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daechwitatamic · 1 year

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IX. Heedless and Willful || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love.

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

Things accelerate between you and Namjoon, but complications linger.

Section Warnings: language, kissing, groping, breast play/nip stim, fingering, protected sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms (f. receiving), multiple rounds

WC: 8k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Saturday December 1st

The weekend brings with it a deluge of rain, a slow-moving weather system that has the streets holding inches of water, the road-side drains overflowing.

You stay inside all day, and so does Namjoon, but you largely orbit around each other, working on your own things, leaving the other alone.

Things had accelerated so suddenly between you that now you feel like you had slammed on a brake, inertia carrying you to teeter dangerously over an edge. You’re not sure if Namjoon is feeling the same way, but you think it’s probable.

You kind of want to tip over the edge, is the thing.

You work in your room, sitting at your desk, your bedroom door wide open. You’re kind of working, kind of watching water rush down the road below the apartment. It’s well after dinner, pitch black outside, but the streetlights illuminate the flow as the rainwater moves along beneath you. You’re having trouble focusing because of the rain - it lulls you to sleep, tricks you into thinking it’s bedtime. You can’t remember ever seeing rain like this, and the sound is all-encompassing, like you could wrap yourself up and exist within it.

You’ve just given up on focusing and closed your laptop for the night when there’s suddenly a huge boom from outside, loud and close enough that the floor shakes beneath your feet, and everything goes black around you. You scream, startled, and jump to your feet, knocking your desk chair over behind you with a loud clatter. That startles you a second time, and you scream again, clutching at your chest and backing yourself against your bedroom wall, heart pounding.

Across the apartment, Namjoon shouts your name, his voice deep and commanding, clearly alarmed.

The dark presses in around you, little fingers on your ankles and arms. You can’t see anything - not your bed, not the chair on the floor, not your hand in front of your own face. The silence is suddenly so loud it throbs around you - the sudden lack of normal noise toying with your senses. You’ve never been in quiet like this - no hum from the refrigerator, the central air system, your devices. All you can hear is your heartbeat pulsing in your ears, the angry, relentless sound of rain, and the echo of Namjoon’s voice calling your name, playing back and looping through your mind so loudly that it’s almost like you’re hearing it again.

You are hearing it again - his alarmed voice cuts through the darkness, calling your name with a little bit of an edge, a tinge of fear this time.

“I’m here,” you manage, your voice coming out like a gasp.

From the living room, you can see a small point of light coming rapidly closer, and then Namjoon appears in your doorway, guided by his cell phone’s flashlight. He seems a little out of breath as he pauses in the doorway, taking in the scene before him - you pressed against the wall, a hand still pressed to your racing heart, the chair askew on the floor, the rain pelting the window like it wants to break the glass.

Once he can see that you’re unharmed, Namjoon clicks his phone off, and you both let your eyes adjust. In the dark, everything various shades of black, his shape seems so large, taking up so much of your vision. He steps around the chair, not bothering to right it, and stops about two feet from you.

“I think a transformer blew out there,” he says, his voice odd, like most of his brain isn’t even aware that he’s speaking.

Two feet from him, your hands itch to reach out and touch him. Your feet beg to close the space between you. Your heart continues to throw itself against your ribcage, furious and demanding to be heard. The darkness takes its tiny fingers off your limbs, presses guiding fingertips to your back instead, nudging you forward.

If you’re going over the edge anyway, isn’t it better to jump than to fall?

Two feet from him, in the most profound darkness and silence you’ve ever experienced in your life, you find yourself nearly gasping for each breath as you fight your body’s every urge.

A line of St. Vincent Millay’s poetry leaps into your head, unbidden:

in me alone survive the unregenerate passions of a day when treacherous queens, with death upon the tread heedless and willful, took their knights to bed

Heedless and willful, you jump, crossing the space in a single stride. Namjoon’s hands coming to your waist like he was waiting for you.

He can kiss you only for a moment before he’s interrupted by you tugging his shirt up; he breaks away from you to pull it the rest of the way off and tosses it behind him, coming back to attach his mouth to your neck, sucking and kissing a line down to your collarbone. You run your hands along his chest, over his pecs, down his stomach, up his sides, your head thrown back to make room for him as he nips and soothes at your throat.

He groans happily as you dip your fingers towards the waistband of his jeans, then tugs bossily at your own shirt. You peel it off, dropping it to your feet, and move to kiss him again, but he’s busy reaching around your back and deftly pinching the clasp of your bra. It falls away, and you shake the straps loose from your arms, hearing it hit the ground. Cold air assaults your chest only a second before Namjoon’s large hands cup you, his mouth searing against yours out of nowhere.

Everything’s heightened in this total dark, total silence. You can hear every hitch of his breath, the thud of your own pulse, can feel every tiny movement of his hands, of his mouth. He toys lightly with your nipples, running his fingers in circles around them before plucking at them lightly, then abandoning your chest to run his hands over all the newly uncovered skin - your stomach, your back, your arms.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I’ve thought so the whole fucking time, you’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t think straight sometimes.”

“Namjoon,” you gasp quietly, half a reaction to his words and half a reaction to him gripping the waistband of your joggers and pulling them down over your ass in one motion. You kick them off and he walks you backwards to your bed, pushing at your shoulders until you fall backwards. You hear his zipper as he removes his jeans, and when he climbs up next to you on the bed you can feel but not see him straining against his boxer-briefs.

He brings his mouth to a nipple without warning, giving it one experimental lick and taking it between his lips when you whine in appreciation. You can feel yourself getting impossibly wet as he alternates licking and sucking, and his spare hand rubs circles down your body until he reaches the lace edge of your underwear, and he pauses. It’s the first time tonight he’s shown any hesitation.

He removes his mouth from your breast and moves back up where he can kiss you. His fingers skim the lace, a ghost of a touch, barely there.

“You good, baby?” he murmurs, so low, and you feel yourself clench - over the timbre of his voice or his cocky use of the pet name, you’re not sure. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Touch me. Please.”

It’s wild how dark it is, how you can’t see anything on his face, can’t see which way he’s moving; the dark seems like it’s pressing in around you, like it’s the very thing shielding you from the onslaught of rain that you can still hear loud and clear.

Namjoon’s fingers skim over your slit so lightly it almost tickles, and you squirm, needing more. He presses harder on his second pass through, pressing the lace against your entrance. He moans when he feels how wet you are even through your panties, pressing himself harder against your leg as he swipes his fingers through again. Then he’s hooking his thumbs under the waistband and pulling your panties down your legs, cupping your sex with his whole hand.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers hoarsely, and presses his middle finger into your heat up to the last knuckle. You suck in a breath, fingers curling in your bedspread, as he fucks you that way - middle finger only - for the barest of minutes before adding a second digit.

“God,” you groan, feeling yourself stretch to accommodate it. “Damn it.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs. “You’re so wet, what the fuck.” He’s right - you can hear it each time he pushes back into you. Your back arches, your body trying to press his fingers even deeper. When his thumb grazes your clit, you gasp out loud.

He swallows the rest of your noises with a kiss as he continues, and when the crest of your orgasm snaps a few minutes later you moan messily into his mouth as his fingers fuck you through it, steady and unyielding.

“Holy shit,” he groans when you clench around his fingers as the waves hit you. “That’s right, baby, fuck.”

You’re reaching for his briefs the second you’re back in your body, down from your high, and he pulls his fingers from you gently to help wiggle them over his hips and off his body. You slide your hand over him lightly and he hisses through his teeth as you wrap your fingers around him and rub him base to tip, sliding your palm over the wet head of his cock, using his own pre-cum to slick up your hand as you continue.

He’s hot in your hand, bigger than you’d expected, and you revel in listening to his light moans turn breathy as you toy with him. Finally, he grabs your wrist, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“Should I go get a condom?” he asks, voice so low it’s almost a growl.

“I have some,” you tell him, rolling away from him and sliding your nightstand drawer open. You lay on your stomach so you can use both hands to rip a new one from the strip, and Namjoon rises to his knees behind you, one hand tracing the curve of your ass.

You reach over your shoulder to hand him the foil packet, and you’re startled by his phone light again when he turns it on so he can see what he’s doing. His phone lays on the bed, illuminating him from below, and you take a minute to take in how good he looks. You’d had no idea he had that body under his sweaters and baggy t-shirts.

He turns the light off again, the darkness surprising you with its intensity all over again. Your eyes are so busy trying to adjust again that you miss him moving until you feel his hands guiding you to lay back, his legs stretching between yours, his tip prodding your entrance as his lips find yours again.

“You’re okay?” he checks in a whisper, reaching down and squeezing himself at the base.

You kiss him in answer, pressing your core against him, letting your body tell him yes, I’m fine, yes, I’m ready.

He rocks into you slowly, an inch at a time, and the sensation tears a low, long groan from you. It mingles with his own; he breathes through his mouth in short pants, tinged with half-formed moans, until he bottoms out and he stills.

“Give me just a second,” you request, whispering, and he nods, running a hand reverently down your face, down your side, coming to rest under your ass, hitching you up slightly as he adjusts. You hiss as the movement forces him just a touch deeper as you struggle to relax.

He kisses you again, deeply and sweetly, and as you grip his shoulders and feel yourself relax, you start to move, little bits at a time.

“Okay,” you whisper, when you’re ready. “Thanks.”

He scoffs, like it’s ridiculous of you to be thanking him, but he starts to move. It’s slow, and even though you can barely see him you get the feeling that his eyes are on you. In the amplified silence, each breath seems to echo between you, each tiny moan or hitch of breath coming through loud and clear. You kiss sloppily, your hands exploring as he keeps the slow rhythm. His cockhead drags against you, the feeling agonizingly sweet, and you arch against him, trying to bring him closer.

The rain beats against the windows in waves as he fucks you slowly, like it wants in, like it has a score to settle. You press fingertips gently to Namjoon’s face, blindly feeling your way to the flat of his cheekbone, down to his jaw. Everything feels so intense, your fingers shake a little as they trace his jawline, reverent.

“Namjoon,” you whisper, and he answers you by sheathing himself completely, pressing his mouth to yours, and doubling the pace. He’s so large, it feels like he’s everywhere - inside you, around you, above you, everywhere.

You cry out when he finds an angle that has you seeing stars with each stroke, and he grunts, working hard to keep hitting it the same way. You lock your legs around the back of his thighs, trying to keep him close. You cling to his shoulder with one hand and tangle the other in his hair, holding tight as he pounds into you. When he feels you start to pulse around him, the beginning of an orgasm starting to build up, he actually laughs, once.

“Close, baby?” he asks, reaching down to press his thumb against your clit.

“Y-yeah,” you gasp, the feeling of electricity racing clear down to your toes. “Joon, please, oh - god -.”

He hums, pleased, and shifts you so he’s holding you up by the hips, the angle changing just slightly.

“Ohmygod, yes,” you cry, and the circles he’s been rubbing into your clit suddenly send you flying, your eyes screwing shut, a single, wordless wail leaving you as every muscle in your body goes taut.

“Fuck,” Namjoon hisses as you squeeze around him, dropping his forehead onto yours and gasping your name as he spills into the condom inside you. He pumps into you a few more times as your muscles relax by degrees, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

You lay tangled together for a few minutes, both breathing hard. Namjoon slips out of you gingerly and shifts like he’s going to get up. You kiss him quickly, before he can get too far, and he stills, letting you.

When you’re content, he disappears into the bathroom, dealing with the condom and cleaning up. He returns with a damp cloth for you, turning the light on his phone back off again when you’re done.

In the total darkness, he pulls you close. You rest your head against his chest, his arms around you, and listen to his heart. Despite the storm and the power-outage, you’ve never felt so safe. You can’t imagine ever feeling anything else while he’s wrapped around you like this.

“You called me baby,” you tease after a little while, and he snickers.

“It just slips out,” he laments, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Sex makes me… affectionate. I have trouble untangling the two.”

You hum against him. “I think I like that,” you observe, and he hugs you a little tighter.

You’re starting to drift off when he says your name again.

“Hm?”

“I promise this isn’t the post-sex chemicals talking,” he says carefully. “But I wanted you to know. I think… I’m really falling for you.”

You press your lips together, wrap an arm around his middle and hold him close. Your chest feels like it’s caving in, your eyes suddenly burn, you can’t inhale.

Because you’ve felt it, too. And you don’t know what to do with it.

He takes your silence the wrong way. “You don’t have to - don’t feel pressure to say anything -.”

“No,” you say quickly. “I promise, it’s very much not that. I’ve… maybe been thinking the same thing. It’s just… scary. You know?”

He presses his lips to the top of your head. “Yeah,” he says. “It can be. But I’m here. We’re in it together, okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, tangling your feet in his legs, searching for a warm spot for your chilly toes. “Okay.”

Sunday December 2nd

The lights come on hours before dawn, your lamp illuminating the room in a yellow glow, your laptop dinging as it starts to receive charge again, your alarm clock numbers flashing 12:00 over and over again. You lay there, still, coming to your senses by degrees.

Namjoon is still in bed with you; you can feel his body, warm and solid, behind you. Minutes pass and it becomes clear by his steady deep breathing that the lights aren’t going to wake him up. You roll slowly, trying not to disturb him. He’s sleeping on his back, his face turned away from you, one arm flung up over his head. You feel yourself smile as you look at him.

There’s not a doubt in your mind that you want this, that you want him - wholly, completely, without boundaries or limitations. There’s not a doubt in your mind that the way he treats you - the way he gives you such openness and understanding, the way he listens and asks questions, the way he hears you and cares for you - is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. When you’re with him, you feel like he’s by your side, like he’s got you.

And while Taehyung had been physically next to you for the last seventeen or so years of your life, it’s never felt like this.

You scoot closer, lining your body up against his side, and reach an arm over his stomach, pulling yourself as tight to him as you can and laying your head on his chest. In his sleep, he shifts, sensing the difference, the arm that was over his head coming down over your back and pulling you in. Then his head lolls back to your side, his eyelids fluttering. He reaches to press a kiss to the top of your head, and then flops back down against your pillow.

“Lights’re back?” he tries to ask, the words slurring together with sleep.

“Mhm,” you answer. “Do you want me to get up and turn the lamp off?”

“No,” he says, voice low and scratchy. “Stay.” Then he reaches over, guiding your chin up gently so he can lean down and kiss you again.

You open for him immediately, leaning up on an elbow to reach him better. It’s different this time - slow and sensual, explorative, relaxed. There’s no rush, no pressure for it to go further. His fingers run through your hair once, twice, then release it, skimming down your bare back instead. You realize with a shiver that you hadn’t gotten up to find pajamas in the dark.

He keeps you warm anyway, his hands roaming your back, your arms, your ass, your back again. You have a lot of things you want to tell him, but you save them, store them for later, as your body responds to his touch and you give yourself to him again. When he pants your name against your lips you feel the words bubbling up inside you, beating against doors to be let out, but you lose them along with your senses when he tips you over the edge again.

You clean up better after this time, waddling to the bathroom to pee and then stopping at your dresser to pull out pajamas. Namjoon hovers near your bed, clearly unsure if he should head to his own side of the apartment or not.

You scoff at him, like he should know better. “Get back in that bed,” you demand teasingly, and he listens, running a hand through his messy hair and looking around like he’s a little dazed, a little unsure of how he got here.

You click the lamp off and make your way back to him.

He wraps his arms around you immediately, and you eventually fall asleep matching your breaths to his slow ones.

Wednesday December 5th

I know my many failings I just can’t be the girl I should But I hope you know despite this In my life, you’re everything good

It’s certainly not good writing, and you have zero intention of turning this in for anything - zero intention of another living soul ever seeing it. But it feels good to put the words to paper.

You close the notebook when Gloria and another girl from class join your table. You’ve been assigned the task of workshopping your classmates’ portfolios as the semester crawls to a close, and today you’re meant to sit around and talk through your notes with each other.

“I want to go first,” you say immediately. “Gloria, you are out of your mind.”

Gloria beams, knowing exactly what you’re referring to.

“Catch me up?” the third girl, Sharmin, asks.

“Gloria’s entire portfolio is in iambic pentameter,” you tell her dryly. “Honestly, Gloria, I’ve got to know why.”

Gloria giggles. “Okay, okay - it really was just for the challenge. Like, it’s super great that poetry is all no rules but sometimes the challenge of saying what you’re trying to say within the framework of existing rules is… kind of fun?”

“I shall call you The Bard. Or maybe Bardess,” you joke.

The three of you move on to discuss the actual content of Gloria’s portfolio and then Sharmin’s - asking questions, noting lines you really liked, pointing out patterns and themes and hedging guesses on their meanings.

Finally, it’s your turn.

“Your voice is really sharp,” Sharmin compliments you. “I mean… maybe I don’t mean sharp. Clear? Crisp? Something like that.”

“I thought so too,” Gloria agrees. She pulls up a document on her laptop, referring to some notes she took. “I also noticed - and really liked - that while your topics were all different from each other, you had this recurring theme of life and death.”

You stare at her blankly. “I do?”

She gives you a sideways smile; it’s not uncommon for you two to pick things up in each other’s writing that you hadn’t noticed.

“Sure,” she says, and her finger goes to her screen as she reads a few examples, “Who would try to fight the tide, / the dark, the depth, the chill? That’s from your first one.

“Then, the second one: On Sundays I leave stones / atop marble markers to memorialize / those that you and I chose / to leave unturned. That whole entire poem is about a graveyard, so, yeah.”

“Oh! And your latest one!” Sharmin adds. “Where you’re, like, growing bones in your chest?”

You cover your face. “It sounds so dumb like that.”

But even as you’re speaking, other lines spring into your head:

Autumn leaves me hollow.

but my feet itch and beg to go, / into the night where the wolfpack hunts, / into the storm of wind and snow.

Nothing grows here that isn’t dead.

Gloria’s right. You do have a recurring theme about death.

You hadn’t realized. You hadn’t known you were weaving this single thread through everything you put to paper.

What you did know, the part you were aware of was that every one of those poems was about Taehyung.

You press your fingers over your mouth and take a slow, steadying breath. Somehow, everything hurts. It feels like you’re coming apart. It feels like your sutures have been cut too soon as you wrestle with this truth laid out for you:

Every metaphor you ever wrote with Taehyung in mind was somehow connected to death.

Like something inside you knew, long before you did, that whatever was between you was dead before it started.

Like something inside you knew that no matter how many words you devoted to him, you could never breathe life into it.

Like something in you knew the situation had a failure to thrive from the very beginning.

“And life?” you finally manage to ask through your fingers. But you already know every line you wrote about what comes next, about moving forward, about better possibilities.

If autumn can’t make me happy, / I wonder if winter might.

I know despite the dangers, / I can’t afford to stay inside.

This one, they say, will live.

And, most recently - that the girls hadn’t even seen, in my life, you’re everything good.

You didn’t need someone to point these lines out to you. You knew exactly what you’d been writing about - Namjoon, and the way his very presence seemed to represent the promise of something better.

–

You hustle home after class, walking so fast that you actually get your heart-rate up. Inside, you drop your bag on the ground and call Namjoon’s name, crossing the living room.

“Yeah?” he calls back, turning at his desk, but you’ve already entered his room, approaching him at a clip.

He’s got about a hundredth of a second to look surprised before you’re kissing him, hands coming up to cup his face firmly. He leans up to meet you, grunting with happy surprise, his hands coming to rest on your forearms.

When you break away, he smiles at you quizzically. “What was that for?”

You shake your head, indicating that you know your reasons are silly. “Because I wanted to,” you tell him truthfully. “Because I like you, and I missed you today, and….”

And you’re everything good.

“And I’m just… happy to be with you,” you finish lamely, nibbling with your bottom lip, a nervous habit.

He slides one hand down your arm and takes your hand. His smile softens from something teasing into something sweet, those dimples winking at you.

“Well,” he says, looking up at you, “speaking of how much you like me… you don’t have class on Friday, right? What about work?”

Friday is a day off at the university - some kind of training day for staff.

“Nope,” you say. “Kris is on, not me. Why, what’s happening?”

Namjoon’s hand goes to the back of his neck. “I, uh,” he says, a little bashfully, “I wanted to take you out. Like, for the day. On a date. I had some ideas.”

You press your lips together, trying to fight back the smile that’s breaking across your face.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice coming out small. “That sounds really nice. On Friday?”

“Mhm,” he says, his smile growing cockier now that you’ve said yes. “Wear comfortable shoes. And something warm - it’s supposed to snow a little.”

You’re still practically fighting the pleased smile off your face with a broom. “Okay, I will,” you tell him. You feel like you need to get out of there so you can squeal and hop around and maybe text Kris. “I’m gonna go change. Come hang out if you want?”

You tap his wall twice in goodbye and head to your room, closing the door while you change into sweatpants and a hoodie. You’re aware that he’s seen you naked now, but it still feels necessary. You text Kris as you change, and they send you back a row of exclamation points and a “#TeamDimples!”. You send them back an eye-roll and head to the living room couch.

–

[5:22 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: i’m going into the city friday to do some holiday shopping [5:22 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: you in? [5:23 PM] You: i have plans already :( i’m sorry [5:25 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: we could come back early [5:26 PM] You: my thing’s all day :( [5:29 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: ok [5:30 PM] You: sorry tete :( [5:34 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: it’s fine. dinner tonight? [5:35 PM] You: only if i dont have to walk my ass back to campus… [5:37 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: youre such a complainer 🙄 [5:37 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: i’ll pick you up

You chew on your pinky nail, staring at your phone screen. Do you need to see if Namjoon has dinner plans? Do you need his permission to go eat with Taehyung?

You don’t know the rules to this middle-ground you’re in.

But in light of everything you figured out today, you err on the safe side.

Namjoon’s in the kitchen, opening a beer by the sound of it. When he wanders back through the living room, you catch his eye.

“What’s wrong?” he asks immediately. You must look worried.

“Is it… um… Taehyung wants to grab dinner on campus. Are you - can - ?”

Understanding dawns on Namjoon’s face, and he comes over, sitting on the couch next to you and setting his beer on the coffee table.

“You don’t need to ask me before you spend time with your friends,” he says seriously. “Even that friend. You said you’re in this… so, I trust you.”

It’s such a simple thing, but it almost chokes you up. “Okay,” you whisper, so your voice won’t break. “And you’ll be okay? You can order or something?”

“I fed myself for years before we lived together,” he reminds you gently.

“Yeah, okay,” you say, feeling a little foolish. “So, I’ll see you after dinner?”

He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be here,” he promises.

–

At dinner, surrounded by noisy groups of other students, you and Taehyung each pick at your plates, chatting in between bites.

Finally, as you scrape some sauce absently around your plate, he shoots you a baleful look. “I’ve really missed you lately,” he says, voice low.

Your stomach sinks. “I’ve been here, Taehyung,” you protest. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

“I know,” he says. “I know that. It just feels like we don’t talk as much anymore.”

You twist your lips to the side. There’s truth to what he’s saying, and you know it.

“If you want to talk to me, talk to me,” you insist. “Nothing’s different.”

He looks at you flatly. “You know that isn’t true.”

“I love you, Tete,” you tell him, and it’s the first time you’ve said it to him without feeling like you’re hiding layers, slipping secrets between the vowels. “I’m right here. I promise.”

He purses his lips, looks away from you. “What’s new with you?” he asks, finally. He must have been thinking about how little he’s asked you that, over the past few months, how happy he was to let you exist just outside his orbit. “Have you heard from Lin lately?”

You fill him in on what you can - Lin, Kris and the bookstore, even finally telling him a bit about your thesis work on St. Vincent Millay’s anthology. He tells you about a fight he had with Jimin, about how he almost failed a required biology class this semester, how his mom had the flu last week but is doing better now.

He doesn’t mention dating, so neither do you.

The guilt eats at you all night long, even after you’ve gone to bed. You lay in the dark, your stomach hurting with it.

You’re not sure if you feel bad because you and Taehyung aren’t supposed to keep secrets, or if it’s because you know you’ve done Namjoon wrong by keeping quiet.

Both, you decide sometime around two in the morning. You text Namjoon, “are you asleep?” He answers almost immediately, “almost. you ok?”

You brace yourself and send, “can i come over there?”

When he sends back, “please do” you grab your phone charger and make your way across the dark living room, lit only by the streetlights outside. You make your way into Namjoon’s room, into his bed, into his embrace. You fall asleep between his arms, feeling entirely like the least deserving person alive.

Friday December 7th

You follow Namjoon’s directions on Friday, wearing something warm, and sneakers. But when you head for the kitchen in the morning - he’d told you to be ready early - there’s no Namjoon in sight.

“Namjoon?” you call through the quiet apartment. “Hello?”

There’s no answer. You pull out your phone, ready to text him, when you hear footsteps and then the jangle of keys outside the front door.

Namjoon comes in sideways, shouldering the door open, a tray with two coffees in his hand.

“I tried to get back before you were up,” he says sheepishly.

“We have coffee here,” you say in answer, trying to catch up to whatever is going on.

He gives you a mischievous smile. “We have a train to catch. We needed them to be to-go. You ready?”

It’s cold out; you’re immediately glad for your big puffy coat and the scarf around your neck. You walk with your hot coffee in one hand and Namjoon’s hand in your other. The walk to the train station is only minutes, and soon you’re standing on the platform, peering in the direction that the train should come in from. When the wind picks up, you scoot closer to Namjoon, scavenging for body heat. He smiles down at you and gives your hand a squeeze.

When the train rushes in and the doors slide open, Namjoon lets you go first as you step out of the cold and head down the corridor, looking for two empty seats. You find one in the second car you walk through, and you slide over to the window seat. You both settle in, rearranging heavy coats and coffee cups.

“How long are we on for?” you ask Namjoon. He’s refused to tell you anything about the day, wanting it to all be a surprise.

“Around half an hour,” he tells you, and offers you an earpod. Quiet beats fill your ear as the train starts to move, buildings rushing past faster and faster until they give way to the browns and greens of less urban areas.

Namjoon taps your thigh when your stop comes, and you slide out and follow him towards the doors and back into the sharp, December air.

“Where are we?” you ask, as the train pulls away. Namjoon waves a hand at the train station’s sign, which reads the name of a quiet town west of your university. You’ve never been here before, but you know of it.

Namjoon leads you by the hand away from the train station and towards town. You spend the morning ducking in and out of little niche shops, a few art galleries, and one extremely cluttered antique store just for the hell of it. You talk the whole time - pointing out funny items, telling stories when something sparks a memory, joking and laughing quietly.

Around lunchtime, you stop on the sidewalk. Snow flurries drift down around you; not enough to stick, just enough to get caught in hair and eyelashes.

“What do you feel like eating?” he asks you, blowing on his fingers to warm them. “There are actually a lot of decent options along here.”

“Somewhere warm,” you joke, and he gives you an indulgent smile. Then he wraps an arm around your shoulders as you continue up the street, reading a few menus until you settle on a little cafe. You share a hot meal, watching the snow fall lazily outside.

“What else do you have planned?” you ask curiously, as you finish up eating.

“One more stop,” he says. “It’s the piece de resistance of the day.”

“Ooh,” you say, eyes wide. “Can’t wait.”

Namjoon pays and you zip yourselves back into your coats, heading back into the snow. He leads you, to your surprise, off the main strip and down a narrow side-street. A weathered sign swings in the winter wind, the paint so chipped and peeled that you can’t read it anymore.

He pulls the door open and holds it for you as you step through the threshold of the most beautiful antique bookstore you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, my gosh,” you whisper, reverent, eyes scanning the walls of shelves, the tables, the stuffed armchairs.

“I know you love books as much as I do,” Namjoon’s low voice says, close to your ear. “I wasn’t sure if you love old books as much as I do.”

“I do,” you breathe, running a hand just above the covers of the displayed novels to your right.

You walk together through the display tables, deeper into the belly of the shop. The register is currently unmanned, a little bell on the counter meant to summon whoever operates it.

“I have an idea,” you say to Namjoon, looking over your shoulder to smile up at him. “Let’s play a game?”

One of his eyebrows jumps. “What kind of game?”

A giggle erupts from you, and you try to stifle it. “Not that kind. Let’s shop alone. I’ll pick out three for you, you pick out three for me. Then we can meet back here in… twenty minutes? Or so? Then we can swap.”

Namjoon’s smile is open and wide, practically taking up his whole face. “I like it. Twenty minutes? I’ll set a timer on my phone.”

You go in separate directions as you browse. At one point you have six books in your arms, and you stop and set them down, examining their spines for which you should keep and which you should put back. The smell of old pages permeates the air, along with something Christmas-y - pine, maybe a touch of peppermint. You make your way further into the store, climbing a set of open, metal stairs that lead to a balcony of sorts, with more shelves at the top.

You can see Namjoon down below, crouching next to a shelf, his finger tracing the spines of the books on the bottom shelf, clearly looking for something specific. You smile softly, watching him. Then you bustle on to the next section you’re interested in.

When your phone buzzes in your pocket that your twenty minutes are up, you make your way back down to the spot you’d chosen to meet back up. You hold the books behind your back, smiling.

He does the same. “Trade on three?” he asks. “One… two… three!”

You hand him the stack and he hands his books over to you. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you read the titles. You’d both done the same thing without knowing - one fiction, one non-fiction, one poetry.

“I think we spend too much time together,” Namjoon jokes, faking solemnity.

“Agreed,” you say, grinning up at him. “What do you say we buy what we want to buy and go across to that coffee shop to read?” You point out the window, eyeing the coffee shop across the street.

“I like this plan,” he tells you happily, and takes your hand to lead you to the register.

The coffee shop is a good choice - it’s got a fireplace on one wall, and you and Namjoon manage to score a small table not too far from the circle of warmth. Just as he had on the train, he hands you an earpod, and you spend several hours easily - chatting some, reading, watching the snow out the window.

You haven’t felt this at peace, this understood by somebody, perhaps ever in your life.

It gets dark early, making it feel late at night when it’s still early evening. Namjoon holds you close as you walk back down main street, back in the direction of the train station. Halfway down the block he stops, looking down at you, something warm in his gaze.

“What?” you ask. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He doesn’t answer, just leans down to kiss you sweetly, his thumb stroking your jaw whisper-soft.

You’re sleepy the second you sit down on the train. You lean against Namjoon’s shoulder, eyes heavy. You’re not sure if you actually drift off or not, when Namjoon gasps beside you.

“What?” you ask, sitting back up. He looks back at you, eyes wide, clearly horrified. “What? What happened?”

“I’m so sorry,” he blurts out, eyes flashing to his phone and then back to you. The panic in his voice is evident. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” you repeat, feeling your own nerves start to tingle.

“I texted the wrong group chat…” he says quietly, still sounding horrified. “Fuck, I’m so fucking stupid. I’m so sorry. I thought it was the one with only Yoongi and Hobi…”

He turns his screen to show you. The groupchat is clearly the one with all the guys, the bubbles at the top numerous.

[6:02 PM] Hoseok: Namjoon you’ve been quiet all day

[6:03 PM] Hoseok: what’s the story?

[6:05 PM] Namjoon: took y/n on a date today to that antique bookstore 😊

[6:09 PM] Seokjin: wait….. taehyung’s y/n?

[6:09 PM] Jungkook: OOP-

Your stomach sinks. “Oh, my god,” you say, eyes on his phone screen.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, sounding pained.

“No, it’s okay,” you say automatically, even though it probably isn’t. You take a deep breath, rub a hand over your face. “He was going to find out eventually. And, honestly, I didn’t want it to be a secret forever, you know? This isn’t… this is real, it’s not a stupid friends-with-benefits thing, it deserves to… be.”

You trail off, not sure what you mean, but Namjoon leans forward, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close.

“I’m still sorry,” he murmurs into your hair.

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “It really is.”

On your lap, your phone buzzes.

[6:12 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: wow.

Sunday December 9th

You try for two days to get Taehyung to answer you. He ignores text after text, call after call.

On the first day, you feel terrible. You’re sure he’s feeling betrayed, confused, hurt.

By the second day, you’re pissed.

[9:57 PM] You: taehyung, please talk to me

[11:08 PM] You: tete. please?

[12:33 AM] You: seriously, can you answer?

[9:41 AM] You: morning. Can we talk today please?

[2:12 PM] You: the silent treatment’s getting old. Pick up.

[5:57 PM] You: i’d LIKE to apologize to you in person but its kind of hard when you’re ignoring me!!!

[8:49 PM] You: fine, i’ll do it this way [8:54 PM] You: i’m sorry i didn’t tell you. I’m sorry you found out that way. [8:56 PM] You: for what it’s worth, we aren’t like…… officially official or anything [8:57 PM] You: it’s been heading that way, yeah, but…. not yet [8:59 PM] You: i think… telling you would have made it realer, and i didn’t know if it was real enough for that yet [9:03 PM] You: and if i’m being honest… i didn’t know how to tell you

[9:32 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: can i come over

Relief floods through you so heavy that you exhale everything inside you, eyes closing, head sagging towards your chest, the hand holding your phone going limp. Namjoon looks over at you from his side of the couch.

“He answered?” he asks.

“He’s coming over,” you confirm, typing in an answer to Taehyung. “You don’t mind, right? I owe him some answers.”

“No,” he says evenly. “I don’t mind. Do you want me to… I mean, I’m just thinking of when I talked with Elyse. Would me being there… help? Or make it worse?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “It’d help me tremendously,” you admit. “But I think it’d make it worse for him. Thank you, though. I appreciate the thought.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, and reaches out to give your hand a squeeze. “Well, you know where to find me.”

Outside, the December night is cold, but dry, the air tickling your throat on its way to and from your lungs.

“Listen,” you say softly. You and Taehyung are sitting side by side, a foot apart, on the stairs in front of your apartment. The stone step feels like a slab of absolute ice underneath you, but you can’t care about that right now. “I’m sorry it happened like this. I was trying… I was trying not to let anything change between us.”

Taehyung doesn’t answer, just stares at the road. From the side, you can see the tightness in his face, the clench of his jaw, the movement of his throat as he swallows. You’ve known him almost your whole life. You can read him like a book.

He’s hurting.

He’s trying to pretend he’s not.

“I mean,” you continue, your heart aching, “you never tell me about your girls.”

“That’s different,” he croaks.

“How?” you ask softly. “How is this different?”

“I wasn’t actually dating any of them,” he says.

It’s not the whole reason, and you both know it.

“So, what is this?” he asks. “Is he your boyfriend now?” He positively sneers the word.

This stops you. You don’t know how to answer. Technically, no. But essentially… yes. You just hadn’t talked it through yet. “He… I…”

Taehyung stands suddenly, shoves his hands in his pockets, paces to the curb and back. “Well?” he demands, facing you. The hurt is practically dropping from him, and you’re reeling to fight the instinct to make it better, reeling trying to determine at lightning speed if you’ve actually done something wrong.

“Not technically,” you whisper.

He stands there, surrounded by the dark, staring you down, his face more serious than you’ve ever seen it. You stand too, taking a few steps to stop before him.

“What does this mean for us?” Taehyung asks. His voice breaks on ‘us’. “What are we now?”

You reach out, fingers skimming along his arm, wanting to comfort. “Taehyung, it doesn’t mean anything for us. We’ll be the same as we’ve always been.”

You watch it cross his face as he decides to make you prove it, but you don’t have enough time to react before he’s doing the thing you’d day-dreamed of time after time after time - before you knew Namjoon. He’s closing the gap between you, his hand curling in the fabric of your jacket, his lips finding yours, searching for something that three months ago he probably would have found.

–

Upstairs, Namjoon can’t let go of the uneasy feeling in his stomach. He can’t get that day with Elyse out of his head - how his eyes had found yours and he’d felt steady, had literally felt the fist of anxiety loosen on his lungs. What if you needed him out there? Finally, he can’t take it anymore. He crosses the living room and peeks out the window, just to gauge how it’s going - he’s sure he can read your expression or your body language enough to tell if you’re okay or not.

He leans over, looking out, and the blood in his arms and legs turns in an instant to ice.

Outside on the sidewalk, you’re kissing Taehyung. His dark hair hangs over your face, where one of his hands rests. Your bodies are impossibly close together, seeming to meld into one in the shadows.

He stumbles away from the window, trying to get away from it, but the image burns in his brain. He makes his way blindly back towards his bedroom. His heart pounds, and he finds himself nauseous, his eyes suddenly burning like he’s walked through smoke.

“Fuck,” he hisses, punching his doorframe. Then he slams his door shut, and locks it for good measure.

He should’ve known, he thinks. He should’ve seen this coming from day one.

Elyse had made him feel stupid, yeah.

But it was nothing like this.

<- Prev || Next ->

I'M GOING INTO HIDING BYE!!!!!!! <3

love y'all thanks for reading!!!

360 notes · View notes

loakstahni · 3 months

Text

Na'Vi? More like puppy.

Warnings⚠; smut, fuff, piv sex, unprotected sex, fingering, object use (reader gets fucked with highlighters), Virgin!reader, size difference (reader is 7'0 and teyam is 9'2), tail pulling, bit of kuru pulling, couch sex, best friends to lovers, modern au!

A/N; this is a collab with my mootie and bestie @quicktosimp, go give her all the love! She is the best and I am extremely thankful to have worked with her💕

Word count; 6'434👀

Modern!aged up! Neteyam x fem!snow na'vi reader!

It was around mid-afternoon by the time Neteyam got back to the dorm houses, making sure to kick His snow-covered shoes off at the door before unlocking the door and walking inside.

His keys jingle lightly as he sets them on the table beside the door, stretching his sore arms above his head before rounding up some clean clothes. He pads into the bathroom on the other side of the dorm room and shuts the door, starting up the shower. While waiting for the water to heat up, he undressed, finding a few furs from his roommate on his jeans. He smiles fondly, shaking his head before stepping into the hot water.

Once he had rinsed his braids and washed his body, paying extra attention to his shoulders and back, he rinsed off and dried himself with his favorite white, fluffy towel. He slips into his clean clothes, a loose pair of gray sweats and a simple black turtleneck.

Neteyam wanders back out into the main room, glancing at his roommate's bed. He flops himself onto the soft mattress, seeing a few clumps of white-gray fur puff up into the air before slowly landing back on the bed. He cocks his head to the side, ears twitching in interest. He sits up, fidgeting with the soft shedded fur. Neteyam sighed softly, rubbing the soft furs between his thumb and pointer finger, wondering what more of the fur would feel like, what it would smell like.

His ears flicker towards the sound of someone outside the door; he shrugs it off as nothing before turning his attention back to the soft fur between his fingers. his tail swaying slowly behind him as he brings the soft fuzz up to his nose, inhaling gently.

It wasn’t unusual for Neteyam to be on (Y/N)’s bed; in fact, it was to be expected. So when (Y/N) walked through the door, shaking the excessive snow stuck to her fur off, she knew to go straight to her bed. Pouncing on Neteyam into a hug.

“Hey Teyam! How was practice?” she chirped, rubbing her wet furn into his clothes.

A soft grunt leaves Neteyam as his hyper roommate lands on his back. He chuckles, slightly turning his head back to catch a glimpse of her fluffy face. “It was fine, a little more than normal, but fine.” he replied calmly, smiling gently.

(Y/N)’s face lit up, “I heard they were going to be working you guys harder! Since you’re supposed to be going against another school soon!” her tail waved back and forth in excitement.

“Yes, but I am sure we'll do fine in the compensation.” Neteyam hums. His skinny tail slowly started to curl around (Y/N)’s fluffy one, hoping she wouldn't notice.

“So, who are you guys going against? I know it won't be anyone from the north. None of us, Tundra or Arctic Na’vi, have used a bow before,” She questions, leaning her head onto Neteyam’s neck.

“I haven't been told who we are going against yet. but I promise you'll be the first to know.” he hums, his heartbeat picking up slightly. Trying his best to keep himself calm, the last thing He wanted was to make things awkward between him and his close friend. “What about you? anything new today, sevin?” Neteyam asks, his voice soft.

“It snowed today!” (Y/N) practically yelled, “There are also several snow banks that I was able to go play in finally! There’s nothing like jumping into the perfect snow bank!” her tail increased in speed as it wagged.

“But I wished I could join you in archery,” (Y/N) pouted a little, “Seriously! But I can’t due to my hands! Have you ever tried to use a bow covered in fur? My fur bends out the bow! And then there’s my hands! Also covered in fur!” she laminated, fully flopping onto Neteyam’s lap dramatically, covering his turtle neck in her white and grey fur.

Neteyam chuckles fondly, his golden eyes locked onto her bright blue ones. “well, you could always shave your fur off. Remember when we were young, and Lo'ak and Spider shaved your fur off with my mother’s razor?” Neteyam laughs, his shoulders shaking slightly.

(Y/N) looked up at Neteyam with wide eyes, absolutely horrified, “Nope! Natta! Not happening again! I looked like a naked pa’li! Do you also remember how long it took to grow back? Or how long it took to clean up all the fur?”

Neteyam bites his lower lip slightly, holding back his laugh. “Yes, but a very cute naked pa’li.” He teases, ruffling her fluffy white hair.

“I wasn’t sure who was the most angry, my parents, ‘cause I got shaved or Tiri, 'cause we used all her razors,” she cocked her head to the side, leaning into Neteyam’s hand, “We also broke your dads.”

“Ah, yes.. sa'nok was pissed.” Neteyam chuckles, gently brushing his fingers against one of (Y/N)’s fluffy ears. Neteyam hooks his arms around (Y/N)’s tiny waist, standing up without a struggle and walking towards the kitchenette, setting her down on the sofa while grabbing water for himself and her before plopping down next to her. Handing the bottle to (Y/N). “So..sevin, may I touch your fur..?” Neteyam tilts his head slightly, heat rising to his face, making his cheeks flush a dark purple.

(Y/N) sat up, straddling Neteyam’s lap, “Sure, Teyam! I’ve missed having someone play with my fur!” her tail was back to wagging happily as she removed her top. Thick fur covers the expanse of her body, leaving everything hidden from sight.

Neteyam’s ears drooped slightly; the tips flushed red. “I..” his face flushed a brighter shade of purple. He forces himself to not look at (Y/N)’s chest; even if the fur hid her breasts, it still didn't feel right to look.

“I’ve missed having grooming days! Because of all the fur, we would help each other as a family! I’m really happy you asked Teyam!” (Y/N)’s smile was blinding as she spoke almost faster than her mouth could cooperate.

Neteyam nods slightly, moving a hand up and lightly running his fingers through the fur on her neck. His tail thumps against the couch as he brushes his fingers through the soft fur.

(Y/N) giggles lightly, “You’re gonna have to go harder than that, Teyam. I can’t feel anything through my fur!” she wiggles lightly.

“Do not... Say it like that...” Neteyam mumbles, scratching the skin underneath the fur on the nape of her neck. “It makes things sound weird..” he huffs, glancing at (Y/N)’s face.

“Like what? Why would that be weird?” (Y/N) mutters as she leans into Neteyam’s touch; a gentle purr starts to rumble through her from his touch.

“Never mind.” Neteyam shakes his head slightly, shiny braids swinging slightly. His eyes glance down at the swell of her breasts, covered by the fur but still visible. He forces his gaze away from her chest, looking at the wall behind her. His hand moves towards the top of (Y/N)’s neck, scratching gently.

(Y/N)’s purrs increase as Neteyam continues to scratch at her neck. She leans back more into his touch, wanting more, trusting him to hold her up. The thoughts from before had vanished.

Neteyam’s other hand held her up, keeping it flat on the small of (Y/N)’s back, his thumb brushing against the base of her fluffy tail. Neteyam leaned his head back against the couch, sighing softly to keep himself relaxed.

The brush against (Y/N)’s tail shot sparks through her body. Her eyes dilated as a held-back choked moan, not understanding the sensations, “Teyam?” she asked softly.

Neteyam’s ears perked straight up, his golden eyes flying open as he stared at her in disbelief. “I.. What’d I do..?” he sits up, moving his hands away from her body. Afraid he touched her too hard or pulled her fur without noticing.

(Y/N) was upset by the lack of touch now; even if she didn’t understand it, she liked it. “My tail Teyam. You pet my tail. I liked that?” It came out as more of a question as she wiggled impatiently.

“O-oh.. Right.. Sorry.” Neteyam mumbles, placing his hands around her small hips, slipping them around towards her tail, stroking the fur at the base while running his other hand along the length of her tail. “I thought I hurt you, sorry.

(Y/N) fell forward, rubbed her face into Neteyam’s neck, “Teyam.. Teyam!” she cried from the shocking pleasure, her tail lifting higher along her back.

Neteyam’s eyes widened, His pupils dilating. “Easy, sevin.. I got you..” Neteyam whispers, wrapping an arm around her while stroking the length of her tail. He felt heat start to pool in His lower belly, making his body feel hot.

“Teyam, it feels good?” she whines as she starts to rock her hips with Neteyam’s hand.

“I can tell..” Neteyam drops his face into (Y/N)’s neck, breathing her scent in deeply. The arm supporting her moved to hook behind her rear, squeezing her ass gently. “You smell... So much better than I thought..” He mumbles out, lightly tugging her tail. He felt dizzy off her scent, her pheromones driving him bonkers.

Deep in (Y/N)’s core, she felt something tighten, not understanding what it was, but warmth flooded between her legs, something she’d never felt before, “Teyam, what is it? I like it!” She whined, sniffing at Neteyam’s neck, liking the new scent she smelt from him.

“Not sure yet,” Neteyam hums, bringing his hand away from her tail for a moment. he cups (Y/N)’s chin, tilting her head slightly before leaning in and connecting his lips with hers.

Neteyam’s lips muffled the whine from when He let go of her tail. But (Y/N) was soon distracted by his lips, slotting her against his properly, as she reached around, threading her fingers into Neteyam’s hair.

The groan Neteyam let out was deep and rough, full of need. His eyes fluttered shut as He pressed his lips firmly against hers while his hand left her chin, slipping down to brush the longer parts of fur away from her breasts, exposing the soft, little globs of flush, covered in fur as well.

(Y/N) broke away, panting heavily, “What are you doing with my breasts, Teyam?” She asks, confused but trustingly, As the tight feeling from before loosened.

“You'll like it, I promise..” Neteyam said softly, cupping one of her breasts in his palms, gently brushing his thumb over her nipple before leaning his head down. He lightly licks his rough tongue over the little nub, sucking lightly while his other hand kneads at her right breast.

A shocked moan leaves (Y/N)’s lips as she pulls Neteyam closer. (Y/N) sat on Neteyam’s lap fully, as she enjoyed his touch, pulling on his braids. “I like it, Teyam,” She admits quietly, embarrassed as no one had seen her breasts before.

Neteyam hums in contentment, his tail wagging against the sofa. He lifts his head up slightly, pulling his turtleneck over his head and throwing it somewhere off the couch. He leans his head up, nibbling at her jaw before grabbing her tail again. “I've liked you for a while; you have no idea how happy you're making me right now..” he huffs, his voice low.

The moment Neteyam’s fingers touched her tail, (Y/N)’s tail flew up flush with her back as she pushed her hips back. In (Y/N)’s haze, she recognized His words; her heart sped up faster, this time from happiness, “Yes, Teyam, I’ve always loved you,” She admitted, rubbing her cheek into Neteyam’s neck: the glee and unfamiliar touch battling for dominance.

Neteyam gently moves around, carefully laying (Y/N)’s smaller body down onto the sofa. He bends over her body, gently nibbling at her right ear before he moves down, kissing her neck, even if it was just her fur he was kissing. Neteyam’s skinny tail curled around her fluffy thigh, both his hands placed on her hips.

“Teyam! You stopped again!” (Y/N) whined, disliking the lack of touch on her tail. The warmth between her legs was receding once again. In retaliation, she grabbed Neteyam’s tail, gently tugging it while flicking at the soft tip.

Neteyam’s hips involuntarily buck against her as she grabs his tail, his head drops down slightly, a low moan falling from his lips. “Sorry, syulang..” Neteyam mumbles out, sitting back on his knees, gently tugging at her tail again before gently sliding his hands along her legs, gently hooking thumbs underneath the waistband of her pants.

(Y/N) sat up, lifting her hips for Neteyam. As she settled down, her back was to the main part of the couch, and Neteyam was kneeling between her legs; if it weren't for her thick fur, she would be a blushing red mess. “Teyam, I’ve never played down there before…” (Y/N) whispered nervously.

Neteyam's ears perk up, and he nods lightly, gently tugging her pants off her legs. “You've never touched yourself...?” He asks with a head tilt. He glances down at her thighs, spotting her light blue panties. “Why not..? If you don't mind me asking.” Neteyam asks once more.

She looked away, unable to meet his eyes, “Too much fur. Every time I’ve tried, I can’t find anything…”

“We'll fix that now, won't we...?” Neteyam gently lifts her hips upwards, pulling her panties down and setting them on the floor. His mouth fills with drool as he gently parts her legs open, having a hard time seeing her slit until he parts some fur out of the way; finding her tight, little slit, and little nub. “Found it, syulang.” He hums.

(Y/N) shifts as she feels Neteyam’s eyes on her open slit. Her core dripping from his attention, “How do you play with it?” Her voice was meek as She watched Neteyam.

Neteyam gently guides one of her hands down, placing her middle and pointer fingers over her own clit. “Feel that..? Rub it slowly,” Neteyam said with a gentle smile, patting her inner thigh.

Uncertain (Y/N) does as Neteyam says, rubbing Her fingers over Her clit, (Y/N)’s throws her head back as she moans unashamed. Her fur became wet from the amount of slick She was producing, rolling her hips into the touch.

“There you go, keep touching yourself; I gotta open you up,” Neteyam said, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead before gently gathering the slick at (Y/N)’s entrance, coating his middle finger before carefully easing just half of his finger in, feeling just how tiny and tight she was.

(Y/N)’s legs closed as she winced, “Teyam, it burns,” fire flowed through her cunt, as Neteyam’s finger tried to make its way inside.

Neteyam pulls his finger out of her, looking down at her little cunt. “I'm sorry, love.” He said gently, sitting up as he glanced around slightly. Reaching towards the highlighter on the coffee table before glancing back at (Y/N).

Spotting what Neteyam was looking at (Y/N) became confused, “My highlighters? What do you need those for?”

“If my fingers are too big for you, maybe this is small enough..?” Neteyam said, bringing one highlighter up to his mouth slicking it up with his spit.

As Neteyam covered the highlighter in his spit, he used his other hand to gently spread (Y/N)’s legs apart again, giving him room to work. Once the highlighter was slick enough for Neteyam, he slowly brought it to (Y/N)’s slit, feeling the end up and down, pressing over her clit before gently sliding it in. The highlighter slipped in much easier than his finger did, so he slowly slid it in and out.

Neteyam’s eyes were locked on (Y/N)’s face, watching for any signs of discomfort or pain. He made sure he was gentle, sliding the highlighter in and out of her tiny slit carefully.

The highlighter was painless, but (Y/N) was unused to the sensation of being filled by anything, her brows furrowed in confusion. Recognizing her expression, Neteyam brought his other hand to her clit, his thumb slowly rubbing circles in time with the highlighter.

A gasp leaves (Y/N)’s mouth as she’s assaulted by the simulations.

Neteyam’s thumb rubs her clit more, working on thrusting the highlighter in and out of her more. Still being careful not to hurt her. “Does it feel good...?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes,” (Y/N) moaned, starting to enjoy the sensations more.

Noticing that (Y/N) was taking the highlighter well, Neteyam let go of the highlighter inside her, leaving it there before turning to grab two more.

Neteyam turns back towards her, slicking up a second highlighter before carefully pushing it inside alongside the first one.

“Oh!” (Y/N) exclaimed, surprised by the new addition. The second marker caused more of a stretch, pleasantly filling her more. She lifted herself up onto her elbows, looking down at Neteyam, “How many more are there?” She asks, as her slit throbs.

“One more, syulang. Then I think you can take my fingers... And maybe then my cock..?” Neteyam teases, sliding both highlighters in and out of her little cunt. His tail curls around his fuzzy ankle, the fluffy tip brushing against her foot.

In Neteyam’s hand, only the green highlighter was left, meaning the pink and yellow ones were inside her. (Y/N) clenched around them as she watched them slide in and out of her. “Your cock? I haven’t seen one before,” her face flushed as Neteyam angled the markers into her g-spot. Her toes flexed, and her legs shook.

“You will like it once you see it,” Neteyam promises, his ears swiveling forward as he takes note of her sudden change in body language. “You gonna cum for me? Huh, sevin syulang?” He hums, starting to push the green highlighter inside her along with the pink and yellow one.

The sight was lewd; even though the highlighters were thin, the three of them out together in her tiny cunt was obscene. Each of them pulled her entrance taunt, as the bright colors couldn’t be missed. It was like a target right for her weeping cunt.

“Cum? What do you mean cum?” Her voice rose in pitch as something in her belly tightened again, stronger than before.

Neteyam chuckles gently, rubbing her clit a bit harder. “Deep breath, you're doing a great job. Let it happen.” Neteyam coos, leaning over and pressing his forehead against hers.

She shook her head from side to side as she continuously clenched around the highlighters, the coil tightening with nowhere to go, “Teyam! It’s getting stronger! I don’t know what it is! Teyam! Teyam!” She screamed her release as the coil snapped. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her as she continued to shout her release. Slick gushing from her cunt and over the couch and Neteyam.

“Good job… there you go, sweet girl..” Neteyam coos, pressing a few tender kisses to (Y/N)’s forehead. He carefully pulls the highlighters out of her, his ears twitching at the squelching sound.

(Y/N) flinched from the additional pleasure, as she had already cum once, her bleary eyes tried to focus on Neteyam, watching as he placed the highlighters into his mouth, sucking her slick off of them.

“Teyam? What are you doing? That’s gross!” (Y/N) tiredly exclaimed.

“It's not gross, it's delicious..” He smirks, tossing the highlighters off the couch before sitting back on his knees. He places his hand on her thigh, parting her legs a bit more before prodding at her soaked entrance with two of his fingers.

“How can that be delicious? It was inside- Oh fuck!” (Y/N)’s thoughts were cut off as Neteyam slipped two fingers inside her. Wiggling them around, feeling her gummy walls.

(Y/N) tried to close her legs from the oversensitivity, only succeeding in trapping Neteyam’s face between her legs.

Neteyam sits up a bit, spreading her legs open again. “Shhh.. I know, relax. I got you, syulang..” Neteyam soothes, hooking his two fingers upwards before scissoring his fingers apart.

(Y/N)’s eyes screwed shut as Neteyam continued on. Her pussy had never been stretched that far before, let alone feel the pleasures that Neteyam brings her. Each curl and spread of his fingers caused her to shake even more as she writhed in place. Unable to move out of Neteyam’s grip.

Neteyam gently kisses the tip of (Y/N)’s nose, pushing his fingers until they hit the last knuckle. “Look at how well you're doing, little one..” He coos against her ear.

“Teyam, it’s too much! It’s so big!” Tears sprung in her eyes, one slowly trailing down her face.

The same coil from before was tightening again, and she didn’t know if she could take it.

“No, no, no... It's ok..” Neteyam gently cups the side of (Y/N)’s face, gently pulling his fingers out of her slit.

(Y/N) can’t stop the whine as his fingers left her slit; as much as it overwhelmed her, she couldn’t help but be disappointed about the emptiness. Another whine leaves her, this one more frustrated as it seems like she couldn’t figure out what she wants or needs.

“Do you want me to keep going, syulang..?” Neteyam asks gently, cupping her cheek gently.

“Yes? No? I don’t know, Teyam!” Her words were sharp from her frustration, but there was something she did know she wanted, “Kiss me? Please?” She asked him softly.

“Of course, sweet syulang..” Neteyam leans down, pressing a soft and tender kiss to her lips. Gently rubbing her inner thigh.

(Y/N) gently reached up and cupped his face as she leaned into the kiss. The gentle kiss comforted her, leaving her feeling protected. Feeling bold, she remembers reading something once about kissing. Hesitantly, she bites Neteyam’s bottom lip gently before letting go.

Neteyam groans softly, nibbling on her bottom lip before slipping his tongue into her mouth, his tongue wiggling around with hers.

A soft sigh leaves her nose as their tongues intertwine, their breaths synchronizing together as they parted briefly, only to rejoin each other. (Y/N) was unfamiliar with the taste on Neteyam’s tongue, not realizing that it was her own slick she was tasting.

Neteyam breaks the kiss, tipping her chin upwards and biting on her neck gently. “Do you want me to touch you again..?” He asks gently.

Much calmer this time, (Y/N) notices that the overwhelming pleasure has died down to a steady thrum instead of the electric shocks flowing through her, “Yes, please.”

Neteyam gently brushes his finger against her clit before slipping one finger inside her entrance, curling it upwards.

This moan was softer and deeper; this time, the feeling was expected. Letting her enjoy the feelings more, but it still left an ache. The need to be filled more.

Neteyam gently pushes a second finger inside her, being a lot slower and gentler now. “Does that feel good...?” He coos gently, rubbing his cheek against (Y/N)’s.

“Yes, Teyam. It feels good!” Her whines were sweet as she leaned up and licked the shell of Neteyam’s ear, gently biting down and pulling on it before letting go and nipping at his neck.

“Good girl…” Neteyam praised, slowly scissoring his two fingers apart. “You're so tight and wet for me…” He purrs, nuzzling her cheek.

Even after being stretched from before, Neteyam could barely comprehend how tight she was as her walls gripped at his finger, trying to suck them in deeper.

“I’m doing good, Teyam?” Her bright blue eyes searched for his, wide and begging.

“Yes.. You're doing so well, ma syulang..” Neteyam purrs, gently stroking his fingers along her inner walls.

(Y/N) tightens around Neteyam’s fingers as his words bring warmth to her slit; she wiggles happily, even as the coil slowly builds.

“Do you think you can handle a third finger?” Neteyam asks gently, nuzzling his cat-like nose into her neck. His fingers steadily pumping in and out of her soaked pussy.

Nervously (Y/N) nods; each of Neteyam’s fingers were thick and strong from years of archery practice, and she wonders if another one will fit.

“Deep breaths,” Neteyam hums, gently pressing his third finger against her already stretched opening. Neteyam carefully pushes his last finger inside her, gently curling it upwards.

“Oh fuck, Teyam!” (Y/N) yipped, the stretch slightly burned, making the pleasure all the more intense.

“Yeah.. Tell me how much you like it, syulang. Let me hear you..” Neteyam purrs, nipping gently on the tip of her left ear, all three of his fingers pumping in and out of her steadily.

“It’s good! It feels so big, Teyam!” (Y/N) whined as the pleasure started to cover the burning pain.

“Good girl..” Neteyam coos, peppering kisses all over (Y/N)’s face and down her neck. Gently brushing his thumb over her clit.

(Y/N) jumped at her clit being played with, electric-like pleasure shooting through her body, “Teyam!” She cried as her legs started to shake.

Neteyam curls his three fingers upwards, brushing them over her sensitive inner walls. Increasing the pressure on (Y/N)’s clit as well. “You gonna cum for me, huh, little one?” Neteyam cocks his head to the side, his braids falling over his shoulders.

“Y-yes,” (Y/N) threw her head back as her walls started to milk Neteyam’s fingers, eagerly chasing the sensations.

Neteyam hums, pumping his fingers in and out of (Y/N)’s tiny cunt, gently tugging her tail with his free hand, wanting to help pull her over the edge quicker.

“Ah-ah-ahhhhh!” (Y/N) screamed her release, her slick gushing out of her tiny hole, the pleasure of her pussy being played with, and the teasing of her tail too much.

(Y/N) continues to roll her hips, chasing the lingering feeling.

“There we go.. good girl, yawne.” Neteyam slowly pulls his fingers from her cunt, licking her arousal from his fingers before he leans up and presses his lips against hers, swiping his tongue against hers. Allowing (Y/N) to taste her own arousal.

(Y/N) couldn’t stop the moan that left her lips, the slight humiliation from tasting herself on Neteyam’s tongue building her arousal all over again. Slowly (Y/N) wrapped her legs around Neteyam’s waist, pulling him closer to her slit.

Neteyam chuckles gently against her lips; he pulls back slightly, tugging his sweatpants down his thighs and throwing them on the floor, his boxers following soon after. His protective slit was dripping pre already, the tip of his cock peeking out from inside. “You sure you can handle my osìn, yawne?” He cocks his head to the side, golden eyes blown wide with lust.

(Y/N) looked at his slit, seeing just the head peeking out, it was bulbous, and next to her hole, it was obscene, “I want it, Teyam,” She whispered, unsure if she could actually take it.

“Wanna help me out first, then, love?” Neteyam hums gently, taking one of her smaller hands in his own and guiding it down to his slit.

(Y/N) nods her head as she gently touches his slit; it is warm to the touch and easily parted for her fingers, making more room for his cock to slip out. Her fingers traveled lower, brushing against the tip of his cock, and with her small hand, she reached several fingers inside his slit, urging his dick to come out.

Neteyam’s eyes fluttered shut in bliss; he gently squeezed her thigh to ground himself. His cock slowly slipped out, already hard and dripping pre. “that's it, yawne..” He purrs.

Neteyam’s cock was long and thick in her hands; her hand couldn’t fully wrap around the girth of his cock, as it stood to attention. Hard and throbbing in her hands.

Neteyam's golden eyes fluttered open, locking on (Y/N)’s face. His eyes were lidded and full of lust. “You sure you want this, love..?” He asks gently.

“Please, Teyam, I want it,” (Y/N) whispered, ready to give Neteyam her virginity.

Neteyam nods softly, grabbing one of the couch pillows and gently setting it underneath (Y/N)’s hips. “Ok, I'll be as flrr as I can.” Neteyam mumbles, gently bending over her body, the tip of his length nudging at her clit.

Neteyam’s thick tip bumps into (Y/N) entrance, the tiny hole dwarfed by the size of his cock. A small whimper passed (Y/N)’s lips as the reality sunk in, but it didn’t stop her want or need for Neteyam.

“Shh.. I got you..” Neteyam nuzzles his nose into the side of (Y/N)’s face, a soft purr rumbling through his throat, trying his best to soothe her.

He angles his hips, lining his thick tip up with her tiny entrance before he slowly pushes forward. His tip barely fit even after all the stretching beforehand.

(Y/N) yelped as it pushed inside her, the tip resting just past her entrance, and just that was immense. The thick tip, spreading (Y/N) wider than an arctic Na’vi, is meant to take. Her tiny cunt, stretched far past its limits. (Y/N) rests a hand on Neteyam’s chest, urging him to still and wait for her.

Neteyam gently strokes the fur on (Y/N)’s thigh, pressing his forehead against hers. “You're doing so well, Yawntutsyìp..” He praises, his eyes locked on her face, watching for any more signs of pain or discomfort.

(Y/N) can’t stop herself from clenching around Neteyam’s tip, the thick head simply resting there, as her body struggled to adjust. (Y/N) was always thankful that Neteyam was such a sweet and thoughtful man.

“Slowly, Teyam,” She whispered.

“You sure..? We can wait longer...?” Neteyam lifts his head up slightly, his ears swiveled forward, and his eyes locked on (Y/N)’s.

“I’m sure… Just please be gentle,” (Y/N)’s bright blue eyes meet Neteyam’s, filled with trust.

“Ok, love..” Neteyam nodded gently; he slowly pushed his hips forward more. Slowly his hard length stretches more of (Y/N)’s little cunt open.

(Y/N) whimpers as he slides deeper into her cunt, forcing her inner walls to make room for him, shaping her to the form of his cock. From this day forth, (Y/N)’s cunt will only fit Neteyam's cock.

Neteyam pushes forwards until his pelvis is flush with (Y/N)’s, his cock resting, snuggling inside her little slit, fully bottoming out.

“Fuck Yawntutsyìp.. You're so tight for me..” he groans softly, pressing his forehead against hers again.

Neteyam’s cock came with the feeling of fullness; slight sparks of pain fluttered through (Y/N)’s pussy, but the longer he stayed inside, the more the pain faded, leaving (Y/N) feeling whole and complete.

“Big, Teyam, you’re really big,” (Y/N) moans, wrapping her arms around his neck and threading her fingers through his braids.

Neteyam groans softly, dropping his head into her shoulder. Relishing in the feeling of her tightness. “You feel so good around me, syulang..” He purrs out, holding himself still for now.

(Y/N) rhythmically squeezed Neteyam’s cock, as she adjusted to his size, “You can move now,” (Y/N) rested her head on top of Neteyam’s, holding him closer to her.

Neteyam simply nods, withdrawing his hips until half of his length remains before gently pushing forward again, building up a steady and slow pace.

Neteyam's hands held her hips gently, his face pressed into the side of her neck. (Y/N) held him close as her heels dug into the small of his back, trying to force him back in.

“Teyam, you’re inside me… it feels good,” (Y/N) moaned as he continued to thrust into her gently.

Neteyam grunts softly, continuing his slow and steady pace. Not wanting to risk hurting her at all. “Mhm.. Such a pretty girl for me..” He mumbles against (Y/N)’s fluffy neck.

(Y/N)’s tail starts to wag at the praise, all the while moaning from the pleasure; she tries to curl herself impossibly closer, wanting to touch every part of Neteyam, whining when she is unsuccessful.

“Careful, syulang..” Neteyam mumbled gently, gently laying on top of her, his chest pressed into hers even if it meant having to arch his back awkwardly.

“Ohhh,” (Y/N) purred, comforted by the touch, her chest rumbling in a purr, “More Teyam, please,” She used her feet to push on his back to urge him faster.

“I don't want to hurt you, small thing..” Neteyam mumbles, brushing his hand through her fluffy white hair. His hips still moving slowly.

“Please, Neteyam, I can take it,” (Y/N) pleaded, moving her hips, chasing the pleasure herself.

Neteyam grunts softly, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He pulls his hips back, leaving just his tip inside her stretched cunt before pushing forwards again, picking up the pace of his thrusting. Angling his hips upwards slightly, searching for (Y/N)’s sweet spot.

“Fuck!” (Y/N) cried as her pussy was taken thoroughly, her spongy insides taking the brunt of Neteyam’s thrusts, “Please, Neteyam! More!” She cried again as her legs tightened around him even more.

Neteyam groans deeply, his large hands holding onto (Y/N)’s hips. “Needy little thing..” He whispers into her ear, nibbling on the end.

Neteyam’s hips shove into hers at a slightly rougher pace, each thrust pushing his cock deep. His tip kissing (Y/N)’s cervix.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck!” (Y/n) shook her head from side to side as the pleasure overwhelmed her; her most intimate place was being ravished by Neteyam. Her cervix soon became tender from the constant pounding it was taking.

Neteyam switched between grinding his hips against hers and thrusting into her; his tail curled around (Y/n)’s fluffy tail. “You look so pretty, taking my osìn like a good girl..” He grunts out, pressing his lips against hers in a messy kiss.

(Y/N) leans into the kiss as they wrap around each other completely, their tongues meeting in the open air before their lips sealed together. They both tried to breathe through their noses, unwilling to let go of the other's lips as they moaned in tandem.

Neteyam moans against her lips, feeling heat start to bubble in his lower belly and core. He snaps his hips against (Y/n)’s, drawing lewd squelching from in between them. Neteyam’s thrusts became deeper, forcing her to take his hard length deeper until a bulge in her lower belly formed underneath her fur.

(Y/N) squirmed and whined as she takes Neteyam’s cock, a deep coil stronger than before was building. The sound of flesh meeting her fur was loud, ringing throughout the dorm room as they both near their release.

Neteyam reaches a hand down, circling his middle and pointer fingers around her little clit. “Gonna cum for me..? Huh, pretty girl..? Keep squeezing me; feels so good…” Neteyam moans into her ear, his cock starting to throb as he nears his own orgasm.

(Y/N) squealed as Neteyam played with her clit, as she spasmed around Neteyam’s length, grabbing into his braids for leverage while accidentally grabbing his kuru and pulling.

Neteyam’s body tenses up, his eyes rolling back into his head and his jaw dropping open. “F-fuck Yawntutsyìp!” He gasped sharply; the feeling of her hand grabbing his kuru and pulling sent Electric shocks up and down his spine, making his brain tingle. “Oh- fuck.. ‘M gonna cum..” He warns, his thrusting growing sloppy.

“Cum! Cum! Teyam! Cum inside me; I want your cum, please!” (Y/N) begged as her core was tight, her walls already attempting to milk his cum deep inside her.

Neteyam’s cock throbs a few times before his hips; still, he throws his head back, gripping the sofa cushion tightly as he empties himself inside her little cunt. Muttering, Na'Vi curses under his breath.

“Neteyam!” (Y/N) screams, using Neteyam kuru as a tether, bringing him into a deep kiss as she cum around his cock, Milking him, drawing his cum deeper inside her.

Neteyam’s hips jerk against hers as she grabs his kuru again, and he whines against her lips. His cock throbbed again, squirting the last of his cum inside her, some dribbling out around his cock.

(Y/N) whines, unhappy that Neteyam’s cum is leaving her slit, wanting it all inside, and also slightly irritated at the feeling of it in her fur, “Stay, Neteyam,” she asks, brushing his lips against hers, not letting him leave her.

Neteyam pants heavily, gently resting his head against hers, soothing his hand over her side. He stayed still like she asked, his body still tingling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. “Nga yawne lu oer.. My (Y/n)..” He breathes out.

“Nga yawne lu oer, Teyam,” (Y/N) whispers as she urges Neteyam to become more comfortable, having him lay on his back while she lays on top of him, never letting him leave her cunt.

Neteyam wraps his arms around her middle, tugging her closer. “Nga yawne lu oer more,” he chuckles gently, petting her back. His skinny tail curling around her fluffy one.

(Y/N) hummed in return, too sleepy to say anything, simply basking in Neteyam’s presence.

Neteyam nuzzles his nose into (Y/N)’s hairline, a deep purr rumbling in his chest, making his chest vibrate. “(Y/N)? “ he gently cups her cheek, brushing his thumb over the soft fur there.

(Y/N) hums in response, showing she was still awake but happily stated, as he leaned into Neteyam’s touch.

“Date me,” Neteyam mumbles, his ears drooping slightly at the boldness of his voice.

She looks up at him, her eyes drowsy, as a large smile covers her face, “mmmhmm,” She agrees sleepily but joyfully.

Neteyam smiles happily, nuzzling his forehead against hers, his tail slowly wagging against the sofa. He relaxes with her, starting to grow drowsy himself. “I love you..” He mumbles before drifting off, snuggled up and purring against (Y/N).

The two of them were asleep seconds after, happily resting in each other's arms.

#roomie rambles^^#simpy boo😘#avatar james cameron #avatar way of water #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #Neteyam smut #Neteyam x reader smut #Modern avatar au

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