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rinhaler · 13 days

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I Should Just Walk Away !

His knuckles are split, what are you meant to do? Not tend his wounds? Someone’s gotta do it! It doesn’t mean you’re going to fuck him again. No way.

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot (and a sprinkle of angst?) Notes: I'm gonna make a masterlist and stuff bc I love this au but I'm lazy pls bear with me! ♡ Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, blood ♡, wound care, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, tit sucking ♡, slight edging?, dacryphilia, m+f masturbation, car sex ♡, vaginal sex, creampie ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, kid), mutual pining ♡, angst??, calls ur pussy she/her ♡, (lmk if i missed any!!) Words: 8k

—

Even after proclamations of love for each other, the rest of the ride home is silent and uncomfortable. In hindsight, it might not have been the best decision to divulge the truth of your tryst with Sukuna to your little brother.

You could try to reassure him. But what would be the point? You’re only a few years older than him, yet somehow, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a teenager. When you were Megumi’s age, though, you had parents.

They were alive.

Sure, you were somewhat rebellious but you behaved for the most part. You studied, worked hard, steered clear of ‘bad’ boys. And, as Sukuna so elegantly put it, you’re a ‘snooty doctor’. You’re thankful for that, because without that salary you’d never be able to afford subsidising your brother.

You had your parents.

But you’re all Megumi has.

It’s a little unsettling how quiet he’s actually being. You were bickering not too long ago, you’re taken aback that he seems to have no desire to continue. A fleeting thought that he might be trying to punish you enters your mind.

Your head snaps a few times to look at him, though he doesn’t do the same. There’s a little grimace on his face as he looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

It’s disgust.

“Are we okay?” you wonder, and the way it leaves your lips in a warble must be pathetic for your brother to hear. He scoffs immediately after, still outright refusing to say another word. You make sure to keep an eye on the road, though your gaze can’t help but wander towards your sibling when you get a chance. “I’m just going to make sure he’s patched up properly, okay? He’s not staying the night.”

“As if that matters.” he rolls his eyes.

It should matter. You don’t know what he means, and you don’t dare ask him to elaborate. There’s no reason for you to be scared of a seventeen-year-old. You aren’t. You’re more afraid of disappointing him.

“Megumi…” you take a breath. “It’s late. I think we should talk properly tomorrow.”

He takes a breath not too dissimilar to yours, you aren’t sure if it’s inherited or if it’s a habit he’s picked up from you. Is he mocking you? He doesn’t say much more, shrugging his shoulders is an answer all on its own. And still, it makes your heart twist as anxiety pierces through it like a stake.

“Fine.”

“Really?!” you bark out unintentionally. Maybe he’s more mature than you’ve given him credit for, because agreeing to talk properly is the last thing you expected. Your eyebrows knot briefly, and you look at him again when you reach a red light. “Are you fucking with me? You’re not serious, are you? You’re gonna sneak out in the morning and I won’t see you until—”

“I said fine. Didn’t I?” he grunts. “At least be quiet when you fuck him if you insist on lecturing me in the morning.”

“I’m not doing it again, I told you.” you assure him. “It was a stupid mistake and I regret it but I just wanna make sure his hand is okay. And then I’ll tell him to leave. I promise.”

“Should prob’ly tell him that, ‘cause he won’t stick around once he realises.” you both find yourselves looking in the rearview mirror at the man following behind you at a distance before quickly averting your eyes. “Don’t make promises you’re not gonna keep. You sound like my dad.”

“Ouch, babe. Noted.” you laugh a little despite being genuinely offended.

The rest of the journey is completed with your brain on auto-pilot. You aren’t even sure how you made it home without crashing once you realise you’ve parked perfectly in the driveway.

Megumi snatches your purse and ducks out of the car, making a beeline for the front door. You watch him as you allow your head to gently thud against the headrest behind you; he’s frantically looking for the house keys so he can shield himself from any possible sighting of you and his boss together.

He drops your purse on the ground with little care once he finds what he’s looking for, and you’re startled when you hear a knuckle lightly rap against your window.

“Nice place, princess.” he speaks, though it’s slightly muffled by the closed window.

“Stop calling me—”

“Oi. Pick up the purse.” Sukuna warns your little brother before he can hide indoors.

He looks over his shoulder at you both before slowly crouching down to pick it up. He grips it tight before finally disappearing.

Sukuna gives you room to breathe before offering a hand to help you out. Like you’ve never gotten out of your car before. Instead of taking it, you stare. You stare at his obscenely large hand and can’t help but remember his fingers had been inside of you mere moments ago.

You smile, as politely as you can, before hurriedly chasing after your brother.

He saunters after you with a lazy smirk playing on his features. You only see it when you remember you’d forgotten to lock your car. The sound of his Mercedes locking is a deafening reminder.

You enter your home; he hadn’t even bothered to turn a single light on as he charged straight towards the kitchen. You’d expected him to have locked himself in his bedroom by now. But instead, his silhouette is illuminated by the light emanating from the open fridge.

He grunts when you switch on the living room light, looking at you like a raccoon caught going through the trash as he chomps down on the cereal you’d bought on the way home from work.

“Can you get the first aid kit from the cupboard?” you ask him as you take off your coat and throw it down over the back of the couch. “You shouldn’t be eating so late, y’know.”

“I’m starving. I didn’t eat today, ‘m a growing boy, y’know.” he counters. He moves to look through each and every cupboard. He looks at you and shrugs before continuing to eat.

Your eyes are both directed to the sound of a gently closing door. You half smile at Sukuna as he enters before you look at your brother again in contemplation.

“Oh I moved it to the bathroom ‘cause we never use it.” you sigh as you make your way there. “You can finish eating in your room if you want.”

“Tryna get me out the way?” he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I don’t wanna stick around here anyway.” he side eyes Sukuna as he walks with his bowl towards his room.

You don’t see the amused grin he offers your little brother while you retrieve the first aid kit.

If you had, you’re sure you would have sent him home too.

“Sorry,” you groan, setting the kit down on the coffee table. You stand with your hands on your hips as you stare at him. It’s dawning on you, now, regardless of how exhausted you are. You’ve let a man you barely know into your home. A man older and stronger than you’d ever hope to be. You’ve welcomed a criminal into the space that is meant to be the safest for your little brother.

“I’m not gonna kill ya, sweetheart.” he cuts through your thoughts as if he can read your mind. It makes your heart race, though your face remains stoic as you try and disguise your evident worry. “Last thing I wanna do is scare you, though. I’ll go if you’re—”

“No, it’s fine.” you interject. “I’m tired, though. I’m gonna get changed because I wanna go straight to sleep after this, okay? You’re not staying.”

“Shame, I had fun.” he grins, circling the couch before sinking into it. His body is angled towards you while his eye looks you up and down with purpose. “Get comfy, I’ll be right here waiting for you, darlin’.”

Even someone as headstrong as you can’t deny how giddy he makes you. You walk backwards, unable to take your eyes off him before you eventually find your bedroom. Everything he says is so intentional, it’s almost vindictive. Like he knows just what to say to have you weak at the knees for him.

But this isn’t you.

You’ve never been the type to fall for a man’s alleged charm quite so easily. But you also didn’t think you were the type of person to fuck a stranger. He isn’t exactly a stranger, though.

He’s Megumi’s boss.

“Stop calling him that.” you whisper to yourself as you try and break yourself out of your spiralling train of thought.

You dress yourself in the most unflattering pyjamas you can find, wearing them with the full expectation of turning Sukuna off of you. He can’t possibly still be angling to fuck again when he sees you in mismatched pyjamas, complete with aged holes and stains from that one spaghetti night you and Megumi attempted.

There’s a feeble attempt made at wiping your makeup off, although you barely try. Your smile is almost blinding as you look at what a mess you are. The panda eyes from your smeared eyeliner and mascara enhance your sunken eyebags. Your eyeshadow glitters across the bridge of your nose and into your hairline beside your temples. Your pretty lipstick that you’d lined so perfectly is half removed while the other half is smudged down your chin.

You emerge from your bedroom with a confidence you only ever experience when you’re at home in your comfiest clothes. Despite your appearance, and even despite your company, you’re so content.

His eyes squint as he looks at your face, and even still, he’s smiling. He chuckles softly as you get closer to him, sitting beside him as you open the first aid kit.

“You look way prettier like this, princess.” he tells you, folding his arms across his chest as he continues to stare.

“Ah! Really? You think I look prettier?” you ask sarcastically.

“No, you look awful.” he laughs. “Is this all for my benefit? I still want to fuck you, admirable attempt though.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes as he laughs a little more, and you force yourself to frown when you realise his laughter is contagious. Everything he does is so effortless; you can’t remember the last time you genuinely smiled so hard it hurt your cheeks.

His eye fixates on you as you begin to look through your little first aid kit and pick a few things to use on his knuckles.

“I’m sure you could have done this yourself,” you start as you pick up a packet of antiseptic wipes and begin to clear the blood surrounding his knuckles. “Could have gone to a walk-in place if you were really worried.”

“Of course I could. Been doing this for years, did you really believe I don’t have my own first aid kit?” he asks. “I wanted you to do it.” he confesses, though he’s no longer smiling. You don’t stop wiping away the combination of wet and crusted over blood on his hand, though you can’t help but stare back at him.

Is he trying to scare you?

“You’re unbelievable.” you tell him, quietly.

“It’s hard to do it with one hand, sweetheart. And you’re a professional, I’d have to be an idiot to do it myself.”

You look away, only to pour rubbing alcohol onto a clean wipe. He can’t help but be transfixed as he watches you, admiring how your dainty little hands are so delicate with the equipment. How your face appears so irritated as you perform tedious tasks such as this, but you do it regardless, and he thinks it’s sweet.

“You should be on my payroll,” he finally smiles again. “My private doctor.”

“No.” you shut him down.

“I forgot how stuck up you are. I thought you’d at least be fununtil tomorrow.”

“Be grateful I’m doing this at all.” you reply with ease. All enjoyment and giddiness over his company seems to be a distant memory as you recall the type of man he actually is. You’re grouchy and exhausted, and he’s testing your patience. “I don’t like you and I don’t like what you do. And I hate that you’re involving Megumi.”

“Lighten. Up.” he warns you.

You press the wipe quickly into his cuts, and you can’t help but smile as he winces from the abrupt stinging pain. You laugh harder as he tries to downplay it. His expression becomes unreadable as he tries to appear detached. You can see it in his visible eye, though. It’s watering.

He can’t help but break at the sound of your laughter, however, as you continue to snicker whilst rummaging through for a roll of gauze to wrap around his knuckles.

“I usually don’t crack when I do that myself. You wanted it to hurt.” he smirks, shaking his head.

“Guilty.” you continue to giggle as you face him again.

He doesn’t say another word as he watches you wrap a thick enough layer of bandages around his bloody knuckles. The somewhat shallow lacerations seem to cause slight discomfort despite being taken care of. You watch him, purposefully, as he flexes his fingers a few times to test how it feels.

You aren’t sure if he knows you’re staring, but his guard seems down. It could be an act to disarm you, but you aren’t convinced he’s a good enough actor to pull it off. The genuine curiosity and intrigue on his face due to your handiwork makes you feel off. Is he judging your ability to provide proper care?

It’s not like you wanted to.

But you both know that’s a lie.

He grins when he finally notices you staring at him. And that makes you relax. You were right, he was genuinely lost in thought despite being in your presence.

“You should go now,” you say quietly. You angle your body to rest your arm over the back of the couch, your balled fist supporting your head as you begin to yawn. “I’m tired.”

“Sure.” he nods, moving to stand before relaxing into the soft seating. “I need your number.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, ya need to give it to me sweetheart,” he smirks, mirroring your body language. “Need it so I can tell you when I wanna see you again.”

You scoff, shaking your head defiantly at his bold claim. The thought of him clicking his fingers for you to come running like a loyal lap dog is almost enough to make you gag. You’d slap him if it wasn’t so late, you’re too tired and you don’t want to cause a fuss for Megumi or your neighbours.

“You’re never gonna see me again,” you smile, biting your lip as you look him up and down. “And you’re not seeing Megumi, either. He’s done with your little fight club. And I’m done with you, period.”

“Aren’t you meant to be smart? Concerning that a doctor could be so naïve.” he squints slightly as he regards you, looking you up and down as you had him. You’re so sure of yourself, he can’t help but wonder if you’ve forgotten about your current appearance. “I’ll be seein’ you both again. Megumi isn’t quitting. And I like you, and I’m not the type of man to give up things I like.”

“Tough shit,” you laugh lightly. “You’re gonna have to find another poor woman to pester. I’ve got enough going on without dealing with a loser like you.”

“A loser? Really?” he chortles. “You were moaning on my dick and calling me daddy earlier. Now I’m a loser?”

“Shut up.”

He leans in close to you, noses almost touching and his smile widens further as he sees how glittery your face is from your poor makeup removal. “Are you only going to be nice to me when I fuck that brat out of you?”

You turn your head away, your heart racing as your body betrays you. The want and desire bubbles in the pit of your stomach. But you can’t. You know you can’t; because you promised.

He isn’t special.

Sukuna is not special.

“You’re not fucking anything out of me.” you tell him, peering out of the corner of your eye to see him look a little surprised at your declaration. He thought you were playing hard to get. You aren’t playing. “It was a one-time thing.”

“Really?” he asks, barely missing a beat as he responds. “I don’t understand you. I thought—”

“Of course you don’t understand me. You’ve known me for a few hours. Just because we’ve fucked doesn’t mean you know me.” you remind him. And he nods, he agrees with you. He’d be a fool not to, and the man is no fool. “It was just a heat of the moment mistake. I mean it. I don’t want to see you again and I’m not letting Megumi fight anymore.”

“Why?”

“Why?” you scoff. “He’s a child. It’s dangerous. I don’t want him—”

“No, sweetheart. I’m not stupid, I know why you don’t want him to fight anymore. Do I look like a moron to you?” he asks, voice gruff and harsh as he interrupts without a care. His temper is visible and rising as he begins to run out of patience for your attitude with him. “Why don’t you want to see me?”

“Because you’re shady and I don’t want to upset my brother. He’s already upset, I don’t want to make it worse.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“Excuse m—”

“That’s a reason why Megumi doesn’t want you to see me. Yeah I’m a little shady, but you like me. I know you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have let me come over here, see where and how you live, and tend my wounds like a good girl.” he sneers.

“Fine. I don’t like you and I don’t want to have a platonic relationship with a criminal. Let alone a romantic one. What happened earlier was a mistake.”

“… You’re lying.” he says, and it’s curt. You cross your arms over your chest and shake your head with an amused laugh as you digest his denial. How he can sit there and act so full of himself when you’re being perfectly clear is beyond you. It’s jarring.

You jolt as you feel thick fingers lightly grip your jaw. Your wandering gaze is now brought to him. Your eyes forced to fixate on the placid expression plastered across chiselled features.

“I see you, princess. You don’t wanna see me because you want to get mixed up with a criminal, and you’re scared of that. I see you.”

You stare at him, licking your lips not so discreetly as he continues to cradle your jaw. His lips curl at the sight of the little pink muscle slipping between your lips to wet them. You’re angry. Furious at yourself for letting him touch you, hold you, like this. And you hate yourself, right now. Maybe even more than you hate him, too.

Because he’s right.

Your lack of action gives him cause to stare down at your shimmering lips, it’s a warning. A silent announcement for what he’s about to do. He doesn’t let go, but his head tilts. He leans in closer to you, daring to give you what you both know you want.

And again, he’s thwarted.

You turn away, unable to look at him right after this time.

“… You should go, now.” you tell him.

He sighs, but pulls away. You almost mewl as his thumb softly swipes across your chin. And when he withdraws it, you feel your body fill with loneliness. Your skin feels colder.

And it hurts, because he’s on the right track. You’re pushing him away because of Megumi. But deep down, as much as you crave him right now, you know it’s the right thing to do. You jolt a little as he abruptly stands up from the couch, the breeze from his movement makes you freeze.

He sees it.

“Go to bed, you’ll warm up.” he says bluntly before making his way towards the front door. He stops as he grabs the handle, holding up his bloodied knuckles. “Thank you, for the first aid.”

“It’s… it’s fine. No problem. Goodnight, S-Sukuna.” you say, cursing yourself for the audible whine in your words despite your attempted conviction. You watch him as he grabs the handle before turning to face you again.

“Come with me.” he tells you, curling the tip of his index finger. “I need to give you something, don’t argue. For once.” he demands.

You’re compelled to follow, in spite of his demeaning way of summoning you. You truly don’t want him to leave, you don’t want him to go, so any extra time you can spend with him, you’ll take.

He walks ahead of you, leaving you shivering in the doorway as you try and preserve any warmth you can. He opens the door to his car and turns around, a little bewildered that you aren’t right behind him. It makes you giggle to see him look around in search of you before he finally spots you still at the front door.

“Come here.”

You close the door and rush to his side, quickly looking back to make sure Megumi isn’t looking for you. He rests his arm atop the roof of his Mercedes, before holding out a small piece of paper between his fingers to you.

It’s a business card.

“What kind of thug needs a business card?” you ask before you even think about what you’re saying. He scoffs, squinting at you.

“You’ve only fucked me once, you don’t know me.” he smirks. And at that, you can’t help but laugh. “What you said… makes it seem like we’ll learn more about each other if we keep fucking.”

“I don’t want to know you, Sukuna.” you sigh, reluctant to keep up the charade. Reluctant to keep pretending he doesn’t excite you. To keep pretending the few hours you’ve spent with him haven’t been the liveliest your life has been in years. Maybe ever, really. “I can’t be selfish, you don’t get it.”

“You’d be surprised.” he says, abruptly. “Why did you follow me out here if you don’t want to know me?”

“Because you asked me to, you said you wanted to give me something…”

“You could have said no. Do you always do what people tell you? You wanted to. I wanted you to. And now you’re here, you have my number. If you want to be selfish… you know where I am.”

“I don’t—” you sigh, shivering aggressively before you push his card back into his chest. “I don’t need this.”

He grabs your wrist hellbent on sending you away with this one little piece of the puzzle of his life. A way to talk to him again if you change your mind. He’s giving you access, he wants you to take it, desperately.

He crouches down, levelling his head with your own so his one, uncovered eye is levelled with yours. He can’t help but smile, it’s almost maniacal, as he watches your resolve falter under his glare.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, kid.” he grins. “And you’re not all that smart, for a doctor.”

Your face burns with heat. And you can’t tell if it’s rage or lust. Do you want to kiss him or kill him? You don’t know, you don’t know. His smile grows wider as he realises what he’s done to you. Your faces are so close to each other and this time you can’t will yourself to turn away. You can’t submit, not after this.

“I’m smarter than you.” is all you can think to say. It feels pathetic and phoned in. And he reads it, too, by the ever-growing look of amusement on his face.

“I don’t doubt that.” he nods. “What’s got you all hot ‘n bothered, hm? ‘Cause I called you a dumb li’l doctor? Or ‘cause daddy, called you kid?”

You feel your face sear further. So much so you can even detect each and every drop of sweat beading at your hairline. You’d forgotten it was freezing outside, instead trying to find a way to subtly cool yourself.

“You d-didn’t even call me dumb. I’m not.” you say, stuttering over yourself like a true idiot as you try and gain some semblance of composure through this agonising conversation.

He closes the already small distance between you, placing his hand on the small of your back and pulling you towards him. Your eyes flutter closed under his as he examines you. His head tilting and turning, forcing himself in your line of view.

“I am learning more about you. Should we fuck about it, sweetheart?”

“What are you—”

“Do I remind you of your old man, hah? I bet that’s it… was daddy never proud of you?” he chuckles darkly, carding his fingers through your hair as he stares down at you. “S’that why you like me, darlin?”

“Shut up.” you respond, voice meek and pathetic as you wrestle with your will and want. His fingers lace through your hair, delicately holding the crown of your head before you find yourself being pulled closer still. His lips ghost yours, and he’s a tease. He’s such a fucking tease.

“Got a thing for older guys who talk to you like shit… I see it. Get too much respect at your little doctor job all day. Do you like being talked down to, hm? No wonder you like a thug like me.”

“You don’t know what you’re— You d-don’t even know.”

“Yeah? I don’t?” he asks, his tone melodious and teasing. His head tilts back, the feel of his lips intensely teasing yours soon broken as he does. But you look up to him, eyes full of anguish and sorrow like a kicked puppy who doesn’t know what it wants. You hate him and the reason is clear.

You don’t hate him at all.

You just hate that he’s right.

“I think I’m right. I think you’ve got daddy issues, and you like it when I call you kid.” you turn away as he speaks. But almost as quickly as you do, he’s forcing you to look at him again. His ruby eye flaring, an expression all of its own. A warning, a look of command. A look of lust. “Am I right, baby? Is your little cunt soaked ‘cause I call you kid?”

“… I have to go.” you say, quietly.

“Sure.” he smirks.

A sense of déjà vu overwhelms you as you recognise in his smile that you’ve done this dance before. You can’t move and you can’t speak. There is no desire in you to leave him now and return to your home, your bed, like you should.

All you can do is stare. Your eyes fixated on the man who has just read you like a book. His amused expression doesn’t falter. He’s patient, surprisingly. You wouldn’t have painted him as a man with patience. But looking at him now, you know he’d be willing to wait all night if he had to. He’d wait for the sun to rise just to prove a point.

But he doesn’t need to.

You lunge forward, your hand cupping his face as you break the boiling tension between you and seal your acceptance with a scalding kiss.

He won.

He told you before, he doesn’t lose.

Your lips suctioning and pecking at his would make you embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate. He welcomes it, too, meeting yours with just as much urgency. He wraps his arms around your back as you slip your tongue between his lips, allowing them to tangle and swirl in a passionate encounter.

He chuckles into it as you curse. Curse him, curse his name. You can’t believe he’s reduced you to this, again. Your heart heaves in your chest, and you break away just to instruct him.

“Open the fucking back door.”

He laughs again, keeping hold of you as he guides you in a way he can carry on kissing you and still do as he’s told. He ducks in first, pulling you in with him right after. You grind your hips against his heavy bulge as he closes the door after you. He looks up to admire you, to adore you.

“You smeared your makeup like a fucking idiot so I wouldn’t fuck you,” he laughs. “And look at you, humping my cock like a desperate little pet.”

“Shiiiit, I forgot I’m a mess.” you sigh, though you don’t really care. You wrap your arms around his neck, keening as his heavy palms grip your thighs press you flush against his body. “This is the last time. I m-mean it.”

“Whatever you say, princess.” he says, smugly.

You dismiss it, too enamoured by the feeling of his bulge alone as you continue to grind down hard and purposefully onto him. He’s relaxed, allowing you to take the lead and go at your own pace.

It’s embarrassing, really, you’re not as experienced as he seems to be. He’s older. And you hate to admit it, wiser. When it comes to encounters such as this, anyway. You’re smart and well read, sure, but casual hook ups are foreign to you.

You’ll keep that to yourself for as long as you can, you can’t think of anything worse than giving Sukuna that little tidbit of information about you. That he is only the third guy you’ve fucked.

He hit the nail on the head back at the club, but you can’t let him know that.

“Let me feel.” he mutters. His hand holds your hip to keep you in place. Another snakes down into your sleep shorts, his mouth falls open with an amused chuckle as he touches you. “Still full’a me, baby. Bet I’ll slide right in.”

His fingers play with your pussy without any real goal. And still, it makes you delirious. He smears the evidence of your previous tryst around your folds, and he watches with conviction as his fingers circle your clit.

He withdraws them, briefly, to move your shorts into the crease of your thigh. You watch him, and he doesn’t take his eye off you, either. Your lower lip droops as you admire him. Truthfully, you’ve never been in the presence of someone so domineering as him. He is the true definition of a red-blooded male.

Sukuna is huge. In the literal sense, he is unnaturally tall. His build is enormous, his hand is larger than your face. But his aura alone is enough to fill an entire room with an ambience that he sees fit. He could instil fear into the minds of men just because he wills it.

Unfortunately for you, you are not immune to his will.

“You’re so pent up darlin’, you must work hard. Y’need to relax… no wonder you can’t keep your hands off me.” he says. It could be read as demeaning. You think it should be. And yet, you don’t detect any malice from him. He makes a show of spitting on his fingers, keeping eye contact with you as the ‘ptuh’ sound leaves his lips. It makes you shudder.

Though when he touches you with such purpose, so lewdly, a whine you never knew you could make leaves your lungs. He looks up at you like you hung every star in the sky as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. The ‘shlick’ suctioning sounds of your already tainted walls couldn’t possibly be any louder.

He sees how embarrassed you are, but he doesn’t care. Your nose crinkles and your eyes close softly. He curls his fingers and his palm flattens against your clit. And you cry out for him, lurching forward as you wrap your arms around his head rather than his neck. He’s surprised to see your hips rock against his touches, riding his fingers like it’s the only contact you’ve ever known.

His free hand reaches up to tug down your vest. His tongue is flat and wide as he sticks it out to lick your bare tits. He isn’t rough, he isn’t aggressive, he isn’t rushing. He sensually swirls his tongue over your nipples, breathing heavily on occasion before he kisses them. You whimper when he sporadically skims his teeth across them. There’s no bite. No effort. He just wants to hear you cry for him like that. It’s like his teeth are barely there, just enough that you know they are.

“Do you touch yourself?” he mumbles against your skin. You can’t bear to look at him after hearing that. You pretend you didn’t, moaning louder as a diversion. It’s fruitless, and apparently you aren’t a good actress. He yanks your hair and forces you to look at him. His fingers stop, and your body writhes from the loss. “Don’t do that again. Answer me.”

“S-Sukuna…” you fuss. The feeling of your building pleasure being torn away from you is making you stupid. It’s pathetic. And yet, in spite of how humiliating it is, you’re still rolling your hips in a bid to get the feeling back. His expression falters to one you can’t read. You think it’s annoyance, but it’s so detached and expressionless. You yelp as he withdraws his fingers completely, with no time to feel the loss when he grabs your face with his slick-coated hand.

“I want to know if you make your pretty pussy cum after a hard day at work.” he says calmly, a low rumble in his chest as the words roll plainly from his tongue. Your eye contact falters as you notice him pulling at his sweatpants in search of his aching length. “And I want you to show me how you touch her. So go on, answer my question.”

“I… I—” you stumble. You watch him intensely as he frees his throbbing cock. He wraps his fist around himself and lazily strokes. He still glares at your features. While you’re utterly captivated by his cock.

It looks so angry. Too pretty and perfect to be real, you think. But somehow, it is. You think he’d be better suited as a porn star than a criminal with an asset like that. He spends an extra second squeezing his length just below the tip when he strokes himself, it’s like he’s ringing all of the pre out that he can. It dribbles out of his slit, coating his tip the more he summons. It’s beguiling.

You suppose you hadn’t really had a chance to admire him back at the club. It was so heated and hasty. Now, it’s purposeful. You look at his face again when you realise this is what he wants. He wanted you to look at how he touches himself and how gorgeous his cock is. He wants you to see how big he is and how much he aches and throbs when he needs to be buried in a sweet little cunt.

He wants the memory of this to stain your mind.

“I d-don’t.” you confess. “Not much… I’m always tired. Busy.”

“Mhmm… I can tell.” he nods, his voice is somewhat sympathetic. “Come here, princess. Sit on it.”

His hand grips into your hip while he lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him, you don’t hesitate. You let him push you down, you eagerly suck him in. Your eyes roll back as you feel him swell through your walls. Even after taking him earlier, you’d forgotten how monstrous he feels inside. And this time, somehow, he feels bigger.

“Fu-uck,” you gasp as his tip immediately nudges at your sweet spot. You hold his shoulders and hope he’ll assist you. The thought of disappointing him makes you anxious. The idea of him knowing how inexperienced you really are makes you sick.

He throws his head back as your hole swallows him greedily. He looks at you through a heavy-lidded stare, and relief fills you as his hands grab the fat of your ass. You moan pathetically as he spreads them. But his ultimate goal is to bounce you on his cock. You feel weightless in his hands as he helps you. Each steep drop down onto his length makes your throat tight.

He's there.

You feel him there.

“Play with yourself, go on. Rub her f’me.” he says lethargically.

And your face feels like fire. The foreplay was gasoline and his command is a match. And yet, out of fear of him withholding pleasure from you again, you comply. Your hand slithers between your thighs and you do all you can to pretend you’re elsewhere.

You try and pretend you’re in your room, in your bed. What usually gets you going is a mildly heated scene from a movie or TV show. The sexual tension of an almost kiss makes your face flush, though a lot less than it is now. And you think it’s unbearable to witness sexual tension and not see any resolve, so you scamper to find a video online to suit your needs. Something quick and short as you reach into your nightstand to find your favourite toy.

The thought of being caught by your brother makes you sick so you have to be fast with it. The website you ordered it from assured the toy would be whisper quiet. And you can only hope it’s true. You don’t touch yourself, not without aid. And even then, it’s sparse. You haven’t rubbed your clit with your own fingers in years.

Years of being riled up and having a useless boyfriend who didn’t know what he was doing lead you to finishing yourself off each and every time. And you knew, the moment you got a job and your own income, you’d buy yourself a vibrator.

It’s hard to pretend Sukuna isn’t here, though. It’s hard to pretend you’re in your room with Netflix playing quietly enough in the background it can still cover the sound of soft core moaning from your phone while you vibrate yourself to completion.

Because his cock fills your each and every thought. Every sense you possess is dominated by him. The feel of him stretching you out beyond your limit and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. The sound of the sticky tacking of his length as he slams you up and down on his pulsing member.

Your vision alternates between his gorgeous gaze and the point where your bodies connect again and again. Your pussy gushes slick and the evidence of your prior combined coupling stains your inner thighs and his crotch.

The scent of your sex fills the car and the heat of your sweaty bodies exacerbates it. Your skin is damp, as is his. And it’s overwhelming. He groans into a chuckle as you moan louder and louder for him. If anyone happens to be awake at this ungodly hour, they’ll no doubt hear you. If anyone looks out of the window, they’ll see how the car rocks back and forth. It turns you on further. The tang of sweat and arousal filling the car. It makes you lightheaded.

“I can— fuck— c-can taste you, daddy…” you whine. He urges you to fall forward so he can kiss you. It forces you to take over, moving your hips on your own as you try and maintain your building pleasure. “You’re too big… can feel you in my throat, Sukuna… tastes so good.”

“Dirty fuckin’ girl.” he smirks, kissing you again. “You’re fuckin’ filthy. Not the good girl you pretend to be, hah?”

You nod, agreeing. He’s right, after all. You’re talking in a way you didn’t know you had in you. He takes over again, holding your rear so he can take full control of your body. He guides you repeatedly until your eyes cross from the pleasure. Your walls tighten, and your throat feels hoarse as you cry out for him.

“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, kid. Don’t be shy. Cum for daddy.” he encourages you.

You cry, at that. Falling forwards to envelop him in your arms as you come undone. He coos, sweetly, kissing your cheeks and licking away your tears. The feeling isn’t lost on you, the feeling of disgust. You’ve never felt happiness or value like you did just now. Realising how right he was about your issues and using them to subdue you.

Your pussy gushes and he moans further, chest roaring as he finally lets his sight drop to see what a pretty mess you’ve made of yourself.

Made of him.

Made for him.

He pushes his thumb into your clit and rubs quickly, further extending your pleasure through it all. You could just about cum again when you feel him shoot another load into you, his warmth filling your womb for the second time today. It makes you feel special. It makes you feel loved.

The very idea of it has you pushing yourself away from him desperately. But he holds you close. His moans are boisterous and uncaring. It’s loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood, you think. And at the very least, you’re sure Megumi will hear if he doesn’t have his headphones on.

His arms wrap tightly around your waist to keep you in place, his feet planted firmly on the floor of the car as he fucks himself into you. He’s sure to empty every last drop into your cunt, his balls slap against your ass as he ploughs into you furiously.

And when he stops, you freeze. You feel cold. You feel filthy.

He doesn’t discard you or try to kick you out. The opposite, really. He’s still holding you close, lightly peppering your chilled skin with kisses. Eventually stopping to rest his head on your chest. He feels you try to move away, but he only holds you tighter.

So you stop trying to leave. And instead, you run your fingers through his hair. He hums contently, at that. And you feel your heart pound harder, a little smile works its way onto your face.

Maybe he’s not so bad.

That thought alone makes you stop. He looks up at you, his stare soft and gentle as he wonders what made you halt your actions so abruptly. Before he can ask what’s wrong, you move to leave.

“I have to go, I really have to go now.” you say bluntly. He huffs, watching as you scramble to put your clothes back in place, clambering off him in a hurry. He doesn’t say anything in response. He watches as you scramble to open the door. Tears of panic begin to fall as you struggle to open it, you frantically pull and push as you try to get away. He leans over, and with little effort, he opens the door for you.

“Goodbye.” he says, simply.

“G-Goodbye.” you respond, ducking out and briskly walking to your front door.

You take a deep breath when you get there, preparing for the possibility that Megumi is about to greet you and bite your head off. Sukuna doesn’t move. He stays in the back seat and watches you with a sombre expression. With no inclination of what happened to change your mood, he can only assume he stepped out of line.

He doesn’t want to leave just yet. At least not until he knows you’re safely inside.

As you grab the handle of the door and push, your heart sinks.

“No, no, no… d-don’t do this to me now.” you sob, hysterically fiddling and pushing the door. You stupidly think that you just need to try harder and it will open. But no such thing comes to pass. You’ve locked yourself out.

Sukuna sits upright when he realises, watching as you slowly turn to look at him. His hand folds, gesturing for you to come closer. And with no other option, you do. Your phone is inside as well as your car keys. You can’t text Megumi to tell him what you’ve done. And even if you could, he’d only come outside to see that you’ve let him down. Again.

“Silly girl.” he says, looking at you with a weak smile when you finally approach. You duck down to look at him, not willing to get inside with him. “Do you want to come to my place? I’ll bring you back in the morning.” he suggests.

“I’m not fucking—”

“You can stay in a different room.” he answers your obvious assumption with a reasonable response. And still…

“N-No. I don’t want to go to your house.”

“Then I guess we’re sleeping in the car. Come on.” he sighs. He waits until you get in, begrudgingly, and then gets out himself. You watch him as he circles to the trunk of his car, looking ahead at your home as you wait for him to return. And he does, with a large, fur blanket.

“Why do you have this?” you wonder.

“I don’t remember. You better not be complaining, sweetheart. You’re lucky I didn’t fuck off right after I came like I usually do. Especially after that little performance.”

“Performance?!” you yell. You position yourself as far away from him as you can in the confined space, sitting as closely to the door as you can. “You just don’t get it! At all.”

“You’ve made that clear, princess. Don’t worry. I’ll steer clear when you get back inside tomorrow. I’m too old to be playing stupid games with little girls who don’t know what they want.”

You huff, covering your legs with the blanket before folding your arms.

“I told you it was a mistake.” you correct him. “I told you I didn’t want to see you or do that again.”

“Shut up.” he shakes his head. “Just go to sleep and we’ll never have to see each other again. Because that’s what you want, yes?”

You pause before speaking. Images of his delicate expression in your arms haunt you. You’d overreacted because of your own cowardice. Because of a promise you evidently had no intention of keeping. It wasn’t a performance. It was just… fear.

“Yes.” you tell him. Your response is bold and scathing.

He doesn’t react, he merely shrugs, adjusting the blanket over his own legs, too. His arms cross over his chest, and his head rests against the window. You can’t see beyond his eye covering, but you assume his visible eye is closed.

You do the same, hoping you fall asleep sooner rather than later.

You’re wrong, though.

His eye is open wide, looking upwards to the light polluted sky. There are a few stars visible, three. He stares at them, thinking about the events of the evening. He hadn’t expected to end up fucking once tonight let alone twice. But when you walked into his club and tried to give him a piece of your mind, he knew.

He knew he’d have to have you.

And he hadn’t expected to be so lucky so have you again, like this. But he can’t put his finger on why things went so sour. It could be one thing or a number of things. He has ideas. He thinks your less complicated than you seem to think you are. You’re keeping him at arm’s length, and that, he understands.

He’s a stranger, but he doesn’t have to be.

He doesn’t want to be.

But what can he do?

He’ll just stare at the stars until he drifts off to sleep.

Maybe things will be different in the morning.

—

chapter one | m.list (working on it) | chapter three

#🦋 — luxe writes #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu #jjk x fem!reader #tw blood #tw daddy kink #tw size difference #tw age gap #tw degradation #tw dacryphilia

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ronwestbreeze · 6 months

Text

you're gonna go far | 6

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. . . word count: 8.5k

read on AO3

It was a little difficult to get out of bed that morning.

One of those days.

Long and exhausting. It was challenging to get stuff done. You knew things like this wouldn’t just go away instantly. But you hoped that maybe…

It wasn’t too bad like before. You were able to think about the chores that had to be done later in the day and pushed yourself out of the bedroom.

So you went through most of the day barely existing. Norm was the first to notice your slight change in behavior because he began trying to joke more with you—no matter how bad they ended up being—and tried getting you out of your head. And you were thankful for that. At least that’s what was different this time around. You weren’t entirely alone nor held up in your room.

That was progress, right? You honestly couldn’t tell. Sometimes you felt like you were still stuck, that you weren’t moving forward. Or getting better. At least back to what you used to be.

Yet, you’ve been this way—asleep—for so long that you have forgotten what you used to be like. You forgot when the last time you smiled. You forgot when you felt the most happy or any other emotion besides anger and grief.

You wondered where that part of you went. Some days you went searching. Other days you somberly accepted that it was a part of you, that you were never going to get back.

At some point, you figured it died along with your mother.

“You want me to check on the baby today?” Norm asked you as you were getting ready for your link for the day.

You shook your head as you sat on the link bed, “No, I’ll be fine. Just one of those days, you know? We all have em’.”

He frowned when you shrugged it off or appeared a little too nonchalant about it, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Thanks for offering though.”

“Anytime, Doc.” He gave you a pat on the shoulder, while watching you particularly closely, “Just tell me you need a break. Don’t push yourself, okay?”

He was nice. You needed something like that.

Neytiri noticed it too.

While the two of you were in the garden that day, Neytiri had been saying words in Na’vi for you to repeat. And you did it, not perfectly of course, but you managed. It was just that you didn’t take in any information. Not in the way she knew you to.

You had a certain look that told Neytiri you were hanging onto her every word, whenever you were learning something new from her. Eyes slightly vibrant with curiosity.

That look wasn’t there today. Instead, in its place was a dullness and lifeless sort of unfocused gaze.

Your ears were low again.

Neytiri didn’t know when she became so attentive to your moods or facial expressions. So much so that she could tell when you were somewhat happy and really, painfully sad—

You were just easy to read in this form.

Yes, that was it.

“What is wrong, tanhi?” Neytiri eventually asked because she didn’t completely despise you so much to ignore your change in mood.

There was a twitch in your ears when you heard your name being called. You looked up from the newly planted mushroom seeds you had been mentally counting at Neytiri to find her staring at you expectantly. “Huh?”

She rolled her eyes, “You are not listening. I know you are distracted. What is wrong with you?”

You cringed at yourself for allowing yourself to get so distracted by your swimming thoughts. Drowning in them as usual. “It’s nothing. Just have a lot on my mind.”

But the answer did not satisfy her. Neytiri shook her head, “Sky People are always hiding their feelings. You are doing that. It is okay to be sad. It is natural.”

“I’m not hiding it—” You sighed, turning your gaze back to the mushroom seeds. “It’s just one of those days. Maybe—Maybe today I am sad. I could barely get out of bed and tomorrow it might be worse—what are you doing?”

You watched as Neytiri got up and moved behind you. A second later, you feel a brief tugging at your hair until it became loose from your short braid. “If you want to learn our ways, then you must take care of your hair. I look at it and it is a mess.”

“It was in a braid before…”

“I did not like it.”

With that, she got up again and trekked back into the forest. You watched her go in bewilderment at the sudden change of conversation and attitude from the Na’vi woman. You had no idea what had come over the woman or what made her suddenly leave, but you didn’t focus on it for too long. The confusion and startlement you had was enough energy to continue planting the rest of the mushrooms. You didn’t bother putting your hair back into a braid, not wanting to spend time threading through the thick strands until your fingers were too sore to complete your job. And the last thing you needed was something stopping you from finishing this one simple task—

A splash of cold water was suddenly dumped onto your head, leaving you soaking wet.

And terribly pissed.

You snapped your head behind you to find Neytiri placing the leaf down next to her—which was glistening with water. The same water that was now spilled all over you.

“Neytiri—ouch!”

“Hold still.” Neytiri hissed at you as she ran her long fingers through your hair.

You grumbled but reluctantly listened, still confused and a bit pissed at what was going on. And for a while, the two of you remained there. You, sitting on the ground still counting the seeds quietly to yourself while Neytiri stayed behind you. Braiding a few strands of hair.

It was then you realized just how different your hair was from the way it was in your human body. The hair length was very similar to how you used to wear it when you were a teenager. You wondered then just how old this avatar body was.

Once she was finally finished, she crouched down in front of you to get a better look. Her yellow irises scanning your face and her work. Tucking rebellious strands behind your ear, patting down some of the fuzziness, and making sure the braid was visible around your face.

You watched her quietly. And soon, when she was done obsessing over your hair, she watched you too.

It wasn’t the way you and Jake watched each other. This—this had something different about it.

Time was an illusion here. Trapped in her yellow gaze. You hadn’t realized you had been staring for so long—nor did you realize you had briefly glanced at her lips—until a sudden sound from the forest pulled the both of you out of this strange trance.

And once you snapped to your senses, your body quickly reacted. You shot to your feet and cleared your throat, “I gotta check on the avatar now.” You didn’t meet her gaze. “I’ll see you.”

Before she could stop you, you already scurried off. Stopping once you were far enough away out of her sight.

Stopping when you felt a new pair of eyes watching you rather closely.

You glanced around the forest surroundings as you approached the longhouse with a frown until your eyes locked on another pair of yellow eyes. Severe ones.

Tsu’tey was in the trees further away but enough for you to see him watching you, even when you caught him doing so. He did not look away from you. Narrowed eyes and that scowl resting on his angular face.

For a moment you wondered what the look was for. You wondered what he could yell at you about this time, even though you listened to his demands and had stayed away from the Omatikaya territory.

A scared part of you wondered if he had seen you and Neytiri just now.

Nothing happened. But still, it would give enough ammunition for him to verbally attack you. Hate you even more possibly.

Except there would be no battle today. As Tsu’tey disappeared within the trees without a word.

You were confused but relieved at the same time.

Dealing with an angry clan leader was not on your to-do list. Nor were you properly prepared for it.

After watching the trees in silence, you eventually went inside.

Neytiri watched your retreating figure with a frown, her heart…shifting—only a little bit as you disappeared. Her gaze then moved toward the trees, the area where the sound had come from before. And with an irritated frown, she got up and stalked toward the area.

They were still there. She could feel their eyes on her as she went further into the forest. With a hiss, she glared at the trees, “Come out. Enough hiding!”

Just a little bit above her, a few feet away a familiar warrior snaked out of the bushes and seated himself on the large branch with his usual expression he wore whenever he was away from their shared hut.

Neytiri frowned up at Tsu’tey, “You are watching me.”

“I am watching her.”

After a beat and a quiet sigh, Neytiri climbed up the tree and joined him. Despite his very sour mood, he tugged her close to his side as they sat together. On the branch, they had a good view of the Avatar Compound. A few dreamwalkers were running about but none of them seemed to bother Tsu’tey as much as you did. Neytiri could easily tell with how he kept glaring at the longhouse, the same place she always watched you disappear in whenever you left your false body.

“You have been spending time with her,” Tsu’tey stated more so than asking. There wasn’t much to hide, they both knew Neytiri spent some of her free time visiting you. Only when Tsu’tey or Jake are busy with their duties and she’s finished with hers before the both of them. “I do not like it.”

“She has done nothing.” Neytiri reasoned.

“Yet.”

“And what did I say if she does? I would kill her myself.”

As she said this, Neytiri felt a certain wavering in her heavy words. Like a part of her didn’t believe it anymore.

She rested her head on his shoulder, hugging his arm with a content sigh, “But I cannot ignore what the Great Mother has shown me. She has stopped my bow before and now she’s done it a second time. Do you not think it means something, yawne?”

In the corner of her, she watched as his jaw tightened, his features becoming particularly focused. “I do not trust this.”

“You do not trust the Great Mother?”

“That is not what I mean.” He corrected her calmly. Neytiri knew that Tsu’tey, like any other child of Eywa respected her and trusted in her signs. Always had. That was how he was raised. And she knew he wasn’t about to abandon that because of one demon.

But his words were still reluctant, “I do not know where our Great Mother is leading us. I do not know why she wants that demon spared—when she is just like the rest of them.”

Neytiri considered his words, “Perhaps she is like Jake—”

“There is only one Jake. And she is nothing like him.”

She made a sound of disagreement but didn’t push further on the subject. She noticed how tense he was, how tense he had been for the past week. She wondered then if he was truly upset by this or if there was something more to this quiet anger he so carefully restrained. Of course, his hatred for the Sky People was no question.

But Neytiri knew Tsu’tey.

Skin and bone. Heart and soul.

She knew her mate. Not only as a mate but as a friend. They had grown up together. Along with her sister, Sylwanin. There was nothing he could hide from her even if he tried.

“She may not be like Jake. But clearly, the Great Mother has chosen her for a reason. My mother even allows her to stay—I believe it is time you seek the answers.”

Tsu’tey scoffed but didn’t brush her off. Instead, he leaned in closer, allowing his hand to rest on her growing stomach. “You will be a great Tsahik.”

“Not as great as my mother. Nor my sister.”

Tsu’tey shook his head and cupped her cheek, “You will be great, my beautiful heart.”

A soft smile tugged at her lips only to falter when she noticed how exhausted he truly looked. How close he looked to breaking but hiding it. He could never hide it well from her. Nor Jake.

She then took his face in her hands and whispered soothingly, “What is it, my love?”

Knowing that there was no point in denying a response—knowing that Neytiri would not stop until she got what she wanted—Tsu’tey turned away from her to stare back at the compound.

“The Tipani clan are becoming reckless. They already do not like the Sky People that have stayed—but now that the demon has come, I worry they will begin to take matters into their own hands. I worry…that our clans will begin to clash.”

Neytiri took his hand in hers and pressed a gentle kiss onto his knuckles, “If it comes to it, I will stand by you. Jake will too. But I also will ask you to speak to our Great Mother about your troubles.” She caressed his exhausted lines with a small frown, “I worry for you, Tsu’tey. I do not want you to take on this task by yourself. You have Jake and I to be with you. That is why Eywa brought us together.”

Right then, he seemed to consider her words. His gaze was still unfocused while staring at the longhouse. A silence settled between them.

“Eywa has created this new path for us.” Tsu’tey mused. “Somedays I wonder if it will lead to something good in the end.”

“Do you think it won’t?”

He was silent. And Neytiri didn’t push.

When Tsu’tey went to the Vitraya Ramunong, the night had already settled around him. When he went to kneel at the tree, connecting his queue to one of the links, his prayers were silent. But his questions were clear. His intention was pure to the Great Mother.

What does it all mean? Guide me, All Mother.

So when a single atokirina flew away from the tree, Tsu’tey took to following it both out of curiosity and apprehension. The Great Mother’s answers weren’t always clear. If anything, her signs only led to more questions.

So, Tsu’tey wondered. He wondered if this would lead to any more answers.

Or just more unwanted questions.

Tsu’tey rushed through the forest, never losing sight of the spirit. He kept going and going until he was nearing the Sky People’s base. Until the trees suddenly became familiar. Until the grounds he had seen many times before unwillingly began to appear around him.

But his body never stopped moving. He never stopped following it. Too desperate for answers. Too desperate, too yearning.

Oh Eywa, he was yearning.

And then, and then, and then.

And then he was staring down at your still false body.

It was strange. Seeing no life in your face. Tsu’tey had only seen your false body from far away, but now seeing you up close. You looked so different yet the same as your human form.

Why was he here? Why did the spirit bring him to…

No.

His vision rippled. Your body morphed from your human form to your false body—impossible.

And then he woke up.

Awake.

Tsu’tey finally realized where he was. Instead of standing in the middle of the forest chasing an atokirina, instead of standing over your false body, he was back in his hut. With his mates sleeping next to him. With his son cuddled between both Jake and him. With Neytiri hugging his waist from behind.

A dream. It was only a dream.

But why you? Why you?

Why?

“Yawne?” Tsu’tey breathed out a sigh and looked over his shoulder to find Jake shifting out of his sleep, looking at him through heavy eyelids. He sat up a bit, careful not to disturb Neteyam’s sleep as he did, “Another nightmare?”

Tsu’tey hesitated—considered the question. The dream he just had. Was it a nightmare?

“No. I am fine. Go back to sleep, my love.”

Jake didn’t look entirely convinced but eventually lied back down. Usually, it took a while for Jake to fall asleep, so Tsu’tey lay back down, adjusting Neytiri’s arm around his waist and squeezing his other hand on Jake’s shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jake asked, his voice deep and sluggish.

Tsu’tey nodded, and tucked his nose into Neteyam’s cheek as gently as he could, “I am now.”

It took you a little longer to get out of bed the following week. But you managed. You watched a few more of your mother’s logs and even some of the other ones still in the system.

Dr. Augustine. Norm. Some guy named Quaritch. And then there was Jake Sully.

As a human.

You paused the video to examine his face. You suppose the traits matched his now blue form. The only difference was that instead of his longish dreads, he had a buzz cut in the video. And a tattoo poking out of his short sleeve shirt.

Eventually, you moved on, willing yourself to forget his face for the time being.

You also tried not to think about the fact that Neytiri hadn’t been back for about a week now. Which was normal. You didn’t overthink it. Especially not after that moment—

Eventually, you moved on, willing yourself to forget your thoughts about her.

Then you remembered Tsu’tey. Him watching you so closely. You hoped he didn’t see you and Neytiri. Frankly, you weren’t sure what would happen if he did know.

He’d kill you. That’s for sure.

Eventually, you moved on, willing yourself to forget all three of them.

When you finally got out of bed, you continued with your regular schedule and tried to think of literally anything else. You tended to your garden by yourself and continued checking the baby.

There was a bit of determination for yourself, to keep moving. To not stay in one place any longer or else you’d be stuck.

And you weren’t sure if you’d make it out if you did.

Jake continued visiting the tank room whenever he could.

Today was one of them. Only this time you made it before he did.

“How’s the baby?”

You glanced up briefly from your notes, “Healthy. It might be because Na’vi babies might grow faster in pregnancy—judging by that we might have a couple more months before it’s born.”

Jake nodded, his face serious, “Anything else?”

For a brief second you didn’t respond, too caught up in your thoughts until you realized he had asked you a question. Jake tilted his head, brows furrowed at you.

You shook your head eventually, “No, everything’s all normal.”

He stared at the belly for a moment longer before he left. You were somewhat surprised at his quick retreat but didn’t think much about it. He was some type of great warrior, he was probably busy with something else in his clan. If it meant that the two of you didn’t have to interact much with him anymore or probably a lot shorter than before, then you were okay with it.

It seemed he finally took the hint.

All you could do was keep moving.

Jake came again the next day.

This time around you brought out the ultrasound.

He watched you and the machine intensely. You noticed and gave a sound close to a huff or a snort, “Nothing’s wrong with it. I’m just doing a thorough check-up today.”

A quick look of relief crossed his otherwise exhausted features, “Right, right, of course.”

Once you got the ultrasound running and connected to the avatar, you immediately found the heartbeat with the blurry image of the fetus appearing on the screen. It had grown considerably since the first time you saw it.

“There she is.” You mumbled mostly to yourself. The heartbeat was calming in a way, easing your usual tense muscles.

Jake perked up instantly, staring at you in disbelief, “She? It’s a girl?”

You glanced up at him briefly to find a soft expression on his face upon looking at the fetus. Neteyam—who you just noticed attached to his chest—sleepily snuggled closer to his father’s chest. When his head moved out of the sling, Jake held the back of his head, giving it support.

“Yes.” You gave a short nod.

Another look of relief flashed across his face, this time he didn’t try to hide it like before. A small smile tugged at his lips, “That’s—That’s nice. Amazing.”

In the corner of your eye, you watched him. That easy fatherly expression fell upon his face. How soft his smile was, for something that wasn’t even his. You weren’t sure what to think of it—no, you expected it. It was foreign. A father loving his child. To you at least.

You didn’t know your father. Nor did you have a father figure in your life. That type of love was unfamiliar to you.

Love itself was a foreign concept that you could not yet grasp. The only time you could truly say you experienced something close—similar to love—was with your mother.

And if love was like this—heavy. Leaving you…like this.

You weren’t sure you would want to experience any type of love ever again.

“You sure you’re ready to take on another?” You raised your brows, not looking up from the belly.

Jake looked at you, “Do you care for my answer?”

“I am watching over her. I suppose I should make sure she is left with somewhat tolerable parents—that is, if there aren’t any problems with her when she’s born.” You hummed, rolling your eyes at the sudden look of worry on his face. “Relax, that’s the standard check-up of any baby—well, I don’t know how different it will be compared to human ones.”

A beat went by before he finally answered, “I wouldn’t be honest if I said I wasn’t nervous. What new parent isn’t?”

“Mmm.”

The rest of the session was just the two of you, sitting in a somewhat comfortable silence. Comfortable for you because you were able to ignore him without any problems. And Jake wasn’t being too talkative or apologetic, which was a plus. But he was noticeably less hostile toward you as the time went by. Showing that he was taking the truce quite seriously and keeping his end of the bargain.

In other words, the truce was possibly the best option for you both. You could work in peace without being hammered or interrogated. And Jake would continue his visits without any problems.

You still didn’t like him. And you were sure the feelings were mutual.

But things were becoming easier.

And sometimes you like easy. Just as much as a challenge.

There was a part of him that was curious. Jake didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand Neytiri’s easy trust in you but it only made him more curious as he kept coming to see the baby.

Of course, you were guarded and curt around him. And he was quite the same but that didn’t mean he wasn’t at least a little bit interested in why you were so important to their deity.

So many questions.

A part of him wanted to ask Eywa himself—he wasn’t much used to praying to her but he would now and then out of respect for the People. If he asked, he would possibly gain an answer—which was incredibly rare—or he would gain more questions, which was the more common response.

So, Jake took to finding things out for himself. Even if it meant doing it the hard way. Even if it meant getting his head out of his ass and finally putting things into perspective.

Jake Sully was willing to at least keep this tolerable relationship with you going. Keeping this stable cord steady. You weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. It was time he had to get used to it. It was time for him to get over himself.

And he was willing to show that he did want something different. That he was ready to change, to finally understand you in a way.

But you still didn’t like him. Which was fine.

He didn’t like himself all that much either.

Another week went by and Neytiri still hadn’t come back. Surprisingly, you found yourself missing her. And when you began missing others, you got angry.

Since you didn’t feel like going through that process again, you resolved yourself to thinking that she must’ve gotten busy with her clan. Or grown tired of watching over you and your depressing personality once she realized that you weren’t a threat to her clan.

That must’ve been it. That’s what you chose to believe at that moment.

One day at a time.

You moved forward. Because you had to.

Throughout the week you focused on your work tending to the garden, checking on the baby, and even taking on more responsibilities around Hell’s Gate.

Sometimes you’d help Dr. Patel in the bio labs, other times you went with the other avatars to train your body. There were also days you would help Norm pack different human items he’d usually bring for the Na’vi children of the Omatikaya Clan. You, of course, never ventured too close to their territory whenever you went with him to drop off the items. You’d either stay in the ship you flew in or stay at the base as he left on his own.

Jake still kept coming around but his time there became shorter and shorter with each visit. Again, you didn’t bat an eye. You welcomed it and continued with your work.

Toward the end of your busy and long week, you woke up with a start when a blaring sound struck your room. It had to have been the middle of the night as you looked around frantically, only to realize the sound was coming from your tablet.

Quickly, you grabbed it to find the alarm was the system alerting you something was wrong.

And the problem was coming from the tank room.

You stumbled out of your bedroom and dashed through the long halls until you finally ended up in the tank room. Not caring that you were probably making a bunch of noise in the process.

When you got to Augustine’s tank, your heart sank when you found Grace’s avatar was violently twitching with the lights inside of the tank blaring a red.

“Fuck!” You hissed as you immediately checked for the problem.

The first thing you checked was the avatar itself. Her heart and the baby’s were fine but the avatar’s was slightly elevated, probably in response to whatever was happening to the machine which was the next thing you began to check.

There you discovered that something in it was malfunctioning. Throwing the liquid temperature off, the placentiums weren’t giving any more nutrients like they were supposed to. Whatever was going on, you didn’t have time to fix it or the machine.

If you wasted time like that more damage could be done and you weren’t going to risk that. Especially when the baby was in there. Especially when the baby could receive the worst of your mistake. Of this malfunction.

So, you worked fast.

You searched the room for an empty tank—which you were able to find and rolled it over next to the one Dr. Augustine’s avatar was in. You pulled the empty tank open just as Norm and a few other scientists entered.

“What happened?!” Norm questioned hastily.

Quickly, you jumped down from the empty tank and rushed toward Grace’s, “It’s malfunctioning. I don’t know why but we have to move her.”

Thankfully, Norm didn’t ask any more questions. He ordered the other scientists to help you.

You worked quickly. Draining the rest of the liquid from the tank, carefully moving the avatar—this required multiple hands—until you placed it in the new tank.

“Track her heart rate.” You ordered one of them.

A second later, a woman responded, “Stable but its body temperature’s dropping fast.”

By the time she said that you closed the tank. “Norm, fill it up.”

You jumped down, grabbed the heart monitor from the female scientist, and watched the lines closely. The tank was nearly filled up as Norm came up beside you.

Along with the heart monitor, your heart pounded through your ears as the tank finally filled up. You gave the monitor to Norm and went to adjust the temperature back to the usual settings.

When the blue lights came on it felt as if the room breathed a huge sigh of relief. You took the monitor back as Norm hummed, “Lucky you were the one to get here first. And quick thinking too—do you know what went wrong with the other one?”

The rest of the scientists poured out of the room as you slowly shook your head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t waste time, Spellman. Not when it could’ve risked the baby.”

Norm nodded and patted your shoulder, “You’re right. Good work, Doc.” He moved to the other side of the tank with a thoughtful expression. “You want me to stay and help with anything else?”

The lines on the monitor were stable, which brought you some sense of comfort. And yet the slight panic remained. “No, no. I’m good here. You can go back to bed. I’ll finish up here soon.”

“Okay.” Norm eventually moved toward the exit. “Get some sleep, Reeds. I’m serious.”

You nodded without looking at him. “Yeah, sure. Goodnight.”

“Good morning.” Norm corrected with a tired grin.

With that, Norm left. You breathed in a steady breath before grabbing a chair from the corner of the lab and sinking onto it. The monitor was kept nearby, the heart rate melodic in your ears as you set your tablet down on your lap.

For a while, you studied how far along the avatar was. It had been a good couple of months since you first discovered the child—which left her at about twenty-four to twenty-seven weeks at least. That’s not even counting when she first got pregnant. But compared to a human, the Na’vi pregnancy went by a lot faster, which also confirmed your theory.

Or maybe your perception of time was fucked up with how distracted and busy you had been.

Was that why the malfunction happened? Were you too distracted to notice any faults in the system during your usual sessions? What did happen?

You contemplated this for a while. Until your mind became hazy and your eyes droopy. At some point, you fell asleep next to the tank because there was no way you would leave the fetus’ side at that point. Not after all of that.

It felt as if your eyes had been closed for only a couple of seconds before you were suddenly jolted awake to find Norm standing over you.

“What happened? Is it the tank again?” You instantly asked, turning to check on the tank.

“No, no, no—the—she’s fine!” Norm quickly assured while easing you back into your chair. “I thought I told you to get some sleep.”

You stared at him for a beat, both a tired and an annoyed expression easily falling upon your face. “Well, I assure you I certainly wasn’t sitting with my eyes closed just then.”

Norm winced, “Sorry. I thought you’d want to get in your own bed before Jake gets here.” He rubbed the back of his neck as you got up from the chair. “I had to tell him what happened—he’s flying over now.”

“That’s fine.” You grumbled. “I can stand just one day in the same room with him. Besides, I should probably figure out what went wrong with that tank.”

Norm nodded, “Okay—uh, should I be a mediator for the both of you or..?”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s not like I’m meeting their clan leader.”

“You really need to try and get along with him.” Norm chuckled with a shake of his head.

You scowled, “Are you going to keep yapping in my ear about it or be useful?”

“Alright, alright, don’t an ass.” He strolled toward the doorway. “Jake’ll be here in fifteen.”

Once he left, you got to work again. You weren’t an official engineer but you knew a good amount of information from your training back on Earth. You hoisted yourself up and into the tank before you began taking it apart. You stood in it, trying to find out what exactly had gone wrong—while glancing at the heart monitor now and then.

Your brain was moving quickly yet hazily from the sleep. Eyes honed in on the mess of wires in front of you. So distracted by your silent questions and theories that you didn’t hear the incoming footsteps. Only the voice that followed after.

“What happened? Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine.” You replied immediately, watching in the corner of your eye as he approached the new tank. His hair was tied back and across his chest was a leather strap that carried what looked like a machete. “It was just a malfunction with the tank. We were able to get her out before any real damage could be done.”

Jake frowned, “Malfunction? How the hell did you let that happen?!”

“Look, I don’t know.” You replied calmly, ignoring the twitch in your jaw. “I’m still trying to figure all that out. But she’s out of it and fine. Norm helped if that makes you feel better—”

“I thought you had things handled? What happened to that?” Jake scowled, his tone vicious.

“I do.”

“Then what the hell happened—”

“I already said I don’t know!” You seethed, glaring down at the group of wires now hanging from your hands. Somewhere in the back of your brain, you realized that Norm really did have to stand between the two of you. That this truce wasn’t stable enough. That the two of them were just too explosive. “The hell do you think I’m trying to do? Kill the baby?!”

You missed the way Jake’s face faltered slightly, catching himself. “No…No, that’s not what I—”

“Then get off my fucking dick!” You snapped, throwing a piece of the tank to the floor with a clatter.

All sound was gone from the room then.

This was the last thing you wanted to deal with. Being scolded like some child—like you already weren’t beating yourself up over this mess.

You sunk onto the floor of the tank and continued working. Because that’s what you were best at. Not conversations. Not people. Not love.

Work. It was everything to you.

Already you were mentally drowning Jake out, ignoring the fact that there was another person in the room with you. But eventually, you realized that there was nothing wrong with the wires. It must’ve been something else. Another theory down the drain.

Jake uttered your name at one point. And you ignored him.

There was a sigh followed by a short pause before he spoke, “I’m sorry.” You continued ignoring him. There was something about his apologies. You were just tired of them. “That wasn’t fair, you’re right. I shouldn’t have come at you like that—”

“Augustine’s avatar is over there.” You mumbled. “You can check on her yourself.”

There was another silence but you were too focused on what was in front of you to notice or care. You were so determined to ignore him and the sting in the corners of your eyes.

You didn’t like to cry. Especially in front of others.

Thankfully, you ignored him long enough until you realized you were finally alone.

After a while, you breathed out a tired sigh.

Fortunately, as the days went by there were no other problems with the new tank or baby, but it didn’t stop you from always double-checking everything after that close call. So much so that you didn’t realize how much sleep you were missing until Norm pulled you away from your work and forced you back into your room. Locked the door and everything just to make his point.

With the promise of Norm taking care of your work, you eventually allowed yourself to sleep for practically the entire day. Not without the tablet on the dresser next to your bed of course.

Even after catching up on some semblance of sleep, Norm still didn’t let you get back to your schedule right away. Which irritated you of course.

“I don’t want you in my garden, Spellman.”

He rolled his eyes, “And I don’t want you stressing yourself out. As your friend and colleague who happens to care about your well-being, I demand you stay away from the garden until you’re completely rested.”

You frowned at him, “We’re friends?”

“Shut up and accept my love.”

And he kept true to his word. Norm kept you away from the gardens, even the tank room. And made sure that the scientists knew how to keep you away as well. He covered all of his bases.

Damn him.

You couldn’t sit around and do nothing though. So, at some point you were so desperate you resorted to practically begging Norm to just give you something to do that would distract you throughout the whole day. You nagged and nagged and nagged until Norm finally gave in.

“There’s an old link shack north of Hell’s Gate. We’ve been thinking about restoring all of them around the area. But that particular shack’s connection is a little wonky. Maybe you could head over and restock the supplies with your avatar. Maybe even fix the connection while you’re at it.”

You nodded quickly, “Yeah, sure thing. I’ll get on that—”

“And don’t try to sneak your way to the gardens!” Norm added sternly, sending you a look over his shoulder while clicking away at his computer. “Plus, you won’t need the Samson ships. The shack’s not too far from here.”

With that, you went to grab supplies, such as med kits, weapons—one gun and a few stacks of ammo—blankets, Na’vi weapons, a hunting knife, and a bow with a few arrows. You kept the hunting knife to yourself just in case.

After getting all of this, you placed the bag of supplies in the compound longhouse where your avatar always slept when you weren’t linked. Once you got to your link bed and linked up with your avatar, you grabbed the hunting knife and the bag of supplies before taking off north from Hell’s Gate.

The sky was grey today with a few darker clouds on the horizon instead of the shimmering blue you were used to. A storm might’ve been coming.

Which meant you had to make this trip quick. There was no telling how bad these storms could get on this planet.

Similar to how you traveled through the forest with Neytiri, you took to the trees so that you’d have less of a chance of running into or disturbing any of Pandora’s finest. Hopefully, you had learned to be quiet enough to not draw any attention your way as well.

As time went by, the sky got darker. You followed the coordinates Norm gave you while slipping through the trees like the true shadow you were. Traveling and climbing through the trees got easier as you went. You had done it enough times with Neytiri that you knew what to do and how to do it. Albeit not perfectly, but enough to get by. Blending into the environment as best as you could.

You enjoyed it, the vibrant life and colors of the forest once again. Every time felt like you were taking in Pandora for the very first time. Every time felt like a huge breath of the freshest air. Here, you were weightless. You weren’t a scientist. You weren’t human. You weren’t an avatar. You were just were.

You existed here. You were real.

Truly this place was everything you dreamed of when you were younger.

Rain began to pour by the time you spotted the shack. It was propped up and well hidden in a large tree, with moss growing out of the sides, the entire thing looking like it hadn’t been used in a long time.

You slid down from a branch as quietly as you could and landed in front of the metal entrance. By the time you got the door open and crouched inside, you were soaking wet from the rain.

The shack itself wasn’t too small, which surprised you. It must’ve been made to allow avatars to be able to roam freely through here without too much trouble.

Once the door was closed, you sunk onto the empty cot in the corner of the shack and began unpacking the supplies. The med kit went into the cabinets above a wooden table attached to the wall. The blankets went on the cot. The gun and ammo went under the cot in a long black case filled with old and rusted weapons you had to throw out into the rain. You kept the hunting knife tucked in your shorts.

The rain kept going. It was relaxing. Stopping for a moment to listen. Smelling it through the cracked window next to the cot you sat on.

It was nice. You could stay here if you wanted. This could’ve been your new home if you didn’t have responsibilities at Hell’s Gate.

Lastly, you worked on the radio that sat on the wooden table—which you assumed was connected to the main base. So, for the next few minutes, you took your time messing with the radio. Listening to either ongoing static or barely audible voices going in and out. At some point, you messed with the wires a few times before Norm’s voice finally came through.

“Tomato. Tomato. Tomato.”

You pressed one of the buttons, “Hey, Norm.”

“Oh, Jesus! Reeds!” Norm startled. “Warn a guy next time!”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, “I just wanted to test if it worked. Clearly, I fixed it.”

A snap of thunder drew you away from the radio. Seemed like it was getting worse out there. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been out there until now.

Norm seemed to realize this too, “You gonna stay there and unlink?”

“Mmm.” You paused. “I’m gonna try bringing the avatar back.”

He sighed, “Alright, good luck.”

“Don’t need it.” You said as you got up. “I’m too awesome.”

“Whatever, Reeds.”

Another clap of thunder filled the air as you stepped out of the shack. Immediately you were soaked by how heavy the rain was.

Thunder continued to boom, making your skin jump every now and then. It was just terribly cold, making you start to run so that you could get out of it faster.

You ran and ran, and ran, and ran, and ran, only to realize just how much noise you were making and that the area was too unfamiliar to you. It wasn’t long until you realized how lost you were. It was just too dark to navigate your way back or recognize any familiar spots guiding your way.

With that in mind, you went toward the nearest tree and began to climb.

But your body was yanked away from the tree bark almost instantly as you were tackled down to the ground by a large weight. Your left shoulder exploded with vicious pain as if a bunch of sharp knives buried itself into your skin and continued to tear through it.

A strangled scream left your lips as the thunder clapped in the sky once more. You could barely see the creature but it was a dark, large beast. Digging further into your shoulder.

You hadn’t even seen it coming. You hadn’t been paying attention.

Now…

Now you might die because of it.

You tried shoving at it, managing to get most of its weight off of you. But the teeth were still in your shoulder. There was still pain. There was still warm liquid dripping down your arm.

When you moved your leg, you remembered the hunting knife in your shorts. Immediately, you dug into your pocket and found the handle instantly.

After that, you didn’t waste any time stabbing at it blindly and desperately. You did this, you kept going until more warm liquid covered your knife-wielding arm. You did this until the animal was limp against your body. Until you were able to push it off and scramble to your feet and run.

The pain was awful but bearable enough for you to run back to the shack at least. Mud was all over your clothes—some of it in your mouth. If anything, you probably looked insane right now.

You ran. Ran. Ran. Ran. Ran. Way too clumsy to be quiet. What’s worse was you had no clue where you were. And there was more shuffling coming from the bushes and trees surrounding you. If anything, you were probably throwing yourself further into the lion’s den.

It wasn’t long until a black creature suddenly came out of the bushes in front of you, causing you to stumble to a stop as it made its way toward you. Sleek and dangerous. Eyes locked on you.

Thunder boomed again. An identical creature came out from your right. Another on your left. Another. And another. And another.

Until you were surrounded. Until you knew there was no way you were going to make it out of this.

You kept your knife in front of you, trying to ignore the pain in your shoulder, the warm liquid running down your arm, the shakiness in your legs. You began to wonder how much blood you were losing with your energy slowly dwindling as time went by—no, it didn’t matter.

Damn it, you weren’t going to die here! Not like this.

“Come on!” You hissed as you pointed the knife at them. “Come on!”

They growled at you, closing in. Finally, one of them pounced toward you. With the knife, you slashed at it. At that, the creature cringed away and missed you entirely but that didn’t mean the others were going to try their luck.

Out of instinct, you stumbled back as two more tried coming for you. Your back hit a tree as you yelled and swung your knife wildly at them.

Only neither the creature nor your blow landed.

The two creatures were thrown to the side as another clap of thunder struck your ears.

Another figure emerged from the trees and rushed toward you.

Instantly, you swung the knife, only for it to be caught in an iron grip.

You screamed.

“Hey, hey, easy!”

It took you only a couple of moments for you to register the words and that they were coming from a familiar avatar. The last person you ever expected to be here.

Jake lowered your arm with a hiss. You blinked as another round of thunder rattled your ears.

The creatures were closing in again. Jake turned his back to you, hissing at them. His larger arm stretched in front of you protectively when one of them got a little too close for his liking. The creature hissed back

You watched warily behind him, still clutching the dirtied knife. Both of you exhausted and animalistic. Yellow eyes glimmering. One with warning and the other with desperation.

Jake looked terrifying in this light. Just as murderous and dangerous as the animals that surrounded you.

You remained behind him, trembling but glaring. Gripping that knife like your life depended on it.

There was suddenly more shuffling, more thunder, and the creatures then scattered.

You, dumbfounded by this, spoke shakily, “Why did they—”

Jake grabbed your wrist holding the knife.

“We need to move.” He said, dragging you forward.

The two of you ran in the opposite direction of the creatures. He hauled you up a tree before climbing up himself. “Is there a link shack nearby?”

For a moment, you wondered how he knew about the link shacks. You leaned on a branch both to catch your breath and because the quick movements left you a bit dizzy. When you couldn’t come up with plausible answers to your silent question you instead said, “I just came back from one. North from here—I don’t know how far it is.”

Your body leaned a little too far. Jake was quick to grab you in his stronger, more stable arms as he pulled you away from falling off the edge, “Hey, hey, Reeds, I need you here with me, okay? Just stay awake long enough until we get to the shack and we’ll clean you up.”

“I’ve...I’m losing a lot of…” Blood. Blood was what you wanted to say. But the adrenalin was wearing out. Your shoulder throbbed horribly. Exhaustion weighed you down and placed inconvenient black spots in your vision.

“I know.” He draped your good arm over his shoulder and kept you upright. “I know, we’ll get there. I promise.”

There was no arguing with him. You were soaked to the bone and in a hell of a lot of pain. Going back to the shack was your best bet in this horrid weather.

Jake continued to support your weight as the two of you followed the same coordinates leading back to the shack—or rather you haze inaudible directions of what you could remember from the information Norm had given you while Jake haphazardly followed.

Thankfully, the rest of the way wasn’t a long journey. Or maybe you just kept blacking in and out along the way, you didn’t know.

Jake and you stumbled through the door of the shack. He closed the door while you made your way to the radio with whatever strength you had left.

“Norm.” You tapped the radio while wincing. The pain in your shoulder was getting worse. Before now you had been tolerating it. “Norm, can you hear me?”

The static went on.

“Storm must be messing with the signal,” Jake said from behind you as he rummaged through the shack. “We should stay here until the storm settles—”

You rested your head against the small table, the rest of his words becoming nothing but muffled noise to your ears. God, you’ve lost so much blood. And you were so tired.

For a moment, just for a few seconds, you wanted to sleep. Only for a moment.

“Reeds.”

A larger hand rested on the back of your neck, bringing you slightly out of your unconsciousness.

Jake kept calling your name. “Hey, where’s the med kits at? We need to work on your arm, okay? And I need you to stay awake. Can’t have you unlinking in this condition.”

Sluggishly, you nodded, “They’re in the cabinets.”

More thunder rolled by. Jake left your side briefly to search through the cabinets above you. You leaned back in your seat, staring bleakly up at the ceiling.

“How long do these storms last?” You asked.

The thunder responded with a clap.

sorry for the long wait! hopefully it was all worth the wait. another 8k chapter, yay, that wasn't difficult to write at all lol! but now jake and reeds are alone in a shack. anything could happen....

(i'm not adding anymore people anymore!)

taglist: @doggyteam2028 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @sillyblues @squirtlebob @saturnhas82moons @1mawh0re @aprosiacperson @loserwithnofriends @garfieldsladybird @slutforsmut4ever @lik0

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angelltheninth · 1 year

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Hello! I just love your arcane x reader works! Can you do arcane characters x gender neutral! reader who either died or got kidnapped during a mission?

Oh not making Reader dead nope, these characters have suffered enough they don't need a dead lover.

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Reader

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, injury, cuddles, nightmares, crying, rescue mission, reunion kisses

A/N: Well um... Jayce might... you know what no, Mel is gonna be fine!

First, know that you won't stay kidnapped for long. If it for some reason is days then be ready to be face to face with a very tired and very pissed off Jinx when she finally manages to track you down.

Who ever kidnapped you most likely won't survive to tell the tail and even if by some miracle they do they sure as hell won't ever look at the color blue the same way ever again. She might be tired as all fuck, on the verge of collapsing even but she won't rest until you're safe and sound in her arms back in her house.

"You're safe and sound now sugar. That must've been scary for ya. Don't worry, they won't hurt you again. Or anyone else for that matter. Oh, no don't look at them like that, ya shouldn't be sorry for them, they don't deserve your compassion."

By the time Vi finds you she's bruised up maybe even more then your kidnappers. She's fought her way through all of them, yelling and cursing every single one of them. She gathers you in her arms and carries you back home.

As much as she wants to be the one taking care of you she's also pretty beat so you take the role of caretaker instead. Her hands are red and covered in cruises from vicious punching, twitching when you kiss them gently. Shit, you got her feeling all mushy, she could cry, no she is crying, she feels very lucky to have you.

"I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you sweet stuff, you're the one who got kidnapped. I know! How is it that I'm more banged up then you? You should have seen those sorry bastards, one actually cried for his mom. Did... did they make you cry? If they did I'm going back and kicking their asses all over again."

Caitlyn, as much as she wants to, doesn't rush in. She has a plan, one that assures that not one of those who wronged you escapes her sights and a fair trail. In which they will be put behind bars for kidnapping and extortion.

She takes care of most of them by herself, a little more rough around the edges then usual but still not missing a shot. She can't afford to. Can't help but cry when she cups your bruised face in her hands. She was scared, so damn scared that this was it. Right now only your kiss will make her feel relieved again.

"Darling, its me, its just me. Please, I know it hurts but... oh gods... please just let me hold you a little. I don't care that they're looking, I need this right now. Don't worry I've got a warm bath and even warmer hugs ready for you once we get back home."

Ekko arrives to rescue you with an entire team of Firelights at his back. He doesn't even bother hiding his face with the mask, he wants them to remember him, the look in his eyes and how it could have been the last thing they ever saw.

There's no way he can tear himself away from you once he's got you safe and sound in his arms. He doesn't leave your side while your injures are being treated or while you sleep. In fact he doesn't even sleep until you wake up and smile at him again the next morning, that's the point where he feels like he's done a good job.

"Firefly how do you feel? You took a bit of a hit to the head but the doctor said you should be okay now. Sorry, I got careless and let my guard down. I saw them coming but I... I wasn't fast enough. Its not okay! I could have gotten you killed. I would lay my life down for the cause, and that does double for laying down my life for you."

There isn't anything or anyone that can move around Zaun without Vander's knowledge. He thought he left his violent days behind him a long time ago, and for the most part he has but there's still that protective spark in him that can activate his violent side easily.

His fists may be covered in blood but his smile and eyes are as soft as ever when he looks at you. Soft kisses are pampered all over your forehead, the tiniest broken hiccup tearing from his mouth as he nuzzles you close to him and carries you back to the Last Drop to look you over.

"I should've taken care of that gang long ago. Then you wouldn't be in this situation darlin'. How do I feel? Not a scratch on me as you can see. You on the other hand... don't worry you still look pretty to me, bruises or not. I can kiss them better if you just stopped your squirming around."

Zaun is Silco's domain. If anyone is stupid enough to try and kidnap you in his own territory they won't stay hidden for long. And once he finds them, well, he's got plenty of uses for scum like that. Painful use.

As for you, you get nothing but his undivided attention until the last bruise on your body fades away. Sure he does need to be in his office and all that but you can be with him, you can get kisses whenever you want even get to cuddle with him on the couch.

"Are you comfortable over there darling? If you want I can get something better brought here. Shimmer? Well it would be faster but I'm not getting you hooked on this, you're much to precious to me to be some experiment. Your kidnappers on the other hand will serve their purpose."

They will have to eat through a straw for the rest of their lives if they even survive Sevika getting her hands on them. They should be so lucky to only get away with broken bones and nothing else with the way she was making her way through them.

Sevika is very careful when she's handling you, she'd never been so gentle with anyone. It's new, endearing even. You're pretty sure you hear her cursing beside you when she's got her arms wrapped around yours as you fall asleep, followed by a very long kiss on your head and a heavy, relived sigh.

"Sleep sweet thing, no one's gonna hurt you hear me? They can try but I'll kill them all, lucky if that's all I do. The only reason those idiots are still breathing is cause I didn't wanna get their blood all over your pretty face. If I see them again there's gonna be a lot to clean up."

Viktor doesn't think he can let you out of his sight ever again after you're back at his side. He only wishes he could have done more then waited for you to be retuned to him. At least you're safe that's all that should matter.

He should be the one looking after you but he's the one who ends up with nightmares that night. He's already lost sleep, he should be resting but when he thinks about you not being here anymore, it crushes him from the inside. All he wants, all he needs right now is to cuddle up next to you and listen to your heartbeat.

"Sorry I woke you up darling. I'm alright, don't worry. I'm not crying, just had a bit of a bad dream. Go back to sleep please, you need it. I'll be fine, as long as I've got you here by my side there's nothing I cannot handle."

Jayce holds you close to his chest while he carries you to the doctor. He's constantly kissing the back of your hand, his hammer leaning against the bedframe just in case any of the kidnappers got away and wanted to try their luck again.

There aren't many things that can make him scared like the thought of losing you. He tries to be logical most of the time, he feels like that's what he should be, but you make him act on his emotions, you make him want to scream and cry and tell you over and over how much he loves you and how he'll never let anything bad happen to you again.

"Hey, you're awake! Whoa babe, easy, don't try getting up right now, you need to rest, you've been through a lot today. Just say the word and I'll get you whatever you need. You always take care of me so let me be a good boyfriend and spoil you for a change and help you get better okay?"

Mel was almost ready to throw diplomacy out the damn window and turn both Piltover and Zaun on their heads to find you. But that would be going against everything the two of you are trying achieve. That said she doesn't show mercy to your kidnappers either, making sure they get put away for a long time, never seeing the light of day again.

After every meeting with the Council she rushes home to you, her mind stuck on you all day, unable to concentrate properly. This will be an issue for her until you recover but you being safe and getting healed up are... more important to her then impressing the Council.

"I made it home early for you darling, and I brought some more medicine. Would you like it now or after you eat? I see, very well then, just my company for now is it. I must say you've become a bit more spoiled recently. I don't mind one bit, as long as you're alright I'm happy to provide you anything you want."

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candycandy00 · 6 months

Text

The Doll House - A Geto Suguru x Reader Fanfic Part 1

You sell yourself to a brothel to feed your family and Geto Suguru is in charge of training you to be the perfect submissive sex doll.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Geto’s. I’m not sure how many parts it will have. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Dubcon. Submission. Extreme humiliation. Voyeurism. Light degradation. Masturbation. Oral sex. Deep throating. Lots of stuff! Divider by @benkeibear!

Your nerves are on fire. Your heart feels like it might burst at any moment. You never dreamed you would end up in a situation like this, but here you are: standing in the welcome room of the Doll House, being appraised by a woman with long silver hair pulled into a braid. She circles you, holding a folded paper fan in one hand, her eyes sharp.

“I think we can make something pleasing of you,” she says, red lips curling into a smile.

You exhale. Not sure whether you’re relieved or not. You came here to essentially sell yourself to the Doll House. Your parents died six months ago, leaving you and your four siblings saddled with debt and struggling to survive. As the only adult left in the family, you’ve been working various jobs to try to keep your younger siblings fed, but debt collectors are harassing them. You have to do something.

The woman with silver hair returns with a thick envelope. When you open it, your eyes bulge. You’ve never seen so much money in your life! You count it as quickly as possible, growing more shocked by the second.

“Do we have a deal?” the woman asks.

You look up at her. “I’m worth this much?”

“Oh darling, I’ll get twice as much for you after you’ve been properly trained!”

“Can you make sure this money pays off my parents’ debts? And the rest goes to my siblings?”

The woman nods. “Of course.”

“Alright. It’s a deal,” you say. She steps out of the room and returns with a contract for you to sign. You take the time to read over it carefully.

It’s a ten year contract, during which time you’ll essentially belong to the Doll House and then whoever they sell your contract to. No one is allowed to do permanent physical harm to you or prevent you from having contact with your loved ones. You have the right to terminate the contract at any time, though you’ll face dire financial consequences if you do so.

Ten years. It’s a long time, but it’s worth it to pull your family out of poverty. You sign the contract, the silver haired woman takes it, and hands the envelope to another employee. “See that all her family’s debts are settled, and use the rest to set up a monthly stipend for her siblings.”

The employee nods and leaves. The woman leads you deeper into the Doll House, then stops in a large circular room with plush red carpets and velvet-lined furniture. There are fancy polished lamps hanging on the wall, and a heavy perfumed smell in the air.

“Wait here,” she says. “I’ll see which trainer is available.”

You stand there nervously, alone, after she disappears down a dark hallway. There’s no turning back now. If you break the contract, it would put your siblings in even worse debt.

But now your mind is focused solely on your trainer. Who is he? Will he be kind or cruel? What sort of fetish will they shove you into? These thoughts plague you as you fidget with the end of the thin belt around your dress. You’re worried the trainer might be some disgusting brute who never showers. Or just as bad, someone incredibly handsome who will end up seeing you in terribly embarrassing situations.

You hope he’ll just be an average man.

“Hello, miss,” a honeyed voice says behind you.

You turn around quickly to see a stunningly beautiful man with long black hair. He’s dressed casually in dark, loose-fitting clothes and his eyes are narrowed by a smile that curves his lips in a way that makes your heart beat a little faster.

Is he a customer? You glance around, looking for the silver haired woman who went to fetch your trainer. She’s the one he needs to talk to.

“Um, sorry, I just got here. I can’t help you, but the owner should be back any minute,” you say, returning his smile. You can’t help thinking that if customers look like him, this might not be so bad after all.

“You’re new?” he asks.

You nod, feeling a little embarrassed for this gorgeous guy to know you’re here to sell yourself. “I’m just trying to take care of my family,” you say.

His smile fades as he fold his arms over his chest. “Aren’t you afraid? I’ve heard they do some pretty extreme stuff here.”

You glance around to make sure the owner isn’t nearby. “Between you and me, I’m terrified! The scariest part is the trainer. I mean, some strange man is going to have complete control over me? What if he’s just a big pervert?”

The customer laughs, his dark eyes twinkling. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I think anyone who works here is going to be a pervert!”

You laugh too. “I guess you’re right. Well, I just hope he’s not too rough on me. I’m a very sensitive person.”

He tilts his head forward, one long strand of bangs falling over his eye. “Are you now?”

You feel a sudden chill. You almost forgot this guy is here to buy a doll. Who knows what depraved things he’s into? You let out a small nervous giggle. “Uh, just keep that to yourself if you don’t mind. My trainer might use it against me.”

He smiles warmly, holding a long finger to his mouth. “My lips are sealed.”

Just then you hear high heeled footsteps coming down the hall. It’s the owner! You turn to face her, dreading to see what sort of man she’s bringing with her, what sort of man will be doing whatever he wants with your body for the next few weeks.

But she’s alone. Could she not find an available trainer?

“Oh, Geto, there you are,” she says, looking behind you. “I see you’ve already met your new doll.”

Your blood freezes in your veins. You slowly turn around and look at the ridiculously handsome man you thought was a customer. He flashes you a wide grin. You reflexively back away from him. “You’re my trainer?!”

“That’s me,” he says. “You can call me Master Suguru.”

Oh no. This is the worst possible outcome. You just blabbed all your fears and weaknesses to him. Not to mention the fact that this man, this beautiful man, was going to see you naked, was going to witness your clumsy attempts to be sexy. How humiliating! Your face was burning already.

He steps around you and heads down the hall. “Follow me and we’ll get started,” he says, looking at you over his shoulder.

You’ve only been here a short while and it’s already turned into a nightmare. The training is going to start now? You haven’t even had a chance to unpack you belongings or see your new room. You reach down to get your small suitcase, but your trainer calls out, “Leave your things. You won’t be needing them anytime soon.”

With a sigh of resignation, you walk down the hall after him, a huge knot in your stomach.

He leads you to what appears to be a luxurious bedroom. More of the plush carpets and high end furniture. There’s an ornate bed in the center of the room. Oh God, is he going to fuck you right now? You’re not prepared!

“This is my private room,” he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “We’ll do much of your training here, but sometimes we’ll use other areas of the house. During your training, you’ll be with me twenty-four hours a day. You’ll eat with me, sleep with me, bathe with me…”

Your face must have twisted in horror at that last comment, because he laughs at your reaction. “You’ll get used to it,” he says. “By the way, I’m guessing you’re curious what my specialty is. Right?”

You nod, too nervous to speak.

“Submission. Humiliation. Degradation.”

You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. “S-so… basically… you’re going to be really mean to me?”

He smiles as he stands up and steps closer to you. “It’s more than that. I’ll train you to enjoy it, to find pleasure in giving yourself to your owner, in being insulted and berated and humiliated.” He’s so close now that you can smell his scent, like sandalwood and citrus. He reaches up one hand and touches your face. “But yes, I’m going to be really, really mean to you.”

You shudder at his words, at his closeness, at his soft fingers on your cheek. Then he steps away suddenly and sits back down on the bed, casually. “I don’t use physical force generally. I don’t hit or shove or fully restrain. I dislike using violence in my training. I have other ways of disciplining you.”

He pauses to watch your reaction, then he goes on, his sensual voice seeming to go lower. “You will obey my every command. You will do anything I tell you to do, no matter how unpleasant it is. Failure to do so would be a breach of your contract. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer out, looking down.

“That’s ‘Yes, Master Suguru,’” he says.

“Yes… Master Suguru.”

“Great!” he says, clapping his hands together once, startling you with the sound. “Now let’s do a little test run to see how well you follow orders. Take off your clothes.”

“R-right now?” you ask, your face positively on fire. He says nothing but narrows his eyes, giving you a warning look. There’s something scary about it. “I mean… yes, Master Suguru.”

He smiles then, still sitting on his bed as if the two of you are having a normal conversation.

You untie the belt around your dress and drop it to the floor. Then you step out of your shoes. You pause for a moment, not sure if you should unzip your dress on the side or simply pull it over your head. You decide to unzip, thinking it will slow this process down by even a few precious seconds. Suguru offers no commentary as you slide the dress down your hips and let it pool around your ankles. He just watches.

Left in only bra and panties, you look to his face, as if silently asking if this is enough. He still says nothing, only stares at you expectantly. His silence is nerve wracking, his eyes on you almost unbearable. You unhook your bra and pull it off, resisting the urge to cover yourself with an arm. Then you take a deep breath before pushing your panties down to the floor, stepping out of both them and the dress.

Once fully stripped, you keep your eyes on the floor, your hands stiffly at your sides.

“Look at me,” he says, and you force your eyes up to his face. His gaze is burning holes into your body. At least that’s what it feels like.

“Alright,” he says in a pleasant tone, “now lie down on the floor, with your feet pointing toward me.”

You blink in confusion. Is he going to take you on the floor? When there’s a perfectly nice bed right there? But you don’t hesitate for long. You carefully get down on the carpet, trying to be as modest as possible, and then lie down as he instructed.

“Spread your legs. Draw your knees up toward your shoulders.”

Well, so much for maintaining your modesty. You knew it was a futile effort anyway. You follow his orders, feeling like your whole body is on fire with shame. He’s looking at you. He’s looking at your most private parts.

“Now pleasure yourself,” you hear him say.

You raise your head up from the carpet to look at him, praying that he’s only joking, but he’s not laughing. “I can’t!” you say, unable to conceal the terror in your voice. This is too much. You can’t possibly do something so embarrassing in front of this man!

He stands up from the bed and steps over to you, looming over your naked, spread open form. “Oh? Already refusing orders? We can do this in the main hall if you prefer. The other trainers would probably enjoy the show.”

“No, please!”

He kneels down in front of you, practically between your legs. “Or, you can just get up and walk out. No one is forcing you to do this. You came here of your own free will, didn’t you?”

You close your eyes, tears leaking out. He’s right. You came here on your own. No one brought you here. No one even suggested it. The whole thing was your idea. You knew things like this would happen, and you came anyway. An image of your siblings flashes in your mind, and you know you have to do whatever it takes to keep them happy and healthy.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you say, using one hand to wipe your tears. You wait a moment for him to back away, but to your horror he remains where he is, inches away from you, with a clear and perfect view of your pussy as you reach one shaky hand down to lightly rub yourself.

Your eyes close as you sniffle, trying to keep yourself from crying. You slip one finger into your folds, trying to focus on the feeling and forget that you have an audience. You’re dry, because of course you are. Lying there holding back your tears is not the least bit arousing.

“Look at me,” you hear him say, and you almost sob. You open your eyes to find him hovering over you, his silky hair spilling over his shoulders, his eyes moving from your hand between your thighs to your face, his luscious lips curled into a predatory smile.

Oh God. He’s so gorgeous. It’s entirely unfair.

You feel the first drops of wetness as your fingers glide over your skin, spreading it around, glossing it over your clit.

“There you go,” he says, his voice low. “Finally getting wet. What did it for you? The fact that I’m watching?”

You don’t say anything, just keep stroking your clit with your finger, your breaths coming quicker. You’d rather look anywhere else in the world, but he ordered you to look at him, so you’re forced to look him in the eyes as he watches you touch yourself. You’ve never been more embarrassed in your life, but your fingers are becoming slicker the more you think about it.

“You’re gushing now,” he says, leaning so close. “Does it feel that good, being watched? I can see everything you’re doing, every little movement of your fingers, the way your clit twitches… it’s obscene.”

His words are getting to you. You’re so slippery that you can feel your arousal wetting the carpet beneath you.

“I bet you do this all the time at home,” he says. “Do you?”

“S-sometimes…” you manage to say, struggling to focus on anything besides the pleasure.

“What do you think about when you touch yourself at home?”

“Ahhh…. being touched… by someone else…”

“Touched by who? A boyfriend?” he asks.

“I… don’t have a… ahhhhhh!!” The moan escapes you before you can finish.

“No boyfriend,” he confirms. “What about an ex boyfriend?”

“N-never… had one…”

He seems surprised by that. “Really? Then… are you a virgin?”

You hesitate. You planned on keeping that fact to yourself for as long as possible. You’ve heard horror stories about trainers intentionally being rough on virgins.

“Answer,” he says in a commanding voice.

“Yes,” you finally say, holding back another moan.

He grins, his eyes shining. “What a slutty little virgin, moaning and dripping all over my carpet, getting off on a stranger watching you rub your clit.”

Your back arches involuntarily, your hips nearly bucking off the floor. He’s so, so close to you. Why won’t he just touch you himself? But he just watches, sometimes looking you in the eyes when you moan, making this as embarrassing as possible.

You’re close, your legs trembling, your stokes becoming faster, the humiliating wet sounds getting louder. He notices, saying, “Ask for permission before you cum.”

You don’t waste any time. “M-may I please… ahh… cum… Master Suguru?”

He waits for a moment, watching your face while smiling serenely. Then, when it feels like you’re about to explode, he says, “You may cum.”

It feels like the orgasm slammed into your body. You’ve never felt anything so intense before! You’ve masturbated before, when you could find some private moments, but it always seemed like an underwhelming experience. This… this was incredible.

When you finished convulsing on the floor, you collapsed back into the carpet, your legs splayed apart on either side of Suguru. You panted, closing your eyes and just wanting to sleep. After a few seconds, you realized he’s never moved, so you look back up at him.

He’s just staring! It’s unnerving. You use what little strength you have to start to scoot back so you can at least close your legs, but he suddenly stands up before you can move. He returns to the bed and sits down again.

“Crawl over to me,” he says.

You roll over to your stomach and then get to your knees. Your legs feel weak, almost like they don’t belong to you, but he gave you an order. Feeling low and foolish, you crawl on hands and knees over to him, your thighs sticky with your cum.

Once you’re right in front of him, he reaches out and lightly strokes your hair. “Ready to meet your true master?”

You look at him curiously. “Huh? But I thought you were-“

Your voice cuts off as you see him reach into his pants and pull out an imposingly large cock. It’s both thicker and longer than you imagined, standing tall and proud in his lap, fully erect. He slides one of his hands over it.

“This is your true master. For the next few weeks, your life is going to revolve around my cock, around pleasuring it. When it’s not in one of your holes, you should be begging me to put it in one. When you sleep, you should be dreaming about it. Until your training is complete, my cock is your whole world. Understand?”

You’re sitting on your knees in front of him, your “true master” practically in your face. “Yes, Master Suguru,” you say, then you pause and look up at his face. “Uh, do I have to call it Master Cock or something?”

He blinks down at you, then suddenly bursts into laughter. “No, no, that’s not necessary,” he says, patting your head and then wiping at the corner of his eyes. “But you can go ahead and try sucking me off.”

You look from his face to his dick, then back again. “Okay. I mean, Yes, Master Suguru.”

He smiles then, seemingly pleased that you’re getting better at addressing him properly.

You scoot closer to him and reach out with one hand, loosely gripping the hard fleshy rod with your fingers. It feels strange in your hand, a slight twitch to it that reminds you of a small animal. You move your hand up and down the length, wondering if you’re supposed to do it fast or slow, if your grip is too hard or too loose. Your eyes keep flicking up to his face to check his response, but his expression remains only a mild smile.

After getting a feel for it, you lean your face forward and give the tip of it a tentative lick, then another. You look up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants you to do.

He sighs. “You’ve never pleasured a man before, have you?”

You shake your head.

“I can tell,” he says, and your face burns again. He didn’t have to say it like that. “Since this is your first ever blowjob, I’ll teach you how to do it. I expect you to please me from now on.”

You nod, embarrassed but relieved to be told what he wants.

“Lick the underside of it, from base to tip,” he says, “then take it into your mouth. Use your saliva to make it wet.”

You follow his directions as best you can, running your tongue up the length of it, slowly, then taking the whole thing as far into your mouth as you can. It quickly hits the back of your throat, so you pull back just a little, enough that you can move your tongue around it, glazing it with your spit.

“That’s good,” he says, resting one hand on your head, long fingers threading into your hair. “Don’t neglect the balls,” he adds.

You reach one hand up to lightly squeeze them as your tongue swirls around his shaft, making it slick.

“Use your lips.”

You tighten your lips around him, moving your head up and down, slobber and precum spreading all over your mouth and chin. You want to wipe your mouth, but you realize this is part of it. Making a mess on your face is probably the point.

“Your tongue is slacking off,” he says, and the disappointed tone of his voice somehow hurts. You don’t even know why you want to please him so badly, but you do. So you pull him out of your mouth and run your tongue up and down the length before digging it gently into the tip, getting the whole thing soaked with your saliva and then wrapping your lips around it again. You take him so deep this time that it triggers your gag reflex, and you hear a slight catch to his breath. He likes that!

Feeling a little more bold, you press down further, letting him fill your throat, but when you panic because your breath is cut off, you feel his hand on your head press down even further. Tears spring to your eyes as you try to jerk back, but his grip is firm. “Relax your throat,” he says, “and don’t stop moving your tongue. Yes, that’s it. You’re doing good.”

You try to relax, to trust that he won’t kill you while he’s fucking your throat. You ignore the burning feeling, the soreness settling into your jaw, and keep licking, keep sucking with your lips. You have to please him!

Just when you feel like you might black out, he pulls your head back, his cock popping out of your mouth. You gasp for air as he strokes your head.

“Now be a good girl and ask for my cum,” he says, moving his hand up and down his drenched cock.

You look up at him with teary eyes and red face, still trying to catch your breath. “May I please have your cum… Master Suguru?”

“Stick out your tongue.”

You open your trembling lips and extend your tongue as far as you can. Seconds later, warm ropes of your trainer’s cum shoot out, most of it landing directly on your tongue, some of it landing on your cheeks and chin, some even going further into your mouth.

His hand is still stroking your hair sweetly as he smiles down at you. “Savor it. Don’t spill any.”

You pull your tongue back in, swirling the cum around to coat the inside of your mouth, then open your lips so he can see. “Good, good,” he says, “My slutty little virgin knows how to treat her master’s cum. That’s really good. Now swallow it.”

Gulping it down, you feel a tingling sensation throughout your whole body from his praise. You want more of it.

He grabs a tissue from his nightstand and uses it to wipe off your face, then stands up. “Let’s clean up,” he says cheerfully, walking toward a door in the back corner of the room. You climb to your feet and follow after him, finding yourself in a large bathroom. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the shower. There’s no curtain, no door. It’s simply an open stall. There’s even a chair positioned across from it, for someone to sit in and watch.

Suguru takes the chair, looking comfortable as he gestures toward the shower. “Go ahead. There’s plenty of soap and shampoo. I put a new loofah out for you.”

You stare at the open shower, then back at him. “You’re just… going to watch?”

His dark eyes peer at you. “Unless you want me to help you.”

“No, that’s okay!” you say quickly, stepping into the shower and turning the water on. You yelp when the cold water hits your skin, and you hear him chuckle. Once you get the water just right, you grab the soap and begin bathing, just trying to get this done as fast as possible.

Suguru’s voice echoes in the room. “Interesting. Most women start by washing their hair,” he says, obviously just trying to keep you aware that he’s watching. “But you’re starting with your tits. Hmm.”

You glance at him over your shoulder. “Do you have to narrate this?”

He laughs heartily for a few moments, then stands up all at once and walks over to the shower, stopping just outside the water’s reach. “You’re funny. But starting tomorrow, I won’t allow any back talking,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Understand?”

You shiver despite the heat of the water. “Yes, Master Suguru.”

The smile returns to his face. “Good, now face me while you shower.”

You grimace as he returns to the chair. He’s really not going to let you keep even a shred of dignity, is he? But you hurry through the process and feel a hundred percent better when he hands you a towel to dry off with. It’s not big enough to wrap around your body, but you can cover some of yourself while using it. When finished, you look at him and ask, “What do I wear?”

“Hmm? Oh, you wear nothing.”

“Huh?!”

He looks as if your reaction confuses him. “Why would you need clothes? You’d just be taking them off all the time. So during your training, you won’t be wearing any.”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach. “But… what about when I have to leave this room?”

“You’ll be leaving it in the morning. We’ll have breakfast in the main hall. What about it?”

You stare at him, horror-striken. “I can’t wear anything even then? But the other trainers…”

He laughs. “Oh don’t worry about them. They see naked women all the time, most of them with bodies much better than yours. They’ll hardly notice you.”

You hold the towel up in front of you, suddenly feeling self conscious. “Please don’t make me do that,” you whisper, tears in your eyes again.

“No one is making you do anything,” he says. “Break the contract if you want.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Then do as you’re told. And drop the towel, you’re already dry.”

“Tell me about it,” you mutter under your breath, flinging the towel onto the floor.

He looks at you sharply, eyes narrowed to slits.

“Y-you said I can’t talk back starting tomorrow!” you say defensively.

After a pause, he laughs again. “I did say that, didn’t I? Well, I’ll let your bad behavior slide just for tonight. Now about your dryness problem…”

You tense up, wondering what he’s planning to do to you now, but he doesn’t approach you. Instead he pulls his black shirt over his head, revealing a toned, muscular torso. He reaches up and unties his hair from its half-up style, letting it flow freely around his shoulders. Then he shoves his pants down, stripping completely.

Your mouth falls open as you watch him step into the shower. How can a human being be so beautiful? How was it possible?

You’re not so dry anymore.

He points to the chair and says, “Sit. Don’t look away.”

Look away? You don’t think you could pry your eyes off him with a crowbar. Every move he makes is sensual. Washing his hair, soaping up his chest, even cleaning his ass looks sexy. It just wasn’t fair. How were you supposed to handle this? How were you supposed to humiliate yourself in front of this perfect specimen over and over again?

When he’s finished drying off, he pulls on some cozy looking clothes, very similar to what he had on earlier. Long sleeved black top that fits him loosely and similarly fitting black pants. He looks warm and comfortable, and you can’t help feeling cold and even more exposed, even though the room is decently warm.

He goes over to the closet and pulls out a thin blanket, reaching it to you. “You’ll be sleeping on the floor, beside my bed. Don’t make that face, this is part of your training. You’re submitting to me completely, right?”

You look at the blanket in your arms, then the floor. The carpet is thick and soft, so it could definitely be worse, but compared to Suguru’s fancy bed, the floor looks dismal.

You sigh and walk over to the side of the bed, then lie down and spread the blanket over yourself, thankful to finally be able to cover up.

Suguru stands over you, staring down with a blank expression. “What is it?” you ask nervously, wondering if he has some nefarious plan in mind. In all honesty, you’re surprised he hasn’t fucked you yet. A tiny, buried part of you finds that just a little disappointing.

He looks away from your face, rubbing the back of his hair. “Just for tonight, and only tonight, you can sleep in the bed with me.”

You sit up, holding the blanket to your chest. “Really?”

He hesitates, then nods. Sensing this is a one time opportunity, you get to your feet, leaving the blanket behind, and crawl under the covers of his bed. It’s so soft! And warm! You snuggle in, hugging a pillow to your face. You feel the bed shift as Suguru climbs in, but you’re fast asleep before he even reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp.

#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto smut #suguru x reader #Geto #jjk geto #Geto Suguru smut #Geto Suguru x you

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pyr0-kai · 6 months

Note

Could you maybe write a mike x reader that the reader has a crush on Mike for a long time now secretly but dont dare tell him because she just can't is too shy and Abby helps reader and Mike to find together with her drawings since she noticed how they look at each other every time but no one says anything and maybe with just fluffy please. The reader knows mike a long time and knows what he is going through and Mike did become distance from the reader but the reader is still here for him when he needs it too.. And they kiss too :)

Hiiii, thank you for my first official request!! I hope you like it!

There shouldn’t be anything to spoiler-y just some tooth rotting fluff and bad writing!! (And one spicy reference ish? Nothing too bad)

Also So sorry, my art class was watching the little mermaid today so its been in the back of my mind.

Abby, The Little Matchmaker

You had moved in next door to the Schmidt house a few years ago. Mike was watched out the window the day you moved in, while eating breakfast with Abby one morning. He saw you outside of the window, and he wasn’t trying to stare, but ended up staring at your driveway, watching you bring in and out boxes of stuff from one of those large moving trucks. Abby finished a little doodle before looking up, seeing her big brother staring. When Abby spoke up, he zapped out of his little trance.

As a lot of time had passed you had gotten to know him somewhat well. Sometimes he would talk with you from the other side of your fence, or you two would sit on the curb or one of your porches together and just chat about random stuff. As he became more focused on his work, trying and failing to keep a good few job, he slowly began to, unintentionally, become distant. No longer speaking to you directly. But he still would watch you from the window of his kitchen if he saw you pretty [hair color] flash in the corner of his vision. Often seeing you playing with your younger sibling, or younger family members.

Once he landed the job at Freddy’s, he knew he would need help. And you were the best and only person he could really think to ask. It was awkward but, you agreed. Excited to officially meet his little sister, and hopefully see more of him once again. Thats how you ended up watching over Abby once he started working late nights.

Abby was very shy at first, but as time past, and you spent more time at the Schmidt house, she began to open up a bit, talking more and inviting you to draw with her. She also noticed though, how awkward you were with Mike. How you two both seemed to like each other a lot, but it was strange.

One evening however, it was just you and Abby. One of her favorite movies, The Little Mermaid was playing in the background, and she was drawing. Not looking up from the paper, she spoke.

“Hey, [Y/N]?”

“Yeah Abby? Whats up?”

“Do you like my brother? I mean, Like-Like him?”

Your face flustered at that question.

“N-Not like that no… We are just friends really.” You replied, voice cracking a bit.

She turns her head and looks at you.

“Oh really? At dinner sometimes when I mention you, he always says you’re pretty and appreciates you being friends and taking care of me at night. Also, sometimes when i’m not asleep yet, I hear weird noises, and your name coming from his room.”

She notices your face and how red it gets from hearing her speak. She knew you had a crush on him, no matter how much you tried to deny it. Then she turned her head back, smirked to to herself and grabbed a new piece of paper, before heading back into her room, to plan.

Later, Mike invited you to stay for breakfast. He was cooking up some slightly burnt scrambled eggs while you were tapping your nails on the kitchen table. After what Abby had told you, it became even more difficult to talk to him.

Abby came out of her room a few minutes later, a piece of folded paper in her pj pocket. She sat at the table, across from you, wishing you and Mike a good morning. You 3 ate Mike’s slightly burnt food, as Abby told you about a project she’s excited to start at school. Once the food was done, and the dishes were put in the sink, Abby perked up again.

“I drew this for both pf you! Don’t open it until I’m back in my room please!”

You and Mike both nodded as she dashed off into her room to get ready for school. You stood next to Mike as he unfolded the sheet of paper. The inside revealing a picture of You, Mike, And Abby, all happily hugging. You and Mike looked at each other, admiring each other’s eyes. Before you both heard Kiss the girl, from The Little Mermaid start playing from the Cassette player in Abby’s room.

You two both looked at each other, the paper still in Mike’s hand.

“Did Abby tell you that I like you?” He asked.

“Yeah, did she say that I like you..?”

You replied.

But you’re dying to try

You wanna kiss the girl

Yes, you want her

The song played, while you and mike looked each other. He gulped before leaning in slightly for a kiss, and you met his lips halfway. The kiss was everything you both wanted, soft, loving and passionate.

“I love you…”

He spoke.

“I love you too…”

You replied.

The song ended from Abbys room, and you both heard her shout

“I KNEW IT!”

You and Mike both laughed before he pulled you into a tight hug. To this very day, the specific picture Abby drew is framed and sits on a shelf. She draws all 3 of you together much more, loving how happy it makes you all. This always ends with a group hug, as well as you and mike sharing a loving kiss.

#mike schmidt #five nights at freddy’s #five nights at freddy’s movie #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #abby schmidt

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houseofoddballs · 3 months

Text

OK, wow, a lot of you really wanted to go for the "good" ending, right? Well, I'm sorry, but there was no good ending. Enjoy my little oddballs! Final word count is about 2,400 words!

Tw: aggression, angst, emotional hurt, vulgarity, physical abuse? Tell me If there are more to add!

This wasn't working. You stood inside your bathroom, propped against the sink as you stared into your own eyes. They just looked so sad now, so hollow. You could remember Simon cupping your cheek as he stared into your eyes under starlight and murmured against your lips how much he loved seeing them light up around him.

What you wouldn't give to have that again. Staring up at the stars with Simon, his fingers brushing through your hair. You missed the soft mumbled apologies whenever he would catch a snag, and the way he focused on you more than any silly constellation.

"Why stars?" You had asked him, on probably the third date where he took you stargazing with either a picnic or just some takeout. I mean, this was Simon after all. Deep, brooding, knew all of the vital organs and arteries on the human body, etc. He didn’t exactly seem like the soft stargazing type, especially with as clumsy as he was at romance.

You were met with a gruff grunt and a shrug at the time. But later, once you two had eaten and were just laying back together, hand in hand, he answered your question. "'S because no matter where I'm deployed, I know I'm always lookin' up at the same sky as you."

You were snapped back to reality by a sharp rap at your door and the voice of a Scottsman who you had began to secretly loathe. "Aye, lass, ya' mind bringin' up the wheely bin? Ghost said he would take the trash out if ya do." A soft sigh was leaving your lips before you could even process his words, turning away from the reflection of your despondent hollow eyes.

Snow crunched under your feet as you trekked out of the garrage to fetch the trash bin from its place next to the mailbox. Cold seeped through the thin layers of your clothing, a frigid therapy to clear your mind and remind you that you were alive. It was uncomfortable, but in the most comfortable and enveloping sort of way. Like a hug that lasts a bit too long from someone who you know just wants to help.

Hugs. You missed those.

Your eyes flicked up to the night sky, moving between the stars like a pachinko ball bouncing off of celestial pegs. Maybe this was it. Maybe it was time to put yourself first for a change. The very thought made your stomach twist and churn with guilt, but you were far beyond guilt at this point. It wasn't healthy for you to spend afternoons sitting on your floor with you back pressed against the door so you could just listen to Soap and Simon talk without intruding on their time. It wasn't healthy for you to make yourself dissappear just to please an overgrown child. It wasn't healthy for you to beat yourself up over standing up for yourself and what you needed.

So, this was it. You had to be done. Simon had been given more than enough chances to put you first, and he hadn't taken any of them. Simon had simply stayed off to the side complacently as Johnny pushed you further and further away. So beit then.

Soap won.

You didn't bother packing most of your stuff knowing that it would only make it harder to leave, and if you let yourself think about it too much then you were going to stay trapped, haunting their broken relationship. No.

Your favorite clothes, toiletries, and other things went into your suitcase as you finally decided to free yourself. With every item you packed, it felt like another link was cut from the chain that was wrapped around your neck, trapping you here. And yet, there is terror that comes with freedom. You canceled your phone plan that night and waited until Ghost and Johnny went to bed to make your move.

Guttural grunts and lewd moans were your signal to move, rolling your eyes as you left a single sheet of paper folded neatly on your bed. Neither of them hardly ever came to check on you, so you reckoned that you had at least a week before even Simon noticed your absence. Unless, of course, Johnny noticed your car missing. But, even if he did, it didn't matter. This was it.

"Goodby, Simon. I loved you."

And then you were gone. Tossing your suitcase in the back and driving off into the night. The stars were, and always would be, a painful reminder of Simon. But they say that time heals all wounds. You would just have to test that.

no. No. NO. NO!

Simon's hands trembled as they clutched the small piece of paper from you pillows, eyes tracing over and reading each line until he couldn’t make out the words through the tears welling in his eyes.

Gone. You were gone.

His angel, his sweet, his world, his everything. As much as he tried to fool himself into asking why, he knew the answer.

Simon loved you desperately. After everything that had happened to him, his father, losing his family, being buried alive, being hung by his ribs, all of it; after all of it was when he had met you, and Ghost felt truly alive in a manner he had never felt before.

There were quite a few differences between feeling alive in the heat of battle and feeling alive with someone you love, and yet, both of them made Ghost acutely aware of his pounding heart, both of them made Ghost's stomach twist up in knots, both of them brought blood to Ghost's face.

And Ghost wouldn't have had it any other way. Ghost had spent so long being Ghost, that he was starting to forget who Simon was. But you changed that. A simple holiday with Price, that was all it took for him to meet and fall so ridiculously in love with you that he walked around base with a dopy grin under his Skull balaclava at the thought of you texting him.

As Simon numbly sat on the edge of your bed, clutching so tight to the paper that he was afraid it might shred, your entire relationship flashed before his eyes.

Your first date, your first hug, your first kiss, your first time, When he told you his real name, the first time he took off his mask in front of you, the first time he broke down to you. How could he have been such an idiot?

Simon tired to think back on His and Johnny's relationship in a similar way, but it just wasn't the same. They had been great friends in the task force already, so when they were both captured together, of course that was when things had to change.

Sure, he had fallen for Johnny's kind words and beautiful eyes when they were tied together and bleeding on the cold concrete. Ghost should have known better!! But when the stubborn Scottsman confessed so sweetly so that he wouldn't die with any regrets, well, it was hard not to feel touched.

But they just weren't compatible.

Johnny was loud, immature, selfish, didn't think very far ahead, and he was just so clingy. And, yet the thought of leaving him made Simon's heart ache whenever he thought about it. Johnny didn't treat him like he was in love, but Ghost was sure that Soap loved him in his own way.

But it wasn't worth this. He tried calling you, searching for you, emailing you for the queen's sake! But he found nothing. You had been so isolated that you didn't really have any friends that Simon knew of. He was just lost.

He should have taken the ache of being honest with John over this overwhelmingly hollow torment in his chest. When you left, you took hardly anything, but you took everything from Simon.

The world became colorless, music lost it's rhythm, food lost it's taste, life lost its luster. And Johnny? Well, he became a lot harder to tolerate.

"Did ya hear their makin' a new-" "Not now Johnny." It was like he didn't care. Didn't care that you were gone, didn't care how badly Simon was hurting. "Is this about the lass again? Look, I'm sorry Si, but it's not your fault she didn't care enought-"

"Shut up." Soap looked at Ghost in shock for a moment, a brow quirking up. "What?" "You heard me." Now Johnny's brows were furrowing, his lips setting into that stairght line that meant he was about to win.

Something about Soap? He was impossible to argue with. He would argue in circles to the point where it didn't matter which side he was on as long as he won, which was incredibly frustrating to say the least and made any arguments completely pointless because he would win in the end out of sheer exasperation. It was just easier that way. But not this time.

"Shut. Up." "Look, ya' ken nae go blamin' me for the way she left! She-" Simon was up in an instant, a hand around Soaps throat, effectively shutting him up and pinning him to the wall. Johnny reached up and clawed at his wrist as Simon squeezed just a bit too tight, he could feel Johnny's windpipe being crushed into itself. But he didn't care. Not right now.

"You absolute fuckin' nubty. You just don't get it, do you? Well, seargant, let me spell it out for you, you dense fuck." Simon's eyes were burning, but this wasn't Simon anymore. He could almost feel his balaclava over his face as he glowered down at Soap, eyes filled with disdain and mallace. This was Ghost, someone who hadn't been out to play in years, despite the name sticking around.

Soap winced as Ghost tightened his grip even further, a snarl meeting his lips as he spoke. "She was MINE. And I was hers. We'll use a pie for the sake of your small. Fucking. Brain." Each venomous word was punctuated with a twitch of Ghost's hand, a lingering desire to just squeeze all of the life out of Soap right here and now.

He could see Soaps eyes rolling back as dark spots were inevitably clouding them. That was no good. He had to be awake for what Simon had to say. Ghost loosened his grip just enough to allow Soap the bare minimum of blood and oxygen before delivering a harsh slap across his face with his free hand.

"Ah ah ah sausage, stay with me. So, the pie. She goes and gets a third of the pie because I'm in the military and she doesn't get to see my beautiful mug very often. Then, she hears that I'm coming home for good. She gets all of that delicious pie. Ya' followin' me Johnny?" A strangled nodd. Good. Ghost didn't care about the strangled noises leaving soap or the way that tears pricked his eyes.

"Good boy Johnny. So, she thinks she's getting all of this pie that I am. And then, I come back toting your arse along like some fucking new pet. Well, now she thinks she only gets half of the pie. But she still agrees because she was a fucking angel." Ghost's voice was cold again, filled with the same gruffness that the military had imparted into him.

Ghost hadn't been out in ages. It felt good. Ghost could feel Soaps pulse under his fingers, feel his lifeblood. It was intoxicating. He loved that look of pure terror, missed people looking at him like the monster he was.

"Except, instead of half of the pie, she's still only getting a third, because SOMEONE is a greedy fucking pig. Wonder who that is, Johnny?" Ghost cocked his head to the side as he dug his nails into the flesh of Johnny's neck, reveling in the way that he winced.

"And then what happens? This little piggy goes and takes even more of the fuckin pie. You just keep taking and taking and TAKING until all that was left was fucking crumbs. Do you get it now? You fucking muppet."

Soap nodded furiously as he gripped Ghost's wrist, trying desperately to pull him off. But it wasn't Ghost's fault Johnny hadn't been working out as much. Five years ago he would have at least been able to put up a fight. This was just pathetic to Ghost.

"And so, she lapped at your fucking crumbs like the good girl she was, because she fucking loved me. Do you love me Johnny?" Ghost cut off Soaps nodding with a glare. "I know your cock does, but that's not what I'm asking. Do YOU love me? Because I don't think you do. I think you love having someone complacent to you. You love thinking you have complete control and having everything bend to your fucking whim."

Ghost pulled away finally, letting Soap crumple to the ground coughing and clutching his neck. Ghost just shook his head and made his way to the door, grabbing the keys to his jeep off the rack and his familiar skull balaclava as he did so.

"Pick yourself up. Shits about to change, and I'm done letting you walk all over me. You better hope I find my girl again, or you better be gone when I come back. Your choice Johnny."

It wasn't good, wasn't healthy by any means, but everyone had a breaking point.

And you? What did you do? You lived. Love was definitely off of the table, but you managed to find a place to stay with a nice landlord who helped you find a job in your new small town. A nice older gentleman with sandy chops and a fatherly disposition. He became your best friend. Romance was dead to you at this point, but he was just so gentlemanly and sweet.

Little did you know that Price had forbid Simon and Johnny from your life after what you told him. He was protecting you in more ways than you knew from both the devil you knew and the devil you thought you knew. Simon was ravenous, like a rabbid dog desperately trying to get to you. But Price wasn't going to let him hurt you anymore.

And he didn't.

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taintedcigs · 8 months

Note

eddie w tattoo artist reader..... trying SO hard to seem like he's not dying from pain while she tattoos his chest, bc he's trying to impress her. she's the coolest girl he's ever seen and the fact that her art is on him forever makes him so giddy and happy, almost as happy as getting her number

call me if you need a groupie — e.m.

yes yes yes yes yes. a thousand times yes to this. thank u for this request omg i looooove lovesick cutie eddie soooooo much. this was meant to be a blurb but now its a 2.8k+ fic oops. idk if there were exclusive shirts ok i tried to do my research but this is the best i could get and idk how tattoo processes are so take everything i wrote w a grain of salt !! not proofread as always so ignore any mistakes and also idk why but i looved writing for this dynamic and if anyone would be interested i could write a pt.2 for some smut !! (maybe sub!eddie or switch!eddie? 👀)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!tattoo artist!reader (wc: 2.8k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI w any of my works!!. just pure fluff!! maybe the teeniest tiniest angst, eddie is kinda insecure <3, eddie is a lovesick cutie honey pie !! and swearing? oh also tattooing ofc (needles n stuff)

He doesn't mean to flinch, he doesn't mean to show you how stressed he is, but you can sense it.

Each time the needle presses against his skin, he hisses, mouth biting onto his lips, harsh enough to draw blood.

But Eddie doesn’t care, you—the hottest and coolest girl—that has ever graced the hellhole that was Hawkins was tattooing him, and Eddie couldn’t afford to look like a coward.

So with everything in him, he shut his lips, biting on them, becoming accustomed to the metallic taste because it didn’t matter, not when you looked so fucking pretty when cooing him and your free hand squeezed his biceps for reassurance.

He didn’t know what to admire first, the way your lips quirked sweetly when you answered his dumb questions, the way you looked so focused with your lip between your teeth, trying to tattoo him, or the fact that you were wearing an Anthrax shirt, and not just any regular Anthrax shirt that you could find at those regular shops, it was an exclusive shirt that was only sold at the concerts, and he had to gulp physically at that.

You were a tattoo artist… and a metal fan? How perfect could you get?

Before his questions were answered, the needle pricked at his skin again, he cursed out, and instead of screaming in his mind, he whimpered out loud this time.

Your head perked up quickly and Eddie was now cursing himself, for being a fucking idiot, for looking like a coward in front of you.

“I can slow down if you want to,” You said with a smile, a sweet smile that adorned your perfectly red lips, they looked so fucking kissable.

“N–no!” He stuttered, but you gave him a huff. “C’mon Eds, you’re doing good… better than anyone I’ve ever tattooed has, we can slow down a bit.” You reassured.

His eyes lit up like a child, Eds? His new acquired nickname rolled off your tongue so sweetly, your words dripped in honey. And Eddie decided he would do anything to hear you call him that again.

Not only did you call him Eds, but you also said he was better than the others, and the childish grin on Eddie’s lips was quick to grow again, his entire body relaxing as he almost melted into you.

“You think so?” He asked, tone giddy and all sweet, causing a pretty giggle to escape your lips.

“I know so!” You hummed. “Tattooed a guy yesterday. He was tall. Like really fucking tall, and he had this long beard and tattoos everywhere!” You exaggerated, watching Eddie’s eyes widen. “He cried like a baby the second that needle prickled his skin!”

“And look at you, taking everything I’m giving you like a champ,” You winked.

If only you knew the affect you had on him, Eddie’s entire face grew red at that, he would, without hesitation take anything you gave him.

He tried, so fucking hard not to think about it, but now his mind was filled with the images of you, sitting on his faze, your pretty cunt glistening as he lapped away at your juices.

He imagined those pretty manicured fingers discarding his hair, ruffling while those pretty little lips were hung open, chanting his name. Your whines and whimpers would fill the room as he begged for you to cum in his mouth. He wouldn’t stop until you smothered him.

Until all he could taste was you.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, because the blood was quick to rush to his cock, and he didn’t want to have his bulge hardening against his tight pants anymore than he needed to, you were inches away from him and he wanted to seem cool–so fucking badly.

“Really?” He asked, and you nodded swiftly. “So brave for me.” You coo, lips lightly brushing against his cheek, as you plant a little kiss.

And Eddie was sure this was heaven now, he blinked quickly to make sure he wasn't dreaming, the light kiss you left on his cheeks lingered, and he could feel it burn.

His cheeks were purely crimson red now, he couldn't fucking help it. He ached for you, ached to have you close to him, ached to feel your touch, and everything you did was enough to drive him crazy, make him feel out of his fucking mind.

He was putty in your hands and you had no fucking idea.

His mouth stood agape, a dumbfounded look overtaking his features for too fucking long until the soft buzz of the machine brought him back again, the needle quick to puncture the skin's surface again, causing Eddie to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried his best not to fucking scream.

Be cool, be cool, be fucking cool Edward Munson.

He repeated it like a mantra in his head, and he was glad you were focusing on tattooing the cute sketch you made for him, and not his actual face that probably looked straight out of a horror movie.

“So—uh... c—cool shirt,” Eddie muttered, voice so low that he was surprised when you hummed back at him.

“Oh, yeah,” You muttered.

“You listen to Anthrax?” You asked with a beaming smile, gaze still focused on Eddie's arm.

Eddie huffed painfully but realized quickly that the nervousness of talking to you was overpowering the pain of the tattoo gun drilling into his skin.

“Are you kidding? Anthrax, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath... Megadeth! You name it I probably listen to it,” He hummed, and your eyes glimmered, causing Eddie's breath to hitch and his wavering nervousness to appear again. “Metal is my jam, baby!” He exclaimed, not too loud to disturb your tattooing process but loud enough to cause a giggle out of you.

Metal is my jam? Baby? Who the fuck says that?

Eddie was afraid to look into your eyes now, afraid to see the gaze everyone gives him.

Like he's an outsider like he's a freak.

But when he hears that pretty giggle of yours again, comfort takes over him, nervousness dissipating quickly when he sees the gentle look you give him.

Almost as if to let him know that you also love those bands. Almost as if to let him know that he wasn't an outsider because you were just like him.

“Dio?” You asked with a curious gaze, face beaming up when Eddie nodded furiously.

“Fuckin' love Dio,” He muttered, barely realizing the needle on his skin now, all thanks to you.

“Uhh—how did you even get that shirt?” Eddie asked, almost shyly, admiring the way you were neatly tattooing him.

“I wanted to go to that concert so badly but the tickets were sold out so quickly.” He added.

“Oh! I was Belladonna's groupie,” You muttered mindlessly, the pain as you prickled the needle was an afterthought to Eddie now, almost forgetting how to breathe, he coughed, quite loudly, causing you to look up at him and see the bewildered look on his face.

You stopped the machine when you chuckled lightly, "Oh, Eds!"

There it was, that nickname again, god you were dizzying his mind.

“I was just joking,” You smiled at him, and he wanted to melt, right then and there. "Needed to go a little bit deeper so I thought I'd distract you," You shrugged, and Eddie returned the smile.

He liked the feeling of having someone care about him, he liked talking to you, and he sure as hell enjoyed being with someone so similar to him—someone so fucking cool.

“Though I did go to that concert in 1987.” You could feel Eddie’s curious gaze on you

“My friend knew their manager,” You murmured again.

"Really?!? How was it?" He asked, face beaming again.

“So fucking cool.” You gushed as you started talking about their set list, how the first punch you ever threw was at that concert, and you enthusiastically animated Donais' guitar riff, earning a hearty chuckle from Eddie. He loved every bit of your story, listening attentively as your exaggerations enticed him more and more.

The longer you tattooed him, the more comfortable Eddie got, pain was no longer his main concern when all he wanted to do was make you laugh, hear that sweet giggle escaping from your lips, admire the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him so sugary.

Minutes stretched into hours as you focused on his tattoo, each pass of the needle causing a smile on your face as the sketch you made became more intricate and alluring on his bare skin.

“All done!” You exclaimed with a smile when you finally finished tattooing him, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when the buzz of the machine was finally replaced with silence.

You couldn't help but trace every part of his face now, you wanted to see if he liked it, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach as you couldn't read Eddie's expressions.

“Oh my god,” Was all that left Eddie's lips, and your lips almost started to tremble.

Jesus fucking Christ, how bad did you fuck up?

“Oh my fucking god,” He repeated again, this time his head tilted upward to your direction, almost snapping as you looked at him with scared eyes.

But your gaze eased the second you saw the admiration in Eddie's gaze. “This is a fucking masterpiece!” He beamed, causing a smile on your lips, so fucking big and pretty that he wished he could have that tattooed instead.

“It's fucking perfect,” He muttered again, shaking his head in disbelief when he looked at the tattoo on his forearm.

“I mean when I saw that sketch, I knew you were good to , but holy shit,” He praised again, causing heat to grow in your cheeks, he had no idea how much it meant to you, to have someone appreciating your art, to have people walk around in the sketches you did, indelible on their skin. It felt so fucking good.

“It's...perfect.”

“Really?”

“Of fucking course,” He gushed. “You're so fuckin' talented it's crazy,” He muttered, fingertips gentle as they avoided glazing through the tattoo, but around it.

You were so fucking perfect it was killing him, and he couldn't help the giddy feeling inside of him knowing that your art would be etched into his skin, forever.

You couldn't shake off the thoughts in your head, swirling when Eddie uttered those compliments to you.

Your cheeks grew hot so quickly that you felt the need to turn around, trying to think of something to say to him so that you wouldn't look like a fucking idiot.

Eddie turned around to face you, the smile that brought out his dimples apparent in his face as he watched you scrabble something on a business card.

“Thank you,” You muttered when you turned around, hands almost shaking as you extended your arm to give Eddie the card.

He scrambled it into his back pocket, not caring when you were this close to him, but you frowned at that. “No, thank you, for this masterpiece” He winked, pointing toward his forearm.

He didn't even know where he got the confidence to even be able to wink at you, and his coolness wore off the second he exited the shop, a silent shrieking scream exited his mouth as he freaked out.

Your sketch. On his arm.

You. Tattoo artist. Metal fan.

You, kissing him on the cheek, talking to him for hours, laughing at his idiotic jokes.

You.

Eddie was sure he lost his mind, hands shaking as he reached for the card in his back pocket.

The card was black and the title on it was dripping with blood. He whined.

How much cooler were you going to get?

He gulped when he looked back, seeing you toward the clear glass door, and he knew.

He knew that if he didn't do it now, he could never do it, this was his only fucking chance, and he couldn't be a coward, not now, not when you were this close to him.

Eddie entered back into the shop in a frenzy, causing your head to pop up swiftly as you looked at him dumbfounded.

God, you were so gorgeous he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“C—can I ask you something?” He cleared his throat to not appear nervous, and you nodded, furiously.

“Look, I know this is weird and all... but... uhm, I really feel like we connected,” He muttered, fingers tapping against the glass counter that you were standing behind in.

“And I thought maybe... uhhh... I could like—get your number or somethin'?” He uttered anxiously, tilting his head slightly to the side, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips.

And even though why you laughed was reasonable, it was the worst fucking thing you could have done to Eddie.

Especially when your laugh seemed so mocking, almost different than the ones you gave him earlier before. Jogging deep into this memory of the countless times when Eddie tried to pluck up the courage to ask girls in his class out, only to be laughed in his face, or to have them insult him.

But this was more than that, it pained him.

It pained him to think that you thought of him like the others did. Like you saw him as an outsider, too.

His bubble of confidence that was already wavering was even quicker to fizzle out, he could feel that familiar lump in his throat, shoulders slumping as his gaze was quick to show his emotions.

He was hurt. And he was sure this hurt much more than a thousand needles breaking the barriers of his skin, “Uhhh,” He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Just.... never mind” He added, defeatedly turning back around to exit the shop once again as he ignored you calling out for him.

“Wait!” You yelled out after him, but Eddie started walking faster.

“Shit shit shit!” You cursed yourself for your little joke.

“Eds, please!” You called out again, this time effective enough to make Eddie stop in his tracks.

Eds. Oh you knew how to get him hooked, how to get him right where you wanted him.

And he hated himself for being this weak for you, someone he met, just recently.

“What?” He answered coldly, glaring at you with bitterness that made you want to hide out, that gentle soul in him disappearing in mere seconds.

And you sighed, hating that he could ever see you as someone that would make fun of him.

“Flip the card,” Your gaze on him was intense, cheeks growing hot again knowing that you were going to see his reaction to your stupid note.

“I don't have time for your bullshit” He spat, almost on his feet to leave.

You sighed. “Eds, just... will you just please flip the card?” You asked, all prettily that Eddie couldn't help but oblige, but be gentle with you again because he couldn't resist it. He couldn't resist you.

He huffed as he plucked the card out of the back pocket of his jeans, turning it over in one swift motion.

'CALL ME IF U NEED A GROUPIE' and your digits were attached right below it.

His gaze softened immediately, head drooping further as he huffed at himself.

He felt stupid, so fucking stupid.

Why did he ever think you would treat him like the others?

His chest expanded with hope when he looked back up at you, a soft smile graced his lips.

“Oh,” He muttered, not able to help the childish grin that was now stuck to his lips.

“Shut up,” You giggled, nudging him slightly.

“You owe me,” You narrowed your eyes sarcastically, causing his brows to quip.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asked, a newfound confidence washing him over when you were so easy to talk to.

“A date,” You beamed, scrunching your nose.

“Okay.” The words left his lips quickly, too quickly that it had you feeling giddy inside.

“How about tomorrow?” He didn't even know how he managed to get those words out without stuttering.

“Uhm—sure.” You were the one stuttering now, cheeks burning up as you could barely look at him. His grin was sickly inviting.

“I'll pick you up at 8?” You nodded so quickly that you were sure your head was about to fall off.

“See you tomorrow,” His voice was sultry as he winked again, making you almost melt, looking cool on the surface when all he wanted to do was go home, freak the fuck out, tell Wayne all about the cool girl who tattooed him, and not be able to sleep until your date tomorrow.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x tattoo artist!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine

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shubblelive · 7 months

Text

— NOT MUCH LONGER

summary : wilbur has always been dedicated to his viewers, sometimes too much. his fans are aware of this, you are aware of this, and he is aware of this. so when you go multiple days without seeing your boyfriend because of how hard he's working you take matters into your own hands, not realising that thousands of people are there watching you do it.

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of eating/food, a few swearwords, wilbur not taking care of himself, very small panicky moment

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is called wilbur's girlfriend/wife

featuring : cc!wilbur soot

requested : Could you do a fic where the reader isn’t a very public person (in regards to the internet) and one day, wilbur’s streaming and she goes in and brings him some food and kisses him, not knowing he was live, and when she notices, she just gets all red and embarrassed and wilbur goes out of frame with her and its just all fluffy, and the chat goes craaazy

word count : 1.3K

note : hi lmao. i know, i know it's been nearly 2 months since i 've posted anything. school really caught p to me, i was so stressed out i was crying like multiple times a day for a few weeks. i wanna thank you guys for your patience, i have one more week of classes before spring break and then exams are right after that so i am really unsure of how much free time i'm gonna have until like mid-november.

There was a lot of things that you loved about Wilbur. Of course there was, the two of you had been together since university, nearing on 5 years. Knowing for someone that long, though, and there were obviously aspects of your boyfriend that you were less than fond of. There weren’t a lot, but the main one was the fact that he was a major workaholic.

You were completely understanding of how important his job was to him. He had been doing it longer than you’d even known each other and you’d never want to do anything to make it seem like you were anything less than supportive.

But the last couple of weeks had been driving you crazy.

He’d be out all day filming for twenty different videos or in the studio - that was fine, you had your own work and hobbies to keep you occupied. But then he’d get home and it was straight to editing, or writing, or meetings for merch, album art, new videos. It had gotten to the point where you hadn’t even seen him in two days. You knew he’d been home, you vaguely heard the shower running while you were asleep, so tired you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head. Clothes had been added to the laundry hamper, and water glasses had been added to the sink. He’d messaged you, of course. You were high on his list of priorities, it being a no-brainer that whenever he got a free minute he was texting you to let you know where he was going, promising that he’d be home soon.

When you got home from work, you were pleasantly surprised to find his docs at the front door, neatly kicked to the side so they were out of the way along with the rest of your collective pile. You put your stuff down and practically floated around the house, searching for your boyfriend. Not in the kitchen, though the dishes had been done for you, left to dry. Not in the living room, though there was a coat draped over the back of the couch that you picked up and deposited in the bedroom (also empty, but his side of the bed was rumpled like he’d fallen straight on top of the blankets).

You were walking down the hallway when you finally heard him. He was talking softly, not outside of the norm for him. His office wasn’t soundproof, and you often heard him through the walls as you went about your day, whether that was laughing loudly as he streamed, or the muffled sound of him strumming his guitar, trying to write a new song. He was being quiet, probably editing a video. You knew he had his own room in the group office, just for him to edit, but he liked to bring them home sometimes.

You went back into the kitchen to dry the dishes for Wilbur and you noted that there weren’t any new plates added to the pile. You knew that Wilbur had eaten while he was gone, he’d texted you every time they ordered food, but you also knew that it had been a couple of days since his last home cooked meal. You, admittedly didn’t have much in the pantry, but it was made with love, which was the thought that counts.

That was the thought on the tip of your tongue as you knocked gently on the door, a plate of mac and cheese and a glass of water in hand, smile breaking out at the sight of your boyfriend at his desk.

Wilbur’s viewers had always been aware that he had a girlfriend. He mentioned you for the first time after you guys had been together for a year, and since then you were a sporadic presence in his online life, maybe a mention every couple of weeks or months. They didn’t know anything else though, not even your name. His viewers, over the past couple of years had developed their own nicknames for you. It started from one of the first streams you were mentioned in, someone in chat asked if you were Wilbur’s wife. He’d laughed, said no, and then tried to say you were not his wife, and instead pronounced it “wiff.” It got slightly out of hand over the years, with most people lovingly referring to you online as wiffleball. Wilbur had apologised profusely for the slip up, but you found it too funny to actually care. It was definitely weird for you to see, though, the phrase ‘Wiffleball’ randomly trending every couple of months.

So, they didn’t know your name, and they definitely didn’t know your face. Wilbur was usually on high alert for even your footsteps outside the door, let alone you wanting to come inside. He’d yell that he was live, and you’d wait dutifully at the door for him to come outside. It was more for your sake than his, but he cared just as much about your right to privacy as you did. But today, he was so preoccupied with the fact that he hadn’t seen you in nearly three days that he completely forgot to.

The monitor with his own face in it was tilted away from the door, and you were so entranced by the smile on his face that you didn’t notice until it was too late. He was standing to meet you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Hi, lovely, I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Wil,” Your hands were on his arms the second you placed the food down, and you were right about to kiss him properly when you saw a fast movement out the corner of your eye. His chat was whizzing by so fast that you almost couldn’t read it. You backed out of frame immediately, almost out of instinct, wide eyes meeting Wilbur’s. “You’re streaming?”

“Fuck,” Wilbur made sure that you were definitely out of the frame before putting his stream back on the loading screen and going back to check on you.

Your breathing was much faster than usual and he could all but see your heart jumping out of your chest. “I am so sorry, darling, I was too busy being happy to see you that I completely forgot that I was even streaming. Are you okay?”

Your hands found Wilbur’s shirt, clenching it between your fists and burying your face in the fabric across his chest. His hands were securely on your back as he held you while you calmed your breathing. You weren’t crying no, he could tell you just needed to slow your breaths down and you’d be alright. He was whispering reassurances in your ear and within a few minutes your heart had calmed down. “I’m alright.”

“I’m so sorry,” Wilbur launched immediately into apologies again but your vice grip on his shirt stopped him.

“I’m alright, Wilbur.” You strangely were alright. What you could see on the chat were all nice things, they were all so excited to see you. “Never want to go back on your stream again, but I’m okay with them seeing me.”

“You don’t have to be okay, love, if you’re not. I’ll get the VOD taken down when I’m done and edit you out and say something about not circulating the video, I am so sorry-”

“I’m fine, Wilbur.” You pulled the fabric closer to your chest, the movement effectively silencing him. “Like I said. I am still good not showing up on your streams and stuff, but you can leave the video up. I’m alright with it, I promise.”

He softened at your determined face. “I love you,” he said in place of another apology. “I love you, and I am still sorry that I forgot to tell you. No more until you say so, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you said earnestly, loosening your grip on his shirt. “I’ll let you finish up now, do you think you’ll be a while?”

Wilbur kissed you softly before sitting back in his chair and looking up at you full of love. “Trust me, I definitely won’t be much longer.”

#wilbuh #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot angst

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lukall705 · 2 months

Note

Chubby reader x dazai who is insecure about herself can you can i like your articles very much

Dazai x Chubby!Fem!Reader

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AHHHH i didn't expect anyone to request chubby reader stuff!! as a chubby person myself i get so happy when i see chubby reader content 😖

Also sorry for taking so long to wrote this!! i forgot i was a fanfic writer for a while!(and i was on a small break)

Please remember english isn't my first language so my gramer isn't the best!

______________________________________________________________

Sfw!:

First off, it fucking cannon (if i remember correctly) that he loves all type of women!! No matter size, race, age(not under 18 tho!!) and much more!!

He would be so hurt to find out his beautifull and amazing belladona is insecure about her weight:(

He holds you so tight and tells you how much he loves you and your chubbines!

He hates when he sees you judging yourself in the mirror when you think hes not there

It hurst him to know you don't feel confidant in the clothes he gets you and he is quite literally ready to get the people who made you insecure killed

He always hold you close to him and makes you lay on top of him when cuddling since he finds comfort in the weight on top of him

if you ever even as much as utter the word "i'm to heavy", then just know he is gonna be shocked to the bone and all pouty

"i'm to heavy.." *Dramatic ass gasp* "How dare my Beautifull, amazing, pretty, sexy, hot,(ect) Bella accuse me of beaing to weak to handler her waight!!"

He would love to see you in skin tight clothes since he loves to look at your body, its very beautifull to him

Wants you to wear his clothes

if you start talking about going on a diet hes gonna beg you not to(unless its what really want or due to health reasons) since he loves your chubbines

"Bella! there is no reason for you to lose weight! you look absolutely beautiful just the way you are!"

Nsfw!:

Wants you to ride his face 101%!!

"baby, you aren't to heavy, plus it would be the best way to die, in between my beautiful belladona's thighs!"

This motherfucker will drag your body down on his face so he can feel your full waight

one time he passed out for a few seaconds since he couldn't breath

"My dear, that was the closest to death i've been in a while!"

Wants you to wear lingerie, he says it makes you look super sexy

______________________________________________________________

This was a bit rushed TT

i couldn't come up with more on the nsfw part TT

Also requests are open but i have quite a lot so it'll take a while before i can finish them! and i'm gonna try finishing some of the older ones!

#bsd #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #bsd x reader smut #bungo stray dogs #chuuya #dazai smut #chuuya nakahara #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #bsd smut #dazai osamu x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd headcanons #dazai x reader smut #dazai osmau #dazai bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo gay dogs

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lix-ables · 1 year

Text

🎀 𝐬𝐤𝐳 + 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ... 🩰

— minors dni, 18+ content.

🧽 smut includes, perv thoughts, exhibitionism + voyeurism, use of mirror, sexting, slight pillow humping (sigh), bondage - use of ties/ribbons, gagging, dirty talk, edging, groping, lingerie kink, panty stealing, corruption kink, oral fixation, dacryphillia, mentions of f and m rec, marking, mentions of tempurature play - ice, etc ( happy reading lovelies ‹33 )

🫀note: this was fr so much fun to write though i reposted this like 3 times so far, but third times a charm ig. please show this one some love, reblog and leave feedback !! it's my baby and im proud of it fr 😩

꒰ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 ꒱… he'd watch you get into the car, his eyes looking you up and down when he saw what you wore - now for him, whatever you wore, he loved it. he thought you looked good in anything you wore. but today was so much more different - he couldn't hold it in. any other day, he'd think about it, and get himself off in the shower or in his room when you weren't home. but he had to tell you. now, he'd be polite but oh so teasing about it.

his free hand would rest on your thigh, while the other was placed on the steering wheel, his voice soft and low.

“wore this for you,” you tease back, pulling slightly at the hem of your skirt. “is that so?” chan smirks, his eyes focused on the road. how he wishes he was watching you right now, maybe stuff a finger or two to keep you from talking at all.

you'd laugh about it, trying to tease him more, before he mentions it and you tell him something was in his head for him to be this needy. “you think its funny,” he puts in, his eyes deadset on the road.but thats when he starts telling you about the thoughts he was having more recently than ever, and he can see you pressing your thighs together from the corner of his eyes. with his eyes on the road, and his mind filled with you, he'd guide you, instructing you more so, telling you things you'd want to hear, and things you have heard before - only thing is you're in the car with him. “fuck i bet its that pretty nude colour, hm? you know how pretty thats gonna look when i slide my dick between those tits of yours?”

“c-chan,” you whine, whispering for him to stop and focus. “oh i’m focused enough, baby. but i don’t think you are hmm?”

his words continue teasing you till the red light, and so now you'd have to be careful for him, there were other vehicles next to you, but chan didn't care about that. no one was watching you from how close he was. if he couldn't take matters into his own hands, he'd have to talk you through it. “take that off baby and be slow. one finger in. tease yourself for me, no one can see you - but they wish they could, hm?”

꒰ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 ꒱… with minho, it’s simple, and he knows it as well. he loves teasing you to the point that you’re frustrated with him, and he fucks the frustration out of you – with his fingers gripping at your waist as he fucked you from behind, not forgetting to leave marks and bruises to your back. with minho, its also all about fun. from the moment he found out that you get too worked up and annoyed at him when he sent you a dick pic, just once, he wanted to try it out again.

with his thoughts about how you’d feel, with either your fingers or your lips wrapped around his length, teasing him, making him pull you closer, he seats a chair in front of the mirror in your room, a long white ribbon in his hand, taking his shirt and his sweats off, placing them in front of him on the floor, before sitting down on the chair, the cool wooden material making him groan in pleasure. if only he had ice with him right now, he’d bring it in a glass surely, keeping it down on the ground next to him, before taking a piece, teasing the tip of his cock, letting the coolness of the object in his hand melt so that it dripped onto the floor. and he fucking wished you were there to watch him tease himself. he’d either make you sit across him, and make you watch him as he got off, or he’d have you on your knees, while you tried to top him.

“desperate to top me hm?” he’s whisper, when he thinks of you showing up with one of his ties, suggesting that he had them around his wrist while he fucked your mouth. “you know you can’t do that right? no matter how much you try?”

“shut up and let me try,” you mumble a reply, as you bring the cloth tie to bind his wrists. how he’d love to tease you about it, before he did the same to you.

<remember the time you wanted to top me?> he sends in a message, reaching for the ribbon that he had set aside, and clicking a picture to send it to you.

and now all he had to do, was wait for you send in a reply, telling him how frustrated you were.

꒰ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧 ꒱… now, you grind your pillow, not knowing that he's there, your fingers curling into the material of the pillow, your buttoned up shirt off, revealing your tits.

the way he'd just almost let out a moan when he sees you ride that pillow, when he sees you grab a tit, teasing the nipple once, wishing it was his thigh instead, and wishing it was his fingers instead, flicking and licking that sensitive bud. that's when he has a thought - he needed to see you ride that pillow in front of him, while he was in the room. but that's also when he hears you call out his name, whining until it gets too much, your fingers curling into the material of the pillow case as you rode your high out.

all this, while changbin watches. all this, while he thinks about scenarios of his own, wishing it was him, instead of that inanimate thing under you and between your thighs because of course, he'd be able to get you off as well, much more than the pillow. he's confident of that much.

he'd also think about how when you both went shopping, and you pulled him into the dressing room with you, making him sit down as you changed in front of him. he was your friend, sure - more like a friend who comes over every other night to fuck your brains out, but at that moment, at the dressing room, he had only one thought - his fingers tangled in your hair, as you clamped a hand over your mouth from whining when he reached over to pull you close to him, bringing his dick out only to buck his hips into you, a small help from you making him continue the same movements over and over, until you rode him with your fingers digging into his shirt as his own fingers stuffed past your lips, your tongue twirling around his fingers while his other hand rubbed your clit. “fucking needy little thing, aren’t you, doll? always needing something to stuff you up full, hm?”

꒰ 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 ꒱… when you're in the car with him, hyunjin has thoughts about you, and it was more now than before, because you just happen to wear his favourite pair of lingerie – he knows this because he took a peek at what you were wearing when you got in, the wind exposing a little bit of your thighs and also the shirt you wore? exposed the top half of the lingerie.

now he didn't mean to look at it. he knew deep down it would be an issue for him, but it was hard for him to control the need to just pull you to him and let you ride his fingers.

“you look good today,” he mumbles as he places his hand on the steering wheel, pausing a minute to take a good look at you. fuck. he should not have done that. and he knew it was wrong for sure, but when he saw the lingerie, his mind just... wandered.

he remembered from the time how he whined at the sight of you on your knees for him, getting him off while his friends/roommates are just outside in the living room, his fingers way too tangled in your hair, pulling and tugging on it while you looked up at him, your eyes watching his every expression. he'd be embarrassed by the fact that he has thoughts about you, unlike chan who is polite about it, but he can't help it. he'd obviously let you tease him, even if it would be torture for him, he cares about you and how you'd feel.

꒰ 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 ꒱… when you mentioned buying a couple of cute things to try on for him, jisung’s mind was busy. busy with thoughts about how to bring up the topic of gagging – how he wants to see you under him, with either his shirt or your panties in your mouth, while he fucked you. he also wanted to bring up the topic of how he had at least four pairs of your lingerie lying in his room, which he jerked off to… until one day, you found it yourself.

“ji, what’s this?” you call out to him, and he looks up from his phone, paying attention to the flimsy object resting between your fingers – your panties. “uhm, about that… i wanted to uh, talk to you –” he fumbles with his words, shooting straight up, ready to walk towards you with an explanation at the tip of his tongue.

“nuh uh, sit back down,” you shake your head at him, walking to the couch where he sat, motioning for him to sit down. with your hands coming to a rest on his shoulder, and your legs on either side of his own, you straddle him, keeping in mind that your crotch came directly in contact with his own bulge, which seemed to grow harder under you, and you take this as an advantage to grind against it a little.

“tell me more,” you hum when he groans in a needy tone, his hands on either sides and on the couch, fingers aching to fidget with something, anything. “tell me what you do.” “fuck, uhm. i uh –” “– jerk off to them?” you finish for him, bringing the material in between the two of you, before grinding against him once again, which earned a hiss from the boy under you. “shit can you no –”

“show me.” you smile at jisung, hand him your panties, inching forward and leaning close to him at the same time, and he shuffles in his seat. “show me how you jerk off with it. i’m sure you have thoughts, about me, maybe?”

“i’m sorry i just –” “i want to see,” you push again, this time resting your fingers on his chest, caressing the material under your touch. “i want to help. please let me help.”

꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 ꒱… felix has always thought about how you’d look with his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them. maybe even thought about your lips wrapped around the length of his dick, as he bucks his hips slowly, thrusting in and out to see your expression every time he pulled away. so when you came to him about your oral fixation, knowing absolutely almost to nothing about it, you could say he was pleased that you came to him, instead of someone else.

“what is it that you want to know, darling?” he whispers, his fingers tangled in yours as he seats you both on his couch, and he turns to face you. “i just keep wanting to have something, anything in my mouth, and i can’t help but feel –” you explain, only to stop when you see felix smiling at the words you chose. “what?” you mutter, clearly embarrassed now. “let me explain it to you in this way,” he starts, letting his hand rest under your jawline, tilting your chin to make you look at him. his thumb rests on your bottom lip, while the other fingers support your chin from under. “open, love,” he parts his lips, assuring you that he wouldn’t do anything without your permission. “it’s alright,” felix smiles, as he watches you part your lips for him, letting him slip his thumb inside, before he continues.

“suck. slowly, i’m not going anywhere,” he assures you again, his eyes watching you look at him, while his thumb was in your mouth, and he almost lets out a single groan when he feels your tongue twirl around it. “that’s it, there you go,” felix mutters, the smile on his face never leaving as he continues, “you, my darling, have the need to suck on something all the time don’t you? that’s okay,” he responds when you nod your head, while continuing to suck on his thumb. “i think there was a time when i used to bring people over, i’d either want to eat them out or mark them up, nice and pretty, all the time,” he recalls, his choice in words making your cheeks turn a shade of pink as you pull away from him.

“sorry,” you mumble, wiping your mouth of the drool before looking back at him. “that’s alright, love. i think i’d be able to help you with that fixation of yours, hm?” “it’s not going to change anything between us, right?” you question, hoping you’d still get to be friends with felix. “sure, baby. nothing’s going to change except me satisfying your oral fixation, or teaching you how to,” he smiles. but in his mind, he was thinking about how he would transition from having you suck on his fingers, to choking on his dick, but at your own pace. he wouldn’t want to corrupt you too much now, would he?

꒰ 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 ꒱… seungmin had been thinking all morning about how good you felt, with your lips wrapped around his cock, while a set of his fingers rested on your head, stroking your hair, tugging on it every now and then when he felt you were teasing him a bit too much; another set of fingers gripped your own, as you looked up at him, your eyes filled with tears. “shh, pup. fuck… right there,” he hummed, just when your tongue kitten licked the tip of his cock, before letting him buck his hips into your face, your throat making a sound out of pleasure when he did so.

“fuck,” he mutters, raking his hands through his already messy hair, his fingers slipping past the sweats he was wearing, wrapping firmly around his length before fishing it out right after he pulled the material down for better access. just the mere thought of you tearing up, while being on your knees for him and ready to have him past your lips had him groaning in pain. and just when he needed you, his mind would wander – thoughts about you, sometimes scenarios of your hands being tied behind your back with the tie he wore that day – the navy blue cotton material tight around your wrists, but not too tight to stop the circulation of blood – god, the image he had in his head made him lose control, even when he knew he shouldn’t. on other days, thoughts about him deep throating you when he felt the need to just cool off as he gamed with the boys, you’re on your knees, he imagines, not even out of your work clothes as you took him as deep as you could, your nails digging into his thighs as his hips bucked into your face, his cock making you choke and gag, before it had you drooling – a fantasy he needed to come true.

so that’s when he decides to text you – <when’re you getting here? i need to fuck that pretty throat of yours.>

꒰ 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 ꒱… when jeongin found out about his new found fetish for being tied, he came and knocked on your door, hoping you’d answer quickly. “i need you to help me,” he mumbles when you open the door for him and he makes himself at home on your couch. by now that couch was his favourite place - his second home, if you could say. “do you need me to get you off or…”

“it’s complicated,” jeongin sighs, as he pulls out his black tie from his sweats, and places them on the coffee table in front of you. “fuck, i want to try something, please?” he whines, the neediness in him being so obvious that you kneel down in front of him, holding the tie in your hand, and look up at him. “what do you want me to do, baby?” you nod, resting your hand on his thigh, while your other hand feels the material of the tie in between your fingers. “tie my wrists please? want you to tease me, but i don’t think i can stop myself from holding on to something, and i don’t want to hurt you,” he shuts his eyes, laying his hands in front of him, for you to take and tie them up.

which is what leads to the current situation – you on jeongin’s side, as he sits with his dick out in your hand, his shirt riding up to his chest, while his hands are tied behind his back.

“fuck, please don’t tease,” he whines out, his fingers curling an uncurling at the way your fingers stroked his length. “you were just telling me about how you weren’t being good,” you remind him, applying a little more pressure on your grip than before, which makes him exhale deeply. “shit, y/n… you k-know i can’t–” “talk? i do know that, but you need to tell me what you did,” you caress his bare thigh and look at the way he curled his toes. “you’re going to be sitting here all night, baby, and i’ll make sure you come at least thrice more before i let you go,” you remind him, your voice soft as you let him ride out his second orgasm. “so tell me, what thoughts have you had about me, hm?

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