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unclewaynemunson · 9 months

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It wasn't the first time Eddie woke up to an empty bed after having someone spend the night. But it for sure was the first time it caught him by surprise.

He had been pretty sure things were different, with Steve. There was a real, proper date before they ended up in Eddie's bed together, after all. They held hands, they cuddled, they did all the romantic shit that Eddie used to scoff at and skip right past, before he got to know Steve Harrington. It hadn't felt like it was just about the sex: there had been tender touches and sweet words and soft kisses, and falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards had felt more intimate than anything Eddie had ever experienced before. So it didn't make sense to wake up and see no trace of Steve. No note, not a single piece of evidence that Steve had been there, not even something as dumb as a forgotten sock. Nothing.

As he went through his morning ritual of coffee, cereal and cigarette, he felt confusion make place for anger. By the time he was dressed and looking at himself while brushing his teeth in front of the crappy old bathroom mirror, he wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think that Steve would stay. The realization that Steve had apparently only used him to get what he wanted and dropped the act as soon as that happened, made him feel gross. He spit out his toothpaste with way more force than necessary and jumped in his van to tell Steve exactly that Eddie wasn't the kind of guy who tolerated being toyed with like that.

-----

When Eddie barged into Family Video, Steve was standing at one of the shelves with a big pile of tapes in his arms, the store empty and quiet except for some movie playing on the big screen in the background.

He looked up at the sound of the bell, and actually had the audacity to smile a soft, almost tender smile when he saw Eddie coming in.

"Hey there."

And, well, that truly did it for Eddie.

"Hey there?!" he repeated in a loud, shrill voice. "Seriously, Steve? What the hell, man? You sneak out of my bed after making me think what we did actually meant something, and now you greet me with a "hey there" like nothing has even happened?!"

Steve frowned; he looked genuinely surprised. Seriously, had none of the dozens of girls he probably pulled this on ever told him off? Or were they all worth staying for, contrary to Eddie the Freak Munson?

"Wha- What do you mean, making you think it meant something?" Steve stuttered. "It meant something. At least," he shrugged lightly and his cheeks colored into a light shade of pink, "to me it did."

For obvious reasons, Eddie found that a little bit hard to believe.

"Then why the hell did you sneak away at the crack of dawn like it was just some goddamn one-night stand?!"

Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds, his mouth falling open. Eddie had seen him look confused plenty of times before, but never like this - like he was missing something huge.

"I - I was allowed to stay?" Steve finally uttered. And it sounded so genuine, so small, so lost... All Eddie's anger easily got knocked out of him with that one question.

"You thought you weren't allowed to stay?" he asked, in a much softer voice this time.

Steve shrugged, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Yeah, I mean... I just assumed..." He swallowed visibly, seemingly searching for words. Finally, he fixed his eyes back on Eddie's face. "You actually wanted me to stay?" It sounded equal parts confused as hopeful, and the look in his brown eyes was so soft and innocent that it almost broke something inside of Eddie.

"Why the hell did you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno, I just thought..." He looked away again, to a point just behind Eddie's shoulder as he continued, "Whenever a girl would come to my place, they'd always leave right after we finished. Or when I'd come to theirs, they'd have me leave through the window before their parents would notice. Some of them wanted to cuddle for a bit afterwards, but not, like, the whole night, y'know."

"Fuck, Stevie... I -" Eddie could barely believe what Steve was saying; it truly blew his mind that there were so many people who could have Steve Harrington in their bed and not want to keep him there forever. It made him furious - not at Steve, obviously, but at those girls who had made this perfect boy believe that he wasn't the kind of person people would want to keep around for what came after the sex.

"Falling asleep with you last night... That was the best thing that ever happened to me," he told Steve. It felt vulnerable, to say it out loud, but he knew he had to get it all out in the open. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things we got up to before falling asleep were also pretty damn mind-blowing..." He couldn't help but chuckle. "But of course I wanted you to stay. I thought that would speak for itself."

"Oh," was the only thing Steve said, just blankly staring at Eddie for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes widened as Eddie's words finally seemed to sink in. "Shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," Eddie cut him off. "Can you uh," he nodded towards the video tapes in Steve's hands, "Put those away, please?"

Steve placed the pile on the shelf behind him and Eddie immediately launched himself into his arms, pulling him as close as humanly possible without crushing his bones.

With a surprised Oomph! Steve took a few stumbling steps backwards before he caught his balance again, and hugged Eddie back just as tight.

"I'm really sorry, I messed up," he said, his mouth close to Eddie's ear. "I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have left, seriously. I would've called in sick and made you pancakes, and I would've stayed with you in bed all day."

"It's okay," Eddie repeated. "I mean, it's frankly ridiculous that you'd assume I wouldn't want you around every single fucking morning from now on, but -"

"So can I make it up to you tonight?" Steve interrupted him, an eager undertone to his question. "Or actually tomorrow morning, I guess?"

Eddie leaned back slightly to see Steve's face. He was hesitantly smiling at him, and Eddie gave him a beaming smile in return. Then, he leapt forward again to press an impetuous kiss against Steve's lips.

"How 'bout you make it up to me every day from now on, big boy?"

"I dunno, making you pancakes every day from now on is a bit much, don't you think?"

Eddie laughed. "Then the deal's off, sorry."

"What if we take turns?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Alright, I think I can live with that," he finally concluded, letting Steve pull him closer again to steal another kiss. And as long as he could taste Steve's lips, he couldn't care less about pancakes.

#look i know we all go crazy for the trope of steddie waking up and being surprised the other is still there #or one of them waking up to an empty bed only to find the other in the kitchen making breakfast #but have something a lil more painful instead i guess #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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snowsinterlude · 4 months

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melted snowflake.

(coriolanus x plinth!reader)

summary: coriolanus never thought he would fall into his own trap. his plan wasn't falling for you. no, it was the contrary, he was supposed to use you. but god, you were so perfect for him.

based on this ask!

c.w: snow being a bit of a jerk, manipulation, jealousy, plinth reader x coriolanus snow, snow being head over heels with you, fluff (?)

you were a district girl, of course. your parents made sure to take that out of your head, but you couldn't simply forget about everything you lived in the districts. you were a child, but it didn't mean you were dumb or blind not to caught up on the things surrounding you.

the first time you saw snow was when your father met panem's president and left you to play on the kindergarden with your brother, sejanus. of course, it didn't go as planned when you were pushed away by a random kid and he protected you and your brother.

of course, after that, he never talked to you guys. a snow is not supposed to talk nor look at poverty with kindness. that's what his grandma'am taught him.

with this being explained, neither him nor his grandma'am expected your family to get richer than the snows, but after his father's death it was only natural they would be poor.

"y/n?" he approached you, now at the academy. he was a beautiful young man, often obtained your attention because of how much praise he recoeved from teachers and others. even though you were rich now, of course you wouldn't fit in as well as he did. not when you and your brother disagreed with everything the capitol kids stood for. "i'm sorry to interrupt you, but the teacher assigned us to do our assignment together." it was a lie. you could tell right away.

but why not see where he'll go with this?

well, that's what you decided to do. every lie he told you made you want to slap him from how dumb he seemed to think you were.

everyday you would caught him staring at you, at your eyes. stealing glances, stealing everything he could from you. hearing your voice was turning out to be the best moments of his days. but you knew deep in your heart that he was taking you for stupid. you were a girl, smaller than him, more soft looking than him, and he thought it was adorable.

but snow, being a snow, had something other than that silly feelings in his body. plans that didn't go as planned when you slapped his face hard, the red print kf your hand on his white skin being visible.

"hey! what are you-?" you interrupted him.

"look, i allowed you to go as far as lie to me about everything, even what others had to say to me. but i will not allow you to say anything about feelings, snow. this isn't funny. this is sick, and twisted. to think you want to have whatever i want so much that you would go as far as say you love me makes me sick." you said, and he blinked his eyes quickly, dumbly looking at you.

"ah, c'mon. don't look at me like that. you really thought i would believe you when you said clemencia hated me? man, she doesn't even know my name!" you kept going, and he gasped a feel times, his hand touching the place you slapped. "stop coming after me."

and you were gone, just like that. everything snow had planned for you both had gone down the drain while you walked away from him.

and after that, he tried to talk to you. he truly did. but you were always so far away from him, and when you caught a glimpse of him walking your way, you would always exit whatever place you were entering.

"man, what you did to the plinth girl? she's running from you like the devil runs from a cross." festus said, watching you exit the library the moment he stood up from the desk they were in.

"i don't know," he said, but he knew what he did to you. he knew he was wrong. and god, the ache he felt on his chest when he saw you laughing at a joke some body made to you was unberable.

that's when he noticed it. that's when he noticed he liked you, more than he planned to. you were supposed to be his accessory, his pretty ornament on the shelf, used when needed to. but now? ah, you had him at your bare feet and you didn't even knew, and if you did, you didn't care.

it was his fault, of course. he didn’t need to tell you that clemencia hated your guts, or that festus was betting that he could fuck you till the end of the year when you said he was pretty, or anything before and after that.

and thinking of that, he had a white bouquet of roses on his hand, provided by his grandma'am when he said he needed to apologize to the prettiest girl he had ever seen. mentally rehearsing his apology and what he would say, he didn’t even notice when he was already at your door, nervously knocking.

you were rich. why was it you the one who answered the door? god, if you were his wife in a near future, you wouldn't even need to move your hands to eat a grape and-

slam!

you closed the door right when you saw the white bouquet on his hand and the ashamed face he had on.

"y/n!" he called you, knocking on the door and pressing the bell of your house multiple times. it was so loud, so irritating, that you opened the door again.

"god, what the hell do you want?!" you asked, angrily frowning at him.

"you," he said. "please, i'm sorry. i-i didn't took you for stupid- you're actually the smartest girl i've seen in the academy, and the prettiest too, and i'm so sorry for being a douchebag to you but i wasn't planning on-" he stopped talking, gulping down.

"planning on what? being a jerk? a liar? a manipulator? a-"

"on falling in love." he said.

"there he goes again." you said, rolling your eyes.

"y/n, i'm serious!"

"prove me." you said, crossing your arms. and he fell on his knees at your feet, placing the roses delicately on your ground. "i'm sorry. i think love is a weakness, i am not used to feeling it- nor any kind of affection towards others but- i can't stand the sight of you, the thought of you being with anyone that isn't me, please-"

ah, how cute. anyone who saw coriolanus at your feet right now would be surprised, his grandma'am would go nuts, saying that snow's are supposed to be on top and not on the bottom of some district girl's feet. but he didn’t mind. he needed to do it. if being on his knees was the only way to get back at you, fuck it. he would be.

"get up." you said, looking away. he obeyed you promptly, eyes looking at you with hope. "that's your last chance, coriolanus." he nodded, almost falling on his knees to kiss your feet.

well, within the span time of seven months, you both were dating. but it didn't change much, coriolanus was always, and i mean always ready to get on his knees for you. he was a sucker for you, even if he was all high and mighty with others, with you, he was a melted snowflake. and he was fine with it.

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #young president snow #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #x reader #plinth reader

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evansbby · 9 months

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another sugar daddy Ari 🫣🥵✨✨

18+ minors dni, daddy kink, age gap, smut

Ari wasn’t a conventional sugar daddy by any means. Well, what was a conventional sugar daddy, anyways? You wouldn’t know, because this was the first time you’d ever been in an arrangement like this. You didn’t know what you expected when you signed the contract. But it’s not like you were complaining…

You weren’t complaining when he made you sit on his lap while he kissed you everywhere. Slowly, sensually, petting you like you were his little toy, while he asked you questions about your life.

“Are you enjoying college?” While he sucked on your neck.

“Tell me about your parents, how are they doing?” While he peppered kisses along your jaw.

“What extra-curriculars are you taking this semester?” As he kissed your cheek and cooed at you.

You’d tell him, being as animated as possible because he seemed to like how chatty you were. And he’d play with your hair and caress you everywhere and put his hands up your skirt or play with your bra strap. It was like you were a delectable meal that he was playing with, and he enjoyed teasing himself almost as much as he enjoyed teasing you.

“Baby, you didn’t spend any of your allowance this week.” Ari inquires one day, frowning as he enters your apartment. Well, the luxury penthouse apartment he was paying for, but he liked to call it yours and you liked having a place of your own so you never corrected him. Not that he’d appreciate you correcting him on anything anyways. Men and their egos…

You shrug, sitting up on the couch where you’d been waiting for him. He’d texted you earlier informing you that he’d cleared his schedule to meet you for lunch. And of course, you assumed lunch was code for sex, which was why you were clad in only a pretty pink lingerie set with silky ribbons and bows, along with a pair of pink high heels which Ari already couldn’t take his eyes off of.

“Sorry, daddy, I just didn’t feel like shopping.”

You cross and uncross your legs, looking up at him and biting your lip. How can you tell your sugar daddy that there’s only so many new dress, shoes or purses you can purchase in a week?

Ari huffs, “I’m gonna have to start punishing you if you don’t spend your weekly allowance, sweetheart.”

But he’s already unbuckling his belt, which makes lick your lips excitably. You’d only been in this arrangement with him for a month and a half, but he’d already got you addicted to his dick. And his mouth. His tongue. His hands…

Ari was so different from the college boys you were used to. Not only was he older, mature, experienced in how to please women, but he was also just… so rugged. And tough. Rough around the edges, so to speak. With his mane of long hair, his bristly beard and wild eyes, he was incredibly virile, handsome, and quite frankly, every girl’s wet dream.

In his 40s, he was now the big CEO hotshot of some huge company. But he’d worked for the government when he was younger, going out on international missions and doing all that dangerous, top secret stuff. But that was all he ever told you about that, and yet you could see it on his face, everything he’d been through and the things he’d seen.

He was hot-headed, impulsive and he took what he wanted when he wanted it. You weren’t complaining, because it made for some fantastic, mind-blowing sex.

Like when he’d taken you out to dinner but midway through the meal he’d decided he’d rather devour you instead, and so he’d pulled you into his lap right there and fucked you gently while he fed you pieces of steak. Luckily, the two of you were in a corner booth. Unluckily, most of the wait-staff had seen, but Ari left them a hefty tip to make sure they never mentioned it again.

Or the time he’d come to pick you up from campus, only to see you talking to one of the boys from your history class. That was the day you’d found out how jealous Ari Levinson was capable of being. He’d slung you over his lap and spanked your ass raw for the better part of the journey home. His limo driver had drawn the partition, and you’d cried until your daddy pulled you upright, kissed your face and told you it way okay.

Or, the time you’d forgot to call him daddy during sex once, which was very much against the rules. Ari wanted you to call him daddy and nothing else when inside the bedroom. Which was why he’d tied you up and aggressively licked your cunt till your legs were shaking and you were on the brink of passing out, and the only word you were able to utter was “daddy.”

Back in the present, Ari allows his pants to drop to the floor along with his boxers, and he gives you a meaningful look.

“Daddy’s had a long day and wants you to suck his dick, sweetheart.”

You sink down to your knees, trying to be sexy about it and you know he appreciates that. You love how he can’t take his eyes off your body, how the lingerie hugs your curves and pushes your breasts up. How tantalising your cleavage looks, especially with you on your knees in front of him. You know Ari loves your body, and loves buying you pretty, revealing things so he can show you off to all his friends and colleagues.

You grab hold of his big dick, throat already hurting at the thought of having that inside your mouth. You loved his dick because it was pretty and brought you so much pleasure, but it was also so insanely big, and Ari loved to make you choke on it. Which happened every time you gave him a blowjob because you still weren’t used to his size, and he preferred you taking all of it in till you couldn’t breathe. You knew he loved it when you couldn’t breathe, when his enormous dick was suffocating you…

“And then after you do that, you’re going to sit on my lap and scroll through my phone till you’ve found some nice things to spend your allowance on. Got that, gorgeous?”

You nod submissively, and Ari smirks. He’s still got his belt in his hand and he loops it around your neck, tightening it till it’s incredibly snug. And just being there, by his feet with a makeshift leash around your neck gets you wetter than it should.

“Such a good little girl,” Ari grunts, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you take his cock into your mouth. Giving Ari a blowjob is always a messy affair, and soon enough, he’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at top speed, muttering profanities while he orders you to keep your eyes on his.

He rubs his dick all over your face, smearing your cheeks and nose with his precum and your own spit. He slaps you across the face with his cock, chuckling breathlessly when you pout because he knows how wet it gets you. And he grabs your hair, pushing you down till your deep-throating him, your nose pressed against his pelvis till you can’t breathe and you begin to flail your limbs.

But his belt around your neck keeps you in place, as does his constant praises “What a good little girl,” “daddy loves how well you take my dick,” “you’re so good for me, baby. So sexy and cute when you’ve got my dick down your throat.”

He cums on your face and doesn’t let you clean it off. He tells you that you look beautiful like this, and then, true to his word, sits you down on his lap and hands you his phone. You scroll through one expensive brand website after another, all while he plays with your lingerie, petting and kissing you how he loves to, and telling you how sexy you are with his cum on your face.

“Sweetheart, if it was up to me, I’d have you in nothing except covered in diamonds, and my cum on your face.”

He immediately orders you an expensive pair of diamond earrings from Cartier (as if you haven’t already got two whole jewellery boxes full of diamonds and pearls and sapphire and what not — all from Ari of course). And then he insists that the earrings were his gift to you, and that you still need to spend your allowance.

After a lot of pouting and grumbling, and some reprimanding smacks to your bottom later, you’ve let him buy you two Chanel handbags, a dress from Versace’s newest Resort collection (not even in stores yet, but Ari had his connections), as well as five new pairs of shoes (all high heels, of course).

“Now was that so hard, baby?”

“I guess not. But I’m gonna run out of space soon, with all the things you keep buying me.”

Ari scoffs, “I have another apartment in the upper east side. You can use it as your shoe closet.”

“You’re really into the heels, aren’t you, daddy?” You tease, twirling your bare legs in the air, your heels catching the light and you feel Ari getting hard again. He grabs your ankle suddenly, pressing kisses up your calf while you gasp and squirm in his lap. His bonded digs at your ass and his hands fondle you everywhere, tugging at your lingerie before he abruptly stops himself.

“Baby, go wait for me inside the bedroom. Everything off except the shoes. And lie on the bed for me with your legs spread out.”

You raise an eyebrow, “That’s awfully specific, daddy—OW!”

He smacks your ass four times in quick succession.

“Go. Now. I’ve got the rest of the day off and daddy plans to fuck your little pussy till I’ve had my fill. Which won’t be any time soon, so take a couple of bottles of water with you too.”

***

JSJDSJSKSKSK THE END IDK I AM IN SYCH A SUGAR DADDY ARI MOOD BYE.

#sugar daddy Ari #Ari levinson #ari levison x reader #Steve rogers #Chris evans #chris evans fanfiction

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rinhaler · 6 months

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assuming ur reqs are still open, can we please get younger stepbro!megumi watching you get off through a peephole in the wall? and like you know he's watching so you call him a little perv and he gets harder 👀

i'm sorry if it's too specific sdjsdjsjjls ofc u don't have to do this, have a lovely day!!

-a follower who's too shy to come off anon

I hope this is okay for you! I've never really thought about writing a younger step brother thing before since I'm not into younger guys myself but I hope I made it fun for you to read, enjoy my angel!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, masturbation (m+f), voyeurism, vibrator use, stepcest ofc.

words: 1.1k

Going from being an only child to having a little brother was always going to be a big adjustment. It’s not like you’re that much older, but moving into a new home to accommodate a four person and two dog household was a big change. You had your own room on the ground floor of your old home. Your mother didn’t stop you from coming and going as you pleased.

But now, you have a room directly next door to Megumi.

You’re always butting heads and even your stepdad has been giving you trouble since your family merged. You have a curfew for the first time in your life. You aren’t allowed boys over and you haven’t been able to party in months. You’re frustrated. Constantly pent up from the lack of excitement in your life.

Megumi hasn’t helped the situation in the least. He’s a quiet introvert with a wicked tongue when he starts. You argue a lot, and he always gets you into trouble. You’re the wayward party girl. Whereas he’s the studious quiet guy that couldn’t ever put a foot wrong.

You’re going stir crazy.

And it’s been weeks since you got laid.

You took a risk when you decided to order a new vibrator to alleviate your tension. If you can’t satiate it with sex, a big pink wand will have to do. You didn’t want to get caught by a stupid mistake like your parents or your brother opening the parcel. So you ordered it to a friend’s house. She didn’t judge, but she dropped it off the very next day for you, winking and telling you not to have too much fun.

Fingers aren’t enough, they haven’t been for years.

The only thing that can relieve your growing tension is the buzz of a vibrator. You have small bullets and they do just fine, but if your stepdad is insisting on you having no life and no hook ups, you knew you had to up the ante.

The only other person home right now is Megumi. Your parents are at work and you quite frankly can’t wait to watch some porn and cum all over your toy. You hurry up the stairs and take it out of the packaging. You test to see if it has any charge, it does, and decide to forgo charging. You don’t care about a lengthy edging session. You just want to cum.

And you’ve known about the sick little hole Megumi drilled between your bedrooms for weeks now. He thought you weren’t home when he did it, opting to hide when he started peeping through. It’s behind a Weezer poster adjacent to his bed. You’ve seen the familiar green eye numerous times and opted not to say anything. Not because you want him to leer at you. But because you’re holding it to use as ammunition next time he really pisses you off.

You hear the indiscreet sound of his poster moving after you test the buzz of your vibrator. And you smirk, hearing how he carefully tries to unzip his pants and groans softly the second his hand holds his cock.

It’s an all too familiar sound, now. Him wanking over you at any given chance. It’s weird considering he has zero interest in you as a human being, doing anything he can to hinder your life. But watching you undress slowly everyday multiple times leaves him spent. And the intimate moments after dark that you have to yourself and the quietly playing porn you choose to watch on your phone are the highlights of his day.

He strokes himself slowly as you strip down to nothing, you’re teasing him as you fondle your breasts before getting comfortable on your bed. You settle for some lewd ASMR. A random man with a deep voice telling you what a good girl you are among other things. You do exaggerate a few moans, pretending that you have no idea that your brother is home and playing with himself over you.

It feels incredible.

You knew a wand would be powerful, but you had no idea to this extent.

“O-Oh, fuck, shit—” you gasp, cumming almost instantly as you up the speed to full. You’re shaking and shivering as your orgasm rips through you, and the sheer quickness of it all makes you burst into laughter. You cover your mouth, giggling, in a state of disbelief of how amazing this pink silicone toy is.

Megumi licks his lips, beating himself off quicker after realising you’ve came already. He hadn’t expected you to finish so quickly, but he keeps replaying the sound of your moans in his mind as he tries to chase you in your release. But he slows, again, when he hears you restart the wand. He grunts, too loudly, as he watches your hips roll into the wand, chasing the feeling of that release again.

“Such a little perv, Megumi.” you moan… not stopping the buzzing against your clit as you talk to him. “W-What would dad think? If he knew you were getting hard and cumming over me?”

He bites his lips, unable to believe you knew he was doing this. And even more shocked that you aren’t stopping, letting him watch you. Maybe even getting off on it? If he’s a perv, what does that make you?

But he knows he’s a perv. He’s had a thing for you since the minute he set eyes on you. Unable to believe how brazen you were with bringing boys home and making out with them without a care in front of your parents. Toji hated it, and so did Megumi. But he couldn’t deny it turned him on. And seeing how riled up you were getting after Toji’s boy ban was when he knew he had to take the plunge and make a little peephole for himself.

Spying on you every chance he got whenever you felt particularly needy or just wanted to change your outfit. He’s had so many jerk-off sessions to you thinking you were clueless.

But you’ve known… the whole time. It’s too much for him. It’s going to bring him to his fucking end.

“You’re such a slut…” he pants, his teeth piercing the skin on his lip enough to draw blood.

“I-I’d rather be a- a slut. Meg-umi. Than a gross little perv like you. Watchin’ me cum everyday… watchin’ me change… such a sicko. Hnng—!” you tense up, trying to hold back your orgasm while taunting your brother.

He cums, spurting white globs all over his fist and up the wall. You hear him hissing and grunting as he finishes, you even hear the sticky fisting sound over the buzz of your vibrator. He begins to pant, deep and heavy as a bead of sweat runs down his forehead.

“I hate you.” he mutters, putting his poster back down and moving away to clean himself up.

“Awe, come back Megs!” you giggle. “Don’t you wanna watch me cum?”

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pandoraslxna · 1 year

Text

Lost and found — Chapter 4

adult Neteyam x female human scientist

Words: 6.2k

Summary: Neteyam hates humans. One day, he finds you all alone and lost in the forest, but quickly decides against killing you. What might be the odd reason for that?

Warnings: explicit smut, neteyam‘s pov, queue play (hehe), Neteyam whimpers, praise kink, heavy size kink, alien biology, slight language barrier, p in v, belly bulge, creampie, hair-pulling, fluff <3

Notes: check my masterlist for all chapters

To say that his parents weren’t happy about the human that Neteyam bought home was an understatement.

Especially his mother was outright furious by the sight of the little demon, her smaller frame hiding behind her oldest son, seeking protection from her glaring gaze. His father, on the other hand, was very familiar with the story of a human and a Na’vi choosing each other as mates. Of course he wasn't thrilled when he found out that his son had simply chosen to make this decision for the little human, claiming her as his mate when she biologically wasn’t even able to do the same. Technically, he could’ve at least asked her out first, he said. But what was done now couldn’t be reversed. She might’ve not willingly accepted to become his mate at first, but Neteyam had chosen her and fulfilled his claim. (Multiple times by now, but obviously he didn’t tell his parents that.)

What mattered was, that they were mated now. And she willingly agreed to stay.

She got familiar with his clan, with high camp and his siblings pretty quickly. And even though she was hesitant at first, the little human even allowed him to take her on a ride on his ikran at some point, helping her explore places of the forest she had never seen before. It made his chest swell with pride, watching her eyes widen in awe at the sight of all the different flora and fauna he introduced her to.

Neteyam learned quickly, that she was a curious thing by nature. A little shy at first, but once she got comfortable, he jokingly debated putting her on a leash so she wouldn’t just wander off and get lost or hurt whenever he turned his back on her.

At least teaching his human mate the language of his people was easier than Neteyam originally thought. Which was a relief for the both of them, considering they would have to understand each other without Jake, Lo‘ak or any of the humans of high camp around to translate for them.

The forest was quiet today, save for the sound of a few Syaksyuk swinging from tree to tree, ruffling through the leaves where some rays of the sun shined through, warming Neteyams skin where they touched him. It wasn’t the same place they had met each other just a while ago, but similar enough that it bought back pleasant memories. The faint sound of an ikrans call made him aware that it was still there, circling above the trees, patiently waiting for his rider to return. But that wouldn’t be anytime soon.

"Zekwa", his human mate says, rolling her tongue in an attempt to pronounce the foreign word correctly. Finger. But Neteyam shakes his head with a sigh, "No, it’s Zekwä. Try it again, but slower."

"Zek…wä", she tries again and this time he nods, encouraging her to keep trying, "Zekwä, like this?"

One of the reasons she was so quick to understand and eager to learn, was probably the method of reward he had chosen to apply whenever she did something right.

"Good girl", Neteyam smiled, placing a soft kiss to one of her tender fingers. Then he moved higher, to the palm of her hand, kissing her there. "And this?"

"Tsyokx", she responds with a smile that rises her cheeks. Hand.

"What about this?" Neteyam leaned over to be closer to her. Holding her smaller face in his rather big palms, he gently tilted her head to gain better access to the space right below her jawline. Then, his tongue darts out to lick a small stripe along her pulse point and he feels her shiver underneath his touch. "That’s… Nikre", she says. Throat. And Neteyam doesn’t miss the way her voice slightly trembled. He takes a second or two before he moves, just staying close to her and inhaling her scent.

"Hmh", he hums, placing a kiss to her skin, where it was wet from his salvia now, "You’re getting better at this, little one."

While he rests his forehead against her throat, one of his hands comes to lay on her thigh, gently squeezing the soft flesh there. His hand was big enough to almost fully close around her small leg, her size difference making him utterly aware of her fragility whenever he touched her. Handling her with care had become his number one priority over the past few weeks and he had to learn how to gauge his own strength, in order not to break her.

"What’s this called?", he whispers, feeling her swallow around the lump in her throat.

"T-Taeng", she exhales softly to which Neteyam straightens his back and sits up to properly look at her. Of course, her cheeks had turned red. "It’s Ta'leng", he corrects her with a chuckle. Thigh. "Stay focused."

As he moves to sit back on his heels, some of his braids sway over his shoulder, the colorful beads in his hairs clicking together and he catches the way her eyes follow their movements.

Neteyam knew she liked them. He had braided a few strands of her hair himself and they were now decorated with a purplish-blue feather behind her ear and a few beads that were very similar to the ones in his hair. He had made them just for her.

Neteyam had caught her trying to recreate some of the hairstyles she had seen on his people, just a few days ago, but they never turned out how she preferred. He had to admit, she was an adorable little thing when she got frustrated, but he gladly offered to help her.

He just loved how much she cherished her braided hair and all the neat little accessories decorating them ever since.

Now she was staring at his hair again, but something told him that this time, it wasn’t his hairstyle or the pretty beads in his braids that caught her attention. Neteyam could only assume what it was.

"Neteyam?", she calls for him. The way his name rolls off of her tongue, like warm honey, makes goosebumps appear on his skin. It was the first word she had learned to pronounce in Na’vi and he wished it would’ve taken her a while longer to learn, just so he could hear her say it over and over again. He just knew he would never get tired of her saying his name.

Her short fingers point to the thick braid laying over his shoulder, the one that was longer than the rest of his hair. "What’s the Na’vi word for…this?" Neteyams gaze followed the direct of her finger, to see what she was pointing at. Reaching for his painstakingly braided tswin, he held it up for her to see.

"This? It’s my kuru", he explains with a soft smile, "or tswin."

"Oh I think I know that one", the human exclaims happily, "it’s called neural queue in my language!" Instinctively, her hands reach out to touch it and even though he’s a little taken aback by her curiosity, Neteyam let’s her. A pleasant chill runs down his back as she gently feels the braid up and down in awe, seemingly impressed with how tidily his hair was braided. Her hands glide over his hair, starting from the base of his skull, until she reaches the end of it. Turning it from side to side in her hand, the soft hair at the end of his braid part and reveal something that must’ve seem very alien to her, going by the way her eyes widened slightly.

She was looking at the little, pink tendrils, how they moved completely unwillingly and her small mouth opens like she intended to say something, but no words seem to come out. He knew that this wasn’t her first time seeing them. She had seen them before, just briefly when he had bonded with his ikran, but now he realized she must’ve never seen them up close before. And knowing that the humans anatomy did not possess anything similar to his, he doesn’t feel offended by her curiosity. She would have to learn more about his kind one way or another, he thought. And at least he could be the one to teach her.

Inhaling a shaky breathe to calm himself, he continues to let her explore. But curious as his little human mate was, exploring with her eyes only, seemingly wasn’t enough after just a short while. With wide eyes he watches as her other hand moves, inching closer to touch the tendrils and every hair on his body rises by the sheer sight of it.

Neteyam swallows thickly and watching her curiosity get the better of her, his first impulse is to take his tswin from her hand. Despite all of what they had shared together so far, this was still such an intimate part of his body and it felt… strange, to let her touch and explore him there.

But again, he lets her. She was his mate after all. And if she would’ve been even partly Na’vi, they would’ve already made tsaheylu with one another. The thought alone had his tail standing upright, curling and lashing in the air restlessly. He couldn’t deny that his body was yearning for this type of intimacy, the only one he couldn’t share with her.

Neteyam suddenly sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, when she was just mere inches from touching him there. Immediately, her eyes shot up to look at him. It was just for a brief second, yet her eye contact was so intense, as if she was wordlessly asking for permission to continue. And even though it was almost unbearable for him, Neteyam once again decides to let it happen.

Her hand comes closer and closer, slow and steady, and it made his heart race and a warm feeling arose in his stomach. Still, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, until the pinkish tendrils wrapped themselves around one of her delicate fingers.

Neteyams whole body tensed at this and he squeezed his eyes shut as a shiver ran through him, his breathing increasing at the unfamiliar feeling.

"Th-This is tsaheylu", Neteyam murmured while he was trying his best to stay composed, "It’s the… the sacred bond between all of Eywa’s children. It allows us to mentally connect and share information. When you are bonded, you gain access to each other's physical senses. Pain, happiness, fear… ple-pleasure."

Her curious gaze flicked from his tswin, to his eyes and then back, as he spoke. Meanwhile her fingers continued to play with the extensions of his nervous system. Neteyam had to lean back on his palms to put some distance between her and himself, taking deep breathes to sort his own thoughts. She probably had no idea what she was even doing to him, he thought, trying his absolute most to keep all these noises down that arose from deep in his chest.

"But we", he exhales shakily, "we don’t bond like this. We bond by connecting them."

"Oh", she exclaimed quietly at that and he catches the way she looks down on her hands. Her eyebrows rise as if she had a sudden thought, before she asks him worriedly, "am I hurting you?"

Neteyam hesitates, but then shakes his head. What he was feeling in this moment was hard to describe. No, it didn’t hurt. But it also couldn’t be compared to the actual feeling of bonding with one another, it was more like a tingling sensation in his brain. Like getting tickled with a feather, with muscles twitching on their own, having no control over the way his body reacts to the sensation. It felt foreign, maybe a little weird too, but at the same time, it felt strangely pleasant. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

The idea of touching his own tswin like this had somehow never occurred him. It wasn’t like someone had specifically told him not to, it just wasn’t something that ever crossed his mind.

Watching and feeling the way the thin tendrils of his kuru moved into the embrace of her soft hands felt like someone was pouring warm syrup straight into his brain. Neteyam could feel how his pupils dilated further with every passing second, until they were almost fully black. The whole time, their focus was entirely on his mate. A low, breathy sound, like a whimper, escaped him as the unfamiliar feeling continued to spread through his whole body, the more she played with him like this.

Once again, he was dumbfounded at the things that this human was capable of. Not only was she able to sent him into his rut, when her biology was so different from his, but she also made him feel things he had never felt before. Things that he was sure no other Na‘vi could make him feel. How did she even know what to do and how to touch him to get him to react like this?

Neteyams breathing wasn’t just heavy, he was almost panting now. Letting his head fall back, he squeezed his eyes shut again to try and calm himself, but the heat that’s been spreading in his core slowly becomes hotter and hotter, until it’s almost unbearable for him to ignore. He doesn’t even realize how little whimpers and moans begin to fall from his parted lips freely, too busy to keep his focus on the strange feeling that could be mistaken as pleasure, entirely created by the humans hands playing with the tendrils of his kuru.

But maybe that’s what it was, what he was feeling. Pleasure.

Neteyam shifts a little as he feels something stir, right there under his loincloth, and he knows if he would look down, he would find himself hard and aching. Surely, this wasn’t supposed to make him feel like that, he thought. But it did.

Swallowing hard, he forces himself to open his eyes again, only to be greeted by a sight that just adds further to the tightness in his loincloth.

Her plump lips are parted, coated in a thin layer of salvia as if she had wet them with her tongue barely a minute ago. Her cheeks are flushed in deep red, eyes half lidded and heavy with lust and for a split second, Neteyams eyebrows furrow in confusion.

Was she… enjoying this?

It was like a switch had been flipped when her eyes suddenly met his. To his surprise, she unexpectedly lets go of his tswin in order to jump up to her feet. While he continued to watch her with great curiosity, she moved to stand directly over him. Even when he was sitting, leaning back on his palms like that, her navel only reached up to his chin and he was tempted to lean in and kiss her right there.

But the question, what she was even intending to do, already laid on his tongue. He quickly swallowed it down though, when she began to undress right in front of his eyes. The human fiddled with her clothes, discarding them quickly, which made her need become obvious to his eyes. She was, in fact, enjoying this.

During all the time they had spend together so far, he had never seen his little human so desperate before. And if so, it was usually him who would make the first move. It was him who would bend her in any position he favored, him who had to make her admit how needy she was, him who had to coax these pretty sounds out of her, because she was too shy and too flustered to act on her own. But not today, though, that was was for sure. Today she was acting different.

Her feather like weight settled on top of him, snapping him out of his thoughts when she straddled his waist. But Neteyam stays unmoving. He lets her act on her own this time, wanting to see what his sweet mate was carving for so much. Almost comically impatiently, her hands reached between their bodies. She scoots back just a little to make room to pull his loincloth to the side, just enough to let his cock spring free. It slaps against her lower stomach with a soft thud and Neteyams lips curve into a smug grin at the sound of her little gasp of surprise to find him this hard already.

His grin drops pretty quickly, as soon as she grabs him, her small hand not even close to closing around his shaft completely and a guttural groan leaves his lips. When her feather light touch becomes more firm and she begins to stroke him, Neteyam arches into her hand like she’s the only source of relief in the world. The contact of her warm skin on his own makes him twitch in her hand. There was no way he would be able to keep his cool when his mate was touching him like this, hovering above him, flushed and beautiful and so needy, she was ready to take what she wanted all on her own. Eywa, he prayed, give him the strength to not take a fucking bite out of her.

But Neteyam was getting impatient. Whatever she had done earlier to rile him up this much, in combination with the way she was sitting on him now– it bought him on the verge of his self restrain. His chest was heaving, sharp canines barred as he restrains every single urge to switch her position, pin her down and claim her like he’s done so many times by now. But no matter how impatient he was, he had to prepare her for his size first.

Mating with her, with a human, meant he had to take his time and get her ready to take him, fully take him, without inflicting any pain on her.

Usually, she knew that too. This time, however, it seemed like she was willing to take the pain that the stretch of his length and girth bought her, if it meant she could fill her entire being with him and not have to wait another second.

Not giving him much time to realize her intentions, the small human lifts her hips and lines his hard cock up with her entrance. Both of her hands find leverage on his shoulders, squeezing the taut flesh there, as she got into position. With a sharp hiss coming from him, his little mate begins to lower herself, letting him stretch her tight hole inch by inch.

"Oh great mother", Neteyam groans through gritted teeth, feeling her warmth embrace his cock as she sinks down on him, "Easy, go slow."

But his words fall on deaf ears, because the next thing he feels, is the suffocating tightness as she forces more of him inside her too quick. She whimpers and clenches around him, yet the little human tries everything in her might to get those last few inches of him inside.

Neteyams hands immediately grab her by her hips, his four fingers digging into the pillow-like flesh as he holds her firm so she’s unable to move any further.

"S-Stop that", he hisses and throws a pointed look at her, almost glaring as he clenches and unclenches his jaw, "You will hurt yourself, if you don’t slow down."

He would lie if he said he wasn’t as desperate as she was. In fact, Neteyam was fighting against his own body to rut up to take and take— take what’s his. Yet he wanted to let her do this, let her take on her own terms. But the reasonable and still rational thinking part of his brain told him that, even if she so desperately wanted to get stuffed like this, he had to be the one to remind her that she’s not supposed to hurt herself in the process.

A small pout formed on her lips at his words, but her face quickly turned into that of determination. He couldn’t deny the fact that he was amused by her strange antics today. But then he felt her shift, lifting herself off of him until only the very tip of his cock was still resting inside her. Neteyam, naïve as he was, allowed her this, loosening the grip around her hips.

It’s him who then throws his head back with a loud groan, every muscles of his body tensing, because suddenly, and too fast for him to react in time, she slams herself down, her tight hole swallowing all of his length to the base.

"Fu-ck", Neteyam chokes out, once she sits on him properly, her full body weight and gravity pulling her down further than he thought was even possible. This position allowed him a new depth that neither of them had ever experienced before. He feels the head of his cock nestled against her cervix, pressed right against the opening to her womb and it makes him physically shudder.

"Are you trying to kill me, little one?", he grunts and when his eyes finally regain their focus, he sees the way his little mate pants heavily, sweat beading on the frame of her mask and her pupils blown, probably just as much as his own.

For a split second he’s worried for her well-being, that she could’ve hurt herself with that stupid stunt she just pulled. If that was actually the case, she must’ve been pretty good at hiding it, because her facial expression was nothing that came close to the ones you’d see if someone was in pain. It was the complete opposite of that.

The little human shakes her head as if she had lost her voice, breath still coming out shallowly. His eyes are glued to her, waiting for her to do whatever she wanted with his body.

It belonged to her by now.

"I– I want…", she whimpers and her face flushes an even deeper shade of red, her breathing almost fogging the inside of her mask. The soft, velvety walls of her cunt squeeze around him at her words and Neteyams eyes almost cross at that.

"What do you want, hm?", he coos, "Just take it. Take what you want, it’s all yours."

It takes her foggy brain a moment to translate his words, but he’s patient with her, like he always is. Instead of a verbal response, she decides to let her body do all the talking for her. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, moving her hips hard and fast— lifting herself up and down on Neteyams cock and spilling moans that he feels deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before she is slamming her whole body back down, turning herself into a moaning, whimpering mess.

Below her, Neteyam groans and his toes curl at the feeling of her tight heat swallowing him over and over again. He had leaned himself back on his palms to enjoy the full view of her, his mouth slightly agape as he watched her breasts bounce with every thrust. She was providing the perfect view of herself, moving how she pleased without a care for anything else.

Neteyam wanted to jerk up into her so badly. He wanted to slam into her, relishing in the way that his hip bones would leave marks from how hard he would thrust into his mate.

Once again, Neteyam realized just how tiny she was compared to him. His eyes had wandered down on her soft curves, stopping at the bulge on her lower belly that was more visible in certain positions. One of his hands comes to caress the swell, where his cock was nestled deep inside her. It was always a miracle that she was even physically able to take all of him. "Feel me inside you, sweet little human? I‘m so deep, all the way up here. See?", he grunts with a breathy chuckle, "You’re taking me so well, always doing so good for me."

Her cheeks burned with the praise, even though she only understood half of the words that were spoken to her yet. Still, it didn’t stop her from responding, "m‘feeling s-so good, haa- fuck, fuck, yes! Oh my– god, feels so good!"

With the way she plunged his cock into her pussy over and over again, deeper with every thrust, he was certain that it must feel like he was already in her stomach. She was moaning like that was the case, at least. The sounds she knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans, grunts and sometimes even noises that sounded like whimpers, whenever his dick knocked on her cervix like an iron hammer.

"Neteyam, ahh– f-fuck, Neteyam", she moans and the sound of his name makes his cock throb inside her, "I‘m close, oh god I‘m gonna come!"

He knows these words by now, even if they’re spoken in the sky peoples tongue. It meant that she was nearing her sweet release.

Nodding, Neteyam then grabs her hips and when her breath hitches, she stays down against his pelvis, rotating her hips in circles and switching the direction randomly. Neteyam helps her grind herself against him, feeling her cunt pulse around him, her clit dragging against his skin before she slumped forward against his chest and her whole body went rigid. She gasped and moaned into his ear, her arms encircling his neck and holding him tight, while her legs twitched wildly on his sides.

"There you go, such a good girl", he coos softly, whispering the words of affirmation in her ear as she releases more slickness around his cock, "That’s it, come for me, let it all out. You’ve done so good, my pretty little mate."

She’s shuddering in his arms, broken sobs and whimpers leaving her parted lips and echoing under her exopack mask. Neteyam allows her a moment to breathe and collect herself, come down from the high of her orgasm in the warm embrace of his arms.

She still clings to him, even as he plants his feet firm on the ground. He keeps her flush with his chest, even as he spreads the soft cheeks of her ass with his big hands and then slowly thrusts up into her. She mewls and twitches, her body still sensitive from her previous orgasm, but Neteyam declares her as ready and capable enough to continue. It‘ll be quick anyways, with how hard and aching his cock was by now, throbbing inside her, so painfully desperate to finally reach his own release.

"Hmm, still so wet", Neteyam hums as he feels rich droplets of her arousal roll down his shaft and down on his balls, "You have another one in you, don’t you? Will you come for me again?"

The little human only sighs when his cock drives into her again, seemingly enjoying the feeling of being so full of him. Putting just a little more force behind his next thrust, she moans louder and Neteyam chuckles, "I want to come with you, so you have to hold it until I‘m ready, okay? Can you do that?"

Her first orgasm had already drained her to the point that she felt completely limp in his arms, her body covered in sweat that was sticking to him, mixing with his own, fusing them together as one. Her limbs still twitched with the aftershocks of her climax as he thrusted up and into her again, slowly picking up his pace to find a steady rhythm. Neteyam squeezed a handful of her ass cheeks, the supple flesh bouncing with the force of his pounding and she moaned so sweetly into his ear, completely ignoring his request.

"Hey, are you even listening?", he chuckled softly, sounding like the complete opposite of what he was doing to her.

"Hmm?", she hummed but it sounded more like a whine, muffled against the crook of his neck. Of course she didn’t listen. Well, even if she was, Neteyam realized he was probably asking too much of her again. It was already hard to communicate with her when she had the full brain capacity and focus to do so, but trying to get her to listen, translate the words and actually respond to him when she was this fucked out— impossible.

So he repeats the word that he can translate in her language. "Together", he whispers lowly in her ear and Neteyam could practically feel how the little hairs on the base of her nape raised at this. Her sweet pussy clenched and squeezed his cock so tightly, it caused him to groan from deep in his chest. Oh she definitely understood him this time.

His hips then snapped against hers and she tightened the hold of her arms around his neck for purchase.

She moans and whimpers foreign words in her alien tongue, like it’s been punched out of her by the sheer force of his thrusts. It's all garbled and sewn together, like vines weaving through the forest. Neteyam drinks it up, drinks up the begging and the pleases, the way she looks so blissfully fucked out and helpless in his arms while he forces her up and down on his cock.

Her inner walls cling tightly to his shaft, squeezing him, flexing around his warm, intruding length, coaxing him deep inside with each thrust.

Behind his back, he feels her arms shift around as if she was reaching for something and soon enough, he figures out what that something is. There’s a tug, just a gentle pull on the base of his nape, but it’s enough to make his hips stutter for a second.

"Wh–haa fuck, what are you doing?", he chuckles, albeit a little breathlessly, while the sound of skin slapping against skin still echoes through the forest. There’s no response, obviously, but Neteyam could already assume what she’s plotting.

Again, there’s a tug. This time, she had pulled just a little harder on his kuru and he couldn’t help but let a deep, wanton moan slip past his lips. The grip he had on her tightened to the point he was sure his fingers would leave bruises on her perfect skin.

So this is what it was about.

"You want to come, huh?", Neteyam asked her, even though he knew his question would remain unanswered, "Are you trying to get me to finish because you can’t– ca-haa— oh eywa, fuck!"

He’s interrupted by a feeling similar to electricity shooting through his body, tingling every nerve in his system and causing him to choke on his words.

Behind his back, he feels her hands move and yet again, a lightning of pleasure seers through his whole body. Neteyam just knew that if he would’ve turned his head to look back, he would’ve found her playing with the tendrils of his kuru just like she did earlier.

"S‘too much", he then hears the human whimper, "need to come so bad, please Neteyam I‘m- I can’t hold it!"

She’s a little more than a trembling, incoherent mess by now, the walls of your pussy bearing down around him as he plunges his cock into her. The squelching sounds of her arousal mixed with his pre-cum filled his ears, growing louder by the second. It was only overturned my sound of blood rushing to his head as she was pulling and fumbling with his kuru, her fingers dancing over the sensitive tendrils once again.

"Hmh that- that’s it", he groans, mouths it against her throat, "keep going. Yeah, just like that. Fuck, I’m close too."

The humans back arches as she suddenly begins to mover her hips again. She tries, tries so hard to fuck herself on his cock even though she’s completely exhausted and her legs must feel like jelly by now, yet it’s enough to drive him over the edge.

"teyaaam", she whimpers his name, or half of his name, and it’s the cutest yet most erotic sound his ears have ever heard before.

Her hands leave his kuru in order to grab onto whatever she could reach to steady herself, her dull nails scraping over his back, while he tightens his own hold on her. Neteyams arms encircle her middle completely now, pulling her close as he bucks his hips up and into her, until he’s not even thrusting anymore, it’s just grinding against each other.

Neteyam feels her insides pulsate, as if she was milking him for all his worth. Her legs tremble and every limb on her body tenses as she comes, clinging to him like her life depended on it. But he does too, squeezing her smaller frame and holding her as close as physically possible as he emptied his pleasure into her, filling her with his cum until he felt it leak out of her, leaving a sticky mess between their bodies.

For a moment, Neteyam feels nothing but the warmth of her body, the heat emerging from the little humans soft skin morphing into his own. He feels her chest expand, her lungs filling themselves with air, chest heaving from exhaustion. He also feels how she snuggles against him, a content hum leaving her lips that make his tail curl around her ankle as if trying to hold her even closer. Feeling his cock soften inside her makes her shudder and Neteyam can’t help but chuckle at this.

"Good lesson today", he snickers in the sky people’s language. Hearing his Na‘vi accent makes her giggle softly, which causes heat to rush to his cheeks.

Neteyam enjoys the comfortable silence that then falls over them, so he rests his chin on top of her head and closes his eyes for a while, just listening to the sound of her breathing and the familiar noises of the forest. But then the little human abruptly sits up, straightening her back to look at her mate. Immediately, Neteyams eyes are wide open again, the little hair on his tail raising in alert as she wordlessly scanned his face.

"It’s my turn to teach you a word", she tells him then and despite the fact that she was still entirely bare and sitting on top of him, her voice sounded small and shy. Neteyam felt a little startled at first, but his ears twitched inquisitively, ultimately giving away his inner thoughts.

"Hmh, is that so?", he hums, finally having found his voice again, "Okay then, teach me."

Her cheeks turn into a pretty shade of pink as he nods, giving her the affirmation to do as she pleases. Whatever it was that she wanted to teach him, he would listen.

To his horror, the little human then inhales a deep, sharp breath, her chest visibly expanding as air fills her lungs and then she hooks a finger under her exopack mask— but before he could even lift as much as a finger and bring her to an halt, she had already lifted the mask above her face, with a cute little grin plastered on her face as she held her breath.

Neteyam could only watch in complete shock, utterly dumbfounded. But then she surges forward, suddenly confident, and her lips find his. They move against each other, her arms wrapped around his neck, chests pressed together as tightly as possible and Neteyam never wants to leave, never wants this to end. He moves his hand from her hip, reaches up to hold her face as she kisses him and he kisses her. She’s so warm. So soft. So sweet.

She called the rumbly sound he made when he was so content a purr, and he loved doing it for her. Loved the smile it brought to her lovely lips, how it sometimes made her giggle when their chests were pressed together almost like this.

The kiss was gentle but searing, slow but all-consuming at the same time. It was good. Addicting even.

Unfortunately, she ends it sooner than he’d like, but Neteyam knew all too well that she had to breathe again at some point. Still, he feels a little disappointed when her kiss-swollen lips leave his own.

By the time she leant back enough to look him in the eyes, her mask pulled back over her flushed face, they were both panting helplessly. But now they stare at each other, a sweet smile across her face and he breathes deeply, soaks up the deep emotion dwelling in his chest. He can’t name it, doesn’t know what she feels, but he wants to feel it again.

"Thats called a kiss in my language", she smiles sheepishly, the sight alone enough to make Neteyam feel warm all over.

"Kiss", he repeats the foreign word, testing the right pronunciation on his tongue. "I’d like to have another", he tells her grinning and she giggles. It’s the most beautiful sound hes ever heard and Neteyam thinks that maybe… maybe humans aren’t so bad at all. Not this one at least. Definitely not his human.

"Okay, since you’re so eager to learn today…", he brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze lingering on her soft looking lips for a few more seconds, before he meets her curious eyes, "I have something else for you."

"What is it?"

Neteyam looks at her– he really looks at her now, taking in all of her features that seemed so alien to him when they first met, but now they were so familiar, so loved and adored by him. And then, without missing a beat, he tells her,:

"Oel ngati kamaeia."

"And what does that mean?", she tilts her head, nuzzling it further into the palm that’s been holding her face.

"It means I see you, my little mate."

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wilteddreamsofbaldursgate · 2 months

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Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold.

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much.

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no…

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands.

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough!

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways.

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten.

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters.

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns.

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time.

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal.

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable.

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort.

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav.

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all.

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late.

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier.

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?”

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress.

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls.

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day.

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it.

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her.

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed.

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore.

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe.

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever.

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet.

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family.

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him.

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it.

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head.

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

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thepixelelf · 9 months

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ah! love - 2

genres: married life au, family au, fluff, comedy [best friends to lovers?] relationship: husbands 95 line x reader (feat. baby doremi line) words: 3.4k warnings and notes: mentions of alcohol; coarse language. y'all wanted more and so did I. any stuff in this au will likely not be chronological. I literally had to think about how to tell a kid they're adopted for this it sucked. (I still love it)

ah! love masterlist

Seungkwan learns a new word.

Seungkwan, like all other five (and a half!) year-olds, knows everything.

He knows how to cook eggs and how many sides an octagon has. He knows to always ask papa Jeonghan for extra sweets because he's the only one who ever says yes after you've said no. (His other parents also say yes, sometimes, if you've left the room, but Jeonghan is always the fastest to cave.) He knows Chan is a baby who doesn't know anything.

And he knows he and Vernon are The Twins.

Because when it's time for dinner, and Seungkwan is playing with Vernon in their room, papa Joshua always asks you, "Can you grab the twins?"

When papa Seungcheol comes home from (well, hm, maybe Seungkwan doesn't know everything) wherever he goes when they go to kindergarten, he kisses you on the cheek in the entryway, kicks off his shoes, then crouches down, arms open and awaiting for Seungkwan and Vernon to barrel into them, and growls happily, "There are my twins!"

And when he found you in the kitchen one night, while you were sitting on the counter (which is not allowed!!), with papa Jeonghan standing between your legs for reasons unclear to Seungkwan, you both looked surprised. Seungkwan concluded this was because papa Jeonghan had just whispered, "The twins are asleep," and Seungkwan was, in fact, not.

Which is why he scoffs at the older girl who came up to him and Vernon on the playground. Vernon is busy building his sand tunnels, but the girl has Seungkwan's full attention.

"You are not twins," she says.

"Yes we are."

She is unrelenting. "No. My big brothers are twins, and they look exactly the same."

Seungkwan looks over at Vernon, who's now mixing wet sand and dry sand into a big ol' pile of sand soup. They don't look alike at all, he knows. His hair is black, and Vernon's is brown. His cheeks are rounder — sometimes you pretend to bite into them before planting a kiss — while Vernon's are a bit pinker.

"We are twins," Seungkwan says again, because maybe not all twins are like her big brothers. Maybe some twins are like him and Vernon.

Besides, his papas say they're twins. Why wouldn't they be?

The girl crosses her arms. "My big brothers have the same birthday."

Seungkwan is about to bite back, say something like maybe not all twins have the same birthday, meanie! but Vernon waves his hand in the air, yelling out, "Ms Han!"

Their teacher comes over, bending and putting her hands on her knees as she asks Vernon what's going on.

He points at the girl. "She's saying we're not twins because we don't have the same birthday."

"Oh." Ms Han scratches the back of her neck, "Well, sweetie, the thing is…"

⭒

Jeonghan's shaky eyes glance at the rear-view mirror again, half checking for cars and half checking up on the babies in the back seat.

Seungkwan has been quiet the entire eight minutes they've been driving, which might be normal if he was any kindergartner other than Seungkwan. Vernon can get talkative too, but right now he's completely silent, immersed in squishing and un-squishing his favourite toy — a plushie shaped like a baked bean (Jeonghan has no idea where you found that thing or why Vernon is obsessed with it) — between his tiny fingers.

Of course, Jeonghan had to be the one on pick-up duty the day one of their teachers finally gave them the whole, you may have to explain adoption talk.

"So," he says, awkward, trying to smile. "How was school?"

Vernon squeezes his toy again. "It was," he says, and nothing else.

God, Jeonghan needs backup.

As soon as Jeonghan pulls up to the house, unbuckles the twins from their booster seats, and ushers them inside, Vernon pulls off his shoes and dashes into the house — to you, Jeonghan is sure. Vernon doesn't play favourites except that he does.

Seungkwan, though, looks up at Jeonghan and tugs his pant leg, saying, "Papa Shua wants to talk to you in his room."

Which isn't true, of course; Seungkwan hasn't been all of thirty seconds in the house, and Joshua isn't even home, out on an errand. But Jeonghan can take a social cue, even if it is from a five year old. As he climbs the stairs, he pulls out his phone and messages the guys to try to come home as soon as they can.

⭒

You're reading to Chan on the living room couch, him tucked under your left arm and a quiet Vernon who's wormed his way under your right arm clutching your shirt like you're both afloat in open water, when Seungkwan walks up, climbs onto your lap, (shoving the book out of the way in the process,) and presses his face into your stomach. He mumbles something you can't quite hear.

You chuckle, bringing a hand up to run over his soft hair. "What's that, baby?"

Slowly, he lifts his head, his eyelids low with the gaze of a war-hardened veteran. "They're lying," he says, no nonsense in sight.

Your hand pauses. "Huh?"

"We gotta leave. They lied. Could be lying about anything."

You try to smile past the confusion. "What do you mean?"

Seungkwan, sweet, adorable, chubby-cheeked Seungkwan whom you love with all your heart, fists the material of your top in both his hands, growling in a way you somehow know is protective.

"We gotta get outta here."

⭒-⭒-⭒

"Please get me out of here."

Joshua snorted at your plea, his voice soft and teasing through the phone. “What happened to ‘living out your twenties’?”

You let your eyes roam over your surroundings — a house party (a frat one in particular, you were pretty sure) with flashing coloured lights, late 2000’s top 40 songs, and what must've been over a hundred drunken 18-22 year olds. A haze hung in the air that smelled like the unholy combination of cotton candy, root beer, green apple, and skunk. A younger friend you’d made at your internship had invited you, but they were nowhere to be seen.

“I take it back,” you said, walking through the house in search of your friend. “I’m old now. I’m a hermit.”

“You’re not old.”

You scoffed. “You’re only saying that because you don’t wanna admit you’re old.”

“No, I’m serious,” Joshua argued, though you could tell he was smiling as he spoke. “We’re only like a quarter of the way through our lives— there’s still so much ahead.”

“Okay Socrates, whatever.” You pulled your phone away from your ear when you felt it vibrate. Your friend answered your last message, telling you they were heading home to take care of another friend they trust, and that they’d text you when they got there. “I’m just trying to get out of here so I can go home, steep a nice cup of decaf tea, and, I dunno, take up knitting or something. Granny style.”

Some shuffling happened on the other end of the line, and you thought you heard Joshua say something, but not to you.

“Anyway,” you sighed, winding your way through the crowd to finally leave that steam room of a house party. “I just called to complain. I’m gonna call a taxi.”

“Don’t bother. I’m on my way.”

You paused, your hand on a stair railing. “What?”

“I’m coming to pick you up,” Joshua spoke with all the nonchalance of someone ordering coffee.

Glancing at your phone screen, you countered with, “It’s almost midnight.”

“Yeah, well, I’m already driving, so it’d actually be more inconsiderate of you to tell me to turn around if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Joshua…”

"Shush," he tutted. "Just stay on the line with me until I get there. And drink some water if you can." There was a pause as you heard noises through the phone. Joshua added, "But only if you find a sealed water bottle, or pour the water yourself."

You finally reached the front entrance, content to wait outdoors for your unexpected ride since the weather wasn't too bad. "Do I sound drunk to you?"

"You didn't drink?"

"I mean, I had one," you said with a shrug he couldn't even see.

"Well maybe that explains why you're not having a good time."

"You're such a bad influence, Shua."

"Saying that to your designated driver is so rude, just so you know."

"I didn't ask you to DD!"

Joshua sighed playfully. "Yeah, yeah. As if you don't know we'd do anything for you."

Mouth open, you fumbled with what words to say in your head.

Did you know that? Maybe you did.

You knew that if you and Joshua had switched places, you would've done exactly the same thing he was doing now.

And why did he say "we"?

Before you could vocalize anything, Joshua said, "I see you. Turn around."

And there it was— Joshua's tiny, bright blue hatchback, affectionately dubbed the Blueberry by you and your three boys.

Speaking of whom…

"Jeonghan?" You blinked at the man in the passenger seat when he rolled down the window.

"Hey, devil," he let the nickname fall from his lips with a smirk. It was a new one, this moniker for you, his payback for you jokingly calling him an angel. He jerked his head in a gesture towards the back seat. "We're busting you out of this joint."

You huffed out a laugh at his joke, yanking open the back door of the Blueberry. Immediately, a pair of large, grabby hands pulled you inside. "Whoa— Seungcheol, you too?"

Too tired apparently to answer with words, Seungcheol only nodded, reaching over your shoulder to take your seatbelt, extend it over you, and buckle it in. He settled back down in the middle seat rather than the more spacious one on the other side of the car. Closing his eyes and crossing his arms, he relaxed his entire body and let his head fall onto your shoulder, all without a word.

"Were you asleep?" you asked him quietly as Joshua pulled away from the curb.

Seungcheol just breathed in deeply and leaned more of his weight on you.

"Guys…" You turned your attention to the two boys in front. "You didn't have to drag him along too. Did you wake him up for this?"

Joshua scoffed. "As if. You think I'd poke a sleeping bear on purpose?"

Twisting in his seat to face you, Jeonghan smiled in that sweet yet devious way you like so much. "He was worried about you all night, devil. Paced around the apartment for two hours, going on and on about 'kids these days' before he tired himself out and zonked on the couch. We tried to leave quietly, but he woke up and insisted on coming once he found out it was you on the phone."

"Oh," you said at the same time you thought you heard Seungcheol mumble, "Shut up."

You softly patted Seungcheol's arm, your fingers brushing against his with the way his hands were wrapped around his own biceps. "You know I can take care of myself, right?"

Seungcheol didn't answer, as you should've expected. Eyes still closed, he just flexed his fingers to hook one around your pinky and keep your hand where it was.

Meeting your eyes in the rear-view mirror, Joshua said, "We'd better get him home before he actually falls asleep back there. No way am I carrying him up the stairs."

"What do ya say, devil?" Jeonghan prompted. "Sleepover at ours?"

You smiled. "How could I ever say no to you guys?"

⭒-⭒-⭒

"Seungkwan," you say softly, a little bit confused and a little bit amused. "Who's lying?"

He sits up on your lap and cups both his hands around his mouth, only to not-really-whisper, "Parents."

"Me?" You point at yourself.

"Nooooooo!" Seungkwan whines with a pout, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Our other parents!"

You think about how Jeonghan was the one who went to pick up the boys from kindergarten... and how he's nowhere in sight now. "Papa Jeonghan is lying?"

Seungkwan nods emphatically, and to your surprise, Vernon nods too at your side. Chan sits in rapt attention of his older brother, who is probably blowing his four year old mind.

"And papa Shua," Seungkwan adds. "And papa Seungcheol."

You furrow your brows and tilt your head. "What are they lying about?"

"They said we are twins," Seungkwan finally reveals, and it starts to dawn on you. His words become frantic, voice wavering. "But Ms Han said we can't be twins because we have different birthdays, so we can't be twins bio-- bio--" He hiccups. "--logically."

"That's a big word," you say, because it's a struggle to respond with anything else right away. What-- Ms Han is teaching biology now?

Vernon gets out from under your arm and sits on his knees beside you on the couch. He holds up his hand for a high five. "Biologically."

Still a bit shocked, you high five him, then Seungkwan when he also puts his hand up. To be fair, that's what you do when they learn new, long words. The tears brimming in Seungkwan's eyes shouldn't deter learning encouragement, right?

"That's why we gotta go." Seungkwan sniffles. "Maybe they lie to you also. Maybe they are not biologically your husbands!"

God-- the parenting books don't teach shit like this.

"Seungkwan..." you start, though you don't know how to form the next sentence.

Vernon takes your hand and wraps all his tiny fingers around it. "Let's run away," he says with a determined nod, like a secret lover in a fairy tale.

Chan's eyes widen, and he throws himself around your middle. "I gonna save you!"

"Boys-- Wait--"

The front door bursts open to reveal a dishevelled Seungcheol. His hair is wild and fluffy, his tie loosened, and his suit jacket is in his hand rather than worn. He's barely thrown his shoes off by the time he catches sight of Seungkwan's teary eyes and your slightly-panicked expression. Immediately, he jogs towards the couch in, to you, obvious concern. "What's going on--"

But before he can get too close, Seungkwan lets out a terrified, demon-like shriek. He picks up the closest item -- the storybook you'd been reading to Chan -- and chucks it as hard as he can towards your husband.

It only hits the floor at Seungcheol's feet, but it causes him to freeze. He gawks at the book, then raises his head to look at you and the way your boys have all wrapped their little arms as tight as they can around whatever parts of you they can reach, their heads tucked in, hiding.

You can see it in his eyes-- him registering that they're scared of him.

"I--" His expression tightens, lips pressing together to stop from quivering.

From seemingly nowhere, Jeonghan appears, putting a comforting hand on Seungcheol's arm and pulling him out of the room. He whispers, "Let's give them a minute."

Both your husbands make eye contact with you as you tentatively hug your sons, and you nod, silently letting them know that you'll be okay.

("What the hell was that?" Seungcheol whispers harshly as soon as he and Jeonghan make it upstairs. "You said to come home ASAP-- I thought someone got hurt!"

Jeonghan crosses his arms. "Why wouldn't I just say someone was hurt?"

"You have got to be clearer in your texts.")

"Seungkwan." You readjust your body, trying not to jostle your sons too much. "Seungkwan, baby, can you look at me please?"

He lifts his head to meet your eyes.

"Did Ms Han tell you what 'biologically' means?"

Seungkwan's face scrunches up as he tries to find an answer to your question, and in that moment, Vernon sits up. "Real," he says.

"Now, that's not quite right," you tell them, and at that, all three of your boys look at you for an explanation. "A 'biological parent' is one of two people who made a baby, and that is their 'biological child."

The boys stay quiet, taking in the information. Thank goodness-- you don't want to have to skirt around the topic of "making" children.

"Biological twins," you continue, "are when two babies are made together, at the same time. Which is why they have the same birthday."

"We are not twins," Vernon reaffirms.

"That's right."

Seungkwan frowns. "Why do you call us 'the twins'?"

"It's just a nickname, sweetie. You and Vernon were born in the same year, and you do everything together, so for me and your other parents, you are kind of like twins." You smile. "Do you want us to stop calling you that? It's okay if you don't like it."

Putting a hand on his chin, Seungkwan ponders seriously for more than a few seconds.

"You can always change your mind at any time, okay?" you say, and he nods, continuing to think.

Chan tugs at your sleeve, and you turn to him. "Are you bio...ly marry?"

You chuckle. "No. Marriage is a little different-- your papas and I decided we wanted to be a family, so we chose each other, and to stay together. And now..." You boop Chan's nose, then Seungkwan's then Vernon's. "...you boys are part of our family, too."

Vernon perks up. "Did you choose us too?"

"Yup." You reach up a hand to ruffle through his brown hair. "And you know what? That makes you special. I may not be your biological parent, but I chose you three to be my sons, and I love you so much. That makes me your parent, don't you think?"

All three boys nod, Vernon still beaming, and Chan's hands clutching your sleeve. Seungkwan relaxes in your lap.

You hear the sound of the front door opening again, and, much slower than the last person, Joshua enters the house with two bags full of groceries. Chan pushes himself off you and slides off the couch to run towards Joshua, bouncing in front of him with his arms in the air. "Uppies."

Without a second beat, Joshua puts down the grocery bags on the bench by the door and scoops Chan into his arms. He walks up to the couch. "I just got Jeonghan's text. What's going on?"

You just smile and shake your head, taking one of Seungkwan's and Vernon's hands in each of yours. "And you know your papas love you more than anything too, right?"

While the boys nod, Joshua just blinks, totally lost. Chan hugs him tighter.

"I bet Seungcheol is a little bit sad about how you guys acted when he got home--"

Seungkwan pouts and drops his head. "I'm sorry..."

You squeeze his hand. "You don't have to be sorry, baby." You tighten your hand around Vernon's as well. "Either of you. You didn't understand something and it made you scared. That's okay. But now Seungcheol might not understand something, so we should help him, right?"

"How?" Vernon asks.

You tap your chin and look upwards, pretending to think. "Hmmm... How about we go upstairs and give him a biiiiiig hug!"

It turns out to be a great idea, because you find Seungcheol in his room, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking desolate. Seungkwan and Vernon climb him like monkeys, though, and they wrap themselves around him, press kisses to his face, and as soon as you mouth to Seungcheol that you'll explain later, all is right in the world again.

There's no brighter a smile on Cheol's face than when he's with his sons.

You stand, watching, with your arms crossed, satisfied with the scene until Jeonghan comes up and stands next to you, mimicking your stance. You swat at his arm, to which he reacts with such a pained facial expression, you'd think you just cut it off.

"I cannot believe you abandoned me to deal with that on my own!"

"Hey! I called for backup, didn't I?"

You roll your eyes. "A load of good that did."

"Aw, c'mon, devil..." Jeonghan slides closer to you, then wraps his arms around you and leans in to press his lips to your cheek. "Can I kiss it better?"

⭒

Joshua watches you and the twins run into Seungcheol's room with no further explanation, and he turns his attention to the youngest in his arms. "You wouldn't happen to know what's going on, would you?"

Chan shakes his head. "I'm four."

"Right."

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kissme-suguru · 2 months

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You and Their Kids

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺ JJK Gojo, Nanami, Geto x Fem Reader

Warnings: Non Curse Au, mention of menstrual cycle,

A/N: I'm such a sucker for dilfs. This is like a drabble mixed with headcannons based on what I think the main aspect of their parenting style is. part 2 maybe?

Gojo Satoru ♡︎

Becoming the guardian of Megumi and Tsumiki at the age of eighteen was no easy feat, still being a kid himself he grew with them and sometimes acted more like an older brother than a father but that didn't stop his (sometimes overbearing) affection.

When he first introduced you to Megumi you coulda swore the kid was raising Satoru and not the other way around. His level of maturity was off the charts which Satoru tried to take credit for (lies). Megumi liked having you around for the main reason of his guardian having someone else to bother, constantly stating how he likes you more than him. The boys bickered pretty often and it always made you laugh.

Satoru loved to watch you and Megumi interact, seeing a nurturing side to you warmed his heart to the core. Megumi began seeing you as a guardian as well when he witnessed you taking care of Tsumiki in the hospital, which was a part of his daily routine he didn't really like to talk about. And for that they both appreciated you immensely.

"Megs!" You called out to the navy haired boy as he walked with his peers, turning around at the nickname. He stopped in place waiting for you catch up. "I brought you lunch, I didn't want you to be starving after training."

His hand accepted the bento box with a nod of acknowledgement.

Suddenly the sound of Satoru's singsong voice caught your attention. He quickly jogged up to you two, wasting no time wrapping his arm around your shoulder and placing a kiss on your head. "You didn't tell me you were coming today, babe."

"I was just bringing Megs some food real quick." He look offended.

"And what about me??" You rolled your eyes with a slight smile at his pouty words.

"How could I forget?" Reaching into your bag you pulled out another bento and handed it to Satoru, making is eyes light up dramatically.

"Ah! You're the best. Just in time for training, thanks babe." He pressed another kiss to the top of your head before letting you go and walking ahead to talk to Yuji and Nobara.

Megumi lingered back for a moment, wrapping his arms around you in a soft in embrace. Your hand stroked his hair softly with a smile on your lips. Although he didn't convey his emotions often it was obvious this little gesture meant a lot.

"Thank you."

"Of course."

Geto Suguru ♡︎

Similar to Satoru; Suguru adopted his girls young, bringing Mimiko and Nanako into his care not long after graduating. He had such a soft spot for the girls and never failed to cater to their every need.

As the girls grew into their teen years Suguru had even more trouble saying no to them, practically bending to their every request and spoiling. He allows them to drag him into various malls and restaurants and of course he carries their many bags with a smile on his face.

The girls took to you very quickly when you entered the picture, happy see their dad smile more than usual and excited to have a woman's presence around the house.. You really played the mother role well, giving them tips on makeup and taking time to do their hair. You were the one they came to when they got their periods and it was times like those were Suguru was glad you were around to educate them on the things he couldn't. Suguru took pride in your mother like instincts, often just watching the three of you quietly with a smile on his face.

His ability to say no diminished even further when you two started dating, the girls often let you in on their schemes knowing he couldn't turn down all three of his girls.

"Can we go get ice cream? Pretty pleeeeasee?" Nanako intertwined her fingers as she pouted.

"Pretty pleeeeasee?" Mimiko followed suit, matching her twins pouting.

"Yeah Sugu, Pretty please?" A teasing smile lingered on your lips as you followed, making Suguru itch the back of his neck with a groan.

"What am I gonna do with you girls?"

"Take us to get ice cream?"

"I vote for that."

"Yeah me too."

He shook his head with a smile. "Alright, alright. Put the puppy dog eyes away."

Kento Nanami ♡︎

Nanami wasn't exactly Yuji's dad but he was the closest thing the boy had to a father figure, allowing him into his home under his protection. Despite his sometimes stoic personality Nanami cared for the boy deeply and wanted to see him succeed in life. Although it did take a bit of effort for him to bring his walls down and get out of his comfort zone when it came to his interests.

When you and Nanami started dating his softer side to him began to grow, taking more time to spend with the two of you and relish in the presences of his loved ones.

As much as he didn't want to admit it he loved that you and Itadori kept him on his toes and brought new found excitement into his life. The fact that you and the pink haired boy had similar personalities always made him chuckle to himself, the two of you were like peas in a pod and that made it even harder to say no.

"Y/N, tell Nanamin that we have to go see the new Human Earthworm 4!"

"I just don't see the appeal in those types of movies, they're too hard to follow ." Nanami didn't bother looking up from his newspaper while you and Itadori baked cookies.

"It's entertaining, hon."

"But the story doesn't make sense." "How could you not get it?! It's a tragic love story between a girl and a human earth worm, you can't get a better plot!" Itadori's eyes practically sparkled as he talked about the movie, making you chuckle.

You finished putting the cookies on the sheet allowing Itadori to put them in the oven while you walked behind Nanami and wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head on his. "Come on hon, I heard this was the best movie out of the series."

He sighed, setting down the newspaper and rubbing the bridge of his nose. The blonde's eyes glancing back and forth between his lady and Itadori who held a small pout.

"If we must."

"Yay! Thank you!!" The two of you said in unison as Itadori also wrapped his arms around Nanami. The gesture made him crack a small smile and lean into the affection.

"Mhm."

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 5 months

Text

Rejected soulmate au but I made it worse instead of better

Danny, instead of just leaving, instead snaps and commits a series of murders as Phantom, rampaging across the city. His first victims were his parents who he mauled to death, then Vlad, then his so called "friends". Once he came out of the green rage induced fog he realized what he had done and sobbed somewhere in the woods around Amity.

He knew that the GIW would arrive soon, and well, he's already in this deep and he can't just let a government agency that hell bent on genocide and conquering/expirementing on the entities of an entire dimension do as they please so he takes his hanger out on them as he's always wanted.

Hes so glad Jazz is away for collage. She's safe from them. Safe from him.

Its a wonder Clockwork didn't try to talk to him. He probably knew it wouldn't do any good, and Danny is technically of the living and Clockwork isn't allowed to harm the living or control them, only influence them into taking different paths. Hence why he did the time freeze/rewind fiasco when Danny attacked him at the clock tower when he was 14. He wasn't allowed to actually fight him and honestly at that point Clockwork didn't need to. But now Danny had that time medallion in his chest courtesy of his alternate evil future self and Clockwork couldn't do anything.

Danny was 16 and far too powerful for the master of time to take on.

Danny demolishes the GIW like he was playing Doomed on the easiest setting. It was laughable how quickly they went down and Danny found himself enjoying it.

He always had to tamp down that feeling. That vicious glee he got whenever he took vengeance on someone who wronged him. It had always been a thought in the back of his mind that he may have been inherently evil at heart and that he would turn to the dark side eventually.

He wouldn't be like the fusion of himself and Vlad though. That was just a mildless monster destroying everything in its path. What was even the point of that? For all the darkness in his heart, he couldn't see that as anything other that sheer stupidity. He assumed it was Vlads half. The only thing the creep was ever good at was dragging everyone around him down.

Danny packs up and activates the Fenton houses Baba Yaga Protocal, causing his childhood home to grow legs and literally walk away. He eventually managed to find all of Vlads secret labs and treasure stashes, raiding all of them and stripping them of everything they had to offer.

Then he went to find his soulmates dimension in the comfort and convenience of a newer and crazier version of howls moving castle. He had no plans on harming them per say, but he wanted to know why. Why reject a soulmate you hadn't even met before? A person who either platonically or romantically is your perfect match and can understand you better than anyone.

Danny himself suffered immensely throughout his childhood. His parents mental and emotion manipulation and neglect had left Danny longing for thier praise and attention but also left him feeling hollow and confused. Being the children of Evil mad scientists made it difficult to be friends with anyone. Even if the kids weren't weirded out by them, the parents of those kids would tell them that they weren't allowed to play with him or Jazz in fear for thier safety.

Rumors about the Fenton parents experimenting on thier children eventually reached thier ears. That was when he realized that other parents didn't give them twice daily injections of ectoplasm into thier bloodstream.

Im lazy but heres more:

1. Danny as a kid 9-12 realized that Sam and Tucker were crappy friends. Sam often tried to chase away any other girls that tried to talk to Danny for any reason (she was getting better) and often was controlling or patronizing to him while using her parents wealth to get what she wanted. Whether she realized it or not, she was actually a lot like them.

Tucker, Danny decided, secretly hated him and had straight up admitted before that he only became friends with Danny to steal the cool tech from his parents lab, which Danny had allowed and risked getting hurt by his parents to make his friend happy. Tucker was always jealous of Danny, stating that Tuckers own life was plain and boring while Dannys was like the protagonist of an anime. Tucker was quiet about it, but Danny saw how much the other boy enjoyed seeing him fail.

He tried to hang out with his big sister more, cause she could understand and she loved him, right? He was standing outside her door again with his favorite ball (it had the constellation Pegasus on it!) and raised his hand to knock on her door when he heard her groan loudly.

He knew he wasn't supposed to eavesdrop but he put his ear to the door anyway. Curiosity had always been his greatest weakness. On the other side she was talking on the phone. To who he had no idea cause Jazz didn't have friends, but she was complaining about mom and dad and...him. she told her phone friend that she loved him, but only out of obligation. She was his sister and she had to care about him, even if she didn't want to.

Danny didn't understand. She had just said she loved him so why did his heart hurt so much?

He went back to playing with Sam and Tucker. They were what he had, even if he didn't like them, he could lie to himself and tell himself that he did. Just like with mommy and daddy.

If he keeps telling himself that he loves them than he will. If he keeps telling himself that they love him then they will.

Dannys always been good at lying to himself.

Still, the soulmark on his arm remained. It was a vague promise of a light at the end of the tunnel. A dream that someone would show him what real love was like and they would sweep him off his feet and take him far far away from this place.

So why...

2. Phantom doesn't make a name for himself in this new dimension right away. Yeah he had all this treasure he stole from Vlad but treasure isn't money and he had no idea if money from his dimension would even be valid what with all the protections the us had on thier bills to make it difficult for people to make fakes.

Selling gold bars and the like was easier said than done, especially if you actually wanted a fair price for it, and he'd rather have a hoard stashed away for his later plans to more easily take shape.

3. Phantom was an excellent thief, even without his powers, but hes in too early to be arrogant and this world was filled with super-powered villians and heros alike, all trying to make a name for themselves.

He refused to be anyones stepping stool to something greater. Not anymore.

Danny was as cunning as he was skilled. He disguised himself in seedy bars, talking up whatever heist he had made recently, saying whatever thief had pulled that off must have been the greatest, sometimes he ever went dressed as a swooning girl for the extra oomph.

It usually worked and some meat head would take credit for his crimes. Word would sometimes conveniently make its way to the cops and if Danny was really lucky the poor sucker would actually go down for his crimes.

All to muddy the waters. Its harder to connect all these crimes to him when half of them have convictions and the other half have nothing linking them together <3

4. Danny needed minions but he didn't want to tell them anything. He wasn't in the position to start recruiting younger supervillians into his army yet. That was much later in the plan.

No, he needed a mercenary. One who didn't ask questions.

Mr. Deathstroke came with great recommendations and had a great track record for getting whatever contract he had completed and he had a vendetta of some sort against the Teen Titans and Young Justice.

Yeah, he was a bit fruitloopy but he seemed perfect for the job he had in mind.

Danny would keep Deathstroke at a distance of course. He was a mercenary, a hired gun, not his friend. Some one else could easily hire him to get information about Phantom or worse, hire him to attack or capture Phantom.

No the only thing tall, dark and scary was getting from him was the money owed to him in the contract. Money he now had plenty of.

5. Danny never really considered that he would have to compete with other thieves.

He had made sure to steer clear of places like Gotham and Metropolis because of the heros there who always stopped thieves and revealed their identities. Danny didn't need that, no thank you.

But as he was doing one of his heists, the third one this month and the one he planned on sticking the blame onto another poor sap-freaking Catwoman ran into the room with a sphinx carved of some precious stone and Batman not far behind.

Batman locked eyes with him for only a moment, cowl meeting domino for a split second, and Phantom knew he had been found out. This wasn't Gotham. He had no idea how they had gotten here or when but Danny wasn't naive enough to think the worlds greatest detective wouldn't be on his tail after he saw Phantoms arms drapped in the "priceless artifacts" from the India section.

They very much had a price. His buyer had paid a hefty chunk in advance.

Catwoman, who Danny had silently sworn vengeance against, kicked Batman away from her mid brawl and launching him in the direction Phanton was escaping.

Crud. It was time to fight and he was so not happy about it. Danny did manage to get away with the use of his electric powers. Turns out leaving the lower half of your face exposed is a bad idea, especially if your opponent knows Thunder Punch.

He used an EMP pulse as he ran to fry any cameras and Batmans equipment before heading down the hallway and through a few walls. He turned invisible once he was far enough away and flew off into the night with his prize.

This buyer better not backstabbing him. He's in no mood to play nice tonight.

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aphroditelovesu · 7 months

Text

Yan!Apollo w/Reader!Daughter of Yan!Hera Headcanons (Romantic)

❝ ☀️ — lady l: this headcanon is based more on Hera's POV than Apollo's, but I hope you like it anyway. This ask was thought of and I can do a second part if anyone wants! Good reading and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, offenses and hatred, bouts of jealousy, unhealthy relationships, mention of war.

❝🦚pairing: yandere!apollo x reader!daughter of yan!hera.

No one knew how you ended up in Hera's arms, but everyone knew you were hers. Some said that you were found by her when you were a small child, others say that you were taken by her after she cursed your parents after they had offended her in some way and other versions say that you were her and Zeus's daughter. No one knew the exact origin and it didn't really matter, because you were hers and always would be.

Hera is known for being vengeful and possessive, jealous of Zeus's lovers and anyone who crossed her path. And that jealousy passed on to you as you grew into a beautiful young woman. Your mother wouldn't let anyone near you and when you reached marriageable age, Hera became more suffocating than ever.

She would never let her little girl get married or be defiled by any man. Whether mortal or god, no one will lay hands on you. Hera swore to herself that you would never be touched or hurt as long as she existed.

Apollo has always had an interest in you. He always liked you but never had the real chance to get to know you, not with Hera hovering over you all the time. The god didn't know why but he wanted to get to know you better, to get closer. You attracted him, maybe it was because of your immense beauty, he didn't know, but there was something about you that attracted him like a magnet and he needed to know what it was. So he waited for an opportunity to get closer to you.

And this opportunity arrived in the best way possible. You were finally allowed to wander around Olympus for a bit, without having your mother glued to your side. You begged her if you could go out alone for a bit and Hera gave in very reluctantly. As you wandered through some gardens, Apollo was sitting near a statue of Zeus, playing his lyre and singing something in a low voice. You cautiously approached the god and crouched near a hyacinth bush, hiding and watching him in wonder. Apollo knew you were there, but he didn't stop singing and playing, wanting to impress you.

When he stopped singing and playing, Apolo stared blankly at the bush where you were hiding. That was when you knew you had been caught. You stood up awkwardly, smoothing out your rumpled dress and stammering out a weak apology. You knew it was wrong to spy on others, especially a god. To your surprise, Apollo laughed and approached you, telling you that everything was fine and he didn't mind being watched by a beautiful lady like you. You blushed and smiled at his words and that was the beginning of a beautiful romance.

After this meeting in the garden, you and Apollo began to meet more often, all hidden from your mother's jealous eyes. You found yourself more and more attracted to this god and Apollo more and more in love and obsessed with you. You were perfect in his eyes. Benevolent and merciless in just the right amount, a daughter of Hera indeed. You would be a perfect wife and Apollo found himself more and more eager to ask you to marry him, but he was no fool, he knew that Hera would never accept. So he wouldn't ask her permission, but rather his father.

Apollo went to meet Zeus and told him his wishes, that he would like to marry you, leaving his father at an impasse. Zeus would like to allow you to become his son wife, but Hera would never allow it. And she was the goddess of marriage, getting married without her blessing wasn't the right thing to do. But Apollo didn't care and when Zeus reluctantly gave his permission, he knew what he had to do.

One night, Hera was by your side as you tried to fall asleep. Like the caring and patient mother she was to you, she kept you company until you fell asleep. As you fell asleep, Hera left the room and locked the door like she always did. You woke up a few minutes later and opened the window, allowing Apollo to enter. Once in your room, Apollo kissed you and got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. Your heart raced and before you could think, the words ''yes'' left your mouth and you were in Apollo's arms, kissing him passionately. You were so focused on each other that you didn't hear the door open until Hera started screaming.

Hera had known something was wrong for weeks. She suspected but had no proof that you were seeing anyone, until that cursed night. She left your room and waited for a few minutes, wanting to make sure you didn't have a lover, the thought made her sick. When she heard voices coming from inside your room, Hera unlocked the door and quickly walked in and she saw red. All she felt in that moment was hate, pure rage seeing you in the arms of a bastard of a husband. Hera had never been so sorry that she hadn't been able to kill Apollo when he was still in his whore mother's womb. How dare he tarnish you? Her pure princess? She was ready to kill him.

Apollo pushed you behind him just as your mother started screaming. This sight only enraged her further. It wasn't enough that he dishonored you, he still wanted to keep you away from the only person who would always love you. You flinched at your mother's screams and Apollo's eerie calm. When Hera finally stopped screaming, she tried to get closer to you but Apollo wouldn't let her. Just as Hera was about to curse him, Zeus stormed into the room furiously and demanded to know what was happening. Hera couldn't explain how furious she was and Apollo was very calm. Zeus looked at you and when he saw the ring on your finger, he knew what had happened. Curse that Hera had discovered that way.

Zeus tried to calm his wife, but his attempts were frustrated and he had to impose himself so that she and Apollo did not start fighting physically or trigger a war. Apollo just said that you and him would get married and that Hera would have no right to interfere, not when he had the blessing of the King of Olympus. Hera let out a scream of rage and all this fury was diverted towards Zeus, leaving the god in trouble. Hera was screaming at her husband and demanding answers, how did he have the nerve to let his bastard son get his hands on you? Hera doesn't remember feeling as much hatred towards Zeus as she did at that moment. Zeus remained silent, trying to remain calm while being insulted by his wife. When she finally stopped yelling at him, she turned to talk to you and you were no longer there.

Apollo had taken you. Hera fell to her knees and uttered curses. Zeus just watched her with remorse. She got up and sat on your bed and grabbed your pillow, in an act of fury, she tore it and her green eyes were filled with hatred. She would destroy Apollo and anyone who got in her way until you were safe and sound in her arms. She was ready to start a war, use her son, Ares, to destroy the world to bring you back. She swore these words and Zeus, for the first time, was speechless.

#yandere greek gods #yandere greek mythology #yandere apollo #yandere apollo x reader #apollo x reader #yandere hera #platonic yandere hera #yandere headcanons #headcanons #greek gods #yandere platonic hera #greek mythology

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kingtomura · 3 months

Text

Good Girl

Summary: It’s not your fault that your boyfriend was hard for people to warm up to. God, your parents are so lame. But so were you. So you did what anyone else with strict parents would, and you cut him off.

Bad idea.

Word count: 4k

part two is here!

Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, explicit content, kinda quiet sex, cunnilingus, praise, slight humiliation, unprotected sex, strict parents, toxic relationship with parents, AU - no quirks, no use of y/n, gets a little mushy at the end im sorry

You would rather be anywhere else but here. You would pay to be anywhere else but right here, right now being scolded like some teenager who had been caught sneaking out after curfew. But you were here and you weren’t going anywhere any time soon.

“He’s just not good for you,” your father’s voice stressed. It dragged on, pulling you from your drifting thoughts. “You have so much ahead of you and we even agreed to this gap year so that you could figure out what you wanted to do, not so you could run around with some delinquent boy with no future–”

“He‘s not a delinquent,” You cut off, “you’re judging him without even giving him a chance.”

Your father sighs, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, but knowing you inherited his stubbornness has never detoured him from taking your objections head on. He’s been on this earth longer than you, butting heads with others longer than you have. “Well, whatever he is, he’s not allowed to see you again. That’s final.” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. False air of nonchalance sending fury through your veins.

There would be no more arguing and you knew it. You desperately look to your mother, who is in her usual stance of resignation and uselessness when it comes to his word. If she saw things your way, she would never say. And even if she agreed with you, there would be no change. It has always been your father’s way or no way.

“I’m an adult, you can't tell me who I can and can’t see.” you try once more, not ready to end things here. It’s suffocating.

He scoffs, bringing a hand up to count his fingers, “You live under our roof, you eat our food, you drive our car, you give me attitude when I agree to give you time to figure out your life when you decided to leave university after two semesters,” his voice is rising and you begin to feel your eyes burn with the threat of tears, your chest tightening as its harder to catch a breath. You can’t cry here, it would only make things worse. “I don’t think it matters how old you are. I am done with this conversation. End things with him now or you won't have a pot to piss in by the end of the day.”

This cannot be happening. You're still sat on the plush sofa of the living room as your father stalks off with your mother in tow. The latter only glancing back with an empty look of pity as you stare at where your father had just been. Words burned into your mind while hot tears finally break and run down your cheeks. This is really happening.

And Tomura was going to be upset.

In a perfect world you could meet up with him tonight, talk it over, or even run away together and leave all this behind, but you know better. You know the two of you haven’t dated long enough to warrant running away together, but it still crosses your mind. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before and it's painful to think you never will again. Tomura just made you feel so.. Alive. There was so much to him and his witty dry humor that keeps pulling you in.

He’s cynical, he’s moody and sometimes he’s mean but god he could be so soft. Touch you in ways that felt like he reached your soul. Quiet nights where you would stay at his house and watch him play video games would turn into late night sessions of making love until the twilight of dawn peeked through the dark curtains of his room. There was no way you could let him go. But you had to. You had to. Your father had given you no other choice. So you take the coward’s way out.

You text him.

You send him a short text that would send you to the bathroom dry heaving, but you didn’t know what else to do. What more could you say other than your father had snapped at you and you both could no longer be together. It would hurt so much more facing him head on. You knew that if you had to speak to him face to face that you would crack, probably throw out your silly idea of running away together and then face the awkward rejection. This was all you could manage. You felt awful for it, finally forcing yourself off of the floor and dragging your feet to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

It had been hours and there was no response from Tomura. You couldn't blame him. What could anyone say to a break up text? You hollowly hoped he would fight for you. Even a little. But the flat Read 14:57 showed you otherwise. This had now become a heartbreak you werent quite expecting. You couldn’t help but second guess every interaction you had with him before. If maybe you read into things a little too deeply. If maybe, some smaller, quieter part of you dreaded your father was right.

There was no use of dwelling on that now. No point in running through what you would never know. So, you sighed, and finished up in the bathroom. Slipping on your silk sleeping gown that stopped above your knees and adjusted the small straps on your shoulder. You had cried for hours after your argument – if you could even call it that– with your father was over and your face ached. The bags under your eyes showing the worse for wear state you had found yourself in. it would be okay, you told yourself. You just have to sleep it off.

And that was your plan and you slid into your welcoming bed, soft comforter embracing you and your worn feelings. You feel more tears begin to sting behind your eyelids before there's a sudden tap at your window.

A trick of the wind, you decide and return to your somber thoughts.

You would have to move on eventually, but tonight? He was the only thing on your mind. His eyes, his hair, the way he would feign annoyance when you were overly touchy, craving closer contact. He always indulged you. Always gave you more, you knew he liked it as much as you did. You were lovesick.

Tap.

There was that noise again. Louder than before as if someone had thrown a rock right at your window. The room was still and quiet so you knew it hadn’t been your imagination.

Jumping to your feet and shuffling towards the window in question you brushed your curtains to the side to see the possible culprit. And when you do, your heart drops and instant regret fills you. Stomach aching as you take in the sight before you.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki and he is pissed.

Tomura, your Tomura leering up at you with another rock resting in his hand, bigger and ready to be tossed at your window if the last attempt didn’t work.

You look around, knowing no one is in your bedroom but yourself and the moonlight, then go to open your window, ducking your head out to get a better look at him. There he was, black hoodie oversized and so soft, red eyes burning in anger but you aren't scared. You’re relieved, it's him. He's here to see you, mouth turned down in a scowl and fists clenched in fury but he was here.

You couldn’t stop your hushed whisper, “what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk.” Was his only reply before he dropped the rock and walked towards your window. It wasn’t terribly high up, but higher than he could reach without a bit of help from you.

Now that he was closer you could see the anger in his posture much more clearly. All tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. It was enough to make your stomach turn. You couldn't help but worry your bottom lip as he pulled out his phone and took a step closer.

“Really? Over a fucking text message?” He hissed, rasp in his voice, uncaring of the time of night or who could hear.

“Tomura, shh, please–” you tried, hands coming up to placate him, if only a little. Your father would have your head if he heard another man in his home, let alone Tomura Shigaraki.

He huffed a sarcastic laugh, disbelief taking over his features, but he obliged, “I don’t care what your father told you. He can’t control who you talk to.”

You shake your head, the all too familiar sting of tears in your eyes threatening to fall, “I know. I told him that, but he threatened to kick me out, to cut me off. I’m sorry Tomura, but I can't.”

“He can't do that.”

You nod, knowing all too well that your father would go through with his threat. “He can. Technically. I'm an adult, so it’s his choice.” The tears fall now, seeing the rage dissipate from Tomura, slight drop of his shoulders showing disbelief and disappointment. It's too much. This is why you didn’t want to see him, couldn’t face him. “I'm so sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold in the sobs threatening to wrack your body and possibly wake your parents up. This could not have ended worse. “I don't want it to be this way.”

“Wow, I didn't know you were such a good girl.”

Your breath hitches, caught off guard, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “I didn't know you did everything daddy says. What a good girl you are.” The tone is one you’re familiar with. Condescending. Challenging. He’s testing you.

Your cheeks flushed. What could you say? That you’re not a good girl, actually. Then what would that make you? A bad girl? You would walk right into his trap. He’s watching, waiting for a response. Something to make you slip up.

You don't have the chance to respond before he’s taking a step forward, lifting your chin with a finger so that you could look him in the eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the room those crimson eyes looked into your own. Like he was delving deeper, looking for the response that you can't seem to give him. Nothing else matters in this moment. It’s just him and you and the pale moonlight dancing between you. The air is tense and unmoving, like the smallest noise, the faintest blow of wind would ruin this moment.

You couldn’t take it, couldn’t wait another minute before your body moved, leaning forwards onto the tips of your toes to give you more leverage as your lips pressed to his. His lips were still cold and dry from the cool air outside but that didn’t matter. Nothing matters more than knowing you needed more of him and you needed it now. Tomura’s hand came to rest at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer and the kiss deeper. Taking all of you in as his other hand gripped your waist.

Your hands wasted no time burying into his hoodie – so soft and worn– the faint smell of citrus and cedar being a comfort as the intoxicating kiss deepened. Tomura wasted no time, slick tongue entering your mouth, hungry, like it was the last time you would have him this way. It was too much. It was not enough. You broke the kiss, a string of saliva following the short distance you put in between. Air seemed sparse, like you couldn't get enough and Tomura spoke before you could.

“Get on the bed.”

And you did, newfound vigor in your step as you eagerly did as what you were told. Energy ebbing through your veins as excitement overtook your previous anxiety. Tomura was a mere step behind, discarding his hoodie without care and joining you on the bed, caging you beneath him as he dove back in for another kiss, wet and warm, before trailing lower. Open mouthed kisses to your jaw, then neck, his hands, rough and warm gripping your thighs, taking in all he can. After leaving a particularly hard bite on your neck, Tomura lifted your gown up, smooth silk gliding with ease above your ass and resting below your breast. It was only natural for your legs to spread for him, cool air on your bare cunt making you shiver.

“Oh?” An amused huff from the man above you makes your cheeks heat further than before. He’s seen you like this many times before, but he’s always had a way of making you feel shy. “No panties, huh?”

You push past your embarrassment. “You know i dont wear them to b– ah!” you're cut off by the feeling of his finger sliding between your folds, slick making it glide, and rubbing over your clit. The surprise of the motion makes you press your thighs closer together. Tomura grins above you, before bringing his wet finger to his mouth, a mocking shh following the motion, tongue flicking out and licking the digit as his other hand pushed your legs apart again.

He bends down, bulge in his sweatpants pressing against your bare cunt. He’s so hard and that thought only makes you wetter. Tomura’s nose brushes yours, your eyelids fluttering shut as he dives to kiss you again. All open mouthed and wet. You could taste yourself on his tongue as well as feel the pressure of his clothed erection grind against you, rubbing against your bundle of nerves. You are sure your slick is dampening his sweatpants but Tomura doesn’t care. He’s grinding you into the mattress and you’re so close to begging him to get on with it you want to scream. But almost like he’s read your mind, he pulls away.

The kisses he places along your body set your nerves on fire, anticipation eating away at your patience as he takes his time. Once he’s reached his destination, right between your thighs, he places one wet kiss onto the plush of your inner right thigh. Another teasing move. Another way to make you squirm in excitement. He looks up at you, ruby eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the room.

“Be quiet for me, yeah?”

Tomura huffs a laugh at your eager nod, grin growing wider. So quick to please. Dedicated. “Good girl.”

The praise makes you falter for a second, embarrassment threatening to make its way to the surface once more. There was no time for it now, Tomura enjoyed catching you off guard. Loved surprises. He wastes no more time, tongue licking a wet strip between your lips. The action causing you to moan louder than you intended. Your hand rushes to cover your mouth. If you were to be caught in this predicament by either of your parents it would be horrendous for the both of you.

This doesn’t stop Tomura, though. If anything you were starting to think it encouraged him, because his relentless pace on your cunt was driving you wild. His long stripes simmered into just the tip of his tongue flicking your clit and sending jolts of pleasure roaring through you. You were already close, pleasure and pressure building and building until you were so close to tipping over–

Knock knock.

“Hey sweetie. I know it's late, I just wanted to talk for a second.”

It was your mom. Holy shit it was your mom and there's a boy in your bed with his head buried between your legs and holy shit. If she opened the door, if she barged into your room in the familiar way she always had a bad habit of doing, you would be done for. With wide eyes and accelerated breaths, you clamped down harder over your mouth with both hands. Even Tomura stopped in his tracks, gaze lazily focused on the door with curiosity bleeding into his indifference.

Your mother must have taken the silence as a sign of slumber, yet she continued. Voice muffled by the door between you both.

“Your father... was harsh today. And I’m sorry for that.” She pauses, long enough for you to believe she would be giving up and going back to her bedroom. You aren't so lucky, surely at this point you were very unlucky and you dreaded whatever else she had to say. “I just want you to know that he just wants the best for you.” your heart drops as she carries on, unaware and unconcerned of the other pair of ears listening in to her words. “We don’t know him that well. We can't risk you getting involved in something you're not ready for and throwing your future away.”

At this, Tomura rolls his eyes, interest clearly lost and goes back to his earlier movements. The sloppy kiss to your clit catches you off guard and forces a whine out of you. It was small, but still a noise. Squeezing your eyes shut you prayed this would be written off as an odd sleep noise. Wishing to the sky that it wasn't noticeable and Tomura would stop. He didn’t. It was in that moment he decided pressing a finger against your entrance would bring out more noises. The digit slipping in with minimal effort and adding more pleasure to this mix as he sucked your clit.

If your mother heard anything, she didn't make it known. The floorboards outside of your door creaking with the shifting of her weight. “Well, maybe we can get ice cream or something tomorrow. Have a little girl’s day?” The silence is palpable as she waits for an answer that won't come. “Okay well, goodnight sweetie. See you in the morning.”

You don’t know what you're more grateful for; the sound of her receding steps or that fact that Tomura wasn't cruel and waited until the telltale sound of a door opening and closing rang through the air before adding another finger and curling them. This time you couldn’t bite back the moan that escaped you, hands gripping the cotton of your duvet.

“Aw, how sweet,” Tomura started, sitting up while adding a thumb to your sensitive nub and rubbing slow circles to replace his mouth. “She wants to have a little girls’ day with you.”

His mocking tone would have gotten a reaction out of you any other time, but right now you were so close. On the precipice of an orgasm that’s been drawn out for far too long. You could only look at him with half lidded eyes as his fingers worked like magic sending you closer and closer, your breath hitching as you finally, finally reached the climax. Body shaking pleasure cascades over you like a tidal wave.

“There we go,” Tomura whispers, giving your cunt a playful tap after letting you ride the sensation out. He pulls away completely to take off his sweatpants and underwear, cock already hard and leaking. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips at the sight and you hear his breathless chuckle. “I’ll let you have a taste next time, but right now, I can't wait any longer.”

It was only when he began to line up with your entrance that you absently wondered about the lack of condoms you owned. You look up at him, question burning on your tongue but he only grins at you, and you swore in that moment he was a mind reader. “I didn’t bring any with me, sorry,” his voice was far from apologetic as he stroked his cock, rubbing the head between your folds and against your clit, slick soaking the head. “But don't worry,” he continued, leaning forward and you felt the pressure at your entrance, excitement buzzing through your veins. “I’ll pull out.”

Whether you believed him or not didn’t matter, you had no time to process a thought as he began stretching you to the limit with his size. A gasp escaped your parted lips as the sickeningly sweet feeling of being stretched too far too fast took over. He gave you a minute to adjust, even as his cock twitched in anticipation of movement. The grip he had on your hips was tight enough to bruise and you knew it was taking a lot of his self control to wait for you.

He pressed on, figuring it had been long enough and bottomed out with a sigh. Your walls clenched around him and swore you could cum from the stretch alone. After giving you a second to breathe he pulled back, almost pulling out, only to snap his hips back forward into you. Your head lolled onto the pillow, hand coming up once more to mute the moans dragging from your body. Tomura hoists your legs onto each side of his shoulders,bending them forward and successfully folding you like a lawn chair as he started his aggressive pace, forcing your tight heat to clench around his cock.

“Oh, fuck…” you couldn’t help but mutter as you struggled to hold off your already approaching orgasm.

Tomura saw this as a challenge. “What? You gonna cum on my cock?” he mocked, pace wild and rough, leaving you gasping as you shut your eyes, not ready to admit how right he was. “It's okay,” he continued, leaning closer and allowing his dick to press deeper inside you. The drag hitting the bundle of nerves inside and nearly sending you over the edge. “Come on, cum on my cock like the good girl you are.”

Those words push you over, hips convulsing as your legs shake and it takes Tomura slapping a hand over your mouth this time to quiet you. You couldn’t focus on anything else, let alone keeping quiet. Your body felt light and Tomura fucked you through it. His pace grew more erratic as his grinning face became one of focus, brows furrowing as his eyes shut and he focused on his pleasure. Your pussy squeezing around him making it harder for him to stave off his own nearing climax. You were worried that at this point you were both too far gone. The silence of the home would leave the messy noises between you both loud and clear for the entire house to hear. Tomura was great at keeping his composure but the soft groans coming from your lover only showed how much he was losing his grip.

“Can’t– fuck, sorry–” you didn’t have time to decipher his strange words, your curious eyes meeting his face to gauge his expression before you feel it.

His cock twitches inside you, seed painting your insides white as his thrusts didn't slow. He was hammering away at your insides, only pumping his cum further into you. You feel so full, the warmth spreading over your body like a blanket. He came in you. Even though he said he wouldn’t, he did. The worst part about it? You don’t care. It's invigorating. You feel even more attached to him. Even closer. You want more.

Overstimulated and weak, you whimpered, thoughts swimming as Tomura finally came down from high. Slowing his thrusts and panting heavily. Your heart is drumming against your chest as he removes your sore legs from his shoulders. Shuddering as he slips out of your tight heat, feeling the cum dripping out of you and onto your sheets.

The bed dipped as he took his place next to you. Out of breath and eyes focused on the ceiling. Your ears were ringing with the sudden quietness of it all. Things felt different, heavy.

“You could always just not tell them.” It was Tomura who broke the silence first. “Act sad, mope around, and then come see me at night.”

You glanced over, vaguely registering the sweat cooling on your body. You would need to get up and get cleaned up soon. “Yeah, but if they catch me–”

“They won't. I’ll teach you how.” he turns towards you, bringing a hand to your chin to make you face him. There’s a fuzzy feeling turning in your chest and the familiarity of heat rising to your cheeks is starting to drive you mad. His grin is enamoring, red eyes almost glowing with mischief in the moonlight. “I’ll show you the ropes.”

There's an ache that tugs at your chest as you nod. “Okay.”

You are so fucked.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my works #tomura shiragaki #tomura x reader #mha tomura #shigaraki smut #fanfic #my hero academia

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delulujuls · 4 months

Text

the mad dutchman and the fearless dutchess | mv33

summary: one dutchman is a lot so now imagine putting two dutch teenagers in one team and tell them to not kill each other

warnings: car crash, some cussing, (they sometimes can't stay each other but at the end of the day its just them against the world)

pairing: fem!redbulldriver x max verstappen

Max and Y/N had known each other since the times when they still had scrapes on their knees and wobbly milk teeth. They met at a go-kart school - he had a helmet that was much too big for him, she wore a patched jumpsuit from her older brother. Both didn't know exactly what they were doing or what goal they were pursuing; the most important thing was to be the best - for the joy of their parents and an endless supply of sweets.

However, go-karts quickly turned into racing cars and minor races transformed into Formula 1.

All the way to the top, Max and Y/N's relationship was very dynamic. From exchanging candy together after winning the podium, through years of rivalry and mutual dislike. Despite countless arguments and mutual hatred, Y/N always sided with Max and defended him with her always smaller body. She might not like him and get angry with him to the point of turning red, but no one could tease him or raise their voice against him. This applied to both other kids in the paddock and adults, too.

Both Max, Y/N and certainly Jos Verstappen himself probably remember how after one of the collisions at the end of 2008, Max's father went into a pure rage. While young Verstappen could argue and quarrel with anyone, he lost that ability when his father intervened. Seeing tears on the flushed face of the boy, Y/N firmly clenched her fists and stood between the father and son. Jos's voice caught in his throat when the almost half his size eleven-year-old girl looked him in the eyes and said that she wouldn't allow him to shout at Max like that.

Y/N Y/L/N was fearless both on and off the track. And although Jos Verstappen never admitted it, he was impressed by both her skills and incredible courage.

After the years of intense relationship of Max and Y/N, the unbreakable friendship was born when they both joined Christian Horner's team at the age of eighteen. Red Bull had been following their actions for many years, looking forward to taking them under their wings after their promotion to Formula 1. There was no doubt here - Horner had to have these Dutch duo in his team.

The first victories began to come the moment both Y/N and Max realized that they no longer had to compete with each other. When it became clear that they were playing for one goal and that now it was two of them against nine other teams. There was no first or second driver at Red Bull. There was Y/N and Max, Max and Y/N. There were two crazy Dutch teens, who were focused only on the best possible results. Christian never showed favoritism to any of them, because he knew that by doing so he would waste all those difficult months trying to win them over.

The team's tactics were also amazing, because the race strategy was revealed only after the starting signal. There were no plans or schedules, no strict rules. Whoever had better speed and performance in a given race became the leader. This was not subject to any protest or discussion.

Y/N and Max had known each other practically their entire lives. They had been on the same team for over 6 years, and despite Christian's breakneck efforts, there were still days when there were tensions between the pair. Obviously, there is no good relationship without an argument from time to time, but when it came to a Dutch-style quarrel, few preferred to participate.

"Do you have to be so damn stubborn?"

The girl asked, taking off her helmet and balaclava.

"If I hadn't been stubborn, the fucking Haas would have overtaken us at turn eight."

He replied, unplugging his headphones. His tone was still calm, but there was a trace of irritation on his face.

"He would have overtaken us because we were giving him the tunnel, which wouldn't have happened if you had let me through."

Y/N growled. She had no intention of arguing, but the weekend had been hard and she was exhausted. Max's temperament was absolutely unhelpful in this situation.

"I didn't get an order to let you through."

Verstappen responded by wiping his face with a towel.

"You see me in the fucking mirror and you have to wait for an order? Stop talking nonsense, Max."

He sighed and tossed the towel aside.

"Or maybe you were worse than me, hm? Didn't it occur to you that maybe you just fucked up today?"

The girl clenched her jaw. She felt anger begin to rise within her.

"Out of the two of us, you're the one who fucked up today because you acted like a complete idiot!"

Max snorted and tilted his head back. The button that started the argument clicked into place.

"Do you have anything else to say?"

Y/N pressed her tongue against her teeth. She wanted to unleash hell, but she didn't have time for an idiotic argument and to waste her energy on him.

"Fuck you, Max."

The girl growled and grabbed her things, heading deeper into the garage. She didn't feel like being around him, at all.

She unzipped her jumpsuit and grabbed some water, sitting on an empty crate. The situation from the last race kept replaying in her mind, as did his words. Analyzing and cluttering her thoughts was not good, especially when another training session awaited them, and staying focused was crucial.

"I heard some Dutch swearing," Christian started, standing next to her, "Is everything okay?"

The girl just nodded.

"Max just needs to feel at home sometimes"

Christian squeezed her shoulder and patted her on the back.

"Another half an hour and you won't have to look at him for the rest of the day."

Y/N sighed and rubbed her face with her hands. Despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she was exhausted. The upcoming Grand Prix was making her sweat a lot.

After a while, she received the order that the car was ready and she could go out on the track. She prepared for the drive and took her place in the car. As she left the garage, she noticed Max, who was also getting ready to start. She showed him the middle finger, to which he, of course, did not remain in debt.

Y/N took her place at the starting line, gripping the steering wheel tightly and focusing on the starting lights. When they went out, she raced with screeching tires and sparks flying. The previous session and Max's words kept playing in her mind. What if he was right? What if she really messed up and was worse than him?

The girl cursed under her breath, aggressively tackling the turns. She wasn't worse than him, she wasn't worse than anyone. She had worked hard for her position and everything she had achieved was well-deserved.

"Max started, in a moment the pit lane will be clear of the last Alpha Tauri and we'll have a complete set. Don't rush, focus on management and dynamics,"

"Do you really think they called me the fearless Dutchess for no reason?"

"Just be careful, Y/N. It's just practice; you don't have to prove anything to anyone."

"I don't have to, but die verdomde idioot maakt me gek."

"I have no idea what you just said but please, focus on driving; everything else is not important."

The girl tightened her grip on the steering wheel and accelerated. Everything else was important because she wasn't worse than anyone. And she would prove it, even if she had to—

Darkness.

Y/N only remembered losing consciousness during the accident. She found out about falling off the track, somersaulting through the gravel and still hitting the metal barriers at 120 kilometers per hour only after the fact.

On the track, only one Red Bull car remained, but Max wasn't focused on driving; he was engrossed with the past argument he got with his friend. However, a voice from the radio snapped him back to reality.

"Y/N had an accident on turn eleven. Be careful on the surface in that area."

"What happened?"

"It's hard to say, but it didn't look good."

Max pressed harder on the gas, wanting to pass the accident site as quickly as possible and ensure the situation was under control. When he saw the wrecked car, smoke billowing and no rescue personnel nearby, Max's adrenaline froze his veins.

He parked his car at a distance from the accident, hastily releasing himself from the safety harness. When he got out of the car and saw the fire, he didn't think too much; he ran towards the friend's car, shouting her name, but there was no response.

Max fought against time. Besides him, there was no one to extinguish the fire and he had no idea what temperature the fuel in the tank was. He quickly pulled Y/N out of the wrecked car and, holding her in his arms, ran towards his own car. Hiding behind it, he laid her on the ground and, as gently as he could, removed her helmet and balaclava. He checked her pulse and fortunately, it was there. The impact force must have caused her to lose consciousness.

After some time, the appropriate services arrived at the scene and an ambulance took the girl to the hospital. Max knowing he couldn't finish the race, jumped into the ambulance and squeezed his friend's hand. He was furious with her, but now all the emotions were overshadowed by concern and fear. He hoped that the accident only looked serious and that she was just bruised. Max would never forgive himself if something happened to her, especially because of some idiotic argument that ultimately had no meaning.

Y/N woke up just before the ambulance reached the hospital. She was surprised to see paramedics around her, even more so by Max's worried face, which, as soon as their eyes met, calmed down a bit.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to look into those deceitful eyes of yours." Verstappen said, smiling and squeezing her hand.

"What happened?"

The girl asked with difficulty. Her throat hurt terribly; the hot smoke and vapors had taken their toll.

"You had an accident and you passed out. We'll be at the hospital soon."

"An accident is an understatement," one of the paramedics interjected, removing her drip from the hanger. "You did a Grosjean from Bahrain 2020."

Y/N blinked a few times, and it took her a moment to connect the dots. Judging by the man's comparison, her accident must have indeed been unpleasant.

"What's the condition of the car?"

"Just needs a wipe," Max said, smiling.

The girl rolled her eyes at her friend's words, but started coughing. She quickly put her oxygen mask back on.

"Don't worry about the car," Max said, still keeping her hand between his, "The most important thing is that you came back to us."

"At what cost? At least, being unconscious meant I didn't have to look at you."

Y/N said sarcastically, but she smiled. Everything hurt terribly, but she was grateful that, after this whole situation, she could see a familiar face. Even though it was red and sweaty from the race, it had a genuine smile and tenderness in his eyes.

"I guess she's fine, gentlemen. You can take her back to the track; she'll be able to finish the race for sure," Max said loudly, turning around. Y/N laughed quietly at his words and he returned her smile, squeezing her hand tighter.

The girl didn't realize that the fucking idiot sitting next to her was not just her friend, occasional rival and someone she sometimes wanted to tear apart. Max Verstappen, the mad Dutchman, turned into her guardian angel that evening. And she, the fearless Dutchess, started falling in love with him.

#f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #mv33 #red bull

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nanaminsmoon · 8 months

Note

Good morning!!!! I love your blog so much!!!!💗🫶🏾 Your writing is amazing???

Baby daddy Choso????

thank you so much!!! but thanks for requesting this fren bc i love this so much🤭

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

cw: pnv, unprotected sex, oral (f + m receiving), choking (f+m receiving), spit kink, choso calls reader; 'baby' and 'baby girl', this man is a masochist lowkey, yeah this is a lil nasty

wc: 3858

your twins loved their dad; excited feet would scamper their way to your bedroom, three hours earlier than usual, every friday because they knew it’d be the day they’d see him. and you guys had a routine: you got them ready in the morning, took them to school, then choso’d pick them up, and they'd be his for the weekend.

and, during those 48 hours, there was no beach far enough, nor park busy enough, for choso because he would take his girls wherever they wanted to go. every week, pinkie promises to not tell you about staying up later than rules would allow were made between the trio. then, come sunday morning, the girls would be impatiently jumping into your arms, as soon as you opened your door—usually with some playful change in their appearances. yet this particular one would cause your forehead to crease in confusion,

”what's on my daughter's face?”, you’d ask, once the girls were of earshot. immediately, choso knew what you were talking about but he’d play dumb just to irk you.

”eyes, eyelashes, eyebro—”, he’d start listing, and you’d interrupt him.

”no, dickhead, the thing over her nose”, you clarified and he’d inwardly rejoice at his success at annoying you.

”oh. she saw my tattoo and said she wanted one, so i just got her a little temporary one”, he’d explain, eyes trained on the twins as he waved back at them while they ran around the house.

”and when she wants it for real?”, you’d poke at his chest, and his hand would rise to hold the spot your fingertip had touched as he faked a pained expression.

”i don't know how reckless you think i am, but i'm not gonna tattoo a six year old”, he’d scoff, but his amusement would fall to flatten quite quickly.

as hard as choso tried to fan the hurt fogging his mind, it just wouldn’t leave him. choso could be denounced for his work over, and over, again and he’d bounce back because he was so confident and sure of his abilities. but jabs at his skills as a father never failed to pinch at his heart. people would spend an hour with him, then start to question his parenting abilities based off the way he looked and his reserved manner. the prickling in his chest didn’t come from insecurity, but from sensitivity to reminders of the same baseless assumption. especially coming from someone he deemed to be the perfect parent,

”why do you keep doing that?”, he’d look at you earnestly, and confusion would force your eyebrows together.

”doing what?”,

”making me out to be this bad influence.”,

”maybe it’s because you run around with cancer sticks behind your ears”, you pulled the cigarette from behind his ear, and shoved it in his pocket.

”aside from that. you treat me like i'm gonna corrupt the girls.”, he paused, ”you treat me the way your parents treated me”, due to his appearance and impassive demeanour, most people around you had opposed your relationship with choso. your friends warned he’d be a terrible father, and your parents mistook how reserved he was for coldness, and arrogance. outwardly, he seemed inattentive, rude, and aloof but choso didn’t care because the most important people in his life understood him. he was his daughters’ best friend, protector, and joint number one on their list of favourite princesses to join their tea parties—the other being you.

no matter how many years passed, you’d always love choso. though you weren’t together anymore, the need to defend him against those who misunderstood him had never dissipated. so to hear that you had become one of the people you had spent almost a decade trying to quieten, lunged your heart into your throat.

”choso, i'm so sorry. i didn't know i was being—”, you’d start to apologise, but you’d be quickly interrupted. penitence sunk all your features in a way choso couldn’t ignore; he knew you had no malintent with your words, and he didn’t want you to beat yourself up over it.

”nah, it's cool.”, he waved you off, ”i get it, but you know me. you know i love them to death and i'd never encourage anything that i knew would hurt them. but anyways, i guess i'll go now, i'll see you on frida—”, he’d been stood in the doorway and, as he began to step backwards to leave, your hands would clasp one of his. he’d be visibly surprised, but his feet would still be ladened to their spot.

”let me make it up to you”, you'd propose, and intrigue would raise choso’s eyebrow.

you’d always known there were benefits to your best friend being your neighbour, and today would be the day you’d reap one of them. after instructing choso to sit and wait on the couch, you’d gather the girls’ stuff and take them next door. you’d come back to choso still sat where you had left him, legs spread and large hand dwarfing his phone. the urge to jump on his dick right then and there was stronger than you would’ve liked, but you’d keep composed. even under his fervent glare as he watched you take your shoes off. there’d be a moment of waiting once your eyes met, then you’d beckon for him to follow you. choso’s curiosity was eating away at him, but if there’s one thing he had learnt during your time together it was that he was not to question your plans. even as he realised you were leading him to your bedroom, he’d just scoff to himself and continue trailing you.

once at the door, you’d open it and hold it for him to go in. and, chuckling, he’d enter the room, chills already running down his spine at the way those four walls boxed him into your scent, and swathed him in it. his back being turned to you allowed choso to shamelessly close his eyes, and take it all in. he’d only be brought back to reality by the clicking of the door lock.

”the fuck are you doing?”, he laughed as he turned around.

”making it up to you, now sit.”, he'd raise his hands in surrender, before he’d sit on the edge of the bed, eyes narrowed as he watched you saunter your way towards him.

one thing led to another, and you went from kissing and licking at choso's bulge through his boxers to having his dick throat deep inside you. during your relationship, head had been one of choso’s favourite things. he’d even claimed that, had your pussy not been so good, he’d like head more than sex. there were never enough words to explain it but, to him, there was nothing that drove him crazier than the sight of your eyelashes batting up at him as you took all of him into your mouth, nose tickling his pelvic bone. and, busy with his tattoo studio, choso didn't have a lot of time to date so he couldn't remember the last time he felt a woman's throat enclose around his tip the way yours did. his toes were damn near gripping at the carpet through his socks, as his fingers dug into the duvet. though their one wish was to be entangled in your tresses, scratching at your scalp when you swallowed around him, choso hadn’t forgotten that the reason you had asked him to drop the girls off two hours later than usual, was because you were getting your hair done. so he'd refrain for an entire two seconds, fingers contracting around nothing, before he'd just ask,

”can i put—fuck—my hands in your h—shit, y/n—hair”. and another low ’shit’ would leave his lips when you'd pull him out of your mouth to show him the lewd mix of your saliva and his precum leaking out your lips.

”’f you fuck it up, then you gotta pay for me to get it redone”, you tilted your head to run his length against you lips, and choso’s hands were on your head immediately.

”yes, ma’am”, he moaned out.

though you had been broken up for five years, the mutual sexual attraction between you two had never dwindled, so you two fucking post-breakup was inevitable. that being said, choso hadn't nutted in you in almost two years and he didn’t want the first time in 24 months to be in your mouth. that’s what his heart wanted, but his body would have other plans. head wasn’t just about the feeling for choso, the man loved a performance. knowing this, you’d pull him out of your mouth to allow a string of spit and precum hang from your lips, letting it land on his length again just so you could use it as lube to stroke him a few more times.

”you can’t do shit like that, y/n, i’ll nu—”, his strained voice tried to explain, but it’d be cut short by more of your antics. one second your lips would be around his balls, then the next they'd be damn near touching his pelvic bone, as you took him into your throat again. he'd raise his hand to place it on your forehead,

”w-wait, y/n i'm gonna—fuckfuckfuckfuck—baby, wait i'm gonna cum”, he'd warn, but you'd just take that as a signal to keep hallowing your cheeks and taking him into your throat. the pleasure delayed his reflexes, so choso wouldn’t be fast enough in pulling his dick from your mouth; most of his nut would be inside it and, as you let his dick slip from your lips, he’d get some on your cheek, chin and nose too. the tip of your middle finger would collect some of it, and put it in your mouth, eyes locked with his as you did so.

”i forgot how fucking nasty you are”, he'd chuckle before flopping backwards to face the ceiling, as he just laid on his back.

choso’s love for head wasn’t limited to just receiving, because one of his life’s finest pleasures resided between your legs.

”i just need to get you ready f’r me, baby”, would be his response when you told him he didn’t need to reciprocate. but the truth was, choso luxuriated in the way you grabbed at his hair and closed your thighs around his head—the near suffocation was the closest to heaven he thought he’d ever get. he loved the way your body didn't know what to do with itself, squirming underneath the cold metal of his tongue, and lip, piercing. yet, nothing could dethrone the way the warmth of your thighs taking away all his air made his dick twitch. he'd enjoy the gratifying discomfort they brought, before he'd force your legs open again,

”you taste so fucking good, baby, i don't know how i went without this for so long”, he'd say when he came back up for a breath. his fingertips would dig into your thighs as he placed your legs on his shoulders. fingertips would soon be substituted for large palms, as choso pushed the flesh together to basically cut off his air supply. it felt sick to admit, but he loved the feeling of you essentially choking him out.

choso hadn't intended on eating you out until you came, but once he’d started, he couldn't stop. he’d lost track of time and then, all of a sudden, the feeling of your nails on his scalp was harsher. and if he wasn’t relishing in the feeling, eyes fluttering shut in enjoyment, he might’ve noticed that you were about cum a lot sooner. but he’d only catch on when your babbles became more coherent,

”chos-so, i'm-m cumming, shit”, you'd say, and when his brain finally processed those words, it'd be too late because he'd have your release all over him.

for a few moments, the only sounds audible in your room were your heavy breathing and the sound of choso licking your arousal off his fingers. the glisten of the inside of your thighs would catch his attention, and he’d move to remove them of their shimmer. the feeling of the metal on your skin would coax a jolt out of you, before you’d be backing away from his mouth to sit up and face him. the man looked depraved; hair a mess, and face shining, as he just smirked at you.

the shirt covering your top half would be off, as well as choso’s shirt and boxers. and, seeing your bare body for the first time in years was having visible effects on choso—he was stunned.

”wow”, he said, in a whisper, reaching to hold you but you’d pushed his shoulder.

”what?”, you giggled, and he just shook his head so as to not make you feel embarrassed.

”no, i just…i forgot how beautiful you are”,

”shut up, bruh”, you'd playfully roll your eyes, before pulling at choso’s arm to switch your positions. his interest would be piqued yet again, and you'd quell it with a sloppy kiss to his lips. you’d mount choso to sit at the bottom of his abdomen, and his hands landed on your hips. they'd help you ride the ridges of his toned stomach, taking note of how you moaned into his mouth as your juices smeared all over his lower torso.

you'd soon shift yourself, sliding down his length and choso wouldn’t be able to see much of it because his eyes rolled to shut once he felt you wrap around him. hands placed on his broad chest, you'd move up and down on him and his tatted fingers would dig into your hips. choso’s pleasure was visceral, and he almost wanted it to stop before he got too attached and refused to let it end as he had many times before. when you and choso fucked, you did so for hours because you were both relentless. yet, as good as this felt, choso was ashamed to admit that something was missing.

”this is all for me, right?”, he'd ask breathily, hands stilling you. it’d be hard to formulate thought, because you were just paused with his dick deep inside you. but you'd manage a shabby attempt at a nod.

”well, can you…”, choso’d pause, eyes wandering around the bed, and his uncertainty would make you anxious. when it came to sex, you two had always been honest, and open to try anything. so if it made him cautious, then it was one of two things; something he’d been wanting for a while, or something completely left field.

“could you choke me?”, he'd ask, and your once lidded eyes would be widely staring back at him.

”like…?”, you'd raise your hand, and both of his would engulf it, leading it to his neck.

”this.”, he looked you in your eyes, and your hand grew firmer, ”and just keep it there”, he'd instruct, and you'd nod, before starting to move again.

though new to you, you began seeing the appeal of choking choso very quickly. mainly because of the way his eyelids would flutter, as his eyes rolled to shut, just by virtue of feeling your hand on his neck. not to mention the way his hips would move on their own to rut into you, every time your thumb and middle finger tightened around his throat. he may have been larger than you in stature, but choso was completely under your control. both the tightness of your walls, and the feeling of your hand around his neck—sweat making it hard for you to move while maintaining a secure grip on him—was making him delirious. and he never wanted it to stop.

choso's mouth was making any noise it could muster to express how good he was feeling. he went from quietly cursing under his breath, to just shouting cuss words at you. you weren't far from your nut either; due to both the view and the way his dick’s chase for more pleasure, made choso fuck into you harder. the feeling made your thighs weaken but, ultimately, choso would be the first to let go,

”where d’you want it?”, he asked, and your hand would remain on his neck as you leaned down to speak to him.

”nut in me, choso”, you’d whine, lips latching onto his neck to kiss it. the combination of the sultriness of your voice and your lips attacking the most sensitive spot on his neck, would’ve been enough but choso completely lost it when he’d feel a sting as you marked his skin. he'd cum underneath you, hips stuttering upwards to prolong the pleasure he was feeling. all choso could do was cuss, and dig his trimmed fingernails into you before just laying there, a shell of his former self.

you'd be riding him for a few more minutes, before choso’s control of his limbs would return to him, then he’d have you laid underneath him. no further words would be exchanged before he was slamming into you, silver chains dangling in your face and his hand on your throat, as he fucked you with vigor. as amazing as the opposite had felt, choso much preferred this version of things. he preferred looking down at you as your eyes fluttered and rimmed with salty displays of euphoria, he’d even lean down to lick one as it ran down the side of your cheek. choso indulged in the way you'd grab his forearm as strong as you could, sanguine crescents colouring in the empty spaces in his tattoos. he'd lean down to suck on your nipples, nipping at them just so he could hear the raising in pitch your moans and whines would do when that sensation coursed through you. his eyes would flicker down to the white froth collecting at the base of his dick, as his nut was pushed out of you with his every thrust.

”you're doing this all for me, right?”, he'd ask, and you'd nod, ”this fucked out all for me. taking this dick so good just for me”, he'd say, lips once again around your nipples.

choso wasn't letting up; his pace was merciless, as he fucked you dumb. most times you had fucked, choso would slow down, or pull out, when that familiar constriction of your walls told him you were close. he'd do it until you were crying and begging underneath him, voice growing excrutiatingly hoarse. but, seeing as you already had tears in your eyes, he'd only do it once before he'd just maintain a harsh rhythm as you came around him.

”choso, fffuck”, you cried out, but he'd just keep going. his eyes were so focused on the silhouette of his dick moving in and out of you, as your stomach contracted, that he'd lost all sight of where he was. you could've told choso he was jupiter and the man would've believed you. he couldn't even remember why you guys had started fucking in the first place, all he knew was that he didn't want to stop. to choso, thinking about anything that wasn’t you was a waste of brain power. so he'd turn his brain off and let his body do whatever it wanted to. even if it meant overstimulation for the both of you.

your third nut would be pretty imminent, seeing as choso literally would not stop moving inside of you. but it'd be unlike the others,

”choso, g-gimme a s-second”, you'd say, and he'd shake his head because he knew what you were doing. choso knew your body, and he knew it well; he knew what you were trying to prevent well enough to know that it was the very thing he was striving for,

”you said you doing all this for me, baby.”, he'd remind you, ”’nd i wanna see you make a fucking mess on my dick.”, his words would do nothing but edge you closer to your nut.

”can you do that f’r me?”, he’d ask, and you’d nod your head.

”just f’r me?”, he’d ask, voice laboured, ”i don’t deserve you, baby”, he’d pout before moving down to connect your lips.

and, under his instruction, you’d just let that funny little feeling near your bladder do whatever it wanted to. one of your hands would be struggling to wrap around choso’s wrist, while the other would be gripping the sheets for dear life. the hand choso had placed on your neck would remain stagnant, movement only reserved for the other as it moved to your clit. worries about you moving because of how fast, and hard, he was fucking you were nonexistent because the sweat covering your body meant that you were adhered to the fabric underneath you. choso's tatted fingers would rub on your bud until you came on them, practically spraying him with your release.

a low chuckle would leave choso's mouth at the endearing view of you trying to calm your body down. heavy breaths would slither past your lips, but your eyes remained closed. choso’s hand would plant a light slap to your cheek to wake you back up, but it'd be to no avail. so he’d try once more, this time, grabbing your chin to shake your face until your eyes opened.

”say ‘ah’, baby girl”, he'd ask, and you'd open your mouth as wide as your slack jaw would allow. a line of spit would fall from his lips to your tongue before you'd swallow it, and he'd smirk to himself.

”didn’t even have to tell you what to do”, he’d snicker, and you’d smile contently up at him. the woman choso was seeing was so unlike the one he had met so many years ago, and he dreaded to think that the sweet glint in your eyes had bittered because of him. however, that dread would quickly fade and, in its place, would be a knowing smirk,

”shit, maybe i am a bad influence.”

#nanaminsmooninc #jjk x black y/n #jjk x black reader #choso x black!reader #choso smut #choso x you #jujutsu kaisen choso #i need him real bad #choso x reader

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