting how you chose to go about this, half sat and calves straining from the weight. you pout, lips trembling, and he looks absolutely wrecked by this.

what you hadn't realised was that every so often your knee pushed into his crotch, he was being stimulated as much as you. the hard-on he's sporting pushes against the confines of his jeans, he’d gladly come untouched if he didn’t want to be inside you as badly as he did. 

“yeah, you can, baby,” he grits through his teeth, “gimme this one, want you t’come first.”

his fingers start tweaking your nipple under your bra, and god, he starts flexing his thigh. he hopes the added incentive will help push you over the edge. to his delight, the oh so familiar feeling starts to build embarrassingly fast in the pit of your stomach. 

your head falls back in a high, baring your neck to him. this in turn causes the hat to slowly slip off your head, he smiles and tucks it back on, repeating the motion of his thigh, bouncing ever so slightly.

“oh fuck. fuck. fuck-” you finish with a whine, body collasping into itself. joel reaches out to hold you to him as your hips stutter. his head dips to your neck, kissing the skin softly as you come down. 

“there ya go. did so good for me, angel,” he speaks into your skin.

you get off his thigh and slump onto the couch with a groan, ignoring the startlingly dark patch you leave on his jeans. you're catching your breath when you nudge him playfully with your elbow, he's equally leaned back, head tipped to the side, looking at you with awe in his eyes.

“i think your bad joints are contagious, old man.”

this makes him scoff. you take the hat off, placing it on his lap before bringing both knees to your chest and squeezing to relieve some of the tension, they really did ache. to this, he laughs and drops his head to your shoulder.

“what? i'm serious, they hurt,” you defend, albeit a little petulantly.

“but you came?”

“yes,” you respond, dragging the word out in exaggeration.

“and ya felt good?”

“yes, miller,” you grumble, nosing the hair of his that tickled your face.

“i don't see any problem in a little hurt, s’what i go through every time,” he mutters quietly.

“every time, huh?”

you feel him nod dutifully and you chuckle. his age usually made itself known after sex–either by complaining about his hips or his knees cracking after a taxing session of eating you out, not that he minded.

he lifts his head and shifts, leaning in. “so when ya gonna ride this cowboy?”

impatient, but he had been waiting.

you look down to his crotch, still painfully hard, and the corners of your mouth pull down in faux sympathy.

“poor baby,” you coo, taunting although he knows you’re teasing. “want me to fuck you?”

his eyes meet yours in searing eye contact, deadpan, but the way his eyes crinkle at the corners betray him, he’s trying not to smile. with a curt dip of his chin, he nods, yes. 

and who are you to deny him?

you nudge him to lean back again and put the damn hat back on his head. god, he looks sexy. 

you settle on taking his pants off, leaving them and the belt pooled around his feet. and when you unbutton his shirt, you stop him from taking it off completely–liking how his skin peeked down the middle. you settle on his lap, legs bracketing his thighs. you kiss him, sweet and gentle, head tilted more than usual because of the hat. his hands drift up your back to the clasp of your bra, quickly unfastening it and letting it fall. you slip your hand under his boxers and palm him, you like the weight of him your hands.

“baby-” he drawls. “please.”

“i know, i know.”

you pull him out of his boxers and rise to your knees, positioning yourself accordingly. you swipe the tip through your folds a few times, relishing in the groan it earns you before pushing in, tantalisingly slow. 

you brace yourself on his shoulders, it's always a stretch with joel. when he's bottomed out, you let out a deep long winded sigh. you stay like that for a moment, eyes closed. the angle is maddening and the way your weight settles on top of him drives him crazy.

you tentatively rise and sink back down slowly. fuck. you do it again and again. joel shoots you a proud grin, his hands back at your waist to help you. a breathy moan escapes you when the tip of him drags against your g-spot on the ascent .

“attagirl. there she is," joel mumbles, always keen on your sounds. “feels good, huh?”

“mhm, feels- so good, joel,” you sigh, rocking back and forth now.

“i bet,” he responds with a grunt, “can feel you squeezin’ around me.”

you whimper at that, back arching and effectively pushing your tits closer to his face. he tries to lean closer but the hat stops him, hitting your sternum.

“stupid fuckin’ hat,” he grumbles, tossing it away. it flies somewhere beside the coffee table and you laugh, ducking down to kiss him as he continues making incoherent annoyed noises. a hat is not going to deny him what he wants.

he hums low against your lips, trailing his kisses down to your neck. he nips at your skin, placing a peck to your collarbone before reaching his destination. his lips close around your nipple, hand securing itself between your shoulders to hold you firm against his mouth. 

“oh fuck,” you breathe. you look down to find him already looking back up at you and the sight is depraved, downright filthy. 

you card a hand through his greying hair and tighten, speeding up the motion of your hips. his free hand tweaks the neglected nipple and he is everywhere. you can’t handle it. a weak grunt sounds from you and he knows.

“joel please-” you cut yourself off with a broken moan as he begins to suck, pinching the sensitive bud between his teeth. he switches over to the other one and repeats, leaving you a whining mess in his lap.

“s'okay, baby. i got you,” he coos, lifting his head up to kiss you again. he pulls your body closer, holding you to his chest, bracing you. because before you know it his hips jump to meet yours, fucking up into you. 

he swallows every lewd sound you make, responding with a quick snap of his hips. “always take me so well, pretty girl. like you're made for this cock, huh?”

“mhm, i love it,” you slur.

he grins, breath growing heavier as his peak nears. he recognises the expression on your face instantly, eyebrows pinched together and eyes fighting to be closed, he knows you're in the same boat and he’ll be damned if he doesn't get you to cum first.

“you close, angel?” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. when you nod, he hums sympathetically, fucking you harder. his hips slap against yours incessantly and you let out a muffled cry, holding onto him for dear life. 

“that’s it, take it,” he encourages as he feels your walls clamp down. “cum for me, baby.”

your nails leave crescent shaped imprints on his shoulder, back, anywhere you can hold onto as you tip over the edge, keening loudly, it borders on a scream. 

his orgasm quickly follows as his hips stutter, spilling into you with a shudder and a groan. he lazily fucks into you a few more times, riding out the aftershocks before stilling.

the two of you sit there, breathless, skin sticking to each other . his head dips and falls onto your chest as he hugs you to his body. his breath comes out in soft puffs against your skin, warm. 

“that was...,” you mumble, heart finally slowing down.

he chuckles, dry and low that it makes you shiver. “yeah.”

“joel?”

he lifts his head up, eyes soft and admiring when he looks at you. he hums in acknowledgment.

“wear the chaps next time.”

he laughs again, something heartier as he takes in your face, deadly serious. he kisses your chin, “yes ma’am.”

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

[astonmartinii]

but daddy i love him [guilty as sin part two] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

when an unstoppable force (the sainz men when they feel aggrieved) meets an immovable object (charles and y/n)

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 783,409 others

carlossainz55: never forget where you came from

view all comments

user100: insert cricket noises here

user101: who on your PR team said this was a good idea?

user102: they need to be fired, sorry not sorry

landonorris: i love your dad (tell him to stop beating me at golf)

carlossainz55: if he never lets me win he's definitely never letting you win

landonorris: so unfair i thought i was the third sainz sibling :(

carlossainz55: i'm an only child

landonorris: oh-

user103: i need this man to choke i'm being so serious rn

user104: that's so unbelievably fucked

user105: the fact his dad is probably co-signing this shit is insane that's YOUR DAUGHTER

user106: also someone give lando a lil slap around he's on the wrong side of history on this one

yourusername: scandal does funny things to pride

carlossainz55: if the scandal is betraying your family that's all you

yourusername: if we're talking about betrayal then that's your specialist subject mr. i've cheated on every girl i've ever been with - and while we're on the topic of betrayal, yes i was the one who told them

carlossainz55: i've never cheated why are you stooping to lies?

yourusername: you did it right in front of my face when i was a part of this family

carlossainz55: so you've always been comfortable going behind my back

yourusername: that's the thing, when you're treated like you don't exist by your family you learn that blood is not thicker than water

carlossainz55: i can't wait for charles to cheat on you

yourusername: btw i already called marca, they know any of those allegations from you or dad are false - good luck!

user10: obvs i know they should be doing this in private but MORE DRAMA FOR ME BABY LETS KEEP THIS GOING

user107: thank you for the validation y/n i KNEW THE SHIT STIRRING COMING FROM THAT PAPER WAS THE SAINZ CAMP

user108: and they've got the nerve to be talking about stooping - the call is coming from inside the house

maxverstappen1: ugly twins

carlossainz55: really?

maxverstappen1: i said what i said and i mean what i said

carlossainz55: i would say she's not going to fuck you bro but you really never know with her

maxverstappen1: she would never, homewrecking is a trait only the male sainzs seem to have

user109: OOP

user110: max is a real lestappen queen fighting the battles he knows charles can't

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 893,405 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: if you know within one glimpse, its legendary

view all comments

user114: i love how she goes from fighting her brother in one comment section to just showing off her hot bf

user115: tbf charles does have a face you'd go to war for so i get her

user116: i'd abandon my family for that face

yourusername: finally someone who fucking gets it

charles_leclerc: you made me believe in love at first sight

yourusername: awwwwww you're such a sweet talker the REAL smooth operator

pierregasly: i can verify it was love at first sight cause the man did not SHUT THE FUCK UP about you well... ever

charles_leclerc: is it a crime to love my girlfriend?

pierregasly: apparently!

yourusername: he's too cute to go to jail :(

charles_leclerc: they'd ruin me

yourusername: that's my job 🤨

pierregasly: you keep that to yourselves

user117: does this girl need to shade carlos on every single fucking post... yeah we get it he's the only reason you're relevant but god you reek of desperation

oscarpiastri: is this carlos' burner account?

user118: are the grid just sat around waiting to be tagged in to the fight against carlos?

oscarpiastri: what's he going to do? crash into me? he does that every weekend anyway

user119: uh oh carlos oscar is finally fighting back off track what are you going to do

user120: don't worry i'm sure he'll post a selfie with lando and try the whole carlando shtick to get some more PR points

maxverstappen1: oh this was not the shit slinging post i was hoping for

yourusername: something tells me you're having way too much fun with this

maxverstappen1: yeah you might have been abandoned by your family but have YOU considered that this is letting me express all my mean girl energy off track so i am level-headed on track

maxverstappen1: actually i don't even think i'm being mean tbf

yourusername: i'm glad my suffering could be your therapy

carlossainz55: BOO HOO you're not suffering ... it's something called the consequences of your actions (read: actions being a snakey slut)

yourusername: bro over here acting like i committed fratricide

maxverstappen1: TAP ME IN

maxverstappen1: not this man talking about the consequences of actions. kids, here's a little life lesson: if you spend all your time at your current job talking about how you have a much better job waiting for you and how you're too big for this job and plant stories about your co-workers, you can't be surprised that that same job doesn't want to keep you

carlossainz55: i am better than charles

yourusername: lying is a sin

maxverstappen1: and you're going straight to hell

user121: you guys might be mourning the loss of charlos (whatever the fuck that is) but i'm celebrating the absolute shit ton of LESTAPPEN we're getting

user122: max was like oh my bff is dating charles here's my excuse to be nice about him again

user123: if we're being real here the biggest crime of this whole situation is the fact that charles can't really dig the knife in

user124: @ silvia i have maybe £4.50 and a greggs sausage roll to my name but PLEASE LET CHARLES TAP IN

f1

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,298,006 others

tagged: oscarpiastri & carlossainz55

f1: f1... the sport that gives you just as much drama off track as we do on track!

view all comments

user125: at this point even before the whole carlos ousting his sister i think oscar was about 👌🏻 this close to rocking carlos nascar style we should let him do it

user126: i will personally pay his legal fees tbh

oscarpiastri: i'm only 23 i don't need two F1-related legal cases to my name

yourusername: i've watched legally blonde about ten billion times let me represent you

oscarpiastri: yeah sounds legit

user127: THAT'S IT WE NEED PROXIMITY CHAT IN F1

user128: the way we know there was a shit talking session like no other after this race

maxverstappen1: i don't kiss and tell but well - yes!

user128: okay since this is clearly a safe space... who was there please spill mr. verstappen

maxverstappen1: ME! charles, pierre, oscar, checo, alex and george!

user128: why the fuck were the last two there?

georgerussell63: i was on official GDPA duty 🤓

alexalbon: that's a lie we're just very nosey

yourusername: they're the biggest PTA moms ever don't even lie

georgerussell63: yes i'll make allergy friendly cupcakes for the bake sale but i'll also spit in them and gossip about your cheating husband - sorry about it!

alexalbon: he's not

georgerussell63: i'm not

user129: carlos slagging off y/n but she's really brought the grid together

user130: george and alex being like we do not care about that but we do want the latest scoop

alexalbon: oh don't get it twisted we're firmly team y/n

user131: we even got the f1 admin in on the drama

carlossainz55: she's probably fucking them as well

yourusername: BORING get a new bit babe

carlossainz55: if i see whore i'm going to say whore

yourusername: aren't you still in that damn stewards office?

carlossainz55: tell your little lap dog to keep his front wing away from my car and maybe i wouldn't

oscarpiastri: suck my dick

yourusername: now that's true poetry

user132: oH!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 763,409 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, logansargent & oscarpiastri

yourusername: florida !!!!!!!!!!! is one hell of a drug. no seriously what is in the water here i keep picking up these little guys everywhere i go

view all comments

user135: she's really like i AM spanish and i will colonise this grid

user136: stealing all the lil cuties for her cause

oscarpiastri: proud to be a part of this weird little circus thing we've got going on

yourusername: oh dibs on ring master

logansargent: i feel like my name is written all over tight rope walking

yourusername: okay yes skinny legend

maxverstappen1: obvs we're a cruelty free circus so no lions but if there were lions, that's me babe

maxverstappen1: SOME people could learn... cough, cough trophy hunters

charles_leclerc: idk i'll just take the one where i can sit there and be pretty

yourusername: and you would be the best at it

oscarpiastri: which one does the least? i'll take that one

user137: bro can we slow the fuck down i was just getting over osc telling carlos to suck his dick now we're talking CIRCUS?

user138: for real couldn't it have at least been cabaret i wanna see ALL of that

charles_leclerc: 🤨

carlossainz55: i think a circus is a perfect way to describe your desperate attempt to stay relevant

yourusername: don't you have a job to go to? oh wait...

carlossainz55: as if i'm threatened by a group with the likes of logan sargent in it

logansargent: bit harsh, i'm a nice guy (unlike some)

yourusername: carlos here's a little bit of a wild thing i'm about to introduce to you.... people have friends?

yourusername: also you WISH you had a face card like logie

carlossainz55: i have friends?

yourusername: no you have PR strategies, there's a difference

carlossainz55: bro learnt the word PR and ran with it

yourusername: tell me one person who would let you crash on their couch?

yourusername: QUICKLY.

fernandoalo_oficial: and don't even think about mentioning me

user139: she hit him with the bianca del rio

user140: OOP and also nando just popping up out of nowhere to diss carlos and never say anything again

charles_leclerc: the drug in question being puppy fever

maxverstappen1: tell me you didn't get a dog

yourusername: boy do i have news for you

carlossainz55: are you trying to baby trap him

yourusername: first woman in history to birth a dog you heard it here first

charles_leclerc: you simply can't be babytrapped when you would literally jump off a bridge if asked to

user141: @myboyfriend TAKE NOTES HONEY ^^^

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,745,093 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

charles_leclerc: two kids in one month? someone stop us

view all comments

user142: y/n really lost an apartment and a brother and gained about 27 f1 drivers and a dog

user143: glow up of the century some might say

liked by charles_leclerc

yourusername: soz it's a coping mechanism

charles_leclerc: and that's okay <3

maxverstappen1: anything to help with that emotional CONSTIPATION

yourusername: have you tried to live with those narcissistic and emotionally unavailable men?

maxverstappen1: you're asking the wrong person that question honey

yourusername: girl are WE good?

maxverstappen1: no

yourusername: BUT THAT'S OKAY

charles_leclerc: not to rain on this parade but i think therapy would really be a positive move here

user144: i feel bad for charles cause i know these hoes are the type to just tell each other EXACTLYYYYY when they make poor decisions

maxverstappen1: true, no smart bitches would let their bff live with THAT man

yourusername: and let their bff constantly chat shit and ruin their image

maxverstappen1: can't ruin my image if i'm spitting FACTS

user145: max will nawt let this go

maxverstappen1: i'll forget you but i'll never forgive the smallest man who ever lived

yourusername: GIRL

maxverstappen1: whoops, one sec. spoiler alert: y/n unleased poetry. trigger warning: c*rlos s*inz

olliebearman: ollie bearman erasure

charles_leclerc: GASP OLLIE I AM SO SORRY

yourusername: no he actually is he's crying

charles_leclerc: it's the pregnancy hormones

olliebearman: it's okay i swear

charles_leclerc: I'M A TERRIBLE FATHER

carlossainz55: i could've told you that for free

olliebearman: why are you in our family buisness

user146: charles is channelling all of his carlos rage through ollie oh my

olliebearman: i am a happy conduit for my father who is in the ferrari PR jail

yourusername: can we send carlos here and throw away the key?

user147: charles is really out there like keep my girl's name out of your mouth cause even the bitch who stole your seat for a weekend is my SON

user148: y/n wasn't joking about with this grid domination

user149: but also i'm glad all of this fun stuff is happening amongst all of the shit that's been thrown at her from her family

oscarpiastri: a leclerc and proud (i race like my dad and throw shade like my mum)

yourusername: the best way to be

charles_leclerc: proud of you, you're such a good dog brother :)

oscarpiastri: i've just learnt to be patient after alpine and lando

yourusername: you still took your shoes being leo's personal bathroom really well

oscarpiastri: he's too cute to be mad at

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 824,109 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: first mother's day with my boys

view all comments

user150: gonna enjoy this super wholesome post before... he... ruins it

user151: manifesting a y/n post without that bitter old hag in the comment section

charles_leclerc: the best mother for our fur baby and our miscellaneous other children

yourusername: only the best with you :(

charles_leclerc: ugh i love you so much

yourusername: i love you even more

user152: they're so fucking cute

user153: damn carlos i too would be angry if my baby sister and my teammate outshined my third PR relationship in six months

user154: the sainz family have generational levels of hating, but one does it for good (poetry) and one does it for bad (anything carlos ever says)

oscarpiastri: happiest mother's day to my grid mum! here's to reading them to filth xx

yourusername: OSC!! i always knew you were my favourite aussie

danielricciardo: did my enchante PR mean nothing?

yourusername: i mean i wear it all of the time... but it's osc ...

danielricciardo: true, i broke my hand before i could even think of accidentally hurting him

user155: also babe is looking so unbothered, moisturised and free we need the skin care routine

oscarpiastri: the tears of carlos sainz

yourusername: and cleansing your life of toxic family members

user156: okay clearly oscar was done with the whole "i'm so chill" bit cause since his adoption by charles and y/n he's been non stop on carlos' neck

oscarpiastri: i'm a ride or die for my mum cry about it

maxverstappen1: as the kids would say ... mother is mothering? @olliebearman did i do it right?

charles_leclerc: stop trying to steal my kids

maxverstappen1: BRO I'M TRYING TO COMPLIMENT YOUR GIRLFRIEND

charles_leclerc: that's literally my job 🤨

yourusername: tbf i'll take as many compliments as i can

charles_leclerc: are mine not enough?

yourusername: when you've got a self esteem this low, you gotta take what you can get

charles_leclerc: oh :(

user157: max and y/n fighting over who trauma dumps more about their upbringing

carlossainz55: this bit is very tiring. you'll be a terrible mother and all these people you think are your friends will drop you as soon as they know who you really are.

yourusername: you done?

carlossainz55: as you loveeeee to point out, i don't have much to lose anymore so i really wouldn't test me

yourusername: trying to make me homeless and stealing all of my money wasn't enough?

carlossainz55: charles will know the truth soon enough and you won't have us to come crying to

yourusername: i'll take those chances thank you

user158: hold ON what do you mean stole all her money

yourusername: i was never allowed my own bank account so all my earnings have gone to them!

user159: okay that's it WE RIDE AT DAWN

fin.

note: oh girl life has been BUSY!!! i just got a new job and have been looking desperately for a flat to move out to. also i've had family visiting and going here, there and everywhere. but i hope you enjoy! this was a lil more light-hearted lol (until the end) so enjoy the addition of the leclerc family lore xx

ALSO i wanted to say a massive THANK YOU FOR 6,000 FOLLOWERS love you all <3

note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: in comments!

[checkeredflagggs]

Unsolved

Pairing: charles leclerc x podcaster!reader

summary: when charles admits to listening to unsolved, Ferrari take it upon themselves to play matchmaker

a/n: Hope everyone has a good 2025!

a/n2: I made up all of these murders and mysteries. My bad if they’re actually real

scuderiaferrari

liked by yourprivate, maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc, and 3,138,723 others

scuderiaferrari: Carlos and Charles took the stage today to answer fans’ questions!

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user1: god do they look good

↳user2: i knnnnnoooowwwww

↳user1: gnawing at the bars of my enclosure right now ngl

user3: loved the little baking lesson that Carlos had going on there at one point

↳user4: god can we get charles to take notes???

↳arthur_leclerc: it wouldn’t help

↳charles_leclerc: stop lying! I can cook

↳arthur_leclerc: you can’t

↳user4: we saw that pasta video…unless you’ve gotten vastly better no you can’t

user5: my big surprise takeaway was that charles also listens to unsolved? He seems like that would be too scary for him tbh

↳user6: listen that man has been in Ferrari for years now

↳user6: listen to the horrors? No no no. He lives with them. He is them

↳user7: alrighty there Mr. Philosophy. Chill

user8: ok but did you see his blush when they asked why he liked unsolved?

↳user9: YES! I think the mans likes the podcaster, not the podcast!

↳user8: can you blame him? They’re hot af

user10: ok but i feel like this is the start of a meet cute? liked by charles_leclerc, yourprivate

↳user10: did??? Did Charles just like my comment???

↳arthur_leclerc: 😆😆😆😆

unsolved

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, maxverstappen1, and 724,293 others

unsolved: Let’s talk death and disappearances this month — three cases spread across 3 states and 3 decades that have never been solved that starts and ends in Boston! Lisa Miller, …more

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user11: chilling…

user12: ok but why do they match so well…did you just somehow connect these 3 murders?

user13: damn do the fbi need to hire you. liked by the fbi

↳user13: wait what???

maxverstappen1: good stuff 👍🏻

↳user14: what in the earth is this crossover???

↳user15: vroom vroom guys listen to murder mystery podcast??

↳charles_leclerc: NO. NO WE DONT

↳unsolved: shame 😞

↳charles_leclerc: no wait wait wait. I DO! They don’t.

↳pierregasly: 😂😂

↳user16: what in the world…

oscarpiastri: interesting, interesting…

↳charles_leclerc: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

↳oscarpiastri: that’s no way to speak to your son…

↳user17: what is going on in the House of Commons???

↳unsolved: that’s what we would like to know as well…

↳charles_leclerc: ABSOLUTELY NOTHING IS HAPPENIGN!!

Private Emails

scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, unsolved, and 2,133,464 others

tagged: unsolved

scuderiaferrari: COTA here we come…with a mysterious guest!

view all comments

user18: OH MY GOD did they really invite the unsolved podcaster Charles has been not so secretly thirsting over???

↳user19: they did! I bet it’s gonna be a really interesting race…

charles_leclerc: we look forward to seeing you!

↳user20: how long did it take you to type that out and not completely freak??

↳arthur_leclerc: longer than you think possible!

this comment was deleted

↳carlossainz55: his face was redder then our cars

this comment was deleted

↳pierregasly: I was fielding panicked calls all day. You have no idea

this comment was deleted

↳maxverstappen1: I just took his phone and did it for him 😂

this comment was deleted

user21: my fingers are crossed. I am sat. Please please please give us a good episode of unsolved with Charles and Carlos. You don’t understand my NEED for this to happen

↳user21: god I’m just imaging something like their prison episode from 2 years ago? Like spooky and creepy to the extreme!

↳user22: sorry but can you explain? I’m new to unsolved and am working backwards!

↳user21: of course! So about 2/2.5 years ago the unsolved crew camped out in a decommissioned prison with a ghost hunter group (I forgot their name sorry!)

↳user21: while the hunters were, you know, searching for ghosts, the unsolved crew were doing an in-depth study on all the creepy and dangerous murders that happened in the prison!

↳user21: it was a really fun crossover episode!

↳user22: oh! That’s so cool! And austion has some pretty haunted places — maybe they’ll do it again here!

unsolved has posted 3 stories

[COTA here I come!] [beautiful!] [The setting for tonight!]

user23 replied I’m so excited!

scuderiaferrari replied glad to see you on the way!

↳unsolved thanks for setting this up!

↳unsolved I’m very excited!

user24 replied oh my god that’s such a pretty photo!

user25 replied go get your man

↳unsolved whaat??

↳user25 oh my god you don’t know??

↳unsolved ???

↳user25 oh this is gonna be funny af

scuderiaferrari replied …you’ll have both our drivers back in one piece right??

↳unsolved of course!

charles_leclerc replied that’s…that’s where we are staying??

↳unsolved yup!

Bluesky

Bluesky

unsolved

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, sebastionvettel, maxverstappen1, and 1,231,122 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrar, spiritsleuths

unsolved: only 1 driver was hurt in the making of this video and his name was…Jasper White! Thanks to scuderiaferrari for loaning us their drivers to make this amazing video that took a long look at some of the most haunting deaths in this local Austin landmark! And thanks to the Spirit Sleuths for helping us out last night!

view all comments

user26: spooky…

↳user27: it feels unreal that there were so many deaths in one place in such quick succession…

oscarpiastri: glad to see you made it though the night

↳charles_leclerc: of course I did! There was no problems whatsoever

↳unsolved: I’m pretty sure I have a couple of hours of video that show you screaming and clutching at me to prove that wrong…

↳charles_leclerc: you don’t ☺️☺️☺️

↳maxverstappen1: ohhh share?

↳unsolved: that’s no footage I guess

↳pierregasly: shame

↳charles_leclerc: thank you 😊

↳user19: hmmmmm user53??

↳user53: i see it. I see it

arthur_leclerc: ok but how many drivers were screaming???

↳unsolved: all of them!

↳charles_leclerc: no! Just 1 🥹🥹

↳unsolved: sorry just one!

↳carlossainz55: compañero?

↳charles_leclerc: just 1!!!

↳unsolved: sorry 🤗

↳user19: hmmmmm

↳user53: adding it to the folder now

user28: that was such a fun episode!

↳spiritsleuths: just wait for our cut of the night!

↳user28: I’m sitting. I’m sat. I’m ready.

sebastionvettel: never thought I’d see the day after that incident in 2019

↳landonorris: share!

↳oscarpiastri: don’t you mean the inchident

↳maxverstappen1: another inchident??

↳carlossainz55: it was for a love interest

this comment was deleted

↳charles_leclerc: this time it won’t be just an inchident

scuderiaferrari

liked by yourprivate, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 2,293,124 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

scuderiaferrari: And that’s our COTA winner Charles Leclerc!

view all comments

yourprivate: Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me

↳charles_leclerc: who are we to fight the alchemy?

user29: man he moves fast

↳charles_leclerc: very fast!

↳charles_leclerc: not letting this chance escape me!

↳user29: oh my god im so jealous right now

↳yourprivate: 🤭🤭🤭

carlossainz55: congrats mate!

↳charles_leclerc: you too!

↳charles_leclerc: for both reasons!!

↳carlossainz55: shush!

↳user30: oh??? user19, user53???

↳user19: …I’m on it

↳user53: I’ll start the coffee

↳user31: COFFEE??!?? ARE YOU GUYS TOGETHER???????

↳user53:WHAT NO? AHAT? SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

↳user19: I DONT KNOW AHAT YOURE TAKKING ABOU AHAHAHA

↳user32: user19 user53 act normal challenge — failed

pierregasly: thank god. Now stop texting me asking how to ask them out

↳charles_leclerc: stop. talking.

↳yourprivate: awww were you nervous?

↳pierregasly: if nervous includes texting me over 200 times in an hour with different pick up lines and selfies asking how his hair and outfit looked?

↳pierregasly: yes

↳charles_leclerc: im going to run you over 😄

↳scuderiaferrari: you can’t actually say that Charles!

↳charles_leclerc: for legal reasons this was (not) a joke

↳charles_leclerc: 😁😁😁

↳pierregasly: …I don’t like that emoji calmar

↳charles_leclerc: 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁

user33: the way he sprinted over to her…

↳user34: I have NEVER been so jealous as I am right now

↳yourprivate: ehehehehehe

↳user34: ok no need to rub it our faces

↳yourprivate: why wouldn’t I?

↳charles_leclerc: 🥰🥰🥰🥰

↳yourprivate: 😘😘😘😘❤️❤️❤️❤️

↳user34: right in front of my salad???

user35: wow that highway is calling my name tonight…

↳user36: sleepover!

[boobearymuch]

Their Habits —♡ LADS Scenarios

—♡Summary: Everyone has habits, but not everyone enjoys having you point them out... —♡Tags: gender-neutral, pure fluff —♡A/N: Silly thing I whipped up after being told I bounce my leg too much lolll —♡ masterlist

—♡ Zayne

Zayne squints so much without his glasses. He insists he only needs them when his eyes get tired—but clearly—that wasn’t the case. “Zayne, look!” You eagerly pointed out a flyer posted on the door of his favorite boba spot. They were hosting an event next weekend, it read, and encouraged customers not to miss out on the opportunity. You watched his hazel eyes sharpen into a squint.

“Event…?” He still had trouble reading it, though, and absently tugged your clasped hands forward as he leaned in for a better look. After a few seconds, his eyebrows relaxed, and he hummed appreciatively, “They’re introducing new flavors. Perhaps we should…what?” 

You failed to conceal an amused smile. “You need your glasses, old man.” The nickname was not received well, by any means.

“The text is small.” He answered coolly, “The average person would also have difficulty reading it.” Then he slipped his hand around your waist, eyes narrowing, “And I’m not old.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you laughed, “Have you considered contacts?” The look he gave you was deeply unamused, “No, no, you’re right. You look cuter in glasses, anyway.” Zayne's ears tinted pink under your playful stare. 

“...Let’s go inside before they close.” You pinched his flustered cheeks.

“Are you sure? The menu is so tiny. What if you can’t read it and order the wrong thing?” Your mouth promptly shut after his grip on you tightened in a warning. Zayne remembered to bring his glasses on your next outing (and the one after that).

—♡ Sylus

Sylus hums nonsense when it’s too quiet. It’s like he constantly needs to fill silences with some kind of noise. Even his humming is off-key…

“What song is that?” 

Sylus barely spared you a glance, “What song?” His fingers worked a microfiber cloth into the metal of his pistol. 

“The one you were just humming.”

He huffed, “Didn’t realize I was humming, sweetie.” Then he removed the cloth to admire his handiwork, “Don’t you recognize it?”

You almost felt bad for saying this but, “...No?” Sylus finally glanced up from his work to shoot you a look. A concerning one.

“Really? You had it on repeat all day, yesterday.” Horror dawned on you at the realization, “The chorus has been stuck in my head since morning…” And then a laugh sputtered from your lips. 

“Oh my god, that sounded nothing like it.” Sylus glared and returned his focus to his pistol with what you could only describe as a pout. 

“What a picky kitten.” You bit your lip to stop the smile threatening to break loose. He was a god awful singer, but the room felt emptier without his noise. Gently, you padded over to where he sat, and invited yourself onto his lap. Despite his mood, a hand wrapped around your waist without hesitation.

“Sing it again.” Sylus’ hold on you tightened, “I think I like your version better.” A soft chuckle left him, and quietly, he hummed once more.

—♡ Rafayel

Rafayel taps. All. The. Time. Taps his legs, hands, pens, pencils, anything and everything within reach. And he’ll deny the hell out of it when you ask him to stop. “I wasn’t doing anything,” The candies on his phone screen lit up and exploded with color as he scored another combo. Too engrossed in his phone to realize the arm slung around your shoulders was still tapping you. You leaned into him with a huff.

“You’re doing it now.”

Rafayel gave you a sidelong glance, frowning, “I dunno what you’re talking about, cutie.” You suddenly captured his hand to still it, and Rafayel gave you the most scandalized look, “If you wanna hold it that badly, I’m not stopping you.”

“You’re not even aware you’re doing it,” You blinked incredulously, “Are you?”

Rafayel threw his head back and groaned dramatically, “Doing whaaat?” Then he lifted his head to press his forehead against yours and huffed, “Is this your way of telling me to get off my phone?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You look like a fish up close like this.” Rafayel pulled away to roll his eyes and clicked his phone off.

“Alright, fine, you have my attention.” Then he began tapping his foot, “You know, that’s a little offensive to say to a Lemurian. You could get cancelled for that.”

Your hand drifted to his bouncing knee, and you watched as both your hand and his leg now jumped up and down. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?!”

—♡ Xavier

Xavier is always chewing on something, and it is almost always never gum. It’ll be something random, like a straw from a drink he’d long since finished. The strings of his hoodie, a toothpick. Once, it was a plastic tie. He reminded you of a teething puppy; he’d probably chew on wires if you left him alone long enough. Today, though, his chew toy of choice looked a lot like…

“Xavier, is that my pen?” 

He blinked, eyes floating from his comic book to your frown, “Yours…?” His jaw froze mid-chew. 

“Yeah,” You scooted closer on the couch, “the one from my desk at work.” 

A blush crept along his cheekbones, but he didn’t drop the pen like you expected him to, “...Are you sure?”

Your eyes fell to the pen trapped in the corner of his mouth, “The one with little stars on it? Yeah, that’s mine. I thought I lost it at work, why do you have it?”

The comic book shifted in his hands, “I found it, that’s why.” This explanation would be more convincing if he hadn’t shifted his gaze sideways. His blunt fingernails picked nervously at the corner of his book, curling the edges.

“Xavier,”

“Okay, I borrowed it.” You bit back a chuckle, and he guiltily removed the pen from his mouth. It shined with his spit, and the cap bore teeth marks, “You can have it back.”

You couldn’t hide your grimace fast enough, “...Actually, you can keep it.” Xavier merely blinked before bringing the tip back to his mouth. Then a smile curved the corner of his lips.

“My pen now, hm?”

[nereidprinc3ss]

make me late

in which spencer finds a few minutes to spare with fem!reader in the morning

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence, sub reader, technically dubcon bc he doesn’t ask and she jokingly says stop but it’s not like that I promise, fingering (here we go again), 'slutty' is used to describe an action but not by spencer, spencer slaps r's ass one (1) time, (hot), mild overstimulation a/n: apparently need to post at least one fingering fic per week or i'll fucking die. very short and sweet but as always let me know if you like it, i have a crush on all of you!

You’re used to Spencer’s alarm going off early in the morning—typically you tune it out or sleep right through it. Today, however, it rouses you more than usual. You roll over, blinking your eyes open. 

“Sorry,” Spencer mutters, finally turning it off and leaning over to kiss your head. “Go back to sleep, angel.”

You wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him down again when he tries to get out of bed.

“Don’t go,” you beg into his shirt, slinging a leg over him. His hand slips under your (also his) shirt, rubbing the bare skin of your back.

“I have to. You know that.” 

“I just want you to stay for a little bit,” you insist. 

“No you don’t,” he drawls, voice still gravelly with sleep, “You want to make me late.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say innocently, burying your face further into his shirt as if you could extinguish the heat in your cheeks. 

His hand drops from your back to reach under your thigh, pushing your underwear to the side. You gasp when his fingers make contact with your soaked core, involuntarily pressing your hips closer. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Stop it! That’s not fair!” You squeal, attempting to wriggle away once you regain your senses. But the bastard wraps his arm around your waist like a vice, forcing you to stay in place as he sinks a finger into you with no preamble. Instead of satisfying him with a vocal response, you keep your face hidden in the crook of his shoulder and remain obstinately silent. When he begins to slowly pump his finger, you’re forced to bite the fabric of his shirt to shut yourself up. 

“If you’re not enjoying yourself, I’ll stop,” he says plainly, but obviously he knows that’s the last thing you want. His ring finger joins the other and your mouth falls open, a tiny, choked breath against his skin. “Do you want me to stop?”

Don’t give in, you say to yourself. Wait. What are you not giving in to? Fuck, that feels good. You hum quietly—an excellent display of self-control considering the noises you’re actively holding back. 

“Are we already getting whiny?”

“‘m not whining,” you bite. 

“You’re always whining.” There’s nothing to do but prove him right when he begins massaging that spot inside you with a practiced stroke of his fingers—the one that makes you arch your back further and spread your legs a little wider—makes you oh-so compliant and all together, a bit slutty. But Spencer has told you that by definition, you’re not a slut if it’s just him who you lose all self-respect around. “My pretty girl feels so good, huh?”

You agree with a mindless mumble, forgetting that you were ever going to try and fight the pleasure. 

“It feels so good.”

“I can tell, baby. Listen to the mess you're making.”

Soft, wet sounds emanate from where you’re probably dripping around his fingers. A moan is muffled by his shoulder as your own fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt and sink into the flesh of his waist—though you doubt he minds. 

“Please don’t stop, please please please—" It’s quiet, almost demure as you plead. 

“You’re so sweet when you get like this,” Spencer coos. “I wish you were always so well-behaved.”

No, he doesn’t. Both of you know he loves fucking the attitude out of you, and at times, back into you. But you’re not in any place to correct him right now, as his fingers slip in and out of you so quickly, exactly where you want to be touched. 

“Oh, right—right there, that’s—oh, god,” you squeak. 

Your face is still nuzzled in his shirt, your voice is still so delicate and weak with sleep, rising in pitch with your pleasure until it breaks. 

“Right here? This is where you need it?”

“Yes,” you practically cry, “I’m gonna come, Spence—” your hips rock back and forth to meet each stroke of his fingers inside you, vision going white with with pleasure. 

“Yeah? My pretty girl is gonna come all over my fingers?”

“Mhm!” You speed up the motion of your hips. He chuckles, which might offend you if you were in your right mind, but it’s early, and you’re tired, and your soul is trying to untether itself from your body. 

“Let me feel it, baby. I wanna feel you coming, can you do that for me?”

A breathy keen rushes from your throat as your orgasm begins to suck you out to sea like a riptide, flooding your lungs and blood and everything with so much easy pleasure you’re barely awake and you don’t care one bit. 

“Uh-huh, good girl,” Spencer murmurs, not letting up with his fingers as you fall through your orgasm. Another choked moan takes you by surprise when his free hand falls with a heavy clap to your ass, before rubbing the stinging flesh. “Let go a little bit longer, baby, I’m right here.”

You’re barely breathing, still seeing stars as he continues to fuck you leisurely with his fingers, more out of pure affection than anything else. Eventually he slips them out, teasing gently over your clit as your stomach tenses. But you let him keep going. You’ll do anything to keep him in bed for a few minutes longer. To that end, you gather enough breath to speak. 

“Can you please fuck me?” 

He hums pityingly, moving his hand from between your legs to lovingly soothe the tender skin he’d slapped just a moment ago. 

“You know I can’t, baby. I shouldn’t have even done this. I really have to get a move on.”

“But you did do this,” you say, eager to point out the fallacies in his argument, “which means you could also have sex with me and we could be really fast and you could just take less time getting ready for work.”

Your chin is now resting on his shoulder as you look up at him with wide, imploring eyes, and he leans down to kiss your nose. 

“The answer is going to stay no, sweet thing. I don’t care how much you beg.”

He’s already gently sliding you off of him and getting out of bed as you pout. A few moments pass, and you can’t think of a good retort as he moves about the room, gathering a towel for his shower and digging through the dresser. 

“You’re mean.”

“Aw, poor baby. You only got to come once. Nobody has ever had a harder life than you.” Spencer dodges the pillow you throw and laughs, coming back to lean over the bed as you glower at him. “I’m sorry I woke you up. If you can’t fall back asleep in the time it takes me to shower, I’ll make you fancy coffee.”

“Fine.”

“And I’ll be extra nice to you when I get home.” He kisses your head and then your lips, and then disappears into the bathroom. 

In a completely predictable turn of events, you’re dead to the world by the time he gets out of the shower. He makes you the fancy coffee anyway, leaving it in a thermos on your nightstand. 

He’s late to work. He can't pretend to be sorry.

[jhdyuiee]

Red is for Love

ꨄ︎ pairing: bf!jaehyun x fem!reader

ꨄ︎ warning/tags: smut!, unprotected sex, multiple positions/orgasms, oral (m receiving), kissing/making out, dirty talk, food play, breast play, smacking, rough jae, pet names/name calling

ꨄ︎ w.c: 1.7k

ꨄ︎ a.n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAEHYUN MY BELOVED! 🤍

“so, what do you think?,” you asked the man in front of you, jaehyun, who had his eyes trained on you and every curve of your body.

you were decked out in a new lingerie set, a red one you’d purchased recently. not only to commemorate valentines, but jaehyun’s birthday as well. you were like a beautifully wrapped gift.

wearing a laced bra that had hearts carved in your nipple area, a thin laced thong, and a garter belt attached with red tights. purely decked in red— in love.

“fuck…” jaehyun sultry groans.

he clenched his fist, trying not to get easily tempted by you. but you were just too alluring to him.

“come on, let me give you one last treat,” you playfully said as you sank to your knees.

you held eye contact with jaehyun, your hands working their way to his zipper. you tease his member through his pants, feeling it hardened already. your hands go to unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling his briefs down as well until his member is out and free.

you inched your face closer, getting the delicious whiff of him, sliding your tongue from his balls to his tip. jaehyun’s hands, too, slowly made their way to your hair— gripping a fist of hair.

your moans vibrated along his member as you tried fitting him inside your mouth, your teeth barely grazing him. and once you bottomed him, you began moving your mouth along his member even quicker. jaehyun uses his hands to guide you.

you flutter your eyes to get a sight of jaehyun, a beautiful sight of him falling apart just by feeling your mouth engulfing his cock. your cheeks hollow with the deeper and quicker you took him in your mouth, occasionally bringing your tongue to lick alongside his shaft.

“shit, feels good baby,” jaehyun groans. “but p-please come here.”

jaehyun tries calling you over, but you’re too lost in his cock and making him feel good. you could tell he was almost close by the way he twitched inside your mouth. you couldn’t stop now.

“fuck, i told you, come here,” jaehyun says more aggressively.

and when you don't, he grips your hair tighter and removes you from sucking him off. you whined, pouted up at the man with tear stained eyes.

“such a cock slut, you can’t be away from it for one second,” jaehyun chuckles.

god, you loved this side of him. the side he showed nobody, but you. it turned you on, your cunt twitching at his rough words.

“how can i? i mean look at it,” you replied, kissing his cock repeatedly while maintaining eye contact with him.

he sucks in a breath, shutting his eyes for a split moment. “lap,” he mutters loud enough for you to hear.

and you knew better than to keep him waiting, but something within you couldn’t stop from teasing his cock one last time. stroking it with your hand, licking up his pre-cum one last time before you gave in and straddled his lap.

jaehyun had you right where he wanted, his fingers digging into your hips before going to the curve of your ass. his fingers fondled your ass, stretching your cheeks apart before bringing a hand to roughly smack you, jolting you forward. your arms around his neck as he repeats the action until your ass is nothing but a deep shade of red.

“look at me,” he whispers into your ear.

you moaned, biting your bottom lip as you locked eyes with him. he lunges forward, lips pressing on yours and tongue intruding in. the kiss is nothing but a mess, sloppy exploring inside one another.

all the while his hand touches your thong, pulling it up and you begin bucking your hips as you find the pleasurable sensation he’s giving you just from using your panties. you moaned into his mouth, growing wetter and hungrier to get him inside you.

“pl-please!” you begged, “pu-put it inside.”

jaehyun smiles as he continues devouring you, letting go of your panties– whining at the loss of sensation. you feel his hardened member rubbing you from the back of your ass, feeling his pre-cum too and the way he twitched.

“someone’s eagered,” you teased, pulling away from him.

your hand reaches behind, finding his cock. you lift yourself up, removing your panties first before lining yourself up with his cock. his tip slowly going inside, his cock stretching out and fitting snugly inside you.

jaehyun throws his head back on the couch as he feels your gummy walls hug him tightly. your pussy too addicting already.

you lift yourself up and down his cock, moaning louder with ever thrust. jaehyun just watches intensely, eyes moving from your pleasured face to where you two connected. his fingers making crescent moons on the fat of your ass.

jaehyun helps you on his cock, helping you bounce more quicker on his cock. your tits bouncing along with you, enticing jaehyun. he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his mouth around your nipple, teeth biting down on your areolas. even the laced bra couldn’t stop him from marking you, the fabric slightly tearing from his bites. yet that was the least of your concerns right now.

his cock began twitching inside you, and your pussy tightened around him even more.

“jae-jaehyun,” you moaned his name, hand going to grip his hair.

he looks up from where he played with your tits, eyes fully lustful. “cum baby, let me feel you around my cock,” he groans.

he helps you, fucking into your harder. shouting his name shortly after as you felt yourself release around his cock, jaehyun followed in suit shortly after when he felt how deliciously you wrapped around his cock from your orgasm.

you fall onto him, wrapping your arms around him. your and his pants are the only sound in the room. yet you couldn’t even relax for a minute before you felt jaehyun lift you up.

“wh-what?” you questioned confusedly.

jaehyun doesn’t answer, holding you in his arms with his cock still attached inside you. it wasn’t until he finally laid you down on a cool surface that you realized where you were: the dining table.

you laid there, feeling as jaehyun began taking himself out of your sweet cunt. “mmm,” you whined as you no longer felt him inside you.

jaehyun leaves for a while, walking to his right. you watched from where you laid, watched as he grabbed the birthday cake that was still on the table. jaehyun brings it over, looking down on you. and just when you were going to question what he was going to do with it, he swipes his finger on some frosting and brings it to your nipple. he does the same to the other nipple, coating you in cake frosting before putting the cake back down on the table.

walking back over to you, he pries your legs open. he holds you with his hands, slipping himself back inside. you arched your back off the table, his thrusting going in deep and hard. his tip hitting your cervix, kissing it with every thirst he gives you.

jaehyun bends down, still thrusting, mouth wrapping around your frosting-coveered tit to lick it up. his saliva dripping down the side as he devours your tit, kissing his way to the other one, giving it the same treatment. his hand moving under you, unhooking your bra and removing it.

your tits bounced in his face as he continued thrusting into you. he couldn’t stop his mouth from finding your tits again, squeezing them together as he flicked your areolas. Pouding even harder, fucking you into the table, you wrapped your legs around him.

his fingers going down to your clit, rubbing the neglected bud. and before you knew it you released once more around him. you cling to him through your orgasm, chanting his name and mindlessly kissing his face.

jaehyun too meets his high not long after, coating your walls white once more. his cum was spilling from your pussy, you’d been overstuffed. the sight only turned jaehyun on all the more, he wasn’t close to stopping.

he has you against the wall, your hands against the wall as you bended over for him. his hands rub your ass gently, spreading your cheeks apart so he could go inside. the spilled cum, getting pushed back inside.

his fingers gripping onto your waist as he thrust into you, tip finding your g-spot. his thrust quickened, shoving himself into you deeper until he hit your womb.

your legs grew weak, buckling inward. it didn’t take much until you collapsed on the floor, jaehyun still fucking you from behind. he held you up, and leaned in. he kisses on your exposed neck, marking you down your back.

jaehyun returns behind you, skin slapping throughout the room. his pace is not faltering as he continues to abuse your insides. and at this point you’ve damned lost yourself. you were nothing but a moaning, crying mess that unraveled at the sensation of his cock.

“i’m cu-cuming,” you moan.

jaehyun feels your walls clench, his own cock twitching. he slaps your ass, it jiggles from the impact of his hand and thrust. a sight for sore eyes.

“cum with me baby,” he whispers into your ear.

“fu-fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back as you gushed around his cock again and he painted you with his seed.

your body trembled underneath him, overstimulated cunt quivering. jaehyun slips out, his cum spilling out in loads.

he grabs hold of you, barely consciously feeling as he carries you to the bedroom. he lays you down on the bed before it dips down on his weight.

jaehyun’s lips find yours as he kisses you with much heat and possessiveness. you, too, mindlessly explore his mouth. your tiredness soon becomes a distant feeling as you two soon keep going at it, round after round.

his sweet birthday surprise lasting until the next morning. and by the times you two finally hit the sheets, you were stuffed, overloaded, with his seed.

and unbeknownst to you and jaehyun, a new life had just been conceived. jaehyun’s final gift– well made– our child.

© jhdyuiee

2025. 02. 16

[bangtan-junkie]

Dissonance (Part 2) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

Part 1, Part 2

Genre/Tags: coworker!JK, enemies to lovers, smutttttt, slow burn (ish?), ANGST

Word Count: 6799 words

Synopsis:

After being left alone and humiliated on the floor of a dirty bar bathroom by Jungkook, you had to pick yourself up off the ground (literally). You had to get even, embarrass him like he'd done to you. Maybe you were mean to him before, but you were about to become a nightmare to humble this man. Unfortunately for you, your anger was short sighted, while Jungkook's wasn't. So you never predicted how your plans might backfire on you...

Note:

it's finally fucking here omg. ik it's super late but i'm finally decently satisfied with this. i'm looking forward to writing part 3 bc that's where the tension finally breaks and y'all aren't even ready for the revenge y/n gets lol. i hope y'all enjoy this and it lives up to part 1! i'd love to know your thoughts, if you're still pissed with jk lol, and any suggestions or requests are always welcome! chatting with you guys is my fav part <3

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Dread consumed your senses from the moment you woke up. The weekend had passed, but your chest still burned with rage at the thought of having to see Jungkook again. You hadn't even noticed the time go by over the last two days, too busy seething in your own anger. If you hated Jungkook before, you loathed him now. You forced composure as you got dressed for work. Jungkook already had the upper hand when he'd left you in the bar bathroom. He knew that you'd seen him with the girl afterwards too. You couldn't even think about whether he'd went home with her that night without being sick. After all that, the last thing you wanted was for him to think he had any kind of effect on you. You were going to go back to work with pride and confidence. At least you wanted to.

When you finally got to work, you made a beeline for your desk, pointedly not looking for Jungkook. As you settled in, one of your coworkers stopped by your desk.

"Oh hey Y/n, you feeling any better?" he asked. Your head whipped up, a gentle voice ripping you away from your resentful thoughts. You looked up at him in confusion, eyes settling on his red hair. "From Friday? You left early because you weren't feeling well?"

"Oh, right," you cleared your throat. Just then, you saw Jungkook's unmistakable figure from the corner of your eye. He was talking to someone but you could feel his eyes boring into you. Your blood began to boil but you forced yourself to stay calm. You refused to indulge him at all. "I'm feeling much better actually, thanks Jimin," you replied, shooting your coworker a sweet smile. Jimin was your acquaintance in the office; someone you could actually stand in that place. He was always kind and helpful which automatically made him better than 70% of the people there. Even though you hung out in the same circles, you never really became close friends. Probably because you were always more focused on how annoying Jungkook was whenever you were out. And you were doing it again. You made conversation to force any thoughts of him out of your mind.

"How does your hair seem more red every time I see you?" you asked with a light-hearted laugh.

"I can't be caught slacking. I put in a lot of work to keep this hair ya know," he smiled back at you.

"I still don't know how you got permission from the boss for that," you gestured to his hair. "I asked before and she shut me down so fast." Jimin laughed at the annoyed expression on your face, finding it endearing.

"I guess I'm just that charming," he shrugged, holding back a chuckle. You couldn't help but snicker. Jimin's jokes weren't that different from Jungkook's, but he wasn't obnoxious about it. Jungkook obviously believed his jokes and thought he was god's gift to the world, which made him insufferable. Jimin, on the other hand, didn't take his jokes too seriously and wasn't constantly flirting with anything that moved.

Jungkook, who was barely listening to the person talking to him, had heard your exchange with Jimin. He felt annoyance build in his chest. He knew that if he'd made the same joke, you would've been rolling your eyes and making fun of him. So why were you giggling when Jimin said it? He tried to distract himself by trying to focus on the conversation he was supposed to be having.

A quick chat with Jimin later, you turned back to your desk. You made the mistake of looking up and caught Jungkook's gaze. He looked at you, an indifferent look on his face. He wasn't sure what he was expecting; maybe you'd look away in embarrassment, maybe you'd glare at him angrily. But what he didn't expect was the cold, empty look you gave him - like you were looking right through him, like he wasn't even there. His brows furrowed for a quick second, even more annoyed now. You went right back to work.

That's how the next few days went by. Every time Jungkook was remotely in your vicinity, you'd look through him without ever acknowledging him. If he even tried to walk your way, you left the room immediately. At first, Jungkook thought you were just being childish. But when you regained your confidence after a few days, he knew that you weren't through with him just yet. If he thought your insults were bad before, the newfound loathing you had for him made things ten times worse. It started with you amplifying the spite in your voice when you insulted him for his work. You refused to speak with him directly either, so all the insults were being thrown indirectly and in front of your other coworkers. With every second this continued, Jungkook felt his patience running thin. But if you were stubborn, so was he. He kept up your little game by firing back with his usual sarcastic or flirty remarks. Internally, he was burning with fury, just like you wanted him to.

All the animosity and anger eventually came to its boiling point when you crossed the line for the last time. You had walked to your desk that morning to find that your boss had paired you and Jungkook on the next project. Your skin crawled at the idea of having to work with him over the next few weeks. Part of you wondered if Jungkook had something to do with this. Thinking about him getting your boss on board with making you his partner for this big project was only adding to the fire that was spreading through your body. You already hated the way your boss melted around him, but to think that he could manipulate her to this level? After spiraling for a few minutes, you forced yourself to take deep breaths. You had to remind yourself that you were jumping to conclusions and then convince yourself not to march over to Jungkook's desk and give him a piece of your mind. You tried to get back to work, but all you could think about were what reasonable excuses you could make to get out of this situation. The rest of your morning was spent racking your mind. With no luck, you decided to join your coworkers for lunch; hoping that it would give you a distraction.

Unluckily for you, Jungkook walked into the staff lunchroom soon after, only to find you and some of your other coworkers chatting around the coffee machine. Well, they were chatting and you were busy glaring him down from the second he stepped into the room. Your dark eyes peered at him over the rim of your mug as you sipped your coffee. You knew that there was no way in hell he was going to approach you to talk about this. The solution to your problem practically fell into your lap when you zoned back in to the conversation around you. If he really did get the boss to put you on the project with him, you'd make him regret that decision.

"I can't believe you got that huge project Y/n! You're so lucky," one of them said, playfully pouting.

"Talk about lucky," someone else chimed in, "You even get to work with Jungkook. But I guess that isn't so lucky for you." They laughed lightly, poking fun at you. Clearly they hadn't noticed that Jungkook was in the room, listening.

"Everyone here knows how much you hate him, even the boss. Really, what was she thinking pairing you guys up?" They continued to laugh at your misery. But you weren't annoyed. Instead, your mind lit up with the perfect way to get under Jungkook's skin in that moment. The second he saw the way your eyes lit up, he knew he was in for it. Jungkook prided himself on the fact that everyone liked him and thought highly of him. So what better way to get your revenge and get him to kick you off the project than to take that away from him?

"Yeah," you said skeptically, "She's never paired us up before." You continued to stare directly at Jungkook. Your coworkers looked at you with confusion and amusement.

"What changed this time?" Jimin's voice rang through the room as he walked in to join you. He'd already spotted Jungkook in the other corner of the room, and he saw the dark glint in your eyes. It was clear to him that you were up to something. So he helped you out by stirring the pot a little. Jungkook squinted his eyes at you, annoyed at seeing Jimin again and wondering where you were going with this.

"I think Jungkook really wanted this project," you answered. "And it's easy to get whatever you want when you're fucking the boss," you said, not breaking eye contact for a second. Gasps erupted across the circle as they all looked at you in disbelief. Jimin's brows raised and he scoffed, slightly taken aback that you were making that accusation. But you were more focused on Jungkook's reaction. The look on his face was beyond furious. His eyes darkened and you saw the tick in his jaw as he clenched it.

"Wait, you really think so?" one of them asked, everyone already engrossed in the gossip.

"He is a manwhore," you shrugged. Jimin stifled his laugh, not wanting to be too mean to Jungkook. You finally looked away from Jungkook and back at the group. "And he always gets the good projects. Boss doesn't favour anyone else like that." Your coworkers immediately started gossiping amongst themselves, making random connections because what you said made sense. Some of them already started getting riled up, thinking that their opportunities had been snatched by Jungkook through the boss. You obviously didn't know for sure whether Jungkook was sleeping with your boss or not. But you didn't have to. You just had to plant the idea and you knew your coworkers would jump to conclusions.

"You must be really pissed at him," Jimin whispered, leaning back against the counter. You felt Jungkook's eyes glaring daggers at you but you paid him no attention.

"I promise he had it coming," you whispered back, a devious smirk settling on your lips.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," he chuckled. You just shot him a smirk. When you glanced back at Jungkook, you barely caught him walking out the door. You didn't know what you were expecting. Maybe you wanted him to lose his shit in front of everyone, or yank you out of the room with him. So the disappointment you felt only annoyed you more. By the time you finished your lunch and made your way back to your desk, you already began hearing whispers about Jungkook and your boss. For a moment, you wondered if this was crossing the line. Definitely. But so was getting you to blow him and ditching you in that bathroom. Now you're even. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that he must be seething about the rumours.

A couple hours later, you were being called to your boss' office to discuss the new project she'd assigned you and Jungkook. You reluctantly grabbed your things and made your way there. You couldn't keep in your scoff when you saw Jungkook already there, making your boss giggle about god knows what. Your boss cleared her throat as she noticed you in the doorway, peeling herself off her desk from how far she was leaning forward towards Jungkook. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Way to be subtle.

"Y/n," she announced, "Come, sit down." You forced a smile as you sat down in the chair next to Jungkook. He didn't say anything to you, didn't even bother looking at you. Just being in his proximity was pissing you off, especially since he had nothing to say to you. Obviously he couldn't say anything in front of the boss, but you wanted to see that you'd made him just as angry as he'd made you. Maybe all this rage was clouding your mind and judgement...but who cares?

You pulled out your pen and began taking notes as she started talking about the project. Despite hating working with Jungkook, you weren't going to let that ruin your work on this project. You rolled your eyes when you saw that he wasn't taking notes at all. Of course. As your boss began wrapping up the conversation, you gathered your things again, getting up to leave.

"Listen you two," she started, her tone changing. You raised your brows and sat down, curious what she had to say. "I know you don't like working together, but this is an important project. So please, put your feelings aside and work on this together." You scoffed, forgetting to keep your composure. That's when Jungkook finally looked at you. His eyes were fiery but he looked vaguely amused that you had the courage to scoff at the boss. Your boss was also looking at you expectantly, waiting for an explanation. That was all you needed to decide that maybe you weren't even with him just yet.

"Sorry, but it's not about feelings. Our work ethics don't match. I'd rather work on this alone," you said, straightening your back as you felt like you were in the spotlight. Your boss didn't look too happy.

"This isn't a one person project Y/n," she pointed out.

"I know, but it would honestly be easier to do the work myself instead of having to chase him around, begging him to get anything done." The amusement quickly disappeared from Jungkook's face.

"Excuse me?" he finally spoke. You ignored him.

"Maybe we can switch him out for someone who's actually focused on their work instead of flirting," you boldly stated. Your boss scoffed in disbelief.

"What is your problem? Do you think I want to work with you?" Jungkook spat, just about done with your shit. He shifted in his chair to face you, one hand gripping the armrest hard enough to see the whites of his knuckles. Oh now he had something to say.

"You're lucky to be working on this with me. Or else this project would've gone to shit," you retorted with an equal amount of spite.

"There's a reason I'm on this project Y/n. Because I'm good at my job. So if you're letting your personal feelings affect your professionalism, you need to get a grip." His words stung but you refused to accept that there was some truth to them. He was giving you a taste of your own medicine; humiliating you in front of your boss like you were doing to him. All your self control and common sense went out the window when you felt that embarrassment.

"Yeah, that's why you're on this project," you said sarcastically, referring to the rumour you'd started a few short hours ago. You could practically see his nostrils flare as he willed himself to keep his mouth shut.

"You're out of line Y/n," your boss jumped in. She hadn't heard the rumours yet, but she could clearly see that Jungkook didn't like the implications of what you had said. "I don't care whether you two like each other or not. You will put aside...whatever this is...and work together on this, and that's final," she said firmly. Irritation coursed through you, seeing her take Jungkook's side yet again.

"Yes ma'am," you barely grit through your teeth. You'd be darned if you got fired over Jungkook. You quickly stood up and left, rushing to the file room for a moment to cool down. It was the only place you could get some silence - no one ever really stepped into the filing room because most of your work was stored digitally anyways. You pressed your back to one of the metal cabinets, sliding down to crouch as the door slowly shut. You took some deep breaths to calm down. If you went back out there now, you would rip someone's head off. How did Jungkook have the audacity to continue being a dick to you? You knew you'd without a doubt crossed the line back there, but despite that, you didn't feel even with him yet. After a few moments of dragging your mind away from these thoughts, you took one last deep breath and stood back up. You straightened your skirt and fixed your hair. Since you were already there, you decided to grab some files you needed for the project before going back out there. You turned around, pulling a drawer open and digging through the files before you found them. Just as you pulled them out, you heard the door open behind you. You already knew who it was, getting a waft of his cologne. Your heart already began beating faster, not knowing what to anticipate. There was a beat of silence as the door slowly shut.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jungkook grit through his teeth, trying to keep his voice down. You didn't bother turning around or replying to him. Any semblance of self control he had left snapped when you didn't even acknowledge him. With three quick strides, he was right behind you, pressing you face flat against the cabinets. He yanked one of your hands behind your back, making you drop your files. You yelped as his entire body caged you in, slight panic rising in your chest.

"You don't get to ignore me now," he snapped, voice low. "You haven't shut the fuck up for the last few days, don't start now." He yanked your arm down further so he could hold your wrist with one hand. You groaned at the ache, but decided against complaining about it. His anger was palpable; you could practically feel it seeping through your skin, igniting your own fury. In the shock of the moment, you'd almost forgotten that Jungkook wasn't the only one with reason to be upset. This was all a consequence of his insanely disrespectful behaviour, and he had the nerve to be mad at you now?

"What is it? What's got you so fucking riled up, hmm?" He sounded bewildered, gritting the words through his teeth. The more he pressed against you, the harder it got to ignore the heat building in you. An ugly satisfaction was creeping through you seeing the way you'd managed to get under his skin. This was what you wanted; to see that you'd affected him.

"Didn't get enough cock last time? That it?" he growled, bending down next to your ear. His words pierced right through you, as if he knew exactly which buttons to press.

"Fuck you," you spat before you could compose yourself. You strained in his hold, your arm coming up to elbow him in the ribs. To your dismay, Jungkook predicted your move and held you tighter, keeping you still.

"I thought it'd be enough to keep you satiated for at least a week. But you're just a cock hungry whore hm? " he taunted, his lips grazing your ear and sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. "I should've fucked your throat a little harder. Wouldn't be able to lie about me to everyone - including our boss - then, would you?" Despite the bitterness in his voice, your body reacted to his words. Your mind was scolding itself for the rush of arousal that coursed through you. How was he still affecting you like this?

You shook your head clear. No. He wasn't going to have his way this time.

"Lie? I haven't lied about anything," you replied with a snarky tone. Jungkook chuckled in disbelief. He quickly flipped you around so you were forced to face him. You didn't hesitate to meet his ravenous gaze with your own.

"No? So you really think I'm sleeping with the boss?" he asked, tone getting serious. You shrugged nonchalantly, annoying him more.

"You'll fuck anything that moves," you jabbed. "At least fucking the boss has some real benefits unlike the girl from the bar. Maybe she'd even give you a raise if you could satisfy her properly." Jungkook couldn't hide the disgust that flared across his features; insulted that you thought so little of him. The urge to shut you up was growing stronger by the second, burning through his insides. You were going to drive him insane.

"Watch yourself," he warned, the words coming out dark and gravelly. But the surge of excitement that you felt, knowing that you had managed to provoke him, was addicting. You wanted more.

"If it was anyone else, I'd be all for it. Get that bag, you know?" you said with indifference. "But you? I thought the boss had better taste. Her bar must be in hell." That was enough for Jungkook. Before you even had a second to process what was happening, one of his hands was wrapped around your neck. His fingers dug into the flesh, limiting your breath in the most delicious way.

"You didn't seem to think so when you were begging me to touch you - to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom," he growled, stepping closer, face inches from yours.

"Yeah, obviously I expected too much," you sneered. "You don't know how to please anyone but yourself. Boss must be a real masochist to keep going back to you. Poor thing," you tutted, knowing you'd practically nailed the head in your own coffin before you'd even finished your thought. Jungkook's face contorted in a snarl as his grip tightened around your throat. You gasped, the dark swirl in your core intensifying.

"Maybe I should talk to her," you patronized, chasing the high from pissing him off. "I can recommend someone who can actually make her feel good - get her off. A man. Not a selfish boy," you emphasized. "Think she'll like me better than you after that?" With that, his other hand was pressed firmly against your mouth, effectively shutting you up. You grunted at the sheer pressure of his hold, now struggling to breathe.

"You just don't shut up, do you?" he spat. The look in his eyes was nearly feral; like he was going to eat you alive. His ego took a hit to your words, even though he knew you didn't actually believe everything you'd said. Still, you seemed to be stuck on his 'selfishness'. It infuriated him that you didn't understand why he wasn't giving you what you wanted, but he'd had enough of you running your mouth. If you'd forgotten how easily he made you melt under his touch, he'd just have to remind you. And make sure you never forgot again.

With each passing second of silent seething, you thought he might actually choke you out. But then he let go of you. You gasped for air, coughing as you caught your breath. Just as you were about to shoot him the dirtiest look you could muster, Jungkook sank to his knees. The snarky remark on your tongue vanished as you watched him kneel in front of you, looking up at you with a carnivorous gaze. Lust consumed your senses as he wordlessly loosened his tie, tugging at the collar of his shirt. You'd think that seeing him on his knees would make you feel more powerful in the situation. But the hunger in his eyes made it clear that he was still very much in control.

Simply put: Jungkook, in a suit and on his knees, was enough to wipe away your last bit of common sense.

"This is what you want, right?" he asked, his hands slipping under your skirt. You felt paralyzed, your breath caught in your throat. His hands moved up your thighs, slowly dragging your skirt up with them. "You wanna cum, yeah?" You were genuinely struggling to form any thoughts, your senses heightened.

"Want me to make you cum?" A strangled groan bubbled in your throat at his tone. He'd barely done a thing and your breathing was already heavy. So much for your resolve. As your skirt bunched above your hips, you suddenly became hyper aware of your situation. You were still at work, in a file room, door unlocked.

"Someone could walk in," you gasped, trying to convince yourself that you didn't want this. He ignored you, trailing his fingers down your hips and legs instead. "We've already been gone for a while. What if someone comes looking?" You desperately tried to focus your wandering mind.

"I guess I should hurry then," he sneered, shooting you a glare. Then his fingers were sliding between your legs, making you close your eyes and sigh as they eased the ache in your clit. By that point you were too far gone to even feel embarrassed about having soaked through your panties. Jungkook hissed as your slick coated his digits. "I put the bar in hell, but still, you get so wet for me," he snapped, adding more pressure. For the first time all day, you had nothing to quip back with. Your sweet silence was like music to his ears. Mindful of the time, Jungkook hooked his fingers in your underwear and pulled them down your legs. You knew there was no going back as you stepped out of them. Your knees felt weak as you watched him hastily shove them in his pocket. But before you could ask what he was planning on doing with them, he hooked a hand under your thigh, lifting your leg up and to the side. With your legs spread and your pussy staring him in the face, Jungkook was struggling to control himself. He wanted to tease you - make you beg and plead - but he didn't. Fuck. He couldn't; not when he felt like he'd lose his sanity if he didn't taste you right away.

Without wasting another second, his lips were pressed to you, the velvety heat of his mouth engulfing you as his tongue licked at your wetness. Your mouth was left agape as your hands buried into his hair, using the locks to keep yourself tethered. Jungkook groaned into your heat; he felt like he was getting drunk off of you. His fingers dug into your thighs as he hungrily lapped at your pussy. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a drawn out moan as his lips wrapped around your clit, creating the perfect amount of suction. You would've thought he was starved seeing the vigor with which he ate you out. He didn't stop, didn't pull away for a single breath - too consumed with the taste of you on his tongue. You were embarrassingly close already, struggling to contain your moans and whimpers. You bit your lip, trying to hold them in, but another particular harsh lick to your clit had you groaning Jungkook's name. Seeing you unravel so quickly only fueled Jungkook's appetite; the sound of his name on your lips going straight to his aching cock. All it took was him groaning into your cunt after that to send you over the edge. Your fingers yanked at his hair, desperately pulling him closer as you felt the white heat build up.

"Jungkook, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cursed, voice whiny as you tried to keep quiet. "Gonna cum," you moaned right as you crashed over the edge. Jungkook felt you tense in his hold as you came on his tongue. He diligently lapped at your slit, sure to pay attention to your clit as well to help you ride out your orgasm. He slowed down as you came down from your high. Naturally, your legs tried to close together once his tongue became overstimulating. But Jungkook's hold was firm, keeping your legs apart. You tried to catch your breath, mind reeling from the mix of pleasure and pain flooding your senses.

"Jungkook... wait," is all you managed to get out. He ignored you again, picking up his pace despite your cringing.

"So fucking good," he growled against you, like he hated admitting it to himself. It felt weird hearing him compliment you after all the bickering and degrading earlier. Yet you couldn't deny that it boosted your ego seeing him so fucked out and angry. He pushed you further up against the cabinets, giving himself better access to you and delving his tongue into your dripping hole. And just like that, the sensitivity was replaced with a delicious pleasure once again.

"Please, wait..." you breathlessly pleaded. In contrast to the last orgasm, he was building this one up slowly. Unfortunately for you, that meant it felt twice as intense and you were getting increasingly worried about being caught.

"Thought you wanted to cum, sweetheart," he mocked. "That's why you're being such a bitch, right? Mad that I didn't make you cum last time?" he grit through his teeth. You cursed him under your breath, but were more focused on the feeling of his soft lips against. You finally looked down at him properly, ready to glare at him. But the second you saw his dark eyes staring up at you, the rest of his face buried between your legs, you lost your train of thought entirely. Then you saw his hand sprawled across your lower stomach while his thumb rubbed circles into your clit. Fuck, why was he so hot?

"What if we get caught?" you half-heartedly complained, trying to muffle your whimpers.

"They'll see what a fucking slut you are for me then," he grunted. You slapped a hand over your mouth when he picked up his pace, continuing to plunge his tongue in and out of you. "Keep your hands down," he demanded, pressing harder on your clit. "You're gonna keep moaning like that for me," he hissed, delving right back into the heat of your cunt. In that moment, all you heard was his demanding tone and your hands instinctively went back to his hair without a second thought. You whined, trying to keep your voice down as he slowly built up your pleasure.

"Good," he praised, his words muffled as he continued to eat you out. "I should make you scream, so that everyone knows that you, Y/n, are cumming on my tongue." His words were bitter but they turned you on more. You clearly had some problems. It didn't take very long after that to feel that white heat building up again. Jungkook could tell you were almost there, so he sped up the pace of his fingers and plunged his tongue deeper into you. "Including our boss," he rasped. And then you were cumming again; gripping tightly onto his hair and groaning his name once more.

"There you go," he coaxed, letting you ride his face. You hadn't realized, but at some point, your hips had started moving on their own. Seeing you with your eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open, as you unraveled under his touch, only fueled Jungkook's hunger. When you started coming down, he finally pulled away; giving you a second of reprieve. That was until you looked down to see his blown out, dark eyes staring at you. His mouth and chin were covered in your juices and he looked ravenous. He quickly pulled off his suit jacket, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt, eyes never leaving yours. Your chest heaved; partly because you were still catching your breath, and partly because of how fucking hot Jungkook looked in the moment. His hands went right back to your thighs, pulling them apart once more.

"Wait, what're you doing?!" you asked, eyes going wide. "I can't cum again, please," you nearly cried. His fingers dug into your thighs as he watched you plead.

"You can and you will," he said firmly. "You know why?" He slid his fingers between your folds, gathering all the wetness that had pooled. "Because you fucking love my touch," he growled. Your already weak knees felt even weaker.

"You're so desperate for it; for my mouth, my fingers, my cock." Your legs threatened to buckle under you if it weren't for Jungkook's hand holding you up. "So desperate that you're being such a fucking brat," he spat. "Trying to piss me off. So, what? So that I'd finally touch you again?" he mocked. Your senses were overwhelmed and his words settled in a pit in your stomach. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes; whether it was because of his harsh words or the overstimulation of his fingers, you weren't sure. Just as you were about to retort, Jungkook slipped a slender finger into you which slid in smoothly with how wet you were. He let out a throaty groan, quickly slipping another finger into you and curling them upwards. You nearly doubled over as he pressed right into your g-spot.

"See how tuned your body is to me? I've barely done a thing and you're already a mess," he taunted. Seeing how flimsy your legs had gotten, he quickly threw the leg he was holding over his shoulder, getting even closer to you. His name left your lips in a whine, your body torn between pleasure and worry. "Well here, I'm giving you what you want." He punctuated his words by curling his fingers again, making you moan. "You wanna cum? I'll make you cum...over and over again, so you never forget how good I make you feel." And with that, he finally pulled his fingers out before slamming them back into you, setting a hard pace.

Your mind was left blank, so consumed with pleasure that you couldn't even think about staying quiet. Whimpers and moans shamelessly tumbled out of you as he filled you up so delightfully. Jungkook wasn't unaffected either. Feeling how warm and wet you were was driving him up the wall, numbing his own thoughts.

"So wet for me, fuck. My cock would slide right into you with how drenched you are," he thought out loud. He felt you tighten around his fingers, making him snarl and pick up his pace. "Filthy fucking cockslut. I can't wait to feel you tighten around me like that when I'm fucking all this brattiness out of you," he growled, voice low. You could only moan in response.

"Jungkook, s-slow down, please," you begged, knowing that you wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. Before you knew it, his free hand came down on your pussy, leaving a delicious sting spreading through you. A half yelp-half moan sound came out of you, making Jungkook scoff.

"You're gonna take what I give you, like a good little slut," he grunted. "What do you have to say now Y/n?" he asked, annoyance lacing his voice. "You're so convinced I'm fucking every woman and leaving them unsatisfied. Do you feel satisfied yet?" With his fingers pumping you, grazing your g-spot with every thrust, it was nearly impossible for you to form a coherent thought. When you didn't answer, he gave your pussy another smack, making you hiss.

"Answer me," he demanded, "How do you feel now Y/n?"

"F-feel good," is all you could come up with. Jungkook chuckled at your fucked out state.

"Who's making you feel good sweetheart?"

"You," you moaned, feeling yourself reach your climax again. "Oh my god. Jungkook, please...don't stop. Feels so good, I'm gonna-"

Jungkook's ego inflated as you finally found your words again, saying exactly what he wanted to hear. Hearing you beg for him almost made up for all the shit you'd put him through that day. Almost. You were creaming on his fingers before you could even finish your sentence, moaning his name way louder than you should.

"Now you're finally being a good girl," he praised, continuing to pump his fingers through your orgasm. "Fuck, you're getting so tight. Keep cumming on my fingers like that, yeah?" he groaned, imagining how good you would feel on his cock. Your orgasm was so powerful, you were cumming for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook didn't mind; continuing to work you through it. When it was finally over, your legs gave out. Jungkook quickly caught you as you collapsed, and he placed you down on his discarded jacket on the floor. You closed your eyes and waited for your heart rate to go back to normal. When you opened your eyes after a few moments, Jungkook was still kneeling in front of you. His gaze was trained on your still exposed cunt and he had slipped his soaked fingers into his mouth, tasting you all over again. You worried for second that he still wasn't done with you. He slowly dragged his glazed over eyes to meet your. You gulped at the voracious look on his face, your legs instinctively closing.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was battling with his own insatiable thoughts. He knew he couldn't forget about this, about you, about your pussy after this. As infuriating and insufferable you were, he couldn't deny how good you tasted and felt. And he sure as hell couldn't deny how hard you'd gotten him either. With his hormones surging through him, all he could think about was being inside you, in any way. He saw the look on your face and nearly scoffed. You fucked up his reputation and humiliated him all because you wanted to cum, and now you couldn't take it. He took a deep breath, forcing his thoughts away so he could be rational.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna make you cum again," he said. You scoffed, easing up a little with his reassurance. "You got what you wanted, right? Now maybe you'll keep your mouth shut." The high of your pleasure was wearing off and the weight of his words were hitting you. Did he really just think you were desperate for him? Had he forgotten how he was shamelessly flirting with that other girl right after leaving you in that bathroom? Reality finally caught up with you, and you realized how vulnerable you'd made yourself to him. If someone came in right now, the only person who'd be humiliated was you. Clearly, all of this was just a game to him; a way to shut you up. Jungkook was toying with you and you were letting him. A similar shame and hurt creeped across your skin as the night he'd left you in the bar bathroom. Part of you had started to feel bad about what you'd done earlier, but if Jungkook really was just using you, then you were still nowhere near even.

Without saying a word, you stood up, pulling your skirt back down. In the process, you remembered that he'd taken your underwear. But you'd have to talk to him to ask for them back, and the last thing you wanted to do was talk to him. You'd just have to clean up later and make it through the day without them. You straightened your clothes, trying to make them look as less wrinkly as possible, avoiding Jungkook's piercing gaze. When you finally felt like you looked presentable, that's when you looked at him. This time it was him that was left a mess. His hair was ruined by all the grabbing and pulling you'd done, and his collar was soaked with your juices. You looked at his jacket that you were not standing on, and sure enough, you'd left a wet spot and now heel marks on it too. It made you feel a little better, knowing that this time he'd have to fix himself up instead of you. You picked up his jacket with the toe of your shoe before kicking it over to him. You shot him a cold look.

"You're an asshole," you stated before walking out the door. Jungkook was left on the floor, even more frustrated. He'd felt more gratified after putting you in your place, but then what was that? You'd obviously enjoyed yourself, so what was the problem now? He groaned loudly. Despite his anger, the bulge in his pants was now aching. Everything about you was infuriating to him, so how did you have this much of an affect on him? His mind wandered back to how you felt in his hands and on his tongue. He growled as he palmed his crotch, slowly taking out his hard cock. He stroked himself harshly with the frustration you'd left him with. He quickly pulled out your panties from his pocket, unable to stop himself. His head rolled back and your name spilled past his lips along with low groans as he brought up the thin fabric to his face.

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Tag List: @myjungkookthighs @bemuas @junecat18 @exortedgoods @jahnaviii @jk97bam @itsmekylabear @blueberriesm @marvelbun @vantelover1306 @runariya @btstrology @diame93 @curse-of-art @minyoongi7016

[mcrdvcks]

Could I request a one shot of Old Man Logan? Something with fluff and angst like a huge argument between him and his other half and Laura works to get them to make up after days of not talking

things i wish you said

chapter summary: You and Logan get into a fight and Laura tries to get the two of you to see the errors in your ways.

word count: 2.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: thank y'all for sending in requests! i've been working on the last chapter of i love you, in every time but i ran into a bit of writer's block so the requests really helped <3

anyways, i hope this was what you wanted anon!

warnings/tags: au of 'logan (2017)' aka logan doesn't die at the end, arguments, angst, laura being smarter than reader and logan, really this is just laura being a smartass, fluff

"I can’t believe you!” You set the dish towel angrily down on the counter, glaring at Logan. “You are the most stubborn man I have ever met.”

Logan leaned back against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression hard. “Yeah? Well, someone’s gotta be stubborn, considering you’re trying to fix a situation that ain’t broken.”

“It is broken, Logan!” you snapped, pointing a finger at him. “You just refuse to see it because that’s what you do! Shut everything out, pretend like nothing’s wrong until it all blows up in your face.”

His jaw clenched, and he shook his head. “What’s wrong is you makin’ a mountain out of a molehill. I said I’ll handle it.”

“You handling it usually means disappearing for a week and coming back bloodied and brooding!” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “God forbid you actually let someone help you for once.”

“I don’t need your help!” he barked, his voice rising. “I’ve been doin’ just fine on my own for years.”

“And look where that’s gotten you!” The words came out sharper than you intended, but the frustration boiling in your chest wouldn’t let you stop. “You’re not on your own anymore, Logan. When are you gonna get that through your thick skull?”

Logan’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, his voice dropped to a dangerous low. “You don’t think I know that? I didn’t ask for any of this, but here we are. I’m doin’ the best I can, and it ain’t enough for you, is it?”

“That’s not what I said!” You took a step toward him, shaking your head in disbelief. “But you don’t even try to meet me halfway. You just... shut down and push me out the second it gets hard.”

“Maybe I’m tryin’ to protect you,” he shot back, his words laced with frustration.

“From what? From you?” Your voice cracked, the argument chipping away at the walls you’d built to keep your own emotions in check. “I’m not scared of you, Logan. What scares me is losing you because you’re too damn stubborn to let anyone in.”

Logan’s mouth opened as if to retort, but no words came. He stood there, breathing hard, the weight of your words hanging heavy between you. Without another word, he turned and stalked out of the room, the screen door slamming behind him.

You stood there, staring at the door, your heart pounding. Part of you wanted to go after him, to yell more, to make him understand. But another part of you was too tired—too hurt.

The house was quiet now, save for the faint creak of the floorboards as Laura walked in from the hallway. She didn’t say anything right away, just hovered in the doorway, her arms crossed in that way that made her look far older than her twelve years.

“You two are so loud,” she finally said, her tone flat but edged with something that sounded suspiciously like annoyance.

You groaned, dropping your hands and looking over at her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Laura replied, stepping further into the kitchen. She pulled out a chair and sat across from you, her sharp gaze studying your face. “You’re crying.”

You swiped at your cheek quickly, though you weren’t sure why. Laura didn’t miss much. “It’s nothing, kiddo.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” she said, her tone even. She leaned her elbows on the table, her small hands clasped together. “You and Logan fight all the time now.”

“That’s not true,” you replied automatically, though the words felt hollow as soon as you said them.

Laura just stared at you, unblinking. “It is.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Sometimes grown-ups argue. That’s just how it is.”

“Yeah, but you’re mad at him all the time. And he’s mad at himself. It’s annoying.” Her bluntness cut through you, and she tilted her head. “Are you going to leave?”

“What? No.” The question startled you, and you leaned forward. “No, Laura. I’m not going anywhere. I love Logan. I just... wish he’d stop shutting me out.”

Laura didn’t say anything for a while. She just stared at you, her gaze as sharp as ever, like she was picking apart everything you’d just said.

Finally, she shrugged. “Then tell him.”

You blinked. “I have told him.”

“No, you yelled at him.” Her voice was flat, matter-of-fact, and it made you feel about two inches tall. “That’s not the same.”

You sighed, running a hand over your face. “It’s complicated, kid.”

Laura tilted her head. “No, it’s not. You’re mad. He’s mad. You both stop talking. Then you stay mad.”

You stared at her, caught off guard by how simple she made it sound. “It’s not that easy.”

Laura didn’t respond to that, just gave you a look—one of those looks that made you realize this twelve-year-old could probably win a staring contest with the Grim Reaper. She stood up without another word and walked back toward the hallway, leaving you sitting there with a mix of frustration, guilt, and... something else you couldn’t quite name.

---

The next few days were... quiet. Too quiet. Logan didn’t come around much, and when he did, it was brief—mostly to grab a beer or say a gruff goodnight. You didn’t push him, not yet, but the silence between you was its own kind of argument.

You also knew that he wasn’t sleeping in bed with you. You could tell because you’d wake up early for work, only to find Logan sprawled out on the couch, his legs dangling off the armrest. You would’ve woken him up—told him to go to bed while you left—but you stopped yourself every time. The anger hadn’t completely faded, but it had started to feel hollow, replaced by something heavier.

This morning was no different. You paused in the living room doorway, coffee in hand, watching him. He was fast asleep, one arm thrown over his face, the other hanging off the edge of the couch. You sighed quietly to yourself.

“Just go to bed, idiot,” you muttered under your breath, knowing he wouldn’t hear it.

---

Laura stood in the doorway of the garage, watching Logan fiddle with the same part of the truck he’d been pretending to fix for the past twenty minutes. She didn’t say anything at first—just stood there, arms crossed, her quiet presence heavy enough that Logan eventually sighed.

“You gonna say somethin’ or just stand there starin’?” he muttered without looking up, his voice rough.

Laura shrugged. “You’re not fixing anything.”

Logan’s hands paused for half a second before he went back to the wrench, a little harder this time. “Truck needs work.”

“It doesn’t,” Laura said bluntly. “You’re hiding.”

Logan froze again, jaw tightening. “Ain’t hidin’.”

“You are,” she insisted. Laura took a step closer, eyeing him like he was some kind of experiment she was studying. “You and Y/N are mad. It’s annoying.”

Logan finally looked up at her, scowling. “What’s annoying is you stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong.”

Laura didn’t flinch. She just stared at him, unfazed as ever. “If you don’t talk to her, she’s going to leave.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, and his grip on the wrench tightened. “She’s not gonna leave.”

Laura raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Logan stared at her, expression unreadable, but he didn’t answer. He looked back at the truck instead, as if the bolts and metal could give him something to focus on. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, kid.”

Laura stepped closer, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. “I know you. And I know her. She cries when you’re not looking.”

Logan stilled, his shoulders tensing, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t want to hear it—didn’t want to think about it.

Laura didn’t stop. “You think shutting her out makes her safer, but it doesn’t. It just makes her sad.”

“Laura,” Logan said sharply, his voice low.

She ignored the warning in his tone. “You don’t want her to leave, but you’re acting like you do.”

That hit something, and Logan finally set the wrench down, exhaling harshly. “You don’t get it.”

“I do.” Laura’s voice was calm, but there was something pointed beneath it. “You’re scared. You don’t want to need her.”

Logan looked at her, his scowl deeper now, though it lacked its usual bite. “Yeah? Where’d you get all that from?”

Laura shrugged. “I watch you. I listen. You’re both loud.”

Logan shook his head and ran a hand over his face, grumbling under his breath. “You’re a real pain, you know that?”

She just tilted her head. “You’re worse.”

Logan let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Great. So now I’m gettin’ life advice from a twelve-year-old.”

Laura shrugged again and turned to leave. “If you don’t talk to her, I will.”

That got his attention. “Hey—”

But she was already walking out of the garage, not bothering to look back. “You’re welcome,” she called flatly.

Logan swore under his breath, watching her disappear. He sat there for a moment, hands resting on his knees, staring at the half-fixed truck. He hated that kid sometimes—hated how she could cut right through him like that.

And worse, she was right.

---

You came back from work late, opting to eat out instead of at home to avoid any awkward interactions. By the time you walked through the door, the house was dark except for the faint glow of the kitchen light. You set your bag down quietly, not wanting to risk waking anyone up.

But as you turned toward the living room, you noticed Logan sitting on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. He wasn’t looking at you—his gaze was fixed on the floor, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely together.

You hesitated, debating whether to say anything or just go straight to bed. Before you could decide, his gravelly voice cut through the silence.

“You didn’t come home last night.”

You froze, then blinked. “What?”

He finally looked up at you, his expression unreadable. “Laura told me. Said she noticed. I didn’t.”

You frowned, your heart sinking a little. “Logan, I—”

“I should’ve noticed,” he interrupted, his voice low, almost too quiet. He leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s on me.”

You crossed your arms, unsure what to say. “I didn’t stay out because of you.”

“Yeah, you did,” he replied bluntly, cutting you off again. “You’re avoiding me. I get it.”

The way he said it—so matter-of-fact, like he was resigned to it—made something twist in your chest. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not avoiding you. I just needed... space.”

Logan scoffed, his lips curling into a humorless smirk. “Space. Right. Because I’m such a walk in the park to be around.”

“Logan—”

“I get it,” he repeated, louder this time, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You don’t have to explain it. I know what I’m like. Hell, Laura reminds me every day.”

You shook your head, stepping closer. “This isn’t about Laura. It’s not even about you being... difficult. It’s about you not letting me in.”

He stiffened at that, his jaw clenching. “I’m tryin’.”

“Are you?” Your voice softened, but the hurt was still there. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re just waiting for me to give up.”

His eyes flicked to yours, and for a second, you thought he might argue. But then he sighed, slumping back against the couch. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice rough, almost bitter. “I don’t know how to let someone in without... screwin’ it all up.”

You stared at him, the anger you’d been holding onto slipping away, replaced by something softer. “You don’t have to have all the answers, Logan. I don’t expect you to be perfect. I just need you to try.”

“I am trying,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “It just... doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

“It is,” you said firmly, stepping closer until you were standing in front of him. “But you can’t keep shutting me out every time things get hard. That’s not how this works.”

He looked up at you, his expression guarded but vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just studied your face like he was trying to decide whether to believe you.

Finally, he let out a long breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees again. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you said softly, your voice steady. “But you have to let me stay.”

Logan nodded slowly, like he was finally starting to understand. “Alright,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “I’ll... figure it out.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” you said, offering a small, tentative smile.

He didn’t smile back, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He leaned back against the couch, his eyes meeting yours. “You eaten?”

You blinked at the sudden change in topic. “What?”

“You look tired,” he said gruffly. “Bet you skipped dinner.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “I grabbed something on the way home.”

"Good," he muttered again, leaning back against the couch with a long exhale. His hand moved to the bottle of whiskey, but instead of picking it up, his fingers drummed against the glass absently.

You hesitated, then walked over to the couch, standing just in front of him. “Logan.”

He looked up at you, his brow furrowing slightly, waiting for you to say whatever was on your mind.

Instead, you sat down beside him, close enough that your knees touched. For a second, neither of you said anything. Then Logan let out another heavy sigh, reached over, and pulled you into his lap with a quiet grunt.

“Logan—”

“Just sit,” he said, his tone softer than usual, though still carrying that gruff edge. One of his hands rested lightly on your hip, the other settled on your thigh. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, and you could feel the tension in him start to ease as he let himself rest against you.

Your hands moved up instinctively, one settling on his arm, the other gently threading through his hair. He didn’t say anything at first, just breathed deeply, the weight of the past few days pressing down on both of you.

“You should come to bed tonight,” you murmured after a while, your voice quiet but steady.

Logan didn’t move, but you felt the way his body tensed under you. “I’m fine out here.”

“You’re not,” you said simply, your fingers brushing through his hair again. “You look miserable on this couch.”

He huffed a quiet laugh against your shoulder. “I’ll survive.”

“That’s not the point,” you pressed. “I want you in bed. With me. Where you belong.”

Logan lifted his head then, his eyes meeting yours. His expression was guarded, but there was something softer there too, like he was considering your words. “You sure you want me there?”

“Of course I’m sure,” you said, your hand moving to cup his jaw. “I always want you there, Logan. Even when I’m mad at you. Especially when I’m mad at you.”

That earned a faint smirk from him, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Didn’t think I was much for sharing a bed with someone.”

“Well, you’re not great at it,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You steal the blankets, and you snore.”

“Don’t snore,” he muttered, his lips twitching slightly.

“You absolutely snore,” you shot back, smiling despite yourself. “But I don’t care. I just want you there.”

Logan studied you for a moment, his hand tightening slightly on your hip. Finally, he gave a small nod. “Alright.���

You smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. “Good.”

For a few minutes, you stayed like that, the silence between you no longer heavy but comfortable. Logan’s head rested against your chest, and you could feel the tension slowly draining out of him as your fingers moved lazily through his hair.

“Y’know,” he muttered after a while, his voice low, “Laura’s a pain in the ass sometimes.”

You chuckled softly. “She’s just looking out for you. For us.”

Logan grunted, his arm tightening around you slightly. “Kid’s too damn smart for her own good.”

“She gets that from you,” you said, smiling.

That earned another faint smirk, though he didn’t argue. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh, his eyes closing as he rested against you. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Good,” you said softly, your hand continuing to stroke his hair.

For the first time in days, the tension between you felt like it was beginning to mend.

[fearcvlt]

❝call me, beep me❞

pairing. sam winchester x fem!reader note. first fic on this account whaaaat. also my first time writing for spn... you guys don't understand how normal i am about this man. hope you enjoy! rbs/feedback is highly appreciated!! tags. nsfw, mdni. season one!sam. no use of y/n. improper use of dean's car. masturbation. phone sex. dirty talk. soft dom!sam. praise kink. needy sam. established relationship. 1.5k words.

Sam is losing his goddamn mind.

He isn’t used to being away from you for this long. The two of you had been living together for months when Dean showed up to the apartment just off campus, and even before you moved in together Sam had spent most of his free time in your dorm room. Sam had no intentions of following after his brother — he was perfectly content here at Stanford. With you.

But then Dean had mentioned their dad, and he could hardly refuse. He thought it would be a quick job. He had every intention of making it back to college for his interview, but he missed it. This is exactly what he came to Stanford to get away from — the constant nights on the road. Moving city to city hunting monsters. The shitty motel rooms.

He’d found an escape with you. A refuge. Without it, he felt like he was going crazy. He’d give anything just to be able to be close to you again. To kiss you and feel your body against his. Sam misses you. Probably to an unhealthy extent. He spends most nights thinking about you, calling you or shooting a text whenever he has the spare time.

It isn’t enough. Being stuck rooming with Dean again is starting to grate on Sam’s nerves. He’s pent up and frustrated, and it’s starting to affect his concentration. If he ends up dying on a hunt because he hasn’t been able to jack off, he thinks the embarrassment will resurrect him just so he can die all over again.

Basically, what he’s trying to say is it isn’t exactly his proudest moment as he waits for Dean to fall asleep before stealing the keys to his Impala. His brother would absolutely kill him if he knew what he was about to do to his baby, but Sam can’t say he particularly cares at this moment.

The cold, late night air bites at his skin as he sneaks out of the motel room, unlocking the car before settling in the passenger seat. His eyes nervously examine the parking lot three times over to make sure no one’s around before he shuts the door, dialling your number. He bites anxiously at his fingernails as he listens to the phone ring out, a shaky exhale leaving him when you finally answer.

“Hey, baby. Sorry it’s late. I didn’t wake you, right?” Sam breathes down the receiver, letting his head fall back against the leather seat.

“Mhm, yeah. S’okay.” You respond sleepily, a soft yawn reaching his ears. He can’t help but smile at the sound. God, he misses you so bad it hurts.

“Sorry, honey, sorry. I just missed you, y’know. Needed to hear you.” He murmurs, his hand sliding down his torso slowly before he reaches the front of his jeans. He gives his half-hard cock a squeeze. God, he was already so needy just from thinking about you in the motel room. He supposes he should feel guilty for waking you just to get off, but with the way his blood is rushing from his head downwards, he can hardly think at all.

“Yeah, well. I miss you, too. You were meant to be back last week.” You huff. Fuck Sam can practically hear the pout in your voice. Imagining your lips is really not helping. His dick twitches uselessly against his pants, and he’s unable to suppress the soft whine that builds in his throat.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Gonna be coming back to you as soon as everything gets wrapped up here. I promise, baby.” He lets out a shaky sigh, lashes fluttering as he props his phone between his shoulder and his cheek. “Can you do something for me?”

“Yeah, ‘course. What’s up?”

“Been thinking about you non-stop, sweet girl. ‘M so hard for you,” Sam hears the sharp intake of breath you take in from his words, which is enough incentive for him to continue. He manages to fumble with his jeans enough to get them unzipped and halfway down his thighs along with his boxers, one hand palming his aching cock as his free hand comes up to hold his phone again. “Want you to touch yourself, baby. Gotta hear you.”

“Sammy,” you breathe, voice low and airy as it reaches his ears. Fuck, he usually hates it when people call him that, but he’s convinced its going to be replaying in his mind on a loop for the foreseeable future. There’s a shuffling of fabric down the line, and then a shaky moan as he assumes your hand slides between your thighs.

“That’s it, good girl.” Sam purrs, long fingers wrapping around his length as a soft groan spills past his lips. His hips twitch, rocking desperately into the tight grip as he starts to stroke himself slowly. “Come on, baby. Talk to me. How’s it feel?”

“Good,” you reply instantly, the slick sounds of your fingers delving into your cunt barely audible in the background. Fuck, he wishes he was there. He can imagine you laid out all pretty for him on the bed, legs spread with your pretty pussy bared for him. He’s going to ruin you when he sees you next. “Feels so good, baby.”

“Mhm, sounds like it.” He murmurs, his thumb swirling over his tip to spread the steadily leaking pre-cum, slicking him up with each shallow pump of his fist. “Bet it’d be even better with me there, huh? I’d make you feel so fucking good, honey. I’d lick you out until you were begging for me… fuuuck, you’d make the prettiest sounds.”

Sam moans, face scrunching up with pleasure as he fucks into his fist faster, tightening his grip around his cock. “Eat that sweet little cunt out until you creamed all over my tongue, get you nice ‘n ready for me. Would you like that, baby?”

“Yeah. Fuck, oh my God. Yeah, Sam.”

“Yeah? Fuck, baby. Gonna come back to you soon, promise.” He says with a shaky gasp, pumping his hand steadily until he’s dripping pre-cum like a faucet. He can’t remember the last time he was this needy. “Gonna press you into the mattress, fuck into you so deep you feel it for weeks. Won’t even let you forget how I feel when I’m halfway across the city; gonna mould that pretty pussy into the shape of my dick so all you can think about is me.”

Sam doesn’t even know where the words are coming from. He’s all but whimpering into the phone as his orgasm draws near, the muscles of his abdomen pulled taut as his hips rut desperately into his tight grip. The sounds of your soft whines and moans from the phone speaker are driving him crazy, the slick sounds of him fucking his fist filling the car. 

“Cum for me, baby. Please. Need to hear it.” He gasps out, thighs twitching and tensing uncontrollably as he attempts to hold on. He hears a sharp grasp from the other side of the phone, then a low, obscene moan of his name. The sound of you reaching your peak has him spilling over his hand, a ragged gasp escaping him as he continues to rock his hips through the aftershocks.

“Fuck.” He chokes out, slumping against the seat as his grip around his cock loosens. He lets his hand fall to his thigh, cringing briefly at the feeling of his cum staining his skin. He listens to your heavy breaths for a moment, swallowing as he tries to collect his thoughts.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Sam says softly, absentmindedly wiping the mess coating his hands on the fabric of his jeans. Cleaning that would be a problem for future Sam.

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘m good.” You reply shakily, and he smiles at the confirmation.

“Good. That’s… good.” He hums softly, letting his eyes shut momentarily. “Meant it, baby. Gonna come see you soon, no matter how this… Dad thing goes.”

“You better.” Comes your soft reply, and Sam can;t help the breathless little laugh that escapes him.

“Yeah, I promise. I’ll be back soon.” He says gently, eyes flicking open again to glance out of the car window. “I should probably go back up to the room. Dean will probably kill me if he catches me like this in his car.”

It’s your turn to laugh, the sound sending a warm, pleasant flutter through Sam’s chest. “Alright. See you around, Sam. Love you.”

“Yeah, baby. Love you, too.” Sam disconnects the phone, quickly tucking himself back into his jeans. He sneaks back into the hotel room, collapsing on his bed with a soft groan. 

His eyes shut, and he finally gets a good night’s rest, thoughts of you lingering in his mind.

[thefreakandthehair]

ornament.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: ornament | wc: 999 | rating: teen & up | tags: eddie pov, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, the party, steve's nuggets (+ friends) love him so much, fluff, tree decorating, getting together

Eddie’s sitting on the couch with sweaty palms between Nancy and Steve with Robin to Steve’s right while the kids, including Will and El who’ve moved back to Indiana permanently, sit in a poorly constructed circle near the Christmas tree. 

The tree Steve hates. 

The reason Eddie’s palms are sweating. 

“I just hate this thing,” Steve had sighed as he flicked on the pre-lit white lights. “When I was a kid, I’d beg for the colored lights and when I’d make ornaments in school, mom would give me this polite smile and then I’d never see them on the tree anywhere. It’s always these stupid red and silver bulbs.”

It hadn’t taken much for Eddie to rally their friends and host an ornament painting party, everyone crammed into his trailer under threat of death if they blew the surprise, but now that’s it’s here, Eddie kind of wants to run and hide. 

What if he hates it? What if he thinks it’s stupid? 

Nancy knocks a knee against his and raises her eyebrows with a quiet smirk. Eddie nods, just one quick jerk of his chin, as his heart clatters in his chest and Nancy excuses herself. It’s telling, probably, that Eddie couldn’t keep the box of ornaments at his trailer because Steve spends too much there with him but Eddie’s too busy wiping his palms on the rough denim of his jeans to unpack that at the moment. 

“Where’s she going?” Steve asks. 

“We don’t need permission to go to the bathroom, do we?” Robin teases, uncharacteristically smooth in her distraction. 

Steve’s too busy needling her back to realize the front door opens and shuts, at least until Nancy comes back in with the shoebox she’d helped Eddie wrap.

“Oh my God, yes!” Dustin pipes up, spotting Nancy and whacking Lucas on the back. “Look!” 

“What—” Steve looks around in confusion, mainly down at the box that’s plopped in his lap. “What’s happening?” 

“Tell him, Eddie!” Max grins at Eddie, always a little too smart and observant for her own good. Or Eddie’s, for that matter. 

“Uh,” he stutters. “Well, we wanted to do something I guess, special? For you? It’s really nothing big but—”

“Will you stop underselling it?” Robin laughs. “It took me days to get that paint off my fingers. It was a big thing!” 

“Paint? What are you talking about?” Steve asks again, huffing. “None of your presents are ready yet, so we can put this under the tree or something and then—”

“Nope, you need this before Christmas. That’s the whole point,” Nancy chides, sitting back down next to Eddie. “Right, Eddie?”

“Yeah,” he nods, meeting Steve’s eyes with a blistering vulnerability he’s sure Steve can see, can maybe even feel with his thigh pressed against Eddie’s. “You should open it.” 

“Alright, alright,” Steve agrees, sliding a finger beneath the neatly folded paper, peeling back the tape and tossing the wrapping paper to the ground. “Did you guys get me new shoes?” 

“Just open it!” Robin snorts beside him and elbows him gently in the stomach. 

Eddie holds his breath and hopes he doesn’t pass out as Steve lifts the lid and finds the handmade ornaments carefully placed in the box. 

On top of strands of multi-colored lights sit a dozen ornaments with tiny hooks ready to be hung on branches. Lucas’ sits on top, painted to look like a basketball. Max’s is made to look like the nail bat he’d once used to save her life. Robin’s is an ice cream scoop with an anchor painted dead center. Dustin’s looks like a can of hairspray which Eddie still doesn’t completely understand but Dustin assured him that Steve would get it. Jonathan and Argyle’s pizza ornament, mailed from California. One after another, Steve pulls out ornament after ornament with splotchy paint by the people who love Steve more than they’ll ever begin to express. 

It’s silent and loud all at once as Eddie watches Steve pick each one up and run his fingers along the imperfections, pausing to pinch the bridge of his nose before he speaks. 

“You… you guys make these?” Steve finally asks; soft, hushed. 

“We did!” El offers with a cheery smile. “It was Eddie’s idea.” 

“Holy shit, this is…” Steve whips over to Eddie, and any nerves he has disappear. He can’t possibly hate it, can’t possibly think it’s stupid when he’s smiling ear to ear, his nose wrinkling from the force of it before he chokes out a laugh that sounds almost like a sob. “Thank you.”

Eddie swallows and feels the heat creeping from beneath his jacket collar. He shrugs and bumps their shoulders together, nods at the kids across the room. “They’re all such great little artists, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t speak for long seconds, staring directly at Eddie until Max, menace that she is, speaks up. 

“You guys can kiss after, okay? Can we decorate the tree now?” 

Oh, she’s never getting a ride to school from him again. 

“Okay, everyone come grab an ornament!” Robin claps her hands together and pats Steve on the back, winking at Eddie as she stands up. 

Neither Eddie nor Steve move.

At least, not until the kids have their backs turned with Robin and Nancy trying their hardest to wrangle the kids into wrapping the lights around the tree. Steve leans over, Eddie’s impression of the vest he’d once thrown at Steve— the same vest that tethered Eddie to life as he’d gripped it with bloody fingers while Steve carried him out of the Upside Down— resting in his palm. 

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Steve whispers, the back of his hand landing on Eddie’s thigh. “Seriously. I can’t tell you… this means a lot, man.” 

“They love you, Harrington,” Eddie tries for subtlety but that’s never been his strong suit. “We all do.”

“C’mon,” Steve nods at the tree, his smile reaching his eyes. “The quicker we get this done, the quicker we can prove Max right.” 

[boofeine]

things that get svt vocal in bed

hello, this is (once was) @wannabelife :/ my acc got suspended, and now im trying to start new on this blog. consider this my first post all over again ig...

WARNINGS: smut headcanons, general reader, mdni

a/n: finals are all done, im baaack fr 🫡 requests are open

tags: @huen1ngk4i @aaniag @svteensworld @unlikelysublimekryptonite

seungcheol gets wrecked with a little bit of pain. nothing too crazy; the grip you have on his biceps, your knuckles white that will leave red marks in his skin later is more than enough to make him lose it. he goes insane when you pull his hair and neck, and scratch his back and abs.

jeonghan loves to hear you, be vocal for him, and you will hear back from him. the little whines of his name you let out makes his cock harder, the low groans making out of his lips as he watches you squirm and moan for him.

joshua loses it all with the skinship. hug him close, press your bodies together tight. he loves how your hard nipples stroke agains his, and your sounds are beautifully on the nap of his ear.

junhui loves when you move to meet up his thrusts. the way you roll your hips onto his while moaning, losing yourself, more desesparate to chase your high than anything else. nothing else matters, makes his hips hault because of you.

soonyoung gets crazy under pressure, truly just push his bottoms "is that all you got?" and he will keep doing a better job each time. he fucks you so good that he, himself, cant believe it feels that amazing, his moans louder and sweaty skin.

wonwoo is only mewling if you edge him, that's the only way you will be hearing those beautiful low husky moans. the overstimulation kicking in, his head going back as he lets out the nastiest moan from the back of his throat with eyes shut.

jihoon is most vocal when you give him head. you will hear him throughout the whole thing, but he gets louder when you look up at him. your gaze fixed on his, his face twisted in pure bliss and plesure, as your mouth is full of him.

seokmin feels he's about to bust his balls when you praise him. "so good, oh my god, you're perfect" "you fuck me so good, im gonna cum" "like that" your sweet words, making him twitch, his lewd moans almost music to your ears.

mingyu gets weak when you take over, rolling his body to the side as you crawl to sit over him. your hands going behind your back, finding stability at his thighs as you ride him with the sounds of him whiny crying out your name.

minghao loves the dirty talk. the way you get bratty and challenging with your words makes him lose it completely. gets him on the edge, grunting and groaning, fucking you restless.

seungkwan also gets louder with a little bit of pain, he's a bit freaky, tho. grip his hair, pull his head back, bite his neck, choke him, i'd even say slap him, i think he can enjoy that too, dig your nails to his skin, and this man will be squirming, moaning, grunting, completely at your mercy.

vernon goes crazy when you beg. the little cry on your tone as you beg him to not stop, to make you cum, to fill you up. and when you wrap your legs around his hips, kneels on his ass and lower back, pulling him deeper inside you, that's his end, he's a sobbing moaning mess.

chan is gasping for air when you put a show for him. his cock dripping and lungs burning as you play with yourself for him, pinching your nipples and swirling on your cunt, has him letting out those needy breathy moans as he watches you.

[naokyunnn]

NSFW and nsfw link ahead...

🐚 rising back from the dead with : Satoru x fem!reader, big dick satoru as usual, pussy rubbing and eventual fuck 😸

Just imagine sweet bf Satoru....

He absolutely love to spoil you, he never asked anything in return, never demanded any weird shit from you other than a simple kiss or just tag along him wherever he wanted to go.

But not when you showed off that cute panties that you bought in set with his money along with other stuff....

For once Satoru wanted to be selfish... he wanted you and nothing else, gosh-- he didn't wanna make you uncomfortable for making it seems like he's doing this in return for your body but-- damn you look so damn cute in those panties. He didn't wanna break an angel like you.

But there you are, lying on your back legs on both sides of Satoru's thighs, his dick relentlessly rubbing under your panties just bumping right on your clit. Frustrated moans and grunts filled the room as you feel the wetness that is now enveloping the front of your panties mixed of your wetness and Satoru's precum.

"Ah--fuck you're killing me with those panties baby- hah" Satoru draws out with a strained groan as he thrust under the material.

Your eyebrows curled upwards while looking down where the two of you rub against one another, the sight of it is enough to draw a moan of your throat.

"Why-- Why can't you just put it in" You almost whined but you knew in the back of your mind that his size will require you so much prep. Satoru let out an almost growl as he grips the top of your thighs.

"You're talking like you can handle it in one go" Satoru flashed you a lazy smirk as those crystal blue eyes look down at your laying position, drinking in your appearance, and how you look so fucked out he's not even doing anything.

His sticky tip run along your wet folds again, pressing his thumb on his length on top of those soaked panties to give more pressure to your clit as he rub his head along your folds. That action is enough to make your head dizzy and clouded in pleasure but your hole still clenches on nothing.

"Please-- 'toru, i dont care i want it inside me fuck!"

Satoru didn't even listen to you as he got lost on the feeling of the soppy feeling of your cunt against his tip-- and fuck, the wet noises too. Satoru knew he was gone.

"Fuuck-- im gonna cum already- fuck fuck" Satoru let out a shaky moan as he started picking up his thrust, the sensation of his swollen tip brushing even more faster against your folds and to your clit now. Satoru pressed down even harder on his length to create more pressure on you.

"Gonna cum-- ah! Gonna cum 'toru" You whimpered before the shuddering feeling washes over you, creating more wetness on Satoru's tip under your soaked panties.

Your moans and whimpers just fueled Satoru's building up orgasm and so, he came so fast coating the mound of your pussy with his load, but he didn't stop there...

A groan draws out of Satoru's throat, breathing heavily as his blue eyes found your fucked out state, chest heaving fast with your eyes closed shut and your mouth slightly agape.

He let out a almost a whimper sound when he kept on rubbing his stingy tip against your folds, making you twitch a bit in overstimulation-- you let out a almost pained moan as Satoru keep on rutting, but due to his cum that coated your folds it made it easy to rub against you over and over until his head just nudged past your hole.

"Fuck--"

The both of you almost said in unison, as a moan slipped out of the both of you. Satoru didn't move, he kept his tip inside your cunt and looked up at you with those hazy eyes.

"Think you can take it?" Satoru asked breathlessly as he carefully move his hip, hands moving the soaked panties aside to see the way your cute pussy hugs the tip of his dick-- and my god, it almost made him cum again.

"Yeah, yes please... just... slow" You replied in between panted breaths, and gulped down dryly. That is enough for Satoru to fuck his tip into you slowly for your comfort but little by little your pussy sucked him in by themselves and you were so damn tight.

"Tight fucking pussy-- Hah" Satoru growled and leaned forward to bury his face against tour neck, thrusting his halfway through dick inside you. You couldn't hide your own moans, voluming up to something you didn't even expect you can.

"Toru--Toru Ah! So big fuuuck-- so good" You moaned like a bitch under Satoru, almost writhing around and grabbing what you can just to ground yourself, Satoru moaned in return, eyes never leaving the way your face contorts in pleasure.

"You can take it baby its okay-- its okay... you taking it sooo good-- Ah" Satoru cooed in between breathy moans and he picked up the pace, fucking his length all the way in and drawing out halfway to thrust in to you again and again.

Your cries filled the room, nasty wet sounds of Satoru fucking you relentlessly goes along with it. It affected Satoru more than he expected to be, goddamnit he loves that he's the one making you fall apart like this that he feel like he's going to cum so fast again.

"Gonna cum again angel-- ohfuckfuck-- Gah" Satoru closed his eyes shut, his hand gripping your hips so tight that it could bruise.

Your hand reached down to rub your own clit so you can cum with Satoru. Glossy eyes look up at his ocean blue ones and just kept the eyes contact.

"Gonna make yourself cum for me? Baby? Huh?" Satoru asked un between his groans, and watched where you're rubbing your clit and let out a guttural moan. "Fuck-- yeah touch yourself"

When Satoru realized what you're doing he just snaps and came hard immediately by just the look in your eyes.

Your orgasm followed, legs twitching around Satoru as he let out a moan along you when you came. He stayed there, slumped on top of you, matching your heavy breathing, not long a while he spoke.

"Next time...hah.... keep on wearing those granny panties so it wont turn me on- ow!" You pinched the side of his ass cheeks in retaliation.

"You saying my old panties are granny panties?" You scoffed before Satoru giggled playfully against your neck.

inspired by this link i saw here... 🫣

divider creds: chilumitos