#heated floor i presume ;)
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if u think i’m pretty || chris sturniolo
SMUT. 18+. Minors DNI. tw: hate fucking. lots of it. bickering while fucking? idk you get the gist. finally got around to writing about chris. can you believe i scrapped like 5 fics? 🥴 yeah me either! also, sequel with matt if yall want it ;)
part two w/matt is here :)
“Christopher fucking Sturniolo!”
Your words were laced with venom, the staircase rumbling beneath you as you stomped upstairs. Faintly you could hear Matt call out for you, your mind too filled with rage to hear him properly.
Pornographic moans flooded your eardrums as you reached Chris’s room, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. Your closed fist rattled his door, the dramatic moans coming to a screeching halt.
“Open the fucking door dickwad!” You screamed. Impatiently you tapped your foot, deciding he was taking too long. You grabbed the door handle, (surprised to find it unlocked), and swung the door open.
It was almost comical watching Chris and a girl you didn’t know scramble to get themselves dressed.
“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out! Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Chris spat, shoving his gray sweatpants on. For a brief moment you felt bad for the girl, her waterline filling with tears. She was just one of many you had seen this week. You grabbed a shirt you presumed to be hers, handing it to her. You took a deep breath, containing your anger as you looked at her.
“Please get dressed and for the love of God, find someone better to fuck,” You sighed. The blonde was gone in a flash, practically sprinting out of Chris’s room. You crossed your arms, shooting lasers out of your eyes as you glared at the brunette across from you. Oh, only if looks could kill.
“I’m not believing my phone magically teleported into the dishwasher of all places,” You snarled. Your phone had been missing for six hours straight, your iphones location still saying it was at the triplets house. You had dragged Matt and Nick all around their house, searching from the ceiling to the floor. When you had finally accepted defeat, you had opened the dishwasher to grab a bowl to make a snack.
And to your displeasure, your phone was sopping wet, sitting in plain sight on the rack.
“You have zero proof I did that, literally zero,” Chris argued. Your eyes briefly flickered to his exposed chest, the amount of skin throwing you off. You shook your head, showing Chris your ruined phone. “Really? Because I can’t recall the last time you did dishes but you magically did them last night,” You snapped. Chris shrugged nonchalantly, a cocky smirk creeping across his lips.
“What can I say? I figured i’d help out the household,”
That’s it.
You chucked your phone at him, the brunette dodging the attack by seconds. It was ruined away, even the rice method was unable to save your phone. It smacked against the wall, the sound making Chris jump. “Maybe your phone wouldn’t be ruined if you weren’t having very LOUD phone sex with your boyfriend!” Chris yelled. You threw your hands up in the air, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? Why would I ever-” You began arguing, before it clicked.
You weren’t having phone sex with anyone, that was for sure. But you stayed over at the Sturniolo household frequently, to the point where you were there more often than you were home. As much as Chris drove you insane, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. The concept of the attraction being forbidden, soured by years and years of bickering, did something inside of you.
You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, even though you didn’t want it to. Chris snickered at your loss of words, shooting you a genuine smile. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He teased. In a swift motion you dashed across the room, your palm connecting with his cheek. Your tension with Chris had never gone beyond yelling. He had never crawled under your skin so much before, embarrassment seeping over you as you thought about the whole house hearing what he said.
A long pause silenced the room, the sound of the slap echoing through out your ears. Chris took a moment to process what you had just done, before his sharp gaze meant yours. His hand flew to your throat, gripping the sides as he threw you against the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your body in fight or flight mode. He easily towered over you, his sharp blue eyes filled with rage.
“You’re such a fucking whore,” Chris grumbled. He squeezed the sides of your neck harder, a whimper escaping your lips. His grip loosened, his attention fully dedicated to the sound you had made. The brunette tilted his head to the side curiously, as if he hadn’t believed what he just heard. “Did you just whimper?” He questioned. You shook your head no, Chris’s knee spreading your legs apart. Testing the waters, he brought his face closer to yours.
“You know, your little stunt prevented me from finishing earlier. Perhaps you’d like to help me out,” Chris purred, the glint of lust in your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. You rolled your eyes, your heart beginning to race as his body pressed against yours. “If you’re going to kiss me get on with it before I change my mind,” You said plainly. Chris’s grip on your throat tightened, your airway becoming restricted.
“You’ve always been a mouthy one,” He muttered, roughly bringing his lips to yours.
Chris hated how good you tasted, how good you smelled. He hated how your skin always looked so soft, your lips so plump. He despised how confident you were, always charging into everything in your life head first. What Chris actually liked, was that you challenged him. He knew that his infatuation with you wasn’t actually feelings, just raw and untamed lust. But fuck, with your lips against his, it made him want to change his mind.
The two of you clawed off each other’s clothes, discarding the clothing to the floor. Chris’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, before sliding inside. His kisses were rough and sloppy, your body addicted to the electricity he made run down your spine. You pushed him harshly against the bed, his back hitting the soft mattress underneath him.
You straddled him quickly, attempting to take control of the situation. Ever so slowly you grinded your wet cunt against his exposed shaft, a groan escaping his lips. Chris cockily put his hands behind his head, admiring you. “Go ahead, get yourself off just by grinding on me. You can do it pretty girl,” Chris instructed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks at the sound of his praise, your hips moving seemingly on their own.
Curses left your lips as you threw your head back. “Making me get myself off since you can’t do it? Figures,” You managed to say, your movements becoming more desperate. Chris leaned forward on his elbows, watching your cunt slide up and down his shift. “I’d watch your words ma, i’ll overstimulate you until you’re nothing but a cock craving whore,” Chris warned. His warning felt real, the threat in it seeking genuinely true. Even if you didn’t want to believe it.
Chris bit his bottom lip as you shamelessly grinded against him, every little movement providing pleasure to your clit. “You really think i’d fuck as many girls as I do if I couldn’t make them cum? I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Chris said coldly, mockingly tilting his head to the side. Your gaze landed back on the man beneath you, ignoring his cock in between your folds. “Yeah? I thought I was supposed to be overstimulated by now. What happened to that?” You challenged.
He was quick to change positions, your back landing against the mattress before you could think. He roughly spread your thighs apart, shoving two fingers into your cunt. A gasp of surprise was ripped from your throat, his spare hand resuming its place as your personal collar. Chris’s name spilled off of your lips as his fingers curled inside of you, his name becoming a sinful mantra. “What happened? Not so cocky now are we?” Chris taunted, watching you fall apart on his fingers.
The sight of you was enough to make his cock throb, his body craving attention. Chris remained focused, determined to corrupt you. “Open your fucking mouth slut,” Chris ordered. You so without a second thought, flattening your tongue across your bottom lip. He gripped your face harshly, leaning over and spitting into your mouth. “Swallow it,” He growled, watching you intently. You did as you were told, swallowing his saliva. You felt humiliated as it slid down your throat, the feeling euphoric.
“Thats a good girl, now why don’t you cum on my fingers for me? Hmm?” Chris asked. His words of praise made the rope inside of you snap, your orgasm washing over you without warning. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling as Chris removed his fingers from your aching cunt. You watched as he sucked them clean, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so.
Still coming down from your high, you put every last bit of energy into rolling your eyes. “Are you going to fuck me or just stare?” You asked. Chris’s cocky smile fell, replaced with a frown. “Nothings ever good enough for you, is it?” He replied, crawling on top of you. He brushed the tip of his cock up and down your folds teasingly, enjoying hearing you audibly whine for him. “Why’d you destroy my phone?” You asked, your coherent thoughts interrupted by him shoving himself inside of you.
You both moaned in unison, the unholy sounds vibrating off of the walls. “Why’d you decide to have phone sex in my house?” Chris gritted out, sliding himself further into you. He had more girth than you expected, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I asked you first dipshit,” You spat, fighting back a groan as he slid in further. Chris could feel your walls spasming around his cock, the sensation enough to make him cum right then and there. But he knew you’d never let him live it down.
“Yeah? Well I asked you second,” Chris replied, bottoming out inside of you. The tip of his shaft brushed against your g spot, the slightest movement of his hips making you whimper. “If you must know I wasn’t having phone sex, dumbass,” You said honestly. Chris pulled his hips back at a teasing rate, entertaining the argument. “Yeah? So what were you doing?” He questioned, doubting what you were saying. His hips bucked back into yours, hitting your g spot purposefully slow. He was drawing his thrust out, enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath him.
“I-I was thinking of you, alright? Now are you going to fuck me or what?” You rambled, embarrassed by your confession. Chris paused for a moment, soaking in your words. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Is that so? Well, I destroyed your phone because I got jealous. You belong under me, just like this, taking my cock,” Chris purred, ignoring the embarrassment of his own confession. He pulled back slightly, allowing the two of you to make eye contact.
Out of breath and desperate, both of you panted as you stared into each other’s eyes. “Well, in that case, you better get on with it,” You said weakly. The same cocky smile that you hated plastered across his lips, his hips bucking into yours quickly. Your nails dug into his back as his hips continued to slam into yours, his cock buried inside of your cunt. Chris couldn’t hold back his own groans, your walls milking his cock dry.
With glazed eyes he met your gaze, relishing in the sound of your groans, chanting his name. “Open your mouth for me,” He ordered, his cock abusing your cervix. Chris enjoyed that you didn’t hesitate, obeying him without a second thought. He put two fingers into your mouth, shoving them as far back as he could. “Now fucking suck them slut,” He growled. With each degrading word you squeezed him harder, your body snitching on your hidden desire.
“You look so pretty like this, when you aren’t yapping that mouth of yours,” He huffed. A painful whine came from his lips, your nails purposefully digging deeper into his back. You pathetically bobbed your head up and down on his fingers, concealing your smirk as you heard him in audible pain. Chris slithered his spare hand down to your cunt, drawing fast and sloppy circles around your clit.
“Go on, cum for me. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are for me,” Chris panted. The extra sensation was enough to make you throw your head back, Chris’s fingers still lodged in your mouth. Your warning of your orgasm was muffled, your thighs shaking violently under him. The sight was going to be burned into Chris’s memory forever, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him giving him an undeniable ego boost. He fucked you through your orgasm, becoming preoccupied with chasing his own.
His fingers roughly grabbed your waist, fucking you rougher. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” He admitted. Chris watched, mesmerized as his cock slid in and out of your cunt. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his hips beginning to stutter. You grabbed him by his throat, dragging him towards you. You put your mouth next to his ear, smirking as you told him, “Inside of me.”
You filthy fuck. For the first time your name fell from Chris’s lips as he came, his warm seed flooding your cunt. In unison you both tried to catch your breath, Chris carefully slipping out of you. The room was silent, besides desperate breathing, a knock came from Chris’s door.
“Yeah?”
“Your uh, doordash is here dude,” Matt said awkwardly. You could hear him place a bag in front of his bedroom door. “Thanks,” Chris replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“Hey Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time maybe fuck a little quieter, Nicks pretty pissed.”
You exchanged glances with Chris, watching as he shoved on a shirt.
“You heard him, be quiet next time,”
“Next time? There won’t be a next time. Mr.I lasted thirty seconds.”
The sound of you two bickering made Matt roll his eyes, causing him to walk away. He wondered if you both would ever get married, or if you both would hate fuck forever. He shrugged at the idea, heading back downstairs. All Matt knew for sure, was that your moans made him cum the hardest he ever had. And that, was enough for him.
#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x y/n#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut
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“i need you.”
- abby anderson
cw: nsfw, oral sex (abby! receiving) fingering (abby! receiving) slight dacryphilia, slight voyeurism? softdom!reader, sub!abby. enjoy! ˖ ࣪⊹
read pt 2 of i need you here!
.*･｡ﾟ 𝜗𝜚 .*･｡ﾟ
abby’s been pumping it at the gym as per usual, with less than pure thoughts racing through her mind. she’s been feeling… weird. something she knew was bound to come sooner or later, but it’s been pushed to the back of her mind so far that she’d been oblivious to it until now.
you.
her patrol partner, but by this point, you guys were more than just ‘friends.’ she’d had deep, obsessive thoughts about you. ones she’s too embarrassed to talk aloud — ones where she feels weak at the knees just by thinking about it.
abby’s hand flex open and closed from a fist, grabbing onto the weighted bar she was laying underneath. she had to let off some steam or else these thoughts would nevertheless, totally consume her.
she picks the bar up with ease, her blood already flowing in a coursing stream from the millions of dirty things she wanted you to do to her. it was filthy, and she couldn’t help but let out a little groan thinking about what power you’d have over her strong, muscular figure.
how your soft fingers would trail over her arms in wonder, unbeknownst to you, it would be the only thing she’s thinking off at night when fucking herself off to the thought of you.
you’re gleaming eyes, ones she’d fantasised would stare her down as you’d pound into her cunt with your tongue.
and not-suprsingly, your thighs. she has a thing for those, especially yours. it’s something she’d wish you’d rub all over her own as your moans and whines would meld together to form one sickening melody.
abby kept her eyes on the ball, squeezing the bar as tight as she could manage while lifting the bar up and down.
“4…. 5…. 6….”
she huffed out in even yet laboured breaths. it wasn’t the workout that forced her out of breath, it was you.
you were now standing outside the glass walls across the gym, giving abby a curious look as you analysed her workout routine. your eyes grazed across her arms, how they were already dripping with sweat, and her reddening face from what you presumed was her laboured session.
little to your knowledge, she felt heated from you and your eyes forcing daggers through her throat, making breathing like a normal human a challenge.
“13….14….15….”
abby puffs out, letting the bar rest on the bench press. she sits up, wiping a gleam of sweat from her forehead as she averts your piercing gaze. it suddenly felt hotter than usual, not just with you staring at her, but her core. it felt fluttery, and all the more warm.
she couldn’t help but rub her thighs together to try and fight off that feeling, but it’d only made it grow stronger with each swipe of friction from her work-out shorts.
maybe that’s why you were staring.
how her ass perfectly fit within the fabric, and every time she’d squat with weights above her shoulders, it grew more pronounced than ever. it was enough to make you melt right into the concrete floor.
abby hurriedly picked up her waterbottle, taking a large group of sips from it before pulling away with a couple heaved breaths. she stood up right upon you entering the gym, knowing she can’t avoid you entirely, she shyly walks up to you.
“hey.. you in for today?” she asks, a lump beginning to form in her throat as you look up at her with those adorable beady eyes.
“yeah, i missed out yesterday from our patrol.. you leaving already?” you ask, lips curling into an indiscreet grin.
“ah yeah.. i’ve done my fair share of work, but i’ll catch you soon, yeah?” she reaches her hand out, presumably to pull you into a hug like she does with the rest of her mates. but you were irrevocably different.
“mhm, let me know if you ever wanna have a session with me.” abby pulls you closer, her hand almost wrapping around your waist entirely. it amazed you how she could do that.
abby nods, her cheeks flaring up as you flashed a smile. god you were so sweet. too sweet for her but she craves it.
she picks up the pace and heads out of the gym to her room. turning around all twists and corners, nooks and crannies until she makes it to her door.
her legs are squeezed together, she can already feel what’s about to happen as soon as those doors fly open.
—
abby, all heated and breathless, is laying on her bed. the sheets are all sprawled out in whichever direction, which she could care less about. her fingers are madly thrusting in and out of her seeping, needy hole, the only thing on her mind is the thought of you spreading her thighs and licking all around her cunt, lips and all.
her whines are muffled with her hand plastered over her lips, so desperately wanting to shout out to you, to call your name and have you tell her she’s taking you so well.
“mmfh.. c’mon..”
her eyes rolled to the back of her head, to the sides and closed shut as the friction caused by her fingers slamming into her was making her legs spasm. it was hard to keep going knowing you weren’t really there between her thighs and drinking up all her delicious juices, but it felt so real.
her whines grew needier, with strands of her dirty blonde locks sticking to her forehead with sweat. she took her calloused hand away from her mouth for a moment to palm her tits, letting her fingers twist and massage her nipples. she audibly whined, shutting her eyes tightly as to imagine you were the one touching her, making her feel so good.
her eyes began to well up with tears, drops of her pleasure trickling down her rosy cheeks as she moaned out your name. over, and over, and over,
“abby?”
her eyes fly open to see you standing beside her bed, with your arms crossed and an almost stunned expression on your face?
abby grabs at a pillow that was next to her head, pulling it close to her flushed body with the most mortified look painting her face.
“oh- oh my god-” she sheepishly mutters. her voice grows an inch of an octave as she nervously stutters to grab the scrunched up blanket instead to cover her large figure.
“i’m- oh my god, i’m so sorry-”
if she felt embarrassed before, she’d now experienced her life literally flashing before her eyes as you towered over her.
“abby.. were you..?” you trail off, trying to hide that smug look on your face with a hand.
“no, i.. no i wasn’t..”
she searches for an excuse, one that would be believable enough for you to entertain. but she knew you were smarter than that. you could see right through her, now more than ever.
“abby...” you almost coo at her, sitting beside her and placing a hand on her thigh. just because she was embarrassed and still trapped in a state of shock didn’t mean that she wasn’t actively feeling her liquids pool out of her at your touch.
“i’m so sorry, i don’t know what i was thinking-”
you cut her off.
“ ‘s nothing to be ashamed of.” you pronounce. your eyes are locked onto hers, although she’s desperately attempting to avoid you entirely. she wanted to skip to maybe 5 minutes ago when this whole thing started so she wouldn’t have gotten carried away and basically fucked herself to the thought of you.
abby remained silent.
“..what were you saying? ‘i need you?’ ” you directly quote, making abby’s lips quiver in shame. it felt so good in the moment but she hadn’t ever expected you to walk in on her.
abby doesn’t respond, the reality of her actions slowly washing over her, each wave bringing her a sense of shame. shame she wished she could undo at the snap of her slick-covered fingers.
the atmosphere grew tense with each beat of silence that passed them by, but you were less than disgusted.
“..y’know, i can maybe help you out, if you’d like?”
your needy hand lightly trailed up and down her thigh, making abby shiver with want. your face inches closer to her, but only proceeding if she agreed.
she keeps her head down, but you can feel she wants it, she’s just too embarrassed to say anything. abby’s thighs begin to discreetly rub against each other, her liquids generously covering her inner thighs. that was enough of a sign for you.
“just sit there and relax, don’t do anything except look pretty, m’kay?” you whisper, words laced with sincerity as you pulled her closer with your index finger and thumb.
"this okay?" you ask in a soft tone one final time, but abby can't contain herself anymore, her needy lips meeting yours with nothing short of a moan. your lips are immediately locked, lapping over each other like you hadn't been touched in years. you could both just feel the desperation from each other as abby cubed your cheek with her hand, the one she was just using to pleasure herself a moment ago.
abby moans once more whilst you deepen the kiss, swapping saliva and messily letting your tongues meld together. now you could only hope no one would walk in on you both this time.
you pull away for a breather as you placed her hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her to lay on the small bed.
"shh, let me do the work" you coo, placing a wet kiss to her throat, your mouth sparing no break at sucking on her sweet spot, earning a soft whine from abby. oh how pretty her moans were. they drifted so effortlessly through the air like the wind on a fresh summer morning. you could feel just how needy she was for you by the way her hand aimlessly massaged your back. your back shivered, her touch making you tingle in all the right spots.
you begin to make your way down to her chest, pulling the blanket away from her breathtaking figure. her tits were perked up, just for you. she turned her head away from you as you gawked at them. although you'd just caught a glimpse of them as you walked in, they looked more savoury up close. you immediately jump to kiss her sweet nipples that just begged for you to touch them. you lapped your tongue around them a couple times before sucking them, saliva perfectly coating her pretty buds. she dubiously let out a whimper, her cheeks growing rosier each second you spent eyeing her.
"please.." she muttered in a dragged whine, which caught your attention.
"please what? use your words baby," you pulled away for a second, your tongue slightly perking out from between your lips. teasing her, you flicked her tit erupting a whimper from abby.
"just.. please, fuck me." she whispered. you didn't feel the need to make her spend aloud as that was all you needed. you knew no bounds as you lowered yourself, passing her stomach, her waist and abdomen. thanks to abby, she was already undressed from the moment you walked in, so there was no need to undress her and waste time.
your eye were met with a pretty, lightly trimmed bush above the most irresistible pussy you've ver laid your eyes on. you swab a finger across her clit, passing by her lips and her hole that desperately clenched around nothing. how adorable.
"mmm, so wet.." you hummed at the sight. you breathed onto her skin, the warm air sending rounds of shivers up and down her spine that slightly arched off the bed. she let her hand gently grip onto your hair, although you haven't even worked your magic yet.
you run another finger across her pussy, picking up her liquids and playing with it, circling her needy hole wit her own juices. she squirmed, making you have to hold her down with your less than buff arms. this was going to be a journey.
"hold still baby, i haven't even started." you chuckled, to which she ran her fingers through your messed up locks. you let your tongue fall flat, swiping it along her folds. a quiet moan elicits from her parted lips, trying to contain herself and not let herself go instantly.
you begin to slowly lick at her bud, seeing just how sensitive she was as she squirmed at there touch. you held her in place, slithering your arms around her thighs and over your head. you pick up the pace suddenly, flicking your tongue at an even and steady pace. not too fast and not too slow, just enough for abby to grip a chunk of your hair into a fist and bucking her hips into your face.
abby was melting under your touch, almost every couple seconds she'd whimper quietly, and if you worked hard enough she'd even call your name in that pretty, sultry voice of hers. you wished you'd experienced this sooner.
your nose pokes at her bud while you let your tongue roam around her hole, licking at all her tasty juices like it was fresh, icy water. she whines,
"oh.. ohh..."
abby's eyes gradually develop a rim of tears below her lash line, a tear or two trickling down her freckled cheeks while you relentlessly lapped around her cunt. she bucked into you, giving you a full taste of her as you dove deeper into her trench. your grip on her thighs tightened each time sheared to squirm out of your touch.
"i'm- mfhm.." she kept her eyes on you the entire time, watching as you paid close attention to the area that needed you most. your eyes pull away from her cunt for a second, looking up at those equally as gorgeous eyes that fluttered open and tightly shut when you began to suckle at her clit. she began to shiver, her legs almost squeezing your head to pulp.
"im close.." she managed to say without letting a moan slip, her free hand slapping over her mouth as you continuously lap over her pretty pussy, her hips actively squirming away and bucking into you at the same time. it wasn't like you cared, since all that mattered was how abby was reacting to the way you constantly abused her engorged clit.
you pull away for a second, your head lifting from in between her soaked thighs as you leaned closer to her face.
"suck." you gently demanded before sticking two fingers out for her to have her fun with. you gave her a soft smile, admiring just how irresistible and perfect she looked in this moment, along with her messy braid which concocted of loose strands and hair sticking to her flushed face from sweat. her eyes remained half lidded as she grabbed your wrist with her hand, feeling her trembling when she takes you into her mouth. the warmth of her tongue makes you shiver with delight. she circles her tongue around you, in between your digits and your fingers as a whole. you don't push her in taking in the whole thing, letting her enjoy the feeling of you.
you pull out your fingers from her mouth, your thumb gently caressing her bottom lip in adoration. "good girl," you whisper voice soft as velvet as you lean in to give her a kiss on the lips. all she can do is smile back as you waste no time in diving back between her thighs, prodding at her hole whilst it clenched around nothing yet again.
she's filling up in a matter of seconds. you gently push a finger through, feeling her walls gently tighten around you. another moan escapes from her puffy lips as you circle around her clit that twitched just for you.
"just relax, abby. i know you can take it." you tell her, your words muffled by her hips bucking into you time and time again. your fingers seep deeper into her hole, already beginning to pull in and out at a steady pace. the combination of your swift tongue and your leisurely fingers was enough to make her sob with arousal. you worked her body so well.
abby mumbled curses under her breath as you incessantly began to suck on her clit. she squirms and grinds on your tongue to feel your tastebuds drag on her swollen bud. her moans grew louder with each passing moment, shivering like a helpless wet puppy.
you’re fingers picked up the pace, curling in spots she’d never experimented with before. she arches her back well off the mattress and whines, her gorgeous groans echoing through the spacious room.
“fuck- please, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop.”
she’s close. you can tell from the way abby’s fingers interlock with your locks again, she pulls on it like the reigns of a horse, guiding you where she wants you. licking and sucking and rubbing along all the right places gets her thighs quivering besides your head.
you keep the same pace with your fingers, now evenly pushing them in and out. each thrust covers you fingers with more and more slick as abby moans one final time, her grip on your hair tightening. she pulls on it for you to halt, but you don’t stop.
“please- i can’t take more..”
“yes you can baby, you got one more in you. you got it.”
you whisper, still attacking her clit with your ravishing tongue that kept the same movements. you pushed in and out with your soaked fingers, making it easier to curl upwards and feel the insides of her intensely clenched walls.
she screams in a whine, her eyes welled with tears as she prepares for her second climax. it felt so good, so much better than her just fucking herself. and she knew if she ever got the chance with you, you’d take care of her so well
in a matter of moments, she cums again, back falling flat on the bed. her juices elegantly flow in waves out of her pussy when you slowly pull your fingers out. you’re never seen such a delicious sight. licking one final swab of her cunt, her cum laid generously on the tip of your tongue.
abby was such a mess. her hair sticking to her face and neck, eyes pink from crying, lips puffy from kissing. she’d never looked so beautiful.
“you did so well abby, took me so well.”
you plant a kiss on her forehead, too dazed for her to reciprocate.
all she does is moan in response, earning a chuckle out of you.
she mumbles felt so good under her breath as you pull away to get her cleaned up. wiping at her liquids that generously coated her thighs and her cunt.
—
“hmm, was that good?”
you asked, looking up at her chasmic blue eyes. she seemed deep in thought.
“better than i imagined.” she poked at their previous embarrassing encounter with each other.
“how long have you been… getting off to me?” you ask out of the blue, only realising how strange the question really was when abby gave you a surprised look.
“uh.. well, quite a while actually.” she responds after some time. it’s not a question people get asked often, so she didn’t really know what to say.
“mmhm..” you hum, letting your fingers roam around her chest. the blanket used to cover abby previously was now laid over you both as you rest from the heat of the moment.
“..can i have a turn?”
tbc.
HELLO!!! this is the first thing i’ve properly written since like.. 2 yrs ago or smth LMAO. pls be nice cos ive never written for tlou before and wanted to captivate abby’s personality perfectly!! i hope you enjoyed!! and feedback is appreciated thank u ♡
edit: scissoring will be in pt 2 if y’all were wondering!
dt: louise my realest oomf
word count: 3,284
#abby anderson#tlou x reader#tlou2#abby anderson tlou2#tlou game#tlou smut#tlou part 2#sub abby#soft dom reader#female reader
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Amortentia - Theodore Nott x Reader
Summary: You brew Amortentia and it leads somewhere you didn't ever expect
Words: 1.7k
Warnings: none really
Notes: I am alive I promise, been really busy as we're getting ready to move house
Y/N’s POV
Amortentia. The most powerful love potion in the world. The way many people find their partners in Hogwarts and the most exciting class of the year. Everyone is buzzing around, whispering and giggling with their friends about the vial sat on Professor Slughorn’s desk, left completely unguarded. I take on glance at the shimmering blue liquid and cringe a little before finding the closest seat to the door, throwing my bag on the floor after pulling out the Potions book.
“Hey Y/N,” Harry slides into the seat beside me with his signature unruly black hair and this bright green eyes that seem to hold a hint of mischief and determination, and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. He wears his Gryffindor uniform somewhat neatly, his tie slightly askew adding to this charm.
Ron isn’t far behind, grumbling about the upcoming lesson. His fiery red hair is as untameable as ever, and his freckled face displaying nothing but annoyance as he throws his arms over mine and Harry’s shoulders and letting his knees buckle while pretending to swoon, “Oh Theodore, my love, it youuuuuu-“
“Oh shut up!” I push his arm off my shoulders and he falls with a cry of surprise, Harry trying to catch him but ending up letting Ron fall to snigger behind his hand, “You’re probably going to fall head over heels for Snape… oh Snape, oh how I love thee Sn-“
“Alright, let’s begin this lesson shall we?” Professor Slughorn comes breezing in, not as well as Snape as he’s just too happy for that. Ron squeezes my shoulder before he slinks off to sit in one of the only spaces next to Neville who looks like he would rather be anywhere else.
As the lesson commences, Slughorn goes over the instructions and safety precautions for handling Amortentia. The excitement in the room is palpable as we prepare to brew the potent love potion. The air is filled with a mix of anticipation and trepidation, but I find myself feeling grateful for Harry taking over, using his special edition of the potions book that is full of scribbles and notes presumably making the potion better. The simmering cauldrons and swirling concoctions coming together creates an almost enchanting atmosphere, the scents in the air shifting and blending, giving the room an ethereal quality.
A figure appears over my shoulder, surprise and curiosity coursing through my veins when I recognise that familiar scent of oranges, honeycomb and something darker like amber which can mean only one thing: Theodore Nott is standing behind me. His calm and composed demeanour a little intimidating as I don’t think I’ve ever seen him actually smile more than a very small lift of the corner of his lips. Oh his lips, so plump and flush and-
“How’s the potion going Mouse? Have you blown up-“ He stops abruptly, leaving forwards over my shoulder and taking a very deep breath, causing me to stumble a little over the response I was trying to formulate. His voice is low and husky, sending shivers down my spine at the nickname he calls me.
“Um, it’s, uh, it’s coming along.” I manage to stammer rout, feeling my cheeks heat up, “Haven’t blown anything up… yet.”
Theodore’s lips quirk upward ever so slightly, and I catch a glimpse of what could be a hint of amusement. He leans in a little closer, and I can feel the warmth of his breath against my skin, sending more shivers down my spine, but it’s a delicious kind nervousness, a feeling I can’t quite put into words. Before I can fully process the situation, Theodore buries his nose in the crook of my neck, taking a deep breath. My heart pounds in my chest so loud I’m sure Ron can hear it from across the room, and time seems to slow down. The scents of oranges, honeycomb and amber envelops us, creating an intimate and intoxicating moment.
I can hardly believe that Theodore, the stoic and straight-faced Slytherin, is here, so close to me, and that he’s showing this level of vulnerability. His actions are unexpected but oh so incredibly thrilling. I dare to steal a glance at his face, and I’m met with a sight I’ve never seen before - a softness in his expression, a hint of something more than his usual guarded demeanour. It’s as if he’s letting down his walls, revealing a side of himself he rarely shows to anyone.
My heart races, and I find myself yearning for more of this closeness, more of this connection. It’s like a spell has been cast, and I’m under Theodore’s enchantment. The excitement and nervousness intertwine, and I feel a sense of wonder at the unexpected turn of events, how close he is to me. I can feel his breath ghosting over my lips, knowing that I could just lean forwards ever so slightly and close the near non-existence space between us. The smell of oranges, honeycomb and amber suddenly gets so intense I have to grab the edge of the table and Theodore’s forearm.
“Aha! We did it!” Harry exclaims, breaking the moment and has Theodore pulling back. Theodore’s eyes meet mine, and I see a spark of something familiar and yet different. The air between us crackles with unspoken words, emotions swirling around us like the brewing potions in the classroom.
“Oh god.” I choke out and I think Theodore actually smiles for the first time, the corner of his lips tilting up into more of a smile than he’s ever shown before, “Wh-what do you smell Teddy?”
He leans in once more, his nose brushing against my collarbone and neck. His closeness sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine. And then, he presses a soft, gentle kiss to my jaw, sending shockwaves of sensation through me. It’s a sweet, tender touch that leaves me breathless.
“You.” He whispers, his voice barely audible, but the impact of his words reverberates within me. The world seems to stand still, and my heart swells with emotion.
Theodore Tiberius Nott, the guarded and enigmatic Slytherin, had just confessed, in his own subtle way, that he feels something for me. My cheeks flush with a. Mixture of excitement and disbelief. It’s a moment I never thought I’d experience - being so close to Theodore, sharing this intimate connection, and hearing him express his feelings in such a heartfelt manner. In the heart-stopping moment, I can see the turmoil of emotions playing across his face. His eyes meet mine with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. And then, without warning, he mumbles a single phrase that sets my heart racing even faster.
“Fuck it,” he whispers, and before I can process his intent, his hand cups my jaw, and he draws me up into a kiss. It’s a surprise, but the moment our lips meet, it’s as if everything falls into place.
The kiss is soft yet intense, filled with all the emotions that words can’t express. It feels like an explosion of passion and longing, an unspoken confession that’s now imprinted on our lips. Theodore’s lips are warm and inviting, and I respond with equal fervour, my heart soaring with joy and disbelief. Time seems to stand still, and the air crackles with the intensity of our shared emotions. It's a kiss that speaks volumes, a revelation of hidden desires and unspoken feelings. All the walls Theodore had erected to guard his heart have crumbled, and in this magical moment, he bares himself to me in the most intimate way.
Just as the world around us seems to disappear in the enchantment of the moment, reality crashes back in with an unexpected interruption. Ron, being the protective and ever-observant twin brother, appears out of nowhere and is shoving Theodore away from me.
“Hey! That’s my sister!” Ron’s voice is filled with shock and indignation, “You can’t just go around kissing my sister!”
“Ron!” I can’t help but practically facepalm at him as he’s… he’s being Ron, “Shove off,” I reach around Ron and manage to get a grip on Theodore’s sleeve enough to pull him back over to me. Ron's protectiveness is well-intentioned, but I can't let it ruin the magical moment that Theodore and I just shared.
“I’m not… She’s safe with me, I promise.” Theodore's words are reassuring, and I can see the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks. Despite his usual stoic demeanour, there's a tenderness in his touch as he holds my hand, a silent declaration of his feelings for me.
“I trust him.” I say firmly, giving my brother a pleading look. Ron just looks torn for a moment, clearly struggling between his protective instincts and his trust in me. But then, he takes a deep breath and nods reluctantly.
“Fine.” His says, his voice gruff but accepting, “But if he hurts you in any way, he’ll have me to deal with.” Ron eyes him warily but eventually takes a step back, giving us some space. ”Just remember, Y/N, he's a Slytherin," Ron says, his protective tone still evident.
"He's more than just his house," I reply, trying to convey the depth of my feelings for Theodore.
Ron studies me for a moment before he finally relents. ”Fine," he says, "But don't say I didn't warn you.”
With that, Ron turns and walks away, leaving Theodore and me standing there, still holding hands. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that Ron didn't push the matter further.
“Ahhhh young love.” Slughorn’s voice floats across the room , filled with warmth and nostalgia, and I do the only thing I can: bury my face in Theodore’s sweater, feeling a laugh rumble in his chest.
“Indeed.” Theodore says, his voice laced with amusement as he wraps his arms around me in a gentle embrace. Slughorn giving us an indulgent smile before continuing with the class. The room seeming to take on a different atmosphere now, one that’s tinged with a newfound sweetness and magic. The shimmering cauldrons and swirling potions seem to mirror the emotions swirling within me, and I can’t help but realise how cliche this is. Expressing our feelings for each other during the lesson on amortentia…
“I’ll wait for you after class.” Theodore murmurs, kissing my forehead then my cheek before untangling himself from my embrace before heading back to his seat next to a predictably sneering Draco Malfoy.
“What just happened?’ I ask Harry, a little dazed still, his green eyes sparkling with amusement.
“I’m not actually sure.”
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Everything To Me
summary: Spencer is in love with his coworker and best friend and goes all out to celebrate her birthday on the day after when she catches her boyfriend in bed with another woman when they arrive home from a case.
this is 100% season 1 spencer
warning: cheating, making out, angst/comfort
“(Y/N)! Wait up!” Spencer stumbled, tripping over his feet as he hurried to catch the elevator with his friend. He covered the distance from his desk to the elevator doors in record time as (Y/N) hit the button to presumably hold open the doors for him. He slid in and stood next to her while panting lightly. He really needed to do some cardio, he noted to himself.
“Wow, with speed like that I should start calling you Barry Allen,” she giggled, making Spencer's heart flutter in the best and most terrifying way and drawing a laugh out of his throat (even though he didn’t really get the reference). He couldn't help it when all he could think about was how much he wanted to hear that laugh every day for the rest of his life.
“Sorry,” he flashed a sheepish smile at her and ducked his head a little bit as he felt his cheeks heat up slightly.
“Hey, uh, I was wondering if you had any, uh, any plans for the evening? There’s a Star Trek: The Next Generation marathon and I know that’s your favorite Star Trek series so I was thinking maybe we could hang out and maybe get some takeout?"
"That sounds like it would be a hell of a time," she began. Spencer could already feel the incoming, "but I promised Warren I'd spend the evening with him since it's my birthday and all." Spencer had to keep himself from making a face at the mention of her asshole of a boyfriend, not wanting to upset her, and so instead he opted to skip over that and react to the next part of her statement.
"Wait it's your birthday? Why didn't you say anything? We all would have done something to celebrate before going home today," Spencer started kicking himself internally. How could he not have known today was her birthday? The two of them had become attached at the hip pretty much since she started at the BAU 4 months ago. She had even celebrated his own birthday with him and the rest of the team.
“Hey, it’s okay! You don’t need to feel bad or anything, I tend to just treat my birthday like it’s any other day so I often just don't even tell anyone when it is,” she shot him a sweet smile in an attempt to assure him that it was okay but it didn't make him feel any less guilty.
Spencer's heart sank a bit at the thought of not being able to celebrate (Y/N)'s birthday with her, but he knew Warren was important to her regardless of how much Spencer and the team disliked him. He mustered a smile and nodded, "No worries, spending time with Warren sounds great. Happy birthday, (Y/N). I hope your day is as wonderful as you are."
(Y/N) blushed at the compliment, waving it off modestly. The elevator dinged softly, indicating they had reached the ground floor. As the doors slid open, they stepped out into the bustling lobby of the FBI building. Spencer glanced at his watch and realized it was already late in the evening.
"Well, I should let you get going. Have a fantastic birthday night with Warren," Spencer said, trying to hide his disappointment behind a cheerful facade.
"Thank you, Spencer. I really appreciate it. We should definitely catch that Star Trek marathon another time," she replied with a warm smile before turning to head towards the exit.
Later in the evening, Spencer found himself sitting on his worn-out couch, a container of lukewarm Chinese takeout resting in his lap as he absentmindedly watched reruns of Star Trek. His mind kept wandering back to the encounter in the elevator with (Y/N) earlier that day. The missed opportunity to spend her birthday with her weighed heavily on his heart.
Just as Captain Picard was about to make a diplomatic decision that could change the course of an entire star system, Spencer's phone rang, jolting him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen to see (Y/N)'s name flashing brightly.
With a mixture of confusion and worry, he answered the call. "Hey, (Y/N), is everything okay?" His heart clenched at the sound of her quiet sobs on the other end of the line.
"Spencer," her voice cracked, "can you... can you come pick me up?"
Without another word, Spencer sprang into action. "Of course, (Y/N). I'll be right there. Where are you?" Spencer's voice was filled with concern as he quickly grabbed his keys and rushed out the door, leaving behind the half-eaten container of Chinese takeout and the flickering TV screen showing Star Trek.
As he drove through the quiet streets towards (Y/N)'s location, thoughts raced through Spencer's mind. Why was she crying? What had happened? He couldn't bear the thought of her in distress, especially on her birthday.
Finally reaching the spot where she said she would be, Spencer spotted (Y/N) sitting on a bench outside of a sketchy looking apartment complex, her head buried in her hands. He parked the car and hurried over to her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-streaked face.
"(Y/N), what's wrong?" Spencer knelt down beside her, gently placing a hand on her back. She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, and he felt a crack in his chest
as her trembling voice filled the cool night air.
"I... I waited for Warren at my apartment, but he never showed up or called. I got worried and went to his place," she paused, taking a shuddering breath before continuing, "I let myself in with my key, and... and I found him in bed with another woman."
Shock rippled through Spencer as he struggled to process her words. The image of (Y/N) standing in the doorway of Warren's apartment, witnessing such a betrayal, tore at his heart. Anger flared within him, directed not only at Warren but at the unfairness of it all. How could someone as kind and genuine as (Y/N) be treated so callously?
Without hesitation, Spencer pulled (Y/N) into a tight embrace, offering her solace in the warmth of his arms. He felt her tears soak into his shirt as she clung to him, seeking comfort amidst the storm of emotions raging within her.
As she sobbed into his chest he felt tears pricking his own eyes. He gently cupped her head and started stroking her hair in an attempt to soothe her before saying, “let’s get you into the car, okay?”
As Spencer led (Y/N) to his car, he couldn't shake the image of her devastated face from his mind. The weight of her heartbreak hung heavy in the air, suffocating him with a sense of helplessness. He opened the car door for her, watching as she settled into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.
"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," Spencer murmured softly as he started the engine, casting a sympathetic glance her way. "You deserve so much better than this."
(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. "I should have known better than to get my hopes up. This is why I never celebrate my birthday. It’s more trouble than it’s worth," she confessed, her voice laced with resignation and nothing more than a whisper by the very end. Spencer's heart clenched at her words. He wanted nothing more than to ease her pain, to show her that she deserved all the love and happiness in the world.
"You deserve to be celebrated, (Y/N)," Spencer said with conviction, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light of the car. "No one has the right to make you feel otherwise. You are kind, beautiful, and deserving of all the love and joy that life has to offer."
Spencer's words echoed in (Y/N)'s mind as they drove through the quiet streets of the city, the soft glow of streetlights casting a serene ambiance over the car. The heaviness of her heart began to lift ever so slightly, buoyed by the sincerity in Spencer's eyes and the comfort of his presence beside her.
As they reached a stoplight, Spencer turned to (Y/N) with a tentative smile. "How about we make a detour?" he suggested gently. "There's this little ice cream shop a few blocks away. Maybe some ice cream might help lift your spirits."
(Y/N) managed a small smile in return, touched by Spencer's thoughtfulness. The simple gesture felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds that had gathered around her heart. "That sounds nice," she replied softly, her voice still tinged with sadness but with a glimmer of gratitude shining through.
They parked near the ice cream shop, its cheerful neon sign beckoning them inside. The bell above the door jingled as they stepped in, greeted by the sweet scent of freshly made waffle cones and a colorful display of ice cream flavors. Spencer guided (Y/N) to a cozy booth by the window, where they could watch the world pass by as they indulged in their frozen treats.
As they savored their ice cream, the heaviness in (Y/N)'s heart began to thaw, melting away with each spoonful of creamy sweetness. Spencer listened attentively as she shared snippets of her favorite childhood memories, her voice soft and wistful against the backdrop of cheerful chatter from other customers.
Once they had finished their ice cream, Spencer suggested another detour. "There's this little vintage store down the street that always has some classic movies on sale. How about we pick up one of your favorites and head back to my place to watch it?”
(Y/N) hesitated before saying, “I don’t know about picking up anything from a store but is that Star Trek marathon still on?” The slight amount of hope in her voice made Spencer’s heart flutter with a mix of relief and warmth. He had been longing for a chance to make her smile, to see a glimmer of happiness light up her eyes once more.
Nodding enthusiastically, he replied, "Absolutely! We can swing by the store another time. For now, let's head straight to my place for that Star Trek marathon." The anticipation in (Y/N)'s eyes was palpable as they made their way to Spencer's cozy apartment. The familiar scent of old books and fresh laundry greeted them as they stepped inside, the soft glow of string lights casting a warm ambiance over the living room.
Spencer turned the TV back on, dimming the lights to create a cozy home-theater atmosphere. They settled on the couch, surrounded by plush pillows and soft blankets, basking in the nostalgic thrill of the sci-fi classic unfolding on the screen.
As the episode played on, Spencer got up and reheated the Chinese food from earlier and putting it on plates for each of them. He grabbed himself a fork and got one of the sets of chopsticks from the restaurant for (Y/N). As he made his way back to the living room he saw (Y/N) happily rocking back and forth as she watched Data and Geordi share another one of their intriguing engineering discussions. Spencer couldn't help but smile at the sight, a flicker of contentment lighting up his own heart as he handed (Y/N) the plate with her food and settled back onto the couch beside her.
Between bites of General Tso's chicken and sips of hot tea, Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over him. The soft glow of the TV cast shadows across the room, creating a cocoon of warmth and familiarity around them. The gentle hum of the spaceship's engines on screen seemed to lull them both into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional chuckle or comment about the characters.
After a few episodes, Spencer found himself stealing glances at (Y/N) out of the corner of his eye, admiring the soft curve of her profile as she watched intently. He could see a spark of joy in her eyes, a fleeting moment of escape from the weight of unspoken emotions that lingered between them. Sensing a rare moment of vulnerability, Spencer cleared his throat softly before turning to (Y/N) with a gentle smile.
"Hey, (Y/N)," he began, his voice soft and tentative. "I was wondering... If you could have done anything for your birthday today, what would it have been?"
(Y/N) paused, her gaze shifting from the screen to Spencer. Her expression softened as she considered the question, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "You know, I've always wanted to visit the Smithsonian," she murmured, her eyes distant with longing. "And maybe the Botanic Gardens too... It's on my list of things to do someday."
Spencer nodded, committing her words to memory as he filed away the simple desires she shared. He made a mental note to himself, silently vowing to make those dreams a reality for her someday.
As they finished the last episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, Spencer noticed the clock on the wall ticking closer to midnight. With a sense of reluctance, he turned to (Y/N) and said, "I hate to cut this short, but it's getting late. I should call a cab for you."
(Y/N) looked up at him, a mixture of disappointment and understanding in her eyes. She nodded quietly, gathering her things and slipping on her coat. As Spencer dialed for a cab, he couldn't shake off the feeling of missed opportunities hanging heavy in the air.
The subdued sound of the approaching cab echoed through the quiet street outside. Spencer opened the door for (Y/N), his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. "I'll be picking you up at 11 am tomorrow so be dressed and ready," he said, surprising both himself and (Y/N) with his sudden declaration.
Confusion flashed across her face as she stammered, "But... why? Where are we going?"
"Just make sure you’re ready,” he smiled, ideas blossoming in his mind as he decided he was going to show her what her birthday meant to him. He closed the cab door behind her and waved as the car drove off before turning on his heel and heading back inside, preparing to show his best friend the time of her life tomorrow.
Spencer woke up at 8 am the next morning to the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, illuminating his room in a golden hue. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stretched his arms above his head and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Today was going to be special; he was determined to make it a day that (Y/N) would never forget.
Remembering her mention once that morning glories were her favorite flower, Spencer decided to start by weaving a delicate flower crown out of the vibrant blooms he had picked from his backyard garden. As he carefully intertwined the petals and vines into a crown fit for a queen, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of seeing (Y/N) wear it.
After finishing the flower crown, Spencer's thoughts drifted to a memory she had shared with him long ago. Before her parents had passed away, they used to build her a pillow fort and hang fairy lights in it on special occasions. Determined to recreate that sense of childhood magic for her, Spencer set about constructing a fort in his living room. He gathered every pillow and blanket he could find, stacking them strategically to form the walls of the fort. With a bit of effort and creativity, he managed to fashion an elaborate yet cozy hideaway filled with soft cushions and twinkling fairy lights. His PhD in Engineering was finally seeing some use.
As he stepped back to admire his handiwork, Spencer's heart swelled with a mix of emotions. The soft glow of the lights cast a warm, inviting aura over the fort, creating an atmosphere of whimsy and nostalgia. He could almost picture the look of wonder on (Y/N)'s face when she saw it, and the thought filled him with a sense of anticipation.
With the fort completed, Spencer glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time to pick up (Y/N). Quickly changing into a clean shirt and vest and grabbing the flower crown he had made earlier, he made his way out the door, excitement bubbling in his chest.
As he drove to (Y/N)'s apartment, Spencer's mind was a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. He parked the car a few blocks away, wanting to give himself a moment to compose himself before their day together began. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out onto the sidewalk and started the short walk to her building.
The street was alive with the sounds of the city waking up - the distant hum of traffic, the chatter of early risers going about their day. But in Spencer's mind, all he could focus on was the image of (Y/N) in his mind, wearing the flower crown he had made for her.
Finally reaching her apartment building, he climbed the steps to her floor, his heart pounding in his chest. Standing in front of her door, he took one last deep breath before lifting his hand to knock.
The sound echoed through the hallway, reverberating in Spencer's ears as he waited with bated breath. After what felt like an eternity, he heard footsteps approaching from inside the apartment. The soft shuffling of footsteps grew louder, and Spencer's pulse quickened in anticipation. Suddenly, the gentle click of the door being unlocked filled the air, and it slowly swung open to reveal (Y/N) standing before him.
She looked breathtaking. (Y/N) was wearing a simple yet elegant dress with cute buttons lining the front and a delicate peter pan collar. Her chin length bob was slightly curved under her chin and her bangs fell across her forehead in such a perfect way and Spencer looked away quickly, his cheeks burning when he realized he was staring. For a moment, they stood there in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions.
Then, Spencer slowly brought forward the flower crown he had hidden behind his back, holding it out towards (Y/N) with a shaky hand. “Happy birthday," he finally whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he nervously offered her the crown. The soft petals of the flowers brushed against her fingertips, and (Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise and delight as she took the flower crown from Spencer's hand. A small gasp escaped her lips as she held the delicate creation, a mix of awe and gratitude shining in her eyes as she looked up at him.
"Spencer, it's beautiful," she murmured as she gently placed it atop her head, her voice soft with emotion. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow that illuminated her features, making her look even more ethereal. In that moment, caught in the gentle morning light, Spencer felt a swell of affection for her that threatened to overwhelm him.
After a beat of silence filled with unspoken words hanging in the air between them, Spencer cleared his throat and offered a hesitant smile. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, his heart beating a little faster at the prospect of spending the day with her.
(Y/N) returned his smile with a nod, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she looped her arm through his, the flower crown perched delicately on her head. They strolled down the bustling street, the city waking up around them with a cacophony of sounds and scents. Spencer couldn't help but steal glances at (Y/N), her presence beside him filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt before.
Their first stop was a cozy bookshop just across the street from her apartment building. The bell above the door chimed softly as they entered, and the scent of aged paper and ink enveloped them in a comforting embrace. Rows upon rows of books lined the shelves, each one whispering promises of new worlds and adventures.
"Pick out as many as you'd like," Spencer said, gesturing to the endless array of titles surrounding them. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she wandered through the aisles, her fingers trailing over spines in search of stories. He watched as she made her way through the shelves until she reached the SciFi/Fantasy and Horror section and begin removing books from the shelves, reading the backs and either adding them to the stack in her arms or placing them back on the shelves.
Spencer couldn't help but admire the way (Y/N) immersed herself in the world of books, her eyes alight with a passion that made her even more enchanting. She moved with purpose, carefully selecting each book as if it held a piece of her soul within its pages. His heart swelled with fondness for her, her love for literature reflecting a depth to her character that he found endlessly captivating.
As (Y/N) returned back to him, her arms filled with a stack of books that seemed to reach towards the sky, she gave him a sheepish smile. "I might have gotten a bit carried away," she admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Could you help me narrow things down a little bit?”
Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement. "No need to apologize. Let's see what treasures you've found," he said, reaching out to take a few books from her arms. Together, they perused the titles she had chosen, discussing the plots and themes. After they had no luck in narrowing down the pile, Spencer scooped them all up into his arms in a stack and began making his way to the checkout stand.
"Why bother narrowing it down?" Spencer's voice was filled with a playful lilt as he carried the stack of books towards the checkout counter, (Y/N) trailing behind him with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Impressive selection," the bookstore clerk commented as he rung up the stack of books, each title a window into (Y/N)'s interests and desires. (Y/N) beamed at the compliment, her eyes shining with confusion and gratitude as Spencer pulled out his wallet and paid before she could even reach for her own from her bag.
As they left the bookshop, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the crowded streets. The sounds of the city swirled around them—honking cars, lively chatter, and the distant rumble of a passing train. Spencer glanced over at (Y/N) walking beside him, her face illuminated by a soft radiance.
(Y/N) quickly unlocked the door and placed the bags of books onto her dining room table before they walked back outside. Spencer patiently waited as she locked her door before holding his arm out again for her to grab on to as he lead her to his car.
As they arrived at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, Spencer's steps were light with anticipation. The air was alive with the promise of discovery, and he couldn't wait to share this world of wonders with (Y/N). The museum loomed before them like a giant treasure trove, its grand architecture a testament to human ingenuity and ambition.
Stepping inside, they were greeted by a vast hall filled with aircraft suspended from the ceiling like metallic birds frozen in flight. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in awe, her gaze flitting from one exhibit to another as Spencer led her through the maze of history and innovation.
"This is the Wright Flyer," Spencer said, pointing towards the iconic biplane that started it all. "It's incredible to think that this simple machine paved the way for all modern aviation."
As they moved deeper into the museum, Spencer's voice became a gentle murmur of knowledge and passion. He regaled (Y/N) with stories of astronauts who dared to venture beyond Earth's atmosphere and the technological advancements that made it all possible. (Y/N) listened with rapt attention, her eyes shimmering with wonder and admiration for both the exhibits and the man beside her.
Each artifact held a story, a piece of history waiting to be unraveled. Spencer's explanations brought life to the static displays, turning them into vibrant tales of human courage and scientific progress. He pointed out the intricate details of each spacecraft, each spacesuit, each photograph, as if they were sacred relics in a grand temple of human achievement.
As they entered the lunar module exhibit, (Y/N) gasped in awe at the sight of the actual spacecraft that had touched the surface of the moon as well as a piece of rock from the moon that was free for visitors to touch. She reached out a hand as if to touch it, but stopped herself, as if afraid to disturb the fragile connection between past and present.
Spencer noticed her hesitation and smiled softly. "It's okay, you can touch it," he encouraged. "Feel the history in your fingers."
(Y/N) tentatively reached out and brushed her fingertips against the cool, pitted surface of the moon rock. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass through her as she made contact, connecting her to a distant world that had once seemed so unreachable. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the weight of history and the magnitude of human achievement.
Spencer watched her with a mix of admiration and fondness, his heart swelling with a bittersweet ache at the sight of her emotional response. He longed to reach out and comfort her, to share in this moment of vulnerability and connection, but he held back, knowing that some experiences were meant to be felt in solitude.
As they moved on to the space shuttle exhibit, Spencer's voice took on a reverent tone as he explained the intricacies of space travel and the courage of those who dared to venture into the unknown. (Y/N) listened intently, hanging onto his every word as if they were precious treasures. The stories of the astronauts and their daring adventures resonated with her in a way she couldn't quite explain. It was as if each tale of exploration and discovery tugged at something deep within her, awakening a yearning for the stars that had long been dormant.
After exploring the wonders of the cosmos in the Air and Space Museum, Spencer suggested they visit the Museum of Natural History next. (Y/N) eagerly agreed, her curiosity piqued by the promise of delving into the mysteries of the natural world.
The moment they stepped into the museum, a wave of earthy scents enveloped them—the musty aroma of ancient fossils, the fresh green fragrance of preserved plants, and the tangy scent of minerals. (Y/N) took a deep breath, savoring the rich tapestry of odors that surrounded her as they ventured deeper into the exhibits.
Spencer guided her through halls filled with towering skeletons of dinosaurs, exotic taxidermy specimens, and sparkling gemstones that seemed to whisper tales of ancient worlds and forgotten creatures. His voice, now a gentle hum of fascination, wove intricate stories of the natural wonders before them, each exhibit a chapter in the never-ending book of Earth's history.
With every step, (Y/N) felt herself being transported back in time, her senses overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and scents of a world long gone yet preserved within the walls of the museum. She marveled at the sheer diversity of life that had once inhabited the planet, from the majestic bones of a towering T-Rex to the delicate wings of a butterfly frozen in time.
As they reached the Butterfly Pavilion, (Y/N)'s eyes lit up with childlike excitement. She walked among the lush greenery, her fingers gently trailing over velvety leaves and vibrant petals as she inspected each plant with keen interest. Spencer watched her with a soft smile, his admiration for her knowledge and passion shining in his eyes.
"It’s like stepping into a living kaleidoscope," (Y/N) breathed, her voice hushed with wonder. "Each butterfly and moth, every plant here tells a story of adaptation and survival. Look at this one," she gestured to a plump monarch butterfly sipping nectar from a bright orange bloom, "did you know they migrate for thousands of miles to escape the cold?"
Spencer was happy to listen intently to her spout knowledge that he already held, captivated by the gleam in her eyes and the animated gestures that accompanied each explanation. He found himself falling even more deeply under her spell as she shared her wealth of knowledge, her voice growing more animated with each tidbit of information.
As they wandered through the pavilion, (Y/N) pointed out the intricate patterns on the butterflies' wings, explaining their purpose and significance with a mix of scientific precision and unbridled enthusiasm. Spencer couldn't help but be swept up in her passion, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of her so fully immersed in her element. Her rarely used PhDs in Botany and Microbiology shone brightly through her words and actions as she explained the importance of every living thing within the enclosure down to the network of fungal mycelium in the dirt, making Spencer see her in a whole new light. The way she spoke about each species of butterfly or moth, each plant or fungus they saw, showcased not only her expertise but also her deep love and respect for the natural world.
Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word, just as she had done with his tales of space exploration earlier. He admired the way her eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her hands gestured animatedly as if conducting a symphony of knowledge and wonder.
As they reached a secluded corner of the pavilion, (Y/N) knelt down beside a cluster of milkweed plants, her voice soft and reverent as she explained their importance to the monarch butterflies. Spencer watched her intently, a sense of peace settling over him as he observed her in her element. He then checked his watch, his eyes widening in realization as he saw the time. They were going to be late for the dinner reservation he had managed to secure at the new Italian restaurant (Y/N) had been longing to try for months. With a gentle touch on her shoulder, Spencer interrupted her explanation about the symbiotic relationship between the milkweed plants and monarch butterflies.
"(Y/N), as much as I hate to interrupt your fascinating lesson, we should start heading out. We have a dinner reservation," Spencer said apologetically, a hint of regret in his tone.
Startled by the mention of dinner, (Y/N) straightened up, her eyes widening in surprise before a sheepish smile crossed her face. "Oh gosh, I completely lost track of time! I'm so sorry, Spencer. Let's go."
They hurried through the Butterfly Pavilion, their steps quickening as they made their way to the exit. Spencer opened the passenger door for her as they approached his car, and they soon found themselves seated inside as Spencer started the engine. The warmth of the setting sun bathed the interior in a golden glow, casting long shadows across (Y/N)'s face as she fastened her seatbelt. She glanced over at Spencer, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and anticipation for the evening ahead.
The drive to the Italian restaurant was filled with comfortable silence, the only sound the soft hum of the radio playing a mellow jazz tune in the background. Spencer stole glances at (Y/N) from time to time, admiring how the fading light accentuated her features, casting her in a soft, ethereal glow.
Arriving at the restaurant, they were greeted by the tantalizing aroma of garlic and tomato sauce wafting through the air. The cozy ambiance of the place enveloped them as they were led to their table, nestled in a corner with a flickering candle casting dancing shadows on their faces.
As they perused the menu, (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight as she scanned the offerings, her excitement palpable. Spencer couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the romantic candlelight surrounding them. This moment, this simple act of sharing a meal with her, felt like a glimpse into the life he had always wanted but never dared to reach for.
Their conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and shared stories. (Y/N)'s eyes sparkled with joy as she recounted a hilarious mishap at work, and Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word once again. It was moments like these that made him forget about his own worries and fears, immersing himself in the present moment.
As the waiter brought out their food, the table was soon filled with plates of steaming pasta and fragrant sauces. The first bite sent a burst of flavors dancing on (Y/N)'s tongue, and she couldn't help but close her eyes in bliss. Spencer watched her savor each mouthful, her expression a symphony of delight and contentment. The flickering candlelight played on her face, accentuating the curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.
Spencer's gaze lingered on her, a sense of longing tugging at his heart. He wanted to freeze this moment in time, to etch it into his memory forever. The warmth of the restaurant, the soft glow of the candle, the sound of (Y/N)'s laughter – all of it wove together into a tapestry of perfect happiness.
But beneath the surface of their shared joy, Spencer felt a pang of bittersweet realization. This was just a moment, a fleeting interlude in their lives. Tomorrow, they would return to their separate paths, their separate dreams.
As (Y/N) reached for her glass of wine, her hand brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Their eyes met, and in that brief moment of connection, Spencer felt a surge of courage wash over him. As they finished their meals, the waiter returned to their table with a flourish, presenting a tray of decadent desserts that Spencer had secretly ordered while (Y/N) was in the bathroom. A smile played on his lips as he watched her eyes widen in surprise and delight at the unexpected treat.
"Spencer, you didn't have to do this," she murmured, her voice soft with gratitude.
"It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone gentle yet tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Would you like to enjoy it here or take it to go and eat it while watching something?"
(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between the cozy restaurant ambiance and the promise of a quiet moment elsewhere. After a brief pause, she decided, "Let's take it to go."
Spencer nodded in agreement and politely requested the bill. As he settled the payment, a sense of resolve settled in him, guiding his actions as they left the restaurant. The cool night air caressed their skin as they walked towards Spencer's car parked just around the corner. He opened the passenger door for her, a gesture that was both chivalrous and intimate.
As they drove through the city streets, (Y/N) couldn't shake off the feeling of curiosity that gnawed at her mind. Why were they headed to Spencer's apartment instead of hers, as she had anticipated? Her thoughts raced, trying to find an explanation for this unexpected turn of events.
Upon arriving at his apartment building, Spencer handed her the to-go boxes with their desserts before unlocking the door. A sense of bewilderment washed over (Y/N) as she followed him inside. Before she could voice her confusion, Spencer moved behind her and gently covered her eyes with his hands, guiding her further into his apartment.
The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air as (Y/N) let herself be led by Spencer through the dimly lit hallway. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and curiosity, her trust in him unwavering as he guided her with careful steps. The soft shuffle of their feet echoed in the corridor, creating a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her own pulse.
After what felt like an eternity of darkness behind her closed eyelids, Spencer's hands finally left (Y/N)'s eyes, revealing a mesmerizing sight before her. As she blinked away the temporary blindness, a gasp escaped her lips at the magical scene that unfolded in front of her.
The room was transformed into a whimsical wonderland – an elaborate pillow fort stretched across the space, twinkling with fairy lights that cast a warm, inviting glow. Soft blankets cascaded down like waterfalls, creating nooks and crannies that held the promise of cozy comfort. The air was scented with old books, eucalyptus, and lavender, adding to the ethereal atmosphere that surrounded them.
Spencer watched (Y/N) with bated breath as she took in the sight before her. The flickering lights danced across her face, illuminating the awe and wonder reflected in her eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, suspended between reality and a dream.
"Happy birthday, (Y/N)," Spencer's voice was barely a whisper, filled with a vulnerability that he had never dared to show before.
Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes, moved by the effort and thoughtfulness he had put into creating this enchanting surprise. She turned to face him, her heart overflowing with emotions she struggled to put into words.
"Spencer, this is... it's perfect," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with emotion. She reached out to grasp his hand, holding onto it as though afraid this magical moment would slip away if she let go.
As they settled into the cocoon of blankets and pillows, Spencer grabbed his laptop from his desk and popped a DVD into the disc player. The opening to a movie he had never seen but had heard her talk about multiple times, Clueless, played in the background but all he could do was look at her. Under the twinkling of the fairy lights he could almost swear she had to be a fairy herself. That’s the only thing he could think of that would explain her beauty.
As the movie played on (Y/N) explained to Spencer that it was actually an adaptation of her favorite novel by Jane Austen, Emma, which did little to make him feel the main character was more likeable but watching her happily chatter about the movie filled him with a sense of comfort and affection. This is how it should always be, he thought to himself, wrapping his arms around her as she settled against his chest.
They sat and cuddled in a comfortable silence until it was broken by her voice, soft and timid as she said, “hey Spence?”
“Hm?” He hummed into her hair, his eyes closed.
“Why did you do all of this?” She queried, sounding like she was on the verge of tears, which immediately pulled Spencer from his half asleep haze.
Spencer thought about his next words carefully, taking so long that (Y/N) was about to ask if he had fallen asleep before he finally responded. “After seeing you so heartbroken last night and seeing how Warren just tossed you aside like you didn’t matter I just felt like I should show you how much it means to me that you exist." His voice was gentle, barely a whisper as he confessed the depth of his feelings for her.
(Y/N) felt her breath catch in her throat at his words. The vulnerability in his voice touched her heart in a way she had never experienced before. She turned to look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and care reflected back at her.
Tears glistened in her eyes as she reflexively leaned into his hand as he reached to cup her cheek, caressing it with a tenderness that spoke volumes. "Spencer," she murmured, her voice filled with emotion, "you didn’t have to—I’m not worth all this—I-I don’t—"
He placed a finger on her lips, silencing her words. "That’s what I’ve spent all day trying to show you, (Y/N). You are worth it. You are worth everything to me," he whispered, his gaze unwavering.
In that moment, (Y/N) felt a rush of emotions swell within her, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. Her heart pounded in her chest as she gazed into Spencer's eyes, seeing a depth of love and sincerity that she had never expected to find. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.
As they sat there, suspended in time, (Y/N) felt a gentle tug at her heart urging her to lean forward. She hesitated for a moment, uncertainty clouding her mind as she debated the implications of such a gesture. Could she allow herself to be vulnerable again after everything she had been through? Was it worth risking her heart for the possibility of something more?
But before she could overthink it any further, Spencer's gaze softened even more as he leaned in towards her. In the briefest moment of hesitation, his lips hovered centimeters away from hers, silently asking for permission. And just as he began to pull back, (Y/N) plunged forward, closing the distance between them as she pressed her lips against Spencer's. It was a tender, tentative kiss filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had lingered between them for so long. The world seemed to stand still as they shared this intimate moment, their hearts beating in harmony.
Spencer was momentarily stunned by the sudden turn of events, but as he felt (Y/N)'s warmth against his lips, all doubts and insecurities melted away. When they finally pulled away, they were both met with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. There was a charged energy in the air, a newfound connection that sparked between them like a flame igniting in the darkness.
"(Y/N)," Spencer whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he searched her eyes for confirmation.
(Y/N) simply smiled, a radiant expression that lit up her face with joy and relief. “I love you, Spencer,” falls from her lips before she crashes them back against his.
#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x you#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#light angst#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds fanfic
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Soft Matter
Abby Anderson x F!Reader
Ways to help Palestine
Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist
Summary: Abby wakes you up in the best way possible.
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, established relationship, somnophilia, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering, squirting, pet names (pretty girl, baby), no use of y/n
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs
The morning sunlight peeks in through the open window. The curtains pillow in the gentle breeze but other than that everything is quiet and still. Abby rolls over on her side, propping her head up with her hand, admiring how peaceful you look. Your chest rises and falls like clockwork, lashes fanned out against your face as you sleep. The sunlight hits the high points of your face. It’s a sight pretty enough for a picture; little moments like this together after a night of tangled up sheets and intertwined limbs. A night that ended with you pressed up against her side, resting your head on her chest as she drew little circles on your skin with her fingers.
It doesn’t take long for those thoughts to settle in, though. Her hand runs along your outline, fingers stopping at the edge of your panties and fiddling with the lacy fabric. She knows what she wants and she’ll get it, even when you’re asleep. Not that you mind. She’s done this countless times before and this morning is no different.
She inches down on the bed, getting under the blanket, moving ever so carefully to be sure not to wake you up just yet. She spreads your legs apart, pushing your panties to the side as she runs her fingers along your entrance. You’re already wet, presumably from the dream you’re having. Because all of a sudden she stops in her tracks, listening carefully to the soft sounds you make. You’re moaning, the sweet sound so melodic to her ears. She’s caught between wanting to observe you for a while and see what other kinds of sounds you might make in your sleep, but she also wants to feel you coming around her fingers already.
She places two fingers in her mouth, getting them nice and slick for you before gently inserting her pointer finger inside you. She sighs at the familiar feeling as your warmth envelops her finger.
Warm. Soft. Wet. Heavenly.
She curls her finger, gently playing with you as your moans pick up. You stir in your sleep, not awake just yet but the sleepiness is slipping away. She slides her middle finger in, feeling as your walls expand to accommodate the newfound thickness.
And with that, you finally awaken with a sharp inhale followed by a gasp.
“Abby!” you breathe out, voice already high pitched from the pleasure built up. You move the blanket to expose her situated between your thighs, fingers buried in your pussy.
“Thanks. I was getting kinda hot under there,” she chuckles.
“How long have you been doing that?”
“Not that long. You were moaning in your sleep and I wanted to see how long you would do that for. But then I got impatient.”
“…I was moaning?”
“Mhm. You were, pretty girl.”
“Oh…”
“You wanna tell me what you were dreaming about, baby?”
“Uhh… it’s not too far off from this,” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
“I bet,” she chuckles. Her face breaks out into a smile and the sunlight hits her face perfectly, lighting up her eyes and the freckles on her face. Her nose is scrunched as she smiles at you, watching the way you pant and whine for more.
She pulls her fingers from you much to your chagrin. But it’s just to pull your panties off, tossing them on the floor. She returns her fingers inside you but this time she puts her mouth on your clit, tongue flicking around it as her other arm wraps around your thigh. She tries to keep you still but it feels too good. Your back arches off the bed and you writhe under her grasp.
Your orgasm is nearing and Abby feels it. Your walls tense up in anticipation of a release and your bedroom is filled with the wet, squelching sounds as her fingers pump in and out of you.
“Abby, I’m gonna cum,” you whine. But she doesn’t dare pull her mouth off your clit, not when you’re so close. Instead, she hums against you, sending you over the edge. One of your hands grips the sheets for purchase and the other reaches between your legs, tangling your fingers in Abby’s messy braid. She moans into you, a visceral one at that. It makes her keep going, fingers still curling against your g-spot. You wonder what she’s going for. Maybe overstimulation?
Or maybe she’s trying to get you to squirt.
“Abby?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows.
“Hm?” she says, tearing her face away from your cunt to look up at you. The lower half of her face is already glistening.
“Are you… Are you trying to get me to squirt?” you ask between shaky breaths as your orgasm ebbs and flows.
“I’ll change the sheets,” she says quickly, looking at you with pleading eyes.
“Go for it,” you say with a smirk, half sighing as you settle into the bed again.
“As long as you keep making those sounds for me, pretty girl,” she says before her mouth is immediately on your clit again, fingers working overtime as she builds you up again. Her eyes don’t leave you, watching the way your chest rises and falls rapidly, the way your mouth forms into a soft O, and the way your nipples perk up against your thin sleep t-shirt. You return your hand to her hair, gripping at the loose braid as you whimper and shiver.
She hums into you again, marveling at your taste and the sheer amount of wetness you’ve already produced. With one last come here motion of her fingers and flick of her tongue around her clit, you cum, harder and wetter than the last one. She succeeds in making you squirt because you feel wetness run down your thighs and pool beneath you. Stars dance in your vision, looking down as Abby laps up the wetness you just produced.
She pulls her fingers from you and hooks both arms around your thighs, keeping you flush against her face as she licks you. Your orgasm starts to subside and she finishes her morning meal, moving to rest beside you.
“Good morning,” you say, voice still breathy.
“Good morning,” she chuckles, pulling you into her chest.
Her hand fingers make swirls against your skin and after a beat of silence she says, “…Maybe we could have some more fun in the shower?”
You let out a faux sigh in annoyance before laughing and getting up out of bed. You pull off your t-shirt, playfully tossing it at her. Her jaw falls open as your chest becomes exposed.
“Fine. I’ll go turn on the water but you have to strip the bed. I’m holding you to that!” you say.
You turn on your heel and walk out of the bedroom with a sway of your hips.
You hear her scramble to her feet behind you.
“Be right there!”
#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x you#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson fanfiction#abby anderson#abby anderson x f!reader#the last of us fanfiction#tlou#tlou 2
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'The Love Shack'
Part V - The Fault Is Ours
Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22)
Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI
Part V Summary: You'd prepared for Neteyam's upset, prepared for his anger, but what you hadn't prepared for or even anticipated was his complete and total disregard for you...
Word count: 13.7k
Series content: Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome, smut, sex toy play, squirting, anal sex, kuru play
Read Part I, II, III and IV in my Masterlist HERE
Author's Note:
My darling lovelies, I present to you the finale Chapter 5 of this series. 🥰 I never thought I'd write anything else after 'Violet Eyes', but lo and behold, here I am at the end of my fifth series. And it's honestly all thanks to you wonderful folk in this community who have supported me & brought me so much enjoyment. Without further do, enjoy this finale!
***~~~***
“I could ask you the same thing! What the fuck are you playing at?”
Lo’ak’s words rang in your ears and looped over and over in your stunned mind. Shaken and upset by Neteyam’s abrupt exit, your words had forsaken you and you’d been unable to offer immediate any answer to Lo’ak’s question apart from meekly muttered apologies.
It had very quickly dawned on you that whilst Lo’ak appeared as confused as you were, he and you were not at all confused about the same thing. You were reeling at his brother’s upset, whereas he appeared to be upset with you and confused by your actions.
You were alone in the play area currently. Lo’ak had gone into the shack’s main area to find some space and presumably warm some water for clean-up. You’d always had one of the brothers, usually Neteyam, to burrow against and snuggle up to while the other prepped the necessary things for clean-up and aftercare. The solitude tonight was new and it was unpleasant.
With Neteyam’s heated departure and Lo’ak’s apparent irritation, you felt cold, confused and abandoned.
Fat teardrops squeezed from between your lashes where you sat on folded legs on the bed, hunched over and hugging yourself. Your kept your snuffles as quiet as possible. You always felt vulnerable and frazzled after a session with the brothers. Once the extreme highs of sex and pleasure play had diminished, you were often thrown into a hormonal slump that left you feeling exposed and in need of comfort. There was no comfort today.
Neteyam had stormed off and now Lo’ak was angry with you too… You’d just wanted a parting kiss from each of them…
Your arms were crossed over your front and your fingernails dug into the flesh of your upper arms as you cried. The entire space still smelled of the activities you had engaged in with the brothers, and the scent was suddenly suffocating.
Eywa, tonight’s session had ended in disorientation and disaster… You should’ve listened to your mind’s cautioning earlier… You should’ve just said your piece and left…
Deciding it was probably best for you to leave, you crawled to the edge of the bed and stood on wobbly legs. Finding your chest covering on the floor, you secured it again over your breasts, fingers fumbling clumsily with the ties. Eyes still blurry from your tears, you swiped a hand over your face and continued to look for your loincloth.
Lo’ak re-entered the space with some cloths and a bowl of warm water. He took in your trembling and tearful state as you attempted to dress yourself again, and he sighed, “Hey, where are you going? Stop.”
“I think I should go. “You mumbled. You refused to meet his eyes, keeping your head downturned with your chin tucked against your chest, “I didn’t mean to upset you both.”
Setting down the things he was carrying, Lo’ak stopped you trying to pull your loincloth up your legs, “No, lie back down. We still need to get you cleaned up. I’m not letting you leave like this. Eywa, look at you.”
The sticky mess between your legs was trickling down your thighs. Your skin was damp with sweat and your nose was running from your tears. When you ignored his words and twisted out of his gentle hold, the remainder of Lo’ak’s patience snapped. With a growl, he took hold of you by your waist and hauled you back onto the soft bedding despite your rueful cries to leave you be.
Lo’ak watched as you curled onto your side, sobbing into your hands. He was still annoyed at what you’d done earlier, but he also recognised the emotional mess you were in after their play session. It was also obvious to him that you didn’t understand what had caused Neteyam’s upset. With another bone-weary sigh, he wet several small cloths in the bowl he’d brought in and wrung them dry.
“Shh, sweet thing. Come on, let me clean you up.” Lo’ak coaxed, gentling his voice.
He crawled onto the bedding next to you and tenderly parted your knees to sweep the cloth up your thighs and between them. Taking the other warm cloth, he folded it and placed it over your core, knowing the warmth of it would soothe the temporary swelling from their session. He wiped you down with a third cloth, the moist warmth of it smoothing over your belly, back and upper arms. He gently pried your hands from your face and he cleaned them too before dabbing at your face last.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice was an unhappy squeak.
Putting the cleaning cloths aside, Lo’ak tucked himself behind your curled form, spooning you. He tucked an arm around your waist and pulled you to him, “Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”
“For upsetting you both.”
“Do you know why Neteyam took off and why I’m upset too?”
You considered his question. Great Mother, Neteyam had been furious… Things were strained enough already between the two of you and now it felt like things had broken down even further. And you’d simply kissed Lo’ak… You didn’t understand his recoil either…
You shook your head, fighting back another swelling bout of emotion, “No.”
Lo’ak cursed softly. He kept his arm around you though, wanting to soothe you still despite his frustration with you, with his brother, with the whole situation. He began measuredly, “I’m going to say my piece and I’m only going to say it once, because this whole thing, this we-don’t-talk-about-feelings shit, that you and Neteyam have going on is getting ridiculous.”
You sniffed softly, pawing at your eyes again when more unwanted tears poured forth, “Feelings can’t come into this. This arrangement was physical only.”
“Does that change the fact that they exist?” Lo’ak asked. Knowing you wouldn’t see as you were facing away from him, he gave an emphatic roll of his eyes, “Look, I know you have feelings for my brother, and I don’t think I’m speaking out of turn here because I feel like you know this already, but Neteyam returns those feelings.”
You shifted, rolling onto your back so you could scowl at him, “Where are you going with this? What does it matter?”
Lo’ak propped his head up on his elbow, responding with a glower of his own, “It matters because the bond that you share is sincere! There’s meaning there. What you and I share? That’s purely physical; just sex and body play. If you kiss me it’s because you enjoy the sensation, but there’s no meaning there.”
“So that’s why you’re angry? Because I kissed you and it doesn’t mean anything?”
An exasperated hiss left Lo’ak, his irritation rising again, “No! I’m upset because Neteyam is upset! You upset my brother, you upset me. That’s how this works.”
You could match his rising temper, however. Sick of the confusion you felt and just wanting Lo’ak to speak plainly, you spat, “So why is Neteyam upset? Things were going fine and then he decided to throw a tantrum!”
“Because you kissed me!” Lo’ak howled, frustrated by how something so simple in his eyes was so oblivious to you. Fine, he’d spell it out for you, “You said no kissing. That was the boundary that you set. You’ve denied my brother’s attempts to cross that line for weeks now. You denied him again tonight even when he asked to kiss you, and then you suddenly decide after it all to kiss me?!”
Realisation flooded you at how your actions had appeared and you were quick to refute the misunderstanding, “No! It’s not what it looks like! I wanted to kiss both of you one last time. You just happened to be closest. I was facing you so I kissed you first! But I would’ve kissed Neteyam next!”
Lo’ak emitted a miserable groan and flopped onto his back, pressing the fingers of one hand into his eyes, “Fuck, you should’ve kissed my brother first.”
You groaned and your hands flew to your face again in distress, “Great Mother, what a mess. Tell him for me when you see him? Tell him I wasn’t doing it intentionally to spite him?”
Peering through your fingers, you saw Lo’ak fix you with an incredulous expression, “I won’t be telling him anything. You’re going to explain yourself to him and the both of you are going to talk. Properly. Honestly.”
“I’ll apologise and explain what happened, but there’s nothing else to talk about.”
With a scathing laugh, Lo’ak rounded on you again, “You know that’s such bullshit, Neyomi. I know you’re in love with him.”
It was the truth. You knew it within yourself, had known it for so long now, but to hear it called out so openly by Lo’ak was a shock to your psyche. It felt like his utterance of the words had willed it into a truth so solid that no matter how much you wanted to deny it to salvage what was left of your heart, you couldn’t.
“He told me what happened that night at the hot spring, about how you denied his affection and pushed him away after. That really cut him deep.” Lo’ak added, and his tone was woeful.
Bitterly, you moved to sit upright so you could look at Lo’ak square in the eyes. You glared at him, cursing the tears that pooled in your eyes and threatened the spill, “So, what? You want me to tell Neteyam how I feel. Apologise for pushing him away, pour out my soul, and break my heart over a man I can never have?”
Understanding washed over Lo’ak at your words. There it was. The reason that had prompted your sudden change in behaviour over the last couple of moons. He’d known it wasn’t because you’d had a change of heart. You were only trying to protect yourself. Lo’ak thought of his brother’s stubbornness then, of Kiri, and their grandmother’s approval of the proposed arrangement. He chuckled.
You frowned at Lo’ak’s quiet laughter, feeling indignant and wondering if he really was cruel enough to be laughing at you right now. You hissed harshly, “It’s not funny.”
“No, no! I’m not laughing at you. It’s just this whole situation could be so easily solved if you and Neteyam actually put your egos aside to talk.” Lo’ak quickly reassured and he shook his head at you mildly with a final huff of laughter, “If there was a chance you could be with my brother, would you take it?”
Your face was still pulled deep in a frown, but the points of your ears twitched in sceptical interest, “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
Lo’ak licked his lips and ground his teeth together. It wasn’t his place to say. The arrangement was a formal one and until it was officially announced by the tsahìk, it was not to be spoken of. Clan formalities had to be observed by all and Neteyam had technically broken the rules by telling him about it.
“My grandmother is going to make a formal announcement to the clan tomorrow night at communal last meal.” Lo’ak said, and there was a particular note in his inflection that urged you to listen, that told you what he was telling you was significant, “If you truly care for my brother, you’ll speak to him afterward and you’ll tell him the truth of how you feel. Because he’s a stubborn skxawng who’s been stung one too many times now and the he won’t be honest with you unless you make the first move.”
***~~~***
You sat with Tula and some of the other female warriors, all gathered for last meal in the central gathering space of the village. You’d barely eaten anything all day and yet, as you stared at the assortment of stewed, roasted and fresh foods on your food mat, you didn’t feel even an ounce of hunger. Your anxiety had made sure of that.
It’d been a typical day of rest for the clan; families enjoyed each other’s company; friends spent time catching up over fun hobbies; children squealed and ran amok the village grounds, glad for a day off from lessons and chores. However, you’d been a tense knot of nerves all day awaiting the tsahìk’s impending proclamation.Ordinarily, you wouldn’t have been bothered. The tsahìk made all sorts of announcements all the time, but tonight’s announcement would supposedly be bringing you an opportunity, or so Lo’ak had assured.
You’d sought Tula out first thing in the morning, brimming with emotion and nerves after the mishap at the shack last night. The olo’eyktan’s family had passed you at communal breakfast and while Lo’ak had graced you with a genial grin, Neteyam had avoided acknowledging you entirely. Everything came to a head at that point.
You’d told Tula everything then about how Kai had ended things, how you’d confronted Neteyam at the shack and what came after. You’d cried in her arms over how you’d inadvertently slighted Neteyam and told her of what Lo’ak was urging you to do. To your surprise, Tula had sided with Lo’ak’s view on things.
What followed was a day of forced, but blessed pampering from your best friend. Tula had taken you down to the bathing springs, where she’d treated you to one of her wonderful back rubs with sweet oils, before she helped you to undo your tightly braided hair for washing. She had cooed and clucked over you, slathering you in all sorts of balms and creams that would help reduce the puffiness of your eyes, relax you and smoothen your skin.
Your hair fell loosely around your ears and shoulders now, luscious and silky from Tula’s various herbal conditioning treatments. Your skin felt smooth like baby’s bottom and she’d dowsed you in a scented oil to help promote calmness. She’d plucked several sun lily blooms from their stems on the walk back to the village and threaded them through your locks, remarking with a flourish that the vivid indigo hue of the flowers set off the rest of your more casual look perfectly.
“You’re quiet this evening, Neyomi. You look beautiful by the way.” Silwey observed, smiling at you from across the gathered circle of women.
The other female warrior’s smile was polite and you forced as genuine a smile back at her in return. Silwey was beautiful too, very beautiful. She had the kind of classic beauty that all the old women harped on about. The kind of loveliness that would make most men drool and gawk.
“Thanks, Tula did a fantastic job on me, as always.” You replied, picking at a small morsel of meat and popping it into your mouth.
“Not that you don’t always look beautiful though, but there’s just something about today’s look that really flatters.” Another female, Kanoa, added brightly.
“Kai is a lucky man.” Silwey chortled. You nearly choked on your food.
Clearing your throat gently, you shrugged self-consciously at Silwey, “Ah, Kai and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise.”
“It’s alright. The split is fairly fresh, but it was mutual.”
Clearly feeling bad for catching you out on an awkward subject, Silwey attempted to cheer you up, “Well, whoever catches your eye next will be a very lucky man.”
The women all murmured in cheerful agreement. Even Tula, who was doing a great job of pretending that she was unaware of the real reason for your disquiet. You mustered up a kind smile at Silwey to reassure her you’d taken no offense. You wondered if she would’ve been as kind if she knew that the man who’d caught your eye was Neteyam…
Absently, you wondered if Neteyam had sought Silwey out on her own again in the weeks you’d stopped going to the shack. You were well aware of Silwey’s romantic interest in Neteyam, especially after her last bold proposition to him all those weeks ago on the very day that had led to your evening spent with Neteyam at the hot spring. The thought of him with Silwey pained you, and you forced the thought from your mind.
A chorus of soft hushing and murmurs rippled through the gathered Omatikaya then and you saw the tsahìk step up onto the raised platform by the bonfire. She raised her arms and the clan fell obediently into silence.
“Brothers and sisters! I thank you all for gathering this night, may Eywa bless us in our communion.” Mo’at called out, her voice carrying strongly over the crowd, “A proposal was brought to me for consideration not long ago, by our olo’eyktan, regarding the traditions our people have long held about how our clans are led. Tradition has always decreed that our peoples be led by a mated pair, olo’eyktan and tsahìk, unified and blessed in the eye of Eywa.”
Your heart was beginning to pound in your chest, impatient for the tsahìk to get to the crux of her proclamation.
Mo’at continued, “But in recent generations, this has not always been so. Indeed there are other clans where the leading pair are not mated to each other, instead leading their people through an agreed partnership. Even for us Omatikaya, things have changed with the coming and subsequent defeat of the Sky People.” She turned astute eyes at her family, at Jake and Neytiri in particular, “I have retained my position as tsahìk because my daughter chose a warrior’s path, while my son-in-law Jake leads us as chief. But I am getting old now.”
Muted murmurs of curiosity were rising within the crowd, all keen to hear what their tsahìk was about to say.
Mo’at raised her arms again and she gestured this time for two others to join her on the platform. Neteyam ascended at her beckoning closely followed by his sister, Kiri.
Mo’at smiled warmly at her two grandchildren, placing a hand on each of their heads in blessing before addressing the crowd again, “Our line of succession has not changed. Neteyam will still succeed his father as olo’eyktan in time to come. However, I have prayed to our Great Mother recently and she has shown me who is to walk the path of tsahìk after me. As many of you have experienced for yourselves, our Kiri is gifted and Eywa’s voice has whispered to her since she was barely more than a babe. Our Great Mother has chosen and Kiri will fulfil the role of tsahìk when my time comes to pass!”
A current of emotion washed through the clan, all susurrating and murmuring, some excitedly and others confusedly.
“Wait, what?” Kanoa breathed, “Kiri will lead with Neteyam?”
“Yes.” Silwey affirmed, “She will be tsahìk and Neteyam will be olo’eyktan alongside her.”
Mo’at’s voice rang out again and she continued, “I hereby declare Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan and Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite our Omatikaya successors! They will choose their own respective mates, but they will lead this clan in time, brother and sister in partnership!”
Neteyam and Kiri clasped hold of each other hands then and they raised their arms in affirmation of their partnership before the people. The Omatikaya roared their approval, clapping, howling and ululating their joy.
They will choose their own respective mates… Mo’at’s words rang in your ears amidst the din the clan was making around you. Tula clutched at one of your knees, beaming at you happily at what the proclamation meant for you: A chance to love, truly and freely.
Your gaze drifted to the rest of the Sully family standing by the foot of the platform. You caught Lo’ak’s eye and he smirked at you, his eyes twinkling with meaning. This was what he’d meant last night. You recalled his question to you: If there was a chance you could be with my brother, would you take it?
You knew your answer: Absolutely.
The thrilled yammering of the warrior women around you brought you back to the present.
“So he can choose any woman he wants now. Not necessarily one of the healer women.” Kanoa’s voice was an energised whisper and she giggled girlishly at her words.
“Yup, sounds like it.” Another warrior, Neneka said, “Great Mother, have mercy on my soul for saying this, but I’d love to get under Neteyam, you know what I mean? He watches and plays around a bit at the old outpost, but he’s not as unreserved as Lo’ak is.”
You froze when you realised what the topic of the conversation had turned to among the women. Eywa, you didn’t want to hear about other women’s experiences with him…
“Yeah, he’s picky.” Kanoa sighed dreamily, “I bet he’s a generous lover though. Someone here is lucky enough to know.” She elbowed Silwey and burst into another fit of kittenish giggles.
“Hey, stop it. I’m not going to kiss and tell.” Silwey replied, laughing and swatting lightly at Kanoa. She pursed her lips sassily then and she gave a sly narrowing of her eyes, “But he’s an incredible time. That’s all I’ll say.”
The warrior women crowed with laughter at their gossipmongering and your food looked very interesting all of a sudden. You picked at the offerings on your food mat, eating a few mouthfuls and concentrating hard on the burst of savoury flavours on your tongue in a bid to drown out the awful conversation around you. You could feel Tula’s concerned eyes peering at you, but you kept to yourself.
“Well, I’m going to go and congratulate Kiri.” Tula pronounced, trying to change the subject. She pushed off her heels to stand, “Kiri is the one who’s been formally confirmed into her role tonight. It’s not all about Neteyam.”
“That’s true. Good idea.” Silwey agreed, rising to her feet along with the other women. She tittered boldly and then added, her tone brazen, “I’ll congratulate Kiri and then perhaps see if Neteyam would like some private company tonight too.”
The women snickered and began making their way towards the platform to offer Kiri their felicitations. You shook your head at the mob of them as they left. Eywa, the women were as bad as the men were with their egging and bragging of sexual conquests…
Tula lingered behind, staying with you. She crouched down next to you and reached out to squeeze your shoulder, “Don’t pay any attention to them. Eyes on the prize. You have a meaningful conversation that you need to have with Neteyam tonight. And it could change everything.”
“I know.” You sighed, looking over your shoulder where Kiri and Neteyam stood by the front of the platform, surrounded by a throng of well-wishers, “It’s just- I think I really hurt him last night.”
“There are two sides to every story. He’s not exactly been forthcoming with you either. You both need to just clear the air and get everything out in the open.”
“Thanks for everything today. Thanks for listening.” You shot Tula an appreciative smile, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Tula’s answer was a smile and a wink, but her face twisted into an unimpressed grimace when she looked to the front of the platform again, “Better work fast, babe. Silwey’s got dessert on her mind tonight.”
Sure enough, you saw Silwey whispering into Neteyam’s ear when you cast another glance over your shoulder. It was now or never. You needed to get Neteyam alone and you were going to swallow your pride and tell him everything. Dusting your hands off, you rose to your feet, intent for the throng of people gathered at the front.
Politely excusing yourself as you stepped past families and groups of friends, you weaved through the crowd and passed the crackling bonfire on your way. You made for Kiri first, wanting to congratulate the other woman. You had never spoken much to Kiri, but you were acquaintances through her brothers. Being a warrior by profession meant that you had more to do work-wise with Neteyam and Lo’ak than with Kiri, who was of course a healer and spiritual leader by trade.
Finally making it to the newly appointed tsakarem (tsahìk in waiting), you greeted Kiri politely, making the appropriate gesture with your fingers splaying out from your forehead, “Oel ngati kameie, Kiri. Congratulations on your appointment. The clan rejoices and thanks you for your service.”
Kiri’s answering smile at your greeting was enigmatic, her large golden eyes bright and perceptive, “Ngati kameie nìteng (I see you also), Neyomi. Thank you for your kind words.”
You mused quietly to yourself that Kiri already seemed to have the piercing look of a tsahìk down perfectly. The other woman was unfazed as she openly eyed you from your face, down your torso and legs, and then back up to your face again. She cocked her head at you then, eyes in a slight squint, “The tsawksyul blooms are a nice touch in your hair. Beautiful.”
“Irayo (thank you).” You thanked her, realising awkwardly that you really didn’t know what else to say to Kiri. You were also wilting a little under her penetrating gaze, so you spluttered a parting blessing, “May Eywa bless you and keep you always.”
Kiri nodded, the short and wispy ends of her short hair swaying where they framed her lovely face. Her eyes flitted to Neteyam who stood several paces to her right, surrounded by what could only be described as a gaggle of fawning women. Your own eyes followed Kiri’s, taking immediate note of the fact that Silwey was closest to him and that she’d curled a covetous hand around one of his biceps, her side pressed against his.
“I expect you’ll want to get my brother’s attention now that his pool of choice has widened.” Kiri began, moving closer to you so she could speak into your ear, “Like the rest of these eager vultures.”
Her disdain was clear in her tone and you shifted uneasily on your feet. You shook your head to refute her statement, not wanting to be reduced or likened in any way to the notion of a shallow, insipid woman, lusting after a man of high standing.
“I do need to speak to Neteyam, but it’s important. An apology actually.” You replied, hoping your candour would prove your sincerity to his intimidating sister.
With one last cock of her head and a piercing stare that made you feel like she could see you inside and out, the warm smile that Kiri graced you with next was unexpected, “My brothers speak highly of you, as do the warriors in your platoon. Eywa ngahu (May Eywa be with you), Neyomi.”
You dipped your head in acknowledgement and Kiri’s attention was quickly pulled away by another clan member wishing to congratulate her. With a deep breath, you refocused on your objective.
Neteyam was speaking to four women, all smiles and laughter as they conversed. You managed to place yourself in a gap between two of them, just big enough for you to slip into without needing to push anyone. It placed you directly in his line of sight, but if you thought he was going to acknowledge you, even out of courtesy given there were others surrounding him, watching him, you were wrong.
Mild irritation flared in your gut and you continued to look at him, trying to catch his eye. However, Neteyam’s gaze studiously avoided yours while he spoke in turn to the others, even quirking a small smile at Silwey when she leant her cheek against his shoulder. Your distress was sharp behind your sternum at the sight, but you were determined.
You cleared your throat audibly, causing a lull in the conversation as the women turned to look at you. You seized the opportunity, “Excuse me. Neteyam, can I have a moment? I need to speak to you.”
Finally, for the first time that day, his amber orbs clashed with your own. There was no warmth in them though, no emotion. Just pure impassiveness that sent a dreadful shudder through you.
“If it’s about work, it can wait until tomorrow morning.” Neteyam’s response was clipped.
His icy demeanour was cutting. You’d expected him to be upset, but not like this, not cold and unfeeling. “It’s not work-related, but it’s important.”
“Sorry. I’ve got plans tonight.” More callous brusqueness.
This was an unexpected hurdle. You hadn’t anticipated his refusal to speak to you. You’d prepared for his upset and for his anger, but not for his complete and utter disregard. A painful lump was forming in your throat and you swallowed it down tightly.
Keeping a tight rein on the brewing storm of your emotions beneath the surface, you maintained your careful mask of composure and tried again, “Neteyam, please. I only need a few moments.”
“No, I’ll catch you another time.” It was a clear dismissal.
You weren’t going to beg, not in front of everyone. You would swallow your pride, but not to the extent of abandoning all of your dignity.
Silwey was frowning at you, puzzled displeasure colouring her features, and the other women appeared equally uncomfortable at the awkward exchange. The telltale hot flush of humiliation was beginning to tingle and burn on the skin of your face. You regarded Neteyam’s hard gaze one final time before you turned and excused yourself from the group.
The world around you became surreal, the noise of the gathered clan becoming a dull hum as you ambled on numb feet back the way you came. You could feel your composure beginning to fracture, the turbulent storm within you threatening to spill, and with the first breath that hitched painfully in your chest, you broke into a sprint in the direction of your home shelter.
You needed somewhere safe and away from prying eyes for the dam to burst… For the upheaval of your emotions to come pouring out…
Your eyes stung and your vision blurred with the uncontrollable arrival of your tears. An onslaught of sobs besieged you next and you tore the sun lily blooms from your hair as you ran, pawing at the wetness streaming from your eyes. Evidently what had happened last night at the shack had been the last straw for Neteyam. You cried at the unfairness of it all.
You finally had a chance, but now it seemed that Neteyam was unwilling to grant it to you…
Someone was calling your name, the thud of heavy footfalls catching up to you. You ignored their calls, pumping your legs harder to increase your speed.
A strong hand hooked around your elbow, slowing you with a jolt and you attempted to spiral away, “No! Leave me alone!”
Another hand clasped hold of your other arm and your pursuer spun you in their arms to face them. Your forearms collided with a muscled chest and for a split second your mind tricked you into believing that Neteyam had come after you, but as your blurry gaze lifted to the man’s face you recognised who it really was.
Wrong brother. Lo’ak.
Lo’ak’s expression was cross, but you knew his irritation was not directed at you as he shushed you softly, “Hey, it’s alright, sweet thing.” He gave you a brief but tight hug before pulling away and fixing you with determined eyes, “Listen to me, OK? You have to keep it together. Go to my family’s shelter and wait there. Let yourself in, no one is home. They’re all still eating.”
Only half paying attention, you stammered, “W-What? Why?”
“Because I’m sick of this back-and-forth! You and Neteyam are going to talk. Tonight.” Lo’ak pressed insistently. He squeezed your arms gently in reassurance, “Go wait in my family’s shelter. I’ll get my brother.”
“He’s got plans.” You had meant to sound unpleasant, had meant for your voice to be a grating rasp, but what came out was an unsteady warble of words.
A harsh scoff left Lo’ak and he was already turning to jog back towards the crowded throng, “Nope, trust me. He doesn’t. Not if I have anything to say about it. Go! And stay there!”
***~~~***
A cacophony of grunts, thuds and slaps filled the woodland air as the brothers brawled off the main village pathway behind some shrubbery.
Neteyam hadn’t appreciated Lo’ak’s brisk interruption just as he and Silwey had been making their way to a quieter spot for the evening. He’d refused his brother’s ‘urgent’ request to return home at first, until Silwey had sensed the quickly rising strain between the pair and had grudgingly excused herself with a plea for him to seek her out later once the ‘emergency’ had been resolved. Neteyam had known exactly what his brother was doing, had known that there wasn’t a ‘family emergency’ at all, since their entire family could still be seen enjoying their dessert of fruit by the bonfire.
Spiteful comments were exchanged, hissing taunts were made and in the end, it was Lo’ak who’d thrown the first punch out of frustration.
The pair of them tussled, no longer upright on their feet, but wrestling on the moss-covered ground instead. It was a violent tangle of arms and legs. Neteyam had almost succeeded in his attempt to pin Lo’ak, when his younger brother threw a stinging punch, his fist colliding painfully with his jaw. A wounded groan left him and Lo’ak seized the opportunity, rolling to flip his brother onto his back in a pin.
Neteyam’s eyes were scrunched closed and his face was contorted into a pained grimace. Their bodies were robust with strong bones and tough skin, but the pain was always sharp and the bruising would show.
“You done, bro?” Lo’ak snarled, spitting a build-up of saliva and blood on the ground to his side.
Breathing hard, Neteyam fought a throbbing jaw to crack open his eyelids.
Lo’ak could see his brother was still angry, but the vehemence of Neteyam’s ire had dissipated after their brawl. He felt his brother pat his thigh in a gesture of submission and he shifted his weight so Neteyam could sit upright. Lo’ak rose gingerly to his feet, his hip aching a little from a rapid roll that Neteyam had executed earlier. He extended a hand out to his older brother who took it, pulling himself to his feet.
Fisticuffs had never been a regular occurrence between them. Not even when they’d been young boys. Lo’ak had always excelled at being the problematic, troublesome younger brother, but Neteyam had kept hold of his maturity and patience most of the time. They’d only ever had a handful of fistfights in their lives and they’d all been over significant issues. And it was fair to say that tonight’s issue was significant.
“I won’t let you run from this.” Lo’ak declared, wiping the stray dribble of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of a hand, “I’ve always been the stupid, reckless one, and you’ve always looked out for me. Well, I’m returning the favour. She’s worth it, bro.”
Reminded of the reason for their brawl in the first place, Neteyam gritted his teeth and closed his eyes with a deep exhale through his nose. He didn’t want to talk to you… He figured that you felt bad, that you wanted to apologise… but he was past simple apologies now… He didn’t want to face you if you were just going to seek forgiveness and then go back to your life without him…
“There’s nothing to be said. She’s made herself clear that she isn’t interested.” Neteyam muttered severely, massaging at his own tender jaw with cautious fingers.
“I’m fucking done hearing that from both of you!”
“And I’m fucking sick of saying it! She won’t kiss me but she’ll happily kiss you! Things are pretty damn clear to me!”
“That was a misunderstanding, and she’ll explain it herself if you let her! For once in your life, can you just trust me on this?!” Lo’ak exclaimed, exasperated, “I’m not the one being the skxawng ass right now! You and Neyomi have tiptoed around each other for weeks! So I’m staging an intervention. Forced discussion!” The blood continued to build-up in his mouth and he cursed again with another spit to his side. He’d taken an elbow in the teeth from his brother at some point and he was quite sure that one of his teeth had loosened.
“Sorry.” Neteyam mumbled somewhat contritely.
“It was a good move with your elbow, very fast.” Lo’ak conceded, huffing out a laugh. However, his face returned to its sombre expression then, “Maybe you and Neyomi will both find it in yourselves to apologise to one another tonight too.”
Neteyam’s only response was a bitter snort. He was aware Lo’ak had spoken to you last night after he’d fled the shack. His brother had been scant on the details this morning, but he’d insisted that what had happened was a misunderstanding and that he needed to speak to you. Still smarting from your denial the previous night, Neteyam had promptly let Lo’ak’s words in through one of his ears and out the other, not intending at all to follow through.
When Neteyam didn’t say anything more, Lo’ak inveigled him, “Look, she wants to talk and clear the air. You both have some serious shit you need to say to each other and I’m not going to keep playing messenger between you.”
An image of you from earlier in the evening flitted to the forefront of Neteyam’s mind. He saw you with your hair loose and un-braided, the long strands falling to frame your face and trailing to tickle your shoulders and upper back. You had three tsawksyul blooms threaded into your locks behind your ears. You’d looked so beautiful... The next image was of the wounded look on your face when he’d denied your request to speak him in a callous dismissal in front of the others. The hurt that flashed in your eyes had been plain to see, and it had felt good to know that he���d hurt you, that he’d given you a taste of your own medicine.
“Where is she?” Neteyam queried quietly.
“Back at our family’s shelter. I asked her to wait there.”
Moistening his lips, Neteyam took a deep breath and set off back towards the main village path. He felt rotten now for upsetting you. Yes, you’d hurt him, but it didn’t make things any better for him to have hurt you in retaliation.
“Bro,” Lo’ak called out, making Neteyam stop in his tracks, “Don’t make things so hard, OK? Be honest. Open up to her. You might be surprised at what you find.”
With a sideways glace at his brother, Neteyam nodded, “Yeah.”
***~~~***
You sat on your folded legs on the floor of a smaller alcove in the Sullys’ home, waiting anxiously to see if Lo’ak would succeed in his endeavour to persuade Neteyam to speak to you. It hadn’t been a very long while, but it had certainly been long enough that you were starting to worry that perhaps Neteyam had remained unyielding.
You’d let yourself into the Sullys’ home shelter like Lo’ak had instructed and you’d proceeded to drift about awkwardly as you took the space in. Their shelter was much bigger than the standard ones most families lived in. Perks of being the chief’s family, you supposed. It had a much more spacious living area and the alcoves branching off the main space, that served as each individual’s private area, were also bigger than usual.
Trinkets and decorations both of Na’vi and human origin adorned the shelter, speaking to the mixed heritage of the family. Tinkling wooden chimes hung from the joists that held the shelter up. Homely furniture and utensils were set about the space on thick woven rugs, and little paper images of the family (which you’d come to learn were called photographs) were displayed here and there.
You’d ambled about, quietly admiring the place but too nervous to touch anything out of respect. Your nose had led you to one of the alcoves in particular, Neteyam’s familiar scent wafting from it like an appealing perfume that called to every nerve and cell in your body. A sense of comfort had washed over you and you’d settled yourself on the floor rug in his alcove to continue your wait.
Everything about the alcove screamed Neteyam, from the neatly made bedding to the well-ordered layout. His elegant bow and weaponry were systematically arranged against one side, long knives, spears and daggers hanging from a sturdy looking frame. Tidy piles of fabric and clothing sat nestled in a wooden chest, and a small but ornate dresser sat on the far side with his personal jewellery and knick-knacks. Your own alcove looked like a haphazard hovel in comparison, but whenever your mother complained of the mess, you always maintained that you found comfort in your chaos.
As another wave of apprehension consumed you, you inhaled deeply through your nose and let your breath whistle out from between your lips. Your gaze fell to your clasped hands in your lap. You knew what you wanted to say. You’d rehearsed the words over and over in your mind the whole day. You just needed a chance to say them. A pang of hurt lanced through your chest at your recollection of Neteyam’s callous dismissal. You hoped that you’d get that chance tonight.
The draping flaps at the entrance of the shelter swished apart then and your head snapped upright with a gasp to see Neteyam enter the space. Another gasp left you when you took in the few purpling bruises on his ribs and jawline, visible even in the lambent glow of the firelight in the central hearth.
You were on your feet and marching up to him in an instant, concern in your voice, “What happened?” You raised a gentle hand to his face, wanting to examine his jaw, but he flinched away from your touch.
“Lo’ak said you were waiting here to talk. He was very persuasive with his fists.” Neteyam replied and his tone was harsh and tight.
Your lips settled into an unhappy line. Your gaze dropped to Neteyam’s clenched fists by his sides and you spotted the telltale cuts on his knuckles that indicated the fight certainly wasn’t one-sided. You felt another sharp pinprick of hurt that the brothers had gotten into a physical disagreement over your request to speak to Neteyam. Did he really loathe you that much now that he’d fought with Lo’ak over this?...
Neteyam stood motionless while he watched your various emotions flit across your face. He noted the absence of the sun lily blooms from your hair, noted the downturn of your ears, the stickiness of your cheeks and the shine around your eyes. You’d been crying... Guilty regret bloomed in his gut, but his pride was quick to quash it. He was hurt too, hurt by your previous denials. Tears may not have left his eyes but that didn’t mitigate the fact that you’d hurt him too with your rejections.
Your heart thumped in your chest, blood pounding in your ears as you watched Neteyam wait for you to say something. His gaze was cold and the impatient swish of his tail was telling.
Now, in the moment, with the chance you wanted presented to you, the words you’d repetitively rehearsed earlier seemed to have abandoned you entirely. Desperately trying to tamp down the panic that was rising, you heartened yourself. Now or never, Neyomi!
“I’m sorry.” The words were a sticky croak in your throat and you cleared it softly before continuing, “I didn’t mean for last night to end like it did. The truth is, I wanted to kiss you both one last time. Lo’ak just happened to be closest to me. I would’ve turned to you after.”
“Uh huh.” Neteyam’s response was sceptical and he felt his irritation beginning to rise. It was certainly a very convenient explanation on your part… You’d wanted to kiss him too? After all your rebuffs and refusals, he found it incredibly hard to believe.
You sensed his disbelief and you pressed your point further, “I’m not just saying that, I mean it. I didn’t do it to mock you or hurt you. I was so spaced out and I wasn’t really thinking things through. I’m sorry, really I am.”
“Yeah, OK. You’re forgiven.” Neteyam said with a shrug, feigning insouciance in a bid to disguise his hurt. He didn’t really forgive you. He felt far too wounded to excuse your actions so easily, but he was growing more and more uncomfortable in the thick tension that surrounded you both and he wanted out of there. If what you wanted was to apologise and seek his forgiveness then you’d done that. Conversation over. “If that’s all you needed to say then you’ll need to excuse me. Someone’s waiting for me.”
The nonchalance Neteyam was displaying made you feel equal parts sad and angry. Here you were being sincere, wanting to start an honest discussion and he wasn’t even trying. It felt as if he was here just so he could tell Lo’ak he’d spoken to you, when nothing about his manner or his words was genuine. Neteyam’s frame was already turned halfway away from you, his intention to leave clear.
Your annoyance spiked, emboldening you and you hissed, “No, I’m not done. Don’t walk away from me.” Especially not to run back into Silwey’s arms…
Pausing in his steps, Neteyam gritted his teeth and his injured jaw throbbed painfully. He turned to face you again with pinned ears and unimpressed eyes, “What else?”
He watched your as your breaths began to deepen and a frown marred your lovely face. You were so impossibly beautiful even when you were angry, and the thought only further infuriated him in that moment. Lo’ak’s words echoed in the recesses of his mind; be open, be honest. But what did his brother expect him to do? Pour his heart out to you? He’d done that once before the night of the hot spring, and you’d thrown his affection back in his face.
Your next words were uncanny, as if you had somehow read his thoughts.
“I’m sorry also for how I reacted that night at the hot spring.” You stated, making a conscious attempt to stop your irritation from colouring your expression. You wanted to appear sincere and you didn’t think an apology delivered with a scowl would achieve that. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings then either, and I’m sorry if I did.”
Neteyam wasn’t making the same effort though and his words were muttered through clenched teeth, “Again, you’re forgiven.”
Your tail hung low between your legs and you frowned at him, upset, “You’re just saying that. I’m trying to tell you that I’m genuinely sorry and you’re just going through the motions!”
The monster of his pain that Neteyam had spent the last couple of moons trying to restrain reared its ugly head in full force. He didn’t want your apologies. He wanted you. But just as he couldn’t force you to feel for him what he felt for you, your apologies couldn’t force his earnest forgiveness from him either.
“Well, a genuine apology doesn’t always earn genuine forgiveness, especially when forgiveness isn’t ready to be granted on the forgiver’s part!” Neteyam cried in a bitter shout. He saw you gulp and recoil slightly at his raised voice, but he’d uncorked the bottle of his tumultuous emotions now and after being pent up for so long, his words poured from him in an inexorable stream, “Do you know what it’s like to want someone, to be around them every day, to be so close to them and know what their body feels like, tastes like, and yet have to live with the fact that they don’t want you the same way?! You know, if all you wanted from me was the pleasure of my body, then so be it! I’ll accept that and I’ll get over my feelings in time. But don’t expect me to forgive you now when I’m not ready to do that!”
His shouting startled you at first, but you were quick to recover. He wasn’t the only one who could be loud.
“It’s not just your body I want!” You shrieked in return, and it was Neteyam’s turn to wince. You advanced on him and he took a few steps back as you gained on him until he was backed against one of the shelter’s support beams. “And yes, I know exactly what it’s like to want someone and feel like you can’t have them because that’s how I’ve been feeling too, you skxawng!”
You were so close to Neteyam now that your chin was tilted up defiantly while you held his gaze. He was glaring down at you in return, his broad chest heaving with his own resentment. You were both reeling from each other’s words, both your brains working frantically to process the situation. However, rationality was hard to find when emotions were running high, especially when what felt good in the moment was to spew blame and point fingers.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the tsahìk’s arrangement with Kiri?” You demanded hotly.
“What difference would it have made?” Neteyam snarled, “Besides, you avoided me for weeks! You were impossible to get hold of and then you went and started fucking Kai!”
“It would’ve made all the difference!” You screeched, “And don’t bring Kai into this! I never put any restrictions on you or Lo’ak while our agreement was in place. I never stopped either of you from carrying on with your other play nights with the other women!”
“I haven’t been with anyone else since you! Despite everything, all I want is you!”
“Me too!”
Both his words and yours were shouted and the sound reverberated in the hollow confines of the shelter. You sagged as if suddenly tired from the emotional tirade of the last while, and you saw the remnants of Neteyam’s ire gradually seep from his own furious expression. The truth of the situation struck you both with such stark clarity that it stunned you both into deafening silence.
Neteyam was the first to break the silence. He gave a slow shake of his head and he closed his eyes, trying to make sense of it all, “Wait, what? So why did you pull away that night at the spring? And then you avoided me and stopped coming to the shack when you start seeing Kai.”
“Because I was scared.” You murmured, and the memory of your sleepless nights filled with heartsick despair brought unbidden tears to your eyes. You blinked wet eyes up at him and your tears escaped at the action.
Neteyam hated the sight of your tears, especially now that he was the cause of them. He sighed wearily. Tenderness swelled in his chest and he cupped one of your cheeks with a gentle hand, smoothing away the rolling bead of moisture with his thumb. His deep voice was soft and gentle when he spoke, a direct contrast to his harsh bellows from before, “Scared of what?”
“Of falling for you.” You gave a wet laugh and continued your explanation, “You will be olo’eyktan of this clan one day. By tradition your mate must be worthy of being tsahìk. That was never going to be me. I ran because I was in too deep already. I wanted to keep what I had left of my heart, but I realised after that it was too late anyway.”
Neteyam stifled a curse under his breath. The arrangement of Kiri becoming tsakarem hadn’t been confirmed yet at the time. His grandmother had still been deliberating and praying about it when the night at the hot spring had occurred, but the decision had been made not long after. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so wounded by your actions, if he’d listened to his brother and been more persistent in getting hold of you, this current situation may not have spiralled so out of hand.
“Fuck, I should’ve said something.” Neteyam lamented with a groan, tilting his chin down to rest his forehead against yours, “I was just so convinced that you didn’t feel the same way and that telling you would just result in another rebuff. Especially since you still came to the shack to play for but refused to kiss me.”
“I wanted to, so much.” You whispered with a sniffle, your nose brushing his lightly, “I tried with Kai, but there was no spark there. All I could think about was you. How could I not want all of you? You’re everything I want. I wanted to protect my heart but it broke anyway trying to stay away from you.”
Your words ended in a mewling sob and Neteyam enveloped you in his arms, crushing you to him. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the comforting warmth of his body only seeming to make you cry harder.
“Shhh, I’m sorry too.” Neteyam soothed, running a large hand up and down your back while the other cupped your head against him, “I’ve been a fool and I’m so sorry.”
Remorse and shame flooded him as he reflected now on the past while. Hindsight was always 20/20. Great Mother, you’d both been so stupid... You’d both been on the same trajectory all along, except you hadn’t seen a conceivable way forward and while he had, knowing of the arrangement with Kiri, your fear and your avoidant behaviour had caused him to misunderstand and unwittingly hide the solution from you.
He pressed a kiss to your temple, loosening his hold when he felt you shift to peer up at him.
Dabbing at your nose and eyes with the back of your hand, you apologised for your appearance, “Sorry, I probably look a mess.”
Neteyam emitted a scoff and graced you with a warm smile. His hands framed your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks, “No, you’re beautiful even when you cry, paskalin. I’ll claim that kiss that you owe me now, if that’s alright?”
With a giggle, you agreed.
Sliding your palms up his chest to wind your arms around his neck, you pushed up onto the balls of your feet to meet his lips in a smooth and plush meld. It was different to how you’d imagined it would be last night, in your dazed state of overstimulation and arousal. When you’d decided on sharing one last kiss with Neteyam and Lo’ak, you’d been dejected and you’d expected the kiss to be filled with an air of sad finality. But your kiss with Neteyam now burned bright with hope and promise.
Pulling away gently, Neteyam’s smile was wide and you could see your own happiness mirrored in his golden orbs. He nuzzled your cheek affectionately, rubbing his cheek along yours while you did the same. You felt lighter than you had in a long time, the blooming warmth of your joy radiating from your heart out towards your limbs and extremities. After so many miserable nights and awkward days, the relief and thrill of knowing that feelings were requited on both sides was wonderful.
Neteyam pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and he declared, “I want to court you, openly. I want every man and woman in this clan to know that you and I are seeing each other. No one else, no more shack visits with Lo’ak.”
You couldn’t help the beaming grin that danced across your cheeks, and you chased his lips with your own as you spoke, “Yes, I accept, and it wasn’t Lo’ak that I came to the shack for.”
You felt Neteyam’s strong arms embrace you again while his lips and tongue danced passionately with yours. When you felt his large hands move to your upper thighs to hoist you against him, you instinctively twined your legs around his slender waist, locking your ankles behind him. He manoeuvred both of you into his alcove, messily pulling the cloth drapes at its entrance closed to cocoon you both in the privacy of the space.
Lowering you gently onto the softness of his bed, you moaned quietly with delight at how everything smelled of him. The heavy weight of him settled beside you and he stretched out alongside the length of your body. You both turned to lie on your sides, facing each other. It was darker in the alcove with no lamps lit in the space, the only source of light being the glow of the main fire behind the draping cloths at the alcove entrance. But Na’vi eyes acclimatised quickly and soon you could clearly make out the contours of Neteyam’s handsome face.
Your eyes trailed his form slowly from head to toe, following the vividly glimmering constellations of his tanhì (bioluminescent freckles) on his face, down his chest, abdomen and his legs. You were unhurried as you drunk in the sight of him and he appeared to be doing the same, his eyes performing a similar trek over your own body. Eywa, he was so gorgeous… His body was just perfect, every defined muscle encased in warm, smooth skin that smelled of masculine virility.
You reached out to trail your fingers over his ribs and his toned abdominals, relishing the shudder you earned from him as your fingertips traced the sensitive skin of his hip.
One of his hands stroked across your cheek and he leaned in to kiss you gently, whispering a beloved declaration against your lips, “I love you.”
Your lips stretched wide and he felt your smile against him, “I love you too.”
“Shall I show you just how much?” Neteyam’s voice was a mischievous rasp.
You tittered and sighed desirously, “Yes, make love to me, you stubborn man.”
A dark chuckle from him, “You’re going to have to be quiet here though. Think you can do that?”
You nodded soundlessly, eagerly reaching to undo the ties of your chest covering and flinging it aside to bare your breasts to him. Neteyam’s groan was almost inaudible, but you felt the rumbling growl of it with how close you were to him. His hands were immediately on your breasts, the heat of his palms searing against your soft mounds. He kneaded your breasts, thumbs stroking sensually over your incredibly sensitive nipples that hardened under his attentions. The sensation made liquid heat pool between your thighs.
Your hands made quick work of your loincloth and the fabric was flung to join your top. You felt one of his hands snake around your hip to pull you closer to him, front to front, and when his legs tangled with yours you noticed he was bare against you too, devoid of his own loincloth. You smoothed a hand over his strapping chest, fingertips testing the hard muscle there before your hand meandered towards his neck and you clutched his head towards yours.
You kissed him languidly, tasting him and smelling him, marvelling that you could love him now, truly. No more pretending. No more holding back. After so long without his lips against yours, you could quite honestly say that if the pair of you did nothing but kiss all night, you’d still wake up satisfied.
Neteyam pulled back from the kiss then and you whimpered in complaint, but he hushed you with a thumb against your lips. He murmured to you, “Shh, I love you here,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Here,” A kiss to each of your eyes, “Here,” A kiss on your nose… And on he continued downward, your shoulders, a suckling kiss to each nipple, over your heart, your navel…
You lost count after that, just getting lost in the amorous bliss of his lips paying worship to every inch of your bare skin down to your toes. He didn’t disappoint though and when he parted your thighs to settle himself between your legs, and licked a full stripe from your pussy up to your clit, you jerked with a stifled cry.
“I love you especially here.” Neteyam growled. His mouth got to work, licking and suckling at your soon throbbing core while you watched him through hooded eyes.
His golden eyes locked with yours and the intensity of his gaze made your pussy clench, pouring with slick. Your fingers played absently with his beaded braids while your hips rocked against the moist paradise of his mouth. Your eyes could barely stay open as you enjoyed the building pleasure.
Something slid down one of your thighs then and you cracked open an eyelid just in time to see Neteyam trail the thick braid of his kuru (neural queue) over your hip towards you. It was a very intimate thing, to touch another’s kuru. The intimacy of the action was surpassed only by the making of tsaheylu between two people, but Neteyam’s invitation to you to touch his was clear.
Slowly, you reached for the meticulously braided length with one hand, gently running your fingers over the smooth hair around it. Neteyam let out a small sigh that puffed against your core and he closed his eyes, enjoying your caress. You trailed your hand closer towards the end of his queue where you knew the delicate pink tendrils of it were housed. Tenderly, your fingers delved past the ends of the hair around the sheath and a sharp jolt of pleasure raced through you as the tendrils enveloped your fingers.
Neteyam whimpered, his lips and tongue ceasing their work momentarily as pleasure shot down his queue and straight to his stiff cock which gave an excited spurt of pre-cum. It was new sensation to him and a thoroughly erotic one. He couldn’t describe it, but as your fingers played with the tendrils, it was almost as if he could feel your fingers touching him at every single erogenous zone simultaneously. He resumed his feasting of your core, tongue lapping at your slick folds that only seemed to moisten further with each lap of his tongue.
His name was a whispered sigh on your lips as your clit pulsated and your inner walls squeezed. The addition of a couple of his fingers came next and he sealed his lips over your nub to suck intently at it. The tendrils of his kuru fizzled pleasantly in and around your fingers. You didn’t know what made you do it, instinct perhaps, but you brought it up towards one of your breasts then, letting the squirming tendrils attach and wrap themselves around your areola and nipple.
The pleasure was instantaneous and Neteyam’s groan against your flesh told you he felt it too. A wave of ecstasy flushed through you from your nipples to your core, throwing you into the inescapable clutches of an orgasm. Mindful of your surroundings, your mouth formed a silent ‘o’ and your fingers twisted in his hair while you writhed in bliss. Neteyam’s hand gripped onto the flesh of your hips, keeping you still enough so he could continue to drink from your core.
Your desire burned feverishly within you despite the shattering climax you’d just experienced and you were impatient to have more of him against you. Tugging at his braids to get his attention, Neteyam lifted his face, licking his lips while his cheeks glistened with the evidence of your arousal. His expression was almost feral as he crawled up your body on all fours, and you spied his straining erection, watching it bob as he made his way up to you.
You shot him a slow smile as he settled himself alongside you again and the mess on his face didn’t deter you from kissing him. You murmured, “Thank you.”
“I’m enchanted by you, paskalin. I’ll do anything you ask for as long as I live.”
A hot blush stained your cheeks at his romantic words and you didn’t know whether to kiss him again or hide your face. You saw him look at the end of his kuru where it remained attached to your breast and you urged him, “Leave it. This might sound strange, but it’s as though I can feel you better. And it feels good.”
Neteyam smirked at you and nodded in agreement, “What would you like now? I’m impatient to have you though.”
His shifted his hips, his drooling erection slipping against your lower belly. You chortled softly at him and you took pity on his aching flesh, reaching down with a hand to greet his cock with a familiar stroke. A loud grunt left Neteyam and you hushed him, ears twitching and listening to the surroundings of the shelter. No one had returned yet, you were quite sure, the both of you would’ve heard them. Though it paid to be cautious.
Getting caught in a compromising position with the olo’eyktan’s son in the olo’eyktan’s home was not a misdemeanour you wanted against your record.
You continued your teasing stroke and squeeze of his cock, revelling in the sound of Neteyam’s strained panting by your ear. You paused by the swollen tip, running your thumb back and forth over his frenulum, which drew a very vulgar curse from him. His free hand was stimulating your other nipple while the tendrils of his kuru undulated over your other. The stimulation made your pussy ache and your clit throb longingly and you rubbed your thighs together to try and ease the pressure.
“Let me help you with that. You know I can fill you up so good.” Neteyam purred, thrusting his hips so his cock slipped faster in the grasp of your hand as if to press his point.
You smirked at him and licked sensuously over his parted lips with your tongue, “No, I think I’ll tease you a bit more for being so mean to me earlier. Besides, I want to try something.”
Your introduction to Neteyam’s neural queue made you eager to return the favour. Reaching behind you with your other hand, you brought your kuru over your shoulder and carefully held its end out between you, the twisting pink tendrils greeting Neteyam with their rippling dance. Already breathing heavily from the pleasure you were giving his cock, he lifted his hand to meet your tendrils, and both of you gasped as they twined around his fingers.
The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Heat flushed over your skin and you prickled everywhere that you were sensitive; your nipples hardened and your pussy gushed with more slick. An unbidden erotic image came to you of your kuru’s tendrils wrapped around Neteyam’s cock and you shivered with delight at the thought.
Gently pulling your kuru from Neteyam’s fingers, you gradually inched it down towards his midsection, wanting to make the image your brain had supplied a reality. You watched him for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty, but his pupils were blown so wide with arousal you could hardly see the gold of his irises, and he looked on with as much eager anticipation as you did. Releasing his cock where you held it in your right hand, you brought left hand with your kuru towards it. The tendrils eagerly wrapped around their new target, coiling around the head and upper shaft.
You felt Neteyam’s body lurch at the same time that a wave of immense gratification shot through your neural queue to your own core.
“Fuck, Neyomi.” Neteyam keened and you saw his cock pulse, emitting a viscous string of pre-cum. It continued to throb and you swore your clit was throbbing in time with it.
Neteyam groaned aloud again, evidently struggling to keep to his own rule of being quiet. You rolled onto you back, pulling him atop you and silencing him with a deep kiss. You drowned in the moist heat of his mouth, lips and tongues waltzing in-between the twist and turn of your heads. He was rocking his hips against yours, his cock trapped between your bodies while your kuru still remained coiled around his sensitive flesh.
He broke away from the kiss with a sharp hiss of pleasure, “Wiya (damn), I’m going to cum like this if I can’t have you soon.”
“Yeah? Does that feel good?”
“Too good. Please, I need you.” Neteyam pleaded with a whimper, and he continued to ramble, “I know you must be aching for me. Let me make you squirt on my cock. You must have missed that right? All those weeks you didn’t come to the shack.”
You paused. It was true, you had missed him and missed his body, but you’d technically managed to squirt too with the dildo you’d poached from the shack…
When you didn’t answer, Neteyam stilled in his movements and he turned questioning eyes at you, “What is it?”
You bit your lip sheepishly, wondering if you should fib your way out of the situation or tell him the truth and make him feel a little less special. You didn’t want to start your new relationship off with a lie, so you resolved to be truthful, “I did manage to squirt whilst I wasn’t with you.”
His eyes widened and he looked rather taken aback.
“N-Not with someone else!” You quickly amended, “I pinched one of the toys from the shack a while ago when you and Lo’ak weren’t looking. It ah- It does the trick.”
Neteyam’s face suddenly morphed into a very smug smile and he leaned down to nibble at the point of your ear while he drawled, “Oh the dildo. We wondered where it had gone. Did you enjoy it, you little snitch?”
You shivered against him and rubbed your cheek against his, “Yeah, so your cock’s not the only one that can make me squirt. Sorry.”
Neteyam’s answering chuckle was deep and self-assured, “Don’t be. I’m not sorry about that.”
Confusion coloured your face and you pulled your head back to look at him, “You’re not?”
Neteyam’s expression was still incredibly conceited when he shook his head. He reached down and gently removed your kuru from his cock, keeping hold of it still though and letting its tendrils find purchase amongst his fingers instead. Sliding his knee between your thighs, he urged your to part your legs for him, which you did without hesitation. Balancing over you on his forearms, he settled his hips against yours and began a tantalising rub of his cock against your folds. You moaned with want and hooked your ankles behind his lower back.
“Why would I be upset about you squirting on that dildo,” He taunted huskily, “When that dildo was made from a mould of my cock?” His last words were punctuated with a sharp thrust of his hips, his long length penetrating you suddenly and fully to the hilt.
You threw your head back against the bedding with a guttural cry, uncaring at that moment if anyone heard you. Well that explained a lot about why that dildo had felt so good inside you… You didn’t have time to ponder on that thought. You clutched at Neteyam’s body, arms wrapped tight around his torso, your legs locked around his hips as he settled into a rhythm of rocking thrusts.
“You’re mine, paskalin.” Neteyam vowed and his lips found yours again in an all-consuming meld that set your heart and soul alight with elation.
You couldn’t get enough of him. He was all around you, over you, in you, and yet you still felt like you needed him to be closer. Your fronts were pressed to each other’s and your tails were twined; if you died like this you knew you would die the happiest you’d ever been. Your mouths remained fused, pausing only for short intakes of breath before finding each other again.
Neteyam’s thrusts were slow, but they were deep and you could feel every last ridge and outline of his cock inside you. The depth of his movements was delicious and the intense and pulsing throbs of your pelvic muscles signalled an impressive climax on the horizon for you.
Neteyam broke away from your kiss, tucking his face into the side of your neck to stifle his own reflexive moans of enjoyment. You knew he was close too from the shudder of his torso with each of his thrusts, and you could somehow feel his pleasure too, from his kuru at your breast and your kuru within his grasp.
Great Mother, you could only imagine how breathtaking it would feel when two people mated and made tsaheylu…
The winding spiral of pleasure twisted tighter and tighter in your lower belly, and your fingernails scored Neteyam’s back whilst you teetered on the brink of oblivion. You felt suspended in time, the only sounds you could hear were the pounding of your hearts and Neteyam’s harsh groans as he too hovered on the edge. He lifted his head and his gaze locked with your own, each of your pleasure-filled reflections mirrored in the dark pupils of each other’s eyes.
It was the only reflection you ever wanted to see in his eyes, your own face staring back at you. You never wanted to be without Neteyam again and as your heart shattered with the depth of your love for him, so did your core. Your climax swept through you like a tidal wave, your pussy clenching down and pulsing rhythmically as the wetness of your squirt gushed between your bodies. Your face twisted into what you hoped was a silent scream while the pleasure consumed you.
The squeeze and clench of your walls around his cock, as always, was nirvana for Neteyam. His entire frame tensed and went rigid, and he gritted his teeth hard to keep himself from shouting out his pleasure as he ejaculated. Your body milked him for every drop he had and your pussy continued to flutter around his swollen length pleasurably.
“Neteyam… Neteyam…” You whispered his name in a blissful chant and though your arms and legs shook from exertion, you kept them wrapped about him, not wanting to let him go. You mewled in complaint when he tried to roll his weight off you, so he deftly rolled you both so you could lie on top of him, still intimately joined.
Neteyam clasped you to him, on arm draped over your back while his other hand made soothing strokes over your hair. He could feel your breaths puffing gently into the crook of his neck where your cheek rested against his collarbone. His kuru and yourshad detached at some point and they trailed alongside your bodies, but it took nothing away from the intimacy you were both still wrapped up in.
“By Eywa, you’re it for me, you know that?” Neteyam affirmed with a hoarse chuckle, “Without a doubt. I’ll never look at another woman again.”
Your heart soared at his words and you knew, if you could see yourself, that your tanhì would be glowing bright with your immeasurable joy and contentment, “I guess we’re both ruined for each other then.”
“Will you be mine, formally? Will you accept this offer of betrothal?”
You gasped softly at his request. Your heart screamed your answer, affirmative without any hesitation, but the cogs in your mind began to turn. His betrothal request was unexpected. You’d agreed earlier to be courted openly by him, but a betrothal was serious. It was an engagement to be mated for life and while your heart danced for joy, your conscience questioned, not his fit for you as a mate, but your fit for him as mate to the olo’eyktan.
“Neyomi?” Neteyam queried quietly at your silence. His apprehension was clear in his tone.
You raised your head to regard him, blinking wide eyes at him, “I want to accept, but what if I turn out to be wrong for you? What if I’m not fit to stand by your side as wife to the olo’eyktan?”
He laughed at you then, relief sweeping over his face when he realised why you were hesitating, “You stand by my side every day already, paskalin. You’re my second-in-command and you’ve partnered with me, challenged me where I needed to be, and supported me for years. You already hold the position without the formal title.”
Tears sprang to your eyes as your emotions began to gain the upper hand. You murmured wetly, “You really want me like that? Forever?”
Neteyam craned his head upward to brush his lips against yours, “I want you every way that I can have you. As my second-in-command, my wife, mother of my children…”
His words trailed off, interrupted by you as you pulled him against you to claim his lips in another searing kiss, “Yes! I accept.”
There was commotion then in the main space of the family’s shelter. Hushed whispers and soft chatter sounded, indicating the return home of the other Sullys.
A very loud and contrived coughing fit sounded from Lo’ak, who cleared his throat dramatically several times, apologising repeatedly for his noisy fuss. You and Neteyam grinned at each other in the darkness, chortling to yourselves, knowing full well that Lo’ak was wanting to ensure the both of you knew that you were no longer alone.
You settled your head against Neteyam’s chest again, closing drowsy eyes and basking in the afterglow.
Neteyam murmured a bedtime prayer and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, “Sleep, my love and I’ll rise to kiss you again in the morning.”
***~~~***
You were awoken by the sound of soft knocking against wood and a feminine voice calling out gently.
Neteyam stirred beneath you, his shoulder shifting beneath your cheek. You’d slept pressed against each other the entire night and were it not for the corporeality of the situation currently, you would’ve sworn it was all just a wonderful dream.
More knocking sounded and you were grateful to see the cloth drapes at the alcove entrance remained shut. Neither of you was decent yet.
The feminine voice called again and you recognised it to be Kiri’s, “Good morning, you two. The day has long begun.”
Part of you sighed in relief. Better Kiri than Neytiri. Great Mother, you didn’t want to face Neteyam’s mother right now after a sensual night with him, under their roof…
Neteyam’s smile was debonair and he blinked sleepy eyes at you. You squinted back at him, the harsh daylight outside obvious even in the confines of the shelter. You startled with a gasp. Daylight! By Eywa, what was the time?!
Scrambling for your clothing, you smacked Neteyam’s thigh, “Neteyam! The hunters! We’ve got patrol this morning!”
Kiri’s laughter sounded like a charming peal of shell chimes from behind the drapes, “Mm yes, I daresay it caused quite the stir when both the commander of the warriors and his second-in-command didn’t turn up for work today.”
A long and grumbled curse hissed out from Neteyam as he pressed the fingers of one hand into his eyes.
Kiri was quick to chastise, clucking her tongue in reprimand, “Language, brother. Besides, there’s no need to fret. Dad and Lo’ak stepped in to lead today’s patrol. There isn’t any urgency for you.”
Dressing quickly nonetheless, you shared a chaste kiss with Neteyam before he drew back the alcove drapes. Kiri stood with her arms folded, looking mighty amused as her eyes flitted sagaciously between the pair of you.
Kiri’s shrewd eyes took in your form, trailing you from head to toe again, but there was a teasing glint in them when she spoke, “That was some apology you had for my brother.”
Flushing a deep shade of violet, you greeted the young woman meekly, “Good morning, Kiri.”
“Where’s Mum?” Neteyam asked, glancing around the empty shelter with nervous eyes. He threaded his fingers through yours to hold your hand. His mother wouldn’t have been pleased by what the both of you had done. Yes, you were both grown adults and intimacy was not frowned upon amongst the people, but there was a certain respect that one had to have for their parents’ home.
Kiri giggled again with a polite hand over her mouth, “She’s out. She left early this morning to help Grandmother gather some herbs.” She snorted when she saw Neteyam visibly relax, and she couldn’t help but take another jab at him, amused by his discomfiture, “Oh don’t worry, Mum definitely wanted to throw you both out earlier this morning, but I think the Great Mother had something to say about that.”
You frowned, not understanding Kiri’s meaning. Neteyam’s ears too pricked in curious interest and he cocked a questioning head at his sister, “What do you mean?”
Kiri padded to the main archway of the family shelter and she pulled one half of the entry cloths aside, motioning with her head for both of you to step outside, “Come see for yourself.”
Following along a little behind Neteyam, the warmth of daylight greeted your skin as you both stepped out into the open. You heard Neteyam suck in a breath and halt in his steps. Blinking against the intense daylight, your eyes took a few moments to acclimatise. However, when they finally did and you took in the spectacle before you, you gave a loud gasp of surprise.
All around the Sullys’ family shelter, littering the ground and hovering about the structure, were dozens of atokirina (seeds of the sacred tree). The feathery seeds undulated about the place, sprinkling the shelter in a dusting of blessed white.
Kiri stepped out after the both of you, grinning, “Evidently Eywa thought all was right with the world.”
You felt Neteyam pull you to his side and he nuzzled your cheek tenderly. Your answering smile was bright and you placed a shy kiss on his shoulder.
“Do I need to tell Grandmother to make another formal announcement?” Kiri asked, smirking at the tender display of affection between you.
Neteyam’s beamed at his sister and his response was full of affectionate confidence, “Yes. Neyomi and I are both spoken for. We’re betrothed.”
And all was right with the world indeed…
Epilogue - Silwey's Reaction HERE
***~~~***
Author's Note:
The end! THANK YOU again to all of you wonderful folks for your awesome support. I absolutely love interacting with everyone and it's because of you that this series became a reality. It was only ever meant to be a oneshot! I hope that you've relished Neteyam & Neyomi's (reader) journey to love. Let me know your thoughts, scream to me in the comments! Reblogs, likes & comments are always very appreciated. 😘
Tag list:
@teymars @eyweveng @leaveitbythewave @luvteyams @akiras-key @bajbr @qcswrites @reggiesslut @neteluvr @savvysscandles @dasaniix @emery-333 @vintaqestar @live-laugh-neteyam @itssomeonereading @strawberry-vamp0 @delacruzyari @bluecooki3 @aalex561-blog @frustrated-kitten @innercreationflower @wolf12thsworld @wheneclipsefalls @iameatingmyhair @ele-sme @investedreader @oasiswithmyg @daeneeryss @pandorxxx @anonka01 @hunbomb @pandoraslxna @adrianarose7 @sunghoonmyluv @notnat02 @getthisoverwith33 @simp4myself @spicymayyo @animehoe1-800 @daddysmurfslefttoenail @iman-lu @creepytoes88 @flyingspacewhale @neteyamswifesworld @lostress101 @nilsavatar @cloudyw1ndzz @itsjazzsworld @solemnlover @asweetblueberry2 @blue-slxt
#neteyam smut#lo'ak smut#neteyam x reader#lo'ak x reader#atwow neteyam#neteyam#avatar james cameron#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#lo'ak x y/n#neteyam x y/n#avatar twow#avatar neteyam#avatar movie#atwow#lo'ak sully#neteyam sully#atwow smut#atwow fanfiction#avatar way of water#avatar the way of water#neteyam fanfiction#lo'ak fanfiction
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I love the newer teachers not knowing who Eddie is and visiting Steve at his house and wondering how they can afford such a nice house. I can imagine that they live in a house way above a teachers salary, much less a teacher with presumably, a lot of medical bills. They see gold records hanging on the walls and all of Eddie’s awards on a bookshelf and they are trying to connect the dots to who Eddie is.
David’s first impression of Steve is, admittedly, not great.
He was hired as a long-term substitute halfway through the school year and technically, Mr. Harrington was the only teacher on their floor not to introduce himself to him. They’re supposed to cover the eighth grade lunch period together, but Steve hasn’t shown up once since David was started three days ago.
Instead, the principal covered for him.
Cindy McCullen, the gossipy history teacher across the hall from him, says that it’s because of favoritism. She says that Principal Moreno always lets her favorites run rampant around the school and lets them do whatever they want, especially if they’re tenured. Steve Harrington is the most egregious example of blatant favoritism.
David starts to form an opinion about Mr. Harrington in his mind that only gets worse with every story he hears from Cindy. So, it’s a bit of a shock when Steve shows up for lunch duty the next day with a whole ass service dog.
He feels like an asshole.
Especially because Steve is so apologetic about missing the last three days and leaving David to ‘the wolves’ during his first week, “Is this your first teaching job? I’ve heard from the kids that you’re doing great!”
He makes a conscious effort after that to get to know Steve and to stop letting other people form his opinions for him. Though, admittedly. He kinda fucks that up too.
The first time David meets Eddie, he thinks that he’s Steve’s brother.
It’s not that Steve doesn’t talk about his life outside of work. It’s just that he doesn’t go into a lot a detail. David knows that he’s married to a man, that he’s from Indiana originally, and he might have a kid. Maybe? A girl name Erica that tells him what a brony is and how they ruin everything.
Hell, David’s not even entirely sure he knows what Ozzy is in service of. Steve just said that he bumped his head one too many times and now he has a dog so his husband stops worrying so much.
The only surefire thing that David knows is that Steve has a brother that’s a bit of a dork. He has great hair and is really smart, but lacks tact. Steve loves him. You can tell by the way that he talks about the guy.
So one day, David is in the teacher’s lounge heating up a cup of Easy Mac while Steve is sitting with his head down at one of the tables. He’s about to suggest that Steve go home and sleep off whatever cold he has when a guy with long hair and a leather jacket sticks his head in the room and declares, “You look like shit.”
Steve doesn’t even lift his head when he flips him off which is – whoa, not something that David would expect from Mr. Harrington. He makes himself busy with stirring his mac and cheese while the two bicker with each other which is, admittedly, childish.
Leather Jacket’s main argument for why Steve has to listen to him and go home is because he’s older. Steve croaks out that that is bullshit and Leather Jacket threatens to call their Uncle Wayne if Steve doesn’t listen. He eventually agrees.
Before they leave, Leather Jacket sticks his hand out to David and introduces himself as the cooler Mr. Harrington (that gets a laugh out of Steve).
So, color him shocked when Steve invites their event committee over to his house.
David hasn’t even fully gotten over how nice of a neighborhood Steve lives in on a teacher and retiree’s salary when Leather Jacket gets introduced as Eddie, the husband Steve has mentioned. Then he just casually mentions a red carpet like, what?
And the craziest part is that he’s asked about his husband before!
Steve mentioned once that his husband was out of town and when David asked what he did for work, Steve said that he was retired. He said that his husband can play guitar and that one of their friends (James Hetfield) needed a last minute guitarist for some kind of fair (Coachella) so Eddie went to help out.
He definitely worded it like playing guitar was just a hobby that his husband has, not like. Not like platinum records lining the hallway to their bathroom or the picture of Steve and Eddie in Vegas with KISS stuck to the fridge. He swears the note on the dry erase board by the garage entrance signed ‘Dave’ is in Dave Grohl’s handwriting.
There’s an Grammy on the bookshelf by the fireplace.
Who the hell is Steve Harrington?
Better question: Who the hell is Eddie Munson?
Kathy laughs the entire drive to her house and she is still laughing when he drops her off. The only thing she says that could even be considered an answer is, “I think he’s on Tiktok. Start there.”
#Day 2 of not really answering the prompt#I thought that it’d be funny if Steve was so casual about Eddie’s fame that it comes off like his husband plays Wonderwall in their garage#and then the rest of this was written#I like to imagine that David goes back to school and gossips with the other first year teachers and all try to figure out who Steve is on#their lunch breaks. they all nearly lose it when they find an article about the Starcourt Mall fire and Steve was mentioned in it#eddie munson tiktok saga#steve harrington#eddie munson
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You should have left a note - {Five Hargreeves x GN!Reader}
Synopsis: Five is ordered to kill his ex-commission partner. He doesn't want to.
Note: I made this really late at night. I would really appreciate requests for Five :)
(Not edited)
WORD COUNT: 1K
2nd POV:
Five peers down at the paper that bears your name, hands shaky. He was ordered by the Handler--just this morning--to terminate you for immediate extraction.
It’s been a year since you left Five since you left the Commission. He'd been rightfully frustrated since your abrupt departure. He didn't get a note, nor a goodbye. Sure, you two weren’t all that close as partners, but he at least deserved a warning, he thought.
He doesn't know how to feel about the idea of blowing your brains out with his M1935.
You’ve been gone for approximately a year, leaving no trace or hints as to where you may be. But, the Commission finally tracked you down to a small town in New Jersey, 1978.
When he arrives in front of your supposed living quarters, he is taken aback by the rundown apartment complex in front of him. A real shithole. Its bricks are chipped and sun-bleached, presumably from old age. Police sirens and gunshots are audible from a neighborhood away, giving away the unsafeness of the area.
It’s twelve o’ clock at night. Five quietly blinks up to your numbered room. If he remembers correctly from the paper, it's room 395. Third floor, second door to the left.
Your apartment is dark, gloomy. Five does not turn on the lights, not wanting to give away his existence. But, he assumes you’re not home anyways. Your job as a bartender at a rundown restaurant downtown would have you occupied for at least another hour.
He wonders through the confined living space, taking note of a few books scattered on the coffee table, and an unmade bed. There's a small pile of dishes in the sink, a pot and two bowls. There are no picture frames, or wall decor. The room is barren with no personality at all.
Five would not even know that you lived here from the looks of the place.
It smells like you though, he unwillingly notices. He finds it oddly comforting nostalgic.
He’s in the middle of examining some scattered papers on the ground when he hears the jingling of keys outside the door. Along with your whistling.
Five blinks behind a window curtain in no time at all, blood pumping fast. You must have gotten off early.
Your humming becomes more prominent as you enter your living space. The sound of keys being thrown on the kitchen counter makes Five jolt, but he still goes unnoticed.
You make no move to turn on the lights, so Five risks a glance at you.
Your head is blocked by the freezer door, but he notices your disheveled work attire. Some black slacks and an untucked white button down shirt. Your apron hangs on a hook by the door.
When the freezer door is closed, he notices your face. It's the same as when he last saw you, but with sadder eyes and dark eye-bags. His heart sinks, he starts feeling uncharacteristically torn.
He watches you crack open a frozen dinner meal and place it in the microwave. You roll your sleeves up to your elbows while you wait for the food to heat up. Five always thought you had nice, toned forearms. He stares at them, at you.
His eyes are intense, observing as you lean against the counter, stretching and running your fingers through your hair. He feels his stomach knot.
Five was definitely the wrong person for this job. He readys his gun quietly.
You freeze at the almost imperceptible sound of a gun clicking, slowly turning your head in Five's direction. He doesn't see the way your eyebrows furrow because he's fully behind the curtain again.
The microwave beeps quietly, but you make no move to retrieve your dinner.
The sound of footsteps approaching Five's hiding spot makes sweat bead on his forehead. He debates letting himself be caught, but decides against it. Five blinks behind you, aiming his gun.
But you've already kicked the thing out of his hands, fully expecting his maneuver. You tackle him to the ground, gripping his wrists and pinning his legs with yours. Not before kicking the gun far away, under the couch.
"God, of course they sent you, Five." You breathe, glaring down at him in dismay. "The Handler's such a sadistic- I mean, sending my own partner to kill me? Is she kidding?" You ramble is distress, cursing your ex-employer.
Five gazes up at you, swallowing thickly. He fights thoughtlessly against your grasp, but tries nothing else to get loose. He does not want to kill you.
"Let go of me." He warns, feeling fuzzy and not knowing what else to say. His eyes never leave yours.
"Why don't you just blink away? You're fully capable of getting out of this." You accuse, getting close to his face. Your breath tickles his nose. It's minty.
Five hesitates, his eyes fluttering for a moment as he fails to regain his train of thought.
He remains quiet.
"You don't really want to kill me." Your grip on his wrists falters slightly when he doesn't object.
He softly pulls his wrists free, and you let him sit up. But you keep his legs pinned just in case. There is a strangely comfortable silence as you wait for Five to find the words.
"You should have just told me you were going to leave." Five whispers finally. His tone is unreadable. "Or at least left a note."
You look at him with a pained expression. "You're right. I should have." It's something you regretted for months after abandoning him. There is an intake of breath right before you add: "I missed uh- I miss you." You redden, not looking at him.
He exhales with a hidden smile. "Me too."
#five hargreaves x you#five hargreeves#tua five#five hargreeves x reader#tua#the umbrella academy#five hargreaves x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#oneshot#number five#umbrella academy#x reader#reader insert#gender neutral reader#five x reader#five x y/n#five x you#tua fanfic#tua fic#umbrella acedmy
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Tracing Your Tattoos | jjk [teaser]
summary: you never expected to reunite with the ex that broke your heart years ago after he disappeared on you during your pregnancy, but here he was in the the flesh, asking for a place to stay.
pairings: ex boyfriend!baby daddy!jungkook x f!reader
warnings: smut, angst, alcohol addiction (jungkook is a recovering alcoholic), exes to lovers, brief violence, fluff, 18+, minors dni
warnings for teaser: DV, strangulation
word count: 922
You let out an airy sigh as you enter your home, relieved to finally kick your shoes from your aching feet. You peel off your jacket, hanging the denim on your coat rack. You notice Jungkook still sitting on the couch, just as he was when you left for work this morning. “Hey, honey.” You greet the brunette. “Hey.” He mumbled, his eyes staying glued to the tv screen. You furrow your brows at his lackluster tone, finding his unenthusiastic attitude off putting as he usually greets you at the door, but you chose not to dwell on it. “Where’s Junior?” You keep the conversation moving, venturing towards the kitchen.
“Asleep. Where else?” He says with agitation in his voice, subtly hinting that he wasn’t quite in the mood for talking. He takes a sip from a plastic red cup that you hadn’t spotted in his hand until now. You sense the hostility in the room, so you decide to address it. “Is there a problem?” You ask the brunette, who still refuses to look away from the television. “No,” he burps. “Do you want one?”
You scoff, throwing up your hands as you refuse to argue with him and his random act of rudeness. You focus on the mess that was left in the kitchen, rolling your eyes. Leave it to Jungkook to make a mess and not clean it up. You grab the garbage from the counter, stepping on the peddle of your trash can, the lid popping open.
You notice an empty glass bottle sitting atop of the heap of garbage, and a frown forms your lips. You throw the trash in your hands back to the counter before you grab the glass bottle from the trash, reading over the label. ‘Jack Daniels’. Your cheeks heat up with rage, and you stomp over to Jungkook, slamming the bottle on your coffee table. “What the fuck is this?!” You shout angrily.
Jungkook finally pulls his gaze away from the tv, looking from the bottle to you. “A bottle.” he replies in a snarky manner. “Yeah, that much I fucking gathered. What’s it doing here?” You cross your arms, giving him the 3rd degree.
“I had a friend from my sobriety class come over, and we had a little drink. So what?”
“So what?! You drank the whole fucking bottle, Jungkook. You’re not supposed to be drinking at all, you’re a recovering alcoholic!” The brunette scowls as though he didn’t need your reminder. “I know that.” He slurs a bit, his voice nonchalant. “Then why the hell are you drinking with your sobriety buddy when you should be attentive to our five year old?”
“You know I’ve had a tough week, so give me a fucking break.” He takes another swig of what was in his red cup, which you could only presume to be the rest of the Jack Daniels. “That better not be alcohol in that cup.” You point to the red solo cup. “And if it is?” He glares at you, his eyes glossy.
You huff, stepping around the table to snatch the cup from his grasp but Jungkook is too quick, moving the cup away from you. “Jungkook, give it here.” You demand, reaching for it once more, though it was all to know avail. Fed up, you smack the bottom of the cup, watching it fly out of his hand and hit the floor. “What the fuck is your problem?!” He bellowed, abruptly standing up from the couch.
“No, what’s yours?!” You size him up, not backing away just because he towered over you. “You promised me you changed, but here you are drunk with our son only in the next room! You’re fucking hopeless!”
“I’m hopeless?” He chuckles. “If I’m hopeless then you’re pathetic. Having that damn kid when you know I never fucking wanted him in the first place!” He spat. You felt a pang in your chest, your eyes watering a bit. You refused to let them fall though. Instead you pull your hand back and slap Jungkook across the face. The brunette’s head turned upon impact, and you could see him bite down on his lip ring.
Before you’re able to process what you’ve done, Jungkook lunges at you, knocking you down onto the couch. He straddles you, his hands flying around your throat. You struggle to get him off you, your fists pounding against his chest. The struggle only makes him squeeze tighter, your eyes watering as you lose oxygen.
“Daddy?” The sound of your son’s voice rings in your ears; Jungkook’s grip suddenly loosens, and he finds himself pulling away from you. The look on his face is a look of terror, shame, and sadness as Junior stands there in confusion. Though the child didn’t understand what was going on, it was the mere fact that he was witnessing his father strangle his mother, and that made Jungkook sick to his stomach.
Jungkook looks from the five year old, to you, lying there trying to catch your breath. He runs his fingers through his hair, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He shakes his head, standing up from the couch and darting to the front door. He puts on no shoes, or jacket, just opens the door and leaves you there alone with Junior. You sit up from the couch, the tears you wouldn’t let fall finally did so.
Junior approaches your shaking frame, looking up at you with worried eyes. “It’s okay, mommy.”
#jeon jungkook x you#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook x reader#bts jungkook#jk bts#bts jk#jungkook x y/n#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jk#bts fluff#jungkook angst#jk smut#jk fluff#jk angst#jeongguk#jeon jeongguk#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts smut#bts x female reader#jk x y/n#jk x reader#jk x you
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'Husband' & 'Wife' Part II (Raphael x Tav)
There's smut in this.
[Part I]
---
She stared at him.
And he stared at her - waiting for her to strip.
“Is there a problem?” Raphael inquired with faux innocence and a raise of his brow.
Well, no… and yes.
It was neither the act of stripping nor the thought of actually being naked in front of the cambion that delayed her from enacting the first half of her bargain; it was the fact that they had appeared in the entrance hall - and it wasn’t empty.
To their credit, half of the debtors paid them no mind because they had no mind left; they shuffled around in despair, mumbling to themselves whilst the other (seemingly-more-lucid) debtors silently worked on their hands and knees to clean the marble floor with rags and a bucket of water.
Also to their (and Raphael’s) credit, they were clothed.
Suddenly her poor-decision-of-an-offer to clean his House naked became just that: a poor decision.
Another poor decision to add to her List of Regrets…
The List was never to be revealed to anyone, and therefore Raphael would never know how many times his name was mentioned; what he did need to know was that she was a woman of her word (most of the time), and she would, in-fact, clean his house naked for eight hours if need be.
(What-in-the-devil possessed her to say eight hours? Of all the hours! Why not five? Or even two?
One would have sufficed, surely…)
“No, there’s no problem,” she said sweetly, holding eye contact as she began to undo her belts. “It is rather toasty in here…”
His intense, heated gaze wasn’t helping.
Not in the mood to entreat Raphael or the debtors to a striptease, her belts were casually discarded to the floor. Footwear was next in line to be removed, but because her boots did not simply slip off, it became mildly embarrassing as she balanced on one leg at a time and wrestled each foot from imprisonment - all with Raphael watching with crossed arms and the hint of a smirk. Tav smirked, too, albeit with slight sarcasm once she dumped the second boot, and she swiftly moved on to pulling down breeches and smallclothes in one go. She stepped out of the puddle of garments whilst lifting her tunic from over her head, and the pile continued to grow with the added shedding of her brassiere.
All that was left-
“Leave your footwraps,” Raphael commanded, reading her intention of going for the strips of cloth around her feet. He inspected her as Tav straightened to shamelessly stand beside her shorn gear. His brown eyes were unapologetic in their scrutiny, and both she and her arousal unapologetically liked the way the cambion slowly burned a path from her face, down the column of her neck to drink in the sight of her breasts and hardened nipples. Further netherwards they went, trailing along her waist, hips, and thighs to magnetically settle on her sex. “I married well, it seems. You are exquisite. Haarlep does not do you justice - in more ways than one, I’m sure.”
Heat tinged her cheeks (the cheeks of her face, though her other cheeks were warmed from the temperature within the House), and Tav mentally reproached herself; this scenario was leading to danger, which was not good seeing as how the last time she stripped naked in front of a fiend…
“I’m very flattered you think so, husband,” she said with a pinch of haughtiness. “I presume my eight hours has officially begun? Where am I to begin cleaning? It looks as if this hall has been taken care of.”
“You will be cleaning the Archive. You know the way I believe?” Raphael dramatically gestured for her to take the lead down the hall. “After you, my dear.”
Tav stuck her nose in the air and airily began to guide them down the steps and through the passage that led to the dining hall.
“I can’t help but notice that you have yet to thank me for coming to your coin purse's rescue,” Raphael remarked behind her.
“You will get your thanks when I have the breastplate in hand,” Tav replied. “Besides, if anyone should be thanking anyone, you should be thanking me for my offer to do this - let alone in a state of undress.”
“Mm, you are quite right, Little Mouse…” said the cat, his voice dipping into a purr. “Thank you.”
She refrained from glaring at him; there was no-doubt that Raphael was appreciating the view of her assets as they moved through the dining hall and towards the Archive. The loitering debtors strategically fled or turned their backs at their approach, and Tav tried not to pay attention to the worrisome amount of wispy, spectral souls that skimmed through the air overhead.
Thankfully, for this visit, there was no need for her thieves’ tools; the doors to the Archive were open for visitors, allowing her to head straight for the expansive room she had at one time browsed all by her lonesome. During that uninvited drop in of Raphael’s treasures, the Archivist had annoyingly hovered over her shoulder (even after she successfully persuaded him that she was Someone Important), and, by the looks of things, the very same Archivist still had a job.
Not bothering to cover up, Tav stopped a number of feet away from the snobbish servant.
“If it isn’t Verillius Receptor,” the Archivist said snidely after getting over the initial surprise of her nudity. He then smoothed down his hostility once he saw who it was who followed behind and he bowed. “Oh, and my lord!”
“You are not needed - begone,” Raphael ordered in greeting.
Unable to help herself, Tav discounted the Archivist’s presence as she gave Raphael a simpering smile, “I look forward to seeing your treasures up close, husband.”
At the moment of leaving her, she regretted the way her words could be misconstrued as innuendo. Nothing lost on him, her ‘spouse’s’ eyes glinted with amusement - and more.
The ability to sputter like a goldfish was passed from her to the Archivist; his mouth opened and closed as his eyes flicked from her to his lord - confusion apparent. Panic then sprouted, for his delay caused a change in demeanor from Raphael and the servant hastily bowed again before scampering off.
“Close the doors behind you,” added the master of the House.
The Archivist obediently obliged, and the set of doors shut at his exit.
Wanting to avoid Raphael’s stare, Tav appraised the items that sat behind impervious shields. The Amulet of Greater Health and the Gauntlets of Hill Giant Strength remained on their marble pedestals, but the center pedestal was empty of any item or any contract belonging to a specific person.
Raphael stepped closer. “I’ve yet to find anything to match the significance of what was there.”
“Yes, the contract of your Crown’s courier,” Tav answered. She rotated to face him, and her heart stuttered; Raphael was closer than expected - well within arm’s reach. “Congratulations, by the way. As I understand it, you’ve achieved a number of victories since gaining the object of your heart’s desire.”
“Yes, but, as is natural when a desire is fulfilled, another must take its place.” His eyes drifted to her lips, and the rapid beating in her chest hurt. “Would you like to know my latest heart’s desire, Little Mouse?”
“Please share - unless you’d like me to find out through the reading of your diaries.”
His expression turned calculating at the recounting of her indiscretion, and Raphael invaded her space further with a single step, his head leaning in for her ear as he had earlier in the armor shop. A chill coursed through her when the back of a finger ghosted along her arm. “It’s my heart’s desire that each pedestal be cleaned to pristine perfection.”
He pulled his smirking (and stupid) handsome face away, and Tav quelled her own heart’s desire to punch it.
Snap!
At their feet, a bucket of sudsy water and a number of rags appeared from a plume of smoke and embers.
“Be sure to do a better job than the debtors - I’d hate to have to punish my wife.”
Tav internally fumed; he thought to lord himself over her? When there is no contract between them? She could win right here and right now; she could forget the breastplate! She could leave - leaving Raphael a thousand gold short with a breastplate he didn’t need or want, and with the remnants of a bargain to be made between him and the dwarven shop owner!
Tav mentally burned the List of Regrets (to avoid adding her next decision to it).
Oh, she’ll show him! She’ll make him beg!
“I’d hate to be disobedient.” She smiled demurely as she gracefully lowered to a crouch while looking at him. Her head came to be at the level of his crotch as she picked up the rags and then the handle of the bucket with the same hand. Her eyes fell from his face to consider what lay beyond the fabric of his breeches, and Tav caught a sliver of her lower lip between her teeth.
She rose without a second glance to the cambion and swayed her hips on her way over to the first exhibit displaying the Amulet of Greater Healing.
Raphael prowled after her.
“Oh, does my lord husband have nothing better to do than to watch his wife clean?” Tav asked as she stepped up the few stairs. She set the bucket down on the top step, just shy of the pedestal’s base.
“Past experience has told me that I can trust none else in this House to see to it that a mouse doesn’t get into mischief,” Raphael answered, landing at the foot of the stairs and effectively blocking her path from leaving the golden, fenced-in enclosure in which she stood.
“I’m sure the mouse meant no harm in seeing where the cat - no, pardon me, the fox - conducts his business.” Again she crouched, and Tav stuck out her backside as she grabbed a rag and dunked it into the foamy water. The rag was rinsed of any excess before she arranged herself to begin.
“Had there been harm, the mouse would have suffered for it.”
“Duly noted.”
She would clean to the best of her abilities, and she would do it whilst posing in the most provocative manner possible. Currently, this meant placing herself beside the pedestal - her position remaining low as she spread her legs and hovered above the floor on the balls of her feet, giving pedestal and floor an eyeful of her sex.
Nothing for Raphael, of whom she did not bother to acknowledge while ‘focusing’ on her task.
Hand and rag slowly moved up the smooth, arched portion of the pedestal before making its way back down again, wiping the marble of any accumulated dust and grime. When it came to more ‘stubborn areas’, Tav decided to add a bounce to her body in rhythm to her vigorous scrubbing.
“What are you doing, Little Mouse?” Raphael inquired with a substantial drop in his pitch.
“I’m cleaning in the nude - per the terms of our agreement,” Tav said pleasantly, moving to re-dunk her rag.
“Do you typically clean in this manner?”
“No, I typically clean with clothes on.”
“You know my meaning.”
Tav shifted the bucket over and threw a smirk over her shoulder as she once more sunk down and spread her legs - providing the front of the pedestal en eyeful of her front and the cambion a nice picture of all that her backside had to offer. “No, Raphael, I’m afraid I don’t know your meaning.”
“Then let me speak plainly - do you typically clean as if there were a cock beneath you?”
With the bucket slightly out of reach, and because she hadn’t rinsed her rag fully, Tav squeezed a nominal amount of water from the cloth, providing Raphael the illusion that her sex was soaked to the point of dripping.
“Not typically.”
She heard a low growl behind her, which pleased her to hear in more ways than one as she progressed on in her cleaning of the pedestal’s surface. After a handful of minutes, Tav got to her feet to return to the bucket but was stopped by a new directive.
“Move on to cleaning the center pedestal.”
The roughness of his voice drew her attention, and Tav knew she was doomed to live out her fantasies - if not solely due to the look Raphael was giving her; his eyes were dark and glazed over with want, and he gripped the stiffened outline of his cock through his breeches.
The devil was unraveling - because of her.
Tav grabbed her rag and bucket to then sidle up to him.
“Do you typically get aroused while watching debtors clean, Raphael? I wouldn’t put it past you,” she murmured whilst glancing from his eyes to his parted lips - the top of which was frozen in a partial curl.
“Only when watching you,” he replied huskily.
Tav tightened her hold on the bucket handle, lest it slip from her fingers and she make a genuine mess. The urge to kiss and taste that mouth of his was churning within, but she could not give in per the rules she created; he must bend and break first.
“I see.” She smiled as she stepped past him, and Raphael trailed after her to the center enclosure where the empty pedestal awaited to be cleaned.
Tav was at the top step when she paused and thought better of the placement of her bucket. She pivoted and slowly strutted back over to Raphael, who, yet again, acted as a guard to the section’s entrance and exit. The bucket was gently set down to the side, and she half-kneeled before him while she drowned her rag within water. With her eyes on that-which-couldn’t-be-ignored, Raphael capitalized and worked to free his erection from confinement.
It was then that a string of happenings happened within seconds of one another; Tav came face to face with the cambion’s well-endowed and well-engorged cock, her mouth went dry somewhere in the middle of ringing the water from her rag, and there was the painful realization that she might end up as the one begging.
Raphael languidly began to stroke himself - precum gathering at the tip.
Needing to clean and possessed by desire, Tav leaned in and swiped her tongue across the exposed head of him, causing Raphael to groan and twitch. She looked up, meeting brown, dilated pupils that were filled with longing, and there was the cursory thought that he, with his fiendish arrogance and pride, would simply take what he wanted rather than-
Tav’s musings were cut short when Raphael’s other hand wove itself into her hair.
“Tav.”
The sound of her name was perhaps the closest she would hear to a plea, and her response was automatic. Tav licked her lips before bringing them around the head of his cock, taking him into the heat of her mouth and planting her tongue against him. The rag was dropped and forgotten as her hand came to replace Raphael’s in wrapping around his shaft, and she took over in pumping him slowly, causing an audible breath to leave him. His hips reacted, matching her pace, and his fingers entwined in her hair - adding a gentle pressure to the back of her head as it moved.
Raphael’s heady gaze emboldened her to gradually increase her pace - her tongue circling and licking at his head, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked. His shaft became slick with her saliva, assisting her in her strokes…
And then she stopped with a teasing smirk. He growled in disapproval as Tav removed his cock from her mouth, and she did not blink as she snatched her rag and stood.
“Forgive me for getting distracted - I’d better go clean what was requested,” she rasped.
Every purposeful step she took away from Raphael and towards the pedestal caused her cunt to throb with need, and Tav decided to play out her fantasies; she would be the one to bend for him.
Up the few stairs she went with his eyes never leaving her, and she began to leisurely wipe down the top of the pedestal.
Oops! How clumsy of her to drop the rag behind the massive obstruction!
Needing, of course, to retrieve her item, Tav bent over the pedestal, positioning her stomach against the cool surface, and she made a half-hearted attempt to reach the rag while presenting herself to the cambion.
She gently wiggled her ass in invitation, and, at the sound of a burst, bootsteps became jingling bootsteps in their approach.
Her wiggling ceased the moment she sensed and felt Raphael behind her. The fabric of his clothes pressed against her bare skin, his cock nestled between her legs, and a delightfully warm, clawed hand splayed across her back to then follow down the line of her spine. The hand palmed her ass before giving her a firm spank.
Tav yelped in surprise and twisted to glare at the fiendish, winged and horned form of her ‘spouse’.
“A punishment for being so careless,” he said lowly, treating himself to a handful of her smarting cheek. “I warned you, did I not?”
“I suppose you did,” Tav conceded with a sigh. Her expression changed to include a charming smile as she batted her eyelashes. “But, be a dear and get me another rag so I may continue in my duty?”
“No,” Raphael said. His other hand gripped her hip while the hand on her ass traveled to her aching sex. Fingers slipped between her soaked lips and across the sensitive bud of her clit, causing her to jerk and keen. Raphael practically purred at his findings, and Tav gasped when two digits pushed inside her after a moment of exploration. “I have my mouse right where I want her - squirming under my claws.”
He began to pump, and the mouse squirmed as she held onto the pedestal.
“Have you always wanted this, my dear?” Raphael asked, curling his fingers to elicit a cry of a moan from her lips. “Why else would you offer what you did?”
“Yes, I’ve thought about this - too often…” Tav admitted in between breathlessness.
The claws at her hip dug further into her flesh, and Raphael hummed - sounding positively pleased by what he heard in the middle of positively pleasing her with his fingers. Once she was substantially wound up and to the point of nearly-begging, the cambion removed his digits, leaving Tav feeling empty and needing to be filled.
Eagerness and anticipation spiked her blood at the feeling of his ridged cock sliding between her lips. He coated himself with her desire for him before the head of him pushed at her entrance.
“As have I,” Raphael said, easing himself inside her walls with a shudder.
“Oh, gods!” Tav moaned. The size of him stretched her, and she choked on breaths as they both acclimated to one another.
He began to move, ripping pleasure through her body while both of his hands gripped her hips.
She clung to immovable marble as the devil she knew fucked her from behind. Raphael buried himself within her cunt with each thrust, and his rhythm seemed to match that of primal need. Her head turned to look at him, and his eyes ensnared her with a blazing fire that held flames of possessiveness.
“My Little Mouse,” he growled.
Danger manifested before her, and the meager amount of wisdom Tav had fought to keep her mouth shut - to neither confirm or deny his claim over her.
But every other aspect within her stupidly liked how it sounded…
“Oh, my lord husband! My Archdevil Supreme!” she exclaimed, causing Raphael to shudder again.
Well.
Her wisdom tried.
As he continued to fuck her, Tav wished to have access to her clit to help push her over the edge, but even if she was not to come undone herself, there was immense satisfaction to be felt and seen in the cambion’s undoing. He became absorbed in having his way with her, which was an ego boost as much as it was a turn on, and Tav was confident that her time for sexual bliss would come in the hours ahead.
Cleaning the House was no longer a priority for either of them.
“You should also know how often I’ve thought about you coming inside me - filling me with your seed...”
In exchange for her confession, Raphael growled something feral. A hand roamed across her skin before pushing into the small of her back, and she was held to him and pedestal both as his pace signified that his climax was nearing.
With a last, rough jerk of his hips, Raphael finished and spilled inside her cunt - his fingers trembling against her skin while every drop seeped into her womb.
His hold left her as he leaned forward and braced himself upon the sides of the pedestal surface. He panted over her, getting his bearings, and Tav was stunned when the cambion eventually leaned over to plant a kiss on her shoulder before slipping out of her and stepping back to give her room to move.
Tav peeled herself away from the marble, leaving perspiration behind.
“I would get my rag…” she cheekily remarked. “But I’m afraid I’m not done soiling this pedestal.”
Raphael’s head snapped to her, and he ravenously watched as she hopped up to properly sit upon the marble top, her legs spreading to showcase his come that leaked from her.
“What's next, dear husband?"
#this is all over the place#it be what it be#raphael bg3#raphael x tav#raphael x tav fanfiction#bg3#baldur’s gate 3#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction#my writing
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midnight thoughts: [heeseung + drunk words]
synopsis: real sweet, but you wish he was sober (alternatively, you take such good care of heeseung while he's drunk that he decides to tell you how he really feels).
pairing: heeseung x gn!reader
genre/warnings: hurt/comfort (?), f2l (ambiguous but still cute i promise) / EMETOPHOBIA TW (nothing happens but throwing up is mentioned, be cautious <3)!!!, drunk heeseung lol, tiny skz mention (my worlds colliding), um alcohol consumption (?), sunghoon is the dd don't worry there is no drunk driving!
wc: 1.4k (el oh el)a/n: inspired by model student heeseung in the first couple en-o'clocks who is unreasonably attractive but also ? a dork . that is all. (love u hee stans this one's for u hope u're doing okay lately w ur man acting the way he is.)
[1:16AM] six shots of tequila and a raspberry smirnoff ice deep, and lee heeseung is gone. strong surges of heat rush to his cheeks to create a dizzying push and pull effect, rivulets of sweat are beginning to drip from his temples, and he's trying his best not to vomit up the fried chicken jake and sunghoon made him eat earlier. heeseung finds solace on the cool tiles of the kitchen floor; he clutches the crisp fabric of his white button down and attempts to will away the waves of nausea that are crashing against the walls of his stomach. breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, heeseung's thoughts begin to drift back to a familiar place. he can almost feel the phantom sensation of your fingers carding through his hair; the tips of your fingers are refreshing and imbue him with a tranquility that he isn't often privy to.
"holy shit, dude—did we really let you get this fucked up?" heeseung vaguely registers jake's voice as two warm fingers reach under his jaw to check his pulse. inwardly, heeseung chuckles—leave it to biomedical engineering major, pre-anesthesiology track jake sim to presume death over everything else. glancing up, heeseung watches the genuine concern that flashes in the younger boy's gaze. "c'mon heeseung, we gotta get you home, bro. good god—[y/n] is actually gonna murder us …”
heeseung curls in on himself at the sound of your name, hiding away from the prodding of jake’s fingers into his upper arms. he wants to press his face into the crook of your neck, he aches to feel your hands cascading up and down the length of his spine, he yearns so desperately for a chance to indulge in a tender moment of unity with you. heeseung closes his eyes to relish in the way the memories seem to envelop him in a ghostly embrace, and he swears he only blinks once. the bass-boosted music and headache inducing strobe lights become mere background accompaniment to the movie playing behind his eyelids.
he swears he only blinks once, but the familiar aroma of your perfume begins to permeate his senses—bergamot and vanilla, his favorite. voices come into focus, his head starts to pound, and the reality of being splayed all over the backseat of sunghoon’s benz is setting in at the speed of falling molasses. "what the hell did you let him get into?" there's a certain venom in the question that bites at his jugular. he recognizes the cadence of your voice and the way you suck a sharp breath through your teeth with ease. "sigma kappa zeta is so out of hee's league—you couldn't have taken him to alpha tau zeta or tau chi tau or someplace that bang chan doesn't run?"
"he said he could handle it!" sunghoon counters.
you let an incredulous scoff escape your mouth as you berate the two boys in a hushed whisper, "and, you believed him? he obviously wanted to impress you idiots. god, i'm starting to think jongseong is the only one of you with a functioning brain ... "
"[y/n]!" jake exclaims, "so not chill."
"no—what's really not chill is tweedledumb and tweedledumber letting heeseung get wasted at his first frat party." you scold, voice cold as ice while jabbing an accusatory finger in their faces. jake and sunghoon hang their heads like dogs being told off for chewing up furniture; in any other situation, you might have had the inclination to chuckle, but you don't. "now, help him up to my couch and leave before i get even meaner."
everything is blurry as heeseung stumbles his way up the stairs to your apartment; sunghoon and jake are bickering with one another while supporting each side of his body—who is tweedledumb and who is tweedledumber, who let heeseung drink this much booze, who will have to recount tonight's escapades to jay, and who will have to give pity laughs to his impending dad jokes? they curse at one another until you mention the possibility of a noise complaint, and all the incessant chatter stops. in the midst of a spring night, only cricket song remains. heeseung focuses on the quiet chirping until the cool leather of your couch cushions begins to soothe the molten liquid that seems to course through his veins. goodbyes are exchanged and a door is closed somewhere far away, but heeseung's head is too heavy to lift.
he blinks again and opens his eyes to the rough fibers of an old washcloth running over the peaks and valleys of his face. the fabric brushes along the deep circles carved beneath his bloodshot eyes; concentration knits your forehead into a multitude of different creases, and heeseung can't help the pitiful chuckle that tumbles from his mouth. an airy sensation overtakes his being as he realizes that he's right where he had wanted to be all evening—with you. embarrassment still settles like an indestructible boulder in the pit of his stomach, however; shame's spindly talons sink into heeseung's flesh as he realizes just how much of a fool he's made out of himself.
"just—just wan'ed to be cool, [y/n]," heeseung slurs out, voice plagued with exhaustion. bringing his knees to his chest, heeseung attempts to keep his tears at bay. "just wan'ed to show you that i c'n be cool 'nd awesome 'nd sexy! but, now 'm just looking stupid on your couch ..."
placing the washcloth on the arm of the sofa, you move to rest heeseung's head in your lap. he gladly accepts the comforting gesture, cuddling into the soft cotton of sweatpants he realizes are his. combing your fingers through his roots and scratching at his scalp, you whisper, "for the record—i already think you're cool and awesome."
heeseung glances up at you, face swollen and eyes puffy. "really?" he asks, "so, you don't think i'm a stupid, un-sexy idiot that can't hold his liquor?"
"well, you can't hold your liquor," you muse with a hint of laughter in your voice, caressing the supple skin of his cheekbone, "but, no. i don't think you're a stupid, un-sexy idiot."
basking in the reality he was just confronted with, heeseung's drunken mind can only focus on one thing. his desperate need for clarification tempts him; desire's forked tongue beckons him towards the truth. the question repeats over and over again in his brain until it spills out—an unwilling victim of an inebriated perpetrator. "so ..." he drawls, attempting to wink but closing both eyes instead, "you think i'm sexy?"
and, you laugh. it's a euphoric sound—a beautiful melody reminiscent of spring picnics, gingham blankets, and the fragrant scent of blooming tulips. for a moment, heeseung loses himself in it; coherent thought escapes his grasp as he is overtaken by you. your touch, your warmth, the bleary image of your smile as it comes in and out of focus. you wash over heeseung in waves, an ocean of calm in a world that only seeks to burn; alluring siren song floods his mind as you call out to him over the sound of the blood pumping his ears. the cool tips of your fingers are beginning the quell the heat beneath heeseung's skin as consciousness begins to slip away from him, and a dopey grin is woven onto his lips.
"heeseung," you murmur, the ghost of a bout of giggles hiding behind your words. "hee, baby, you should really let me get up to grab you some advil."
the term tumbles from your mouth before you can help it, and you freeze. having revealed yourself, you're overcome by the desperate urge to run—but, heeseung has given you nowhere to go. his weight traps you, holding tight and pressing harder by the second. half of you wants to hear him say it back, while the other hopes for the couch cushions to swallow you whole. heeseung—though not a man of many surprises with his perfect grades, perfect attendance, perfect everything—manages to stun you tonight.
"wan' you t'call me that again, [y/n]," heeseung mumbles through sleep, "please."
"you want—" your voice catches in your throat, "you want me to call you baby?"
there's a beat of silence so long that you're almost sure heeseung has fallen victim to the salivating jaws of sleep, but he groans. the utterance is low and deep—dripping with what seems to be a concoction of mild annoyance, exasperation, and endearment. "'s all i've ever wanted, [y/n]," he replies, eyes closed and nose buried into your sweater, "you're all i've ever wanted."
another pause.
"okay," you say, meandering through the quiet for a moment, letting yourself wade towards him in this new sea of possibilities, "baby."
#enhypen fluff#enha fluff#heeseung fluff#enhypen reactions#; — cass writes: heeseung#heeseung headcanons#heeseung reactions#enhypen#enha headcanons#enha reactions#heeseung imagines#enhypen imagines#enha imagines#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#heeseung x reader#heeseung x yn
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‘Atta Girl’ | Tangerine x f!Reader (18+)
rating: 18+ (semi-public smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, profanity)
word count: 819
summary: In which Tangerine fingers f!reader in the bathroom of a fancy restaurant. Featuring lots of Tangerine's use of pet names and encouragement.
‘Mind and keep quiet if you don’t wanna get caught, love. Because you know I couldn’t really give a fuck if we do or not.’
‘You’re not making that easy!’ You replied with a shaky breath.
Tangerine chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the mess he was making of you. Few things got him off quite like having you stood on shaky legs with his fingers nestled between your thighs in a place like this.
Thankfully the bathroom had been empty since you slipped away with him and slammed the stall door closed, his lips on your neck and your fingers entwining with strands of his dark hair. Someone could still walk in at any moment. The bathroom wasn't even especially far from the restaurant’s bustling floor. Sound seemed to carry well in there too from the marble tiles to the soaring ceiling. Tangerine’s dress shoes had clicked loudly as he ushered you into that stall.
You had to at least try and keep quiet but he never made that easy.
‘Sorry, love.’ He responded like a man who absolutely was not sorry for any of this. You had outright asked for this but had wrongly presumed he’d make you wait until you got home to his place. It was easy to forget Tangerine was compulsive enough to finger you in a restaurant bathroom. ‘The worst that can happen is someone walks in and then you’ll really have to keep quiet. So for now just relax and enjoy it, yeah?’
You knew he had you. One thing about Tangerine is that he always makes sure to support your body and keep you close. So you decided to relax and trust that he had you, as he always did.
‘That’s it. Atta girl.’ He praised when you relaxed in his hold.
He liked watching your face as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, as he curled them to make your thighs quiver and shake. When you flung your head back against the wall of the bathroom stall it was like dangling a carrot on a string, your neck was just begging to be kissed. So he pressed his lips to it. The soft prickle along your neck from the hair upon his upper lip made you gasp.
‘I wish we were home right now so I could fuck you good and proper. You’d like that wouldn’t you?’ He mumbled against your skin and you groaned at the thought. ‘We wouldn’t even make it to the bedroom, love. I’d have you sprawled out on the fucking dining room table with your dress still on and all.’
He loved the way sweat gathered and glistened on your sweet skin, the sheer desperation for release that laced your every movement, your every half-swallowed cry.
‘God, look at you.’ He admired, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you look right now?’
Your clit pulsed beneath his thumb as he pressed down on it in smooth circles. His pace was steady and thorough enough that you cried out so loud he had to kiss you to muffle the sound.
‘Careful.’ He warned. ‘As much as I love the sound of your pretty voice we don’t want to cut this short now do we?’
You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and waistcoat until your fingers cramped; Anything in a bid to relieve tension as he flexed his fingers inside of you so deliciously. It made him want to ravish you, to wrap your legs around his waist and have you right against the stall.
‘I’m close!’ Your voice wavered. The pace of his fingers sent heat down your back, pooling in your stomach like white-hot amber. Your entire body tensed. Your breath fell so heavy and quick.
‘You gonna come for me? Come on now, I know it’s gonna be beautiful.’
So you let the floodgates open.
He kept up the pace of his fingers even as you buried your head in his shoulder to muffle yourself, to keep your voice from bouncing off the walls. You barely even registered that he was praising you until you felt his lips on your forehead and the fullness dissipating along with his fingers from within you.
‘You alright, gorgeous?’ He asked with a gentle gaze and the softest touch to your cheek. ‘You did so well.’
You nodded and still held onto him as you caught your breath and your limbs softened. Tangerine was in no mood to rush your recovery. Instead, he took to smoothing your dress back down for you before pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist. His clothes were just as much of a mess as yours were from your clawing at them but he couldn't bring himself to care.
‘Do you think our food’s gone cold?’ You questioned once your breath evened.
‘It most certainly has, I reckon.’ He replied with a laugh.
Tagging: @icy-spicy @simpingforclaudette (Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the Tangerine tag list <3)
#tangerine#tangerine bullet train#tangerine x reader#bullet train#bullet train movie#aaron taylor johnson#fic#reader insert#one shot#mine#my writing#k.exe#not sfw
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✧ Pretty Little Thing Ch.1 ✧
♡ Pairing ♡ - Rafe Cameron x Plus Size!Reader
♡ Warnings ♡ - Smut, Oral (f receiving), dirty talk, derogatory names, free use kink, Unprotected sex, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, mean!Rafe, some praise kink, mentions of blood, and unedited mistakes.
♡ A/N ♡ - This is so self-indulgent, it's not even funny. I swear I blacked out writing this. Anyway, Pls enjoy
♡ Word count ♡ - 2.5k
I tapped the top of his forehead, heavy breaths constricting my words as I attempted to form them. My brain felt comparable to mush, but I simply couldn’t take it anymore. He lifted his head up, his pupils blown wide, the familiar green now a simple ring around a black abyss. His nose, mouth, and essentially the entire lower half of his face glistened with a mixture of my slick and his spit in the soft glow of the lamp on my side table. He looked depraved and the only thing satiating him was between my legs, since his incessant need to see how many times I could come needed to be answered. It was three to be exact and each one more drawn out than the one before as I have now reached the limit one could handle the blissful feeling.
“I- can’t, Rafe. I can’t-” I breathed out with each word, the overstimulation thwarting my ability to form a proper sentence. I looked down at my thighs that he gripped with such fervor in his time between them and sure enough bruises littered my skin. I couldn’t complain, purely due to the fact that they were developed from a place of pleasurable pain. Rafe blew out a sharp breath from his nose, a look of frustration taking over his cold features. I wanted to reach and caress his face, my hand even itching to do so, yet I refrained from the intimate action.
It wasn’t much earlier he was furiously banging on my window, and out of fear of him shattering the glass and waking up the other members of my family at three in the morning, I had allowed him in. He didn’t even waste a breath of explaining the blood on his shirt, or the raw skin of his knuckles. He simply used his stance and intimidation to coerce me into stepping back until the back of my legs had hit the end of my bed, the cool comforter contrasting the heat that began to inflame my skin. He simply pushed on my shoulder, enough to make me understand he wanted me on the bed, presumably to open my mouth and satisfy him. Yet, he surprised me by pushing my shoulder further until my back was reclined against the comfort of my bed. I had propped myself up on my elbows in time to see his large frame kneel before me and hook the thigh of my leg over his shoulder. I blush even now as I reminisce the sound of my panties tearing, since they seemed to pose an impediment to his intention between my legs. The ripped fabric now disregarded behind him, and he began before I could wonder why he was so reluctant to speak a word.
Rafe now pushed my leg off his shoulder, the weight of it hitting the floor sounding a thump against the wood floor under us. He stood to his full height, beginning to unbutton his shirt, the blood splattered across it registering in my mind again. He stepped towards my bathroom, turning on the light and looking over himself. He washed his hands after scanning his own frame, making sure there were no open wounds and such. I sighed and stood up, gripping the post of my bed frame as the sudden feeling of my legs shaking and not being able to hold all of my weight yet. I fell back onto the bed, my legs still shaking, and I looked over at Rafe. “Can you bring me a hand towel please?” I requested, bold in doing so since he seemed as if the last thing he wanted was to be fetching me things. He tossed me the hand towel on the counter of the bathroom sink and I used it to wipe down between my legs and inner thighs. I conjured enough strength to stand up, the shake of my legs down to a minimum now as I made my way towards my bathroom.
I watched as he squeezed a hand towel that he had used to wipe himself down, the water he wrung from it tinted red. He winced lightly as he wiped his knuckles down, looking at his hands with a face of disappointment. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” My voice was soft and low when I asked the question. I leaned on the door frame, looking up at him as he continued, shaking his head before looking at me. “No, I don’t want to talk. I just want to sleep. Can I do that without you asking me fifty fucking questions?” His jaw ticked, his eyes cutting into me deeper than his words. I let out a low breath as I nodded, pushing off the door frame and positioning myself into bed. I turned off the light coming from the lamp beside me, tucking myself into my comforter. He wasn’t far behind me, turning the light off in the bathroom as well before discarding his khakis with his shirt, dressed only in his boxers. He was an Adonis, I could admit, but never to his face.
Rafe climbed into the other side of the bed, under the comforter, and I was immediately greeted with his body heat. He reached his arms out, wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me into him as he met me halfway. He folded his other arm under my head, acting it as a pillow and inhaling my scent from behind me. I adjusted myself, reluctant to relax against him. He seemed to notice, deciding to pull me in more, his hand moving to cup my breast and placing a small chaste kiss on the back of my neck. “Don’t do that.” I muttered, squirming slightly to drive my point. Rafe didn’t seem to like the bite back I gave, but he let it go.
I’m not sure what exactly prompted me to agree to our relationship. It was formed organically, I’ll admit. It was conjured one night about six months ago, the two of us finding solace in each other after sharing a bottle of whiskey and ended up entangled in his sheets. After that, we started using each other more than we anticipated and decided to clarify the boundaries of our relationship. It was simple, I was to present myself to him whenever he wanted, establishing a free use aspect and in exchange, I received weekly deposits into my account for a thousand dollars. After the first couple of times, Rafes respect for me slowly diminished, and I didn’t blame him. But I needed the money, and I wasn’t going to bite back and lose out of the only thing that’s aiding me in getting out of this hellhole one day.
-
The next day, when the sun graced my eyes, I felt the secure arms of Rafe still surrounding me, alarm instantly shooting through me. “Rafe.” I called, patting his arms and attempting to pull on his wrists to release me, yet his grip seemed to tighten. “Rafe, wake up.” I nudged my elbow into his side and that seemed to wake him. Immediately, he released his hold on me, blinking rapidly as he looked around my room as if it was unfamiliar. “What time is it?” He asked in a groggy voice and I took in his state of disheveled hair, a flushed face due to warmth and the sun catching the gorgeous green of his eyes. I looked at my phone screen. “It’s 8:45. My shift at the country club starts at 9:15.” I urged, moving out of my bed, rushing to discard my sleepwear. I pulled open my dresser, pulling out my assigned polo and a white pleated skirt. Apparently, the uniform is appealing to golfers according to my managers when I requested to wear something with more coverage.
I looked over my shoulder at Rafe, seeing that he hasn’t made any haste to dress himself. I walked to him as I put on my polo and stood at his bedside with my hands on my hips. “Rafe, I really need to leave, and you can’t stay here. I’m kicking you out.” The angry expression on my face and my point to my window he had entered through not even six hours earlier seemed rude, but I wasn’t going to take any of his shit this early. I was only met with a smirk on his face as he removed one of his hands from behind his head and flipped back my comforter, uncovering his morning wood. “No, I’ll be late.” I rolled my eyes at his suggestion, stalking to the other side of my room to put on panties and my skirt. “It wasn’t a request.” He said as he rose from my bed, striding over to me. His hand was on his cock over his boxers, smoothing over it to entice himself.
He was right, I technically couldn’t say no, that was our agreement. Rafe turned me around, his large hands holding my hips as he brought them back so he could grind on my ass. He made a sharp intake, leaning forward and placing a small kiss on my shoulder, my hands holding onto his wrists on either side of me. “Please be quick.” I pouted as he walked us over to my bed, his large hand splayed out on my back and pushed me down into the mattress to bend over for him. I blushed at the small feeling of a wetness growing between my thighs, and I planted my face in the mattress as I let him have his way with me. I could feel him drawing out this sudden need for me as he slowly pulled down my panties. “These are starting to get in my way. You’re not wearing them anymore after today, understood?” He asked and I nodded. Rafe caught me off guard, spanking my ass cheek and gripping the flesh harshly as I yelped out. “Understood?” He repeated. “Yes, I understand.”
He flipped up my skirt, kneading the flesh of my ass in his hands, his favorite part of my body. He’s never confessed this to me, but he always played with me before inserting himself, so I deduced. I looked over my shoulder at him and watched as he licked his fingers to abruptly insert in me, yet a devilish grin overcame his face. “You’re already so fucking wet for me.” He teased as he lined himself up with my entrance before sinking into me until he couldn’t further. We both moan at the familiar and exciting feeling, one that I wouldn’t care to admit. “Rafe, just fuck me already.” I was beginning to get impatient and not due to my lack of punctuality when it came to my job but because each time he entered me, I found myself wanting it more and more. He let out a low chuckle, taking himself out and resting himself between my ass cheeks, pushing them together to create friction as he dragged himself back and forth.
“I’ll take my sweet fucking time with you.” He spoke, and I let out a gasp as he reached and gripped my hair, pulling on it, and I let out a wince. Rafe entered me again, before pulling himself out slowly and rutting back into me. I moaned at each thrust, the slap of his hips hitting my ass sounding along with my whimpers. I gripped the sheets of my bed, moaning as he pulled on my hair, my neck craning back. His pace picked up, his hand letting go of my hair and placing both hands on my hips, pushing me forward just to pull me back harder. “Rafe, I can’t.” I whimpered, a mix of pleasure and pain conjuring with each of his thrusts, Rafe reached and hooked his hand under my knee, resting it on the bed. It seemed to open me up, allowing him to glide in and out of me with ease and giving me a sense of relief.
“Shut up, you fucking slut.” Rafe spit out, spanking my ass. He liked degrading me, sure to remind me of my lack of self-respect since I let him fuck me whenever he likes. Worst part, It kills me that I wasn't repulsed by it, almost welcoming it. Rafe moaned, his thrusts becoming more powerful, signifying he was close to cumming. I reach behind me and grip Rafe’s wrist, silently telling him to calm down, but it doesn’t leave my lips, the pleasure blurring any words that I attempt to speak. “You take my cock so well.” He groaned, digging his fingers into my hips as he fucked me with slow, languid strokes, adding to my torment. I looked at the wall opposite of my bed where my dresser sits, and a large mirror hung above it. I can see Rafe taking his time, watching his cock disappear inside me before pulling out and inserting himself back in. “Rafe, please.” I mewl, watching him in the mirror, almost entranced by the view in front of him. Something clicked, and he continued his pounding, his hips moving faster as they smacked against my own.
Then, I felt the familiar throb of Rafes cock, followed by a string of moans as he releases inside me, filling me up with his cum. I sag against the bed, dropping the leg he had hiked up for better access. Rafe pants behind me, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he smacks my ass once more. “Fuck, that doesn’t get old. It’s like you get tighter every time.” Rafe pulled out, my walls clenching around nothing as his cum dripped out of me and I immediately crossed my ankles, hopefully holding it in long enough for me to saunter to the bathroom to clean up.
I push off the bed, but I’m stopped before I make any progress, Rafes hand pressing me down on the bed. “What’re yo-” I’m interrupted by a gasp I let out as I feel the fabric of a towel being wiped over my thighs. I look over at the mirror once more and to my surprise, Rafe is cleaning me up. He never has in all of our times together, usually worrying about himself and not even considering me. There were times he’d finish in me, tuck himself away and leave before I could even blink. “Thank you.” I muttered, standing upright when he finished cleaning me up. I pulled up my panties as Rafe got dressed, lacing up my shoes as well. “I’ll take you to work.” He said, putting on his shirt, and I shook my head. “No, it’s fine, I’ll grab a ride from my br-”
“I’m taking you to work.” He repeats himself, his look stern, and I simply nod in response. Before I could put up any more protest, he made his way out of my window, likely to start his truck up before I made it downstairs.
Whoever this new Rafe was, he was starting to grow on me.
-
Hope you guys liked it!! and lmk what you think of the new format with the small lettering :)
#Rafe cameron#Rafe Cameron x reader#Rafe cameron smut#outer banks smut#outer banks#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron angst#Rafe Cameron x plus size!reader
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Rick/reader/Daryl are a throuple and the Alexandria residents don’t know how to react.
.⋆｡Her Poor Cat｡⋆.
Daryl x plus size reader x Rick
Obviously the Alexandrians were pretty vanilla
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and smut, bit of a crack fic, humour, fluff
WC: 900
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
The welcome party was an interesting touch to the new-comers. It was so weirdly reminiscent of the old world with the nice clothes and good food and alcohol but at the same time, many in the room carried that haunted look in their eyes from the hell just outside the walls. But the food was fresh and the company was pleasant enough.
Carl had scrambled off a couple minutes ago, presumably to try and sneak some whiskey behind his father’s back, leaving you alone with a sleepy Judith perched on your wide hip. Her chunky hand tightly clutched at your shirt as her big blue eyes fluttered.
“Mama.” She muttered, nuzzling further into your hold. You gently cupped the back of her head and began to sway softly.
“We’ll leave soon, just need to find your dads and make sure they don’t get into any trouble.” Your eyes skipped over the crowd but you were quickly stopped by someone coming up beside you.
“It’s so good to see healthy children during these times.” Deanna seemed less focused on you and more on the now half-asleep child in your arms, which you were incredibly grateful for considering that your poker face wasn’t as good as it used to be and she legitimately freaked you out.
Judith grumbled as you hitched her higher on your hip. “Judy is an easy baby, pretty much eats anything that gets put in front of her.” You chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“You and Rick must be very proud of your kids.”
Your eyes widened. “Oh, it’s not-“
A strong arm was suddenly wrapped around your thick waist and you were tugged back into their hard stomach. The scent of cigarettes and motor oil filled your senses as Daryl’s lips brushed against your earlobe. You watched as Deanna went pale, obviously coming to her own conclusion about your relationship with the archer.
“I-I didn’t realise, given how affectionate you are with the kids, I thought Rick was your partner.” You could feel Daryl’s broad chest rumble with discontent.
“So what if he is?” The noise from the party faded away to a faint whisper as all eyes turned to you. Internally, you groaned, vowing to get some sort of revenge on your boyfriend.
“I’m sorry?” Deanna seemed genuinely confused but you knew that whatever was about to come out of Daryl’s mouth would not serve to lessen that feeling.
With your free hand, you dug your fingers into his hip, urging him to shut the hell up but like always, Daryl refused to listen. “So what if we’re both fucking her?”
And there it was. Your body sagged with embarrassment as heat raced up your neck, blooming across your cheeks. “You fucking asshole.” Your group all seemed to be holding back their laughter as the Alexandrians were suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. You heard Carl groan loudly from somewhere behind you. “Not again.”
“Both of them?” Spencer materialised beside his mother, jaw practically on the floor. “At the same time?”
Just as Daryl’s mouth opened once more to very rudely answer the mayor’s son, Rick’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. His grip was light enough to appear friendly but the way his fingers curled into his collarbone kept the other man silent. “What Daryl meant to say is that we are all in a relationship together.”
You then made the mistake of making eye contact with Maggie and Carol who both seemed to be on the edge of suffocation as they desperately tried to stop giggling. You glared at the women and got back a rather rude gesture from Carol that restarted their laughter anew.
“I think I need to get Judy to bed.” You tried to pull away from Daryl’s grip but the stubborn man he was, he just held you tighter.
“How does that work?” The question came from a woman towards the back. You could practically feel Rick’s smirk as he cleared his throat but very quickly, another woman decided to answer for him.
“Obviously they take turns.” A murmur of agreement filled the room followed by- “Oh her poor vagina.” This makes Glenn snort into his drink.
With a horrified look on her face, Deanna spoke again. “This is highly inappropriate.” Yet no one seemed to hear her because someone else piped up.
“I can’t believe that she isn’t pregnant all the time.”
“I think that’s enough of that! Thank you all for the wonderful party, but we really should be going now.” Your voice boomed, starling Judith awake but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. Daryl went easily enough as your fingers clamped down on his wrist and you pulled him along, although there was a prideful smile on his lips.
But Rick had other ideas. “It’s not like we don’t try every chance we get.” Faster than you thought you were capable of, you dropped Daryl’s hand and your arm darted out, grabbing Rick’s ear with a force that made him visibly flinch.
“I said that’s enough.” You snarled and tugged him towards the front door, Daryl trailing close behind you. “Goodnight.” The door slammed shut behind you, leaving behind a room full of stunned Alexandrians and your friends who were all laughing loudly.
“Well, I guess that cleared that up.” Deanna murmured and took a long pull of her drink.
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I held my nose I closed my eyes - I took a drink; Jimmy x Reader
Summary: Reader is a hypnotist. Jimmy, in one of his drunken nights, cleans out his own supply and stumbles into your caravan to clean you out too. What he finds... is sooo much better. [warnings: 18+! sex pollen fic!! shameless, explicit smut, I'm so serious. female receiving, oral sex, rough sex, mentions of alcohol.]
Also! Hugely inspired by @silverzoomies' mindbogglingly good Quicksilver sex pollen fic - the queen of sex pollen as far as I'm concerned!! Please read it if you haven't!!
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ao3 link here! | full fic under the cut!
The calliope breathed its melodic tune as your fingers curled back towards your palm. The man in front of you was glassy-eyed and pliable.
“Bark!” You snapped your fingers.
Almost immediately, the man let out a string of excited woofs, much to the delight of the audience. Laughs and scattered applause filled the tent, the loudest of laughs coming from the front row — from his presumed wife.
“Ladies and gentlemen! While I am using hypnotism for your pleasure and amusement today, I implore you… to consider that hypnotism can be used for good. It can be used to cure sicknesses of addiction, turn the fearful into the brave… or perhaps make someone fall in love with you.”
The man swayed languidly back and forth, following your graceful fingers as they swept through air. You brought the man’s attention to you with one finger, whispering soft words of release. You snapped your fingers for a final time and the man came to, dropped back into his own reality in a mess of confusion and wobbly knees. Unbeknownst to you, this regular Joe wasn’t the only man unsteady on his feet. A dozen or so yards away, the beloved Lobster Boy was drunkenly stumbling into your trailer, looking for some more booze to drown his woes.
As he stood in front of your cabinet, he surveyed the collection. Dried herbs, crystals, some of those cards that he’d seen the travelling gypsies use… and a ton of bottles. Scanning until he found something that most resembled some liquor — though everything was questionable — Jimmy palmed the one of the two largest bottles, lifting it to the light to get a better look. The dark liquid sloshed heavily around inside, and while he knew he was drunk, he could’ve sworn it sparkled.
Flipping the cork out with his thumb, Jimmy pinched his nose, squeezed his eyes shut and threw the contents of the bottle into the back of his throat, having enough to sense to avoid whatever taste was going to meet him. Whatever it was went down smoothly, leaving a syrupy, sweet coating on his throat. A line of deep burgundy trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his tongue flicked out to catch it.
“Hooo,” he grimaced and shuddered hard enough to lose his grip on the bottle. It clattered to the floor loudly. “That’s rough.”
His throat felt warm, but the feeling started in his thighs, of all places. Underneath his dusty black jeans, the muscles felt like he’d gone and pressed them against a bed of coals. It was hot in Jupiter, not that hot — but Jimmy Darling felt like he had the fever of the century. Sweat beaded at his hairline, running salty ribbons down his temples.
And then, he felt it. Concealed in his cotton briefs, heat rushed to his groin at breakneck speed. It couldn’t have taken more than thirty seconds for his cock to stand at attention as though he’d been working it up all night. His jeans tented and the pressure wasn’t very forgiving. No, it was downright painful. The blood switched heads and he could think of nothing else but you. Jimmy wanted to be inside you, feeling your weeping cunt clench with each thrust. He wanted to lick his fingers clean of your — “Come on!”
Jimmy drew the back of his hand across his forehead, wiping at the sweat. As the seconds ticked by, his body temperature continued to climb. He knew he had to do something before he actually became a lobster, bright red and steaming. With one hand, Jimmy unbuckled his pants and yanked the button free of its slit. The small give in restriction allowed his stiff cock to breathe, but Jimmy pulled the elastic of his briefs under his balls, wincing at the static electric feeling that physical touch brought.
His cock sprung free, bouncing heavily. It looked full, and pre-cum was already leaking out the velvet soft tip. He couldn’t describe it mentally any other way — needs emptyin’.
You had graciously taken one more participant before making your way back to your caravan, pulling your high heels off as soon as you were out of the tent. You padded softly across the grass, humming some disjointed melody. The tips had been good tonight, and you’d been looking forward to the iced tea in your tiny little fridge all day. "…Gotta’ hank o’ hair and a piece o’ bone and made a walkin’-talkin’ honeycomb.”
Stepping onto the wood crates that served as doorsteps, you pulled the door towards you, still singing quietly.
“…well uh honeycomb, wontcha’ be my baby, well uh honeycomb wontcha’ be my own — ”
With your index finger still curled around the handle of the screen door, your body froze, voice leaving your throat. Jimmy Darling leaned against your bed. Not just that — Jimmy Darling leaned against your bed, caramel locks plastered to his forehead with sweat. His pants were undone in his lap, and his fused fingers were glistening with his own cum. You’d only looked at it for a split second before you clamped your hand over your eyes, but it wasn’t soon enough to stop the visual searing its way into your brain. The way the swollen, red tip slid through his conjoined fingers as he clumsily tried to jerk himself off…
At the sound of the door, Jimmy immediately started crawling towards you, muttering desperate words of gratitude. Like a hound on the scent of a rabbit, his nose had clocked the earthy sweetness of your perfume oil the second you’d walked in. He needed to get closer to it and to you. There was another smell — a sweeter one — that he licked off his lips as he made a beeline for you.
“Oh, baby, baby, baby….” He growled low, words separated by hiccups. “I’m real glad you’re here. I messed up… uhhuuummmm - real bad.”
On his knees in front of you, Jimmy wrapped his hands around your legs, claws stroking the backs of your knees. Paired with the fact that he’d never called you baby, the contrast of his warm, strong hands against your delicate legs gripped your core, setting the first trap of arousal. A moment later, his lips collided with your shins, feverishly peppering kisses along them as he worked his way up.You closed your eyes, exhaling hard through your nose.
His head dove under your skirt and you let out a shrill yelp.
“J-Jimmy Darling! Stop, stop!” You wrenched your leg from his grip, his slick fingers gliding off your calf muscle as you hastily stepped around him. “What in the hell has gotten into you!?”
He fell forward onto his hands, letting out a sound you’d never heard a man make. His dick hung heavy between his legs and thick strands of pre-cum swelled from the tip, stringing to the floor with every slight movement of his hips. His lust just wouldn’t stop yelling, drowning out every other rational thought he had. It was as loud as when Elsa brought her megaphone to the stage, shouting orders at the top of her lungs -- louder maybe. Jimmy reached for his aching cock to give it a few desperate pumps, tightening his grip as he drew towards the base. The sensation crippled him, bringing him forward onto his face. …so damn sensitive…. I need her…..
He’d always been able to satisfy himself, even as drunk as he was now; after every meeting with the Girls, when some gal in the crowd got a little too flirty — he’d never had an issue taking himself in his pincers and rubbing one out. But this… this wasn’t enough and he was damn tired.
Every cell in your body was begging you to keep staring at the way he handled himself, alternating between stroking the thick shaft, and doing quick, smaller thrusts to stimulate the ruby tip. Jimmy groaned into the vinyl floor of your trailer as he decorated it with strings of white.
Did he just cum…?
Underneath your skirt, your cunt fluttered with a bloom of heat.
Although it had been difficult to walk away, you somehow managed and stopped just short of your kitchen counter, which had been converted into a short shelf. All of your tonics, amulets and tools of your craft were neatly arranged there. Were. They were…. Previously. The empty space in your cabinet was suddenly very apparent.
Suddenly noticing that you had left — or maybe he smelled that you had left, Jimmy’s lids peeled away from each other. He turned his head just enough to stare up at you with heavy-lidded eyes. The curve of your ass underneath your skirt made his dick twitch upwards, reaching for relief. With his cheek smashed against the vinyl flooring, Jimmy’s words were distorted behind you. “Aaah— you’re sucha’…. dream Dolly, you know that?”
You closed your eyes, kicking your foot to the side. It collided with something, with an unmistakable tink! just like you’d predicted it would. Sucking in another deep breath, you dropped your gaze to your feet. A very empty amber bottle had been tossed haphazardly to the floor.
You heard him shuffling to his feet behind you, catching himself on whatever surface was near enough for him to grip. Through ragged pants, he continued. “I’ve always thought that — ever since you got here, the very first day…. Laid eyes on you and thought ‘Hot damn! We’ve got a sex-pot headlining.’ Youkn—”
“Jimmy…?” you asked, warningly. Planting both of your hands firmly on the counter, you pacified your mind, lassoing it in from the field of panic-stricken thoughts. “Tell me you didn’t drink this whole thing….”
Instead of dispelling your fears, a broad chest pressed against your back and two arms wound themselves around the front of your hips. Jimmy’s body felt like a furnace against yours, and the sudden pressure between your ass cheeks had you clawing the laminate countertop like a feral animal.
He’s still hard as a rock…
He was sweaty and smelled like sun and liquor; a smell that you’d become very attracted to in the few weeks you’d been here. Every time he passed by, you’d inhale, filling your lungs with it. He kissed the nape of your neck like he’d just got home from work, missing you all day.
“How many times have you orgasmed?” You didn’t want to know the answer.
“Mmm, only uh’ couple times…. I’m sss-sorry baby…” he slurred, pressing his face into your hair, loudly inhaling the scent of it. His voice was barely a whisper, but it was so close to your ear, it sent shivers down your spine. “You aren’t mad at me, are ya?”
His little mistake wasn’t about having too much of his Mama’s hooch in that little flask she carried around. Well, maybe that too… You’d got those potions from a lady in New Orleans in 1946 and she’d warned you about the dosage… “a silver teaspoon, nothin’ more, you understand?” She said it came straight from Marie Laveau and wasn’t to be trifled with. Jimmy Darling had consumed a whole bottle and now, his swollen cock was dribbling into the cotton fabric of your skirt.
“No,” you breathed shakily, reaching up to press your middle finger to the bridge of your nose. “I’m not… but you’re in for a real storm, Jimmy Darling. It’s — was— love potion, you know that?”
“Love potion, huh? Didn’t think that was real.” He questioned lazily how to fix it, more interested in his hands sliding up your stomach, manoeuvring until they’d found skin.
“You have to do what you were put on Earth to do. That basic instinct — and I sure I wish I could tell you once would be enough. But Jimmy,” you paused, inhaling sharply. “The dose for a man of your size is a teaspoon.”
“A man of my size…” Woozy chuckles vibrated your shoulders. “Seems like you’re the gal to see — you know an awful lot about it.”
Frustrated, you cocked your hip to the side, doing your best to sort out the thoughts. You knew the only solution was to fuck it out of his system, but you hadn’t really thought you’d be ending your night with him. Jimmy let out a loud moan, bucking his hips further in between your legs. You felt the heat of it, searing through the thin fabric. He bucked again and rolled his forehead along your shoulders, whining.
“Hooo…. you can’t move like that, baby. I’ll flip.”
You whimpered his name as you lifted your eyes to the ceiling, cursing whatever deities were looking down on you, waiting on bated breath for your next move. You’d waited a long time for something like this. So long in fact, that you had almost turned to waving your enchanting fingers in front of his face, like one of the ticket-holders, hypnotising him to look at you for longer than a few minutes. Instead, his mercurial alcoholism had planted him right in front of you. Well, behind you.
With his hips still rutting into you, grinding incessantly, he murmured into your ear: “I’m sorry I’m actin’ this way… but you haveta’ help me, baby…. Help me, please… I’m gonna’ lose my mind if I do—“
“I know, Jimmy.”
As you walked your legs out to the sides, you hoisted the back of your skirt above your ass. Watching intently, he backed his hips up allowing you room to reach between your legs and search for him. Your fingertips grazed the base, just above his balls. With a final prayer that Jimmy Darling wouldn’t forget about you as soon as the potion had run its course in his body, you wrapped your fingers around his shaft, already slick with a generous coating of pre-cum, and guided him in between your thighs.
Jimmy’s hands were suddenly at your hips, taking fistfuls of your skirt and shoving it up towards the small of your back. With a grunt, he wound one of his claws around the hem of your satin underwear, wiggling it down from one side. He thrust his hips forward and the hot tip slipped past your entrance, grinding into your clit from the underside.
Jimmy’s low, honey voice was reduced to high pitched whimpers and broken whines. Your insides pulsed with a hungry need…
“Hoh-god…”
“No,” you spat. “This isn’t right, not like this. Jimmy, I really —“
He didn’t let you finish. Conjoined fingers gripped your biceps hard, spinning you around so fast, the intent was blurry. For a minute, his face was contorted, frustrated and the way his chest heaved wound a nervous coil in your stomach.
Instead of striking you, or whatever you thought he was going to do, Jimmy crushed his lips against you, desperate for any sort of erotic contact. His hands found their way to your breasts, cupping them, while his thumb flicked at your nipples over the fabric. “I gotta’ have you, honey…”
You pursed your lips, tightening them into a thin line. In one fluid, frustrated motion, you pulled your shirt over your head. You unclasped your bra, holding his gaze and barked: “Then, take me.”
He forced his tongue into your mouth. You remembered the time you’d bit into a honeycomb as a child. As sweet as you thought it would be, and as sweet as it was, there was something very overwhelming about it. There was a word for it — cloying. As he explored your mouth, Jimmy tasted bitter, and cloyingly sweet… and god, was he drooling? There was so much spit that you had to swallow a mouthful just to avoid choking. His tongue wrestled with yours, teeth biting at your lips until they were red and swollen.
Your lids snapped open and you felt your pupils dilate. A warm, sweet heat rose from the base of your throat, filling your mouth. There were hints of honey, and spices, and underneath a very bitter fruitiness.
Oh… oh no.
He didn’t know what was going on inside of you, but he revelled in the way you started moaning and whimpering into his mouth, grinding your cunt against his groin. Jimmy’s hands dropped to grip the soft, pillowy flesh of your hips, his thumb pressing into the softness. “Fuck baby, your body… you can’t see these hips under that skirt you wear all the time.”
“This ain’t enough,” he cooed, pushing you towards your small sofa-bed with kisses. “I need to fill you up, Y/N….”
You were more than willing to let him guide you to the bed; though you knew the majority of your disposition was due to you already having a big, silly crush on him. Jimmy lowered himself down, one knee at a time, keeping his eyes locked on the table laid in front of him.
Hastily, Jimmy pulled your skirt to the floor, kicking it behind him. He made quick work of your underwear too — though those didn’t join the pile of clothes. He lifted those, the satin fabric dangling from one of his thickened fingers, swaying back and forth. You did your best to avoid looking at the wet spot you’d left in the crotch of them, though Jimmy seemed to have locked onto that and only that.
“Pink, huh?”
You chewed your bottom lip bashfully. “I’m not all crystal balls and veils, Jimmy…”
At those words, his eyes flashed to your cunt, pupils dilating. He chucked your underwear over his shoulder, refocusing his attention onto you. Jimmy spread your pussy with his knuckles, exposing the pink, glistening flesh. His laboured breaths slowed as he focused, watching every clench and twitch. “Baby, baby, baby….”
He was just staring at it. Your cunt ached as he teased it with feather-light touches.
“Can I?”
You moaned, asking for clarification. Not that you needed it — he could do whatever he wanted to you and he wouldn’t hear a peep of protest from you. You were a mess, like butter in his claws.
“Can I eat it, baby? I’m hungry… I’m a growin’ boy…”
It took a lot of effort to lift your head to look at him. You were swimmy; everything felt rose-tinted.
“Yeah,” you nodded, wetting your throat. “Yeah, Jimmy, but I think if you grow any more… we’ll have a problem.”
He let out a breathy chuckle, pausing to look at himself. It was true; his cock had never been this hard, and the tip was such a deep red that it was heading to plum.
With one segment buried deep inside your slick cunt and the other curled back towards his palm, Jimmy leaned in. His plush lips pressed tenderly against her, tongue slipping out to taste her in between kisses. You strained against his grip, writhing like a worm on a hook.
“You taste so good,” he murmured, finally pulling away from her. His chin was glistening — you almost wanted to apologise for the mess you’d made. He didn't seem to mind though, as he reached up, wiping at his chin with his hand. The way his thick, fleshy segments looked coated in your wetness, the way they caught the dull, yellow lighting of your trailer — it was enough to make you cum right then and there. You collapsed back on the bed in a mess of whimpers and Jimmy took that opportunity to dive back in.
He caved his tongue to envelop your clit, the vibrations of his moans sending a shockwave through your core. Before he started pumping his fingers in and out, Jimmy Darling did something that could’ve sent you into another dimension; he just sucked at your clit, flicking his tongue over the most sensitive spot he could.
He slurped at your cunt like an ice cream cone, one that was melting faster than he could catch — but he did a damn good job of getting every drop. He was loud and sloppy. He’s so hungry for it…
Your body trembled violently as you came, grinding against his mouth as long as you could before he backed up, dipping his head further in between your legs so he could feel the clench of your orgasm around his tongue.
He straightened up with a satisfied ‘Mmm’, jerking his head to the side with a smile. “Sweet as candy, baby…”
Crossing his arms over his torso, Jimmy pulled his white undershirt up and over his shoulders before tossing it behind him. Ribbons of sweat streamed down the tanned skin, leaving glittering lines across his chest.
“Jimmy,” you whined. “Hand me the other bottle.”
He obeyed, reaching behind him for it. His big hand closed around the cool, brown glass, and brought the cork to his mouth. His teeth clamped down and yanked it free. A small whiff of the potion inside made his eyes roll back, but he quickly regained control, looking down at you with a devilish little smirk. He knew exactly what you’d planned to do. He took one generous gulp, swallowed, and said:
“Open up, toots.”
You obeyed, and Jimmy Darling poured the love potion — too, too much of it down your throat. You coughed, sputtering some of it onto the pillow of your bottom lip, and he lapped it up.
The devil worked fast, but hoodoo potions worked faster.
Sweat beaded up from every pore, coating your body in an aroused sheen. You’d felt like you’d been sunbathing all afternoon, with no lake or pool in sight. You felt like your cunt was on fire. It had a heartbeat as strong as the one encased in your ribs. You had one thing on your mind — and that thing was stroking himself as he watched the change in you.
“Ohhhh, shit….” He took a deep breath, inhaling the pheromones that had abruptly filled the tiny space. You smelled them too, and the adrenaline dump made your muscles quiver. Jimmy’s dark brown eyes were wild as they locked onto your eyes, his cheeks flushed red. “Oh, now we’re cookin’.”
You jerked forward. You needed him, you needed every bit of him and the idea of teasing him drove you wild. You raked your nails along his heated stomach, tracing a line of hair the colour of brown sugar, following it down to a bush of the same shade. With your bottom lip swelling between your teeth, you planted both hands on his torso and dropped your head between your shoulders to tease him with your breath. You exhaled over the reddened tip, watching in delight as it twitched closer to you. Your lips ghosted over it, suctioning around just the tip. You swallowed, and opened your mouth wider, letting your tongue flop onto the underside of his shaft.
“Fuck…FUCK!”
Jimmy came undone, clenching his teeth as he bucked his hips against your mouth. Up and down, your head bobbed, stroking his cock with your mouth. Your cheeks caved as you hungrily swallowed the ropes of cum that hit the back of your throat.
That didn’t last long. With a strong hand, he guided you back, pushing you back onto the bed. You felt the mattress shift to Jimmy’s weight as he climbed behind you.
“C’mere, baby… lay this way.”
He guided you into a horizontal positioning, curling his body behind yours. His chest pressed against your back, warm and slick with sweat. His soft lips scattered kisses along the nape of your neck, down your shoulder.
Jimmy gripped your leg at the thigh, holding it straight. His cock was rock hard, and a thick, clear glob of pre-cum welled from the slit on his head as he lined up to your swollen, aching pussy. Your jaws ache at the sight of it, wanting to smear it over your lips like a gloss.
“You wanna’….” He inhaled a shaky breath. “You wanna’ feel the motion of the ocean, baby?”
You squeaked out a ‘yeah’. After nuzzling his nose behind your ear, The Lobster Boy jerked his hips so hard that the stretch of your cunt had you wincing and grinding your teeth together. But god, that feels so good… He sunk in, bottoming out almost right away — but the rhythm that boy had…. He was fast. He was fast, and he whined every time your cunt had swallowed half, shuddering the rest of it in. Every few thrusts, Jimmy would bunny-hump you with his cock deep inside, revelling in the way your cunt hugged his girth — squeezed it, even.
You, on the other hand, were feeling like your body was going to burst into flames at any moment. Your pussy had hardly had any time to recover, but you screamed out another orgasm, pulsating around The Lobster Boy.
He pulled out quickly, his ink-pool eyes glittering with a new position. With his dick secured in his hand, Jimmy got to his feet, stepping carefully off onto the floor. He let go to snatch you at the waist and wrench you harshly to the edge of the bed.
“Go, Jimmy…”
He pulled you forward slowly, dipping his chin to his chest to watch as your walls clenched around him. Your pussy was blush-red and swollen; a visual he’d treasure for the rest of his life. Once the tip of his head stretched past your entrance, Jimmy yanked your hips back against his. Hard. The sound your cheeks made when they slapped against his stomach drove him wild, and whatever apprehensions he had about hurting you went out the window.
Through unhesitating thrusts, he asked: “Doesit’ feel good, baby?”
You could only nod, seeing the ceiling of your trailer vibrate each time your bodies connected. The trailer has to be moving — he’s shaking the trailer, oh god.
“Say my name again.”
“Ji-Jimmy… oh my god, Jimmy!”
You were two orgasms in, and he was pounding a third out of you. The muscles in your legs were quivering, and losing strength quickly. Your vision was overexposed and twinkly, tears stained your cheeks.
“Jimmy - wait - wait, it’s too—“
You whimpered desperately, your fingers dropping away from your overstimulated clit. Jimmy straightened up, one hand moved to your shoulder, leaving the other still clamped on your hip. Your shrill screams were loud enough to break the barrier of your trailer, but when he tightened his grip on your shoulder to use it as leverage, you didn’t care.
He was fucking you deeper and harder than you’d ever been fucked, and maybe than he’d ever fucked. Blinded by ecstasy, he couldn’t hear a word. Every carnal instinct he had kicked into full-drive, galloping towards the finish line of pumping you full of his seed.
You turned your head, screaming into the mattress as your pussy shuddered one final time, leaking the wettest orgasm you’d ever had onto his cock. She clenched around his tip like a vice, and the sensation drove Jimmy to the edge.
The knot inside Jimmy unravelled all at once. He let out a deafening groan, spilling his pent-up load into you. Gush after gush flowed into you, and you could feel the hot fluid leaking from your cunt, splashing onto your thighs with each determined thrust he gave.
Eventually, his thrusts became spasmodic, shakily slowing to a stop. He collapsed atop you, and reached between your bodies, to tug his softening cock out of you, humming at the sensation.
“Y’know… I really do have the hots for you, baby…. I haven’t slept with a single girl since you waltzed in.”
He exhaled hard. “I gotta’ sleep, doll. I gotta.”
By the time you sat up and slipped your arms into a robe that was draped over a chair, Jimmy was already asleep. The way he curled up on your too-small bed, naked, one hand hanging off the side was easily one of the cutest things you’d seen since drifting to Jupiter. You wouldn’t know until he woke up, but if he was telling the truth…. You’d spend every last day worshipping the ground he walked on.
A delicate rapping pulled your attention from Jimmy, who had already started breathing deep in his sleep. Delicately, you pulled a blanket of yours over his bottom half, not wanting whoever was at the door to see him in all his glory.
You made your way to the door in no particular hurry, still floating Cloud Nine. Eventually, you toed open the door and leaned sleepily against the doorframe. The robe barely covered your chest, but at the sight of the visitor, all worries left.
“Have you seen Jimmy?” Maggie asked, her tone of perpetual annoyance making you smile. “I needed t—
“I have,” you cooed. “I sure have.”
Like the nosy bitch you knew she was, she poked her head in. It didn’t take her long to find him, and hear his soft snoring.
“Oh, drop dead twice,” she muttered, retreating.
You stopped, an amused smirk twisting your lips. So, she had wanted him. Clocked that one. “What, and look like you?”
Her wide eyes narrowed into slits, lips pursed indignantly. With a toss of her dirty blonde hair, she marched off towards the tent, fists clenched at your sides.
You might’ve felt bad for the poor wretch if Jimmy Darling’s cum wasn’t dripping down your thigh. Might’ve.
#tryin' something new with the headers... there aren't enough jimmy gifs and I need something better to match the vibe of my fics lmao#Jimmy Darling#Jimmy Darling smut#jimmy darling x reader#jimmy darling x you#ahs smut#american horror story smut#fanfiction#ahs fanfiction#ahs freak show#American Horror Story Freak Show#Evan Peters#myfics
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Omg requests are open again 🫣
Hobie and you in a Christmas-themed party (maybe hosted by Miles? Gwen?) Under the mistletoe? Perhaps a little inspired by this post https://www.tumblr.com/the-kr8tor/736942547927252992/arachkidsspider-society-seeing-hobie-and-you
Thank you for requesting, lovely! And happy holidays 🫶
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, spider person! Reader, cw food mention, cw drinking, FLUFF
ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ
The party is in full swing, fellow spider people mingle and chat with each other. The drinks are flowing, the lights are bright and twinkling, the music is jolly and merry; there's discarded wrapping paper all over the floor. Even Miguel is participating, although he has had a few drinks courtesy of Jess and Lyla telling him they can't drink so he has to compensate for them. Both women are currently cheering him on to chug an entire bottle of eggnog, while other spider people take out their phones to record.
The trio are currently exchanging gifts with each other, Miles guffaws as Pavitr opens his gift, presumably from Gwen who slaps her knee in laughter. But there's an unmistakable space between them, one whose shiny spikes are currently missing under all the holiday lights.
You smile when you feel his chest behind you, the pins from his vest poke you as a greeting. Looking over your shoulder, you're met with his classic smirk, arm braced over you on the wall, free hand already on your waist to fully turn you around.
“Lookin' for someone?”
“Yeah, Ben Riley, I heard he has a present for me.”
Hobie grins wider at your teasing, “Whatever he's gonna give you I've got you somethin’ better”
“Another one?” You remember exactly thirty minutes ago that he already gave you your present, a necklace made from his guitar pick that's currently dangling on your neck. “C’mon that's too much, babe” looping your fingers on his belt loop, you pull him closer. Your smile is sickenly sweet as the Christmas cookies you've eaten.
He has a glint in his eyes, you're sure it's not from the lights. “Do me a favour and look up for me”
You scrunch your nose questioningly, but you still look up. Laughing, heat immediately rises to your cheeks. “Ever the charmer”
The mistletoe hangs just above you, held by Hobie himself who puffs his chest.
“You know the rules, love.”
You fake a sigh, “If I have to, it's tradition after all.” you're already leaning your face towards his waiting lips.
There's fireworks popping off outside, you hear people's footsteps rush out to the balcony to watch. Yet, you and Hobie still kiss unbothered by everybody. He tastes like the chocolate cake he devoured earlier, it's all tooth rottingly sweet as you hold on to his hips for dear life. His hand is splayed over the small of your back protectively.
The world melts around you.
“Jeez! Get a room, you too!” Gwen yells out. Both Miles and Pavitr boo at you two.
Hobie chuckles into the kiss, waving them off with a quick gesture before continuing to give you his second present.
#request done#hobie brown x reader#spider punk x reader#hobie brown#the kr8tor's creations#atsv fanfiction#spider punk#x reader#atsv fanfic#atsv x reader#atsv fluff#atsv hobie#hobir brown x gn! reader#hobie brown x you#spider punk x you#spider punk x gn! reader#hobie fluff#cw food mention#cw drinking#hobart brown#hobie x reader#fanfic
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