#with both queue can't miss

[fbiartist]

@humanchewtoy asked: [ refill ] your muse refilling mine’s glass for them .

❥ NON - SEXUAL ACTS OF DOMINANCE .

They were getting more and more comfortable around eachother. She wasn't sure if it was about some sense of friendship or warped trauma bonding, but she wasn't about to question it now as he walked by him in her towel, her hair freshly washed. The leave in conditioner still in her finely coiled curls.

And just as she was reaching for her near empty wine glass, he was refilling it for her. She offered him up a smile, "Thanks. Bathroom's free if you wanna go get cleaned up." There's a little nod in the direction to it.

[fbiartist]

"Does this happen to you...often?" The words were said carefully. Not necessarily worried about his anger, but her own. The thought of someone who was supposed to be family just deciding to do something like this. Even with his immortal nature- especially with his immortal nature. It felt like a way of torturing someone. "You're welcome. I've got my car right outside, I didn't see yours. Do you have your keys on you? Or did you just park somewhere else?"

Or was this one of those fights he had with his brother that ended up having collateral damage in the way of vehicles. Everytime she saw vampires with cars she knew that thing's days were numbered. Either that or they were taken care of obsessively- and she couldn't blame that one cause her car was her baby too.

"You sound like sandpaper and stone." Ziva pulled out a pocket knife and pricked the end of her middle finger, watching the blood well up and then held out her hand to him expectantly. "I want you to be okay and I know you're not going to take a lot from me. So come on."

            "nevertheless, it had not been right of me to have not enough control over myself." he had fortunately not broken anything or worse, but he expected himself to control himself and not inflict pain on anyone who did not deserve it, and especially not on people he held dear. "yes, it’s a sight to get used to. fortunately, i am in a position to know that i will not lie in my coffin for long if it should happen against all expectations." unlike his siblings, elijah was never long away, as niklaus needed, depended on him too much. nonetheless, it was not an event that he wanted to provoke, because the dagger was extremely painful.

            but not only for this reason his thoughts were fixed on the dagger next to niklaus' present whereabouts. fortunately, ziva had taken it in her possession and when she showed him, he reached out his cold, gray hand. his fingers clenched laboriously around the dagger, as his joints were not as flexible as usual, and he took the dagger.

            "thank you, ziva." really, the possession of this dagger was a top priority. he looked at the dagger, which had been stained with his blood, before slowly and carefully putting it into the inner pocket of his ruined jacket where it was secure for the time being. it cannot be reused, not without a special further ingredient but it needed to be hidden from prying eyes nonetheless.

            "to help with my unhealthy skin color?", he questioned because she was most likely referring to that as it was the most striking feature. "not much." one blood would be enough. to regain his full strength, however, and not feel like he has been rolled over by a bulldozer, he would need more.

            "you don't have to worry about it. i feel okay." just a tad dead but he'll survive that. || @fbiartist

[sanji-screenshots]

I'm FINALLY through with Dressrosa which means I'll be seeing our main man again soon, but now I'm thinking about how long I'm going to be in Whole Cake Island... like it took me a (relatively) long time to get through Dressrosa and Sanji wasn't even there for most of it! With WCI I'm going to be pausing every 5 minutes to get screenshots! Lord help me, I'm going to be stuck there for the rest of my life...

[vargaslovinghours]

Y’all are being subjected to my Sims 2 tests, so there

The other set of Vargases came over for a visit and Scriabin picked up Shmee and started talking to Scriabin through him. Very normal, very usual

I downloaded some circle-glasses recolours and hghghh they look so good! Closer every day to his final details! Getting ever closer!

Edgar too! I made him a custom hair with a lighter undercut - I’m mostly happy with it, probably could’ve shifted it a shade closer to his skintone but the texturing was weird no matter what :P And his stripey shirt! I wish Body Shop didn’t have that hands-on-hips pose lol, it looks so much better in-game, but that’s all the better :)

I got some new clothes for Todd as well! As soon as I saw this ‘fit I was like “Oh that’s 100% Todd there he is.” Scriadad hug ♥ So cute

Foot-dancing together stopp it’s so cute!!

The way he looks at them stoppp <3 <3 They kept doing this right up til they left for home haha, Todd’s giggles are the cutest

Used SimPE to save him to the Body Shop, I now have infinite copies of The Boyyyy ♪

Moved him in with his “parents” as just shadow people basically, they’re not gonna matter in a bit as long as I remember how to get the Social Worker/Adoption process to work properly. Get her Todd!!

Wanna play? :D

Menacing :(

Look, Todd, your new dads are here! Initially I wasn’t sure who I wanted to adopt him, got lots of options; the first passes, the married couple with their own Todd, Johnny?? He definitely doesn’t have the facilities for a child lol But these are the ones that showed up on their own, so the married Vargases are the winners!

Scriabin cares more about him than his actual parents ;; A stranger off the street shows him more care! Not that it’s a high watermark

Look at him being a good dad!

Weh, he just wants friends ;; Poor baby

Best timeline, thank you

While we wait for CPS, let’s get some other interactions in! Nny is mean so he tended to prank the other two with a nose flick - mostly Edgar lol ♪ Now kiss

“Oh please don’t break all my bones~ :3” I love Todd looking up at them haha <3

Pffft, I think he was talking about the other Scriabin and just how attractive he is. Classic Scriabin. Alternatively, also funny to imagine him bragging himself up about how he’s just so handsome that Edgar can’t help but love him hahaha ♪

Allow me to tickle you with my KNIFE! >:D

Get a load of this guy lol

He ended up passing out at one point - I forgot which motives make CPS show up >.> - and completely 0%’d his comfort, but for some reason stargazing increased it?? It’s the same ground wh

Is two not enough to satisfy your butterfly bloodlust child?? He ended up with three, I had him release them before he was picked up by the Social Worker - success!

He rolled a new Want as soon as Todd was taken away - “Wants to see Ghost of Todd” Woah, dark! :0

And here he is on the married Vargases’ lot!! Success!! I did it right!! Heck yeah! :D Unfortunately they were uh, indisposed at the time. Good job guys pft

Goes right for Shmee, he really is Todd <3

[doodlingwren]

Hiatus

I am going on hiatus for a bit more. I really really hoped the stuff that have been going on lately were already "sorted out" but, uhm... they aren't. I need to take a bit more time offline once again, and try to work things out.

Thank you for your patience ❤

Wren

[sunaluv]

'IS SHE TAKEN?'

in which someone asks your man if you're single

feat: ran, gojo

RAN

the club setting was filled with more excitement tonight. don't get it twisted, any club or event hosted by the haitanis was guaranteed to be the event of the day, good vibes, hot people, and lots of money to be made. but when one of the brothers was actually present at the club? something about their aura seemed to bring out the vibes in people.

ran's hooded gaze watched adoringly at you across the club, the setting bringing nostalgia to the first time you met. ever the social butterfly you were, accepting another phone number from one of the girlfriends you made tonight. the other members of the roundtable looked at one another, wondering if the haitani brother was even present.

"no wonder you're so distracted, boss," the man next to him nudged him with his elbow, to which ran side-eyed him. "she's a looker, d'ya think she's single?"

your boyfriend appeared neutral as he let the guy ramble on about how hot you were, and what he would do to you given the chance. he missed the harsh roll of ran's eyes. if he didn't know you were spoken for, he would make sure this guy knew by the end of the night.

as if on queue, you waved bye to your new friends and started to make your way to the table. eyes followed your figure as you passed, but that was to be expected when the prettiest girl at the club walked past.

"hey, sweetheart," his soft lips pressed against the crown of your head. "you alright?"

"i'm good! a little tired though," you let out a deep sigh, melting into his arms. "these heels have been killing me..."

wordlessly, his large hands had your ankles in his lap, undoing the buckles on your heels and rubbing tender circles into the irritated skin.

he smirked at the relieved sigh that left your lips. "my buddy here has something to ask you, sweets."

the man next to you seemed to go silent since your arrival at the table, the consequences of his actions just hitting. a deep breath followed by a gulp as he wiped his damp hands against his slacks. he almost flinched when your hooded, yet dominating gaze met his own eyes, but after remembering who and where he was, he gained his composure almost as quickly as it left.

"nah 'ts nothin'," he waved his hand. "just a passing thought, is all..."

others both around the roundtable and those dancing near it tried not to make it obvious that they were watching the exchange going down. they found themselves pitying a character who would not deserve it, under different circumstances. but, as discussed, the haitani aura seems to throw things off of balance.

if he didn't want to talk, ran would do it for him. "he wants to know if your single, claims he could give you a lay better than your man could,"

your eyes left the man, instead looking over your boyfriends face in silent communication.

'you and i both know he can't'

'...i know, my love, just humor me every once in a while?'

'you're such a character sometimes, haitani'

'you love it though'

eyes darted between you, awaiting your response, thus his sentence in anticipation. he didn't know what telepathic language you were communicating in, but he was glad to not hear his fate get discussed right in front of him.

"i'm very flattered, but i have a boyfriend, sorry." your response was dry towards him, but the gaze you held with ran was anything but.

catching wind of what was about to happen, you excused yourself from the table, leaving a kiss on the corner of rans mouth, whispering a 'be good' in his ear before leaving.

whatever happened after your departure was not your business, after all.

GOJO

"hey man," a hand belonging to an unfamiliar man clasped on satorus shoulder. "do you know if the girl you came here with has a boyfriend?"

you had dragged your boyfriend to one of your friend's parties, much to his dismay. he's sworn off drinking after geto's blackmail folder started getting a bit thick, meaning there was nothing fun to do other than socialise, but he didn't want to after people flocked to him for the wrong reasons.

so now he was maybe the only sober one in this lively scene, which leads to the current events.

he spoke your name for clarity. "uhh, I'm not sure. you can go ask her if you want. ill even put in a good word for you."

has this man been a fraction more sober, he would've questioned why the blindfolded man's smile was so wide, or why he was so willing to help, but alas, this was a party and alcohol was supplied.

"thanks, dude! you're such a lifesaver."

satoru almost felt bad for the guy. he was practically buzzing whilst traversing through the sweaty bodies in search of you. he felt bad until he remembered how bored he was before this happened, he has to put himself first sometimes.

after a couple stumbles, reroutes and a rest break, they had finally found you in your angelic beauty, laughing with a group of girls he didn't know.

he thought it was quite cute how the guy seemed to become more shy at the sight of you, and satoru couldn't blame him. had he been someone more normal, he would act the same in your presence.

one of the girls caught sight of the pair by the entry and gestured you towards them. your face softened slightly at the sight of your six-foot-something boyfriend and his... friend?

"hey toru," you smiled, before looking at the other man. "who’s this?"

satoru said nothing, slapping the guy a little too harshly on the back before stepping back. the floor was his.

"hey," he breathed out, before introducing himself. "i saw you come in with your friend earlier, and just wanted to know if you were seeing anyone?"

your heart rate picked up, but not for the reason the guy was hoping. why was gojo like this? did he enjoy seeing you suffer?

he obviously did as when you looked over your shoulder to the said man, he gave you a big, encouraging grin with both thumbs up. the audacity.

he had thrown you to the wolves and left you to fend for yourself.

"uhm..." you breathed, trying not to shatter the poor guy's heart. "i have a boyfriend, unfortunately. sorry."

"what do you mean, unfortunately!" satoru mocked you from behind the guy. "I'm a total catch, right?" he turned to the guy. "right??"

though delayed, the guy had finally come to the realisation he had been punked by the man who egged him on the whole time. his face burst into a deep shade of red, apologising profusely before rushing back into the crowd.

"you're such an ass, gojo."

"the last name huh?" he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm in for it arent i?"

[raekensluver]

second to none

can be read as a stand alone but in case you want more- read part two here!

description: breaking up with your boyfriend spencer reid was difficult but not as difficult as realizing you were always going to be his second choice.

pairing: boyfriend!spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: angst, breakup, fighting, happens after jj’s confession to spencer in 12x15, toxic!spencer??, spencer not being a good boyfriend.

song rec: bored by billie eilish- "giving you all you want and more, giving you every piece of me."

w.c: 1.5k

an: i had to. the plot popped into my head and i couldn't not write it.

"spencer, i can't believe you." you muttered to yourself, glancing at your watch for the umpteenth time. the elegant restaurant buzzed with the muted chatter of couples enjoying their meals, the clinking of silverware against fine china, and the faint scent of gourmet dishes wafting from the kitchen. you had been waiting at the table for an hour, fidgeting with the delicate napkin in your lap, the anticipation of a special dinner slowly morphing into a sour knot in your stomach.

eventually, a staff member, impeccably dressed in a black suit, approached you with a polite smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "miss," he began, "i'm terribly sorry, but we have a rather large queue of guests waiting for a table tonight. would you mind taking a seat in the lobby for a few minutes? you can notify us as soon as your party arrives."

you looked up at him, feeling the weight of the situation finally crash down on you. the rain outside had picked up, beating against the restaurant's windows like a symphony of impatience. your heart sank as you realized that spencer wasn't coming. not tonight, not ever, maybe. with a deep breath, you forced a smile and nodded. "of course," you said, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. "i'll just go."

as you stepped outside, the cold rain slapped you in the face like a cruel reminder of your reality. the chilly water seeped through the fabric of your expensive dress, sticking it to your skin, and your purse grew heavier with every drop that soaked into the leather. the sound of your high heels tapping against the wet pavement echoed through the quiet street, the only music to your one-woman parade of disappointment. you hadn't anticipated the storm when you'd chosen your outfit earlier, the forecast promising a clear evening. but then again, you hadn't anticipated being stood up either.

then, through the sheet of rain, you saw him. spencer reid, your boyfriend, the man who was supposed to be waiting for you with a bouquet of roses and an apology on his lips. he was hunched over, his suit drenched and clinging to his lanky frame, hurrying down the sidewalk with a look of utter distraction. your heart jumped into your throat, a mix of anger and relief swirling in your chest like a tempest.

you sprinted towards him, your heels clicking faster against the wet ground. "spencer!" you called out, your voice strained and desperate. he stopped, looking up with a startled expression that melted into something close to guilt when he saw you. the rain continued to pummel down on both of you, but you didn't care. "where have you been?" you demanded, your voice tight with emotion.

he took a step closer, water dripping from his hair onto his face. "i had to talk to jj," he said, his eyes flickering with something you couldn't quite read. "about what she said yesterday."

"for two hours?" you ask, incredulous. your voice grew louder, edged with a mix of anger and betrayal. "while i've been waiting here, getting soaked, you've been with her? discussing your feelings? and without a text or call to tell me that you couldn't make it?"

spencer's gaze dropped to the ground, the rain plastering his lashes to his cheeks. "it's not like that," he mumbled, his words barely audible over the rain's crescendo. "you know we just got out of a tough situation."

you nodded, your teeth gritted. "yes, i know," you replied, your voice tight as a bowstring. "but that doesn't give you an excuse to ditch me like this. we had plans, spencer. important plans."

his eyes snapped back up to meet yours, a spark of anger igniting in them. "important plans? i almost died yesterday, and jj…she had to deal with so much. i had to make sure she was okay."

you took a deep breath, trying to push down the wave of anger crashing over you. "i understand that, spencer," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "but jj has a husband, a family. it's not your job to fix her."

spencer looked up, his eyes searching yours, as if looking for a hint of understanding. "you don't get it," he said, his voice rising slightly. "you weren't there. you don't know what it was like."

you felt the heat of anger rising in your cheeks, your body trembling from the cold and the emotional turmoil. "no, spencer, i don't get it," you retorted, your voice strained. "what i do know is that i've been waiting for you, for hours, in the rain, because i thought tonight was important to us. because i thought i was important to you."

spencer took a step back, his eyes widening slightly. "that's not fair," he protested, his voice tight. "i had to do what was right for jj."

you felt the last threads of patience snap within you. "right for jj?" you echoed, your voice rising to match his. "what about what's right for us?"

spencer looked taken aback, his eyes darting around as if searching for a way out of the conversation. "i'm sorry," he began, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

"don't," you said firmly. "just don't. i've had enough of apologies and excuses. i thought after what happened, we could finally move forward, but it seems like i'll always be second to her, to your job, to whatever crisis pops up next."

spencer's mouth opened and closed, a silent protest forming on his lips. the rain continued its relentless symphony around you, a stark contrast to the silent tension that had taken root between you two. "that's not true," he finally managed to say, his voice strained.

but you were already shaking your head, the cold rain mixing with the tears that were now streaming down your face. "it is, spencer," you said, your voice cracking. "it's always been true. i can't do this anymore."

his eyes searched yours, desperation and confusion fighting for dominance in his gaze. "what are you saying?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

you took a deep breath, the rain feeling like a million tiny needles piercing your skin. "i'm saying that i can't be in a relationship where i'm always the backup plan, where i'm never the priority." your voice was steady, despite the storm of emotions raging within you. "i deserve better than this, spencer. i deserve someone who's all in."

his eyes searched yours, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. "i am all in," he insisted, taking a step closer. "you're everything to me."

but the words felt hollow, like they were being spoken by a stranger. "then why isn't it showing?" you countered, your voice strong despite the tears that continued to fall. "why do i always feel like i'm fighting for your attention?"

spencer's expression fell, the rain now a mirror for the sadness in his eyes. "i never meant for it to be like this," he murmured, his hand reaching out to touch your arm. but you stepped back, shivering from the cold, your resolve unyielding.

"actions speak louder than words, spencer," you said, your voice barely above the patter of rain. "and your actions have been speaking volumes."

his hand dropped to his side, the silence stretching out like a yawning chasm. the streetlights cast a sad, yellow glow on the puddles forming at your feet, reflecting the sadness in your heart. "i'm sorry," he repeated, his voice thick with something that might have been regret.

you stared at him, the rain plastering your hair to your face, your dress clinging to your body like a second, unwelcome skin. "sorry isn't enough," you said, your voice cold. "not this time."

without another word, you turned away from spencer, your heels clicking a staccato rhythm on the wet pavement as you made your way to the curb. raising your hand, you hailed a taxi, the yellow beacon of the approaching car's light cutting through the gloom like a lifeline. the engine rumbled closer, the wipers swiping back and forth in a futile attempt to clear the windshield of the relentless downpour.

as the taxi pulled over, you stepped in, slamming the door shut with a finality that seemed to echo through the night. the warmth of the car's interior was a stark contrast to the cold that had seeped into your bones from the rain and the even colder conversation with spencer. the driver looked at you in the rearview mirror, his eyes filled with concern. "where to, miss?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.

you took a deep, shaky breath and recited your address, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears. the car pulled away from the curb, leaving spencer standing in the rain, looking after you with a mix of shock and despair etched on his face. you couldn't bring yourself to look back, instead focusing on the streaks of water racing down the window, blurring the streetlights into a kaleidoscope of colors.

edited 8.20.24

[adarafaelbarba]

“come and sit on my face and i’ll show you how much i missed you”

With barba? Slight age gap, he keeps canceling dates and she’s mad that Carmen had to tell her and not him

A/N: Rafael is 48 in this one (it's right before he leaves for Iowa) and reader is 33 😊 Warnings: Smut, minors DNI! Some arguing in the beginning, looks like they won't make up, but spicy in the second half, Rafael using his skills to win her back.

You were beyond pissed at Rafael. Of course, you'd expected there might be some hiccups early on in the relationship, you were both busy people, and some nights might be harder to plan dates on than others.

But this was the fifth time this month that something had come up, and he'd have to cancel. Worse still was the fact that he'd gotten his assistant, Carmen, to call you about it.

On a normal day, you and Carmen got on like a charm, but you could hear in her voice when she called you, that she did not want to make this call.

So when Rafael finally showed up at your place, at 11pm, you nearly slammed the door in his face.

"Amor! Please! I'm sorry okay, something came up with the case last minute and I couldn't just leave it!" He tried, but you couldn't even look at him.

"Always something to do with work. I understand you have a demanding job, Rafael, but so do I, and I still make time for you. You couldn't just have asked one of the 25 paralegals working under the SVU department at One Hogan Place to fix it for you?"

"It's not that easy, this case is too delicate--"

"If they don't get to try the hard cases, how will they learn?! I asked for time off, you could've done the same!" You didn't want to yell at him, but this might be the last straw.

"Please, let me make it up to you, amor--"

"I don't know if you can."

He shot forward and grabbed your hand, pulling at it until you looked at him. "This can't be it--amor, please give me another chance!"

You bit your lip, looking at him, he looked like he was about to cry, a weakness of yours when it came to him, "Rafael--"

"Please, amor, I'll do anything--."

You shook your head, needing time.

---

Three months after you last saw Rafael, you were at the Manhattan SVU, covering a shift for Sonny who had to call in sick, something that honestly never happened.

Upon entering, you spotted the last person you wanted to see, standing in Liv's office. The two looked so homey, it stirred something inside you that you didn't like.

Sitting down at Sonny's desk, you tried your best to ignore the feeling, and going about the case you were working instead, when suddenly there was a tap at your shoulder. You looked up to see Amanda nudging you.

"Barba is looking at you, what gives?"

You flushed slightly. "It's complicated," you murmured, not wanting anyone else to hear, least of all, Rafael.

"Wait?! You two?!" Amanda exclaimed, making you want the earth to eat you up whole. "Aren't you like 15 years younger than him?!"

"Is that any of your concern, detective Rollins?" Rafael's voice sounded stern, like an angry school teacher, stirring something completely different from earlier inside you.

Amanda managed to get an "I'm sorry out" before she sat back down to work on her own stuff.

"Can we talk, y/n?" Rafael was right in front of you now.

"What's there to talk about--." But you got up regardless, not wanting to have an audience as you broke down.

The two of you made your way to the on-call room, no one would be using it for the next hour, so he could try and explain himself in peace for now.

Once the door was closed, he trapped you between it and his body, looking down at you. "Sit on my face, amor, and I'll show you how much I've missed you." he whispered, then you heard the lock clicking behind you.

"We're at work--"

"I can be quiet, can you?"

As if on queue, you let out a whimper. "we shouldn't--"

He dipped his head, his nose brushing against your cheek, his breath hot on your skin. "Let me show you how much I've missed you", he repeated.

It felt like your legs were turning into jelly, and you leant up to finally kiss him. The kiss turning desperate as you made out. Rafael taking the opportunity to grab your waist and walk you to the bed.

"Strip for me." He was as demanding now as he was in court, which honestly turned you on more than you wanted to admit.

Doing as you were told, you stripped for Rafael while he laid down on the bed, getting ready for you.

"Now be a good girl and sit on my face, but keep quiet, won't want the others to hear you."

You nodded, straddling his head. As soon as you did, he pulled you down onto him, beginning the onslaughter on your pussy. A small yelp coming from you, but you were quick to clamp a hand over your mouth. Your eyes rolling back at how good he made you feel.

It would take no effort at all from him to get you to the edge, and he knew that, which made him so much more lethal when he gave you pleasure.

And sure enough, you soon found yourself on the edge of your release, on of your hands going into his hair, holding him there while he helped you through the best orgasm you'd ever had.

Getting off him, he had the biggest grin on his face, and you wanted to stay mad, but in that moment, you only felt love for him.

He got up after you, pulling you in for a heated kiss as he rubbed your heated body up and down. "I'll never betray you again, amor, please give me another chance."

You nodded at that, "one more chance, no more." Which he agreed to, helping you get redressed.

~~~

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[fbiartist]

"Good, good, good," Ziva tucked her head into their shoulder and took a deep breath. "I'm so tired, the world needs to stop spinning for like five minutes. Maybe ten."

Zora chuckles a little bit at Ziva's comment about them being a very high person. They just give her a gentle little squeeze in response to their statement.

"I'm not high right now.. but I do get what you mean. The sentiment is deeply appreciated, Ziva."

[gguk-n]

Hate you (Lando Norris x Reader)

{Lando's POV}

As I lay in my bed, the sheets felt cold, devoid of any warmth; as if their previous owner had taken it all with them. I found myself staring at ceiling after spending the better part of the night twisting and turning in my bed.

"Lan, babe" she whispered, "can't sleep?" she asked. My eyes locked with her, a gap in between us while we lay in bed. As if on queue, she opened her arms, "come here" she mumbled. "I'm too sleepy to be still awake" she continued. I scooted closer, into her arms. I found myself laying on her open arm while the other wrapped it self around my shoulder; our legs tangling themselves in each other. "Go to sleep, love" she whispered while her hand raked through my hair and kissed my forehead. I heard the rhythmic beating of her heart, lulling me to sleep.

A tear slipped out of my eyes, pooling on the pillow case under me. I spent the entire night tossing and turning as I tried to chase the sleep that never came to me. Morning couldn't come any sooner, I decided to head out to the gym and get done with my work out and exercise for the day. It helped my thoughts from running rampant as I focused my energy on the task at hand. As I opened the door, "Babe, I'm back" I called out, only to be met with the cold gust of wind that blew at me. I slowly walked into the kitchen to open the fridge and grab myself something to eat. It was empty.

"Lan, here, I heated up your breakfast for you." she said, handing me a bowl of the diet food I was supposed to eat, as recommended by my trainer. But her cooking made the food so much more delicious and I never felt like I was ever on a diet. I pecked her lips while grabbing the bowl from her hands. "What would I do without you?" I asked with a laugh. "Crash and burn" she replied proudly turning to get back to meal prepping for me.

The last time I had asked my trainer to send me my pre-cooked meals was years ago. Since we had started dating, she had taken the role of making my food. The fridge now lay barren, a remnant of her absence. I poured myself a glass of water and went back to my room.

The bedroom felt like a hotel room, devoid of any character. My stuff lay sprawled out on the floor. The small trinkets or the photo frames that adorned my side table were missing. The dressing table looked cold and my closet empty.

"Babe, you're gonna have to buy new hangers, a couple more towels and some cleaning supply." she called out as she unpacked her bag for the first time as she moved into my our flat. "You know what my card pin is, order whatever you need" I replied. "I'm gonna stock up on my skin care too" she teased. "You can buy the Kohinoor diamond if you want" I teased back. I could hear her laugh echo through out, making my heart warm and fuzzy. She spent the next couple of months turning my stock image of a flat into a home. There were clothes, books, magazines, utensils and candles decorating our home. She took her time making this place ours.

Right now, our my home was back to it's stock image self. All the picture frames and the candles were empty and missing their owner. I stepped into the shower to find the shelf empty which was usually filled with all her shampoos and conditioners.

"It's a good thing" she said as she massaged the shampoo into my scalp. "What is?" I asked, enjoying the sensation. "The fact that the both of us have curly hair. Your hair's taking my products pretty well" she replied. "Yeah, you've made me hotter than I already am" I joked. "Hair can do a lot for a man" she said solemnly. "I'll wash this out and we'll try the new conditioner and curling cream I got yesterday" she giggled while grabbing the bottles.

My hair was a mess since she left. I never paid attention to what she used, she's always make me look even more handsome than I was. I got done with the shower and decided to grab something to eat from outside and left the house with the keys to my McLaren. I hadn't taken the Lambo out since she left because it was her favourite car and it smelled like her.

The next couple of day were spent without much sleep and the most outer body experience. I found myself at the club asking the bartend to get me drink after drink to drown out my sorrow. I kept telling my self that she was selfish and she never thought about me before breaking up. I drowned drink after drink lamenting the lost of the best person I knew. She was selfish, she broke my heart and took it with her. It wasn't fair on me since she decided to prioritise herself and forget all the good times we had; I told myself. "I hate her" I mumbled as I downed another glass of whiskey. Before I know it, Max was wrapping his arm around my waist and walking me back to his car. I didn't feel as inebriated as I wished I did, to not be able to remember anything.

She had been anxious the whole weekend, fidgeting with her fingers as she sat in my drivers room. Every time I asked her about it, she would brush me off. I decided not to press her wait for her to spill it out. After the race on Sunday, we headed back on the private jet, just the two of us. The flight wasn't very long and I couldn't wait to get home. Her posture had gotten even more tense then before. "Lando, we need to talk" she said barely above a whisper. This couldn't be good, she never called me by my name. Her hands clasped and unclasped themselves while she rocked a bit on her heels. "I got an offer, from that video game company that I love" she began. "That's great news baby" I lunged forward holding her hands. She pulled her hands away from me, "They are based in Australia" she spoke. "That doesn't matter. You'll be working remotely anyways." I suggested. "Actually" she spoke, "They want me to come in to the office, since the new game they are working on is top secret and it's a big deal for them too" she finished. "Well I can travel with you whenever you need and you can come and go" I suggested. "I might not be able to come to any races or stay in Monaco for the next couple of years" she said tentatively. "What" I almost screamed. "How can you make such a decision without talking with me?" I shouted. "I never made the decision. It's just that, this is like a dream come true for me, you know" she replied meekly with tears in her eyes. "You don't care about me. How can you be so selfish?" I cried out. "baby, I'm not, I...this is a once in a life time opportunity" she croaked out. "You don't love me" I mumbled. "What no, baby" she reached out to hold my face in between her hands, but I was angry and I pushed her away. How could she be so selfish and decide to move away after so many years together? "I love you, I really do but we talked about how long distance was a deal breaker for you, so I wanted to discuss this with you" she cried out. "yeah, it is. I can't imagine being away from the one I love" I spat out. "I love you Lando, I really do but this my dream like Formula one is yours" she whimpered. "You can't be serious right" I muttered. It was the anger talking; before thinking it through; "We're done" I said in a sharp voice. I got up from my seat and walked away to the door since we had just landed.

She ran after me, begging me to reconsider but I was too angry and I wasn't thinking straight. I broke up with her and didn't even look back. I stayed back at Max's place as she emptied out the apartment. All I could do was hate her for not wanting to stay, to numb the pain away.

The next morning I woke up to a note from Max and a glass of water with some pain meds. I drank the water and took my medicines. As I placed the glass back, my finger got caught in the lowest drawer of my side table which came open as I moved away. In front me lay polaroids from our dates. The one's I had taken. The top one was of her sending a flying kiss and the one next to it was of us kissing. It hurt seeing these, now. I couldn’t help but cry. I knew, deep down that the only way I would be able to make the pain go away was by making her the villain even though she wasn't one; because I was selfish and didn't want to feel the hurt.

[sharkiethrts]

[𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡'𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙗𝙪𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙖 𝙥𝙤𝙥𝙨]

𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘔𝘗𝘛: 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘫𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘢𝘯

g/n reader

: both jing yuan and reader are young children here, jing yuan is pining (ineffectively) at the reader

: approximately 465 words (chat gpt said so)

Jing Yuan is late again. At this point, it is a familiar routine: he'd run in with sweat beading up at his forehead- Jingliu would throw a faded hankie at his face, urging him to wipe it off with a glance before nagging at him- "what's your reason this time?" "Did you oversleep?" "Did you go to eat your breakfast at Mr Zhang's store again? The queue is too long there. Go eat at the canteen instead- you children are too whiny about soldier rations."

The truth is, Jing yuan never oversleeps and he always skips breakfast. It isn't a military regime he put himself on at all, no. If Jingliu knew that the brat in front of him was skipping breakfast, she would order the senior guards to eat breakfast with him. He would have to suffer from indigestion for the next few weeks (the senior guards adores picking on the apple-cheeked boy) until Jingliu is finally convinced that the brat will listen.

.

But he won't ever listen because Jing Yuan has a long route to take that he can't afford to miss. Your route. Well, not your route. It's the route through Cloudford. For context: where Jingliu expects him to be at every dawn is miles away. But this lovesick boy remains stubborn, he travels the route to Cloudford with a boyish grin- a blush would bundle up at his round cheeks when he spots you in your familiar attire, your uniform stained with food crumbs from your rush.

"[Name]! Wait up!" And when you do stop, a pretty sight is granted to you- perhaps a morning call from the Eons? There's no way anyone can remain nonchalant and sleepy at the sight of this messy haired, toothpaste decorated face, "Are you heading to class? I heard that your Master brought over some swords he specifically commissioned from the Artisanship Commission! I saw! Let me spoil you in a bit of the fun- one of them is fully jaded, and another-"

He definitely rushed to see you.

"Shouldn't you be going to yours? Miss Jingliu would kill you if she knew that you're all the way at Cloudford right now, Jing Yuan."

His eyes crinkled from the widening of his smile at the call of his name, "She'll survive! Let me walk you there-"

"Jing Yuan. Your cloud knight training?"

Oh eons, did you not hear his plead this morning? Jing Yuan turned slowly, adjusting his attire- trying not to slouch in fear. Getting scolded in front of the other Cloud knights is not as embarrassing and as tear-jerking as it is in front of you. Not to mention, his master knows all the grimy details under his sleeves.

And there she was, in her glory- her sharp eyes piercing his through one strike. He bends over immediately, face apologetic- catching glimpse of your smiling face, clearly amused by the scene taking place in front of you.

"You have toothpaste on your face, boy," Jing Yuan's face flushed red at the newly learned information. Ah crap, did you see that? He glances at your face briefly- yeah, you definitely did. Curse his heart- he was so excited to talk to you he stumbled at basic cleanliness.

"I think it makes him cute, you shouldn't have told him, Miss Jingliu," You hum. You are one of the few unaffected by the intimidation his master poses- your frequent rendezvous with Jing Yuan hyper-exposed you to Jingliu's more reasonable sides.

"[Name], go to class. Your master is waiting for you," Jingliu turns to him, and he immediately regrets not shifting his gaze down at his feet earlier," As for you," she waits for you to go, "Confess soon. I don't want to keep chastising you on your... inconvenient hobbies."

A smile blooms at his face at that.

"Yes Master! Duly noted!"

[boba-beom]

ೃ⁀➷ airport crush pt 2 | CHOI YEONJUN NSFW

pairing: brother's best friend!yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff, kinda angsty

wc: 3.4k

warning: angstier than I thought oops, smut with plot, arguing, yeonjun pining for reader, jealousy, possessive yj at some point, but also lowkey sub!yeonjun ngl, reader confesses about the past but yj does for the present, heavy petting, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, just the tip tease, piv but yj doesn't cum— mile high club ;) , toilet sex again, pet names (baby, good girl, good boy), praises (both), yj calls reader mommy ONCE, light marking, let me know if I've missed anything!

summary: after spending some time with your airport crush, yeonjun's pissed you were spending your time 'efficiently' with someone who isn't him. but you agreed to do anything so he wouldn't snitch to your brother about the marks on your neck.

a/n: the long-awaited next part is here, there is one more main part after this. I hope you enjoy this part just as much as yeonjun did hehe what better way to save this than for @majestyjun's 24 days with yeonjun for our jjunie's birthday! ♥

airport crush part 1 (beomgyu)

boarding the plane was no problem, beomgyu had made you laugh in the queue–maybe even flirted–despite the slight delay, but it didn't go unnoticed by the people around you. you heard yeonjun subtly bickering with your brother, but soobin wasn't having any of it—he was too jet-lagged to even give two shits at this point. you knew this was going to be a long flight ahead of you and yet all you could think about was beomgyu and his fingers, and how bad you want him to—

you heard a ping and looked down at your phone to see beomgyu had airdropped you a note as your way of messaging each other before the plane had set off. he sent you a few memes and your scoffs would turn into chuckles until you both decided to rest and talk when you reach the airport.

it was a given that yeonjun isn't keen on whatever is going on between you and your newfound fuck buddy. yeonjun may be two years older than you, but there's something about him that you weren't aware of.

"yn? are you even listening to me?" yeonjun fakes a heartache with his palm flat on his chest while you give him a deadpan glare. "and what's happened to your 'stranger danger' policy?"

"yeonjun, I can't lie, I've developed this talent to block you out. now you're like white noise to me." you force a smile until it immediately dropped. "also, YJ, I'm not a kid anymore. I'm literally in my early twenties, chill out."

he scoffs, an annoyed smile crawling on his lips. "and I'm literally just looking out for you, how do you not see that?"

"I don't need you to look after me, m'kay? I have soobin for that. even still, just let me make my own choices." turning your body slightly, facing the window.

you couldn't care less with what he had to say. you were just pissed that it was him, and not beomgyu, sitting next to you. beomgyu was sitting a few rows down from you on the opposite site of the plane, you could just about spot the plum tinge of his hair. soobin, on the other hand, was sitting between random people in the middle section of the plane, a couple of rows in front of you and yeonjun. you weren't in their line of sight, and vice versa.

that's going to be a problem.

"you know what annoys me actually? the fact that you're so smug about this whole thing. you meet a stranger and now you feel like you've met the love of your life." you roll your eyes and take a deep breath before exhaling your frustration.

"oh boo you, is it because I managed to find someone to hook up and have fun with before this holiday even started?" you retort, refusing to look at him, bearing in mind that there are a few people sleeping around you.

"oh for fucks sake, yn, grow up." you hear him exhale.

you scoff. "me? no, yeonjun. you, grow the fuck up. I'm sick and tired of whatever problem it is you have with me."

raking his hands through his hair, he looks up before placing a hand on your knee, “listen here, little miss princess, stop being a fucking brat, you’re so annoying like that.” but what you don’t know is that it's slightly turning him on, knowing how hot-headed you can be, he secretly loves how argumentative you two are and he sort of thrives off of that. he had no intention for it to take a turn like this though.

you stare at him, eyes steady, narrowing and not wavering even a little bit. “and you’re starting to piss me off, choi.” you unbuckle the seatbelt over your hips, your hand pushing off his from your thigh before passing his legs to scoot yourself to the aisle, catching soobin's sleeping form and making your way to the toilet at the end of the plane.

from beomgyu’s peripheral vision, he turns his body to look back, watching you make your way to the toilet and noting the dull look on your face. his eyes trailed behind you to find yeonjun who looked like he was chasing after you. he sits back comfortably, sighing and rolling his eyes from the thought of what yeonjun must have done to piss you off this time.

yeonjun knocks on the door and calls your name softly a couple of times, “let me in. come on, talk to me.”

you sigh, not wanting people to continue watching him knocking on the door, and for all they know you two look like you’re in some sort of lovers quarrel. he quickly enters as soon as you open the door, and you scoot aside as an attempt to make space for his six foot figure.

“and you couldn’t just leave me alone? how embarrassing.” you huff, crossing your arms against your chest, but due to the close proximity, you can feel his breath fanning by your neck.

“you want to talk about embarrassing? how about hooking up with a stranger at the airport? hmm?” he retorts, slightly raising his voice at you.

you cover his mouth to remind him to keep his voice down.

“what the fuck is this obsession about me hooking up with beomgyu. just say you’re jealous and go, oh my god, yeonjun." you aggressively whisper.

your chest heaves from the anger gradually coming out, and if you weren't in a plane right this moment then yeonjun would definitely get a taste of your wrath. it was silent for a moment with the both of you holding this intense eye contact with a hint of something unspoken. yeonjun breaks away first, turning around as much as he can with his hand back to running through his teal strands.

"I am." is all he mutters.

"you are what?" you exasperatedly rub at your temples with your eyes shut in the hopes that he'd just be straight with you.

"I am jealous." he starts. "god, all this time I tried to avoid the littlest thoughts about you, and now that you've grown up to be such a confident, intelligent and beautiful woman it's kind of hard not to be around you."

your head shoots up, almost breaking your neck at his confession. a million things were going on in your head but not a single thought was stable enough to comprehend that your crush throughout your childhood and teenage years had liked you all this time.

it took you so long to get over him, and after being completely over him for two long years, he's thrown away all your efforts.

"I... hate you." your voice breaks, tears threatening to run down your cheek, tired of his stupid games.

the warmth of his body starts radiating even more, feeling him lean closer than you already were. your eye contact lasts for less than a second until he crashes his lips on yours with his hands desperately fumbling with your arms and throwing it over his shoulders before finding purchase on your waist.

the kiss was messy. nothing but teeth clashing and heavy breaths until yeonjun swiftly swaps places with you and hits your back against the door, hard enough for it to just rattle gently.

"you don't hate me." yeonjun whispers before diving in to capture your lips again.

the pace of the kiss was starting to pick up; his hands gradually lifting your shirt until his hands were massaging and roaming over the mounds of your breasts through your bra, whining from the contact, and your fingers tangling themselves in his dishevelled hair.

you let out soft whimpers as soon as his plush lips peppers along the column of your neck, a heated trail over the hickeys that beomgyu had left before.

"I hate you so much," you whine.

"you look so hot marked up, too bad this area's been marked by someone else." he growls in your ear, while his hands busy themselves by tugging down your sweatpants.

the material of your sweatpants fell just above your knees and that was enough for yeonjun to slide his fingers into your panties, roughly circling your clit with his middle finger, making your core twitch with every circle he drew.

"oh fuck, jjun—" a moan got stuck in your throat while yeonjun went back to attacking your lips with soft nibbles on your bottom lip.

his lips descended down your body, from your neck, littering kisses over your breasts, down your navel and straight to your plush thighs. his finger stopped working on you and instead, grabbing ahold of one of your thighs to prop over his shoulder so he could kiss and suck on your inner thighs.

"you should be marked more often, only where I can see them." after leaving a mark on your skin, he sensually flicks his tongue on the surface, giving you a preview on what his tongue could be used for.

"shut up and eat me out already." you lace your fingers in his hair, tugging on them to inflict minor pain.

yeonjun's dick throbbed from the way you explicitly said that aloud, never thinking he'd hear you say that.

his hands steadied your hips, holding on tightly and kitten licking at your clit. the wet muscle twirling around your bundle of nerves had you holding in your moans, letting out airy grunts as an attempt.

"so sweet." yeonjun draws back before diving his face straight into your core, sticking his tongue out and lapping up at your entrance. you could feel the vibrations from his moans as soon as he sticks his tongue into your slick cunny. it was difficult to not get so wet when yeonjun's lips felt like heaven on yours, and you felt like your soul was ascending when they were all over your body.

"YJ— fuck, did you know I— mmh, liked you back then?" you struggle getting your sentence out when yeonjun's basically tongue fucking your pussy.

he ignores your question and groans against your core, his tongue reaching as far as it can inside you, but every time his nose bumped your clit you'd curl in a little. annoyed, you tug his hair back so he's looking up at you, the dim light in the toilet reflecting the sheen layer of spit and your arousal on his lips and dripping down his chin.

"I asked you a question."

he grabs your wrist, shaking off your hold on his roots and brought the back of your fingers to his lips. "I knew." and then he inserted your index and middle fingers past his lips, feeling his tongue dancing between and around your digits.

you could moan at the sight, knowing that he probably knows those are the two fingers you used to fuck yourself to the thought of him.

"then why didn't you say anything? do you know how hard I wanted you to notice me?" you almost whine.

"oh trust me, I always noticed you." he guides your fingers at your dripping entrance. "I didn't want to make a move because you're my best friend's little sister. Soobin would fucking kill me if I thought about you like that, hell, he'd kill me if he finds out I'm eating you out several rows away from him."

you wince at his choice of words, but more so when he flat tongues your clit while controlling your fingers pumping in and out of you. but it wasn't enough.

"jjun, I need more." you quietly cry behind the palm of your hand, trying to keep your cries at bay.

he sucks at your bead until a quick yelp slipped past your lips, grabbing him by the collar of his quarter-zip and pulling him up to kiss you. the taste of your arousal lingered on your tongue as he plays around with yours.

this was something you had wet dreams about. something that you desperately wanted every time you saw him come over. the things you would think about when he'd bring his then-girlfriends around when he was hanging out with soobin.

"please, I want to feel a little more." you hate to beg, but you were thinking, you're already in this situation, why not go the extra mile?

"of course, baby. anything for you." he switches up so easily now that he's confessed to you, wondering that all this time he could have been bearable if he had just told you, even if you were to keep it between yourselves, he would have been so much easier to deal with.

yeonjun spreads his wet kisses along your jaw and behind your ear, imitating your quiet moans as you continue to unzip his loose jeans, pulling them down just below his balls.

as he strokes his length, you lean your head against his shoulder, looking down and observing how pretty his dick is; the pink tip that's a similar tone to his lips with a clear bead of pre-cum dribbling out slowly. not to mention his girth was perfect to the point you could feel yourself aching to have him inside you.

"should I just put the tip in?" yeonjun mumbles by your temples.

he aligns the head of his cock at your entrance, feeling the faint stretch as it dips inside. you sigh, wanting more but he purposely slides it against your folds an swiping over your clit. the motion had you exhaling your breath that you had been subconsciously holding in ever since he was stroking himself.

"yeonjun, please. I want you inside of me." you beg so prettily that yeonjun could feel his dick twitch in his hand, his eyes tightly shut briefly.

"want you to feel good." his sentences have now reduced to wanting to please you, he didn't care about himself, though you're about to wet his dick, he was still doing whatever you wanted.

you hold onto his shoulders, one leg wrapped around his hip as he pushes in, feeling the delicious stretch against your walls. "gonna. fuck. you. so. good." he grunts in between shallow thrusts.

his hands are glued to your hips and under your thigh, holding you in place for him to fuck in this small compartment. but that doesn't stop him from eagerly reaching as deep as he can inside you. his thrusts get deeper after every other kiss you leave on his neck and collar bone, loving the way your lips makes his skin tingle.

the speed of yeonjun's thrusts get faster, and the hold your pussy has on his cock gets tighter. he has his eyes trained on your face, watching your brows knit and your mouth parting.

"mmhh yeah, that's it baby, right there." you moan by his ear and his pace picks up gradually. he loves the way you want more of his dick, not beomgyu's, but his.

the corners of his lips quirked up at the thought of you forgetting about beomgyu and wanting him at that moment. yeonjun wanted to take this chance to show you he could fuck you better than whatever beomgyu did.

"like that?" he whispers, pulling up your shirt and bra so your boobs were on full display.

he gawked at the sight of your bare chest in front of him, his hips not faltering a single bit; still aiming to make you cum on his dick. it took him no second thoughts to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples, sucking and releasing with 'pop' sounds and repeating as he hears more of your mixture of moans and whimpers.

you loved the sensation of yeonjun's tongue and pillowy lips on your boobs, but his dick was starting to drill into you, feeling your mind going hazy with every stroke against your gummy walls.

"I'm close." you whimper above him, his lips still suckling at your aroused nipple and the other massaging it in the palm of his hand.

"wan' you to cum around me mommy." his words were muffled from his occupied mouth, but the slight rasp in the way he said it was ticking your orgasm closer by the millisecond.

yeonjun lets go of your boob and starts playing with your clit again, his thrusts doesn't falter even when you clench around him like a vice, your walls convulsing around him. your moans were becoming dangerously loud, and if it wasn't for yeonjun swallowing your moans by helplessly kissing you, then you were sure you would have a flight attendant knocking at the door.

your thighs start shaking under his hold as you leak down your legs but yeonjun pulls out, his cock still standing strong as reaches for the tissues to clean up your mess.

"feel better?" he wipes down the remaining droplets by your knees, before throwing the tissue away and tucking his hard dick into his baggy jeans.

you cock your head to the side, "you didn't cum?"

"it's okay, just wanted to make you feel good, remember? you were about to transform into a dragon out there with all your huffing and puffing. and even though I got my dick wet, at least it was by you." you slap his shoulder light-heartedly, scoffing at his comment before you both bursted into a shared laugh.

"you were irritating me that's why." you reply. "and you really are just that obsessed with me huh? that why your temper went down too?"

you watch him check up on himself through the mirror, relaying a slow nod to you. noting the faint couple of hickeys you left just under his collar, it's as if he knew what you were thinking and he zipped up his quarter-zip a little higher than before. he seemed more peaceful now, and you found it cute that the tip of his ears were blushing pink.

"I am obsessed with you. literally can't stop thinking about you." his hand reaches for your waist and brings you closer until your chests collide.

"okay, lover boy. take it easy on the simp talk." he scoffs, but the smile he has on his face seems like he's satisfied even when you haven't said how you currently feel towards him.

"can I have another kiss? literally miss your lips already." he kisses your shoulder slowly, maybe leaving two or three. something about that gesture made your heart drop.

you were selfish. you just met beomgyu who you have a good feeling about. but that isn't enough for you apparently. you have yeonjun wrapped around your finger and the fact that he's obsessed with you just as much as you were for him just feeds that emptiness you'd been feeling for so long.

"yn? you know you can say no." you snapped out of your thoughts and didn't realise there was a gap, as much as there can be, between you and yeonjun.

"kiss me." your hands are splayed flat on his chest, caressing the area with your thumb as he cups your cheek with one hand and pulls you in by the hip with the other.

your lips have only kissed three people in your lifetime. your first kiss in freshman year college, beomgyu and now yeonjun. but you seem just as in need of his lips as he is with yours. they were perfect and pouty. soft but also dangerously addictive. and the way he lets you lightly trap his bottom lip between your teeth just makes you want him even more.

you both pull away, a short string of saliva fallen from your lips which has yeonjun's eyes filled with lust for you.

"I- I think we should head out. we're lucky it isn't a full plane." you stutter from the gaze he had on you just a second before.

"it's fine. we'll never see these people again." yeonjun chuckles at you for your attempt at discretion. "and I don't think they cared enough to stop us."

you shrugg at his response, adjusting your shirt even though it still wasn't going to miraculously cover the hickeys beomgyu left.

as soon as you open the door, you step out first and yeonjun stepping out after with him faking a cover up conversation for the people you would walk past to hear, "are you feeling better now?"

you find your row and take your seat, nudging him, "oh shut up." and he laughs at your response.

you genuinely did feel better after the released tension, but now you just don't know how you're going about this sticky situation you were in. you see beomgyu slowly turn his head and you keep an eye on his purple hair until he looks at you, shooting you a smile.

and you still felt your heart skip a beat for him.

taglist: @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @hyuntaena @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @bb-eilish @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman @hallaween23 @run2min @clayballss @kijasite @nikimeows @tara324253 @robin-obsessed (because I thought you'd like to read ^^) send an ask, reference here

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[fbiartist]

Ziva was trained to see through lies, even good ones. Even well practiced ones. Even ones that people told themselves on a regular basis. Though if they really believed in it, was it really a lie? That was an on going debate. "I don't know enough about your species to tell you if you're wrong or not, but you're welcome to rest here for a little while. Even if you don't sleep."

"The only rules here are don't wear your shoes in here, they stay near the door. Be nice to Taco, he's my cat. He doesn't like men." There is a resounding loud and scratchy meow from somewhere in the townhouse to sound off that his name has been said from somewhere. "And don't mix up my cutlery. I need to keep my dairy and meat stuff separated."

"If you wanna take a shower or any of that, you're welcome to it." There's a glance down to where she had finished pulling out the splinters of the stake and the stake itself. She looked like she was healing up, but there was still dried blood on her skin.

@fbiartist continued

Kindness is not something Katherine gets often and it's certainly never come without a price. She just hasn't figured out what Ziva's is....

Low key she threatens Katherine. She's not compellable, and she knows what she is. She could make Katherine have to run with a single conversation. She could put everyone at her fancy little work place on the alert to the reality of the super natural.... so why hasn't she?

All of these thoughts cross her mind as she narrows her eyes at the woman in front of her, offering her a bed for some rest.

"I'm fine." Her most told lie, a well practiced line. "Days without sleep is normal for me. You're the one it bothers." Defensive, but not aggressive. The best you can get out of Katherine before you crack her fortress.

Ziva wouldn't even be this far with Katherine if she hadn't spent two hours with her little set up tweezering the wood out of Katherine's chest. She is nothing if not thorough Katherine has to give her that....

[tallulah477]

The Rumor Mill (Part Two)

Pairing: Spider x Fem!Na'vi!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Spider, Oral (female receiving), Blindfolding, Handjob, Finger Sucking, Queue/Kuru Play, P in V, Voice Kink (kinda), Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk, Slight Food Play, Creampie, Reader has anxiety and is going through it, Her entire body is made of stress I s2g

Word Count: 12.4K

A/N: Happy New Year! Starting the year off with some Spider! I threw a semicolon in here somewhere just to spice things up a bit ;)

Summary: You thought your little crush on Spider would get easier after he ate you out within an inch of your life. Instead, it gets worse. And now you can't even look at him without picturing him looking up at you from between your thighs.

<<< Part One

Translations:

Tewng - Loincloth

Skxawng - Idiot, moron

Teylu - Beetle larvae

Tawtute - Human

Vrrtep - Demon

Mawey - Calm

Yawne - Beloved

You thought that getting eaten out and having an orgasm so intense you thought you might explode from pleasure would make you more comfortable around the person that did it. It’s intimate - getting up close like that and sharing something so personal with someone else. It should erase the nerves, right? Make you more at ease and relaxed around the person who’s seen you at your most vulnerable. 

Spider made you fall apart on his tongue in just a few minutes. It was amazing. Heartstopping. A down right hazard to your ability to breathe. 

But instead of crawling off that bed in your satisfied and pleasured haze and waving at him in thanks, maybe even scheduling another meeting so you could relive the life-changing experience - you just laid there, legs still twitching as you panted into your mask for air that you felt like wasn’t ever enough to please your lungs.

“So what do you think? Are the rumors true?”

Your cunt couldn’t stop spasming, the aftershocks of your orgasm seeming to extend on forever, and you know that humans don’t have anything special that should make you feel this way. No natural aphrodisiacs that the Na’vi do. But you think that Spider has to have something that he’s hiding, some kind of trick or superpower or something because you never knew that you could orgasm like that. So fulfilling and explosive and, oh Eywa, you squirted on his face! 

He asked you that question, face as smug as smug could get. And even though you never got the words out for yourself, you know he knew your answer. His eyes never left your face. 

But your eyes left his, dragging down his body, observant and catching where the blue painted stripes on his body had just barely smudged across his tanned skin from where his chest and belly had rubbed against the sheets during his time between your legs. They hesitate for just a moment over the healed skin of his bullet scar, covered partially with one purposeful stripe. Your eyes traveled down to the bulge in his tewng and your scattered brain latches on to the thought of him reaching inside it. Your pussy flutters, clit throbbing in need again as the image of him stroking himself beneath the cloth of his tewng invades your mind. Would he keep it hidden from you? Another form of teasing as he looks down at you with those sinful eyes as he pumps at his length that may or may not have blue stripes on it to match the rest of his body. Or would he pull it out and let you watch? Let you see as he chases the pleasure both you and him know he deserves after the gift he just graced you with. Would those possibly existing stripes smear along his cock the same way the ones on his chest and stomach did? 

You whimper at the thought and the involuntary sound snaps you back to reality. Spider’s still there in front of you, sat back on his heels and the remnants of your arousal still glistening in the florescent light of the room on his face where he missed wiping it off. The bulge still ever present under his tewng.

Spider’s teasing stare twists into concern. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“I have to go,” You say suddenly, scrambling off the bed. 

Your legs feel like jelly and you worry you’re about to collapse at any moment, but then you turn around and grab your forgotten tewng from the sheets and your eyes catch on Spider’s concerned brown ones again and fuck! You can’t look at him! You can’t look at him anymore. How are you expected to ever look at him again when all you’re going to be able to see when you do is how ravenous he looked between your thighs or what you think he might look like with a hand on his cock. 

“Wait,” He says, moving to get up too. “What’s wr–”

He’s a sweetheart. A true, kind, pussy eating god of a sweetheart, and you’re a fucking coward because what are you even doing right now? 

Running. Grabbing your tewng and running. 

That’s what you’re doing right now. 

The walk of shame through the woods and back to the village feels like it takes forever. Nightfall caresses the entire forest in a thick blanket of darkness, lit up only by the bioluminescent plants and networks of living moss on the ground. You watch the beauty around you as you trek your way back and try to ignore the way your pussy still twitches occasionally in its overstimulated and overworked state.

You take a deep breath and urge yourself to calm down. 

It was just a thing. A thing. Get yourself together. He didn’t even fuck you. And even if he did, it still wouldn’t be a big deal. Sex is normal between the Na’vi - an expression and physical release. It’s not a taboo like it can be for the human’s and you have no reason to feel anything other than pure satisfaction of a job well done. This should be a walk of pride. A walk of contentment. 

So why do you feel so flustered? 

The image of him sitting back on his heels, the thick bulge trying to poke up and begging for attention under the thin piece of cloth around his hips pops into your mind again. That was for you. He was hard because of you. You could have helped him. Returned the favor with your own mouth. You could be learning how he tastes right now, how the weight of his cock feels against your tongue. 

But you didn’t. You left him there. Alone and confused and hard. 

You curse softly, voice barely audible in the expanse of the forest. Eywa, y/n, you are so stupid. 

Renu is never going to let you live this down.

Renu doesn’t let you live it down. 

She bombards you the second you’re back in your hut. You knew it was going to happen - Renu is nothing if not driven. But you still hoped you would have some time before she cornered you, crafty grin on her face and the demand to “spill all the details! C’mon, nothing left out!” on her tongue. 

It’s almost as hard to look at her as it is to look at Spider. 

“You skxawng!” She bellows, disbelief coloring her tone and you think you’ve never seen her eyes this wide before. “You just left him? He gave you the best head of your life and you just left him?”

“Ran,” You corrected, weakly. 

“Oh, that’s right. You ran. You ran from the man you’ve been ogling over since he came back to the clan. And then, not only that, but you ran before you got that dick? Are you crazy?”

“You never said anything about getting dick,” 

“I am so mad at you right now,” Renu says. She crosses her arms across her chest and frowns at the corner of your hut. She lasts about eight seconds before she peeks back at you again. “So what did his tongue feel like?”

You whine and bury your face into your hands. 

Maybe you’re being a little dramatic. 

Five days after your rendezvous with Spider shows just how much courage you don't have. He’s in the village all the time, spending time with the Sullys or helping train the younger warriors alongside Neteyam - and if you thought you saw him everywhere before, it's even worse now that you’re trying to not see him. 

You know he’s trying to seek you out. He’s tried to corner you on several occasions, especially in the first two days after you ran from the outpost, but you dodged his attempts to talk to you every time. You’d like to say your successful attempts at evading him have to do with your prowess as a Na’vi - the art of quick footing, careful movements, and pure athleticism despite not being an active Hunter or Warrior working in your favor - but you know you’d only be lying to yourself. Spider is even more athletic than you are and you think he could cut you off no matter where you try to go, force you to talk to him if he really wanted to.

He’s letting you get away - his own kind soul seeing your distress and even though you know he wants to get to the bottom of why you’re acting the way you’re acting, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

“Well, you know what they say,” Renu said when you hide in her hut after one such escape. “Big heart, big di–”

“Shut up!”

She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand why you clam up whenever he’s nearby, face catching fire whenever the sound of his name pops up in conversation or is called from across the training grounds as you're walking by. She doesn’t understand why you turn into a flustered disaster at the mere sight of him and fuck - if Renu thought you were bad before your little experience with Spider, she makes sure to tell you how embarrassing you are now. 

And it is embarrassing. 

You are significantly taller than he is and naturally stronger. You should not be cowering and hiding like you are, especially just from a little sexual tryst. Yet, the last words you said to him were a garbled slew of unintelligent syllables as you scrambled for your tewng, desperate to be out of the room that contained his scent like a relentless source meant to keep you dizzy and cloud your senses. And you can’t look at him, neverending images reeling in your mind with each glance, but you can’t stop looking at him either, eyes flicking across the village or hiding behind your fellow People to catch a glimpse of the man who is causing you such torment. 

Sometimes you wonder if humans really do have better senses than the Na’vi give them credit for. But then again, maybe it’s just Spider who is special. Either way, you don’t like it, because Spider seems to know when he’s being watched and a lot of times when you try to steal those self imposed taboo glances, you find him already staring back at you. 

And then you really can’t look at him, eyes unable to meet his piercing stare for longer than half a second before snapping your head away and sprinting back to your hut in shame. 

It takes Renu losing what little patience she had left with you to convince you to put an end to the madness. Five days seems to be your maximum for stalling the inevitable and you find yourself walking back towards the human outpost after you’ve completed your tasks for the day, escorted by none other than your traitorous best friend. 

You drag your feet a little slower when the building comes into view. 

Renu keeps a close and watchful eye on you all the way up until you close the airlock door behind you, and even then you know she’s going to stay out there for a little bit longer just to make sure you don’t chicken out and run for the hills instead of facing your fears head on. 

“Just do it,” she had told you. “Face your fears and just talk to him. Warriors have no fear.”

“I'm a Gatherer,” You reminded her. But she waved off your fact like it's a pesky insect. 

“None of that! You can do it. Plus, maybe he’ll even lay you down and lick your pussy again for being such a brave girl,”

Thankfully, no one is really in the lab when you walk in. There’s a female scientist looking at some data on one of the holographic screens, but you’re not sure of her name and she really doesn’t pay you much attention anyway. She glances up as you push the thick airlock door shut behind you and offers you a polite nod when you wave at her in greeting, but that’s as far as the interaction goes. 

You grab a Co2 mask from the side shelf and slowly creep through the lab and into the residential area. Everything inside you is telling you to turn around, nerves shaking through your entire body and come on, get it together, Y/n, you’re better than this.

No you’re not. This is why you’ve never had a partner before this. You’re practically more anxiety than Na’vi at this point and fuck - would Renu still be outside to catch you if you turn around a try to bail now?

(Yes, she would be.)

Spider’s bedroom is the third room on the left and you carefully open the door, peeking inside briefly even though you can already tell that he isn’t inside, and duck under the doorframe. You close the door behind you, twisting the knob with you as you press it shut so the lock doesn’t make the loud clicking sound it always makes when the latch catches. It’s stupid, but a part of you feels like the quieter you are, the less likely you are to somehow magically alert Spider to your presence in his room before he’s already in the process of coming in himself. It’s not like he’s got the heightened senses of a Na��vi to rely on. You could leave right now and he wouldn’t even be able to tell that you were here with his unevolved human nose. You, on the other hand… with how on edge you are right now, you know the purposeful sound of the lock latching back in place would sound like a gunshot to your ears. Better to just do it gently. 

You step across the room, overtaking the space in only a few steps, and sit on the very edge of his bed. You’re more crouching over it than actually sitting on it, but your ass still presses against the soft sheets of his unmade bed and the feel of it brings back the memories of that night. 

The sensation of the sheets against your skin and how they moved with you, caressed your heated flesh while you writhed across them, trying to survive the overwhelming experience their owner’s mouth was putting you through. The room smells just like him - a strange combination of musk and dirt and all things that you would associate with the Na’vi, but with the distinct foreign smell of human to go with it. 

Stop! Your hands fist the fabric of your tewng. Stop breathing. If you keep up your current line of thinking, then you're definitely going to book it out of here before you get a chance to come clean to the tawtute haunting your dreams. Renu wouldn’t have any hopes of catching you with how fast you’ll run. 

But you don’t want to run anymore. The constant hiding and worrying and embarrassment is exhausting and you want things to go back to the way it was before the vrrtep born of the people from another star made your brain explode with a simple flick of his tongue. 

So instead you try to distract yourself. Spider’s room is as bare as you think it could be. You didn’t get a proper look at it the first time you were in here as distracted as you were with the absolute everything about him, but taking it in now - you can tell just how much of him is in here based on how little there actually is. 

Spider is as much of a Na’vi as he can be and you know that if he could live outside permanently, becoming one with nature and the animals and sleeping in a hut in the village that he built himself without need of an oxygen mask or worry that one day it might malfunction or break in his sleep, he would. So his room expresses that. The furniture is kept to a minimum - just a bed, a side table, and dresser - but you would bet anything you have that there’s nothing actually stored in the dresser itself. But there’s some scraps of cloth on top of it, clearly being stitched together as in progress clothing. You’ve seen Spider in interestingly printed tewngs from time to time, when his favorite ones have too much wear and tear and need to be repaired. The most eye-catching was a black dyed fabric with a red face and white eyes printed on the front. You’re not sure what it was - a person no doubt, but it didn’t look human despite the face being human shaped. 

You remember the last time he wore it you stared at it for so long trying to figure out what it was you were looking at that you didn’t realize how intensely you were staring at his crotch. When Renu nudged you and dragged you out of your way too focused contemplation, Spider was already looking back at you, smirk pulling at his lips as he stared you down from across the fire. Your eyes never left your food for the entire rest of last meal. 

There’s a bowl of fruit on the side table, a combination of yovo fruit and spartan fruit that fills the entire bowl until it looks like it might overflow. You have something similar in your own hut for late night snacks. 

You try to focus on the smell of the fruit instead, trying to sniff the sweetness and tang through the overwhelming scent of Spider. But your nose twitches, unconsciously trying to capture more of the alluring scent you were trying to distract yourself from and the ache that builds between your thighs in response feels almost damning. 

The scent distracts you enough to let him sneak up on you. You should have heard him coming. You should have been able to hear him walking down the hall. He’s lived with the Na’vi his entire life, lived among them and has been a part of them as much as he possibly could be, so his footsteps are lighter and more purposeful than a regular human’s. But you should have still been able to hear him coming or smelled that his scent was getting stronger than it already was in the residuals of his room. 

But you didn’t and now he’s here. And you are too. In his room. With him. Alone. Again. 

The door opens and you see a flash of tanned skin and the swing of a blonde dreadlock and you feel like the teylu from your lunch is going to make a reappearance all over Spider’s floor. What are you doing here, you ask yourself in a panic, any bravery you had just a few minutes ago has officially run out. He hasn’t seen you yet, hasn’t realized that you're here. Maybe you can jump out the window really quick. It doesn’t actually open since the carbon dioxide rich air would make breathing for the human’s impossible, but you could probably break it open and just telepathically apologize to Spider and the rest of the people at the outpost for the broken glass. Spider could make it back to the front of the lab and grab an oxygen mask before he passes out from lack of breathable air, right?

You could do it. It’s not too late.

It’s not—

“Y/n,” Spider says, surprise coloring his tone. “What are you doing here?”

Your eyes automatically dart up to meet his startled one, but you’re only able to keep his gaze for a second before you physically can’t anymore - images of flushed skin and swollen lips and dark sultry eyes looking up at you from beneath thick lashes flash before your eyes on repeat at just the sight of them now. 

“I– um,” You start and your voice comes out way too raspy to be normal. Embarrassed, you clear your throat. “I came to… um…”

The breath gets caught in your throat when Spider crosses the room quickly, crouching slightly in front of you and reaching out to carefully grab your chin in his hand and twist your face towards his.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Yeah, feels like it too.

You feel like your heart is going to pound right out of your chest, and even though he’s clearly trying to get you to meet his gaze, his head even ducking down further to try to catch your downcast eyes, you avert them at all costs. Suddenly, his ceiling seems much more interesting. 

The hand not holding your chin moves to lay over your own hands that are twisting nervously in your lap. 

“I’ve been trying to talk to you,” He says. “You ran out of here so fast that day and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You’ve been really uh… busy lately though.” 

The lump in your throat prevents the “yeah” from vocalizing past the movement of your mouth, so you forcefully clear your throat - the sound much louder than you would ever hope it would be. 

“Yeah,” You try again, and this time it comes out normally. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just– just busy.”

You can feel Spider’s eyes on you, intense and unrelenting despite their naturally warm color, and you feel like his stare is burning a hole in the side of your face. Out of the corner of your eye you see him look towards the still open bedroom door, one of his dreads slipping over his shoulder, before he sighs. The sound pierces your ears and then those eyes are back on you. 

“You can–uh,” He starts. One of his hands stays on top of yours in your lap while the other moves to squeeze encouragingly at your thigh. Goosebumps burst out on your skin at his warm touch. “You can tell me if I was bad. Or if you didn’t like it. Some people are probably just gonna prefer the Na’vi tongue to a human’s. More texture, you know?”

“No!” You blurt, and your eyes automatically meet his for a fraction of a second before they dart away again - images of those eyes glaring up at you with such heat from between your thighs erasing every other thought you’ve ever had. 

“No?” Spider repeats. “Cause if it is you can tell me. I won’t be mad.”

Fuck, you think as you find the ceiling again. You might have even said it outloud, you’re not even sure anymore. How could he ever think that he could be bad? He has to know he’s not, he has to know. How could he not? With all his happy visitors and glowing reviews and the way he can speak the Na’vi language as perfectly as he can when other humans struggle and still trip over some words despite being fluent - you knew the rumors were true. With a tongue that talented, it was only a wonder what he could do with it in the bedroom. 

And the way he made you cum? Eywa, he would have to be blind and have his brain taken out to think that he wasn’t good.

“No,” You repeat, voice soft. “No, it’s… not that.”

“Then what?” He asks, a hint of frustration seeping out in his tone. “Y/n, you can talk to me. What’s up?”

You’re silent for a long while because what are you even supposed to say? What’s up is that you ate me out so good and now just the sight of your face makes me feel like I can cum again without you even touching me? Yeah, that’s going to go over well. 

“You can’t even look at me,” He says, and you know if you could bear to peek at him right now that the hair on his brows would be furrowed. “Did I do something to upset you? Something after?”

“No! Eywa, I just–” Your words cut off again, frustration bubbling in your voice just as much as it is in his. “I can’t— I can’t look at you,”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Spider grumbles, and you immediately feel even more embarrassed for making him upset. “Tell me why.”

It’s not a question this time. It’s a demand.

You hesitate for too long, and suddenly Spider stands from his crouching position, his hand gripping your chin again - but this time it's more firm and forceful, determined to get you to look at him. It works. Golden eyes meet smoldering brown and you find yourself at a loss of breath, air catching in your lungs just like that night five days ago. 

He’s almost eye level with you as he stands at his full height, the fact that you’re still sitting on the bed makes you lower than normal. You’re still taller than him like this. Just by a few inches. But the controlling way he holds your chin, piercing eyes locking onto yours and keeping them hostage in their depths, makes you feel like he’s towering over you. 

“You’re here,” He continues. “You obviously came here to talk. So talk. Talk to me.” 

You can’t look away anymore. He’s so close, body completely filling your vision with how close he is to you and your breath leaves your body completely as he pins you with his stare.  

“Tell me why,”

You can’t stand it - images of those devious eyes, dark and sinful but somehow also so sacred, keep popping up and tainting your mind. You close your eyes against his gaze. 

“Y/n—” He sighs, but you’re finally able to find your voice.

He’s right. You came here to be honest with him and get it all out on the table. 

“I can’t look at you,” You whisper. “Because when I do, all I see is you… between my legs.”

Spider’s hand loosens its hold on your chin and you wonder if you opened your eyes right now if you would see shock painted on his face. You don’t and force yourself to keep talking just to fill the silence.

“I s-see you looking up at m-me,” You stutter and surely you must be more anxiety than body. “W-with your tongue i-inside me. Felt so good, and it makes me n-nervous to be around you.”

“And why are you nervous?” He asks, and the smile you hear in his voice makes you open your eyes despite yourself. 

He’s so beautiful. Plump lips spread out into a cocky grin that makes your insides clench. 

“You don’t have to be nervous,” He continues, and he’s so close now that you can see the small flecks of lighter brown against the darker contrast of the rest of his iris. You close your eyes again, face heating up at his laughter. “It’s just me. C’mon, open your eyes for me.”

You shake your head and keep your eyes firmly shut. “I can’t,”

“Okay,” Spider says. He lets go of your chin and steps away from you. 

You chance a glance at him and sure enough his back is turned as he walks back across the room. He nudges the door shut, the latch clicking in place and echoing through the room as he detours to his dresser. He picks up one of the spare fabrics in the pile, a deep purple scrap with what looks like gold accents that you’re immediately sure he sewed in himself and clicks his tongue at you when he catches your gaze. 

“No peeking,” He chides as you squeeze your eyes shut again. His footsteps move closer again and you feel your breathing stop when you feel the soft fabric drape over your closed lids. “You say you can’t look at me. So don’t.”

He knots the ends of the cloth behind your head and then suddenly, you couldn’t see anything but darkness even if you wanted to. 

“You don’t have to look at me,” He says, voice so low it's almost a whisper. “Just experience me.”

The squeak you let out at his words should be forgiven given the circumstance. 

Oh Great Mother, have mercy. 

The blindfold heightens your senses in a way that just closing your eyes doesn’t. Your ears perk up to catch every sound, soaking in the barely noticeable shift in his breathing as it hints towards excitement. Or maybe it could be panic - but the confident tap of his feet against the tiled floor as he walks around you tells you it’s not panic. 

His footsteps are so much lighter than a human’s, skilled in stealth and practiced movements that might even let him sneak up on a fellow Na’vi if they’re distracted. But in the dead silence of the room, your heightened senses pick up on them easily. Your tail curls around your body as you subconsciously try to make yourself smaller, and you hold it in your hands on your lap for comfort. 

The bed dips as he kneels behind you and even though you know he’s there, can both hear and feel him clearly, you’re still caught off guard when he drops his mouth to your ear. 

“You know I missed you a lot,” His lips brush against the curve. Your ear twitches at the touch and flattens against your head. He follows it anyway, warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin as his hands curl around your upper arms to keep you still. “Tried to talk to you but you ran from me.”

His voice sounds like silk in your ear, smooth and low and beautiful, and you wring your tail nervously in your lap as he nips at the pierced curve of your ear. 

“You ran from me, Y/n,” He says again, and you gasp when he tugs your tail from your wringing hands, jerking it once just so it pulls at where it’s connected to your body. “Like a bad girl.”

The small bolt pain that shoots through you at the tug makes your pussy flutter and you sink your hands in your tewng again just to hold onto something. 

“I’m s-sorry,” You croak. 

Your mouth drops open as he strokes your tail, goosebumps exploding on your skin as his hand trails from close to the base of it all the way up to the tapered, hair tufted tip. His mouth presses against the side of your neck, humming against the skin as he wraps and twists your tail around his hand. The feel of his calloused palm and strong fingers sliding over the delicate length of your tail making your entire body feel like a live wire. 

“But you’re so pretty,” He tells you. “And goofy. So perfect the last time I had you laid out here. I guess I’m just gonna have to forgive you.”

Another rough tug on your tail just to make you jump and then he’s moving away again, the bed lifting slightly without his added weight, and you're left with your ears straining in anticipation to hear where he’s going to move to next. 

He doesn’t talk for a moment, just walks around to the front of the bed again before his footsteps veer off to your left. The silence nearly kills you. He needs to talk - you need him to talk to you. It’s only been a few seconds but in those seconds it feels like you’ve lived an eternity without his voice. You need him talking to you. Need his voice to keep you grounded because when he’s not talking, you think you might jump out of your own skin. 

“I was so sad,” He says. “When I thought you were upset with me because of something I did.” There’s the sound of something hefty yet pliable shift and settle as Spider moves something near the side table. “I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat.”

He’s back in front of you now and your hands pull at your tewng so tightly you think it might rip when he knocks your knees apart so he can stand between them.

“I was so hungry,” He breathes. “You make me so hungry, Y/n.”

You can’t help but whimper, tail swishing behind you erratically. 

Your ears twitch as they pick up the crisp rip of his blunt teeth piercing what sounds like the skin of a fruit and then the smell of sugared syrup wafts into your nose. He must have picked up a fruit from the bowl on the side table. You can hear the squish of juice gushing from the puncture and the small slurps he makes as he tries to catch it. Rogue drips of juice land on the tops of your legs and he catches your chin in his hand again, cutting off your shocked gasp as he holds your blindfolded face directed towards his, the sticky lines of runaway juice creeping down the insides of your thighs.

“When I first tasted you, I thought you tasted so sweet. So juicy. Like a spartan fruit,” Spider tells you through his mouthful. “They’re my favorite, you know. They’re delicious and I use them to make the dye for my stripes.” 

It’s so quiet in the room and your ears are trying to pick up any and every sound you can. You think if you tried, you could hear someone talking from across the lab right now. It’s not hard to catch the sound of Spider swallowing his bite. 

“It’s the only thing I’ve been able to stomach this past week. They taste just like you,”

Your heart feels like it's going to pound right out of your chest when he presses his lips against yours. It’s not your first kiss with him and you remember how his mouth felt on yours that night almost a week ago. He kissed you gently, just a slow dance of lips pressing against each other again and again. It was his way of calming you - relaxing you from your nerves. He doesn’t want you relaxed this time. The way he kisses you now is still slow but more passionate - all consuming as he slides his tongue against yours. He kisses you like he’s excited to kiss you and wants you excited too. 

Excited and breathless and dripping wet. 

It clouds your brain, the taste of his tongue and the remnants of the fruit flavor left on it. The added sweetness enhancing a taste that’s just purely him. 

He pulls away and you subconsciously lean forward, wordlessly begging for him to kiss you again. Instead of his lips, you feel the skin of the spartan fruit press against your mouth. “Here, taste it. Taste how you taste to me,”

At his instruction, your teeth sink into the fruit's flesh. Juice squirts from your bite and slides down the corners of your mouth. Spider’s hold shifts from your chin to curve around the side of your neck, holding you close as he leans in again and licks up the escaping streams with his tongue. A helpless grunt escapes you as you chew. You’ve eaten this fruit your whole life, you know what it tastes like - but somehow, coming from Spider’s giving hands, it tastes sweeter now, more flavorful and satisfying. And knowing that this is how you taste to him… you’ll never be able to look at it the same way again. 

He kisses your throat lovingly as you swallow before guiding your face towards his again, recapturing your lips and this time tasting the fruit he claims to love so much directly from your own tongue. 

You’re breathless when he pulls away again. Your eyes try to flutter open, nerves momentarily forgotten and you really want to see him right now. His lips would probably be red from your kiss - red and shiny from spit and the juice of the fruit. But the blindfold keeps you from the sight and the darkness that meets your open eyes makes you whine unhappily. 

He shushes you, pulling one of your hands from where it's still fisted in your tewng and holding it in his own. He presses the fruit into your own hand this time and urges you to take another bite. More juice spills out on your face as your teeth tear into the flesh of the fruit, dripping out over your chin and down your fingers and wrist. 

“Look at you making such a mess,” He teases, and you wonder if the double meaning of his words are purposeful. Your face and hand is a mess, yes - but does he know how wet you are? Can he tell just from looking at you how the wetness between your thighs feels like it's unbearable? Surely there’s a stain on his bed right now from where your slick has seeped into the sheets. 

You nearly bite your tongue as you chew your second bite when you feel his tongue licking up your forearm, diligently sweeping up every racing dribble until he’s cleaned everything there is and he’s moved on to cleaning the delicate skin of your wrist. He plucks the fruit from your hand and it splatters as Spider discards it on the floor, the wet smack sounding through the room as it lands on the hard tile. A part of you wants to scold him - wasting perfectly good food is not usually accepted by the Na’vi. All food is provided by the Great Mother, whether it is hunted or gathered, and all should be respected and used to the best of one’s ability. 

But the feel of Spider’s mouth on your first finger has any words you might have tried to get out dying in your throat. You tilt your head down a bit so that if you could see through the blindfold, you would see at the same time as you feel when Spider presses his lips to your fingertip. But the blindfold keeps you in the dark, giving you no hint of a visual through its dark fabric. So you're stuck with just the sensation when his lips part around the tip, lips that feel just as plump and wet and sticky as you imagined. His mouth slides down your finger, soft tongue sliding against the underside of it as his mouth sinks down lower. Your breathing is rough when he pulls off, ears twitching when they catch the small pop his mouth makes when he releases it. That tongue slips between your first finger and your middle finger, licking into the V between them to clean the stickiness before sucking the next finger into his mouth for good measure. 

By the time he reaches your last finger, you’re trying to close your thighs - just trying to find some relief in the relentless tingles bullying you in your tewng. Spider’s hips block your attempt and all it does is make you squeeze him between your legs harder. He doesn’t make any auditory or physical moves to stop you if he minds. 

“You’ve made a mess on me too,” He says, voice more gravelly now. Two of his fingers brush against your bottom lip. “Clean it up.”

Your mouth falls open with a soft groan. Spider’s finger’s slip inside, fruit sticky fingers sliding against your tongue and you listen when he repeats his command - “clean them up, pretty girl,” - lips closing around his fingers as you obediently suck the mess clean. Spider’s strong fingers stroke against the surface of your tongue, dexterous fingertips feeling the texture and slight roughness from it. 

“I’m told that women like my tongue cause it’s extra soft, but I think about the Na’vi tongue a lot.” A short pause and then - “Yours specifically.”

Did you hear that correctly? No, there’s no way. Spider thinks about you? Your tongue? 

But your ears are still working, and they hear him loud and clear when he leans in to whisper in it. 

“Like how it would feel as you suck my cock,” A moan rips from your throat at his words, the sound muffled by the fingers invading your mouth, and for a second, you can try to pretend like it's his cock instead. It would be so nice, to finally feel the thick length you know he’s keeping hidden under his tewng. Humans for all their flawed design don’t keep their parts in a protective sheath like the Na’vi do. When Spider runs or jumps or trains, you can see everything. How it moves under the thin fabric of the tewng and shifts without the security of a sheath or restraint more tawtute clothing tends to provide. 

You haven’t seen any other human cocks, but you have seen Spider’s before - in an accidental stumble near the lake while on a walk with Renu while he, Neteyam, and Lo’ak were washing up after the day’s training. It was right there, hanging heavy between his thighs as he scrubbed at his body, and you remember thinking that proportionally, at least compared to what you believed most other human’s had between their legs, that he is quite blessed by whatever god made him. 

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, a strand of saliva landing wetly on your bottom lip as it snaps from where it was trying to cling to his retreating fingers. You whine at the loss, hands finally leaving the safety of your tewng to hold onto his hips. He kisses you again, lips pressing against yours and tongue slipping inside, but this time it seems like it’s less for tasting and more just for the sake of kissing. He’s kissing you because he wants to kiss you. 

“Wish I could see your pretty eyes,” He mumbles against your lips. “Want to see them all wild, and desperate, and gorgeous for me.”

“Spider,” You breathe, belly tightening when he nips at your lip.

“But no,” He continues. “My gorgeous girl needs to be blindfolded.”

You do. Oh, Eywa, yes you do. Because you wouldn’t be able to handle this right now if you weren’t. You want to see him, want to be brave and take off the blindfold and let your greedy eyes soak in the sight of him that you’re sure if you could see right now would take your breath away. But you’re still too tense, too nervous. You would ruin any suspense and excitement Spider’s worked to build in a heartbeat. You know it and you know that he knows it too. 

But the blindfold makes you wonder, brain working overtime trying to conjure up an image of Spider when your eyes are blocked from seeing the real him. You wish you could look into his beautiful eyes too, see their warmth and intensity and have the visual make your heart twist in the same way they also make you feel safe. You think about your own pupils and how if he were to pull off the blindfold, he’d probably see more black than gold right now and you wonder if his would look the same - the pool of black growing with want as he stares at you knowing you can’t stare back at him as it explodes and overtakes all that rich and warm brown. Would his lips still be red or even more red now? Spitslicked but now sticky free from how you sucked all the fruit juice from them. The skin of his hips is warm under your fingertips and you wonder if maybe his skin is flushed too. 

You don’t know what to do, so you whimper his name again, wordlessly begging for him to guide you.

“Mawey,” He says gently. “Just relax for me, okay? You’re safe here.”

Just relax for me, okay?

Memories of that first night rush back to you in an instant and you remember how he spoke those exact words to you, breathed them over your drenched folds like a promise before he ate you out within an inch of your life. The CO2 mask looped around your neck disappears from your chest as Spider lifts it to your face. 

“And don’t forget to breathe, skxawng,” He chuckles. The extra carbon air helps clear your brain a bit and you instantly feel calmer - you hadn’t even known that you were starting to struggle to breathe. He drops the mask back against your chest and cups your cheek, thumb brushing lightly under the edge of the blindfold. “You can touch me.”

His words are nothing more than a whisper of sound, but you hear them clearly. Your fingers twitch against his sides, feeling the smooth skin beneath your fingertips, and you want to move them - want to feel the smooth hard muscles under your touch - but you can’t force yourself to leave the safety of his hips. 

Spider chuckles like he can see your internal crisis. He probably can - just because you can’t see anything doesn’t mean he can’t. He can see you. Is staring at you, observing you and taking you in. He can see every facial expression you make. Every deep breath, every jaw drop, every lip bite. He can see the flush you know for a fact is on your face, cheeks probably flaring a deep purple under your blue skin. He could see the mess you made on your face when you bit into the fruit and the way your chest is rising and falling with each shaky breath you take. The deep sound of his laugh seems to reverberate through your entire body and you jump when his hands cover your own. 

“Like this,” He says, and then your hands are sliding up his torso and suddenly, that’s all you can focus on. 

He helps you caress his stomach - toned muscle under smooth skin - and you feel when he flexes it underneath your fingers and you can’t help but wonder if it was an intentional flex just to flaunt or if it was an automatic response to your touch. He pulls your hands up, pressing your palms flat against his skin as he drags one directly up the middle of his stomach, one of your fingers dipping into the dip of his belly button while the other hand runs along his ribs. His skin is hot under your touch, miles and miles of pure solid muscle that scream Na’vi all in one devastatingly handsome human body. 

He drags your hands up higher to feel his chest and you wonder if sliding your hands across his chest and stomach are smearing the stripes painted on his body like the bedsheets had. It would be subtle, barely noticeable to a Na’vi if they weren’t paying attention and definitely not noticeable to another human unless they were specifically looking for the smudge. The dye made from the Spartan fruit is made to last. But for Spider, eventually it comes off - wipes away with bathing and the normal physicality of everyday life. You’d give anything to see if you’re messing them up now. 

Your guided palms run across his chest, fingertips grazing over one of his nipples. You’ve gotten used to the neverending canvas smooth skin underneath your hands. You’ve seen his body countless times before since Spider chooses to honor The People by wearing the traditional Na’vi clothing; so you know what his chest looks like. But that doesn’t stop you from trying to blindly map it out in your brain now, each pass of your palms against some newly untouched skin unlocking another area in the layout in your mind. 

And then suddenly, there’s a part of his chest that doesn’t feel so smooth. It’s raised a bit, bumpy and out of place amongst all the rest that you’ve felt so far, and you know without a doubt that you’ve reached his bullet scar. And this is it - the real reason Spider ultimately overcame the natural distrust that the Na’vi have for humans, something that he dealt with the entirety of his young life, and gained not only the trust and respect of The People, but also Neytiri as well. 

You’ve heard the story before: Spider reuniting with his brothers on the demon ship in the middle of the ocean after months of being held hostage only to almost witness one of his brothers being killed. They brought a man back to life, put him in the body of a fake Na’vi, and he had his gun pointed at Neteyam, aimed and ready to kill. When the shot went out, Spider jumped in front and took the bullet - the metal ball embedding itself in the space where his chest meets his shoulder instead of hitting Neteyam in the heart like it was aiming for. 

Spider saved his brother’s life that night, finally proving himself to the one person who always swore she would never forgive him for the sins of his father. But he saved her son, and he gained a mother and official family in return. 

“Love feeling your hands on me,” Spider says, and you’re shocked to hear them come out closer to a groan. “Eywa knows I imagine it way too much when I’m by myself at night.”

“You think about me at night?” You ask, voice barely a whisper, and this time you're not sure if you’re more shocked you were able to say anything at all or that Spider was actually able to hear you. 

“You shouldn’t be surprised,” He says, grin obvious in his tone of voice. “I already confessed that I think about you. Your tongue too, remember?” He drops his hands from yours, leaving you to keep your own hands where they are on his body as he grabs your face again, pulling you in for another quick kiss and murmurs against your lips. “I’m always thinking about you.”

This time when he pulls back, one of his hands sneaks towards the back of your skull. Your fingers curl into his shoulders, nails digging into the hard muscle, but he doesn’t seem to care as his own hand curls around your kuru and pulls it over your shoulder. 

“I’ve always wondered about these things too,” He says. Your eyes fly open behind the blindfold, mouth falling open too in a silent plea for something you’re not even sure of what you’re begging for. He’s just caressing the hair braided around the kuru, carefully fisted hand sliding down the silky strands that protect the most sacred part of you. But you can feel the way his fist compresses your braid, just the barest hint of pressure and your thighs are threatening to try to close on him again as the feeling goes right to your core. “Been jealous, you know? Wondering how it would feel to connect with the world. The Tree of Souls, an ikran. A mate.”

His hand trails down the braid, moving closer and closer towards the bottom and you feel like you want to jump out of your skin when his curious touch reaches the bottom tie. You whimper his name again - in warning or as a beg you’re not sure. But you feel as exposed as you ever thought you could when he flips the bottom of your braid upside down, the loose strands under the tie falling away to reveal the pink and wriggly tendrils that only you have ever been intimately familiar with. 

The tendrils stretch and wiggle in the air as they search for something to bond with, and you wonder if your fingernails are piercing Spider’s skin with how hard you’re digging your nails into his shoulders. Just the barest hint of his fingertip touches the end of a tendril and you gasp at the shock of electricity it sends down your spine. The tendril stretches desperately for his finger as it retreats.

“I always wondered what it would feel like,” 

You don’t even have time to think before his fingers are back. The tendrils act on their own, wrapping themselves around his offered fingers before your brain can even register what is happening. A silent scream rips from your throat as bright sparks explode behind the darkness of the blindfold. Spider plays with the extension of your nervous system, waving his fingers to pull and move the tendrils and it feels like he’s playing with the entirety of you - mind, body, and soul - all at once. 

“Fuck, Spider,” You gasp, thighs instinctively trying to clamp closed again as your clit throbs, but Spider releases his hold on the bottom of your braid to push your thighs apart again, moving his own legs wider between yours to keep you spread. 

“Keep those legs open for me,” He tells you, and then more gently, “Does it hurt?”

Yes. Yes, it hurts. It hurts in a way that feels so good it’s overwhelming. Hurts in the way that you know you shouldn’t be experiencing this but yet somehow you are. Other Na’vi don’t touch each other like this - at least not that you’ve ever heard. They bond with each other, joining their kuru’s together so that they can be with one another on a spiritual level, bonding for life as they join their soul with another person for an eternity together. It’s a loving experience where you feel everything your partner feels - every touch, every emotion, and every memory - shared together in a magic experience granted by The Great Mother herself. 

Spider can’t do that with you. He can’t bond with you for life and connect the kuru he doesn’t have with yours. He shouldn’t be touching you like this. It’s more intimate than sex. It’s invasive, and intense, and fuck fuck fuck the sensations are going straight to your core and you’re going to cum. 

You’re gonna cum. Gonna cum. Gonna–

But then Spider’s fingers are gone, pulled away from your kuru despite your internal protests and the tendrils' clear attempts to keep hold of him. 

“Y/n, I need you to answer me,” Spider says, free hand grabbing your jaw and forcing your blindfolded eyes to meet his. “Did that hurt?”

Your breathing is harsh as you try to force out your words. “N-no. F-feels good.”

“Mm, yeah? Felt good?”

You want to say so much more. Want to say yes, keep going. Don’t stop. Touch it more. Touch me more. Drag your fingers from my kuru and drag them through my slit instead. Press those capable fingers against my clit and make me cum over and over and over again. But you can’t say it, rendered speechless again when you feel Spider lift the end of your kuru up towards his mouth, warm breath fanning over the sensitive tendrils. 

“You know, now that I’ve felt them on my fingers, I can’t help but wonder what they might taste like,”

That’s all the warning you get before he does it, holding your kuru in a firm grip as he drags his tongue across the tendrils. You think you actually scream this time, eyes widening and rolling back into your head behind the blindfold as your core tightens, pussy spasming and gushing as your orgasm soaks your tewng. He keeps his tongue there, the wet muscle slipping through the tendrils as they try to grip onto it and find purchase. Each swipe and graze feels like a never ending climax, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body and it doesn’t stop. Doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop - his tongue on your kuru keeps you cumming and cumming and distantly a part of you worries your heart might stop with all the electricity shooting through your veins. 

Spider’s tongue slides away, breaking the connection to your kuru, and you feel like you can breathe again. Sobbing gasps rip from your chest as your body shakes, thighs trembling and pussy still spasming and you can feel the tears falling from the corners of your eyes soaking into the blindfold. It takes you a second to register that your hands have moved from pressing against Spider’s chest to squeezing his biceps, nails digging into the flesh. 

“Did my pretty girl cum?” He rasps, and oh Eywa, his voice is so beautiful. Deep timbre is made even deeper and more seductive as he practically growls at you. “Fuck, I want to see your eyes. They probably look so fucked out already. Glassy and dazed and beautiful just like their owner.”

Your ears twitch as they pick up on his heavy breathing, and then you feel it on your neck as he presses a teasing kiss to your racing pulsepoint. He grins against your throat.

“I still remember how they looked when I ate you out,” And then, almost as if he were quoting you word for word, “They’re what I see every time I close my eyes at night.”

“Please,” You whine. 

“Please what, yawne?”

The Na’vi term of endearment makes your heart skip a beat. “Want to touch you,”

“You are touching me,”

“No,” You do your best to ignore the teasing tone in his voice. “No, I wanna touch you.”

“Hmm, you wanna touch me? Touch me where?” He pulls one of your hands from his arms and drags it down his body, over his chest. “Here?” A little bit lower now, allowing his smooth and toned stomach back under your palms. “Or maybe here?”

“Lower,” You whisper, voice just a bit desperate.

“Lower? Like here?”

He drags your hand lower and for the first time ever your hand runs over the light material of his tewng. The bulge underneath it is evident and Spider drops his hand from yours, letting you take control for the first time tonight. Your hand cradles the hardness, taking a moment to let yourself feel the awe of the situation you’ve somehow found yourself in. It’s too much and then suddenly it's not enough anymore. You don’t want to feel it though a layer of fabric. You want to be greedy, feel skin on skin. You need it. Need more. 

Spider seems to read your mind. “Just tell me what you want,” 

“Off,” You tell him, fingers creeping up to try to slide beneath the waistband. “Please, I want it off.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He teases, and then you feel the obtrusive fabric fall away. 

Carefully, you bring your hand to where you think his cock is, fingers trailing down his lower belly, tracing the V until it leads you to where you want to be. It jumps under your touch the second your fingers graze the heated length and a giggle of nervous excitement bursts from your chest. 

“What are you giggling at?” Spider asks. Maybe in another situation you would have been worried you offended him. Giggling as you’ve just touched his dick is probably not the best thing you could have done. But there’s a smile in his voice as he asks the question, and you think you can picture it in your head now - how he would look there, staring down at you with your hand on him and a small pleased smirk on his face. 

“It jumped when I touched it,” You tell him like he wasn’t also there when it happened, and fuck, you sound so stupid, but you can’t help the small smile that creeps on your lips too. 

“He’s excited,” Spider laughs. “Happy to feel your touch instead of mine for a change.”

“Hm,” You hum, pleased feeling in your gut but unsure of how to respond. So you move forward instead, wrapping your fingers more firmly around Spider’s cock and feeling the hefty weight of it in your palm. 

Definitely larger than the average human, you can tell by the way he fills up a decent portion of your palm. He’s warm and heavy between your fingers and you take a moment to study the difference between human and Na’vi by feel. You don’t have any other experience to go on, but Renu has told you plenty of stories to make up for your lack of personal experience when it comes to sex. She’s told you about the stretch before, how it can be overwhelming to the point of too much for even another Na’vi who is designed to take it. She’s told you how the barbs are both a blessing and a curse and the absolute mind-numbing pleasure that comes from taking a knot. 

Spider’s isn’t like that. It’s smooth under your touch, the only real texture coming from a couple large veins that trail down the underside of his cock. There’s a stickiness at the top when your thumb sweeps over the head, precum coating your fingertips as you drag it back down along his length to wet it. You pump it a few times, listening to Spider’s heavy breathing and the undertone of what sounds like the beginnings of a growl, and even though you just came, you’re already ready to go again. 

It’s not enough - your hand sliding over his hardness feels like so much but also not nearly enough. You want yourself on him, the possessive spark in your brain telling you to claim him in any way that you can. So you reluctantly pull your hand away from his cock, your free hand coming up to curl around the back of his thigh, just below his ass to keep him close. Your other hand snakes into your tewng, underneath the soaked through material, and slides through the wetness there. When you pull your hand back out, it’s coated with your arousal, and you can imagine how it might be shining right now in the fluorescent light of the room as you bring it back to Spider’s cock. 

“Hah fuck,” Spider grunts when you wrap your fingers back around him, and the sound is like music to your ears. 

You lean forward more as you stroke him and blindly aim for his lips, needing to kiss him. The idea of you working his length and using your own wetness as the slick is making you desperate, and you land on his cheek instead just under his eye. You let out a muffled sound of frustration but keep laying pecks on his skin anyway, trailing down his cheek and over his jaw. You’ve just made it to his neck when he grabs your face, directing you back to his mouth and claiming your lips. 

“You’re wiping my stripes off,” He murmurs against your lips.

And fuck. Fuck fuck fuck - that sentence just almost sent you over the edge again.

You’re wiping my stripes off.

Your brain tries to conjure the image of his cock again, using every available piece of knowledge at your disposal. The image from the accidental viewing at the lake, too far to see any detail like apparently painted stripes on his cock but close enough to see its size, manifests in your mind's eye. Only this time, you can picture it closer - feel the weight of it in your hand and know that yes, yes there are stripes painted on it. 

What would it look like now? Are they still there? Would they still be in their places but smeared, or maybe just faded from the wetness and friction of your hand? Or are they gone completely, the only remains just some smudges of blue against the shaft?

“Wanna see,” You plead back against his mouth, but he clicks his tongue at you and pulls your hand from his pulsing cock. 

“Nope. You’re blindfolded, remember?” He lays one last peck on your lips before pressing a hand against your chest. “Now be a good girl and lean back for me, okay?”

The familiar feeling of the sheets against your back sends you back to that night nearly a week ago and without thinking you grab the mask hanging against your chest and press it over your face. Spider’s laugh makes your face heat up even more than it already is, but you’re feeling more comfortable now - drunk off your orgasm and everything about him - so you grin behind the mask despite the fire licking at your cheeks. 

“My good girl learned from last time, I see,” He comments.

The bed dips a little as he leans on it, and then you feel skilled fingers at the ties of your top. The top falls away at just a few movements and falls onto the mattress, revealing your breasts and perked up nipples. You get just a second of warning when you feel the puff of his breath on your breast before his lips press a revenant kiss to the swell of it. Another kiss to your nipple, soft and sweet, before he’s catching it between his blunt teeth and pulling on it gently. 

You hum in appreciation, arching your chest closer to him as he tongues at the spot to soothe the bite. He presses another kiss to the hard peak before switching to your other breast to show it the same attention and you moan when he blows cool air on the spit slicked skin. He moves diligently down your body, pressing his mouth against the skin over your ribs and trailing kisses down your belly as he heads to his final destination. 

He skips it for a moment, tongue running over the tops and insides of your thighs to clean up the forgotten juice drippings from the fruit, and then he’s tugging your tewng from your body, drenched folds on display for his greedy eyes and you know he’s staring - you can feel his eyes on you just as clearly as if you were able to take off your blindfold and see it. Maybe you should do it now. There’s no going back, you’re in too deep now and you don’t think you’d run. But then he wraps his arms under your thighs and spreads you wide, holding you down and right where he wants you, and you don’t have a choice. 

One hand keeps the carbon mask over your mouth and nose while the other tangles in the bedsheets in anticipation. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” He groans. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You breathe a laughing sigh into the mask. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls,”

“No,”

It’s definitive. Said like a fact, and you don’t have time to mull over what that means before his mouth is on your center and your thoughts come to a screeching halt. 

He licks up everything you have to give, groaning and growling against you like a wild animal as he shakes his face into your cunt. His tongue is so soft as it runs up your slit, exactly like you remembered it feeling and yet this time, somehow, it feels so much better. It slides across your clit like it loves it, laving across the sensitive bundle of nerves like it was designed especially for it -  to run over it, caress it, adore it. This is his skill, he’s mastered his art and now he’s performing every trick he’s learned on your poor, sopping, and responsive pussy. 

You can feel the impending rush of a second orgasm hurtling towards you with every calculated swipe of Spider’s tongue. The vibrations of his groans spur you on, pushing you closer and closer to that familiar blissful edge that you think only he could bring you towards like this. Your hands move on their own accord, abandoning your mask and the sheets as both of them reach down to wind themselves into Spider’s dreadlocks, intent on keeping him there. Right there. Right there! Yes! Yes! Right there!

“Oh, ma Eywa!” You shout, body tensing as your orgasm rips through you. Your thighs shake in Spider’s grip. “Spider! Please,”

Your pussy clenches around nothing, body jolting and writhing against the mattress as he moans in satisfaction as your clit throbs on his tongue. And even though you’ve just cum for the second time today, you can’t help but want more. It’s crazy to think about. You’re so sensitive already, but you want to cum again. 

On his fingers.

On his cock. 

On your own fingers as you take him in your mouth. 

Fuck, you want it so bad. 

“Spider, please,” 

“What, yawne?” He sounds absolutely wrecked. 

You whimper, trying to push yourself up a little, but he holds you down with a strong hand to your chest. “Wanna suck your cock,”

He sounds like he’s been knocked in the gut, the punched out sound he makes catches you off guard and your ears immediately flatten against your head. But he forces you all the way back down until your back hits the mattress and presses his still wet lips against yours in a quick kiss. 

“I want you to,” He says. “Believe me, y/n. I want you to. But I won’t last for you like that. Not right now. I need– I need to fuck you.”

Yes! Yes, you need it too. Need it so badly. Your legs spread for him automatically at his words and he settles perfectly between them. His hard length rests along your belly for a moment, warm and heavy as he presses it against your stomach. And then he’s gliding it down, the blunt head of his cock gliding through your folds, the drag over your swollen clit making you shiver. When the tip nudges at your entrance, you wait with baited breath - waiting for the moment he decides to push in so you can finally know how it feels.

Another woman in the clan who had experienced Spider’s mouth gloated about his skills, but also made sure to say that she thinks those skills end with the oral experience. 

“He isn’t big enough, right? Sure his mouth is pure perfection, but he’s not as big as an actual Na’vi. He doesn’t have the right sized part to fully satisfy that way, you know?”

You always knew she must have been wrong. Your gut told you she was. Even if Spider wasn’t as big as Na’vi males proportionally, that didn’t mean he couldn’t satisfy with what he has. And with how it felt in your hand and against your belly - you’d guess it’s plenty enough. It feels big as he presses it against your entrance, the pressure making you tense in excitement as he pushes just a little bit inside. The stretch is still enough to make you gasp, the sensitivity of already having multiple orgasms making everything even more sensitive as he works it in more. Each inch is glorious, the stretch around his girth as he pushes into you is enough to make your legs shake more in pleasure than intensity, and you moan as he bottoms out inside you, your tail flicking against the bed beside you happily. 

“You okay?”

You smile at his question. Every part of you wants to say yes. Of course you’re okay. This is perfect. Beyond perfect. 

You settle for a soft, “Yeah,” and then your grin is interrupted by his first thrust. 

You feel when his hand comes to steady himself next to your head, his other hand hitching your thigh up higher so it hooks over his hip, pushing him in just a little deeper than before. And even though you’re not filled to capacity, so overwhelmed on someone’s cock as they hit your cervix like some other woman made you feel like you needed to be, it’s still soooo good. Spider’s cock hits what it needs to hit, dragging against the most important parts inside you that make you squeal and your toes curl in pleasure. Sometimes he torments you, fucking you with perfectly timed thrusts, pushing you back towards that precipice of bliss only to pull out again, leaving you with a heaving chest and a desperately clenching pussy in the wake of his absence. And when he pushes in again, it's like the first time all over again - and you’re arching against the bed, pushing yourself down on him just to get him sheathed back inside you again where he belongs. 

You want to see him, want to see the way his eyes look as he fucks you. Want to see his lips, probably still glistening with spit and the remnants of your arousal, part with each grunt and groan and moan as he fucks into you - chasing his own high just as much as he pushes you towards your own. 

Without giving yourself a chance to back out, you pull the blindfold from your head and there’s just pure brightness. 

The overhead light of the room sits brightly behind Spider’s body, enveloping him in a bright halo as he blocks most of the harsh light with his head. Everything is blurry for a moment as your eyes adjust to the brightness after having spent so long in the dark, but it only takes a second for your feline eyes to adjust to the new light.

And what you see is beautiful. 

Spider is there above you, sweaty and panting as he thrusts inside you, eyes dark and glazed over in pleasure with a red mouth, visible teeth marks embedded into his bottom lip like he bit it to keep himself from making so much noise. Those lips pull into a devastating smile when he sees you’ve pulled off the blindfold, but his thrusts don’t stop. 

“There they are,” He says. “There’s those gorgeous eyes I’ve been dying to see. Hi,”

“Hi,” You breathe.

You can feel that coil in your belly tightening, each thrust forcing it tighter and tighter until it's threatening to snap in a second. Spider’s hand reaches between your legs and plays with your overstimulated clit, dragging the wetness around the swollen nub as he thrusts against you harder. 

Your eyes threaten to slip shut against the pleasure, but Spider snaps his hips against yours roughly making them snap open again. 

“Don’t close them,” He tells you, rubbing your clit faster. “Wanna see them. Keep looking at me. Look right at me,”

When the coil snaps and you cum, it's looking directly in his eyes. 

Golden eyes lock onto simmering brown and your pussy clenches around his cock, trying desperately to milk him for all he’s worth as you cum around him. You cry out as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, and the sound of him moaning and the feel of his release scorching your insides will be forever burned in your memory. 

Just a few days ago, he made you cum so hard you couldn’t bear to look at him afterwards.

Now? You’re not sure if you’d be able to cum without looking at him if you tried. 

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[fbiartist]

"You act like you're the only one who needs a babysitter right now." She snorted, her stare not lifting from the jigsaw, gingerly lifting the pieces she had put together outside it's borders with both hands. Cradling them between her interlinked fingers. "Consider this a mutually beneficial thing here."

It wasn't about fragility, it was about friendship. Ziva didn't know how to explain to Maeve that worry was a symptom of love. That wanting to take care of eachother wasn't a bad thing. And that her sitting with her and doing a little puzzle slowed her mind down just a little. Enough for her to not want to go after the unsub that hurt Maeve that badly.

At the moment, it didn't matter that he was in custody. That he couldn't hurt anyone anymore. All that mattered was that he needed to hurt as much as he hurt Maeve. That he needed to be held by his toes over the brink of death. He needed that fear put into his bones. She needed evidence of that before she was satisfied. But she knew that the team wouldn't let her get away with it.

"Besides, are you really gonna take the privilege of me looking at my super pretty friend?" Cue her pouting.

[ JIGSAW ]:     sender and receiver do jigsaw puzzles together. from @fbiartist

maeve is far from naive, and far from blind. she knows full well when someone is on babysitting duty: how many times has it been her? a walking, talking distraction - doing what's needed to keep one of the team from losing their mind. none of them are the kinds of people who function well doing nothing, resting when they feel they should be busy. the case is over but still she's covered in bandages and aches, the aftermath of coming too close for comfort to them needing to find a replacement. 

they're all worried. she should be offended, should be concerned they see her as something fragile. but maybe that's just how she was raised: maybe she's just blind to being cared for. so fingers gently twist jigsaw piece, twirling it before it's placed between between sibling pieces, "you don't need to keep watching me, you know. I'm okay. the case is over, there's nothing stupid for me to do."

[kitorin]

misalignment (n).

/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/

the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else. "in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."

contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)

Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.

The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.

If years of friendship accompanied by unreciprocated feelings could teach him anything, it was that, to spend time with you, lining up was a prerequisite for Reo.

Free time for you was defined by work's leniency (which seldom seems to happen, but at least you enjoyed it), and the occasional period where you weren't obsessing over a drama or book series.

After that section of the queue, was quite literally everyone else. An invitation from you meant that Yukimiya was too preoccupied with modelling, Rin's overseas, Nagi was too lazy to respond and left you on read, Isagi's busy training, Kunigami's at the gym, and Hiori didn't have the time to travel that far.

Finally there was Reo, back up plan Reo, the friend that you could go to when no one was available; the friend you liked enough to spend time with but not enough to prioritise.

He steals a glance at you as you keenly sip from your glass. Self-hatred chews at his conscience, but the livid, and tired part of him shoos it away.

It's not a very nice thing to accuse one of thinking of another so lowly, especially a close friend, however the explicit signs of him holding little significance in comparison to others seemed to validate it. You and he have been drinking for a while now, without much word other than the 'hello's and quiet greetings when you first saw each other.

It's normal, the silence. It's just how things worked between you and Reo. Neither of you were particularly social, words weren't necessary to enjoy time together, that was one of Reo's favourite things about you.

He's always tired of speaking, having to maintain flawless image, that included appearing as someone sociable and eager to speak with others.

But with you, that expectation was nowhere to be seen.

You're now adults, but this is nothing different from the quiet walks to the bus stop back in high school. The ones where he'd do his best to steal a glance of how you look, soaked within the sunlight while smiling.

Chatter permeates the bar's atmosphere gently a few clinks of glasses can be heard which followed hearty laughter and the occasional cheer.

You're first to talk. "How's university been?"

"Good." Was the workload horrendous? Yes, and so was adulthood in general. Reo knows he has it easy; he can afford it easily and could still live comfortably without working a day in his life. But he still yearns for the same feeling high school had. "Hakuho was fun though."

You place your drink down, swallowing. "I know right? Never thought I'd say this, but I miss high school. It sucked most of the time. But you and the others made it so much better.”

Reo nods, as he gulps down more alcohol. “I miss it too. How has studying been for you?”

You huff. “It’s a lot. I feel like I spend more time studying than doing anything else. But it’s good. I don’t mind since I’m actually studying something I’m passionate about, you know?”

“I’m glad, then.” Reo stares at his whisky, swirling the amber in his glass. “Proud of you. I really am. You’ve come so far, and I just know you’re going to do well.”

Growing from a clueless high schooler to a driven, impassioned, medical student. A lot has changed, years pass yet he remains unloved by you.

God there he goes again, lamenting on his paltriness. It must be a relative of masochism; he could be safe and secure at home with a good book and cup of tea, yet he’s here drinking with the source of his pain, while tethering on the border of being intoxicated with alcohol instead of heartbreak.

With each drink, a wave of euphoria swallows him up, licking up his misery as if it were sand on the shore. Rationality and emotion bicker like seagulls quarrelling over food.

You laugh at his sweet words. “You drunk? Thanks though.”

“Drunk or not, I mean it. Seriously.” Reo knows his limits, but doesn’t bother correcting you. His face feels hot, not because of the soju, but because of you.

You’ve always been pretty, to a ridiculous extent. But absurd how a few years changes you so much. Reo can’t even identify the changes, he just knows you’ve gotten prettier; that his heart races faster whenever he sees you.

“Seriously.” You echo, and nod, and smile. “I miss seeing you every day. School was so much fun with you around.”

Another hasty gulp of soju. Reo can’t stand hearing those words.

I hate you.

Is it directed to you, or himself? Not even Reo’s quite sure. He does his best to ignore your kindness, if it were true then he would’ve been addressed you with a smile in the same way you’d speak to anyone else; he would know how his name sounds off your tongue. He would mean more than a last option, and all those texts wouldn’t be left on read, viewed out of genuine care rather than basic manners.

Even though he can go on about unfair this feels, it’s ultimately his fault for still spending so much time with you. You’re supposed to cut off the people who don’t value you. You’re supposed to only care for the ones who’d do the same for you. Reo should’ve cut ties with you long ago, yet he clings onto your relationship as if it meant more than anything else.

I miss seeing you at school everyday. Your words echo, and he does his best not to choke on his drink.

Formalities, not affection. It's not love, it's your way of manners. If you truly did care you'd be spewing those sorts of words out constantly, like when you're with Chigiri, or Anri.

"Reo? You good?"

"Yeah. 'm fine." It's a reflex, he barely had time to register the words leaving his mouth. "Are you?"

"Yah. I'm not the drunk one here am I?" You chuckle to yourself, bringing the glass back to your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere. "Were you always a lightweight? Your face is so red."

"And yours is so pretty."

There he goes, ruining your night with something stupid.

"Yup. Definitely drunk. You're saying weird things now."

And with that, Reo commands, requests, pleads himself not to cry.

"You know." Another shot of soju is swallowed down by you, punctuated with a refreshed gasp. "The me a couple of years ago would've been overjoyed to hear that."

It feels as though every interaction with you accentuates his one-sided love and it stings; time with you is mere salt to the wound.

Neither of you say anything for a bit.

Reo can recall your confession, an awkward text sent after a couple of months the two of you actually spoke. There's an unspoken boundary between you two, to not being up the topic of each other's crushes or of your confession.

A fair rule, but it's harboured questions. Reo hasn't got a clue on your love life and crushes. He knows of your obsession with romantic dramas, always binging whatever's trending, screaming on social media about having to wait a full seven days for the next episode.

If only the two of you were a part of one. But even fiction would probably destine him for solitude woven of heartbreak.

"I think you're the drunk one. Why bring that up now?"

You've finally halted on drinking. "Dunno. That was my first confession."

And you're my first love—he wants to say it, it's at the tip of his tongue yet he can't muster it to say it aloud to himself or even to Nagi; let alone you.

"Well, it was an honour."

It wasn't. Because the thought always intrudes into his mind. What if you had confessed a couple of years later, or even at least two?

Or what if Reo hadn't taken his sweet time to fall in love with you, if he had told you he wanted to get to know you first instead of a simple rejection, would you be in his arms?

"Shut up. I was a stupid kid back then. I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you. Not anymore."

Reo scoffs, he can't even fantasise of the potential between you two. You liked Mikage you'd see in the hallways; rich and top of the school; not clingy old Reo who feels ever so slightly too much for everyone he cares for.

Whereas Reo couldn't care less about l/n that just transferred to his class, but would die for the y/n he discovered throughout the years.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Never thought you did." He knew you didn't.

It wouldn't've saved him from his doom of unrequited love, but the timing was terrible. The heavens should've made your infatuation and his adoration align, at the very least. Even if it meant Reo remaining unloved.

A hiccup follows a breathless giggle. "Who did you like in highschool? There had to be someone. Why didn't you ever tell me though? You had so many fans, you must've liked one of them."

Because it's you. "Because you never asked." Reo shrugs, almost impressed at his own feigned composure.

"Now I ammm." Now your words are beginning to slur. "Whooo?"

It's you. And still you. Reo could say it right here and now. You're essentially wasted and probably won't remember it. And if you did, he wouldn't mind crossing an ethical line and fibbing if it meant concealing his pathetic vulnerabilities.

Perhaps one day he'll tell you, if the uninterrupted storm ends, and the skies clear, if Mikage Reo's heart will one day stop aching for you.

"I'll tell ya some day. When I feel like it."

"What?! You're not allowed to add that much suspense—and not tell me in the end."

And perhaps in another universe, he and you can be of the same constellation, instead of being galaxies apart.

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