#and the interactions between those characters are so cute | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yuujispinkhair · 6 months

Text

We never go out of style

The thing with Sukuna and you is that it's fun. It's fun to kiss him at parties and to take him home and sleep with him. It's fun to just have this casual little on-and-off romance with him because, after all, you both know that you will always come back to each other.

Aka, I listened to Style by Taylor Swift and got the biggest butterflies when I pictured a modern College boy version of Sukuna to this song.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut, College AU Word Count: 2k Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of sex at semi-public/public places. Reader and Sukuna have an on-and-off fling, but both develop feelings over time. During one of their breaks, they both kiss other people and get jealous about it. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

You aren't even sure how you got into that on-and-off fling with Sukuna. It was supposed to be just a little fun at a frat party. A few heated kisses in the kitchen while you were sitting on the counter, and he was standing between your legs, one large hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up to kiss you in a way that made your head spin.

Just a little fun. Just a few sexy kisses with a sexy boy who had too many tattoos, too much confidence, and a reputation that should have sent you running.

You never planned to go home with him. But somehow you did, and somehow you ended up in his bed with him on top of you, in all his naked glory, tall and sexy with all those toned muscles and tattoos. And somehow, your hand was caressing his undercut and tangled in his slicked-back pink hair, ruffling it in a way that made him look almost cute. And somehow, the way he was grinding against you and fucking you into his mattress was the best sex you ever had.

Maybe that's why you walked over to him when you saw him on campus on Monday morning, leaning casually against a fence with sunglasses pushed up into his slicked-back hair, smirking that boyish smirk at you and lifting a large hand to wave you over with one long tattooed finger.

Maybe it was a combination of his skills in the bedroom and his confidence and boyish charm that made you agree to meet him again. Maybe it was the way he flashed you such an attractive smile when you said yes that made your knees feel strangely weak when you walked to your next class.

No matter what the reason was, ever since that day months ago, you have been in this little on-and-off fling with Sukuna.

Never quite the real thing, but also never not a thing.

Sometimes it's a few drunk kisses at a party, where you suck on his tongue and moan when he lifts you up to set you on the kitchen counter. Sometimes, it's loud, excited laughter and a fluttering pulse when he takes tequila shots where he licks the salt off your neck, letting his tongue-piercing glide over your skin. Sometimes, it's a wink and a flirty greeting while passing him in the hallway. Sometimes, it's a passionate hour spent in his bed, forgetting all the College stress when he dicks you down so good you almost cry.

Sometimes, you go weeks without talking to each other, both doing your own thing. But then you'll receive a text message at 3 a.m. asking you how you're doing.

"What's up, princess? Wanna meet up? I kind of miss your laugh."

You meet him every time. And it's always the same after a few weeks of not seeing each other:

A racing heart and a loud laugh when he stands in front of your door with a bottle of cheap wine and a single red rose. Needy, hungry kisses when you pull him into your apartment. Impatient hands tearing at each other's clothes as you stumble to your bedroom.

Your friends start to notice and ask you if you are dating Sukuna. You deny it, laughing and shaking your head. Who would be stupid enough to date him? You know this is something that only leads to a broken heart. No, Sukuna isn't someone for a relationship or anything serious.

But he is fun. So much fun. The bad boy with the charming grin. The arrogant asshole with the sweetest sweet talk you've ever heard. You know he is dangerous. A heartbreaker, a big flirt. Everybody wants him in their bed. He could have a pretty girl or boy on each finger.

You make sure not to get too invested. You keep it casual. A little fling when you feel like it. When you feel like getting fucked so good, you forget your own name. You make sure to push him away a little bit when things seem to become too intense.

You tell him you won't have time for him during the following weeks because you have to study. He doesn't have to know that, in reality, it's because you can't get his stupid charming smile out of your mind or because you catch yourself rolling over in your bed one night and sighing "Kuna" when you think you can still smell his cologne on your pillow where he slept a few nights ago.

This is dangerous territory. It's best to keep your distance for a while. You go out with your friends. You go to bars and clubs Sukuna doesn't frequent, meeting new people, flirting with someone new, maybe kissing one or two others just for the fun of it because you are young and free and you can do whatever you want. Or maybe it is to convince yourself you aren't falling for a pink-haired bad boy with the world's most charming smirk.

Your dormmate asks you if you and Sukuna broke up because lately, she hasn't seen him leave your room in the mornings with his hair ruffled and hickeys adorning his neck.

Another friend of yours approaches you with a sympathetic look and gently informs you that they saw Sukuna with some other girl last night, kissing her against the wall at a party.

You smile through all the comments, shaking your head and brushing it off.

"Oh, that's fine. We aren't dating or anything like that. He is just a little fling. It's not that serious!"

You try to ignore the uneasiness those comments cause. You smile and buy a new sexy outfit, and go to more bars to kiss more strangers, and Sukuna does the same.

Until you bump into him at another party. You turn the corner after grabbing a drink from the kitchen, and suddenly, you run into his tall, muscular figure, your face practically knocking against his chest. And he laughs and raises an eyebrow at you while his maroon gaze trails lazily over your body.

"It's been a while, princess. How was the studying?"

"It was good..."

"What were you studying again? Making out with strangers in bars?"

His eyes glitter challengingly, and his velvety low voice is carefully playful and teasing, but you can hear the edge in it. You glare up at him,

"Oh, you mean the thing you were studying too? I heard you were hanging out with some other girl."

For a long moment, no one says a word, and you just stare deeply into each other's eyes. But then Sukuna laughs and cocks his head,

"Well, it's true what you heard, but it was only two or three times. I'm not interested in her. Especially not now, when you seem to have time for me again."

You know he is leaning down on purpose, knowing full well how hot you find your height difference. You know he is brushing his lips over your ear with the intention of making you weak. You know he is calling you princess in that low sexy voice to make you come home with him tonight and forget all the dumb shit both of you did during the last few weeks.

You know now would be the right moment to tell him it's over for good. But you don't do it. You don't want to.

What you want is to put a hand on his toned chest and grab the front of his white shirt to pull him closer.

"I have time for you, Kuna. I have time tonight and maybe tomorrow, too."

You can feel his smirk when he kisses you, and his muscular, tattoed arms wrap around you and pull you against that tall, strong body that feels so fucking good against you.

"That's good, princess, since I couldn't stop thinking about you and me those last few weeks. It's more fun when you're with me."

The two of you are back at your typical shit again. Passionate kisses at various parties, loud moans, and entangled sweaty bodies in either Sukuna's bed or yours. Once a week, twice, maybe more often. Sometimes, he stays the whole night and makes your dormmate complain about him using up all the milk in the fridge.

The occasional late-night texts turn into nightly calls. Lying in your bed in the dark with a racing heart as you listen to Sukuna's low voice telling you random things he did today, smiling when he tells you to sleep well.

You go to parties together and make out on kitchen counters. You go to clubs and dance and kiss and make it look so dirty that strangers come up to you and tell you to get a room. You give Sukuna a good luck kiss in the morning before his exam and laugh when he walks around with your red lip print on his cheek.

People start commenting again on your relationship status, but you just laugh and roll your eyes.

Just like you roll your eyes when Sukuna pulls up at your place on a Wednesday at quarter to midnight, his car window rolled down, long fingers casually flicking off the ash of his half-smoked cigarette as he smirks at you,

"Wanna go on a ride, princess? Jump in. Let's drive to the beach."

"It's almost midnight, you idiot!"

"So what? I didn't say just for tonight, did I? We can stay for a few days, check into a hotel, have some fun tomorrow at the beach, go swimming, sip sweet cocktails at a shabby little bar, fuck in the warm sand, things like that. I know you want to."

You do.

You know you have an exam next week and really shouldn't miss any courses, but what can you do when Sukuna is here in front of you with his sexy smirk and that enticing sparkle in his maroon eyes, offering you the chance for a spontaneous adventure you will probably never forget?

You get into his car. You let him rest his large hand much too high on your thigh, and you let him kiss you breathless at every red light, giggling when he misses the traffic light changing, and the cars behind you honk. But Sukuna just grins against your lips and keeps kissing you while he lifts his hand to flip the guy behind him off in the rearview mirror.

You listen to him complaining about his teammates and his coach and make sure to nod understandingly and do the "Oh, no, he didn't!" and "Ah, that sucks!" at the right moments, earning you a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

You check into a cheap hotel down at the beach, feeling your heart beating like crazy because it feels like you are a criminal couple on the run in some noir movie. Or maybe two forbidden lovers meeting here in secret, far away from the cruel reality where everything is too serious, and people expect you to be a responsible adult.

Sukuna fucks you like he's starved for your body. Hard, deep thrusts and bruising kisses. Passionate sex that makes the old bed creak loudly while the sound mingles with your gasps and moans of Sukuna's name. Rough fucking that turns into surprisingly gentle lovemaking later that night, and Sukuna's soft moans against your neck and sweet little nothings whispered in your ear.

You return home two days later, feeling lightheaded and a bit sore from all the sex you had with Sukuna during those two days. On the hotel bed, in the shower, at the beach at night, on the drive home in his car.

His hand is on your thigh, slipping a bit under your short skirt, caressing your skin while he kisses you thoroughly in his parked car in front of your dorm. Maybe his hand tightens a bit on your thigh, not wanting to let go. Maybe you do the same, your fingers tangling in his soft pink hair, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away and saying goodbye.

When you finally exit his car, he grins at you with lips that are swollen from all the kissing and smeared with your lipstick. The red one that he likes so much on you.

"I'll call you when I'm home, princess. And let's meet again on Tuesday or something. I heard there's a party at Choso's dorm."

"Alright… or you could just stay the night."

The smile that lights up his face is enough to make your breath quicken. He is out of his car in a second, a large hand on the small of your back, steering you towards your front door. And you are grateful for the darkness of the night that helps you hide the stupid big grin on your face.

You don't know if you will ever be more than this on-and-off thing. You don't even know whether you would want it to be more. You don't know if you ever want to date Sukuna for real or if you ever want to call him your boyfriend.

But you know he is your boy, and you are his girl.

It doesn't matter how long your little fling will last this time, just a week or maybe a month. It doesn't matter if you'll go your separate ways for a little while again at some point. In the end, you will always come back to each other. Because one thing is for sure: Whatever the two of you have will never go out of style.

I HAD SO MANY BUTTERFLIES WHILE LISTENING TO THE SONG AND WRITING THIS AAAHHH!!! College boy Sukuna is my weakness. I'm so in love with him!!Help meee!!

So yeah, I decided that 1989 is a great College Sukuna album, and I will now go back to listening to it again and daydream about him.

I hope you enjoyed this little story and that it could give you butterflies too, maybe!! Please tell me how you liked it.

Comments and reblogs would be sweet.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #sukuna x you

1K notes · View notes

etchstar · 1 month

Text

COD characters and how i think they’d act when they are in a secret relationship with you

═══════ ⋆ghost⋆ ═══════

✮ everyone would know, not only because simon would refuse to go easy on you in bed, despite the thin walls and ruining his team mates sleep schedule, he didn’t want you to ‘hide those pretty sounds you make for him.’

✮ He would refuse to take his eyes off you during training, making sure to pay close attention to where his teammates hands were placed. One time price had to hold him back from Gaz after you happened to straddle him during a take down.

✮ When the squad realised it was probably best to just let you train with him, you know he would sneak in some cocky praising. He’d love to pin you underneath him and watch you try and squirm your way out as your stubborn nature only turned him on.

✮ Would definitely lie to you about missions if he felt that you would be put in danger, this annoyed you a lot.

✮ Was always by your side if you were on a mission, he would get mad at you if you strayed from his eyesight, often when you get a kill you’d be met with a stern glare from ghost for putting yourself at risk. only to be met with a spanking later that night.

✮ Would fuck you til you couldn’t walk, and when you wake up there would be a note telling you he was on a mission and to ‘not worry’ cause he ‘hadn’t finished with you yet’.

═══════ ⋆könig⋆ ═══════

✮ So distracted, whenever price was going over a mission outlook, König would often zone out watching you sort out your pens in coloured order, highlighting information about the target, sometimes cutely chiming in with study of your own to help the group out. He’s thankful he wears a mask otherwise everyone would be able to see his tinted pink cheeks as he tries to readjust the tent in his pants.

✮ You would take König’s protectiveness over you and use it against him in training. If he were to flip you on the matt you were quick to let out a small whine which caused him to loosen his grip and quickly inspect you for any damages he did to your small figure, keeping in mind the size and weight difference between you.

✮ It all began when you needed König’s oversight on your research of a target. You burst into his room not realising the fact that the man was on his bed stroking his cock to the thought of how you’d managed to make him feel during training. When he saw you in there he was quick to cover up expecting you to run, or be horrified at what he was doing with how innocent you are in his eyes, but instead you dropped to your knees in-front of him.

✮ You LOVE teasing könig, mainly cause he won’t do a thing about it until the end of the day when he would force his member into you often cooing to you as he cradles you in his arms letting you adjust to his size as your pussy spasms on his cock letting out small whines into his neck.

✮ Was quick with medical attention, no matter what it was. Once you cut your finger using a knife cutting up salad, guess who was beside you with a first aid kit, bandaid and a kiss for your finger to get better. Ghost quirked his brow seeing this interaction remembering the moment könig dislocated a man’s shoulder tackling him and doing nothing about it.

✮ Found it so cute the way your small hands gripped the guns and how you’d often complain after carrying around a hefty weapon all day.

═══════ ⋆keegan⋆ ══════

✮ You and Keegan had a— rough beginning. To say the least you hated each other, anything you did Keegan had to do better and when he finished he’d just stare at you with those emotionless eyes pissing you off. That was before the team had busted a large undercover operation, going out for drinks to celebrate, causing you to wake up in his naked arms seeing his face for the first time.

✮ After that it was purely sexual, you still were silently competitive often trying to prove who was better, or who could make who cum first.

✮ After doing extended research on a target, price decided to give you your own mission allowing you to take Keegan, Soap and König along to a meeting breaking down the perps daily routine and secret doings still feeling those burning eyes on you the whole time.

✮ Keegan couldn’t explain it, he was infatuated by you, your constant drive to do better, the way you moved with such grace while controlling a knife, not to mention the face you’d make when he hit that certain spot inside you that made you let loose and forget about your seemingly one sided competition you had against him. When you’d melt on his cock and turn from soldier to slut for him shaking your hips trying desperately to drive him deeper.

✮ One day in training when it was just you and Keegan you’d managed to get him on his back quickly straddling him laughing at your victory over him, before you realised Keegan had lost control pulling you into him kissing your lips passionately before fucking you profusely in the middle of the training room.

✮ After that all you and Keegan seemed to want to do was find ways to sneak off during training and come back to each other risking the team finding you fucking like wild animals in the most inconvenient of places.

═══════ ⋆price⋆ ═══════

✮ You worked in the infirmary, acting as a worried nurse to the team, often scolding Ghost when he would go too hard with training and keeping the base tidy adding a woman’s touch here and there.

✮ You wouldn’t find out about price’s feelings for you until the teams base was invaded after tracking a terrorist organisation. Seeing you held in his targets arm with a knife against your throat as you tried to reassure the team to stay calm as tears stained your cheeks

before price put 3 bullets in the man’s skull. You were a bit shaken up for a while but that didn’t stop price from continuing your duties forcing the team to clean up after themselves and getting a new bouquet of flowers every week for the vase in the infirmary.

✮ It wasn’t until price was injured and sent to you that you had gotten to properly thank him, removing his shirt and working on his wound trying to ignore his built torso and rippling muscles before he tucked a hair behind your ear whispering how beautiful you were, yeah that’s it, your lips met his in a passionate slow but rough kiss.

✮ The team didn’t miss Price’s extra visits to the nurse and they certainly didn’t miss the lipstick prints on his neck or the undone fly of his pants leaving the infirmary.

✮ Price’s new found interest let the team have some more control over meetings, training and dinner, realising that the two people who acted as their parental figures started retreating to the same bedroom every night, rather than cooking dinner or joining for a movie before bed. Not that you were sleeping anyway.

═══════ ⋆soap⋆ ═══════

✮ You and soap were polar opposites, while you believed strategy for a mission came down to planning and being organised soap constantly undermined your set up immediately going for the throat no matter what the circumstances, although most would find it brave and inspiring you found it plain fucking stupid. You were always yelling at him trying to make him understand the risk he was putting him and his teammates in by not listening to you but all he seemed to do was smirk at you before teasing you about the fact that you’d go a light shade of pink when you were mad that he thought was cute, once more undermining your anger.

✮ That was until one mission, soap went in doing the wrong thing the wrong time again not sticking to schedule, guards had alerted the target who had made a quick escape ruining the mission. The team came back to their base all understandably pissed off but none as livid as you. You’d stormed into soaps room demanding an apology before he’d have you pinned against the wall nipping your neck. That night he took the anger of the failed mission out on you.

✮ The next day soap made a point to start planning the next mission going over your studies gathering locations of where the target could be before putting you in charge of a plan that he’d promise to follow.

✮ It’d worked, using a small camera and earpiece you were able to tell soap exactly what to do and when to do it while letting him handle the combat stuff successfully bringing down a large drug pin. The team cheered to your name raising their glasses before downing the alcohol and letting loose for the night. You thanked Soap for listening only to be met with a heated kiss dragging you to the toilets for a quickie.

✮ The next mission was easy, soap didn’t need your lead but insisted on having you in his ear anyway. Unfortunately it was the same day your vibrator arrived in the mail, you decided you’d try it out and let soap have a listen, that was until the earpiece cut out.

✮ Your door slammed open that night revealing an angry soap, throwing his earpiece on your side table demanding an explanation as all you did was give him a cheeky giggle. That was before he fucked you senseless of course.

931 notes · View notes

anonymouscheeses · 2 months

Text

Bonus under cut vvv

Later that same day:

And... I made an Emily redesign too...... *sniff sob /j* it's not final (like all my redesigns) I'm just trying get better at this design stuff and where better to do it except my current fixation ehhh?????

Long Emily design explanation/rant thing ignore it probably but pls dotn im desperate: I wanted to make her more round and soft cuzzz I love those typa designs I'm just a sucker for circle characters. Made her actually black and not fuckin gray cuz its a transformation to look more human and gentle(for me they go between two forms, their true ones that we see the first time we see them snd their human/softer ones if they ever interact with actual humans which... they usually dont.) Not a demon form tfff. In this version I wanted to put Emily in animal inspired features like... the sheep nose, ears, and hooves. Because she and Sera know that humans and about all beings love animals. Birds have sharp features mostly so they don't look as welcoming as they want to seem. I wanted Emily to look sheep likes and pretty much all the seraphim look more sheep like to make Lucifer stand out as the only one who was symbolized as a snake/goat(still don't know if I'll make him goat or make Lillith goat. I'll decide when I get there lmao). Justtt overalll wanted Emily to look more round, welcoming, and cute. I kept the freckles lighter than her skin color(even tho that's SUPER not accurate to what actually black people look like with freckles but whatevr) because it reminded me of fawns and.... sure Emily is a sheep but I still wanted to incorporate other cute animal traits with her cyz y not.

#suggestive #ig???#tw suggestive #art #fanart #digital art #artists on tumblr #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel emily #chaggie #chaggily #two and a half halos #unholy trinity #the chaggilu shipnames arent ass but unholy trinity isnt solely them snd taahh is too long #so ive come up with somrthing new and has nothing rlly in the tag alrady #why that name? because 1. Charlie is pure but is the princess of hell. 2. Vaggie “betrayed” heaven for giving mercy to a child.#3. Emily is still an angel who went against heaven to speak up for the people of hell being exterminated #they are all just soo pure snd deserve the worlldd i swearr.... but to other peoples eyes(atleast soem) they arent good ppl and omgg 😭#plsss dont sleep on this ship name i came up with it in 5 seconds so i worked soooooooooooooOoo hard on it /sarc #but srsly plssssss use iyttt #rainbowmoth #varlie #royalhalo #charlie x emily #charlie x vaggie #emily x vaggie #THATS THE NAME THATS SUPPSED TO BE BETWEEN THE OTHER SENTENCES BUT IM NOY GONNA REWRITE THEM CUZ IM LAZY #unholy virtue

654 notes · View notes

hematomes · 8 months

Text

ive seen people getting upset because the traveler is kind of hard on lyney and lynette despite them having good intentions and being very apologetic and it's kind of beyond me mainly because the arguments are ass

some say that it doesn't make sense because they forgave childe right away - first, that's blatantly wrong. they didn't forgive childe immediately, it was mostly tense with him on the events that followed the quest, and even in his own character quest. second, you have to take the traveler's character development into account. between what happened with childe and the last quest, they've had way more difficult interactions with the fatui. signora, shouki no kami and the entire quests that led to those? of course they're even more wary of the fatui, they've been personally dealing with them for the past 3 years?? and i only mentioned the weekly bosses & main quests but there's also the side ones - not to mention discovering what dottore had been doing in the sumeru desert on the mad scholars

there's another argument about how they'd been more amicable during sumeru, and while that's true, the circumstances are SO different. imagine getting involved in a very serious trial and investigating for 2 people, only to realize they've been lying to you (something that the fatui KEEP doing to the traveler for obvious reasons). don't forget that the traveler has two goals: discovering the truth about teyvat, and finding their sibling. the rest is side shit that they get willingly involved in

their reaction was perfectly understandable, no matter how cute and nice and good-natured lyney and lynette was. it was still betrayal and lying (childe never hid his alignment with the fatui btw), and im glad the traveler's back to having an actual personality even if that means snapping at a character i like

#genshin impact #aether #lumine #lyney #lynette #genshin 4.0 spoilers #genshin impact spoilers #genshin spoilers #i can't BELIEVE im defending childe. fucking hell

1K notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 4 months

Text

you be my revolver, i got you in my hands

character: choso kamo x fem!reader

genre: curseless!au, smut

notes: eeee first choso piece ever!!! i had such a blast writing this and i wish i could’ve gotten it finished in time for christmas but alas! anyway, please enjoy this and as always please heed the warnings below and stay safe! | title credit: girl like me by dove cameron

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (reader + choso are family friends), age gap, bratty reader, rough sex, minimal prep, teasing, hints of manipulation, hints of dubcon, size kink, pet names

words: 6k

synopsis:

“Maybe you should stop calling me that.” “What? Why?” you pout, blinking up at him, sugared innocence coating your tone. “I thought you wanted me to call you big brother…I thought I was allowed to…” “Bi-Big brothers don’t do stuff like this with their little sisters—” “Well, it’s a good thing we’re not actually related then, isn’t it, onii-chan.”

Choso can’t remember the last time he saw you.

You’ve known each other for a long time—so long Choso’s lost count of the years, now, having met you when Yuuji was just a toddler (and you were, too) at the bus stop on Yuuji’s first day of Pre-K, only to discover you lived a mere few houses from each other—but you haven’t seen each other in a long time, too.

It’s not through fault of either of you; life had gotten in the way, as it has a tendency to do so, had grown busy with intricacies and obligations that demanded time and attention, tangling around you and keeping you apart.

You had both embarked on university endeavours; him pursuing his PhD, you continuing your undergrad, had both stuffed more and more into your lives—art shows and book readings and music festivals and tropical trips—and lost space for each other in the process.

Choso can’t remember the last time he saw you, but it feels as though no time has passed at all, as it normally does with family—you’re still just as bratty as you’ve always been (some things never change, he guesses; some things you’ll never grow out of, he supposes).

Family.

Family is not a word he uses lightly, but you and yours had quickly become his and theirs, had quickly become ours, morphing from neighbours to friends to practically kin, members mixing to form something special, a hybrid of some sort, stuck somewhere between long-standing family friends and blood relatives.

Which is why how you’re acting—how you’ve been acting, this entire winter break—is so undeniably inappropriate.

And although he’s lost track of the years, everything beginning to blur together, to melt and flow and shift and breathe, he still remembers the day he told you to call him onii-chan.

That he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.

Yuuji’s so lucky, you had pouted, kicking at the sandy ground with the toe of your shoe and swaying a little on the swing. He has a big brother. I don’t. I’ve always wished I had one. Sighing, you looked away, fingers tangling in the chain. But I’ll never get one; it’s impossible.

It’s not impossible, Choso had responded gently, nudging his swing against your own. I’ll be your big brother, if you want.

And you—well, you had been so incredibly happy, all bright smiles and sunshine eyes and breathless giggles, to have a big brother to call your own.

Never in his life did he think he’d come to regret such a decision.

But you seem to be on a mission to make him, this Christmas.

Because you’re really testing his fucking patience, this Christmas.

The term of endearment oozes from your lips as if it’s melted in the wet heat of your mouth every single time, always paired with your worst behaviour: bending over in those short, sweet, slutty skirts and flashing cute Christmas panties at him; placing a hand much too high to be appropriate on his thigh as you watch a film together, leaning close to his ear to murmur out a silky question you already know the answer to; twining your ankles with his beneath the dinner table and gazing at him with eyes full of sin, leaning so far forward on the table that your tits swell, nearly spilling from the too-low neckline of your dress, then giggling when you catch him ogling.

As a result, he’s been meticulous about avoiding being alone in a room with you—he doesn’t trust himself, doesn’t trust what he might do, especially if you start playing your little games—but he should’ve known it would only be a matter of time until you get want you want.

Because it always is.

And on Christmas Eve, you finally succeed.

Somehow, you’ve managed to get him alone in his childhood bedroom—something about wanting to flip through his old sketchbooks, to search for some doodles he had drawn for you many years ago, to rip the pages from the spiral-bound spine and stuff them in your back pocket, for safekeeping, you had claimed.

Tugging at his heartstrings, that’s how you succeeded.

Sitting on the edge of his small twin bed, thighs slotted up against one another and both of your arms looped around one of his, he flips through the curling pages of his drawings, smudged with graphite and pastels.

“Oh, I remember this one!”

A dainty finger points to a cute kitten sketched out in astonishing detail, with a pink nose and a satin ribbon tied in a bow around its neck.

“It’s you,” he smirks. “You asked me what animal you’d be, and then demanded I draw you as a kitten when I responded with a cat.”

“You drew a lot of me,” you lean forward, swelling breasts pressed flush to his bicep, a palm sitting high on his thigh as avid eyes scan over the spread, gaze stuttering as it sweeps from doodle to doodle.

“I drew a lot for you,” he says, the observation entirely unthinking. “You wanted a specific page, but I might as well give you this whole sketchbook. More than half the pieces in here are for you.”

It’s a fact that shocks him in its authenticity, a realization that sends a painful, sick thrill searing through his body, saliva beginning to collect in the dips beneath his tongue.

“I’m such a lucky girl,” you hum out in a sigh, nuzzling your cheek into his arm and looking up at him with shimmering eyes. “I have such a good big brother.”

“You’re spoiled,” he says, but his voice holds no malice, eyes softening as he stares down at you, a small smile on his lips.

“I dunno about that,” you frown, but mischief glints in your eye. “You haven’t really given me what I’ve wanted all holiday…”

Blood turns to shards of ice in his veins, whole body going rigid as his breath stalls in his throat, pounding heartbeat reverberating in his ears.

“Wh-What’s that?”

He doesn’t want to ask it, doesn’t mean to ask it, but the question claws at his tongue, pries past his teeth and tumbles from his lips in a ragged, tangled heap.

And the smile that spreads across your face is nothing short of sinister, that glint flaring to a sharp shine as your pupils breathe, pulse, swallow him whole.

“A Christmas kiss,” you say, stare unblinking and intense as your hand slips between his legs, rubbing little circles into his inner thigh, a mere centimetre or two away from his cock.

The motion makes him jolt, hips involuntarily twitching toward your touch, brushing his half-hard cock against your knuckles.

“That’s all I want,” you sigh almost dreamily, tits pressed harder into his bicep as you lean closer, so tight they’re practically being squeezed from your sweetheart neckline. “A kiss from my onii-chan. Though…”

Trailing off, your hand slides up a little further, pinky and ring finger tiptoeing along the rapidly hardening lump in his jeans, squealing out a short giggle as it jumps beneath your touch.

“I’m not sure that’s all onii-chan wants.”

“Onii-chan doesn’t want anything from you,” he breathes out, but his voice is rough, unconvincing, his hands curled into firm fists on his bedspread, trembling slightly, skin stretched taut across pointed knuckles.

“Another lie,” your lips tug down, voice saturated with disappointment. “You know, good big brothers don’t lie to their siblings,” you fix him with a look, glaring through feathery lashes, expression teetering dangerously on the edges of a pout.

A shiver skitters through his bones, whole body stiffening. His jaw flexes as he grinds his molars, a slow, controlled breath exhaled out his nose, his eyes flicking down. You’re still touching him, two fingertips rubbing gentle circles into his clothed cock.

“Maybe you should stop calling me that.”

“What? Why?” you pout, blinking up at him, sugared innocence coating your tone. “I thought you wanted me to call you big brother…I thought I was allowed to…”

“Bi-Big brothers don’t do stuff like this with their little sisters—”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not actually related then, isn’t it, onii-chan.”

“That—That—” he swallows hard, dense saliva pooling at the back of his tongue. “That doesn’t matter—We shouldn’t—”

“But—” your lip juts out further, forehead crinkling. “But I want to.”

You can’t always get what you want.

That’s what he wants to tell you. That’s what he wishes he could tell you. But it just isn’t fucking true, when it comes to you.

“Stop,” he says instead, and although it’s supposed to be an order, it comes out as a plead, his voice hoarse, strained, thin, the proclamation high and false and tinny.

“You’re a terrible liar,” the tip of your index finger traces the head, looking up at him through your lashes. “Did you know that?”

He does, he does know that. He’s a terrible liar, eyes too honest, voice too sincere, expressions too candid, always giving away his true intentions and forthright thoughts.

He’s a terrible discipliner, too, incapable of saying no, of refusing his siblings anything. You know this, too.

“St—” he tries to force the word from his tongue again, protest sticking in his throat. Stop, stop, he wants you to stop, he needs you to stop, please.

But that’s a lie, too, the rejection refusing to take shape, to mold into something audible, something tangible, something worthwhile.

No matter how much he wishes it were true, he can’t will it to become true—not when he wants this just as badly as you do, his straining cock exposing his real desires to you.

You’ve already taken full notice of it, yearning for you through rough denim, hot and hard and throbbing. The pad of your finger rubs over the slit in rhythmic motions, smooth and gliding, aided by the copious amount of pre-cum oozing through the material, and it jerks beneath your touch, eager for more attention.

“It’s so hard, onii-chan,” your hand cups the impressive bulge, rolling it in your palm, a girlish giggle tickling your tongue. “It—It’s throbbing, onii-chan.”

“Yeah? And who’s fault is that?” he breathes, attempting to keep his tone stern and his eyes stony.

“It’s making me want to ride it,” you whimper loudly, squeezing your thighs together, completely ignoring his question. “Oh, please, onii-chan, can I ride your cock?”

“Fu-fuck,” the curse breaks on his tongue, eyes shut tightly, breaking away from your invasive stare. “Fuck, fuck, f-fuck.”

No.

“I’d really like to ride it, onii-chan.”

No.

“Can I? Pretty please?”

No-no-no-no-no!

He wants to say no. He should say no. It’s the right thing to do.

He’s the older brother, the eldest brother, it’s his duty to say no, to mentor, to lead by example.

But he can’t.

He can’t form the word in his throat, can’t mold it into a sound and push it from his mouth.

He’s never truly been able to, when it comes to you—and he was so fucking stupid to think he would.

Because, as always, you are making it exceptionally difficult to deny, gazing up at him with shimmering eyes like that, mouth licked raw in anticipation, bottom lip bitten puffy from the front teeth constantly sinking into it.

“I—It isn’t right—” he attempts, swallowing thickly, cords in his neck straining, desperately attempting to quell the tremor in his voice.

He knows you don’t care. If he’s being entirely honest with himself, he doesn’t, either, his morality eroded to nothing more than a farce, a thin façade, not nearly strong enough to force him into doing the right thing, not nearly strong enough to fortify his rapidly waning self-discipline.

“I—I won’t tell,” you whimper, and he can see the fine film of tears lacquering your eyes, shielding lust-blown pupils. “Pinky promise! I just—I just want you so badly,” your nose twitches cutely with a sniffle, your bottom lip beginning to waver with infinitesimal quivers, soft palm caressing his cock like you love it. “Please, onii-chan?”

And Christ, you’re so pretty, so pouty, with your glistening puppy-dog eyes and pleads dripping from your lips like thick syrup.

How could he possibly say no to something so precious? How could anyone?

“Alright,” he whispers, defeated, eyes squeezing shut as he nods. “If it’ll make you happy.”

“Really?”

And just like that, the tears are incinerated from your eyes, gaze bright and blazing with excitement, lips molded into a brilliant smile.

You look so sickeningly beautiful when you get what you want.

“Yes,” he nearly whimpers, and it’s pathetic, his hips twitching up into your touch, craving, desperate. “Yes, yes, ride my cock.”

The affirmative is all you need, squealing a little with happiness as you climb into his lap, fingers up your own skirt to push your soaked panties to the side, other hand pawing clumsily at his waistband.

“Thank you,” you breathe, the words soaking into his neck, sealed with a sloppy kiss. “Oh, thank you, onii-chan.”

He can’t help but chuckle a little as his hands find your waist, instinctive, steadying you.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you.”

“This is all I want,” you tell him, pulling back a little to search his face. “S’all I’ve wanted for a long time.”

He wants to ask you to elaborate on that, confusion warping his brow, but then you’re yanking at his belt loops and pulling at his zipper and wrapping a soft palm around the base of his cock, a heavy groan vibrating in his throat.

“Wait, wait!” he chokes on a gasp as you hover over his cock, head bumping against your hole. “Let me—”

“I don’t wanna wait,” you whine out, petulant and stringy, whole face scrunched in frustration. “I’ve been waiting! I want your cock in me now!”

Fuck, you’re such a fucking brat, he’s growling as he forces you down on his cock in one swift motion, the sudden intrusion pushing a yelp from your lips. Your forehead knocks against his, sugar-stained breath wafting across his face, his tongue darting out to mop up remnants from his mouth.

It’s really cute, the way your little cunt spasms around his shaft as he bottoms out, pressed snug and tight against your cervix, desperate in its attempt to adjust to his girth. It’s really sweet, the way your body splits itself open for him, cracking at the core and struggling to swallow him down.

“Oh, it’s so big, onii-chan!”

“God,” he nearly sobs. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, y’know that?”

Giggling, you wind your arms around his neck tighter, nuzzling your cheek into his skin, then stringing a garland of wet kisses along the line of his jaw.

“S’really thick, Choso-nii,” you tell him honestly, nodding in lethargic little motions. “I feel so full, onii-chan.”

A laugh falls from his lips, breathy and exalted.

“I don’t know if it’s that I’m big, or if it’s just that your cunt is so fucking small,” his voice tapers off into a whine, raspy and gruff.

“H-Hurts a little, onii-chan,” you admit in a whimper, hips shifting in experimental little movements, conjuring a groan from deep within his chest.

“Yeah? And who’s fault is that, huh?” he asks for the second time in fifteen minutes. “Who was too impatient to let onii-chan prep her?”

“Don’t care,” you mumble. “Wanted you s’bad.”

He laughs again, warm and gentle and full of love, his hands squeezing your hips just enough to make you gasp, fingertips pressing his name into your flesh in blotchy little ovals of purple.

“You have me,” he says, his words ringing clear and true with a painful sincerity.

The vibrations of your responding hum seep from your chest into his, and he sighs, body deflating against yours, pleasant little tingles snuggling between his ribs.

You stay like that for a moment to two, wound up in one another, chests pressed flush, breathing as one. Your auras ebb and flow, presences bleeding, tangling together and creating something that is neither one nor the other but both, a single shared entity.

And it’s nice, it’s real, it’s natural.

But then you become impatient, as you normally do, as he knew you would, wiggling a little in his lap, fingers twining in the strands at the base of his neck.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he urges gently. “Ride onii-chan’s cock.”

And so you do, hips beginning to roll in slow, languid circles, fingers still laced at the back of his skull, half-buried in messy ink.

He allows you to set the pace, allows you to take your time, allows you to enjoy and savour every rock and grind and bounce, staring at you through heavily lidded eyes, hands on your waist merely guiding you—keeping you stable, just like a big brother should.

He’s absolutely breathtaking; gaze glittering in the dim light overflowing with awe, spit-slicked lips licked raw and shimmering as his tongue glides over them again, swollen and bitten cherry red.

You can’t help but reach out to trace his features; the strong line of his brow, the delicate curve of his cheek, the enticing bow of his lips, hips slowing to uneven little ruts as you hone your focus, his eyes observing you with a sick sort of fascination.

“Did you—Have you—Have you thought about this before?”

The question stings his tongue, revulsion flushing through his blood as guilt pricks his flesh, his cock throbbing eagerly.

“Course I have,” you breathe out with a little laugh, as if he’s so silly for thinking you might not have. “Actually, I—I—”

A sudden shyness overtakes you, an unsure giggle on your lips fading into a soft squeal as you hide in his shoulder, shaking your head a little.

“What? Huh?” he shrugs, nudging your face up gently, curiosity clawing at his irises as they search your face, voracious. “What?”

“Well, sometimes I…”

The words tangle in your throat and you choke on them, gaze fleeing his own, and you shake your head again, chest beginning to stammer.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, rubbing reassuring circles into your flesh. “You can tell onii-chan, go on.”

There are tears in your eyes now, mouth wobbling a little with the verging confession, and God, that’s so hot, why is that so fucking hot?

“Where’s my brave little sister gone now? Hmm?”

“M’right here, onii-chan,” you whisper, face teetering on a wince, as if you’re bracing for a blow, terrified to admit to him, fearing reprimand. “It’s just that—Sometimes I do, um, really bad things with my stuffies while—while thinking about you…”

Dewdrops of shame glitter in your lashes as your lids flutter, nose scrunching with a soft sniffle, tears breaking free of their wispy confines to roll down your cheeks in fat, glimmering streams—so fucking beautiful in the dim light of his bedroom—but you don’t dare break his stare, gazing at him through a thick shield of water.

“Oh, Christ,” he coughs on the curse, hands flexing on your waist, blunt nails digging into your skin. “And what—what do you think about?”

“Um,” your gaze flits from his own, to his wrinkled bedspread, then back to his face, wide and honest. “Riding you, like this. And—And riding your thighs, makin’ a real mess all over them, and your thick fingers too, filling me up…”

Bolts of dizziness sear his brain as his lungs deflate, oxygen eaten up by pure lust and leaving his chest buzzing, burning, some sort of response mangling itself in his throat, escaping his lips as nothing more than a cracked moan.

“Do you think about me, onii-chan?”

Your question pulls him from the depths of his hedonism and he blinks, your face swimming into view, a peculiar mix of hope and cognizance infusing your expression, eyebrows raised with false curiosity, a smirk twitching on your lips.

Ah, there she is, that brat he knows so well, that brat he’s come to crave, every ounce of uncertainty eradicated from your face, replaced with assured confidence, contradicting the tears still staining your cheeks.

You fucking know he does.

And, oh, how he wishes he was stronger, how he wishes he could lie, how he wishes he could devour the smugness in your eyes and complacency in your smile, to humble you, to knock you from your high throne.

He settles for a kiss instead, mouth crushed to yours as a large hand cups your head, thumb pressing into your ear, fingertips dragging across your scalp as he yanks you closer.

It hurts, his front teeth scraping against your lip as he practically gnaws his way to your tongue, his own big and thick and so fucking strong as it overwhelms yours, shoving it further into the cavern of your mouth and forcing it to stay put as he explores.

He’s making a real mess as he slathers over your molars, over the inside of your cheeks and the backs of your teeth, drenching your mouth in him. Drool oozes steadily from the corners, collecting along the underside of his bottom lip and leaving his chin sticky and slick.

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes shut so tightly his whole forehead crinkles, mouth wet and sliding against your own. “Yes, yes, I think about you—much too often.”

Nose nudging yours, he nuzzles into your face a little, planting a chaste kiss to your lips, then peppering a few more, quick and sloppy, around your mouth.

“But right now, I don’t want to think about anything. I just want to feel you creaming all over my cock—you think you can do that for me, princess?” His palms cushion your cheeks, thumbs swiping across your cheekbones, then brushing strands of damp hair from your temples. “You think you can do that for your onii-chan?”

Yes you can, of course you can, you’re nodding, blinking the last remnants of tears from your eyes, rapid movement eliminating the final stubborn drops, clinging delicately to your outer lashes.

“S’it, baby,” he encourages as your hips start moving again, working up a steady rhythm. “Just like that, good girl.”

A mewl slips from your lips, burrowing your scalding face in his sticky neck again, his undivided attention almost too much to bear.

“Like it when you call me a good girl,” you murmur, lips dragging across his skin with the confession, streaking him with thick glimmers of spit.

“Is that so?” he laughs a little, pressing a few kisses to the crown of your head. “That’s because you don’t hear it often.”

Lifting your head, you scowl at him, though there’s no heat to your glare, fury dimmed by fondness, unable to smother the smile playing with your lips.

A dazzling smile spreads across his own face in response, and he laughs again, his eyes so bright, so brilliant they almost hurt, blazing like two small suns, scorching your skin as his gaze glides over it.

He watches you like a man possessed, a man obsessed, entirely entranced by the way pleasure passes over your face, twisting your features into the cutest little winces as you grind the head of his cock against your cervix, then smoothing them out with bliss as his shaft drags along your favourite spot, bouncing in shallow little motions to rub over that fleshy patch hard and fast, a stream of mewls spilling from your lips, stitched together with his honorific.

“You’re so pretty when you ride my cock,” he groans, words tapering off into a hoarse whimper, as if it pains him to admit it.

His palms run up your sides, fingers counting over each rib, hands committing every dip and curve and bulge to memory, marvelled by the way you fill his grip, as if he can’t believe you’re real, you’re here, you’re his—even if just for tonight.

“Yeah, yeah, keep going, use onii-chan like a toy, sweetheart.”

And he tries to be patient, he swears he does—tries not to rush you, tries to relish in the moment, in each swirl of your hips and every puff of his name—except your pace never accelerates, never moves past anything but teasing as you use his now aching cock to continually edge yourself; moans building higher and higher, louder and louder, on the cusp of the crest before they disintegrate into nothing and you start the process all over again, the delicate fluttering of your cunt enough to drive him fucking insane with desire.

It has his entire form trembling with such vigour it’s quivering the mattress, muscles locked stiff and tight as he tries to keep from moving, from bucking up wildly, from forcing you to speed the hell up. Rough fingers sink into your flesh so deep it dimples, a pathetic attempt to ground himself, rapidly blooming bruises staining your flesh.

But he’s powerless to stifle the whines leaking through the gaps of his gritted teeth, hands flexing on your hips, whole body pulled taut with restraint.

He’s sure you can feel his cock twitching inside of you, eager and impatient, begging you to move faster, to fuck him harder.

But you aren’t going to do any of that—not unless he asks for it, he realizes dimly, after you bring yourself to near orgasm for the third time in a row, giggling a little at his crestfallen expression, his hair having fallen almost completely from its trademark spiky buns, braided fishermen sweater soaked with sweat and sticking to his now heaving chest.

He really thought it was real this time. He really thought you were finally going to cream all over him, so he could finally flip you over and fuck you properly, pound you into the mattress and stuff that pretty, cute little cunt to the goddamn brim with his seed.

He’d been trying so hard to be nice, to be the loving, doting, good big brother he is—but he’s also only human, and there’s only so much misbehaviour he can bear before, finally, he snaps.

Because, sure, big brothers are meant to care for, to lead and to nurture, but they’re also meant to teach, to punish, to put bratty little sisters back in their fucking place.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Huh?” his grip on your hips tightens, halting you from moving. “You think I’m fucking stupid?”

“Never, Choso-nii,” you gasp, astonished. “I would never—”

Sincerity rings in your voice, but he can see it, the mischief tugging at the corners of your mouth, barely suppressed by your façade of innocence.

Anyone else would’ve been fooled—enchanted by your doe eyes and your dainty voice.

But not him.

No, he knows better now.

“Bullshit,” he cuts you off, eyes narrowed sharply. “You wanted to ride my cock, but you’re clearly incapable of it—”

“No I’m not!”

“—So it looks like I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

“No! I—I can do it!” you cry, face crumpled in fury, nails scrabbling at his shoulders.

“You lost your chance to prove it to me,” he growls.

The world flips suddenly, momentarily a blur of inks and ivories, a breath of surprise punched from your ribs as your back slams against the mattress, trapped between the bedspread and your big brother’s heaving chest.

“You have been testing me all fucking holiday,” he snarls, specks of spit splattering across your cheeks. “Onii-chan shouldn’t give you his cum—onii-chan shouldn’t have given you his cock at all!”

A certain type of haughtiness corrodes your shock, lips spreading into a pompous smirk.

“Oh, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you, onii-chan.”

“You little bitch!”

His hips shove forward, forcing you further into the plush of the mattress, cockhead ramming against your cervix. A little noise of pain vibrates on the back of your tongue, shattering your arrogance, and a grin smears across his face, glinting in the moonlight.

“I think it’s time your big brother teach you a lesson in respect.”

“Y-Yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”

“You’re going to take what onii-chan gives you, and you’re going to fucking like it. And then, at the end, when you’ve gone stupid from the cock you don’t deserve, you’re going to thank me for giving it to you at all. Do you understand me?”

Defiance shines in your eyes, lacquered by a thin coating of tears, nose scrunching up in a glower.

A rough thumb and forefinger, hardened by charcoals, clamps around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks with such force that your mouth puckers, a sticky little whine squealing in your throat.

“Do you understand me?” he asks again, each word said slow with purpose, each word annunciated with intent, his eyes boring into yours, sharp and painful.

Finally, those tears push past your bloated lashes, shoved from your eyes by rapid blinking and rolling down your cheeks in glistening pairs, a half-stifled hiccup stuttering your chest.

“Y-Yes,” you whisper, nose twitching.

“What was that? Onii-chan couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes, onii-chan.”

“Good girl.”

And then his hips are snapping, hard and fast and immediate, fucking into you with such ruthlessness that it jostles your body up the bed, sheets collecting in little wrinkled bunches beneath you. Your nails sink into his shoulders, piercing flesh through the knit of his sweater, the muscles in your thighs tensing as your ankles hook around his waist, his shirt riding up, your heels digging into the those cute little dimples that cushion the base of his spine.

It hurts, every pound of his cock producing a dull, throbbing ache low and deep in your gut, another torrent of tears rushing to flood your vision.

“Ch-Choso-nii, Ch-Choso-nii,” you whimper, face screwed up in pain, his name stuttered by his rapid thrusts.

“What’s the matter?” he pouts, and it’s so condescending, dripping from his lips in an over-exaggerated coo. “Can’t take onii-chan’s cock?”

The question wafts across your face in a panted breath and you lick at your lips, sopping it up with your tongue.

“N-No,” you say, and that telltale brattiness is back, watered down by his viciousness. “I can do it—I-I can do it for you, onii-chan.”

A throaty curse escapes his lips, thrusts stammering out of rhythm for a moment as his cock twitches, and a helpless giggle bubbles up in your throat.

Even angry, he’s still so fucking easy.

He regains his composure quickly, though, face hardened to stone but beginning to splinter with pleasure.

“Brat,” he breathes out, though there’s mirth shining in his eyes, pure and fond and full of love. “You better.”

And even angry, he still sounds so fucking pretty; cracked moans and dense groans and choked gasps, all flowing from his mouth in a single stream, fractured by the piston of his hips.

The pain doesn’t fade, of course—it barely diminishes at all, the sheer massiveness of his cock making it near impossible to be dispelled, keeping the cramping pang in the pit of your belly steady and constant—but it does amplify the pleasure, nerves gnawed raw by the agony, left hypersensitive to the sparks of ecstasy that blaze through your veins with every quick, rough pump of his hips, every deep, hard slam against your bruised cervix, every rapid drag over that engorged spot.

It leaves you feeling high, leaves you feeling stupid, brain melting in a hot haze of lust and rendering you incapable of forming a single coherent thought beyond how incredible his cock is, his name and his title the only two things your sloppy, numb tongue can fully scrape together.

It’s all so much, too much, but it all feels so fucking good—s’good, Choso-nii, y’r so-so good—sentiment vibrating indistinctly in your chest.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he asks, words gone wispy, fading into a whine. “Does your onii-chan’s cock make you feel good?”

Yes, yes, yes, onii-chan, it’s so good, you’re so good!

Your head nods frantically, fingers curling in the collar of his sweater, a mess of affirmatives fucked from your mouth.

“Y’know, you’re kinda cute when you’re too cockdrunk to misbehave,” he chuckles a little, biting back a moan as your cunt clenches at the compliment. “May-Maybe onii-chan should fuck you stupid more often, huh?”

Oh, God, yes, onii-chan; oh, please, onii-chan!

“Yeah, you’d like that a bit too much, though, wouldn’t you, you little sl—ah—slut.”

Drool dribbles from the sides of your mouth as you continue nodding, eyes wide and unblinking, encrusted with stars.

“Y’so pretty, onii-chan,” you manage to mumble out, sentiment tangled in threads of spit, fingers flexing in the fabric of his sweater, as if they yearn to touch but can’t find the strength to carry out the action.

And he is, so beautiful it’s borderline sickening, strands of onyx plastered to his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, strung together in clumps and saturated in sweat; damp skin glittering in the waning moonlight spilling through the slits of his window, dewdrops catching delicately in the beams as he pounds into you, every drive of his cock accelerating his pace.

“W-Wan’your cum now,” you slur the demand through a lax pout, lids beginning to weight with exhaustion, heavy as they frame dopey eyes.

“Yeah?” he laughs a little, gaze shining with adoration, and it’s breathless, it’s beautiful, his affection wafting over your scalding face. “Onii-chan needs you to cream all over his cock first. Can you—” a grunt cuts him off, and he whimpers, pushing through his sentence, his voice strained. “Can y’do that for me, angel?”

“Uh-huh, uh—uh-huh,” your head begins nodding more fervently again, pushing your lids open with some effort to stare up at him, pupils swelling with devotion and determination.

“Then show me—Show me how gorgeous my good girl looks when she’s making a mess all over her big brother’s cock.”

Three more thrusts and your cunt is obeying, convulsing on his thick shaft as heat gushes around him, so much that you can hear it—a sick, slick squelching as he jackhammers into you, your essence coating his thighs in a shiny layer of arousal.

“Oh, fuck,” his eyes shut tightly before springing open again, suddenly rabid, ravenous.

The bed creaks as his hips speed up, skin sticky with arousal as it slaps against your own, the sharp sound mingling with his ragged pants and your hitched mewls.

“Onii—Nii-chan,” you nearly wail, fingers tangling weakly in the hair at the nape of his neck, nails scraping against his flesh. “Please, please, cum, gimme—gimme y’r cum!”

“Greedy little thing,” he rasps out, voice cracking into a whine.

But you don’t care, you can’t care, pleads spilling from your lips as your thighs tense around his waist, hips twitching in erratic little motions, crudely trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Need it, need it, onii-chan, fill my belly with it, onii-chan, please!”

“Christ,” he chokes on the curse, pace faltering as he finally gives his baby sister what she wants, cock throbbing almost violently while it fills you with hot, thick cum, so much you swear you really can feel it, stuffing your belly as full as it can be, tummy bulging cutely with his seed.

You must tell him that, sentiment slipping from your lips without your permission, because he moans again, his cock giving another weak spurt, hips stuttering as he tries to fuck further into you, grinding the head into your sore cervix.

“Yeah, yeah,” you’re murmuring, hips rolling up to meet his own. “Push it into me, onii-chan, push it into my cunt nice n deep, do-don’t waste a single drop!”

“You really are gonna be the death of me,” he whines, face buried in your hair as he collapses on top of you, hips still moving in lazy little circles, shudders of overstimulation rippling through his form.

“Mm,” you hum, on the cusp of unconsciousness, nuzzling your face into his neck like a kitten, then lapping at a few droplets of sweat streaming down the column. “What are lil sisters for?”

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #this ended up being waaaay longer than i originally indended #absolutely no one is surprised #tw:pseudocest

580 notes · View notes

blue-likethebird · 6 months

Text

Reusing the memory system from botw for the tears of the dragon storyline in totk was such a terrible decision on so many different levels that it’s honestly kind of impressive.

While the botw memory system had flaws of its own, there was one small but significant thing that worked in its favour: botw’s memories were largely separate from the main plot in the past, and have absolutely no bearing on the story being told in the present. Aside from a few specific instances (ie the calamity striking, the ceremony, Link and Zelda becoming closer) the memories are all self-contained moments that emphasize character development over driving the story. Because there’s no major narrative throughline between them, it gives players more freedom to discover in any order regardless of how much they’ve progressed through the main quest without running the risk of stumbling across a memory that ruins something else later on in the game.

(This got long so the rest of my analysis is going under the cut.)

The biggest change between the memories from botw and the dragon’s tears from totk is definitely what kind of information these cutscenes relay to you as the player. Botw’s memories are primarily snapshots of small interpersonal moments that hold very little significance to the greater narrative taking place in the past. Totk’s memories are the greater narrative. With only one major exception -that I’ll touch on in a sec-, every cutscene in the dragon’s tears shows a crucial moment of story development with no time left to explore the characters driving that story forwards. There’s no organic moment revealing, say, a quirk of Rauru’s that Mineru finds annoying, or Sonia’s sense of humour, or any of our literal Main Villain Ganondorf’s motivations for going to war with Hyrule. If there’s any moments of character focus they only happen in ways that advance the plot (meaning the only real character focus is on the characters totk wants the entire universe to orbit around, namely Rauru and Zelda), and as such it’s harder to bring myself to care about what happens to anyone.

To illustrate the point I’m trying to make here, compare the memories of the champions Link regains during the divine beast quests to the conversations with the ancient sages at the end of each temple. The memories make passing mentions of the ongoing preparations for the calamity, but the real purpose of those scenes is to showcase who the champions were as people before their deaths and give us a reason to mourn them, even though we know at the start of our journey that they’re all long gone. In contrast, the conversations with the ancient sages are all about the events of the imprisoning war and their promise to Zelda that their descendants will come to Link’s aid in the future, very obviously copy pasted for each of the five times that cutscene is brought up (which is a particularly egregious moment of bad quest design but that’s a rant for another time) in such a way that none of the 5 incarnations of that cutscene reveal anything new about the ancient sages as characters, to the point where none of them even show their faces. I care about Daruk because the game shows me that he cares deeply about the wellbeing of his fellow champions and brings out the best in others. So why should I care about the nameless, faceless sage of water? What’s there to move me about their struggles if my only interactions with the sages are a series of exposition dumps? If the game can’t give me a reason to sincerely care about its main characters, the whole rest of the story is meaningless.

(As an aside, I get the feeling someone on the dev team caught on to the issue I’m describing here, because the tea party memory sticks out like a sore thumb from the rest of the dragon tear cutscenes. It’s such a jarring change of pace to have the otherwise plot-heavy dragon’s tears come screeching to a halt for a scene where Sonia sits down with Zelda to have a cute little tea party and talk about absolutely nothing of significance that the whole thing almost seems like it was hastily tacked on to the story later. Given that the next (chronological) memory sees Sonia fall victim to an unceremonious death by chiropractor, it feels like someone realized that Sonia really doesn’t do or say much in the scenes before she dies and threw together the tea party scene so players would have at least one moment to look back on fondly when she’s fridged. But I digress)

The story told in the dragon’s tears is a highly linear one. But the open-ended nature of botw’s memory system remains, meaning that these tears can be found and viewed in any order. At first this doesn’t seem so bad, since the first two tears you’re likely to find if you follow the game’s intended path are also the chronological first and second of the memories you can discover through these geoglyph tears. But after those first two, the game kinda gives up on guiding you towards these tears in a way that flows well with the story they wrote: the closest tear geographically to the two the game initially guides you towards correlates to one of the penultimate scenes of that entire storyline, while the next scene chronologically is found almost halfway across the map. As such, it’s all but guaranteed that you’ll spoil yourself in some way without using either a guide or the (somewhat unintuitive and never fully explained by the game) little map in the forgotten temple. Finding memories in order didn’t matter so much in botw because the scenes you could find still worked well as standalone scenes before you discovered every memory and pieced together the full picture, and the game is never trying to surprise me about the characters’ fates at the end of this storyline: hell the first memory you’re guided to shows the calamity striking. But in contrast, viewing a dragon’s tear at the wrong time can completely ruin the story they’re trying to tell in those cutscenes. During my playthrough, for example, the first tear I found after the game stopped guiding me to them showed Ganondorf removing Sonia’s stone from her dead body. At this point I had known Sonia existed for all of like an hour, so every subsequent appearance she made was ruined for me by the fact that I already knew she was nothing but cannon fodder to be killed off for the sake of another character’s pain (Rauru and Zelda a-fucking-gain). I expected to be pissed that it was so easy to spoil myself, or maybe sad in passing that a character with her potential was so underutilized, but instead I just felt… tired. I wasn’t even halfway to the first settlement and already I was completely numb to the story the game was trying to tell.

But the worst was yet to come. And oh boy was it ever a low point for storytelling in the Zelda series. Remember how I said up above that the memories in botw had no connection to the story in the present? Let’s just say the same cannot be said for the dragon’s tears.

It’s May 2023. I’ve just finished the sage of wind questline. I still have hope that the story the game is trying to tell will be good. Deciding that I’ll go to Goron city next, I head towards the Thyplo skyview tower to expand my map, catch a glimpse of a nearby geoglyph from the air, and glide over to check it out. This geoglyph shows me a memory that not only recaps the entire dragon tear storyline, but also ends on a bit of foreshadowing about Zelda’s fate that’s about as subtle as a brick to the fucking face. By exploring -the thing the game claims it prioritized above all else in the design of its world and quests- I’d once again been hit with spoilers for a major story detail.

My main objective in this game is to find Zelda. It’s the only driving factor behind my journey towards all these different regions. The current big mystery I’m supposed to solve is why Zelda’s causing so much hell for the people of Hyrule. I now knew exactly where she was and what the deal with her appearances in other parts of Hyrule was, and I’d found it completely by accident by doing something the game says over and over again that it wants me to do. Unlike with Sonia’s death, this time I was a mess of emotions. I was pissed the fuck off that this open-world game had punished me twice already for trying to explore. More than that, I was disappointed that a game I had been so excited to play, from a series I had so many fond memories of, had let me down like this. With every subsequent quest where the sages and I chased a Zelda I knew was fake to our next objective, and every NPC wondering where she was that I couldn’t tell the truth to, that disappointment grew. The entire rest of the main story was ruined for me before I had progressed past 1/4th of the regional quests and a third of the dragon’s tears. There was no more sense of anticipation or mystery. I finished the rest of the game with a bitter taste in my mouth and haven’t touched it again since.

Do I think this story could have been good? Honestly, I don’t know, and by now I don’t really care either (that’s a lie. I care so so much and that’s probably why I hate totk as much as I do). But it’s all irrelevant, because like Cinderella’s stepsister cutting off her own heel so she can cram her foot into a glass slipper that’s never going to fit, totk is sabotaged by the devs’ insistence that everything fit itself into a world they custom-made for botw. This isn’t a new formula that the series is following, it’s Nintendo slapping a new coat of paint on an existing skeleton, and I’m not optimistic to see what this particular approach has in store for the Zelda series. Especially not at the price they’re charging for it.

#bluebird.txt #salt of the kingdom #totk critical #long post #totk salt #totk spoilers #apologies to my followers for the long-ass whatever this is #I do think about things that aren’t how much I hate this game I’m just in a mood lmao #negative #it’s fine if you disagree I just had to put my thoughts in words

593 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 11 months

Note

can you write atsv characters reacting to a masc or Gn reader being super motherly/fatherly to a kitten? Just romantic stuff no smut

Miles Morales felt the beginnings of a smile stretch across his lips when he caught you helping the kitten dip their paws into some paint and then letting them parade about the canvas, leaving colourful paw prints in their wake with a variety of colours that meshed well despite their opposing components.

(He secretly thanks that it ain’t acrylic paint cuz that’s a bastard to get out, trust me.)

It made his heart swell at the wholesome sight that he couldn’t help but join in on the fun by drawing about the paw prints, making adjustments so that they’d look like a portrait of a field of unique paw shaped flowers, whilst adding his own flair of art style by sketching out the sky before bringing out the marker pens and colouring pencils that he had laying about.

Bonus if he has some music playing in the background because it means you and the little kitten get a private concert when Miles starts singing the lyrics under his breath as he’s taken away to his happy place. You loved getting to see his art in process as you got to appreciate the dedication he puts into each of his works and it brought an even bigger smile to his face when the brown kitten would try to follow the lines of his pencil as though it were a laser; so much so that the finished product was made of lines that stopped and started elsewhere but Miles was talented enough to make it into a work of art worth having in a museum somewhere.

‘Watch out Miles, you’re not the only artist in this family anymore.’ You teased as you both watched as the kitten dipped their paws back into some paint and walking across the bottom of the canvas so it would look as those some of the petals of the flowers had wilted off. ‘He takes after me, don’t you little man?’ Miles says as he puts a hand out -palm up- for the kitten, uncaring that there’d be a smeared purple paw print there afterwards, he was use to getting a little messy. You chuckled at the interaction, ‘so does that mean I’ll be expecting frequent collaborations between you two in the nearby future?’ He shrugs but before he could open his mouth, the brown kitten mewled at you both, making you look at him as he sat next to the canvas that looked to be filled with more colourful white paw prints that doted the sky like stars, ‘that’s to be discussed.’ Miles tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before picking up the kitten to wash his paws whilst you put the canvas somewhere safe to dry.

Pavitr Prabhakar felt as though he could die of cuteness overload when he caught you and the kitten you both had rescued engaging in a multitude of playful games; one of which being based off is something you’ve noticed that the kitten would do whenever you disappeared from it’s sight, where it would then mewl loudly, only stopping when you gave in and poked your head out from the doorway as though it did nothing. So now and then you or Pav would purposefully hide yourselves from the kitten and wait until it either starts mewling or looks for you both themselves; then and only then would you reveal yourselves before repeating the process to see whether or not the kitten had gotten closer then last time.

Another thing you liked to do with the kitten was have them in your lap as you lightly tickled their tummy before pulling away as the kitten imitated your movements by stretching their paws above their head before you proceeded to tickle their stomachs some more and repeating the process; each time dying at how cute your little kitten was that you couldn’t help but cover them in a flurry of tiny kisses against their fur.

You didn’t acknowledge Pavitr until you heard the sound of a photo being taken which was when your head whipped in the direction the sound came from, only to spot Pav with his phone in hand. ‘How long have you been standing there?’ You asked him as the kitten had started to drift to sleep in your lap, leeching off of your warmth. ‘Long enough to capture a photo of my two beloveds and make it my Lock Screen.’ He responded as he turned his phone to show you the picture he had taken and needless to say his photography skills were phenomenal; the picture has captured the moment beautifully and the way the light from a nearby window beaming down onto you and the kitten, silhouetting you both somewhat, as you smiled down at the kitten with an abundance of love and affection in your eyes as the kitten looked to have reciprocated those feelings by looking up at you in an admirable way.

‘It’s a beautiful picture but it’s missing something.’ You tell him.

Pavitr makes a face as he sits down next to you, where the kitten then shifted from your lap to his, purring in content as he ran his fingers over the kittens fur. ‘What would that be?’

‘You.’ You said blatantly as you grabbed his phone from him and took another picture but this time with all three of you; that picture picture quickly became Pavitr’s favourite as it took over as his new screen lock that he loves to look at whenever he felt down or needed a reminder of what he’s got waiting for him after the day was over. The life of being Spider-Man was hectic but it was made all the more worth it when he got to experience moments where it was just you, him and your little fur baby.

Miles, gwen and Hobie would have these types of photos shoved in their face whenever they meet up, but they didn’t mind as it was a sight to see Pavitr beaming as brightly as he did when you or the kitten were brought into the conversation. He’s a proud cat dad with a whole album dedicated to capturing the kitten within every moment of it’s life.

Gwen Stacy stood at the doorway, watching with slight amusement as you set up a makeshift bed for the kitten -a russian blue, you later found out- that was drifting fast asleep on your pillow. Gwen wasn’t that partial to keeping the kitten, mainly because in due to the amount of commitment you’d both have to put in to raising them, but it seemed as though you were more then willing to put in the work as the moment you both found the poor thing seeking shelter underneath a parked car after Gwen heard it’s mewls for help.

You personally made sure that the kitten was being fed, hydrated, bathed, and just overall taken care of while she looked for a good family that would properly take care of Blue; a name you had only just recently picked out after a week of temporarily housing the kitten. However it seemed as though overtime your bond with Blue had deepened significantly to the point where most of the spare space you had became play areas for your newest addition. ‘They seemed to have made themselves quite content there don’t you think.’ Gwen points out and you couldn’t help but internally coo at content Blue looked upon your bed and how their entire body was almost submerged within your bedding, you didn’t have the heart to move them in fear of disrupting their sleep.

‘Yeah, seems as though they have, cheeky little bugger.’ You said fondly as you moved away from what was originally going to be the designated place for Blue’s bed and knelt by the side of your bed, lightly running your fingers through Blue’s soft fur as a soft smile beamed across your face at their comfortability to be vulnerable in front of you and Gwen. ‘You love them don’t you?’ She asked as she moved into the room and knelt beside you and resting her head against your shoulder, having watched you build a trust bond with this kitten made her rethink her whole ideology on have a pet, that if she did find a proper home for Blue. She doesn’t think she could handle seeing how heartbroken you’d be in having to give up the kitten you’ve spent countless hours and sleepless nights raising as though they were your own; which was why she had stopped looking entirely weeks ago but never told you.

You rested your head atop of Gwen’s as you sighed, ‘of course I do,’ you tell her, ‘as tiering as raising this little primadona was, it was all worth it.’

‘Then it’s settled then.’ She tells you and you looked at her in confusion. ‘We’re keeping the kitten and besides,’ she shrugs, ‘I couldn’t find a suitable home for them and you’re both too adorable to split apart.’ Upon hearing this your eyes brightened, ‘does that mean we’re cat parents now.’ You whispered excitedly to Gwen as she could could only smile back from how infectious your happiness was and how she was happy in being the one to bring that happiness out of you, knowing firsthand how deeply you loved Blue and now she wanted to be apart of that too. ‘Yes y/n, we’re cat parents now.’ Gwen agreed as she looked at Blue as they slept. ‘Welcome to the family Blue Stacy.’

Hobie Brown could tell there was a change in your demeanour when you returned home, completely drenched and with your jacket bundled in your arms as though you were crawling something; It also didn’t help that it had been raining for the past week.

‘Are you mad?’ Was the first thing he asked and you shrugged, knowing he was more worried then he was upset, ‘I’d like to think that I’m mentally sound.’ You replied without a hitch. Hobie sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant against the wall. ‘Would you at least tell me what’s so important that you had to take your jacket off, whilst in the rain no less.’ Before you could speak, your bundled up jacket moved in your arms restlessly until you eventually unraveled it to reveal a scruffy looking kitten with dirty brown fur.

Hobie should’ve known that you went out of your way to make sure that the kitten was kept out of the rain, even if it resulted in you catching a cold the next day from doing so but he knew you’d do it again in a heartbeat; It was in your nature to uplift others into your arms. If anything pissed him off, it would have to be the fact that many people only viewed pets as an accessory they could shop for whenever rather then the lifelong companions that they were; he hated it even more when those same people abandon them out on days like these, despite knowing damn well that they wouldn’t survive.

‘Now before you say anything, I found this little guy in a alleyway in a cardboard box that was soaked and rotting, I couldn’t leave him there Hobie, the poor guy was too weak that I could nearly hear him meow.’ You let the kitten down gently onto the floor where it then proceeded to run towards Hobie, looking up at him defiantly. Hobie couldn’t help but chuckle as he knelt to floor, holding his hand out -palm up- which the kitten then proceeded to sniff and upon deciding neither him nor you were threats, the orange tabby then allowed for Hobie to pick him up.

‘I like the fire in this one’s eyes,’ he tells you as he began to stroke the tabby’s fur as it purred, ‘though we do have to give him a wash soon before we do anything else but I’m sure I can find something to make a collar out of.’ You gasped, running up to him and the tabby in his arms, ‘you hear that little buddy,’ the kitten only blearily blinked at you in response, ‘you’re staying.’ You whispered, gingerly scooping them out of Hobie’s arms, lost in the plans you had in store as you wandered off to prepare a bath, leaving Hobie to watch on with an amused look upon his face; brainstorming his own plans with the little tabby that looked at him from over your shoulder in a desperate plea for help.

Yeah, he loves his little anarchist family already.

1K notes · View notes

turbulentscrawl · 5 months

Note

I need more shy s/o headcanons...

Could I ask for a shy s/o with two of your favorite idv characters? How would they react with someone shy?

Maybe sfw and nsfw? 👀

Can do eheh

I did keep these a bit shorter, since they're more specific. But I hope you enjoy ;)

Norton Campbell

SFW

-This relationship would take a good while to develop because neither Norton nor you are likely to initiate it. But once the acquaintance hurdle is jumped, you find out just how little Norton gives a damn about shyness. (In a good way.) He talks to you like he talks to anyone else, rarely reacting to or drawing special attention to your timidity. If you respond to him, great. If you don’t, you don’t.

-It’s both cute and hilarious when the pair of you interact with other survivors. You’re so shy, and Norton is so stoic, and inevitably you’ll end up flustered over something and just bury your face in his chest and he just does not care. If he needs to move while you’re occupied this way, he’ll ask you to stand on his boots, and just walks off like that.

-He’s also one of the tallest guys in the manor, so feel free to hide behind him. Again, he really doesn’t care. If you hide under or behind something else, he just nonchalantly pokes his head in when he needs to say something to you.

-The only time he ever gets frustrated by your shyness is if it causes problems while you’re in danger. If those situations ever do arise, Norton is quick to throw you over his shoulder and remove you from the situation himself, regardless of any protests. Safety and health come before comfort.

NS/FW

-Norton is a little different about your shyness here than in public; he’ll let you get away with it in the bedroom for all of five minutes. After that, the manhandling comes into play.

-Norton will respect a genuine boundary, but he thinks claiming ‘you’re shy’ is just another way of playing hard to get. And Norton is hard…that’s it, he’s got a hard-on. He’s ready to go.

-No he will not leave the room pitch dark just because you’re embarrassed about being naked. And no, he won’t let you hide under the covers the whole time either. And no, you will not hide your red face behind or muffle those pretty little sounds with your hands. Try it and he’ll rather effortlessly pin your wrists over your head with one hand.

-The one time he kind of lets you get away with any of this is when he’s got you face-down-ass-up on the bed. He’s a little preoccupied with pulling your hips back to meet his thrusts, so if you plant your face in a pillow or something he’s less likely to reach over and rip it away. He will however definitely take it as a challenge to make you scream loud enough to be heard through the block.

Luca Balsa

SFW

-Luca is good with shy people! He’s energetic and talkative enough for several people, and he doesn’t mind carrying the conversation so long as you don’t mind his rambling. Honestly if his s/o is shy, then between them, Andrew, and Victor, Luca starts to look like the trope of an extrovert collecting introverts.

-He’s not crazy with PDA, but Luca does like leaning close to talk, and holds your hand whenever his are free. He always checks with you before trying to initiate PDA in a new kind of situation, but after that he just trusts it to apply to all similar ones. No sense in calling attention to your shyness and possibly making it worse.

-Luca thinks your blushing face is the best thing ever, so he does occasionally go out of his way to draw it out of you. While he doesn’t exactly have a poetic disposition, he has earnestness on his side. Who wouldn’t be flustered when he gets down on one knee and kisses your fingers?

NS/FW

-He thinks it’s fun to make your shyness a game. Whenever you hide away, it’s clearly because he has to earn seeing your best expressions.

-Cue Luca doing his damnedest to suck your very soul out, only pulling away periodically to ask through gulps of air if he’d “earned it yet?” No? Well, he’s not done yet. At some point you’ll be driven wild enough to choose pulling his hair over shielding your face.

-He’ll hold both of your hands with his own too. or, better yet, put your arms around him? He can deal with some angry red marks on his back for a while. Just expect a few revenge hickies.

-If you’re really so shy…he can be out of the room for your pleasure time. How? Oh, just this little remote-controlled thing he made for you. …Wanna try?

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #norton campbell x reader #luca balsa x reader #idv prospector #idv prisoner #spicy content

479 notes · View notes

jnginlov · 9 months

Text

i love you, again

your boyfriend has a bit of an endearing habit when he gets drunk and after a stressful day you couldn’t be happier to hear it

⇀ pairing s.coups x reader

⇀ genre fluff, slight hurt/comfort (but just the comfort)

⇀ style one-shot/blurb

⇀ word count 1.6k

⇀ warnings drinking (reader has wine, cheol is drunk), talk of being stressed, food, so sickly sweet

⇀ reactions from the gc “You love me so much🥹this was perfect”

note i wrote this MONTHS ago for syd and i guess myself cause i had the shittiest week known to man (ignore the formatting idk why i was writing with capitalization bleh)

Seungcheol wasn’t known to be a lightweight, especially compared to some of his other band mates, but there were certainly times when he’d gotten past the point of making sense. You predicted that tonight might be one of those when he’d texted you that he and the boys were all going out to celebrate the end of their incredibly successful promotions for their latest comeback. Usually he might invite you to tag along, as many of the members enjoyed bringing their partner along, but he knew you’d had a tough day, the kind only recovered from by alone time, so he had let you know where they were all going and that he’d probably be home a bit late, and you were honestly a bit thankful that you would have the entire apartment to yourself for the next few hours at least. You loved your boyfriend, but honestly if you had to interact with another person face-to-face for very much longer before you had your personal decompression time, you might just break down.

So, when you get home you move as slowly as you feel like, pouring yourself a glass of wine, running a bath with your favorite bubble mix, that you remind yourself to thank your boyfriend for restocking earlier in the week, and ordering your favorite comfort food to be delivered just before your skin would start to wrinkle in the water. Once you’ve settled onto the couch with your food and pulled up your favorite movie you can already feel that most of the day has melted off your shoulders.

As the movie ends you check your phone for the first time since you've gotten home, there are a few notifications from your friends and a couple messages from Jeonghan. You two are certainly friends but he’s not really a casual texter so you’re slightly confused until you notice the images he’d attached.

The first picture is just Seungcheol, a candid of him laughing at something one of the other boys must of done or said. He was always better at taking those aesthetic boyfriend pictures of Cheol than you were, but you like to blame it on the years of practice he had before you even knew either of them. The second picture is obviously from later in the night, and you notice that it was only sent a few minutes ago. There are several empty glasses in front of your boyfriend, and you can spot at least three empty soju bottles, but most notably he is very cutely posing for the camera, a blush dusting his cheeks as he pouts his lips.

You giggle as you reply to Jeonghan with a quick and simple laughing emoji before you place your phone back next to you on the couch and set up for your second movie of the night. You don’t feel a buzz next to you for the entire first act of the film, Jeonghan often not responding unless he has something else to say, but just as the main character is starting to reach the peak of their conflict your phone lights up with a call from your likely very drunk boyfriend.

You answer as soon as the movie is paused, smiling gently as you say, “Hi Cheolie.”

You hear his muffled giggle on the other side of the line before he replies with a drawn out, “Hiiii.”

“What’s up?” you ask, knowing that he must have called you for a reason.

He giggles again, although this time he forgets to cover the microphone and you can hear the tinkle of his laugh as clearly as your phone speaker will allow. His giggles always had the same effect on you, feeling light stream between your ribs as butterflies brush against your stomach. Instantly the rest of the tension you’d been holding in your body seems to melt away, swallowed by the love struck smile your boyfriend has to be wearing on his face based on the way his next few words come out.

“Hmm, I want to tell you something.” He says it lightly and you’re starting to realize how gone he must be. You can faintly hear the muffled sounds of the bar he’d been at for the past several hours but you figure he must have stepped out of the main room, if not all the way outside, because the background sounds don’t cover his words at all. “Can I tell you something?”

“You know you can tell me anything,” you reply quickly, telling the truth even though you’re familiar with the secret he’s about to spill.

Every few months, once your boyfriend has gotten sufficiently inebriated, his memory will seem to fail him and he will forget how far you’d gotten into your relationship. This means that wherever he is, whatever he is doing he will suddenly have a burst of longing for you and will need to “tell you something”. This something is always along the lines of how much he loves you but he will treat this fact, that you already know and had probably heard him tell you at least five times that day alone, as though it’s a new confession. The other boys think it’s funny but you find it adorable that the man you love returns your feelings so strongly that he basically can’t keep them to himself even if he’s not sure you two are even in a relationship.

You hear Seungcheol take a deep breath through the phone before he says, “Okay but it’s really important.”

You chuckle lightly in admiration and try to control your smile as you reply. “Would you rather do it in person?” you ask, never having this happen with him over the phone. Usually this would happen when you were together drinking, so although you’d had a glass of wine earlier you were certainly more sober than you’d been any other time he’d done this.

“No!” he practically shouts in response. “I’m too nervous,” he responds quietly, although his words are slurring together and so you almost don’t hear him.

“Okay,” you say fondly, your own smile no longer able to be fought off by your self control. “I’m listening,” you reassure him as another chuckle slips past your lips.

He takes a pause and you almost wonder if he’s going to not say it. Maybe you misread the situation and he is actually telling you something that you’d rather hear in person. You feel a bubble of doubt form in the bottom of your stomach, itching with nerves as you wait for your boyfriend to stumble through his next words.

As soon as he’s opened his mouth you feel that bubble pop and the itching is replaced with warmth as he, as clearly as he can with all the alcohol running through his system, says, “I love you.” It’s a firm statement, said with the tone of a fact but the way you can practically feel Seungcheol’s tension radiating through the phone almost makes it feel like a question.

“I love you too,” your reply rolling off your tongue as easy as every time you say it to him but never losing any of the tenderness you hold for your lover.

Seungcheol suddenly releases a breath on the other end of the line and you can almost hear his lips stretch into the loving smile he always gives you after hearing those words.

The next few moments are filled with comfortable silence and you’re almost afraid to break it before you ask, “When are you coming home?”

This seems to almost bring him back for a moment as he must be remembering that, not only is this not the first time he’s told you he loves you but, he shares an apartment with you, where he gets to go to bed with you every night and wake up to you every morning. You’re patient as you wait for him to catch up and you almost feel bad for ruining his romantic alcohol related fantasy until he has suddenly come back to reality.

“Right now,” he says with an urgency, and you can hear him open the door that had separated him from the commotion of the main room. “I want to hold you,” he adds as a sort of explanation and you faintly hear the sounds of Jeonghan calling your boyfriend’s name.

“I’m all yours,” you reply with a light giggle, shaking your head as you get up to move to the bed, turning off your forgotten movie and packing your leftovers for the fridge.

“Wow,” he breaths out faintly in disbelief causing you to let out another giggle.

“I love you,” you remind him, partly just to hear him sigh in that lovestruck way he does when he’s in this mood. “I’ll see you soon, baby,” you add and you can hear him drop something or bump into something as all the other boys groan at him and you laugh.

“I love you too, bye,” he says quickly as you can hear the boys starting to hound him about what he’s doing before he hangs up.

As you bring the phone away from your ear you notice how different you feel from when you first got home and even from just before your boyfriend called you. The stress from your day had dissipated almost completely and you almost forgot that you’d originally wanted to spend your night alone. So as you get comfortable in bed, and wait for your sweet Cheol to join you, you make a mental note to allow yourself to enjoy your boyfriend’s healing energy when you might feel like isolating again.

↼ misc masterlist

779 notes · View notes

dotster001 · 7 months

Note

Could i request the twst earth thing except they get isekaid in the reader world? How would they act? Or interact with them? You choose the characters!

Summary: Floyd/Jade/Vil/Rook/Lilia

A/N: we'll just say that each one is a separate universe for simplicity's sake. Special thanks to @irrelevantlight @giuliap17 and @fishisahappydog for choosing the characters for me.

To the anon: your idea is really good! And I'm gonna save it for later to make it it's own post

3k followers masterlist

Hopefully Jade gets isekaid with him. If he is, he will pretend to have a leash on his wild brother. I say pretend, because the moment Floyd sees you, Jade will suddenly stop caring about restraining him, and will decide to explore this world's flora and fauna instead.

Floyd gives zero shits about this world. All he knows is that he can feel you in it, and he has to find you. He'll run the whole way, no matter where he spawns in. He'll sprint towards you, and your poor, human self isn't gonna know what hit you when a wall of man bowls you over.

Stop screaming! He's trying to love you!

If he spawns in with Floyd, half of his time is going to be spent being angry. He knows you're here, but he also has to keep track of his brother who couldn't care less about finding his twins favorite "fictional" character. It's slow progress and it may take him a couple weeks to finally reach you.

Whether he spawns in with Floyd or not, he's going to orchestrate a meet cute between you two. He can't expect you to be thrilled if he swooped in and knew everything about you. So he waits.

One day some asshole accidentally knocks into you, and you nearly fall into the busy street. Luckily two strong arms wrap around your middle and drag you to safety. He asks if you're alright, and insists on taking you for a tea to calm your nerves…and the rest is history.

How interesting….this must be your world! There is no need for him to even process the move. He's traveled many places in his lifetime. This is just a new place to add to his scrapbook!

He also isn't going to rush into a relationship with you. Once he finds you, he's going to make you fall for him. He'll play off his delightful scamp tendencies, and his charming character, and make yu head over heels.

One day you'll confess your feelings for him, and he'll act all surprised. But deep inside he's celebrating another victory for General Lilia, mastermind of the King's army.

You won't even know he's here for a while. He can't be sure if this "move" is permanent or not, so he's going to establish himself. It won't be very hard with his unearthly looks, and winning charisma.

By the time he comes to find you, you'll know who he is. He'll befriend you, and perhaps you'll even confess to him.

And of course he'll say yes. He feels a little bad that he knows everything about you, and you just think he's some random guy who got famous overnight, but it's easier to believe than the truth. Maybe he'll tell you someday. But only if he figures a way back to Twisted Wonderland.

He is in no hurry to find you. Yet. First he wants to explore your environment, figure out how his prey's your environment is so he can understand the survival tactics you use. Once he has those, he can ignore them all.

Now, just because he waited, doesn't mean he's going to do what some of these boys do, and get to know you so you don't freak out.

Nah. What you get is a man in a hat spouting a speech at you about soulmates and true love, and how he can provide for your future life living in a mansion in the woods, with a farm, and ten dogs, and thirteen kids that he just found somewhere….

#twisted wonderland #3k followers #twisted wonderland x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #jade leech #jade leech x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge

582 notes · View notes

godbirdart · 8 months

Note

Looking at your recent commissions, those backgrounds are soo pretty!! Do you have any tips for backgrounds? I always struggle with them :>

aAA many many thanks!!

backgrounds can absolutely be a struggle but they don't have to be! they just require a little more creative planning~!

whether it be a commission or a personal drawing, if I'm building an elaborate art piece i focus on establishing the background First.

the background is the stage for your character! planning the background first will make it easier to tailor the character's actions and how they interact with the environment around them.

planning the background first can be the difference between your character standing awkwardly front and center with the setting going on behind them, or actually participating in their environment.

if i'm super stumped for background ideas, i browse stock image sites to get inspiration. sometimes it helps to doodle on an image to generate some ideas - kinda like you're playing with JPEGs like dolls.

that said - while i'm pinpointing WHAT i want to draw, i keep the ideas loose. i don't want to focus on the itty-bitty details until i've got the overall aesthetic and layout in mind, as i might get inspired to add something in later!

THUMBNAILING

if you're planning a big piece it can be helpful to break it down into something bite-sized before you go all in and start lining or painting. these are "thumbnails" - fast little sketches that establish the scene in a way that doesn't consume a lot of time or effort. it's also great as a little perspective exercise as a treat.

here i decided i want to draw a character walking home in a back alley street. with these photo references in mind, i can plan a layout and how the character will act in the scene. is this a candid shot? are they posing cutely? are they looking down at us in a tense way? there are many ideas to be had!

after you've chosen the layout / vibe for your idea, you can scale up your thumbnail to your preferred canvas size and start fleshing out the details. be sure to keep referring to your reference images to get additional ideas, such as storefronts, items, props etc!

3D MODELS

If you're trying to create a unique environment that photo references simply cannot help you visualize, 3D models exist! This gives you that ability to rotate / scale things for better visualization. Clip Studio has a vast catalogue of 3D models to download For Free that you can fiddle around with. i know there are many 3D builder sites out there as well, though i've never made use of them so i'm afraid i cannot recommend any off the top of my head. hell, you can even use the Sims game to design a setting and go from there!

also if anyone is going to come into my house and say 3D models are cheating: they are not. using a 3D model to better grasp an angle or get a better idea for perspective is not cheating. using 3D models to help plan the environment in your art is not cheating. they are no different than brushes; these are tools made to HELP YOU. use them!

PERSPECTIVE

perspective and angles can make a HUGE difference in the art piece. there's nothing wrong with static long shots! if that's what you want to draw, do it!! there's no right and wrong here!

but if you're finding your work to be a little robotic and stiff, slap an angle in there. consider an overhead view. these same techniques are applied to photography and film! nothing wrong with wide shots, but every once in a while it can help to throw in a dutch angle.

if there is one note i'd like to leave off on, it's that your backgrounds do not have to be 100% accurate-to-life to be Good. unless realism is something you're really striving for in your style, don't feel compelled to nitpick every brick and leaf in your art. us artists can tend to over-prune our work until our art looks a little bare and soulless. flaws can give your work character, and that's often a lot more appealing than how accurate the scale ratio between background building A and building B are [again, unless you WANT to go for that realistic look then you can fuss over those details all you like].

i hope this helped a little! MY APOLOGIES FOR MAKING IT SO LONG AH

#art advice #art tutorials #godbirdart #long post

606 notes · View notes

kalims · 1 year

Text

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "you are the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life—and this is the first time we meet so why do you like me so much?!"

meeting a beautiful exchange student,

summary. rsa and nrc have collaborated to issue an exchange program, whoever got sent to rsa was an unfortunate soul and he was just lucky enough to meet the one that got sent to nrc—the catch is, said student is insanely beautiful.

and, that student seemed particularly fond of him.

characters. overblot gang.

includes. gn reader.

cw. reader is described as beautiful but for the most part I usually don't describe reader, you are beautiful tho <3

note. if you haven't read through who overblots yet it's best to not interact, unless you're perfectly fine with the spoilers of who overblots

also all my breaths turn into coughs and it is very hard to breathe, especially when it's one of those intense ones 😭

favoritism in jamil's part I love it so much go read it all the others are mehh. jamils part >>> for the jamil bbg stan ellie too

riddle rosehearts

out of everyone,, riddle thins between the border of disliking rsa and just respecting them. well, the dislike mostly stems from the fact that it's his school's apparent 'rival' and he's got an ego big enough to get upset by the constant losses nrc dealt with the likes of them.

though if they're friendly enough he won't spare them the saltiness.

but seriously—out of concern for his fellow, why'd they have to send a student from his dorm? he can feel a headache forming because he just knows that particular student would break a few rules in his absence.

at the very least he hopes they won't slack in their academic duties.

so when he turns around, he certainly doesn't expect an unfamiliar face in front of him.

(riddle is proud to say that he knows the faces of his school mates quite well)

let me rephrase,, a very attractive face.

one of the most attractive riddle's ever seen in years and don't get him wrong! it's true that he hasn't thought of romance or anything related to that at all, pardon his languange and all but goddamn.

riddle splutters and he doesn't know whether or not that he did, or that he did because you just smiled. "o-oh um.."

see. if you mixed in riddle rosehearts and shy together most nrc students would have a hard time believing it but he's sure glad that there's not any roaming around the halls right now.

if there was imaginary sparkles around you he definitely sees them. "hello!" a greeting far too enthusiastic for a first meeting and you seem to realize that yourself,, so you clear your throat.

and your next one is like a more tamer version than your first. "hello."

oh god he hates to say it but you're cute.

like... cute cute.

he'd never thought he'd ever use that.. word to describe someone.

your lips trembles, almost like you're excited. "oh my gosh. hi! you're riddle rosehearts aren't you?! I watch the videos of the competitions you're in!" you grin and visibly skip from your standing.

riddle turns red as he nods dumbly.

"oh.. really? um... thanks." he says. clenching his hands together behind his back and he's aware of the awfully stiff, formal posture he has. somehow every insecurity he had just popped out and he's now conscious of them.

for the first time, he worries about his appearance.

is his bow even properly tied?! gods.. he never thought about it but the bow probably made him look unappealing and more girly.

but you look positively flushed, he notes. was it too cold? are you sick? should he hand you his jacket? well.. he is feeling a little warm.. "yes.. you're amazing! and, and—"

riddle didn't even question the sun outside, bright and searing just like his face when he thought of the weather being too cold for you.

cater was just walking around, stopping when he caught sight of the scene in front of him but he just had to take out his phone and snap a picture of the two, red faced people in front of him.

"hehe."

he just hopes that riddle won't ever find out about the picture because if he does.. it's off with his head.

ㅤ

leona kingscholar

frankly leona could care less.

his dislike of rsa students doesn't particularly stem from the rivalry. he doesn't care about that at all but the sparkly, princey attitudes just gets on his nerve. to pair it up with their equally flashy attire? yeah, he's not having it.

he'd rather them stay away from him because if he sees any of them he won't hold back from wrecking them.

well that goddamn crowley just had to pick one of his own didn't he? one of vil's would've fit the bill nicely and a savanaclaw student would stand out like a sore thumb. though he can't nor will he stop said student from picking a few fights.

knowing the attitude of his residents it wouldn't take a long time for them to get sent back.

and as for that rsa student that got exchanged.

he doesn't give a dam—

"hey there."

leona's nose twitches. a [scent] smell filling his nose, a scent he doesn't quite recognize yet it still hits like a pleasant breeze compared to those over the top perfumed pomefiore idiots.

in short this person smells good. not in the way pomefiore does but whoever this is just did.

albeit a little dazed, leona turns his head to the side. meeting with crinkled eyes halfway. he just needed one look at your attire to be able to discern that you're the mysterious exchange student from rsa.

besides the obvious patch in your uniform the rsa students just have a certain feel.

leoma just stares at you.

silently.

the amount of time he spent just oogling like a fool embarrasses him to no end but can you blame him? your face alone would fetch hundreds of admirers.

you blink. "uh.. hello?" you wave a hand in the lion's head. funny how you just casually walked into his den, stuck your palm out into his face and is still in one good piece right now.

perhaps catching himself in the act leona's brow twitches. "what are you looking at?" he huffs.

he eyes you silently. most people would probably start putting on their shitting pants if he displayed them the amount of irritation he showed you.

you? you just smiled.

"me? aren't you the one I should be asking that?" you joke.

well you do have a point but he still rolls his eyes.

leona notes that you seem to have a strange fascination with his swaying tail, unable to keep your eyes off whenever it sways naturally. sometimes he just sways it by will to see if you really are interested but by the quick glance you spare you really are.

he ignores the flush on his face and scowls. it was totally unlike him to be like this by some.. pretty face! "whatever."

"you're leona kingscholar aren't you?! oh god and I'm standing in front of you!" you had to bite your lips to prevent the shit eating grin from fully consuming your face.

yeah? so he was. but why in the hell are you so interested in him..?

you place your hands above your hips. you look like a wannabe boss, leona muses. it's amusingly cute. "aaajasjajas can you please sign an autograph?" you say, scratching your cheek in bash.

leona almost resists the urge to roll his eyes. "autograph? you want somethin' memorable?" like you wanted something from him to keep for life.

you nod enthusiastically. memorable, memorable. wouldn't it be better if he made you memories itself? you know. spending time with him to the fact that you can remember the times vividly.

and wouldn't it better to keep him, all in his glory?

if he outright said that you might just pass out though.

so he'll start with the basics.

"yeah. I'm leona, what about you? what's your name?"

the process always starts with a name don't it? well. the bonding atleast, disgustingly enough. wait why is he even doing this?

ㅤ

azul ashengrotto

azul wonders what kind of magic the exchange student from rsa holds.

it's not ominous or anything. crowley banned him from scamming nrc students but he never said anything about rsa students.

crowley doesn't know it himself but choosing one of the octavinelle students to get sent there works as great benefit for azul. just imagine all the things he could learn.. good thing most residents does what he asks so that one didn't even question when he implied spying for him.

of course he didn't say it outright but beating to the point but his residents seem to be getting used to him.

and he knows that the vil schoenheit would be delighted to indulge in the,, information he'll learn from neige, it's not that hard to tell the grudge the man has for him. he'd be mad too if he got upped that many times but if he said that out loud he'd probably be banned from pomefiore.

maybe rook hunt fits the category more.

oh.. only ursula knows the amount of schemes,, I mean business deals going on inside his head.

apparently he needed to get his head out of the clouds because thinking too much about his totally genius, non-scammy ideas whilst walking around the halls wasn't a good idea at all.

the fact that he collided with someone the moment he turned a corner was enough proof.

you see azul isn't a very strong man. all the power didn't go in his physical build but rather his mental one. he's rather frail compared to all of his fellow dorm leaders, hell.. that purple haired kid that follows vil around is stronger than him!

so the collision actually made him wobble, uncharacteristically taken off guard he stumbled.

pain sears across his back side and he doesn't know whether to groan or feel embarrassed. was anyone watching? he'll die.

all he knows is that someone collided into him.

azul places a carefully practiced smile, closing his eyes to flash the person in front of him a kind tilt of the lips. "how clumsy of me." he says. you are the clumsy one. he stubbornly denies in his mind.

the closed eyes always obstructed his view but that won't make any difference.

except this time it did.

he opens his eyes. "are you—" okay?

what in the name of ursula.

azul immediately shuts his mouth, opens it but once he realizes no words were coming out he shuts it again. he just gapes, with wide eyes and equally wide mouth.

actually wait he isn't okay.

first of all that person in front of him? was drop dead gorgeous and he's a little embarrassed to see that you've already got yourself on your feet and offering a hand while he's still trying to look good.

on the ground.

somehow.

azul turns red and he pursues his lips. there's comical steam floating out of his head, and the vapor had magically fogged up his glasses.

you stare at him gesturing him to take your hand after minutes of silence. azul dusts himself off. "oh.. thank you very much." he clears his throat. "I don't think I've seen you before."

perking up, you reply; "I'm new I guess. the exchange student ring a bell?"

"I see."

he makes a show of opening his mouth then nodding, acting like he didn't know before. it's not hard to miss when the patch of rsa is stitched proudly on your chest area. seems like they modified it for your sake.

azul smiles thinly. "in that case. I'm free right now, why don't I show you around?"

you beam brightly and nod enthusiastically. "oh gods.. thank you so much! I was actually lost, new school and stuff." you laugh. you don't blame yourself at all, this school was huge and your school didn't use mirrors a lot.

people would be suprised about the students preferring to walk because of 'nature' of the main seven heroes it worships preferred to. the students from the mermaid door like to walk despite them usually being clumsy.

though this man did look familiar but you can't place your finger on how.

"my name is azul ashengrotto, I'm a second year. I manage a place called monstro lounge, you could visit if you'd like."

why is he even bringing up monstro lounge so fast? he's totally not trying to impress you.

well it did work.

you raise your brows, your eyes flash in recognition. "azul ashengrotto? oh my gosh. I knew you looked familiar!" you resist the urge to squeal.

he tilts his head.

"you like, host many events in nrc don't you? I loved them so much! the venues are a beautiful sight. don't get me started on your after speeches.. your voice and your suits make me want to faint."

azul holds in his blush by pushing in his lips.

ㅤ

jamil viper

there's still a lot to do. jamil thinks grimly. despite one of their own getting sent to hell itself (aka rsa, hell because it seems like a nightmare to be in there at all) kalim thought it was an omen and decided to throw a celebration commending a new start.

he does get it though. instead of being at each other's throat (one sided) the schools are finally collaborating with less violence than he'd like.

that doesn't mean jamil is fully on board with the idea though, more so that he finds out more workload would only be added to his plate.

man is stressed.

so here he is, voice honestly sore from all the orders and scolds he executed in a single hour. be it blabbering someone to do an order or going off at another for doing it the wrong way. if there was 20 jamil's it'd be done in no time but cloning is a very complex spell he hasn't learned.

yet— but once he does the dorm will not be ready for him.

the boy who issued the party himself is off somewhere inviting more people, which meant this party would be bigger than the resident scarabia exclusive party. since he's inviting people from the other dorms too.

hasn't he invited enough? jamil sighs. he's been giving invitations since yesterday. kalim might as well invite the whole school.

he doubts that he's entirely off the truth.

how in the hell he's gonna fit them all if he does into the dorm is anybody's guess. jamil is not a fan of packed places.

actually he isn't a fan of parties at all.

it would've been better to deal with if kalim announced the party weeks prior! not literally a day before it! yesterday was the absolute worst day of his month and there's like ten of those every month.

so imagine his stress when the guests already started piling in when he hasn't even finished the last snacks for the table.

he knew he should have contacted trey because baking muffins straight out of a tutorial is definitely not ideal at all.

to be fair he doesn't make them a lot and the last time he did was so long ago that he needed to search it up on how to make it.

kalim would've been perfectly fine if he left out he muffins off the menu but jamil doesn't wanna take any chances.

I don't think they're supposed to look like that. jamil wipes off the sweat on his forehead silently. staring at the definitely undercooked muffin barely even poofed up to eat

the door creaks open and jamil doesn't spare it a glance. finally some help. "can you hand me another batch of the batter? I messed up." he glances at the clock. well there's still time and the guests outside were grateful enough to dig in on the other variety of food.

jamil stretches out his hand after he finishes setting up another tray. though the voice that he has not heard before has him freezing.

he doesn't even move when the weight of the presumed batter is gently put on his outstretched hand.

"oops.. yeah that definitely looks horrible not gonna lie."

I can see that. jamil blankly thinks, turning his head to silently analyze the person beside him. one of the people kalim invited definitely, the boy would give an invitation to a person he doesn't know.

you just stare back calmly.

but wow. you have pretty eyes. jamil clears his throat. he grips the plastic of the batter and focuses on pouring the right amount into the cups. if he keeps staring it'd be rude and he isn't sure if he wouldn't stay distracted.

while pouring in the consistency he speaks; "I don't think we've met but thanks." he says, you smile in response. looking apologetic.

"sorry for barging in. kalim told me that you were here."

jamil blinks and his hold falters. a pretty person looking for me?

what.

"oh. that's strange. why would you look for me?"

perhaps he's a little suspicious.

"I couldn't help myself. I just had to meet the chef—" you pause and look over his work. "—and baker. themselves."

you seem oddly invested in him just placing the dough in the cups. he feels kind of pressured and dare I say shy in this amount of attention.. "why's that?"

wait he should probably tone it down. he's making it seem like he's interrogating every choice you just made.

though you don't seem to mind. your eyes almost look like they sparkle and they look prettier to him. "the food was unlike anything I've ever eaten! I've met five star chefs and none could ever compare. it was like the taste of home." you sigh dreamily.

jamil clears his throat and he's glad that his hair is over his shoulder so you wouldn't see the flush on his face.

it's nice to be appreciated and you don't seem like you preferred kalim over him.

jamil thinks. fuck it. "well. how would you like me to teach you over?" maybe he was being way too forward. it was uncharacteristic of him to be like this but can you blame him?

it's like your beauty was enchanted with some spell that completely lured him in.

he leans away and it felt like just a few seconds when you were both talking, the cups full of batter speaks for itself. jamil brings it to the oven and sets the timer.

your voice echoes in his mind. "I'd love that. let me know when you're free, I don't wanna impose when you're busy."

he frowns. he is busy tomorrow, the day after tomorrow and the day after that. maybe this will be a test for his patience.

you notice the frown on his face but still manage to laugh. "by the look on your face I'm guessing you're not? well that's fine. want to exchange numbers so we can talk when you are?"

he isn't sure if this was just a ploy to get his number but damn. you are one smooth, beautiful one. he nods, still a little dejected from his full schedule.

"jamil is free tomorrow!" the male in question doesn't know when or how kalim got in without the two of you noticing but he just did.

for once he's kind of glad for the boy even he's a headache most of the time.

you raise your brows and look between the two having a staredown. "that so?"

jamil turns to you and shrugs. "I guess so."

there's a trace of a faint smile on his face.

ㅤ

vil schoenheit

it's strange.

vil heard from a little birdie, aka our resident rook hunt that the exchange student from rsa was chosen to reside in pomefiore out of every dorm, what was crowley thinking? as if sending one of vil's own into the devil's den wasn't enough

and only the students chosen by the mirror should be able to stay in pomefiore's castle.

so you can say that he's a little irked.

especially thinking of the possibility that the student could be acquaintances with neige, if they are then it's a game over. he might be being a little bitter about it but can you blame him? it drives him crazy.

rook might not mind, maybe epel too. but he can't say the same for himself and the other residents of his dorm.

vil isn't usually someone to listen in gossip but it was too interesting to just pass by the room with a door that was just conveniently creaked open.

"—I'm telling you! it's blasphemy. they didn't even bat an eye when I suggested them to use the right products!"

vil doesn't gaze inside the room, rather keeping his eyes ahead.

"hmph. the audacity. our advice would be worth thousands! did you see the eye they gave us? someone like me shouldn't receive such a gaze." the other one huffs.

sometimes his own residents could be way too feeling royalty. vil sighs, even he is a little appalled on how they act.

'right products?' he doesn't really agree. there isn't a right or wrong to which products one use, except is said product is actually really bad for the skin.

the lights of pomefiore dim compared to when it's morning. those were operated to immediately lower brightness in the night anyways. still, vil's favorite time is when it's quiet, serene and beautiful.

and there was a spot in the gardens for himself only.

but there was someone in here.

"those are apricots." vil points out. crossing his arms to carefully survey the supposed intruder, when he said that he knew each and every one of the faces in his dorm. he was being serious. and from a gaze alone from them gives him the conclusion that this is someone new.

perhaps a student who started late? but then again even if it was just one or a few more students for submission the dorm leaders would've still been summoned to witness the ceremony first hand.

the figure in front of him freezes. finger twitching before retreating in hesitance, completely discarding their previous action to reach out and touch the flower. most probably embarrassed to be seen trying such a thing.

"yes. it's a symbol of elegance. quite fitting for your dorm." they speak out slowly.

maybe he hasn't counted in his and your own reflection in the glass window but you sure do and you can feel your heart racing from the familiar features he has. sure, it's a little different from the ones you're used to. the ones where you weren't granted the honor to stand so close.

but he was still very beautiful. inside and out.

vil's eyes glint in recognition. "hm."

there's a quiet moment of silence. not necessarily uncomfortable but not that comforting either.

you open your mouth, close it once more but thankfully you've gathered enough words to speak out. "i, uhm.. the student from rsa." you say.

you're quite perspective. vil notes. he didn't even see your face yet you know it from his tone alone.

but.

oh. he thinks with a blank stare. who would've guessed? all the pieces fall together perfectly but he hoped you were anything but that. the title is something he started associating with you the moment you said it. all the bad things are sticking to you now and he doesn't like it.

neige, rsa... he closes his eyes and turns to retreat back to his abode. hoping to walk away before he starts to resent you.

the fire within vil grows a little harder.

"hey. I just wanted to say."

he pauses. vil imagines you looking his way, face shown, no longer hiding your identity yet he doesn't dare to look back.

you avert your eyes to the floor and are practically swimming in embarrassment. should you be blessed with the sight of your eternal love in nightwear? anyways..

"you probably heard this a lot of times already but omgiloveyousomuch wait that sounds creepy sorry uh.. I really liked your first movie!" you unconsciously rant and close your eyes, giggling then pausing when you catch yourself in 4k.

indeed it's something vil's heard a lot of times but from an rsa student? well that's something new.

congratulations you've officially peaked his interest. "my.. first movie..?" vil inhales a sharp breath. he didn't think anyone would remember that! he literally payed the director mounts of cash to erase that one from existence!

you nod. "yes.. I'm guessing you were new around there but your acting was just so raw that I had to rewatch it a hundred of times." maybe the hundred times were an exaggeration but plenty enough to stand near the truth. "ever since I've looked up to you."

vil stays silent.

you sweatdrop. "sorry that was weird. but I'm really happy I got to tell you in person. don't worry! I'll be out of your hair and you won't see me ever again."

that's right. this is something he can forget easily. he just has to keep looking forward and he won't see you at all, he won't ever know who told him the kindest, genuine words he's ever heard ever.

he looks back and you hold your breath.

wow. he was beautiful.

his eyes skim through you in the most judgemental way you've seen but do you care? no. eye contact with vil.. you're suprised you haven't passed out yet.

"beautiful."

you nod in a frenzy, thinking he was referring to himself.

you are beautiful. vil thinks. just before he hasn't even taken a look at you and he thought the exact same thing.

he smiles. "it's nice to have someone who understands flower languange."

either you were absolutely flabbergasted, all you can do was nod and agree to nearly all he said when he stayed for a few and talked with you.

ㅤ

idia shroud

idia is feeling particularly antsy today.

he doesn’t know when, why, what, or how he agreed yesterday midnight to a meet up with his currently closest online friend. idia knows full well of the risks, is he gonna meet a ten year old or a sixty one year old?

well the meet up had him so distracted that he barely even paid attention to crowley's announcement. only making out an exchange program from it.

there's far bigger things he worries about,, like the fact that he's having an inner crisis because of the situation!

and the fact that his friend unconsciously sent an ominous message.. 'I'm closer than you think' what does that even mean?!

and he doesn't know what went through their head when they said to meet him in the botanical garden of nrc. like.. there was no way the barrier would even let them step foot in the nrc grounds!

still, no matter how bizarre it sounded he still went.

idia sticks out like a sore thumb in the valley of green with his flaming hair, standing there with a console at hand to keep himself distracted.

he got a lot of weird looks. seriously? the barely seen dorm leader of the mysterious ignihyde in such a place? what's new though honestly.

idia waits and waits, till he just slumps and curses himself for believing such a thing. there was no way you'd even be able to—

"ghoul666?" a voice chuckles. and... that was his username! it must be..

"(username)?!?!" idia nearly screeched out loud. turning around frantically but stopping short when he catches sight of you.

oh my god... are you an s-rank deity?!

you smile. "hi! you can call me (name).. it's a little weird to hear that in real life." you shrug and idia still can't pick up the jaw that's practically on the floor.

you watch in amusement as his hair flares and turns pink.

"why,, h-how.. what?!" idia splutters out.

"I'm the exchange student from rsa. isn't it fate that we meet like this?"

oh.

well actually he didn't exactly listen to crowley so.

who knew his literal online best friend was so awe-striking? he feels like a pebble next to them.

if he could have stats in his eyes he would but strangely enough it seemed like you would too.

you scratch your cheek. the atmosphere is kinda awkward. "it's so nice to meet you in person! one day I hope I can solo a boss with 1 hp too.."

idia flushes once again. nearly half of his hair is now encased in pink. "i-i could show you how I do it... not that you'd ever want to hang out with me.." he trails off.

you shake the remark off. "that's not true! let's go right now! uh.. if you want."

here we have two people completely enamored with the other.

clarifications.

in riddle's part, the competition refers to equestrian.

the positively flushed isn't a reference to a red face, but since riddle thought you were being sick maybe he thought it was. I'd rather call it shy behavior.

idia's part was rushed.

its exactly 40 minutes before 12 PM

2K notes · View notes

theanimeoftheblackbunnymask · 1 month

Text

Gojo and Geto College AU Imagine

Author's note: Trying to get used to writing for these characters again.

Warnings: Intoxication, Rape Implied, Blackmail, Yandereish Behavior, Corecion, Peer Pressure, and Gojo and Geto being assholes.

Imagine Gojo and Geto being the biggest manwhores in school.

Like, they're popular because they're in sports, in a frat, and extremely good looking, but they've pretty much fucked the entire cheer and volleyball team.

You knew better than to interact with them. Anyone who dated them rarely lasted a month, so why would you even bother.

Well, that was the case until last year. Your school was paying students to help with tutoring and you needed some extra cash, so you applied. But, much to your suprise, and horror, Gojo fucking Satoru was sitting at your fucking table. You pretty much wanted to walk out right then and there. You didn't want to admit it, but you've had a major crush on the duo for years, but you were doing everything you could to not get heart broken.

But, Gojo could sense you liked him. He could tell from the look in your eyes. So, anytime he'd get the chance, he'd tease you like crazy. Whispering in your ear, sitting extremely close to you, ghosting his hand over your arm, and so on. You're reactions were the cutest thing! You'd flinch in suprise whenever he touched your shoulder, your stuttering after he made a perverted joke, and your flustered face. Ugh, they were all just so fuckibg cute.

But, you were a no life. Had a few close friends, but you were far from entering the popular crowd.

Howver, that didn't matter to them. So, one day Gojo invites you to a frat party with him and Geto, and you wanted to refuse, having an off feeling about the whole ordeal, but the idea of getting into the spotlight and Gojo's manipulation, you agree to go.

The party was first time you ever met Geto, and he was a lot hotter up close than you thought. Unlike Gojo, Geto was a real charmer. He'd often compliment your outfit, and also comment about really unnoticeable details about your hair or your outfit.

After an hour into the party, Gojo comments on wanting to get some drinks. You weren't too sure about it, never having alcohol before, but the two men persisted.

After a few drinks, your mind started to become foggy and your memory became patchy. One minute you downing a shot, and the next moment, your head on Gojo's lap as Geto's head rested between your legs.

"Shhhh, it's ok princess/prince, we'll be gentle."

After those words left Geto's mouth, you felt your body curl up, but that's where your memory ends.

The next day, you woke up in your dorm, PJ'S on and everything, but you still had a rough idea of what happened. When it came to tutoring Gojo that day, you were quiet and barely bothered when reacting to him playful teases.

This went on for a week, but after a week, Gojo and Geto cornered you while on the way to class.

When you told them to leave you alone, you felt your body freeze as they showed you the pictures they took of you.

"If you don't want these getting out, let's make deal," Gojo said, scrolling through each and every picture.

"What is it?" You asked, voice cracking as your hands shook.

"If you let us fuck you, these will stay nice and safe on Satoru's phone, but, if not, the entire school will get to see what you were up to last week," Geto stated, leaning down to your level as he spoke. "Internship opportunities, Gone. Job opportunities, gone. No one would wanna hire a whore."

You were scared to say the least. Have your life ruined in a single clip, or swallow your dignity and give your body up to two popular assholes?

"...Ok."

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo x reader #gojo saturo x reader #gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #yandere getou #geto x you #geto suguru x you

192 notes · View notes

wheneclipsefalls · 7 months

Note

Obsessed with your writing! Especially the sully brothers x reader relationship!! If you're taking requests, I would love to see possibly something along the lines of lo'ak being slightly more jealous and possessive even when it comes to his brother, so maybe reader x neteyam are being very fluff and cute alone and it starts to get hot and heavy, and even though they know lo'ak would be jealous Neteyam just can't help himself 😩 just as neteyam and reader are finished and cleaning up lo'ak catches them and gets soo pouty and jealous and reader is soo apologetic and makes it up to him with his own special alone time asgdgdhdhfjfkf 👀🙏🏻

Masterlist AO3

Pairing: Neteyam (23) x Metkayina Fem Reader x Lo'ak (22)

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), explicit MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v, aged up characters, established relationship, polyamory, dom Lo'ak, dom Neteyam, squirting, sub reader, power imbalance, jealousy, sibling rivalry, dirty talk, semi public sex.

A/N: Thank you to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun exploring a softer side to these three's dynamic. Also, thanks for being so patient <3

“You’re going to hurt your eyes staring at the sun like that, baby girl.” Neteyam warns you. Still, your gaze is locked to the horizon. The water is calm and clear, only the occasional canoe or ilu and rider surfacing. Nothing showing the shape of what you truly desire to see.

“Yawne.” Neteyam tries again, finally breaking your focus away from the pulsing water. Looking up from your place in the sand, it’s easy to see the fond amusement in Neteyam’s golden eyes. “He won’t be back until tomorrow.”

You huff and turn away from him.

“I know that.” Your efforts to remain nonchalant are unsuccessful with the eldest brother. A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest before you feel his shadow encapsulating your form. He leans directly over your sitting form till his playful eyes meet yours directly, blocking the view of the ocean. Neteyam’s tight braids dangle and sway upside down with the ocean breeze carrying them along.

“Then why do you keep looking for boats?” A hairless eyebrow raises back at you and it becomes hard to hide your pout.

It seems that your attempts at spotting the hunting party were not as subtle as originally imagined. Then again you figure nothing concerning you and the brothers is ever subtle. It’s been five days since Lo’ak left with the hunting party out past the reef. It’s the longest the two of you have been apart since mating. Sure there were times when one or both of the brothers were needed in these groups, setting out across the waves to gather greater supplies for the clan, but that had been when you were teenagers.

Back then you could not verbally call them as yours. Even on those occasions you had been worried and anxious for their return, but those were thoughts that had to be kept to yourself. You can still remember Lo’ak’s smirk the first time you had bounded into his arms after he had been away on a three day journey. He was pleasantly surprised but wasted no time in pressing your body closer to his. Pulling away with inflamed cheeks, you could see the obvious pride that glimmered across his features.

It was clear he knew of your little crush.

Now, having been mated to both brothers for several months, you are acclimated to their presence. You are fortunate enough to wake up with at least one of the Sully boy’s wrapped around you. Each night you fall asleep pressed between them, a game of footsy inevitably taking place throughout the night. Even with each of your busy schedules and responsibilities you seem to always find time to spend with them frequently.

“You’re imagining things.” You insist, trying to look past his curtain of braids.

Neteyam audibly laughs at this. He straightens up before plopping down beside you. Strong arms wrap around your middle and easily manhandle you to sit between his legs. It feels natural to melt back against his warm chest, Neteyam tucking your head beneath his chin.

“My poor yawne, not getting enough attention with only one male to satisfy her.” Neteyam teases and you instantly slap his thigh in reprimand. It’s light and harmless, only there for show of your retribution.

“Don’t say that.” A pout begins to form across your heart shaped lips. Thankfully Neteyam is unable to see it properly with you facing forwards. Still, he seems to sense it all the same, his cooing and amused chuckles not seizing for a moment.

Bent legs cage you in from each side, but the loose embrace is comforting to say the least. It doesn’t calm the storm of emotions and longing that plagues your brain, but the tension in your muscles begins to unravel into a more relaxed posture. Calloused hands dance across your shoulders and sides. The warmth of his hands seem to spread across your skin, subconsciously bringing a blush to your cheeks.

Finally, they settle to knead and work at the knots in your shoulders. Neteyam is an expert at scaring away any forms of physical stress with those skilled hands. His strong grip formed over years of wielding a bow and carrying heavy canoes onto shore, proves to be efficient in digging into the deep muscle that is usually coiled tightly. You have to suppress a moan from escaping your lips.

“He will be alright.”

Your eyes flicker open, unsure of when they closed in the first place.

“Yeah…I know.” You live under no delusion that those words came out confident. Were it not for Neteyam’s great intuition and vast knowledge of your reactions, it’s clear he would still be able to decipher your mood. You’ve always been known for wearing your heart out on your sleeve. It’s a characteristic that can lead to deeper talks and understanding but also the same one that puts you into moods that end with you over one of the Sully brother’s knees.

“Our sweet syulang, always concerned for her forest boys.” Neteyam coos, nuzzling into the back of your neck. The action starts to surface small giggles from your lips, tickling at the sensitive skin. Your sharp teeth gnaw into your bottom lip to try and keep them at bay, but it is already building into full blown laughter. This only spurs Neteyam onward, brushing your thick hair aside so he has better access to your neck.

“Stop!” The pleas for mercy sound anything but intimidating with your radiating laughter sinking into every phrase. Before you know it, his legs have come over yours to keep you trapped while his fingers tickle into the soft flesh of your sides.

You’ve always been ticklish, a fact that both brothers delight in and use to their advantage. Lo’ak was originally the first one to discover it and he had been relentless for the weeks following. Any chance he had to keep you pinned underneath him with desperate laughter erupting from you, he took. It came to the point where you were asking Jake for maneuvers that would get the male off of you.

“Neteyam! M-mercy!”

“Not till you admit how worried you are.” Neteyam insists. At this point you are squirming and frantically trying to kick his legs off of yours for relief. Unsurprisingly, you are unsuccessful with that heavy toned muscle clamping you in place. “Baby girl can’t handle Lo’ak being gone for a few days.” Neteyam teases.

It’s funny how after all this time, hearing the words out loud still makes you blush. You’ve done unspeakable things with these men, gave your body and soul to them and received the same in return, but there is still something about admitting your dependence on them that makes your ears heat up in embarrassment.

“Fine! Fine! I’m a little worried, you skxawng. N-now let me go!” Intermittent hiccups cut your sentences into jambled pieces but luckily Neteyam finally yields. Your lungs struggle to inflate and exhale air quickly, heart beating against your ribcage. The eldest Sully lets you lean back against him once more as he peppers soft kisses along your cheek and temple. You can feel the curve of his lips against your skin.

Arrogant Skxawng.

“Lo’ak will be back before you know it.”

You solemnly nod in response. Neteyam is right, but five days already feels like too much. It’s strange not having his snide remarks and devilish grin interrupting your day periodically. In many ways the brothers are like fire and ice. They have parts of their personalities that oppose one another and yet it feels unbalanced to only have one element without the other. There are moments where you admittedly enjoy spending one on one time with them, but things usually only escalate sexually in these scenarios if they’re quickies. Just simple moments where the heat of passion lures both of you into going further than anticipated.

Although you prefer not to verbally admit it, part of this has to do with Lo’ak’s tendencies. Neteyam isn’t easily bothered by being left out. He’s too busy and sensible to monitor things as inevitable as that. The eldest brother only comes to heated anger when seeing other Na’vi males closing in on you.

Lo’ak on the other hand, is a bit more sensitive to the exclusion. You blame it on the older-younger brother complex that they have grown up in. Neteyam has always been the golden child, spearheading the path for his siblings to follow while Lo’ak spent many of his adolescent years feeling like an outcast. In his eyes, Neteyam was the one that received all the praise and accomplished each milestone perfectly while he was seen as lesser than. It’s been years of healing and growing up, but a shred of those insecurities still lie beneath, no matter how much he denies it. Lo’ak is possessive of what belongs to him, perhaps afraid it could be taken away within an instant.

You consider it a miracle that the two agreed to this special relationship in the first place. Still, that possessive behavior has a way of bubbling to the surface every now and then.

“Five days is already a long time.” You mumble as Neteyam’s calloused fingertips trail to the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. It lights a flame there, sparkling along your veins into simple tendrils of pleasure. Five days is a long time, especially when you’ve gotten zero sexual relief within that span.

“You think you can make do with silly old me for one more day?” Pointed teeth briefly nip at your twitching ears.

Your lips part to throw back some witty response, but the sensation of long fingers reaching underneath the waistband of your loincloth, makes your mind go blank. It’s borderline humiliating how affected you are by such simple touches, but you’ve been on the edge for days now. Neteyam has been doting and affectionate as always but your nights end with innocent cuddling. Only now can you feel the evidence of his own sexual frustration poking your back.

“Please don’t tease, Nete.” You rangle out a response as the tip of his pointer barely brushes your unparted folds. Going without sex for almost a week is one thing, but you have little hope of surviving it with the mix of Neteyam’s teasing.

“Why not?” He whispers, but those pointer fingers parts your petals and begins to rub delicately at your sensitive nub. Neteyam peeks his head around your shoulder once more. You obediently crane your neck to face him. His lips are soft and patient against your own, a different tune than the passionate one you are used to.

“Miss you.” The words are barely more than a mumble against his lips. Pressing his nose against yours he breaks the kiss and smiles down at you.

“Oh now you miss me too?” The tips of those sharp canines poke out in the smile. “How can you miss me when I’m right here, pretty girl?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him. There is no desire to kick up a bratty attitude right now, not when your instincts tell you that Neteyam is willing to reward you for good behavior. Instead, your lashes flutter closed and you give him the most innocent and endearing peck on the lips you can manage.

“You know what I mean, Nete.” His hands recede from your core and gently trace a path up to your hips. “Please?”

The hold on your hips becomes a harsh grip, one that is used to flip you around. Finally facing him you waste no time in straddling his lap. Desperate lips attach once more and you can feel his impressive member rock hard and grinding up against you through the fabric.

Lo’ak on his best days tries to keep his composure, forcing himself to walk back to the shared hut and into your arms instead of tumbling the way he would like to. Today, however, back early from the expedition, he can’t hide his excitement. A few drops of sweat trail down the back of his neck as he helps the others reign in the large net under the beating sun. The younger Sully brother ignores the aches of his muscles and continues to work as fast as possible.

Occasionally his gold orbs snap up to survey the perimeter in search of your form. For once he is relieved to not see you there. This way he can surprise you. Images of your soft body beneath him already fill his brain to the brim. Sleeping side by side with other Metkayina horny men is extremely disappointing in comparison to spooning you from behind as his cum leaks out of your tight pussy.

From the corner of his eye, Lo’ak spots Ao’nung rolling his eyes. He ignores the look, confident that it only comes out of jealousy. Spirit far from being put down, Lo’ak rangles the net together quickly until he is finally dismissed.

Hooks hanging from the netted loincloth clank together as he nearly sprints across the woven pathways of the village. The first place he looks is the marui, naturally, but neither you nor Neteyam are anywhere to be seen. He vaguely remembers the south beach being your favorite place to spend time after a long day of working so he beelines to the other side of the village. His only rest stop is one forced by Jake, who spots him and goes to welcome his son home. Lo’ak gives his father a nod of his head and a rushed explanation before getting back on course.

It isn't until he makes it past the thick cluster of mangrove trees that his ears twitch, catching the sound of distant moans. His first instinct tells him to turn away, leaving the anonymous couple to have their fun, but then there is a distinct whimper that he could recognize anywhere. Lo’ak takes heed to not rustle the fallen greenery loudly as he prowls forward toward the source of the sound.

And that is where he finds you backed up against a palm tree, his older brother balls deep inside you.

“C-close!” Your eyes are squinted shut, the familiar look of ecstasy painted across your delicate features.

“That’s it, baby girl. Give me another one.” Neteyam adjusts your trembling legs that are wrapped around his waist so he can change the angle slightly. This shift has a new onslaught of moans freely falling from your lips.

“C-can’t!” You whine, dropping your head to rest on his shoulder.

Careful to remain silent, Lo’ak studies your form. Your sweet body that has been haunting his dreams for the past five days. However, it’s his own back that he imagines your nails digging into while getting fucked, not his brother’s.

“Don’t be stubborn, baby.” Neteyam grunts, hip rocking upwards at breakneck speed. “I know you can.”

What tips you over the edge though is not encouraging words or the squeezing of those large hands around the plump of your ass, it’s the moment where Neteyam swings his queue over his shoulder and allows your dancing tendrils to intertwine.

“Nete!” Your screech almost drowns out his own feral moan. He curses under his breath.

“Great Mother!” Neteyam groans, and from Lo’ak’s hidden spot in the bushes, even he can infer it's from the way you are clamping down around him. “I love you so much, baby girl!”

“L-love you, Nete.” Lo’ak has to concentrate on the sound to make out your strangled words.

He’s done watching the scene unfold before him. Listening to his brother’s groans he knows how this ends and he has no interest in waiting around to be discovered afterwards. Suddenly, his excitement has dimmed to that of a lonely dread.

Careful to not be seen or heard, he traces his trail back through the array of trees until he can no longer hear the two of you. Lo’ak sets off to distract himself from the lewd scene he had discovered. Truth be told, he had seen and participated in moments like that with the two of you many times. The brothers were used to sharing sexual intimacy with you, but that wasn’t what made his heart clench.

It’s the soft and tender intimacy in that moment that spurs dark feelings inside of him. To see such a sweet scene of love and devotion, all while he has been away. The lurking voice in the back of his head whispers creeping thoughts of not being needed. Perhaps you are not only able to manage but also more content without him there.

Lo’ak knows better than to heed this tempting voice in his head. He knows he has a tendency towards letting these outcast feelings sink in. However, just because he doesn’t let himself believe such sad things, does not mean he is thrilled to see how well the two of you get along without him.

Reluctantly, Lo’ak makes his way back to the Sully residence. Surely at least Tuk will be happy to see him.

“Hold still!” Tuk hisses, yanking on the small braid in retaliation. Lo’ak winces, always surprised by the increasing strength of his now teenage sister.

“Yes ma’am.” He mutters under his breath, but Tuk rewards the comment with a slap to the head regardless. Only five minutes of lacing the new shells through his hair and Lo’ak is already itching to find a way out. He sours at the idea now of waiting for you to realize he is home. Neteyam or not, Lo’ak is anxious to see you.

Tuk giggles in delight as the last of the shell carved beads are finally positioned properly in his hair. She beams proudly at the handy work. It’s clear that she requires no outside approval to know she has done a fantastic job. Of course, he knows it’s expected regardless.

It’s in the middle of giving these compliments that he is knocked to the ground by your charging figure. The two of you fall back in a tangle of limbs as you squeeze him tightly. Finally, out of the dazed surprise, he wraps his arms around your waist. Quick kisses are peppered along his cheeks and nose rapidly before they finally reach his lips.

“You’re back!” Your voice radiates energy and sunshine, but Lo’ak can still hear the echoing of moaned devotions you had been spewing for his brother moments earlier. From the sidelines, Tuk wrinkles her nose at the sight of you two, but even pinned underneath you Lo’ak does not miss the twitchings of a smile on her lips.

“How long have you been back? How dare you not come find me?!” You complain as Lo’ak finally manages to sit the two of you up. Your fingers quickly find the newly beaded braids that hang over his eyes. You grin while fondly twisting the braids between the pads of your fingers.

“I did, but you seemed a little…preoccupied.”

Your smile drops and for the first time, Lo’ak makes eye contact with his brother that is casually leaning against the entryway.

“Oh.” It’s all you can think of to mutter.

“Tuk’s been waiting forever to get those beads in your hair. Surely that must have some priority.” Neteyam quickly cuts in, ruffling her braids messily. The distraction is enough to disrupt what was sure to be an awkward silence between the three of you. Neteyam focuses his energies on maintaining his younger sister’s innocence.

“Naturally.” Lo’ak agrees, eyes never meeting your own.

Neteyam is already set to work, distracting Tuk with inquiries of getting new beads for his own hair. Luckily she takes the bait eagerly, letting you and Lo’ak steam in your own cloud of tension.

“Lo’ak I…I’m sorry, we didn’t kno-”

“No worries.” He swiftly replies while simultaneously lifting you off of his lap. “We should head out before the hunting party devours the rest of dinner. Trust me, they’re desperate for anything besides boiled fish eggs.”

He’s standing and trailing out of the marui with Tuk before you have a moment to protest. Neteyam lets out a heavy sigh, offering you a sympathetic smile and hand to help you up.

The rest of the night doesn’t proceed in much better of a fashion. Lo’ak doesn’t outright ignore you, returning tender touches and responding to questions, but you can feel the reservation holding him back. He doesn’t jump to tell outlandish stories like usual. The younger Sully allows the other members of the party to take the reins of the conversation, only hopping in to aid when specifically called upon.

That night with the three of you back in Neteyam’s marui, the tension is palpable. You try to fill the air with fun stories and comments about how much Lo’ak was missed but neither brother does more than nod and occasionally pass out a one syllable answer. Neteyam affectionately lays a hand on Lo’ak’s head while the younger brother is putting away the fishing supplies, but his arm is brashly swatted away. It’s not an uncommon interaction between the two, something they’ve been known to do since they were teenagers, but there is an added sharpness to Lo’ak’s recoil.

Neteyam’s eyes cut to you, visibly rolling his eyes to show how unnecessarily his brother is being. You give him a reprimanding look, motioning for him to be nice. His attitude doesn’t shift much at the request but he does manage to give his younger brother some space for the rest of the night. A fact that you are grateful for, originally worried that you were about to witness another one of the Sully brothers’ brawls.

As the years have passed and maturity has settled upon each of them, they’ve come to be more respectful of one another. It’s that fact alone that allows this three way relationship to work in the first place, but there are times where the sibling rivalry still peeks out. Times where Neteyam finds Lo’ak dramatic and Lo’ak can see nothing but the golden child that has everyone wrapped around his finger.

Naturally you’ve jumped in several times to mediate the interactions, but you have also come to learn that sometimes they need to be left alone to fight it out. Chances are they are back to being friends again in the morning with nothing more than a few bruises to show from their argument.

Unfortunately, Neteyam seems to decide that keeping some space from you too would help wash away the memory of the scene Lo’ak walked in on. The bed is cold, trapped between the two of them while they both face away from you. A pout sits heavy on your lips as you toss and turn all night. Lo’ak doesn’t move away when you come to spoon his larger form from behind, but it’s still not how you imagined spending the night of his return.

The next morning when you wake with only Neteyam by your side, you decide that enough is enough. You refuse to let another day pass with this hot and cold tension between the two of you.

The village is still awakening, with the orange glow of daylight barely breaking the horizon, only a few early morning stragglers flit along the bouncy pathways. Most are in a rush to get out into the open ocean and make some morning kills. Lo’ak doesn’t have patrol or assignment with the hunting parties today, so it takes some effort to figure out where he has run off to. Luckily, you can recognize the muttered curses in the Sky People language that falls from his lips.

“Damnit!”

The sound comes from underneath the walkway and you know that you are bound to find either your lover or Jake Sully. It’s endearing to see how much of his father’s lingo Lo’ak has committed to his own vocabulary. It’s still a struggle and annoyance to try and decipher what each word means but you’ve started to pick up on the feeling behind the most crude ones.

Flitting across the woven floor you follow the distant muttering accented with the swish of water beneath your feet. It takes you to the edge of the village where you finally hang over the walkway to spot Lo’ak wrestling with something underwater. Laying your body down to peer over the edge, your curly hair falls forward till the ends become dampened by the water’s surface. It takes a few seconds to realize that he is currently wrestling with a tangled net around the base of a support tree.

Even from the distortion from the ocean water, you are able to make out his impressive physique and flexing biceps that yank on the sturdy wire. When he breaks through the water’s top once more for a breath and another round of curses, you allow yourself the luxury of porusing every inch of his majestic body with your eyes. He wears one of your favorite loincloths on him, a laced garment of mangrove leaves dyed a royal shade of purple. It’s a very traditional Metkayina attire only further complimented by his dark inked tattoos and shells swinging from his signature braids.

Today, however, his beautiful dark braids are fashioned into a top knot, showing off his bared neck and shoulders sinfully. A part of you wonders if he chose his attire this morning simply to punish you for yesterday, Lo’ak is no stranger to your preferences and he has been known in the past for using them to his designs. Regardless of intention, it would be a lie to say it isn’t working as you oggle at the shifting muscles along his back while he pulls at the net violently.

The years have been oh so kind to Lo’ak as he has grown into an accomplished male and warrior. The once slim beanpole of a body that you remember him coming to the island with (although even then you were quite infatuated with his appearance entirely) has shaped into a stronger Metkayina build while still maintaining certain Omatikaya physical traits. His shoulders had spanned out to create a surface broad enough for easily harboring canoes and nets full of gain. Even his thighs had become sturdy and encapsulated with smooth muscle. Somehow, however, that form still found ways to narrow into the slim waists known as a forest person trade mark.

It has always driven you to the point of insanity, how well the brothers took the best of each culture and mixed it into your personal heaven.

“Come on!” He grits out between bared teeth, starting to use his weight as a force against the trapped net.

“Fucking Damnit!” He exclaims, starting to wrap the net around his flexed forearm.

“Fuckeng damitt” Your attempt to mimic his words come out rushed and confident but with the clear overshadow of a thick accent. It makes his head finally spin in your direction, startled expression shaping into that of recognition.

“Don’t let Neteyam catch you using that language, yawne.” He warns you halfheartedly, already back to tangling with the destroyed net.

For some strange reason Neteyam has always been more sensitive to your use of obscene Sky People language than anything Na’vi curse related. Something about those fowl words being too dirty for such pretty lips. It’s half the reason you still struggle to understand the meaning behind these thrown English curse words. Still, it’s always an effective way to get either of the brother’s attention.

“What does it mean?”

“Nothing really, yawne. Just don’t use it.”

Your clear pout is wasted on his dismissive attitude, still facing away from you as he puts his sole focus on undoing the stubborn net. The blood is already rushing to your head from being upside down and still Lo’ak has given you nothing close to the attention or reassurance you require.

“You use it.” You point out.

“You know that’s different, mama.” The nickname is enough to finally have a small smile encasing your lips, unfortunately it’s fleeting. “Why are you out of bed? It’s barely dawn.”

Lo’ak doesn’t give you a second to respond before taking in a full breath and dunking under the water again. Your teeth grind together as you wait impatiently for him to stop fumbling with the twine underwater and let you work together a reconciliation between you two. The younger Sully brother has always had a way of expressing his disapproval, the theatrics sometimes enough to have you mouthing off and trying to beat him at his own game. Today seems to be no exception.

Guilt is quickly whittling along your nerves, faster and faster as the silence stretches on and Lo’ak still remains hidden beneath the surface. When his head finally pops up out of the water, the words leave your lips within record time. “I missed you!”

Amber eyes finally flicker up towards you for the first time since your arrival.

“Yawne, I’m working.”

“Is this my punishment?”

He lags at the question, ears twitching and tail coiling together before facing you once more. His dark eyebrow furrow and the edges of his lips downturn.

“Punishment?”

It takes a harsh steadying breath before you brashly begin to give the speech you’ve been preparing since last night. There seems to be so many things to include, so many ways to say you’re sorry. The order and details of this speech are rapidly becoming jumbled until you are sure that not even half of it will come out right even before you have parted your lips.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, Lo. I really am! Neteyam and I just got caught up in the moment and…not that I’m trying to excuse the behavior because yes it was not the most considerate to you. And then the timing of it all was…by Eywa, disastrous. I wanted to be there when you got back! I had a whole plan, was going to pick your favorite fruit but of course I didn’t think you would be back that early. Still I just-”

He sternly speaks your name, cutting off the endless spew of apologies.

“Breathe, baby.” Lo’ak calmly instructs and although your urge to continue talking till things are resolved still bubbles inside, you follow his command. Once you’ve seemed to settle enough to his approval he finally continues. “There is nothing to apologize for. You’re Neteyam’s mate too. You don’t need my permission to fuck each another.”

Although his words are spoken calmly, the edge of his cursing and timber in the tone still sets your anxiety spiking. The Sully brothers may be proud to know you inside and out, but that bridge goes both ways. You recognize this tone of voice, the hint of shame and bridled emotion that Lo’ak carries when he forces himself to not overreact about something. He has a inclination to keep certain emotions locked away when deemed childish or ridiculous, perhaps ones that he was scolded for having in his adolescence.

Truth be told, you don’t require his permission. The three of you have entered into this relationship and agreed to the terms consequently but that doesn’t mean you are proud of how things went down. Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should, not when it comes at the cost of Lo’ak’s feelings. There were better ways that yesterday could’ve been handled. A deep frown etches into your features when you imagine how disappointing it must’ve been for Lo’ak to come home and have his first welcome home be nothing more than a reminder of how well you and Neteyam can get along without him.

“It wasn’t sensitive and I’m sorry. I know how you feel about it and-”

“Yawne,” He drops the net and faces you fully, the heat of his attention searing into your skin. “You do not need to apologize to me. I can handle it, I don’t need you to coddle me.”

Slowly your wide tail slinks do the ground, following suit with your pinned back ears. Lo’ak, however, can not hide his own tell-tale signs either. It’s easy to recognize the shift of his own tail and tension creeps through his shoulders. Although he returns to the task at hand, you are far from being done with yours.

You allow your body to flip over your head, cascading you over the edge and into the shallow water. Feet planted along the sandy bottom, the water’s surface reaches considerably higher up your own torso in comparison to where it sits along Lo’ak’s hip tattoos. He’s back to gathering the net, although he can sense your presence easily.

“I can tell you’re upset.”

“I am not mad. Truly.” The brief eye contact is broken as he turns around and digs his heels into the sand, readying himself to tug once more. It only takes a few more tugs for Lo��ak to decide that this method is ineffective. He easily heaves himself back up onto the walkway to retrieve his discarded sheathed knife. When he does, your eyes follow the curve of his sculpted ass, water dripping down the slopes of his spine and hips.

The two of you may be in the middle of whatever you call this disagreement, but it’s been five days since you’ve seen him.

Five days since his five-fingered hands have explored your body. Five days since he has been seated inside of you. Five days since you have had the opportunity to express your love through the passion of tangling limbs and unrestrained devotion.

The throb of your core is insistent as you drink in every detail of his beauty.

Back in the water with knife in hand, Lo’ak stubbornly continues to give you the cold shoulder.

“You’re not mad, huh?”

“Nope.” He mutters, adjusting the straps of his loincloth.

“Well then if you’re not mad…” You trail off, sauntering over to him through the thick of water gracefully. A shiver wracks his spine when your soft fingers trace along each jut of his vertebrae. “Indulge me.” You let your obvious seductive passion drip into each word. Now is not the time to be bashful. You’re ready to outright beg if that is what it takes.

“Yawne…” He sighs, “I really am supposed to get this net un-”

“Forget about the damn net for a minute!” His head whips around to send you a sharp look, but it does little to sway your determination. It’s too easy to see the spark of intrigue in his eyes. “You’ve spent the last five days working, all away from me. You can spare a minute.”

Your hands naturally come to rest along his slim hips as he turns to face you fully, his larger frame towering over you and blocking the orange glow of the sun. You can’t even find it in yourself to be apprehensive or remorseful when those long fingers tilt your chin up and bring you looking directly into that unyielding gaze. Any attention is considered progress and welcomed openly. All it takes are a few strategic maneuvers and this man will be beneath your fingertips. You know it.

“Seems like someone forgot their manners while I was away.” The cool shells along those two loose braids dangle down to your soft cheek. Lo’ak’s calm breath fans over your lips, mere centimeters away from their destination.

“Oops.” You answer coyly, a feigned pout mixed with a shimmer of arrogance laces your features. He doesn’t stop the pads of your fingers from leisurely drawing swirling lines along his abdomen and sides. “Although I hardly think I could be blamed for such a thing.”

An innocent peck is left on his lips.

“You are the one that left after all.” Another kiss and then you’re turning away to make your retreat.

You are barely afforded one step before being pulled back into his embrace, back now pressed against the supporting tree. His lips are on yours in an instant, heated passion and desperation swirling in every movement of his protruding tongue. Barely having fleeting moments to breathe, you return the kiss with just as much enthusiasm and ferver.

Finally!

It takes considerable effort not to let your pride show in a devilish smirk against his lips. Lo’ak loves to consider himself the cunning clever predator in your little game of push and pull, but you can’t help but feel that you are the victorious one in this situation.

A cinching grip around your waist is all you require as a signal to jump and wrap your legs securely around his hips. The new position finally allows some much needed friction along your core, requiring every fiber of self discipline to not immediately grind back against him. Fingers grasping at the nape of his neck, you enjoy the way your mate completely devours you whole. Every worry and hesitation finally flies out the window now that the sweet reassurance of physical intimacy soothes those nerves.

When he finally pulls away, allowing air to reach your lungs once more, his wandering touch trails along your outer thighs. Your ankles cross and you pointedly flex to pull him closer.

“God, I missed you, yawne.” He chuckles, nose pressed against yours.

“Let me make it up to you.” It’s a soft plea, aided by your docile expression and doe eyed impression. It would be foolish to believe that Lo’ak buys the innocent act, but regardless he is too eager to see where this thing goes to truly care. Might as well let you be a little spitfire, he’ll be the one winning in the end either way.

A low hum rumbles in his chest. Lo’ak allows his eyes to linger over your small frame, revel in the way it is so sweetly wrapped around him like a vice. It’s been way too long. Although he prefers to still tease and torment you a little further, he’s too hungry to let things carry on for too long.

“You really want to make it up to me, tanhi?” A stray curl is delicately brushed from your forehead, ears twitching in response to the gentle touch.

“Yes.”

“Well lucky for you I know just the way.”

There isn’t a second allowed for questioning before your world is being flipped around again and you find yourself sprawled out across the walkway. He heaves your smaller frame up onto the padded surface as if throwing another net out into the ocean, effortlessly and with confident familiarity. You half expect him to jump up and join you, scattering away to a secluded spot to finally be together, but then large hands are pulling you towards the edge till your ass almost hangs over.

A small squeak escapes your lips as you try to understand what is happening but then the ties of your loincloth are being unknotted expertly.

“Lo’ak wait!” You attempt to push at his working finger while whipping your head around frantically to see if anyone else has stumbled upon the two of you. This section of the village is a newer addition. It’s lined with recently built maruis meant for newly mated couples, none of them occupied yet. However, that does not deem the two of you safe from random stragglers or curious Na’vi that come to investigate the noises you are sure to make if this man keeps working you up the way he desires. Lo’ak is unswayed by your resistance, gently swatting your small fingers away in slight annoyance.

“Not here.” Heightened awareness of your public location naturally drops your tone down into a hushed whisper. Lo’ak’s lips curl up into an amused crooked grin as he shakes his head fondly. Before you know it, he has successfully unraveled the twine material and starts to try wrestling the fabric away from your pelvis.

“Yes here.” Comes his rebuttal.

“But what if someone hears?” When your legs snap close to keep the fabric in place, his golden eyes snap up to your own cerulean orbs sternly. The raise of those unique eyebrows is a sure sign that you are about to walk on shaky ground.

“Then I guess you will have to be quiet. Won’t you, sevin?”

There is a way out of this, just one mutter of your safeword and Lo’ak is sure to bundle you back up and lead you away. The thought crosses your mind for a moment, but a lingering promise of disappointment at the end of that path advises you against it. It’s impossible to ignore the pool of heat in your gut as you come to realize the true risk of this situation. Sometimes you wonder if you have your own sex drive and logic playing for opposing teams.

“Lo!” You whine, hands coming to cover the blooming blush across your heated face. It’s all the confirmation he requires before parting your legs and finally stripping the fabric away.

The heat of his intent gaze upon your exposed folds seems to sear right down to your core. Even with the remnants of salt water covering your teel skin, he is sure to see the evidence of your sticky arousal seeping out. A feral grin overtakes his expression as he repositions your legs to be bent and spread properly. An unobscured view of your most intimate parts.

He leans in to give his signature little kiss atop your button, but instead of the usual teasing peck you are instead met with a burst of warmth across your exposed parts. He wastes no time in leaving a never ending string of open mouthed kisses to the sensitive area. His tongue mimics the ministrations of your heated kiss earlier but now along your delicate pussy and it’s such a skyrocket from zero to one hundred, it takes a moment to recapture your breath.

“Lo’ak! Wait don’t you think…ah shit! Lo, you’re gonna kill me!” You screech out, barely able to randomly dampen down the volume of your own voice. It feels as if it has been a century since the welcoming warmth of his mouth has swiped along your inner parts and the drastic change is overwhelming to say the least. Caught between trying to wrest his face away from your soaked petals and keeping your head on a swivel to look for passerbys, it’s difficult to keep your brain online.

“Someone is going to catch us.”

His lips finally descend from your pussy, shiny slick already visible along the cupid’s bow of his upper lip. Lo’ak uses those large hands to grip your inner thighs and spread them properly again.

“It’s been almost a week without the taste of you, mama. Not sure how you expect me to act.” He chuckles deeply, eyes already trailing back down to your vulnerable flesh. “Besides,” A finger swipes through the cut of you, drawing another wrangled moan from your throat. “I can tell she missed me too.”

It’s hard to say no to Lo’ak when he is in this state, so utterly pleased with himself as he draws teasing circles along your clit, his beautiful braids tied atop his head just the way you like and broad shoulders creating the perfect surface to rest your dangling legs. Logic and lust do not mix well, one always comes to outcompete the other and seeing the state that he is in after your own longings over the past few days, it seems the desire has the upperhand in this fight.

“So, be a good girl. Keep those legs spread and let me have my breakfast.”

You go to make some smart remark after the devious wink he sends your way but any resemblance of a planned sentence is interrupted by the heat of his mouth on you once more. Lo’ak is insatiable, skipping the common steps of warming you up and instead taking everything you have to offer as his own personal dessert. His textured tongue glides along your inner folds and swirls around the clit with flickering intensity and accelerated pressure.

The only sounds that can be heard are that of rushing water, distant murmurs of the village waking up and Lo’ak’s absolutely feral groans as he eats you out fervently. The years of practicing his breath hold appears to come in handy as he suffocates his own face with your sweet pussy.

While he makes no efforts to keep his groans and whines of pleasure at bay, you are slowly losing the awareness to keep yourself from doing the same. It continues at such a pace that sends tendrils of pleasure crawling up the base of your spin to the tips of your pinned ears. It feels as if bolts of lightning are gathering in your pelvis with nowhere else to go. Your cerulean eyes rangle themselves open so you can stare at the brightening sun with your head sprained backwards. It’s difficult to focus on the changing colors of Pandora's wondrous skies but it’s the only tool at your disposal as one more look at Lo’ak between your thighs is sure to bring on the impending orgasm.

At first, he truly does focus on getting his own fill, messily devouring your unique taste until it paints his dark blue skin. However, Lo’ak seems to find a goal after a few minutes of your muted moans. And that goal is all focused on making you fall apart for him, tremble and break beneath his skilled tongue and let those pretty sounds out without apprehension or care.

The shiny jewels of your top are flipped to the side to join your sprawled out hair as he goes to work on exploring and massaging your succulent breasts. His efforts below don’t break for an instant, finding a way to multitask between palming and exciting your tender breasts and sucking your living soul out from your pussy.

When those skilled fingers cinch around your nipples sharply just as his lips close and suction around your bundle of nerves, it’s the pebble that breaks that stone wall. Pillowy lips part to release desperate whimpers and moans as your back arches lewdly. Somehow it’s possible to feel Lo’ak’s triumphant smirk against your core even as he continues to suction your clit expertly. The heels of your feet are already digging into his flexing shoulder blades and your fingers seem to find their own way into his bun to tug roughly, but that only spurs on a deep groan from the forest boy.

If anything he encourages the rough play, buzzing words of approval along your pussy to keep you going. It’s a wonder that his bun doesn’t fall out after several minutes of your rough yanking. Were you in any better state of recollection you would see the strain of Lo’ak’s neck to keep his head stubbornly in place with every yank of his hair. Still, Lo’ak doesn’t show a glimmer of complaint. His eyes darken into pools of molten good, only visible through the sprawled slits of his eyes the few times he comes up for air or to admire your wreckage.

“Oh Eywa, Lo’ak! F-feels so good, please please don’t stop!”

“Atta girl.”

His dull nails flick at the peak of your right breast, eliciting a sharp shot of pain that melts into thrumming ecstasy. The pleasure is all consuming and hurtling you towards the cliff sooner than you would like. Lo’ak shows no signs of wanting to slow down, even as your grip on his hair tries effortlessly to yank him away. If he continues now you are sure to climax before the two of you have even begun, and the thought of not being filled by him after days apart is disheartening.

“Wait, Lo’ak! Need you inside. Need it right now!”

Your eyes lock, his own peering up at you as he makes a show of unfurling his tongue to lick broad stripes from your pussy to clit. The lewd scene is enough to have that familiar tension coiling in your pelvis.

“Nu-huh, baby. Not yet. I still haven’t gotten my welcome home present.” Sparkling eyes of mischief tickle at your intuition, warning of danger ahead.

“Lo’ak! Sir please!” Hopefully the formal addressing is enough to have him swayed to your side. “If I cum now I don’t know if-ah oh Eywa…Lo! If I will be able to cum again. W-want to cum on your cock.”

There is a moment of reprieve when Lo’ak tenderly kisses and sucks at the plush flesh of your inner thighs. Somehow the younger brother has always had an immaculate memory of which marks were left by him. He nurses those particular spots back to a beautiful shade of purple, leaving the marks from his brother unattended. The lack of response has your wall of suspicion hoisting quickly, but Lo’ak seems to be in a good mood so you take comfort in that. If anything, you start to believe that the earlier hurt has been washed away by this physical intimacy.

When the tips of two fingers nudge at your entrance, you let out a sigh of relief. Only a few more minutes to get you stretched properly and then he will finally seat himself inside of you. Truth be told, there seems to be hardly any need for preparatory measures. The velvety walls of your channel grip his long fingers tightly, pulsing around him incessantly. They are able to twist and scissor inside of you seamlessly, walls fitting around his shape in practiced obedience.

A jolt of pressure stabs at your groin, but then those fingers curl to massage at your g spot. With toes curled and a scrunched face you try to hold yourself back from the edge. This effort seems almost futile when his sticky lips come to fondle with your nub once more.

“Lo! Baby, too much! I-I’m gonna cum!”

A soft kiss is placed directly atop your mound before that smug face is glancing up at you from below.

“I really did miss you, mama.” The smooth brush of his voice darkens into a languid purr.

“M-missed you too, Lo’ak! So much! Need you now.”

The pads of his fingers press and work at that tight bundle of nerves. The building waves of your impending climax are reaching new heights and sending warning signals through your body. Already you can tell that this is about to be a powerful release, one that makes your stomach flips in somersaults.

“God, nothing tastes as sweet as you, paskalin.” His pink tongue comes to swipe along his bottom lip, collecting the sticky substance smeared over his complexion. “You mentioned something about bringing me fruit when I returned?” It’s almost comical the way his voice morphs into a casual tone even as his fingers are knuckles deep inside of you, torturing that sweet spot.

“Yes, I was going to bring you your-ah favorite fruits.”

“Fuck, yawne. You are just too precious sometimes.” He chuckles, pinching your chin and swiping a finger over your parted lips. A trickle of saliva escapes your mouth and wets his thumb in the process. Lo’ak shows no objection, instead pushing his thumb past your lips to press down on your tongue. Automatically, the pink of your tongue lays flat obediently, allowing him to see your mouth clearly. “I appreciate the thought, but you know what I really want, mama?”

It’s not a rhetorical question, evident by the halt of his fingers and the way one eyebrow arches upwards. Gulping down the pooling saliva around his thumb you manage to get out a small “what?” around the digit.

Instead of a verbal response you are met with the sight of his saliva covered thumb trailing down the slope of your neck, across the valley between your breasts and drawing over every curve of your soft body until finding their destination back upon your clit. Just enough pressure is applied to bring forth another wave of white hot pleasure. Successfully, the edge of his thumb manages to slip past the clitoral hood and find home right atop that incredibly small and sensitive button of nerves.

Jolts of lightning laces your nerves with every swipe of that teasing finger, only bringing further pleasure when accented by the other hand working to massage that bundle of nerves from the inside. It’s a measured and merciless onslaught of pleasure, trapping you with inconceivable thrills from either side.

One look at that smug expression painting his face, and realization dawns.

You know exactly what he wants.

“No! Lo’ak, you know I can’t!” Your protests are smeared by the occasional shrieks and moans that endlessly cascade from your lips. The corners of his lips curve upwards.

“Come on, mama. You and I both know you can. Just need to be a good girl and let it go for me.” His argument is further aided by simple flicks of his tongue at the bottom of your clit, between his working fingers. Pressure is already building at an alarming rate. You’ve never seen a volcano in person but you imagine this is the feeling of rising intensity that preludes such a colossal explosion.

“Lo’ak!” Your legs shake and tremble as you try to push back against him. The squirming gets you hardly any relief as the effects of such pleasure seem to already have been draining your body of its energy.

“Safeword if you need to. Otherwise, I will assume you’re just being pouty with me.” Lo’ak warns before returning to the onslaught upon your cunt.

You consider his words for a moment, checking yourself to see if this is really your breaking point, but the idea of stopping now strikes a lash of fear through you. Surely the only way to get through this is power forward and find the precipice of pleasure on the other side. Stopping now would only leave you with a sore cunt and shaking limbs, nothing in comparison to the satisfaction that awaits you. Besides, you trust Lo’ak. He would never intentionally harm you, he’s proven that time and time again. So your lips clamp shut along with your eyes as your body squirms along the woven surface.

“That’s it, mama. Just let it happen. Fuck, look at how pretty your pussy is like this.” He revels in the squelching sound that accompanies his sliding and curling fingers. The heat of your blush radiates from your in waves with the thick haze of your arousal. It causes his nostrils to flare in order to accommodate more of that sweet scent. It’s driving him up the wall, watching you squirm, whine, and clench around him in the middle of the walkway for anyone to see. Even beneath the slightly chilled salt water, he can feel his dick bursting to break free from the confines of his restricting loincloth.

Not yet.

There will be time for that soon, but right now he is focused on getting what he came for.

He can sense the trepidation rolling off of you in waves, even from the clench of your closing legs it’s obvious to see that you are fighting this.

“C-can’t!”

“You can and will. I’ll make sure of it.” The forest boy promises. “It’s all in your head, yawne. Just a little mental block you need to break through.” It takes wrestling his broad shoulder between your thighs to pry them open once more.

“But-”

“Don’t you wanna make it up to me, mama?” The ascent of kisses along your inner thighs is revived once more, plush kisses alternating between heated words of praise and encouragement. “Can’t get enough of you. Five days is way too long, little one. I need a treat.”

It’s obvious from the way your hips bucks and strangled screeches catch in your throat that you are on the precipice. So close to finally getting what he wants, Lo’ak doubles down on his efforts. Soothing drawls of promises and praise flow from his lips without thought. The little kitten licks he leaves under his working thumb gives him just enough of a sample of the sweet juices he hopes to receive soon. Motivation fueling him forward, Lo’ak massages at that bundle of nerves from both sides until you are trying to kick him away.

The pleasure is so all consuming that it almost hurts. It feels as if your body may simply shatter into pieces at any moment.

“I know what you need, mama.” Lo’ak gently guides your kuru braid to the end of the path. Eyes snapping open, a wanton moan leaves your lips as a wordless plea to continue. Begging is unnecessary because Lo’ak manages to swing his own braid over his shoulder and connect the tendrils without delay.

The instant connection gives you something to fall back onto, something familiar and comforting in this depth of uncharted territory. The bond purrs with pleasure from both sides, but it’s his building anticipation and desire thrumming through the mental connection that has your self control disintegrating.

Suddenly, without your volition or permission, the muscles in your pelvis tighten and an alarming sense of impending need for release surfaces. You try to cry out and warn him, sputtering some nonsense about needing to pee but Lo’ak hushes those concerns away, drawing on and on about just letting go. It’s not a choice, not a sensation that is in your control. Those spasming muscles tighten until a stream of your juices is squirting outwards.

Back arched and body tensed, electricity flows through your veins in the form of pure ecstasy, so demanding that it threatens to block out your vision with phantom stars. Lo’ak wastes no time in swooping in. He catches every squirt from your spasming pussy with a undetained urgency. The deep groans and whines that vibrate from his chest almost slide under the radar from your penetrating screams drawing them out. He suckles and feasts on you like a starved man finally offered the luxury of a five star dessert.

The tips of your nails are digging into his scalp and untwisting his carefully prepared topknot. Lo’ak is too focused on drinking in every ounce of sweet juice squirting from you to care about the fallen hairstyle. He groans and slurps up the addicting juices until broken cries fall from your lips and the stream ends.

“Thank you, mama” He groans, taking out his fingers and cleaning your drenched pussy thoroughly with his tongue. The weight of your body weighs heavy on you. It’s too much to consider rolling away to protect your sensitive core.

When he finally takes a breath, lifting his head to lick his fingers, he finds your gaze misted over with a thick haze. He studies the way your soft form is slack and sprawled across the walkway, not the twinkling of a thought present in your beautiful ocean blue eyes. The sun has now risen to paint the village in rays of gold. They dance across your form perfectly, bringing out every beautiful curve that has haunted Lo’ak’s wet dreams for the entirety of the excursion.

“Such a good girl, baby.” Your overwhelming pleasure still drones over tshayelu and leaves his own cock twitching, but there is an undertone of deep seated trust woven there. You’ve given in and given yourself over. With your luscious curls splayed around your head like a halo, Lo’ak is sure he has never seen a more beautiful sight.

“Lo…”

“I know, mama. God I love you so fucking much!” He can’t hold himself back from kissing and exploring every inch of your body. His hands wander greedily to grope and take in every curve of plush flesh and smooth skin painted with those beautiful scribble of stripes. Every inch of explored skin brings you further and further off the edge until you are back in his arms with shaky legs loosely wrapped around his waist.

“L-love you too, Lo’ak.” His neck is a safe place to rest your heated face. “So much.”

The night is far from over, his bulge pressing against your stomach still stirs to your remembrance his promise, but he lets the moment sway and settle for a while longer. You're completely pliant and soft in his arms as he cradles you. The soothing pheromones that draft from him are enough to finally set your muscles at ease. Words are hardly needed as you can feel the radiating satisfaction and pride that flows from his end of the bond.

Proud of himself?

Proud of how he can tear you apart and piece you back together?

Perhaps, but the most overwhelming sentiment that travels is the pride that he feels for you. For the steps you’ve taken today.

This is the first time you’ve ever squirted, although it has been a goal of the Sully brothers for quite some time now. For the longest time it didn’t seem in the cards for you. Even with their dual efforts, you had never been able to get past that mental block.

That is…until now.

Lo’ak takes the bulk of your weight as your legs are doing close to nothing around his waist in this condition. He makes a show of licking his lips and humming in delight, even when you sheepishly hide your face against his neck in response. Strength is finally beginning to seep back into your countenance even as your mind remains offline. The only subjects flashing across the forefront of your mind are the sweet traces of his touch and thrum of satisfaction rippling across the bond.

It isn't long before more of that sweet honey is gathering between your legs and leaking onto his loincloth. You rut up against him. The silent plea to feel him inside does not go unnoticed.

You’re startled by a sudden chuckle from Lo’ak. Blinking up at him you recognize that shit-eating grin showing off his smug attitude.

“What?”

“Just wait till Neteyam finds out.” He laughs with glee as you gasp, weakly trying to hit his chest.

“Don’t you dare!”

He neither promises to keep it a secret or spare his brother from the knowledge of this milestone belonging to him, but every trace of contention is clear. His disastrous return has been overshadowed by this golden memory.

As always, I would love to hear y'all's feedback and thoughts <3

taglist: @pandorxxx @pandoraslxna @anonka01 @luvv4j4ybe11 @shadowmoonlight0604 @savvysscandles @neteluvr @neteyamssyulang @ethansluv @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @young5643-blog @loaksulluyswife @xylobee @ficmenrhot @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @henhouse-horrors @neteyamtesuli

519 notes · View notes