#while she (sensitive) sees him only like once a month | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonlinos · 9 months ago

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I can hear the siren (Siren part I)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, neighbors AU, strangers to “lovers”

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, voyeurism if you squint, hate sex kind of?, masturbation, thigh riding, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, Hyunjin’s a bit of an asshole but I love him

♡ Word count: 7.9k

♡ Synopsis: To say your new next-door neighbor is loud would be an understatement. Three times a week, at the same time every night, he will laugh and talk loudly for an hour. After that, like clockwork, a cacophony of his groans and moans will fill your room through your shared wall. He’s most certainly entertaining some hookup, or maybe a girlfriend. You frankly don’t care — all you know is you want your peace and quiet back. But you never would’ve guessed what you would find out upon confronting him.

♡ A/N: Once again, I cannot shut up and this ended up being much longer than I had originally wanted. One day, I will write a one-shot that’s less than 5k words, but today is not that day. I listened to Taeyeon’s Siren while writing this, hence the title. Also think the song’s a little fitting to the story.

part II →

Yet another night, yet another two hours of hearing your next-door neighbor moaning like a porn star for anyone to hear. The thin walls of your apartment, coupled with the fact that your room shared a wall with his own bedroom, make it impossible for you not to hear everything that happens inside his bedroom. Earphones have proven futile in muffling his voice, and you can only distract yourself with mindless YouTube videos for so long before you give up and simply wait for him to finish. Quite literally.

You noticed it was his routine: Fridays and weekends — the nights when he would graciously give the entire building a free show.

But that wasn’t all he did. And that’s what stirs up curiosity inside of you.

An hour before the unholy sounds begin, he spends a significant amount of time simply speaking, laughing loudly, and throwing the occasional suggestive comment here and there. But only his voice can be heard, and considering how damn thin the walls are, you can’t help but wonder why that is. Maybe his hookups aren’t into his long, drawn-out conversations, only there to get fucked and dip as fast as possible. Or perhaps it’s a girlfriend, and he enjoys gagging her. Your mind has had plenty of time to run wild with theories, seeing as he moved about a month ago, starting your own personal version of hell on his very first day.

You complained to your landlord three times now. On the first time, you were dismissed as being too sensitive to noise. Maybe invest in some earplugs, she suggested. The second time, after explaining through gritted teeth that perhaps the entire building could also hear him and it would be wise to give him a warning, she assured you that only your apartment had such complaints — after all, it was only the two of you on that floor. And, on your last attempt before you ultimately gave up, your landlord all but berated you for meddling in your neighbor’s business. She argued he was inside his apartment and could do whatever he desired.

And so, you accepted your fate.

As you walk out of the shower, your bliss at the realization that tonight is a Friday dissipates as soon as it dawns on you that you are in for three days in a row of your neighbor and his antics. You groan, reluctantly making your way toward your bedroom, your body aching after sitting at your desk at work all day. So sleeping on the couch was not an option; your limbs only ached even more the day after you did that to try and escape the raucous noise.

Like clockwork, at exactly ten p.m., his loud voice fills the small space of your bedroom.

“I’m actually going out tonight again, so we have to be quick,” he explains. “But you like it when I’m quick, don’t you? Like when I make you cum so fast you barely have time to understand what’s happening.”

You grimace at his words, burying yourself under your blankets. God.

“I’m going clubbing with a couple of friends,” He continues. “Hopefully, I’ll find a nice girl to take home, hm?”

Crossing out the word Girlfriend on your mental notes, you scoff. What a gentleman he is, letting his hook-up know he’ll have to fuck her fast so he can leave to meet another woman to take home.

“Maybe I’ll record a video for you if she lets me. Would you like that, seeing me fuck another woman? I bet you would.”

What the fuck. The word Girlfriend is added back to your list. Maybe the girl is into that shit, and you’re not one to kink shame so long as everything’s consensual. But you surely didn’t consent to knowing that information.

Soon enough, his voice drops to a sultry tone, and incessant hums spill from his lips. And the worst part of your night begins.

You hate to admit it — seeing as the guy makes you lose sleep and disturbs your peace since he’s graced the building with his presence — but his dirty talk, when coupled with his groans, becomes far less unpleasant and much more enticing. Every night, you struggle for an hour with the uncomfortable feeling of arousal between your legs, the way he alternates between praises and vulgar words causing a twinge inside of you. But you never dare to masturbate to the sound of his voice — that would be going too far. Or, at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you follow your rule of waiting for him to finish whatever it is that he’s doing to then finally touch yourself. As you tightly shut your eyes, you focus on your upcoming work assignments, desperately trying to drown out the sound of his voice. Maybe boring yourself to sleep is your only escape.

“Oh, I know how wet you are just watching me — fuck,” he groans, a breathy scoff leaving his lips. “Don’t even gotta tell me. Just touch yourself, it’s okay.”

Your eyes shoot open as it feels as if he’s fucking talking to you. You shake your head, the awful feeling of embarrassment engulfing you in the privacy of your own bedroom.

“I know you want to,” His voice is unrelenting, reverberating through your dark room, punctuated by heavy sighs. “Do it for me, will you? Touch your pretty cunt for me.”

You feel your clit begin to pulse, and a loud groan escapes from your lips. So loud, in fact, you wonder if he heard you through the thin walls as well.

Fuck it, you tell yourself inwardly, it’s not like the guy will ever know what you’re doing.

The sound of his voice was as silky and dark as velvet, covering you wholly and clouding your judgment with each word. You allow your hand to slip underneath your sleep shorts, gasping as you find the fabric of your panties already soaking simply from hearing his words — almost begging, guiding you to let go of your reservations and touch yourself.

“Just like that. D’you like the sound of my voice?” He asked, voice breathless, a deep groan echoing through the walls. “Like hearing me moan for you? Bet you’d like it even more if I was fucking you.”

Your fingers delicately flick back and forth, teasing your clit, your mind now shamelessly imagining his fingertips, his tongue, his cock, anything he was willing to give you. You’re quick to lose yourself in this imagination, despite not knowing what the man looked like — you soon realize that wasn’t at all important, a dark shadowy figure hovering over you proving to be more than enough for you as you felt a rush of wetness pooling between your thighs when your neighbor let out a louder, guttural noise.

“Fuck, I’d love to be stretching that pussy out,” He chokes out, and you bite your bottom lip to keep from making any noise. You’re now hyper-aware that if you can hear him this loudly, he’d be able to hear you with the same amount of clarity.

Your embarrassment only goes so far, though, as you slip a finger into your cunt, your breath hitching and your eyes fluttering closed to better conjure up the fantasy your mind had been creating. You imagine his long fingers inside you in place of your own, the words he spilled almost nonchalantly being whispered directly into your ears. One finger soon turned into two, then three, the heel of your palm rubbing against your clit as you tilt your hips up. You throw away your last drop of inhibition as you indulge in vivid thoughts, imagining the shape and size of his cock and, most importantly, how it would feel as it filled you up. Your neighbor’s words almost faded into white noise, his grunting the only coherent sound in your ears.

Would he take his time with you, like he always did whenever you heard him? Teasing you for hours as he candidly talked about nothing in particular, rendering you unable to do anything but beg for him? Or would he be hasty, like tonight, his cock abruptly stretching you to the brim, making you feel every inch of his thick length? Would he rather finish on your breasts, your stomach, or maybe your face, taking a picture to keep as a souvenir he could show off to whoever he was with during these nights?

“Come with me,” His voice suddenly became clear once more, deep and hoarse as you imagine his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “Think about how good it’d feel to have me come inside you, stuffing that little cunt while you milk me dry.”

You purse your lips as you feel your release approaching, coaxed purely by his words. The mental image of this stranger painting your insides with his release, all the while his intoxicating voice told you how good you were, how warm and tight you felt enough to have waves of pleasure wash over you, body tensing up as your orgasm surges through you.

As you slowly come down from your high, you feel your consciousness come back to you. Your fingers leave your core as if you were just burned by fire, which is fitting as a feeling of burning embarrassment wraps around you tightly like a vice.

But the worst part is that the shame quickly ebbs away as you hear your neighbor’s chuckle, the laugh of a stranger you had come to almost memorize.

“You know I’m always glad to make you come. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, everything around you falls into a quiet stillness. You faintly hear as he shuts his front door, presumably leaving for that club he had mentioned, and you’re left to lie with your regrets.

This has just crossed a line, and although you couldn’t bring yourself to feel all that guilty, you still knew it was wrong. You had no choice but to confront the cause of your troubles yourself.

Unfortunately, that cause was a person you had just shamelessly fantasized about as you fingered yourself.

The next afternoon, you stand at your neighbor’s door, hesitant to knock. Since he mentioned going clubbing last night, you knew coming by in the morning would be futile, but you also know — sadly, all too well — that Saturday nights are when he’s the loudest, and he only stops well past midnight. You settled for the afternoon, preparing lunch as you rehearsed your words in your head instead of enjoying your weekend.

You knock twice, and that familiar voice soon rings through the door, asking for a moment. A minute later, your neighbor is standing in front of you, holding the door open with sleepy eyes that focus on you. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but surely not a tired-looking tall man with messy black hair wearing a pout on his lips, as if you just rudely disturbed him from his sleep (how ironic). From what you heard during the last month, you were ready to have to face a shirtless fuckboy, a permanent smirk etched onto his lips as he eyed you indifferently. Instead, you’re greeted by soft cheeks and half-closed eyes.

“Yeah?” Your neighbor croaks out, face still heavy with sleep.

You clear your throat, returning to the matter at hand. “I’m your next-door neighbor, I—”

“Nice to meet you, neighbor,” he says before you can even finish your rehearsed opening sentence, his lips curling into a small smile. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Somehow, him being so soft is making you hate him even more.

“I wish I could say the same,” you mutter, “Y’know, you’ve been making my life a living hell since you moved in.”

He doesn’t answer, instead running a hand through his hair, the strands falling into place and away from his face. After a small nod, he opens the door all the way.

“Come on in,” he says, promptly walking inside and leaving you standing in the hallway all alone. You have no choice but to follow after him.

He snatches his cup of coffee from the counter, letting out a tired sigh as he collapses onto the couch and takes a big sip. You sit next to him and watch as he swallows slowly, humming contently, and only then speaking again.

“Why is that?”

You hold back another eye roll. “Well, you’re quite noisy at night,” you hesitantly begin, only now grasping just how awkward explaining this situation will be. “On Fridays and on the weekends, you’re… loud.”

And in an instant, you witness a complete shift in his entire demeanor right before your eyes. Like he’s possessed by something, his once sleepy eyes now bore into you with an intense gaze, and his lips curl into the smug grin you were expecting from the start.

“So you can hear me?” He asks as if you hadn’t just told him exactly that. You feel small under the weight of his darkened eyes, but you shrug, doing your best at feigning confidence.

“It’s pretty hard not to hear you,” you answer simply. “We share a wall, in case you didn’t know. I can hear everything you do in your bedroom.”

He raises a brow at your words as if they piqued his interest. But he doesn’t verbalize it; instead, he speaks in that same nonchalant tone you’re used to hearing through your bedroom wall, “You never told me your name. A bit rude, don’t you think?” He offers you his hand. “I’m Hyunjin.”

You scoff but shake his hand regardless, telling him your name with a sigh.

“You know what I think is rude?” You offer him a forced smile. “Keeping your next-door neighbor up all night with how fucking loud you are.”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer. His gaze traces a path from your eyes to your lips before lingering on your thighs. You instinctively cross your legs, fingers smoothing down the fabric of your shorts. Locking his gaze with yours once more after a few seconds, he cocks his head to the side.

“So I’ve been keeping you up all night?” He muses, and you feel a warmth spread across your cheeks at the rough rasp in his voice.

It’s almost as if he knows what you did last night and is teasing you.

Although you know that’s impossible, your words still get choked up. Hyunjin was undeniably attractive — whether it was looking as soft as he did while answering the door or as if he could devour you with his gaze alone as he does now. You couldn’t be blamed for feeling flustered, especially after everything you heard this man saying and doing.

“Well,” you clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. Showing your outrage at this entire situation is your best bet, so you allow for the anger you felt during all those sleepless nights to seep through your veins. “It’s kinda hard to sleep when you’re moaning like a porn star.”

But Hyunjin fully chuckles at that. “So I sound like a porn star?” He nods with an amused hum. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. Never mind anything you had thought upon seeing him open that door; Hyunjin is everything you thought he would be.

“Look, I didn’t come here to stroke your ego. You’re clearly doing just fine in that regard,” you grumble, and he scoffs beside you, leaning back on the couch with a smug expression you want to slap away from his pretty face. “I came here to ask if you could move whatever it is that you do to the living room, or maybe keep it down. I’m sure that’s not too much to ask.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue almost mockingly. “Oh, but it is too much to ask. I can’t really do any of those things. Sorry,” he shrugs, “The building has thin walls. You’re just gonna have to get used to it, I’m afraid.”

You stagger at his words, his lack of common sense seemingly higher than you initially gave him credit for. You’re unsure whether to laugh in sheer disbelief or cuss him out as anger slowly bubbles up inside your chest. How unfairly attractive he looks at the moment isn’t helping your case — he spreads his legs further as he shifts on the couch, bringing his mug up to his full lips and watching you almost uninterestedly with half-lidded eyes.

Fuck this guy.

“What is it you do that’s so important that you can’t at least keep it down? Can’t your girlfriend get off without your obnoxious dirty talk? Is that it?”

Hyunjin shakes his head dismissively. “Don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Your dates, then. I honestly don’t care.” You roll your eyes, which elicits a small laugh from him. You have never wanted to punch someone so badly, all while also wanting them to rearrange your guts. “Whoever it is, whatever it is that you do, can’t we compromise and you be quiet, at least on Fridays? I get home from work exhausted and have to put up with your shit when all I wanna do is sleep.”

“Ah, but Fridays are the most important nights for me,” Hyunjin tells you with a condescending lilt in his voice. “That’s also not possible, I’m so sorry.”

“I see.” You suck in a deep breath, your eyes narrowing and hands curling into fists on your lap. “Then would it be possible for you to move your… activities to the living room?”

Hyunjin contorts his face, shaking his head while that grin is still etched onto his lips. “Yeah, no, that’s also not possible.”

“You’re extremely inflexible, do you know that?” You blurt out, “I’m not asking that you move out, I’m simply asking that you fuck whoever it is that you fuck every weekend somewhere else.”

His piercing gaze lingers on you briefly, as if he’s carefully considering his next words. Sighing, he sets his mug on the end table and sits up straight.

“Let’s make a deal,” he proposes, carelessly ripping a piece of paper from the open sketchbook that lay on the coffee table and jotting something down. “Tonight, you wait for me to start my activities,” he says with a poorly concealed chuckle. “And then you go on this website. Maybe it’ll clear up some things inside your pretty little head. Can you do that for me?”

He hands you the note, eyes darting down to your lips once more before meeting your gaze. The tone of his voice is the same that echoes through your bedroom during those nights — exactly like the one that coaxed an orgasm out of you just last night, and you absentmindedly squeeze your thighs together.

You need to get out of here.

With a small nod, you swiftly stand back on your feet and walk toward the door of his apartment that was left wide open. You quietly mutter a goodbye as Hyunjin says something about it being a pleasure meeting you, all while amusedly staring at you.

It’s only as you close your front door behind you that you look down at the piece of paper that you subconsciously crumpled up. Scrawled in a messy handwriting is simply a website address:

fivestarcam.com

You furrow your brows, walking toward your bedroom as you rack your brain for how a website could possibly give you answers. It dawns on you, then — all the trouble you went through, and yet, no solution to your problem.

Ultimately, you decide you’ve already wasted too much of your patience on this man today, throwing the piece of paper on your bedside table and going about your day, enjoying the tranquility of your apartment while you can.

Night comes too fast, the sun setting outside unbeknownst to you as you lie on the couch for nearly three hours, your focus solely on the plot of the movie playing on your phone. Soon enough, ten p.m. rolls around, and you drag your tired body toward your bathroom. You take a shower with no rush, knowing full well that by the time you walk into your bedroom, Hyunjin’s activities will already have started.

Sure enough, you’re greeted by a drawled-out groan as soon as you enter your room. With a heavy sigh, you throw yourself onto your bed. Your bedroom had always been comforting, your bed almost like a safe haven from all the stress life threw your way. Yet now it’s simply the place where you lie awake for hours, simultaneously vexed and uncomfortably turned on.

You lie still for a while, Hyunjin’s vulgar chatter like the background music to your spacing out, until you remember the piece of paper he gave you earlier. How would a website clear up any of your confusion? And, more importantly, why should you even care enough to find out? From the little interaction you had with the man, you know for a fact Hyunjin will remain unchanging in his obnoxious ways.

However, you’ve always been too curious for your own good, and the mere prospect of understanding this annoyingly enigmatic man even a tiny bit has you hurriedly picking your laptop off the floor and typing out the website address on your browser. Curiosity killed the cat.

The first thing that greets you is a message asking that you verify being over the age of eighteen. All you have to do is click a button, which seems counterintuitive, but you have little time to worry about that when your screen is filled with preview thumbnails of several live broadcasts.

You’ve heard of camming websites before, of course, but you didn’t know they were still a thing nowadays, what with the rise of Only Fans and other more independent ways to go about making money like this.

Your eyes scan the page with agape lips. Men and women — some in their underwear and some already naked, some showing their faces and some wearing masks. And then, your eyes land on a particular thumbnail. At the Top Cammers of The Month section, on the number one spot, is a fully clothed man with familiar long black hair. Only the bottom of his face can be seen due to his camera angle, but that is more than enough as your gaze fixes on his full lips.

That’s undeniably Hyunjin. Your neighbor, Hyunjin.

Before you can make sense of your actions, your fingers are already hovering above the touchpad as you watch the thumbnail image change into a new one. Curiosity is eating away at you, and you can’t deny that your nosy mind is eager to finally see Hyunjin rather than only hear him.

Ultimately, you decide this is ridiculous.

But your twitching fingers brush against the touchpad just as you move to close your laptop, promptly clicking the live video, your screen now filled with the image of Hyunjin in his bedroom. He’s shirtless now, palming himself through his sweatpants — the same ones he wore this afternoon.

“You wanna know how clubbing went last night?” He says with a grin, and you now understand his incessant talking is merely him answering comments from his viewers. Various different names fly through the right side of your screen, some with tips attached to their comments and some simply drooling over Hyunjin as he essentially sits in front of the camera doing nothing.

A cocky smile is spread on his lips once you shift your attention back to him.

“I guess you’re good at following orders,” he chuckles. You then realize your laptop’s volume is on high, and the speaker’s noise permeates through your wall and into Hyunjin’s bedroom. Your eyes shoot open, and you scramble to find your earphones in your bed.

You’re gnawing on your bottom lip as you plug them in, suddenly too aware of the fact that he can hear you just as well as you can hear him. Hyunjin’s smile shifts into a small laugh, his hand wrapping around his length through his sweatpants, the firm outline of his cock straining against the fabric. You feel a tingling sensation spread through your body, your inner muscles clenching as you watch the way his hand squeezes along the thick outline, the muscles of his stomach contracting as he lets out a broken sigh.

This feels wrong, as if you’re nothing more than a pervert watching Hyunjin for your own pleasure. But then again, it was he who gave you the website address in the first place. Why else would he have done that if not for you to watch him?

“I have a special someone watching tonight,” he murmurs, and you can just imagine his gaze right now — his eyes hooded and piercing, locked onto the camera with the same intensity as when he looked at you earlier today.

Hyunjin’s hand reaches inside his sweatpants, withdrawing his cock from the constraints of the dark fabric before you can make sense of what’s happening. Your gaze remains fixed, unable to look away from the red, swollen head that stands out against his pale skin. With lazy movements, he begins stroking himself, the precum dripping from the tip easing the glide of his hand. You bite the inside of your cheek as more arousal leaks from you, gathering in your panties.

“Hope she likes watching just as much as she liked listening to me last night,” Hyunjin rasps out, and you immediately close your laptop, throwing it to the side before burying your face in your pillow.

He knows you got off to his voice. He has to know.

And, unfortunately, your brain is currently too clouded by lust to function properly, and the only logical solution you can come up with is to go knocking at his door tomorrow.

You stand in front of Hyunjin’s door at the same time as yesterday, a strange blend of anger and curiosity making you knock frantically until he answers with that annoyingly alluring smirk on his lips.

“Did you enjoy the show last night?” Hyunjin asks before you can even utter a word, his voice filled with a goading tone.

You push past him, walking into his apartment with a scowl. “Why did you send me that?”

He only shrugs, closing the door behind him before stretching his arms above his head with a sigh. “Needed you to understand why I can’t just stop doing what I do. It’s my job,” he reasons, “I figured showing you was more effective than telling you.”

A scoff involuntarily falls from your lips, and you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. “So you just sent me to a website full of porn without even asking me if that was okay? I don’t care if that’s your fucking job, I never asked you—”

“Did you stay till the end?” He asks, a lazy grin on his lips as his gaze wanders across your face. Clearly, he’d completely ignored every word that came out of your mouth.

“Hyunjin, are you even listening to me?”

“I was thinking about you, y’know?” He continues, taking a step toward you. “Was really easy to come when I knew you were watching me.” He cages your body against the door with his, both hands resting beside your head. His dark gaze locks onto you, causing your breath to hitch. “All I could think about was how you were secretly listening to me all this time. Such a dirty girl.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. You want to tell him you weren’t secretly listening to him; you were merely thrown into this situation against your will. But his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips, lingering before roaming over the swell of your breasts, causing your thoughts to blur and your words to die in your throat.

“Kept thinking about how I never heard you,” he says, almost as if he’s wondering aloud. “When was the last time someone fucked you properly?”

His gaze finally travels back up to yours, and the fog of desire clouding his eyes is unmistakable. The moment you knocked on his door, you knew this would happen. You weren’t naïve, and Hyunjin wasn’t stupid; the moment you pushed past him and into his apartment, you both knew where this was going.

“Don’t have time to go on dates,” you murmur as Hyunjin leans down, humming low on his throat.

“Well,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath tickling your face. “You got to listen to me, got to watch me… Don’t you wanna know what it feels like?”

You can only nod, and Hyunjin immediately presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He wedges his knee firmly between your thighs, as if he’s silently demanding that you give in to him. Little does he know you’re already way past that point.

Breaking the kiss, Hyunjin studies your features for a beat, the pad of his thumb gliding across your bottom lip as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“You really want this?” He asks, and you can’t help but feel he does it simply for the pleasure of hearing you beg.

But you happily comply either way.

“Please,” you breathe out, and Hyunjin chuckles, firmly pressing his thumb into your mouth and watching as you wrap your lips around it with a contented hum. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Hyunjin pushes his thigh against your core, the seam of your shorts creating a delicious friction against your clit. You can feel the warmth of his body as he presses up against you, and a sigh falls from your lips, your hands gliding up around his shoulders. You have no reservations left in your body; the only thing replaying inside your mind at the moment is the image of Hyunjin’s cock on your laptop. He was right. You were dying to know what it would feel like.

His strong hands firmly gripped onto your hips, guiding you to move against his thigh, each back-and-forth motion increasing the pressure on your aching clit. It felt too much, yet not enough at the same time. But just as you’re about to plead for more, Hyunjin’s pressing his lips to yours again and swallowing down your voice. His tongue slides against yours, the taste of coffee and smoke lingering in your mouth as he grazes your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling gently before letting go.

You feel your mind go fully hazy as Hyunjin lifts his thigh, bringing you up to your tiptoes, his muscles flexing and prompting you to roll your hips faster, harder.

“Who would’ve thought, huh? Just minutes ago you were acting like I was the worst person alive,” He lets out a low chuckle, amused, and your grip on his neck tightens as you feel the familiar vexation he brings out of you bubble up inside your chest. “Now you’re humping my leg like a bitch in heat.”

“Shut up,” you choke out, your brain too lust-hazed to conjure up a better response. You don’t particularly care what he thinks of you so long as he keeps his bruising grip on your skin, guiding you to roll your hips against him.

Hyunjin trails kisses down the skin of your neck, settling at the dip of your collarbone and sucking on the skin while you eagerly quicken your speed. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin, undoubtedly marking you, while his thigh begins to bounce against your cunt, and you can feel the familiar aching warmth of your orgasm beginning to tighten in your stomach. But just as you’re about to be hit by the release you’re so desperate for, Hyunjin’s hands leave your hips and slide down to your ass, any stimulation you had before coming to a halt as he picks you up and makes his way to the living room.

“What the fuck?” You all but yell, earning you a hearty laugh from Hyunjin. “I was close, you asshole.”

He roughly throws you onto the couch, a condescending pout etched onto his lips.

“But that’s no fun for me, is it, baby?” He hovers over you, spreading your thighs apart and slotting himself between them. In stark contrast to his words, he gently lifts your shirt over your head, feather-light touch sending shivers down your spine. “Greedy girls don’t get to come.”

You feel your insides clenching at his words, and although you despise the effect he has on you, you’re already here, laid out before him, so you might as well indulge him. You gently push Hyunjin back until he sinks into the sofa, legs lazily spread apart and half-lidded eyes fixated on you. As soon as you clutch at his shirt, he promptly tugs it over his head in one fluid motion, and you attach your lips to the bare skin of his stomach, trailing kisses down the expanse of his torso.

You waste no time tugging his sweatpants down and out of your way, his cock now hanging heavily before you, just as pretty as it had seemed on that little screen. Hyunjin’s hand soon wraps around himself, stroking lazily while you watch the precum dribble from his tip. Tentatively, you grab the base of his cock, bringing your tongue to the head and tantalizingly lapping at it. Hyunjin lets out a quiet gasp, his own hand leaving his length and tangling in your hair, guiding you forward toward his cock. You part your lips and suck the head into your waiting mouth, hands now stroking his length at a slow pace while you lick up his slit, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. You hold back a chuckle when you feel him twitch under your touch, a soft whimper falling from his throat.

Hyunjin’s hips buck up into your lips, and you promptly open your jaw wider and slide his whole length down your throat slowly. You weren’t lying when you said you had no time for dates, which is why you find yourself struggling a bit. It truly had been a while since you had a proper fuck, but you would never give Hyunjin the pleasure of hearing you admit it. Breathing through your nose, you’re finally able to move up and down his cock, swallowing all of him. Your eyes well up as his fingers tug harshly at your hair, shoving your mouth back down the entirety of his thick length. A choked-out whimper falls from your throat, and you instinctively move your gaze toward his.

“God,” he rasps out, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip and eyebrows knitting together. “You take me so well.”

You promptly remove your lips from him with a loud pop, precum and saliva dribbling down your chin as you struggle to suppress a laugh at the utter indignation on his face.

“I doubt you could fuck me if I let you come,” you shrug, and Hyunjin’s expression softens, a scoff falling from his lips.

Before you can say anything else, he’s already pushed you back onto the couch, easily flipping you over so your face is pressed into the cushion. He snakes a hand under your stomach and lifts your hips, quickly working to rid you of your shorts before pressing his cock against your clothed ass.

He leans down, lips pressed against your ear — much like it was in your fantasy back in your bedroom — and whispers, “You need me that badly? I can feel how soaked you are, and all you did was hump my leg.”

You grumble under your breath, but it goes ignored by Hyunjin as he grips your hips and slides his cock under the fabric of your panties, stroking himself along your soaking slit with a low groan. You can feel your underwear gradually dampen more as his precum mixes with your own arousal, the sheer cloth clinging to his cock with each thrust.

Hyunjin’s hand splayed across your lower back, causing you to arch your body and press your hips back instinctively. He chuckles, hand coming down onto the supper flesh of your ass with no warning, a sharp whimper falling from your lips.

“I told you greedy girls don’t get to come,” He reiterates, clicking his tongue and grabbing a large handful of your ass before tugging your panties down your legs. You quietly hoped the trees outside obscured enough of his window, otherwise you’d be in for some interesting elevator rides with your other neighbors. With a hiss, Hyunjin’s thumb presses against your clit before gliding along your wet folds. “Soaking wet,” he mutters, eyes glazed over while he watches your slick coat his finger.

You simply hum, not wanting to stroke his ego any more than you already had by begging him earlier. But you’re unable to contain the gasp that leaves your lips as he pushes his hips forward, the swollen tip of his cock gliding against your warm core once, twice, all while Hyunjin’s hands travel across your ass and thighs. You’re sure he’ll tease you until you give in and beg, but it seems his facade is quick to crumble. He impatiently wraps a hand around his length, finally guiding himself toward your entrance, seamlessly gliding into you with a heavy sigh.

He stills for a second, gaze transfixed by the way your cunt stretches around his thick cock. Until he suddenly pulls out of you before snapping his hips forward again, then again, until he sets a rhythm of deep, fast strokes that have you rocking back and forth on the couch. Pulling yourself up to rest on your forearms, you choke out a loud moan, Hyunjin’s cock twitching inside you at the sound.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, strong arms encircling your body once more, this time pulling you close to him until your back presses against his chest. Hyunjin’s thrusts grew more forceful, the sound of skin slapping together echoing through his small living room as he relentlessly pumped himself into you. His hand wraps in your hair, yanking your head back and humming against your ear, “Go on, you can moan for me,” he hisses, “I know how good it feels.”

Fuck. His ego is surely something you would never get used to.

But you let go, freely groaning at the feeling of his cock pistoning into you. You can feel the curve of his grin against your cheek.

“Like that, I know how much you like it,” he rasps out, “Just as much as you liked touching yourself to my voice like a little slut.”

“Fuck off, you—” you huff, your words cut off by a drawn-out mewl as Hyunjin’s fingers firmly pressed down on your clit, flattening the swollen bud. You couldn’t control yourself after that, desperate whimpers and choked-out moans falling from your lips with each harsh thrust of his hips.

Your sounds seem to stir something inside of him, and his movements grow more erratic, his fingers circling your clit hastily. A crescendo of arousal and pleasure envelops you as more curses tumble from Hyunjin’s lips against your ear, his hand gripping your cheek and pulling you into a messy kiss.

You clench around him, body shaking with the force of your climax as you seek Hyunjin’s arm wrapped around your body for purchase. He continues pounding into you, and you feel yourself squirm, your vision going blurry from the stimulation.

“Gonna come,” he hisses against your lips, “Where do you want it?”

And you’re too far gone at this point, whimpering, “Anywhere you want.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath, pulling out while his hand finds your lower back once more, pushing you onto the couch before flipping your pliant body over so you’re facing him. You watch with hazy eyes as he strokes himself feverishly over your body, his cum soon shooting onto your breasts.

His unreadable gaze lingers on you for a beat and a half before he nonchalantly tucks himself back into his sweatpants and heads toward the hallway. You sit up on the couch, limbs aching, and chuckle to yourself. This was not your proudest moment, but you surely didn’t regret it.

You don’t expect aftercare from someone like him, so you resign yourself to searching for your discarded shirt. But Hyunjin’s tall frame appears before you, towel in hand before you can even stand up. His touch is gentle as he cleans your chest, and although the gesture is somewhat sweet, it feels extremely awkward.

“Really liked fucking you,” he tells you with a grin, “But you gotta leave now. I’m going live later, and I also gotta go to the club tonight, so I have to rest. But it was fun.”

And you simply scoff at his words, rising to your feet to dress yourself as quickly as possible. It was a bit baffling how he could fuck you the way he did, then tell you he’s off to pick up more girls at a club immediately after. But what did you expect? Hyunjin’s ego and arrogance were clear to you from day one.

“Why the fuck do you go clubbing so much, anyway?” You question as you head toward the front door, and Hyunjin chuckles behind you. “Is that your hunting ground or something?”

“You could say that,” he simply says.

As you unlock his door and step out into the hallway, Hyunjin’s voice calls out to you. Turning to look at him, you’re met with that familiar smirk adorning his lips.

“We can do this again anytime you want,” he assures, and the mere thought of letting him touch you again makes you roll your eyes in disdain.

“Yeah right.”

If only you knew then just how awfully torturous it would be to listen to him, knowing what he was doing — most importantly, knowing what it felt like to have him.

Lust completely clouds your judgment when it comes to Hyunjin, and you soon find yourself coming back to his apartment until it becomes an annoyingly pleasurable habit.

Every day, when he hears you get home from work, your phone buzzes with a text asking that you come over and help him ‘warm up for his job.’ The nights of suffering in your bedroom have transformed into watching him from the corner of his room, enthralled with the way he can make himself come on camera so eagerly and later fuck you with just as much vigor.

It’s a nice arrangement, but definitely not one you see yourself in for the long run. Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but you’re not foolish enough to anchor your feelings to someone like him. It’s not his job that’s the problem, but mostly his attitude toward life. He belongs to nobody, while you yearn to belong to someone. Routine is the last thing on his mind, while you revel in its comfort. You could never be with someone like him.

But it is a nice arrangement.

So you find yourself back in his bed again today, his heavy cock in your mouth as he tugs harshly on your hair, painting the back of your throat with his cum. Except this time, he doesn’t immediately ask you to leave.

“What?” You ask, “Don’t you have to go clubbing or something?”

“It’s my day off,” he shrugs, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close and falls back into bed. You furrow your brows, detangling yourself from him.

“Day off? From what, picking up girls?”

Hyunjin chuckles, eyes sleepy. “I work at the club,” he simply says. “I’m a host, I just act like I go clubbing when I talk about it during my lives ‘cause my viewers can be a bit stalkery.”

“What?”

“Have you heard of The Siren?” He asks, and you hum, recalling a faint memory of some of your co-workers mentioning the club in passing. “That’s where I work.”

You nod slowly, still confused. “What exactly does a host do?”

“Well, basically, I get to make money just by making lonely women feel wanted.”

You can’t help but scoff at his crude description. “And do you fuck them?”

“Well, yeah,” he answers like it’s obvious. “It’s part of the job.��

“Fucking hell,” You let out a hearty laugh, to which Hyunjin shoots you a questioning look. “Your sex drive really should be studied.”

His lips upturn into a smirk, and his arms reach for you again, beckoning you back into his embrace. “No need to be jealous, baby. I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you into his chest. He threads his fingers through your hair, and you can’t help but feel… awkward.

“You’re kind of an asshole, Hyunjin.”

He hums. “Sure, but you still let me fuck you.”

You two stay that way for a while, his fingers massaging your scalp as he presses a kiss to your head now and then. It feels disorienting, like a sudden shift from everything Hyunjin had been until now. He was never caring or sweet, he never kissed you if you weren’t fucking, and he surely never cuddled you. Your face involuntarily contorts into a grimace.

You detach yourself from him, getting up from the bed and telling him you’ll see him later. But Hyunjin is grabbing at your arm with a smile.

“Come on, don’t be sad,” he giggles as you try to free yourself from his grip. “I’m really not the type of guy you should have fallen for, anyway.”

You still at his words, face contorting into pure befuddlement. “Fallen for? Who the fuck says I’ve fallen for you?”

And Hyunjin simply scoffs, letting go of your arm as his smile shifts into his characteristic grin. “Well, there’s a reason I’m number one among the hosts at The Siren.”

“Hyunjin, those girls aren’t exactly after you for your personality,” you deadpan. “You’re really nothing worth falling for.”

His grin slowly fades, and it’s his turn to have confusion take hold in his eyes. “What?”

You can tell he wasn’t expecting this. Almost as if he was expecting you to have truly fallen for him simply because he… is him. And you can’t help but chuckle at the situation.

“Hyunjin,” you call out to him sweetly, and his gaze is back on you immediately. “You’re a nice fuck, but that’s really it. Don’t worry about me falling for you.”

You can swear you see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, but it’s likely only your imagination. He opens his lips to speak but promptly closes them again. He simply stares up at you from where he’s sat on the bed and almost looks sweet. If you didn’t know him, you would undoubtedly be charmed by this convincing facade. You have to give it to him; you do understand why he’s number one at his job.

“But…” He trails off, shaking his head. “But I’ll see you again tomorrow, right?”

“Sure,” you shrug. “We can keep fucking until I find something better.”

You run your fingers through his long hair and make your way to the door, leaving him with an expression frozen in bewilderment.

Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but he’ll never be yours.

But that’s not a problem, as you surely will never be his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings

#stray kids #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #skz

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soaps-mohawk · 2 months ago

Text

Good Friends Share Their Toys

Kyletober Day 10: Bukakke

Summary: It’s routine now. Your owners’ friends come over for dinner and then fuck you stupid.

Pairing: Poly 141 x Samoyed hybrid!reader

Word Count: 2,273 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, hybrids, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v sex, heat cycles, hints of breeding kinks, rough sex, bukakke, lots of cum, spanking (it's like twice), Johnny and his love of tits, reader has some features described since she's a hybrid, language

A/N: You're getting a special poly treat this time. Gotta show all the boys some love at least once this month (mostly just because I had this one written up before I decided on Kyletober and it's just too good not to share)

MASTERLIST

A gentle hand rubs your ear, a low groan rumbling in your chest from the pleasure as fingers press into the base where it connects to your head. It feels good, your mind beginning to float away thanks to the pleasant sensation. You don’t want it to stop, your head continuing to lean into the hand as it starts to pull away.

A sharp tug on your tail brings you back.

You yelp, your hips bucking forward to try and escape while it tucks between your legs. Chuckles erupt around you, warm hands spreading your ass cheeks.

“C’mon sweetheart, lift that tail back up. Let them see your pretty cunt.”

You do as your owner says, lifting your tail until it’s curled up, the fluffy tip brushing against your lower back. It’s his hand that’s in your hair, rubbing at your ears. You’re bent over the kitchen table, ass on display for his two friends. It’s a routine now. Every weekend they come over and have dinner, drink a few beers, then fuck you stupid.

Your owner just wants to share his cute little hybrid with them.

You can hardly complain.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Simon breathes as Kyle, your owner’s boyfriend, spreads your cheeks, putting your drooling pussy on display. “Needy little thing.”

“She’s always wet this time of year.” Kyle says. “Humping our legs like the needy pup she is.”

“Screamin’ Jesus.” Johnny breathes, dragging his fingers through your slick folds. You know it’s him based on his touch. You know them all by touch and scent.

A needy whine pushes past your lips as his fingers press against your clit, your hips pushing back against his hand. You’re desperate for some kind of relief after the hour you’ve sat waiting in anticipation for this moment leaking all over your thighs and the cute little skirt your owner dressed you in.

That skirt is now on the floor, along with your shirt. You rarely bother with constricting undergarments, usually only when you leave the house with your owners. They hardly complain, especially when your skirt lifts up when you stretch.

“Let me see her tits.” Johnny says, pulling his hand away from your throbbing core.

You let out a whine of indignation until a gentle tug on your collar redirects your focus. You push yourself up, following the guiding hands until you’re perched on the edge of the table, naked before them except for your collar. It’s pink, like most of your belongings. It’s the perfect color for you, your owner had said. Matches your fluffy white hair.

Johnny groans as you sit on display for him, his hands immediately going for your breasts. Johnny loves your breasts. Says so every time he sees them.

“Fuckin’ love yer tits, pup.” He says, his hands cupping them.

You let out a gasp as his thumbs flick over your sensitive nipples, more slick seeping out of you to coat your thighs. You gasp again as fingers tug at your collar, your owner entering your peripheral.

“Be polite and say thank you.” He says.

“Thank you, Johnny.” You whine as his mouth closes around one of your nipples, suckling it with his lips.

Johnny groans around your nipple, switching between circling the sensitive bud with his tongue and suckling on it. You can smell the arousal in the air, thick and musky from the four men. Johnny’s erection brushes your thigh as he switches breasts, giving the other the same treatment.

“Ye ever considered breeding her.” He asks, his fingers dipping between your legs again. They drag through the soft curls before they reach your slit, pushing up against your clit.

“Why, you wanna be greedy and drink her milk?” Simon asks.

Johnny groans around your nipple, two of his fingers pressing against your hole. You’re more than ready for him, your body opening up to the two thick digits as they press inside of you.

“You sure you’re not a hybrid?” Kyle asks, his fingers trailing your spine as you arch your back, pressing your hips against Johnny’s hand.

“His mum always jokes there was a hybrid somewhere in their family line.” Simon says. “Needy little mutt.”

Your hips jerk and you let out a high pitched moan as Johnny’s fingers push against that spot inside of you. Johnny curses against your breast, suckling on your nipple as he moves his fingers slowly in and out of you. You’re soaking his hand, slick dribbling out of you and coating his skin from the torturously slow pace. He’s always softer, more careful than Simon.

“Fucking sweet cunt.” Johnny groans as he pulls his fingers from inside you, bringing them to his mouth to lick your juices off. You let out a whine as you watch his tongue wrap around his fingers. You want that tongue inside of you, but you know that’s for Kyle later after Johnny and Simon have left.

“Cannae fuckin’ stand it anymore.” Johnny says, hastily undoing his belt and dropping his pants. His cock is hard and standing at attention, making your pussy flutter in anticipation.

Your tail is wagging as he steps up to you, a smile tugging at your lips from excitement. He lets out another curse as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips. His head pushes against your hole, your hips pushing down to try and slip him inside of you. The neediness is almost too much to bear as your pussy clenches in anticipation.

He takes his time, pushing his cock into you, rocking his hips slowly, inch by inch. His hands hold your hips steady as you try to push down on him, trying to take him all in one go. You can, you’ve done it before. Your body is begging to be bred, and it’s ready and waiting. They can’t breed you though. Your owner won’t let them. You’re his sweet, precious puppy. He’s far too possessive to allow just anyone to pump you full of pups.

Johnny’s hips jerk as you squeeze around him, pushing his cock fully inside of you. Your head falls back with a moan at the stretch, the ache beneath your skin finally being relieved from the way Johnny’s cock fills you up.

“Bloody hell.” Simon groans, shifting to watch Johnny’s hips push up against yours.

Johnny’s arms hold you up as he begins thrusting into you, pushing your breasts up against his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he braces a hand behind you on the table. His thrusts are slow but deep, hips dragging against your clit. You let out little whines and moans, pressing the side of your head against his.

“Fucking Christ.” He breathes, his fingers dig into your side, his hips grinding against you.

You wrap your legs around him as he pulls you closer to the edge of the table, bracing yourself as his hands drop to your ass, using your body as leverage as he thrusts desperately into you. His musky scent fills your nose, making your pussy clench needily. Your body is begging to be bred, begging to be fucked, begging for any relief from the torturous heat pulsing between your thighs.

You tighten your legs around him, pushing him closer to your body. It’s not enough, it’s never enough this time of year.

He lets out a string of curses as he forces himself away, untangling your body from around him. He wraps a hand around the base of his cock, trying to stop himself from cumming too soon.

You let out a pathetic sounding whimper, a glob of slick dripping out of you and sliding down your ass onto the table. Johnny watches it go, letting out a whimper himself as he desperately tries to keep himself from cumming.

“Don’t want to waste that just yet.” Simon says, stepping past him and up to you. “Over.” He says, smacking your thigh.

You yelp scrambling to turn back over and bend over the table. Your tail starts wagging again in excitement as Simon pulls your cheeks apart, staring down at your clenching pussy. His hand smacks against the sensitive skin, a near yowl leaving your lips as your hips buck against the table. More slick dribbles out, coating his hand as he pushes his fingers into you.

“Fucking needy little bitch.” He says, his belt clinking as he undoes his pants.

He presses his fingers as deep as they’ll go, his palm pushing against your ass. You moan, pushing back against his fingers in anticipation. You like how rough he is with you, such a contrast to how the other three treat you. You’re their little princess, but sometimes you want them to be rough with you.

That’s why you like Simon so much.

“Come on.” He says, tugging on your tail lightly until you push up onto your toes, pressing yourself further against the table. “Good girl.”

You beam at the praise, tail brushing your lower back as it wags back and forth. Simon chuckles, dragging his hands up your arched back as the head of his cock pushes against your hole. You press back as he presses in, sliding into you easily thanks to Johnny stretching you out and your copious slick.

Your clit is pushed up right against the edge of the table as he begins thrusting into you. His hips snap against your ass, driving you into the side of the table with every thrust. Your legs are already shaking from the pressure against your clit, the table creaking as he drives his body against yours. You're glad your owner reinforced it months ago during one of his handyman kicks.

Simon’s hands press against your back, forcing you flat on the table. You turn your head, staring at your owner as he stands there watching. His pants are down around his knees, his cock in hand as he jerks it slowly, his eyes glued to where Simon’s hips push up against your ass. You can hear the wet sound of the other two jerking off as well, Johnny groaning quietly somewhere behind you.

The wet squelch of your pussy nearly drowns them out, slick dribbling down your thighs as Simon pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

You let out a whine as Simon pulls out of you, his hands gripping your hips to flip you around so you’re seated on the edge of the table again. He thrusts back into you, keeping the same rough pace as before. His fingers hook under the front of your collar, holding your head straight so you’re looking up into his eyes. Those chocolate eyes stare down into your own dark ones, an almost possessive look in them.

Your ears are plastered flat against your head as he continues to pound into you, dragging you closer and closer to the edge. Your hands grip Simon’s forearms as he thrusts wildly into you, his tip pushing up against that spot inside of you with every thrust in.

“Please, please please!” You squeal, legs shaking uncontrollably as you get closer and closer to the edge.

He doesn’t let up, he doesn’t slow down as he continues to hit that spot inside of you over and over, his eyes still locked with yours.

Your body spasms as you cum, gushing around his cock. Your ears ring with the force of your orgasm, your eyes rolling back as you nearly fall back against the table. Simon’s arms hold you up, his cock still thrusting into you, dragging out your orgasm as much as he can.

He finally pulls himself free of you, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. The hand gripping your collar guides you onto the floor. Your legs are still shaking from your orgasm as you drop to your knees, sitting back on your heels.

You be a good girl and open your mouth for them, Simon and Johnny stepping up first. Simon’s tip presses right against your tongue and you can taste yourself right on his cock. He jerks his cock a couple of times before he cums, spilling into your mouth. He’s salty and musky on your tongue, rich just like his scent. Johnny is right next to him, his cock pushing against the side of your mouth as he eagerly spurts across your lips and into your mouth, finally getting his release. He’s salty and almost bitter, from all the fast food Simon says he eats.

They take a few steps back, still pumping their cocks as your owner and his boyfriend take their places. Kyle gets to go first, pushing his cock against your tongue as he adds to the mixture already sitting on your tongue. He has a slightly sweet tang to him, the taste almost addicting. He’s had to pull you off his cock a few times from overstimulation because you tried sucking the soul out of him. Or at least that’s what he always says.

Your owner is last, pushing his cock into your mouth as he cums, the musky and rich taste of him blending into the others. His taste isn’t all that different from Simon’s, more musky than rich.

You sit there for a moment, holding their cum in your mouth before you close your lips, swallowing it down. The viscous cocktail slides down your throat, coating your taste buds with the blend of their scents and flavors.

“Good girl.” Your owner praises you, petting your sweaty hair. “Such a good girl.”

Your tail wags as you sit there, beaming from his praise. You are a good girl. Always their good girl.

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#kyletober #Kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #Kyle Garrick x reader #poly 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #kinktober 2024 #call of duty #call of duty fic

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multifariousqueer · 11 months ago

Note

Ooo for a Nate request could you do something like Nate x shy virgin reader or something like that ?🤭

Ofc darling!!🩷

Warnings: smut, mentions of bruising and abuse, deflowering, sub! Reader, strong language, nate being rough, idk I think that’s it

The warm autumn air brushed your skin as Nate’s hand snaked its way around your waist. He had began walking you to school during the summer so that you didn’t get kidnapped. That was one of his biggest fears, you getting kidnapped and assaulted. He would offer to drive you but you liked to walk when the weather was nice:

“So I’ll pick you up at 3, okay?” He spoke. It wasn’t a question so much as it was a statement.

You knew not to test Nate after seeing what he did to Maddy and Cassie. Nate would never intentionally hurt you physically, but hey, accidents happen right?

“Okay” you said softly. Nate loved when you would speak softly and do whatever he wanted.

He smiled and led you into the building, where he saw Maddy who gave you both a death glare:

*Flashback*

“You know he’s toxic, right? He held a gun to my head, are you fucking stupid? Why would you date him?” Maddy said to you once she found out about your relationship

“I’m sorry” you said in tears. You had always looked up to Maddy and seeing her mad at you made you want to die.

“You will be” she said before leaving. That was the last time you guys spoke three months ago.

Since that day, Nate became more and more protective over you. He was always the jealous and possessive type but this pushed it over the edge. Nate loved Maddy but he loved you more, and if anything happened to you, he would kill whoever hurt you with a baseball bat.

Nate always had his hand around your waist or holding your other hand as he carried your books in his abnormally large hand. If anyone looked at you funny, he would shoot them a death glare and grip you tighter, sometimes even leaving bruises. Nate liked leaving bruises because it proved that you belonged to him.

He watched as you migrated over to your friends and watched in awe at how pretty you looked. Your hair was in a ponytail and your clothes were tailored to your body perfectly, your smile lit up the room as you giggled at one of your girl friends jokes.

Nate barred you from having guy friends that weren’t his because he didn’t like the idea of someone hitting on you, Nate took offense whenever someone tried to take what was his. To him, you were his toy, his object of affection that only belonged to him and no one else. He admired how clean and untouched you were, never having a serious relationship before him and never even having sex at all. Thoughts of you in compromising positions and in outfits that only he could see littered his mind throughout the day and made his pants tighten. He couldn’t wait for what he had planned after school.

*Flashback*

Nate and you had gone to the mall one day after school. You browsed for a new pair of shoes but Nate had gone for other, more promiscuous reasons. He took you into Victoria Secret and bought you a bunch of lingerie in pink:

“Here. Try this” he said, holding up a stringy pair of underwear with a bra that had a bow on the breast.

You eyed it nervously before hesitantly agreeing to try it on.

You tried it on and Nate’s breath hitched. He pulled you in between his legs and grabbed the bow on the bra and pulled it, leaving your breasts exposed.

Nate pulled your sensitive buds in his mouth while you let out a small moan:

“Please not here” you breathed

Nate bit down on your nipple and gave you a look that told you to just go along with it. He rolled your nipple in between his teeth as you let out small moans and breaths, the fitting room getting a bit hot as his mouth moved from your nipples to your mouth:

“I don’t wanna take your virginity here, babe” he breathed

“Than where?” you asked

Nate whisked you up over his shoulder as he took off the lingerie and replaced it with your normal clothes. He walked up to the register, still holding you and said:

“These please”

You walked out of the mall and he ushered you into his truck, your outfit riding up a bit as you slid into the seat.

It seemed like you would never use that set but the day finally came. He took you to his house where he had a picnic in the backyard:

“Hi, y/n!” Nate’s mother said

“Hi, Mrs. Jacob’s” you answered with a smile

Nate’s family loved you because you made Nate seriously happy and you were respectful, unlike Maddy who disrespected them all the time.

Nate ushered you into the back and sat you down gracefully.

“Aww Nate, thank you so much” you cooed

“Mhmmm anything for you, babe” he spoke

You two chatted about any and everything, mostly about football and how he had found his fathers tapes:

“That’s horrible. What can I do to help?” You asked

“Well, now that you mention it-“ Nate started before lifting you up bridal style and carrying you to the bedroom.

You were innocent and Nate knew that. You had never done anything sexual with anyone in your life:

“Have you ever done this before?” Nate asked

“no” you said, feeling 1 inch tall

“Have you ever touched yourself?” He asked, looking down at you as he placed you on the bed.

“Ummm… yes” you said, hesitating to answer honestly because you were afraid that he wouldn’t be happy

“Hm. Okay” he said before laying you down on your back and spreading your legs

Nate pulled your panties off and spit on your core, sending low whimpers from your mouth into the space. He grabbed your neck and whispered in your ear:

“Can I fuck you?”

“yeah. just be gentle” you begged

Nate scoffed and said:

“always”

He rubbed circles along your clit as moans escaped your lips, sliding two fingers in and pumping them gently:

“Fuck you’re so tight for me” he breathed

Your mind was preoccupied on how full you felt. If his fingers were this big, you couldn’t imagine how big his cock was. Luckily, you didn’t have to imagine long because as your orgasm was approaching, Nate stopped, leaving you empty and frustrated.

“Not yet, cutie” he smiled.

Nate pulled out his hard cock as you watched in awe at the sheer size of it. He saw the look in your eyes and said:

“You’ll get used to it”

He pushed himself inside of you as you let out a moan of pain. You gripped onto his bicep as you felt like you were being split open by him. He let out a loud groan as he felt your warm walls grip onto him. His eyes found yours as tears filled your eyes and he grabbed your hand:

“Do you wanna stop?”

“I- ughh- no” you said through tears

Nate paused for a moment to give you time to adjust to him. You tapped him to let him know that he could keep going and he did. His hips moved at a slow pace as your face went from an expression of pain to pleasure. His pace picked up as moans escaped your lips and his mouth found your neck and chest, leaving large bruises on both. He wanted the world to know that he had you the night before, in such a vulnerable position underneath him.

His pace went from fast, to very fast as the vulgar sound of skin slapping and your tight cunt drove him to the edge. His eyebrows furrowing as his orgasm approached in a wave. He looked down at you and placed his hand on your neck as he angled his cock up so that it was touching your g spot. He thrusted upwards in a way that made your walls twitch and grip onto him. Your back arched and your mouth parted as your orgasm approached fast:

“I think I’m gonna cum” you moaned

“Not yet.” He said

“Please?” you pleaded

Nate pulled out his cock and you whimpered.

“Since you wanna act like a slut and not listen to me, I’ll treat you like the slut you are” he breathed before flipping you onto your stomach and holding onto your neck.

His thrusts were rough and merciless as you whined into the pillow, his grip tightening on your neck as his thrusts became sloppier and your orgasm became closer and closer.

“Cum. Now.” He barked

You did exactly that as a wave of pleasure washed over you and made you unable to move. You lay there, a moaning mess as your boyfriend released ropes of his cum into you, marking you as his.

“I’m sorry for being so rough” Nate said breathily

“Mmmmm it’s okay” you moaned

He picked you up and laid you on the mattress properly as he left to grab a cool towel and your favorite big shirt of his. You laid there reminiscing on how amazing your first time was.

Nate cleaned you up and joined you on the mattress, pulling you into his embrace.

“Nate?” You asked

“Yeah?” He said

“Can we do that again?” You asked innocently

He chuckled and said:

“Maybe tomorrow, Princess”

#nate jacob’s #nate jacobs #Nate Jacob’s x reader #nate jacobs smut #euphoria #euphoria smut #nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs blurb #nate jacobs imagine #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi smut #jacob elordi imagine #for you #foryou

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forgeofthenine · 1 year ago

Note

Omg in the last few posts you were talking about heat as in temperature but my brain registered it as something COMPLETELY different and it got me thinking…

What if tieflings had some kind of a heat cycle and they get extra sensitive and desperate because of it?? I can imagine Zevlor and Rolan being super embarrassed or nervous to bring it up, maybe Dammon’s more chill about it but still extra needy

So, this has absolutely been a passing thought in my mind and as soon as this request came in I knew I just had to push it to the front of my request queue, purely for my own mental health lol

Gotta admit, I'm a fan of omegaverse dynamics and I actually looked a little into irl animal biology and mating behaviour to get a better feel for what I think tieflings would be the most like. So this has both general headcanons and some NSFW headcanons for the individual bachelors

You probably didn't expect quite this much (over a thousand words of tief content) when requesting but this had me in a chokehold, I hope everyone enjoys <3

TW: NSFW under the cut, very heavy breeding kink, overstimulation, alpha/omega adjacent dynamics

Tiefling NSFW heat and rut headcanons

General

So, I feel like once all tiefs reach sexual maturity they'll start to either have heats or ruts, depending on their biology

Anyone with female biology will have a heat, and I feel like they'd have heats similar to cats but with a slightly longer time between heats

So generally they'd have a heat every two to three months or so unless they're pregnant or have other health issues

For the ones with male biology they'd definitely have a rut

They'd follow similar patterns to the women, but it's not unusual for some tieflings to have longer stretches between their ruts if they don't have a partner

A single tiefling that isn't particularly sexually active might only go into rut once or twice a year

I do think a male tiefling could prematurely go into rut if exposed to a females heat, and couples that have been together for a while will sync up

They have pretty typical heat and rut behaviours with nesting, possessiveness, and a pretty undeniable breeding kink

Nesting, possessiveness, and general mood shifts tend to start setting in during pre-heats and pre-ruts

Pre-heats and pre-ruts can last two to five days, and a full heat and rut can last anywhere from two days to a full week depending on the individual

In saying that, having a partner can definitely shorten both heats and ruts, so single tieflings working through things by themselves will have longer heats or ruts

Heats and ruts can also become more painful the longer they go on without the relief of a sexual partner

Tieflings can tell when others are in heat and rut mostly through pheromones, but a female tieflings tail will also involuntarily lift when she's in pre-heat/heat and around a male

I wonder if I should go so far as to headcanon that they have knots, I did already give them all ridged dicks

Dammon

If you and Dammon aren't dating then he'll be much more shy about his ruts

He basically disappears from his forge and the public for a few days and then comes back as if nothing happened

Once you start dating him is when you find out why he pulls the disappearing act

Dammon is actually very open about it now you're both together and have already been intimate

Blushes slightly while trying to explain some of the more physical, primal aspects

Would flush even more if you tell him you find the whole thing incredibly attractive

The next time he has his rut, you're the only person allowed to see him, and he really is a sight

Naked and tangled in his sheets, all flushed and tense, undeniably hard as he palms himself while looking over at you

Even the way he strips you of your clothing is different, he just about rips it off you as he kisses and nips down your neck and chest

While Dammon is usually one to take his time with making you feel good when he's in rut the only thing on his mind is getting to cum

Though even in his hazy mind frame he still makes sure you're comfortable the whole time

Even a near sex crazed and highly hormonal Dammon is still a very caring partner

You know he's going to bend you in half as he fucks you, he just loves how good you look underneath him like that

Breeding kink go brrrr

This man always fucks like he's trying to breed you but it's off the charts when he's in rut

I hope you're ready to be fucked within an inch of your life because his refractory period ceases to exist

Absolutely watches as he pulls out of you and some of him cum leaks out because he's stuffed you so full

Dammon praises you so well too, you can not shut up this man and his dirty talk

"That's it gorgeous, you take my cock so well."

"You gonna make me a daddy, darling? 'm gonna knock you up, full you up with my cum."

Once his rut dies down enough, he'll scoop you up for a bath

There is no way you could stand after the way this man just wrecked you-

Dammon takes very good care of you, and then you do it all again the next day

Zevlor

Whether you're dating Zevlor or not, he's your personal wealth of knowledge on everything tiefling

So what do you do when a book you read mentions 'the times of year and conditions unique to tieflings' and doesn't explain it?

You go and find your favourite paladin

Zevlor is so embarrassed, dating or not, explaining to you how tiefling heats and ruts work

Can't even keep his eyes on you

When you two are dating and you realise you didn't see him at all yesterday, it's time to go hunting for the man

You have an idea of what might be going on but nothing prepares you for what you find

Much like Dammon, you find him tangled in his bed sheets desperately trying to get himself off

He lets out the sexiest groan when he sees you standing there

He's the gentlest of the three while working through his rut

Even then, Zevlor is noticeably rougher with you than usual

Has you in a missionary position, his whole body pressed to yours as he pants in your ear and thrusts into you

Zevlor can't keep his hands off you when he's in rut, they're all over your hips and chest and giving light tugs to your hair

He gives into the primal need to mark you too, it's the only time he'll give you hickeys

Breeding kink: the sequel

Absolutely tells you he's going to breed you, and fucks you like he means it

Doesn't even think as he uses his hands and tail to spread your legs so he can fuck you deeper

Zevlor loves to look at the way you tremble every time he fills you with cum, using his fingers to help you get off at the same time

Even while he's trying to find his own relief, he makes sure to make you cum so many times you end up overstimulated and about to cry from the pleasure

Definitely has you cockwarm him as the two of rest, the thought of you keeping his seed so deep in you until it takes just gets him going again

You'll know he's ready for another round when Zevlor starts grinding himself into you again

When the worst of his rut is over he gives you the best massages

Apologises so profusely too the first few times you help him through his rut, even if you tell him how much you like it

Rolan

There is no way Rolan is ever telling you anything about heats and ruts

Absolutely forbidd his siblings from mentioning it too, he's just way too embarrassed for you to know

Even when you guys are dating he just locks himself away in his tower for a week while he works through it and recovers

This man will not tell you anything

And then he forgets to lock the door

As soon as you open it you're met with the sight of a whiney, teary eyed Rolan trying to get off by grinding against a pillow in desperation

Unlike with the other two, there's no clear 'top' when you're with Rolan during his rut

He loves having you ride him until he sees stars just as much as he wants to bend you over his desk until everyone else in Ramaziths tower can hear you scream

Rolan loves hearing you when he's in rut

Yell his name, tell him that you belong to him, tell him how good he fucks you, say he looks so pretty when you ride him-

He loves all of it so much

He's also the one that bites you the hardest, expect him to draw at least a little bit of blood by accident

Breeding kink: the trilogy

Rolan isn't letting you leave the room unless he's knocked you up

Absolutely puts a fertility spell on you by brushing his hand over your lower belly and murmuring the words

He also refuses to pull out unless it's to change positions, and if any cum leaks out of you he'll push it back in with his fingers

Overstimulation is the name of the game with Rolan, he wants you both overstimulated and crying and completely fucked out

This man believes in equality and we love him for it

The youngest of the tiefling bachelors and definitely the most pent up, it'll take all day before he calms down enough for the two of you to rest

When things do calm down, after he makes sure you're both clean and fed, Rolan wraps you up with him in his bed and will read to you

It's his own personal flavour of aftercare, cuddling and reading your favourite book as he makes sure you're comfortable and happy

And it all starts over when you wake up the next morning with him hard as a rock against your ass

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jessjad · 7 months ago

Text

More than this

Summary: Y/N and Dean have been together for a while now, but she's not sure if this is going any further. More and more it feels like he only wants one thing from her and Y/N isn't sure if she can continue to give it to him.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 4417

Warnings: 18+ only!!! some smutty smutness (a little rougher in the beginning), a little heartbreak, some angst, fluff and some realizations

A/N: Hello! 😊 So, I had this idea in my head and I really wanted to write it out, but I had to redo it a couple of times until I got it right. Get ready for some feelings. All mistakes are mine!

My Masterlist

"You like this, right?"

Dean murmured roughly into Y/N's ear while he kept pounding her hard into the matress. She was laying underneath him, legs around his hips and taking his rough thrusts with accompanying moans. Yeah, she liked it. Dean knew just how to make her come, how to manhandle her, but she could not answer him. In a way she just wanted it to be over. He kept talking dirty to her and started to grib her throat lightly. With his other hand he took one of her calves and brought her leg up on his shoulder to change the angle, to get even deepr into her heat.

"Oh, I know you like this, sweetheart. Hitting every sensitive spot insight you while I fuck you really hard. Just to keep you on edge." he increased the pressure on her throat a little and started to circle her clit with his thump.

Y/N began to feel a little anxious about the hand on her throat and gripped his wrist with some fear, but that was something that Dean didn't notice while he was chasing his own release. Y/N was sure that he would never hurt her, but that was something knew. Something she actually did not like.

She felt the pressure build in her core and the heat that started to rise up in her body took her mind of the current situation that bothered her. Dean lavished on her nipples with his tounge, intensifying the pressure and in the moment when he let go of her throat, the coil snapped and she came hard on his cock. Screaming his name, Dean's movements began to falter and he too came undone, releasing his sticky seed and filling her to the brim.

The Winchester rolled down of her and layed himself right next to her. Relishing in the feeling of the post sexual bliss, both their breahts came hard while their racing hearts were trying to calm themselfs down again. He closed his eyes and smiled before he turned to the woman next to him, to see how she felt. With one arm drapped over her stomache he gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek, but Y/N didn' react in any way.

"You okay there, sweetheart?" he asked and looked closely at her.

Upon hearing his voice, a smile appeared on her lips and she turned her head to Dean. "Yeah, all good."

To not have to look him into the face much longer she scooded over to him and buried her face in the crook of his neck. Now, laying in his warm embrace and hearing his heartbeat, she felt safe, good. Once this rough side of Dean was gone, she wanted to be as close to him as she could. This is what she wanted to experience more with him and she probably should just talk to him. But she didn't know how. And if she was honest, this was somehow all her fault.

When she met Dean for the first time, she was hooked right away. He had put on a charming smile that reached his beautiful green eyes and right away she felt like a fly who was drawn to the light. Although she couldn't really believe that he was actually attracted to her. She was no model and definitly not perfect, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. And so she had no problem to share her bed with him the first night and it was really beautiful.

A string of dates followed in which they got to know each other better and better and they also kept up their nightly activities underneath the sheets. After a month it felt right and Y/N started to fall for the tall man. Her heart began to yearn for him and she could only hope that he was starting to feel the same way. She felt so comfortable with him, because he seemed to genuinely like her just the way she was. And that led to the situation they now found themselves in.

One night, while they were about to make the bed shake again, she had brought it up that she likes it a little harder sometimes. And Dean, the gentleman that he was, tried to do justice to her wishes. In the beginning they tested it out and at some point they found a grove with eachother. It was fun.

But now, over six months later, this was all there was left. Hard, rough sex. No sweet feelings or romance. And also no emotional intimacy. Even the dates had stopped. They only met at her place or, like right now, here in the bunker at Dean's place.

Y/N knew about his actual job and eventhough she didn't want to get involved with it, it didn't bother her. Dean was saving lives, he was a warior. A frecking hero! And that just made her fall for him even harder. But after all this time, she still didn't know if he was falling in love with her too.

Long after Dean felt asleep, Y/N was still lying awake in bed. There was to much going on in her head. She looked over to Dean and tears began to burn in her eyes. As much as she liked the man next to her, this was not what she wanted. Sometimes he was so secretive and she felt like she didn't even know him. It was as if he didn't want to let her into his heart. As if he didn't want to let her share his feelings.

And so, Y/N knew what she needed to do. She needed to get out of here for a while. Needed to get away from Dean and this entrenched situation. A little distance would probably be the best for now. And with this resolution she stood up. Quietly, to not wake up Dean, she put on her clothes and grabbed her stuff. With one last glance back she decided to write him a little note and a minute later she was out of his bedroom.

On her way out of the bunker she passed by the kitchen. The lights were on and when she looked into the room, she saw Sam sitting on the table, his laptop infront of him and a fresh cup of coffee next to it. He looked up after hearing steps, but smiled as soon as he saw it was Y/N.

"Hey! You still awake?" Y/N asked as soon as Sam noticed her.

"Yeah! Yeah, Cas just called. He is on a case in Michigan and needed some help. So, I try to find him some answers."

Y/N only nodded as she took a few steps into the kitchen and smiled. She admired the cohesion the boys shared. They always helped eachother out if needed. Sam on the other hand noticed her backpack that hung from her right sholder and frowned a litte.

"Are you going somewhere? It's still early in the morning?" the younger Winchester asked and directed his attention fully to her.

"Oh, ehm..." Y/N needed to think fast, 'cause she didn't want to lie to Sam. "... I totally forgot that a good friend of mine invited me to her birthday party tomorrow. And since she lives in Jamestown..."

Upon that realization Sam nodded his head. "... it's a long drive to North Dakota."

"Yup." she agreed.

And it was not even a lie. Her friend Lizzy would celebrate her birthday, but just not for four days. Y/N had already texted her friend to let her know, that she would be there a little earlier and when Lizzy would read the message in a few hours she definitly wouldn't mind it. Since they haven't seen eachother in a long time.

"You know, you could've taken a flight down there too." he suggested and stood up from his place.

"Yeah, but I... actually like to drive. You know? Blasting my music, rolled down windows and the wind blows through my hair..."

"Alright, alright." Sam chuckled. "Dean says the same things, so I get it."

Now it was Y/N who laughed a little. But just the thought of the man who owned her heart, stung to some degree. Maybe she should've just talked to him, instead of running away, but she really didn't know how. The one thing she didn't want, was to mess their relationship up. If this even was a relationship.

"Doesn't Dean at least say goodbye to you?" the tall man questioned, while he looked out into the hallway.

"No!" she blurted out way to fast, what gave her an confused look of Sam. "No, but it's okay. We... have been really busy... you know? So... he needs his beauty sleep."

She said and did some randomly gestures with her hands, so that Sam knew right away what she exactly meant. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, getting a little shy.

"Okay, alright. I don't wanna know... that... actually."

They both laughed and inside Y/N were relieved, that he seemed to believe her. Both of them fell silent again and before she could change her mind, Y/N moved forward and hugged Sam goodbye.

"Don't be up to long. Get some sleep, okay?"

Sam hugged her back, the weird feeling in his gut ignoring for now.

"Don't worry, Y/N. I will."

And without looking back again, she made her way down to the garage to get into her car and leave Lebanon behind her.

Dean didn't know what startled him awake, but when he opend his eyes, the sun had just begun to rise over the horizon. He searched his bedside with his hand automatically, but his eyes followed right away. The place where Y/N had slept just some hours ago was already empty. And cold. Only a little note was laying on the pillow, saying that she was gone for a few days. He sat up and noticed right away that her clothes and backpack were gone, too. What was going on?

The older Winchester got out of his bed and went out into the hallway to look for his girlfriend. But he didn't get to far before Sam appeared infront him on his way to his room, yawning his heart out.

"Hey!" he made himself known. "Have you seen Y/N?"

"Oh, hey Dean." answered Sam a little confused and stopped in his tracks when he reached his brother. "She... went out to her friend. Did she... did she not tell you that?"

Dean huffed. "All I got is this little piece of paper." holding the note up to show it to Sam.

"Dean... did something happen between the two of you?"

"What? No!" he blurted out right away, but the look on Sam's face got him a little worried. "Why?"

Sam relaxed his shoulders a little and shook his head in thought. "I don't know... I've met her in the kitchen before she went out and... I had a weird feeling. You know? She... she didn't seem herself... in a way. As if she... was a little on edge?"

"What?" now Dean was confused. "But eveything was fine when we went to sleep."

To that Sam had no idea what else he could say and a weird silence fell between the two men.

"Alright. I'll try calling her. Thanks, Sam."

"Oh, not... not at all."

But Dean didn't hear that anymore. He was already back in his room, grabbing for his phone.

Y/N was finally able to breath. It was a freeing feeling that she had really needed. Lizzy was surprised that she came over so early for her birthday but she didn't complain either. They had know each other for so many years now, that she was happy to get some alone time with her dear friend.

The only times that Y/N felt a little bit guilty was when Dean texted or tried to call her. She was still not ready to take his calls, because she knew that she would give in the second she heared his beautiful voice. She missed him, though. A lot. She missed him so much, that her heart hurt and screamed his name. So that's why she only answerd his messages, eventhough her answers were short and vague. He knew now where exactly she was, but she also asked of him to wait for her to come back. That she just wanted to spent some long needed time with her friends. And he accepted it.

Now, the birthday party was in full swing and banished her bad thoughts. They all laughed, drank a little and just had a really good time. The girls were sitting outside in the backyard of Lizzys house and enjoyed the fairly warm weather. The hours were passing by quickly and for the first time in the last months Y/N felt carefree. But the later the evening got and the more alcohol flowed, the more intimate the conversations became.

Late at night, there were only Lizzy, Y/N and Cathy, another good friend of the girls, left. And Cathy was very expressive, especially about men. She had just told some funny anecdotes about her past relationships and they were all laughing a good amount. But she also talked about her problems with the new man in her life, named Mike. He was older than her and they came from two very different backrounds. But love had still struck them.

"So, it's all good now? With you and Mike?" Lizzy asked.

"Yeah! Yeah, I talked to him. I just had to and he understood it."

Lizzy saw the lightly confused look on Y/N's face and explained. "Cathy had a little problem with their sexlife and she was debating for quite some time if she should say something or not."

'Huh...' Y/N thought. As it seemed she was not the only one who had those problems.

"Our sex was really boring, you know? Like, reeeeaaaally booooring. I mean, I like it slow and intense sometimes, too. It's not a bad thing. But I also really needed the rough sex. You know? When you're just so pent up and you need to release some stress... a good hard pounding can do wonders, right? " Cathy continued speaking and laughed. "And you two know me. I've always been open about what I like and what not. But with Mike... it was difficult, you know?"

"And how did it... go?" Y/N asked.

She didn't know why she asked that, when she didn't even want to talk about it. But maybe this was the right moment. Maybe she should take advantage of this moment and talk to her friends about her problems too.

"Good, actually. Well, I was really nervous in the beginning, 'cause I truly like the guy, you know? But That was also the reason why I wanted to talk to him."

"Yeah..." Y/N agreed, but had to think about her own situation with Dean. Maybe she made this all into a much bigger thing than it acutally was. "...yeah."

But Lizzy noticed the change in her friend right away. She saw the change in her mood and it got her worried a bit. She had asked Y/N about Dean and how their relationship developed, but she didn't fully answer her question.

"Y/N? You okay?"

That question brought back her attention to her friends and she sat herself up a little straighter.

"Yes... I am." she tried to mask it, but Cathy saw right through it.

"Well, THAT sounded convincing..." Cathy turned around and asked silently for an explanation.

"Y/N, girl... you can talk to us." Lizzy tried and then Y/N just felt the urge to talk to her friends what was on her mind.

"Okay, okay, ehm..." now she felt ridicoulous in a way. "Dean and I... it's mostly good, you know? We get along really well and he swepped me of my feet right away..." she smiled, but that faded quickly.

"There is just one thing... and I don't know what to do abut it..." she shook her head and took a sip of her wine, like trying to steal herself. "I get what you're saying, Cathy. About the rough sex and all. I do like that too, but..."

She felt so awkward talking about this, but she also knew that her friends would not judge her or talk her down in any way. And maybe they could give her advice on how to navigate that ship safely into the haven.

"Okay, I'm just gonna say it." with a deep sigh Y/N kept talking. "When I first talked to Dean about the things I like in bed I also told him that I do like it rough sometimes. And with a charming smile he tried to live up to that. We tried different things until we found a grove we both liked, you know?"

Lizzy and Cathy shared a quick look as if they already knew what was coming next over her lips.

"But since then... rough and hard sex is all that's left. It's like... nothing else is existing anymore. We stopped going on dates, we are not talking to eachother anymore like we did in the first few months... all we do when we meet is eat something and then... on into the bedroom."

"Y/N..." Cathy said, but the woman continued talking.

"Don't get me wrong: He is not hurting me or forcing himself on to me or any of that. Not at all. I do like that kind of sex and he knows my body like a violin. But... it feels like it's just sex and nothing more. No romance, no emotional intimacy, no... connection. You know what I mean? And I miss that. I miss the slow, passionate sex. The lingering touches and the soft kisses... we don't have that anymore."

"Do you love him?" Cathy asked after a moment where noone knew what to say and Y/N did not have to think about it.

"Yeah. I do." and that truth hurt.

"Then you should definitly talk to him. Tell him how you feel and that you need more. This is not something you can just... sit out, you know?"

"But... that's the problem. I... I just don't know how. He seems so content and I don't wanna ruin our relationship by causing an maybe unnecessary problem."

"But it's never unnecessary to talk about the way you feel and try to improve your relationship with him. And when Dean loves you too, then he should have no problems with that, right?" Lizzy asked.

Y/N wanted to agree. It made so much sense hearing this from her friends and now she was wondering why she did not just try it. She was even questioning her behavier right know in leaving Dean and not telling him why. Her mind was racing and she felt tears starting to burn her eyes.

"Dean does love you... right?" Lizzy wondered.

But Y/N could not reply right away to her friend. She wiped the tears from her cheek that were now rolling down her face.

"Honestly, I... I don't know..."

After that relevation the other two girls came over and embraced Y/N into a big hug. But none of the three ladies saw the green eyed man that stood in the shadows, looking into the backyard and balling his fists, while he eavesdropped the whole conversation and tried to hold back his own tears.

"You need to talk to him, Y/N."

"I know, Lizzy. I will."

"And if he doesn't understand it, then he is not the right guy for you."

The little goodbye scene kept playing over and over in Y/N's head. She had really awesome friends who tried to help and protect her and in the end, this little hide out was what she had needed. Because one thing became really clear to her and that was that she loved Dean. Her heart was his and she wanted at least fight for it.

But now, sitting in her car in the bunker's garage, nine hours later her nerves were starting to get to her. Maybe Dean was angry with her for leaving him so suddenly. Maybe he didn't wanted to talk to her anymore. Maybe, maybe, maybe...

She took a deep breath and stealed herself before she finally got out. With her bag over her right shoulder Y/N stepped into the war room, but the bunker layed erriely dark and quiet. Putting her bag down she went to look for Dean or Sam, but could not find any of the men right away. Which was weird, because she had told Dean that she would be back this evening. When she went down the hallway to the bedrooms she saw a light after turnig the corner to where the Dean Cave was.

Her heart started to race a little, but when she reached the door and opened it, she didn't know what to say or think. The room was enlightened by a lot of candles. The two armchairs were standing on a wall and a big pull out couch had took in their place. On a sidetable were some brugers, fries, drinks and an apple pie, ready to be eaten. What was happening?

By the sound of Dean clearing his throat Y/N was startled a little, but her eyes found him only seconds later. He was wearing dark Jeans, a black shirt and her favorite brown and grey checkered button down. He smiled, but also he seemed almost a little shy.

"What..." Y/N couldn't quite believe it and was touched at the same time.

"To much?" he asked with a wry grin.

"No! No, I... love it."and she really did, her heart was mealting on the spot. "But... why?"

Dean sighed. "Okay." he came over to her and took her hands in his.

But he did not really know how to start this conversation. In his mind he had time to think about it and in the end he had decided to just wing it, when the moment came. Only now this idea was probably not the best one he ever had.

"I'm so bad at this..." he grumbled to himself, but Y/N had still heared him. "I'm sorry... Y/N."

The woman furrowed her brows a little in confusion. "What?"

"I should've noticed something. I should've realized that... something was not right between us."

"Dean..."

"I know I've been really busy lately with my work. We didn't have a lot of time for us and... god, I should've at least noticed the signs during our sex...."

Now Y/N took a step back and looked at the man infront of her questioningly. "What do you mean?"

Dean's eyes widened. "Crap..." he uttered and scratched his head. "I, ehm... after you'd been gone for four days, I followed you to Jamestown to see you."

"You did?"

"I felt like I had to. You didn't answer my calls and I had the impression that you were pulling away from me. That I was about to lose you. So I wanted to talk to you one last time."

"But..." now she was really confused. "I did not see you. You weren't there..."

"I was... but I didn't get the chance to make myself known. You were sitting outside... with your friends..."

She needed a moment before she realized what he just had said. He was there and had heared everything she was explaning to Lizzy and Cathy. He knew it now. He knew what was going on in her.

"Oh god..." an uncomfortable feeling rose within her and she touched her forehand to collect her thoughts. "I wanted to talk to you, Dean. I really wanted to. But I just didn't know how and I didn't want to..."

"I love you." Dean cut her off. "Y/N... I love you."

His words started to sink in and tears began to build in her eyes.

"I should've told you that way sooner, but... like I said, I'm really not good at this. But that's not a good excuse either. And I don't wanna lose you over something that we can fix without any problems."

He touched her cheek and tried to catch the now falling tears with his thump.

"You are so important to me... and I hope you will never feel like you can't talk to me again.

And to prove his point, he kissed her. A little cautious at first, but Y/N gave in right away and so he could deepen the kiss. It felt so good, she had really missed that, but she was still a little nervous. She layed her arms around his neck and buried her hands in his hair. Dean embraced her into a tight hug and moved from her lips to her neck. She moaned softly and goosebumps rose all over her body.

His hands slowly made their way down to her hips and landed on her bottom. He gentle squeezed and massaged her ass, while she rubbed herself on him. It felt like they were back at the beginning months ago, when they started dating. The lingering touches, the soft moans. As if they had all the time in the world.

Their clothes fell slowly piece by piece to the floor and after Dean brought Y/N down on the couch, the underwear was all that was left. But Dean kept holding her tightly in his arms, kissed her slowly but very passionately. Legs and arms intertwined it felt like they were trying to become one, not just physically but with their minds, too. Like Dean tried to connect their souls with eachother.

When the rest of the fabric fell, Dean kept eye contact while he entered her with slow and deep strokes. He moved with passion and desire as he put his hand under her hip to change the angle, to be even deeper connected to his girl.

"I love you." he said again, after he picked up some speed.

"I love you, too." Y/N answered as she came closer and closer to her climax.

And while they both came undone, her heart was bursting with love for this man, who loved her back just as much.

A/N: I don't know why, but I really loved this. 🥰 I hope you liked it too. And to anyone who came across this, let me know what you think. I'd appreciate it. 😊

@lyarr24 @leigh70 @k-slla

#fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural #jensen ackles #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #spn

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uglypastels · 4 months ago

Note

omg what about Logan being like the softest with a sensitive/shy reader. Idk in what context like maybe she’s just overwhelmed with life and kinda closed off in terms of voicing what’s wrong and you know he’s usually very stoic but he’s the BIGGEST softy. Totally not projecting btw.

YEsss Logan is such a fucking softie, no matter how hard he'd want to try and hide it. thank you for being my first request for this fandom i hope i can do it some justice 🫶 and pleeease, we love to project here so please, go right ahead.

warnings: darkness. anxiety. loneliness. alcohol. fem!reader. reader's mutation specified. mentions of past [implied toxic] relationship. so some angst but also bunch of fluff at the end. also please don't come for me if he's a bit out of character. this is my first time writing Logan so it will be trial and error.

~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

It was the dead of the night. Quite literally. All around you was so quiet and dark that the rest of the world might as well have ceased to exist. All you heard was the floorboards creaking under your footsteps as slivers of moonlight illuminated your path through the corridors of the mansion. It was the rare instance that you felt at peace.

Yes, you knew almost as soon as you stepped inside the large building and saw all these mutants walking around happily and carelessly that you had found a true safe haven, and yet, months later, you still had not found your bearings. It did not help that you were not exactly in the age bracket of most of the residents here. Having the mansion double as a school meant most of the mutants were in that school-going age range, and while they were lovely (for the most part), you had no desire to befriend children. Then, those who you felt more drawn to socially, like Storm or Jean, were all apart of that special ops team, which always left them busy, if not completely absent, while away on missions.

Thus, most of your days went by in solitude. Something you had gotten used to throughout your life. Over the years it had become natural for you to simply disappear into your surroundings. Wether you wanted to or not, people simply overlooked you. In hindsight, it explained your mutation perfectly… or was that just an aftereffect of it? You had always wondered if it was one’s personality that influenced the mutation or the other way around.

Either way, for you, it all merged into one dark abyss.

By now, you had gotten a hang of all the floor plans of the giant building, especially the route between your room and the kitchens.

You hadn’t checked the clock when you got out of bed, but it must have been around 2 am, if not later. You didn’t expect anyone to be up at this ungodly hour. Especially not walking out of the dark kitchen exactly as you were coming through the threshold. The two of you bump, chest to chest, and the contact immediately made you burst out in a high-pitched scream. From the other side of the impact, you heard a muffled grunt and the sound of a blade being pulled. That was enough for your flight or fight mode to activate. You almost choked on the deep breath you took. The blade swung in your direction, but it only slashed the air where you once stood.

‘Who’s there?’ it was a male voice. Hard and deep, almost wild. In your other form, your eyes adapted much better to the dark, and so you could see him looking around himself wildly. You counted the sharp appendages in his hands— no, they were coming out of his arms— six long claw-like blades ready to impale the very first thing that’d move.

There was no doubt about it that this must have been the infamous Logan everyone around the mansion talked about. From what you had heard, he had been away for almost a year on some top-secret assignment for the Professor, but now he had apparently returned.

And what a comeback he has made, nearly stabbing you in the hallway.

‘Who’s there?’ he repeated his question louder, still looking around.

‘Just me.’ Your voice came out as the exact opposite of his, soft and weak, and you immediately regretted your words. Just me, as if he was supposed to know what that meant.

But it must have done the trick, as Logan retracted his claws. His shoulders visibly slacked at the lack of imminent danger.

‘Well, Me, you can come out of hiding. I’m not gonna hurt ya,’ he grumbled, ‘let me just turn the light on–’

‘Wait!’ You squeezed your eyes shut and let the cool air of the night brush over your bare arms. When you opened them again, all you could see was Logan’s large frame standing inside the kitchen, most likely hovering over the light switch, surprised at your sudden call.

‘Sorry, you can uhm– turn the lights on now.’ And like that, with a quiet flick, the kitchen illuminated with a soft orange glow.

Logan’s eyes were immediately on you, scanning you up and down for any sign of recognition, but you already knew there would be none. Even if he had ever seen you before, there never was.

‘Do I know you?’ he cocked his head with the question, and all you could do was shake your head.

‘I doubt it.’ No one knew you, but that didn’t feel like a smart response.

‘Care to introduce yourself, Bub?’ He leaned against the wall with the light switch, and maybe it was his overall greatness as he practically towered over you, but you felt a rush of heat fall over your face as he looked down at you in expectance. Awkwardly, you pushed out the sounds that formed your name, with a bonus of an extended hand for him to shake.

‘And you must be Logan, right?’

He confirmed your suspicion with a grunt as he took your hand, squeezed firmly, but not painfully, and shook it once. Then, silence fell between you.

Two strangers who met in a complete, nearly fatal accident. It was only to be expected you would have nothing to say to one another. But you were, after all both awake this late in the night, and that was enough to compel you to talk.

‘Couldn’t sleep?’

‘Just got back, actually.’ His eyes glanced to your side and that is when you noticed the duffel bag that lay in the corridor. Then, only when you looked back at him did you take in what he was wearing. Not the expected gym shorts or sweatpants with an old shirt. Instead, Logan was dressed in a black button-up under a dark motorcycle jacket. With that, he had a boot cut-jeans and the boots to match. From the tiny dark dotted pattern on his shoulders and the light pitter-pattering that was occurring outside, it was visible he had just come from out of the rain.

Immediately, a parade of questions entered your mind. Where had he been? Why did he come back so late? What was he doing in the kitchen? And so much more, though none of it would leave your mouth as you doubted he would talk to you about his secret mission.

‘You alright?’ His brows furrowed as he looked down at you, and you realised how you must have looked. Staring up at him with wide eyes, not saying a single thing. Another heat flare hit your cheeks.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

He cocked his head in an examinatory fashion. The disbelief evident in his eyes.

‘You’re new here, aren’t you?’

‘Relatively,’ you shrugged. ‘Got here a few months ago.’

‘Parents kicked you out?’ He assumed the most common backstory that comes with the residents of the mansion.

‘Not exactly,’ you kept your response short. After all, you could hardly tell a stranger you just met that your boyfriend had kicked you out of your shared apartment when he found out about your genetic abnormality. You had never been sure how he would have reacted, but the events that unfolded were even beyond your imagination. But the past was the past, and you didn’t want to dwell on it. The important part was that not a day after this conversation, you were crying in your car with nowhere to go. It was by chance that weeks after your break-up/eviction, you stumbled into some other mutants who told you about the Professor. You weren’t too sure about going to seek shelter at a school of all places, but in reality, the Academy was much more than that. Though it did give you the perfect opportunity to safely train your abilities.

That and so much more was what went through your head, but you didn’t say any of that to Logan. Why would you? He didn’t know you. He didn’t care about your problems, and you didn’t blame him for it.

On the contrary, you appreciated that he didn’t press you for more details. When you answered the way you did, he simply nodded in understanding and made his way over to the fridge. The blue glow illuminated his tense features. Strange, for a man who had been a year on the go on some secret spy adventure, you would have expected him to return at least a bit beaten up. But besides maybe some signs of a bad sleep schedule, no form of strain was visible on his face.

‘You want something?’ he looked over at you, making you realise you had been, in fact, staring and not very subtly either.

‘I’m good, thanks.’

‘Suit yourself,’ he went back to inspecting the contents of the fridge before sighing with disappointment. ‘They still don’t have anything stronger around here?’

‘Oh, if you’re looking for beer–’ you walked over to a cabinet at the other end of the kitchen. You tapped a corner, and a small code pad appeared. You tapped in the code, and the cabinet opened to reveal a fully stocked mini-bar. ‘Scott had it installed over the summer,’ you explained when you saw Logan’s confused expression.

‘Explains the babyproofing.’ He walked over, and you handed him a cool bottle of beer.

‘Well, it is a school after all.’ You held in a smile as the thought occurred to you that the kids might not have been the only ones who weren’t supposed to know about the secret compartment. The rivalry between Cyclops and the Wolverine was known all too well around the whole campus, even for newcomers such as yourself.

Logan smirked, taking his beer. You were about to offer a bottle opener, but he hit the neck of the bottle against the edge of the table and with a pop and a clink, the cap came right off.

‘Here,’ he exchanged your bottles, giving you the open one. You watched him repeat his actions with the second drink. Your eyes were still on him as he chugged down half of the beer in one go. He probably could have downed the whole thing if it wasn’t for his look down at you, most likely noticing your entranced look.

‘That staring a part of your powers, too, then?’ he commented, and the acknowledgement immediately made you turn your head in the direction of the window.

‘Sorry. I just— I tend to do that, I guess.’ You wrinkled your nose. Being on your own around so many people, you had gotten used to people watching, observing them from a distance like a show on TV that you kept on for the background noise.

‘What do you do, anyway?’ He asked bluntly, ‘I thought I had done you in good back there.’

‘You would have,’ you chuckled, remembering just how close his claws had come into contact with you. ‘It’s hard to explain. I just kind of—’ You noticed the shadow that fell over the floor from the table and lightly grazed it with the tip of your toe. With a deep breath, the world in front of you changed. Except the exact opposite was the truth. ‘Disappear.’ You finished the sentence, punctuated by your new state.

Logan’s eyes widened as you disappeared in front of his eyes. Where the shock came from, he couldn’t explain. He had encountered these sorts of mutants before. But this felt different than regular invisibility or teleportation. With his heightened senses, he could always detect those sorts of hijinks. No one ever disappeared to him. But you— as soon as you had faded away, it was as if you had completely fallen off the face of the earth. Not a single trace of you lingered behind. When you spoke, just as you had in the hallway, your voice didn’t seem to be coming from one place. It was all around him, almost like a whisper, a voice inside his own head.

With a blink of an eye, you reappeared before him. Just as you had stood there moments before.

‘There’s not really a name for this, I think; at least no one around here could come up with anything that made sense.’ Not that you had any conversations that made people interested enough to do the research. ‘But from my own understanding, I kind of become one with the shadows.’

‘And what about the light?’ he recalled your yelp when he had tried to turn on the light.

‘I merge with the dark, and so when new light sources interfere… it’s not pretty.’

Logan simply nodded as he took the last swig of his beer.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, you leaning against the counter and he against the large table.

‘You’re doing it again, Bub.’ He smirked, calling out your lost stare.

‘Sorry,’ you hadn’t even realised you were doing it. You had just been looking around the room and may have, perhaps, accidentally lingered a look at his frame for a few seconds. And then you caught sight of his hands. More specifically, his knuckles. There was a faint pink glow on the skin, but besides that, you would never be able to tell that deadly claws could grow out from there. You blinked. ‘Sorry.’ You were doing it again. Quickly, you drank the rest of your beer. The bitter taste lingered in your throat, suffocating the burning questions that you wanted to ask.

‘Spill it out.’ He hit you by surprise with the command.

‘Uh–what?’

You knew there were plenty of mindreaders around, but you had not thought it was one of Logan’s abilities. ‘How did you–’

‘It’s all in your face, sweetheart. You think just ‘cause you’re quiet, you’re hard to read, don’t you.’ His assumption left you a bit stunned. It wasn’t that you had thought exactly that, but more so that you never considered that you were making any expressions that were that easy to interpret, as you never really had anyone pay that much attention to you to point it out.

‘If you want to say something, just say it.’ Logan said the corner of his lips lifted in a small smile. ‘If you’re wondering if it hurts,’ he looked down at his knuckles, ‘it hurts just as any other one-foot-long knife cutting through skin.’

‘That’s awful.’ You gasped, considering what it must be like to have such a mutation that inadvertently harmed you any time you used it.

‘You get used to it after a while.’

Another round of silence. This time, the longer it went on, the more you started thinking how you must be inconveniencing him. With the beers drank, there was little for you both to still be doing here, but also didn’t want to be rude by just up and leaving. After all, you didn’t know Logan very well.

‘You sure you’re alright?’ He asked, coming out from behind the table.

‘Yeah.’ You tried to smile but could tell it probably did not reach your eyes. Logan moved with a sense of apprehension, unsure of how to approach you. Being a year on the road, not to mention the years of solitude before he had joined the Professor’s team, had not exactly prepared him for these kinds of situations. He didn’t know the right things to do or to say. But to you, just his presence was enough. Just him being there, talking, or in this case, just seeing you, was more than you could have asked for. ‘I’m good.’

And yet, ironically, though you had actually meant it for once, you really did feel alright, but something about the situation caused tears to prickle in the corners of your eyes. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation that made you overly sensitive. Or the alcohol.

You blinked the tears away and smiled awkwardly. ‘It’s just been a long day.’ or week. Month. Year. How about your entire life?

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ There was that quirk in his lip again, that ghost of a smile. And you couldn’t figure out if his response was just a sarcastic quip, understandably referring to his past days, which you were sure did not consist of a walk in the park. Or did he actually mean it, and he did want you to tell him more? Well, your moment of contemplation brought on another wave of silence, and the heavier it fell, the worse you felt to go back to your problems.

The sudden sound of footsteps pulled you back into your world. People must be slowly waking up; meanwhile, you hadn’t had an hour of sleep yet, and the effect of that started to hit.

‘I should— should probably go.’ You muttered, taking small steps in the direction of the door.

‘Well, the offer always stands.’ Logan followed you with his eyes, turning in his spot as you passed by him. See you around, Nightshade.’

‘What?’ the nickname caught you off-guard, stopping you in your tracks.

‘Sorry,’ Logan winced, ‘I don’t know—’ that’s what he gets for trying to be cute.

‘No, don’t apologise. I like it.’ Your smile finally found its full form. A “thank you” almost slipped past it, but you held yourself back. It felt too cheesy to get all sentimental about something as silly as a nickname. Especially since he didn’t know what it meant for you. He didn’t need to know didn’t think you’d ever belong amongst these people enough to get a moniker.

And maybe it didn’t mean anything at all, maybe he had just said it as a mindless comment on your powers. Or maybe not. Maybe he had really tried hard to put that smile on your face.

You would never know.

Unless you took that one small step. Because, of course, all you had to do was ask, just like he had told you, but maybe another time. For now, you just bid him farewell, hoping for that next opportunity to certainly come sooner than later.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

#logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett x reader #x-men fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluff #imagine #request #logan howlett fanfic #wolverine #wolverine fanfic #x men #x men fanfiction

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midnightcrw · 1 year ago

Text

Mama's Boy

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Summary: Holding and seeing his daughter for the first time

a/n: Did I almost cry while writing this? Yes, I almost did. But I really hope you all will like it. The story about Simon's mother is made up by me, but I just thought it would explain why I thought of naming Simon's daughter Daisy.

“She has your eyes.” He whispered softly under his breath.

You smiled as you sat down beside him. Daisy did have your eyes, but the rest of her resembled Simon.

"She looks more like you, though," you said quietly as you looked at your daughter.

It was the first time he had held and seen her since his mission a month ago.

At first he had hesitated to hold her, but now that she was in his arms, he seemed to relax slightly as he admired her.

Daisy was more of a mini-Simon, her features almost identical to his.

Your beloved husband was still a man of few words, and looked more like a wall of ice at first. But you knew how to see past that veneer of stoicism, his beautiful eyes were always filled with a wealth of unspoken emotions.

Daisy was his everything, and as he sat there holding their little bundle of joy, he silently thanked the heavens for leading him to you.

Was it all a stroke of fate, or destiny? Nobody could say for certain.

"What did you name her?" Simon whispered, not wanting to disturb Daisy's peaceful expression as he still kept his eyes on her.

"Daisy," you said softly, almost being too afraid to utter it out.

And for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Simon's eyes widened slightly as his shoulders tensed.

You were afraid of how he would react. The two of you hadn't talked about baby names before, but you had one in mind.

Simon didn't usually talk about his past, only when it really ate him alive, and one thing that stuck with you was the story he once told you.

Simon's mom loved flowers, especially Daisy's. She always kept some in a little vase. She used to tell him that whenever things got bad at home, she would take a few of Daisy's home with her because they meant new beginnings.

It was a silly thought, but it gave her hope. If the new beginning wasn't meant for her, at least she wanted it to be for Simon.

You remembered tearing up at the story, and from then on you knew you would name your daughter Daisy.

His eyes widened slightly as he looked back at you.

"Daisy." Simon repeated slowly as he took a moment to absorb what you had said.

Your husband was a private person by nature, but you noticed that he was beginning to show signs of emotion. His face softened, revealing the faintest smile as his lips formed the words...

"Thank you."

His lips trembled slightly as he bit his lower lip, while a single tear made its way down your face.

You kissed his cheek and watched him hold her. You hadn't named her after his own mother, knowing how sensitive the subject was for him. But you had chosen Daisy because it would make it easier for him to look at her and remember a good memory his mother had left behind.

Simon still held his tears back as he looked at Daisy. His precious daughter.

And he knew that for a fact, his mother was watching from above, with a smile on her face.

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley oneshot #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader #simon ghost x you

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 3 months ago

Text

archives l Javier Peña

Summary: you shouldn't have met him there

Warnings: +18, smut, angst, swearing, sex without protection (don’t do that!),

A/N: I don't have much to say. I'll just leave this here. please be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

"Shit!"

You cursed quietly as the cardboard box you were trying to take off slipped out of your hands and fell to the archive floor, spilling its contents. Folders with carelessly written names, scattered pages of typescript, photos - all of this now lay under your feet.

You had been sitting in this dark and musty room for almost an hour, trying to find the documents you needed. But the number of shelves and bookcases made this place a real labyrinth. Your eyes slid over the names and places that the files lying on the floor referred to - still not that one.

Another dark alley didn’t look inviting, but you had no other choice. You strained your eyes when suddenly you heard a strange movement, and then a voice that sent shivers down your spine.

"A lonely woman in a place like this." someone tsk-tsked approaching you "I guess they don't teach you anything in this office, do they?"

You sighed with relief when you saw the familiar face of a man leaning against the shelf next to you.

"Javier. You shouldn't be sneaking around like that." you hissed. "What are you doing here anyway? It's late."

"I had some paperwork." he replied, his dark eyes shamelessly gliding over your figure. "I saw you left your stuff. I thought I'd look for you."

"Mhm. For what purpose?"

You saw the tip of his tongue as he licked his lips with it. "I haven't seen you in a while." he noted.

"I'm here all the time." you mumbled and averted your gaze to the shelves in front of you. Although you could see the letters that formed the descriptions of individual boxes, you didn't understand anything from them. The room suddenly seemed even more stuffy to you.

"I haven't seen you at my place." he clarified.

Something tightened your insides. You knew perfectly well what Javier meant. You knew it all too well…

For the past few months, you and Javier Peña had a certain relationship. It all started after one of the more brutal arrests. You were both stressed and overstimulated, and then something snapped and without knowing how you ended up in Javier's apartment fucking him on the couch.

No. You knew exactly how you ended up there. You weren't drunk, and neither was he. But then you had a few drinks and felt terrible guilt. Javier absolved you, and showed up at your place a few days later. And you fucked again, this time in your bed.

It was just sex.

To get rid of the pressure and stress. And Peña had a lot of it in him. Sometimes it was rough and strong, sometimes he used the time to play with you, like a predator before devouring its prey. But you didn't complain.

Only when you noticed that you were waiting for the familiar knock on the door, that you were searching for him with your eyes in the office, that you were sensitive to the sound of his voice - that made you think.

That's when you backed off. "This is the last time." You told him as you put on your panties. "I met someone. He's a nice guy. He works at the embassy." Javier snorted. He didn't believe that you could leave him. Not when his cum was still dripping down your thigh. But you left his apartment, the door closed, and that was it.

He saw you with that guy. Once in one of the bars. And he knew that you saw him too. That evening, for the first time in a long time, he took a hooker home. But she wasn't you.

You became his obsession. You were within arm's reach, and yet he couldn't touch you. And then he realized that it hadn't been just about sex for a long time.

He could see that you were confused. Your fingers were nervously tapping some rhythm on one of the shelves, your eyes were avoiding his.

"We talked about it." You finally answered.

"Yeah, I know. You have someone." Javier snorted "A nice guy from the embassy. Did you tell him about us?"

"There was no 'us'."

"So you didn't." A smirk spread under his mustache, and you felt like punching him in the face. "You're a naughty girl."

"Oh, stop it!" You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. "Don't act like a kid who lost a toy. You have plenty of them!"

Peña tilted his head, watching you carefully, processing your words. There was something hypnotizing about him. You saw his Adam's apple move as he swallowed, his chest heaving with his steady breath. His eyes, dark as night, were still watching you, and you were slowly afraid to move.

Finally, you were the first to speak. "Listen, I don't know what you've got in mind, but I'm not going to get into this. I'm in a healthy relationship with a cool guy, you're not going to interrogate me now."

"A happy relationship?"

"W-What?" you stuttered, surprised.

"I'm asking if it's a happy relationship." Javier raised his eyebrows slightly, repeating his question, "You know, satisfying. Exciting. Arousing."

He said each word in a way that hit all your senses at once.

"A healthy one." You repeated, and he smiled again.

He took a few lazy steps toward you, his fingers sliding over the boxes on the shelves.

"So you're not getting wet just thinking about him?" his voice lowered and you felt warmth creeping up your neck "Don't you feel that pleasant shiver when he's close? Does he know what he has to do to make you come in just a few minutes? How long did it take us, hermosa? Four, or five?"

"You're an asshole, Peña!" you hissed.

"I am." he shrugged "But you felt good with me, didn't you? You were in my bed like that lazy kitten stretching in the sheets. Your thighs covered in hickeys. You had chaff instead of brains from how many times I let you come."

Every word he said struck those chords inside you that made your legs go numb. Peña was a devil in human skin and he decided to possess you. He was so close that you could smell the remnants of his cologne and cigarettes. This must have been what hell looked like. You were damned.

"I'm happy, Javier." you said quietly "He treats me well."

Warm fingers brushed a few strands of hair away from your face, running over your warm cheeks to your chin.

"That's good." he mumbled. "If he treated you badly I would have to kill him, cariño. But was I bad to you? Tell me."

Finally you looked into his eyes, almost defiantly. Javier wanted to kiss you right then, but he held back.

"So you tell me how you treated me, Javier." you said. "Who was I to you? A pussy on two legs that you had whenever you wanted?"

"That's funny." he laughed quietly. "You don't say anything about the evenings when you came to visit me." you swallowed loudly. "You were so horny then. So unsatisfied. You let me do such things to you..."

"Shut up!"

A sly smile appeared on his face again. You were already in a losing position. But suddenly Javier softened.

"Do you love him?"

"Please."

"Do you?"

"It's not that simple."

"Oh, it is. You see, baby, if someone asked me if I loved you..." your heart stopped beating for a moment, you listened to his words with horror "...I'd tell him to fuck off." You couldn't help but snort, and Javier smiled but didn't stop talking "But if I asked myself, do you know what I'd answer? I'd say you're a thorn in my side. You've dug yourself under my skin. You've made yourself at home in my heart. I'm pissed off when I see you with him. And when I think of him fucking you..."

His hands tightened on your hips. You were so stunned by his words that you didn't protest when he pulled you closer.

"Tell me that if I slip my hand into your panties, I won't feel how wet you are. This pussy knows she’s only mine. And I want you, all of you."

"Javier, please..." your lips brushed against his.

"What are you asking for, cariño? I'll do anything for you. Just tell me."

Tears pressed into your eyes. His words filled your head, reaching for everything you didn't want to feel. Fear followed right behind the desire, how much Javier had imprinted himself on your heart.

"Don't destroy me, Javier." You whispered as the first tear rolled down your cheek. "I couldn't be just your girl for one night anymore. It was killing me... The thought of never owning you."

"I've been just yours for a long time, hermosa. And I'll never stop being."

His lips crashed against yours so hard that you could barely catch your breath.

Your fingers slid into his hair as you pressed yourself even closer to him. God! You missed him so much. It was torture to work with Peña in the same place, when looking at him you remembered how his head was between your legs giving you orgasm after orgasm.

And now his tongue was deep in your mouth again, his hand tightened on your breast, but your moan was drowned out.

You felt the shelf behind you, and Javier's body pressed you against it hard, spreading your legs with his thigh. The hard bulge in his pants rubbed against you, making you feel hot in your core.

His lips slid down your neck, nibbling and kissing the sensitive skin. Your blouse and bra were pulled up to free your breasts. Hot lips sucked on your nipple. You rolled your hips to feel the friction, something to give you relief, because you couldn't hold it in anymore.

Javier overwhelmed your senses, and your body begged for him intensely.

"Just as I thought." he mumbled as your breast slipped from his lips and his hand dug into your panties. "You're wet. So juicy, hermosa. Just for me."

"Please, Javier, I want to feel you." you stuttered with difficulty.

You could see in his eyes that he was already on the edge. He was barely holding himself back from destroying you right now, in a second. But as your hands began to unbuckle his belt, he began to pull up your skirt.

"I want to feel that tight pussy again." he panted as he grabbed your thigh tightly and rested it on his hip, opening you up for him. "You were rude to take her away from me, you know? I was starving to taste her again." he pushed your panties aside and his fingers ran over your folds "Tell me you want me. Tell me you want me to ruin this beautiful pussy, hermosa."

"I want you, Javi." you whispered "I'm only yours."

"That's right. Only mine."

With one quick thrust, his hard cock slid inside you. You moaned loudly at the sudden stretch. Javir pushed himself all the way to the base, filling you up like only he could. You were pinned to the shelf behind you by his body, but you didn't mind.

Peña began to move hard. His hand gripped your thigh, and the other helped you stabilize. With each subsequent thrust, you felt like he was going deeper. His lips found yours, but they were just kisses stealing your precious breath.

"Fuck, you take me so well. You're made for me, baby." he panted as he pressed his face against your cheek "I want you all to myself again, to fuck you the way you like. To hear you scream my name until - shit - I fill you to the brim. You like that, don't you? You love the way my cum leaks out of you."

"I... I didn't let him." you replied, tightening your fingers in his hair "He never... I never let him cum inside me. Only you, Javi... Only you."

"Fuck! I knew it!" he kissed you hard, his movements quickening.

You couldn't pretend anymore. You were on the edge, and Javier wanted to push you off with great pleasure. His cock moved inside you, hitting the spot you needed.

"Cum for me, cariño! I want to feel you. I want to feel that pussy squeeze me. Shit! I’ve got you, baby!"

An animalistic moan escaped your throat, your nails digging into his shoulder. But Javier didn't feel any pain. He only felt you, saw only you. He saw your body trembling with the pleasure he gave you. Now his thrusts were stronger, but he didn't need much to come.

"Fuck, you're only mine. Only mine." he panted, hiding his face near your neck as his seed poured inside you.

You felt a twitch as he spurted the last drops, and then he stopped. This small space was filled only by your breath. You felt the sweat running down your back, Javier's hot body. And then he pulled out, leaving you strangely empty.

You adjusted your clothes as he buttoned his pants, and after a moment you felt warm hands cupping your face, his lips finding yours again. He kissed you slowly, tenderly, gently. Like a lover, not the man who had just fucked you in your office archives. Although maybe it was the same thing.

He rested his forehead against yours leaving you in a sweet distraction "I don't want you to slip away from me again." he whispered "Never again."

"I won't do that." you replied "I'll always be a thorn in your side."

"The sexiest I know."

He kissed you again and you knew what you had to do. You were scared but you knew that together you would do it. And after this all you had was each other.

And that was good.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #pedro pascal #javier pena x reader #javier pena #javier pena x you

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vivwritesfics · 8 months ago

Text

New Perspective

Bradley knew how it had happened. She told him that she'd never been eaten out, batted her pretty eyelashes at him and he was on his knees, face buried between her lips. But it had turned her into a pillow princess, Bradley eagerly diving between her spread legs whenever she asked. Something had to change

Warnings: age gap relationship, anal mentioned (not performed), oral (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimation, p in v, oral (male!receiving), face fucking, face painting, porn with 0 plot, cum eating

Bradley knew how it had happened. It was third date. They'd gotten to the restaurant, had one drink, and immediately bailed. Instead they got takeout, some more drinks, and returned to his place.

It was there on the sofa, as they sipped their drinks and ate takeout, that she confessed. They'd been together physically only once before, during their last date. It was what had made her comfortable enough to admit this to the older man she was seeing.

"I've never... been eaten out before."

It was a game of sorts, listing the things they hadn't done, the things they wanted to do. It hadn't started out sexual, but when Bradley admitted that he had never done anal, she knew she had to up the ante.

Bradley blinked at her, a surprised smile on his face. "You're kidding," he had said, his hand settling on top of hers. "So, nobody has ever had their mouth on your pussy before?" He asked, his mouth twitching up in a smile.

She shook her head.

Bradley took her to the bedroom after that. Well, first he pressed his lips to hers, pressing her into the couch. She had moaned into his mouth, legs locking around his middle as he hovered over her.

As she began pushing his shirt off of his shoulders, he stood up, pulling her with him. Bradley took her to the bedroom after that. He carried her, hands under her thighs as he walked her the short distance to his bedroom.

He laid her down on his sheets and pulled her underwear down her legs, discarding them on his bedroom floor. Pushing her skirt up, he kissed down her thighs, his moustache catching on her skin, burning slightly in all of the right ways.

Bradley took his time with her that night. He kissed her inner thigh, as close as he could get without properly touching where she needed him. And then he licked through her folds.

She came several times from oral alone. Bradley made sure of it. The way her body jolted each time his nose bumped her clit, and the way her moans grew louder every time he brought her close. Each orgasm was one that had her legs shaking. It was incredible, an experience she never wanted to end.

That was until she was pushing his head away, sore, sensitive and overstimulated. Bradley planted one last kiss on her soaked cunt and her hips swivelled away from him.

He cleaned her up after that, giving her plenty of time to recover before he fucked her, his cock pistoning in and out of her again and again and again.

She lost count of just how many orgasms she had that night.

It became a habit after that. Every time Bradley kissed her slow, his lips travelling down her neck, she opened her legs and he buried his face between them. Every time she laid there while Bradley did all of the work. He had accidentally turned her into a pillow princess.

She was his princess though. At first, Bradley didn't mind. He loved hearing the noises she would make while she came on his tongue, loved kissing her lips while he tasted of her.

But then, one day as Hangman was bragging about his latest sexual exploits, Bradley realised something. By this point they'd been together for a good six months, if not longer. And, in those six months, he hadn't had his dick sucked.

It wasn't like he hadn't thought of it. He'd woken up several times, cock achingly hard after dreaming of her on her knees, drool running down her chin as he pushed his cock between her lips.

And soon, it was something he couldn't stop thinking about. When at the navy hangar, servicing the Super Hornet that was his responsibility, it was all he could think about. Her face, painted with his cum.

Bradley knew he had to do something about it.

He went home to her that night. He didn't say hello, just immediately pressed his lips to hers. It was forceful and hot and, before she had said anything to him, she was moaning into his mouth.

Just as he had on the night of their third date, Bradley carried her to the bedroom. His hands were holding her thighs as he carried her down the hall and into the bedroom.

When he dropped her onto the bed, she pushed down her panties and opened her legs. But Bradley let out a single laugh. "Not this time, pretty girl," he said and pulled her to the end of the bed.

As he did, she unzipped his trousers and freed his cock. "I want you to suck my cock."

The way in which she slid from the bed and onto her knees, she was unsure. "Have you ever done this before, pretty girl?" He asked, his hand stroking over the skin on the side of her neck.

She swallowed. "Yeah, Bradley, I have," she said, wrapping her fingers around him.

Bradley's eyes shut. "Fuck," he hissed. It had been so long since somebody other than himself had touched his cock. After fantasising about this for weeks, maybe months, now, it was finally happening. She was really touching him.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her as she brought his cock to her lips. She didn't wrap her lips around him immediately, instead giving his tip little kitten licks. It was oh so teasing but oh so good. Bradley almost came then and there, just from watching her.

But finally, she wrapped her lips around him. She didn't take him all the way in, didn't have her nose buried in his pubic hair, not yet. "Fuck, pretty girl," Bradley hissed as she sucked the tip. "You're doing so good."

Finally, she took him as far as she could. It wasn't all the way, but it was as far as she could go. Tears sprang to her eyes and she took a moment to breath through her nose, to try her best not to gag.

His hands were in her hair, gently stroking through it. "You okay?" He asked and she nodded, keeping her lips around him.

She pulled back after that and pushed forward again. He gave her time to get into a rhythm, keeping his hands in her hair. "Holy shit, pretty girl," he whispered through a series of moans. "So good f' me."

Bradley might not have noticed when his hips began moving. Maybe because it was slow at first, matching the rhythm of her movements. But soon He was fucking her face, hands holding her in place as he moved.

She moaned around him as drool ran down her chin. It really was a scene from Bradley's fantasy, but he was too blissed out to notice.

"Fuck, baby," he cried, his hips stuttering. "I'm gonna-"

He pulled out just before he came, spurting over her face. Bradley's chest was heaving as he looked down at her, his cum painting her skin, her lips, some of it getting in her hair. "You're gorgeous," he said through a breath as he pulled her up.

Using his finger, he scooped up the cum from her cheek and held his finger to her lips, she was only more than happy to bring it between her lips and suck.

Bradley sat her down on the bed. He kissed her once and got to his own knees, setting himself up between her own legs. He was going to give her the most earth shattering orgasm ever.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader smut #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster smut #rooster x reader smut #top gun imagine #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #top gun

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shadowdaddies · 8 months ago

Note

How about a drabble of Cass and Az touching their mate’s wings for the first time. Maybe she has more sensitive wings than the average Illyrian? I love your writing 💖💖

this was so sweet, thank you for the request 💜 it has some angst that I couldn't avoid since it's a female Illyrian, but it's overall very fluffy and lovely

New Memories

Azriel x Reader x Cassian

warnings: mentions of past trauma (attempted wing clipping), light smut (wing play)

“Hi, sweetheart,” Cassian greeted, his rough voice soothing as you padded towards the bed where your mates lay.

Azriel’s eyes glowed with appreciation at the sight of you in your nightgown, the short lacy fabric leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Did you have a good day?” Azriel hummed, moving over to one side of the bed as he lifted the covers to help you crawl between the two males.

Settling into the bed, you sighed at the feeling of soft pillows cradling your neck, the proximity to your mates and the warmth of the comforter sending resounding peace through your tired bones.

“It was very good,” you murmured, head leaning against Cassian’s shoulder while your hand reached to hold Azriel’s. Cassian set down the book he’d been reading, putting it aside in favor of wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

A calloused fingertip brushed the tip of your wing, sending you into shock as you jumped out of both your mates’ hold. Cassian instantly shot to his feet, and you turned to see wide hazel eyes glassy with barely contained emotion.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to... I was trying to put my arm around you, sweetheart. I promise,” Cassian breathed, strong arms folded across himself in shame.

His guilt and pain reverberated through the bond with dizzying force, the emotions so strong it nearly broke your heart. Opening your mouth to speak, Azriel chimed in from behind you first.

“Hey,” the shadowsinger cooed, voice gentle as he refrained from touching you in favor of sending a cool shadow to brush your arm. “Are you okay? Talk to us.”

Inhaling a deep breath, you tried willing yourself to calm, but once your eyes were closed, memories of the last - and only - time your wings had been touched flashed through your mind. Your older brothers holding you down, your father gathering the tools to clip your wings. Your screams ringing through Windhaven in a desperate plea for the Mother to have mercy on you.

The last thing you remembered was a flashing of blue and red light, raw power shaking the foundations of your home as you were swept into familiar arms. It was the watershed moment of your life - the most important, the most harrowing, the most blessed - when your mates found you.

You’d never allowed anyone to touch your wings in the months since then. It was an act only associated with pain and suffering for you. But the feeling of Cassian’s hand, so gentle and tender against your body, brought you to a realization.

You looked up at Azriel, giving him a gentle smile as you reached back out for his hand. Turning to where Cassian stood, you let your feelings flow down the bond - the pain, the trauma, and the softness and hope you felt from him.

“Come here, Cass,” you whispered, patting the bed where he had been just moments before. You sat up against the headboard, bringing both of your mates into sight as you took a deep breath.

“I would like for you to touch my wings,” you announced, voice shaking from nerves. Cassian’s guilty expression did not let up, Azriel’s own face showing concern that propelled you to continue. “The only memories I have of my wings being touched are by those who didn’t love or respect me. I want to change that. I don’t want to give them the power of being the only ones to touch such a valuable part of me.”

You took each of their hands in your own, sitting up to let your wings fully flare open behind you. “I want those memories to belong with the males I love, so while I would like to go slowly... It would mean the world to me, if you would show me how wings are meant to be touched.”

“Oh, angel,” Azriel purred, eyes darkening as his shadows danced. “You are meant to be worshipped. Every part of you.”

You flushed under his intense presence, averting your gaze to Cassian to find the other Illyrian male eyeing you just as hungrily.

“You are a goddess,” he whispered, almost more to himself than to you. Tucking a long onyx strand behind his ear, Cassian moved closer to you, he and Azriel moving in sync like practiced warriors.

Your wings twitched behind you, butterflies fluttering in your stomach with anticipation. Shadows slipped over the edges of Azriel’s shoulders, skating soothing motions over your arms and legs, twining in your hair.

“You tell us if you are, at any moment, uncomfortable,” he spoke, the shadowsinger’s low voice like gravel.

You nodded frantically, nerves quickly turning to excitement as you felt the warmth emanating from Cassian’s hand at the tip of your wing. His eyes locked on yours as his fingertip met the outside, barely-there soft touch dragging down the edge.

An abrupt moan escaped your lips, catching you by surprise as your back arched dramatically. “Fuck,” you breathed, the sensations shooting straight to your core.

You heard a low chuckle to your other side, Azriel’s breath tickling your other wing. His eyes flicked to Cassian. “She’s sensitive,” he purred, and both males turned to smirk at you in a way that sent heat pooling between your legs.

Azriel’s scarred fingertip settled on your talon, testing the waters with barely restrained desire. You held his gaze, allowing the pleasure to show on your face as he slid down the prominent vein inside of your wing.

Soft moans echoed through the air, and you slumped against the cushions, wings spread beneath you as your mates took turns bringing new forms of pleasure to you. A familiar coil began to tighten in your abdomen, and your gaze flicked to Azriel in shock, only to find him looking down at you with pure male satisfaction.

“Yes,” he answered your silent question. “You can finish if your wings are touched the right way.”

Cassian growled lowly next to you, his arousal prominent from where he sat on the bed. “Would you like that? To finish like this?”

Breath escaped you, all-consuming need distracting you from everything else in the world. Managing a nod, you barely registered their warmth breath as both males drew closer to you.

Wet tongues flicked out together against each of your talons, Azriel and Cassian working in a dance to hit each sensitive spot with flawless expertise. Slick grew between your legs, your body writhing on the sheets as their soft touches and warmth flooded your senses.

You crashed into your high almost too quickly, head tilted back as you moaned curses and praises incoherently. Heart pounding, you came down from your orgasm to feel Azriel’s hand holding your own, calloused thumb stroking the back of it.

“How do you feel, love?” Cassian murmured, settling in next to you to press a kiss to your temple. The tenderness with which they held you, the comfort unlike which you had ever known, the love you felt down the bond - everything hit you at once, and tears sprang in your eyes.

Before Cassian could pull away again, you reached your hand out for him, pulling both the general and Az toward you in a warm embrace. “They’re happy tears, Cass,” you assured him through your sniffling laughter.

They seemed to understand, not pushing further questions as both males settled back into their spots on either side of you, arms wrapping around your waist as the three of you settled to sleep. How peaceful it was to be touched so tenderly, to be touched by those you love.

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 1 year ago

Text

PROVE IT ───

jackson rippner ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “You think you are possessing me / But I've got my teeth in you.” — ‘Unicorn’, Angela Carter

pairing. jackson rippner x reader

summary. after breaking up with your boyfriend. you meet a handsome stranger at a bar. you tell him your cunt’s better than the girl’s your boyfriend cheated on you with; he tells you to prove it.

warnings. swearing, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, porn with some plot, impact play, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 3.6k

a/n. i seriously doubt i wrote jackson’s character accurately in this so please comment anything i can improve on LOL🙏

It’s not often you spill your entire life story to a stranger at the bar, but this one, this stranger with his watery blue eyes and plush lips, is oddly inviting; charismatic to a fault. It makes you want to give him everything, and absently, in your alcohol riddled mind, you think he’d make a good scammer.

Or, serial killer, whichever he prefers really.

But it's not entirely his fault; you’re stress drinking, downing too many shots in too little a time frame, and the alcohol’s already hit your system ten-fold.

You’re there because you’d broken up with your boyfriend the night before. You’d been dating just short of a year. He was required to travel a lot, mostly in Europe, as per his job, and you let him go each time without qualms - love them, let them go, right?

Wrong. He’d been cheating on you since he went to Copenhagen — four months, now — with a pretty little Dane that wanted to marry.

You were furious when he told you, of course, it’s fucking insanity for him to marry someone he’s known for four months, but you began seeing all the differences between you and the woman he cheated on you with: she, a perfect homemaker, you, a distressed professional he saw maybe once a month.

“Hey, hey, don’t beat yourself up,” the stranger across from you said softly, breaking you out of your nostalgic stupor and back into reality. “‘cause he’s a right asshole. For cheating on you like that.”

The man had entered the bar hours after you did, housing a simple drink or two and absently watching the softball game on the bar TV, before you drunkenly inched closer to him, desperate to rant your dilemma to just about anyone who’d listen. He bit, and here you were now.

You peered up at the man, inspecting him. He’s gorgeous, definitely, but you can’t tell if you actually think that, or your foggy, not-been-fucked-for-months mind just wants him to rail you into next week.

No matter, you thought, downing another shot. It burned the back of your throat sweetly, fire trailing down your insides. “M’not beating myself up,” you protested weakly, “jus’ — m’just… wondering if her cunt was - so much better than mine,”

He laughed, boisterously, the kind of laugh you hear rumble out from a close friend while you detail every wrongdoing or shameful memory in your life: he’s comfortable right now, as are you.

“Well,” he inched closer, large hand sitting itself on your thigh and slowly inching upwards, “if it bothers you that much, why not prove it? That your pussy’s as good as you think.”

This wasn’t the first of his attempts to flirt with you: firstly he’d tucked a stray hair away from your face, later he swiped a drop of drink off your lip, then he’d clutched you by the waist, pulling you close to him when someone squeezed past you in the crowded bar. His brisk touch wasn’t unfamiliar by any means, but it did suggest more than the other ones, especially coupled with the lustful words he was purring in your ear.

Then, there’s a gap in your memory. One too many shots, a stranger toying with the hem of the skirt you donned for the bar, and his sweet voice in your ear was too much for your dizzy head, and the only thing you remember is this: one moment, he’s getting braver, rough fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and the next, you’re pressed against a bathroom stall wall, the handsome stranger’s knee pushing your quivering legs apart.

You’re trading wet, messy kisses, and his hands are sneakily climbing up your shirt till they reach your chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath from him: “Fuck, sweetheart, no bra? You really were looking for someone to prove you right,” he cooed, touching your breasts needily.

He’s kneading you artfully, fingers pawing at your flesh like he’s never felt something so soft, so plump. Your back arches as he does this; you’re practically putty in his hands.

It doesn’t slip past you that you’re being felt up in a bar bathroom by a gorgeous stranger whom you don’t know the name of, but you don’t care. “Please,” you beg, his name coming up completely blank on your tongue, “please.”

“‘Please’ what, honey?” The stranger says huskily, one of his hands moving from your breasts up to your jaw, pushing it to the side to gain access to your neck. “Please kiss me? Finger me? Fuck me?”

You’re too drunk - and fucking horny - to deal with his theatrics, so you whine instead of answering, your weak fingers carding through his brown locks.

“God,” he says, “How long has it been since you’ve been properly fucked? Just some touching and you’re already too fucking dumb to speak.”

His words make your cheeks burn with shame, but it also makes your core throb. The oh-so sweet stranger who listened to your problems all night telling you you’re just a dumb horny bitch is such a juxtaposition it's got you all hot and bothered.

“Please,” you beg again, more desperate than before, “I need you.”

The man let out an incredulous chuckle, head cocking back. “Baby, don’t tell me you like it like that. God, you’re such a fucking whore,” he said, before undoing his belt buckle and fly.

He had noticed how your legs clenched around his knee, how your breathing got sharper as soon as the words “dumb” and “whore” slipped out of his pretty mouth, how your fingers trailed his back needily, desperate for any kind of touch.

You bit your lip, watching the stranger through bleary, hooded eyes. He’d pulled his pants down just enough for his boxer shorts to be visible, before he grabbed you by the waist and turned you to press your face against the wall.

One of his arms then draped across your shoulders, pinning you down and arching your back, hard, making your ass press flush against the large tent in his underwear. You let out a small gasp at the feeling, and you could practically see the smirk curling slyly on his face.

He can’t be that big, right? It was just your drunk mind, making him feel bigger than you thought through his shorts. Plus, you hadn’t been fucked in over a month — you were probably just not used to it.

Because, that’d be totally unfair - he’s beautiful, charming, an amazing kisser, and has a huge cock? No fucking way — if he was all that, he’s definitely a secret terrorist, or something.

However, these days, you’ve learned that you don't have the best intuition. First, with your boyfriend, then again, with the man who just pulled out his thick cock, stroking it gently.

“Oh, fuck,” you cursed, head straining to look at him behind you. Unconsciously, you shyly closed your legs at the sight of him.

“Ah, ah, ah,” the man crooned, his other hand sliding between your legs and spreading them apart once more. “No take backs, honey. You did say you wanted me, did you not?”

The two of you were flush against each other, and you could feel his hard length resting between your legs. Just that, just him between you, already had you trembling in anticipation.

“Then fuck me already,” you bit back, feigning confidence. In actuality, you were thinking: how was all that supposed to fit? And, of all people, you, who hadn’t been stretched out to fit any cock at all, not since last month, when your boyfriend made his routine visit. You were a loyal girl, alright, and your fingers never went as deep as any cock could.

But the moment for you to reveal your worries passed, and he simpered. “So fucking eager.”

Then, his large hands smoothed down the swell of your ass, following the curve, before he lifted his hand up and came down on your cheek, making a loud noise reverberate throughout the empty bathroom.

Your breath caught in your throat, a choked gasp mixed with a tense moan coming out instead, and you flushed. Thank god you were pressed against the cold bathroom stall wall, for it provided a miniscule relief to your burning face.

He’d spanked you, and you fucking moaned.

“So you do like it dirty.” he cooed, fingers returning and hooking into the waistband of your panties.

“I bet,” he said, dragging the thin fabric down extremely slow, “that you didn’t come to the bar tonight to just drink,” he pressed closer against you, your folds now sitting right above his thick length, “you came, with no bra and a slutty skirt on, looking to get fucked senseless, didn’t you?”

He slowly slid in and out against your folds, his cock just barely grazing your clit, and you swore you could have screamed. The way he was teasing you was absolutely delectable and, in the same vein, incredibly torturous.

“Answer me, honey.” he hummed, free hand rubbing circles on the skin of your hip.

You let out an exasperated groan. “I - I came here tonight, to - ah!” you squeaked when the fat tip of the man’s cock poked your tight hole.

“You came here tonight to… what?” He said, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t slowly driving his large dick into you.

“I came here to…” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ground your thoughts, and squarely not think about how mouthwateringly good the handsome strangers cock felt, “to get—“

Then, the loudest keen you’d ever heard tore out of you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, when he suddenly shoved all of his length into your soaking cunt.

He bottomed out with a breathy laugh, watching your knees buckle and your mouth hang wide open. Then, once more, his calloused hand came down on your ass, a large crack sounding out within the bathroom.

“Shut the fuck up, whore. Someone’ll hear.” The stranger said, as if he hadn’t just made a loud noise spanking you like that.

But the way he insulted, complemented, mocked and teased all in a few sentences had you shuddering; never in your life did you think such dirty words could make you so wet.

You barely kept in another whine, waves of pleasure ebbing throughout your body. The burning pain of the spank in combination to how your walls squeezed around his cock had you barely coherent, your face taut with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he whispered, leaning down for you to hear. As he did so, however, his dick pressed further into you, and another helpless groan rolled off your tongue.

“But you’re too goddamn loud.” The stranger growled, and the arm of the hand that was pressing you against the wall shifted, now covering your mouth.

Before you could protest, he slid out, then snapped into you. Immediately, you saw stars, and a muffled mewl slipped past your lips.

“Jesus christ,” he murmured, “your little fuckhole’s taking me so well.” He began to slide in and out at a fast, rhythmic pace, so fast you could barely comprehend the ecstacy you were feeling.

“Oh my god,” you barely stuttered out past his large hand. He was pounding in and out of you relentlessly, selfishly, no regard for your moans or helpless whines, merely focussed on thrusting his fat cock into your sweet cunt.

Then, the both of you heard the bathroom door open, and you froze. The handsome stranger moved quickly, grabbing you by the waist and planting you on his lap as he sat down on the toilet. His other hand, still trained on your mouth, gripped tighter than ever when he felt the groan bubble up from your throat: this new position of you on his lap had his long length pressed right against your cervix.

“Now you really gotta be quiet, honey,” he whispered, pressing his face into your neck. You shut your eyes helplessly, a dejected whimper exiting your mouth.

“Just be fucking quiet. You don’t want everyone in this bar to know what a dirty slut you are, spreading your legs for a fucking stranger in the bathroom, right?” He said, words foul and like poison, but actions completely stark to it: he was pressing sweet, chaste kisses on your shoulder, laying his head on your back.

The man in the other stall was taking so fucking long to finish, and, despite the stranger’s words, he began to slowly rut into you, his large hands coming to rest on your hips and help you slide up and down on his cock.

Your eyes widened. “What are- ah, wh— what are you doing?” you said, a stuttered, hesitant moan leaving your mouth, but you were completely without the motivation to actually stop him: the pleasure you felt earlier had increased immensely in this slower, riskier pace he took on.

“Shh,” was all you saw him say, as you strained your neck to look at him. He looked the epitome of smug, lips curled, cheeks flushed attractively, strands of hair falling down onto his forehead.

Without his hand to muffle your groans, you muffled them yourself, biting down on your tongue. One hand of yours gripped onto the stranger's thigh to keep your balance, and your other hand sneakily traveled down to your wet, hot mound, fingers beginning to rub at your clit.

He noticed this, however, hand gripping at your wrist and pulling you back to pin your arm behind you. “Only I get to touch you,” he snarled, “because this fuckin’ pussy’s all mine. Gonna be all mine.”

You let out a shaky exhale at his words, but you found your cunt more flexible than before, the soft slapping of your skin between each other sounding easier, wetter. Jesus, did you really get more turned on by what he’d said?

Finally, the person who had wandered in and entered the stall beside you exited the bathroom entirely, and you belted out a sharp moan with how the stranger swiftly picked you up and pressed you against the wall once more, this time facing him.

He plunged his big cock into you like nothing before, animalistically, nails digging so hard into your hips you swore he drew blood. His pace was stuttered, desperate, like nothing could distract him from pounding into you, not even a fucking meteor.

You, on the other hand, were arching, the pleasure taking your body over completely. Your hands carded through his brown hair, tugging when he hit that particularly spongy spot into you. He groaned, a rough and stuttered thing, feeling himself brush against that spot every time.

Your tight cunt was stretching and contracting around his dick, like you were made with his fat length in mind, and it drove you up the fucking wall: the pain in your hip, the cold linoleum wall, his cock thrusting in and out — it was all so much, and your orgasm began to spill out from under you. It was slow, like water coming out of an overfilled glass.

“You — god, you’re fucking coming, aren’t you,” the stranger said knowingly. Your cunt had gotten tenser, stickier, trying to grip at him like you were afraid he’d never come back to you.

You nodded rapidly, opting to do so in fear an unintelligible string of groans would come out instead of your words.

He grinned, and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock deeper access into you. Your toes curled, the new angle like being impaled, his dick easily slipping past your slick folds.

One of his hands lifted off your hip and trailed across your lower stomach, “Can you feel that, honey? Its my fucking cock, so deep m’gonna shoot my come right in your womb,” he purred, pressing the bulge.

Both of you were affected, a breathy grunt slipping past his lips, and you a feverish mewl. You couldn’t believe how big he was, large enough for him to be fucking visible on you from the outside.

Suddenly, you remembered the man’s name: he’d said it, offhand, to the bartender before you dragged him to the bathroom. He asked the bartender to put your drinks on his tab, under the name Jackson.

You face grew taut, your orgasm suddenly switching from a slow, sneaky drip to a hard smack, right across your face. “Jackson! Jackson, please,” you moaned at last, his name sounding right at home on your tongue.

“Fuck, honey, you remembered? God, that’s so hot,” He whispered sweetly, then dragged you through your orgasm, thick cock pounding in and out of your throbbing core.

It was like all the pleasure had steadily built up within your insides, all up into a big ball, then had suddenly burst, flowing throughout your entire body like you weren’t already being fucked relentlessly.

“Such a - fuck - tight and pretty pussy,” he said, leaning into rest his head against your chest. You were weak, sensitively riding out your high, but you knew Jackson wasn’t quite as close.

His thrusts began getting sloppier, harsher and focussed merely on feeling your walls against every inch of him. Your head rested beside his own, your eyes practically crossing with the overstimulation.

Despite your orgasm, your cunt was still soaking, definitely dripping and marking a wet patch on both your skirt and his pants. It made you tremble, thinking of you two tiredly exiting the bathroom, disheveled and having to cover the other up.

At this point, you didn’t know what kind of filthy fucking noises were exiting your mouth, with Jackson’s grunts and groans covering up your whines completely.

“M’gonna come,” he said a few long moments later, almost inaudible. “Say my name, say who owns this tight fucking pussy.”

“You do! Jackson does!” You exclaimed, his cock ripping in and out of you quicker and more jolted. “Jackson owns this pussy!”

Jackson grinned weakly, and with one final, harried thrust, he let go deep within you. He clenched his jaw, piercing blue eyes shutting tight and losing himself within the warm and wet feeling of your cunt squeezing him for every drop.

You were so fucking full, and even when Jackson pulled his softening cock out of you — which, was still huge despite its idleness — you felt stuffed to the brim.

His come dripped down your leg, and he promptly pulled your panties up, patting your worn out cunt as he did so. “You’re taking all my fucking come, so good honey.” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to your neck. “You were right: this cunt’s better than whoever your shit ex cheated on you with.”

“Told you so.” You gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, gleeful eyes. He was an absolute darling sweetheart, it seemed, switching from degradingly fucking you to romantically praising you. “Are you… up for round two?” you said, as he slipped his hand within your own, clasping tightly. You didn’t really mean round two - though, you wouldn’t protest it, especially with his delectable way of fucking you - you actually just wanted to go home with him… see where this relationship could lead you.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. You’re comin’ home with me tonight,” he saw through you cheekily, pulling you close to him.

So, you did go home with him, and in the morning you laid beside him in the ruffled white sheets, counting the freckles on his face.

His eyes fluttered open when you shuffled. “Were you watching me?” he said, voice low and sleepy.

You nodded silently, your hand coming up to pet his skin comfortingly. After a beat passed, you asked the question that was bothering you all morning. “Jackson, you wanted to fuck me first, right?”

He blinked, tense for a moment, before smoothing out his expression. “What?” he opted on saying instead, sounding every bit clueless and entirely convincing.

Not convincing enough for you, however. “Baby, you think I didn’t notice the shots you were calling over and inching toward me? I was drunk, not stupid.”

“Are you saying I took advantage of you?” He said darkly, a side of him otherwise unknown to you ‘till now.

You raised a judging brow. “No need to be offended. I wanted to see where it was going to go: ‘did the handsome stranger want to fuck me, or did he want to kill me?’.”

He pulled you close to him, his arm snaking around your hips. “So, what are you saying?” he said, pressing a patronizing kiss to your forehead.

“Hm. Well, I jus’ wanna know if this is a one nightstand.”

“And you don’t care about the - drinks, the “taking advantage” part?”

You let out a laugh. “I was confident, darling; I keep pepper spray and a pocket knife in my purse. Even if you did - which you didn’t - I’d make it out alive.”

Jackson bit his lip, looking up at you. This had meant to be a one night stand, considering the job he had, but you were looking at him so sweetly, so accepting, like you secretly knew what he did for a living and wanted him despite it.

“Not a one night stand,” he murmured, leaning into your touch.

You beamed, and, later, when you did find out what he did for a living, you merely cocked your head. Thought about it… outweighed the pros, the cons, (and the fact you were completely right: he was perfect, but also a fucking sociopath), and merely shrugged.

“Honey, you’ll never do anything to me. Why should I care what you do for a living? Just don’t,” you warned, staring at him like you could and would fucking kill him, “cheat on me.”

You didn’t have the best intuition. And, as it turned out, a great moral compass, either.

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #jackson rippner #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut #redeye

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tarjapearce · 1 year ago

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OMG Rosie with fangs 😩 would she chomp on mama while she was drinking her milk, ouch 🤕

Just imagined this and damn, my nipples hid lol. Little Rosie is a chomper.

Miguel out of everyone knew the risks that involved into having his children. Complicated births due the baby size that could lead up to a c section, some of his mutations, like his fangs, his eye's color, or even his height.

He was so fearful to know what kind of thing would crawl up to his children's DNA that when Gabi was born, he couldn't be happier cause his little girl looked so normal.

His fears of watching Gabriella grow and constantly checking on her mouth or eyes had triggered a little fight. His insecurities were one of the biggest challenges that you, as a marriage had got through. But your constant reassuring and actions, proved that no matter how your children came, you'd love them all the same.

Just like him.

When Benjamin was born, he wasn't obsessively searching for any anomalies in his baby, but rather enjoyed his time with his son. Being over the moon was little to say when he heard the news from the doctor. He'd finally teach little Benjamin everything that he lacked as a boy.

And now, thirteen years later, he was blessed with another girl. You cried upon knowing that Gabi would have her so longed sister. Your little flower was as healthy as Gabi and Benjamin, and definitely chubbier than Benjamin, thanks to all those cheesesticks with Dulce de leche you had scarfed down.

But there she was, ready for her nightime feeding. Her grunts and fussiness was her own way to urge you to feed her.

A not so quiet 'I'm hungry, Mama".

Gabi usually kneaded your breast softly as she latched on you, Benjamin loved to pull on your nipples with a giggle, or even slap your breast softly before feeding from your milky buffet. Rosie however had developed this amusing yet painful habit to shake her little head while chomping softly on you.

As her four months old approached, so was the itch in her gums. Miguel would design devices that resembled alot your breast, cause once Rosie had been fed, your nipples would be swollen and pained. He knew you suffered.

Yet, it was a sacrifice you were willing to do to see your children healthy.

Rosie had been tugging softly at the now sensitive flesh, her tiny hand bawled ontop of your breast, securing it in place. Your eyes would narrow in pained waves as she interrupted her feeding to sleepily chew on your nipple.

"Don't play with your food, Mi amor."

A little joke that instantly granted you a powerful chomp from her. Tears flooded your eyes immediately as a yelp came out your lips, startling Rosie that bursted into tears.

You heard Miguel's hurried steps rushing to your side and his eyes widened upon seeing you crying while trying to carefully pull Rosie out.

"Hey, hey, it's ok. Let me help"

Alarmed he managed to detach Rosie from you, and his eyes and yours could only widen as soon as your eyes fell on your nipple. Leakin not only with milk, but a faint pink-ish and red hue in it.

Her teething had made her uncomfortable and she wanted to breastfeed almost all day. But this particular bite had been painful enough to make you cry.

"-Salaverga" (Holy shit)

Miguel mumbled while looking into Rosita's mouth. Peeking from her gums, there were two pointy and tiny fangs.

"You ok?"

He looked back at you as you hissed and nursed your injured nipple while wiping the couple of tears that had escaped.

"Y-Yeah... I'm sorry I startled her."

His silence had made you curious as he examined with all the gentleness in the world, Rosie's gums.

A huff of your mouth blew away some strands off as you approached.

"Miguel, I'm not doing this again."

"No no, mi amor. Look. She... Rosita has-"

You gasped, a bit audibly and he tensed.

His little flower had gotten a part of him that brought him so many bad memories, and now they had hurted you.

"Hey, it's ok. Maybe it's time for her to be switched to the bottle."

Your caring hand caressed his shoulder, he melted at the touch and sighed.

"I'll... I'll come up with something."

"Miguel?"

You smooched his cheek and all the worries slumped off his frame.

"I love her, ok? Besides, Gabi once bit me like that. You did too, remember?"

Your soft elbows earned a little chuckle from him.

"Just means we gotta be careful. She's a chomper."

"Will let her bite my fingers then."

His little girl had calmed and clung to him, a little disgruntled by the itch inside her mouth.

"No wonder why she was so fussy."

Miguel rubbed Rosie's back in slow circles, soothing her and putting her to sleep.

"How's the nipple?"

"She punctured it with one of her tiny fangs. I'll be fine."

"Switch her to the bottle. We can't have her injure you again."

A soft whine came from his baby.

"I'll see what I can do, ok?"

Nodding, you went to the bathroom to take a better look at the small injury. He watched his baby, deep asleep on his arms, he then approached her crib and put her inside.

"Only I can play with my food, Mi niña.";

His large fingers massaged her scalp gently before tucking her in her lovingly pink blanket.

"Goodnight mi corazón"

#talking with t✨#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#miguel o'hara fluff #spiderman 2099 x you #rosie o'hara #gabi o'hara #benjamin o'hara #mama o'hara

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princessxt · 3 months ago

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Hi! Could you do an imagine where dean and sam have a younger sister and she has a nightmare and ends up sleeping between her brothers?

omg, sorry for the delay, I really was lacking creativity!!

You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!

(Please don't be shy to ask, I'm very happy when I have a request to write)

You can see the list of who I write about here

"The Monster Is Gone"

Pairing(s): Dean/Sam Winchester x Sister Reader

Gender: Angst, fluffy

Warnings: Nightmares, monsters, lots of blood and disturbing writing for more sensitive readers

——————♥︎♥︎——————

My childhood memories were never clear, only blurry images and meaningless phrases wandered through my mind when I tried hard to remember.

A part of me thanks my brain for not allowing me to remember, since I knew the images would be too disturbing for a budding teenager, but when Dad went hunting, disappeared and I had to be under the care of my older brothers during the hunts, everything changed.

I still remember when I had the first memory, it was after a hunt where a student came back from the dead seeking revenge. We were in the car, Dean was driving, and Sam was by his side, in silence while I was in the back seat, still processing the information of the case when the memory came. A blonde woman in pajamas ran through the hallways of a house with a child in her arms, who I soon realized was me.

Over the next few days, I began to dream about it, and as the dreams went on, the images became clearer. One day I realized it was nighttime, and the girl carrying me was wearing red pajamas. Two days later, I realized that the pajamas weren't red, they were white, but they were stained with blood. It was on that day that I started to avoid sleeping as much as possible, afraid of finding out whose blood was on her clothes.

That was 4 months ago, and during that time, each day that passed I saw a little more of that night, and now I knew that the woman was my mother, and the blood on her clothes was my father's, but the worst part was knowing that there was something following me and my mother.

I never told my brothers about this, I know they would be worried, and we have too many things to worry about, like ghosts and demons, and I didn't want to take their minds off work.

We were coming back from a hunt, Dean was driving, Sam was in the passenger seat sleeping, and I was in the back seat, trying my best to avoid falling asleep, but the book I had in my hands to keep me awake wasn't working, and little by little, I rested my head against the window, and fell asleep.

And there I was, crying in my mother's lap while she held me against her chest, with her body against the door, the thing that was chasing us walked calmly through the hallways, and slowly reached behind the door where we were. He knocked once. My mother put her hand over her mouth to keep from making noise. He knocked a second time. I could feel my mother's hands shaking. The third knock was so loud that my mother was pushed from the door, detaching me from her body. When we looked back, he was there.

He was tall, had no face, just a blood-stained mouth and sharp teeth. His fingers were long, and his nails were also stained with blood, just like the black suit he was wearing.

My mother, in an attempt to protect me, pushed me against the wall and covered me with her body, making a human shield. I could feel her tears wetting my pink pajamas as I heard her scream.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, PLEASE! SHE'S JUST A CHILD"

In response, he let out a frightening laugh. In a few seconds, he pulled my mother and threw her to the floor, while she tried to fight, but the thing was strong and held her without effort. The next scene was the worst.

He opened his mouth, showing his huge teeth and then immediately struck her neck, making blood gush all over the room.

I watched that scene, cowering and scared in the corner of the room while I screamed, begging him to let my mother go, but that must have made him feel even hungrier for her, since he raised his long arm and struck her belly, cutting her skin with his sharp nails.

At that moment, I looked at my mother, who was staring at me with her lifeless eyes, wet with tears of pain.

"Y/N! Y/N, wake up!" I heard a voice call out

"Wake up! You need to wake up!" Again, and this time, louder.

At that moment I woke up. Sweaty, with irregular breathing and a dry throat. I looked ahead and saw Dean and Sam looking at me. We were stopped on a dark road.

"Is everything okay?" Dean asks, meanwhile, Sam opens the car door and gets out, opening the back one and getting in, sitting next to me.

"Okay, sure." I answer nervously, trying to compose myself.

"It didn't seem okay while you were screaming," Sam says, handing me a bottle of water, which I gladly accept.

"It was just a dream, I'm fine." I try to convince them, but by their faces, it hadn't worked.

"If it was just a dream, I'm even afraid to know your nightmares," Dean says and starts driving again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam whispers in my ear, and I try to hold back the tears, while I just nod my head in agreement.

"There's a motel a few minutes from here, we'll spend the night there," Dean says and continues down the road.

It doesn't take long until we arrive at the motel. It was a classic roadside motel, but it was enough.

Dean and Sam get a single room for the two of them, and one for me.

I didn't plan on sleeping that night, so when the boys went to their rooms, I grabbed some snacks from a vending machine and went to my room, turning on the TV to a channel that was showing a series, with the intention of distracting myself from the memories.

I manage not to think about my dreams for 2 or 3 hours, but at one point, sleep begins to set in, and little by little my eyes close, but I always realize that I am about to fall asleep, and I wake up with a jolt. I turn off the television and go to the bathroom.

I take off the clothes I was wearing and get in the shower. The hot water hits the tense muscles in my shoulders and relaxes them in a few seconds. I close my eyes and throw my head back, wetting my hair and face. I massage my scalp with the intention of relaxing, but I quickly tense up when I feel a sudden cold, despite the hot water.

I step out of the shower and dry my eyes with my hands, and when I look at the curtain, I can see the shadow of something behind it. Something very similar to the Being from my memories.

With my heart racing and my breathing irregular, I open the curtain in a quick movement, but relax when I find nothing on the other side.

I turn off the shower, still confused and scared by what happened before, and put on some warm pajamas.

I think about lying back down on the bed and watching the series again, but I look at the bedside table and see the spare key to my brothers' room that Sam gave me in case of an emergency.

Without thinking much, I grab the key and go to the next room, unlocking it slowly, not wanting to alarm the boys.

I open the door and close it behind me, when I turn around, I see Sam, still awake, sitting on the couch that was in the room with a book in his hand.

"Hi, did something happen?" He says quietly and puts the book aside, coming to me.

"I'm scared." My eyes fill with tears and I hug him. I feel his big arms holding me tightly, bringing me closer to his chest.

"It's okay, little one. I'm here." He kisses the top of my head as I sob against his soft shirt.

"Come, lie down with us." He pulls away and goes to the bed.

"Dean, go over there." He pokes Dean's shoulder, making him wake up half-dazed and ready to curse his brother, but stops when he sees me crying next to the bed.

Dean pulls away and I lay down next to him, Sam laying down next to me, making me be between the two of them.

"You're safe with us," Dean whispers, going back to sleep.

"You don't have to tell me what you're afraid of, but know that I'm here for you when you're ready to tell me," Sam whispers behind me.

"I'm having dreams. Actually, they're not dreams, they're memories from my childhood, before Dad adopted me. In these memories, a monster or whatever it was killed my father and mother, right in front of me."

"You don't have to be afraid. Dad told us about this story. He came when the monster was on top of your mother and killed it before it had a chance to hurt you. Sleep, and don't worry about your dreams, the monster is gone, it's dead, and your brothers are here to protect you from anything."

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fluorynn · 8 months ago

Text

✮⋆˙ 🩻 — 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐥. 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

✮⋆˙ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : lo’ak 〤 omaticayan!reader

✮⋆˙ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : in which 4 years have passed after the incident. Change was normal to occur, but so was loss and grievance within that change. Change was something that had occurred within the youngest Sully boy when the RDA returned, when he had to flee from home and leave you behind, when the incident happened. When the Sullys returned after two years, Lo’ak instantly seeked for you, yet you’ve noticed he had changed both for the better and worse, and sometimes, most days, it had become for the worst. You’d given him many warnings throughout the year, as both of you have now reached adulthood and have committed to a relationship that at first begun with the constant lovesickness for one another, never ending touches, stolen kisses, but that was when you were mere teenagers, and as time went by, as change and grief and war came upon you, your relationship took a shift. Harsher he became, more reckless, impulsive, ignorant, inconsiderate, yet he promised he’d change for you. After every act and word, he promised to search within himself, within the past to try and find the Lo’ak he once was, the proper mate you deserved soon, the Lo’ak who you adored with your entire soul. Yet if you were to be sincere, you knew that after all these major events that happened to Lo’ak and after the months of not seeing him, he would not be the same, especially after the loss of Neteyam. You wanted to hang onto the sliver of hope, of sanity for yourself, because Lo’ak had not been the only one to have lost something, someone, yet it seemed that everyone always excused him for his behavior, nobody cared, especially Lo’ak. He was constantly out flying, ‘on patrol’, never returning to the hideout the Omaticaya People still had to endure, and his excuses only became more and more unreasonable. His father said the boy’s just under a lot of pressure, Kiri said he’d come around, but Neytiri did not; while she too grief, she too experienced major changes, it did not give her son the excuse to treat you with such heartless behavior. You loved Lo’ak, and you loved him ultimately and beyond compare. You loved him too much however, to the point where it blinded you from seeing the harsh reality that this indeed was not your Lo’ak anymore. The strong substance your people had, he somehow always found a way to consume it, practically reek of it without his family knowing — and you didn’t dare ‘rat’ him out. He wasn’t yours anymore, and every ounce of pain, of grief, of sadness you felt for him soon disintegrated. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, he was supposed to be the one bound to be your mate when the time came. But now, it seemed that he wasn’t suitable for you, and while 14 year old you promised his 14 year old self to never leave, you realized now why promises wound up empty. Everyone reaches a breaking point, and you are now finally acting upon it.

✮⋆˙ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 : aged up!lo’ak, ANGST, 18+, thigh riding, fingering, grinding, mild kuru play?, overstimulation, soft!lo’ak, teasing, drinking/alcoholism — lo’ak’s insecure, stubborn, harsh and grieving still but masks it a bit well, reader is slightly sensitive, fed up w him, gives in to one more chance w him tho — italics in dialogue signifies they’re speaking Na’vi!

✮⋆˙ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : pretty long, lol

✮⋆˙ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : @bambithewriter @lilghostiequinni @pandoraslxna @avatarloverfrfr @strongheartneteyam @talanyra

✮⋆˙ author’s note : Just in my feelings rn, LMAO. Neteyam series prologue will be posted soon ( hopefully….I just want to make sure it’s good and there’s enough but not too much detail to give away what may happen in future chapters — it’s one of those things where I’ve written the following chapters just not the one I should have actually put time in😭 —) but just thought I’d drop this — Lo’ak lovers, rise up! I hope you like it! Please don’t hesitate to comment, reblogs are appreciated! <33

“Good. You are up here.” You are met with his back facing you mere feet away, the unkempt pattern of his stripes and the tense rise of his shoulders is more than enough for you to know it is him, especially when knowing that this spot is the single one reserved for him. Lo'ak Sully was left in a state of utter bewilderment, a feeling he thought he had long surpassed. Over the years, he had honed and heightened each of his senses to such an extent that no ordinary being could startle him anymore. However, you were no ordinary being, and that was precisely what captivated him. Your ability to always bewilder and astonish him in unexpected ways kept him constantly alert and intrigued.

He gave a subtle glance to the object in his hold — a minor wooden cup filled to the brim with an alcoholic beverage — naer — one the Na’vi can smell before even spotting it for its scent is strong, vigor. At this point, there is no trying to hide or deny it from you. Even if he did try to throw it off the large branches he sat upon, the scent would be there, reeking around and on him. He had given you the vacant promise to back away from it, or very least try to yet make no effort in doing so. This drink that, while it tips one over for a bit of time, it also deprived feelings you could no longer do. Whatever had happened in his life, each burning drop down his throat and to his mind managed to fix for a minimum amount of time. Of course Lo’ak would not give this up — the opportunity to not feel anything to the bone.

“Your father said you did not show up for your training.” Your tone of voice was deficient of its common disappointment and despair, simply uttering as if you didn’t spare a care for it anymore.

“My father should learn to mind his own business and worry more about leading his People and fixing the damage done from the Sky People.” Lo’ak finally spoke, voice curt and Na’vi language gaining a thickness as he heard your subtle footsteps against branches. “I am not a child anymore.”

“You are right. You are not. But he is still your father, he worries for you. So does your mother.” You reminded him as if it were not known, reaching your spot next to his sitting frame only to see what you have already suspected in his hold, taking in his physical state.

“Yeah well, he shouldn’t. He has no reason to, and neither does she.” His quip made your lips squirm down but said nothing as you observed the drink in his hand, the way his ear flitted from his own words, from your words in adding onto that his mother worries. A quirk settled between your browline but held your tongue for you did not want to start some meaningless quarrel. But Lo’ak could feel the distaste radiating from you, how you’re fighting the urge to scold him for his incapability to uphold his fair share of promises. What he doesn’t understand is why have you not done so?

“You look very pretty. Sevin ( pretty ).” He softly stated.

A small smile was all to be offered — one filled with slight remorse. His legs had been dangling down the edge of the thick glowing lodge, and you pondered on doing the same as you have always done since you were children; swinging them above the small lake of water at the same pace he would, teasing him with a light nudge of your foot. But this time was different. Instead, you settle beside him, knees bent beneath you and slightly tilted your body towards him. Lo’ak’s blazing irises scrutinized you the way he typically does, recognizing the strain your shoulders formed, as if you were on edge because of him. So, he took one more small swig of the liquid before his face started inclining forward to plant a light kiss on your lips. One that was fleeting – everything tied or related to Lo’ak was always fleeting.

Lo’ak’s lips very often suffused your mind from thought, so incongruous from right and wrong.

One moment Lo’ak offered his physical affections and pretty words.

The next, not even a split moment, he was the cause of your suffering stars.

You now pondered where exactly this little act would land the both of you in.

You were the first to retract away from Lo’ak, not wanting to fall into his patterned act. The kind of act of loving Lo’ak too destructively that overflowed everything with a single touch, and tug you back into him.

“What iss wrong?” He inquired, dark brows quirking.

Your coils lightly sway at the head shake given, yet he knew before you could have a chance to verbally utter the lie. “Lying is not a good look for you.”

“I am not lying.” You were quick to snip out before you could contain your tone, palms pressing into your thighs that indicated the falseness of your words.

“Right.” His eyes rolled and bit, “There’s something you would like to say?”

You can’t help but blink a few times. This was an opening, to say what was in your chest. “Srane ( yes ).”

A hum of boredom rang through the air. “You could have just said that then. No need to take the hard way around.” His golden eyes were drawn to the liquid in his hold, watching its faint glow swirl with the light flick of his wrist, and you wondered just how far gone was he. Normally, Lo’ak would have some sort of facade going on, one that’s filled with his now dry jokes and teasing smiles despite the fact that the both of you knew it was just a show. Yet now, he was unfazed by your presence as he brought the cup to his lips, throat bobbing with the largest swings he took.

Perhaps if you were standing, you might’ve tipped over and fallen into the lake. He simply saw it written in bold letters right across your face. “I am not here to fight with you.” You quietly started.

“Then don’t.”

An exhale flared your cat-like nose at his crossed tone. “Okay, I will not but I am going to need you to drop whatever tone it is you are trying to achieve with me, Suli.” Lo’ak, despite the abrupt changes spiking in him, was still your Lo’ak, so when he heard your warning, his ears pinned down by the sides of his head and eyes strayed to the ground below as an act of regret. This gave you some sliver of hope.

Not necessarily did you want Lo’ak to be unstable or uncertain with himself, it made you quite content that he has grown into his fierceness. What was bothersome to you were his drastic changes, and it seemed what once went as two souls that twined perfectly for one another was now misplaced — your presence within his life was not necessary any longer. The intoxication he was constantly washed in came with a smell too strong for your liking, too nauseating, too overwhelming for your senses. Tears swelled up in your eyes, yet you contained them. “I had thought you were going to quit.”

“If we are speaking truthfully, I told you I would try.” He corrected, smug voice paired with a stupid smirk.

“Hm, and have you?” You retorted and his brows hitched beneath his two thin cascades of braids. “Have you tried to quit?”

“And you have got proof that I haven’t?” You despised this, despised the person he’d become, despise that he seemed to knew precisely what he was doing and didn’t give two fucks about it.

“Let us see — there is Kiri, there is Spider, oh there is even Tuk who tells me this!” Your voice carried a feign sweetness and surprise, watching how his brows crashed together with your sneered words. “This is the brother you wish for them to see? This is the person you want your future People to see, Lo’ak? Their possible future leader, the Tippling Olo’eyktan?”

“And what the hell is it to you, huh? We already know I am not suited to be Leader.” His spiking temper was one to shut you up, but you did not fail to notice the light lash his tail made. “You are not my mother, you are not Tsahik, and you are certainly not my mate. I do not need you worrying over me. And I do not need your constant annoying questions.” Your body shuddered, more so because of the harshness of his tone rather than the biting air. Your knees dug into the branch’s crippled surface, fingers winding into fists as your eyes quickly averted from him. Eywa was witness to the sensitivity you had gain over the years, the years Lo’ak happened to be in.

“It is not common for some warm body to ask this much from their future Olo’eyktan either.”

Lo’ak’s added on words striked you with force, causing you to physically and instinctively recoil from the sharp sting of it. The deep slice within your heart, cleanly tearing into two parts. Perhaps in some pieces, some hindsight, it could have been described as that if you did not add onto the fact that the both of you grew up together, the fact that he did not have the simplicity of courage to call you by the true title he once proudly uttered you as; his. His bound-to-be mate, his love.

“A warm body? That is all I am to you?” You questioned, and Lo’ak — rethinking whether his mistake was to tell you the definition of those words in human terms or perhaps the true, more common mistake he noticed that was clearly etched in his features — gained regret behind those lax-colored eyes of his. But it was masked, tightly trapped beneath this filthy portrayal of pride, egotistical, brash and reckless man. Not even a man, a boy.

“Lo’ak!”

Instead of giving you a proper answer, he threw you a side glance, one filled with provocation. The scoff emerging from your throat was inevitable, and you nodded. If this was how he wished to act, then fine. It will make the forthcoming situation much easier for you then. The only way to get through with this was if you treat him as if he was nothing to you. “We must speak.”

Push through the heartache, the pain, the way it tore you apart. You must start to truly see him for who he was in this present moment.

And what you saw was not your Lo’ak.

Lo’ak was listening, you could tell by how his ears slightly flitted up, but he said nothing. Simply awaiting for you to proceed as he took another sip.

“I…” You felt the affliction that tried clawing its way up your throat, your eyes fixating on the ground and you stayed quiet for a while.

“Just spill it already.”

“I have come to say goodbye, Lo’ak.” His slamming shock is beyond thrilling. You had been seeking for some, any type of sign that would prove Lo’ak’s care for you — and perhaps this was the answer; the high perch of his ears, the broadening of his eyes, the hitched breath. Nonetheless, it was too late. He had created his situation, and now he would have to accept the consequences.

“What do you mean g-goodbye?” He stammered, and the cup was now abandoned and falling to the ground that was far below the both of you.

“Ah, so now you can speak!”

“Enough,” he inhaled deeply. “And answer the question.” The audacity this skxawng had. You are firmer with your words “Srane. Goodbye, Lo’ak.”

“And where exactly are you going? And when exactly were you going to tell me?” He spat out in distaste and disapproval, body fully turning towards you.

“The Tipani Clan.” You responded with an edge of sass. “I am telling you right now, aren’t I?”

His response was immediate, loud and he shook his head despite your answer was to be expected, knowing that one of your deceased parents descended from there. “The Tipani Clan? What about—” He halted his sentence from speaking of himself, of how if you left, you would be tearing away a part of him and taking it with you. But fear of vulnerability halted him from doing so, so instead he dodged it. “What about your duties here? I thought you promised to be here for your People in case the Sky People returned. To help rebuild.”

“Lo’ak, I am telling you that I am leaving and all you care about speaking is duty? Are you serious?” He instead looked away from you, too stubborn to answer, so you said his name again. He ignored you.

“Lo’ak, fucking look at me.” It was the rarity of hearing you speak English and the vulgar word thrown in the mix that caught Lo’ak’s attention, gold orbs flickering towards you in an instant and you immediately notice the diversity of emotion pooling them.

“So all that matters to you, is my duty to the Omaticaya? For me to not be here as a fixer upper for them? You only care about that being broken instead of this? Is that the only thing that matters in that head of yours?”

No. The response was, should have been a fierce no. You were constantly, always in Lo’ak’s head. He yearned for you extravagantly, and besides staying alive for the sake of his family, you were one of the few things he could find himself caring for. There would be many cold and curt swears to never trust, to never care or love after losing someone who not only qualified as a good mate, but a loving one, is what Lo’ak thought, he knew it. If you left him — when you left him, he would be done with it, with the twinge of good, of hope. He would be completely shut off from ever seeking a mate to be bonded with under Eywa’s will, he would not care of continuing the legacy of his name despite him now being the only son. His heart, the heart you once saw as fearless and strong, would be guarded by much thicker, massive walls, and that small space left would only become constricted by the waves of his tears. While you were everything to him, you were not sufficient enough to spare him the grief. At least not alone.

While he has grown, while he has sculpted his abilities and became nearly as mighty as his big brother, under all that was still a broken, hurt boy filled with guilt. He could not allow himself to get rid of that part of himself. He could not shed enough tears to move past everything that happened, that he had seen and lost.

Lo’ak loved you, he is deeply in love with you. And perhaps another thing that has changed was that he could not depend everything on you. No one should carry the responsibility of one’s whole happiness. There is no fairness in that.

So instead he found need in other things, distractions despite it being selfish. He needed to fly because it could get him away from the ground and connect to the closest thing that felt like Neteyam, he needed to drown himself in that alcohol the Na’vi made because it drowned away all the pain and misery his family went through, the burden to try and add up to something, someone he will never be able to fill. But while he was engulfed himself in all that, he could pretend that his family was not broken. That it was the same, once happy family it once was 5 years ago. The one that still had Neteyam’s presence, the one that still had a father rather than a commanding leader. In this minor haven of numbness, he could still pretend that those once fond memories were fresh, remembered the way they were supposed to be reminisced. He could not just let it go.

Meanwhile, Lo’ak’s silence was tearing you apart, fragmenting your heart into pieces. But now you knew, you saw the truth. You could not keep a desperate grasp around old words and acts anymore, for now they were faint. Empty. Pointless gifts of a said courting that was going nowhere. Loving phrases and charming grins he more than knew could accomplish in capturing your heart.

But now it was clear as day that it meant nothing to Lo’ak. You meant nothing to Lo’ak. He did not love you as much as you loved him.

His throat cleared, and thickly spoke in English. “Your place is here, Y/N.” His eyes refused to meet yours, jaw narrowed enough to demonstrate he was clearly upset, though you’ are not certain why.

“It was.” The correction you gave his words finally made everything click. His gaze lingered on the lake’s neon glow before lifting to look at you, trying to catch your own. The pretty decorated braids that framed his face moved with the motion of his head slanting to the side. He repeated your word, squinting before shaking his head and more so whispering to himself, “You’re leaving.”

Sharply exhaling, you finally uttered, “I am also here to end things between us, Lo’ak.”

Again, he was bewildered, and the cut breath he released made it known. Eyes darted over each feature upon your face, as if trying to commit it all into his memory, panic slowly seeping within him. “Can … I can say something, right?” His tone still carried its infamous jeer, but you suppose that was the last you deserved. You were the first to engage in this conversation. When you grant him the permission to speak, he wasted no second in taking advantage of it.

“W-where’s this coming from?”

You’re more than certain more inquiries will follow, and one or two questions will satisfy his little interrogation.

“What’s the motive behind all this, huh? How long you’ve been planning this, to leave me?” Lo’ak’s voice was one that never faltered nowadays — he, much like his father, was a fierce speaker. You knew that Lo’ak did not like to be kept in the unknown, in hiding. But now his voice was rather meek. His once honed gaze turned rounder, emphasizing that he may cry. What you despised most in this moment, was that it unphased you. Before this, all the trouble and conflict spiking between you and your Lo’ak, his tears were your least favorite thing in this entire existence. Out of everyone, you once believed Lo’ak was the least of them all to deserve the brim of tears. That he deserved happiness. The sight of them always managed to tear you bit by bit with every fallen droplet, and now it hardly mattered. While you do still very much believe that he indeed deserved happiness, you have reached your limit. You have devastatingly accepted that you could not restore that happiness in Lo’ak.

“Few weeks. A month maybe.” You answered faintly. You use the best of your abilities to keep a firm composure. It would be miserable to cry, especially right then and there. Lo’ak stumbled through his repetition of your answer, dubiety twisting your features, mind and heart. You cannot seem to comprehend the sudden shift of his act. The authentic perplex and strain to recall what went wrong as if he never saw this coming from you.

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry, Y/N—” His long arms extended, touch reaching to collide with you, yet he reluctantly retracted back as if he had been scorched by some blazing flame of a barrier around you. He repeated his apology, scrambling to try and find whatever pieces he has broken and bring them back together while trying with all his strength to not lose his damn mind. “Lemme fix this — y-you have to let me fix this, okay?”

His voice is desperate, pleading, and it was as if he is speaking without wanting to hear reason. Lo’ak may not be known for his smartness, but he was clever with certain things. To you, Lo’ak was everything. But even so, that usual thick headed mind of his was unable to get himself out of this one.

“Y/N, we can — it’s fixable.” His head was repeatedly bobbing up and down, and it told you that perhaps you have brought him out of his drunken state. Brought him back to Pandora, at least for a split moment, you thought.

“I think it is too late now, ma Lo’ak.” His eyes shuttered and he let out a quivered exhale.

“Baby, don’t say that, please—” He reached for you again, this time pushing through the fear and on with it. He could not help the slightness of grimace upon him when his hands cut into your self-obtained space, and it was then that he realized why that burn had been a great protection for you.

Anxious, panic-stricken he was, digits winding around the bareness of your hips and wastes no second in tugging you upon his lap. “Please…just give me one more chance a-and let me fix this, yeah? Baby?”

The expanse of his palms quivered when they lifted to your cheeks, your own gripping the taut muscles of his shoulder blades to maintain your balance, to keep yourself steady from the plead within his green-speckled hues. The air surrounding Lo’ak reeked of that forsaken alcohol, entangled through his braids, the essence of his blue flesh, his accessories.

You take him in; the faint violet flushed beneath the sockets of his eyes, the drain that highly beseeched at you with every syllable tumbling from his cloying lips. “I’m….fuck.” His breathing was escalating; more turbulent, almost hysterical as he tried retaining every part of you inside of himself.

Without your willingness, you are gently moved, yet still, your form remained unyielding.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, and you know that.” His softly hushed words are right. You knew he meant them. While Lo’ak’s emotional avoidance over the last few years had been quite a lot, it did not make him exceedingly insensitive. He was full of many pretty words, but never once did he utter abundant words into existence without purpose. But what you only wished for was that he’d been able to say them sooner. Could have been swarmed with the realization and recognition of you before you had made it to the edge of the cliff above the depths. All that was left for you to do in order to escape was to take the act in plummeting. To end things with Lo’ak, to start anew with your own life.

It is unattainable, you arere more than convinced that this is the end of the path for the both of you. Even with that said forged in your mind, you nodded still. Purposeless it was to see him in this state of franticity and fear of the prospect of losing you burdening your heart. You may feel repentant later on, but you are to leave once this is finished, once this is over with and you would never return to the Omaticaya. Lo’ak was to be an experience of your past. He would hate you then, hate you for an eternity for what you were to do, but you knew he would be okay. What he needed was his family. To fix those cracks, to patch those injuries. To improve himself, Lo’ak must and will find a way to find his true self beneath all those layers of resentment and suffering.

That was all that ceased to matter.

“I can fix this? You’ll let me?” You nodded once more, but he did the opposite in an act of disapproval. “Nah, I need to hear it. Let me hear you.” His voice was glazed with true, raw pain, something you haven’t heard from him in such a long time. “Please, Y/N…”

“You can fix this, ma Lo’ak.”

“Y-you promise me that?” He questioned, and for a moment you faltered. It’d be much more deceiving for him to know you were lying. So you do not, and instead you let the tips of your four fingers stray to the nape of his neck and pull him into a kiss. And in this moment, you knew that you had never loved with such depth, such fervor with every fiber in your being.

You were aware that once you vanished from here, the fractures etched in your heart would scorch, ablaze to the point where you would feel every flicker and pain. With that being said, you poured it all into this one kiss, one that seized every ounce of respiration from his lungs. Vehementing it was. Vehementing you are, of course. His mind is nebulous; hazy, too fucked over — but you are here. In amidst the turmoil of an inner war, you. He loves you profoundly, and he knows you well. Well enough to know what the next day would bring. He knew why you were contributing to this, why you were granting him the belief that his pathetic attempt of resolution would be enough.

You love Lo’ak as well.

The thought of facing a day without your presence gracing his life churns his chest with a crushing sense of loss, the palpitating organ within bending and compressing as if some being had reached and tried bending it to their own taunting will. He must give you everything, he has to give you everything, risk it all, and perhaps it would be sufficient. This time it is Lo’ak who retreated from you, dark lashes fluttering against the warmth of your cheek while his eyes perused over your face just one more time.

“You know that no matter where you go, you’ll always be mine.” His words are not a question, more so a statement of persistence and certainty the both of you felt and knew deep within your bones.

“You do understand, yeah?” You could hardly form a verbal response, though you do not give him the opportunity to bask in his little glory, and instead your hands, the ones currently on his shoulders, slide to the beaded necklaces encasing his toned neck, fingers tangling through them. “If you are going to do something, get on with it.”

Lo’ak cannot help the soft smirk hoisting his cheek at your clipped tone and grumbles, “Impatient much?” Candidly speaking, this was perhaps the closest he was to being himself. That brilliant smile you haven’t seen in so long resisting the urge to be the prime focus of attention. A pity, really, for you.

“You still trust me?” He notices your indecisiveness. He does not give you time to respond for he soon adds on, “Like this?” and that almost immediately changes the answer. The adapted pads of his fingers graze down the dip of your neck and to the elegant line of your collarbone, peering down your figure. “Do you trust me enough to have you like this?”

Your chin slightly dips bashfully as you nod. His brows draw together and hisses in a breath. “I wanna hear you say it then. Make this easier for the both of us.” Your delicate beaded chest piece subtly heaves from the ascent your chest makes, and he could not help but laugh, eyes crescent-shaping with the sound, at your irritated voice.

“I trust you, Lo’ak.”

“Good.” he mutters softly beneath his breath while letting his hands fall and secure themselves to your hips.

Yes, good, you repeat the single word in your own mind.

“You’d give yourself to me right here, right now?” He question, and you stutter at this. It was not the upmost ideal thing, for this spot practically belonged to you and Lo’ak was perhaps the most reserved place within the Forest since you were children. But it was the Forest, and you never knew who from the People could be wandering around. The thought of someone stumbling upon you and the Olo’eyktan’s son out in the open petrified you.

Though it seemed your pussy thought otherwise and did not mind one bit of this idea.

“S-srane ( yes ).” Firm is your word, and it pleases Lo’ak. Muscle memory it became when his palms create a path upwards from your hips. Palms that hold such tenderness as they splay up your stomach, blunt nails beginning to faintly engrave themselves into the azure flesh of your waist, soon following your midsection to endearingly trace over the pretty stripes decorated there.

The strokes he causes make you squirm in his lap, body curling slightly to the side and your nose twitches cutely. “Lo’ak, enough—” your plea goes ignored once more by him.

“Do y’know how pretty you are?” Lo’ak’s words cause your heart to skip a rather large beat. Curse his idiotic mouth, curse him. Curse his abilities to have you melt with a single breath of his lungs.

“Our People always speak about the Great Mother’s beauties. Saying how she spent a great deal on Pandora,” You didn’t hesitate to listen, even despite the light acts created from his touch that have your abdomen twitching.

“But gosh, I think you’ve bested her.” He exhales almost breathlessly, as if the weight of his words are too grand and exquisite from being spoken to existence, to you. You see nothing but sincerity in his face, blinking rapidly when he taps your hip and utters, “Take it off now.”

His demand left no inch of a room for a disagreement, so without further hesitation, you hitch yourself a bit up while wobbly fingers perch down and into the weaves of your tewng, slipping the garment off. You more than know that when he meant to take it off, he meant to discard everything — such as your little chest piece. But almost as if it were a challenge, you do not. This draws a chuckle out of Lo’ak and you roll your eyes despite settling back down on his thigh.

His mouth moving hot against yours, and for a second your entire world stills, the remaining fragments of your heart plummeted, the wild fluttering as the single thing inside of you capable of sustaining life. Your ache, your beautiful, throbbing, lifelong ache dwindles for a moment as Lo’ak’s mouth meshes with yours. He kisses you fiercely, fingers brushing the lower swell of your breast, breathing existence back into your being, and it is then that you moaned lowly for him.

When he rips his mouth away from your own, it is when his fingers found their way down the dips of your stomach, outlining the lower section, soon curling around the upper muscle of your thighs to part them just a bit more, dragging two deftly fingers through the growing mess between.

“Even when that pretty head of yours wanna hate me, this body can’t resist me, hm?” He retracts his hand as he speaks, long enough to glide those two fingers between his lips, humming contently around them before pulling them out. They were profusely coated with his spit, making it such an effortless task to increase the mess worse. Its pads nudge back and forth between your slit, occasionally granting nurturing circles to your nub. Your mind is becoming warped within the lust, back to clutching onto his shoulders for steadiness.

Your nails puncture the muscles there with the longing to grind against something, anything. “You’re so damn wet, mamas.” The foreign nickname has force in tearing out a sharp gasp from your throat, and he huffs out a chuckle while absorbing all the moist sensation.

“ ‘m gonna have you all fucked up on my fingers, then some more with my dick, how does that sound?” The sensation of his dark plaits graze your cheek, lips adding on when they brush your flickering ear. “You want that, Y/N/N/?”

You could not do anything more than whine, allowing your hips to wind forward in hence to catch every languid swipe of his slim fingers against you. Your body quaking, head pummeling as you paddle near the pleasure.

Pleasure which you more than know was not healthy. It is as if adding a single aid to a severe wound. The following day, you will detest yourself to the core for giving into this thrilling temptation; the thrusts he gives your tightened cunt, the kisses shared between your swollen mouths, the caresses given to your skin, all of this would create much more difficulty for you to move on.

Lo’ak’s fingers waste no time in swatting against your swollen clit, pads of each digit rubbing gingerly over. Sensitive it is, every swipe causing your entire body to stutter.

You could feel more arousal oozing out of your cunt, adhering to Lo’ak’s constricting thigh. His flesh will be tainted with your slick, his dangling braids and pretty coils will be ruined with every slight tug given by the time you were done. Though he cannot not bring himself to care about it, he cannot let you go at this moment, he cannot not ever bring himself to do it.

The momentum of his overworked digits is lethal, you will be culminating in a matter or seconds. The hand currently entangled within Lo’ak’s hair suddenly disappear to slide down the base of his thick queue, fingers delicately curling around the sensitivity while you begin to subtly gyrate your hips forward, the stimulation becoming much more direct and effective.

Though the act made from your dainty touch causes his jaw to go slack, pupils engulfing the golden pools of his eyes as a soft hiss whispered from his mouth.

"Look at you go, baby…" Tongue peeks out just to glide over his honed incisors before teasingly reaching forward to lightly bite your pouting lower lip, gaze never tearing from yours, and you see it : everything is what you are to him.

The brimming of your orgasm deepen inside the center of your lower belly, spiraling bit by bit. “Hey, no, look at me, mamas.” His tone is low but beseeching, words practically breathing into you, directing you to obey his plea despite the violent desire to let your head slant back if it weren’t for another one of his pleas catching you, voice caressing the tethers of your soul.

“Please look at me, sevin. Lemme see you when you fall apart for me, yeah?” And it is then that you were reminded of your thoughts from earlier.

How fucking perilous Lo’ak’s mouth could be.

“Ma L-Lo’ak—” His name is uttered in a whine, clutch becoming firmer around the single braid of his as you compel yourself to remain in eye contact with the Sully son. He squirms yet does not reprove you and continues his work between your legs despite the building-up ache bulging between his own, three fingers dipping lower to gather more slick before adding it to his pattern against your throbbing clit.

“I-I’m close,” you huff out, and Lo’ak nods deliberately, the subtle movement of his pleading face mesmerizing you. “C’mon, lemme see it happen. Lemme see what I do to you, how good I make you feel, hm?”

"Hmm— L-Lo’ak, I am near, y-you are going to make me cum…" Perhaps you are nearly driven to tears when Lo’ak crane his neck forward again, though this time his lips peck over the pink contours of your scrunched nose first. Sweet, loving kisses falling over each star-like speck across your cheeks, beginning to create a path all over your face.

“You are doing so, so good for me. Always so fucking sweet to me." His breathy muttering ought you to look away abashed, flustered.

"You love the boy you knew, don't you?"

"You are not a boy anymore — y-you are grown, you are to be Olo’eyktan o-one day." You remind him curtly, words tumbling from your lips as you try focusing more towards your pleasure.

"Nah, no." His head shakes, the two braids aligned to each of his cheeks swaying from the motion. "Grown — Grown Lo’ak is very different from boy Lo’ak, isn't he?"

Your heart cannot help but falter at this, a muskiness kissing your waterline, blinding your senses as you stare at him solemnly. "I love every version of you, ma Lo’ak. I just love you."

Agitation suddenly crumbles his pretty features, and brokenly whispers, “Then why are you choosing to leave me?"

You truly do want to answer him despite the way your heart nearly plummets to your stomach, yet it is difficult to. His lips sweetly find their place over your face again, prickling your flesh as if pointed needles.

“L-Lo’ak." He merely hums at the low warning, nuzzling against your flushed cheekbone. "It’s okay, just go ahead mamas. I know."

"Cum for me, you've been so good, sevin. My pretty girl." Your chest heaves overwhelmingly, the tips of your ears flirting with each of the pretty, earnest words he reiterates, swelling the urge for you to sob. "Perfect and pretty. The only girl, my only babygirl."

And perhaps you will sob.

"All you have always done is take care of me, huh? But who takes care of you?" His working hand drags up, and the sudden act caused you to jolt. Lo’ak’s free arm and hand, however, waste no second in coiling around your midsection in order to keep you from moving away.

"Just wanna make it up to you, tìyawn. Just tell me that's what you want from me." He beseeches, nose nuzzling into the line of your trembling jaw.

“Y-yes, that is what I want, ma Lo’ak. Please, please, please. T-Take care of me — make me cum— make it up t-to me, Lo’ak, please." A moan rumbles in the center of your throat for Lo’ak feels it when his lips twist upwards into a wide grin. “Then do it — c’mon, cum for me, baby. Let it out…”

He did not need to instruct it twice for you come in an instant. It washes over with a moan, long and broken, your head seizing forward and into the crevice of said neck and broad shoulder. Damped lips are immediate to latch onto the future Olo’eyktan’s neck, biting, suckling, and softly licking the striped flesh, body quivering as you are thrown over the edge.

Your walls twitch around a vacant place, and Lo’ak kneads your abused nub through the aftershocks as the pearlescent proof of your release pools out of your cunt. "Fuuck, my pretty girl, doing so damn good for me." He croons sweetly, the long length of his lashing tail somehow finding its way to tenderly coil around the thigh clenched by his side.

You faintly feel the swift movements of his hands reaching down to fiddle with his own tewng, yet the dread is too heavy for you to react.

It is only then when you realize that Lo’ak was not stopping his tempting assault that you found the strength to peer hazily down at where your pussy and Lo’ak’s fingers met. He is still playing with you, flexing digits coating themselves in your sweet essence before ramming them right into your much sensitive hole.

He is immediate in starting at a brutal pace, so engrossed in searching for the spot that will have you squirting all over him.

"L-Lo’ak, Lo’ak, no w-wait, please— " Yet he has decided to not listen to your cries. Not even looking at your face, no, his gaze was enthralled with the way his fingers are digging you out, the way you swallow them whole, nearly becoming one with them.

"No, you must take it. You can take it.” He forewarns but your head is shaking in denial, a sob flying out your mouth. “K-Kehe ( no ). I-I can’t, m-ma Lo’ak—”

“But you can, baby. I know you can.” His brows furrow softly together, brushing against your browline as his forehead kisses yours. “And you know how I know that? Hmm?”

Stammers are the only that manage to form. “Because I know you, Y/N. I am the only one who knows you better.” He feeds you the answer he had been seeking for and your chin juts up and down. “Or am I not, mamas?”

“Y-yes, L-Lo’ak, it is you — just you.” A chuckle proudly spews from him. “And who knows this pretty pussy better than me?” Hips jerk forward, whining with a gasp at the harsh deepness of his digits. Your grip on his queue releases, palms scattering out and planting on each side of Lo’ak’s angular face as you keep his attention locked towards you.

“N-no one, ma Lo’ak. N-no one—”

Lo’ak nods firmly, “That’s what I thought, baby. Now, let me treat her the way she deserves to be treated, okay?” His mouth brushes over your lush one, yet didn’t necessarily grant you the yearn of a kiss. Not as he notices the subtle flash of upset striking your face.

“Just one more chance for tonight.” He adds after a pause. “You’ll let me have her for tonight, won’t you, Y/N?”

You whine shamelessly, “Y-yes, o-oh … P-please, Lo’ak—”

“That’s the Y/N I know,” His praise goes by tenderly while the act between your legs is entirely distinct, much more carving, exhilaratingly burning you. “My Y/N, my girl.”

Your pussy is well acquainted with the feel of Lo’ak’s touch, a rather hefty debate between said cock and fingers. Every single adapted ridge, divot, arch. Always, always taking him so well, so eagerly, prettily desperate for Lo’ak.

"You're so wet." He grunts, pupils dilating in awe from the brief yet sufficient enough glance given to the drenching mess. "Need you to tell me how it feels."

“So good, Lo-Lo’ak. You make me feel so, so good." Lo’ak likes you like this, all in a drunken daze, vocals all garbled up.

"You gonna cum, mamas?" You cannot even answer, not as your body actively chases every thrust. "I can feel you squeezing my fingers so good. Jeesh, you're so damn perfect." He rasps lovingly, "Love having you like this…you’re everything to me, you know that?”

The words are meant more to himself, yet you hear him all the same. “L-Lo’ak." you mutter though the tut his tongue makes keep you from proceeding, head shaking. “Shh, don’t say anything. I jus’ want you to cum for me, got it? Flood my shit.”

You feel every curl, every nudge his fingers gives the most sensitive spot within, your insides coiling, rattling all at once to the point where you nearly lose all feel of your lower body, all sense of the way your tail swivels, the way your limbs quiver. “Make a mess all over your Olo’eyktan, hm?”

The hand grasping your hip rises to press against the rising arch of your back, encouraging the pretty dip to take shape while your inner thighs clench around Lo’ak’s palm.

But the continuous push to your back flush you forward, thighs yanking open with the lankiness of his lower abdomen shoving between. The act causes his fingers to retreat from your weeping hole and knead them sloppily upward. The intensity of your subsequent climax comes in high waves when he slumps them back inside, pumping once, twice, three times all in one before he is pulling back to stimulate your pulsating clit.

White spasms of what can be compared to blazing stars overcome your vision, a shriek rippling from your hoarse throat while you drizzle your release all over Lo’ak, the hands once cradling his face dragging down to the length of his neck and jabbing your thumbs into the hollow of his constricting throat. Tears cascade down your glowing, flushed cheeks, a never ending streak assisted by the river flowing from your cunt — an enthralling combination that has Lo’ak feeling ecstatic.

"Mhm, that's it, baby. Just ride that shit out for me…that’s it, there you go." His encouragement has your body feeling dazed and spent as you lean forward to flush yourself against Lo’ak’s dampened chest, ear flickering at the rumbled sound he creates.

"You did so good for me." Lo’ak mutters into your other ear, mouth grazing the point of it. "So, so good." The length of his palm move to cradle the curve of your head as he feel the racketing your body creates, watching the sways your lovely tail creates before it nestles right beside his thigh.

"Your pussy's so perfect, made to take me, made to listen to me, isn’t that right?” You cannot help but to not answer from the embarrassment clutching at you, and instead nuzzle the tip of your nose over a glowing speck on his cobalt striped chest.

"Nga yawne lu oer ( I love you )." This is sincerely declared with a brush of a kiss to your head. "I do, I really, really do." He insists, and he cannot evict the sniffles following that scrunches his nose afterwards. "I am sorry, very sorry for the way I’ve acted."

You are too exhausted to create some sort of movement, but one thing that is for certain is that Lo’ak prefers it this way. It makes the act of speaking, of apologizing much easier for him.

"Damn, I really have been so selfish, haven’t i?” A deep furrow finds its way to your forehead at his self chastising, at the way he is combined, conflicted between uttering this to you or to himself. “You will still leave. You won’t be here anymore. This is really happening, isn’t it?”

Another stiff sound leaves Lo’ak, so meek, so lost before sweetly adding, “I promise I did try. For you, I really tried. F-for them — for my family. To be what they need— what you needed.” A sob strangles in his throat, mind nearly beginning to descend into that fogging darkness. “A-and I know it’s not an excuse, I know it’s been years but after we left, a-after Neteyam—”

Yet the gentle, secure entanglement of your arms pulls Lo’ak from that mindset, and he finds solace within this embrace, keeping him close, letting him feel and know that you are there.

“Q-quiet. Enough — do not do this to yourself.” You stammer out softly, a light kiss meeting his collarbone. “We still have one more chance, ma Lo’ak. One more chance within this night. One more chance to pretend that this is not our future, to pretend that everything is fine, yes? Do not waste it by recounting your regrets, okay?”

Lo’ak’s mind gear this over, and in there, and in his heart, he more than knows that he is never going to be able to bring himself to love with such force as the way he loves you. Yet still, even now he cannot express it in a good, healthy, proper way that you truly deserve. He will find a way to prove it, however. To show, to act, to live by it as if it was the very sole purpose of his life. Lo’ak will find the pieces of himself beneath all this tethered and tainted pain, and bring them together within himself in order to bring himself back to life.

Lo’ak would do it for you. For his family.

So you can learn to love him again.

But he will do it for himself as well inorder for him to learn to love himself again.

"Wipe your tears for right now, okay? I am still here. I am right here in front of you." Lo’ak’s firm arms surround your frame into a hold that is soothing, familiar, full of strength. It blossoms molten warmth within your chest, erupting an arsenal of emotions.

"Whatever you — whatever you wish to give I will take." you end meekly and Lo’ak is certain he has fallen for you all over again. Yes, his climb back to victory will be well worth it. For you to look at him one day, and to once again see him as the boy you loved, the man you will love, the man you admired so profoundly. It makes Lo’ak’s entire heart begin to tremble, along with the curves of his lips.

"Alright then, sevin. Just take a breather and rest for a while, yeah? Our night's just getting started."

︵ ✮⋆˙

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