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consultingskeletondetective · 4 months

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Colonel's Girl

You’re the young army nurse on base and König decides to keep a protective eye on you. You don’t mind at all, the Colonel is sweet and safe - until he isn’t.

masterlist 🩷 ao3

tags: military inaccuracies, blood and injury, angst, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex

This was your first time on a real military base. You’d done field medic training of course, but this was the first time in your career as an army nurse that you’d been shipped out to base, far from home, calling a tiny bunk room your own in a building full of rowdy young recruits.

Their daily training brought them to you constantly with scrapes and bruises and concussions. They were feisty, adrenaline-fuelled young men, and you were one of the few women on base. The catcalling and the leering didn’t surprise you, even if it was unwelcome.

“What time do you get off, darlin’?” Private Turner drawled in a cockney accent as you applied butterfly stitches to a bleeding split across his eyebrow. “Maybe I can come to your room and we can keep each other company-”

“Turner!” It was barked, a stern command from an accented voice. The private paled as Colonel König stomped into your clinic, and you blushed. König was a very imposing man. He was at least 6”9 by your reckoning, and just as broad, in his late 30s or early 40s with a thick Austrian accent. His years of military training had given him a thick, muscular frame, with his broad thighs barely contained in cargo trousers and steel-capped boots on his feet, a black tee stretched over his chest and biceps the size of your torso. You knew what he looked like under that hood, square jawed and piercing blue eyes, but today he’d kept it on, his eyes framed and dark. It was no surprise you blushed whenever you saw him.

“Colonel?” He stood and turned. His voice held none of its previous bravado. Next to König, he looked like a mere boy.

“Two weeks of toilet cleaning duty.” König said gruffly, “and if I catch you using that kind of language again, it will be a month. Understood?”

Turner slumped. “Yes, sir.”

“Get out of my sight.”

Turner, chastised, scampered out of your clinic without looking at you.

König turned his hulking form towards you and actually had to look down to greet you.

“Pardon, ma’am. He won’t step out of line again.”

Ma’am . Your blush deepened. You gave him a small, nervous smile.

“Thank you, Colonel, that’s very kind of you.”

“These boys don’t know yet how to respect a lady, but they will.”

“Once you’re done with them?” You smiled playfully.

“If I have done my job correctly.” He said kindly, before turning on his heel and leaving swiftly. You giggled.

You didn’t see much of König at the start of training, his rank and his experience meant that he didn’t end up in your clinic as much as his recruits did, but when you did pass each other in the hall or by exchanging paperwork, he was nothing less than a courteous and charming gentleman. It seemed bizarre, considering you’d heard tell that he was a brawling killing machine out on the field, but he could switch from barking stiff orders to giving you a gentle smile that made you blush in the blink of an eye. You had to routinely remind yourself that this didn’t make you special, he was just being respectful, and you weren’t used to that. It didn’t matter that he was a soldier, or nearly twice your age, it didn’t take you long to develop a crush on the handsome and mysterious Austrian.

A few days later and you were stood in line to the mess hall. It was breakfast, and you’d seen the black pudding in the warming trays as soon as you’d stepped in. You were practically salivating as you waited, it wasn’t often you got a creature comfort like this - something that reminded you of home - on base.

“Not often we get this kind of luxury, eh, miss?” You recognised the coarse accent before you turned. Lieutenant Riley had joined you in the line, a balaclava covering his face. You knew him a little, the infamous Ghost. You’d crossed paths with the 141 on occasion, and you knew Riley, sometimes even Captain Price, dropped into the base to provide training or engage your services. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to make polite conversation with you. In fact, it seemed the norm here. The high rankers felt a bit sorry for you, while the recruits made you feel like a piece of meat or an object of ridicule.

You didn’t mind much, you were here to do a job, and you kept to yourself mostly anyway, but the offer of friendship was much appreciated.

You smiled a little shyly in return. “I know, right? I hope the black pudding doesn’t go too quickly. I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”

“A girl after my own heart.” The lieutenant chuckled. In front of you, two privates who had been turning around to eavesdrop on the conversation - more to get a look at Ghost, than you, you understood - burst into laughing at your admission. Your ears turned red and you wished you’d never opened your mouth.

Riley didn’t seem to notice, he was holding his gloved hand out to König, who had somehow appeared next to him in the line since you’d looked away. You actually had to do a double take. For a near seven foot slab of muscle, he was stealthy when he wanted to be.

The two of them talked among themselves in low voices and you left them to it, knowing you didn’t particularly want to hear the contents of whatever they needed to discuss.

You reached the front of the line and the private in front of you - the one who had laughed - piled his tray high with black pudding until the warming tray was empty. He turned and smirked mockingly at you.

“You can have my sausage, darlin’, if you ask nicely.” At least three recruits laughed. You wanted to shrink down so small you stopped existing altogether.

König’s brick hand clamped around the private’s tray and wrenched it easily from his grip.

“Sir-my breakfast…”

“Get out of the line, or I will feed you my fist.” König didn’t even raise his voice, the cold delivery had the private skulking off empty handed. König placed the tray back onto the counter and then he turned to you.

“Help yourself, ma’am.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks were crimson. He cocked his head, his eyes, the only part of his face visible through his black hood, looked amused. It wasn’t unkind. “T-thank you.”

König tipped his hood towards you before turning his attention back to Riley, and the pair of them moved off to a separate table. You sat by yourself, chewing your black pudding, and smiling like an idiot.

You glanced over to König a few times more than you would like to admit. He put you at ease, that’s what it came down to, it gave you a confidence you didn’t usually have around military men.

It was that very ease that left you wholly unprepared for the following week.

It was ballistics training out on the grounds, and you caught wind of an accident halfway through your sandwich.

“Come quick!’ An officer skidded into your office, “there’s been an accident - potential fatality.”

You cursed, and gathered your supplies, before following him out of your clinic and out onto the training ground. Recruits stood nervously holding rifles, their half-shot targets abandoned. A young recruit was wailing on the ground, another kneeling beside him and pressing against his belly with a jacket, there was blood on the sand.

König was towering over a young private - the same young man who had laughed at you in the mess hall, you briefly noted - and barking bloody murder in his terrified face. It took you more than a moment to realise that König wasn’t actually speaking German, you could just barely make a word out in his fury.

It was easy to tune out, you’d been out in the field before, and turn your attention to your patient. You knelt beside the terrified looking private stemming the bleeding, and carefully lifted his jacket to look at his wound while the young man screamed.

“You’re going to be okay.” You said confidently, calmly. “It’s nothing we can’t stitch up. Private, keep putting pressure on the wound, just like this, you’re doing a good job.” Just this once, you were obeyed without question.

“I will have you court-martialed, dummkopf, you could have killed him. You come onto my base, you do not listen to a word I say, and now you attack my men? You sorry piece of -”

“König,” you cut through the accented remonstration, pulling bandages from your bag, “I need your men to carry him to my clinic immediately, then you have to-”

König turned swiftly to you, those bright blue eyes visibly narrowed in the slits of his hood. “Do not fucking give me orders, nurse.” He seethed, voice ice cold with rage, fists clenched and towering over you. “You address me as Colonel, you little girl.” The white hot fury in his eyes matched the venom in his voice. You baulked, in fear, in surprise, horrified to realise tears were gathering in your eyes. You looked back down on the man in your arms and forced yourself to regain your composure.

“I need to get him to my clinic, I can’t lift him myself.” Your voice was steady, if muted, throwing your gaze over your shoulder at König and the recruits staring at you. “Please, colonel .”

König turned from you and began barking your orders at his men and within moments, your patient was being carried between three recruits back to your clinic. You turned and rushed after them. You extracted the bullet from his ribs and sewed up the damage as numbly as you treated any one of your patients. You left your makeshift surgery room with bloody hands and sweat on your forehead, surprised to find König leaning against the wall in your waiting room. He’d stripped out of his uniform to a simple pair of combat trousers and a black shirt that looked like it was losing a fight with his bicep muscles. His hood was held lax in his hand, giving you a rare glimpse at his face. It was no surprise to you that he looked exhausted. He pushed himself from the wall when you entered. Like a gentleman , you thought bitterly.

“Will he live?” He asked you, his voice soft. It was just like every other interaction you’d had on base.

“It was a flesh wound. He’ll be fine, Colonel.” Your words were stiff, and you walked straight past him without even a glance, feeling like a complete idiot that you’d ever thought he might treat you with the slightest bit of respect. You were angry until the adrenaline wore off, then you cried in your bed.

The recruit, Jenkins, pulled through the night, and the next day he was airlifted to the nearest hospital. The accidental shooter was gone, and you didn’t care to ask what had happened. Training was halted for a few days as a result and you had a quiet week, but you weren’t complaining, as you now had a mountainous amount of paperwork to complete. You were grateful when you were able to file the heft of paper into your pigeon hole to be sent off, and rewarded yourself with a sit down in the breakroom to the main office.

You looked up on instinct more than anything when the door opened. König walked in, in combat boots and a military vest, his hood over his eyes and helmet strapped to his head, like he’d just come straight from deployment. He glanced at you with tired blue eyes, but all you could see was the fury in them when he’d scared you the week before. You felt stupid for thinking someone like König would ever be nice to you. You were just the idiot girl on base.

“Morning, ma’am.” He said pleasantly when he saw you, slipping one hand into his trouser pocket as he poured himself coffee from the pot on the table.

“Hey.” You replied, voice flat, suddenly finding your nails remarkably interesting.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” Another one word answer. You still weren’t looking at him.

König shifted uneasily. The atmosphere in the room changed. Of course it did, he was used to you being a blushy, smiling, pathetic mess for him.

Concerned, König crossed the small space to you. He didn’t sit. From what you could see from your lowered head, his hand was no longer in his pocket.

“If this is about what happened…you did well, Jenkins will recover.”

“I know I did fine.” You genuinely didn’t mean to snap. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”

The conversation went dead, the atmosphere was palpable. You didn’t know whether it was his culture, or his military status, but König went right to the point.

“Have I offended you?”

Was he being willfully obstinate? You felt your humiliated aggravation grow. Well, you were in it now.

“Just leave me alone.”

There was a pause. And then another. Neither of you moved.

“As you wish.”

He left swiftly after that, and you finally looked up at the empty room. You felt relieved, but also hollow. It was almost like you’d done something wrong. But you hadn’t, had you? König’s coffee was abandoned on the table.

König left you alone, and that pissed you off even more. He walked past you in the mess hall, he didn’t glance down to smile at you anymore, he didn’t come into the clinic, even though you secretly hoped he would. Your self-esteem was pretty much on the floor after that, and the base got just that little bit lonelier.

Two recruits barrelled into your office a few days later, one had a busted lip and they both had black eyes. They'd clearly been in a fight, but whether that was with each other, or someone else, you didn’t care to ask. You stayed quiet as you applied butterfly stitches to their cuts, and they were happy enough to complain between themselves.

“You’re a dickhead, Williams, the Colonel’s gonna fucking kill us.”

“Relax, he’s not going to know.”

“He’s been such a dick lately. He put Taylor on shit detail for a fortnight for having his shoelace untied.”

“Probably because he has to look at your fucking ugly mug every day.”

“You’re done.” You cut across. “You can go.”

They thanked you and left, and you were grateful to get the foul mouthed privates out of your office.

It was getting dark outside and you were tired. You left your clinic and crossed the training ground to the mess hall. There were still soldiers out here, practising hand to hand combat under the floodlights. You gave them a wide berth.

You didn’t see the abandoned dummy grenade wedged in the sand until your foot hooked around it and you vaulted over with an unladylike grunt.

A large hand curled around your wrist and stilled you before you ate dirt. You cursed under your breath and turned inward. König was towering above you, your wrist positively dwarfed by his gloved hand. His hood obscured his face, shrouding him in the darkness behind him, all except those bright eyes looking down on you.

“You should be more careful.” He grunted, releasing your wrist.

Your eyes hit the ground and you mumbled a hasty ‘sorry’ before you scampered away to the mess hall. König watched your retreating back as you left.

The next few days passed uneventfully. You worked, you ate, you slept, you called home. The clinic was surprisingly empty. You wondered if the recruits were finally becoming competent enough that they didn’t need you every five seconds. You signed off your discharge sheets for the day and headed to the main office to dump them in the output box. You were surprised to find König in there, sans hood, rifling through a box of papers on the desk. He glanced up when he saw you and his expression wilted. He looked back into the box.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” He said. “I just need to find the instruction manual for the - s cheiße .” The papers in his hand fluttered to the ground. He bent down to retrieve them and winced, arm circling his broad torso.

You frowned and took a step closer to him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Nothing.” He replied instantly as he straightened. His movements were slower than usual.

“It doesn’t look like nothing, König, it looks like cracked ribs.”

“It’s fine, really.”

You put your discharge forms on the desk and walked up to him. “Lift your shirt.”

König sighed but complied after a moment. He lifted his dark tee to his pectorals. His deep abdominal muscles rose and fell under his breathing and you found your cheeks reddening under the sight. A makeshift bandage was wrapped around his torso, and you reached out and lifted it. His skin was like lava against your fingers. He didn’t say a word as you lifted the bandage but he may have winced when your eyes widened. The right hand side of his ribcage was purple with deep bruising and lacerated with deep and shallow cuts alike, some were healing, and some were leaving blood stains on the inside of the bandage.

“Oh my god, what happened?”

“Nothing.” König grunted. “Machine gun training. One of the recruits lost control of the barrel and clocked me in the ribs. It is just a scratch.”

“This cut needs stitches.” You said automatically, tracing the underside of the welt with your fingertip. König jolted and you took your hand away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“You didn’t.” He replied.

“I have cream that’ll reduce this bruising too-” König huffed and you looked up at him. You couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. He might as well have been wearing his hood.

“It is fine.” He said. “The bruising has disappeared a lot in the last few days…”

“ Days ?” You blinked. “Days, König? You can’t have been walking around like this for days. Why didn’t you come to me?”

There was a pause. He was trying to avoid your gaze.

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“König,” it was reprimanding, reproachful, your eyes slackened. “You always need to come to me when you’re hurt, even when I’m mad. I’m sorry.”

König’s eyes snapping to you made you regret the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. Your gaze dropped to the grazes on his ribs but your cheeks were already on fire.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you are mad at me?”

You didn’t meet his gaze. It seemed pathetic now. “You yelled at me.”

König didn’t respond straight away. When he did - “I yelled at you?”

You fought off the sudden urge to say sorry.

“When Jenkins was shot.” You explained. “I’m not one of your soldiers. I don’t like being screamed at, especially when I’m doing my job.” Your voice dropped a little. “And I’m not a little girl, I’m a nurse. You should respect that, just like the way you tell your troops to.”

You glanced up at König, he looked crestfallen. “I…” He frowned a little, as if giving up on any explanation he planned to give. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head, embarrassed, and lowered his shirt.

“It’s not important now-”

“It is important. I don’t think you are a little girl. Sometimes in battle, things like this become heated. I do not even remember saying this to you, but I am sorry. I do not think that, I truly do not, I was…one of my men was dying, I was not myself. Please forgive me.”

Your eyes met. It felt like the first time you’d looked at each other in a long time. König’s blue eyes were soft and sad.

“Um, come to the clinic, this afternoon,” you rose, flustered, “I, uh, that cut needs looking at.”

You turned swiftly and left but not before you heard König utter a single ‘yes ma’am’ before you did.

You thought about what he said as you sterilised your clinic for his arrival. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but you managed to keep your cool? Why didn’t he? Because he’s a soldier, you reminded yourself. He kills easily and without thought, he’s not the sweet gentleman you want him to be. You shook your head to yourself, that wasn’t the issue and you knew it. You didn’t care that he was a killer, or that sometimes he scared you. You knew what his easy dismissal of you meant - and it hurt.

König reported promptly to your clinic at 1pm that afternoon. He stripped out of his shirt and sat patiently down on the end of your bed and you had to pretend like having a 7ft goliath of a man stripped down in front of you wasn’t making your heart race. He truly was extraordinary.

You stitched the large cut on his ribs that was worrying you the most and he didn’t make a sound. it didn’t much surprise you, you assumed he was accustomed to pain. It made your stomach flutter with something .

He was even more impressive undressed, his body heavy with swollen, toned muscle, faded scars criss-crossing over his flesh. You had to remind yourself that you were a trained nurse just to stop yourself from drooling.

König watched you work rather intently. “You have very small hands.” He remarked suddenly. You didn’t respond, unsure if it was a compliment or not. You both lapsed into silence for another long while. It was like a form of torture. You’d never been more embarrassed in your life. You felt like a foolish little girl, trying to play with a grizzly bear. It must have shown on your face.

You didn’t expect König to talk again. He must have thought that you were insane - pathetic, at the very least.

“May I ask you a question?”

Oh. “Of course.”

“Why did you join the military if you hate being yelled at?”

You sighed and finished off your final stitch. “You don’t have to mock me, you know, I already got the message.”

“I am not mocking you. I’m curious.”

Forthright . You forgot.

You took a moment to respond, busying yourself with packing away your equipment. “I didn’t join as a recruit, I joined as a nurse.” You didn’t tell him the real reason, that it was because it was him.

“Right.”

“It’s not your problem.”

König stood, and pulled his shirt back on. “It won't happen again.” He said. “You have my word.”

Your gaze flicked to his handsome face involuntarily. “Um, here’s the cream. Make sure to apply it twice a day, and try to take it easy for a few days.”

König grunted, a ghost of a smile on his face. You could tell he hadn’t taken it easy a day in his life.

“What message?” König asked suddenly.

“Sorry?” You froze, trying to backtrack to that particular exchange.

“You said you ‘got the message’.” He repeated. “What message?”

Oh.

“Um, did I say that?” Your voice was uncharacteristically high. König tilted his head.

“Schatz, my English isn’t that bad. We both heard what you said.”

You blushed and your head dipped. You didn’t know much German, but you knew what ‘schatz’ meant.

“Well, you know-” fuck, shit, fuck . “P-put in your place by the guy you have a crush on. I get it. I got it. I won’t go there again.”

“Crush?” König responded like a lightning strike, before he fell silent. His brain was calculating, before his expression turned to…well, there was no other way to put it, absolutely fucking floored. “You like me?”

Oh, this was very fucking bad.

“Well…yeah? I thought it was obvious-”

“Obvious? Schatz, I thought you hated me.”

You blinked.

“Wha- why would you think that?”

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“You called me a little girl! In front of everyone.”

When exactly had you both gotten so close to each other? It was close enough that König could look down on you, and your heart was skipping a beat.

“You can’t like me.” He said quietly.

You frowned. “Why not? Have you looked at yourself? Plus you’re…you know, nice, and the only person in this dump that doesn’t leer at me or treat me like a stupid little girl. When people aren’t dying, I mean.”

“I…” Was König hesitating? The man who had nothing to fear?

“It’s okay,” you murmured, embarrassed. “Like I said, I get the message. Why would you want a pathetic sap like me who can’t even hear a raised voice without crying?”

“Do not say that.” König looked uncertain, his eyebrows knitting together. “You are like a...a flower. Not meant for men like me.”

“A…” Your brain couldn’t quite compute what you’d just heard. “Men like you? What does that even mean?”

“You need someone younger, for a start.” He sighed. “Someone who has seen less death, verdammt, someone who has caused less death.”

“Men like your idiot recruits, then?”

König didn’t respond.

“I have to go.” He said instead. “Thank you for the…cream.”

“Anytime, Colonel.” It was softly spoken, you watched him freeze, then you watched him go. You smuggled a bottle of wine back to your room and drank until you fell asleep. This really was a new low.

…

The days passed slowly and without incident. On the face of it, there was no difference in you, except for a notably lacklustre delivery of your care.

You were making notes at your desk when Private Jackson and his buddy, Williams, appeared at your desk, complaining of a groin injury.

You rolled your eyes and returned to your paperwork. “I’m sure it’ll feel better tomorrow, private.”

“I’m sure it’ll feel better right now if you kiss it-”

“Shut up,” Williams chuckled, shoving him, “you wanna get a disciplinary? You know she’s the colonel’s girl.”

Your gaze snapped up. “What did you just say?”

Neither of them answered you, they just sniggered and slunk off. You watched the empty doorway with wide eyes. You tried not to ponder on it. You pondered on it for the rest of the day.

…

You signed the bottom of Williams’ sick leave and ticked off the various appropriate boxes, flipping the page and hoping that was all that was required until you froze. It needed the signature of the patient's C.O. König. Shit.

You hadn’t even seen König since he’d rejected you and every time you thought about that particular exchange, your ears went hot and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

You were too much of a pussy to talk to him, so instead you went to his office when you knew he was scheduled to be out at training, and scribbled ‘ sign me please :) ’ on a post it note, stuck it on the front page and left the form on his desk.

You turned for the door with a relieved sigh and accidently walked into König’s solid chest. He was standing in the open doorway, he was the size of the open doorway, wearing his combat gear although he was unarmed, his hood draped covering his face, even so, you could see he was looking down on you. It wasn’t until you glanced up that you realised he was ducking to fit in the doorway. That sent heat right to your cunt.

“Oh, hello.” You said stupidly, eyes hitting the carpeted floor.

“Hello.” He greeted you, accent gentle. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, right, I’m in your office.” You stumbled over your words. “Um, W-Williams needs sick leave approved, he needs gallbladder surgery off base, I need you to sign the form. I - I left it on your desk.”

König walked past you, he smelt of sweat and sand and some sort of hastily applied deodorant. He seemed unfazed that you were in his office, he certainly didn’t seem to be trying to avoid you as ardently as you were avoiding him. You cursed yourself for being so childish.

He removed his hood and draped it over the back of his chair as he picked up the form. His eyes were darkened with war paint, fresh stubble on his jaw.

“A smiling face.” He remarked as he read your post it note, voice muted. “The way yours used to be.”

You blinked. “Is that meant to be some kind of joke?” You asked hotly.

“Not at all.” He replied, not looking up from the form. “It used to brighten my days.” He signed the form and held it out to you before you could really process what he’d said. “Let us hope Williams makes a swift recovery, he is one of my best.”

You tentatively took the form, mind drawn back to the last encounter you’d had with the young private.

“He called me…” You bit back your sentence before you had a chance to finish it. But the damage was done.

König’s back straightened, his fists clenched. “Something inappropriate?”

“No.” Your shoulders hunched. Why did you even bring it up? “He said I was…they’re calling me…you know…the colonel’s girl.”

You glanced up at König shyly, to see if there was any truth in it. His back had relaxed, but his stance was still guarded.

“What?” You asked.

“I told the recruits to leave you alone.” He admitted. “Or there would be consequences.”

“Oh.” You blushed. “But, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

“No, it’s not…some of the men have interpreted the order to mean I am keeping you for myself.”

You took a bold step forward.

“And are you?”

König looked at the floor. You sighed and turned for the door.

König’s large hand curled around the front of your throat before you could turn and drew you back, right to his mouth. You whimpered into the kiss. You were forced onto your tiptoes to meet him, feeling his fingers against your oesophagus with every exhale. His lips eased wetly and insistently against yours until you were dizzy, gripping his arms and pressing yourself closer.

As soon as it started, it was over. König released your throat and took a step back. You had to blink a few times to regain just a few of your senses. You were still on your tiptoes, and you could still taste him on your mouth. Gunpower, and mint.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was ragged, his accent even thicker than usual. Fuck, it was hot.

He turned and left before you could even articulate a response, but you were sure you saw his back muscles twitching as he went.

…

The deployment for the first active mission came about quicker than anyone had been expecting. It was practically a dummy mission, you’d been told, leading a team of recruits on a sweep near cartel lands for stray activity or potential landmines. Still, the atmosphere was palpable in the base, the recruits were scared, you could tell.

You watched from the doorway of your clinic as the men stood by the jeeps, ready to roll out. Riley had returned, and he stood next to König as the latter zipped up his kevlar and clipped on his helmet over his hood. You wanted to wish him luck, even though you knew everything was going to be fine. It was a routine sweep, and he was König, he wasn’t in any danger. Still, your stomach pulled. Fate was cruel. What if this was the last time you ever saw him?

You scrunched your eyes shut, called yourself an idiot, and jogged across the sand of the training field.

Riley saw you first, he knocked König on the chest to alert him - you tried not to read into that - König turned, face obscured, body heavy with kevlar and weaponry. He had to lower his head to look at you.

“Schatz?”

Your insides ached at the familiar term of endearment that you didn’t deserve. Your mouth was as dry as the sand you were stood on, and you suddenly didn’t know what to say. Don’t go? Come back? How could you say any of those things to the man who didn’t want you.

König solved your problem for you. His fingers closed around your tricep, and his thumb stroked just once.

“Look after yourself.” You said quietly.

He nodded before he dropped your arm. Then you watched as they got into the jeeps and drove away.

…

The recruits were returned to you on a daily basis. Apparently, the drop point of the sweep was particularly hot for cartel soldiers, ready and willing to engage in battle. The wounds you were treating now were not the cuts and scrapes of training, it was cracked skulls and broken bones and lacerated flesh. And the men, Turner, Williams, Jackson, they weren’t the scrappy, joking lads they’d once been, they were crying and they were scared.

You slept when you could but you were always exhausted. You were waiting for the first time one of them died on you.

You were awoken that night by a loud, insistent banging on your door. You jumped out of bed and tied your robe around yourself, already gathering your hair up to tie it back.

“What’s happened?” You called, opening the door, “who is it…oh.”

It took a moment for you to realise that you weren’t staring at the pitch black of night, but rather directly at König’s chest. He stood in a dark shirt, helmet removed, hood covering his face, head disappearing behind your doorway, but his blue eyes were bright and wild and looking down at you.

“König! You scared me half to death. Get in here.”

You stood aside and König ducked his head and walked, actually stomped, his way into your room. You prayed you didn’t have any stray underwear on the floor. His shirt sleeves were short and you could actually see his arm muscles thrumming.

“What’s happened?” You frowned. “What’s wrong, König? Talk to me, please.”

“There was an I.E.D.” He replied, accent thick. You couldn’t imagine what his expression looked like. “Ghost saw it before I did. He pulled me out of the pathway. The fucking thing exploded five feet in front of my face. I could have died. I am a fucking idiot.”

“Oh, König, you…you didn’t die, and you’re not an idiot, okay? Every soldier misses…”

“No, schatz.” He walked forward, backing you against the wall. You swallowed when his large hand came up, pressing your collarbone back against the wall. “I’m a fucking idiot because I could have died without doing this.”

One hand curled around your hip and lifted you effortlessly, and you gasped as you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist - it was a stretch, he was so broad. König wasted no time slamming you into the wall next to your bed with enough force to rattle your bones. You squeaked, but that was all you managed to do. He pushed his hood up to his nose and captured your lips with his.

Your eyes crossed and closed as you groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as your lips slid against his. This was nothing like the first kiss - that was chaste, hurried, this was luxurious, long, wet and slow, the whole world went quiet as König pressed his tongue between your lips and lapped at yours with sure strokes that had you whimpering. Your fingers tangled in his hood as he kissed you like that, and you forgot everything else.

He hitched your legs around his waist and you whined, muffled, as you felt a solid lump pressing up against your clothed crotch. You didn’t care – you ground down on him as you met his tongue with yours. He growled into your mouth and it reverberated through you, before he was pulling back, kissing along your jaw and grinding his cock against your heat harder than before.

Then his eyes were on you, piercing and bright through the dark hood, the fabric sat askew on his top lip, his lips pink and swollen with your spit.

“I want you, schatz.” He said bluntly.

“I - I want you, too.”

Your consent was all he needed. Suddenly you were airborne again, and you clung onto him as he lowered you onto the belt and knelt between your legs. The bed actually dipped under his weight and you blushed.

“K-König,” you murmured quietly.

“No,” it was short, and stiff, as he yanked your night shirt down by your collar hard enough to rip. You yelped as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room and suddenly your tits were exposed. You whimpered in embarrassment but he’d already grabbed them in his rough, gloved hands, squeezing and rubbing, flicking and pinching your nipples between his fingers.

“Hhhh, fuck.” You blushed, biting your lip as your underwear moistened at the rough treatment.

“Fuck, do not tell me they are sensitive.” König’s voice sounded wrecked.

“Please,” it was a whisper, “please be gentle.”

“Wanted to get my hands on you for too long.” Was all his reply was as he squeezed your breast again and leant down, using his hand to guide your nipple into his exposed mouth. He sucked so hard that you thought he was trying to drink your soul out from you. Your head fell back and you gasped, grinding your wet, needy cunt as best you could on the side of his thigh. König took pity on you, lapping at your nipples until they were shining nubs screaming in oversensitivity, while his brick hand - when had he taken his glove off? - cupped your pussy through your underwear. His thumb was jammed right up against your clit. You didn’t know if he’d meant to do that, or if it was coincidental, but either way you ground up onto the solid digit until your eyes were unfocused.

“So wet for me, liebling,” he murmured breathlessly, between your nipples, “you are fucking soaked for me.” He stroked you with his thumb once and your eyes slackened and you came with a shudder, stiffening beneath him as stars danced above your head.

He let your nipple slide wetly from his mouth and suddenly those bright eyes were on you.

“Did you just have an orgasm?”

“Mmm.” You buried your head into his neck shyly, thighs shuddering as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your clit twitched against his hand.

“Oh, sweet liebling.” He murmured, rubbing wet circles over the sodden fabric of your underwear. You shuddered as your thighs tried to close away from the intense pleasure, until one strong hand was on your thigh and pushing it wide.

“König!” You gasped. He was watching you intently as he pushed your underwear to the side with his fingers and pressed the thick digits through your sopping folds.

“Such a pretty little cunt.” He murmured, stroking his fingertips over your slit. It opened with every heavy breath you took, dribbles of desire wetting his fingers.

“König, please,” you whined, “need you in me. Please -”

“Oh yes? Is that so?” The side of his mouth twitched up, then his finger was sinking inside you.

“Shit, fuck! K-König, you’re so big…” You felt your cunt stretching around his finger, clenching involuntarily down around it as your thighs tried to close but couldn’t, pinned open by his solid hand.

“I know, schatz.” He replied calmly. “You can take it.” He slid a second finger in without warning and grunted at how tight and wet you were, just imagining how your cunt would feel around his cock. You whined and threw your head back, the stretch aching after months of nothing, thighs shaking. You were so fucking wet that his fingers practically glided in, his knuckles against your soft pink entrance. “I want you to come for me, to loosen you up for my cock.”

“König, fuck, I…” Your cheeks were rosy. “My god, please...please move, I need-”

“Shhh, little one, I know.” He wasted no time shoving his fingers deeper in your aching cunt, and you yelped and lifted off of the bed entirely. König growled in disapproval and used the hand on your thigh to pin you down to the bed, keeping you still as he ploughed his fingers in and out of you. You moaned deliriously at the sudden intense, rough pressure to your sweet spot, watching the way König’s large hand was like a blur between your legs.

“I’m-” You couldn’t even say it before you were coming with a wet moan, your release splashing against his wrist and dripping all over the bed.

“Scheiße, liebling, making such a mess for me.” His fingers were still hard and circling your engorged sweet spot. Your body seized in panic as you gripped his wrist with all your might to try and still him. All you achieved was watching your own arms shake as he fingered you mercilessly. The noise was obscene, soaking wet come and slick filthy between your legs and soaking his hand as you squirted again, streaming down his arm with a mix of clear and white desire. You moaned and gasped and sobbed, the pleasure intense and spiralling, your pussy already felt worn out from the rough treatment.

“König, please,” you begged, “it’s too much-”

“Again.” He commanded, hand leaving your thigh and curling around your throat. “Want all of that squirt out of you.” he pinned you to the bed by your neck, using the change in position to drive his fingers roughly home deep in your aching, spent cunt. He didn’t stop when you came, and he didn’t stop when you came again - your eyes in the back of your head, body on fire with ceaseless pleasure, the bed beneath you soaked with your own humiliation. All you could do was take it, and shudder violently.

Finally, König pulled his fingers from your gaping hole and slapped your cheek lightly, it was a wet noise and you blinked.

“Come on, little girl, do not give up on me.”

“König,” you slurred, heaving. “I…fuck, so good, never…I can’t…”

“Oh sweet one,” he cooed, crowding between your legs, pulling your thighs over his hips. “Fucked you stupid and I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”

You managed a tired smile as you traced your fingers down the front of his stab vest. You watched him drag the zip of his trousers down, rubbing just the once over the lump there before dipping in and pulling his cock free. It took him three tries - to extract the full, erect length of himself from the tight compression of his protective cup, before he was letting it hang heavy between his legs.

“Fuck, König- you’re so big.”

“I know, baby,” he stroked the length of his long, engorged cock from length to tip and your eyes widened, cunt throbbing between your legs in your desperation to feel it deep in you.

“König, please,” you begged, digging your heels into the small of his back, your wet cunt pressed up against his balls, inviting, begging him in, “my pussy - please -”

He chuckled before pressing the head of his foreboding cock against your clit and you trembled and cursed. He lent over you, hand squeezing your breast, the ends of his dark hood tickling your neck as you felt the hot, solid crown of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your eyes were wide, nervous, feeling the pressure, the give, then the hot length sliding home inside of you.

You gasped and arched, clenching around him and his biceps shook where he held you.

“Fuck, schatz, fuck, not so hard, you will make me come.”

“C-can’t help it.” It was a whine, rolling your hips and digging your heels in harder, trying to pull him deeper. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He panted, regaining some of his composure and locking his hand around your neck once more. His hips began to piston and you weren’t prepared for it, the shift of his massive cock in your tight walls making you moan and clench and writhe. Your cunt was obscenely wet, and every noise was a squelch that made you blush, until he was pounding into your sweet spot and you forgot everything.

“Fuck, König, fuck-” it was breathless, eyelids fluttering as you clenched and groaned and sprayed his cock, his balls, with your release. “I can’t - can’t stop, fuck,”

“Guh, fuck.” He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. His cock not slowing, pounding you like he was trying to nail the mattress beneath you. “So tight, liebling, your pussy is drawing me in. I’ve waited so long for this.”

You couldn’t ask him to explain, you were too busy coming, your world zeroed down to the tip of König’s dick abusing your swollen sweet spot. He curled his fingers under your knee and held your thigh up by your collarbone, exposing more of your vulnerable cunt to him as he thrust hard into your aching walls.

Your moans were broken and never ending, blushing and squirming in delirious agony as you gushed and creamed on his cock, feeling your hot release on the backs of your thighs.

“Look at you,” König didn’t even have the decency to sound exerted as he took you apart. “You can’t stop coming, can you, schatz?”

“No.” There were tears in your eyes, your fingernails digging into his arms, holding on for dear life. “You need, please -” Your mouth fell open as you came again, the splash of your squirt explosive and filthy, “you need to come, please, I can’t, can’t come again, please, König, please.”

König framed your jaw with his hand, stroking along the bone as he slammed his hips into yours, forcing more of your come straight from you with a grunt.

“Nearly there, schatz.” He said into your mouth. “Just a little bit longer.”

“Fuck, please,” your walls clenched and contracted again, vaulted over the edge and nearly losing consciousness, clenching your fucked out cunt tight if only to help him get there. “Please, come, come in me, fuck.”

“Scheiße,” he groaned, cock jamming in your tight cunt as you came so hard you nearly pushed him out. He shoved his way back in and you wailed. “You want me to come inside? I’m not wearing…”

“König, please,” it was pathetic, and he couldn’t deny you, watching your sobbing eyes with his piercing blues as he slammed into your weeping cunt for a few more torturous minutes, then his forehead was pressed to yours and he groaned as he spilled inside you. He was so deep you couldn’t feel it, but you could feel his cock twitching, and you could feel yourself clenching and coming so hard you forced dribbles of his white come straight back out of your slit and dribbling down between your cheeks.

König was breathing heavily against you as he held himself, forehead against yours, body framing yours, and you watched him as you shuddered and tried in vain to relax. He was…there were no words for it.

You let your hands trail down his clothed back, feeling the solid and bunching muscles there, feeling his cock heavy in your squirting pussy and wondering how the hell this had happened.

“König,” you had a warm, dizzying smile on your face. “You came back.”

He nodded mutedly, face partially obscured by his hood, as he stroked along your jaw, then your lips, and let his hulking body fall and rest beside yours. “Thought you might not want me.”

You shook your head, curling into his chest the best you could. He was still inside you.

“Want you, always. Don’t-'' He'd already curled his bear arms around you, drawing you into his warm chest and cutting you off. You were suddenly so overhot you couldn’t remember what you were going to say.

“I’m sorry I upset you, liebling,” he stroked along your back, his blue eyes slack. “I have always wanted you to be mine. From the moment I saw you.”

This felt like a fever dream. It couldn’t possibly be real. You couldn’t possibly be this happy.

“I’ve always been yours, König, I still am. If you still want me.”

He tilted his head as he watched you, lips pulling up, and you blushed.

“What?” You asked.

“You,” he said simply, voice warm like honey, “are smiling again.”

#fanfiction #call of duty #cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #smut #cod smut

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buckyalpine · 5 months

Text

Imagine shy beefy Bucky being the little spoon. He feels like he should be the one cuddling you since he’s so much bigger but he loves when you hold him instead.

However.

There’s this one thing you do that always makes him blush and flustered and he just doesn’t understand it.

You love rubbing his tummy.

You hold him from behind, peeking over his shoulder because you love how peaceful he looks when he sleeps. You know he's not actually asleep because his abs are still tensed, worried over how you'd feel with the beefiness that covers his muscular body.

He’s self conscious when your hand slips under his shirt, rubbing his soft but firm tummy up and down; his skin is so warm and you love how plush he is. He’s still getting used to the fact that he isn’t as trim as before. Not that he’s unfit. Quite the opposite. He’s a thick hunk of muscle mass. You can feel the iron like hardness that runs under his skin whenever you're pressed against him. He's so large and perfect to snuggle up with; your grabby little hands love finding their way to his stomach.

"Doll-" He whispers with pink dusted cheeks, holding your wrist away when you sneak over his waist, stroking your skin, "Doll, I- I'm not-" He struggles to get the words out, embarrassed he's not lean like Steve, "Baby, I-

“Shhh, I love you like this” you coo, kissing his shoulder. He shrugs, still not believing you. You tell him how much you adore him every time but he can't help but think back to the time where he was pure muscle without any pudge.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to pretend, I wish I was-"

You shake your head, pressing your lips to his to stop his spiral.

"But you're my big boy" You pout, shuffling over till your straddling him, forcing him to lay back. You huff, pulling his shirt up exposing him, shimmying your hips down so you can curl up on top of his bare torso like a little kitten. You let out a content sigh, pressing your face into his stomach, peppering kisses all over before peering up at him.

"I love your body so much baby" You say sincerely, kissing just below his belly button again for emphasis. "You're so warm and soft and strong, my perfect bear"

Bucky can't help but melt over the way you melt into him, your smaller form using him as a pillow to your hearts content. If you liked him like this, always kneading away at him or trying to burrow yourself into him, who was he to say no?

Cause imagine how fucking hot he'd be when he finally embraces how good he looks with a lil beef. Imagine he stops trying to cover up with large hoodies and henley's. He works out shirtless more.

You're not the only one who drools over him anymore.

All the other trainees can't help but swoon whenever they see him at the punching back or pumping with weights. You have to claw them off him from trying to climb up his legs, desperate to have Sargent Barnes carry them with one arm with ease.

Even the other Avengers can't help but cat call at him because he looks fine af.

Sometime he lets his hair out or ties it half up along with his scruffy cheeks and Tony's taken to calling him a man slut for walking around like that.

"Tony, I don't think thats what slut mean-

"I know what it means. You're telling me he's flaunting all that around and he doesn't know he's hot while doing it? He doesn't know he's getting all this attention?"

Bucky snickers to himself while you coo over your handsome boyfriend, wrapped around him like a koala while the others watch in amusement, your hands skimming all over his body and scratching his beard.

"See? Told you you're perfect like this, big boy"

Imagine he knows you find comfort in him and he no longer feels conscious over it. Whenever your sad and in need of cuddles, he holds you nice and close, usually sans clothing, all skin to skin contact.

He knows you're a little pervert and he'll give into your puppy like eyes, sometimes letting his towel drop after a shower while you grin, shamelessly watching him.

"You're staring again, you little creep" Bucky snorted while applying lotion, dropping his hands when he felt yours paw at his back to take over.

"Just a creep for you, handsome" You quip before continuing your journey exploring his body, moving your hand to his front, deciding to wrap around his co-

Anyway, I love this beefieee babieeee

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weebsinstash · 3 months

Text

Sitting here watching that clip of Valentino with that demon girl going "you're gorgeous! Do you need a job? 🥰" and started thinking of Val either intentionally or unintentionally making Reader feel massively insecure and ugly and Val using that to manipulate them

I've mentioned "oh what if your job is serving him drinks at his club" but what if he also starts dragging you along when he goes out like some kind of weird PA. Like he's just throwing random bills at you that he clearly isn't counting like it's pocket change in a very "yeah sure whatever just do it bitch" kind of way so you put up with it, it's good income, but it's still... WEIRD. He's going to get his antenna done at the salon, and you're like. Having to STAND THERE beside his chair, you're not even in the lobby waiting room, you've gotta be WITH HIM, and you just get all these windows into his cunty personality where he's spoiled and mean to service workers and is a total fucking diva and it's extremely off-putting I'm sure

He's in a night club hitting on people whose bodies are absolutely insane like I'm talking GYATT city, ass and titties, you've got twunks and you've got hunks, and you're like, in sneakers, off to the side, head down playing games on your phone since you can't even put earbuds in because you unfortunately have to keep an ear open since he'll order YOU to bring drinks, not just for him, but for these complete strangers who don't even work for him too, AND he'll let them be fucking mean to you. You bring some bubble butt twink who's on Val's arm the daiquiri he asked for and he gives you a very clear look up and down before laughing, cuddling up to Val, "yeah I can SEE you need new employees 😋" and they all laugh Including Fucking Valentino

I dunno, I'm on the fence. It really changes with the story. You get the yandere who are obsessive but more abusive-adjacent and then you have the more true-blooded kind that won't accept any slander of you at all. Like can you imagine Valentino's smile just dropping off his face because some chick like, tells you you have cellulite or even something MILD like your mascara is bad or idk what are, male insults.... you have a flat ass??? And Valentino just instantly shoves them away "okay you're done bye, let the door hit you on the way out 🤭"

But today we're talking about angst and feeling fucking miserable so. Over time it just, makes you feel so horrible about yourself to go to these nightclubs. It isn't even about fucking Valentino, it's about how you're sitting here watching everyone EXCEPT YOU receive all this fawning and compliments and attention, even if Val is faking some of it just to lure in more workers. You see a girl who has the perfect skin and you run fingers over an ice pick scar on your cheek, male reader sees a guy who's tall but muscular with nice facial hair and you feel your own baby face and smaller build, there are people thinner than you, curvier than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and you watch all of them get called gorgeous and beautiful and handsome and sexy and you're just the fucking dweeb who gets teased, mocked, BULLIED

One night Valentino is sitting there talking to another girl, "oh my gosh, honey, I would TOTALLY do body shots off of you. Hey, can we get some shots over here? .... helllooooo, I SAID can we get some shots? ...bitch if you make me repeat myself again--" and he looks over and you're not even there. It's like ice. Suddenly without warning you're not there and he doesn't know what to do because you're ALWAYS there and whenever you're not it's because he LETS YOU leave??? Like??? He's immediately standing up even if it knocks away the people hanging off of him and he's looking around, "you BETTER be in the fucking bathroom--"

And over the crowd of people he sees you on the opposite end of the club, as if you were actively trying to put as much distance between you two as possible, and you're with a guy, some big furry monster boy, and you laugh with a big smile and Valentino GRINDS his teeth as he realizes it's been ages since you laughed around him, let alone at anything HE'S said, and you're actually drinking with this guy where you would always be way too stiff and cautious around Val (although he also really wouldn't let you drink anyways, being more of a waiter when you're 'on the clock')

Obsessed with the idea of Val making Reader carry around combs and brushes to comb his antenna/fur and Val sees you using them on another guy. like I think he'd go absolutely violently fucking crazy honestly because 1. Those are HIS and he is a bougie Gucci material man like those are high quality things being used on some RANDO 2. Those are for HIM, you're using them on someone ELSE 3. The person using them on someone else is YOU, YOU'RE brushing another man, YOU'RE cuddling another man like some kind of UNGRATEFUL WHORE--

When I say you suddenly look up and you're being GRABBED, HAULED UP to your feet by your arm, grip on you so tight it's ready to fucking bruise, and Val just shoots this guy in the head, like cartoonishly powerful gun just splatters the dudes head from what should have been just a single bullet hole I'm sure. You're like vaguely traumatized and trying to tell yourself the man will regenerate and be fine but now Valentino's got a gun in his hand and he's furious and you just start CRYING. He doesn't even CARE about the people he was flirting with anymore, if he has any employees in the club with him he doesn't even call out that it's time to go, he just starts DRAGGING YOU to the limo and will just LEAVE EVERYONE there because he's in such a rage, also, have you guys seen the posts where people point out there are moth squeaking effects when he speaks sometimes. So he's just fucking mad, voice cracking, shouting, squeaking, and i think it'd be funny if he spends like 15 minutes screaming about THE GUY while he has you like all but glued to his lap on the ride home and doesn't say a single thing about what you did. Just manic ranting on his phone as he HAS to call Vox, "oh my god you wouldn't FUCKING BELIEVE what this piece of shit did in front of me, the ugliest fucking guy I've ever seen was--" and you're like trembling wondering when he's going to pivot and realize like, you were also. Intentionally willingly sitting with that guy.

But he doesn't even like. Acknowledge it that way. He just keeps ranting about the guy touching something that doesn't belong to him, he's gotta replace all his fucking combs now, oh my GOD Vox like SERIOUSLY-- and then it's probably Vox that's like, with a disinterested voice, "sooooo.... WHICH whore did this happen to again???" And Valentino without hesitating just straight up says your name, "the nerdy one, you KNOW which one I'm talking about"

And that's when you just start to blubber cause you're tired and you're tipsy and you're mentally worn down, "oh OF COURSE I'm 'the nerdy one'!! You drag me all over the fucking place and I never get any time to myself and I have to WATCH everyone ELSE have fun, and when I finally find someone who calls ME cute, calls ME pretty, you fucking SHOOT HIM!" and you're just, face in your hands crying and you can't see it as Valentino GRINS like some fucking MONSTER because, "Aw, pobrecita, is that what this is about? You're lonely? ❤️w❤️"

And you're just mad and crying and pouting and you're telling him to go fuck himself and actually starting to get a little mouthy and have an attitude with him and he doesn't even care because how upset you're getting is going right to his head. even if you don't want to, you're jealous of him giving other people attention instead of you, and now he's watching you get all upset and sniffly over it and he's so full of himself, this makes him feel so powerful that he's reduced you to this insecure bawling state, and he's rubbing your shoulders, "awwww, don't cry mami, you should've told me you were wanting some 'attention'"

At this point you could be literally slapping his hands away but he's gonna keep pulling you close to him on purpose and NOW, now he's laying on all the fucking compliments, stroking the tops of your thighs. He knows exactly what scent you're using in your hair. Oh, you're wearing the nail polish you bought during one of your first months here; he's always liked this color on you. He's commenting and bringing up things you didn't expect him to notice let alone remember about you and... you're just so weak to it.... you're lonely... and he's here... and maybe it's the smoke or his cologne or what but he smells so good, he's so close, your head feels a little funny--

The rest of your night blurs together after that, but when you wake up, you're not at your place, or the studio, or anywhere you mildly recognize. You're in a bed way too big for someone your size, and you're especially not used to SOMEONE ELSE BEING IN IT WITH YOU. Val just has you caged in all of his arms and is passed out drooling in a post alcohol, post drug, post fuckathon coma, and you can FEEL in your muscles and in your body that you two were up to some wiiiiiild shit together.

IF you may manage to sneak out of V Tower without being stopped or caught, it won't make hin suddenly forget all the things you told him, or him now knowing how it feels to have your hands on his body, or how it looks to have your big sad wet eyes looking up at him and then sparkling with one of his compliments. Usually he WANTS bitches to be gone when he wakes up but, this time? When those eyes open and you're not there? Instantly feeling rejected, mad, irritated, he can't exactly identify why, he's just MAD you ran off without telling him and he's instantly blowing up your line to figure out where you are, and now you have become a recipient of The Voice-mails

"Heeeeeeey, baby, so, it's so funny but I just woke up and I can't find you in the tower? Did you run off to get breakfast somewhere? You KNOW you shouldn't run off without telling me first; I need you to come on back here ❤️"

"-- so answer your phone you fucking SLUT!! You better not be with another fucking guy, or I swear to fucking GOD--"

"--It just stresses me out that there are so many different kinds of people down here, I worry someone might hurt you, amorcito. I can't help protect you if I'm not there, soooooo, why don't you just, tell me where you are--"

"Is this fucking funny for you, you cunt?! You get all worked up about how PATHETIC AND SAD you are and then leave me? Leave ME? ME?! You're LUCKY i even TOUCHED YOU AT ALL--"

"Heeeeeeey, oh my gosh so this is so funny ummmm, Vox just let me know that Velvette borrowed you for something, soooooooooo, please don't listen to any of those other voicemails, ok? You know how CRAZY you make me, right? Don't forget you have a shift tonight, and if you even think about not showing up, I have some hellhounds that know your scent already and they'll drag you back here by your hair, sooooo, see you later love you byeeeeee ❤️"

#yandere hellaverse #yandere hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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euphemiaamillais · 3 months

Note

modern!buzzcut coryo teaching innocent!reader how to suck his cock the way he likes it :(. and he’s all cocky cause reader’s never seen a dick irl and she praises it like “ur so big, coryo :((“ “it’s so pretty”

coryo is reader’s tutor in university and she’s always had a bit of a crush on him cause he’s so handsome, smart and confident

UGHHH need a little blurb about this pleasee

🎀 anon this is insane tysm for this prompt

mdni | coryo teaches you to suck him off

you’d had the biggest crush on coryo since he’d been assigned to you as your tutor—he was probably the hottest guy you’d ever seen; icy blue eyes, toned arms and a blonde buzzcut. normally you went for the more quiet, boy-next-door type; but you couldn’t help but be attracted to him, there was something about his more dangerous nature that tempted you—that made your core burn.

you two had gotten considerably close compared to the other students he tutored, and one evening he asked you for a private study session at his apartment. you were nervous, but also brimming with excitement. you were only nervous because you really liked him, but you were a virgin and if he tried anything, you were worried you’d be clumsy.

you made sure to look extra nice—and put on your tightest shirt and a tiny mini skirt, hoping he’d catch sight of your lacy underwear if you had to bend over. you even put on a little lipgloss, one that smelled like strawberries.

when you knocked on his door, he was dressed in a white shirt that stretched across his muscular arms and toned chest, and the look he gave you when he cast his gaze over your body made your heart thump. he couldn’t stop looking at your thighs, the way your mini skirt barely stopped past your ass. fuck, were you doing this on purpose?

‘hi coryo,’ you greeted him with a hug, and he got a whiff of your apple shampoo as you wrapped your arms around him.

he had to draw in a deep breath as he felt your boobs pressing against his torso; afraid that the blood would rush to his cock from the way you were being so touchy.

‘i thought we’d work on some political theory,’ he said, trying to distract himself from how fucking good you looked.

you nodded shyly, too consumed by the thought of how big his arms felt around you, how his hands brushed against your waist. you couldn’t believe he was hot and smart—to be honest you didn’t really care much for your political science class but seeing him made you work harder.

as you bounded down the hall to the living room, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the way your little skirt swished against your ass—revealing the pair of lace panties you were wearing. he decided you were definitely trying to do this on purpose.

it was boring, going over different democratic processes, and you felt yourself yawning as he droned on and on. all you could think about was how much you wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss him… or perhaps do more. you’d never seen a cock before, but you wanted to know what it felt like—to suck one, perhaps…

‘are you listening to me?’ you heard the voice of coryo call out, bringing you back to earth.

‘sorry,’ you pursed your lips, casting an apologetic look.

coryo shook his head, but decided to let you off—after all, there were more interesting things he could be doing this evening. your skirt had hiked up around your thighs, and you could see him staring. your cheeks turned pink, embarrassment flooding to them.

‘are you bored?’ he inquired, and you tilted your head ever so slightly.

‘y-yes,’ you admitted, eyes glancing down at your feet.

being aware that he was looking at you had made you nervous—suddenly you felt very conscious of the fact that you were wearing a tiny skirt, and that your shirt was stretching against your breasts. coryo leaned in closer to you, breath brushing against your cheek. you could see desire brimming in his icy gaze, and felt one of his hands snake to your lower back.

‘what do you want to do instead?’ he murmured.

your lip trembled, he was so close to you, his hand moved down to cup your ass—you were so innocent, the way you were bashfully gazing up at him.

‘um…’ a giggle escaped your lips. ‘i don’t know…’

he cocked a brow, smirk crossing his lips. he didn’t believe that, not with the way you were dressed, not with how you didn’t try to push him away when he squeezed your ass.

‘you sure about that?’ you shook your head in response, pretty eyes filled with nervousness. you were waiting for him to say something.

coryo felt his cock hardening as you shifted a little, hand accidentally brushing against his crotch. his lips parted, and he brought your own against them, enveloping you in a kiss. you opened your mouth, letting your tongue brush against his, making pretty noises as he kissed you hotly.

you’d never gone further than a few drunken makeouts with boys, so when you moved into coryo’s lap you were quite surprised at the feeling of something hard poking against your thigh. when you pulled away, cheeks flushed, chest heaving from your pounding heart, he had a lustful look drawn upon his face.

‘look at that, you’ve made me hard,’ coryo whispered against your ear, his hand still pawing at your ass.

‘sorry,’ you were still red, but you felt a wetness beginning to form between your thighs.

‘mhm, i don’t think you’re very sorry, are you princess?’ he teased, nipping at the soft skin of your neck. he wondered if you’d ever been given a hickey before.

‘no…’ you admitted, lashes fluttering.

how cute. the way you were all rosy-cheeked and nervous at the sight of him being hard. he let out a low groan as you moved your hips down against him—unconscious of what you were doing, of course. you only realised what you were doing when you felt his boner pressing right against your cunt.

‘you know… i could get you some extra credit if you do something for me.’ he offered. you perked up at the thought of that—extra credit. you really hated your political science class.

‘what do you want me to do?’ your brows were furrowed, an innocent look painted upon your features.

‘you know how to suck cock?’ he asked, and you shook your head, drawing your lips into a thin line.

you wanted to do it, though. you wanted him so bad that your panties were soaked, and you were sure he could feel it. the way you were moving your hips ever-so-slightly and clenching your thighs to ease the tension.

'course you don't...' he thumbed the flushed skin of your cheeks, a smile creeping upon his lips at the thought of corrupting you. 'gonna teach you how, yeah? i'm your tutor for a reason.'

your eyes widened, and he couldn't help but sigh at how fucking innocent you were. but he saw a level of desperation inside of you too, a need for him and his cock.

'now, princess, you're going to get on your knees, yeah?' his voice was soft as he directed you, pulling you off his lap so you could kneel before him.

when you'd obliged him, you gazed up at him, dumbfounded, and he took your hand and guided it to his bulge. he was so hard—painfully so—and the way you were looking at him, so eager to please, only made him throb all the more.

'see how fucking hard you've made me?' you nodded, giggling with delight as you palmed his clothed cock.

'i wanna suck it now,' you said, a little demanding.

he smirked, and moved your hand to the waistband of his jeans, directing you to unbutton them. you obeyed, and slid his jeans down to reveal his black calvin klein boxers—a man with taste, obviously. he looked even bigger now through his underwear, and you audibly gasped, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth with a hunger.

'is it gonna fit?' you asked anxiously, brows arching.

'course it will, princess,' he remarked, thinking about how much he'd love to see you gagging around him with those pretty pink lips of yours—he loved how they'd tasted of strawberries when you'd kissed him; so deliciously innocent.

you tugged at the waist and of his boxers, and when his cock sprang out your mouth stretched open in shock. he was so big. like, unbelievably big. not that you’d ever seen a cock before but you couldn’t fathom how it was supposed to fit in your mouth. the tip was red and leaning against his shirt until you reached out to grab it with your hand.

‘it’s so pretty,’ you smiled up at him, singing praises.

‘yeah? you wanna put it in your mouth?’ he suggested, and you gnawed nervously at your glossy lips.

‘what exactly do i have to do?’ you inquired, furrowing your brows. you looked so cute and confused that he had to clench his thighs to stop himself coming at the sight of you. that would be humiliating.

‘give the tip a lick, princess,’ he guided, and so you obliged.

you moved your head down, one hand gripping the base. you liked how it felt in your hand, warm and pulsing. you could almost giggle at the feeling, you wanted to take it all the way down your throat so bad but he was just too big. you stuck your tongue out, and gave the tip an experimental lick, licking up all the precum that coated it.

coryo let out a soft groan, moving his hand to smooth your hair as a gesture that you were going well. you licked the tip again, and then gazed up at him, eager to see his response. his mouth was stretched around another sound of pleasure, and his hips twitched ever so slightly at the feeling of your wet tongue.

‘it’s like a lollipop,’ you giggled, and he felt himself throb at your innocence. you just couldn’t help being so cute, could you? so fucking naive that you were in university and you’d never even sucked cock before!

‘now, i want you to take me properly,’ he begun, and you watched as he instructed you. ‘wrap your lips around me, yeah? see how far you can go.’

you obliged, making sure to push your top lip behind your teeth, realising that would probably hurt the sensitive skin of his shaft. you moved your head as far down as you could go, and when he hit the back of your throat you gagged and your eyes welled up with tears automatically.

his cock twitched in your mouth. you’d barely taken in two inches of him and already your mouth was full, lips stretched wide, pretty eyes watering. he watched you attempt to push yourself further, but it was too much, and you gagged again.

‘too big,’ you whined, a few tears trickling down your cheek.

he swiped them away with his thumb, and shook his head.

‘you gotta move your head up and down, princess,’ he guided you back to wrap your lips back around the tip. ‘try use your tongue too, laying it flat against the shaft as you bob your head.’

you moved your tongue against his shaft as you bobbed your head up and down, and watched as he let out a breathy moan. you attempted to take him further again, this time you reached about half way before gagging and having to pull him out.

‘i’m sorry,’ you whimpered, but he simply stroked your cheek and beamed down at you.

‘you’re doing so well, princess. you can use your hand if the rest won’t fit,’ he murmured, and you gave a nod of understanding.

you used one hand to grip the base while the other stroked him up and down, and wrapped your lips back around his cock. it was easier now, you didn’t have to worry about taking the other half—and it was a big half—down your throat, so you laved at him as much as you could, saliva coating his veiny cock.

‘fuck,’ he groaned, feeling his balls tighten as your tongue slid over a particularly sensitive vein.

your eyes rolled back as you pushed him to the back of your throat, hollowing out your cheeks so as much of him could fit. your core flooded with heat, you loved having his cock in your mouth so much. you adjusted your hips a little to try and ease the tension, but it was no use, so you just had to put up with the dull ache as you continued to suck him off.

coryo moved your hand at the base of his cock, and guided it to his balls. you fondled them gently, watching as his features were dancing with satisfaction, eyes fluttering prettily.

‘good girl,’ he said between groans. ‘taking my cock so well, so good…’

you smiled best you could, though it was hard with his cock down your throat. you felt him throbbing in your mouth, and pulled him out for a brief second so you could move your tongue up and down his shaft.

‘want you to come in my mouth,’ you informed him with an impish grin, moving to slide your tongue down the underside of his cock.

‘wasn’t planning on coming anywhere else… yet,’ he laughed softly, threading his fingers through your hair as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock.

he was close, hips bucking into your palm as one hand massaged his balls. you were a quick learner, which was surprising considering you were quite the opposite when it came to political science. perhaps he’d just have to tutor you in this, instead.

‘mhm, gonna…’ his mouth stretched around another groan. ‘come.’

your lips were wrapped around him once again, and with an elegant thrust he emptied himself in your mouth. hot spurts of cum trickled onto your tongue and down your throat, the pearly stuff tasting slightly salty.

you giggled, pulling him out and watching the excess dribble from his tip. you opened your mouth wide and stuck your tongue out, showing him all the cum that pooled on it.

‘swallow it,’ he commanded.

you obliged, feeling it trickle down your throat. you poked your tongue out again and took the head—which was now extremely sensitive—licking up the rest of the stuff from his leaky tip.

‘so good,’ you moaned, swallowing it all down.

he couldn’t believe how hot you were, plump lips wet with saliva, your eyes gazing at him as you swallowed every last drop of his cum.

‘i’ll make sure you get an A on this assignment,’ he smiled, pulling you up to sit in his lap.

‘of course, that’s after i tutor you in something else…’

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ginevrapng · 9 months

Note

I saw that you were accepting requests and I was wondering if you could write something about best friends’ dads!marauders x reader or something like that?

If not, I completely understand! <3

i've never written bestfriends!dads before so i hope you enjoy it! i didn't know if you wanted me to include peter but the majority of marauders fics leave out peter and i think this concept works better without him. <3

there was a lot of great things about being harry potter's best friend, one of those things happens to be getting to spend time with his hot dad james, completely off limits dad. that doesn't stop you from thinking about how charming he is though.

you've seen photos of james when he were younger and harry is a spitting image of him. now with age he's changed in all the best ways, his hair less messy, neater with slightly having the appearance of being slicked back and with thicker frame glasses. a distinction between him and harry, both younger and older is his build, james being more built with broader shoulders and more muscular.

he's kind and considerate and always calls you 'sweetheart' making you flush and every time leaves you wide eyed. you've never heard him call anyone else sweetheart so it's always leaving you feeling bashful.

james tells you that you can come and visit and stay whenever you want and you're always welcome so whenever you spend time at harry's you also end up seeing his two godfathers who also spend a lot of time there. whenever that happens you are rather reluctant to leave the house, not just enjoying all the company that they deliver but also how attractive they are, just like james.

remus somehow always memorising you. like when he rolls his sleeves up so you can see his arms or how you swear you sometimes see in the corner of your eye glimpses of him looking at your lips while you're talking. his jumpers and cardigans always looking so comfortable and soft, you wonder what they'd look like on you. you think about his sandy hair that covers his eyes and his beautiful hazel eyes that crinkle when he smiles and how he always looks tired and how you'd happily let him rest and sleep on you. he never talks about his work but it must be pretty rough for him to constantly look so tired.

sirius is ruggedly handsome always leaning against walls instead of sitting down, even when a seat is available. leaving you watching longer than you should as you watch his pose and see him stretching causing his tshirt to rise, exposing a bit of his torso. he has his long jet black hair which now has streaks of grey that he constantly runs his hands through.

you're going back into the living room, where everyone is, after you went to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water due to the heat and see sirius moving in a way that momentarily makes you freeze.

"you alright doll?" sirius smirks at you after spotting you. you nod but are unable to stop shifting side to side nervously after being caught, causing him to raise his eyebrow, looking amused as he chuckles at you.

this is the first time any of them has addressed your behaviour towards them but they have all noticed your longing looks and shy glances.

they've all been waiting for the moment to make a move and they're starting to lose their patience. you were none the wiser with their intentions, trying to get you alone, away from your friends and away from harry, asking you personal questions and give you special attention.

"you got a boyfriend or girlfriend doll? sirius asked you out of the blue one day, catching you completely off guard.

you splutter and try to answer while james starts speaking. "you're not dating my harry are you sweetheart?"

"what! of course i'm not! we're just friends." you say probably louder than you should, wanting to defend yourself.

you hear someone coming up behind you, "good." remus clasps your shoulders with his hands, slowly rubbing them and making patterns with his thumbs before he moves away and goes to help sirius with the washing up.

fiddling with your fingers you watch them all clear the table and sort out things that needed to be doing in the house with a small dreamy smile on your face.

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anantaru · 5 months

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cw. fem! reader, experienced argenti, rough n messy, the hottest hsr character, barf woof, fuck me and i will stay forever

argenti doesn't need to see your face to know that you're enjoying this, or even better, enjoying him— because he's utterly confident when it comes to his skills, or anything at all to be honest.

although regardless, he still likes to look at your body bending out of shape when he slides his blunt tip through your folds to tease you before nudging your precious clit repeatedly, at last sinking down to feel your little hole grip him.

it makes him blush to see you pleasured— ruby infused cheeks hand in hand with a handsome smirk, but those eyes, they shine more passionate and in a way that only true love could bring fourth.

they held a soft glow that made you fall in love with the knight even more.

he grinds his hips into you as the vibrations rattle through your tensed limbs, until repeatedly nudging his velvety tip over your pleasure spots to make you sob out wetly, your arms tightly shut around his muscular back to keep him close.

argenti just cannot get enough of you, he needs to further feel how you're swallowing and milking him so unbelievably tight that your throbbing pulse becomes one, your walls fusing into the shape of his thick shaft and manifesting like you have been made for him all this time.

the knight of beauty never falters in his sweet ministrations— thumping noises of clattering skin swallowing your system and pulling you in a daze with every single roll of his hips, lewd tides of your liquids battered around his shaft and dried on his abdomen.

but it doesn't stop here, because remember— argenti's stamina was bottomless, he holds onto your plush thighs for the dear life of him before pressing your legs against your chest, your moans growing all the more desperate when you melt against his searing body and call his name, his musky scent and sweat laced skin illustrating his ethereal beauty in a different form ravishing.

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #argenti x reader #argenti smut #argenti x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr argenti smut #honkai star rail argenti

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bruisedboys · 4 months

Note

i love ur writing sm 🥹 since we got jealous!finnick can we get jealous!reader and how finnick reacts to it? ❤️

“Baby, come on.” Finnick follows you out of the glass elevator, almost jogging to catch up with your angry march. You speed up pointedly. “What did I do?”

“Nothing, Finnick,” you say sharply, without looking at him. The entire elevator ride was heavy with your silent irritation. You don’t want to talk about it, obviously.

“Well, why are you acting like I did?” Finnick presses.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You— sweetheart.” Finnick snags your wrist and pulls you back. You scowl, annoyed at being pushed around. You struggle in his grip but he only grabs your other wrist, holding you still. It’s times like this that you hate having such a muscular boyfriend.

“Come on,” he says, practically begging with you now. “What’s the matter? I don’t understand why you’re so mad.”

“It’s nothing,” you say through your teeth, still struggling against his grip.

Finnick rolls his eyes and holds you tighter, his fingers digging into your wrists. “Is this about Johanna?”

“What?” You falter in your attempts to escape. It is about Johanna, actually. You’d rather he didn't know that, though. “Why would it be about Johanna?”

Even to your own ears your incredulity sounds fake, your voice a notch too high. Finnick stares at you hard and you look away, burning hot under his gaze. Big mistake.

“So it is about her?” he asks slowly. You can hear the knowing smirk in his voice.

“I don’t—“ you stammer, desperately trying to string together a lie that’s not as embarrassing as the truth. You stare at him and his awful grin for a few seconds, fuming. Then, “Fine, yes, it’s about Johanna. She wouldn’t leave you alone!”

“We talked for ten minutes, honey,” Finnick says, measured to your frantic. “You know she’s just a friend.”

“She called you handsome and then winked at you,” you say, mortified, your act completely forgotten. "What am I supposed to think about that?"

You realise your mistake too late — you’ve given yourself away. You’re about to take it back in an attempt to save yourself from an onslaught of teasing when Finnick laughs.

“So you’re saying I’m not handsome?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

Bastard. You hate him, you swear.

“Never mind,” you say bluntly. “Whatever.”

You twist out of his grasp and stalk off. You’re still absolutely rolling in annoyance when you get to yours and Finnick’s shared room. You get as far as the entryway before Finnick’s on you again like a hawk. He grabs you while you're sliding your shoes off and pushes you none too gently against the nearest wall.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Sure you are. You just laughed at me!" You say incredulously, hitting him in the chest.

“Because you’re being silly, darling," Finnick says. Somehow, he makes it sound affectionate. He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand. "Johanna’s a friend. How can you think I’d ever look at anyone else that way when I have you, hm? I’m yours forever, sweet girl."

You blink at him. What is his problem? He laughs at you for being jealous and then says something as life ruining as that? He’s gonna be the death of you one day.

"You really need to stop saying things like that,” you say weakly.

Finnick tilts his head to the side, a knowing look in his ocean eyes. “Why’s that?”

You glare. “You know why.”

Finnick just laughs. “You’re adorable.”

You’re about to tell him to shut up when he kisses you, too fast for you to see it coming, too lovely for you to stop it. His mouth is warm. He tastes like wine. You forget you’re angry at him. When he’s kissing you like this, you have no reason to be jealous. You guess you never really did.

“I’m sorry,” you say when he pulls away. His kiss has unravelled you. Sucked away all your anger and hot jealousy. “For being so mad at you. S’not your fault.”

"It's okay," Finnick tells you, shrugging. He dips down to kiss you again. You push up on your toes to reciprocate his heat, your hand pushing up to love on the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s pulling back before either of you can get too carried away, a smug smile on his pretty mouth as he says, “Jealousy looks good on you, baby."

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it 🤍

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nochukoo97 · 4 months

Text

boyfriend drabbles (pt.33)

pairing: jungkook x oc

summary: the one where you and jungkook celebrate christmas, and you get a tiny bit jealous

word count: 1.4k+

masterlist

sometimes you curse the universe for intoxicating you, making you become addicted to him like a drug. every moment spent with him made you find another reason to love him, another reason to gaze at him and think one thing: forever.

to you, jungkook is like an angel, glowing the brightest amongst all darkness and light in your life, always there to catch you if you fall. it makes you wonder just how much you’ve done in your past life to deserve a man like him.

that’s what you think as you hold the front door open for your boyfriend, who’s grunting as he tugs the christmas tree into your apartment. the lights in the apartment have yet to be switched on, and only the little cat lamp that jungkook had bought you a few years ago provides minimal light to guide the both of you through the door.

yet even the small lamp manages to make his face glow, his eyes meeting yours for a second when he realises your staring, again. instantly it’s like you’re falling in love all over again, and jungkook loves every moment of it. the way your pupils dilate the moment you look at him, or the way your eyes instantly light up even at the mere sight of him.

“where should the tree go?” he hums, halting in his steps as he pulls the tree to stand upright, huffing when the weight finally lifts off his hands.

“right next to the fireplace,” you point over to the empty spot where a plant use to sit, before you had overwatered it and caused its death. “right… here!”

jungkook carefully adjusts the tree, realising it might have been much larger than the both of you had expected it to be, as he notices how close it is to the ceiling.

“baby, are you sure this is the right size?” he laughs as you peer up to the top of the tree, bewilderment written all over your face as you try to recall if it was meant to be this big.

“i think we got the wrong size!” you whine, realising that since the top of the tree was so close to the ceiling, the star that you had planned to place at the top would definitely not fit.

“it’s okay, you know what they say, the bigger the better,” he snorts, sending you a wink as you gasp at his sudden innuendo, before sending a smack to his chest as you sigh.

“oh, you two are finally here!” your sister squeals when she opens the door, your niece running to peek at you and jungkook between her mum's legs as she waves at you shyly.

“yeah, sorry we got caught in a jam,” your boyfriend explains, passing the huge bag of gifts that he insisted the two of you needed to get for your niece, the small girl hiding behind her mum now curiously peering into the bag.

“come in, come in, ___ everyone’s excited to see him,” she snickers as you roll your eyes.

every year your family hosts a huge christmas celebration with friends and relatives, and one thing that doesn’t fail to happen is the guests gushing over jungkook.

“oh, jungkook is here!” your mum immediately calls out when she spots him supporting you as you remove your heels, your boyfriend chuckling when the aunties squeal a little louder than usual, him becoming the center of attention as he greets everyone.

“all good?” he turns to you, whispering slightly so that only you can hear his words, and you turn to him and meet his gaze.

“yeah, seems like you have fans here too,” you joke, poking his rib, jungkook laughing before he’s being called to answer more questions about, ‘what have you been up to lately’ and ‘you look more handsome”

as the conversations flow, you’re having a pretty good time catching up with your relatives, and chatting with newly made friends, but there was a sight that poked at your nerves ever so slightly.

a girl, looking about your age, which you had been sure was your sister’s college friend, batting her eyelashes at your boyfriend as she attempts to flirt with him.

“you’re so muscular, i’m sure you’d be able to lift me up so easily,” she giggles, reaching her hand out to slap over jungkook’s, but not before he quickly slips his hand off the table and onto your thigh, thumb stroking the exposed skin as he laughs nervously.

“so, how long have you guys been together anyways, like a year? ten months?” she smiles a little too widely, gesturing to you sitting next to him.

“we’ve been together for six years,” he proudly says, now shifting his arm around your shoulder as he shifts his gaze to you, noticing the slightly stiff and awkward look on your face.

the girl on the other hand tried to conceal her surprised expression, which she doesn’t do very well considering both you and jungkook noticed the shift in her demeanor.

“i’m gonna refill my drink,” you awkwardly shuffle out of your seat, grabbing your cup that couldn’t have been less than half full, quickly walking towards the table where the pitcher of water was.

“baby,” you hear jungkook walking up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he shifts your body to face him.

“save me from her, please,” you hear him plead, now looking up to meet his eyes.

you almost burst out laughing at the desperate look of pure torture on his face.

“she’s being so obvious, when i’m literally sitting next to you,” you roll your eyes, pouring the water into your cup before jungkook takes the pitcher from your grasp.

“jealous?” he smirks at you, now passing you the full cup of water, “i’ll make sure she knows i have the fattest crush on you,”

you let jungkook drag you back to the table, not missing how the girl squints at your interlocked hands that disappear under the table when the both of you sit back down.

suddenly, a piece of meat is being brought to your mouth, as you widen your eyes in surprise, but you happily accept it as you open your mouth, letting jungkook feed you.

“good?” he asks you, making his voice loud enough for the girl sitting opposite to hear, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his lips, and staying there a little longer than needed, but just long enough to send her a message.

she seems to receive the message well when she scoffs and pokes at the potato on her plate.

“finally,” you huff, clicking in your seatbelt as jungkook gets in the driver’s seat and shuts his door.

the engine hums softly as you drive home, the warmth of the car cocooning you both.

jungkook, still riding the high of the night, reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours, his thumb gently tracing patterns on your hand.

stopping at a red light, jungkook turns to you with a playful grin. “can you believe that girl thought we'd been together for only a year?” he chuckles,

“six years of putting up with you, and she thought it was just a year,” you playfully quip, earning a light nudge from him.

the familiar scent of your apartment greets you as you step through the door, and jungkook wastes no time pulling you into a tight embrace, his warmth enveloping you.

“i missed this," he murmurs against your hair, and you smile, reciprocating the hug.

“me too, maybe next time we should make out in front of her,” you giggle, making jungkook tut at your words.

you decide to unwind on the couch, the soft glow of christmas lights creating a cozy atmosphere. jungkook wraps a blanket around both of you, his arm draped casually over your shoulder. with the tv remote in hand, he navigates through the movie options with playful commentary.

“let’s watch the grinch,” you point at the tv when it lands on the movie, and he nods, clicking on it.

as the movie begins, jungkook’s affectionate nature takes center stage. he presses gentle kisses to the top of your head, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm.

“baby, focus on the movie,” you giggle when his breath fans against your ear, tickling the skin and making you squirm.

“shh, let me love you,”

with the room bathed in the soft glow of holiday lights and whispered conversations between scenes, jungkook’s fingers find their way through yours, a silent reassurance that he's there, grounding you in the moment.

you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. his fingers gently play with your hair, and the room is filled with a sense of contentment. the outside world fading away as you lose yourselves in the movie and the warmth of each other's presence.

taglist!: @imlyfie @jksgirlhere @laylasbunbunny @borahaexoxo @jklvrs-world @jksoftii @yoongisgirl69

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #bts #jungkook drabble #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you

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ichorai · 5 months

Text

tourney favor ; aemond targaryen (m).

pairing ; aemond targaryen x wife!reader

synopsis ; it was rare for knights to ask married ladies for their favors, as it was often a way to win a lady's hand in the midst of courtship. but it wasn’t improper by any means. strange, perhaps, but not improper. you glanced back at aemond. he was studying you, single eye narrowed, jaw clenched. was he jealous?

wc ; 2.1k

themes ; smut, mild fluff, established relationship (married)

warnings / includes ; jealous aemond, unprotected sex, breeding kink and brief mentions of pregnancy/children, wall sex, foul language, mentions of violence/murder

a/n ; if this fic sounds familiar, i took some lines from my far-lengthier aemond fic, balance the scales :)

main masterlist.

A grand tourney was held in honor of Jahaerys and Jahaera’s eighth nameday.

You sat beside Helaena in the high platforms on the elongated arena, hands twisting in your lap. Tourneys usually bored you to no end—watching men hurt themselves over little else than theatrical show and bragging rights was not something you were very keen on. It felt like a waste of time to you, especially because you were already spoken for—you’d much rather be reading, or honing your needlework, or playing with the twins. To your other side was your husband, Aemond, looking equally disinterested in the event. You noticed his long fingers tapping impatiently against his knee, as if he were itching to leave. His older brother Aegon was nowhere to be seen, most likely somewhere in the bowels of the Street of Silk.

You couldn’t help but feel envious. How come the father of the children the realm was celebrating was off gallivanting through the city, probably sunken into his cups and his whores? He was free to fuck whoever and whenever he wanted. Whilst you had to sit for hours on end beside your beloved husband, with whom you wanted to do nothing more than clamber into his lap and kiss him until the two of you grew dizzy.

Perhaps a large part of your agitation was due to the fact that Aemond had sunken to his knees in your chambers only an hour before, his tongue spelling worship over your drenched core. And you’d been so close, ever so close to falling off the edge—

Until there came a knock on the door, and Criston Cole’s muffled voice echoed through the shut door. He had to urgently speak to Aemond before the tourney, apparently.

Something akin to a growl caught in his throat as your husband reluctantly drew away from you. You moaned lowly at the loss, sitting up at the edge of the four-poster bed as you watched him wipe your arousal from his chin.

“We’ll resume this tonight,” he had whispered into your flushed ears, before whisking off to speak to Ser Criston.

Seven fucking hells.

It took several moments for you to compose yourself, before you called in one of your handmaidens to help you dress for the tourney. Redo your hairstyle, too, because Aemond had certainly mussed it beyond salvation.

And now, as you fussed with your fingers in the stands, boredly clapping whenever the crowd was, it only came as an utter surprise when you heard your name called out. You sat up straighter, eyes falling from your hands to the riding grounds down below. It didn’t slip past your notice seeing Aemond tense, his fingers curling into a pale fist over his thigh.

A handsome knight donned in black-and-yellow armor stared up at you. You faintly recalled the patterned sigil emblazoned into the shield he was holding—he was of House Darklyn. He had taken off his helmet momentarily, lodged between his waist and his free arm. Gorgeous dark locks spilled over the nape of his neck, only slightly curled.

The olive green of his eyes gleamed boldly, full lips upturned into a charming smile. “Might I be honored with your favor, my Lady? I can certainly use the luck.”

Your gaze flickered over to his formidable opponent, a strong and muscular man, shrouded in white. His shield bore a red lion. House Reyne.

It was rare for knights to ask married ladies for their favors, as it was often a way to win a lady's hand in the midst of courtship. But it wasn’t improper by any means. Strange, perhaps, but not improper. You glanced back at Aemond. He was studying you, single eye narrowed, jaw clenched.

Was he jealous?

You could feel the muted arousal roar back to life in your lower abdomen.

“Of course, Ser,” you called back with a knowing smile in your husband’s direction. You grabbed a ring of woven flowers and tossed it down over the jousting lance. “Be careful.”

Off the Darklyn knight went with your favor swaying by the lance’s handle, the metal grating of his helmet pulled down over his grinning features. You weren’t even sure what his name was.

The joust began just as you sat back down beside Aemond—but you found yourself barely paying attention to what was unfolding, and rather kept your eyes trained on your husband.

“Rather improper of him to ask for your favor,” he commented snidely, voice lowered so only you could hear. “You’re my wife.”

“Perhaps you should be down there, then,” you replied lightly, offering him a cruel smile. You knew well just how little Aemond cared for all the glamor the tourneys offered. “Show them who I belong to.”

Expression hardening to stone, he suddenly gripped your arm with iron-strength, hauling you up out of your seat, despite your half-hearted protests. You wondered if the Darklyn knight would search for you once the tourney was over. You found yourself unsurprised that you couldn’t care less about him.

Especially not with Aemond leading you down the halls of the Keep, twisting several sharp turns before shoving your chamber’s entrance open. Just as quickly as you were yanked inside, the wooden door slammed shut behind you, and you were promptly shoved up against it.

His lips were angry over yours, claiming you, biting you, devouring you completely. You fell slack in his arms, one of your hands resting over his chest, almost as if you were debating between pushing him away or pulling him closer. He swallowed the noises of contentment that slipped from your throat.

“You just couldn’t wait,” he snarled, shoving you against the door harder until he was pressed flush over your body. Jealous Aemond was certainly a sight to behold. “My greedy little wife.”

You preened at his words, arching your back, desperate to reconnect your lips to his. He didn’t put up a fight, allowing you to fight for dominance, claw at his neck and chest in desperation as you kissed him as if he were the very air you needed to breathe.

Wasting no time, he reached down to yank the bottom of your dress upwards—cursing under his breath at all the damned layers you were wearing—and hurriedly shoved away your shift so he could reach your pulsing cunt.

You were drenched. Warm and wet and fuck, he couldn’t wait a moment longer—

Sensing this, you made quick work of his trousers, yanking them downwards before moving up to pop off his tunic’s buttons. A startled, pleasured cry—verging on a hysterical sob—tore from your lungs and rattled across the chambers when he suddenly thrusted two long fingers into you, his thumb working quick circles over your sensitive clit. You’d already been denied an orgasm once, and you found a litany of breathless pleas erupting from your lips, as if it were just second nature.

“Please, Aemond, please—” You choked on whatever else you had to say, eyes rolling back as your orgasm slammed into you far too soon for your liking. Heavy and all-consuming.

But it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, more, you’d always want more of your husband.

“Aemond, please, I need you inside,” you croaked, letting out a sigh when he drew a few tender kisses to your forehead. A glimpse of the softer side of your husband, scarcely shown unless it was with you. You loved him like this, but you wanted—no, you needed—him to lose all abandon with you.

“If you won’t fuck me, I’ll ask the Darklyn knight,” you growled with a serrated tone.

Aemond drew away from you, violet eye ablaze. Was it fury or was it possessiveness written so plainly over his features? Perhaps both. “What did you say?” he whispered, a hand suddenly surging up to grip your jaw.

“I said,” you huffed, staring at him with a challenging quirk of your brows, “I’ll ask another man to fuck me. If my husband won’t do so, that is.”

Silence on Aemond was scarier than anything. You wished he would speak, or scream, or call you filthy names. But no, he… he was observing you. Calculating. Like a cat would a mouse.

Or a dragon would its kill.

With one fluid motion, he drew his length into his hand—long and hard and angrily weeping with beads of pearly precum. The other hand abruptly flipped you around with surprising strength, crowding you against the wall beside the door so your back faced him. You moaned out his name when he pushed your dress up over your hips and dragged his tip over your drenched core.

“Please,” you begged, bracing yourself against the wall and jutting your hips back. If you could hear yourself over the buzzing in your ears, you’d be absolutely mortified at how delirious you sounded.

In one quick motion, he sheathed himself into you. Your warm, pulsating cunt was gripping him like a vice, eliciting a shuddering groan from his lungs. You mirrored his reaction, squeezing your eyes shut and holding onto him for dear life as he began to pound into you with no restraint. The lewd noises ricocheting in the room made your cheeks heat up until your entire face felt like it had been set aflame. With each snap of his hips into yours, you found yourself crying his name like a mantra, his hands bruising over your waist, pulling you back into him.

You were blubbering incoherently, begging for more. You just about lost it when one of his hands disappeared from your waist—only to roll over your aching clit with quick circles. A sob broke past your lips and you clenched hard around his length, feeling every hot inch of him buried deep inside you. His pace staggered with the sudden shift and he groaned out a curse, followed by your name.

“Who did you want to fuck?” he bit out, slightly breathless, words dripping with venom. “What’s his name?”

“I—” You hiccupped a cry with a particularly loud thrust. “Oh, fuck, Aemond!”

“Right,” he hissed, bending forward to bite down on your strained neck. “I’m the only one who can fuck you like this. Not pretty boys in silly costumes—mmph—not daft knights who lose tourneys. Me.”

The last word was ground out when your cunt spasmed around his girth once more, and you wailed out his name as your orgasm rolled over you. It was a wonder nobody had barged in to see if there was someone being murdered.

“Perhaps I’d have to get you all round and swollen with my child. Show them who you belong to. Who fucked you this good. Would you like that, sweet wife?”

“Yes, yes, Aemond, I need—I need you to come inside. Please, I need you to stuff me full.”

You reached behind you to blindly grapple for his arm and he briefly shifted the angle and began pounding into you even harder. His cock hit your sweet spot just right, and you saw stars swimming over your vision.

A near animalistic noise tore through Aemond’s chest when you tightened around him one last time, your warm cunt fluttering around his cock. His rhythm faltered. What drove him over the edge was when he glanced down and saw the thick ring of your creamy arousal at the base of his cock. Gods, you were… beyond perfect.

With a staggered rasp of your name, he thrust into you thrice more before he spilled his seed deep in you, thick spurts of white coating your slick walls.

Heavy pants filled the room. You barely registered his lips kissing along your bare shoulder, where your dress had slipped in the midst of your heated frenzy.

Slow, he eased himself out of you. “You did so well for me,” he murmured against your skin, smoothing his hands over your waist. “Are you alright?”

“Mmh,” you hummed, because no words would come to you at the moment.

He laughed, a wonderfully rich sound, before gently urging you towards the bed.

“Get some rest, wife,” he told you, laying you onto the plush mattress and dipping down to kiss your forehead. He regarded you with raw adoration folded over his expression. Though, it was quick to melt into a thunderous one with his next sentence. “I have a certain knight to exchange words with.”

If you hadn’t been so high off your orgasms and exhausted with the new-found urge to sleep the whole night away, you would’ve realized that Aemond was likely going to commit manslaughter over something as trivial as a tourney favor. But you hadn’t thought about it much, not in your sex-addled haze, and promptly fell asleep with only the dream of silver-haired babes with wonderful purple eyes to accompany you.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fluff #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x you #hotd fanfiction #aemond targaryen fluff #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd smut #hotd x reader

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satoruni · 1 year

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☆ the babysitter ☆ dilf!toji f. x reader

WARNINGS: f!reader, age gap, rough sex, unprotected sex, mating press, daddy kink, breeding kink

you had just come back to visit home after you completed one semester of college. college was expensive, especially with the tuition costs, accommodation charges, groceries, etc. also you did not like to burden your parents with your expenses so you sought out for a job in the holidays.

your father recommended a babysitting job for one of his acquaintances, someone named fushiguro. you jump at the opportunity since you had a great time bonding with kids. you shyly wait outside the door after ringing the doorbell once. the one who opens the door had an irritated look on his face and seemed to be sleep deprived. you could also hear the wailing of a baby in the background. much to your embarrassment, you found yourself blushing at the tall and muscular physique of the older man. your father did not mention that he was so handsome.

"what?" he said with a voice laced with annoyance and irritation.

"oh-um, mr fushiguro, i just came to enquire about the babysitting job" you squeaked out, feeling intimidated by the scary man.

toji had welcomed you in after this and you met his son, baby megumi who had promptly stopped crying when he was placed in your gentle arms. you were relieved inside, happy to know that the baby had bonded with you so quick.

toji had felt grateful for everything you did, truly. you were a sweet girl who looked after megumi well like he was your own and had even no problems staying in when his work ran late. you had always greeted him home with that adorable smile of yours, balancing megumi on your hip.

he wished he was ashamed to say this because he really wasn't, but he wanted you. you were so sweet, pliant and caring. you were someone he wanted for himself. coming home after every gruelling day of work to see your illuminating smile and holding his son was his dream. megumi also loved you, seeing you as his mother.

toji's desires got the best of him one day when he cornered you in the living room after you put down megumi for sleep. you fidgeted shyly under his intense gaze, making him even more aroused at your blushing face.

he then crashed his lips onto your warm and plump ones, causing you to moan. he shoved his tongue in your mouth and picked you up easily. you had started to squeak in embarrassment at getting picked up and taken to his room where you were thrown on the bed, unceremoniously.

the rest was a blur when he stripped you and him until you both were naked. you blushed at his scarred chest and toned and lean body. toji looked at your gorgeous body in awe while spreading your legs, revealing your pretty pussy to him while you whimpered shyly. from then, toji lost all composure.

he had you with your legs in the air, while thrusting into your mercilessly. you cry and sob in a sinful mixture of pleasure and pain, as he pounds deep into you, hitting all your sweet spots. toji had one rough hand gripped tightly to your waist, holding you down to your bed to prevent your body from jolting from every harsh thrust.

toji had an immense sexual appetite, already built up from not having sex for so long and he was so experienced too, making you stutter and blabber like a fool. you held onto his muscular arms for dear life while he had his fill.

"d-daddy, its too much!" you hiccup out, trying to adjust to his large size and animalistic pace. toji seemed to like you calling him daddy a lot, as indicated by him going even more deeper and faster into you.

"you can take it" he hissed in your ear, squeezing your tits. he kisses your swollen lips, snuffling the cry that threatened to come. "my good girl" he whispered, making your heart skip a beat at the praise. you felt in come in you, most of it leaking out your quivering pussy.

toji didn't like to see you waste his cum like that, giving you a harsh slap on the side of your thigh, making you squeal. he fucks his cum back into your pussy, making sure it went in deep.

"i'm gonna put a baby in you" he says to you, every syllable make your belly feel warm. "you'd look so beautiful with my kid in your belly"

"daddy!" you squealed, feeling embarrassed and strangely aroused, already imagining yourself as his young, pretty wife.

your arrangement after this slightly changed. after feeding megumi and putting him to bed, toji would come home from work. you would be sitting on his large bed, sitting obediently and naked.

toji would take out all his frustrations from work out on your body and you would be lying under him, pliantly and happy to ease his worries. he would fuck you without abandon every night with would result in you leaving his house with a blissed-out smile. your parents were none the wiser, and were oblivious to the new bruises and hickeys on your body whenever you returned from the fushiguros.

#toji x you #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #toji fic #jjk

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tremendum · 6 months

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personal lies

[not my gif. title from the song of the same name, by Djo.] pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her) rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 5.6k requested: Hi! Your work is so insane and incredible! I've literally been thinking about Joel Miller nonstop and was wondering if you'd write a fic where reader is flirty but also has a way of getting herself into clumsy situations- like she bends over to grab something at a party and Joel turns around at the same time and he's pressed right against reader's ass- and these situations keep happening and she just bullies him about him being a pervert until he finally does something about it ;) Keep up the incredible writing!! summary: "when you were young, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - but he was just your dad's friend, someone who would make you blush strictly because he was teasing you. now, though - he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons." warnings: healthy age gap (reader is around 23, Joel is like 47), DBF!Joel, Mean!Joel, brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader, dom!Joel, semi-public sex, light voyeurism, choking, light dacryphilia, inappropriate use of household appliances, use of word slut, its dirty, slight allusions to exhibitionism, brief choking, so much dirty talk (its joel), so much degradation, reader calls Joel a pervert, teasing, slight dumbification, brief spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum play, spanking. think that's it!

notes: okay once again, another mean!Joel for the soul! its a problem! im happy for this request bc it helped so much with my writer's block. pls pls keep sending requests i love them all u guys are amazing.

[other Joel fics: i’ve got headaches and bad luck but they couldn’t touch you fever landmines Mr. Miller Series ]

★

the bathroom window fogs much quicker than it used to.

it's the first thing you've realized since returning back to your childhood home - the lack of use in your old shower, now empty of all the half-used floral shampoos and body scrubs of your youth.

you suppose it makes sense, with your father living on his own now that you're five years out of the house - he has no real need to shower in the bathroom you'd once used as your own. in fact, as you examine under the cabinets and the medicine cupboard, it seems as though he's converted it into a storage room for cleaning supplies and the odd bundle of cotton swabs.

it makes you grin as you massage lotion into your legs, staring at your foggy reflection.

your father's muffled voice from downstairs shouts something and, in lieu of a response, you towel off and wrap it around yourself, cursing your father for not restocking towels that were large enough to cover yourself in a modest way to your trek back to your room; not that it much matters, your father's friends won't be arriving for another hour and a half, at the least.

you're struck with something from your youth when you open the door, though -

and it grunts in response.

the breath leaves your throat as your eyes drag over the expanse of chest which lies just in front of the bathroom, with a hand extended almost as if he were about to open the door - muscular arms and a familiar wristwatch - certainly not your father's.

you gape up at Joel Miller, who stares, wide-eyed, back down at your form.

your face floods with an immense amount of heat; Joel Miller, your father's closest friend.

you haven't seen him since last summer - and before then it was even more scarce. between college out of state and splitting summers with your father and mother, before your visit home last summer, you don't think you'd seen him since you left for university.

he's changed, but not that much - tan, with hair that curls at the nape of his neck, a nicely fit t-shirt that brings out the honey of his eyes. now, though, he's got slight smile lines on his face that compliment his striking, burly features and a peppering of gray through his hair; your mouth runs dry as you take in the large frame of thick shoulders and contoured biceps. christ.

when you were a teen, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - he was kind, funny, and would always buy you iced tea when he ran for some beers for him and your father after a day working around the house or in the yard. but he was just your dad's friend, someone who made you blush strictly because he was teasing you.

now, though - ever since last summer when you'd caught his eyes lingering on your figure a few too many times, he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons. it was a thrilling game you came to know last summer - the way he’d flush and clench his jaw after every quip, each slight tease of phrase, wink, of riding up of your skirt when he walked by.

it makes your stomach flip still - and the most delicious part of it all is the smoldering glares he'd give you when you pushed him too far; last summer, you'd discovered the only good thing about your clumsy, teasing nature: Joel's reactions.

he’s everything the gentleman, always has been - even when you pushed his buttons, flustered him, he never lost his cool. only ever let his eyes wander and speak for themselves.

so when you open the door directly into him, you’re shocked to see him standing there, eyes wide.

his appearance throws you off, as there was nobody besides your father in the house when you'd stepped into the shower minutes before. tilting your head, you regain your footing quickly, heart picking up as you see his eyes rake over the length of your legs, exposed from the tiny pink towel you wear.

it’s been far too long you think, noting the change in his face when he recognizes you.

his eyes scour over every curve of your body, as if seeing you for the first time- you can’t hide your smirk. "can I help you with something, Joel?"

his eyes avert just as quick as they found you, staring at something extremely interesting just above the crown of your head. "was lookin' for some rags. your father spilled downstairs." he shifts on his feet, looking into the steamy bathroom behind your frame, "didn't realize there was anybody home..."

you hum, lifting a brow, "good thing I came out when I did," you send him a sly grin, "or else you'd have gotten a show." you tease, shooting him a gentle wink.

his eyes narrow slightly, tilting his head. he mutters your name lowly and it strikes you that you haven’t seen him in over a year and here you are, staring up at him, in a minuscule towel.

“watch it. didn’t know y’were in there.” he utters, sounding defensive as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

the rumble of your name as it leaves his lips is insatiable; it bathes you in heat as his eyes flicker down towards your chest and back up to your eyes and you smirk, a light tut leaving your mouth.

"sure you didn’t, Joel.”

he cocks a brow at your implications, his head tilting slightly, but he says nothing. your father yells something about warped wood downstairs and the moment snaps, Joel clearing his throat and you looking away.

“I'm onto you, perv." you smirk, winking once again. you don't give yourself the chance to see his reaction as you brush past him, a flick of your wet hair trailing over the green cotton of the shirt that hugs his biceps. you don't hear him move even as you slide past your door and shut it.

it’s not until you’re inside your room that you hear the bathroom door slam so hard it reverberates through your walls. you fight your racing heartbeat and dull throb of arousal, pressing your fingers against your hot cheeks.

"honey?" your dad calls as you leave your room.

“Joel's here. come say hi and help us set up."

your heart skips, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you round the stairs, where the two men stand at the bottom. feigning surprise, you start down the steps towards them. "hi, Mr. Miller." you say pleasantly, "when did you get here?"

Joel's eyes flash with something as he watches you, tilting his head as if trying to decipher what you're playing at - as if he didn’t see you in a towel thirty minutes ago.

"little bit ago." he responds, shifting on his feet and watching you with crossed arms. “when did you get here?” he counters, nodding to your suitcase, which sits still at the top of your stairs.

your dad laughs at your words, though, breaking the tension he didn't even feel before you can answer Joel’s question. "-Mr. Miller? since when did you have any manners?" your dad snorts, "been calling him Joel as long as I have." you roll your eyes playfully at him, reaching the last step, still a few inches shorter than the man next to your dad.

Joel’s eyebrows raise; you look away as you grin. “trying to be polite, I guess. it’s been a bit.” you shrug.

"guess they did teach ya something mature in college, huh?" you dad smirks, nudging your arm. you flush and shrug just as Joel swallows, "haven't seen you in a while, sweetheart." he nods, "how've you been?"

you smile, "been really good, Joel. better now that I get to see my favorite old man." you tease, stepping between the two men, eyes trailing over Joel's gaze even as you walk away. despite your dad's grunt of offense at your joke, he still grins, "you look nice, honey." he says, patting your shoulder.

you smile, not breaking eye contact with Joel as you hum, "thanks, I just showered."

the crowd is thicker than you expected.

you didn’t know your father even had this many friends.

besides your own friends who you’d invited to come catch up, you spent the afternoon chatting with nearly every person in the old neighborhood you’d ever met.

if you thought being home from school while you were a student was bad, being freshly graduated at a backyard barbeque full of your dad's friends was much, much worse.

flocks of couples, neighbors, and family friends gravitate towards you in waves, asking about your achievements and new job and oh, what's it like in the big city?

you're barely able to break away for a minute to stalk over to the side of your house, nestled up in the grass of your backyard, to grab refreshments - sure, you've already had a few beers and you're not particularly thirsty, but Joel's leaning up against the side of the house and you're drawn with a heat in your abdomen towards him.

a small group of men talk just next to the coolers, engrossed in some conversation that holds no interest to you; but he's there, and something inside you screams for his attention.

you barely brush his back to excuse yourself past the bodies, reaching down into the cooler to fish out something palatable.

but your blood runs just as cold as the ice in your hand when a sudden pressure against your ass sends a shiver of desire through you.

you instinctively gasp. the pressure of someone’s hips pressing firmly but briefly against your ass, by accident, startles you as you stand up, a pulsing desire spreading through you instantly once you see Joel, face in shock, behind you.

you swallow; he must have turned after thinking someone’d tried to get his attention, just as you’d bent over. your face heats up.

you're met with eyes that hold awkward shock and a small dark flame that flickers slowly as your shame suddenly melts into a smirk, lunging at the perfect opportunity to sink your claws into him.

"s-sorry, didn't see you there." he stutters slightly. heat pools in your stomach at the flush on his cheeks, the white ring around his knuckles spreading where he grips the neck of his beer bottle too tight.

grinning, you shrug. "it's okay, Joel. I'm sure it was an accident. you seem to be prone to them." you say sweetly, voice sounding almost simpering as you smile.

from the look he gives you, it's clear he can see right through your words. "were you grabbing a beer?" you ask, watching his jaw clench.

"no, I was-" but he stops himself at the teasing raise of your brows, shaking his head as he tries to save himself from your teasing. "sure. yeah."

but just like that, he's fallen into your trap, and you smile, “just watch where you’re standing this time, yeah?” you ask. and within a split second, you're bending over again right before him, falsely digging through ice to grab a bottle that you know he likes. you shift slightly, leaning your weight on one leg as to pop your hip slightly before straightening up and handing the bottle to him with a smirk.

when you whirl back around, his eyes are up towards the sky, jaw clenched tightly with strain as if silently praying to god; though you know Joel Miller has not once stepped foot into a church in his whole life. he clears his throat tersely, eyes meeting yours again as he grabs the bottle from you. "thanks," he mutters.

"you might want to finish that one first." you say with a grin, nodding towards his half-full beer bottle opened in his hands. he looks riled as he sends you a harsh look that only makes you smirk more, shrugging as you saunter off.

as much as you try, you can’t get the feeling of Joel pressed against you out of your mind.

and, with a shivering glance across the patio, you can tell he can’t either; while fully engrossed in a conversation with a woman close to his age, you lock eyes with Joel for a full five seconds before you break away. his gaze is heavy and intent - it follows you, watches you interact with people from the town and your friends from high school.

despite the scorching stares he sends you from across the yard, you keep your distance from Joel, too. you're engrossed catching up with a few friends from high school on the patio when your dad pulls you aside, asking you to help out bringing the food onto the patio.

bowls of chips, salads, roasted vegetables, condiments, and several different variations of sweets are brought out and spread across the folded tables outside. the smell of ribs and pulled pork from your father's smoker fills the air while you fill a tub full of water for the kids on the law to bob for apples in, watching from the serenity of your kitchen.

the breeze floats through the open window as you stare out, the scene calm as you let your thoughts linger. out near the yard, a woman leans down to pick up a discarded paper plate and the man beside her places his hand on her hip; a gentle squeeze that has your eyes glued to the motion. unable to help it, your mind wanders.

Joel's hands are large; they're rough with callouses from work and the skin gets cracked during the winter, but they're warm. you start to wonder if he's got a woman to touch like that - sure, you remember a few women who'd hung out around your dad and him when you were younger, once Sarah was old enough. but there'd never, to your knowledge, been a serious girlfriend.

you watch with desire as the man taps the woman's hip, fingers close to her ass, as she straightens, and it causes you to avert your eyes. your cheeks heat as you imagine the way it'd feel if you were out there - if the man's hand was Joel's, if he were to grab you in the middle of all these people, shove you down onto your knees-

you clear your throat, eyes snapping down to the sink where the water was overflowing from the bin with a gentle bubbling noise.

you groan to yourself in embarrassment. you need to get a fucking grip - no, you need to get laid.

the tub is filled a little too high; it's unsteady as you lift it up, hoisting it above your hips to hold against yourself as you turn around. but there's a figure behind you that makes you jump in shock, jolting the tub until it spills over yourself. you're hit with a shocking rush of cold as the water tips and drenches you; you let out a sharp yelp as one hand flies to your chest. "christ!" you snap, eyes landing on the perpetrator -

"Joel!" you snap, "you scared me."

"jesus," he mutters, moving towards you, grabbing the bin from you and placing it down on the counter, "I wasn't even close t'you, sweetheart. I was walkin' into the garage."

you swallow, taking a breath to calm your tight nerves. "I was zoned out, I guess-" you curse your bumbling hands, a light breeze catching over your wet skin and sending a shiver through you. just your luck.

you sigh, tilting your head, "what are you doing, slinking around here?" you raise a brow as you accuse him. he rolls his eyes, "ain't slinking anywhere. was goin' to find apples. your dad is adamant about those kids on the lawn. afraid they're gonna tear up his landscaping."

you sigh, shaking your head, "you made me spill." you pout dumbly, heart still pounding as you become increasingly aware of how wet your dress is- his eyes narrow, "'s not my fault you're always gettin' yourself into trouble." he mutters, shrugging as he looks down at your chest, the fabric slowly melding itself against your hot skin as the water spreads.

"says you." you retort, shaking your head. his eyes catch yours after you mutter it; a quick, intense glance that sends a strike of heat through you. a warning look.

but as always, he doesn't linger on your teasing, instead clearing his throat and moving on. it drives you mad as he hums. "at least it's water." he tries, "clean you right up." he hands you a dish towel, which you take with a quirked brow. desire burns between your legs.

"I already showered today," your voice is seductive, floating through the tense silence of the room as your eyes meet the side of his face. "as I'm sure you haven't forgot." you tease.

his hands freeze from where they were, wiping some of the water from the counter with a towel. he turns slowly to look at you, face dark. the air suddenly feels thick. "what's that supposed to mean?" his voice is low, brows drawn as he stares down at you - jaw clenched, chest heaving. his eyes dare you to say it, to let him take a bite.

you hum, "don't act coy now, Mr. Miller." you tease, watching his eyes darken with your words. "I see the way you watch me. don't act like you aren't thinking about me." you add boldly, heart hammering - if, somehow, you've made it all up in your delusional head, you're utterly fucked.

but his jaw ticks and his inhale is sharp, a flicker of his eyes down to your bra as it peeks through the wet material gives him away. it lights a flame within you that nothing else ever has.

"creeping around upstairs while I'm showering. you're trying to tell me you weren't about to slide in, take a peek?" you tilt your head to stare up at him through lidded eyes, kicking the teasing up the highest you've ever done.

you push onto your tip toes, your dripping chest mere inches from his as the barbeque continues feet away, outside. "you want to see it, don't you? feel me against you, like you did out there? I'm really warm." you mutter, drinking in his silence as he heaves his chest against yours. “and so tight.” you whisper, bold courage seeping through you as your eyes fall to the straining tent in his pants.

a rush of pride tickles you when he doesn't stop you, doesn't tell you off - so you continue, legs jelly with arousal. "I'm way too young for you, but you just can't stop yourself, can you?" you whisper into his ear, "you're so perverted, Joel."

you're throbbing with heat when you pull back slightly to drink in his red cheeks, his piercing stare that nearly kills you. his glare is molten, sharp as his gaze flickers from you then out to the party, returning with a burning malice. "go change. now." is all he says.

"are you distracted, Joel?" you tease, smirking up at him. “or just too scared?”

“shut up.” he orders, the malice behind it barely surviving his bark as his eyes dip quickly to your chest and back.

you smirk, “you can’t keep your eyes away from me. you’re a sick man, Joel.” you mutter, letting your hand drag down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts through your wet fabric. he nearly growls, rough hand flying to your bare arm, tugging you close to him. "take it off." he hisses.

you blink up at him, shivering from the hungry, dark eyes that seem to tear you apart inch by inch, as you breathe out a defiant, "you're not my dad."

he chuckles at that, an exhale leaving his lips. "you're damn right 'm not. and you're not a fuckin' child. go change."

you settle on a darker sundress this time, to avoid another wardrobe malfunction.

your heart hammers just as loud in your throat as it did minutes earlier in the kitchen as you stare out your bedroom window, searching for one figure in the crowd of guests. Joel's nowhere in sight, yet the kids are all huddled around a tub of water with bright red apples bobbing up and down.

with a sharp sigh, you gather your undergarments and dress to bring down to the washer, flicking off your light.

the laundry room smells fresh - a breath of clean air after the suffocating tenseness of the kitchen. the thought of Joel's face makes your cunt flutter slightly; that dark, angry stare - the rouge of his cheeks at your words. where doubt should creep in, nothing but pride fills your mind, knowing you can rile up the man just as easy as riding a bike.

you've just started the wash cycle, moving to stand up when the door slams shut, making you jump once again to be met with Joel's large frame.

you raise your brows, masking your shock and nerves with a grin, "back for more, creep? too late, I already put my panties in the wash-"

but he crowds into you so quick that your mouth snaps shut; your back hits the edge of the washer as you stare up at him, shocked. "'m tired of your shit," he sneers, eyes angry, "prancin' around, wearing next to nothin' and bendin' over for everyone to see." your stomach flutters.

he sneers his next words. "you really that clumsy, or are you just too shy to admit how bad your pussy's aching for your daddy's best friend?"

your jaw nearly drops from such bluntness coming from Joel's lips. you've rarely even heard him cuss - only during football games and the one time he burnt his hand on the grill after you'd leaned over and given him a perfect view down your shirt.

"Joel-" you start, a rush of arousal flooding the seat of your panties as you're pushed backwards. he leans into your space, dipping his head until he's in your ear. "who's the real creep, huh?" he mutters, warm breath scattering chills over your neck, "you’re sick, baby. goin' after men almost twice your age." he tuts, sliding his thick jeans between the soft skin of your thighs. “you got no idea what a man like me could do t’ya.” you gasp sharply, hands gripping his thick shoulders and he pushes you back further, your spine thrumming with the rumble of the washing machine.

“bet you think you can show me, don’t you?” you challenge, raising a brow.

"tired of your bullshit, sweetheart." he shakes his head, leaning back. "how am I gonna get you to shut up?" he asks mockingly. you swallow, canting your hips slightly as a prickle of desire rolls over you. "bet you'd love to turn this into a lesson, wouldn't you Joel?" you tease back, but he moves his leg up slightly, the rough material brushing against your heat. jolts of pleasure erupt from the spot and you let out a short mewl. his hand rises to grip your jaw, firm but gentle. his skin is hot and large against your cheeks.

"don't lie, sweetheart, you love it." he growls, "you love trippin' and spillin' shit just so I can come clean up your mess for you. 's that right? you just need my attention?" his thumb caresses over your cheek, jilting a brow as he stares down at you, "answer me."

you swallow dryly, nodding pathetically, "yes."

he tuts, condescending as he tilts his head. "where's all the teasing now, baby? you're always so talkative. did'ya realize I'm too much for you?" he taunts.

you shake your head, eyes wide, "no!" you eject, flames of heat licking your cheeks as he smirks. you try to go back on yourself, play down your eagerness, "-no, you're not too much, I promise."

he tilts his head the other way this time, eyes sharp. "so what is it, then? y'afraid of all the people out there? that your daddy's gonna come looking for ya and find us in here? see me touching you, like the pervert I am? because I'll leave right now 'f that's what you want."

you shiver as another rush of arousal floods you, twitching your hips at his words, the low drawl of his voice. you grasp him tight by his biceps, holding yourself against him as you meet his hot stare, unable to voice your desires. your blood pumps with need.

"oh." he hums, eyes narrowing as he pushes his thigh up against you roughly, eliciting a short moan from you. "or do you like that?"

you swallow, eyes lowering to where you drag your hips over his leg, pathetically desperate. he chuckles and it reverberates in his chest under your palms. "anyone could walk in here, sweetheart. your dad could be on the other side." he whispers into your ear, coaxing a moan from you - he tuts, "-an the washer's not loud enough if y'gonna moan like that."

you nod, staring into his eyes; they pierce you with their intensity. he's giving you an out, asking if this is what you really want, or if its just some juvenile grasp for attention. your mind has been made up since you found out Joel was coming today, though.

"I'll be quiet for you, Joel." you whisper, nodding, "I can handle it."

you can tell, he likes that; he presses to you fully, his hardening cock pressing against your side. you sharply inhale, the reality settling in as you drip with desire, aching for his touch. boldly, with a breath of fresh desire, you snake your hand down to palm him through his jeans - he's thick, straining against his jeans as his grip on your jaw tightens.

"how long have you been this hard, Joel?" you tease, confidence sudden as you smirk, "bet you've been thinking of me since you tried to sneak into the shower earlier for a peep show."

his hand slides down to grasp your throat as your sentence tapers out: a squeeze causes a rush of pleasure through you. "quit it with the fuckin' lyin'. you're already desperate enough." his breath is hot on your face. with a grin, you accentuate a squeeze on his bulge, coaxing a short grunt from him. "says you, old man?"

this pushes him to the edge.

rough hands leave your hip and throat to flip your body over, pushing you until you're bent over the washing machine, its vibrations tremoring your whole body. "eager, are you?" you tease, gasping when one hand presses you from the base of your neck.

his voice is sharp in response, "tired of you, sweetheart. gonna fuck all the teasin' right out of you."

your cunt flutters at his words, wiggling your hips until you press against his crotch, feeling the hard thickness of his clothed cock over your panties. "-and you'll probably love every second of it too.” you mutter against the cold white surface of the washer.

a harsh swat on your ass makes you yelp slightly, the pleasure smearing arousal between your thighs, legs shaky with anticipation. you swallow heavily when your dress is shoved up over your hips, exposing your skimpy panties to Joel as his large hands splay over the flesh of your ass.

his hands grip and squeeze your skin, teasing you, as slowly his fingers graze over the seat of your underwear, toying with the ruined, soaked fabric. "you're dripping," he taunts you, the stark words causing your eyes to widen, a short whimper leaving your lips. "eager, are you?" he parrots your words.

you let out a shuddered moan, swallowing as a finger falls to rub feather-light circles over your throbbing, clothed clit. the sensation has you bucking back against his touch, but his own grip on you prevents your movement; a harsh grip on your neck, forcing you down against the vibrations of the machine.

"tell me what you want." Joel mutters, voice commanding. you resist the urge once again to roll your eyes as you grit your teeth; your own medicine tastes bitter as he feeds you spoonfuls. "come on, you've always loved to talk." he sneers, his voice taunting, as if recalling all the times you've teased him, secretly aching for him. "you had such good manners in front of your daddy earlier, didn't you? so where's that pretty please? say pretty please, Joel, please fuck me on my daddy’s washing machine." he adds, thumb pressing down slightly harder on your clit. a strangled noise escaped your throat, your eyes wrenching shut. “say you want me to use you.”

"fuck- pretty please- J-Joel, please use me-“ you whimper, giving up as he hums at your words. a squeeze on your throat.

“y’gonna knock it off with the desperate teasing?” he asks sharply, holding you towards his mouth. you swallow, trying to hide your grin at the wall and hoping Joel can’t see it.

“yes, Joel, just please, please fuck me.” you submit to his request, throbbing with desire.

you feel his chest as he leans over you, breath against your spine. "begging your dad's best friend to fuck you? you’re so dirty, baby. you should be ashamed." he tuts, kissing your spine in a feather-light touch as his other hand slides your panties to the side, your arousal already dripping down your legs.

your cheeks flush as you nod wordlessly, wiggling your hips slightly, cunt aching for him.

he doesn't make you wait any longer; his cock is thick and heavy as he pulls himself out of his jeans, running his shaft through your molten heat.

your gasp is strangled as his tip nudges your clit, a groan from his lips rumbling and low as you hold your breath in anticipation. he rocks his hips again and your legs soon tense up, cold against the washer as your hands grip the sides, "hurry, please." your voice is breathless and cracked as you ask it, exhausted and driven wild from his teasing. "need it so bad.“ you whimper breathlessly.

he has the audacity to chuckle lightly, his thickness spreading your juices and notching just at your entrance before sliding past in tease. your nails scrape the metal as your eyes clench shut - he's so big; a flood of nerves rolls over you.

"i know you do, sweetheart.” he mutters; you almost consider slapping him, but then you're sharply inhaling at the sudden sensation of his spit, dripping down onto your pulsing, aching heat. you can't help the moan at the feeling; there's a moment where Joel's hand caresses your cheek gently and you can't help but lean into his warm skin, keening at the touch, until it slides over your mouth and you realize he's muffling you.

and then he pushes forwards, breaching your tight, hot cunt.

and you’re gasping. simultaneously, you suck in breaths at the sensation, his own groan so low it may be a growl.

your brows pinch together at the tight fit; he's so big and you're tight with desire as he slowly inches himself inside, relishing in the agonizing pleasure of him nearly splitting you open. "Joel," you whimper, voice completely muffled by his tight hold on your mouth.

he whispers hot against the shell of your ear, "you better be quiet."

his voice sends a flood of arousal through you, coaxing his cock further into you, enveloping him into your warmth as his cock presses against the spongy part of you that has your back arching in a gasp. and then he's dragging himself slowly out of you, thrusting back in deep and slow.

he lets out a shuttering breath into your collarbone as your nails dig into metal. you squirm at how deep he is; sweat lines your brow as your body is forced against the machine, barely able to accommodate his size. you let out a breathless, broken whine into his palm at the feeling, his length nearly splitting you, the sounds of your arousal slicking him and coating you both as he starts to thrust with a deep pace.

he holds you hard against the machine, ensuring you can't buck your hips, the other hand sliding to your neck, keeping just where he wants you at the angle that has both your eyes nearly rolling back.

he growls as he starts to fuck into you hard and rough, the washer shaking with his thrusts. "take me, that's right." he grunts - the sentence sends your toes curling in pleasure. "fuck-" he grunts, "dirty slut, letting me fuck you right here- practically begging me all night-"

the vibrations from the washing machine send tremors of pleasure through you and with wide eyes, you can feel your orgasm growing quickly. you can't help the gasps as Joel hits the spot in you that has tears brimming at the edge of your vision.

"you close already, sweetheart?" he taunts, hand grabbing both your wrists to pin them against your back. you can't move as he pumps into you, the machine hitting the wall as the fire writhes in your abdomen.

you nod, tears almost spilling in pleasure. the vibrations are bringing you so close to the edge as he hits the spongy spot inside you that nearly makes you scream; he chuckles darkly. "you need a little more, baby?"

you nod, wailing gently against him as you try to move against him, toes leaving the ground as he fucks you into the machine. "you wanna cum, hm?"

you nod furiously, yelping, "yes!" through his muffling.

you feel a familiar warm feeling in your abdomen after a several deep thrusts and you moan out as he lifts your leg slightly up, hitting a new angle that nearly sends you over the edge. "fuck." he hisses.

his hands grip your wrists tight, "you know how t'touch your clit, don't you, baby?" he asks. you nod, looking towards the wall as you can't crane your neck further to see him. he doesn't let up on his thrusts, even as you glare at the wall, nodding with a whimper.

"why don't you touch yourself, then?" he asks, teasing with a dark lilt in his voice that sends thrills through your body. you flutter and clench at his condescending tone, his hand pinning your wrists back as you struggle to move your hand to where you most need it.

"c'mon, sweetheart, try harder. work for it."

a tear falls onto the washing machine as he thrusts deep, hard. he hums low, leaning over and hitting a new angle, lips against your neck. "you gonna stop slutting yourself out? an’ stop callin' me a pervert when you throw yourself at me?" he asks, taunting. you groan, nodding enough that your neck hurts as you keen your back towards him, on a desperate edge of something brilliant.

he hums, "'kay, baby. touch yourself. want you to cum on my cock."

your hands are released and frantically your fingers find your sensitive clit, yelping as he presses his hand harder to your mouth. the feeling is blinding.

your cunt flutters as you hit your high not two thrusts later, your whole body tense. you let out a long, loud whine of his name as you nearly short circuit.

“f-fucking tight-" he grunts, his own thrusts sloppy as he chases his own orgasm, already moving on from yours as you go limp with pleasure in his grasp.

overstimulation sends your legs quivering as he grips you tighter, fucking into your throbbing heat. your cunt, still sensitive and contracting, drives Joel crazy - though you tense as you hear a familiar voice calling out Joel's name from the patio.

your eyes widen, but Joel doesn't stop - not when your dad yells his name louder, as if he's entered the kitchen.

and, to your horror, your dad calls out for Joel, asking if he's seen you.

you don’t miss the coincidence of your dad yelling into the house in search of you while his best friend cums inside you. a groan quiet in your ear as Joel suddenly stills deep inside you, hot spurts of his cum pumping into you, both your breaths heavy. he rocks into you, shaking breath as your father once again calls for him.

when Joel pulls out of you, he caresses your spine, releasing your mouth. you suck in a breath, shuttering when his thumb slides over your ruined cunt, thumbing his cum back inside you gently, lowly groaning.

you don't say anything, too shocked to speak as he pulls your panties back over you, dragging your dress over your ass.

releasing you from his grip, he hums into your ear, "now you’ll quit your fuckin' teasing, you hear me?"

and then, within seconds, you hear him returning outside, calling back your dad's name while you try to stand upright on shaky legs.

shit.

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#joel miller smut #joel smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #the last of us (tv)#the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #pre-outbreak!joel miller #joel the last of us

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mari-the-bimbo · 6 months

Text

Nanami: the brat tamer

A/N: I apologise in advance for the woman I became when I wrote this 🙏 Also can we talk about how I randomly defeated my dyslexia and managed to write without bullet points? Lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, oral sex, adult language, hair pulling? age gap

Having an older, accountant boyfriend didn’t seem so fun when you had to wait for him to get home after overtime.

You sat on your shared bed, arms crossed, pouting, and aggressively checking the time every 2 seconds, the impatience of waiting for Nanami finally creeped up to you. Now you were mad, how could he leave you like this for so long?!

So even after you heard the front door open and close, you decided to ignore it and pretend you’re sleeping. It’s petty, you know it is, but you convinced yourself it’s what he deserves, even after you heard his faint calls of your name from downstairs.

“Sweetheart?” Says his deep, creamy voice as he reaches the bedroom. You squeeze your eyes shut a bit tighter, in an attempt to block him out.

“I know you’re awake” he says.

You huff in annoyance at his smart ass comment and finally turn around to see him loosen his tie. Damn it, why did he have to be so sexy.

“So? I have nothing to say to you” you reply before turning your back to him again as you get comfy in your bed.

“Oh? Is my sweetheart upset about something?” He asks, trying his best to co operate with your young fiery temper.

You couldn’t help but furrow your brows at his tone, speaking to you as if you were a child having a tantrum. “What do you think?” You say sarcastically as you look at him again with a frown on your face.

You watch his jaw clench and he takes a deep breath, you knew his patience naturally ran thin, yet he tries his best with you. But dealing with you when you’re being a brat isn’t easy.

“I’m being nice y/n. So come here and tell me what’s wrong” he says, large hands grabbing one of your legs that dangled off the side of the bed.

Your bad temper led you to use your leg to push him away, however as your foot collided with Nanami’s stomach, you realised your effort was in no avail. It was like a foot to a wall, a hard, unmoving wall.

You gulped as you look back up at your strong boyfriend. His face would seem indifferent to others, but only you could notice that slight annoyance on his face. “Really y/n?” He asks, daring you to reply as he grabs the foot on his stomach tighter.

But just as you’re about to reply smartly, your breath is stolen as he quickly pulls your body towards him with the hold on your foot. You gasp “Nanami!” as he gets on the bed, now towering on top of your barely clothed body.

You’re about to protest again but he places his hand over your mouth, effectively shutting you up. “No. I gave you a chance to be a good girl but you chose to be a brat, so now you’re going to be disciplined like one” he says, and although you should be scared, you couldn’t help but whimper against his large hand and arch your back.

He wants to laugh at you but he shakes his head instead, “you shameless girl” he says as he removes his clothes and all you could do is hum in agreement and eye his chiselled abs that are no longer begging to burst through his blue shirt.

He sighs as if he’s disappointed but you know he’s loving every second of this. Your eyes are starry as you watch him pull his boxers down, finally letting his fat dick spring out, cum glistening at its tip, making you subconsciously spread your legs out.

Nanami watches you do this with a unamused look. “What are you doing? Do you really believe you deserve to be railed after that attitude?” He scolds, making you stare at him in disbelief and you finally scoff in annoyance.

Suddenly his hands grabs your hair, tugging it ever so slightly, yet the veins on his muscular beefy arms were bulging. “Ah!” “Be quiet, another sound out of you and you’re getting nothing out of me, understand?” He says, his frown deepening the contours of his handsome face.

And that threat humbled you in seconds, you stare in disbelief again but this time you nod. You were in no state to deny this, and he knew that too from the wet patch on your underwear.

“That’s right” he says, as he presses his dick against your face. His pre cum starts dripping down your face, and even as you moan, Nanami keeps the stern look on his face.

He wastes no time pushing himself inside your mouth, your choking is like music to his ears. It’s keeps him moving, his hips thrusting harder every time, because the wet gummy feeling of inside your mouth was just too good against his length. His hands reach behind your head, grabbing all your hair into a ponytail, helping you suck him more easily, bobbing your head so that you can take more of his length.

He lets out a choked moan which only motivates you further, maybe he’ll finally praise you if you try harder. You swirl your tongue around it, sucking harder and harder in hopes of a single praise out of Nanami’s mouth. Because as much as you pretend to be an unbothered bitch, you want be his good girl.

“Ohhhh you’re so good to me sweet girl” he finally says. Suddenly his speed increases, mouth fucking you relentlessly.

You try so hard to keep up with his speed but at some point your mouth gives up and you become a sex toy for his dick to play with. And once he finally slows the pace of his thrusts, and strokes the back of your neck so sweetly, the situation isn't made any easier as the salty taste of his cum flows down your throat as well as trickling down your chin. Nevertheless you swallow it all.

Finally you pull back, gasping for breath, making the remaining cum spill on your neck and breasts, but that’s not good enough for Nanami. “Don’t waste my cum you silly girl. You know I hate wasting”. His long fingers picks up the trail you left behind and presses the creamy trail against your mouth, forcing you to open your mouth and swallow it all.

You struggle to give an answer as you try to regulate your heavy pants.

“Well? What do you have to say?”

“Thank you daddy” you manage to choke out, you knew the drill.

“And?” He says, an eyebrows raised.

“And- I’m sorry for being a brat before” you add, crawling into his lap, craving his warmth. His eyes soften at your exhausted figure, he could never stay mad at his beautiful angel.

He strokes your hair as he watches you become putty against him. Pretty wide eyes staring at him, waiting for praise. He can’t help but give you an amused smile, god, you were so pretty, especially when you had cum glistening on your chin.

He lets you press yourself against his body as he kisses your cheeks. “That’s okay sweetheart, next time you’re sad, you need to tell me, okay?”

“Okay” you lie, knowing damn well you’re going to do it again just to get him mad.

What? It’s not your fault he looks so damn fine when he’s mad.

He presses one last kiss to your head before pulling you away. “Okay you need to get up now princess, you need to show me how sorry you are”

“Huh?” You say.

You continue to stare dumbfounded as a Nanami grabs his tie, his eyes not looking away from yours as he ties your hands together.

Your confusion soon morphs into a giddy smile as you realise what this meant. You open your legs once again, knowing you’re in for a treat. You give Nanami your best puppy eyes and you watch him lick his lips in response. Perfect, you knew you would get your way, Nanami loves you too much to deny you of anything.

“Am I about to get railed?”

“Yes you are sweetheart”

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shangchiswife · 1 year

Text

joel miller- the babysitter?

....

summary: sarah’s old babysitter comes to visit from graduate school and joel is surprised

warnings: smut, age gap

word count: 2140

link to part 2: part 2

....

Joel Miller stood in the kitchen, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

He was determined to get the pancakes in front of him perfect. It was Sarah’s birthday and he just wanted to show her how much he appreciated her.

He had just finished making breakfast when his daughter bolted down the stairs.

“Morning dad,” she chirped before taking a seat at the breakfast table where Joel had placed a hot syrupy stack of pancakes.

“Morning baby girl, happy birthday,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead before taking a seat beside her.

“Pancakes! Thank you so much, dad!” she grinned before she immediately started to pile the pancakes onto her plate.

His gaze was soft as he stared at his little girl that was growing up so fast.

“So what’s the plan for today?” she asked with her mouth full.

“Mouth closed, Sarah, and whatever you want,” he ruffled her hair and she giggled.

“Thanks so much, dad, well I was thinking-”

Sarah was interrupted by the sound of the loud doorbell that sounded like it needed to be fixed.

The two glanced at each other with confusion.

“Were you expecting someone, Sarah?” Joel questioned, staring at his only daughter.

“No…” she shook her head quizzically.

Joel stood up, rubbing his hands on his jeans before going over to the door and opening it.

When he opened it he was shocked to see you standing there dressed in a pretty white sundress, the bright sun illuminating your beaming face.

“Y/N,” he said with surprise.

“Mr. Miller, it’s nice to see you. Is Sarah here? I have a present for her,” you lifted up a small pink gift bag in your hand.

“Yeah she is, uh…come in,” he scratched the back of his head as you came inside eagerly.

“Y/N!” Sarah screamed with joy as she abandoned her breakfast and darted over to you and immediately jumped into your arms.

“Sarah it’s so nice to see you! Look at how much you’ve grown,” you took her face in your hands and caressed it, her doe brown eyes gazing adoringly into yours.

You had babysat for Sarah during your gap year and during college, while you were at a university nearby Austin, wanting to earn some money. Then once you were done with college you were accepted into a good Graduate program outside of Texas and rarely visited due to your busy schedule.

Joel stared at you.

He remembered you asking him to read over your college essays and him trying his best to make comments even though your work was exceptional. Hell, he remembered you putting Sarah to bed even though she begged you to stay up and watch tv. You had played an important role in Sarah’s development and he appreciated that. And now here you were so mature, hardened from the city life.

“Here’s your gift, Sarah, I hope you like it,” you smiled, handing her the bright pink gift bag, watching as she threw out the wrapping paper.

“Woah a Britney Spears shirt and an Avril Lavigne cd! Thanks so much, Y/N,” Sarah marveled at the contents of the bag before embracing you once more.

“No problem. Anything for my favorite kid,” you winked at her as her cheeks glowed from the praise.

Suddenly the doorbell rang again and all heads turned to the crimson-red door once more.

“Good grief, how many more people are gonna knock on my door,” Joel muttered under his breath as you suppressed a giggle.

You had always had a little school-girl crush on Joel when you babysat Sarah. The way he was always so kind and gentle to you. It also didn’t help how handsome he was with his dark hair that was slightly greyed and his large muscular build, and serious dark eyes. All the girls your age had the same thoughts about Joel calling him a “silver fox.” Joel was completely oblivious to their comments, and if he did know he did a damn good job of hiding it.

This time Sarah ran up to the door and swung it open.

“Lily!” she squealed with delight as a girl around her age entered the house.

“Hey, Sarah, happy birthday! My mom was wondering if you wanted to go to the city mall with us and get a gift for you,” the girl said as Sarah immediately spun towards Joel and gave him her best puppy eyes.

You shook your head and chuckled.

You remembered when she used to do that when she wanted to stay up past her bedtime.

Joel scratched his facial hair.

“I don’t know…”

With that response, Sarah smacked him lightly with the Avril Lavigne cd she had just been gifted, her brown face scrunching up with anger.

“Alright, alright, easy I was just joking,” he chuckled as Sarah narrowed her eyes at him and then skipped away with Lily leaving the two of you alone.

It seemed that Joel had just realized and he turned around and stared at you.

“Oh…uh Y/N you can stay for dinner if you’d like I’m sure I can make something…” he said awkwardly.

You didn’t know why he was being so awkward, he was always normal when you were around.

“That sounds good, Mr. Miller,”

“Oh Y/N, you know you can just call me Joel,” his mouth twisted to the side which made you grin.

“Fine, that sounds good, Joel,” you smiled before plopping onto one of the sofas sprawled out in the cozy living room.

….

Once Joel had brought a warm plate of cookies, the awkwardness between the two of you was over and you started exchanging stories.

“And that was how Sarah got on the soccer team,” Joel wolfed down his cookie before you let out a hearty laugh.

“I can’t believe she got on there with no experience and a broken wrist,” you giggled.

“Yeah but now she’s carryin’ the team,” he said, putting the plate down on the table beside him.

As he moved over to do that simple action, your eyes flickered down to his jeans, they fit so snugly around his thick thighs.

Jesus Christ get a grip, Y/N you thought trying your hardest not to stare at them.

Once the man returned to his seat he spread his legs for comfort.

“Lord, this man is going to drive me insane,” you muttered, rubbing your temples as you could feel yourself growing wet from under your dress.

“You alright, there, Y/N?” the handsome man cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowing with concern.

“I’m alright I just-”

At that moment your car keys flew off your wrist and under the sofa.

“Shit,” you cursed as you bent down under the couch and searched for them.

Joel’s eyes widened and his breath hitched the moment you bent down to reach for your keys, your pretty sundress hiked up and revealed your lacy black panties.

His cock twitched in his pants as he stared at your ass.

“Fuck,” he mumbled thinking that no one could hear him.

But you could.

You peeked at him for a second, watching as his eyes darken as they watched your every movement.

Wanting to tease him more you wiggled your ass, wanting to get a reaction out of him.

He adjusted in his seat, fidgeting uncomfortably as he rubbed his hands on his jeans.

You fished your car keys from under the couch and placed them promptly back in your purse before going over to Joel, kneeling.

“Joel, are you feeling alright?” you kneeled right in front of his thighs, placing a gentle hand on his knee as Joel held back a groan.

He did nothing but gape as you moved his thighs aside so that you could slip in between them.

“Fuck, sweetheart what are you doin’?” Joel brought a hand down to caress your cheek.

“Please,” you looked up at him pleadingly.

“Please what,” his fingers drew shapes into your cheeks as you closed your eyes with bliss.

“Please let me suck your cock,” you placed your head on his thigh, cheeks flushed as he stroked your hair.

“Are you sure?” he struggled with his words as you nuzzled into his thigh.

“I want to,”

Your words sent the blood rushing to his cock as he took one of his fingers and put it in your mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded as you immediately complied, looking up at him innocently.

“Holy shit,” he said as he continued to thrust his finger in and out of your mouth watching as a string of drool pooled from your lips.

You whined, clearly wanting something bigger in your mouth.

“Alright princess, you show me how it’s done,” Joel rested his head back against the sofa as he watched your calculated movements.

You smirked as you rubbed your hands up and down his muscular thighs, then placed one hand on his clothed erection and traced it lightly.

“Uh uh, if you keep on doing that I’m not gonna be so nice,” he growled, gripping your chin roughly, making sure that you locked eyes with him.

You gave him a small smile before pressing a single kiss to his clothed cock.

Then you started working the zipper of his jeans, watching as his cock sprung out, pre-cum leaking from his tip, just waiting to be touched.

Your mouth watered at the sight.

Joel guided your head, pushing it closer to his cock as you wrapped your lips around it.

“Shit yeah that’s it, princess,” he said, his head hitting the back of the couch, enjoying the warmth of your tongue on his dick.

While you took more of him in your mouth you simultaneously stroked him and fondled his balls.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted as he raked his hands through your hair, fisting it tightly.

You moaned at the pulling, the vibrations going straight to Joel’s cock.

You sink deeper into him, wanting to please him desperately as you continued to fondle his balls and wrap one of your hands around the base of his shaft.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praised, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as you whimpered from the praise, growing wetter by the moment.

“Yeah, you like being called a good girl?” he teased, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched you struggle with his length.

Your pussy clenched around nothing as he continued to fist your hair.

You close your eyes with bliss as you continue to milk him while he lets out loud groans that go straight to your drooling cunt.

“Fuck I’m gonna-”

“Down my throat,” you breathe out as Joel completely loses it and stands up, thrusting his dick into your mouth at a brutal pace.

You moan loudly, tears leaking down your face as Joel continues to fuck you, groaning at his pleasure.

“You fuckin’ whore, having a little crush on your boss,”

You looked up at him, whimpering as tears continued to rush down your cheeks.

“Such a pretty little mouth, taking my cock so well,” he moaned as his pace faltered.

You rubbed your thighs together, wanting some friction of some sort to aid your untouched pussy.

Joel thrust one last time and released his seed, painting your throat white as he slipped out of your mouth.

He watched his cum drip down your chin and he almost became hard again at the pretty sight.

“Swallow,” he ordered as you immediately complied and swallowed his cum.

“Good girl,” he whispered as he knelt down to your cockdumb state and caressed your cheeks.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, sweetly.

“Yeah, Joel I’m amazing,” you said as you leaned your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him, threading your hand through his cropped hair.

The man’s breath hitched before he embraced you back, drawing circles on your back with the pad of his thumb.

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“So damn cute,” he whispered in your ear as you giggled.

“You really think so?” your heart swelled with joy at his compliment.

“I know so,” he said as you hid your smile in his chest.

“So when can we meet again?” you asked looking up at him as he looked down at you, his eyes soft and not serious like they usually are.

“Tomorrow Sarah is having her birthday party here and then Lily’s mom is taking em’ skating at the mall in the city so the house will be free,” he smirked as your cheeks heated up.

“I’ll be there,” you stood up, taking your purse and putting it over your shoulder.

“And tomorrow you’ll get your turn,” he said, winking.

You grinned at him before opening the front door and shutting it behind you.

You could not wait for tomorrow.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut

6K notes · View notes

taevbears · 6 months

Text

Movie Night

When horror movies don't scare you anymore, your boyfriend wants to figure out what you are afraid of.

⤑ pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader (feat. the Daegu boys) ⤑ genre: horror, mystery, suspense, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.1k ⤑ warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, depictions of kidnapping, torture, and multiple murders, hidden camera, non-explicit sex, a bit of angst, open ending. this fic gets pretty dark, so please be cautious of the warnings! ⤑ note: happy halloween! this started as a little spooky shower thought i had a little over a month ago and became this lol. i love reading scary stories, but lmao, i feel like i'm not very good at writing them. thank you @angelicyoongie for assuring me that this isn't as terrible as i think it is. also please note that this is a work of fiction and i don't think IRL jungkook is like the character in this fic at all

“No, please! Don’t hurt me!”

The shadow of a muscular, male figure looms over the female protagonist. His breaths are heavy from chasing her around, barely visible against the chilly, October air. Finally, he has her cornered. He holds up a sharp knife in the air.

The woman trembles on the ground, sobbing and pleading for her life to be spared. Mascara runs down her cheeks, and a look of hopelessness and despair fills her eyes. She holds her hands in front of her in a feeble attempt to defend herself.

The camera pans away as the killer violently stabs the woman. Her terrifying screams of pain and anguish echoes from the TV screen as fake blood splatters on the wall.

Blue and white light bathes over you and your date in the dim living room. You try to suppress a long yawn with the back of your hand.

You’re so bored, you’re practically in tears.

“You didn’t like it?” Jungkook asks you, chuckling at your reaction.

“It didn’t scare me,” you admit sheepishly, hoping he doesn’t get the wrong idea.

You love horror movies. It’s what inspired you to become a film student. You love being on the edge of your seat from the thrill and suspense that the main character acts out. You love being genuinely shocked from unexpected twists and jump-scares. You love a good ghost story that haunts you long after the credits roll, or the paranoia of a similar terrifying incident happening to you.

But perhaps, over time, they’ve lost a bit of their magic.

Although the production of movies has become phenomenal in recent years, movies these days seem to rely too heavily on shock value and nostalgia. Once popular franchises are milking out their legacies to a newer audience. There are so many retellings of the same, old stories that you can already accurately predict what will happen before you reach the ending. Even some of the most climactic scenes of the movie are so over-the-top, they’re almost comical.

Honestly, it has nothing to do with your date or even the so-called horror movie itself. You just don’t scare as easily anymore.

Jungkook peers are you curiously, a boyish grin on his face. “Then, what are you scared of?”

“I don’t know. Probably nothing.”

“Yeah? That’s a bold statement.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

Jungkook laughs. “You have to be scared of something.”

You throw the question back at him. “Then, what are you afraid of?”

He thinks about it, rubbing his chin in thought and pushing his tongue against the lip rings on his mouth. Then, he meets your gaze. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he smiles at you. “Hmm, I think I’d be scared to lose you.”

You find yourself smiling back at him.

“You’re so sweet, Kook,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him.

Only recently, you and Jungkook started dating officially, and you really like him a lot. He’s very cute, funny, handsome, and perfect in many ways. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you’re around him, and there’s still that exciting giddiness and eagerness of new love whenever he messages you or visits you in the evening.

In some ways, Jungkook is almost too good to be true.

Part of you wonders if there’s a catch.

But with his lips on yours, it’s easy to push that thought aside.

Credits roll on the screen as the movie comes to an end. His fingers glide up your thigh as yours tangle into his hair. The cool piercing on his lips presses against your bottom lip as he slips his tongue in your mouth, and a soft moan escapes you.

Suddenly, Jungkook pulls away and faces the TV. He uses the remote to tap out of the movie credits and browse through the list of recommended shows on your streaming service. Casually, trying to hide a teasing smirk, he asks, “How about we watch a different movie, then?”

You stare back at him, a bit stunned and flustered. But your own smile touches your lips.

“Or,” you suggest, grabbing his wrist to lower the remote. He turns away from the screen to look at you, eyes lingering on the sultry smile on your lips. “I know something else we can do instead.”

When you first saw Jungkook, you thought you were being catfished.

His selfie on the dating app included a slight head tilt, a pucker of his pierced lips, and a peace sign. Big, doe-shaped eyes stared back at you from your phone screen, and you noticed the tiny moles below his lip, on the tip of his nose, and on his cheek.

The second picture was of him and his brown doberman, affectionately named Bam. The picture was taken of them outside. One of his hands was holding a tennis ball and the other was gently touching the dog’s long ears. A small, fond smile tugged on your lips when you looked between them and realized that they kind of looked alike.

The third picture was him at the gym. It was a back-shot where he was using the equipment. Broad shoulders, buff arms and back, a tiny waist. You stared way too long at his strong muscles and the ink on his arm before you finally swiped right.

Turned out, much to your surprise, he liked your pictures too. The two of you were a match.

And it wasn’t long until he sent his first message to you. In your inbox, a simple: “hey :)”

On your first date, the two of you agreed to meet at a very public, very crowded bistro. You stood nervously by the building, dressed nice for the occasion. And in case anything went wrong or if this Jungkook guy wasn’t who you expected him to be, you shared your location and had a “send help lol” message on standby for your bestie, Min Yoongi.

As you waited, scrolling through and jumping around different apps on your phone, you found yourself to be surprised yet again.

Someone who looked like the guy you’ve been chatting with called out your name. And soon, he was standing in front of you: big eyes, bigger muscles, tiny beauty marks on his face, colorful ink on his arm, a charming smile, and a simple, “Hey, I’m Jungkook.”

One date turned to a second date. Then, a third. And by the fourth date, as he laid in your bed that night and snuggled close to you, it finally started to sink in that Jungkook wasn’t some figment of your imagination.

He was real, and sweet, and seemed to really like you as well.

Jungkook, like you, had an interest in filming. He especially liked editing videos for his dance challenges, short clips, and a series he called “Golden Closet Film” on his channel. While you imagined yourself to be a big director, working in movie sets, and making scripts come to life with your vision, Jungkook told you he’d like to film a project where you’re the star.

“I don’t think I’m on-screen material,” you replied, amused by the idea. You’re not an actress. You don’t think you have the kind of beauty filmmakers seek out for their lead roles. Hell, if anything, Jungkook would be a better fit for an acting gig.

“You are,” he insisted, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “To me, you’re perfect.”

You smiled at him then, your heart fluttering by his words. “You are to me, too.”

It was shortly after that conversation when you both decided to date each other exclusively. And it felt like the kind of romance you’d see in the movies. Picture perfect, a little corny at times, and a thrilling whirlwind of laughter, teasing remarks, and intimate touches.

“Am I who you thought I’d be?” Jungkook asks you the next morning after the movie-night bust, propping himself up on the side and peering down on you. His arm flexes, colorful ink decorating it, as the thick comforter wraps around his bare body.

“No,” you confessed, still a bit tired from last night. You keep your eyes closed as you quietly murmur, “You’re even better.”

“Yeah?”

You don’t need to open your eyes to see the pleased look on his face. As you feel him press his lips against your cheek, you ask, “What about me? Am I who you thought I’d be?”

Had you opened your eyes then, perhaps you would’ve seen it. The blank look on his face as he pulls away from you, how the light in his eyes suddenly seems to vanish, as if he isn’t really looking at you anymore.

Jungkook doesn’t answer you right away. When you open your eyes, you see him shaking his head. The same, sweet boyish smile appears on his lips.

“You’re exactly what I’m looking for.”

The topic about exes inevitably came up early on in your relationship with Jungkook. You’ve dated casually before. Even thought you’d be getting somewhere with some of the guys you were talking to.

But none of them quite compared to Kim Taehyung.

You were a film student. He was a photography major. The two of you were bound to end up in some of the same classes together in the art division.

To you, it was love at first sight. You fell for him so hard and so fast.

What started as bumping into each other at the library and helping each other with assignments led to making out at each other’s dorms with the text books left unopened. Coffee dates between classes became anniversary dinners at nice restaurants. He introduced you to his parents, and you proposed going on a romantic getaway together.

The day you didn’t think you’d ever love anyone else was when he snapped a photo of you looking out at the scenery during that weekend trip. It was just you and him, and a natural setting that looked straight out of a movie.

He smiled to himself as he looked at the picture through his camera. That day, he called you his muse.

And in return, you told him that you loved him.

When you fell for Taehyung, you fell hard and fast. Eventually, it occurred to you that Taehyung didn’t do the same.

Sure, he cared about you. Sure, he loved you. But while you heard wedding bells and dreamed about your future with him, Taehyung was just starting to put himself out there in the world. His art was being recognized, and he was getting booked to shoot at weddings, parties, and other big events every week.

Soon, the dates happened less frequently. The romantic gestures of bringing you flowers, surprising you on nice dates or small gifts, or even renting your favorite movies to watch together happened even less. He would promise that he’d make it to a party or an important event to you, just to let you down. And it felt like him giving you a bit of affection or attention was a chore.

Taehyung was the world to you, but the petty arguments and the distance that started growing between you two made it clear to you where his priorities were. And it wasn’t with you.

Breaking up with him was the hardest thing you had to do. Both of you knew it was coming. It was just a matter of who broke up with who first.

Just as Taehyung came into your life, quickly and effortlessly, he was gone. Nothing but bittersweet memories of what once was and what could have been weighed heavily on you for months.

What made it worse was that Taehyung, a man you loved with all your heart, had moved on from you so fast and so easily.

You saw him and his new girlfriend at a mutual friend’s party. You were warned that he’d be there, that he was already seeing someone. But it still hurt like hell to see him happy and in love with another person.

But if Taehyung could move on, so could you.

It felt weird at first, but you started to put yourself out there again. You joined dating apps. You went out with the people that fancied your interest. You met Jungkook.

And from there, everything was history.

With Jungkook, you started to think about Taehyung a lot less. The plaguing “what ifs” have quieted down, and the hurt from heartbreak began to heal. With Jungkook, you started to feel like yourself again: you started to smile more, laugh more loudly, enjoy watching movies again, became passionate about cinematic ideas you’d like to create one day.

With Jungkook, you’re also cautiously optimistic.

Because like Taehyung, you feel yourself falling hard and fast for Jungkook. It’s almost scary how truly perfect he is.

“I think you’re just psyching yourself out,” Yoongi tells you, sliding into the chair opposite of you with two cups of coffee in his hands. He smells like freshly-baked cookies. A spot of flour stains his apron as he uses his fifteen-minute break to hang out with you.

“Maybe,” you sigh, gratefully taking the drink he hands you. “What do you think about him?”

“Does my opinion even matter at this point? You’re in love with him,” he drawls before taking a sip of his Iced Americano.

“Of course it does, best friend. Why else would I keep you around?” you remark, taking a sip of your own drink. “Besides the free coffee and cookies. Thank you, by the way.”

He rolls his eyes. The perks of being friends with the cookie boy at your local bakery is a free cup of coffee and getting dibs on leftover treats that didn’t sell the day.

“He’s fine. Kind of annoying. A little too energetic,” he answers as his eyes flit toward the TV screen that his boss keeps on. A woman dressed in bright, business clothing holds a microphone as she reports on the recent news. There’s a grim look on her face.

You have your back turned to it, but you can hear Yoongi’s boss turning up the volume.

Breaking news. Missing woman found dead near home. The victim has succumbed to multiple stab wounds. It is believed that she has been kidnapped and tortured prior to her violent death. The attacker is currently unknown and still at large. Local authorities advise staying indoors and to please report any suspicious activity.

Your heart sinks as you look over your shoulder, seeing police taping off the crime scene and answering what they can to the news outlets. The location is so close to where you are.

“This is the second victim,” a customer mutters with a frown.

The person they’re with nods their head and asks, “Do you think they’re connected?”

“I don’t know. I hope not. We’ll have a serial killer in our hands.”

“Hey,” Yoongi calls your attention. When you look at him, there’s concern on his face. “If you need a ride anywhere, make sure you call me. Doesn’t matter what time.”

“I’ll be okay, Yoongi. Jungkook usually comes to my place anyway.”

“Still. Just let me know that you’re still alive when I check in, all right?” he says as he stares at the screen. You don’t blame him for being worried. As you follow his gaze, you see a picture of the latest victim of the ongoing case that has the whole town on edge.

This woman, like the others, kind of looks like you.

“If you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about,” Jungkook assures you, throwing a tennis ball as Bam hurriedly chases after it.

The two of you are at a park with his dobermann. Despite how scary it’s been lately with the news, it’s a nice day. Children are screaming and playing together on the playground as their parents watch them nearby. A group of teenage boys are playing basketball on the outdoor court. Middle-aged and elderly couples are paired up and are getting their daily steps in.

“My hero,” you joke half-heartedly, but you’re still a bit concerned. Yoongi being worried about you makes you feel paranoid.

Jungkook turns to you. He holds out his hand as Bam retrieves the ball and drops it for another throw. “I thought you weren't afraid of anything.”

“Movie-wise, I’m not. But this is different.”

Jungkook throws the slobbery ball again. Further this time as Bam barks happily and takes off. He takes a seat next to you on the park bench. “I can leave Bam with you when I have my evening shifts. He makes a good guard dog.”

He works as an editor and cameraman for a big content creator, which gives him lots of flexible hours to work on his projects when he isn’t busy filming. Since the beginning of autumn, his boss has been giving him evening work to film ghost-hunting videos and other spooky content for Halloween.

“That’ll be nice,” you reply with a small smile. The two of them have been coming to your place so often, it might as well be their second home.

From a short distance, Bam lies on the grass with the tennis ball by his paws. His tongue is out, needing a short break from running around, as he faces you and Jungkook. Even with other dogs and kids around, he’s very well-behaved.

Just as Jungkook tells you that he’ll get Bam, the sound of small, excited barks grab your attention. A familiar black and brown pomeranian approaches you like an old friend, wagging its tail and perking its ears up when it sees you.

Your heart nearly jumps when you recognize the dog.

“Tan!”

You know that voice. How could you not?

That deep, smooth baritone has haunted you for months.

Taehyung, your ex-boyfriend, stops in his tracks when he realizes why his pomeranian took off. The two of you were still together when he adopted Yeontan, and you were there to help raise him when he was still a puppy.

“Who’s this?” Jungkook asks, drawing your attention back to him. He reaches out to pet Yeontan, but the pomeranian growls at him. Almost like he wants to protect you from him.

“Sorry, he’s mine,” Taehyung apologizes, stepping closer to you two and picking his dog up. He looks at you as he tries to soothe the agitated Yeontan in his arms. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you reply politely. Old feelings start to pull on your heart strings that you fervently try to ignore. “I’m good.”

“You look good,” Taehyung starts, but then he purses his lips in regret. It’s obvious that he’s nervous to talk to you. Maybe he feels the same as you.

Softly, you reply, “You do, too.”

“Who’s this?” Jungkook repeats. This time, there’s an annoyed look on his face as he stares at Taehyung.

It puts you off a bit. Jungkook is usually a friendly guy.

“Oh, this is Taehyung. We used to date,” you tell him honestly. Though, the information seems to just annoy him more. “Taehyung, this is—”

“I’m Jungkook. She’s my girlfriend now.”

His arm snakes around you possessively. He holds a steady gaze, but it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. Dark, threatening, and angry. It’s almost unnerving.

“I see…” Taehyung trails off as his gaze shifts toward him. Yeontan is still in his arms, growling and barking at Jungkook. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the pup so aggressive toward someone. Even Bam comes over, ditching his ball to guard over you and Jungkook.

“It was nice to see you, Taehyung,” you tell him, sensing the tension in the air and deciding to cut things off. He seems reluctant to leave.

“Yeah…” he continues to trail off, finally pulling his gaze away to look at you. It looks like there’s a million things he wants to say to you. In a lower tone, he tells you, “My number is still the same. If you ever want to talk.”

You frown. After the breakup, you’ve deleted his number and unfollowed him on social media. “Oh, I don’t—”

“Then I’ll call you,” he promises, firm with his decision.

You don’t get it. You and Taehyung have run into each other after the breakup before, and he’s never had an issue with you dating anyone after him. He clearly has moved on, and so have you.

Why now?

What is it about Jungkook that has him worried for you?

“I don’t like that guy.”

Jungkook is still heated as he drives you home. His grip is tight around the steering wheel, and the tires screech when he makes a sharp turn. Bam stumbles a bit in the back before sticking his head out the window again.

“Slow down, Kook. You have nothing to be worried about.”

The radio blasts in the car, too much in a rush to connect his playlist to the stereo. It’s playing the week’s top music, and a catchy song from a popular artist fills the car.

Curious, you open your phone and check your followers. You’ve unfollowed Taehyung a long time ago on all your social platforms, finding it hard to look at any of his recent pictures – even just his scenic photography – without thinking about how he had once called you his muse.

But Taehyung never unfollowed you. He had always kept his inbox open for you.

“Did you see the way he was looking at me? It’s like he was looking down on me,” he continues to rant, speeding over a yellow light. He glances over at you and sees that you’re distracted with your phone. “I don’t like how you were looking at him either.”

“Are you serious?” you ask, turning your attention to him. “We barely talked. What the hell are you trying to insinuate?”

On the radio, the program is interrupted. One of the hosts makes a grim announcement.

Ladies and gentlemen, we just received unfortunate news that a third body has been found pertaining to a series of brutal deaths.

“You still love him! You’ll go back and leave me again!” he suddenly snaps, throwing you off guard.

Silence follows the tension.

Then, you inquire, “Again?”

The third victim is a young female. Hair color and eye color match the previous victims as well, indicating that this might be a targeted attack by the killer.

Not once have you been unfaithful to Jungkook. Even when you were starting to message each other, you weren’t talking to anyone else. The two of you haven’t even been dating that long.

“Forget I said anything,” he starts with a frustrated sigh. But he realizes he’s fucked up.

“No, I’m not just going to forget it. What do you mean by that, Jungkook?”

As of now, authorities have no leads on a suspect. All victims have been kidnapped, tied up, and tortured prior to their deaths. We are led to believe that this is the work of a potential serial killer.

He nearly slams to a stop. The seatbelt around you yanks you back from hitting the dashboard. Bam falls to the floor and you gasp as the back of your head hits your seat.

Jungkook doesn’t answer you, but for the first time, it feels like the rose-tinted glasses you have on him have fallen off. He’s always been perfect to you: sweet, athletic, talented, and kind. But the Jungkook before you is someone completely different.

This Jungkook scares you.

Stay inside. Lock your doors. Call the police if you see anything suspicious. Be safe out there, folks.

“I told you to forget about it, didn’t I?” he asks through gritted teeth and a harsh look in his eye.

You nod your head, hands trembling a bit as you hold onto your vibrating phone. The screen shows an unknown number trying to contact you.

“Is there a reason why your boyfriend called me?” Yoongi asks you from the other line. He has you on face-time, awkwardly propping up the camera to show his elbow as he mixes a batch of cookies.

It’s been about a week since you saw Jungkook.

After he dropped you off at home, he wanted to put it all behind him. He kissed you sweetly and murmured apologies for overreacting as his hands slipped under your shirt. But you sent him home before he could convince you to sleep with him. You were still upset about how hostile he was toward Taehyung, his accusations about you, and what his outburst meant.

That hasn’t stopped him from trying to get back to your good graces, though.

The number of missed calls from him keeps increasing by the hour. Ones that you leave unanswered or send straight to your voicemail.

You don’t want to talk to him.

At your door, you hear him rapping his knuckles against the wooden frame and insistently ringing at your doorbell. From the other side of the door, he begs for a chance to explain.

You don’t want to see him.

Clearly, after reaching you directly hasn’t worked, he’s starting to contact your friends.

“He’s probably trying to find me,” you tell Yoongi, poking at a bowl of fresh strawberries. You’re still dressed in your pajamas, sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter.

The sound of a small dog can be heard in the background of your line. It dawns on him that you’re not at your place or Jungkook’s.

Yoongi is silent for a moment. Then, he grabs the phone and asks, “What do you mean? Where are you?”

You don’t feel safe in your own home. And that day, while you were in Jungkook’s car, Taehyung called to check up on you. He was always good at reading people, and he warned you that he had a bad vibe about Jungkook.

And you’re starting to see what he meant.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

When you turn your phone, you reveal Taehyung busy in the kitchen, cutting off the crusts from his sandwiches. He looks over his shoulder and gives a sheepish smile at the scandalized expression on your best friend’s face. “Hey Yoongi.”

“Can you please explain what’s going on? Why are you at your ex’s?”

So, you do. You tell him that Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone, that you needed some space to cool off but he wouldn’t let you breathe. It was becoming overbearing and overwhelming.

Against your better judgment, you call Taehyung. He invites you to stay over at his place until you’re ready to talk things out with Jungkook. Because even if you’re not together, he still cares about you. Because a part of him will always love you. And at the time, it seemed like a good idea.

“I didn’t want to be alone, especially with a killer targeting women like me out there,” you explain quietly. It feels like the murders have increased in a shorter period of time. If the town wasn’t on edge before, they certainly are now. “But I was still mad at Jungkook, and he was starting to scare me.”

“So the first person you go to is your ex-boyfriend?”

“There’s nothing going on between us.”

That ship has sailed. You know it has when you walked in and saw his engagement pictures hanging on the wall.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I’m sure he would’ve figured out that I’d be with you,” you tell him with a frown.

“I just wanted to help her, hyung,” Taehyung adds as he stands behind you. “I worry about her too. That guy gives me and Tan a bad feeling.”

Yoongi sighs. “Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea either. You shouldn’t stay with Taehyung. It’ll just make things look a lot worse.”

“I guess you’re right,” you reluctantly agree. Taehyung grimaces, but he can see Yoongi’s point too.

“I’ll pick you up after my shift. You can stay with me until you’re ready to talk to Jungkook,” Yoongi tells you, looking rather serious. “Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime, okay?”

Hey. It’s Jungkook.

You stare at the message on your phone. Three dots that indicate that he’s typing something, but he keeps erasing and re-typing them again. As if he’s trying to properly convey his words.

Are we breaking up?

You stare at that message even longer. It feels childish to break up with him without trying to talk to him. For the first time in a week, you pick up your phone and type back.

You scared me, Kook.

His response is immediate.

I thought you weren’t scared of anything.

You huff when you realize he’s teasing you, even now.

Movie-wise, I’m not. But this. This is different, Kook. You were really scaring me.

Again, you see the dots appear and disappear before a handful of responses appear.

I know, babe. I’m sorry. Can you please come over? I want to show you something I’ve been working on.

You think about it.

I miss you. Bam misses you too.

Yoongi said not to do anything stupid.

Please, baby. We can just watch a movie, if you want.

But, like in every horror movie, the protagonist finds themselves making a plethora of stupid decisions.

Okay, Kook. I’ll come tonight.

Movie nights with Jungkook was one of the things you always looked forward to throughout the week. Nothing appealed to you more than a night-in with your boyfriend, food delivered at your door, and checking out new shows and movies.

You have your list of favorites, but nothing quite holds a place in your heart than a good ol’ horror movie. Tellings of urban legends, supernatural forces, paranormal activities, true crime, and slasher films.

As you step into Jungkook’s house, it almost feels like you’re in one of those movies.

His place is dark, almost pitched black. You could barely see what’s in front of you.

“Come inside,” Jungkook says, grabbing your hand. He pulls you in and deadbolts the door behind you.

“It’s so dark,” you remark, gingerly stepping forward. You have a bad feeling about this. You almost pull back toward the door, thinking of waiting for Yoongi or going back to Taehyung instead.

But Jungkook has a firm grip on you. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”

“This is different, Kook,” you try to reason. “You’re really freaking me out.”

He pulls you further inside. In the living room, nothing but the TV is on. The screen is paused on a homemade film.

This must be the project that Jungkook is talking about.

Everything is set. The living room is clean, a bowl of popcorn and a couple bottles of alcohol sits on the coffee table, the lights are off, and the show is ready to play. He sits you down in the middle and keeps an arm around you.

“You know, when we met, you were exactly what I was looking for,” he starts as he presses play.

The tape shows you. Bam lying on your lap as you affectionately pet his face and kiss the top of his head. You, holding Jungkook’s hand and leading him down a busy sidewalk. You, in the kitchen, trying to swat his hand away as he steals your ingredients. You and Jungkook, peering into the camera lens, and your bashful face as he kisses your cheek.

A smile tugs on your lips as you watch yourself on the screen. Jungkook leans over, copying his onscreen self and kisses your face.

One thing you liked about filming is seeing things from a different perspective. In this case, seeing yourself through Jungkook’s eyes. You look so happy, so incredibly in love with him.

Like with Taehyung, you fell for Jungkook hard and fast.

But Jungkook fell for you harder and faster.

Your smile fades as the next scene shows.

The camera points to the bed, and a couple walks in. It’s you and Jungkook, stumbling in together after drinks at a bar. You’re laughing and trying to wrap your arms around him as he leads you onto the bed. The kiss you share is messy, heated. You tug off his clothes to feel more of him.

You remember that night, but…

“Jungkook. When did you record this?”

You had no idea he was filming you then.

You don’t realize it then, but he makes eye contact with the camera, as if to check that it’s on. He maneuvers you to get a good angle of your body as you busy yourself with your own clothes, wanting him to touch you more as well.

“Jungkook, stop. I didn’t—”

You feel so sick to your stomach.

“Don’t cry, baby. Here, I’ll fast-forward.”

But you don’t want to watch anymore. You want to leave. You shouldn’t have come here.

The screen shows you and Yoongi. The two of you are at the bakery he works at, and you’re wearing an old cardigan that you got rid of . You smile and eagerly reach for one of the coffees in his hands and take the bag of cookies he’s holding between his lips. He rolls his eyes at something you say before he takes his first sip of his Iced Americano. It’s a typical hangout between you and him.

It looks like it was taken across the street. Your heart plummets even further when you realize that the old cardigan you’re wearing was a piece of clothing you got rid of before you met Jungkook.

The scene changes. You’re sitting at the fountain at your university, looking over a script you wrote for an assignment. Taehyung comes to take a seat next to you. He greets you with a boxy smile and a kiss. The two of you were still dating at the time.

How long has Jungkook known about you?

How long has he been targeting you?

It’s you and Taehyung again. This time, it was filmed from the other night. When Taehyung came to pick you up from your house. He helps you carry some of your things into his car and hugs you when he sees the distressed look on your face.

“Jungkook, what the fuck?”

It dawns on you that you don’t really know your boyfriend at all.

You try to stand up, but Jungkook has a firm hold on you. His grip tightens when you try to resist him, and his hand seizes your neck as he pushes you down. Your heart hammers against your ribs when you quickly realize you can’t escape him. Jungkook is much stronger and faster than you are.

More images flash through the screen. It’s Jungkook this time, taking a mirror-selfie of himself dressed in all black. He has his hood up and a Halloween mask covering his face.

It cuts to his feet walking across the sidewalk. Carefully, the camera tilts up, showing that there’s a woman just ahead of him. She’s about your height, her hair the same as yours. She doesn’t notice him as she listens to music playing in her earbuds.

The scene cuts again, and the same woman is bound and gagged on a chair. Fear shines through her eyes as a shadow of a knife reflects from her body. Behind the camera, Jungkook demands, “Say your line.”

He removes the gag from her mouth. Her voice pitches in a high shrill as she quickly says, “I-I love you. I won’t leave you.”

You recognize her as the latest victim of the latest killings.

And the realization hits you like a truck. Jungkook and his night shifts, the increasing deaths, his interest in filming, having you as the star.

“I practiced, you know. I’ll get it right this time,” he tells you, pulling out some rope he had hidden behind the cushion. You’re trembling as he wraps them tightly around your wrist. “I’ll make sure you don’t leave me again.”

“You’re so bad,” the Jungkook on the screen says, showing what looks like an abandoned warehouse. It’s dimly lit, but you can hear someone running from him. But he doesn’t seem worried, his heavy footsteps casually echo across the concrete. In his hand is a sharp and bloody knife. Mockingly, he asks, “Where did you think you’d go?”

The victim has been let go, but she isn’t free. Ahead, she finds herself cornered as Jungkook catches up to her. Terrified, she holds her hands out in front of her, as if that would stop him.

It’s like seeing your own fate on the screen.

The woman begs and screams before her blood splatters across the floor. You find yourself quoting her, staring up at his darkened eyes. “No, please. Don’t hurt me.”

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, staring right at you. His mouth twitches, fighting a smile. “I thought you liked horror movies.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

#movie night os #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #yandere jungkook #bts horror #jungkook horror #halloween 2023 #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic

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akoyaxs · 7 months

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˚༄ Tunutu ✮ Meaning: object of desire, crush ✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!human reader ✮ Meaning: object of desire, crush ✮ Warnings: Reader POV, smutty smut smut,seemingly unrequited love, misunderstandings, size kink, oral sex, p in v, aftercare, fluffy fluff fluff, ✮ Word Count: 12.9k

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To be fair, the reef was different.

At least in the Omatikaya village, the na'vi knew you weren't RDA, that you were only fascinated with their culture and wanting to help. The trouble was, what could one small human do to aid the massive, muscular na'vi who, at every turn, always seemed to be the ones to help you out. Which is why when Norm received a help call from Jake Sully, you automatically offered yourself up for the job.

You had grown up alongside the Sully kids, always growing smaller and smaller in their eyes. Now in adulthood, you were still trying to overcome their teasing that you were still barely above their hips in their more muscular, lithe bodies,

And since the absence of the Sullys and Spider, you hardly had a reason to come around the Omatikaya village anymore. Although the science compound was tedious and cagey at times, you had traded your beautifully beaded na'vi style tops and tewngs for more "appropriate clothing". It was probably more suitable too; the older you got, the less the na'vi clothes fit your stubbornly human body. At least you were larger than na'vi in one particular place.

But as you watched the science labs fade away through the perilously open side of the helicopter, the forest too replaced by a vast stretch of ever-deepening glistening ocean, you felt a small pang inside you. It's not like you were leaving any family or friend, they were not so quite waiting for you at the reef.

Which is when it happened. You saw him.

You were always much more interested in na'vi than humans, how could you not be when they were so much more muscular, smoother, and well, bigger. But you had never seen a reef na'vi before, and on the very off chance you had carelessly thought of the Metkayina, you had forgotten to factor in their physique.

He was taller than any other na'vi you'd ever seen, his whole body broad and muscular and massive, his very toned stomach tapering into a sluttily slim waist for such a broad man and a slight x shape to where his very prominent abs met his ribcage.

As the helicopter settled on the sand, surrounded by a crowd of extremely confused and intrigued Metkayina, he was helping Neteyam keep them back. You shook your head- this was hardly the time to be drooling over handsome new boys when Kiri needed help.

Jake was running over, shouting at Norm and pulling him into a quick hug before he spotted you. He looked tired and strained and stressed, yet still managed to smile and pull you into a hug, clearly forgetting that you're a human and half-crushing you to death.

"Good to see you kid," he grins. "Well, you're hardly a kid anymore."

You had tried to help carry some of the boxes in, yet they were sized for Jake and Norm, and you were quickly left aone by the helicopter, surrounded by curious na'vi. You could tell no one saw you as a threat by the way they stared, as though you were something exotic and adorable and even amusing.

Moreover, you could feel his eyes on you, more weary and suspicious and almost taunting than his people, and you swallowed heavily before nervously making your way through the crowd and following the shapes of Jake and Norm ahead.

So maybe you hadn't had a great start with the mystery guy from the way he was staring, but you soon met him again when Ronal pulled you aside and into a marui.

There he was, standing between who was clearly Tonowari and a sweet-looking shorter girl.

"Oel ngati kameie," you said nervously, apprehensively gesturing and praying to Eywa that your voice didn't actually sound as timid and squeaky as it seemed to yourself.

The Olo'eyktan and the girl looked pleased, but he just continued to blankly and shamelessly stare at you, until your throat felt dry and the silence was starting to make you want to cry. But you refused to play into either of the roles na'vi assume of humans; the evil, power-hungry, trigger-happy demons, or the tiny timid pushovers.

"Jake Sully has requested you stay with us," Ronal finally said. "He believes you could be useful to the Metkayina."

"Well," you say, throat dry and desperately trying to keep your voice steady under the eyes of the four Metkayina. "I'm good at healing- I learnt much from the Omatikaya Tsahìk."

"This is my daughter Tsireya," Tonowari said, looking pleased with you. "She will help accustom you to our village, as well as my son, Aonung."

Instantly Aonung's eyes narrowed, and you feel your heart thud a little at the annoyance on his face at the instruction of him spending time with you.

"Father, first the Sullys and now a tawtute-"

"It is decided," Tonowari cut his son off. "The Sullys may assist you as well, and Toruk Makto tells me you are to have a human home on the edge of the village."

And that was that, apparently. No one asked you if you wanted to suddenly live in the reef, yet you had the Sullys and that was all that mattered. The small human area was hidden in the small forest beside a river and behind the Metkayina village, which was fair given the aesthetic monstrocity of it.

It was another horribly shiny metal demountable shared between you and Spider, each of you owning your own small room with a tiny cupboard, rickety bed and nothing more, and sharing a small space between.

Soon after you moved in, you could hardly get Lo'ak to move out, him and Spider always playing stupid video games and eating the shitty food you had hoarded, yet you took every chance to get outside.

It's not like you ever did much, you even managed to go the first few months without swimming or being in swimmers in front of all these beautiful na'vi, but you were determined to prove yourself.

So day after day, you worked endlessly on anything you could find to be helpful. You quickly learnt the new herbs for healing and how to navigate the bouncy village suspended over the water. You also found out the na'vi women loved your weavings and beadings, your "tiny hands" able to create very intricate works in proportion to their larger bodies.

And you found that Metkayina men were extremely intrigued by you.

You wondered if maybe Spider had blabbed to someone about you, about your greater attraction to na'vi than humans, because you suddenly found the healing marui that you often worked in when Ronal couldn't strangely often occupied by men with injuries that could have easily been healed at home or better treated by Ronal herself.

You also didn't miss their comments about the coverage of your clothing, about how small you were and the softness of your tawtute skin.

Okay so yes, maybe you were secretly crushing hard on Aonung, but the Olo'eyktans son treated you with amusement and cockiness when you happened to interact with him every now and then. So of course you were flattered by the attention of the broad strong Metkayina, and a woman has needs.

All the sexual interactions you share with the Metkayina range from adequate to somewhat satisfying, but the longer you stay in Awa'atlu and the more female friends you make, the more you hear.

All the village girls seem to talk about is Aonung, the prince of the clan. He's not exactly selective about the women he spends his time with, but his precious company is so apparently mind-blowing and pleasurable that it seems to be the most valued thing on the island.

Which is fine.

He obviously doesn't like you that much, and you'd probably have to fight off fifty village girls for that attention from him anyway. He never bothered to accustom you to the village, rather staring and glaring from the back or side as Tsireya befriended you.

And you definitely didn't make an effort to get him to look at you. No, your increasingly smaller outfits are a reflection of your growing comfort in the village and the hot temperatures of the reef. The other villagers liked your outfits though, even if they did find it strange, often asking why you wore such large clothing. So you started to phase out the cargos and massive jumpers with flowy skirts and tighter tops.

Besides, you have options, even if all your admirers are only seeking the thrill and adventure and tightness of being with a tawtute.

A shout of laughter from outside brings you back to attention, and you set down the paste you had been mixing on a small table before quietly moving over to peek out. Just as you stick your small head out, you find yourself suddenly bumped backwards as several figures walk into the healing marui.

Folding your arms and frowning at the rowdy boys, you watch them as they comfortably space out around the marui. You recognise them instantly- the three skxawngs that Aonung always seemed to hang out with.

"Can I help you?" you ask, trying not to raise your brows when Koro laughs and shoves Nashvi forward to speak to you.

"Yeah," Nashvi grins stupidly. "Us and Aonung were out by the reef when an akula attacked, and we got a few injuries."

You can't help raising your brows at this. There are only several small scratches across the boys bodies, the worst only looking five inches long on Ongu's leg. But you have a job, and you aren't about to refuse to help Aonung's friends.

"Alright, sit down," you say tiredly, reaching up to lightly lead Nashvi to the woven mat you heal on.

As you turn to gather some more ointment, you can hear the three boys chuckling stupidly behind you, but when you turn, their smiles are quickly hidden and they don't make eye contact with each other. Shrugging off your discomfort and annoyance, you lift up Nashvi's hair to apply the ointment to the scratches on his back.

They are not easy patients. They're whiny when you touch their miniscule, pointless little scratches, and they chuckle and grin shiftily at each other every time you move. It's an awkward interaction with each, and finally you can't take the silence anymore.

"What were you doing out by the reef?" you ask, in a desperate attempt to make conversation.

"Aonung wanted to hunt," Koro shrugs.

"Where is Aonung?"

They all grin again at your question, and you straighten up and frown.

"Missing your boyfriend are you?" Ongu leers.

You straighten up instantly, a frown fixed on your small face and your fist clenched slightly around the bowl.

"What are you talking about?" you say coolly, turning away from the boys under the pretence of collecting more herbs to add to the ointment.

"You're pining after him," Koro grins. "It's so obvious, all the little looks you shoot him, batting your eyelashes whenever he's around. You're so cool and all with other guys, but as soon as Aonung's around you're acting like a little lovestruck prolemuris."

"I do not," you say hotly, forgetting to act cool and hide the deep flush across your cheeks.

"Please," Nashvi scoffs. "You couldn't be more obvious if you tried."

Your face is growing hotter and hotter, and when you turn around, you find that the three boys have crept slightly closer, so now you're stuck between them.

"I don't have a crush on Aonung," you lie, knowing full well that you aren't convincing anyone. "I don't even like him."

"These little outfits say otherwise," Koro grins, reaching out to pinch your hip.

You jerk away from the contact, the bare skin of your hip between your top and low skirt burning slightly from his touch and the accusation of his words.

"Fuck off," you grumble, pushing at his hands as he reaches towards you again.

"What happened to the sweet little girl whenever he's around?"

"She's about to do worse than those little scratches if you don't stop touching me," you growl, hoping you sound braver than you feel. Hot mortification is spreading through your body. Had you really been that obvious? Koro, Ongu and Nashvi are just laughing stupidly, watching you grow more and more flustered as you try to figure out what to say, or at least how to get away.

"You are rude skxawngs," you snap. "I helped you out, now leave me alone."

"Why?" Nashvi grins. "We're just having a little fun with you, tawtute."

"Why do you wear such big clothes anyway?" Ongu leers. "I know they're getting smaller for Aonung, but if you want his attention you should just take it all off."

You growl as they reach for your clothes again.

"Tell Aonung that-"

"Tell me what?" a deep voice says from the entrance.

Immediately, all four of your gazes flick to see Aonung leaning against the entrance, a small frown pinching between his brows as he stares at his friends.

"That you need to find better friends," you huff, reaching to flatten your hair and pull your skirt down.

"She's just being grumpy," Koro laughs. "We were having a fun conversation with her."

"Yeah, it was real fun," you snap, flushing crimson as Aonung's gaze flicks back to you. "Especially when you kept touching me."

Aonung's frown deepens when you feel his gaze pass over the redness their pinches left over your hip, and you brush your hair out of your face.

"Okay, I fixed up your little scratches," you scowl to Koro, Ongu and Nashvi, as Aonung just stares dully at you. "You can fuck off now."

"Careful with your mouth," Nashvi grins. "You aren't as attractive when you aren't smiling, tawtute."

"Get out," you growl, straightening to your full height, but still shorter than their crouched figures.

They just laugh stupidly, and you're growing more and more flustered and annoyed. You are torn between wanting to shout and curl up in a ball and cry until they get uncomfortable and leave, when Koro pulls the last straw.

"It's a shame that such a pretty little thing has no humour," he grins to his friends. "You know I'd-"

"Out," you shout.

They don't look at all as though they're going to leave, but then Aonung shoots them a certain sort of look you miss, because your heart is pounding fast and angry tears are stinging your eyes.

You're mortified, that they knew about your crush, that they managed to get so far under your skin, that everyone had so little respect for you that they only listen when Aonung tells them to do something.

As they file out, you can hear them snickering to each other, and their gazes blazing on your bowed head as they walk away.

"You can leave too," you say off-handedly, turning away so your back is to Aonung.

"Oh?" Aonung asks, his voice deep and amused. "You're going to kick me out of my own mum's marui?"

"Yes," you grumble, sitting down and glaring at him. "You're a grown man Aonung, you can fuck off out of your mummies hut."

"Also your Olo'eyktan," he points out.

"Not yet," you seethe.

Aonung just laughs, his massive body still leaning against the entrance as he stares down at you, blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Are you alright?" he asks, once he stops laughing. You frown at the slight concern in his voice before glaring up at him.

"Yes I'm fine," you snap. "Now are you done?"

Aonung just stares for a few more seconds before he pushes off the wall and walks over to you.

Oh Eywa's just playing a fucking game with you right now. Aonung reaches out, lightly taking your small head in his hand and gently tilting your face up towards him with a soft hand.

"Is what they said true?" he asks quietly.

"Aren't you the one that finds my crush obvious as fuck?" you snap.

But you don't pull away, and you both know it. Instead, you just stay put little a stupid good girl and stare up at him, waiting for what he's about to do.

"I'm fucking pathetic, I know," you whisper. "I have to work my ass off just to get the tiniest bit of recognition, and this is the longest we've ever spoken. All you do is glare at me from other sides of the village, and I still liked you."

"You're not," Aonung says. "Pathetic, I mean. They're just skxawngs."

"They're your friends," you point out. "They're the ones that knew I liked you, that just come and fucking taunt me and touch me and-"

"Let me see," Aonung cuts you off.

You scowl at him and try to push him away, but he just easily grabs your wrist and peers around you to see your hips, where the mark is still red against your skin.

"It's not a big deal," you growl. "I just don't need shit for having a stupid crush. No one ever needed to know and it wasn't hurting anyone. If I knew what skxawngs you and your friends are, I'd never like you."

"This skirt is thin," is all Aonung says. "And short. Tawtute clothing is strange, but this one is small compared-"

"It was for you!" you snap. "All the stupid dressing up and acting nice and being sweet and trying to be pretty just so you would stop glaring and look at me for ONCE!"

Aonung's frown deepens slightly, like he's confused, like you aren't making any sense. Stupid alien boys, so oblivious to everything around them.

"I am looking at you," he says quietly.

"No," you hiss. "You're looking down on me like always, just because I'm a human-"

Your voice dies in your throat when Aonung instantly sits beside you, his hands picking you up as though you weigh nothing and placing you gently in his massive lap.

Your faces are a foot apart, your hands immediately falling to his shoulder to steady yourself, an unnecessary action given that he's easily holding you by your waist.

"Better?" he asks sincerely, as though he genuinely thought this would help.

You can hardly breathe over the pounding of your heart. You are nervous and pissed and terrified and also fucking horny.

Oh Eywa, how is he doing this- just instantly making you forget everything that happened by placing you on his lap and staring at you with those large blue eyes.

"What are you doing here Aonung?" you say tiredly.

His ears prick up at the sound of his name, the first time he's heard you speak it. You can hardly miss the sway of his tail behind you.

"Injury," he shrugs.

You scoff, and he turns to frown at you.

"I am injured," he frowns. "I went to my mother and she told me to come to you."

"She did?" you ask, confused. "If you're hurt, why would she tell you to come to me?"

"So I could hear your great love confession?" Aonung shrugs, eyes sparkling with amusement.

You growl and make to stand up, but his hands keep you firmly planted in his lap.

"Trying to leave now?" he asks. "Don't you want to help me paksalin?"

"Don't call me that," you hiss.

"You don't like it?" Aonung asks, looking confused.

"You're being mean," you say finally. "Everyone was right about you- you're a skxawng playboy."

"Playboy?" Aonung asks, sounding out the human word with confusion.

"Yeah," you say. "Like a slut."

Aonung laughs in surprise, brows raising at your annoyance with him.

"I thought you were all meek and sweet," he says finally.

"Not anymore," you grumble. "Cat's out of the bag sweetie, so I can go back to being a bitch again. Now let me go so I can help you out."

To your surprise, he instantly obeys, letting his arms drop to his sides so you can clamber out of his lap and collect your paste again. When you turn back, you notice the injury.

"You're hurt."

It's a blunt statement, and you're pointing out the obvious. Aonung has a no shit sort of look on his face, before he notices your concern.

"It's alright," he says gently. "I just got a little scraped by the akula."

"Aonung, there's an akula tooth stuck in your arm," you say, instantly kneeling beside him.

"There is?" he says, sounding interested. "Huh."

"Huh?" you hiss incredulously. "There is a three inch tooth stuck in your arm and you say HUH?"

Aonung just shrugs, and you crouch down to study it, before gently cleaning it up. He hisses a little when you first wipe over the wound, but he just grits his teeth and sits still with patience his skxawng friends could never possess.

"I should probably take this out," you say, once you've wiped all the blood that you can manage to, and placing a comforting, steady hand on the strong muscles of his shoulder.

"Fine," he grumbles.

"I'll be gentle," you promise. "It'll come nice and easy."

"That's what I want to hear," he says, smirking.

Your mouth parts in amused incredulity, and you lightly smack his shoulder as he turns his head to grin cheekily at you.

"Stay still," you instruct. "Straighten up like this, and try not to move too much. Now, just breathe."

Trying to ignore the very persistent flow of blood as you gently grab the top of the tooth, you start to very slowly pull it out.

"Ow," he hisses, his hand instantly jumping to take yours.

"Sorry," you say, giving his own hand a reassuring squeeze, and he quickly shakes his head and swallows.

"I'm all good, just pull it out fast."

"That's what I want to hear," you ask teasingly, and he laughs a little.

His laugh quickly turns into a groan of pain as you use his amusement as a distraction and yank the tooth out.

"Fuck," he hisses under his breath.

"Good job," you say, as though you're treating a child and patting his head like a good boy. "Here, you can keep the tooth as a souvenir."

"Tawtute," he says gently, before you can leave.

"Yeah?"

"You aren't pathetic, liking me-"

"Yeah, you're very handsome and cool and hot, I get it," you say, rolling your eyes. "Listen Aonung."

And he does, looking up at you like a little puppy sitting on the woven floor, waiting patiently for you to speak.

"I never thought anything would come out of my crush, and I don't expect anything to come out of it. I'll get over it, just please, forget about it."

Aonung's slowly frowning.

"Tawtute, then what about the others?"

"What others?" you sigh, eager to get away and just disappear into your bed forever.

"I hear stuff too," Aonung shrugs. "From other guys."

"Like who?" you snap, growing more and more impatient.

It's like he's a little child sometimes, trying to figure out what he wants to say and then actually speaking the words, as though every sentence is taking every fibre of his being to utter.

"Ta'ru, Moy'ka, Khalo," Aonung shrugs. At that, your eyes widen and your face flushes. Those names are extremely familiar, ones that may be found at the bottom of my little black book.

"Oh my god," you groan, covering your face so he won't see your desperate flush.

"They seemed to really like you as well," Aonung grins. "Heard that you can be a feisty little-"

You glower at him and he cuts himself off with a shameless shrug, as though he knows you can't be mad at him.

"Fuck off Aonung," you snarl. "Just because I had a crush on you doesn't mean I'm gonna take shit from you."

"I'm just saying," the Metkayina shrugs. "You have excellent taste in men, but why are you messing around with the likes of Ta'ru and Moy'ka?"

"Well I don't have too many options, do I?" you growl. "How do you think it feels to be someone who's only options are only seeking the thrill and adventure and tightness of being with a tawtute?"

Aonung pauses, like he hadn't thought about it like that. You know he didn't mean to offend, just tease and taunt you just as he had with Lo'ak and Kiri when they first arrived in Awa'atlu, but his words stung deep.

You couldn't just mess around with anyone you liked, because really you only liked him and he knew that, and that pissed you off more than anything else.

"Just pull your massive head out of your skxawng ass for two seconds and see that not everyone has admirers falling out of the sky and at their fucking feet all the time, that I have to work tirelessly to prove myself and that the only release I can scrounge up is with the likes of Ta'ru and Moy'ka!"

You sigh heavily, not exactly regretting raising your voice at Aonung, yet it didn't bode well that you just insulted and shouted at the future Olo'eyktan.

Aonung is just watching you, his large blue eyes flicking over your agitated face, flushed deep pink and your smaller, duller eyes stinging with furious, mortifying tears.

You can't bear the pity in his eyes, can't bring yourself to listen to whatever he's about to say when he opens his mouth.

"I have worked enough today," you say stiffly, careful to act with appropriate respect, "tell your mother I went home and I'll need more pearls and shells for the beadings."

"Tawtute-"

You quickly turn, hating yourself for your timid, cowardly retreat from the hut with his ocean eyes fixed directly onto you, and slip off through the village.

For a moment, you think he might have tried to follow you by the creaking of the woven village pathway behind you, but you quickly manage to slip between maruis and bustling Metkayina and leave the village.

You can feel your heart pounding loudly, everything so awkwardly silent as you run towards your monstrocity of a home that you feel completely alone in the forest.

Spider isn't there when you fling open your door and bury your face in your pillow.

You just sit in silence, face-down and not bothering to take off your expopack yet.

Fuck, you messed up.

You confessed your crush, then flirted with him, then shouted at him, then ran away like the tiny coward the na'vi assume of humans.

Fuck Aonung.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

So maybe you actually were a tiny coward. Yes, you were a fiesty, flaming bitch at heart, but when it came down to the mortification you had faced in that marui with Aonung, not even your sheer stubbornness and determination to shout down anyone in your path could make you leave your home.

So, shamefully, the next days passed with you cooped up in your tiny home, back to wearing your massive ass jumpers over your lazy loungewear. Spider and Lo'ak didn't question your state - you suspect they know exactly what happened - they just moved over on the worn, already cramped sofa and passed you another remote.

The days were considerably shorter than normal when you're self isolating in what is basically a small tin shack, eating shitty food and binging hours of trashy television in the discomfort of your rickety bed.

Which is why, on the fourth morning away from the Metkayina village, you weren't at all surprised to hear the shouts of Spider and Lo'ak's familiar laugh from outside.

You had lazily woken up late in your bra and comfy, heart-patterned boy-short pyjamas that barely covered half your ass and thrown on your massive jumper, which hung a third of the way to your knees, grumbling to yourself that there were the boys outside and you couldn't just spend the rest of the day in your underwear.

When you finally left your room and stomped out to make a coffee in the tiny, tinny kitchen, you were too tired and uninterested to notice the suspiciously gleeful looks shot in your direction.

"Morning," Spider finally chirps.

"Is it?" you grumble, not looking up at your roommate as you slump into the creaky chair by the bench and dully watch the coffee drip monotonously into your chipped, yellowed mug.

Lo'ak snickers at your slumped back as you don't bother turn around to look in their direction.

"Someone's here for you," Spider grins, and you can hear the barely concealed amusement in his voice as you roll your eyes.

"I don't feel being squashed between your and Lo'ak's fat asses and playing video games right now," you sigh. "I can't be fucked for another day spent moping on that old, shitty sofa."

"Aw, is the little tawtute still upset about her little crush on the Metkayina prince?"

"Hardly," you scoff.

You snatch your chipped mug from the machine and just resigning yourself as the coffee continues to drip down onto the tinny bench, no longer having the patience for the infuriatingly slow drip of your greatest necessity before continuing.

"I should have realised what a cocky, brainless, dull, oblivious, pestering, rude, taunting, tiny-dick skxawng-"

"Hey," a deep voice protests from the sofa.

A very familiar voice.

With a surge of horror and a deep desire to strangle and castrate Lo'ak and Spider, you see Aonung grinning at you.

Fuck, how can he manage to look good here, cramped in this ridiculously small shack that barely even fits you, in the horribly white light that flickered every five damn minutes and sprawled casually on that worn old couch?

His large blue eyes are glittering with amusement, looking large and more muscular than ever in the tiny living room.

"What are you doing here?" you breathe, torn between annoyance with the three skxawngs grinning at you, a desire to storm back into your room with your coffee and slam the door in their faces, and a conflicted delight and slight surge of desire at Aonung here in your house.

"Lo'ak asked me if I wanted to play video games," Aonung shrugs.

Lo'ak just rolls his eyes and says, "No, I said you'd been in your room for the last few days playing video games with us when he asked me why you hadn't been coming around the village. Then he said he'd never played video games, and I said I was coming here again, and then the skxawng just decided to come along."

"Right," Aonung concludes, shooting Lo'ak a scathing look.

"Right," you say too, unimpressed and unconvinced. "Well it's a bit cramped in here. Maybe you should leave."

"No, we'll go," Spider grins, nudging Lo'ak, who also smirks. "You guys have fun, and make good choices!"

"Spider!" you hiss, but your two ridiculously infuriating friends had already extricated themselces from the demountable and disappeared between the sparse forest that hid your human home. You can hear their snickers as they move towards the village and away from the situation they left you in.

Some friends.

You huff an annoyed sigh before lifting your coffee to your lips and taking a small sip. You are staring directly at Aonung, who's shifting slightly on the couch, but you're determing to not back down this time.

Mostly because there's nowhere left your you to run away and hide, now that Aonung has invaded your home.

There's a few moments of tense silence where you continue to sip your coffee and coldly study him.

"I brought you shells pearls," Aonung blurts, nose scrunching slightly.

You raise your brows at him, surprised that he caved to your silent coldness so fast. When you don't reply, he continues.

"Like you asked. Before you left. You told me that you needed more pearls and shells for your beading... so I thought... maybe..."

At your continued cool silence, Aonung trails off. You're surprised to see a faint purple tinge to his handsome face.

Is he blushing? Is he nervous?

At this realisation, that the cocky prince of the clan in front of you was nervous because of you, an idea clunks into place.

A risky idea for sure, but it was hardly like you could get any more mortified, and an opportunity like this, to have Aonung like this, didn't come every day.

"Why are you here?" you ask dully, finally setting your coffee down with a decisive chink and pinning him under the full attention of your gaze.

"I - um - brought you the shells and pearls-" he starts to say.

"Not because of the shells and pearls."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. An obvious statement, at that.

"Or the video games," you add, eyes narrowing slightly. "Why are you here, Aonung?"

"You haven't been coming around the village," he swallows.

"I've been busy,"you shrug.

You're horribly aware that your hair is a mess, that you are wearing nothing but a bra and practically underwear under your massive jumper.

Aonung also seems to notice your sloppy and careless appearance, or at least your hair (you pray to Eywa he doesn't notice your clothing, or lack thereof) but he doesn't point your laziness out, which is wise of him.

He reaches for the mask Lo'ak often uses and takes a deep inhale.

"My mother wishes you come back soon," Aonung mutters.

"And you?" you ask coolly. "Ronal would have told me herself- she has no qualms with coming to visit me here by the river. So what do you want?"

A heartbeat of silence. Aonung blinks. You raise your brows.

"I'm sorry."

The words hang in the air for a moment, trapped, no doubt, between the stifling walls of the ridiculously small room, between you seated at the rickety table and Aonung's much larger, stronger body seated at the peeling sofa.

"It's probably good you weren't around the village lately," Aonung says offhandedly, his voice growing somewhat stronger as you don't yell at him again. "Koro, Ongu and Nashvi were in need of some healing."

"From what?" you roll your eyes. "A prolemuris bite? A stubbed toe?"

"Well," Aonung says, looking more encouraged now, "someone may have beat them up a little for teasing and taunting and being skxawngs."

You look up at that, and find an adorably self-pleased expression on Aonung's face.

"And why would someone do that?" you ask.

"Maybe they wanted to show they were sorry?" Aonung grins. "And they knew it would take more than shells and pearls for forgiveness."

"Why do you want forgiveness?" you sigh, leaning forward on the table to stare better at him.

Aonung sits up and shifts on the sofa, clearly making room for you.

You aren't sure you want to, unsure what will happen if you're that close to him, but you can't help it.

Despite your pretences of confidence and annoyance with him that veneered your facade of sweetness and kindness you had hoped would gain his attention and even affection, you were just a people pleaser.

And all you really wanted was to please Aonung.

So you picked yourself off, leaving your coffee to grow cold and doubtless forgotten about on the creaky table.

You settled into the sofa besides Aonung, trying to ignore how annoyingly, incredibly, deliciously massive he is as he blinks down at you.

"You are small," he says. "And meek yet furious at the same time. I can't figure you out at all, and you intrigue me, tawtute."

"How flattering," you say dully, and Aonung frowns, as though that was not the reaction he was expecting. "If you fought Ongu and Nashvi and Koro then why aren't you injured?"

"I'm a good fighter?" Aonung shrugs, looking pleased with himself.

You know that well- the Metkayina training grounds for warriors were across from the village, and the closest marui to it was the healing one you often occupied, given that most injuries came from the warriors.

So when you could get away with it, you would peek out the entrance of the healing marui to watch the warriors train. All large muscular men and lithe beautiful women. But no matter who you distracted yourself with, your eyes would always drift back to Aonung.

The way his jokey demeanour vanished the instant he had an opponent, the swiftness of each of his calculated movements, the way you knew, even though you could never hear, that he was taunting and glaring and ridiculing his opponent between powerful blows.

It attracted you more than you'd like to admit, the way he was effortlessly than the others, the ease with which he could toss his opponents around. And when he won, his muscles gleaming with laborious perspiration and a grin fixed on his handsome face...

It was all very attractive.

"Yes yes," you say instead, biting your cheek to stop from rolling your eyes. "You're very strong and incredible."

"You don't sound convinced," Aonung narrows his eyes at you.

You squint back. He really is brainless, just a pretty hunk.

You said what you said and you meant it - and now you don't need him acting all confused when you don't fawn all over him, batting you eyelashes and twirling your hair and practically sucking his dick.

It really is a cocky, brainless, dull, oblivious, pestering, rude, taunting, tiny-dick skxawng thing for him to do - finally speaking to you, looking at you, even trying to flirt with you just as you decide to let it go, set your sights away from him.

So you straighten up to your full height, still several feel smaller even sitting down, and wait as he opens his mouth.

"You confuse me tawtute," Aonung admits.

"No shit, given that you have as many braincells as men I can pull," you mutter, raising your brows at him.

Aonung huffs in annoyance, and you fold your arms further.

"Bold of you," you scowl. "To act like you're the annoyed one after the other day."

"Well," Aonung huffs, blinking furiously, looking torn between confusion and continued, unjust annoyance.

"Well what?" you snap. "Whenever I'm around the village I'm just the tawtute, and now you come into my house, the only place I can just relax-"

"This is my village," Aonung says stiffly.

You blink.

"Oh," you seethe. "So that's what this is about."

"What?"

"That the entitled Olo'eyktan's son is shocked to have someone tell him how it is, to not be beloved and cherished all the fucking time, to not have someone sucking his dick every-"

"I wouldn't protest," Aonung shrugs, smirking down at you before taking another breath from the mask.

You blink again. Just as you think you've called him out, that maybe a word you say will manage to penetrate through that perfect hair and gorgeous head of his- he manages to prove you wrong.

You just growl in irritation and stand back up, storming back towards your room and not bothering to turn back to him.

As you predicted, your coffee lies cold and dreary and lonesome, forgotten on that creaky table in your irritation with him and his stupid damn confusion with you.

"You can let yourself out."

But he doesn't, he just follows you into your room as you flop down onto your bed.

You glare at him, shocked that he has that much nerve to follow you into your room when you clearly don't want to see him.

Spider definitely wouldn't be brave enough to bother you right now, and Lo'ak or Neteyam probably would also be apprehensive.

But cocky, stubborn Aonung just ducks his massive frame through the doorway - a tight squeeze but he somehow manages - and peers hazily around your room.

Of course, the demountable you and Spider call home was built with Jake and Norm in mind, yet Aonung's head was taller than both other men, his braided bun inches away from scraping the ceiling.

From the bed you continue to glare at him, silent and glowering as he raises his eyebrows at the underwhelming room.

"So this is your room?" he asks, eyes darting back to you. "I always imagined it more..."

There's apparently no words his five brain cells can find, and you roll your eyes again.

"Not everyone can live in the nicest marui in the village," you point out. "Not everyone can live in the village at all.

Aonung sighs again, before his eyes light up and he spots something.

"Don't touch my stuff," you grumble, but he's already stooping his massive body to something.

"What is this?" he asks earnestly.

"What is what-" you snap, before your eyes widen in horror and your mouth parts in silent mortification.

Looking comically small in his ridiculously large hands is your underwear. And to your absolute fucking horror, it just has to be your smallest thong, black and delicate and a little lacy.

"Give that here," you huff, instantly leaping up and trying to snatch it back. Aonung's grin only widens when he realises what it is, and you think you could die of mortification right then and there on your bedroom floor in front of the metkayina prince.

"How come you never wore this around the village?" Aonung chuckles, easily holding it up from your limited reach. "I can promise you, this would grab much more attention than your other tawtute clothing."

You attempt to snatch it back again, face flushed to a deep red now, and he just laughs again.

He looks down at you and frowns at the massive jumper hanging halfway to your knees.

"And why are you back to wearing those cloaks and blankets?"

"It's a jumper," you say hotly, feeling your face flush that the realising that Aonung had noticed you, or at least the difference between short skirts and tanks and your oversized "blankets".

"And it's comfy, much more so then all the little stuff I tried before."

Aonung just huffs slightly, eyes trailing shamelessly over you again.

"Spider wears a tewng," Aonung reasons. "Besides, these things are much smaller than out clothing anyway."

You gape and shove at him. Predicably, his massive body doesn't move in the slightest. Aonung frowns, and you can guess what he's thinking.

Na'vi are completely comfortable in their bodies- which is easy when they're all slim and muscular and tall and perfect.

You on the other hand, are not. You aren't big by human standards by any means, yet the love and affection you harboured for your body when with the humans had slightly dissipated when surrounded by gorgeous na'vi all the time.

So even though you have put in the efforts to dress for attention, you were always careful not to show too much, which is what stirred the attention of the other male na'vi.

What lay below the strange tawtute clothing- what is so much softer and curvier than na'vi women that you keep teasing them with, yet keep tantalisingly hidden.

But then a thought occurs to you, and it makes you... more interested, or so to speak.

Aonung is curious about you- and you know what you want. It's not like you're expecting anything beyond sex- even that is a stretch -with the handsome, desirable na'vi man.

It's not every day you have this opportunity, to have Aonung like this, all curious about you for the first time since you arrived in the reef, despite months of hoping desperately he'd at least look at you.

So the idea forms in your head, the way you can finally get the Metkayina princes attention.

He is intrigued by you, and you have no hesitation to assume that means in the same lustful, experimentative way other na'vi men have been.

"Why?" you grin. "Do you want to see me in it?"

Aonung freezes. His eyes gaze from the tiny thong to you and back to the skimpy, lacy black material.

"I- if you'd like," he says off-handedly, and you smile to yourself.

He's right where you'd like him. Tantalised by the offer you pose, intrigued by what you've hinted but hidden since you've arrived in the reef.

So slowly, he sinks onto your bed and you slide away the little boy-short pyjamas you had been wearing under the jumper.

"Do you-"

You cut Aonung off with a sly grin, slowly lifting your the sides of your large jumper.

"No need sweetheart," you grin. "I'm already wearing some."

Aonung's ears flatten instantly at the word sweetheart, one you know he doesn't understand judging from his expression trying to interpret if that's a good or bad thing.

But then his eyes fall onto you, and you automatically find his hands on your hips and tugging you closer.

And you know you didn't make a mistake.

He lets out a small hiss, as though he didn't even notice he did, at the sight of your body from underneath your massive jumper.

None of the na'vi - besides your casual partners - had ever seen you in something this small before.

None had seen the squidge of your ass and thighs, the smooth supple skin cloaking your curves.

The men had said it all before- how soft you are, how small you are, just how much give you have.

Na'vi women are all lean muscle, yet the pure humanity of your body lies in the squishiness of it, in your ass and thighs and chest and stomach in ways na'vi would never have.

And then Aonung's hands are on you, kneading your ass, eyes staring down at the way your body moves and jiggles with his slightest touch, pupils blown wide as they are when na'vi make tsaheylu.

It's something that never ceases to send a shiver through you - the awe and delight and worship with which na'vi seem to find in your strange squishy body,

Then he's looking at you, and his usually baby blue eyes are dark and rough like the deep oceans. It's exactly what you were hoping for, the hunger and desire in his handsome face as he stares, seated but still slightly taller on your bed.

"Take this off."

It isn't a question or a request, it's a fucking order. For the first time, it strikes you that he really is going to be Olo'eyktan, just by the forceful defiance in his deep voice fuelled by his sudden interest.

Hook, line, and sinker.

You push away slightly and he's frowning like drawing away from him is a goddamn dereliction.

Aonung's impatient, no sooner have you lifted up your jumper over your waist when he's tearing it up and over your shoulders and tossing it into the corner of the room.

"Pxasìk," he mutters, staring straight at you.

It's in no means meant to be a sexy outfit, just a simple thong and bra, but the way Aonung just stares at you is like he's seeing something completely new.

He's not foreign to females- you'd heard quite enough tales about his various exploits, but he looks like a teenage boy seeing his first pair as his gaze flicks up to your face, then he reaches out.

His hands are just this side of too rough, and you can almost feel yourself melting away in his hands that are larger than your head.

You let out a small whimper as he squeezes, and you feel the last strings of his restraint snaps.

Aonung finally picks you up, one hand holding you up by the waist. His casual display of strength is fucking dizzying, and you feel yourself getting wet before he crashes his lips onto yours and drops you in the nest of his lap.

Kissing is not something you are accustomed to when you need to wear your expopack all the fucking time, and you're half terrified about how the last time you kissed someone was a human scientist at least a year ago.

But it's hard to think, so you just lean into him.

The kiss is messy and airless and hardly graceful, but you wouldn't have it any other fucking way. You're all greedy and breathless, desperate for anything, his soft lips against your own, his amber and sea-salt scent, his warm that you nearly forget about everything else and get lost in the kiss.

You've never kissed like this, been kissed like this.

He's just as hungry as you are, but kissing a na'vi is different.

He's just so fucking... big.

His hands are holding you everywhere- your waist, your ass, your tits, your thighs. He's tilting you this way and that and opening you up to deepen the kiss. His face is so large, the force and hunger and ferocity with which he's kissing you practically about to send you bending backwards if it wasn't for him clutching you tight to him.

It's hot and hungry, almost animalistic as his fangs lightly sink into your lip. You moan like a fucking whore into his mouth, and his textured, massive tongue lightly licks the blood away as he shifts.

It's just a warm, horny mess between the two of you, full of teeth and tongue and your tiny whimpers at each movement of his hands over your skin.

And suddenly it's all getting to much, the sudden emptiness in you that only he can fill, and you're gasping for breath and pulling away to stare at him.

Aonung too is breathless, head automatically following yours but you place a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Aonung breathe."

He grunts his objection to your words.

"I can hold my breath underwater for-"

"I can't have the future Olo'eyktan dying on my bed," you say, smiling at his indignation to stop kissing you.

"I'm fine," he grumbles.

"Well I won't be able to drag your massive body out if you do pass out," you point out.

"Aw, are you going to try and rescue me?"

"No, I need to hide the evidence," you quip.

Aonung wrinkles his nose at you, but you just thrust the mask at him. With a childish eye-roll, he takes a deep inhale before disregarding his very vital possession and crashing his lips back onto yours.

You find yourself growing more comfortable. Aonung is hungry for anything, his muscles tensing when you make certain movements, and you find yourself doing them again.

Tugging him closer by his necklace. Lightly brushing your nails up his back. Threading your fingers into his braided bun.

When you lightly tug on his soft braided hair, he growls a little and shifts you closer. When you trace your tongue gently across his fangs, his grip tightens suddenly around your ass.

"You're so soft syulang," he whispers.

The sound of his voice all deep and gravelly, his breath all hot and heavy on your neck, his hands roving over every single inch of your skin, it's all just so.... much.

You miss his mouth on yours, but soon enough it's kissing its way down your neck. Each shaky breath of yours is met with him on your neck and collar, lips pressing, tongue lightly licking at your skin, sucking and kissing.

You were familiar enough with this- na'vi men were territorial creatures. But you had never seen any girls from Aonung's little black book walking around with hickeys, and at the rate he was going, your whole neck would just be one fat love bite.

And you'd be fine with that.

You feel his nose nudging lightly against you, breathing you in as his lips brush over your collar. Scenting you.

His sudden gentleness with you doesn't quite create the friction you so desperately need right now, but his hands trailing and squeezing and exploring your smaller body satiate you. For now.

Then the ferocity is suddenly back, and he's nipping at your body again. A moment later, you realise that he must have only been satisfied because now you smell faintly like him, like amber and sea-salt, yet you know to another na'vi, his mark on you would be almost overwhelming.

When he finally reaches your bra - you could tell he'd been savouring this moment, kissing his way down to it - you can see the hungry gleam in his glittering blue eyes, his tail flicking excitedly behind him and an insatiable smile on his handsome face, fangs poking lightly through his soft lips.

And like you'd thought, he's impatient and greedy and ravenous. He doesn't bother with the delicate clasp, no doubt guessing the struggles na'vi endured with their massive fingers against the small clinch, simply ripping it straight off your body.

"You ass," you gasp, looking helplessly at the pieces of what was once your bra tossed carelessly from the bed. "We live on a fucking island, where am I meant to get another br-"

"I'll make you more," Aonung promises. "I'll make you ten tops."

You highly doubt that- Aonung doesn't seem, or at least what you'd heard about his playboy experiences, like the sort for after care let alone gift giving.

But your half-hearted annoyance and indignance dies in your damn throat when his hands enclose your tits.

"You're - fuck- you're so small, syulang," he grunts, staring wide-eyed down at you.

Indeed, you'd never felt smaller against a na'vi then right now. Held in his warm lap, one of his hands big enough to hold both your breasts, both large enough to wrap around your whole body.

The thought of that makes you moan unconsciously, and Aonung blinks at you in surprise. You don't bother to play anything cool; with his hands where they are, he can feel how hot and nervous and hungry you are.

And when he meets your eyes again, you can see he feels the same.

Suddenly you're being laid back against your bed and Aonung's comfortingly heavy figure is over you, hands holding you tightly as his lips brush against your breasts.

It's an unexpected movement, one that has you arching in surprise, pushing your chest up and opening it all up to him

He goes on without hesitation, licking over your tit gently, grinning a little at your whine, the stark contrast of your smooth supple skin against his rough tongue just driving you fucking crazy.

He wraps his lips around your nipple and suckles at it, before he nips lightly at the underside of your tit.

And then you're arching and whining and tangling your fingers in his hair, and then he's kissing down your stomach and sliding away your thong before you even know what's fucking happening.

"Wait!" you gasp, cupping his face away from your cunt to get him to look at you.

"Yes, syulang?"

"This is your first time," you say, trying to swallow heavily. "With a human."

Aonung just blinks, looking confused and slightly offended that you're stopping him from doing as he was going to.

"Don't... um... I should be making this good for you," you breathe shakily. "I want to make you feel good- to... um..."

Aonung just laughs as though you're being hilarious, and reaches up to pat your hair with one massive, warm hand.

"Mawey tawtute," he grins. "I want to make you feel good too."

"But-" you say, face twisted with worry, but once fucking again, he manages to kill your words.

He kisses the soft, squishiness of your thigh, inches away from your bare pussy, and you gasp lightly as he sucks a sweet purple bruise into the soft skin.

Then, eyes looking carefully up at you to see your reaction, he lightly sinks his fangs into your leg. You gasp so loudly you think they might hear you in the village, hands instantly leaping to find balance in his braided hair.

The sting is a welcome, warm pain, especially when he lightly licks away the droplet of blood and brushes your clit with a large turquoise finger.

You can't speak, just scrunch your nose tightly, grip onto his braids for dear life as he muscles his way in between your thighs and goes to fucking town.

His mouth is fucking massive- his hands are massive, pinning your hips down.

You're squirming from the moment he gets onto you, sucking lightly at your clit, a delighted, puppy-playful glint in his large blue eyes, tossing your legs over his shoulders so his face is pressed even closer to you.

He suckles at you so eagerly, tongue stroking over your hole, over and over and over. You can't help it, the way you're simultaneously squirming away from the overwhelming pleasure of it all and the way you're rutting your hips into his face.

"Fu- fuck, Aonung."

It's all messy, you're so wet, his face is shining with your slick and his spit, and he slides a finger back and dips it in.

Instantly you gasp, jolting upwards and arching your back high to the ceiling. Aonung's about to grumble at your squirming when you tug at his hair and he groans.

"Sorry, sorry," you whisper, flushed with mortification.

Aonung just looks up at you and grins, kissing your hip lightly and mumbling against your lips,

"Go ahead syulang."

He slides a second finger in beside the first one, easing them together, fuelled by your breathless moans and groaning into your clit as you tug at his braids with each helpless squirm, his deep rumbles vibrating warmly against you.

He has a look on his face that tells you plainly- he's enjoying this as much as you do. It's in the glint of his eyes and his wide smile.

And the way his tail is thumping happily behind him, unrestrained and untethered, telling you one thing.

He's fucking hard.

You notice it by the way his hips are tilted, rutting slightly against the mattress, but he seems unwilling to take his hands away from you, from the curve of your ass and your slick.

And you want to help, so you squirm a little more to slide down to reach him.

"Aonung, don't you want to just-"

"Just one," he pleads, looking up at you.

It's crazy, how someone that's twice your size and has no fucking idea what it is can look as an adorable as a puppy when he wants to.

And who are you to deny the Metkayina Prince?

So you just accept your fate and hope to eywa you don't black out too fast, clinging to his braids and trying to muffle your moans into your hand.

Your legs begin to shake around his head, eyes rolling all the way back as you moan louder and claw at your rickety brass bed head.

Then, when you accidentally jerk and squeeze your legs around his face, he moans shamelessly against you and that's all it takes.

With a hand clasped tight over your mouth to muffle your moans of pleasure, coming undone on his tongue, clamping down on his fingers and leaping head first off the edge you'd been teetering on.

You have no idea what to do, just know you're rocking aimlessly against his face, crying out and holding onto him for dear life.

He continues through it all, licking and kissing and nipping and sucking with such fervour that you think he might just pull your soul out of your pussy, eyes watching you with desperate lust yet also with sweet curiousity.

Whether you're conscious or unconscious you don't know, all you can sense is the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing again and again over you.

"Holy shit," you breathe, finally coming down and lightly tugging at his braids. "Aonung come on, let's find something for you."

Aonung frowns, clearly wanting to keep going, but he obliges when you grin and brush your fingers over his face.

He's all dopey and messy and gorgeous, face shining like the fucking ocean, but he just wipes it carelessly and moves back up your body to shower your chest and neck with more kisses and light nips.

"Aonung," you say gently, squirming slightly underneath him.

He just grunts to show he's listening, flicking your nipple lightly with his large, rough tongue. You fight back your broken moans so you can speak.

"I want to fuck you," you whisper.

That gets his attention fast. You nearly laugh at the way his head snaps up, eyes wide with surprise, and he tilts his head.

"Syulang, we have time, we don't have to-"

"No," you growl, frowning and trying to get him to understand. "You can kiss any girl anytime, see any tits any time, but this is the only time I'm ever going to have you and I want to do everything."

Aonung blinks, looking surprised, before bursting into deep, rumbly laughter that makes you scowl.

"What?" you grumble, annoyed and reaching to cover your tits.

That makes him grumpy, and he easily just pushes your arms away so he can pillow his chin between the cleavage and rest his face to look up your body at you.

His massive body, double the proportions of everything you have, is a comfortable weight over your smaller body, his hands absentmindedly stroking your soft skin.

"I'm not going to see any tits any time," Aonung says simply. "These are my favourites."

"You-" you wrinkle your nose at him to hide your annoyed smile as he licks lightly over your breast, then sucks a little hickey into the underside of the soft cleavage.

"Tawtute, you're all soft and smooth and squishy."

You let out a breathless little laugh, amused by the childish simplicity with which he expresses himself, stroking his large face fondly.

"But I don't want to waste our time when this is the only-"

"It doesn't have to be the only time," Aonung shrugs, blinking at you. "You can come to me whenever you like."

That's a layered statement. Whilst that has you reeling with delight and satisfaction, you can't help wishing that maybe he would come to you, that maybe he'd ever want this more than you do. Want you more than you want him.

"Or I'll come to you," Aonung amends. "But if I come to you whenever I'd like, you'd be getting sick and tired of having me around."

"Why don't you find out," you whisper. "Just how tired you can make me."

And with that, you're in agreement.

Placing you in control, he rolls over onto his back, careful not to crush you, and lifts you lightly to rest on his chest.

You reach out to tug at the band of his loincloth, your fingers quick and desperate and practically scrabbling at the knot, and Aonung watches with amusement and curiousity.

Finally, it's untied and you draw it away. And fuck. He's naked.

The prince of the clan is naked in the bed, straddled under you, staring up at you like he's never seen something so... precious.

So yes, maybe you've imagined this a million times. Thought about him naked, here, in the reef, in the river, in the marui, in every possible place.

For a human, you can be a horny little thing sometimes, and the thing that fuelled that most was your little crush.

But now he's here, and you're eager to see him.

All na'vi are big compared to you, every na'vi cock you've ever seen and felt and took is just large and beautiful and big, but Aonung just seems obsene.

Never once, in all your filthy imaginations, had you truly dared to factor in the sheer size of him. Just by looking at his massive muscular body, one could guess, but they'd still have their fucking minds blown.

He’s big. So fucking big it has your eyes bulging and heart thumping and mouth almost watering. His cock is just as beautiful as him, just as smooth pale blue with the delicate darker stripes and glowing tahnì.

When you reach out and touch it, his hips jerk slightly and his pupils widen as your smaller hand closes gently around it.

Fuck, you need two hands to hold it. It's heavy and hot and obscene in your small, smooth hands, and you look up at him with amazement.

He's just staring back, waiting for you to do what you want with him. Whatever you want.

You shift your hand down, too small to hold all of him but he groans anyway, feeling warm and sticky precome gushing from the tip to coat your fingers.

"Fuck, syulang, so good," he grunts, seemingly mindlessly rocking his hips up into your hand.

You just want to be good for him. To make him feel good, in any way near the way he made you feel, to repay him.

But at the same time, the heavy weight of his cock, let alone the sheer damn size of it, has your head spinning and mouth watering. You want it stretching everything inside you, bullying its way into you, fucking its mark deep into you until you're ruined for anyone else.

You just want everything.

It's greedy of you, you know that, to be lusting after what might quite literally be the most unattainable man in the clan, but you can't help it. From the moment you set eyes on him, that's all you wanted, him as yours.

But since you can't have that, you'll just have to make this time worth it, get him to fuck you enough to last a lifetime without him.

"Come on," you grin. "All this for me?"

Aonung grunts as you tighten your hand slightly around his painfully hard cock, eyes studying the way the tahnì's light flickers and shimmers with each of your movements, the way he pulses in your hand.

"You have me now syulang," he mutters. "You don't need all those big, stupid guys."

"You are literally the stupidest guy ever," you point out. "But also the biggest."

At the last word, you lick a stripe up his length, and his hand jumps into your hair and he chokes out a groan.

"Even your tongue is smooth tawtute," he mutters, almost to himself.

"I'll try my best," you say, pulling back a few inches to study his dick. "I've never done this with a na'vi before-"

"It's alright," he whispers, trying to pull you closer, and you frown.

"I want to do this," you pout. "Please- it just might not be very tidy."

Aonung tries to pull you away, tries to hide the way his cock is pulsing, but you can feel each heartbeat through the heavy weight in your hand.

"Come syulang, we have time later," he pleads. "You wished to fuck."

"I don't want this to be over too soo-"

"I will come every day if that's what you'd like," Aonung huffs. "Just let me make you feel good."

So you oblige, pushing hard at his shoulders, and he lies back onto the pillows as you lift yourself up and straddle him.

"Are you sure?" Aonung asks, furrowing his brows at you. "You are small and-"

This time you're the one to cut him off, rolling your hips fluidly over his much larger ones, feeling your whole body tighten at the new friction of your slick and throbbing clit sliding up along his hardened length.

He doesn't protest again. He just lets his hands fall to rest on your hips, sliding your smaller body on his before bringing you down to grind harder.

You moan and he lets out a small noise in his chest, and it takes you a moment to realise he's purring.

Surprisingly, he doesn't seem abashed by the sounds he makes, instead he just rests his head back against the pillows to watch your movements with eyes darkened with lust.

You can feel that familiar heat growing rapidly, too rapidly, between your legs straddled either side of him, so you quickly lift off his hips. Thankfully, Aonung seems to understand, or maybe the teasing is just too much for him too, because he helps you line him up with your entrance.

At the slightest movement, your legs stretching further to lower yourself onto his cock, you know it's going to be a stretch. More than any fingers, any cock, anything you've ever taken, and you think he knows it too, by the way he's staring so avidly at you.

But you're impatient, hardly caring how much you get hurt, just wanting him inside you, stretching you, marking you, ruining you, and you drop further down so the head of his cock starts to press into you.

And then you're dropping further, hair cascading messily all over you, lips bit tight to hide your pain before the massive hardness of him slides past the ring of resistance and starts to smoothly sink into you.

You cry out and Aonung hisses.

"You're- fuck, you're so tight syulang," he groans. "The others did not lie."

You can't answer, sinking further down, head lolling back at the overwhelming stretch of it all, hands resting firmly on his chest to anchor yourself.

Aonung's breathing heavily, his eyes blown wide to black moons ringed in a thin line of pale blue, and you can see he's trying to control yourself as you grit your teeth and sink further onto him.

You're whining and whimpering and he half-looks like he wants to stop out of concern for you, but you shake your head at him. Instead, he sits up, cradling your small figure against his massive chest and takes control, sliding in.

And in. And in.

Just when you think there's no more left for him to go, he keeps going. He lets you sink your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your sharp cries, gently smoothing your hair and whispering comforts and praise to you while his other hand reaches down to rub circles on your throbbing clit.

The stretch in you feels so tight that you doubt you can move, and Aonung hisses again as you clench around him.

"Just a little more, paskalin," he whispers, biting back a groan as he rocks another inch into you, your silent tears streaking his chest, your whimpers and whines practically injected into him through your mouth on his shoulder.

"You're so big," you choke out, gritting your teeth as he pushes in another inch, which seems literally fucking impossible.

And fuck, he's still got a few inches left and there's just simply no more space. You frown with frustration, but then he's dropping your remaining weight onto him and buries himself deep inside you.

You cry out, face twisted in the delicious mix of blunt pain and sharp pleasure, and Aonung just remains there, holding you close and sheathed within you, letting you adjust and clench and breathe heavily.

"Holy shit," you groan. "You're right here."

The bulge of his dick is evident in your body, and you lay a breathless hand over it. A sick part of you wishes it'll remain there forever, his mark fucked into you long after you can't fuck him anymore.

He too takes a breath, lazily and careless from his mask, before laying it back down and finally starting to move.

The stretch is a delicious burn as Aonung rocks his hips deeper, until he's as far in as he's going to get, before he pulls out an inch and makes his first, experimental thrust. To his delight, it has your eyes rolling back and you arching your tits right into him.

His lips find his way on your neck, your nails digging into his broad back as he rolls his hips and thrusts deep into you. You can't hold it back anymore, moaning shamelessly like a whore into his ear all the while scratching your mark into his back.

He, in turn, is moaning and cursing against your neck, his mouth all messy, nipping and kissing along your neck and collar and chest.

It's all just a test, really. Sensing out each others bodies, learning what you like; there's nothing about this you dislike.

You love the squeeze of his hands on your curves, knowing he loves your curves just as much- judging the way he's pinching your ass, kneading your tits and tracing the little squidge of your belly.

"So good syulang," he whispers when you clench around him again. "You're doing so well."

He's whispering nearly unintelligible things against your neck, words of worship, mutters of how tight you are, little praise of how well you're doing.

You just cling onto him, moaning shamelessly into his ear, arching further and further with every deep, forceful thrust, feeling as though he's fucking your soul straight out of your body.

If he hadn't been holding you up, you think you may have just turned to jelly and flopped backwards, yet his hands are warm and present on your back.

You shift slightly, up and down, trying your best to meet each of his thrusts, and there it is. The start of the knot, the one you begin to pull, to unravel.

And then he knows it, because all of a sudden he's speeding up and thrusting deeper and rubbing circles on your clit, and you're a moaning mess, hands raking through his hair and over his back, gently caressing his face and digging sharply into his waist.

All it finally takes is the nip at your neck, the soft whispered shower of desperately spoken words you can't even hear, and then you've tipped over the edge.

Aonung just fucks you through it all, cradling you body and still muttering those words you can't make out. You're making a fucking mess, your sharp cries and moans and whines tearing through the home so loudly you'd thank Eywa forever that Spider's far away in the village.

And then when you still, the change that goes through Aonung is surprising. He had been rough by human standards, but it never seemed to strike you just how gentle he had been until he just loses all vestages of control.

He's moving at animalistic paces, and you're unravelling into a moaning, trembling mess under him, teeth sunk into his shoulder to try and quiet your sounds, because you sure as fuck can't hold them in.

You yelp as he speeds up now, brutal and animalistic as the last tenterhooks of his strained restraint snaps and he buries himself deep inside you. He's hissing a million unintelligible words against your skin as he spills himself inside you, rocking his hips the whole time until he finally comes to a shaky stop.

It's all just quiet. And still.

No words are spoken, just your faint moans every now and then in the aftershock of your earth-shattering orgasm.

After a moment, when you finally start to return to yourself somewhat, you realise he's layed back against the bed, you curled lightly on his chest. His arm is tented protectively over you, your own wrapped tight around his own chest, your hair spilling over your shoulders onto both your spent, slightly sweaty bodies.

Then he finally moves, a small shift to pull you even closer, gently slide you up his body you you're in his view, when he can nuzzle lightly into your neck.

You whimper at the sudden cold emptiness inside you as he lifts you off him and closer to his face, but he lightly kisses all over your flushed face, once, twice, again and again, soft, gentle brushes of his lips over your shining skin.

"Are you alright, syulang?"

You can't answer. Aonung, the prince of the clan, the guy you've been crushing on since you came to the reef, the one that was the most unattainable man in the reef, had just fucked every morsel of animation out of your body, and is now cuddling you close.

"Why are you doing this," you manage to say weakly.

"You do not like having me here?" Aonung asks, brows furrowing in confusion, looking slightly hurt.

"No," you say quickly. "But you don't have to stay here with me- you're free to go if you wish. Don't feel like you have to take care of me."

Aonung's frown deepens, but he just nuzzles closer, his face pillowed with your soft, raw breasts.

"I will stay," he says decisively.

"But you don't," you say quietly. "I've- I've heard things, that you are just... well... slutty. We both wanted sex Aonung, you don't have to feel obligated to help me, especially when you never did with others before me."

"I will stay," he says again. "I want to stay with you, syulang."

It's strange. You don't feel uneasy, but you're not used to cuddling after intimacy, not with men only being with you for the experience of fucking a tawtute, not when you're wearing your expopack.

But now, for the first time, you're just spent the fuck out, collapsed on top of the future Olo'eyktan, being praised and kissed and cared for by the elusive, unattainable Aonung.

And then there's the problem. The fact that Aonung has lit a flame no others will be able to fuel, the fact that he's made you come harder than any other ever will, the fact he's stretched you to the point no other will ever be able to fill.

"I think you've fucking ruined me," you mumble sleepily into his neck.

"Have I?" he asks, sounding slightly pleased with himself.

"For anyone and everyone."

So there's just the question left, the one that's been ringing in your brain since he kissed you, since he touched you, since you came so hard your vision went fuzzy.

And you know there's never going to be another chance to ask it. So here fucking goes. But then he answers it before it even leaves your raw lips.

"You will not need others syulang," he growls. "I will take care of you."

And you think you could melt away. All you wanted.

It seems impossible that this is happening- maybe he fucked you so well you simply passed away, and your heaven was just him caring for you. Maybe you're still fucking dreaming, and you haven't woken up, and Lo'ak and Spider will be playing video games outside on that shitty old sofa.

But then you reach out to tentatively touch his face, and you know it's real.

He's still breathing raggedly, and you pass him the mask.

"Breathe, Aonung."

"I-"

"I don't want you passing out before you can finish what you were trying to say," you reprimand him.

Aonung laughs slightly and obliges, before setting his mask back down.

"I liked you too, tawtute," he whispers.

"Fucking hypocrite," you hiss, your supposed annoyance at complete odds with your uncontrollable, delighted grin.

"I liked your sweetness," he grins, kissing your nose. "And kindness and determination. You asked why I did not speak to you- I was ashamed."

You blink in surprise, and pull back a few inches.

"Not of liking you," Aonung continues. "Ashamed that for the first time in my life, I was nervous. You made me nervous, with all your perseverance and tawtute clothing and cuteness."

You shut him up, crashing your lips onto his and snake your hands around his neck.You kissed him.

You can feel his heartbeat picking up against your chest as he shifts, one of his hands on your waist and holding you up so your faces are closer, the other tangling in your long hair.

He smells good, like amber and sea-salt, and his lips are so soft and warm that you nearly forget about everything else and get lost in the kiss.

And it means everything that you don't need to speak. Who needs tsaheylu to read each other when you can kiss him like this?

"I will make you those tops I promised," Aonung says, pulling away. "And I can order a new hut. If you prefer your tawtute clothing, teach me to make you more."

Fuck.

This is better than anything you could have dreamed of, imagined in those long afternoons in the healing hut staring lustfully at Aonung from afar.

And now he's here, cuddling you, offering to make you gifts and asking what you like.

"My little tunutu," he whispers.

The words send a shiver through you.

The same way you'd felt this whole time, wanting all of him with everything you have, desperately willing to give whatever you have to offer.

And now he feels the same.

Tunutu.

My little desire.

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