#womnsfw
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* ੈ✩‧₊˚ — 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 | masterlist
pairing: tonowari x omatikaya!fem reader
series masterlist | avatar masterlist
wordcount: 2.5k — warnings: power imbalance? oral sex (m receiving), sexually naive reader, coercion, first time blowjobs, guidance, small mentions of drugging (side effect of the pollen) declarations of love, one sided pining, age gap, dead ronal, reader is Jake’s adult daughter | PSA: You’re responsible for your own media consumption. 18+ + under my #womnsfw tag. MDNI.
summary: To thank Tonowari for allowing your family into the Metkayina clan, you gift him a flower that you had picked from the forest before you fled your home. What you don’t realise is the the flower becomes toxic when near water, and Tonowari is experiencing all of the side effects: being left with a hard ache in his pants, and an overwhelming desire for relief.
—
“What is this, little one?” There’s a beat of hesitancy from Tonowari, whose light blue eyes scan your yellow ones in confusion. “I have not seen this before.”
“This is an irayo flower,” you tell him gently, your ears pricking upwards slightly as he clasps the flower in his big hands, examining it carefully. “It is a gift. I’m very grateful you’ve allowed my family to stay here.”
Tonowari clears his throat, satisfied with your answer. He holds the flower gently, appreciative of the pink and purple hues, his eyes flickering up to scan the horizon. He wonders how many flowers you must have picked before you fled your home. He can only imagine the pain you must be in, the grief - leaving your clan behind and everything you once knew, with nothing but flowers and trinkets to hold your memories.
“Thank you. It’s… lovely,” Tonowari nods his head in acknowledgement, trying ignore how his heart clenches in his chest as your lips quirk upwards into a gentle smile, relief washing over your features. “But it is getting dark, little one, and your father may be growing worried by your absence. JakeSully does not strike me as the type of man to appreciate defiance.”
You nod your head, eyes flickering between the Metkayinan leader and his flower, pleased that he accepted your act of gratitude. You turn heel, bidding him a meek farewell, before scurrying off to your family hut, excited to tell your father about your day.
—
Two days later, you are in Tonowari’s presence again, only this time, he does not appear pleased, and certainly does not look kind. There’s a stern look on his face as he approaches you - his lips are set in a thin line, and his body is tense, his eyes unwavering as they stare directly into yours.
“That flower is poisonous. You have gifted me a poisonous flower.” Tonowari declares, his lips curling in disgust as he shoves the flower in your face, before crumbling it into his hand. A wave of disappointment shoots through you as it falls to the floor, looking bent and pathetically broken. “I have been kind to your family, and this is how you have repaid me?”
You frown, shaking your head as you stare down at the flower. “No. You’re - you’re wrong - I gifted you an irayo flower. It is said to promote peace and to help bring comfort.”
“Comfort?” Tonowari seethes, so loudly that it sounds like a hiss, and your body stills when you notice his ears pinning threateningly against his head. “It has done the opposite of bringing me comfort. In fact, I am in incredible pain.”
Your own ears flitter backwards, your head bowing downwards in fear, and his heart pulls because he doesn’t wish to scare you, but he is terrible discomfort. Even simply suggesting to you that he is in pain is a massive understatement. Ever since being in possession of that stupid flower (which he couldn’t stop sniffing because it reminded him so badly of you) his cock had been aching. At first, he assumed it was because he hadn’t been around such a desirable women since Ronal, but that thought soon disappeared when the ache only got worse.
Even now, staring down at you, the ache overwhelms him. You overwhelm him. That stupid flower overwhelms him. His senses are heightened, and his heart is racing, and his cock is so hard, throbbing with a painful need.
And when you stare up at him meekly, trying to calm down your own rapidly beating heart, before muttering, “I’m sorry, Tonowari,” the helpless throbbing of his cock only gets worse. But then your eyes glimmer with hope, your hands pressing against his abdomen, and you ask, “is there anything I can do to help?”
“Would you? Would you help?” He asks, trying to ignore the desperate pulsing of his cock at your words, grumbling as you nod your head in time with his words.
“I feel obligated to help. It’s my fault you’re in pain, Tonowari,” you whisper, your hand cool against his hot abdomen, your placement friendly, nothing more, but Tonowari’s eyes glimmer with need as you splay your fingers across his skin. “Just tell me what I need to do.”
“It’s wrong of me to ask,” he breathes, his eyelids fluttering as you frown, shaking your head. You seem more than eager to help, trying to cool Tonowari down with the cold of your skin, and it’s helping. Your touch is easing the throbbing of his cock, and he knows that it’s wrong and that you’re Jake Sully’s daughter, but you gave him that damned flower.
You got yourself into this mess. “It is not wrong of you to ask anything of me, Tonowari. I have made you incredibly sick. What must I do to help you?”
It’s incredibly lucky that you’re by the coral shore, sheathed by tall, jagged rocks. It is pure, genuine luck that Tonowari has you here alone, covered by the natural environment of Pandora to save your dignity. “Get on your knees, little one,” he murmurs, his voice so low it resembles that of a growl. When you quirk your brow line up in confusion, he repeats sternly, “get on your knees.”
There’s a slight thrill which rushes to your core as you do what he says. Tonowari is so much larger than you - being of the Metkayina clan, he is built to withstand the conditions of water, and his body is much thicker than yours. His strong thighs flex as your fingers splay over them, your dark blue skin contrasting with the light of his own.
“You have no idea what pain your gift has burdened me with,” Tonowari grunts, and your eyes widen slightly as he begins to pull his loincloth to one side, slightly beginning to expose his length.
“Tonowari, what are you doing? This is not right,” you whisper from beneath him, trying to calm down your racing heart as he shushes you from above, a hiss rattling past his lips as he abandons his loincloth to the sandy floor.
“You said you would help. This is how you can do it.” He says simply, watching as your lips part in wonder, because you haven’t ever seen anything quite like it.
There have not been many suitors in your lifetime - none brave enough to face the wrath of your father - and you’d never even felt the touch of a man before, especially not in such a sensual manner. Yet here you are, knelt before Tonowari, his fingers softly trailing through your curls, your eyes set on his cock, which is so angry and hard that you feel somewhat afraid. A distorted gasp escapes your mouths as his cocks involuntarily pulses, his tip leaking with thick, white cum.
“I had no idea the flower had this effect on men,” You breathe softly, trying to calm the wavering of your voice as Tonowari’s hands guide your own to his cock. His strong fingers curl around yours, encouraging you to wrap your hand around his length, which you do, flinching as it pulses in your hand. “Does it hurt?”
The innocence in your voice and the your uneven breathing makes Tonowari’s eyelids flutter shut. You are just perfect - the right amount of innocent moulded perfectly with the right amount to please, and he wonders if he could even convince you to suck it. “It hurts more than you’d know. It’s unbearable,” he murmurs, coursing your hands up and down his length slowly, hissing as you slowly begin to take over his motions.
Tonowari is just tall enough to see over the rocks, onto his large stretch of land. The communal area is full, boasting with people celebrating over a successful hunt, and his heart tugs as he realises you’re practically stroking his cock in public. There’s hesitancy in your motions, but he doesn’t care - the smooth movement of your hand is enough for him, easing the once overbearing ache which pulsated through his cock every few seconds.
It’s more than obvious that you don’t know what you’re doing - your breath is teasingly fanning over his length, your lips almost close enough to brush over his tip, and it takes everything in Tonowari not to jut his hips forwards and force his length into your mouth. “I need more,” he tells you, his fingers playing at your hair, gently trailing through your curls, careful not to catch onto the strands too harshly. “Put it in your mouth. That will ease the pain greatly - it will almost completely get rid of it.”
You frown, unbelieving. The sandy floor is harsh on your knees, and your hands begin to slow their motion, stilling when Tonowari juts his cock closer to your face. It’s difficult to ignore the way your stomach flips with arousal when his jaw clenches as your tongue comes out to lick a wet stripe up the base of his cock. Your eyes are glued to his face, gasping softly as his nose crinkles when your tongue makes contact with his cock.
“Does this really help?” You ask, hesitant, eyes fixating now on his length, which stands hard and proud in front of you. “It seems like there may be better ways to go about this. Like - like you, giving yourself some relief.”
“I have tried to give myself relief,” Tonowari huffs from above you, his eyes narrowing condescendingly, as though he can’t believe your fiery tone. “That flower you gifted me does not allow for relief. I cannot relieve myself - where do you think I have been for the past two days? On a voyage, travelling the seas like a young warrior?”
You blink up at him, unnerving, his cock pulsating in your hands. His nostrils flare and his fingers tug at your hair softly. “No. I have been rutting against my bed like a recently mated Na’vi. The only relief I get is when I see you, little one,” he growls, his fingers now curling in your hair, a yelp slipping past your lips when he tugs you forwards. “So I advise that you put me between your lips and suck.”
There’s one final beat of hesitancy that passes through the air before you do what he says. Tonowari’s muscles flex under your fingers as you take him your mouth - your lips wrapping against his cock pathetically, a quiet whine leaving you as you begin to bob your head up and down his length. It’s intrusive, and it tastes funny - salty, but good, and he thrusts instinctively, your throat constricting as he does so.
And for Tonowari, it’s like the pain is melting away. The feeling of your tongue rolling up and down his length as you take him in your mouth eases the insufferable ache. Sure, his cock is still throbbing - desperate for uncertain relief, but he’s got what he wanted for now.
It would be wrong of him to complain. “Just like that, little one,” Tonowari hisses, his eyes flickering over to the camp, satisfied when he notices no lingering eyes. “Take in more. Come on, little one, I believe you can do it.”
The softness of his voice sends goosebumps shooting up and down your arms. Your stomach flips as you do what he says, gagging pathetically as you force your head down, your eyes pricking with tears, and it almost knocks the breath out of Tonowari’s lungs, his cock twitching in your mouth when tears begin to stream down your dark blue cheeks.
You want to speak but you can’t, and you feel so ashamed and embarassed that you don’t even try. Tonowari notices, but he doesn’t care - you’ve put him through enough pain already, and the shame you feel will soon wash away; instead, he’s focused on chasing his own high.
He’ll feel bad later on, when you’re defiled and confused, when he has to claim you as his mate. But not right now - no, he’s focusing on himself, and the feeling of your lips wrapped around his length is just perfect. Your tongue runs over every textured rib and every vein, working skilfully as though you’ve done this before.
And you haven’t, and you’re struggling, so Tonowari decides that enough is enough. His stomach flips slightly, and he tries to ignore the urge to grab your head and fuck your throat - he wants to be gentle with you, seeing how you’re such a sweet little flower, so he is. “I’m going to finish,” he grits out, his hands harsh on your head as he grips your hair, “and I need you to swallow, okay, little one? It will be salty, but it’s safe to eat.”
You blink your tears away, nodding softly in acknowledgement, flinching as Tonowari’s balls squelch against your chin, which is wet with your spit. There’s a split second he stills - a split second where the pain in the back of your throat from his intrusion eases - but it doesn’t last. He cums, and you grimance, unused to such a salty mixture in your mouth, trying to focus on the praises which spew from Tonowari’s lips.
“You have done so well, little one,” he tells you once you’ve pulled away, cooing at your teary eyes. “You have done perfect. All of the pain is gone. You’re a perfect little medic.”
You beam up at him, and he watches as your wet little lashes bat as he speaks to you. You cling onto every word, oblivious of just how pretty Tonowari finds you, happy to help the Metikyan leader at any chance. “It doesn’t hurt?”
“No. The pain is all gone.” Tonowari says, beckoning you to stand up with his open palm. You take his hand your heart straining in your chest as his fingers curl around your own. “Thank you for your help, little one. It is greatly appreciated.”
Defeat pulses through you as Tonowari begins to guide you back to the communal campfire, but his hand doesn’t slip from yours. There’s kindness behind the gesture, but also possession, too, and you try to ignore the way your heart sinks when you notice your father gazing at you from your hut.
“My family will be waiting for me,” you say, meekly, your hand slipping from Tonowari’s grasp defeatedly. Your fingers splay over his chest gently, kindly, and you murmur, “the flower becomes toxic when presented with water for too long. I presume that was your mistake. But if you find yourself in a similar position again, needing support, then I am always free to help you.”
Tonowari grins, his eyes flickering over towards your father, whose hands are now resting on his hips. “Go to your hut, little one. Your father is waiting - you are late for curfew.”
There’s something teasing in his tone, an edge of playfulness, and your cheeks flush as you stalk away from him, trying to ignore how your heart flips when you think back to minutes before, where you were kneeled in front of Tonowari whilst he pumped his seed into your mouth.
You shamefully wonder in excitement if he will ever do such thing again.
#tonowari#tonowari imagine#tonowari x you#tonowari smut#tonowari x reader#tonowari x y/n#avatar: the way of water#avatar#atwow headcanons#atwow Tonowari#Jake sully x reader#avatar smut#avatar fic#avatar film#Tonowari fanficfiln#Tonowari fluff#Jake sully imagine#avatar 2#avatar 2009#womnsfw#avatar fanfic#atwow fanfiction#1k 💕#2k💕#3k🤍#4k🤍
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would u do hcs for riding their thighs 😋 or an imagine of one of em they all got some nice laps
* ੈ✩‧₊˚ — 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰/ 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 + 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢 | 𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
summary: thigh riding with the boys. all drabbles
— warnings: thigh riding - orgasms, oral fixations, twisted dynamic (specifically between quaritch and reader, can't write that man nicely) nicknames [bunny, sweetheart, sweet girl, daddy] - whether reader is na'vi or human is up to your interpretation!-
ꕤ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇
"Nice and wet already, huh, bunny?" Quaritch says from above you, your pretty cheeks flushing over with warmth as his hands come down to grasp your hips.
He is huge. Frighteningly so. Your heart hammers in your chest, your eyelashes batting rapidly, your hands frantically holding onto his shirt. It feels wrong - so, so wrong to be naked atop of him, especially when he's fully dressed. You're so bothered - so embarrassed that you actually look like you're going to cry, your big doe-eyes glistening with tears.
"You gonna cry, bunny? You gonna cry when you cum all over daddy's pants?" His tone drips with mockery, and he has the audacity to laugh at you when you breathe out shakily, your hands trembling as you grip tighter onto his shirt.
“Please stop,” you whimper as he grinds your hips for you roughly, his cargo pants stimulating your clit shamefully. “It - it feels weird,”
"It feels good and you don't like it," Quaritch interrupts plainly, his fingers toying with your lips, letting out a quiet hiss as your mouth instinctively wraps around them to suck. "That's my girl. My little bouncy bunny, bouncing up and down her daddy's thighs. Feel's good, doesn't it?"
Shamefully humming in agreement, you dip your head slightly, your mouth still wrapped around his fingers, sucking carefully. Perhaps it's because there's so much of him that you can't hold back. The folds of his cargo pants press against you harshly, the fabric stimulating your clit, and you pathetically whine against him.
Quaritch smirks, leaning back slightly to take you all in. He presses his fingers against your tongue, satisfied with just how well you're taking him - how you're grinding against him despite the shame and guilt that comes with it. "Come undone all over my pants, bunny. I want the world to see what a dirty little slut you are."
As you gasp against him, your little hips desperately rutting on his thighs, squirting all over him like you have no shame, he lets out a gentle hiss, ears pinning backward instinctively. You're going to do this all over again until you're an even more crying, weeping mess on his thighs.
ꕤ 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘
Thick thighs; strong thighs. Once weak and small, foreign to the strength needed to run on forest floors and mountain land, now tough and powerful. It's hard to drag your eyes away from your mate, as he kneads moisture into his legs to soothe the ache from adapting to a newer climate: the ocean.
"You starin' at me, sweetheart?" Jake's voice is cool and calming, his eyes not leaving his thighs as he addresses you.
Ears pinning backward, a slight flush of warmth spreads across your cheeks. "I like what I see," you answer honestly, and your mate chuckles to himself, rubbing the moisturizer into his thighs in hard, circular motions.
He hisses. "You are doing it wrong, ma Jake. Gentle, gentle, here, let me help you." You take the pot of moisture away from him, silently clambering onto his lap, your chest growing tight as you softly begin to knead his thighs.
Jake stares at you. It is intense and piercing, and he grumbles as your fingers dully brush against his crotch as you rub his thighs. They are big and muscular - flexing every time you roll your thumbs against a particularly tight knot, and you find yourself dreaming about what you could do with them. How good they could make you feel.
"You okay, sweetheart? Seem to be dozin' off slightly." Jake's hand slither into your hair and you mewl quietly, your nose brushing against one of his thighs. You pepper a soft kiss to it, and he hums. "I think I know what you want."
"Do you?"
"Mmm. Sit on my lap for me, sweet girl, that's right - uh-huh, perfect."
It's a strange feeling at first. Jake's thighs are lotioned up, soft and glistening, and you find your body slipping subconsciously down his thighs. Your bottom half is almost bare against him, and you stifle an obnoxious moan as he steadies your hips so you don't slip anymore. The friction feels amazing, and you pout at his steadying, wiggling your hips side by side softly.
You hope he doesn't notice, but Jake isn't stupid. He grins to himself as he softly begins to roll your hips up and down, pressing you hard against his thighs. Your arms wrap around him instinctively, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, your senses overstimulated with his scent and the feeling of his strong thighs flexing under your cunt.
"Let's see how good I can make you feel, huh, sweet girl?"
ꕤ 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐈
"Make yourself feel good, my flower. Do not worry about me."
Tonowari's big, strong arms are wrapped around your waist, his face nuzzling into your neck, breathing in your scent. It is new to him, all of this - feeling so devoted and prideful. Your womb blooms with life, and he is afraid to hurt you. The birth of your first child will be soon, and he does not want to risk any consequences.
He's heard enough horror stories to know otherwise. Tonowari grunts as you shuffle against him, your loincloth abandoned on the hut floor. There is no light but that of candlelight, burning low, and he can just make out your lewd and illicit features. His bare thighs flex as you comfortably plant yourself against him, thighs spread either side of his eagerly, your womb swollen with life.
It makes his cock throb eagerly when he hears you moan - when he feels your slick press against his thigh, when you begin to grind atop of him. It's painful - so incredibly painful to watch his mate come undone with no help, but he cannot do anything.
He must watch.
Your body trembles against him softly, your voice wavering as you moan, "oh, Tonowari, your thighs are so strong. They are like that of a great warrior. You manage to please me in every sector of life."
Like clockwork, he tenses again, eager to please. Tonowari peppers soft kisses against your face, basking in the salty taste of water and sweat as you begin to rut against him in a desperate frenzy of heat. "My flower, do not wilt yourself out. I want you to bloom."
"I'm blooming, Tonowari - oh Ewya - I'm so close," your voice wavers a your cunt slicks against his thighs, comfortable as he flexes beneath you, urging him to bounce his leg softly. And he does - of course he does because all Tonowari ever wants to do is please you, so he looks away, a dark blue blush rising on his cheeks like the dawn, and bounces his legs.
It is enough for you. If Tonowari let you, you would worship his thighs - pepper gentle kisses to them, devote yourself to them - but he won't. So this is what you settle for, an orgasm that drowns you, which has your mate holding you up as you cream all over his legs, body convulsing atop of him.
#tonowari smut#tonowari x reader#tonowari imagine#tonowari x you#jake sully#jake sully x you#jake sully smut#jake sully x y/n#jake sully x reader#miles quaritch smut#quaritch x you#quaritch imagine#miles quaritch x reader#miles quaritch x you#avatar smut#avatar: the way of water#womnsfw#1k 💕
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
series masterlist | avatar masterlist
pairing: tonowari x omatikaya!fem reader
Summary: After mating with Tonowari, you experience a glimpse of domesticated bliss. Grateful that you’ve chosen a doting mate, you bask in your relationship, despite the insecurities that plague you regarding his old mate, Ronal. After you confess this to him, he decides to show you just how over her he truly is.
— warnings: age gap (21/yo reader) mutual pining, plot, family drama time oops, mentions of insecurity, reader doesn't feel worthy of being tonowari's mate, fluff, smut, dead ronal, bathing ! nsfw content (bc this wouldn't be a sex pollen fic if it was sfw 🙄) nipple sucking, brief mention of tonowari having lactation kink, fingering, orgasm denial, oral sex [f recieving] p in v, mating, breeding kink.
There is no longer a fire which blazes within you.
You wonder how there ever even was to begin with. Surrounded by water, your flame should have been snuffed out the minute that it was sparked. The cool breeze of the reef should have blown out the flicker before it began to burn wildly.
The irayo flower — a token of your homeland, beautiful with its lavender purple and tulip pink hues — had a side effect so dangerous that it caused a sickly fever to pulsate through the Metkayina leader. A fever that no medicine could cure. A fever, cooled by only your touch and your touch alone.
Inside of you, there is silence. Despite the fact your face no longer burns with heat whenever you gaze at the Metkayina leader, you still drown in desire and want. Tonowari is sleeping, cocooned by his hammock, a peaceful expression clouding his face as his chest rises and falls slowly, soft breaths leaving his mouth.
You wonder if the sea had claimed you before you had claimed it. You knew your sisters and brothers had no trouble adapting — Lo'ak felt more at home here than he had in the tribunal forests of your homeland, and Kiri felt comfortable and in touch with Ewya wherever she went. Neteyam, the mighty warrior, had adapted quickly to the new hunting rituals, bringing home many pounds of fish, and Tuk had impressively learnt in days how to weave items of clothing by using Metkayina flora.
They'd adapted properly, using their labour to find a way to fit in, and though your family would always be outcasts — with your five fingers a contrast to their four, a constant reminder that you are alien — their labour proved their worth. They were accepted.
Though you're smiling at the thought of your brothers and sisters, your heart tugs — how would they react to the news? When your father had hounded you to find a mate, he surely meant someone more... age-appropriate. Your father certainly did not mean that he wanted you to mate with someone whom he often drank Pongu Lumpia with.
Shaking your head, your fingers close around your robe. It's a maroon red, woven by Tuk with flora she'd found in a cave on the reef. It cocoons you into a shield of warmth, hiding you from the cool ocean breeze which rustles throughout Tonowari's marui. The cold air causes him to stir in his sleep, the coolness a sharp contrast to his heated body.
You watch as he grumbles in discontent, his ears twitching in annoyance, your own flittering upwards in anticipation. "Tonowari," you whisper, edging towards the Metkayina leader, your fingers darting over his thighs when you reach his hammock. "The sun is rising. You must wake soon."
"It has not risen, yet. Come to bed, little one. I miss your warmth."
Tonowari's voice is groggy, ridden with sleep, and you hesitate, your fingers lingering on his strong thighs. "We must tell my parents—"
"—We will tell them later. Join me, for now. We will do whatever you wish when the sun has risen."
You pout in disproval, though you listen. The hammock is comfortable, adapting to your weight as you sink inside of it, and you squeak slightly as Tonowari's strong arms wrap around your frame. "You're so warm, little one," he grunts, his voice rumbling in his chest as he speaks, his nose nuzzling against your own. "It must be because of that robe."
Goosebumps flicker up your skin as Tonowari's hand begin to sneak underneath your garment. His fingers make lewd movements, darting from your abdomen up towards your chest, a shiver ghosting up your spine as his thumb flicks over your nipples, which harden as the cool breeze begins to wash over your frame.
"Would you like for me to take it off?" You moan, and it sounds so sweet that Tonowari's cock throbs with need. Your heart hammers in your chest as his deep blue eyes bore into your own, his finger gently begging to roll your nipple between his fingers.
"I do not want you to get cold, little one," Tonowari mumbles, his breath flittering against your chest as he dips his head, his lips peppering gentle kisses against your skin. "Keep it on."
There's a foreign sensation that crackles through you once Tonowari's lips wrap around one of your nipples. As he gently begins to suck, you gasp, your body jolting towards his as an overbearing feeling of electricity pulses through you. It bites at every nerve, making your body throb with electricity.
"Oh." You mewl, your face growing insatiably hot as Tonowari hums against your nipple, your eyes shutting tightly as he purrs against your skin. "This feels—"
"—Good," he finishes your sentence, pulling away from your breasts, a lewd trail of spit following him. Your gaze flickers down towards him, and you wishes you hadn't even bothered looking, because a moan catches in your throat when you see his swollen lips and lust-filled eyes trailing over your body.
Tonowari's tongue wets his lips, before he dips his head to latch his mouth around your nipple again. It's a strange sensation, to say the least. You've never really explored yourself there before — but now you're really wishing you had.
You squirm under Tonowari's touch, and a moan catches in your throat, but you're unsure of whether or not it actually escapes your lips or dies before it gets to do so. His lips wrap around your sensitive nub, careful as his sharp teeth begin to graze softly against the bundle of nerves, and your hands instinctively fall down to his head, your fingers running over his braids as he laps at your nipple.
Tonowari's tongue skilfully swirls around your nipple, and warmth pools in your lower belly as he begins to grow eager, his hands darting down towards your loincloth. "Please," you beg, though you're not exactly sure what you're begging for. Warmth curls at every nerve inside of you as his fingers disappear under your loincloth, your breath still in your chest as you try to anticipate his next move.
“Breathe, little one,” Tonowari utters, his fingers gently brushing over your slits, the sensation making you melt with warmth.
You nod and try to steady your breathing. Tonowari is still and it's driving you crazy — your hips instinctively buck against his fingers, and a breathy whine escapes your mouth. He shoots you an unimpressed look, and you blush. Once your breathing is even, Tonowari continues. Though the soft flickers of his brows are knitted together and his eyes are somewhat narrowed from your eager bucking, his touch is gentle, his wet, warm mouth wrapped around your nipples, his tongue beginning to flicker again.
Every nerve inside of you is lit, blazing and burning wildly. His fingers gently part your sticky folds, electricity crackling up your spine as he sucks at your sensitive nipples, his eyes lulling shut soothingly.”
"You are going to be even more needy for this once you're carrying our child," Tonowari says, his fingers gliding up and down your slits, satisfied with how wet and needy your cunt is. "Is this your first time being pleasured in such a way?"
"I've never touched myself there before," you admit hoarsely, shivering as Tonowari nibbles at your bud in response, the sensation sending butterflies fluttering through your stomach. "Just my — my, uh—"
"—Just your cunt. I know, little one. I saw everything when we committed Tsaheylu."
Your face blazes with embarrassment, but Tonowari does not falter. You swallow thickly, a whine catching in your throat as Tonowari's fingers press into your cunt, the curling of his digits making you jolt. The unexpected intrusion makes you mewl in appreciation, your hands pressing eagerly against the back of his head, encouraging him to keep sucking.
It's all you want. The sensation feels electric, and it makes you drown in heat. The air in the marui is scorching, making it difficult to breathe, but you focus on the rising and falling of your chest, not wanting him to stop again.
"I forget how new you are to all of this," he chuckles lowly, the sensation vibrating against you, making you mewl. Insecurity tugs at your heart, because you are new to this — but your mate seems so delighted. "You're so reactive. Tell me, little one, do you like this?"
Tonowari bites at your nipple, and you gasp, rutting into his hand like you're in heat. The sensation makes tears bubble in your eyes, because it stings to have your sensitive bud pressed between his two, sharp canines, but you're so wet that it doesn't matter, a sultry twinge shooting through you at the lewd action.
"Yes, I like it," you mumble drunkenly, your eyes blown and dark, your body craving him. His fingers curl inside of you appreciatively, a soft squelch echoing around the mauri, and he grins against your chest.
"Mmm. You're going to love it once you're with child," he states lowly, his fingers slowly working at your cunt, scissoring you open. "If you're this sensitive now..."
He trails off, unable to finish his sentence, and you let out a breathy moan. Between the lewd curling of Tonowari's fingers and the feeling of his hot mouth suckling at your chest, you feel yourself growing blind. Heat flashes through your body, an insatiable warmth pooling in your stomach as your thighs begin to tense, locking his hand in place as he fingers your cunt.
It feels so good. Tonowari devours you; his entire presence sending shocks shooting through your body. It's so deliciously wrong to have the Metkayina leader sending you into oblivion with his sharp teeth and gentle mouth, and you gasp as you squelch and squirm and clench down around his fingers, your moans mortifyingly loud.
"I need to — Tonowari, please, I need to —" you plead, your eyes beginning to grow heavy and your body edging towards numbness as his teeth catch your nipple again, rolling his rough tongue against the bud gently.
"Breathe." He says, tone so sharp that it feels like a knife, your body prickling with heat as your orgasm approaches; hard and fast and heavy, weighing your body down as you begin to tremble and shake against him.
Your eyes are closed so tight that you see stars. Tonowari's fingers curl inside of you as you attempt to take a deep breath, and you wail, the feeling so overwhelming and good that you begin to cry. Your chest is heaving — really heaving, and your lungs burn with the urge to breathe but you just can't, and despite Tonowari's reminder earlier, you’ve forgot.
Your body writhes beneath him. You wriggle, pleading for air because each stroke of his fingers and flicker of his tongue makes it impossible to breathe. You can't even think anymore, so dumb from the hot sparks which shroud your body into what you thought to be unattainable bliss that your nerves grow numb.
"Little one, you need to breathe," Tonowari repeats, but your ears are ringing and you can't hear him because his teeth are rolling over your nipples and he's sucking so good and his fingers are curling inside of your cunt so tortuously. You can't hear anything except for your own blood pumping inside of you and the shameful squelching of your cunt, and you hump against his fingers eagerly.
Just when you're on the brink of cumming, just as you suck in air and begin to shake and convulse, he stops.
You begin to gasp for air, writhing against his chest, your eyes tired and heavy as all of his movements stop. Tonowari pulls away from your chest, his look of disapproval burning through you.
"You forgot to breathe," he says accusatory. Your eyes peek over him, and your breath stills in your chest again. Tonowari's eyes are so blown that his irises are being swallowed, leaving just a thin ring of the aqua-blue around the edge.
"I'm sorry. Felt too good," you mumble breathy, your fingers splayed over Tonowari's head, pushing him eagerly towards your chest. "Please?"
He frowns, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I cannot please you if you do not breathe."
"I will breathe, yawne," you utter desperately, beginning to hump at his fingers. "I promise you I will breathe. Please, Tonowari, I need to feel good."
His lips press against your neck. His mouth is warm and wet, and he suckles slightly, a shiver spreading throughout you as he laps at the skin. Tonowari begins to pepper his kisses down towards your chest, leaving gentle bruises in the wake of his lips, and your body instinctively presses against him as his mouth brushes against your nipples.
"You're so good, yawne," you praise, your eyelids growing heavy as his lips reattach to your nipples, hot sparks exploding throughout your body. "So good to me."
You focus on your breathing this time — in, out, in out, in out. Tonowari's fingers curl inside of you again, and it's back to square one. Except, not really. You're so hypersensitive that as his teeth graze against your nipple, teasing and deliberate, you cunt clenches, and Tonowari grunts.
He's so hard that it physically hurts him. The lavender tip of his cock is leaking with pre-cum, but he doesn't even bother to move in an attempt to fist himself free of the shackles of his own desire for an orgasm. Tonowari is so focused on you and what makes you feel good, which just so happens to be anything he does.
You're appreciative of the fact that he's focusing on your pleasure rather than his own. Tonowari explores you, his tongue darting across your skin, goosebumps rising in it's wake, before returning back to your sensitive, swollen nipples.
Your chest feels so tight. Your heart hammers, pounding, and you focus on your breathing, making sure to satisfy Tonowari. You feel his cock, hard and rigid, pressed up against your thighs, as you try to brush against him but it's impossible. You can't move, pinned under his weight, under the feeling of his delicious tongue which swirls skilfully around your nipples and the curling of his fingers.
"I'm going to —"
"Do it."
You whimper, nodding eagerly at his words, dragging your lips between your teeth. It all feels too good, too much, and you begin to convulse. Warmth spreads throughout your abdomen, your cunt growing even slicker as he fingers you, rolling into the spongy spot inside of you with ease.
It feels like a knot is violently unraveling inside of you. Your breathing becomes unsteady, uneven; manic and quick. The knot feels like it's being ripped apart. Snapped and torn and frayed.
You let go of everything. You feel nothing but him. His touch is ecstasy, and you feel divine, holy as you cum.
The rays of the sun blind you as you come undone around him. Twitching, jolting, shaking. You're blazed with pleasure, dumb with need, and Tonowari's ears twitch eagerly, listening to every moan and cry that spews past your lips.
You blink, hazily, your breathing uneven as his fingers pull out of you, his mouth still suckling on your breasts. Tonowari groans, his hands grabbing at your skin, squeezing your hips tightly.
Confusion clouds you as Tonowari’s hips judder against your thighs, a gasp of realisation slipping past your lips as his hard cock pulls away from your plump flesh. He’s came — his own breathing is uneven and steady, and he’s left a painting of sticky cum against your skin. His ears pin tightly against his head, but he doesn’t seem embarassed at all. It’s like this is a totally normal thing for him.
And maybe it is. But it’s not for you. Your eyes are wide in shock, your fingers still as they press against Tonowari’s chest. His face is now inches away from yours, and he has a satisfied, smug grin plastered across his lips.
“Was that good, little one? Did that satisfy you?”
“You came.” You say, bewildered, your hands shaking as they press against his chest, your brows knitted together in confusion. “How — Why did you —“
“Your pleasure is my pleasure, yawne.” Tonowari mumbles, and the term of endearment makes your heart soar. “This is not unusual for me.”
As always, you frown. Tonowari is referring to his previous encounters, with his previous mate. Jealousy pricks at your heart and you can’t help but wonder how you’re going to fill such big shoes. You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the feeling of his fingers pinching you cheek, and you scowl, your tail thrashing behind you.
“You like making me feel good?” You ask timidly, eyes crinkling as the sun blinds you, hiding yourself in Tonowari’s chest.
“It is what I enjoy doing the most. Pleasuring my mate is my greatest pleasure.” Tonowari affirms, shooting you a loving smile before his head turns to the entrance of the mauri, his eyes squinting from the sun. “I wish we could continue, little one, but the sun has risen.”
The sun has risen. You pout, somewhat disappointed that it can’t continue, because your body still feels electric from where he’d been pleasuring you. “It’s time to tell my family about us,” you say breathlessly, and Tonowari grins.
“Yes, it is.”
The walk back to Tonowari's marui is solemn. Whilst your father had disapproved, at least at first, he'd shrunk into himself once you'd told him that you and Tonowari had committed Tsaheylu, now bound together for life. It's somewhat ironic — Jake Sully cannot criticise you for who you'd chosen your mate to be. Your father had not only stolen your mother from Tsu'tey, a mighty warrior of the Omatikaya, he'd also been actively working against your community and your culture when doing so.
Eventually, your father accepted. Although he almost keeled over in the process, he'd accepted.
Tonowari didn't celebrate the way you thought he would. He just nodded his head and thanked your father for approving, and then turned heel and left.
And you'd followed him.
That's how you've ended up here.
The floor is almost scorching, and you shuffle forwards in discontent. Despite living in Awa'atlu for a few months, you still haven’t quite gotten used to the insatiable heat. You feel sweaty, uncomfortable, and your heart tugs as your mate pulls you towards his marui, your eyes flickering over towards him.
He hadn't even celebrated. Maybe it was because he knew your parents couldn't exactly deny you of him — Ewya had approved of your bond, and he is also Olo'eyktan. This is his clan, and you are his mate.
But... maybe that wasn't the case. And you don't want to think this way, you truly don't, but a little voice is in the back of your head is telling you that he didn't celebrate because he'd been through all of this before. Tonowari, perhaps, didn't celebrate because he had no need to — he'd been mated before, with Ronal, and he'd probably went with her to tell her parents, also. And he'd probably celebrated then, because she was the love of his life and she was supposed to be his mate forever.
You grimace, pushing your doubtful thinking away. You know of Ronal. She was a strict Tshaìk, yet a loving mother. A fierce leader. Her connection with Ewya was strong, and your heart pulls in your chest as Tonowari's fingers intertwine with yours.
There's an ounce of comfort in the small gesture. Safety. Your ears pin backwards and you look away, your eyes fleeting over every grain of sand as an excuse to not look at him.
The reef is booming with life. Children run, and parents chase them. Nobody even looks your way — Tonowari had promised you that they wouldn't. Until your bond is announced, nobody would think that you were both seeing each other, rather just assuming that he was just guiding you somewhere.
When you see the familiar, curvy triangular shape of the marui, your ears prick upwards. You try to stop at the entrance, needy for rest, but Tonowari's strides don't falter, until your hands slip from one another's grasp.
"Why have you stopped, little one?” Tonowari asks, his voice gentle as he eyes you suspiciously.
You hesitate under his pointed gaze, shuffling on your feet. "I thought we were going back home."
"I have something I want to show you," he utters, offering out his hand. "Come on, little one.”
"Where are we going?”
"I will show you. Come on."
You pause, eyes flickering from the marui to your mate, before you begrudgingly accepting his hand. Despite the two of you both being Na'vi, the size difference is overwhelming — Tonowari towers over you by a couple of feet, and his hand is so big that it sheathes the both of yours.
Minutes pass, and there is only silence. There is no conversation shared between the two of you. Tonowari holds your hand proudly, guiding you towards the rocky reefs. The slippery surface of the rocks makes your heart patter in your chest fearfully — you still hadn't quite gotten used to the feeling of slimy seaweed on your feet, and your hesitant steps are proof of that.
"You have not yet adapted," Tonowari chuckles, his grip on you strong as he guides you between two rocks, that stand tall and mighty.
"It's not that easy." You mumble, shivering as cold washes over you as the rocks begin to hide the sun.
He smiles. "You will learn soon, little one."
As your eyes adjust to the loss of sunlight, you can't help the awe that tugs at your heartstrings as you realise where Tonowari has taken you.
In your homeland, there was no such thing as a private, docile place to clean. All of the Omatikaya, including the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk, used a communal lake to bathe. Although the clan leaders were allowed to bathe alone, the others bathed together. There was just simply not enough water in the forest for the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk to have a personal, intimate area to clean and bathe together.
But here — in the reefs — there is nothing but water.
"What is this?" you whisper, your skin crawling with goosebumps as Tonowari presses his lips to your forehead gently.
"What do you think?" Tonowari quips back, watching as your nose crinkles as you breathe in the husky, earthy smell, your eyes scanning over the deep, pear-shaped entrance of the shelter.
There's something so intimate about how Tonowari guides you. His hands are resting on your shoulders, eagerly pushing you towards into the cave, your eyes falling on the downwards curve of the floor, which transcends into a pool of milky, steaming water.
"Is this yours?"
Your mate smiles, his nose nuzzling into your neck, his fingers slipping down towards your loincloth, gently beginning to untie its knot. "It is ours," he states, his face illuminated only by the blue and green bioluminescence moss which laps at the sides of the pool. "I heard from your father that in your homeland, the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk did not have their own private bathing quarters."
"When did you hear that?"
"JakeSully loves to complain when he's intoxicated. Pongu Lumpia makes him even more insufferable than usual," Tonowari grunts, smiling as your loincloth drops to the floor, leaving you bare in front of him. "He feels that as Toruk Makto he is worthy of privacy."
Tonowari's freckles are glowing in the dim light of the cave. “I say that he gave up the title of a mighty warrior when he fled his home.”
You try not to giggle, but it’s really, really hard. Tonowari has always been critical of your father, and his small joke actually allows you to bask in a sense of comfort.
Warmth cocoons you as he ushers you into the pool of milky water, watching as you submerge yourself. The silky hot water is perfect, and your face flushes with a light sheen of sweat and embarrassment as your mate begins to undress himself.
He stands so proud as he shows himself to you. You feel warm and gooey as he traipses into the water, and you try to focus on anything but him. There’s a slight lingering feeling of dread which pulses through you, ruining the slightly intimate moment, because you know deep down that Tonowari had shown Ronal this exact cave before.
The cool, fluorescent algae illuminates the cave, and there's a low, bioluminescence glow shining from beneath the milky substance in the water. It's beautiful in the cave, and pieces of moss glow like stars above you.
Your heart tugs in your chest as Tonowari's hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer towards him in the water. "What is on your mind, little one?" He asks, pressing a soft kiss to your wet temple, his lashes long and damp, soaked from the water. "You have been quiet ever since we left JakeSully’s marui."
The blissful solitude shrouds you, and you let your head hang on his chest, which has a shines turquoise from the water. "Nothing. I'm fine, Tonowari," you mumble, shooting him a gentle smile as he embraces you, his braids sticking to the wet skin of his back.
"You do not seem fine," he grumbles, careful as he picks up some circular moss which resided on the rocks. He squeezes the soft green plush, gentle as he begins to excrement soap from it, rolling it between his fingers. As soapy duds begin to form, he hums, rolling the moss against your skin, using gentle circular motions when he washes you. "Do you wish to tell me what is bothering you, little one?"
Tonowari's interaction with your father keeps replaying inside your head. Everytime it repeats, your heart pulls, cracks in half, and you can't tell if you're being dramatic or emotional or what. Tonowari hadn't reacted, he hadn't celebrated, he hadn't even smiled when he got your father's approval.
Because he'd been through it all before. With Ronal.
As he's washing you, soft in his motions as he rolls the soapy moss against your skin, all you can think about is how he's done this before with someone else. It plagues you. It's like a sickness.
"Yawne, I cannot help if you do not say anything," he says softly, beginning to cup the milky water in his hands, his ears twitching as the water trickles your skin.
“How are you over her?”
“Over who?”
“Ronal.”
Tonowari pauses for a brief second, before continuing to wash the duds off of your skin. Your voices echo around you, bouncing off of the cave walls, and your face flushes when his hands gently begin to massage your shoulders.
“She died a long time ago, little one. I cannot live in solitude and mourn any longer. She is with Ewya now.”
“But you’re supposed to mate for life. You’re — you’re still here. She’s still your mate.”
Tonowari frowns, his motions gentle and circular, his thumbs riding down to your back, focusing on a tight knot between your shoulder blades. “You are my mate.”
The silky hot water mixed with Tonowari’s fluid motions is an incredible soother. You feel like all of your tension is melting away, and despite the self-doubt and insecurity which flitters throughout you, you find yourself relaxing.
“But so is she.” You’re exasperated, confused.
You knew Tonowari had been mated before. You knew all of this before you chose him.
So why now, when you’re in too deep, are you having second thoughts?
“You are my mate.” Tonowari’s voice is soft, fleeting against your ear. “Do you need me to remind you of just how badly I want you, little one?” His breath fans against your skin, sending goosebumps down your spine and your stomach flips at his words.
You shake your head, a gentle gasp slipping past your lips as Tonowari turns you, his grip on your shoulders harsh as he does so. His palm squeezes your skin uncomfortably, and your breath hitches in your throat as his eyes bore into yours, so black and blown that the ring of ocean blue is barely visible.
“No, Tonowari. I don’t need a reminder.” Your voice is hoarse as you speak, wavering slightly as Tonowari’s nose nuzzles against your shoulder. “I know I’m your mate.”
“I do not think that you’re aware of how badly I’ve wanted you, little one.” His fingers dance against your skin, and his arms become submerged by the hot, silky water. Tonowari's hands cup your thighs, his body ushering you to the edge of the pool, and you squeak as you feel mossy rocks press against your back. "Ever since you came to the reef, I have not been able to keep my eyes off of you, and the second you gave me that irayo flower... it was the greatest excuse to get close to you."
"Excuse?" you murmur, breathless as his strong arms sit you against the rocks, his nose rubbing against your inner thighs. "What do you mean, excuse?"
Tonowari's teeth graze against your skin and you whine, your heart pitter-patting in your chest as his rough tongue laps at your skin, leaving dark-coloured bruises in its wake. “It hurt, yawne, more than you’d ever know. And like I told you — I was rutting like a newly mated Na’vi, and the only relief I got was when I would see you, and that is when I knew you were sent to me. From Ewya.”
“Oh,” you breathe, your heart tightening in your chest as Tonowari’s lips press against your cunt. His tongue laps at you eagerly, the rough muscle parting your slits, and a gentle whine slips past your mouth as he does so. Hot, electric sparks shoot up your skin, and your legs jolt slightly as his tongue swirls gently around your clit. “Tonowari.”
“You wonder why I chose you,” he purrs against your cunt, the vibration sending shockwaves through your pussy. “I wonder how you could ever choose me.”
The intimacy of Tonowari between your legs makes your stomach clench. Despite being recently mated, he hasn’t had an incredibly high libido — you haven’t snuck off to rut at every possible chance, rather having an even and steady sex life. But this — the way he’s nuzzling against your cunt, licking and lapping and sucking at the heat sloppily shows something different a
A primal side to him you haven’t seen before.
He's grunting, and you look down for a second, confused as to why he’s making noses. Then you notice his hand, which strokes up and down his cock in a steady motion. Tonowari is pleasuring himself whilst pleasuring you, and you moan, so conflicted to how a man can make you feel so horny.
Tonowari's tongue draws patterns on your clit, and his breathing becomes heavy as he strokes his cock, his eyes lulling as he laps at your cunt. He's so eager to please, kissing your heat softly, listening to every mewl and whine, and your stomach begins to twist, growing insatiable with every roll of his tongue.
And then you feel it — the knot inside of you begins to break, twist apart, fray at the hem. It's so peaceful this time, so satisfactory, and your moans bounce off of the cave walls as you cum, your hands behind Tonowari's head, pushing his face into your cunt needily. You hump against him like you're in heat, the feeling of his rough tongue stroking you through your orgasm making you shake.
"I must show you how much you mean to me, yawne," he comments, his voice shaking slightly as he strokes his uncomfortably hard cock with need. "Can I breed you?"
"Breed me?" You ask, exasperation lacing your tone as Tonowari joins you on the rocks, his strong hands pinning you underneath his body.
"That is what I asked, is it not?" He utters, his body sheathing your view of the bioluminescent moss which litters the top of the cave, shrouding your vision with black. The only light you have comes from the light-blue specks on his face, and a breathy moan leaves your mouth as Tonowari's cock glides through your slits, an unexpected jolt of electricity shooting up your spine.
"I'm just confused as to why you asked. We've done this before."
"I want you to carry my child, little one," he grumbles, a low groan sliding past his plush, sapphire lips as his tip rolls against your clit. "This is not just making the bond. I will be doing this with the intention of you growing plump with life."
You literally can't imagine anything hotter than being swollen and filled with Tonowari's children. You can't speak, the feeling of his tip rolling against your clit sending electric sparks fluttering through your nervous system. "Please," you squeak out, your heart burning with desire as his girthy tip presses against your entrance, your tight cunt beginning to sheathe his lavender tip.
"You are going to look so beautiful when I'm finished with you," Tonowari hisses, his stomach tight as his hips begin to roll into you, even and steady. "So beautiful, carrying our children, whilst practicing to become Tshaìk. I chose well."
Everything feels raw and sensitive. Your cunt clenches down around him, your senses somehow heightened in the dampness of the cave. Steam from the hot pool of milky water begins to evaporate, your skin covered with an aqua blue sheen from the condensation. Pressure pools in your lower belly, your ears twitching with every roll of his hips, your cunt tight when the tip of his cock brushes deliciously against the sensitive spot inside of your cunt.
It feels so liberating, knowing that he wants you. Truly wants you. You're not just a replacement — each needy thrust of his hips tell you that. Tonowari's fingers desperately grab at your queue, and you whine at the uncomfortably tug, but hot white flashes spark through your nerves system when his tendrils connect with yours.
Holy shit. This feels so much better than when he first ever bonded with you, and your legs shake as he stretches you thin. It's so painful but so amazing. His cock is nestled deep inside of your cunt, and you're so slick, so wet, droplets forming on your skin from where the reside of the water is beginning to dry. Tonowari's movements are smooth, easy, and your white ring of arousal paints the bottom of his length, coating his balls, and he groans as he fucks into you, his lavender tip throbbing as you clench around him tighter.
"You're made for me," he breathes out, "I cannot believe you ever doubted my love for you."
Through your connection, you can feel his pain. You can feel everything — the pull of his heart as he thinks about how insecure you'd been, and you scold yourself for ever being so silly. Tonowari, your gorgeous, loving mate intertwines his fingers with yours, and you swear you've never felt so good in your life.
You're intertwined with Tonowari in every way possible. Your cunt pulses around him, throbbing with need, and he groans into your neck, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your shoulder. "Oel ngati kameie," he mumbles, his eyes boring into yours, the black of his pupils so wide and blown you can no longer see any part of his irises. "Yawne, please, talk to me."
"Feels good, Tonowari," you blink, chest heaving as he fucks into you, being careful to focus on your breaths as your body begins to tingle with lust. "Almost ready for you to fill me up."
"Pxasìk," Tonowari curses, his accent thick, drawling in your ear and sending goosebumps exploding on your skin. "I'm ready. You're so — so tight, I can't hold back."
"Earlier all you did was hold back," you tease, moaning as the lewd squelching sounds of your cunt echo around the mossy cave. "Not — not letting me finish because I didn't breathe."
Tonowari is gentle as he slaps your thigh, warningly, a dangerous look painting his face, but it crinkles into something different as you purposefully clench down around him. You're so tight that it's like you're milking him, and you're so wet and warm, it's driving him crazy. "You were being naughty, yawne," he comments, his voice wavering as your eyes begin to flicker shut, your moans hitching in your throat as his hips roll into your sensitive bundle of nerves.
It's the most perfect thing you've ever felt. Neither of you speak as it happens, your orgasm crashing over the both of you in a perfect, delicious wave. You shake, jolt against him, cry out as your vision blackens with white stars, heat exploding through your body, your cunt tightening around him as you feel his seed begin to spurt inside of you. his own cum in you, your walls so tight and wet, the sound of his balls slapping lewdly against your cunt echoing throughout the cave, your moans merging with them to create an orgasmic mixtape.
You're so warm, the steam from the pool mixing with your insatiable heat from being crowded by Tonowari for so long, and he embraces you proudly as you twitch beneath him, your cunt feeling raw and full. He holds you, and his strong presence makes you feel so safe, the feeling of his cum painting your walls making you shiver.
"You are everything to me," he utters, his teeth grazing your neck as his tongue laps at your skin, basking in the slight, salty taste of sea water and sweat. "Please do not doubt that again."
"How can I?" you whisper, grumbling as Tonowari rolls over, positioning you atop of his chest as he lays on the mossy rocks. The blue and green glow from the algae and moss reflect on his face, painting his features, and you smile as you lean down to brush your nose against his, your finger splaying over your belly. "I'm going to have a constant reminder."
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* ੈ✩‧₊˚ — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
series masterlist | avatar masterlist
pairing: tonowari x omatikaya!fem reader
wordcount: 2.5k - warnings: power imbalance? confessions of love, pining, age gap (reader is 21) nsfw content — mating, p in v, lovemaking, female masturbation, oral sex (f receiving) fingering, bonding (connecting of queues) SLIGHT mentions of ao’nung x reader
summary: It’s been a few weeks since your last encounter with Tonowari, but every time you think of the Metkayina leader, your heart begins to race in your chest. You haven’t felt this way since the beginning of your adolescence, and your crush on Tonowari is hitting you full-force; deciding it’s ultimately best to admit your feelings for him before your father chooses a mate for you.
There’s a fire inside of you that’s been set ablaze since your encounter with Tonowari.
It’s a shameful fire, which burns within you constantly. You’re fiery, irritable, frustrated. You mope and pout, pondering on what your future mate will think if they were to ever find out what had happened. If your pure, angelic reputation was to be discovered as tainted — would you still be wanted?
All that consumes you is him. You think back on how vulnerable you were, how small and timid and accepting you had been, sinking to your knees to serve him like it was your duty. Perhaps it was your duty to truly help him, because after all - you gave him that damned flower.
The way you feel burns. Your skin is hot, your fingers curling down on your pillowcase, your hips gently rutting against your mattress like you're a cat in heat, breathy, quiet moans slipping past your lips as you try to grind yourself to an orgasm.
You’d felt this way before. During your adolescence you grew cloudy and desperate for relief, but as you grew older, developing into a mature, adult Na’vi, that feeling soon fizzled away, content with knowing such feelings would never arise again until you’d met your mate.
And you hadn’t met your mate, at least not yet. The man that you crave to mate with, the man who defiled your mouth and admitted to thinking only of you is not your mate. Tonowari is already mated, and though she is with Ewya now, his life is promised to her. Your nose crinkles as you think of him, his large frame towering over yours as he played with your curls, deep groans rumbling from his chest as he fucked your mouth.
It's so painful as you pick up speed, rutting against your pillow pitifully, your stomach flipping and wetness beginning to pool from your cunt, because you know Tonowari could make you feel so much better.
He's so much bigger than you - even one of his fingers could break you, have you crying and withering beneath him, legs trembling as you beg for more. It's painful because you can't actually cum - your eyes prick with tears and you gasp, your clit stimulated by the fabric of your bedding, your stomach pooling with a insatiable warmth.
But no matter how hard you rut, no matter how hard you think of Tonowari and his eagerness to use you for his own good, your orgasm never comes. It fades into the abiss, and your hips still, your chest heaving as you left out a strained huff, all senses of pleasure oozing away from you.
You wonder how you will ever get over this crush you have on Tonowari. You groan as you collapse into your hammock, unsatisfied and unfulfilled, cursing yourself for falling so deeply for a man who is already mated.
All you can wonder is how your chosen mate will feel, when he discovers that you are pining for his leader and are unsatisfied because of it.
The next few days blur into one. Your father is encouraging you to mingle with the boys of the Metkayina clan, even suggesting you become friends with Tonowari’s children as a means to find a potential mate.
“You’re not getting any younger,” your father had told you, his hand smoothing your curls down softly. “And I know this isn’t what you wanted, and that choosing a mate is a long process. But the boys of the Metkayina clan are alright, and you’ll find someone you like at some point, sweetheart. In fact, your mother and I both think that Ao’nung seems nice.”
“I don’t want Ao’nung,” you had said, your tail thrashing angrily behind you as your father placed a reassuring hand on your back. How were you to tell your parents that you didn’t wish to mate with Ao’nung because you wanted his father instead?
It’s ironic, really. When you think of it, Ao’nung is much closer in age to you than his father is. In fact, he’d probably be a much more suitable mate, and you half expected your father to go ahead and arrange it with Tonowari anyway.
The thought of Tonowari makes you feel slightly nauseous. He has children, and he has been mated before, and your parents would certainly not approve of him. Perhaps you should listen to your father - Ao’nung is a nice boy.
Yet, despite all of the negatives, Tonowari is on your mind, constantly. The spark he ignited inside of you the night he confronted you about the irayo flower has been set ablaze since, burning high and mighty and consuming every ounce of you.
You can’t stand it anymore. You need him to put the fire out, to blow out the sparks he lit within you.
That’s why you’re in his hut, your tail swaying shamefully, your eyes fixated on Tonowari, whose browline is crinkled in concern. His presence makes you feel so warm, so drowsy, and you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out, and everything you’d planned to say wilts away.
"What is wrong, little one?" Tonowari asks, his hands grazing your face, moving the stray hair away from your face. "You have been avoiding me - running away when you see me at the communal camp, darting behind rocks to avoid being seen. Yet now you are here, in my hut, in my home, wanting to speak but saying nothing at all."
"I am to be mated," you force out, your tongue feeling cotton-dry in your mouth, your throat constricting as you speak. Tonowari's features stay neutral, void of any readable expression. "Well, I am to choose a mate.”
"I know. You are a mature Na'vi now." His voice is thick as he speaks, his eyes boring into yours. "You are conflicted as to who to choose?”
Your ears pin backward shamefully, guilt washing through you as his he cups your cheeks softly, Tonowari's large frame towering over yours. His touch sends sparks shooting over your skin, and you mumble, “There are many noble men to choose from. My father has suggested Ao’nung,” you say, your throat dry as you spit out the name of his son. Tonowari does not react. “I just fear the one I wish to choose will not choose me.”
Tonowari’s ears flitter against his head, his eyes trailing over towards the wilted irayo flower which sits besides his hammock, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “My son is to become a mighty warrior yet. I do not think he would treat a woman like you how you deserve to be treated.” He blinks, irritation rolling throughout him. “Who is it you wish to choose, little one?” He whispers, his fingers soft as they graze your cheekbones, and your heart hammers in your chest as he dips, to shrink closer to your height.
“I wish to choose you, Tonowari,” you murmur, your body flooding with warmth as his palm cups your cheeks, his ocean eyes glinting with an unreadable expression. “But it feels wrong to even say.”
Your lips tremble softly as you speak, and Tonowari shoots you a fleeting smile, his nose pressing against yours. “You wish to choose me because I can make you feel good,” he whispers, his ears raised on his head, his fingers darting over your shoulder. “Isn’t that right, little one? Isn’t that what you’ve been thinking about all these weeks?”
Guilt pulsates through you as his fingers run down your waist, resting at the strap of your loincloth. Your stomach feels tight, and your body warm, your senses are clouded with him. “Tonowari, you have children.”
“I can always have more,” he tells you, his voice deep as it rumbles in his chest. Your heart races as his fingers skilfully untie the knot of your loincloth, your stomach pooling with a familiar sense of arousal as he does so. “Do you want this as bad as me, little one?”
“I don’t know,” you answer, your voice dry as cotton as you speak, your skin trickling with goosebumps when your loincloth falls to the floor, the costal breeze washing through the hut and riding up your skin.
“That is not an answer.” Tonowari’s voice is husky, his ocean eyes flickering with unknown emotion as he stares at your bare frame. “I need you to tell me you want it.” He presses, his fingers darting against the bare skin of your hip, and your breath hitches in your throat as he stands over you, tall and mighty.
The Olo'eyktan stares down at you, waiting, wanting. He is burning with need — burning almost as brightly as you.
“Yes,” you murmur, gasping as Tonowari’s hands pull you in roughly, his palms kneading at the skin of your ass. “Yes, I want this.”
“That is all you had to say.”
A pathetic whine crawls out of your throat as Tonowari’s body presses you against the wall of his hut. He’s much bigger than you, terrifyingly so, and it has a pool of arousal swirling in your stomach. Tonowari’s hands eagerly press your thighs apart, his overwhelmingly large frame dropping to the ground as he kneels before you, his breath fanning against your cunt.
“I think you wanted this more than me,” he breathes, sliding a finger through your sticky folds, his cock pulsing when you writhe above him.
It feels so deliciously good but so immoral when his lips connect with your cunt. There’s a spark of heat that flashes through you, which snakes up your spine and bites at every nerve. It’s dangerous, it’s hot, and it’s electric. The simple sensation of his lips suckling around your clit has you burning with desire, and you buck your hips against him vigorously.
There’s a sense of danger when Tonowari’s thick finger swirls around your hole. It has the hair pricking up your skin, the overriding sense of fear edging against the fiery nub of pleasure which burns like a flame in your belly. “Tonowari,” you whimper, tensing up as his finger smoothly glides into your cunt, clenching down on his digit involuntarily.
“Stay still, little one. I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, his voice rumbly, vibrating against your clit. His tone is so sharp that you have no choice but to listen, despite the fact that your muscles are screaming at you to move.
Tonowari’s finger is so wide and intrusive, foreign, unknown. Yet it curls inside of you so gently, massaging your walls carefully, that your body relaxes. His tongue works at you skilfully, and you’re blissfully aware of how experienced he is. The thought makes your skin prick with heat because he has been mated before, so this is not new for him, and your emotions are much more heightened for you. The desire within him is not burning as brightly as the desire inside of you, and the thought makes you feel insecure.
You can’t even think about his mating status right now, though. You can’t focus on anything but the curling of his fingers inside of your cunt and the swirling of his tongue around your clit. This is so much better than rutting against the pillow in your room, trying to chase an unachievable orgasm, moaning his name in the depths of despair and need and want.
Tonowari’s lips are pressing so needily against your cunt that you feel like you’re being gorgeously devoured. You try to still the gasp which climbs up your throat, but you can’t. You’re so loud, so desperate to be heard, and it only makes him glide his finger in and out of your cunt faster, carefully beginning to push another inside, stretching you out.
The burn from the stretch is numbed by his tongue, which works softly against your clit. “You’re so wet,” Tonowari murmurs, pulling away from your cunt to admire your swollen, leaking pussy. “I forgot how easily pleased virgins are.”
Your cunt looks desperate, eager to be used, leaking with so much slick that it looks like it’s crying. He hums in approval, his breath fanning over your sensitive cunt, causing goosebumps to rush up your skin.
“It hurts,” you squeak, pawing at his braids like a cat, bucking against him to dull the burning pain from the stretch of his fingers.
He doesn’t utter a word, burying his face closer into your cunt, and your breath hitches, your hips stilling when you feel it. A fire sparks inside of you — burning wildly, freely, and your legs begin to shake involuntarily, your dull fingernails pressing into Tonowari’s hair, pulling him closer. “Please,” you beg, your chest heaving as his fingers curl perfectly inside of you, “I’m so close.”
“That’s it, little one,” he coos, his fingers relentless as they pump into you, the sounds of your squelching cunt echoing around his hut, muffled slightly by his mouth, which suckles eagerly at your clit. “Come undone for me, my pretty girl.”
It’s impossible to neglect an order from the Olo'eyktan, especially when he says it so nicely. You rut your hips, desperate for more, the friction of Tonowari’s tongue and the steady pumping of his fingers putting out your fire. It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt — your muscles somehow relax and constrict at the same time, your cunt pulsing and throbbing manically, your frame shaking from overstimulation. It’s impossibly good, morally shameful, and Tonowari rides you through your orgasm, peppering soft kisses to your cunt.
When he finally pulls away, a string of his salvia follows him lewdly, and his eyes are star-stricken, dazed, fixated entirely on you. The pupil is so blown you can no longer see the light aqua of his eyes, and you struggle to catch your breath as he grabs your arms and forces your body to face the wall.
“Can I bond with you?” He’s breathless, his head lulling against the back of yours.
His breath fans against your neck, making the hair on your skin stand upwards, your tail thrashing with need. “You want to bond with me?” You ask, an edge of exasperation in your tone as Tonowari forces your legs further apart.
“Only if you wish,” he tells you softly, gently beginning to work his tip between your folds, gathering your slick. The sensation makes you feel all warm and gooey, and your hips involuntarily buck downwards to meet his length. “But if we do not bond, we will not be truly mated.”
“Then, please,” you whimper, “make the bond.”
You can feel him smile against the nape of your neck in response to your words. Your cunt is slick with wet, eager to take him in, but you know that his cock is incredibly thick, and his fingers have most certainly not prepared you enough.
Tonowari’s tip aligns with your hole, and your breath stills in your throat. He doesn’t move - doesn’t dare to raise his hips, his breathing even and steady as he raises his queue to yours, a throaty groan slipping past his lips as the tendrils begin to connect.
You feel nothing but him. You experienced nothing but him. Tonowari is everything, everywhere, and it’s like there’s now an inferno inside of you. You’re uncomfortably hot, and the need to take him becomes overwhelming, so you shuffle your hips down, but his hand raises to stop you.
“You’re not ready, little one,” Tonowari mumbles, his fingers gently massaging your hips. “It will hurt. You remember the stretching of your mouth a few weeks ago, yes?”
“Of course. It’s all I could think about.” You say honestly, your face flushing with warmth as he pinches you teasingly.
“It will stretch more than that. Burn more than that. Your cunt is not used to me yet.” He hisses as he gathers more of your slick, making sure his lavender tip is well-lubed. “I haven’t broken you in.”
“Then break me in.”
Tonowari’s teeth graze at the back of your neck — a warning, and it makes you whine, needy for him and his length. “Okay. Stay still, little one - it's going to hurt.”
Your mouth opens to respond, but the words never come out. Tonowari gently begins to coax his cock inside of you, your velvet walls swallowing the tip almost instantly, your ears pinning backwards in response to the pain.
It’s agonising. Tonowari can feel your pain through the bond, and he grunts, continuing to force his cock inside of you. “Breathe, little one,” he says, his hands gently rubbing your arms. “I don’t want you passing out on me.”
The stretch is unbearable. The last sparks of pleasure from your previous orgasm dwindles, and you’re left shocked with the sudden realisation that Tonowari might not even fit inside of you.
“Is it going in?" You ask desperately, your voice hoarse. A gentle kiss is placed to the back of your neck by the Olo'eyktan, a shiver shooting up your body in response.
“You’re taking me so well, little one," he hisses, his cock twitching with need as your cunt finally swallows the mushroom of his cock, sheathing him from the outside world.
"Hurts," you mumble, head lulling on his brawny chest. Tonowari's strong arms hold you in place, pain biting and pinching at every nerve inside of your body. "Hurts so bad."
"Relax," Tonowari says, his voice so low and rumbly it makes arousal rush to your core. You feel so warm and gooey, so broken, so wrong. You're mating someone whose practically the same age as your own father, but when he pushes inside of you an inch more, you find yourself uncaring.
A broken mewl slips past your lips as his hefty cock brushes against your g-spot, his fingers toying at your sensitive clit in an attempt to null you into relaxation. "Tonowari," you gasp, shocks of electric pulsing through your spine when his pace steadies, his cock unable to stretch your cunt any further.
His hands clutch at the plush flesh of your thighs, grunts slipping past his lips as he fucks into you. It's the sexiest thing you've ever heard — the sounds of his desperation merging with the sound of your squelching cunt, which echoes lewdly around the hut, makes you even needier. There's nothing worse than this feeling. The heat consumes you, burning like an inferno.
You whine, bucking down against his length, basking in the incredulous pain from the stretch of him.Your cunt feeling so tight and full, clenching down around his thick length. It feels like you're milking him, and Tonowari hisses, readjusting his hips as to not push himself over the edge.
The bond makes you feel everything. Every good thing about Tonowari washes through you, blinds you - you know every error of his ways, aware of all of his good and bad, and you take him. You rut down onto him, your hips shuffling in sync with his. Tonowari's fingers are careful and delicate as they circle around your clit, the bundle of overstimulated nerves sending you into an overdrive.
You're so wet, it's crazy. Your cunt is practically pulsing, desperate and needy to be used. And he won't do it. Tonowari is rutting into you at a delicate pace, his strokes smooth and even, as not to hurt you. If Tonowari went any faster, he'd rip you apart — at least, that's what it feels like, but you're so overwhelmed with need that you don’t care.
"I want more," you force out, whimpering as his teeth graze against your ears. "I need more."
"I want to fill you up, little one," Tonowari growls, his rumbling shooting throughout your body. "Can I? Is that what you would like?"
Warm, hot flashes. A painful stretch, a beautiful moment. His cock is nestled deep inside of you, brushing beautifully against the spongy spot inside of your cunt. You're so slick, so wet. His movements are smooth, easy, and your white ring of arousal paints the bottom of his length gorgeously.
"Yes, I'd like that," you mumble, crying out as Tonowari's fingers abandon your clit and grab onto your hair, his hips beginning to roll into you faster. "Please."
Everything feels so raw, so sensitive, so new. You're desperate, needy for an orgasm, and the familiar feeling of pressure pools in your lower belly. Warmth consumes you, drowns you, nips at every nerve, and you let go.
It feels perfect. Liberating, free. Hot, white flashes spark through you, your vision peppering with black stars. It feels like you've known Tonowari forever, and your legs shake, unable to hold yourself up any longer. He holds you, strong and safe, your Tonowari. Your mate, who pumps his own cum in you, your walls so tight and wet, the sound of his balls slapping lewdly against your cunt echoing throughout his hut, puts your fire out.
"Thank you, thank you, oh Ewya, thank you," you blabber, tears staining your dark-blue cheeks, unable to contain the overwhelming emotions which wash through you.
It's perfect. Everything's perfect. Even the strange sensation of Tonowari's sticky cum pooling out of you when he pulls out of your cunt, a gentle grunt slipping past his lips. There's a dull throbbing from the absence of him, and goosebumps rise on your skin when he brushes his nose against your shoulder, breathing in your scent.
"I see you,"" Tonowari says, gently smacking his cock against your plush ass, watching as the last of his cum dribbles out and paints your skin. "All of you."
"This was so wrong," you mumble, your face flushing red when his nose nuzzles into your neck.
"There is no going back. We are mated, now.” He presses a gentle kiss against the feverish skin of your neck. "You will make a fine Tsahìk."
You feel nothing but him when he finally prys away from your exhausted body. Tonowari smiles down at you, brushing your curls away from your face gently. His fixation on you makes you nervous - he is so big, towering over you by at least two feet, making you feel meek and small.
"I see you," you mumble back, eyes wide in surprise when he places a soft kiss to your lips.
How the hell are you going to explain to your family that you are now going to be Tsahìk?
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𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
pairing:dark!boss!steve rogers x virgin!fem reader
WORDCOUNT: 5.9k | warnings: dubious consent ! power imbalance (boss!steve, employee!reader) sexual naivety, height difference [6'6 steve, 5'3 reader], oral m receiving, rough p in v, misogyny, sexism, breeding kink, daddy kink, housewife kink, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, praise kink, spanking, captain kink, dumb baby reader (in steve's eyes), nonconsensual pregnancy, reader loves big mean stevie and loves when he taints her <3
PSA: YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. 18+ ! If any of these topics trigger you, please do not indulge in this content! This is a DARK!FIC, and is intended to come across as such. Minors, please dni - this content is 18+ and is under my #WOMNSFW tag.
summary: Steve Rogers is in deep need of a new personal assistant. You, an intern for Stark who often loiters around the Avengers Compound, put yourself forward for the position. You believe working under the Captain America will help you to get in good graces throughout your career. Little do you know, being America’s golden boy’s personal assistant means doing a little more than rummaging through files and writing letters.
—
So pretty, so perfect, so poised. Steve Rogers sits back comfortably in his chair, his eyes trained on you, never leaving, not even to acknowledge the poor waitress who puts his beer down in front of him. You speak proper, each word flowing from your mouth with purpose, your speech coherent, and your voice confident.
It makes Steve’s cock twitch in his trousers as he watches you. Your gaze on him doesn’t linger, but you do flinch when he reaches towards his beer too quickly. It makes his stomach flip, and he tries to hold back the hiss that threatens to slip past his lips. He knows he’s America’s Golden Boy, and that he’s supposed to be better than this; but he was raised in the 1930’s, and his ideals surrounding women never really fizzled out.
Your voice fades back in, and as you address him, it snaps Steve out of his train of thought. “So, I’m sure now that we’re well acquainted with each other, Captain Rogers—“
“Please. Just call me Steve. We’ve known one another long enough.”
He quirks a brow as your cheeks flood over in red, before beckoning you to continue your speech. “Well, then, Steve,” you swallow thickly, your voice dropping a few octaves, and Steve senses that he’s embarrassed you. “Now that we’re well - uh, better - acquainted, I hope that you can consider me for the position of your personal assistant.”
“What?” Steve’s blue eyes bore into yours, and they make you brood in anxiety. You feel childish, sitting in front of him in a flowery dress, at what could somewhat be considered an interview, asking to work for him. Perhaps you should’ve dressed nicer, more work appropriate? Yet, before you can blubber on, Steve continues; “doll, if you wanted to work for me, you could’ve just said. Did you do all of this to ask for the position?”
He blinks at you. Embarrassment washes over you like a tsunami wave as you blink back at him. Of course, you could’ve just said you wanted to work for him - you feel naive ever thinking otherwise. Steve’s not a stranger, you practically work with him every day, and he'd be more than enthusiastic to hear you out. He's not one of. the guys at work who ignore women and everything they have to say. He’s nice enough to always say hello to you and sometimes buy you coffee, and flowers if you were down. He's one of the good ones!“I thought it might’ve been inappropriate to ask you whilst you were training.” You shoot him a small smile, trying to ignore how the upwards tug of his lips makes your skin rise with goosebumps.
“Does Stark know you’re applying for this role?”
"He’s actually the one who suggested it.”
Steve takes a long sip of his drink. He stares at you over the rim of the glass, watching you squirm and ponder over his answer. He already knows the answer to your question, but watching you shuffle in your seat and act silly in front of him makes his cock throb, and he enjoys the feeling. You’re so innocent, pressing against the table, wide-eyed, acting as though your tits aren’t pressed together and basically on display for him. The dress is so low-cut. It makes him want to take you right here.
Did you wear that just to get him riled up? “Well, I can’t think of anybody more suitable to fit the position. You know the Compound, you know my office, and I’ve noticed you get on well with higher authorities. You seem like a doting employee.” He kisses his teeth slightly, looking down at the table, before looking up at you through his lashes. He tries to hold back the smirk on his face as he speaks, but it’s impossible not to: “of course, you will also be expected to work somewhat more flexible hours. Later start times, later finishes. We won't always be in the office at the compound - a lot of my additional work files are at my personal home office, but I can always make you up a key to give you easier access."
“Of course,” you chirp, nodding at him enthusiastically. “I’m okay with longer hours, and I can work around you and what you need.”
Steve grins. “Perfect.”
—
It has been about three weeks since you left your position as an intern at Stark Industries and began working for Steve Rogers. It was an exhausting process at first; the sudden change in routine, the heavy workload, the unsociable hours, and Steve often worried you would change your mind. If you couldn't bend for this position, you would break, and he was incredibly worried you'd do the latter. Perhaps because he hadn’t seen you frown so often before, but during the first fortnight of working as his assistant, your lips were always somewhat tugged downwards, and you were always so busy, unable to even joke with him.
You soldiered on, though. Managing to catch up to months worth of missed calls, avoided emails, old paperwork, and forgotten documents. Steve praised you every time you completed a task, and often he found you beaming up at him, prideful and flustered.
Yet, whilst peeking up from his desktop, he finds himself annoyed. You’re sitting quietly opposite him, noting down things and scheduling appointments, and he can’t help the twitch of his cock as he watches you do it. You're not incredibly busy anymore, and yet you're not engaging in any conversation with him. Steve knows you value professionalism, but he only really let you have this job because of his alternative motives when it comes to you.
His eyes flicker back to the computer screen, and then back to you. It's like before his brain can register what he's doing; he's doing it, but he doesn't mind. This is his office, after all, his space. You're his assistant, and if anything, you're supposed to assist him in doing it. His hands are wrapped around his thick, angry cock, and he pumps slowly, watching you intensely.
You're tapping away at your computer so innocently. Your eyes are wide and interested, and clearly whatever your scheduling for Steve has your entire attention because you don't even look up at him. He strokes his cock carefully, and slowly, and his breathing wavers as he runs a finger over his angry, red tip, using some of his precum for lube.
“You okay, Steve?” your voice fills the quiet room, and he looks over at you, his hands still wrapped around his cock. The naivety of your tone makes his cock twitch in his hands, and his pace slows. He makes eye contact with you, never breaking it as he slowly strokes his hand up and down his length. It makes him so much harder that you have no idea what he's doing, and he imagines what your lips would feel like wrapped around him.
“Fine, doll. Just a little sore.” Steve purses his lips as you nod. He meets your eyes, and you hold his gaze, concern plastering over your face.
You're so... modest. Completely unaware of what he's doing, and he loves it. Steve craves you; craves to taint the innocence which consumes you. You're too trusting for your own good, and one of these days, it's going to get you hurt.
Steve just needs to make sure it's him that hurts you, and nobody else.
“You do look awfully red, Steve.” You murmur across from him, concern painting your features. The heavy gaze your boss has on you makes you feel somewhat uncomfortable, but worry overrides any instinctive emotion. “Do you feel hot?”
Steve grunts in agreement with your question. He looks more disheveled than usual. His posture seems hunched, but he seems somewhat relaxed, and his gaze is hard and trained on you. You're unsure as to what's wrong - he's so red, it looks like he's burning up. Perhaps he has a fever, but you're sure the Super Soldier Serum ensures that he doesn't get ill. “Can I get you anything? Paracetamol? A glass of water?” you ask innocently, standing up from your desk chair, slowly walking towards him.
His computer monitor thankfully covers his crotch. Steve’s eyes don’t leave you, and it makes his cock leak when you softly begin to walk over to him. He’s almost certain you own nothing but inappropriate, seductive clothing; he’s seen more of your cleavage these past three weeks than he has anyone else’s, and it’s driving him crazy. The fact he’s managed to hold off from devouring you is insane, but he isn’t sure how much longer he can take.
Being the nice guy just doesn’t seem to be working. The hand which was stroking his cock stills, and he commands you to stop once you’re mere inches away, stood behind his monitor, so small he can hardly see you. “Do you own any appropriate clothing?”
His question is direct and his tone is reprimanding. Your knees wobble, and your head hangs slightly. Shame spreads throughout your body. “I didn’t realise this was inappropriate. My apologies.”
It’s unlike Steve to bark at you. Usually, he’s incredibly soft-spoken and considerate, yet it seems you’ve worn any patience he’s held for you thin. “Doll, every outfit you’ve worn this week has been low-cut and short.” He breathes, and your neck prickles with discomfort when you notice how dark and blown his pupils are. “I’ve been patient. I’ve been kind. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But I don’t think these kinds of… outfits would be appropriate elsewhere. You didn’t wear these outfits when interning for Stark.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” Your subordinate manner only makes his cock twitch more, and he’s thankful his hand is sheathing his cock, because the precum that trickles out of its covers his skin and not his trousers. “I’ll try to be more considerate next time.”
It’s painful to let go of his length, but he has to, and he shoves it back inside of his trousers and innocently buttons them up. “Are you wearing these suggestive outfits to get a rise out of me?”
You gasp. “No. Never. I - Sir, I aim to be as appropriate and considerate as possible. I’m sorry I’ve been misleading you.” Steve rises from his seat, and you swallow thickly, feeling incredibly small compared to your boss. You’ve often been close to him - side by side, brushing shoulders, but he’s always been soft-spoken and gentle, apologetic and genuinely caring. Now, it seems like his patience is worn thin, and as opposed to seeing a civilian Steve, you feel as though you're standing in front of a soldier. “I can go and change now if you want?”
“No.” His tone is so low it matches that of a growl, and you cower weakly as he towers over you. Fear pulsates in your being as you stare up at him, suddenly feeling incredibly unsafe, and your heart races in your chest. Steve would never hurt me, you remind yourself, he’s one of the good ones.
You open your mouth to speak, but Steve shushes you. His finger splays over your lips, and you feel scolded and childlike. “I think you do it for attention.” His finger pushes against you, as does his body, as he stalks forward and you shuffle backward, trying to keep any space between the two of you. “You know, it’s been hard staying silent for this long. Watching you from afar, never knowing what to say or do.” His hot breath fans your ear, and Steve’s nostrils flare. “Trying to be a gentleman. Buying you coffee and flowers and cards when you were working at the Compound as a way to be friendly and nice. But I don’t think you want that.”
“I’m sorry, Steve.” You squeak out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Steve’s fingers gently press against your skin, wiping away any that spill, his skin icy against your own. “I-I’ve appreciated the gifts. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” He asks, his eyes shooting down at you. You nod your head eagerly, staring up at him, trying to ignore how the dark look in his eyes makes your stomach flip. “I don’t think you’re truly sorry. I gave you this job to be my personal assistant. I expected more of you. You’re dressing as whore, and you can’t even apologize correctly.”
You swallow thickly, staring up at him. “‘M sorry. I haven’t meant to present myself that way,” your voice wavers. “What would y-you deem a suitable apology, Steve?”
“Captain.” Steve’s fingers find their way into your hair, and you squeak slightly as he tugs at it. “You only get to call me Steve when you’ve been good, which you haven’t.”
“How should I apologize, Captain?”
Your voice is an incredulous whisper. The subordination you show drives Steve crazy, and it takes everything in him not to force your mouth open and push you onto his cock. No, he needs to coax you into it - make you agree that this is the best way to apologize. Any other way wouldn’t suffice.
It’s as though you can’t believe this is happening - and in a way, Steve can’t, either. He’s always imagined this happening - having you begging him to tell you how to do something in a way that’s deemed fit in his eyes, having you be in pain whilst doing it. He curses slightly, before breathing out, “use that pretty little mouth of yours to worship me.”
“What?”
“I said, ‘use that pretty little mouth of yours to worship me’. Don’t expect me to repeat myself again.” He warns, blinking down at you, before muttering, “you’ve dressed like a whore, sweetheart. I think it’s only fair the Captain treats you as such.” His thumb drags down your lips, and you look up at him with such hesitation it makes his balls throb. He feels as though the look on your face could make him cum already.
Warmth floods over your cheeks. It feels wrong as Steve’s palms press heavily on your shoulders, the weight of him coaxing you down. A shudder leaves you as he forces you onto your knees in front of him, and you stare at his trousers, which are tight by the groin. “Captain, I don’t think -“ you swallow thickly, shaking as he comes down to unbutton his trousers, and flinching once his hands clasp yours, “-I don’t think this is appropriate.”
Your voice comes out in a hushed whisper, and he glares down at you, relishing in your embarrassment. Your eyelashes are wet and tears prickle your eyes still, “You’re on your knees now, doll.” He huffs, blowing out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. Your hands shake as he guides them to his trousers. “You might as well get on with it.”
“No I - I don’t want to.” Your voice wavers as he uses your hands to pry his cock out of his trousers, which is an angry red and seeping with cum, and you feel like scurrying away from it. “I-I haven’t ever done anything like this before.” Steve is stronger than you and the grip he’s got on your wrists makes you feel as though they will snap, so you decide not to, rather cowering away from his length in fear.
“Are you a virgin?” His question makes your head shoot up in embarrassment, your eyes wide and distraught, and he groans. “Oh my god, you’re a fucking virgin.”
“I never said I was,” you mutter, yelping when his hands strike you against the face. Fresh tears fall over old tear stains, and you flinch as his fingers splay over your chin.
He tuts. “Don’t lie to me. Are you a virgin?”
“Yes,” you murmur, shameful, eyes watery as you stare up at him. You sniffle, thankful for his gentle touch, which replaces the cruelty of his hands seconds ago. It makes your heart bloom with warmth as he brushes your face softly with his fingers, although he’s wiping away the pain he’s caused.
“My pretty little baby’s a virgin,” Steve coos, and the tone of his voice makes pressure form in your lower belly. “This mouth has never been around anyone’s cock before? Ever?”
There’s almost a deluded tone in his voice as he presses his tip against your lips. You quiver below him, your eyes trained on him as he pushes himself in your mouth. It feels wrong to do this with him - it feels exploitative, and whilst you opt to pull away from him, the wetness in your panties warns you otherwise. You’re enjoying this, and it’s making you feel terrible. You’re letting your boss take advantage of you and you love it.
You'd be lying if you denied the fact that you found Steve attractive. You had a thing for blonds, and the Golden Boy reputation he had made butterflies form in your belly. The fact he was so unlike what he seems makes your thighs clench and your pussy throb. A Golden Boy with an urge to taint; and somehow, you want to be tainted.
You hum against his cock, and it makes Steve’s stomach explode with heat. The wet of your tongue and the hot of your mouth is everything he’s ever wanted and more, and as your teeth scrape against him, he hisses, trying to hold back the smack he wants to deliver to you. You’re not ready for that yet; you’re a virgin, a sweet girl who needs taking care of. He needs to be gentle with you. “Nuh-uh-uh, doll. Cover those teeth of yours and hollow your cheeks - yes, like that, baby."
Steve breathes heavily as you take it in. It feels intrusive to your mouth as you suck on his cock, your tongue swirling up and down his tip. His hands make their way into your hair, and he gently begins to slide your head up and down, going at a quicker pace. It makes your belly ache with warmth as he does it, the feeling of his hands wrapped in your hair making you feel surprisingly... horny? It makes your face flush when you realize you're enjoying being used by Steve, and you eagerly begin to run your tongue up and down his length, tracing his veins and making sure to pay extra attention to his tip.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, his balls slapping against your chin uncomfortably, “make your daddy’s cock nice and wet.” Steve’s pace quickens, and more and more of his cock forces its way into your mouth until your eyes are pricking with tears and you’re almost certain his length is going to suffocate you. Gag after gag follows through with each desperate thrust of his hips, and you clasp your hands around his thigh, looking up at him, eager to breathe. He doesn’t let you.
“My perfect little girl. Let daddy cum in your mouth and he’ll forgive you for dressing like such a whore.”
It’s not like you’ve got much of a choice anyway. In Steve's eyes, he's waited long enough to paint you in his cum, and it doesn’t take long for him to finish. He pulls out slightly, spewing cum over your cheeks and lips, grunting with approval at the sight of you. His innocent little personal assistant, who has never felt a man’s cock before today, has just had her throat fucked as though she were a fleshlight. Steve groans, steadying himself by using your head for support, and your nose crinkles as you swallow his cum which had painted your tongue.
It doesn't taste that bad.
“Best you clean yourself up.” Steve murmurs as you clamber up, knees shaking, the heat between your legs throbbing. “I don’t want my personal assistant to look so... defiled whilst she’s working alongside me.”
“Yes, Captain.”
As you attempt to scurry off to the bathroom, Steve stops you. “I want to make a few things clear about your position as my personal assistant, doll.”
You nod your head, uncertain as to what he might say next. The sight of you covered in his cum makes his heart bloom with pride, and he realises that he has finally got you where he wants you to be. “Your role as my personal assistant is to assist me with anything I deem necessary. Whether that be sexual or otherwise. You got that?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Good girl.”
—
Your body has been aching and sore for days. Forcing yourself up from your desk chair, you jolt slightly at the sudden pain which shoots up through your spine. You look away from Steve’s hot gaze, which makes you feel flustered and funny, and you begin to flip through pages in your folder, desperate to keep yourself occupied and not draw too much attention from Steve.
“Come here, doll.” His voice is gentle, his arms wide and open, urging you in.
You nod your head, opting to agree. You've become conditioned to his sexual advances, and he accepts when you're not in the mood, saying that he doesn't want to pressure you. Steve is a good guy in that way; he wants you to move at your own pace. You only have to do this for a few more months or so, as that’s how long your contract is.
Steve taps his lap. You comply, carefully seating yourself atop of him, crinkling your nose when he gets too close. He notices, but he doesn’t care, leaning backward slightly and brushing a curl away from your face.
“What have I done for you to hate me?” his once confident voice is quiet, oozing with rejection.
You blink at him. “I - I don’t hate you.”
Steve hums, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. You shuffle uncomfortably in his lap, looking up at him with big, doe eyes, and it makes his cock twitch. You’re so innocent, so friendly, a big baby that needs protecting from the world. All Steve wants to do is protect you and keep you safe. “You don’t look at me the same anymore,” he notes quietly. “You used to look at me like I was a savior before you started working under me.”
You shuffle uncomfortably, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves slightly to get comfortable, and your breath hitches in your throat when his clothed crotch rubs against yours. “I still think of you as a savior, Stevie,” you murmur quietly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.
You’ve worked for Steve long enough now to know that the way around difficult conversations is to stroke his ego. His hand snakes around your back, and he traipses his fingers up and down your back slowly. “No bra, huh? What have I told you about dressing appropriately?”
“S-sorry, Steve.”
“Mmm, I forgive you, baby.” His hands fall to your skirt, and his fingers slowly ride up them. The material parts with the moving of his hands, and your body flushes with heat when his finger slides up and down your slits. He tuts. “No underwear, either? This'll be a little harder to forgive.”
You squeak slightly as Steve pushes a finger inside of you. “Y-you asked me not to wear underwear when I'm around you.”
“Nuh-uh-uh. I don’t remember that, doll. Don’t make things up to try and make yourself better off.” Except, he does remember it because he practically commanded you to strip your underwear off the last time you wore some when working alongside him. But you don’t need to remember that. Steve wants you to believe everything you do for him is because you want to do it, not because he’s told you to.
“Really?” you squeak as he curls his finger inside of you, ensuring he hits against your spongy spot. You try to ignore the heaviness of Steve’s gaze, and you swallow dryly, stuttering as Steve slips another digit in, beginning to fuck you faster with a ‘come-forth’ motion.
“Yeah, doll. Maybe you just wanted your daddy to have easier access to this pretty pussy of yours. I know how much you like getting that little pussy touched.”
His fingers slow down inside of you, and he gazes down at you with a raised brow. You protest, trying to roll against his fingers, but he grabs your thighs and shakes his head. “Bad girls don’t get to feel good.”
“I’m not bad," you whine, and Steve shakes his head in response.
“You lied to daddy. Said he wanted you to wear no underwear. You said it like I’ve been forcing you not to wear underwear when it was your decision.”
The sharpness in his tone makes you recoil, and you still your lower half. against him, not wanting to make him anymore angrier than he already is. “I-I’m sorry. It was my decision. I’m sorry for lying.”
Steve sucks in a breath through his teeth. “You know, I’ve been holding back these past weeks. I wanted to break you in.” He pulls his fingers out of you, and you whine in protest, but your sounds are muffled when he shoves them inside of your mouth. You suck instinctively, and he groans against you. “I’ve been wanting to use that pretty pussy of yours for so long, doll. Been wanting to defile you and make you mine.”
Before you can even react, the tip of his cock is pressing against your slits. “I’ve wanted to fuck you and fill you up with my cum for so long now.” His voice is a growl, and you feel frozen in place, beginning to slowly shake your head. “Fuck you full of my babies. And I know you want that, too.” He groans as he presses harsh kisses against your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin.
“No, Steve,” you breathe heavily as he holds you into place, your own body no match for the strength of his. “I- I don’t want that. I'm not ready for a baby."
“But you are. You just don’t know it yet.” His cock pushes into you, and you let out a whimper, struggling against him. Your walls sheathe him, and you let out a pained squeak. "Look at how well you take me, baby. You were made for me. You’re so wet for me. Look at you, trying to deny your rightful place as my subordinate. My pretty little girl.”
He forces his cock into you slowly. Your walls squeeze around him, sheathing his cock so well, and you whimper, squeezing your nails into his shoulders so hard you feel as though you're going to leave behind crescent moons. "No, Steve," you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut, desperately trying to get rid of the burn between your leg. "'t hurts. Stevie, I'm not ready."
"You're ready, baby," he seethes, throwing his head back slightly as he pushes his hips up further. "Your little virgin pussy is hugging my cock so fucking tight."
A mewl escapes you as his cock brushes up against the spongy spot inside of you. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, and mascara begins to brew below your lash line. Steve stares at you, his gaze passionate, wondering how he ever got so lucky. Not only has he got you exactly where he needs you, but he's also ruining you, tainting you for other men.
The only way he can truly ensure other men will leave you alone is to fill that belly of yours with his baby, so that's exactly what he intends to do. "Does that feel good?" he whispers, kissing your cheek softly. "You feel so full, baby?"
"So full, Steve," you whine, trying to adjust yourself to gather more comfort. Your walls rub against his cock as you adjust, and it feels kind of... good, so you do it again. Your hips slowly roll atop of him, and you whimper to yourself, pain mixing with pleasure.
Steve lets you bounce on him. It's a slow pace, and it doesn't hurt, though it feels unnatural to have something this big inside of you. It's not that you're entirely sexually naive - you've masturbated before, but this is completely different. Steve is huge, and with every roll of your hips, you can feel him. There's no room for escape, and your stomach flips as you throw your arms around his neck. "Steve," you breathe, eyes flittering shut as the coil inside of you threatens to break and snap, your toes curled in desperation. It feels as though you're just inches away from experiencing pure ecstasy, but you can't reach it, and it's making you so frustrated, you feel as though you could cry. "H-help me, Steve."
"You want Daddy's help when getting off?" he coos, brushing a curl away from your face. You stare down at him, biting your lip and nodding eagerly, and he groans slightly. So cute, so small, so ready for him. This is how you should be - begging for his help, needing him, relying on him. You're just a woman, after all; you need a big, strong man like Steve to take care of you.
His hips thrust up, and it's incredibly painful at first. Steve's pace is nothing compared to yours - you were being slow and gentle with your body, and he just wants to ruin it. His hips smash into you, his cock sliding in and out, and he peppers harsh kisses against your neck. You mewl against him, pressing up against his chest to feel him, your toes curling in your flats, your eyes dazed, mouth gaping. You look like a picture-perfect image, and Steve grunts as he fucks you, wanting to tip you over the edge.
It doesn't take long until the coil snaps. You murmur and shake against him, your thighs clenched as you cum, squirting all over his cock, drenching his balls and trousers. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you yell against him, his cock relentlessly fucking you throughout your orgasm.
"I'm gonna fill you with my babies," he growls, "drown your pussy with my fucking cum."
"No," you cry out, unable to move as he thrusts himself into you; again and again and again. You feel so helpless, so small and weak against him, and you stare up at him. His pupils are dark and blown, and his Adam's apple bobs desperately, his nostrils flaring as his cock twitches inside of you. "Please, pull out!"
"I don't think so, baby," he grunts, and with one final thrust of his hips, he finishes inside of you. Your walls squeeze him simultaneously, and he lets out a low, powerful groan, as he coaxes your walls with his cum. "Gotta make you a nice little housewife. Gonna have you popping out all of my babies."
Steve brushes away the tears which slip down your cheeks. He doesn't even realize how hard he's been holding you until he lets go, your arms riddled with handprint marks which he's sure will bruise. "Don't cry, doll," he murmurs, "you knew what came with the job."
"No, I didn't," you sniffle, pressing your head into his neck. It's wrong how his warmth and his smell act as a safety valve for you when he's the reason you're so upset. "I would've never - I would've never gotten into this if I knew what you expected from me."
A gentle sob racks your body, and Steve looks down at you, caressing your face gently. "Baby, stop crying. You're ruining that little face of yours." In honesty, Steve's patience is running thin. He's been good to you; caring, doting, paying you well for an easy job, and this is how you react? You cry into his arms after he tells you he's going to pump you full of his children? He's Captain America, for God's sake. You should be begging for it. "Just - Jesus fucking christ," he huffs as you continue to cry, grabbing your face harshly, and the sudden grip shocks you. "Stop crying. If you're going to speak, at least try and be fucking coherent."
Nodding your head, you wipe your eyes, which are tender and you assume, red. "I'm not ready for this," your voice shakes as you speak, and Steve almost feels a bit sorry at the sight of you. "I- I don't want this."
"Only good girls get what they want," Steve states plainly, staring at your disheveled face. He certainly got what he wanted - you look ruined, and you feel it, too. He imagines his cum is mixed with a bit of your blood; what, with him defiling you and all, he probably broke your hymen as well. The thought makes him grin to himself, and he utters, "I don't think you've been good, so you don't get what you want, baby."
"I'm sorry! I just - this doesn't seem like a fair punishment! I don't want this!" You cry out as Steve delivers a harsh smack to your ass, and you gaze up at him pathetically through your lashes as he tuts.
"I don't care if you think it's fair or not. You've been teasing me ever since you were an intern at Stark Industries, doll. I've been waiting to breed you for that long," his voice vibrates against you, and you shake your head, ashamed that you even thought you could get away with arguing against him. He's the Captain, and he has all of the control. "Anyway, you're just a dumb little baby. You have no idea what you want right now. But I do. I know what's good for you. Don't you trust me, baby?"
#steve rogers#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x reader#steve x y/n#marvel avengers#the avengers#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x female reader#chris evans#dark steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers x y/n#steve drabble#dark steve rogers#captain america#captain america x you#steve rogers series#oneshot#dark chris evans#womnsfw#1k 💕
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𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 - 2/2
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
pairing: dark!ex-boss!steve rogers x fem!reader
WORDCOUNT: 4.6k warnings: dubious consent ! - sexually naive reader, rough p in v, oral sex [m + f receiving] - height difference [6'6 steve, 5'3 reader] -, misogyny, sexism: breeding kinks -daddy kink, captain kink. choking, pregnant!reader: spanking, gaslighting- especially shein at the end LOL - emotional abuse, assimilation, kidnapping slight mention - steve gets his happy ending
PSA: YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS CONTENT IS CONSIDERED MATURE. 18+ ! If any of these topics trigger you, please do not indulge in this content! This is a DARK!FIC, and is intended to come across as such. Minors, please dni - this content is 18+ and is under my #WOMNSFW tag.
summary: Once Captain America's assistant, you're now the up-coming mother of his child. After Steve's jealousy finally becomes out of hand, you snap at him, only to realise that's the very last thing you should do to a Super Soldier. He decides that your defiance lights a match to spark the fire of you being a brilliant mother.
-
It’s not like Steve to get this riled up. It’s just difficult watching you discuss initiative with a rookie rather than paying attention to him. He watches as your small hand falls down to brush over your stomach, wondering if your fingers splay over it as a means to reassure yourself that the baby growing inside of you is okay.
Jealousy isn’t a good look on Steve. He’s not a complete airhead - he knows dames usually don’t like it when a man gets stupidly possessive and starts trying to control them, but he just can’t help it. You’re his - literally. Not only are you literally his personal assistant, but you’re also his fiancé and the mother of his child.
“Sweetheart, don’t you think it’s time we get home now?” His voice booms across the training room, his thick hands coming up to massage your shoulders softly. “This much standing can’t be too good for the baby.”
You're terrible at analysis, Steve realizes. You hadn't even noticed he had approached you - evident by how his touch makes you flinch. He feels your nerves jolt beneath him, but to the regular human eye, nothing appears wrong. Steve admits that you’ve grown incredibly wary of his touch recently, only engaging in displays of affection when around other people. In the comfort of your shared home, though, it’s like when he touches you, your body slithers with disgust.
“I am growing slightly tired.” You throw an apologetic smile over at the rookie you were speaking to, all whilst leaning into Steve's touch willingly. He doesn’t miss the prickles of goosebumps that ripple up your skin, the fear which prickles at the back of your neck. He frowns - has his touch ever been unloving, unkind? “I think it’s best I go home and rest up."
Your mutter a few apologies, which forces an eye roll from Steve. Why are you apologizing to people who aren't even worth your time? Frustrated, he begins to steer you out of the compound quickly, irritated as you shuffle away from his touch as though his mere skin is poison.
The drive back to your shared home is silent. Steve is seething as he drives, his grip on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are beginning to turn white. He’s tried to be patient and understanding - he really has. But he’s blessed you and he doesn’t understand why you’re so hell-bent on rejecting him and then repenting as though he's a curse. You’re throwing tantrums similarly to what a toddler would, sitting next to him in silence and stewing in unspoken anger, and Steve can’t help but feel slightly hurt by your actions.
Is he not good enough for you? Is that it? Or have you grown tired of him? He has been more than kind, allowing you to still attend work despite the fact you’re growing his child. He has bent and adapted so you do not break, shrugging away every single urge to force tradition upon you.
Perhaps what you need is a sense of tradition. Maybe that will stop the fiery defiance you display, both in public and at home.
“We’re home.” Steve’s voice booms loudly in the car, and you stir from your position, your eyes fluttering open at him.
“Good. I’m tired,” you sigh heavily, forcing yourself out of the car quickly before Steve could come around and open your door for you. “Today’s been exhausting.”
“How so?” Steve almost sneers, grabbing your bag from the car and slamming the driver’s side door shut loudly. “All you do all day is make appointments for me and flirt with other men. It can’t be that difficult.”
You groan, waiting for Steve to unlock the front door before following him into your home. “I don’t flirt with other men, Steve. Stop being so delusional."
You drawl his name out with such annoyance it makes Steve’s jaw twitch. “Really? So you weren't all over that rookie earlier today?” He turns away in annoyance, flicking the light to the living area on. The house keys sway in his fingers, and he chuckles dryly, “give me a break, sweetheart. You were practically begging him to fuck you.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing exasperatedly. “So what if I was begging him to fuck me, Steve?" Your hands fall to your stomach, holding it protectively whilst staring at him with furrowed brows.
Holding something he made.
He stills. “Excuse me?”
The calmness in Steve’s tone makes your blood run cold. You try to ignore how he stops still in the archway of the living area; how his large frame tenses and his fists clench. You suddenly feel as though all the air has been sucked out of the room, and you stumble out (in one last act of pitiful defiance), “so what if I was begging him to fuck me, Steve?“
The drawl of his name is what finally makes him snap. It’s like he sees red - like he can’t believe how you’re actually treating him, despite everything that he’s done for you. Steve’s palm is quickly splayed across your throat, and he growls, sounding similar to that of a wild animal as he begins to try and force you to your knees.
It's not like you don't go down without a fight. You try to resist, somewhat, anyway, but you can’t, because he is so, so much stronger than you are and it’s fucking scary. His hands are so strong that they diminish any force of fight you had within you, as trying to resist him makes you actually feel like your shoulders are going to snap. You whimper pathetically as you kneel before him, staring up at his pupils, which are blown and blackened.
You know better than to irritate him by now, so why do you keep doing it?
“You’re mine,” Steve snaps, his blue eyes icy as he pulls his zipper down. The sharp noise makes you flinch beneath him, trying to shuffle away, but the grip he has on the nape of your neck is tight and holds you in place. “You must be fucking crazy if you think I’d ever let another man touch you. If you think I’ll ever let another man look at you again without consequence.”
His fingers grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open and you cry out. Steve is visibly angry - furious is perhaps a better word, given the fact he’s practically shaking as grips your face whilst also aggressively pulling his thick, hard cock out of his boxers. “You’re going to have to learn how to put that mouth of yours to better use, doll. It's wasted on those shitty opinions of yours, anyway."
Hands roughly grabbing at your hair, pulling your face towards his cock, you have not much choice but to take him in your mouth. It’s intrusive - terribly so, and Steve manhandles you so roughly it makes your tears prick with tears, but it shamefully sends a throbbing to your pussy. You clench your legs together as you take him, choking as he slides in and out of your mouth until you’re a blubbering mess below him, spit and tears painting your cheeks as he fucks your throat relentlessly.
“Who do you belong to?” He grunts out, pulling so hard at your hair your head pulses. Steve’s hips stutter as you choke around him, your eyes doe-like and wide, covered in wet mascara. “Who the fuck do you belong to?”
“Y-you, Steve,” you choke out as he pulls out of your mouth with an uncomfortable POP!, relishing in the breaths he’s allowing you. “I belong to you.”
Steve's cock is so big it's actually painful. Your throat constricts around his cock as he forces your head down again, grumbling out, “I bet that rookie couldn’t treat you like this. I bet he couldn’t fuck you full of his babies like I have, doll.”
You whine beneath him as he continues to use your throat. Steve is driven entirely by his own pleasure, tiring quickly of your pathetic crying around his cock. With angry thrusts of his hips, Steve watched you gag around him, his cock twitching in your throat as you take all of him in; every inch, and his length is actually somewhat visible in your neck. And it’s driving him crazy- so crazy that he can’t hold back anymore, his rough hands grasping at your hair as he finishes, painting your tongue with his cum.
Steve watches as you choke and thrash against him in an attempt to get away, because his cock and his cum is stuffing your mouth in ways it’s never been stuffed before. It’s suffocating you, and blackness pricks at the corner of your vision - you’re just about to pass out before you Steve mercifully pulls his cock out of your mouth with a disgusting squelch and delivers you a hard slap.
The stinging from his hand sends a sheepish insatiable throbbing to your core that you know will never be satisfied. The tingle which tickles your core makes you clench your thighs, knowing no matter how hard you repent, tonight he will not forgive you.
“This throat is mine to use,” he seethes, his tip still leaking as he presses his cock against your cheek, satisfied with the discomfort that flutters throughout your features. “Say it.”
“This throat is yours to use,” your bottom lip quivers, your eyes spilling tears, some of which fall on Steve’s cock. And it’s shameful how wet you are - how the heat between your legs has grown uncomfortable and how you’re certain your pussy is slick with arousal because somehow it’s all you can focus on. You melt into a weeping puddle, your hands tiny compared to Steve’s cock, desperately trying to push his length away during your tantrum.
It doesn’t work. If anything, it makes him much so much harder - his cock throbs against the skin of your face, and you sniffle as he speaks. “Good girl,” Steve’s praises, his fingers curling in your hair, watching as your eyebrows contort in pain as he tugs gentler than you deserve. “Look at your pretty little face. Covered all over with cum and tears.” He coos, smoothing your hair down gently, a soft pang of love throbbing within his heart.
Your face flushes red, and you blink up, your wet, long lashes batting up at him ridiculously. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, your throat incredibly sore from his invasion, your hands desperately clasping at his thighs, and he watches you in amusement, unable to bite back the excitement as you brush your lips over his length meekly. “Please forgive me, Steve, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know if I can, honey,” he tells you, his big hands making gentle, loving motions in your hair. It’s a sharp contrast to the aggressiveness of his touch moments beforehand, but you bask in it nonetheless. “You were flirting with that rookie, baby, you said you wanted to fuck him. How am I supposed to forgive you for that?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to fuck him!” you whine, and Steve shakes his head.
“That’s what I heard, baby.”
You sniffle, and Steve shakes his head. Why do you have to lie to him? He doesn’t like making you upset - he certainly doesn’t like hurting you. His pretty girl, sitting in front of him with raw, red knees and an even rawer throat, whose ass is yet to be spanked until the pain renders you unable to move. He hates it, and he wishes this pain on nobody, especially not his little girl. Steve is meant to protect you, not hurt you. He’s your saviour, the one man in your life you can rely on and trust with all of your secrets, and yet you lie to him, again and again and again.
Steve hates making you upset, but he loves watching you cry. Conflict tugs at him from the inside, his thumb making gentle strokes in your hair as you speak to him. “I’m sorry, I really am,” you finally say, sinking beneath him obediently. “I didn’t mean any of it. It’s - its probably just the hormones.”
Steve hums in agreement. “It probably is, doll, but just in case it isn’t…I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” He sucks in a breath, muttering, “let’s see how sorry you really are, doll.”
It takes everything in Steve not to finish all over again when he pulls you atop of him and you gasp in shock, his big hands forcing your hips down, and before you’re even aware of it, your walls are sheathed around his cock. Tight - so tight, and wet, too: ridiculously so. Shameful squelching sounds flood the living room as Steve fucks up into you with long, even thrusts.
The mewls that escape your throat as your small fingers dig into Steve's frame makes him want to impregnate you al over again. If he could, he would - your pussy is addicting, gripping him just right. You’re like Goldilocks. Your walls are so tight that you're practically milking his cock for his cum -, and he bites your neck slightly as you shake and tremble against him, your first orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Hot flashes come over you as your core tightens, the coil inside of you snapping- your little legs shake and you hold onto Steve for support, who rides you through your orgasm.
“This pussy is mine,” he practically growls, his fingers clawing around your throat, palm splayed against it uncomfortably. You thrash wildly when he squeezes, but Steve doesn’t care: you don’t deserve him, not at all, not one bit - he is Captain America! He can do what he wants!
“This pussy is yours,” you rasp as his cock nestles against the spongy spot inside of your pussy, your hips desperately rolling to get any source of friction. “Please, Steve! It’s all yours! Wanna cum again! Wanna cum!”
As you cry desperately, your frame pressing up against his, Steve grins, thrusting up into you painfully slow. The motion is enough, though. It sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine, and your coil tightens - it grows tighter every single time he moves, the brush of his cock against the insanely sensitive spot inside of you making your legs quiver.
“You love it. I know you love it, sweetheart. Being filled with my baby. It makes you real wet, doesn’t it, doll?" His voice is gentle, and he peppers soft kisses against your neck, eradicating the pain he had left behind earlier.
"Mhm. I love it and I love you, Steve," you agree eagerly, your hands digging into his shoulders, your timid body taking every slow, dragged thrust of his. “I’m so close.”
Your whimpers make his cock twitch inside of you. You sound heavenly - angelic, the gentle moans that slip past your lips making him wish he could just give you his baby all over again. And he will, after you’ve had this one - god, he can’t wait to pump you full of his babies again and again and again. Steve's hands grip your hips gently, his eyes fluttering shut as your velvety walls squeeze him again, so soft and perfect, and he lets out a hearty moan which makes the knot inside of you tighten.
"I want it," you whimper, your nose brushing against his, and you gaze up at him through wet lashes. “Please.”
Your begging makes Steve bloom with pride, and at your words, he thrusts up into you harder. It's not long before you're bouncing quickly atop him, mewls and cries of pleasure slipping past your lips. Your curls fall messily in front of your eyes, and he sucks in a breath at the ecstatic state of you: you’re desperate - so close to your edge, again. Your cheeks are warm and messy, and the sounds of slick bouncing off of the living room walls makes you feel more cockdrunk than you already are.
And then you begin to come undone atop of him.
He does, too. Steve loves it. Your velvet walls squeeze him so tightly that you’re milking him - you take in every drop of his cum, and as his hips still inside of you, Steve places gentle kisses against your nose.
Your big, beautiful eyes stare back at him, your hips juddering against his. You pant, your nails digging into his chest as you steady yourself atop of him. For a second, you can’t believe it - you really let Steve use you again.
But he loves you. And then conflict tugs at you all over again, because he is a good guy, incredibly so! He’s Captain America, his job is literally to protect you - and hasn’t he done exactly that? You’re the most protected person in America right now, considering the fact you’re pumped full of his babies.
“Do you trust me, sweetheart?”
You nod. “I- I do, Steve.” Your voice trembles, leaning your body weight against his, unable to hold yourself up.
“Good girl.” He brushes his nose against yours, smiling as you tremble against him. “That’s all you’ll ever have to do.”
As Steve carries you to bed, tucking you in tightly, he smiles down at you. He’s glad he’s finally changed the locks, and he’s glad that you don’t have one of the new keys.
He can keep you here now until he thinks you’re ready to go. Until you’re ready to accept your place as Mrs. America.
—
What you used to call kidnapping, Steve called assimilation.
You’re not locked in his house, unable to go home, unable to contact any family or friends. No, you’re just in an educational program, learning how to be a perfect housewife. That’s what Steve says, anyway, snickering away to himself as he does.
It’s lonely, and it’s scary. Yet you have nothing to fear, especially when Steve comes home. He wraps you in his arms, engulfing you in his scent, pressing you against his brawny body as though you’re his world. You breathe him in, clutching at him desperately, thankful that he’s coming home safe and sound.
It’s been so long the thought of escaping no longer even brushes your thoughts, but still, Steve wonders if you have realised your place. He can’t risk letting you out if you haven’t - but then again, who would believe you? A pregnant woman whose husband represents all of the stars and stripes?
Still, he can’t help but worry about you. Have you assimilated? Have you learnt? It’s a question that Steve isn’t sure of the answer, but as you curl into his big frame, he believes that you have. Perhaps you’ve finally learnt it’s easier to comply with the Captain’s orders than to defy them.
“How has your day been, Steve?” you ask, nudging your head into the corner of his neck as he presses his palms against your stomach. He’s big and warm, comforting and strong, peppering gentle kisses against your face, praising you for being such a gorgeous girl.
You’re bulging now. Practically ready to give birth at any second. It sends a gentle ache to Steve’s length, his lips pressing lovingly against your stomach. He loves coming home to you. He always has, even when you defied him and cried and begged him to just treat you like a colleague again. It’s selfish - Steve knows it’s selfish - but he just couldn’t ever go back to not knowing you. Now that he has you, he can’t let you go. Ever.
“Work was fine. Buck and I had to do introduction training with some rookies. They didn’t even leave a scratch.” Steve laughs, hooking his fingers in your sweatpants, tugging them down slightly so your entire stomach is on display. “How was your day, mama? Productive?”
It is slightly distracting as Steve kisses your belly. You scrunch your eyebrows in concentration, your fingers resting in his blond locks. “I painted some of the nursery.” You say shyly, face flushing as he begins to murmur sweet nothings to your stomach. “Just did the trims. There was a few deliveries that came, too, but they were too heavy for me to move. Didn’t wanna hurt myself.”
“Good girl.” Steve’s breath fans against your stomach, his head nestling against you, his hands tugging your sweatpants down some more. “I’ll move them after dinner, get ‘em all sorted,” he tells you, eyes eagerly trained in on your panties as your sweatpants drop to the floor.
It takes everything in him not to let an audible groan crawl out of his mouth. The panties you’re wearing are lacy and baby pink - similar to the ones you wore the first time he fucked you, and it sends another terrible ache to his cock. You squeal as Steve presses a soft kiss to your clothed pussy, and he can hear how quickly your heart begins to race in your chest.
“Steve - Steve, stop, I have a question. Steve, it’s serious!” He stops, looking up at you with his big blue eyes which glisten with mischief. You almost don’t want to ask because he seems so giddy - but then you have caught him in a good mood, so you’ll risk it anyway. Your heart tightens in your chest, and your lips set into a frown when you ask, “I was wondering - uh, when I have our baby - could I - could I go back to work?”
Steve reacts like you’ve just slapped him across the face. His smile drops, and his eyebrows furrow. Just when he thinks you've learned, when he thinks he’s finally flushed you out of this ridiculous twenty-first-century feminist bullshit, it drags you back in.
A woman’s place is not at work. It’s in the home.
"Why do you need to work when you have me?" Steve's voice is eerily calm, and his stubble brushes against your inner thigh. You still against him, tense as your fingers stop in his hair, and he can hear your heart gently racing in your chest.
"It's - it's just something I'd like to do. To keep myself occupied."
Steve groans, rubbing his nose into your skin. "You will be occupied, doll. You'll have a baby to raise."
You gnaw at your lip. Steve’s eyes are intense, and he tries not to bark out an order for you to stop. gnawing on your lips. He despises it when you do that. “We could always get a babysitter so I could go back to work,” you suggest, voice faltering when you notice his eyes darken slightly.
"No. It is your job as a mother to look after our children, sweetheart.” He shakes his head. “Besides, I don’t trust anybody else to raise them.”
"Steve-"
"I don't want to talk about this anymore." Steve grunts from below you, his blue eyes darkening as he gazes up at you. "In fact, I don't want this mentioned again - ever - do I make myself clear?"
“Steve-“
“Do I make myself clear?”
You pout, nodding silently, and Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. His cool breath fans against your thigh, and his thumb doesn’t stop brushing your stomach. He wonders where he ever went wrong with you. You’ve been so good recently, and he ponders on why you have to ruin it. Steve thinks you do it on purpose, rile him up as a way to show one last act of fiery defiance.
He’ll be the bigger person today.
“I can work for us. I can provide for us. Your job as my personal assistant is irrelevant now that you’re carrying our baby.” Steve peppers another gentle kiss against your clothed pussy, and you shudder, your eyes fluttering shut slightly as his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, gently beginning pulling them down. “You’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted. Everything you’ve ever needed. Put your faith in me, doll, that’s all I ask.”
“Okay, Steve.” Your throat feels tight when you swallow, your knees buckling slightly as Steve’s tongue licks a stripe up your pussy. It sends you by surprise - a hot white flash shoots up through your spine as you tighten your grip in his hair.
“You're soaking, doll,” he murmurs as he parts your thighs with his hands, pressing gentle kisses against your heat. It does feel good - Steve's entire focus is you, and he gently rolls his tongue against your nub, circling his tongue from your clit to your hole and then back up to your clit. "Do you just love the thought of having my babies and taking care of them, baby? Does it get you as riled up as it does me?”
It's embarrassing that Steve's words make your pussy throb. It's even more embarrassing that he knows, a satisfied smirk painting his lips as he dips his tongue into your sweet nectar again. His tongue darts around your clit, and your knees wobble slightly at the action, your hands gripping onto him for support. "Roll against my face, baby, it's okay. I know you want to." His words of encouragement make you mewl, and you do just that - roll your hips against his face, your vision going starry as his tongue swirls against your clit perfectly, the stimulation making the knot in your stomach tighten.
"Steve," you whimper out, your eyes fluttering shut as your legs wobble, his large hands coming up to hold them in place. The feeling of his fingers darting across your thighs sends butterflies to your stomach, and you whine as his tongue keeps flicking against you, making sure to hit every angle of yours he knows that you like.
You hate how much he knows you. You hate how he knows that you're about to cum as your legs give way. Steve hums, the vibrations sending shocks to your pussy, your fingers curling in his hair, the grip tight. You see stars, and hot flashes shoot through you - the knot inside of you tightens and tightens until you feel it snap, to which you cry out, flooding Steve's face with your wetness. And he loves it - he fucking loves it, soothing praises escaping his lips as he quite literally licks your clean, his fingers rubbing soft circles on your thighs.
It's terrible how much you ache when he pulls away from you, how much you miss the feeling of his hot breath fanning against your pussy. Steve stands, his head nestling in your neck, his hands rubbing smooth circles against your stomach. You pant against him, still coming down from your high when you hear a timer ding in the distance of your kitchen.
"Dinner's ready," you murmur, looking up at Steve, flushing as his deep blue eyes stare down at you.
"Dessert before dinner. Not my usual go-to," he comments, to which you laugh.
When he enters the kitchen, the table is already set. You both eat with no mention of your old job - it’s like all defiance within you has melted away, opting to believe that Steve is right. Opting to believe that Steve will do right by you.
#steve rogers#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x reader#steve x y/n#marvel avengers#the avengers#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x female reader#chris evans#dark steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers x y/n#steve drabble#dark steve rogers#captain america#captain america x you#steve rogers series#oneshot#dark chris evans#womnsfw#defiled and dethroned#1k 💕
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𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃
marvel masterlist
pairing: dark!steve rogers x fem!reader
series summary: — working underneath the famous Captain America proves to be more tricky than you expected.
series warnings: — one-sided pining, dead dove do not eat, power imbalance, pregnancy, height difference — 6'6 Steve, 5'3 reader — emotional manipulation, gaslighting, misogyny, kidnapping, Steve gets his happy ending.
nsfw content: — dubious consent ! oral [m +f receiving] p in v, breeding kink, nicknames: daddy, captain, housewife kink, praise kink, spanking, captain kink, submissive!reader
key: ⭑ smut | ✄ dark
⭑ + ✄ — his assistant.
⭑ + ✄ — right where you left me.
property of © — whereireid. do not copy, translate, or repost onto other websites. read all warnings before consuming the media.
#steve rogers#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x reader#steve x y/n#marvel avengers#the avengers#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x female reader#chris evans#dark steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers x y/n#steve drabble#dark steve rogers#captain america#captain america x you#steve rogers series#oneshot#dark chris evans#womnsfw
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𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | masterlist
pairing: ellie williams x plus!sized fem!reader
Summary: When you get insecure, Ellie is there to help you out.
— warnings: mentions of weight insecurity. angst, fluff, smut nsfw content. body worship, fingering, oral sex, praise kink. nicknames. baby, angel, sweet girl, pretty
Daisies bloom by your feet, and wildflowers loiter the Earth. Herbs of mint are scattered aimlessly around, hidden by the thick blades of green grass. You’ve sunk into the soil, the scent of rain heavy in the wind. The sky is blue, but dark blotches of grey break through, creating a beautiful pattern of melancholy.
The ground is still slightly wet. The soil is soft beneath you, and your fingers trail mindlessly over the damp grass. You pluck thoughtlessly at the nature, breathing in the deep, Earthy scent. Your eyelids flutter shut as you girlfriends fingers gently move to tuck your hair behind your ear, the soft touch causing goosebumps to prickle up your skin.
There is no decay here. No signs of rotting or death. It’s almost silent, but the quiet sounds of birds chirping flood your ears. You try to ignore the tugging of your heartstrings when Ellie’s fingers graze your cheekbones, gentle in her motions as she touches you.
“Hey, pretty girl.” You open your eyes to look up at her, your head nestled in her lap. You fluster under her gaze, your eyes following the patterns of her freckles. “You okay?”
Her tone is soft. Her voice floats on the wind. Ellie smiles down at you, two strands of hair falling down the side of her sculptured face. She’s so effortlessly gorgeous, a raw picture of beauty.
“I’m fine, Ells.”
“Don’t lie to me, baby. You know better than that.” She pinches at your thigh as if to make a point, the breeze riding your skirt up a few inches as if to laugh at you.
You close your eyes again. You focus on the sounds of trickling water, the tweeting birds who sing proudly. You focus on her slow, even breathing, thankful for her patience. “It’s stupid,” you mumble, swallowing away the tight feeling in the back of your throat. “You’ll laugh at me.”
“I’ve never laughed at you before, angel,” Ellie says, and she’s right. She hasn’t laughed at you ever, not even when you’d fallen over rocks or tripped up stairs. “Why would I start now?”
The burn in your throat is beginning to grow. Your eyes sting slightly, and your face grows warm with embarrassment. You meet her eyes, flushing under her intense, pointed gaze. “I don’t like how I look, Ells.”
Her brows knit together, confusion plastering across her features. The confession lingers in the air, creating a barrier of silence between the two of you. You turn your face away from her, small specks of tears falling from your eyes, slipping down your face, and eventually they make a home on your lips.
“What?” She says, exasperation laced in her tone. “You — baby, what?”
“Please don’t make me repeat myself,” you mumble, your voice wavering slightly. Ellie’s fingers press against your jaw, tugging your face towards her, and you try to ignore how her expression makes you feel.
Your gut churns as you stare at her tight, ticked jaw and her furrowed brows. “Oh, angel.” Her thumb runs over your lip, brushing the salty tears away your mouth. “Why? You’re so pretty, baby, can’t you see that?”
“It’s not — it’s not that.” Your voice comes out a whisper, the breeze causing your skirt to ride upwards. Your fingers curl around the fabric, tugging it down slightly, the cold air causing goosebumps to prickle up your thighs. “I know I’m pretty. You tell me everyday.”
“So, what is it?” Ellie presses, pursing her lips together as she ponders over what you could possibly be insecure about.
In her eyes, you’re perfect. Heavenly. She’s no idea how you’re allowed on a place as evil as Earth. Ellie isn’t religious — she never has been, but she can’t think how such a sweet girl like you can exist without a higher power. You’re ethereal, an angel sent down from heaven that had been directed straight to her.
She can’t even begin fathom what the hell you’re insecure about.
“I don’t — I don’t like my thighs.”
Ellie’s eyes flicker over to your legs. You’re wearing a skirt she’d stolen on a supply run. It was ridiculously skimpy and lewd, and arousal had pooled in the bottom of her stomach when she thought about you in it. There was no way she was leaving that abandoned mall without it, especially not when she checked the tag and realised it was in your size.
“I like them,” she comments, but it comes out as a growl, her hands gently palming the soft plush your legs. “They’re so fuckin’ hot, especially when you’re in this skirt, baby.”
“It’s not just them.” As if to make a point, you brush her hands off of your thigh and her gaze is so intense, it feels as though her green eyes could burn a hole in your skin. “Ellie, can we just leave it?”
“What else don’t you like?”
“Please, Ellie.”
She shakes her head. Her hands move back onto your legs, and your breath hitches in your throat as she gently begins to move the skirt up, your skin exposed to the cool, forest breeze. “Tell me what you don’t like, angel. If you don’t tell me now, you’ll just have to tell me later.”
You huff as she moves away from you, your head now pressed against the thin picnic blanket she’d brought with her. “Ellie,” you whine, frustration lacing through you as she shuffles down towards your legs, her head nuzzling into your thighs. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You’re upset, baby.” She says softly, her fingers caressing your legs gently. “I don’t want my sweet girl being upset and keeping her feelings inside. It’s not healthy. Tell me what you don’t like. I’ll tell you why I do.”
You stare at her. She stares back. She’s made a comfortable bed in between your legs, and you feel warm and insatiable as you think back to the last time she was in this position. Her face had been all wet and she’d been groaning as you grinded against—
“—Head out of the gutter, angel. I can see that little brain ticking away.” Ellie grins up at you, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, and butterflies bloom in your stomach as she does so. Her voice drops a few octaves as she mutters out, “please, baby. I don’t like when you’re upset.”
“Okay. I don’t like my thighs,” you start again, from the beginning, your heart pitter-pattering in your chest as Ellie nods her head in acknowledgement.
“I think that your thighs are perfect,” she says, her lips brushing against the soft, plump skin of your thighs, leaving gentle bruises in their wake, “and nice and soft. I love how you wrap them around my head when I’m eating you out and squeeze them nice an’ tight when you’re close.”
You flush, shuffling under her heated gaze as she sucks small bruises onto the skin of your thighs. “What else don’t you like, baby? Keep talking,” she mumbles once she pulls away, her eyes starry and slightly awe-struck.
“I don’t like my belly,” you admit shyly, trying to ignore the embarrassment which floods through you as Ellie stops peppering kisses to your legs. “And I don’t like my hips. Or my boobs. Or—“
“Baby.” Her voice is calm and smooth as she calls out to you, and you instantly meet her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed that you’d started to cry until you looked down at her, her pretty face blurred by your glassy eyes. “I love all of those things, angel. Your stomach — holy fuck, your hips. You know how hot it is when you wear a tight little dress which shows off all of your curves? Which hugs your tits and your ass?”
“It’s not hot.”
“It is.” The affirmation in her voice makes your lip tremble slightly, and she coos up at you, her brows knitting together in concern as you stir in your upset. “Oh, angel, you’re so oblivious. Everyone wants you. Everyone. And if they don’t want you, they want this —“ she gestures to your body, trailing her hands from your hips up to your breasts “—which is why it shocks me so bad that you don’t realise how hot you are. You know how many men I’ve had to fuckin’ scare away when you’re dancing like nobody’s watching in this skirt?”
Ellie’s voice drops to a whisper, and your breath hitches in your throat as her hands shuffle back down to your thighs. Her fingers dart closer and closer to the place where you need her most — the place where you’ve grown wet with desire as a result of her praises. “I can’t believe you don’t realise how precious you are, angel.” Her voice is husky as she peppers kisses to your legs, every nerve inside of your body tingling and on fire as she speaks. “Let me show you.”
Ellie’s fingers curl around your panties. She coos as her fingers make contact with your slick, her green irises becoming sheathed by her black and blown pupils. “So wet for me, baby. You’re such a good girl. You just want me to love you like you deserve, don’t you, angel?”
“Yes,” you say breathlessly, your heart hammering so quickly inside of your chest that you feel like it’s going to explode. “I want you to show me how much you love me.”
Ellie groans from below you, running her fingers through your sticky folds, her other hand holding your panties to the side for better access. “So perfect, angel. Fuck, wrap those legs around my head. Want your thighs squeezin’ me when I eat this pretty little pussy.”
As Ellie’s lips make contact with your heat, a depraved whine is dragged from your throat. You do what she says, wrapping your legs around her head the best you can, squeezing her head hesitantly, unsure of whether or not she really wants it. When she groans in response, your stomach flips, and you tense your thighs again, this time a little harder.
“That’s it,” she says, pulling away from your heat slightly, her eyes darting over your cunt. It’s swollen and puffy, so slick that it looks like it’s crying for her touch. “I wanna drown in this pussy, angel.”
Your legs waver as her lips connect to your cunt again. Her tongue rides through your slits, gentle as her mouth connects with your clit, sucking and lapping at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You jolt beneath her touch, her fingers squeezing at the plump flesh of your thighs as she eats at you, eager and desperate.
The picnic blanket grows taut in your palm as your hands curl into the fabric desperately. You fist at it, your eyes drooping shut as her tongue swirls around your clit. “Ellie,” you whimper, your back arching from the ground as she licks a rough stripe over your cunt, the sensation sending hot flashes shooting to your core. “Feels so good.”
She groans in response, her hazel eyes cloudy and drunk as she laps at your heat. You taste delicious, so perfect, and she gives your thighs a final squeeze before her hands dart away from your plump flesh. Ellie pushes two fingers inside of your cunt, your walls sheathing her digits instantly, and you let out a strangled moan in response.
Her fingers curl inside of your cunt, and she smirks as you clench down around her. The sounds which echo through the forest are lewd — your whimpers and moans and your squelching cunt drown out any other sounds, and Ellie feels impossibly pussy-drunk as she laps at your core.
It feels like electricity is literally pulsing through each and every one of your nerves. Your thighs squeeze her head, and you hear her mumble a string of incoherent praises — “taste so good baby, so perfect, love these thighs and your stomach and you” — your mind growing hazy as her tongue circles gently around your clit.
“Ellie,” you whimper, your body weak as her fingers curl inside of your cunt. Her tongue circles around your clit, her lips suctioning around sensitive bundle of nerves gently, “‘m so close, please, Ellie?”
She doesn’t speak. She just keeps sucking and lapping at you, watching as you grow frantic and desperate. Ellie looks up at you through hooded lids, a grin painting her lips as you squeeze her face with your thighs, withering and gasping as you begin to come undone.
"Cum for me, pretty," she encourages incoherently as she nuzzles into your cunt, her fingers gliding in and out of your sweet, slick pussy.
You clench down around her fingers, your stomach growing tight as you begin to grind against her face. Ellie listens to each moan, each whimper, making sure to pay strict attention to your clit, the contact making your legs jolt as you begin to come undone.
It feels so good. Her fingers curl inside of you, the knot inside of you ripping apart, fraying, loosening. Electricity pulses through you, flames biting and licking at every nerve, and you gasp as you feel her face grow impossibly slick, your body growing weak as she eats you through your orgasm.
"Ellie," you mumble, your voice shaking when she finally pulls away from your heat, a lewd string of saliva following her. Her face is wet, and she grins, nestling into the soft skin of your thighs, peppering gentle, loving kisses against your skin. "That was so good. You were so good, Ellie."
"No, angel,” she says softly, her hand reaching up to yours, and you blush as she intertwines her fingers with your own, “you were so good. So good f'r me, my perfect girl."
Her fingers toy with the end of your skirt. The hem is frayed, and she hums lowly, her green eyes boring into yours. "'I love these skirts on you, angel." She comments, moving up to press a kiss against your lips, and you let out a breathy moan as you taste yourself on her tongue. "I love your thighs and your tits and your hips and your stomach. I love you, pretty girl."
You flush as Ellie brushes a strand of hair from your eyes. "Love you too, Ells," you murmur, finding solace in the comforting silence of the forest, nothing but the sounds of your girlfriend's steady breaths and her racing heart filling the quiet.
There’s something so peaceful and sincere about the wasteland that you lay in. There’s no sign of life but there’s no sign of death, either. A perfect balance. You sigh as Ellie pulls you into her chest, your head lulling against her, no longer feeling the urge to tug your skirt down when the breeze rides it up.
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie williams tlou#the last of us#the last of us ellie#ellie williams x you#ellie x reader#tlou#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams angst#tlou ellie#ellie smut#ellie x y/n#ellie the last of us#tlou smut#ellie willams x fem!reader#womnsfw
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𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔
pairing: jake sully x fem!reader | masterlist
Summary: Jake Sully has never been taken care of before. You decide to change that. based on this request.
— warnings: fluff // nsfw content; handjobs, unedited. 😬
Jake Sully doesn’t think that anyone has ever asked to take care of him before.
It’s a strange request for you to make — one that has his ears flickering in confusion and his tail swatting behind him, but he simply nods his head, adjusting his legs so you can easily slide in between them.
“I’m gonna take care of you,” you murmur, your lips brushing against the striped skin of his inner thigh. You leave goosebumps in your wake, your movements slow and sultry, and Jake gazes down at you with half-lidded eyes. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, 'ts okay.”
As though to add to his point, he gives you a slow, earnest nod. His lips quirk upward slightly as he speaks, and his voice is deep, rumbling in his chest. The low octaves send a familiar warmth pooling to your stomach. His legs are so wide and muscular, flexing under each touch, and you’re subtly reminded that the only reason you are able to take care of him is because he’s letting you.
He's leant against a tall oak tree in the middle of the forest, and you’re nestled between his thighs. It’s a promiscuous place to be, but it’s where he wanted to go.
Jake had returned to your shared mauri from a successful hunting mission, and stated that he needed to get away — needed to “clear his head”. You had meekly followed him, tottering after him and pleading for him to slow. He had done so; his strides becoming leisurely and steady, allowing for you to keep up with him. His tail had wrapped possessively in its familiar place around your wrist as the two of you walked together, your shoulder brushing against his hip every few seconds, causing you to fluster.
He's so big, and you’re reminded of this as you grow closer and closer to his loincloth.
“Can I touch you, sweetheart?” Jake’s drawls softly from above you, his fingers instinctively reaching out and brushing a few strands of loose hair away from your face.
“You can do what you want, Jake. I just want to take care of you.”
You gaze up at him, and it feels like the breath is knocked from your lungs. Jake is ethereal, the small rays of sun breaking through the trees catching his lashes, reflecting the light onto his eyes through his half-lids. You meet the polished stained glass of his eyes, orange and yellows hues staring down at you like an Earthly sunset.
Gaze dragging down, your met with his strong chest. Stripes of steel blue cascade across his chest like rippling water, and your lips part as you note the soft, round curve of his stomach. He’s not as young as he used to be, but age has been exceptionally kind. Your eyes flit across the scar which patterns across his chest, and you pout, your hand reaching upwards to swipe across the jagged line.
He blinks as you stare at him, his lips twitching upwards into a small smile. “It’s only a scar,” he reminds you, a hand coming down to wrap around his wrist. “I’m okay.”
The pad of your thumb presses meekly into the indentation. “I hate that man.”
“Well, we don’t need to worry about him anymore,” Jake murmurs, “it’s just us.”
Warmth floods to your face, and you meekly force your attention back towards his loincloth. You gently begin to hoister his loincloth higher, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as excitement pricks at your core. He allows for it to be tugged upwards, and your skin prickles with goosebumps as the slight curve of the forbidden fruit that you crave terribly begins to grow exposed.
“So pretty, Jake,” you mumble, your fingers shaking as they untie his loincloth at the side. Your fingers explore the exposed skin of his hips as the loincloth falls to the floor, your lips peppering against his inner thighs, ignoring the area that he desperately craves to be touched the most.
Your nails drag softly against his hips, following the patterns of his blue stripes, and he sighs sweetly as your lips brush against his crotch ever so slightly. Your eyes flick towards his cock, which is hard and pulsing besides you, perking with excitement and need as your tongue gently laps at the crook of his thigh.
“So are you,” he responds quietly, gently tilting your chin so that he can look at you. His irises are sheathed by the dilation of his lust, and you shyly smile at his enthusiasm. “You’re my pretty girl, sweetheart.”
As if to prove his point, you bat your lashes up at him. You dip your head so your lips scrape against his thigh again, and your breath is warm, faintly fanning across his skin. His thighs flex under you, and your kisses grow hot and wet as you softly suckle at his skin, satisfied when the blue of his skin begins to grow purple.
Finally, your hand moves towards his area of desire. Your palm wraps a fist around his cock, your thumb swiping softly over his leaking, lavender head. A quiet hiss slips past Jake’s lips, and from the peripheral of your vision, you can see him tilt his heads backwards.
He shifts his hips, bucking lazily into your hand. “No, Jake,” you respond, and he looks down at you, confusion evident in his features. “Let me do all of the work.”
Jake nods his head timidly, readjusting his hips to grow comfortable. His eyes fight to stay open, but between the rays of sun which shine directly at his pupils and the sultry look on your face, he’s forced to shut his eyes and focus on the painful aching of his cock.
Desire blooms in his stomach as your hand teasingly begins to tug at his cock, your palm soft and wet, and he wonders when you spat on it, and then he realises that you didn’t and you’re simply using his pre-cum as lube.
Your other hand, in all of its glory, softly draws shapes into his skin, your nails sharp enough to warrant fear. He knows you’d never hurt him, and his lips part in joy as your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, a soft moan dragging from his throat. His cock is so thick that it’s hard to manage, but he seems like he’s enjoying himself.
His stomach tenses as you continue to roll your fist up and down his cock, and it aches — he aches, desperate to thrust into your hand, but he’s more scared of the lack of an orgasm than he is the consensus of a drawn-out one.
“Sweetheart,” he breathes, and his thighs jolt as your teeth sink softly into the plump flesh of his thigh. “Please?”
“You’ll get what you want. I promise.”
An insatiable feeling of warmth drowns him, and he imagines his face is flushed terribly. Another quiet moan is drawn from his throat as you pump his cock tantalizingly slow, his body sparking with the need for more.
“Faster,” he begs, “please, pretty girl, I need more.”
Hungry for relief, yet gnawing for more bliss, Jake lets out a quiet cry, his eyes opening to gaze down at you. He’s glad that he did, and pleasure bubbles in his stomach as he takes in your amused expression, your lips quirked upwards as you continue to pump his cock.
Jake’s head tips backwards again, resting against the tree, and you rub your thumb over the slit of his cock as you press wet, heated kisses to his other thigh, your teeth scraping down his skin. Your canines aren’t sharp enough to draw blood, but you try — nipping and biting to create a stark contrast of both pleasure and pain.
Gently, you readjust yourself, pausing your movements. You lean over his crotch, and Jake gasps quietly as you let yourself drool over your hand and his cock, your salvia covering your fingers and his tip. You messily jerk him again, and he lets out a choked groan, and you wonder how you got so lucky to have such a verbal partner.
His praise and sounds of pleasure causes arousal to pool in your own stomach, but you ignore it, opting to focus all on him. His cock dribbles with more precum, and his stomach and thighs tense as you carefully begin to speed up the motions of your hands.
“Do you like this?”
Jake nods his head. His throat feels tight and so does his stomach, all tense and rippling with pleasure. “Yes,” he chokes out, his fingers curling into the soil beneath him, “I like it.”
“I knew that you would,” you murmur softly, the pad of your thumb rolling over his thumb, a small smile painting your lips as his precum dribbles down his cock, following the slight curve of the impressive muscle.
Your nails rake over his thighs, and Jake shivers, tensing and writhing beneath you. He’s aching, impossibly hard, and his eyes crush shut as he begins to tremble beneath you. You smile as he gives into his vulnerability, as he allows for you to take care of him, and you watch his fingers curl deeper into the soil, and you allow him to finally thrust into your hand.
“Oh, yes, that’s it,” he grits his teeth as he praises you, and his stomach burns with heat, his ears pinned backwards as the sloppy sounds of his lust echo throughout the forest. “My pretty girl, taking care of me so good.”
Jake’s voice has sunken to a whimper now, and you feel your cunt pulsing between your legs. You’re growing sticky and needy yourself, and as you rub him, you also rub your thighs together, attempting to find a source of friction to dull your own insatiable desire.
“Faster?” you ask him, and he nods his head vigorously.
Your grip tightens on his cock, and you begin to jerk him faster, and he lets out a throaty, content moan. He nods his head, praising and begging, pleading for more, and you let him rut into your fist. He feels so hot, and his stomach is so tense and his thighs flex beneath your nails and you can’t help but sigh softly.
He’s so desperate.
Pleasure buzzes in the atmosphere, and you sense that he’s getting close, and you can feel him getting closer. His cock is leaking over your hand, and you move to wrap your other fist around it, attempting to give him as much pleasure as possible.
Your wrist aches, burns as you continue to help him, and you can’t help but praise him further, “so pretty, Jake, you know that?” you murmur, but he can’t hear you, his heartbeat so loud as it rattles throughout every fibre of his being.
It’s heavenly torture, and he begins to pull soil from Pandora as he ruts into your hand further, and your grip on his cock tightens, the motions sloppy and lewd as his hips desperately snap upwards. “Yes, like that. Sweetheart, please!” He begs, and then he can’t hold it in anymore, the inferno blazing inside of him overwhelming, too much all at once.
“Take care of me so — so good,” he cries out, screwing his eyes shut as he dulls the fire inside of him, the fast pace he’s set allowing for him to finally find relief. The lewd squelching sounds echo throughout the forest, and you attempt to tighten your grip as much as possible, and then it happens.
He cums, and he cums hard. Jake’s body shakes beneath you, trembles as your hot breath fans against his cock, your tongue flat against his tip as you swipe away all of the cum that you’ve coaxed out of him. His head is tilted, rested against the tree, and his chest rises and falls quickly, gentle whimpers catching in his throat as you continue to stroke him through his orgasm.
The soft flexing of his thighs is delicious, and you watch as his stomach ripples, the muscles sheen with a mixture of sweat and cum. His head is pounding, and his tail flickers madly behind him. Exhaustion rolls over him as you pull away, the soft glistenining of cum and saliva staining your bottom lip, and he closes his eyes again, unable to look at you.
“Was that good?” You ask quietly, gently sheathing him with his loincloth, a dreamy smile on your lips.
“Good?” He repeats, and warmth flutters throughout his body as he feels you clamber atop of him, your arms wrapping around his body as you press into his chest. He instinctively reaches a hand around you, pulling you close, your small frame hugged tightly to his own. “That was perfect.”
#jake sully#jake sully smut#jake sully fluff#jake sully angst#jake sully x you#jake sully x reader#jake sully gif#avatar#avatar 2#avatar: the way of water#atwow#avatar 2009#avatar smut#james cameron#smut#Jake sully x reader smut#womnsfw#avatar fanfiction#avatar the way of water#fanfic#fanfiction#avatar movie#jc avatar#avataredit
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I read ur newest fic - its amazing, ur amazing, his dick is amazing, gag me.
I was wondering about a scenario of like, hate sex? Well kinda, hate sex on his part. This is before he fell in love with bun (or what made him fall for her) SO he's just fucking into her - super angry bc she's just so fckn dumb & useless drooling after him- but every time he thrusts into her it's just
"I love you"
Thrust
"I love you"
Thrust
"I love you!"
And it just makes him madder bc how tf is he supposed to be cruel and hateful to her if she keeps saying that!? And it makes him have feelings and he hates that so he fucks her harder to get her to shut up.
I may have put to much thought into this
sooo in my mind, i actually envision quaritch to be the one obsessed with bunny, like super in love and she’s cold at first, but for the purpose of THE HORNY, i will entertain this idea 😏 18+ warnings sex lol
“god, you’re annoyin’ me, bunny. always chasin’ after me. you obsessed with me or somethin’?” quaritch would spit at her, trying to ignore the clenching of his heart when she’d flinch, reeling back into the pillows.
“love you, daddy,” she’d mumble in response, all cockdrunk and teary-eyed, her blunt, dull nails digging into his skin, her legs shaking like crazy. and he’s just pound harder, faster, trying to ignore how his heart races when she tells him that, but then she says it again. “quaritch, i love you.”
his head would be lulling against hers, his senses overwhelmed by her, and he’d be grinding his teeth, fucking into her relentlessly, saying, “yeah? you love me, bunny? love how daddy’s cock makes you feel?”
and she’d be nodding and writhing beneath him, her nose crinkling and her eyes flickering shut, telling him, “yes, yes, yes! love you so much, daddy. need you always.”
quaritch would be fucking into her harder, trying to dull her senses, make her into the dumb little bunny he knows she can be. “you’re such a dumb little bunny. only good for this, only good for having your dirty little cunt used,” he’d growl, thrusting so hard his hips are hurting in an attempt to shut her up, because his heart is hurting and he’s feeling too many things.
he’d be literally drowning in her, and when she’d clench down around his cock he’d cum, listening to her breathily cry, “love you so, bad, daddy, love you always.”
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˚ · . 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐈
navigation — request here ! ⭑ smut | ♡ fluff | ✄ angst
𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
⭑ — thigh riding
how tonowari reacts to you riding his thigh.
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍
4 instalments. includes: ⭑ smut + ♡ fluff + ✄ angst
#tonowari#tonowari imagine#tonowari x you#tonowari smut#tonowari x reader#tonowari x y/n#avatar: the way of water#avatar#atwow headcanons#atwow Tonowari#Jake sully x reader#avatar smut#avatar fic#avatar film#Tonowari fanficfiln#Tonowari fluff#Jake sully imagine#avatar 2#avatar 2009#womnsfw#avatar fanfic#atwow fanfiction
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With your quaritch series would he and bunny have a safe word and what is his reaction if she uses said safe word? I love this series
yes! they definitely have a safe word, and it'd probably be similar to the traffic light system! green = continue yellow = mehh, 'm on the fence, red = STOP!!! in my head, for what I write and envision, bunny and quaritch engage in some... pretty hardcore scenes. but let's imagine for a second that bunny uses it! - warnings - spankings, safe words
i think quaritch would be punishing her, spanking her a lil too hard, marking her with his teeth - drawing blood, and the pain begins to override the pleasure a lil, and she just can't take it anymore. "daddy, 't hurts," she'd whine tearfully, her eyes all blurry and stinging from crying, her ass throbbing with pain. "daddy, please, didn't mean to."
and he'd just coo, "nuh-uh, bun, you know what happens when you walk around in a skirt like that. i even gave you other options to wear. think you just wanted to be punished, baby."
his palm would be cracking down on her ass like a whip, and usually she could deal with it, but she's squirming and crying and she feels like she's genuinely dissapointed her daddy, which is something she did not want to do, and she'd sob, "red, daddy, red, red, red! 't hurts!"
and the second the phrase slips out of her mouth, he'd stop, sitting her up, his tail wrapping possessively around her ankle, shock-horror painting his features. "oh bun," he'd whisper, his thumb wiping away her tears, "'m so sorry. you sore, bun? need daddy to stop and take care of you?" and she'd nod her head yes, all sniffely, and he'd do just that.
quaritch would make sure bunny's nice and comfy, wipe away her tears, embrace her, run her a bath - do anything to make sure she feels safe and comfortable with him, bc he loves his little bun and doesn't want her to feel unsafe
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˚ · . 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏.
୭ 🧷 ✧ 𝟑,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: spencer reid x fem!reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: established relationship. nsfw content: implied smut, bondage, sub!spencer, handcuffs,
There is nothing quite as beautiful as seeing your husband sink to his knees, a pair of handcuffs forcing his hands behind his back, with his ankles pressed together. Legs strung together with a delicate piece of rope, weaved beautifully, keeping him painfully locked together.
Warm honey hues, mixed with licks of deep caramel and forest green stare up at you, pleading, desperate. Spencer watches you eagerly, his tongue darting over his bottom lip, inhaling and exhaling softly, anticipation gnawing at his insides.
Spencer Reid a sight for sore eyes; your favourite artistic piece. You stare down at him, unrelenting, your pointer finger softly darting out to pull his chin upwards, forcing him to truly look at you.
“Honey,” he breathes, edging closer to you, nuzzling his head into your palm. He looks so pitiful, so emasculated, tied up and muddled and in such an obscure position; all for you, all for his wife. “Please let me touch you.”
Amusement flutters through you. He’s begging, and as though to make a point, he pulls on the handcuffs, the chains clinking as he does so. Pretty pink lips pushing into an irresistible pout, Spencer meets your eyes, his brows knitting together in pleading.
“You want to touch me, Spencer?”
His eyes soften as you lean down to gently inspect his face, your fingers gently trailing over his cheekbone.
“Yes,” he breathes, “please let me touch you.”
Quiet shrouds the bedroom. Your palm splays on Spencer’s cheek, a soft coo slipping past your lips. “My genius husband,” you murmur, “of course you can touch me.”
The clink of the handcuffs is instant. Spencer’s features soften, his frame visibly relaxing. He parts his lips to speak, but before he can request anything, you interrupt.
“Since you’re such a genius, Spencer,” you withdraw your hand from his face, stepping back. Spencer’s eyes flick over your frame, resting on the way the lilac lingerie hugs your breast and hips, “you can untie yourself, and then, as a reward," you utter, sinking onto the edge of your bed, "you may touch me."
There is nothing quite like watching the way your husband deflates. The pink slit of his cock pumps out another dribble of precum, his length so tender and hard. He whines, his body arching in an attempt to loosen the knot you’ve tied, but it’s impossible — he knows that.
He’ll just have to wait until you’re in a nice enough mood to help him out.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fluf#spencer reid smut#womnsfw#୭ 🧷 ✧ 𝟑𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀
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˚ · . 𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐒𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋
୭ 🧷 ✧ 𝟑,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: spencer reid x fem!reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: established relationship. nsfw content: smut, handjobs, orgasm control, sub!spencer
Positioned behind Spencer, your frame rests against the headboard. Both of your thighs are slung either side of his, and you lean forward to press a soft, wet kiss to the delicious curve of his shoulder. His skin is hot, blazing with evidence of his desire, and a soft whimper is ripped from his throat as a result of the sweet gesture.
“Can you cum again for me, Spencer?”
Your voice is sweet, your words dripping from your lips like honey. Eagerly, Spencer nods, his pretty pink lips parting to agree, but yet again, all he manages is a frightfully pathetic whimper.
Sticky salvia paints Spencer’s cock, a concoction of precum and spit acting as lubricant as you carefully jerk him off. His tip is pink and swollen, sore from his previous three orgasms, and he’s honestly not sure if he can cum anymore. It’s messy — everything is messy. Spencer’s balls are just as slick as his throbbing length, and a jagged whine escapes his lips as your thumb softly swipes over the slit of his cock, beckoning more dribbles of precum to leak from him.
Slick, hot, messy sounds reverabate throughout Spencer’s bedroom as you jerk him. You coo as he tenses, his stomach rippling with desire, and your spare hand palms him, encouraging him to just let go.
“Please,” Spencer breathes, his eyes fluttering shut as his thighs begin to tremble, a pitiful groan pushing past his lips. “Please go faster, I can’t —”
“Cum,” you say, “now.”
Jerking him faster, twisting your hand perfectly, ensuring your palm covers his entire base, Spencer lets out a choked moan. His appreciation is futile, but it’s all he can manage, and you’re not overly bothered. You rub your thumb over his slit again, and it’s all it takes; he’s unable to hold back any longer, and a jagged, broken whimper glides past his plump lips as he cums.
His hot seed spurts over your hand, painting your knuckles and your fingertips, and you simply hum, “that’s it, you’re so good for me,” whilst continuing to stroke him, peppering his shoulder with appreciation, planting kiss after kiss against his hot, glistening skin.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fluf#spencer reid smut#womnsfw#୭ 🧷 ✧ 𝟑𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀
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Omg but how about Eddie with a soft cute shy plus size gf, he worships the ground she walks on , and she’s so innocent. One night he wants to show her how much he worships her and she’s just so shy and clueless as to what he means , please n thank you!!:))))
Pretty in pink [Eddie Munson]
as a plus sized girl I loved writing this req so thank you anon 💓
warnings: nsfw, mentions of insecurities, religious references, mentions of Eddie wanting to impregnate reader, sex
Rhiannon quietly echoes around your bedroom. You rest on your bed, the pink silk duvet dancing around your skin. It’s so sleek, so gentle against your body, and you sigh happily as you gently apply moisturiser to your skin. Legs recently shaven, the scent of mango fills your nose as you rub the cream in slowly, making gentle swirls on your skin.
Rain patters against your window. Your TV blasts the Bugs Bunny Show - it’s the only thing you find mildly entertaining, and you hum to yourself gently. You haven’t seen your boyfriend, Eddie Munson at all today — which is surprising as usually the both of you are joint at the hip. You frown to yourself, wondering where he had been. Yesterday he said he wouldn’t be around much today, and you had just giggled slightly, twirling your hair and gazing up at him through your lashes. You assumed he was joking; you mean, where else would he be if not by your side?
Pat, pat, pat. At first you think it’s the rain hitting your window twice as hard, but when you hear a shout override the sound of the rain, you jump from your bed, walking over to investigate your window. It’s quite late now - about 11pm, and you’re actually kind of scared there’s some random man in your back garden. You frown when you arrive at your window - there’s nobody there, just grass, and you assume maybe it was the branches from the tree hitting your bedroom window.
When Eddie sticks his face into your view, you swear you almost have a heart attack. It’s not besides him to try to break and enter your house, but still - the sight of him sends you backwards slightly, skin prickling with fear, but when you drink him in you sigh in relief, moving forwards to unlock your window. His hair is slightly dishevelled, a few leaves sticking out of it, and his tongue is poking out from his lips in concentration as he starts to clamber through your window.
“Really, Eds? That tree is so frail I’m surprised you can even climb it.” You watch as Eddie slides his body in, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You pick the leaves out of his damp hair quickly and throw them out of the window, before pulling it shut. You didn’t want rain on your carpet - your parents would kill you.
Eddie stands himself up, brushing his wet jeans and shirt. “I’m a good climber, sweetheart. You just have to work your way around the tree and be careful not to hit any of the delicate parts.” He shoots you a cheeky grin, holding onto your hands and eyeing you up. You feel slightly exposed; you’re wearing a pink, lacy nightgown, and it leaves very little to the imagination. “You look gorgeous, baby.” Eddie practically purrs, his eyes slightly fiery. “Gimmie a kiss.”
A flush spreads across your cheeks and you tiptoe up to kiss him. He kisses you back, softly, treating you like a porcelain doll that could break if handled too roughly. You’re so innocent, so precious and he’s worried that any rough touch would hurt you. The kiss descends into gentle, soft pecks, and during it Eddie carefully guides you towards your bed. When the two of you finally pull away, Eddie looks around your bedroom.
He’s rarely in your bedroom during the day. With your parents being devoted Christians who hated Eddie Munson because of his ‘satanic’ beliefs, he rarely had a chance to visit you, and definitely was never invited in with welcome arms. Plump pink pillows sit on your bed, the silk cover shining and reflecting your bedroom light. The bed is perfectly made, perfectly organised, and Eddie loves it; how much it screams you.
The teddy he had won for you at the local fair sits proudly in between the pillows on your double bed. It’s small and white, with a tiny pink ribbon around its neck, it’s black, glistening eyes somehow full of emotion. “I think ‘m gonna name him Mr Ribbons,” you had told him when he had won it, a gentle smile on your lips, “I love it, Eds.”
“How was your day, my pretty girl? Get up to much fun?” Eddie asks you, planting loving kisses on your neck, his fingers dancing towards your hips. You bask in his touch, a small smile on your lips, trying to ignore how fast your heart is hammering at his closeness. He smells so good, so familiar, like pine wood and cheap cologne, and you drown in his musk. You love his scent, love him, and you’re so grateful he’s here. Today has, frankly, been boring without him.
“‘S been okay. I missed you.” Your admission is shy, and it makes Eddie’s grip on your hips tighten. “Just wanted to see you all day.”
“All day, huh?” Eddie hums into your neck, gently sucking at your skin, kissing the marks he left behind. “Been pretty busy today, baby, but couldn’t stop thinking about you and those pretty little tits of yours.”
Eagerly, Eddie’s hands squeeze your tits, nipping your nipples softly through your nightgown. You squeal against him, shuffling backwards slightly, basking in the warmth of Eddie’s touch. His hands are so cold compared to you, and you’re almost sure you can hear his heart racing against you. You giggle slightly as he gently presses kisses to your cheek, nearing your lips, and when he pecks you quickly, your face flushes.
“Bugs bunny, huh, baby?” Eddie says, flickering his eyes over to your television. You shrug sheepishly, your eyes glazing over with embarrassment. “You’re so cute, sweetheart. So precious and innocent. Daddy’s gotta protect you at all costs, huh?”
Swallowing thickly, you nod your head, watching as Eddie slides his shirt over his head. “Uh-huh.” Your voice is quiet, oozing with adoration, and you don’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes glaze over, darkening slightly. You shuffle atop your bed, trying to fully ensure your comfort, and bite your lip as you watch your boyfriend undress in front of you.
“You look so good,” Eddie practically groans as he slides into bed with you, pulling you close. You can hear his heartbeat race slightly as you snuggle into him, gently trailing your hands up and down his biceps. “So pretty. Pink really suits you.”
“I was a little nervous to get this nightgown,” you admit quietly, nerves prickling at your skin. “I mean, it didn’t seem like something someone like me should wear.”
Eddie furrows his eyebrows, massaging your waist slightly. “What do you mean, someone like you?”
“Well, I mean..” you trail off slightly, watching as Eddie gazed at you in confusion. He’s genuinely unsure as to what you mean, and it makes your heart pang slightly. “Because… I’m slightly bigger than other girls. It just - it just seems like I shouldn’t wear things like this. Like I should leave it to the pretty, slim girls. I don’t look as good as they would in this.” You shrug your shoulders as if what you’re saying is normal; but your heart clenches when Eddie’s face falls, and his lips form into a frown. Hurt flashes across his face as though what you’ve said has genuinely offended him.
“But you are pretty. And there’s nothing wrong with how you look. Have you seen how fuckin’ perfect you look in this nightgown? It was made for ‘someone like you’.”
“I mean it’s nice,” you say, “but other girls would suit this better.” You laugh to make the atmosphere light, but Eddie’s face seems to hold what seems to be annoyance.
“Baby, are you delusional? No, they wouldn’t look better,” Eddie says, grabbing your hips and forcing you atop of him. You squeal slightly, clutching onto his chest for support, and stare down at him nervously. Eddie’s bulge presses against your crotch through your nightgown. “Baby you don’t understand how fucking perfect you are.” Eddie’s voice raises pitch slightly, and he begins to whine pathetically, his hands grabbing at your waist, “do you even know how much I worship you, sweetheart?”
You shake your head slightly, trying to ignore the way his words make butterflies explode in your stomach, and you try to look away from him, but he tuts, grabs your face and forces you to meet his gaze. “It’s like you’re my fuckin’ God or something, sweetheart.” His words are desperate, his hands trailing over your stomach, squeezing gently, and you squeak slightly when his cock twitches beneath you. “Let me show you how much I worship you. Please. Because it feels like you don’t know how fuckin’ badly I do.”
“I know you worship me, Eds,” you whisper quietly, adjusting yourself so Eddie can take your nightgown off. His fingers are gentle against you, his touch loving, and his eyes hold a determination you’ve never seen. He throws your nightgown on the floor, leaving you bare and exposed. Your skin prickles with goosebumps, and his eyes are hungry, his fingers coming up to pinch your nipples. He toys with them until they harden, his fingers sending electric shocks through your body. “You - you don’t need to show me.”
“Except I do,” Eddie moves his hands down to your legs, “help daddy open ‘em, baby,” he tells you, gently beginning to force your thighs open. You comply with his touch, your heart racing in your chest as his fingers tickle your thighs. Eddie sits there, staring at your cunt - how wet and gorgeous and ready it is for him, and he groans slightly. “You’ve got such a perfect little pussy. Come on, shuffle up.”
The slick of your pussy leaves shiny wet marks on Eddie’s thighs. You position yourself on his chest, and furrow your brows in confusion when he beckons for you to come closer. “I can’t get any closer, Eds,” you laugh slightly, hands cupping his cheeks, running your thumbs over his stubble. “If I get any closer I’d be sitting on your face.”
At your words, Eddie’s heart almost stops in his chest. “Sitting on my face, huh? You wanna do that, baby?” His cock twinges slightly, and he wets his lips, looking up at you, watching as your cheeks flush red. Your tits are perfect, nipples hard, ready for his mouth, but then so is your pussy. It’s so wet, dripping on his chest, and what - all he’s done is kiss you? God, you’re so easy to make horny. Eddie’s eyes flicker down to your stomach, and it’s fucking gorgeous, and he just wants to fill you up with his cum again and again until you’re with his child. But he can’t do that; not yet, not right now – he needs to show you he worships you, need to ensure you know how fucking beautiful you are. “You like that idea, huh, baby? Sitting on my face? Move up, then.”
Swallowing thickly, you feel the tips of your ears heat up, and you carefully hoist yourself on his face. You linger above him, scared to put all your weight on him. “I don’t wanna crush you, Eds,” you whimper quietly, Eddie’s hot breath fanning your pussy. “What if I’m too heav-“
The grip on your hips is harsh, and shocking; Eddie practically slams your cunt on his face, desperate and hungry. He hums into your cunt, and you gasp as his tongue makes it way through your folds. Your fingers find his curls, gripping harshly, basking in the ecstasy of his tongue. His tongue swirls up and down your cunt, teasing your clit gently, before sliding back down to your slit, edging his tongue in slightly. You whine at his touch, jutting your hips, urging him to slide his tongue back up to your clit - and he does. Eddie grabs your hips, rolling them against his face needly, his tongue swirling and sucking at your clit. His face is soaked with you, and your stomach tightens as he continues to suck, lap at you like a dehydrated, starved animal; you taste so good, so perfect, and he wants to drink you. The heat of your cunt on his face is good - too good, and when you begin to moan unbearably, your thighs shaking desperately, Eddie coaxes you - “does my good girl wanna cum, hmm?” he murmurs, moving away from your cunt momentarily. At the loss of touch you cry out, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him to continue licking your pussy.
When he doesn’t continue, you stumble out; “Yes, I wanna cum, Eddie. Wanna cum so so bad.” You yelp out slightly as his teeth grazes your clit, the pain mixing with the pleasure of his tongue steadily swirling at your bud. Your core is clenching at his touch - his face is so slippery and wet that the roll of your hips is easy, and all thoughts of suffocating him is long gone. You’re desperate for release, and you grip onto Eddie’s hair, hopelessly blubbering out strings of encouragement, “fuck’m gonna cum, make me cum Eds, gonna cum all over your face like a good girl,” and Eddie grabs your hips harshly, his tongue darting circles on your clit so quickly your legs begin to shudder and your vision goes black.
Stars surround your vision, your ears ringing as you fuck his face, tits bouncing. A whine escapes your mouth as you come, your stomach twisting in ecstasy, and you paint his face in your squirt, shaking atop of him. Eddie doesn’t stop sucking - his hands hold you steady atop of him, and he laps at your sweetness, wanting to drink you all in. “You taste so fucking good, baby,” Eddie moans from underneath you. The feeling of his hot breath fanning your pussy makes your body shake slightly. “You’re so good.”
Eddie groans at the sight of you. So dishevelled, so pretty. The marks he left on your neck are bleeding slightly, and he grins up at you. “Look at how pretty you are, baby. Spin round for daddy, get on your hands and knees. ‘M gonna make you feel so good.”
The mirror opposite your bed truly shows your dishevelled state. You gasp slightly at the sight of you; there’s tear stains on your cheeks, running mascara, blood falling down your neck from where Eddie had bit you, and your hair looks like a birds nest. You flush slightly, wondering how the hell could Eddie find you sexy when you look like this? Your train of thought is interrupted by Eddie forcing your head down slightly, so your ass was positioned high in the hair. You whimpered slightly as his tip rested at the slit of your cunt.
“I don’t have any condoms,” you whimper, trying to move away from Eddie’s cock, but he kept you still, sliding his shaft up and down your folds, tickling your clit. “Do you have one, Eds?”
“We don’t need one, baby.” His tone is sickly sweet, and you gasp slightly when he pushes the tip of his cock in. Your cunt grips him and he hisses, gently caressing your ass. “I wanna make you feel good. I wanna fill you up with my cum, sweetheart. Give you a little Munson.”
“A-a little Munson?” you breathe out, burrowing your head in your bed as he thrusts forward, forcing his shaft inside of you. Despite being with him for so long, you hadn’t really gotten used to his size - how he stretched you out so well, left you burning and sore afterwards because of how often his cock hit your cervix. “I-I like the sound of that, Eddie.”
He leans forward, kissing your back gently. You’re perfect, and he needs you to know that. Needs you to know you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. If that means getting you knocked up, then that means you’re getting knocked up.
Your cunt tightens against him when he slides his hand underneath you to touch your stomach. His thrusts start off slow at first, gentle, wanting you to feel loved. And you do. His hands roam around you, touching all of your insecurities - loving them, whispering sweet nothings about them. His hips snap into you, his cock sliding against your g-spot, and you cry out. “I love you, sweetheart,” he groans through thrusts, placing loving kisses on your back. He’s leant over you, his body so close, so warm, and your stomach twists as his hot breath fans your face. He feels so good, and he stretches you out so well - you want all of him, everything, the good and bad. When you go to say it back, go to tell Eddie how good he is and how much you love him, he shushes you, “no, baby, this is all about you today, my pretty little girl. Daddy wants to make you feel good, okay?”
Squelching sounds fill your bedroom. Your grip on Eddie’s cock is tight, and he never stops hitting the little spongy spot inside of you. Your body feels like jelly with every snap of his hips, your core tight and ready to snap. His thrusts quicken, his cock slamming into you, making your body shudder; your toes curl in ecstasy, crying out some of the most foul words that Eddie’s ever heard, and you beg for more. You want him to fill you up, want him to stuff you full of his cum, and your stomach twists as he brings a hand down to toy with your clit. Eddie knows your body, knows you so well, and his kisses and touch and cock are so much.
You’re cockdrunk. You come undone around him, groaning and whining out as his thrusts keep the same pace, watching in the mirror how easily he slides in and out of you. You’re so wet; he’s so big, and you love it, love all of him and how good he makes you feel. Again and again and again his cock brushes against your spongy spot, and it’s too much; too good. Your body shakes beneath him, and he rides you through your orgasm, slapping a hand over your mouth as you scream out his name. Your body feels like it could break from how good it feels, the churn of your stomach and butterflies which consume you overwhelming all of your senses. He doesn’t stop thrusting, not when you’ve squirted all over him and ruined your silk bedsheets - they’ll have to be washed; but you don’t care. Your body struggles to hold itself up, so Eddie does it for you, carefully rolling his hips into you.
“Wanna cum again, my pretty girl?” Eddie coos as he feels you tighten against him again, your fists gripping the bedsheets. “Wanna cum at the same time? All over daddy’s cock?”
“Yes, please, god yes please,” you cry out - tears stream down your face, sobs rack your chest as he slams into you, again and again, whispering sweet nothings to you. His pretty girl, he tells you as his cock fills you up, nabbing at your cervix, stretching you to the point you’re certain you’ll break, his princess, his darling, his girl. All of his. Everything. Beautiful, breathtaking, gorgeous. Eddie doesn’t stop showering you in compliments, not when his thighs tense and his cock threatens to spill his seed inside of you. “I want it, Eddie, ‘m gonna cum-cum with me?” you’re begging now, your cunt so tight against him, you’re core twisting, body collapsing into the bed.
He pounds into you relentlessly. You come undone again, animalistic mewls leaving your mouth, ecstatic sobs shaking your body. You can’t take it anymore - this feeling, no matter how good it is, and you try to scramble away but his grip is so tight you can’t and it’s so good, he’s so good, and you squirt all over his cock. The tightness makes Eddie’s hips judder, and he comes, too - shooting thick, white strings of his cum inside of you, and he groans, “you’re so beautiful, baby, I love you so much,” whilst trying to keep himself steady.
Your heart races in your chest, tears staining the bedsheets and your face. Eddie hasn’t even pulled out yet - you milk him for all he’s worth, your cunt tightening and loosening against him, wanting all of his cum inside of you. The fact he wants to be with you forever makes you feral - the thought of you being who he comes home to in twenty years time drives you completely and utterly insane, and you almost want to tell him to stay inside of you and make sure you end up pregnant.
But you know that’s impossible. And you whimper slightly when Eddie pulls out, wishing he had stayed inside of you a little bit longer. His cum drips out of you, onto your silk bedsheets, and you squirm slightly. You’re still coming down from your high when Eddie pulls you into him - his body is soaked from the waist down, with your cum and the sight makes you face flush.
“Sorry, Eds,” you squeak out in embarrassment as you look down at his wet body.
“Why’re you apologising, sweetheart? I wanted this. I want this every day, baby. You’re like a fuckin’ fountain in the middle of the desert.”
Heart slamming against your rib cage, you smile up at him. He truly is beautiful - his long curls stick to his slightly sweaty skin, his brown eyes shining in ecstasy, a small, gorgeous smile on his lips. He’s perfect, and he’s yours. Forever.
“Did you mean it?” you mumble quietly. Your head rests on his chest, your fingers toying with the rings on his fingers. “You-you want a little Munson? With me?” your voice drops an octave, and it’s barely audible - but Eddie certainly hears it, and his eyes flicker down to your lips.
“Who the hell else would I have a little Munson with?” He says, before engulfing you in another kiss.
The rain patters against your window, though it’s much gentler than an hour ago. You assume it’s gonna clear up soon, and snuggle into Eddie’s chest. He’s staying the night - seeing as tomorrow is a Saturday the two of you will probably go to his trailer to hang out. He dozes off before you do, gentle snores filling your once quiet bedroom, and you turn your attention to the TV.
The Bugs Bunny Show plays quietly. You hold your belly softly. You hope one day Eddie will fulfil his promise and knock you up.
Deep down, you even hope it’s sometime soon.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#stranger things fic#stranger things vol 4#plus sized reader#womnsfw
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˚ · . 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒
navigation — request here ! ⭑ smut | ♡ fluff | ✄ angst
𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
⭑ — vowed
it’s every woman’s dream to be married to captain america, and by some stroke of luck, you are. steve rogers is as loyal and doting as he can possibly be - and you try to be the same. but that isn’t always easy - especially when steve’s best friend, bucky barnes, is there and steve never is.
⭑ + ✄ — winter is coming. [coming soon].
a/b/o au.
property of © — whereireid. do not copy, translate, or repost onto other websites. read all warnings before consuming the media.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#masterlist#womnsfw#WHEREIREID
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