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All fandoms I'm part of😈

[rie-jpg]

Am I the only one that gets turned off from reading fanfiction that has ai covers? Like there are billions of pictures on the internet of hot men and women... and you chose to participate in killing the earth to generate it, for what?

[chaiscentedcandle]

Sh*t, He’s so Pretty

𝙳𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎~𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙱𝚘𝚢𝚜

Summary: You never noticed him till he noticed you, never taking his eyes off you

Working at the small diner inside the boardwalk, you never had much time to remember faces, but his, that was different

Warnings: none? Slightly angsty? Slight stalking(sort of) implied fem!reader, readers work fit is described as a blouse and knee length skirt that’s all🙏🏽

Authors note: IVE BEEN WAAAANNTING to write a Dwayne fic for a HOT minute, this is my first write for someone outside of the HP fandom and I’m kinda excited ngl, this gif is literally my pfp too like UUGHHH🙏🏽

The boardwalk was loud, chaotic, smelling of sweets, fried food, and sweat. Sometimes the saltiness of the ocean breezed through, no matter what day or time it was always filled with screams of laughter and arrogant teenagers.

You never came to the boardwalk on your days off, what’s the need? You’re already there four days out of the week, why spend it at your job? Tonight though, your friends pleaded with you to join them for the free concert, strong willed until finally you gave in, you never stayed or really watched the free bands anyways, most of the time it being a day you didn’t work.

The atmosphere of tonight felt exciting, maybe something in the wind, or the fact you’re actually doing something on your day off, that being the main argument your friends gave.

They had rushed you at your tiny house, crowded into your bedroom, taking a record and playing whilst talking, getting ready for the night.

Before even entering the boardwalk you could already hear the squeals of children and adults wafting out, tonight being particularly busy, just like any other nights when the music played, the beat of music vibrating from the floor, in a way giving adrenaline to your friends, walking faster as they weave through people to the stage.

Tonight was like every night for Dwayne. Him and the rest of the crew lurking at the boardwalk, covering a railing close to their bikes but in view of the stage, you hadn’t noticed it but making your way to the stage, you had walked right past the boys, Dwayne’s eyes finding you in an instant, soon as he did, he didn’t want to take them off you, it was like you walked by in slow motion, you captivated him, your beauty shining with the fluorescent neon lights.

The way you moved, how your hair bounced with you, the slyness of your smile, you left a scent behind that Dwayne would never forget, almost immediately becoming his favorite.

Once you made your way past, he moved from the railing, keeping a good distance but just enough to see you. David hadn’t questioned him, turning to the rest of the boys, a smirk resting on the corners of his mouth, motioning to follow Dwayne. Paul and Marko bounding with excitement, Dwayne never showed much interest, in anything.

A decently sized crowd had already formed, most likely hours before you even left. Impatiently your friends weaved their way close enough to the makeshift stage, Dwayne and the boys stopping just a short distance in from where the crowd ended, he had a good view of you, tentatively watching, making sure no one was disturbing you.

You had made it in the middle of the bands set, blissfully watching and unaware. A new band making their way, quickly playing their first song, it wasn’t until the fourth or fifth song, you finally felt it.

The feeling of someone’s gaze peering into the back of you, first you looked at the people nearest to you, but their eyes fixated at the people above, then you looked a little farther, nothing. As if a kind of instinct in you, turning your body slightly to see almost at the top, a man. Long dark, and well kept hair, heavy leather jacket with leopard print on one sleeve, wearing a chunky necklace.

That piercing stare, felt like he was looking in you, reading you in a way. He had you captivated, the stoic-hardness of his face, the way he watched you almost flattering with a sense of eeriness behind it. You watched each other for a moment, before you slowly turned back around to your friends, unnoticed.

The night carried and the music played. Staying for two more bands before collectively deciding to go back to the boardwalk, indulging in the amusement before you.

Yet the feeling of eyes watching you never left. Not while walking through the fun house, your friends giggling as you navigate through the mirror maze, for a few seconds you swear he was there with you, the brooding, mysterious man. Catching him in a mirror, you see him, but dare you say he’s…lucid. Not quite see-through but not opaque. He wasn’t near but nor was he far. Not giving in, you tell yourself is the fun house, it’s meant to play tricks.

The feeling still didn’t leave, not even in the haunted house. Your friends gripping to each other, as if the decor was real, making it halfway you can’t deny the feeling of someone behind you, trying to convince yourself it’s the house, but curiosity taking over you, slowly turning to see, him. Just down the hallway, if you hadn’t seen him before you would’ve thought he was apart of the attraction, eyes locked to each other, even in the dimly lit hallway, you could make out his eyes, the scream from two of your friends bringing you back, not before taking a quick glance.

He’s gone you thought, deciding to leave it be.

As your group makes their way out, there you see him again, just across from the crowd, he was watching, the group he’s with barely paying any mind, watching the other people go by.

“Who is he?” Rang out one of your friends, another giving a half shrug, their gazes turning to you “do you know him?” they ask, giving a fake smile, not wanting to disrupt the mood “no idea, probably a regular” you say.

“His stare is creepy” said another friend, yet you couldn’t agree, you somehow couldn’t find it creepy, uneasy? Most likely, but beneath it, is something more.

Moving to the carousel, the conversation drifting back to normal adult occurrences. Grocery shopping, laundry, what nail polish to use next, but by now you couldn’t get him out of your mind, the anatomy of his face, the way his eyes made your entire body warm, how you didn’t even know his name but he was already doing things to you.

You feel a jolt to your shoulder, coming back from your daydream to see how far you’ve moved in line.

“Y/N? Are you okay? You’ve been quiet” stated your friend, again you give a small, fake smile “yes, sorry just..thinking about work in a couple days” your quickness covering it up.

“We’re here to have fun, not think about work” your friend says, moving through the ride, finding which animal to sit on, coincidentally you chose the motorcycle.

Your laughter along with your friends fill the air, though the ride just went in circles, you enjoyed the moment and for a minute your mind slipped.

That is until you hear heavy footsteps behind you, who would be walking on a carousel? You think to yourself, turning around, you make eye contact with a tall, platinum haired man, his stare cold. Following behind is him, the dark haired mystery man, his eyes upon you before you could reciprocate, his crew approaching faster than you thought, but time seemed to have slowed.

He was looking you all over, reading you, studying you. An ever so sly smile appearing as he catches the motorcycle beneath you. You could feel your heart thump fast and loud the closer he came. He smelled of smoked hide and dew, a scent you’ll never forget.

You could only think of one thing as he approached.

Shit, he’s so pretty

Your sight never breaking with each other. Soon he was in front of you, impossibly close but still not close enough, he had you in his gaze. His friends ogling at yours, them being rather uninterested.

As soon as he was in front of you, he was already passing you, still steadily holding eye contact for a few steps then turning forward again “what was that all about-“ your friend starts but before anyone could answer, there’s a loud commotion and the ride came to a halt.

Looking back in front of you, you see the security guard had the tall platinum man by his neck, another janky looking man had Dwayne by his collar, shoving him off quickly.

Before you could even realized, you had slipped off your seat, standing still, making no moves, your hand holding onto the pole, you wanted to intervene, watching as the security guard kicked them off the boardwalk, followed by the couple.

“Maybe we should go home” wearily your friend stated. Their altercation being the end to your night.

🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇

Since that fateful night, you hadn’t been able to rid that dark, yet enticing man. He had a hold on you, no words were exchanged, you hadn’t even known his name and he was already doing things to you.

You hoped getting ready for work would distract you, tucking your work blouse into your skirt. You worked the night shifts at the diner, one of the few places that stayed open late on the boardwalk.

Your mind would wander back to his eyes, how beautifully dark brown they are. Wondering if you’d see him, making you anxious and hopeful at the same time.

Your shift was just like any other. You walked to work, living not far away. You’d get there just before the sun would set, punching your card in then immediately seating and serving customers.

Within two hours the sun had been gone and night settled in. Entering into rush hour as more people filled the diner, wiping down a table and clearing the cups, you seat a family of four in a corner booth. Slipping your note pad out, pen at the ready “can I get you started with drinks?” Your sweet, customer service voice, naturally coming to you after working for so long.

Finally, the darker it got the closer it came to the end of your shift. Not knowing how many milkshakes and burgers you served or people you seated.

Steadily holding your server tray as you bring a group their drinks, carefully grabbing one by one, setting them down, scribbling on your notebook their food orders, you feel something again, someone watching.

Looking over your shoulder, out the window on the railing, it’s him. The diner being covered in windows left it easy to see inside but even then, from miles away, he could still spot you.

The light reflecting off him and casting perfect shadows, he looked so good you couldn’t deny, it made your face hot but your body tremble slightly, he had that demeanor to him.

You tried to ignore it, but a few minutes later, there they are. Him and his pose. Standing, waiting to be helped. And it was you who had to seat them. You tried to collect yourself, wiping your hands against your apron, taking a deep breath and you approach the front, grabbing four menus “anybody joining you?” You ask, the platinum-leather clad man from the other night answering “just us” motioning for them to follow you “right this way then”

He never took his eyes off you, not since spotting you outside and not even when they entered, watching you walk around the diner and over to them, your sweet voice filling his head. You could feel his stare in your back.

Sitting them by the exit that splits the diner, they fill into the booth. David and Marko taking the inside while Paul was next to Marko, and Dwayne next to David, still piercing you with his gaze. Setting the menus down you ask “any drinks?” Followed by your customer smile “just soda” David responded, nodding you make your way behind the bar, filling the cups with ice, but your heart was pounding so loud you could barely hear yourself scoop the ice, filling the soda was a blur and your already back in front of them.

You tried to hide your nervousness, but as you set the drinks down, the ice sloshing around, giving you away, they tentatively watched as you set them down, feeling your anxiousness pulse from your body. Starting with Marko then ending with Dwayne, holding the eye contact for a few seconds before switching to the whole group, tray under your arm, notepad out “would you like any food?” Asking softly, again David being the first to answer “I’ll be alright” followed by Marko piping “I want a burger” giving a sultry smile, quickly jotting down you ask “would you like fries with that?” To a quick response “absolutely, darling” nothing near the gawk you get from young to old men most days, but to Dwayne, he gave Marko a chilling side eye, Marko trying to refrain his giggle.

Paul giving his order before you could even ask “I’ll have a burger too, actually” his smile almost replicating Marko’s “fries with that as well?” You ask again, with Paul giving a quick “of course”

Now shifting your gaze to Dwayne, his stare felt more intense, the brownness of his eyes almost black. He just stared, taking all of you in again, not uttering a single word, feeling like minutes though it’s only been seconds “he’ll be alright too” David answers, nodding you mumbling a quick “perfect” you rip the ticket off and make your way behind the bar once again, handing the ticket to the kitchen through the window.

Before you could even turn around, you could hear the ding ding of the bell at the front, impatiently and repeatedly. A short sigh and hustle over you see the dreaded group, surf nazis, as a few liked to call them by, unfortunately tonight they’re paying customers, maybe. Luckily for you they never came in often, but when they did, it was never an easy night.

Hurriedly walking over and bringing them to a booth. The diner had been packed, leaving the only booth open three tables down from the boys, separated by the exit door, they could be separated by a whole continent and it would still be too close.

You could feel the tension in the diner grow thick, suddenly feeling how hot the air had been. The two groups made eye contact as they were seated, almost like a warning to each other, don’t get out of line and we won’t do anything.

Praying to yourself all you had to do was take their order and hopefully leave. “What can I get started?” You begin, instantly who you could assume as the “leader” chimes in “get us all milkshakes would you, babe? And uh..put something little extra in mine could you” almost demanding, you didn’t want to know what he meant by that, with his sickly grin.

Giving a half smile and nodding quick, writing down their flavors “any whip cream on top?” You didn’t want to be there but avoiding any conflict “absolutely” the guy began before leaning closer “maybe you could put whip cream on my top” again, you didn’t want to know what he meant with his gross advances, only going tight lipped then walking away.

The one night you wish they hadn’t also put you to milkshakes, having to walk past Dwayne and them to the station, yet this time his eyes weren’t on you, it was on the other group, his gaze looked like it could kill, the diner was loud but he heard everything, and his grip could break the table.

You made a pit stop at the kitchen window, Marko and Paul’s food sitting on top, gently sliding them off then away “here we are, sorry about the wait” you said, David plucking a fry from Marko’s plate, the two not wasting a second with their food.

Having not even stepped a foot away, Dwayne’s voice, tough yet soft, directed to you “if they’re messing with you, tell me” his eyes demanding but voice protective.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, this was your first time hearing his voice, you almost wished he said more. Stunned for a second, you reply “oh, thank you, it’ll be alright, I’ll be getting off soon” giving him a quick smile then going to the milkshake station.

How he wished you smiled at him again

Never in a shift do you think you’ve made milkshakes that fast before, even holding the tray with two hands because godforbid you dropped any.

They eyed you almost hungrily as you slid the tray onto the table “anything else?” Asking quickly, thinking you’re off the hook, but the leader having other plans, replying “yeah actually” audacity dripping in his tone, swiftly he grabbed your wrist. Not going unnoticed by Dwayne.

“Maybe, you could respond when someone gives you a compliment” he said, referring to earlier “I’m sorry sir, it’s a very busy night-“ he interrupts you “how about not taking so long for damn milkshakes” his voice raised laced with unnecessary anger, trying to slip your wrist away, people began to turn and stare.

“I’m sorry sir” you say again “their food was ready I had too-” he interrupts again, this time letting go of you in favor for grabbing his shake, slipping out the booth to face you, feeling his hot, putrid breath on your face, slightly turning away from him “this isn’t even the milkshake I ordered” now you know he’s trying to cause problems, you know that is specifically the one he did order “my apologies, I can remake-“ but of course, he doesn’t let you finish, as he’s poured half of the cold, sticky treat on your blouse.

Embarrassment ran throughout your entire body, you’ve had your fair share of rude customers, but not like this.

Your blouse wasn’t see through, that is unless liquid touches it. Most of the treat slipping and falling off, leaving a wet trail down your blouse. The surf nazi chuckling, his gaze steady on your chest “you can make it up by showing me what’s under that skirt” too much confidence in his voice, his comment almost taking your breath away, in a bad kind of way.

Dwayne could have murdered him in front of everyone for what he did to you, alas he settled for less. As soon as it happened, he leapt from his seat, grabbing a napkin, gently handing it to you before harshly grabbing the man by his shirt, face mere inches from his “you don’t touch her” he began in a low, threatening grow “leave her alone” he wasn’t asking, he demanded.

The surf nazi taking it as a challenge because nothing can be de-escalated with them “oh yeah?” He raised his eye brow to Dwayne, like it was scary. Holding out the barely empty glass, letting go of it, expecting to meet with a crash but Dwayne’s reflex was faster than the man would ever think.

Gripping his shirt harder, pulling him closer. By now the rest of the boys had followed suit, standing behind Dwayne while almost shielding you.

“Get out” he growled once more. The man glanced over to the rest of the boys, finally backing down, barely shoving Dwayne off before muttering a “let’s go” giving them an ugly look as they each passed by to leave.

Of course by now, almost the whole diner was looking at you. Never feeling so small before, holding the napkins to your chest, wanting to just run out and go home. Setting down the glass, Dwayne turned to you, gaze steady and fixated on you, your mind fried and upset.

Without saying anything, he took his jacket off while leading you outside. Careful to place his heavy jacket on you, the weight of it on your shoulders, you stared off a few feet in front of you, processing. Dwayne by your side, his presence almost comforting.

“Let me take you home” he says, breaking the silence, your eyes cut to his, how sincere they look at you. Your quiet for a few seconds “it’s okay, I-“ he doesn’t let you finish “I’m taking you home” again not asking, stating. You hold his jacket tighter to you, his smell surrounding you, lightly nodding you give a quiet “okay”

He leads you to his bike, it’s quiet but loud, nothing said except the screams of people and the sounds of the arcade. He gets on first, gesturing to you behind him, doing exactly that.

You don’t even get to tell him where to go before the roar of his bike echoes, grabbing your arms to put around him, flustered once again but in a good way. Still you don’t know his name and now you’re touching his body. His deliciously sculpted body.

The bike jolts then off you are. Riding fast, its mere seconds before the front of the boardwalk disappears, you grip him tighter. Too soon enough, you’re at the front of your house.

“Here we are” Dwayne states, slowly you make your way off his bike. Standing in front of him, you both share a moment, the moonlight hitting him just perfectly “I don’t even know your name” you say, to which you receive a low chuckle.

“It’s Dwayne” he tells you. Dwayne, you try to memorize “and yours?” He asks, that’s right, you almost forgot you had a name “Y/N” you say softly, slipping off his jacket, giving it back to him, watching how his muscles and shoulders contort. Again you stare at each other, content, you could almost see a certain gentleness in his eyes.

You can’t help but think again

Shit, he’s so pretty, another chuckle, almost as if he heard you.

“I never told you where I live” you suddenly bring up. A sly smile upon his lips. But he says nothing, watching as you turn, walking the short path to your door. Your hand rests on the handle as you turn back to look at him once more, the silence being filled by his motor, he doesn’t move, waiting for you make it inside.

The soft click of your door then sigh of relief, resting your back against the hardwood. Slowly you hear his engine get quieter and quieter.

Only one thought on your mind.

I need to see him again

[sunengine]

So I have this theory/hc/au, Im not exactly sure what it is. But I think the lost boys DID NOT DIE at the end of the movie, and I can prove it.Strap in this is a long one.

I worked HARD on this theory so plz credit me if you repost anywere.

So if you don't know, at the end David isn't really dead but only severely injured. They mainly did this to allow David to come back for a sequel that never happened. But this is what actually allowed this theory to possibly be true. We all know David has that power to give people hallucinations, right?Well, what if all their deaths were actually hallucinations David showed to them. That would have given a reason why they attacked one at a time instead of as a group as shown at the bonfire scene. One attack/death at a time would be easier for David to show the hallucinations.

A comment from CinemaSin actually brought this to my attention. He states that they would have won if they had actually attacked and not just laughed in their face. As shown in the bonfire scene, they show how they attack together, quickly and violently. But in the final battle, they attack one at a time and don't go for a messy kill, which seems out of character for them. So I think the reason they did this was to allow David to have time to make the hallucination before the person made "the killing blow." A good old bait and switch plan.

I can go through how this is true on each death, but for the sake of time, I'll focus on Marko's "death." Now I'm not saying Marko was completely unharmed,he 100% was, hence the blood. But based on what I see, Alen's angle for pushing the stake through his heart wouldn't have accurately worked out. Yes, he punctured skin, but through the heart, I doubt it. Alen would not have enough force to fully puncture the heart. On top of that, since Marko is upside down, the Alen's push force would well push him back, preventing the stake from doing as much damage. (I can go one, but I'll hold off here and move on for now.)

Now for the "why" of this theory. Why would they have a reason to fake their deaths? Well, I think it was an escape from both being hunted and being out from under Max's thumb. We know Max wanted to make a vampire version of one big happy family. With this, I think came the promise of getting each lost boy a partner. David, as the leader, would have gotten one first; hence Star. Star mentions how David wanted Michael to be her first kill, but she didn't out of love. But I think the reason David didn't force the kill was because Max told him not to. Can't get the girl if your boy kills her son, am I right? This along with other things (I will not be mentioning here) might have caused the want for rebellion against Max.

Although Max was the head vampire, he was not the one who turned the lost boys. Meaning they have no other loyalty to him besides being a dad figure. It gives a dynamic of forever teens with their forever dad; at some point they would rebel. Plus, David does not seem like the time to give full leadership to Max. At some point or another they were going to ditch him. The frog brothers, Sam, and Michael attacking them gave them a way to ditch him. So they can fake their deaths and let them deal with killing Max, making them free-roaming again.

How David got himself out. When he got stabbed, he was in fact not dead but hurt, so I believe he was playing unconscious. So when Max was doing his whole freak out, he was able to slip out. And nobody would question why his body is suddenly gone because the frog brother established that vampires' will go out in many ways. Meaning they would assume that he died because of his body being gone. So when the illusion wasn't there anymore, they assumed he died. Hence, giving them the perfect getaway with no loose ends and nobody hunting them.

Some might argue that David wouldn't be powerful enough to make those strong and elaborate allusions. I, on the other hand, think he would be able to. This skill or talent would most likely be like any other magic. More practice means a stronger output. Based on the prequel script, he would have plenty of time to practice. In the script they are said to be riding horses, which puts them in the early 1900s. The movie takes place in the mid to late 80s. This would have given David around or a little over 80 years of practice.

To further prove my point, David was in fact in the house and present to make the illusions. I know this because when Devid finally attacked, he came from the ceiling. Knowing this, I think David was in the ceiling in the rooms creating the illusions out of sight. Until it was time for him to attack Michael and start the final part of the plan.

To make myself clear, I do think they all got injured at some point but never got killed.

(Me rn)

And yes, I will be taking questions at this time.

[natti-ice]

every time i remember my favorite person isn’t real

[liainterrupted]

all mine | c. loveland

summary: you surprise Colston with your brand new tattoo.

warnings: making out, dry humping

a/n: first time ever writing something 🫣 open to any advice/criticism, thank youuu #imscared

Colston barely got any sleep on his flight back from Cincinnati, but the way you practically jumped his bones the second he walked through the door has him fighting sleep with every nerve in his body.

The moon shining through the skylight above his bed casts a soft glow over your face. You’re situated on his lap, thighs bracketing his hips and exchanging sloppy kisses with one another. His big hands have gone under your shirt, pulling you flush against him.

You can feel the movement of his lips getting sloppier, softly murmuring against his mouth, “You sure you don’t wanna sleep, yet?”

He’s quick to shake his head, voice rough and laced with exhaustion.

“Promise, baby. Just wanna stay like this.”

You’ve been like this since he got home. Neither of you try to take it any further than making out despite the heat coiling inside the two of you— you’re simply wrapped in the intimacy of the moment, the outside world long forgotten inside his bedroom.

Colston’s grip on your waist tightens when you adjust your position to deepen the kiss, noses bumping and mouth pressing harder against his. The action catches him off guard and he lets out a sharp inhale. You giggle into his mouth, feeling proud of yourself for getting a reaction out of him.

He mumbles out, “What’s got you feeling extra lovey, tonight?”

You aren’t the overly affectionate type.

Most of the time, Colston is the one who has to initiate everything. It’s not that you don’t love him— you just struggle with allowing yourself to be vulnerable out of fear of rejection or dismissal.

Colston doesn’t mind— patience has always been one of his strongest virtues. He never tries to make you feel guilty about it. In fact, he secretly loves how aloof you come off to everyone. Loves that he’s truly the only person who ever gets to see you like this. The way you drop your guard once it’s just the two of you, your clingy and sweet side reserved for his eyes only.

But, lately, you’ve grown tired of having that nagging voice running rampant in your head. Tired of it convincing you that it’s safer to hold yourself back— better to run away and hide— when, in reality, all you want to do is crawl into his skin.

Which is why you decided that while he was away, you were going to face your fears head on.

You swallow your nerves down, trying to keep your voice steady when you speak.

“Got a little something for you.” It comes out smaller than you intended.

He pulls back slightly, humming curiously before he presses another soft kiss to your mouth.

“What is it, mama?”

You unravel yourself from him which causes him to let out a small groan from the loss of contact. Lifting the hem of your shirt and hooking your thumb into the waistband of your shorts, you tug it down to show the fresh ink branded onto your hip.

The small, cursive C stares back at Colston. It takes his brain a second to register what he’s looking at.

His silence unsettles you. For a second, you almost think he’s going to tell you that this was a stupid idea. That there are much less permanent ways to express your love for him. And, suddenly, being the one to reach out to hold his hand sounds far simpler than it ever has to you.

You feel his finger come up to trace the tattoo and your brain goes blank. He refuses to look away. Like it’s going to disappear if he blinks. As you watch his movements, your breathing gets heavier. The tension is thick and evident in the air.

When he finally looks up at you, the weight lifts from your chest. Colston looks more awake than ever. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, a mixture of possessiveness and pride written all over his face. His hand comes down to squeeze the soft flesh of your thigh before his gaze returns to your hip.

“This for me, huh?” Arousal evident in his voice.

You roll your eyes at the comment, teasing him, “No, it’s for my other boyfriend whose name also starts with a C.”

He scoffs. “Don’t start with that.”

“Then, don’t ask dumb questions, silly.”

He chuckles at your response, forcing his eyes away from the branding on your flesh and pulling you back into his lap. You can feel how hard he is when he sets you down, clearly worked up from how boldly you decided to claim him.

“See what you did to me, baby? That’s all you.”

His hands are planted firm on your waist as he lightly rocks you against his dick. You can feel the wetness pooling in your panties, moaning out at the friction. He starts leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck.

Whatever self-restraint the two of you were holding onto earlier is long gone, replaced with pure need and hunger.

“Colston,” you whine out quietly, grinding down harder against him.

He shushes you gently, whispering, “I’ve got you, just keep moving like that.”

The mattress squeaks quietly beneath you as your soft pants fill the room. His touch moves from your waist, running up your abdomen to knead at your tits. You can feel your pussy leaking through your shorts, overwhelmed by the feeling of him everywhere.

“Can feel you soaking me, pretty girl.”

You can’t bring yourself to make any verbal response. You just pick up the pace and start your own trail of kisses down his neck, lightly sucking to leave your own mark on him in the morning.

Your movements grow sloppier, legs burning and ready to give out as you feel yourself getting closer. His dick twitches beneath you, and you can tell he’s right there with you when he begins bucking into you.

“Please,” you beg, “I’m so close.”

“I’m here, come on. Give it to me, baby,” he mumbles against you.

It’s not long until you feel the climax rushing through you, hands trembling and hips stuttering. Colston rides out your highs, his boxers sticky from both his cum and yours. The sound of your shallow breathing is the only sound in the room now.

His lips brush against your temple before he leans his forehead against yours.

“Y’know, you can never leave me now. Everybody’s gonna know you’re all mine,” he whispers.

You’re cheesing at that.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

[angiiewritess]

this is a smut request to write for colston, where he begs reader to sit on his face…

all mine - colston loveland.

description -> after your boyfriend finds you locked away in your bathroom, his mind wanders what it is you’re up to, that's when he sees the lacy set and requests one of the things he'd been desiring for a while... (tags and warnings; this is pure smut with a sprinkle of fluff! +18 minors dni, f receiving oral, facesitting, mentions of kissing, possesive colston if you squint, talks of insecurity, dirty talk and lots of it ;)), lmk if i missed any! also not proofread im sorryyy!!!)

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word count; 1,777 words

angie's notes; anon tysm for sending this request, had to write it as it had been plotting my head the whole day!!!! i could've sworn i had seen a similar idea or ceeation, but i'm not sure, if so pls lmk so i can credit author! feedback is always appreciated, mwah enjoy!!! 😽😼

“baby? what are you doing in there?” colston said through the locked door, making you get out of your gaze and stuttering a quick response to not look suspicious, “n-nothing, just getting ready for bed.” he knocked again, slower this time, “can you let me in? i want to get a pair of pj’s,” he asked, leaning his head hearing you shuffle around with what it seemed some sort of package. “o-one second!” you yelled, covering yourself up with the robe you used every night. 

“are you okay? why did you lock the door?” he asked, his eyes roaming up and down suspiciously, noticing how your fingers were tugged to keep the robe you had on. “did i? didn’t notice, sorry,” you mumbled a quick lie, removing your excess makeup with a cloth, not daring to make eye contact with him. you seemed flushed, as if you were caught in the act of doing something terrible. he took notice of the discarded white plastic bag, nonchalantly asking you what had come in, “what did your order, baby?”

“oh, nothing! just loungewear!” you offered a flat smile. another lie colston thought. 

he retrieved a pair of pj’s quickly changing into them as you continued to brush your hair and finished skincare. he pressed himself behind you, noticing how you didn’t meet his eyes, confused as to why you were hiding something. you never locked the door, let alone be this mysterious. he pressed a kiss to your temples, hands wrapping around your middle, “you would tell me if i did something wrong, right?” he asked carefully, seeing you nod. 

he continued to press kisses along your neck, slowly with no rush, your body melting into his, interlocking your hands on top of his. he moved the material, accessing more of your skin across your shoulder, looking in the mirror at how you threw your head back, reacting more and more to his touch. that's when he saw it, the burgundy lace material, stopping his movements.

“what are you wearing, darlin’?”

“it’s silly, really,” you tried to brush it off, turning back, your hands grazing over his large biceps. “i want to see,” he spoke lowly, nudging his head to the side, already untying the tight straps from your waist. colston sucked in a breath, taking a mental picture of your body dressed in the lace. your boobs looked perkier than usual, the bra accentuating the shape more, and the underwear that hugged your curves in all the right places, legs giving a longer impression as they were adorned with garters. he leaned back, eyes roaming every inch of your body. 

“do you like it?” 

“you look fucking unreal. so beautiful,” he praised, hands reaching over, his finger running over the tiny bow that rested between the middle of the bra. “why were you hiding this from me?” he asked, his kisses continuing across your jaw and over your sweet spot. “just got it in the mail today. washed it earlier in the afternoon, and i was just trying it on before you came in.”

“is that why the door was locked?” he asked, his forehead resting over yours, seeing the small, embarrassed nod. 

“don’t hide from me. i want to see all of you,” you let out a small giggle, turning around to give him a show. “gonna dream about this, hope you know,” he laughed, giving you a quick peck before carrying you out of the restroom and to your bed. your pulse spiked, chest filling with relief and frustration, his lips fawning over yours before locking them together, his thumbs drawing circles over your clothed nipples, earning a small whimper from you. 

you pull back, staring at him and blinking innocently, colston visibly gulps, still entranced by the surprise. his hands glide from your sides down to your ass, giving it a squeeze and two small slaps. he pushes you onto the duvet, where you sit up with your elbows. “i want you to ride my face,” colston said, giving you another messy kiss, tracing his tongue along with yours, feeling the vibration of your moan on his chest. 

“no, i’m too-”

“don’t finish that sentence. i wanna feel you on darlin’. don’t make me ask again. i need you to ride my face,” he said, with no hint of joking around. he untucked your bottom lip that you had been biting, his thumb tracing your lips before he slowly entered it in your mouth, lips sucking tightly around them as you stared intensely into his gaze. “gonna do what i ask?” he asked you, catching how your breathing picked up, the slow nod of consent not holding him back. 

he removed his shirt, smirking at how you flushed beneath him before he lays on the bed, his back cold after it hit the duvets. your legs lock him in, your already wet core grinding against the prominent erection that grew. your nails raked softly over his tatted skin to his chest, leaning down to press a wet, sloppy kiss. “don’t get shy with me, come up here, you’re not gonna hurt me,” your trail up, hips grazing over him as you looked down and saw him with hunger, a desire.

he presses kisses on the insides of your thighs, hands wrapped over them as he holds you in place. colston pushes upward, moving your underwear to the side, having access to your glistening core, daring to look up as he sees you already breathless even without doing anything. you were so wet, and he had to taste you before he lost it. he pressed a small kiss on your clit, before dulging right in, a low groan escaping him as he begins to get lost in you. 

his tongue trailed up and down, his nose hitting your bundle of nerves, adding more to the effect and simulation. you tasted so fucking sweet, he swore he’d never had enough. especially after seeing you in this lacy set. who knew it would have such a deep impact on him? seeing you stand there, gawking at him for approval, who was he kidding? you could wear a sack of something and still look sexy.  

he gradually builds your orgasm, taking small movements, not rushing this. he had been wanting to do this forever, and took tonight as the opportunity. your cries of pleasure as he graciously moved his tongue over and over, tracing his name against your slit, your hips buckling, not wanting to crush him. “fucking sit on me, baby. i want it,” he urged, his cock sensitive and hard. 

the sight of you alone was making him grind in the air, trying to relieve some sort of the pressureure built up. your hard nipples pressed over the lacy, bouncing as you began to grind over him. “that’s it, baby. i got you, i fucking got you,” he moaned, diving right in, his hands tightening their hold against you to press you down even more. “been wanting to do this forever, being such a good girl for me…” he praised, earning a loud whine from you, your hands tugging the short strands of his hair. 

“it feels so good colston,” you cried out, your eyes flickering down to see him determined, that same look he had on when he was out and giving it his all on the field. “yeah you like that? want more?” it was muffled, yet you understood, begging him not to stop. not when you were this close to unraveling. colston kept moving as his life depended on it, his nose bumping your clip, making your back arch every time. your legs were caging him, not showing any signs to stop as you began to grind on him at a fast pace. 

“what do you want for me, darlin’, darlin'? tell me, and i’ll do just that.” 

“i want you to make me cum, please, please don’t stop,” you moaned, biting your bottom lip as it was becoming too much. you felt your legs go numb, yet you couldn't care less, not when he looked this sexy underneath you, at your mercy, at your pleas, at your movements. his eyes were dark, filled with fixation, his nails scratching crecents on your skin, his tongue pressing into you, fucking you with it, “oh my gosh, holy shit colston.”

you’re not sure he can even breathe, your hand still tugging his locks as you pant and gasp, feeling the familiar bubble and sensation stretch over you. “so fuckin sweet, was made just for me, only me. say it,” he demanded, placing wet kisses over your clit, waiting to catch your response. “was made just for you, only you colston,” the way you said his name was enough to make him want to ease himself. 

“you look so beautiful like this, y/n,” he says, sensing how you were close. you were sensitive, it only took so little before he was guiding and slowing his movements as you came on him, his pj’s showing a small wet indent as his release also overcame. “cum for me, cum all over me,” you black out for a second, screaming his name like a devotion, that swell once inside you bursting as you slow your hips and let yourself relax to the fullest. 

you got yourself off of him, the two of you breathless, catching your breath as you stared with playful grins. “you’re going to buy this set in every color, hell, i’ll even buy them myself,” he hailed, pulling you closer, the taste of you still prominent on his taste buds. “was that too much?” he asked, your head shaking, “no, it was absolutely perfect.”

“made me cum in my pants, that's the hottest thing i’ve ever witnessed,” he chuckled, watching how your eyes diverted down to his bulge. his finger wrapped around your chin, forcing him to look at you, “don’t ever feel self-conscious with me, okay? you’re breathtaking in every shape and form. can’t believe i’m this lucky to have you,” colston said, seeing how you processed his words, acknowledging him. 

“i love you,” the words made his heart race every time. he wasn’t used to it yet, and he never complained because he was so blessed to be with you. for you to love him, to stand with him during his best and worst moments, to see a side of you only he got to see, to spend each day knowing that this was his forever. “and i love you,” he said it back; it was an unspoken rule, and he made sure you heard it. 

“tired? or are you up for another round?”

[baurbiediv]

Size kink w colston

own it || c. love

content warnings: unprotected sex, p in v, mention(s) of tummy bulge, squirting, backshots (?) not proofread

authors note: this should've been out WAYY earlier, sorry for the delay, i really hope you guys enjoy this + own it by drake was in mind while curating this

"baby please" you whined, your hand tugging gently at the bottom of his shirt

“you trust me right sweetheart?" colston huffed as his large hands gripped the back of your thigh that were currently being held up by your smaller ones.

nodding excitedly you listened, or at least tried to, listen to every word that was coming out of his mouth, his accent smooth as ever.

his deep brown eyes focused on yours, eyes dark yet still full of love and admiration for you. leaning down, closing the space between you, pressing wet kisses under your jaw.

"i know you're ready baby, i know," he told you, he frees his dick from his boxers, tip red and leaking. without hesitation, you're flciking your wrist up and down, pumping his dick as the he moaned against your neck.

you smiled to thinking you’d got the upper hand on him until he rolling his hips into yours, already slipping himself into your pussy. a loud moan erupting from your chest as the sensation you longed for suddenly clouding your judgement.

his hips stilled briefly as he adjusts himself pulling away from your neck, he licks his thumb before moving your hand, swapping his hands behind your knees as his hips begin to rock into yours.

"mm rrright there, you're so big" you breathed out, the palm of your hand resting on his stomach

"you're a big girl, you can take it right?" you nod in response, his tone firm. he's now looking directly at you and he's not asking you, it's like he's telling you that you can and you know you'll take him, just like you always do.

and you knew you would. "yes, yes, i can take it." head spinning as your glossy lips begin to form into a pout.

while your middle and ring finger rubbed lazy circles over your needy, wet clit, you're brought back to reality for a single moment when his hips are drilling into yours, just enough for him to hit your g-spot.

you threw your head back, "keep talking baby, come on", he huffed, "i know you feel me, tell me how it feels." his voice smooth like honey. grabbing your other free hand, he places it on your lower stomach, right where his dick print appears and reappears.

you can't respond and he knows that especially with your eyes threatening to roll to the back of your head. you're too immersed in your own pleasure to even register that he's actually talking to you.

his gaze gaze drops to look at the sticky mess you two have made between your legs, a creamy white ring making a notable appearance around the base of his dick.

his large hand grabs your face firmly, his finger tips now slightly digging into the fat of your cheeks. your eyes now focused on his, "you listenin' to me baby?" he mumbled, this time his hips driving deeper into yours, sending you further into the mattress. your eyes skim over his frame, a thin layer of sweat covering his tanned biceps and chest.

"mm listening ... i-i'm listening ..." words coming out slightly slurred, your eyes drifting back to his, indicating that you did hear him talking to you, considering the fact that words weren't even considered a thought to you at this moment

in one swift moment, he halts his movements earning a loud whine from you in response. you're immediately flipped over onto your stomach, colston presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder before sinking back into your warm walls, your manicured hands clutching at the comforter below you in response to the new sudden feeling that sends you reeling.

before you can even form your next thought, he plants his foot into the bed as his two large hands rub the small of your back. his hips begin pounding into the plush of your ass, toes curling as you couldn't help the moans that escape past your lips as a mere response.

"that's right, let it out" colston smirked to himself, "show me how good it feels." he grunted, his large hand coming down to smack your ass, which was surely going to leave a mark.

your hips poorly attempt to push back up against his to match his thrusts, "feels so good, s'good" you senselessly babble, not acknowledging the drool seeping from the corner of your mouth. the only thing you both were focused on was chasing after your own orgasms, that familiar warm, fuzzy feeling pooling in your stomach.

colston knows you're close, you know he's close, his pace is slowing down but his thrusts aren't softening and you're trying to run from him. luckily for you, his hands push down on your back resulting in your stomach pushing back into the soft mattress. "ssshhit, i'm close" you cried, reaching behind you, nails digging into his wrist for some kind of stability.

looking back at him you smiled, eyes low and hooded, "i know, my pretty baby", he says, leaning down to press a sloppy wet kiss to your lips. you're too lost into the kiss to realize that he's fucking you through your orgasm and you're squirting on him, but clearly this doesn't bother him.

as he pulls away from you, you fall forward into the bed while he admires the leaking mess between your legs, but not before checking back in on you.

your hair was a mess, a few of your lash extensions missing, the bed had been completely messed up -- pillows and sheets hanging off the mattress.

"you okay baby, i wasn't too rough was i?" he questioned, scanning your face for any indication of discomfort.

you immediately shook your head "oh no no sweetheart, i enjoyed every minute of that, i love when you talk to me like that, it's so sexy." you giggled as you slowly sat up on your side.

colston helps you up to the bathroom as he walks behind you,

"next time you fuck me like that i'm getting you pregnant."

"alright y/n let's relax."

[loveforloveland]

love from loveland (blurb)

background: on valentines day, only colston can outdo his own girlfriend on valentines day, which includes putting her through the mattress.

(all pics from pinterest, all rights reserved)

word count: 3k

notes: happy valentines day! i dont know how i feel about the smut part of this blurb, got a bit too carried away

warnings: this is a alternative universe, smut warning, p in v unprotected.

Chicago woke up slow that morning.

Snow clung to the edges of the sidewalks outside, soft and powdery from the night before, the city quiet in that rare February stillness before traffic started humming again. Inside the house, though, it was warm, heater hissing gently, sunlight spilling through the tall windows in streaks.

Colston was already awake.

He lay on his back for a minute, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint sound of wind brushing the glass. Then he turned his head slightly.

Y/N was curled into him, one leg hooked lazily over his thigh, her cheek pressed against his chest like it had claimed permanent residence there. Her hair was a little messy, lips slightly parted, breathing soft and steady.

He smiled to himself.

Valentine’s Day.

He carefully slid his arm out from under her, trying not to wake her, but she shifted anyway, brows scrunching faintly.

“Where you going?” she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

He leaned down, pressing a slow kiss into her hairline.

“Nowhere far,” he murmured. “Go back to sleep.”

She made a small noise of protest, but her eyes stayed closed.

He slipped out of bed, pulling on sweats and a hoodie, padding downstairs barefoot. The kitchen still smelled faintly like the flowers he’d brought home two days earlier, fresh roses sitting in the vase he restocked every week without fail.

He started coffee.

A few minutes later, he came back upstairs with two mugs and climbed back into bed, settling beside her again.

She blinked this time, properly waking, eyelashes fluttering.

“Morning,” she whispered.

“Morning, beautiful.”

She squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you smiling like that?”

He handed her the mug. “’Cause it’s Valentine’s Day.”

She groaned dramatically and flopped back onto the pillow. “Don’t start.”

He laughed softly, brushing his thumb across her cheek.

“Lemme pay for your hair and nails today, mamas.”

Her eyes popped open again. “What?”

He shrugged casually. “You heard me.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Go get your little nude pink or whatever you be getting. Lemme take care of it.”

She stared at him, a slow grin spreading.

“You’re in a mood.”

He smirked. “Always.”

By noon, she was out the door wrapped in a long coat and boots, heading to her appointment while he stayed back, texting reservations, confirming details, making sure Nobu was exactly how he wanted it.

She chose a soft nude pink for her nails, clean, glossy, elegant. The kind that made her hands look delicate but intentional. She flexed her fingers in the salon light, admiring them.

Colston had already sent the money before she could even open her banking app.

She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.

Back home, the house felt different. Anticipatory. He’d showered, shaved, changed twice already.

Upstairs, her closet doors were open wide.

Red fabric lay draped across the bed.

The dress.

It was fitted in all the right places, sleek and dangerous without trying too hard. The kind of red that didn’t scream at everyones eyes.

She stepped into it slowly, adjusting the fabric over her hips, smoothing it down. The neckline dipped just enough. The slit was subtle but strategic.

Her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders. Makeup was clean, glowy, lashes fluttering perfectly into place.

She slipped on her heels last.

When she stepped out of the bedroom and into the hallway, Colston was at the bottom of the stairs, adjusting his cufflinks.

He looked up.

And froze.

Actually froze.

His eyes dragged up from her heels to her calves, up the slit of the dress, over her waist, her chest, her collarbone, her face.

“Damn,” he breathed.

She stopped halfway down the stairs, gripping the railing.

“What?”

He shook his head slowly like he was recalibrating.

“Mamas,” he said low, voice rough around the edges. “That red dress gon send me.”

She laughed softly, but the way he was looking at her made her stomach flip.

He walked up a few steps toward her, hands finding her waist immediately when she reached him.

“You tryin’ to kill me before dinner?” he muttered.

“It’s just a dress.”

“It is not just a dress.”

His hands tightened slightly at her hips, thumbs brushing the curve of her waist. He leaned down, lips ghosting her cheek.

“You look unreal.”

Her fingers traced along his suit jacket. “You clean up nice too.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He leaned back just enough to look at her fully again.

The house felt warmer suddenly.

“Ready?” he asked, though his eyes were saying something entirely different.

She nodded.

He grabbed her coat, draped it carefully over her shoulders like she was something fragile, even though he knew she wasn’t.

Downstairs, he opened the door for her, cold Chicago air rushing in. He helped her into the car, shutting the door gently before walking around to his side.

The city lights blurred past as they drove, snow reflecting neon and headlights in soft streaks.

He rested his hand on her thigh the entire ride.

Not possessive.

Just there.

Nobu glowed warmly against the winter night, sleek and intimate. He stepped out first, walking around to open her door.

His hand slid into hers as they walked inside.

And the entire time, every glance, every quiet compliment, every subtle brush of fingers across her back, he looked at her like that red dress really might be the end of him.

Dinner had been slow and indulgent.

Soft lighting. Low music. The kind of table tucked just enough into the corner to feel private without being hidden. He’d barely touched his phone. Barely looked at anything except her.

And now, driving back through downtown Chicago, the city lights blinking red and gold at every intersection, he was distracted in a very specific way.

Y/N sat in the passenger seat, coat open slightly from the warmth of the car, the red dress still doing exactly what it had done all night, existing loudly without making a sound.

They hit a red light.

Colston’s hand rested on the steering wheel.

But his eyes?

Not on the road.

They dipped.

Slowly.

Shamelessly.

Her chest rose and fell as she exhaled, completely aware.

She didn’t look at him at first.

“Colston.”

“Hmm?”

The light was still red.

His gaze didn’t move.

“Eyes up.”

“I am lookin’ up.”

She turned her head slowly. “You are absolutely not.”

He finally glanced at her face, expression innocent for about half a second.

Then his eyes flicked back down again.

The red dress dipped just enough at the neckline. The delicate shimmer of her collarbone under the streetlight glow. The soft curve he’d been mentally distracted by all night.

The light turned green.

A horn honked behind them.

He blinked, snapped his attention forward, and eased onto the gas.

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I can’t help it,” he muttered.

“Focus.”

“I am focused,” he insisted. “On what matters.”

She reached over and lightly smacked his shoulder.

The rest of the drive was quiet, but charged. His hand found her thigh again. Fingers tracing slow, absent patterns into the fabric of her dress.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, the air between them felt thicker than it had at dinner.

He got out first, walked around, opened her door like he always did.

Inside the house, it was warm again, lamps glowing, soft golden light against hardwood floors.

She kicked off her heels near the entryway with a relieved sigh.

“Best decision of the night,” she murmured.

He watched her for a second longer than necessary.

“Not the best.”

She turned. “Oh?”

He disappeared briefly toward the living room console.

Came back with a small black box.

Her eyebrows lifted immediately.

“Colston…”

“C’mere,” he said quietly.

She stepped closer, heart starting to thud a little.

He opened the box slowly.

Inside, nestled in velvet, was a tennis bracelet, clean, elegant diamonds that caught the light without screaming for it. And beside it, a delicate matching necklace. Simple. Timeless. Beautiful.

Her breath caught.

“You did not-”

“I did.”

“Colston.”

He took the bracelet out first, gently guiding her wrist into his hand. His touch was steady, careful, like he was handling something fragile.

The cool metal clicked softly into place against her skin.

He didn’t rush.

Then he stepped closer, lifting the necklace carefully.

“Turn around,” he murmured.

She did.

Her hair fell forward over one shoulder, exposing the back of her neck. He fastened the clasp slowly, fingers brushing warm skin in the process.

When he was done, he didn’t step back right away.

He let his hands rest lightly at her waist.

She turned around to face him.

The necklace settled perfectly against her collarbone, just above the neckline of the red dress.

His eyes dropped again.

Harder this time.

“Colston,” she said softly, half warning, half amused.

“What?” he asked, voice low.

“You’re staring.”

“I know.”

She laughed breathlessly. “You’re impossible.”

She stepped away briefly and grabbed a small gift bag from the couch.

“I got you something too,” she said, suddenly shy.

He took it, opening it carefully.

Inside was a sleek watch band upgrade he’d mentioned in passing weeks ago, along with a handwritten card folded neatly at the bottom.

He smiled instantly.

“This don’t compare,” she muttered.

He looked up at her, serious now.

“Don’t do that.”

“But-”

He stepped closer, setting the bag aside.

“You think I care about that?” he asked quietly. “You remembered something I said once and went and got it. That’s the point.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you.”

She smiled softly.

But then his eyes shifted again.

Back to the necklace.

The way the diamonds caught the light.

The way it rested right at the dip of her chest.

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

“You like it?” she asked.

He swallowed.

“Yeah.”

His gaze lingered.

She took a small step backward toward the hallway.

Then another.

He followed without thinking.

Her calves hit the edge of the bed upstairs.

She sat down slowly, hands braced behind her on the mattress.

He stood in front of her for a second, looking at her like he was memorizing the image.

The red dress.

The bracelet glinting softly at her wrist.

The necklace resting perfectly where he’d just clasped it.

“Colston,” she whispered.

He stepped forward, hands bracing on either side of her hips as he leaned down.

His suit jacket slid off his shoulders and onto the floor without him even noticing.

He pressed a slow kiss to her collarbone first.

Right beneath the necklace.

Then another along her shoulder.

She exhaled shakily, fingers curling into his shirt.

He lifted his head just enough to look at her.

“Still think that dress ain’t dangerous?” he murmured.

She smiled faintly.

Before she could answer, he leaned in.

Their lips met slow at first, soft, warm, familiar.

Then deeper.

His hand slid gently along her waist as he shifted forward, carefully easing her back against the mattress without breaking the kiss.

He hovered over her, weight supported on his arms, eyes flicking down one more time to the necklace he’d just given her, then back to her lips.

The cool metal of the necklace rested between her breasts. His gaze held hers, dark and hungry, before it dropped to take in the sight of her sprawled beneath him, marked by the gift and soon, he intended, by much more.

His hands slid down from her shoulders, over the curve of her ribs, gripping her hips tightly. He shifted his weight, kneeling back.

His hands moved to the backs of her thighs, pushing them up and apart. He didn’t ask. He just guided, lifting her legs until they were resting over his shoulders, bending her nearly in half.

He didn’t tease. He pushed inside with one long, relentless stroke, burying himself to the hilt. The angle was brutal, profound. She gasped and moaned, her head pressing back into the pillows, eyes wide. He was so deep it felt like he was in her lungs. He held there for a moment, letting her feel the full, stretch of it.

Then he began to move.

His thrusts were slow at first, a deep, grinding roll of his hips that dragged against every nerve ending. Each inward stroke was a claim. She could see the concentration on his face, the cords standing out in his neck, the sheer physical effort of holding himself back. But he wasn’t holding back for long.

The pace quickened. His hips snapped forward, driving into her with a force that jolted her body up the bed. The slap of skin grew louder, a wet, rhythmic punctuation to his ragged breaths.

And with every deep, penetrating thrust, she could see it, faint, unmistakable bulge low in her stomach, a movement of her smooth skin each time he hilted himself inside her.

He saw it too. His eyes were glued to it, watching the proof of his invasion with a kind of feral pride. The sight seemed to undo the last of his control. He fucked her harder, deeper, chasing that visual, making the bulge appear again and again.

The sensation was overwhelming. The depth, the friction, the shocking, visible evidence of his size, it was too much. Her hands flew to his forearms, her fingers digging into the hard muscle there as if she were clinging to a cliff edge. A high, strained whine escaped her throat, building into a broken cry of his name.

“Colstonnnn…!”

It was a plea and a protest all in one, a sound from her seemed to snap something in him. He slowed, pulling out of her with a wet sound that made her feel suddenly, achingly empty. Before she could protest, his hands were on her again, flipping her over onto her stomach with a rough, easy strength.

“Up,” he commanded, his voice a hoarse rasp. He tapped her hip. “On your knees. Now.”

She scrambled to comply, her body buzzing. She got onto her hands and knees, the sheets rough against her skin. He moved behind her, his hands gripping the swell of her hips, his thumbs digging into the dimples at the base of her spine. He aligned himself and pushed back in, a single stroke that made her cry out again into the mattress.

But he wasn’t done. One hand left her hip, his fingers tangling in her hair. He didn’t pull hard, just guided, turning her head to the side, forcing her gaze upward.

To the mirror.

The large mirror on the dresser across the room reflected them perfectly. She saw herself first, face flushed, hair wild as his hands fisted it, eyes glassy with pleasure.

She saw the line of her back, the curve of her ass in the air, and him behind her. Colston fucking her with a powerful rhythm. She saw the necklace swinging wildly between her breasts with every thrust.

“Look,” he growled, his eyes locked on hers in the mirror. His movements didn’t stop, if anything, they became more faster. “Look at that. See it? See how you’re taking all of me?”

And she saw. She saw the way her body collided into his, the reality of their joining. It was mesmerizing. Her own reflection looked back at her, her being thoroughly fucked, and loving it. A blush of shame was burned away by a hotter wave of arousal. He was making her watch her own submission.

“See how that pretty pussy swallows me up?” he continued, his voice thick and urgent. He gave a particularly hard thrust that made her eyes roll back for a second before he forced her gaze back to the mirror with a simple pull of her hair.

“That’s my girl. Taking every fuckin’ inch.”

He was close. She could feel it in the tightening of his hands on her, in the ragged, uneven rhythm of his breathing, in the way his thrusts became shorter, harder, more desperate. His eyes in the mirror were black pools of need, fixed on the point where their bodies met.

“Gonna fill you up,” he promised, a guttural stream of words against the shell of her ear as he leaned over her back, his chest pressing against her spine.

“Gonna nut so deep in this pussy…gon' feel this for days.…”

The filth of it, combined with the visual in the mirror and the relentless pounding of his body into hers, sent her over the edge. She came with a silent scream, her body clamping down around him in violent spasms that milked him desperately.

It tipped him over the brink. He slammed into her one last time and held there, his body arching as he came deep inside her. She could feel the hot, pulsing rush of his release that was extremely warming.

He collapsed forward, his weight pressing her down into the mattress, his breath scorching her shoulder. In the mirror, she watched their reflection, a tangled, sweaty mess. His arms came around her, one hand splaying possessively over her lower stomach.

For a long time, the only sound was their slowing breaths. The necklace was cold between her breasts. His release was warm inside her. He nuzzled her neck, pressing a damp kiss there.

“Mine,” he breathed, the word final, echoing the proof he’d just left deep within her.

[bitchinbarzal]

Big | C Loveland

18+ content!

⸻

You knew he was big.

You knew. The kind of big you feel when he holds your hips down with one hand like it’s nothing, when his thigh presses against yours and you realize you’re barely spanning it.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for the way he feels inside you.

The way your body stretches slow and tight and loud around him because you can’t stop making noise.

You didn’t even realize you were doing it until you hear him laugh under his breath, low and sweet, voice thick with awe.

“You’re so fuckin’ loud, baby.”

You blink up at him, flushed and panting, trying to keep still as he sinks in deeper. “Sorry—”

“Don’t apologize.” He groans, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “You don’t even know what it’s doing to me.”

He thrusts a little further in careful, watching your face, breath shallow.

“There it is,” he whispers, grinning. “That pretty little sound.”

“Colston—” your voice breaks. “You’re so, big it’s too-”

He kisses you. Soft and slow.

“You can take it. You’re doin’ so good for me.”

His hand slips under your thigh, pulling your leg up around his waist, changing the angle and you scream.

Not scared. Not in pain.

Just too full. Too stretched. Too wrecked.

“Fuck-“ you gasp. “You’re all the way in-”

He moans, hips stuttering.

“Yeah, you feel that, baby? Feel how deep I am?”

You nod, eyes glossy, mouth open. You can’t stop whimpering. It’s embarrassing, the way your breath catches, the way you moan at every inch, but he’s obsessed.

He leans in, kisses your cheek, your temple, your lips.

“I love how noisy you are,” he pants, rocking into you slow, deep. “Tells me I’m hittin’ the right spots. Tells me this pussy’s mine.”

You’re nodding again, hands clutching at his arms, crying out with every thrust.

He’s sweating. Groaning now, his rhythm picking up, your slick soaking both of you, the sheets ruined, the whole damn room echoing with your moans and his praise.

“You sound so sweet when I stretch you,” he murmurs, voice wrecked. “Like you were made to be filled like this.”

And when you come clenching tight around him with a wail you couldn’t hold back if you tried, he loses it. Groaning into your neck, burying himself deep, filling you with everything he’s got while whispering:

“Loudest, prettiest girl I’ve ever been inside. Gonna hear that sound for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”

You’re still sore.

Not in a bad way but in a can feel him in every step kind of way. In a he fucked me so good I forgot my name kind of way. You’re limping a little as you pull on one of his hoodies, your thighs sticky, your voice raw.

But Colston’s walking around like he didn’t ruin you at all. Shirtless, sweatpants slung low, smug and unbothered while he makes you coffee.

And that’s when he says it.

Over his shoulder, casual. Like he’s commenting on the weather.

“You know I didn’t even give you all of it last night, right?”

You freeze.

“…what?”

He turns slowly, mug in hand, grinning.

“I was halfway in. Maybe a little more.”

Your stomach flips.

“You were only, that was only half?”

He sips his coffee, eyes trailing over your body, the hoodie barely covering the curve of your ass. “Baby. You were sobbing. You came twice. Screamed my name. I didn’t wanna break you.”

You blink, breath catching.

“Break me.”

His brow lifts.

You step closer, bare feet padding across the kitchen floor, voice low.

“I want the rest.”

He stares at you. Slowly sets the mug down. “Say it again.”

“I want all of it. Every inch. I wanna feel what it’s like when you stop holding back.”

He’s on you in two seconds.

Lifting you onto the counter, his hands hot on your thighs, mouth crashing into yours like he’s starving.

“You sure, baby?” he murmurs, breath shaky as he drags your panties to the side. “You were already crying from half.”

“I’ll cry louder,” you breathe. “Just give it to me.”

He groans, pulling his sweats down just enough to free himself and when you glance down he wasn’t lying.

You hadn’t even seen it all last night. It’s thick, long, veiny, flushed and heavy in his hand and when he lines up and presses in, it already feels like too much.

You moan. Loud. Head thrown back.

But you don’t stop him.

“Deeper,” you beg, nails digging into his back. “Colston please I need it.”

He kisses your jaw, your throat, whispering:

“I’m gonna give it to you, baby. Gonna fuck you so full you’ll feel me for days.”

He pushes in deeper.

Your moans get higher. Louder. Wrecked.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Take it. Let me all the way in. Show me you can handle my cock like a big girl.”

You sob, legs shaking, and when he finally bottoms out with the full stretch, the pressure, the weight of it you cry out, overwhelmed.

“Holy fuck-“

He grins against your skin.

“There she is.”

And then he starts to move.

Slow. Deep. Complete.

Every inch of him hitting every inch of you. Every sound spilling out of your mouth like music to his ears.

“I told you,” he moans. “I hadn’t even started last night.”

He’s just inside you, holding you there like he’s savoring it.

Like he’s afraid if he starts, he’ll never stop.

“You feel that?” he pants, grinding his hips forward just a little. “That’s all of me, baby. Every fucking inch.”

You gasp, your body already twitching around him, your voice high and wrecked. “I-Colston, I didn’t know it could feel like this-”

He groans, bends over your back, kisses your spine.

“You’re gripping me so tight,” he murmurs, dragging one of his hands around to your stomach. “You’re made for this. Made to take all of me.”

He pulls out slow and you whine, breath catching. When he thrusts back in? It knocks the air from your lungs.

“Fuck,” you cry out. “You’re so deep Colston—”

“Yeah?” His voice is raspier now. Hungrier. “You wanted the full thing, didn’t you, baby? Wanted to know what I’ve been holding back?”

You nod frantically, face pressed to the counter, your hips arching back into him like instinct.

“Tell me you can take it,” he grits, driving into you harder now, hands spreading you open like he’s making sure you feel it everywhere.

“I can,” you sob, moaning when his hips meet yours. “Please don’t stop, please—”

He curses under his breath, picking up the pace. Every thrust now is pure sin m the slap of skin on skin, the counter creaking beneath you, the filthy wet sounds of how ruined you are already.

“You hear that?” he growls. “That’s what your pussy sounds like when it’s being fucked right.”

You moan loud and high and he grins, rutting into you deeper.

“Louder, baby. Let the neighbors know you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, fuck—”

He reaches around, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles as your thighs start to give out beneath you.

“Oh my God—” you cry.

“Don’t run,” he whispers into your neck. “Don’t fucking run from it.”

Your legs are shaking. Your body’s pulsing. It builds too fast. Too much. He knows it, wants it and he chases it with every thrust, every word, every groan of your name.

“You gonna come on this cock?” he pants. “Gonna come with me still deep inside you?”

You sob his name again, falling apart completely, legs buckling, body collapsing into the counter as you come so hard your vision goes white.

He groans, gripping your hips, fucking into your orgasm until he follows loud and broken spilling deep inside you with a desperate, “that’s it, baby, fuck, take it-”

He stays pressed to your back, breathing heavy, lips on your shoulder, both of you trembling.

“I’m never holding back again,” he whispers. “You hear me?”

You nod.

“Good. ’Cause now I wanna feel you ride it.”

[spacecasey]

meet me at our spot || Ao'nung x Sully!reader || 1.86k

fluff, a little spice (but not necessarily mature), hiding your relationship, "skxawng" = idiot/moron, "ma yawne"= my beloved, this has been marinating in my Google Docs since the movie came out

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Bye mom! Bye, dad. See you guys,” you say, stuffing a crab leg in your mouth and grabbing one for the road. “Wait, wait, wait,” Jake calls after you, stopping you in the doorframe. Agh! So close!

Your entire family was looking at you- even Tuk, and her attention was hard to gain. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Your dad asks, sounding curious and amused at your rush. You begin to shuffle nervously where you stood, shifting your weight from foot to foot. Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to figure out a believable excuse.

He says your name sternly. “Where are you going?” He repeats, slower and firmer. Finally, you were able to get the words out. “To see Ao’nung. A-and Tsireya and um Rotxo.” You add the last part hurriedly, just in case, to keep your cover. Neteyam and Lo’ak exchange a knowing look between them, which didn't go unnoticed by Netiri. “What?” She asks your brothers.

They look at her, then at you, then at each other. Then Lo’ak turns to you, and Neteyam turns to your mother. “We’re just surprised that she's making friends so quickly,” Neteyam tells her, sweetly. Your mother was silent for a moment. Your heart thrums in your chest as you feel nervous about her pause. Does she know? Eventually, she hums and goes back to serving dinner to your siblings.

You wait in the doorway a moment longer, just to be sure. “Can I go?” You finally ask. “Sure, but be back by eclipse,” Jake tells you. You exhale a sigh of relief and smile. “I will, dad.” You kiss your mom on the cheek, shoot your brothers a suspicious glance and blow Tuk and Kiri a kiss. “See you guys, later!” You shout, running out of the hut.

At the edge of the pathway, you dive into the water. A click resonates in your throat and a moment later, your Ilu nudges itself into your hand. You grip the handle between its shoulder blades, allowing yourself to be pulled along.

Every time you and Ao'nung hung out, he'd always choose a different place. He said he wanted to show off his village and the surrounding islands to you. But you had a hunch it might've been because he was the Olo'eyktan's son and if he was seen courting you without the proper rituals done beforehand, both of you would be in a world of trouble.

As you near the beach that Ao’nung had told you to meet him at, you click again, signaling your Ilu to slow. You pat her side and let go, drifting to a stop in the water. She nudges at your palm, singing and clicking to you. You kiss her head, a substitute you'd started using upon forgetting how to sign ‘thank you’ in Metkayina. Satisfied, she swims off.

The island was small- about the size of the hut your family was staying in and devoid of vegetation except for some seagrass that was mostly wilting, which led you to believe that this island was only around when the tide was out. Sitting in the middle, facing away from you, was Ao’nung. He was hunched slightly, his arm extended, writing something in the sand by his feet. As you step onto the small island, he turns. His hearing was impeccable. How he managed to hear the slightest shift in the sand was beyond you. But your confusion quickly melts as he smiles.

“Hello, beautiful,” he says, kicking away his writing in the sand. “Hey, skxawng,” you call back, grinning widely so he knew you meant it playfully.

He drops his head back and laughs at your comment. You couldn’t help but stare.

Ao’nung was still dripping from his own swim over here. A drop of water falls from his curls onto his chest, tracing down his turquoise skin slowly.

Every cell in your body was yelling at you to go to him.

You bite your lip and rush to embrace him. He lifts his head just in time to catch you as you leap into his arms.

He spins you around as you bury your face into the junction of his neck and shoulder. “I missed you,” he tells you in between kisses to your neck and along the side of your jaw. “It’s only been a day,” you remind him, a little breathless from all the affection, lifting your head. “It’s been too long. I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admits, nuzzling at your neck gently, finding your pulse. He grazes his teeth there ever so gently, making you shiver. Both of you knew that you couldn't leave marks; it would cause too much of a stir. But that didn't stop him from pushing his luck.

He finally set you down and you both looked at each other. It had only been a day, but he looked almost as if he'd gone a year without seeing you. And it's not like you hadn't seen each other in passing. It was a relatively small community. And he and the other teens were teaching you and your family the way of the water. But it'd been a day without you; without holding you, without loving you.

“Sit with me,” he offered, gently taking your hand. He led you over to where he had been sitting, resting an arm around your shoulders. His free hand trailed his fingers through the sand absently. Both of you were silent as you stared at the waves. There was nothing to say. You both knew that you loved each other. No need to be cute and sappy about it.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks after a long while. “Nothing,” you say softly. “Is it that a real ‘nothing’ or do you just not want to share?” You just shrug, smiling sweetly at him. Ao’nung sighs. “C'mon, be honest with me yawne.” You blush, your smile growing stupidly.

“I… I'm just imagining how people will react to… us.” His expression turns thoughtful. “Ah… well…” He pauses, folding his arms as he looks at the beginning twilight sky.

“Let's see… I'm the son of the Olo'eyktan of the Metkayina. And you are the daughter of the former Olo'eyktan of the Omitakaya who is also Toruk Makto… Our biggest concern is our parents. If anyone in the village has a problem with it, they have bigger concerns,” he amends, smiling brightly at you. You can't help but smile softly. “I think our biggest concern is our mom's. Your mom doesn't… seem to like us very much…”

“She likes your mom. But she thinks your dad is still…” “I know what she thinks,” you say softly, looking away. “He's Na'vi now… He shouldn't have to prove himself… And neither should we.” You absently wiggle your fingers, staring at your extra digit.

Ao’nung takes your hand, bringing it to his face. “You don't need to prove yourself to me,” he whispers, pressing kisses to your fingertips. You feel a blush burn at your cheeks, your blue skin going purple. “You never need to prove yourself to me, ma yawne.”

“Hey, Ao’nung?” He hums softly, continuing his gentle assault on your fingers. “I love you,” you say, your voice small but full of longing and truth. He lifts his eyes, his gaze warm and adoring. “I love you too.”

His lips find yours easily, his hands holding your face like you were precious. Never before had you kissed like this. It was always a quick needy peck if it was on the lips. Or slow and cautious if it was along your neck or shoulders.

This was different. A mixture of both slow and needy. His lips moved insistently, practically begging you for more, which you gave him easily.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours, panting softly as he tried to catch his breath. Both of your faces were purple now with a blush. His thumbs gently pressed into your cheek, rubbing circles. “Hi,” you breathed. “Hi,” he whispers back, smiling stupidly. He was only apart from you for a few seconds before he collided with you again.

Ao’nung gently pushes you back, laying you down on the sand.

Your stomach jumps at his actions, a small sound leaving your lips that he swallows. His hand slides across your waist, rubbing firm circles into your hip with his thumb. “Ao’nung,” you mumble, your words dissolving on his tongue. “Ao’nung,” you repeat, your voice strained with pleasure.

“What?” He whispers, pulling back only enough to hear you, his lips still brushing yours. You hesitate, realizing you didn't actually have anything to tell him, you just liked to say his name. He smiles, understanding your pause, nosing at your cheek. “Can I continue?” He murmurs. You simply nod, too embarrassed to find the words.

He crashes into you with such force your teeth gnash. You wince, but neither of you stop. He holds your face firmly, as if thinking you might escape.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Holy Eywa!” You exclaim, sitting up. “What's wrong?” Ao’nung asks, his eyes a little blurry but warm with affection. “I'm supposed to be home by Eclipse!” You gasp, eyes wide and a little nervous.

Ao’nung turns to look at the sky, confused, but he pales as he realizes that it's maybe ten minutes to Eclipse. “Great Mother, we gotta get you home!” He says, jumping to his feet. He pulls you to your feet roughly, his hands fretting all over you, fixing your hair and your clothes, trying to make it look like you didn't just get made out with.

He fixes his own clothes once you're decent, pushing you towards the water. He whistles for his Ilu, who comes racing up, as if waiting nearby. “Take Kiluk, he will get you there swiftly.” You dig your heels into the sand, worried about him. “But what about you?” You knew he couldn't take Kiluk with you. You couldn't be seen coming back together from Eywa-knows-where.

“I don't have to be home until Eclipse is full. You go and he'll come back for me. Now, hurry!” He says, reassuringly, gently pushing you into the water. Kiluk nudges at your palm, clicking softly as if sensing the urgency.

“But-” “No, buts, ma yawne, you need to go. If he doesn't come back for me, I'll swim.” “Where should I meet you tomorrow?” You ask, moving to sit on Kiluk's back, as if riding a Direhorse.

Ao’nung smiles at your improper stance, gently adjusting your body. “Right here.” “Are you sure?” You ask, eyes slightly wide. You knew he didn't like to meet in the same place twice in a row, just to be safe. “Yes, I'm sure,” he sighs, nudging you to go ahead. “But you-” “I know,” he says, his tone becoming a little annoyed at your insistence. “Look, you need to go home. Or we won't be able to meet like this ever again. Now please, stop fighting me, ma yawne.”

He cups your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Okay,” you murmur. “I'll see you tomorrow then.” “Yes, you will,” he promises.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A/N: I wrote this when Way of the Water first came out. it's been sitting in my Google Docs since December of 2022. I just reworked it a bit before posting

[lilacnavi]

enemy’s daughter

pairings: aged up lo'ak x mangkwan female reader

notes: some spoilers (?), sneaking around, courting in a way, reader doesn't take after her mother's bitchiness, father and son moments, near death situations, tsaheylu, betrayal, varang loves you in her own way, mentions of neteyam. smut, pussy eating, p in v sex.

word count: 8.5k

prompt: lo'ak was only meant to survey the people of the ash clan from afar but then he saw you, one mangkwan that seems different from the rest of your clan, physically and personality wise. he observes you for a while not noticing he’s becoming entranced with you as he does. he made sure to befriend you and make you see that they are not the enemy. soon, both of you are caught at the crossfire of ashes, love, and war.

masterlist

credits to the gif owner

The scorched volcanic landscape of the Ash Clan territory stretched out like a wound on Pandora's skin, jagged black rocks jutting from the ground amid swirling ash clouds that choked the air.

Lo'ak moved with the stealth of a shadow, his deep blue skin blending imperfectly with the charred earth as he crouched low, golden eyes scanning the horizon. He was on a solo mission, far from the vibrant reefs of his Metkayina home, driven by a restless curiosity about the Mangkwan people, the Ash Clan, as they were often called for their harsh, fire-touched lands.

His father had warned him against it, borders were sacred, and crossing them uninvited could mean death.

"If you're seen, skxawng, your head's on a stick." Jake had growled, but Lo'ak's rebellious spirit chafed at the unknown.

He wanted to understand, to bridge the gaps his family had widened in their endless flight from enemies.

He stayed at the edges, careful not to fully trespass, his lithe body, toned from years of swimming and hunting, black braids swaying with each cautious step, hugging the rocky outcrops. The heat from buried lava vents warmed his bare feet, and his tail flicked nervously behind him, ears angled forward for any sign of danger.

That's when he saw you.

You emerged from a cluster of twisted, heat-resistant vines, your light gray skin dusted with fine ash that made you look like a ghost in the barren expanse. Where Lo'ak's form was a deep, oceanic blue, yours was ethereal silver-gray, shimmering faintly under the hazy sun as if woven from moonlight. Your hair was pure white, a cascade of intricate braids adorned with obsidian beads and feathers scorched at the edges, flowed down your back, stark against the desolation, something Lo'ak had never seen or even heard of among the Na'vi clans. And your eyes... silver, like polished metal catching the light, sharp and watchful as you knelt beside an injured clan member, your movements fluid and precise.

He froze behind a boulder, heart pounding, fascinated.

You were beautiful in a way that stole his breath, your body graceful yet strong, curves accentuated by the simple wraps of woven ash-fiber cloth that clung to your full breasts and the swell of your hips, your perky ass showing as you shifted to apply a poultice of healing herbs. Despite the harsh conditions, you moved with bravery, unafraid of the rumbling earth or the acrid smoke, your tail curling protectively around the wounded warrior's leg.

Lo'ak watched as you cooed softly to a small hexapede creature that had wandered too close, its hide singed, you extended a gentle hand, stroking its flank until it nuzzled against you, your silver eyes softening with a kindness that pierced the gloom.

She tends to them like they're her own, he thought, a warmth blooming in his chest. Not like the stories of fierce Ash warriors, this was hope, a glimpse that not all people from her clan hid monsters.

In that moment, Lo'ak decided.

He wanted to reach out, to befriend you, to show that the Sully family and the other clans wasn't the enemy the Mangkwans whispered about. If he could earn your trust, maybe it could mend something larger. But he was patient, observing from afar for days, his golden eyes tracing your every move.

Each time, his fondness grew.

You were the prettiest he'd ever seen, prettier than the graceful Metkayina girls back home, even Tsireya with her soft smiles and bioluminescent skin. Your white hair caught the wind like fresh snow on volcanic rock, your light gray body lithe and powerful as you scaled ridges or gathered rare blooms from fissures. He found himself lingering longer than necessary, his tail twitching with unspoken admiration, a pull in his gut that felt dangerously like longing.

You noticed the signs almost immediately.

As you patrolled the outer volcanic ridges one afternoon, your silver eyes narrowing at the faint imprint of a footprint in the softer ash. Too large, too fresh, not from your clan's smaller, adapted feet. Your ears pinned back warily, tail lashing behind you as you scanned the shadows that seemed to shift just beyond the haze.

Someone was watching.

The Ash Clan's territory was no place for outsiders, the scorched lands bred suspicion, and traps were as common as the lava flows. You gripped your spear tighter, your gray-skinned arms tensing, muscles rippling under the fine layer of protective ash that coated your body like a second skin. Beautiful as the landscape was in its raw fury, it was unforgiving, whoever this was, they could be a scout from rival clans, or worse, sky people remnants.

The gifts started appearing near your patrol paths, neutral tokens that puzzled you.

First, a smooth, brightly colored stone, vibrant turquoise and gold, impossible to find in the ash-choked volcanic soil, its surface cool and foreign to the touch.

You picked it up with cautious fingers, turning it over in your palm, your white braids falling forward as you crouched. It was pretty, almost thoughtful, but suspicion gnawed at you.

Not from here, you thought, silver eyes darting around. A trap? Bait?

Days later, another gift. A small carved leaf, intricately etched with veins that mimicked the lush greenery of distant forests, its wood unburnt and fragrant, nothing like the charred remnants in your territory.

You held it to your nose, inhaling the faint, green scent, your tail curling curiously despite the wariness tightening your chest. Whoever left these knew your paths but stayed hidden, their intent unclear.

Friend or foe?

Your heart raced, a mix of intrigue and fear flushing your gray cheeks.

Then came the voice, soft from a safe distance, carried on the hot wind.

"Not here to harm." The voice whispered one evening as you gathered water from a steaming spring, your body glistening with sweat that traced rivulets down your neck and between your breasts.

You whipped around, spear raised, ears flattening as a low hiss escaped your full lips. There, atop a distant ridge, a silhouette, deep blue skin, black braids whipping in the breeze but he vanished before you could strike. The words lingered, gentle and persistent, like the rumble of the earth itself.

Over the following days, the interactions grew bolder, though he remained unseen most times. Lo'ak left food caches, fresh fruits from the reefs, wrapped in broad leaves that spoke of ocean bounty, placed where you'd find them after long patrols. Your stomach growled at the sight, but you eyed them suspiciously before tasting, the sweetness exploding on your tongue like a forbidden luxury.

Small gifts followed, a polished shell, iridescent and whole, or markings on trails, subtle arrow etchings in the rock guiding you to hidden oases amid the lava fields.

And the whispers...

"You're strong out here." He'd murmur from the shadows during your hunts, his voice warm with genuine awe, golden eyes, though you couldn't see them, fixed on your brave form as you defended a nesting prolemuris from ash storms. "I see how you care for them. It's... beautiful."

Tension simmered in the air, thick as the volcanic haze.

Lo'ak admired you from his vantage points, heart swelling at the hope you embodied, your kindness a light in the desolation, your silver eyes holding stories he yearned to hear. He saw potential for understanding, for something more, his persistent calls like a child's earnest plea, undeterred by your snarls or warning hisses that echoed across the ridges.

"I just want to know you." He'd say softly one dawn, as you bathed in a thermal pool, water steaming around your lithe gray body, white hair slicked back, unaware of his distant gaze.

The words made your ears twitch, a reluctant softness creeping in. He didn't lunge or threaten, he waited, respected your space, his empathy weaving through the barriers like vines through rock.

You began to trust his presence slowly, intrigued by this outsider who saw beyond the Ash Clan's fierce reputation to the true self you guarded so closely.

During a quiet patrol, you paused at another gift,'a woven cord of sea grasses, strong and blue-hued and whispered back into the wind.

"Why do this? Who are you?" Your voice carried curiosity now, tail swishing less aggressively, silver eyes searching the horizons with a spark of interest rather than pure suspicion.

He didn't answer directly, but a soft chuckle echoed faintly, warm and reassuring.

"Someone who sees you." Came the reply, laced with respect.

It was enough to make your guarded heart stir, the tension between you pulling like an unseen thread.

~

Back in the reefs of the Metkayina Clan, the world was a stark contrast, vibrant blues and greens, the air salty and alive with the calls of ilu and the laughter of clanmates.

Lo'ak surfaced from a dive, water streaming down his deep blue skin, black braids heavy and dripping as he hauled himself onto the woven platform of his family's marui. The sun dipped low, painting the ocean in fiery hues, but his golden eyes were distant, mind far from the familiar waves.

He thought of you, your face, those striking silver eyes that pierced like stars in the ash night, the graceful sway of your white-braided hair as you moved through your harsh world. Your body, lithe and strong, gray skin glowing in the volcanic light, the way your tail had started to curl less defensively when his whispers reached you. And that softening... the subtle tilt of your ears, the hesitant smiles you offered the wind when you found his gifts. It felt like an achievement, a crack in the armor of your suspicion, warming him from within.

But as he sat there, tail idly flicking against the damp wood, guilt twisted in his gut.

Tsireya.

His bond with her was steady, her gentle touches and shared swims a comfort in the clan's welcoming embrace. Yet lately, he'd been pulling away, excusing himself from evening hunts with her, his thoughts drifting to the borders, to you, the Mangkwan Na'vi who haunted his dreams.

"Lo'ak?" Tsireya's voice called from the water below, her lithe form breaking the surface, bioluminescent freckles glowing faintly as she smiled up at him, tail swishing playfully.

But he barely registered it, golden eyes unfocused.

The internal conflict raged, loyalty to her, the pull toward you, a forbidden fascination blooming in the scorched unknown. How could he explain the way his heart raced at the thought of your silver gaze, the romantic tension that thrummed like a distant drum?

He shook his head, diving back into the sea to escape the turmoil and Tsireya's calls, but your image followed him into the depths.

The next day dawned with a hazy veil over the volcanic ridges, the air thick with the scent of sulfur and distant rumbles from the earth's restless core.

Lo'ak couldn't stay away.

The pull toward you was magnetic, stronger than the warnings echoing in his mind or the dangers of the Ash Clan's borders. He crept closer than before, his deep blue skin smeared with ash to camouflage his form, black braids tied back tightly to avoid snagging on the jagged rocks. His golden eyes scanned the familiar patrol paths, heart thumping with a mix of excitement and nerves.

He had to see you again, to speak without the barrier of distance, to bridge the gap he'd been chipping at with whispers and gifts.

But caution slipped in his eagerness. A misplaced step cracked a brittle stone, the sound sharp against the low hiss of steam vents. Before he could retreat, strong hands seized him, Mangkwan warriors, their gray bodies tense and spears leveled. Lo'ak struggled briefly, his lithe muscles flexing under their grip, tail lashing in defiance, but they bound his wrists with rough grips and dragged him toward the heart of the territory.

His mind raced.

Skxawng, what now?

They hauled him before Varang, the Tsahìk, who stood imposingly on a raised platform of blackened lava rock, her dark eyes narrowing like storm clouds.

Varang's presence was commanding, her lithe frame wrapped in ritualistic beads and ash-dyed fibers that accentuated her sharp features and the fierce lines of her body. She circled Lo'ak slowly, her tail flicking with predatory interest, silver markings on her skin glinting in the dim light.

"Who are you, intruder?" She demanded, her voice a low growl laced with suspicion, ears pinning back as she leaned in close, nostrils flaring to catch his foreign scent, salty reefs and ocean breeze, unmistakable. "What clan dares send a spy into our lands? Speak or I'll carve the answers from your hide."

Her hand tightened on her staff, the tip sharpening toward his throat, her body coiling like a viper ready to strike.

Lo'ak met her gaze steadily, golden eyes defiant despite the fear knotting his gut. His chest heaved, broad shoulders squared under the strain of the bonds, but before Varang could lunge, a voice cut through the tension.

Yours.

You burst from the shadows of a nearby crevice, your light gray skin flushed with urgency, white braids bouncing against your back as you sprinted forward. The beads in your hair clinked softly, a stark contrast to the chaos. Your silver eyes locked on the scene, widening in recognition as the whispers from the wind and the flashes of blue skin with black braids finally gained a face.

There he was, the source of the gifts, the gentle voice.

Handsome in a way that made your breath hitch. Deep blue skin stretched over toned muscles honed by sea and sky, black braids framing a face with high cheekbones and full lips curved in surprise, golden eyes that sparkled with a mix of relief and awe. His body was strong, chest rising and falling rapidly, the simple loincloth doing little to hide the powerful lines of his thighs and the subtle flex of his abs as he strained against his captors.

"Sa'nok." You called out, your voice firm despite the pounding of your heart, stepping between them with unyielding bravery.

The warriors hesitated, spears lowering slightly as you positioned yourself protectively in front of Lo'ak, your tail curling possessively behind you. You reached back, fingers brushing his bound arm before gripping it firmly, pulling him a step away from the danger.

The contact sent a jolt through you, his skin warm, textured differently from your own smooth gray hide, roughened by salt and sun. Up close, he smelled of the sea, clean and invigorating, stirring something deep in your chest.

You leaned in slightly, your lips near his ear, whispering with a fierce tenderness. "I won't let her hurt you."

Your heart thundering so loudly you wondered if he could hear it over the rumble of the ground. Your silver eyes flicked to his, holding his gaze for a breathless moment, conveying the resolve burning in you.

Varang's eyes narrowed further, her body tensing, staff still raised. "Ma'ite, step aside. This trespasser threatens us all."

Her tone was edged with warning, ears flattening as she assessed you, the defiance in your stance, a mirror of her own unyielding spirit but turned against her.

You straightened, chin lifting defiantly, your gray-skinned arms crossing over your chest, which rose and fell with controlled breaths. The scant wraps of ash-weave cloth shifted with the movement, hugging the curves of your full breasts and the dip of your waist.

"No, Sa'nok. He will answer to me." You declared, your voice steady, laced with authority you rarely wielded against her. You tugged Lo'ak closer, making it clear he was under your claim. "I've been tracking him. He's my prisoner, useful for information on the outsiders. Let me handle him."

Your silver eyes bored into hers, unblinking, tail swishing with barely contained rebellion. The warriors exchanged glances, and Varang paused, her lips pressing into a thin line.

After a tense silence, she nodded curtly, lowering her staff. "Do not fail me, child. If he messes up, it's on your head."

Relief flooded you as you turned, pulling Lo'ak with you by the arm, your grip firm but not cruel. You led him swiftly away from the central gathering, weaving through the scorched paths until you reached a secluded alcove behind a cluster of heat-twisted boulders. There, you whirled on him, silver eyes flashing with a mix of anger and concern.

Your white braids whipped around your face, and you hissed lowly, ears pinning back. "Why are you here? Do you know how stupid this is? My mother would have killed you without a second thought!"

Your hands still clutched his arm, fingers digging in slightly, feeling the warmth of his blue skin pulse under your touch.

Up close, his beauty struck you harder, those golden eyes wide and dazed, lips parted as if words failed him, his chest heaving close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

Lo'ak stared at you, utterly dazed, his heart pounding like a war drum in his ears.

Finally, he was this close, no ridges or haze between you. Your light gray skin glowed softly in the dim light, silver eyes piercing and alive, white hair framing a face of ethereal beauty that made his breath catch. And your touch... your fingers on his arm sent sparks racing up his spine, the contact electric.

He swallowed hard, voice coming out dumbly, almost boyish. "I'm Lo'ak."

His golden eyes roamed your features, taking in the curve of your full lips, the graceful line of your neck, the way your body stood strong and unyielding before him.

You rolled your silver eyes, a frustrated huff escaping your lips, but the corner of your mouth twitched upward despite yourself. "Okay, now go before someone else finds you."

Yet, as you spoke, your hands lingered, still holding his arm, faces inches apart. Your breaths mingled, hearts racing in sync, the air between you charged with unspoken tension. His scent enveloped you, and for a moment, you couldn't pull away, silver eyes searching his golden ones, seeing the raw honesty there.

Lo'ak saw it then, your courage, the inner goodness shining through your defiance, the way you'd risked your mother's wrath for a stranger's voice in the wind. It deepened his admiration, making his chest tighten with something profound.

Persistent as ever, like a child refusing to leave a game, he leaned in slightly, voice soft and earnest.

"Wait... can I take you somewhere? Somewhere safe. Please." His free hand hovered near yours, golden eyes pleading, tail flicking hopefully behind him.

Hesitation flickered in your silver eyes, but the pull was too strong, the curiosity, the kindness in his gaze. With a quick glance over your shoulder, you nodded, untying his bonds with deft fingers.

"Fine. But if this is a trick..." You trailed off, grabbing his hand instead, leading him away from the ashen borders.

You escaped together into the lush, alive areas just beyond the Mangkwan territory, where the scorched earth gave way to thriving pockets untouched by volcanic fury. The transition was like stepping into a dream, the ground softened underfoot, carpeted in vibrant moss that glowed faintly with bioluminescent veins. Soft winds carried the sweet scent of blooming nightflowers, and gentle sounds of life, chirps of tiny winged creatures, the rustle of leaves, filled the air.

Wood sprites, delicate and ethereal, floated around you like living stars, their translucent forms pulsing with soft light as they danced on the breeze. Your silver eyes widened in wonder, the harsh lines of your world melting away as you took it in. The air felt alive, Eywa's presence clear and enveloping, wrapping around your gray skin like a warm embrace.

Lo'ak watched you, a soft smile curving his lips at the childlike awe on your face, your white braids catching the glow, making you look even more otherworldly beautiful.

"What... what are those?" You asked, voice hushed with awe, pointing to the wood sprites swirling around your outstretched hand.

Your tail swayed gently, ears perking forward as one brushed your fingers, sending a tingle through you.

Lo'ak's smile deepened, golden eyes warm as he stepped closer, his deep blue hand gently guiding yours. He knew what they truly meant, a sign from Eywa, a blessing for this forbidden connection blooming between you. But he kept it simple, voice tender.

"They're atokirina, wood sprites. A sign from Eywa that she sees you. That you're connected to her." His thumb brushed your knuckles, the touch light but intimate.

Tears welled in your silver eyes, spilling down your gray cheeks in hot trails.

All your life, your mother had drilled it into you. Eywa had turned her back on the Ash Clan, abandoning them to the fire and ash. But here, in this hidden sanctuary, it felt real, Eywa's gaze upon you, affirming your worth.

"She... sees me?" You whispered, voice breaking with emotion, body trembling slightly as the realization washed over you.

Lo'ak's heart ached at the sight, and he reached up, his blue fingers gentle as they brushed the tears from your cheeks, tracing the soft curve of your face. "She does. And so do I."

Your fingers intertwined with his, strong and sure, the contrast of blue against gray beautiful in the glow. Slowly, he leaned in, your foreheads touching, breaths syncing in the quiet.

You felt a surge of gratitude for this persistent outsider who'd shown you this light, while he stood in awe of your strength, your vulnerability cracking open like a rare bloom.

From that day on, you met in that lush haven, away from the dangers of Mangkwan territory.

You'd warned him sternly, silver eyes fierce. "Don't come back to my lands, it's too dangerous for you."

And he listened, but the pull kept you both returning to this secret spot, where time stretched like the vines overhead.

Your time together unfolded in stolen moments, lazy afternoons lounging on mossy banks, sharing stories under the canopy. You started to fall for him, the way his laughter lit up his golden eyes, the easy confidence in his lithe body as he demonstrated reef dances or taught you to mimic the calls of forest creatures.

He was affectionate, always finding excuses to touch, a hand on your lower back as you walked, fingers tracing the beads in your white braids.

"Your hair... it's so pretty, so different." He'd murmur one evening, voice husky with admiration, as he sat behind you, gently unraveling a braid to let the strands slip through his fingers like silk.

The sensation made you shiver, a giggle bubbling up from your chest, light and free, something you hadn't felt in years. Your tail would curl around his leg playfully, silver eyes sparkling as you leaned into him, giggly and soft under his gaze.

Lo'ak lived for those moments, his heart swelling each time you laughed, your gray body relaxing against his blue one.

One twilight, as the bioluminescent plants ignited the air in a symphony of light, he couldn't hold back.

He cupped your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks, and pulled you into a kiss. His full lips met yours softly at first, then deeper, tasting the faint ash-sweetness of your mouth. You melted into it, hands fisting in his black braids, bodies pressing close, your full breasts against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around your waist.

He was addicted instantly, pulling back only to dive in again, nipping at your lower lip with a low groan.

"You taste... incredible." He breathed against your mouth, golden eyes dark with desire, tail entwining with yours in a tangle of affection and heat.

The kisses became a ritual, each one drawing you closer, your giggles turning to soft sighs as his hands explored the curves of your body, always respectful but hungry.

In that glowing sanctuary, barriers dissolved, and what began as curiosity bloomed into something undeniable, a bond blessed by Eywa herself.

~

Lo'ak bounded back toward the family's marui in Awa'atlu, his bare feet padding lightly over the woven paths that snaked through the coastal village. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the reef waters and the thatched roofs of the homes perched on stilts. His deep blue skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat from the day's exertions, black braids swaying rhythmically with each energetic step.

A wide, irrepressible grin split his handsome face, golden eyes sparkling with a joy he hadn't felt in ages.

Meeting you in that hidden lush sanctuary had been magical, your laughter echoing like wind chimes, your silver eyes locking onto his with a warmth that chased away the shadows of his doubts. He was a happy man, utterly smitten, his tail flicking playfully behind him as if it had a mind of its own.

Jake lounged outside their marui, sharpening a spear with deliberate strokes, his broad shoulders relaxed but his sharp blue eyes missing nothing. He glanced up as Lo'ak approached, noting the unusual bounce in his son's step, the flush of contentment on his cheeks.

"You've been sneaking off a lot lately, son." Jake said, his voice gruff but laced with genuine curiosity, setting the spear aside. He leaned forward, muscular arms resting on his knees, the scars from old battles etched into his blue skin like maps of survival. "Care to tell your old man where you've been? Or is it another one of your wild reef dives?"

Lo'ak paused, his grin faltering for a heartbeat as he met his father's gaze.

For the first time, the weight of secrecy felt too heavy to carry alone. He dropped down beside Jake, crossing his legs, his lithe body still humming with post-meeting energy.

"It's not that, Dad." He admitted, voice steady but earnest, golden eyes flicking to the horizon before returning. "I've been meeting someone. From the Ash Clan."

He took a deep breath, the words tumbling out like a confession long held back.

"It started when I got too close to their borders, got caught, actually. Their leader, Varang, was gonna have my head, but she... she saved me. Stepped right between me and the danger, like it was nothing. Pulled me out of there, made it look like I was her prisoner."

Jake's brows furrowed, his body tensing slightly, ears twitching forward in alert interest. He didn't interrupt, just nodded once, urging Lo'ak on with a tilt of his head.

"Her name's (Y/N)." Lo'ak continued, a soft smile creeping back as he spoke of you, his fingers absently tracing patterns in the sand. "She's stunning, Dad. Brave too, defied her own mother for a stranger. And then... Eywa showed up. Atokirina floated all around us, like a blessing. It was a sign, clear as day. She's been raised to think we're all enemies, that Eywa turned her back on the Ash people. But I'm showing her different, talking about the clans, how we can be allies, not foes. She's starting to see it, to trust me."

His voice grew fervent, golden eyes alight with passion, chest rising and falling as emotion swelled in him.

Jake listened in silence, his stern expression softening as he absorbed the story.

For the first time, he truly saw his son, not the reckless troublemaker, but a young warrior forging his own path, driven by heart rather than impulse.

He placed a large hand on Lo'ak's shoulder, squeezing firmly, the gesture warm and paternal.

"I hope you know what you're doing, boy." He said quietly, voice rough with unspoken pride, eyes meeting Lo'ak's with a depth of understanding that bridged years of misunderstandings. "The Ash Clan... they're volatile. Varang's no friend to us. But if Eywa's in it..."

He trailed off, shaking his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Lo'ak's throat tightened, the simple words hitting him like a wave. He surged forward, wrapping his arms around Jake in a fierce hug, his strong back pressing against his father's broader frame.

"Thanks, Dad." He murmured, voice muffled against Jake's shoulder, tail curling in relief.

For once, he felt seen, cared for, not just as Neteyam's shadow, but as himself. Jake returned the embrace, clapping Lo'ak's back solidly before pulling away, both of them clearing their throats awkwardly.

The next day dawned bright and clear, the reef waters shimmering like liquid sapphire as you made your way to the secret spot. Your heart raced with anticipation, a lightness in your step that felt foreign after so long in the ash-choked lands.

You'd taken extra care this morning, your white hair freshly braided with new beads that glimmered like stars, light gray skin oiled to a subtle sheen that highlighted the graceful curves of your body. The scant wraps of woven fibers clung to your full breasts and the swell of your hips, accentuating the perky firmness of your ass as you moved. Your silver eyes sparkled with a mix of nerves and excitement, tail swaying eagerly.

Lo'ak was already there when you arrived, pacing the mossy edge of the clearing, his deep blue body taut with barely contained energy.

The moment he spotted you emerging from the vines, his golden eyes lit up like the bioluminescent plants around you, a grin spreading across his handsome face.

"Ma'yawntutsyìp." He breathed, the Na'vi endearment slipping out soft and reverent as he closed the distance in two strides.

You looked prettier than usual, the sunlight filtering through the canopy catching the white strands of your hair, making your gray skin glow ethereally. It stirred something deep in him, heat pooling low in his belly, his cock twitching beneath his loincloth at the sight of your lithe, beautiful form approaching.

"You came early." You teased, silver eyes dancing as you reached him, your fingers brushing his arm lightly.

The touch sent sparks through both of you, and Lo'ak's breath hitched, his gaze roaming hungrily over your curves, the way your breasts rose with each breath, the inviting dip of your waist.

"Couldn't wait to see you." He admitted, voice husky, stepping closer until your bodies nearly touched. His black braids framed his face, golden eyes darkening with desire as he cupped your cheek, thumb tracing your full lower lip. "You look... incredible. That hair, your skin, it's driving me crazy, syulang."

He leaned in, forehead pressing to yours, inhaling your scent now, faint ash mingled with the fresh blooms of this place.

Your cheeks warmed, a soft giggle escaping as you tilted your head, lips brushing his in a feather-light tease.

"Then do something about it." You whispered, bold and inviting, your hands sliding up his toned chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath the smooth blue skin.

Lo'ak groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against you as he captured your mouth in a deep kiss. His full lips moved hungrily, tongue slipping past to taste you, sweet and wild, like the hidden fruits here. You melted into him, fingers tangling in his braids, pulling him closer as your bodies pressed flush. His hands roamed your back, tracing the elegant line of your spine before settling on the curve of your ass, squeezing the perky flesh firmly, eliciting a gasp from you.

"Slowly." You murmured against his lips, nipping at his jaw, your tail curling around his thigh possessively. "I want to feel every part of you."

He nodded, eyes blazing with restrained fire, guiding you down to the soft moss bed where the wood sprites still lingered like silent witnesses. Lo'ak laid you back gently, his strong body hovering over yours, black braids falling forward to curtain your faces. He kissed a trail down your neck, lips hot and worshipful on your gray skin, sucking lightly at the pulse point that made you arch.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered, voice thick with awe, hands deftly untying your wraps to bare your breasts.

His mouth descended, tongue circling one pert nipple, then drawing it into his warm mouth with a slow suck that had you moaning, fingers digging into his shoulders. Your body responded eagerly, hips shifting as heat built between your thighs, your pussy growing slick with arousal.

Lo'ak's hand slid lower, fingers tracing the inside of your thigh, teasing the sensitive skin until you whimpered. "Lo'ak... touch me."

He obliged, palm cupping your mound, fingers parting your folds to stroke your wet pussy with deliberate slowness.

"So wet for me already." He murmured, golden eyes locked on yours as he circled your clit, thumb pressing just right to make your back bow.

You gasped, silver eyes fluttering, the pleasure coiling tight as he slipped one finger inside you, then two, curling them to hit that spot that made stars burst behind your lids.

"Feels good?" He asked, voice rough, leaning down to kiss you deeply while his fingers pumped steadily, thumb still working your clit.

"Yes oh, Eywa, yes." You breathed, rocking against his hand, your perky ass lifting off the moss.

The bioluminescent glow illuminated your writhing form, white hair splayed like a halo, gray skin flushed with desire.

Lo'ak withdrew his fingers after bringing you to the edge, not wanting to rush, and shed his loincloth. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the blue length veined and curving slightly, tip glistening with pre-cum. You reached for it, wrapping your hand around the hot girth, stroking firmly as he groaned, hips bucking into your touch.

"Your hand... feels amazing." He panted, kissing your collarbone, then lower, trailing wet open-mouthed kisses over your stomach until he settled between your thighs.

His tongue delved into your pussy without hesitation, lapping at your folds, savoring your taste with hungry moans. You cried out, hands fisting his braids, legs spreading wider as he sucked your clit, tongue flicking relentlessly.

"Lo'ak, I'm close." You warned, body trembling, the coil snapping as orgasm crashed over you, pussy clenching around nothing as waves of pleasure rippled through.

He rose then, positioning himself at your entrance, golden eyes seeking permission.

"I want you, need to be inside you." He said, voice strained with longing.

"Yes, please." You urged, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in.

The head of his cock nudged your slick pussy, then he pushed forward slowly, inch by inch, stretching you deliciously. You both moaned at the fullness, his thick length filling you completely as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours.

"Tight... so perfect." He growled, holding still to let you adjust, forehead pressed to yours, breaths mingling.

Then he began to move, slow deep thrusts that had you gasping, nails raking his back.

"You feel like home." He whispered, angling to hit deeper, his strong arms caging you as he kissed you messily.

"Harder." You demanded, silver eyes fierce, hips meeting his rhythm.

He obliged, pace quickening, the slap of blue skin against gray echoing in the clearing, your full breasts bouncing with each thrust. Pleasure built again, coiling hot and fast, until you shattered around him, pussy pulsing on his cock, crying his name.

Lo'ak followed soon after, groaning deeply as he spilled inside you, hot cum flooding your depths, bodies locked in ecstasy.

Panting, he didn't pull out, instead reaching for your queues.

"Tsaheylu?" He asked softly, eyes vulnerable.

You nodded, heart full, guiding your neural tendrils to connect with his. The bond snapped into place, a rush of emotions, love, joy, shared souls flooding you both. Tears pricked your silver eyes as you gazed at him, fingers tracing his handsome face.

"I see you, Lo'ak. Truly. I'll choose you over anyone and anything. Even my mother, my clan."

He smiled, kissing you tenderly, tails entwining. "I see you too, syulang. We're in this together."

Happiness wrapped around you like the glowing vines, unbreakable.

~

Weeks blurred into a haze of stolen bliss, but the peace shattered when screams pierced the air of Awa'atlu.

Your people had arrived, led by your mother Varang, her gray form fierce atop a direhorse, white markings stark against her skin. Beside her rode Quaritch in his Na'vi body, blue and imposing, eyes cold as he directed the Sky People's machines. Gunships roared overhead, raining fire on the reefs, while Ash warriors charged with spears and bows, their cries echoing like thunder.

The Metkayina fought back fiercely, Jake barking orders, Neytiri's arrows flying true but chaos reigned. Huts blazed, water churned red.

Lo'ak dove into the fray, knife in hand, his lithe body dodging blasts as he slashed at an Ash fighter.

"Where is she?" He muttered, golden eyes scanning desperately through the smoke and screams, heart pounding with fear.

He couldn't see you anywhere amid the havoc, the bond tugging urgently, pulling him toward the unknown.

The battle raged on the shores of Awa'atlu like a storm unleashed by Eywa herself, the air thick with the acrid smoke of burning machines and the metallic tang of blood. Waves crashed against the splintered remnants of the reef village, their foam tinged red as warriors clashed in a frenzy of spears, arrows, and gunfire.

Lo'ak fought with a ferocity born of desperation, his lithe blue body weaving through the chaos, black braids whipping like dark serpents as he drove his knife into an Ash warrior's side. Sweat slicked his deep blue skin, highlighting the taut muscles of his arms and back, golden eyes fierce and unyielding.

The Metkayina had held the line against the onslaught of your people and the Sky People's mechanical horrors, but now, distant cries of arrival echoed from the horizon, reinforcements from other clans, their ikran screeching as they dove into the fray, arrows raining down like judgment from the skies.

The tide turned swiftly.

The Mangkwan kin, with their light gray skins smeared in volcanic ash and white hair matted with sweat and blood, began to falter under the onslaught. Direhorses reared and stampeded back toward the volcanic borders, while the Sky demons' gunships crumpled under precise strikes, exploding in fiery blooms that lit the dusk.

Quaritch's form barked futile orders amid the rout, his handsome features twisted in rage, but even he was forced to retreat as the machines were obliterated one by one, metal screeching and flames devouring their hulls.

Lo'ak slashed through another foe, his chest heaving, a grim smile tugging at his full lips, he should have been elated, the victory so close he could taste it. But his heart twisted with unease, the bond pulling at him like an invisible tether.

Where were you?

His golden eyes scanned the battlefield frantically, past the writhing bodies and the triumphant roars of allies, but your light gray form with its cascade of white braids was nowhere in the smoke-choked haze.

A chill ran down his spine, his tail lashing in agitation.

He spun on his heel, breath catching as his gaze locked onto a figure emerging from the shadows of a toppled hut, your mother, Varang. Her light gray skin was streaked with soot and blood, black hair disheveled but her silver eyes burning with unbridled fury.

In her grip, pilfered from the Sky People's arsenal, was a sleek gun, its barrel leveled unerringly at Lo'ak's chest. Her curvaceous body tensed, full breasts heaving beneath her scant wraps, the Tsahìk's markings stark against her skin like accusations from a forgotten Eywa.

"You." She snarled, voice a venomous hiss laced with betrayal, her ears flattening against her skull. "You poisoned her mind. Turned my own blood against me."

Lo'ak froze, his strong legs rooted to the sand, golden eyes widening in shock.

Time slowed, the battle's din fading to a roar in his ears. From across the field, Neytiri's sharp cry pierced the air—“Lo'ak!”—her lithe blue form sprinting toward him, bow drawn, black braids flying like banners of desperation.

But she was too far, her muscular legs pumping furiously over the uneven terrain, face contorted in maternal terror, silver eyes wide with horror.

Lo'ak braced himself, muscles coiling like a predator's, his mind flashing to you in that final, blissful moment, the warmth of your body, the snap of tsaheylu sealing your souls. The shot rang out, a deafening crack that echoed like thunder. He waited for the burn, the darkness, but instead, felt only a sudden, enveloping softness crashing against him.

His eyes snapped open, breath hitching as he saw you.

Your light gray skin pale against the chaos, white braids tumbling over your shoulders like fallen moonlight, silver eyes dim but fixed on him with fierce determination. You'd appeared from nowhere, your curvaceous body shielding his, the bullet tearing through your chest instead. Blood bloomed dark and wet across your full breasts, soaking the woven fibers of your top, dripping in rivulets down the elegant curve of your waist.

Horror seized Lo'ak like a vice, his golden eyes flooding with tears as he lunged forward, strong arms wrapping around your weakening form. You sagged against him as he caught you fully, cradling your beautiful face in his large hands.

"No, no, syulang!" He choked out, voice breaking on a sob, tears streaming down his blue cheeks to mingle with the blood on your skin.

His lithe body trembled, tail curling protectively around your legs, as if he could will you to stay through sheer force.

Varang staggered back, the gun slipping from her gray fingers to clatter in the sand. Her silver eyes widened in shock, full lips parting in a gasp of disbelief, her commanding presence crumbling as she stared at the daughter she'd just shot.

"(Y/N)... no." She whispered, voice cracking with raw anguish, ears drooping, the fierce Tsahìk reduced to a mother undone.

Neytiri's arrow whistled through the air before Varang could recover, embedding deep in her shoulder with a sickening thud. Varang cried out, clutching the wound, blood seeping between her fingers, but her gaze lingered on you, shock mingling with a flicker of regret in her silver eyes.

Neytiri, her own face a mask of stunned gratitude and lingering wariness, lowered her bow and sprinted the final distance, her graceful body cutting through the fray like a blade.

But Varang, ever resilient, stumbled away into the retreating shadows of her people, casting one last, haunted look over her shoulder at your bleeding form before vanishing into the volcanic haze.

You managed a weak smile at Lo'ak, silver eyes fluttering, blood trickling from the corner of your full lips, staining your pretty face. The warmth of him, the press of his toned chest against yours, was a comfort amid the fading light.

Lo'ak's sobs wracked his body now, hot tears splashing onto your skin as he rocked you gently, his fingers stroking your white braids with desperate tenderness.

"Stay with me please, ma'yawntutsyìp, don't leave me." He pleaded, voice raw and broken, golden eyes searching yours for any sign of strength. "Why? Why did you do this?"

Your hand, trembling but firm, cupped his cheek, thumb brushing away a tear.

"I told you... I'd never let her hurt you." You whispered, voice faint but unwavering, a soft smile curving your bloodied lips despite the pain etching lines around your silver eyes. "Remember?"

Darkness claimed you then, your body going limp in his arms, silver eyes closing as your head lolled against his shoulder.

Lo'ak's wail tore from his throat, a primal sound of loss, as Neytiri reached you, dropping to her knees beside the two of you. Her blue hands pressed against your wound, staunching the flow with practiced urgency, her face softening from shock to quiet resolve.

"Hold on, little one." She murmured to you, though her silver eyes flicked to Lo'ak's devastated expression. "We'll save her, tanhi. Help me carry her."

Weeks passed in a blur of anxious vigil within the healed marui of Awa'atlu, the village rebuilt stronger under the watchful eyes of Eywa.

The war had ended in resounding victory, the other clans' aid had driven your people back to their ash-choked lands, the Sky demons' remnants scattered like broken toys. Varang and Quaritch had vanished into the wilds, whispers of their alliance fracturing under the weight of defeat.

Lo'ak had not left your side once, his lithe blue body curled protectively beside your still form on the woven mat, golden eyes shadowed with exhaustion but burning with unyielding devotion. He bathed your light gray skin with gentle cloths, tracing the healing scar on your chest with feather-light touches, his black braids often falling forward as he whispered endearments to your sleeping face.

"Syulang, come back to me. I need you."

His handsome features, usually so vibrant, were gaunt from sleepless nights, but he tended to you with a tenderness that spoke of his deep love, feeding you broth through careful sips when Neytiri allowed, his strong hands steady despite the tremor of fear in them.

Neytiri had taken charge of your healing, her skilled hands applying salves and herbs to the bullet wound, her lithe body moving with the grace of a huntress even in the dim light of the marui.

Gratitude softened her sharp silver eyes whenever she looked at you, the enemy who had saved her son.

"You are brave, Ash daughter." She'd murmur while changing your bandages, her voice warm with unexpected affection, fingers gentle on your curvaceous form. "Lo'ak speaks truth of you. You are welcome here now."

Jake had visited too, his broad blue frame filling the entrance one evening, blue eyes curious as he finally saw the woman from his son's fervent stories.

He knelt beside you, large hand resting briefly on your white-braided hair, a paternal nod of approval.

"You've got fire in you, kid." He said gruffly to your unconscious form, voice thick with emotion. "Rest easy. You're family now."

One afternoon, as the sun filtered through the marui's woven walls in golden shafts, Tsireya slipped inside, her pearlescent blue skin glowing softly, tail swaying with concern. Her kind eyes fell on Lo'ak, who sat vigil once more, his head bowed over your hand clasped in his.

"Lo'ak." She said gently, voice like a soothing wave, stepping closer with her graceful, curvy form. "You need to rest. You've been here for weeks, Eywa wouldn't want you wasting away."

Lo'ak's head snapped up, golden eyes flashing with a mix of exhaustion and defensiveness, his ears pinning back as he straightened his tired body.

"I can't leave her, Tsireya." He snapped, voice edged with raw frustration, tail lashing sharply. "Not for a second. She's... she's everything."

He softened slightly, drawing a shaky breath, his gaze drifting back to your peaceful face, your full lips slightly parted, white hair splayed like a silver fan.

"I love her. More than anything. Eywa blessed us, the atokirina, the tsaheylu... we're mates now. She chose me over everything and I won't abandon her."

Tsireya's expression melted into understanding, her silver eyes warm as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his toned muscles. "I know, Lo'ak. I see how you look at her ever since she’s brought here like she's the stars themselves. But you must care for yourself too, for her sake. Rest, even if just for a little while."

She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before slipping out, leaving him to his watch.

~

You stirred slowly, the world filtering back in hazy warmth, the soft rustle of waves outside, the faint scent of healing herbs, and the steady rise and fall of a body beside yours. Your silver eyes fluttered open, vision clearing to reveal Lo'ak asleep at your side, his handsome face relaxed in slumber for the first time in weeks, black braids draped over his broad shoulders, blue skin marked with faint scars from the battle.

A smile tugged at your full lips, a soft giggle bubbling up from your chest despite the lingering ache, light and joyful as you watched him.

Your mate, the man you love.

The sound roused him instantly, golden eyes snapping open, widening in disbelief as they met yours.

"(Y/N)?" He breathed, voice hoarse with emotion, surging forward to envelop you in his strong arms.

His lithe body pressed against your curvaceous one, careful of your healing wound, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, ash and blooms mingled with life renewed. Tears welled anew, spilling hot onto your gray skin as he held you tighter, tail wrapping around your waist possessively.

"Oh, Eywa... you're awake. I was so scared, syulang, so scared I'd lost you forever."

You wrapped your arms around him, fingers threading through his braids, your perky breasts pressing softly against his chest as you nuzzled his temple.

"I'm here, ma'tìyawng." You whispered, voice soft but steady, silver eyes shining with love. "I missed you too. Every moment in the dark, I felt you pulling me back."

He pulled back just enough to cup your beautiful face, thumbs stroking your cheeks, golden eyes searching yours with overwhelming relief and adoration.

"I love you so much." He murmured, voice trembling, leaning in to press fervent kisses to your forehead, your nose, your lips, soft and reverent. "Don't ever scare me like that again."

"I'm not going anywhere, Lo'ak." You smiled, heart swelling, your tail curling with his in an intimate tangle. "The only reason I came back... was because of a boy. He looked just like you. He urged me toward the light, told me to return to you."

Confusion furrowed his brow, golden eyes blinking as he tilted his head, black braids shifting. "A boy? Who... who was he?"

Your silver eyes softened, a knowing peace settling over your features as you traced his jawline. "He told me his name was Neteyam."

Lo'ak's breath caught, fresh tears spilling as understanding dawned, his handsome face crumpling with gratitude and grief. He pressed his forehead to yours, a sob escaping as the bond thrummed with shared emotion.

"Thank you, brother." He whispered to the air, voice thick, strong arms hugging you closer. "Thank you for bringing her back to me."

You kissed him then, slow and deep, your full lips moving against his with a passion tempered by survival's joy, tongues dancing in a promise of forever. He responded with equal fervor, hands roaming your curves gently, savoring the warmth of your light gray skin under his palms.

"I can't wait to spend my life with you, paskalin." He said against your mouth, golden eyes alight with hope, tails entwined as unbreakable as your souls. "Every day, every hunt, every breath, yours and mine, together."

In the quiet marui, with the reef singing its eternal song outside, your laughter mingled with his, the wounds of war fading into the glow of a future forged in love and Eywa's grace.

To the man who showed you Eywa sees you, to the man himself who sees every part of you.

[wonump3]

loneliness is a bitch | kmg (m)

your poetry professor starts showing up in your dreams after he praised you on your assignment—but it must be all in your head right? or why is he looking at you like he know what you dreamt about?

Pairing | incubus!mingyu x unistudent!reader

Genre + warnings | Smut, Porn with Plot; dub-con? (it’s a incubus story so it comes with the lore), dom!mingyu, oral, fingering, spanking, nipple play, piv sex, unprotected sex, stalking(?), marking(?), professor/student relationships, age-gap (the man’s a demon so…), reader x mystery member one-night stand, petnames (harlot, slut, baby, sweetheart, pretty, human), riding, masturbation, degradation/praise. I think that’s it, a little dark/not fluffy, comes with the incubus lore obvs. *lil surprise at the end hehe

Word Count | 5.5K ♡ 22 min read

Notes | this is my first time writing anything with incubi (and mingyu lol) I did a lot of research so there is a bigger chunk of plot than usual. I hope y’all like it regardless, and that I didn’t butcher the lore much TT

Request | hiii i saw that your request is open. since it is the spooky month, i was thinking of a mingyu incubus fic? it's all dark and alluring, him luring a girl and using her to get her energy.

As summer transcends into fall, the falling orange leaves mark the start of a new semester, the chilly wind and cloudy skies the only companion as you walk to your last class of the day—Lyric Poetry. Living a quiet life, you pushed yourself to indulge in small things you liked, even though Literature was not your major, you thought it would be good idea to take a poetry class in hopes of finding a medium to channel your feelings.

It’s been a whole year and a half since you found out your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you with your best friend—your only friend at that. Not for a month, not for a year, but for the whole duration of the relationship. He couldn’t even wait a week after asking you out when he was already having his way with her in the back of his car. You were not sure if that hurt more or the fact that the only person you had ever trusted was the one that was seeing him. Safe to say the past year has been the loneliest of them all, maybe you were destined to be alone all along—just how you overheard your mother say once.

A sigh left your lips, soft smog forming due to the cold weather, as you opened the doors to the building. The heels of your boots clicked on the floor and your jacket ruffled softly as your approached the room—Room 406 to be exact.

Professor Kim would be waiting on the other side of the door. You had heard so many stories about him, from girls in your classes and hallway gossip. Two semesters into teaching and his classes were already a bloodbath to get in during registration, not because his classes were all so interesting, but because students on campus had taken quite a liking to the physique of the professor. You’d never seen him before, but when you saw he was offering a new poetry class, you had to take into the opportunity—to learn of course.

There were rumors that some girls had become so obsessed with him that the Dean had to get them transferred, others that there were students who swore up and down that they had slept with said professor—in their dreams—but it had felt so real to the point that they had started believing it themselves.

‘He can’t be that handsome…’ you thought to yourself when you heard a guy excitedly tell his friends how he just knew Professor Kim wanted him.

As your watch marked 4:30PM, you open the door to the classroom, all front seat already taken by girls with skirts too short and necklines too deep, clearly in efforts of catching the attention of the “hot” new professor. Pathetic, that’s what they were, parading themselves for a man that will merely see them as disposable, they all did, they were all the same.

There was a seat towards the end of the lecture hall, just perfect for you, away from the giggles and whispers of those oogling the teacher. Just a perfect view of the board and quiet enough to sit with your little pathetic broken heart.

Five minutes later, sharp, you hear the door open and the whispers subside. An odd feeling crept up your body as a shiver went down your spine, the warm light of the hall flickered slightly—odd. A tall muscular man in his early 30s stood in front of the room, a white button up hidden behind a black coat adorned his body, his hair was neatly brushed back, with a couple of messy strands framing his hair perfectly, probably due to the wind outside.

Professor Kim. The rumors were kinda true—he was handsome, but not ‘make you go mad handsome’, at least to you.

“Ms. _____?” You heard a male voice call, pulling your gaze up from your notebook, you met his eyes.

Odd.

There was something odd about his eyes, but you decided to let it go, blaming it on the long distance.

“Here.” You said softly, a hum resonated from his throat.

“Welcome to the class, Ms. ______.” A smile. Odd smile—almost a smirk. For some reason it sent shivers down your spine, the way his eyes looked dark from up your row was weird, but nonetheless you shrugged it off, you were just tired. Tired in so many ways.

You felt some lingering gazes from some people at the front, but paid no mind to them as your eyes quickly went back to your notebook. Class went on as normal, despite your body temperature suddenly feeling cold, but hey, it was fall after all.

As soon as the clock marked 6:00PM, Professor Kim concluded the class, all students getting up their seats and preparing to head home. Still, some students lingered around to ask the professor stuff—mostly his office hours and extra credit opportunities, if you know what they meant…

Your bag slung over your shoulder after stuffing your notebook and laptop back in, quickly making way down the lecture hall and towards the door. Just as you were to push past the door you hear a voice call your name, awfully close.

“Goodbye, Ms. ______.” Deep and dark—almost seductive right next to your ear, tickling a little.

The proximity of the voice made you turn around immediately. The over of the voice, however, was still at his desk, a couple of girls surrounding him.

A hum of confusion had left your lips, his attention suddenly on you.

“Everything okay, Ms. ____?” Professor Kim asked, glacing at you, feigning worry. Something about him was off, your brain was yelling at you, but you brushed it off—obviously thats crazy to think, you didn’t know the man.

“Yeah, I thought I heard someone calling.” You said dismissively, a snort coming from one of the girls at his desk.

“Sure, you did…” her eyes rolled.

“M’kay. Have a nice night, see you Friday.” The man said giving you the same smile as earlier, prompting you to finally leave the classroom.

You were tired. Definitely. That had to be it.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿☆ ‿⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

Days passed, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, you found yourself in the same seat—center seat, last row of the lecture hall. Every class was the same, you came in, he took roll, his eyes lingered, you avoided his gaze, shivers up your spine, a smirk on his face, and a cold feeling on your skin. It always seemed as if no one else felt it, the coldness of the room, the strange atmosphere, dark gaze, lopsided smirk—you couldn’t be imagining that every day, could you?

After a couple of weeks, your first assignment had been graded. An A+. Of course, you deserved that grade, you put your heart into the assignment, literally. It was like a leak you couldn’t fix, words just came, pouring all feelings of solitude and heartbreak into paper.

‘That is what prompted him to call you after class’, you told yourself as you waited for the last person seeking to get more from him to leave. As soon as he did, Professor Kim’s eyes were on you, a softer smile on his face.

“Your work was exceptional, Ms. ____!” He announced. “You have an incredible talent with words, I could feel every single word in your work.”

“Thank you, Professor. I tried my very best.” You said, feeling lighter, a breath you didn’t know you were holding leaving your lips.

“I would love to have you join the University’s new Poetry Club. It’s pretty new, nothing too fancy yet.” His hands worked on stacking some papers due for grading. “I am in charge of it and I think you would be a great first addition to it as we grow, what do you think?”

First addition? As in… just you? Something told you to reject, yet your mouth had other plans, it’s not like you had a social life anyway. Eventually more people would join and you would meet new friends… right?

“Sure! That sounds interesting.” You said softly, a small chuckle left his lips.

“Cool, I’ll email you the details once we have a meeting date set. Have a good night, Ms. _____.”

“You too, Professor…” you turned to leave, but that voice returned. It was his voice, you knew that.

‘I’ll see you tonight.’ A shiver. You turned back to see him still at his desk, already grading papers, his tie a bit looser.

It wasn’t him, he was too far. It was all in your head, you were imagining things. Then why did that voice kept on replaying in your head?

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿☆ ‿⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

The drive back home was quiet, just the faint music coming from the speakers as you pulled into your complex’s parking garage. You discarded your jacket and sweater by the door, getting more comfortable as you prepared to sleep in—it was the weekend after all, no school and no work.

After a quick warm shower, you were ready in your pajamas under the covers. The view to the city was relaxing as you indulged in a book. You loved reading before bed, love stories made you mend your heart slightly, it was nice thinking love was a real thing in some universe far away—not on this one though.

After an hour or so, you put the book away, lying on your side after turning off your bedside lamp. The quiet murmuring of the city from your window soothed your eyes into a peaceful slumber.

That is until you heard that voice again. This time it was obviously in your dreams, right in your left ear.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” You tried to turn around, but couldn’t. Then you felt a large hand, soft but cold, caress your shoulder.

You couldn’t lie, it felt nice to be touched like this, even if it was just in your dreams.

“So lonely and dejected.” The voice taunted you, but the soft finger tips approached your hips, where they pressed softly, pulling you back against their much larger frame.

This was kinda nice.

“I bet you taste so sweet,” an involuntary gasp left your mouth as his fingers danced closer to your inner thighs. “I can smell this neglected little cunt all the way from my desk every day, baby.”

You froze at that. What the fuck were you dreaming?!

“Every time you are immersed in your notebook and you shiver, I can see your pretty nipples harden under your sweater. Such a slutty little thing.” The fingers of the person behind you dipped further between your legs, finally touching your heat over your panties—a moan leaving your lips.

You wanted to look back, but your body was anchored to its side on the mattress. You should’ve panicked, but it was a dream after all.

“A whole year without anyone kissing this wet cunt is torture. But I’m here to change that, baby. I will give you what he couldn’t.” A set of sharp teeth sunk on your shoulder softly. “I will give you what he was giving her all that time. I will fuck this little pussy raw until all you can think about is how warm my cum feels deep inside.”

Your thighs pressed together around the large manly hand and your back arched back slightly.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you, little harlot?” His middle finger pressed down your wet clotherd slot, playing with your hole teasingly. “You want your professor to cum deep inside you, fuck the loneliness out of you.”

You nodded. ‘Yes’, you wanted to scream, you really did want your Prof- wait… Who? Before you could even panic, his fingers dipped beyond your panties and into your warm hole. A moan finally leaving your lips.

“Fuck, you are so wet, baby.” With that, he moved you to lay on your back, finally letting you see his face. His fingers scissored inside your heat, provoking a moan from you.

His eyes were dark, not only in color but in aura. A smirk decorated his face, sharp fangs showing slightly. Professor Kim, you were having a wet dream about your teacher.

What the fuck?

“Expected someone else, pretty?” He asked seductively, leaning in to lightly graze his teeth on your jaw. “I’ll see you some other day then, baby. Keep that pussy wet and nice for me, yeah?”

You jolted awake with a sharp inhale, sitting straight up in bed. Your heart was pumping way too fast in your chest. Sweat making your hair cling to your neck.

Your eyes turned to where he was, empty.

It was a dream, but it felt oddly real. His presence wasn’t real, but the heat between your legs was. Your back met the mattress again and your hand shamefully moved to the waistband of your pajama shorts.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿☆ ‿⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

Loneliness was some weird bitch cause he visited your dreams every single night until Monday finally came along.

He didn’t do much, just a bite and a grope here and there, plus the occasional fingering between your legs. But you couldn’t help yourself after jolting awake, lulling yourself back to sleep with a cry of his name in your lips.

‘Mingyu’, he had told you one night prior to disappearing as he usually did. If that was his real name, you were not completely sure. But that was the name your mind had given him in your dreams.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿☆ ‿⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

The walk into the classroom the following Monday was shameful to say the least. You had touched yourself to a dream version of your professor for five nights straight. With rapid speed, you found your seat and drifted away into nothingness until he took roll.

“Ms. ____?” He called, already looking up at you in the last row of the hall.

“Here.” You murmured without looking up. A smirk drawn on his face and he feigned deafness.

“Ms. ____?” He called again, eyes set on you. You knew he was looking at you. His gaze was too heavy not to notice.

You refused to look up, until you heard that voice again, close to your ear.

‘Look at me, pretty.’ It felt like a whisper in your ear and you couldn’t help but obey for some strange reason.

“I’m here.” You said, louder this time, meeting his eyes. A lazy smirk adorned his face as he nodded and moved unto the rest of the list. You found yourself lost in your notes, but could feel his eyes set on you once in a while through the whole class. Every stare was followers by a shiver down your spine and a sudden chilly breeze around you.

You swore every day was the same, Professor Kim’s eyes on you once in a while throughout the class. It felt like he gave you specific attention, but no one seemed to take notice of it. Odd. At this point, it had been 2 weeks of dreaming about him. Being anchored to your bed without any ability to move while he touched you. By the seventh dream, he had eaten you out, made you see stars, until you jolted awake. Your underwear had been moved to the side just like he did in the dream and you could’ve sworn your clit was swollen—but that was impossible, you must’ve moved in your sleep. Maybe you needed to get laid in real life to stop having these intense dreams about your teacher nonetheless.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿☆ ‿⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

Your eyes scanned around the bar, nothing good would come out of this, you were sure, but you needed to release all the pent up lust. Everyday you couldn’t control your body, it was like you were stuck in your ovulation period. So, here you were now trying to find someone willing to fuck you and call it a night.

A tall muscular man came into your view, his eyes met yours and his lips drew into a smirk. In less than 3 seconds he was already making his way to you.

“Saw something you liked, gorgeous?” He let out an airy chuckle, no sign of alcohol in his breath. Perfect.

“Hmm, not sure, I was looking behind you.” You said, biting your lip. He let out an amused chuckle at that.

“Such a shame, cause I was looking straight at you.” He said, getting a little closer, your breath hitching.

He was just perfect. Tall, big biceps, thick eyebrows, and pretty plump lips—handsome all around. You could already imagine how the night was gonna end.

“May I buy you a drink?” He asked, “or would you rather we go somewhere else?”

“I think I can skip the alcohol for tonight.” You smiled softly, tracing his bicep with your index finger. The way he smiled while biting his bottom lip gave you a peek of dimples.

Yeah, tonight was gonna be great.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿☆ ‿⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

Seungcheol’s (you had learned his name on the way to your place) hands gripped your ass while his lips devoured yours. Soft pants resounded from both of you while you guided him towards your bedroom. This was the first time you had brought a stranger home, but the way he touched you was enough to not drive your mind into overthinking.

“And to think I was going to stay home.” He murmured against your lips. “Such a pretty little thing, fuck, I saw you as soon as you came into the bar, baby.”

His hands pulled you in closer as you approached the bed. He was gentle with laying you down and you could definitely feel something flutter in your chest. The man removed his shirt with a grin, giving you a view to his chiseled torso, your hands reach out automatically to feel him.

“Let me remove these, baby…”

Soon your clothes were gone and he had your legs pressed against your chest as he rutted into you in a slow but more than satisfactory pace. He was big all around, stuffing you perfectly and making your mind forget all about Professor Kim. He had folded you into three positions already, making you cum in every single one.

“Still so tight, baby…” He said, but it wasn’t Seungcheol’s voice. You froze, heart beating out of your chest. It was the voice again, his voice.

“What?” You asked and he hummed.

Suddenly he stoped his tracks grabbing his ear in pain as he stumbled back.

“What’s wrong?” You asked sitting up quickly to help him, but he looked scared. His eyes zeroed behind you, you tried to look back but you were stuck in place.

“I gotta go.” He rushed to put his clothes on, you wanted to stop him, but you were anchored to where you at in bed.

And in less than two minutes he was gone.

“Tsk, you belong to me, remember?” The air was knocked off your lungs and you saw black.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿☆ ‿⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

The following class your professor didn’t call your name like he usually did and you felt relieved. The extra attention was not for you and you were glad he seemed to stop. Until you felt his gaze extra heavy on you mid-exam. You looked up cautiously, he was staring back already. He looked angry? No, stern. His eyes dark and lips pressed into a thin line as he looked into your soul.

His fingertips tapped his desk and you could see he was tense. Did you do something? You weren’t cheating, if that is what he was thinking.

The man’s jaw clenched and you could see the movement even from up your row. You felt small under his gaze, this man had a weird fixation with you but you couldn’t voice it out without sounding crazy—cause you kinda had a fixation with him too, right?

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿☆ ‿⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

The eleventh dream came along and this time your teacher ate you out and made you suck him off at the same time. His thick veiny cock dragged deliciously against your tongue with every bob of your head; his large hands gripped at your ass while his tongue lapped your soaked cunt. The wet sound of his tongue and the saliva pooling at your mouth rang in your ears mixed with the soft city noises from your window. You felt hot and bothered, it was like you just couldn’t get enough, even if you tried waking up yourself to stop being a creep, you just couldn’t—not until he decided it was over.

“So fucking sweet. I can taste the despair and loneliness from this pretty pussy, sweetheart.” He growled, his hand came to do spank your left cheek harshly. The sting only sending you closer to the edge, if it were real the smack would surely leave a mark. “Are you gonna come for me, baby?”

He hummed, two fingers entering you without warning, making you moan around his shaft. Everything was making you dizzy and you wanted nothing more than to have his cum dripping down your throat. Your moans only grew louder and louder as he plunged his fingers at an insane speed.

“You’re so tight, baby. Can’t wait to finally put my cock inside you next time.” Mingyu said, almost like a promise.

Your tongue lazily played with the vein of his cock, a hand now pumping the lower half. The man beneath you groaned loudly as thick ropes of white flooded your mouth, you drank every single drop he gave you.

“Fuck, Mingyu!” you came with a scream ripping off your throat as he placed a kiss on your core before everything went black.

This time, you didn’t jolt abruptly awake—as a matter of fact, you woke up past your alarms at 4:00PM, there was no way you’d get to class on time, his class to make everything worse. So you opted to skip it.

You woke up in the same position you were in the dream, your feet by your pillows, legs and jaw sore. Weird. Looking at the clock, you forced yourself awake, wiping drool off your chin with the back of your palm.

Your legs nearly gave out when you stood, a sting in your ass as you made way towards the bathroom. The reflection in the mirror caught you off guard—disheveled hair, tear stains in your cheeks, and when you turned to the side you saw the worst part. A bruise.

A gasps left your lips, it was a hand mark. A big one, right where Mingyu had smacked you in your dream. You were definitely going insane, this wasn’t real. Quickly reaching for your phone, you opened the camera app and took a picture, if it showed up you knew for a fact that something was wrong.

And there it was. A hand print on your left ass cheek. Your phone fell off your shaking hands and into the floor, oxygen wasn’t reaching your lungs enough. Had he been here all this time? There was no way he had sneaked into your home, was there?

But that would explain the whispering, the stare, and Seungcheol’s sudden reaction that night.

You washed your face and quickly got dressed. You were going to find out and you would do it tonight, even if it made a fool out of you.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿☆ ‿⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

Students were exiting the classroom by the time you got there. 6:40PM. It was already dark outside, but you couldn’t care less. You pushed by the doors to find your professor at his desk, grading papers. The sudden noise of footsteps made him look up.

“Ms. _____, class already ended.” He said softly, going back to what he was doing.

“Mingyu?” That’s all that could leave your lips. Your heart was racing and you saw him stop suddenly, turning his chair to stare at you with a blank expression.

Said expression slowly morphed into a smirk and clicked his tongue before chuckling deeply.

“Yes, baby?” He said slightly tilting his head and you could feel all of the blood drain from your face, yet there was a warm feeling in your belly.

“You-“ a finger pointed at him, the room was spinning and now you understood all the crazy stories, but you guess no one was ever stupid enough to ask him about it.

He pointed at himself, raising his eyebrows in amusement. This was funny to him.

“Come here.” His voice commanded and your body followed. Was it against your will? You were not too sure. “Did you need something from me, baby?”

“You-“ it was merely a whisper.

“Yes?”

“You have been breaking into my house.” You let out as a breath.

“Mmm, you let me in, baby.” He reached for your hips, pulling you closer, his face pressing into your abdomen and kissing it softly over your blouse. “And I don’t need to break in, I can just appear.”

You looked down at him, his eyes were fully black. You know you should be scared, but for some reason it just made you feel aroused. This sparked amusement in him, you weren’t scared… interesting.

“May I say you taste sweeter than any other little human I’ve had.” Large hands danced down your waist to your ass. “That guy from the other night was a coward, he couldn’t even last a second when I appeared behind you.”

Goosebumps arose on your skin at the memory.

“I just wanted to watch.” He laughed mockingly. “I couldn’t believe you had let another man into your bed.”

“Well, he gave me what you couldn’t give me in these past weeks.” You say as a matter of factly. “I was getting bored of just your fingers.”

Your fingers danced over his shoulders, and he took the opportunity to sit you in his lap. It was obvious he was already hard, but you swear you could feel every vain of his cock under his pants. He quickly unzipped them and without preparation, his hand went under your skirt to find you had no panties on. Mingyu only growled as he plunged you down his cock.

“Fuck!” You whined and let your head fall back as your hands gripped his shoulders tightly.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight, baby.” He groaned against your collarbones, before biting down.

You felt so full. Nicely fucked and full, he had stretched you out in every way imaginable—and you were enjoying every single second of it. His large hands pulled down your blouse, letting your breasts bounce out. If you thought his eyes couldn’t get darker, you were wrong.

His mouth was quick to latch unto the hardened buds in your chest. Each suction sent electricity through your body, making you clench around his big length. He grabbed your hips to lift you up and slam you back down his cock, his mouth ravening in the sweetness of your breasts.

Mingyu’s grip was harsh on your hips and the force in which he moved you like a ragdoll was even harsher. He was overstimulating every single bundle of nerves in your body. His tongue worked magic on your nipples, making them red and swollen from the wet friction and his cock stretched you out as he glided through your warm cunt and hit your g-spot lusciously.

“Such a slutty little human, this is the best pussy I’ve had.” You should’ve snorted at that, cause it was a lie, he told everyone the same thing. But all your mouth could make out was moans of his name. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna beg for me to come back to this cunt every night.”

“Fuck, Mingyu, right there!” You moaned, feeling that sense of release approaching. “I want to cum all over your cock, please!”

“Of course you do, slut.” He smacked your ass over your skirt. “You’re gonna cum all over me and I want you to be messy. Then I will take you home and break your fucking bed from fucking you so much.”

His sharp teeth raked over the swell of your tits and that was enough to release the tension in your lower belly. A scream ripped from your throat and you felt his skin get wet. The sound of climax coating his body, chair, and floor mixed with your heavy breathing.

“Look at this mess, Seungcheol didn’t deserve this. This is only for me.” He grabbed your jaw and made you stare into the dark depths of his black eyes. “Say it. Say your pussy is only for me.” You moaned, lips so close to his.

“My pussy is yours. Only yours.” You whine out and he kissed you with force. Teeth almost breaking yours with the impact. He sucked your tongue into his mouth, not caring of the wet drooling mess falling from where your lips connected.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿☆ ‿⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

Mingyu pushed past your bedroom door, he carried you while remaining deep inside you. He was indulging in everything you gave him. Your tits, your tongue, your pussy, your fingers pulling his hair. It was weird. You were weirdly addictive and this had never happened with any other human before.

“Let me down, I need your cock down my throat right now.” He does as you say, letting you think you have some control over him, and puts you down.

You strip off your clothes before guiding him to the chair by your desk. He sat down as you grinned down at him, raking your fingers down his chest.

Mingyu tried to reach up to grab your breasts but he couldn’t move. His face changed quickly, trying again, this time he tried to stand up but he was glued to the chair. You just stood before him, naked, smirking at him.

“What the fuck did you do?” He asked furiously and you only giggled while getting onto his lap.

“How does that feel, Mingyu?” You asked in a sickening sweet voice.

“What are you…” he asked, still trying to break free from whatever was holding his down. “Let me go before I kill you.”

You only laughed louder.

“Silly little incubus.” You booped his nose. “You can’t kill me. I control you now.”

Even though his eyes were lacking pupils, you could see a flash of panic in the dark of his eyes.

“Now, if we look up to the ceiling…” you grabbed his chin harshly, nails digging into his face while you pushed him to look up with you, a large group of runes painted on the ceiling above shined purple “We see that our dumb little demon didn’t realize he was fucking a witch. How does it feel to be controlled?”

“I knew you were an incubus. I just couldn’t believe you fell for the story about my cheating boyfriend and how heartbroken I was.” You pouted and mocked cried a little. “I should definitely take up on acting, did such a good job you couldn’t read the lies in my mind.”

His breathing was heavy and quick.

“Now, I don’t plan on killing such a gorgeous face. They really outdid themselves with you down there, such a pretty face.” You said, moving his head from side to side while giggling.

“What do you want?” He asked.

“The same thing you do, baby.” Your lips kissed his softly and you ground against his growing bulge—he was enjoying this. “How about this, I don’t kill you. Right? But you promise to fuck me whenever I tell you to. I think that’s a win-win situation for you.”

He laughed in disbelief.

“You’re fucking crazy.” He spat, a load groan ripping from his chest.

“And yet you are rock hard under me. I can feel you pulsing like horny loser.” You pout again. “I could also leave you bounded here, provoking you every single night. Draining you of energy slowly and painfully.” You smiled widely.

“You can’t kill me,” he said.

“Oh but I can. But we don’t want such a pretty face to go to waste.” You kissed his jaw until you reached his mouth. He groaned into the kiss, hips bucking up. You were intoxicating and now it made sense why you were so alluring to him. “Unfortunately for both of us, I think you are my soulmate, I was told a few years ago that I had a weird case of having a demon as a soulmate. My mother thought I was gonna die alone.”

Soulmate? The devil had given him a soulmate?

“Fine, but I will need to get energy from somewhere.” He bit your chin softly before you shook your head.

“If you agree, you can only sleep with me.” You smiled sweetly, mockingly. “I’ll give you enough energy so you don’t die. But you will never ever fuck any other being in the looooong years you have on Earth.” Which is forever, he knew that. For some reason that didn’t sound so bad to him, if you were his soulmate, maybe he could get used go this. He wasn’t lying when he said you had been the best fuck he’s had.

“Fine, I will do whatever you want.” He grinned and you bit down his lower lip until a metallic taste flooded your tongue.

Your teeth painted red as you smiled at him and he felt weirdly aroused at the sight. Your tongue lapped inside of his mouth sealing the pact.

And for some reason that sounded oddly nice. He was bound to your soul now, you’d be much gentler than the other dude anyway—and he couldn’t wait to fuck such a pretty little thing for eternity.

“Good job, Mingyu. You got yourself a brand new owner.”

WONUMP3 2025

[yourhostfortheevening]

☆Head over Heels - Marko x reader☆

♡Authors note♡ I TOLD YOU GUYS I'D GET TO MARKO EVENTUALLY. This is totally shamelessly inspired by @doeyeddaydream 's Marko headcanons, love em bby MWAH <3 here he is my silly lil guy, honestly i just needed a reason to do upside down spiderman kisses with these guys. i love yearning, it'd be great if I actually knew how to write it

Warnings: none I <3 writing fluff, this was written in a day and you can tell

if this is out of character please do not tell me, I enjoy making shit up 😌

"Hello?" You shout as you stumble your way through the entrance of the cave. You hear a faint shuffle of movement but no one comes to meet you. Lighting a couple of candles you awkwardly step around the main area looking for signs of (un)life.

Listening out for anything at all you swear you can hear faint footsteps coming from behind you, swivelling around you're met with nothing but the beat up furniture of the cave.

"Boo."

You jump, turning a complete 180 to see a mess of blonde curls and an amused grin greeting you. Marko.

He was upside down, floating close to your face.

"Where is everyone?"

"Out." He states plainly. "Just me and you tonight."

"I'm surprised you convinced Paul to keep away from us."

He shrugs. "Had to bribe him with a tape."

You both giggle at each other, he looks funny from this angle and you're sure you look the same. You smirk to yourself mischievously, suddenly struck with an idea.

"Wait." You speak softly, admiring him. "I wanna try something."

Slowly, you bring your hands up to hold his face, his eyes flick between your face and your hands before he moves to cover one of yours with his own. You lean in to kiss him, the angle is awkward but the gesture is sweet. He embraces your touch and your lips meet; the kiss is short and gentle but you both come apart smiling. He tastes like cotton candy and iron; you're tempted to go in for another one but decide to keep that for later. He looks awestruck as you rub circles on his cheek with your thumb, taking in all his features and committing this moment to memory.

"Ok..." You let go of his face and step back. "You can come down now."

He slowly brings himself back to the ground with a soft thud of his boots; the slight jangle of his jacket echoes in the silent cave. He can't help but look at you in complete adoration.

"Missed you, angel." He coos. You give a small laugh at the pet name.

Taking his hand in yours you make your way to the other side of the cave, pulling him along with you.

"What's the plan tonight, loverboy?" You throw yourself down onto the couch and he casually slides in next to you.

"I've got something for ya." He fidgets with his gloves as he talks, seemingly embarrassed to meet your eyes.

You playfully gasp, pointing at your chest. "For me?"

A gloved hand digs around in his jacket pocket before coming back out holding a bracelet. Shades of light blue and seafoam green move in his hand as he holds it up to you and gives it a playful shake, with a small "Ta-da!" for emphasis.

He slips the bracelet around your wrist, the beads and sea glass shining in the sliver of moonlight that peeks into the cave. He adjusts the clasp and his fingers brush over your skin. You glance from the bracelet to him and his eyes linger on your wrist, his expression wanting; you see them flash gold before he blinks and looks back up, giving you a soft smile.

"There." He breathes. "Looks good on you."

"Did you make this?" You ask, admiring the handy work; he nods with an enthusiastic grin.

"Well...seeing as we're making each other things-" It was now your turn to dig around in your pockets. "Here."

You place a mixtape into his hands, the words 'lover boy' scrawled onto the label in red marker, finished with a gold star sticker. You wait for a reaction, he just stares at it, his expression a mix of confusion and surprise. This quickly changes to pure joy as he pulls you into a hug and flashes a wide toothy grin before getting up off the couch.

He excitedly bounds over to the boombox and slips in the tape, pressing play. The first song starts as he adjusts the volume and rushes back over to you; he holds out his arm, gesturing for you to join him.

You smile and roll your eyes at him, giving him your hand. You then let out a shocked laugh at how eagerly he pulls you up; you almost crash into his chest, but he steadies you. The mixed materials of his jacket rub against your skin, he looks at you curiously and your heart flutters.

He takes a hold of your arms and positions them around his neck, then slips his around your waist as you both sway slightly to the music.

"I...I'm not much of a dancer." You awkwardly chuckle, looking down to stop him seeing the blush dusting your cheeks. He doesn't respond, instead, just gives you an amused smile.

You both continue to move from side to side like teenagers at a prom, paying no mind to the fast tempo of the music; Marko moves to hold your hand, pulling away for you to slowly spin under his arm. The dance feels so old fashioned, you burst out into a giggle and let go, ultimately breaking up the sweet moment between you.

He joins in your fit of laughter, eyes never leaving your form.

You're interrupted by the sudden feeling of someone behind you, a new pair of arms wraps around your torso, picking you up. You scream in surprise;

"What are you crazy kids up to?" Paul teases before dropping you, you turn around and playfully slap his arm.

"Asshole! Where did you come from?" You laugh.

"C'mon babe, you love it." He jokes back before looking at Marko, he looks embarrassed.

"How long have you been here?"

"Long enough." Paul replies with a shit eating grin.

inspo for this was a scene from lisa frankenstein believe it or not

I got way too committed to this and made the mixtape an actual playlist, have fun maladaptive daydreaming to this <3

Edit: I spent like an hour and a half drawing custom dividers for this please be impressed

Thanks for reading, love ya!♡

[zigzagziggyyy]

𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

═════════ ∘◦ ✞ ◦∘ ═════════

𝐴𝑟𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠, 𝑜𝑐𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑖𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘, 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠. 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑠, 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘-ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛’𝑡 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐻𝑒’𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔.

═════════ ∘◦ ✞ ◦∘ ═════════

𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦.

Part 2

✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞

𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞.

Word count - 1,300

✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞

“𝐒𝐞𝐞? 𝐈 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮,” Mark said, his voice a little too loud over the clamor. He gestured grandly at the plush toy in your hand. “𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫.” He’d said it with such earnest conviction that you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from a place of genuine amusement.

You felt a little silly, clutching a lopsided, neon-teal plush dolphin, a trophy from a rigged claw machine that defied logic. But Mark, your date from your new job, was a walking, talking cliché of endearing awkwardness, and this date was his attempt at a lighthearted escape from the drudgery of spreadsheets and office small talk. He’d insisted on proving his “skill” at the arcade games, and while he’d failed spectacularly at air hockey, you’d inexplicably pulled off a miraculous victory with the claw machine on your first try.

“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬,” you retorted with a smile, turning the dolphin over in your hand. “𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥.” You nudged his arm playfully. “𝐒𝐨, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞?”

“𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞,” he said, grinning.

“𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐫,” you corrected with mock seriousness, adjusting the toy’s floppy fins. “𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞.”

“𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡. 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬,” he conceded, holding his hands up in surrender. “𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭.” He ran a hand through his slightly-too-long hair. “𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐮𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭?”

You shook your head. “𝐍𝐚𝐡, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝. 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐢𝐫. 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰.”

Mark nodded, already turning to navigate the maze of blinking lights and chiming machines. “𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚, 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞!” he called over his shoulder, a final, cheesy joke before he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you to your own devices.

Left alone, clutching your unlikely prize, you wandered towards the wooden railing that separated the boardwalk from the expansive, inky canvas of the Pacific. The ocean, restless and murmuring, stretched out beneath a bruised twilight sky. The last vestiges of the sunset bled into shades of bruised purple and deep orange on the horizon, painting the waves with a fleeting, ethereal glow. It was beautiful, a calming counterpoint to the raucous energy behind you.

You breathed deeply, letting the cool, damp air fill your lungs, feeling the subtle vibration of the boardwalk beneath your worn sneakers. The dolphin, a garish shade of teal, dangled from your hand, its button eyes seeming to stare blankly at the darkening sea.

As your gaze drifted along the shoreline, past the twinkling lights of the amusement park rides, something caught your eye. On the far end of the boardwalk, near where the asphalt gave way to the beach, a small cluster of figures loitered by a row of motorcycles. Even from this distance, their presence felt like a disruption, a discordant note in the otherwise cheerful evening. There were four of them, clad in long coats, ripped denim, and layered shirts, their bikes gleaming with a dangerous allure.

You’d only been in Santa Carla a few weeks, enough time to learn the best coffee shop and the quickest route to the grocery store, but not enough to pick up on the local legends or the whispered warnings. So, when you saw them, you had no context, no stories of missing tourists or strange occurrences to draw upon. Yet, an instinctive prickle crawled up your spine. It wasn’t just their leather jackets or the casual way they leaned against their powerful machines; it was something in their collective posture, a predatory stillness that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it.

Trouble. The word surfaced unbidden in your mind, sharp and insistent. You couldn’t explain it, but you knew it. They radiated it - an aura of danger that clung to them like smoke.

You lingered at the edge of the boardwalk, eyes drawn to the group before you. They didn’t move like everyone else around here. There was a reckless ease about them, as though the night belonged to them and they had no need to rush. One of them, a lean blonde, threw his head back with a grin that caught the light, his laughter carrying faintly across the din of the crowd. Another, with a shock of spiky hair, shifted restlessly, his boots scuffing against the wood as if patience was a foreign concept.

You should have looked away. Any sane person would’ve. But something about them - about the way they owned the shadows , held you fast.

And then your gaze found him.

He stood slightly apart, leaning against a motorcycle with an indolent kind of grace. Dark hair spilled around his shoulders, catching none of the light, as if it swallowed the glow instead. He wasn’t part of their banter, wasn’t feeding off their energy. He was still. Watchful.

At first you thought you were simply observing him, cataloguing another detail to your silent impression of the group. But a strange shiver slid down your spine, prickling the back of your neck. You became aware -too aware -of the air between you. Slowly, your eyes adjusted to the dimming light, tracing the line of his face.

That was when you realized.

He was already staring at you.

Not just looking in your direction, but fixed - sharp and unflinching - as if he’d been waiting for you to finally notice. The moment your eyes met his, the rest of the boardwalk seemed to blur and fall away. His gaze locked with yours, and it wasn’t chance. It was deliberate.

He was already watching.

The world seemed to narrow to a single thread - his gaze and yours, pulled taut across the crowded boardwalk. For a long, breathless moment, neither of you moved. You weren’t sure if you couldn’t look away, or if you simply didn’t want to.

Then, so subtly it was almost imagined, the corner of his mouth curved. A faint, knowing smirk, there and gone, like a secret meant only for you. It sent a jolt through your chest, the kind that left you uncertain whether it was thrill or warning.

Your lips parted, though no words came. It felt dangerous to break the silence, as if sound itself might shatter the strange pull holding you in place.

“𝐁𝐨𝐨.”

You nearly leapt out of your skin. A hand clapped lightly against your arm, dragging you back to reality. You turned sharply, heart hammering, to find your date grinning at you, clearly pleased with himself for making you jump.

“𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱,” he laughed, slipping casually to your side as though he hadn’t just startled the life out of you. “𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞?”

You forced a breath, trying to steady yourself, but the air still felt charged. Your eyes flicked instinctively back across the boardwalk, back to the shadows, back to him.

But when your gaze returned, it wasn’t only him.

The one with the short spiky hair stood there now too, his long black coat shifting in the evening breeze, a cigarette glowing faintly between his fingers. He was staring straight at you, lips curved into a sharp smirk that mirrored the one you’d just seen.

Both of them were staring at you. Watching

The dark-haired one , the one who had been staring all along , was no longer smirking. His gaze had shifted, colder now, sharper. He looked between you and Mark with an intensity that rooted you to the spot, as though measuring the space between you, weighing something unspoken.

Mark followed the direction of your stare. The teasing light in his eyes was gone, replaced with recognition and something darker -frustration. His jaw clenched, and he let out a low curse under his breath.

“𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬… 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧,” he muttered, the words rough with a bitterness you hadn’t heard from him before. His shoulders squared, a flicker of history written in the tension of his body. He knew them. Not just in passing - he knew them enough to hate them. Enough to fear what they meant.

The air between the two groups thickened, charged with an energy that made your pulse quicken. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Just the quiet drag of a cigarette, the faint curl of smoke, and those stares - one mocking, one unreadable, both impossible to escape.

Then a sharp bark of laughter split the moment, coming from somewhere deeper in their cluster. Engines roared to life in unison, loud enough to shake the boards beneath your feet.

The spiky-haired one flicked his cigarette aside, sparks scattering, while his smirk lingered, daring you to look away. The dark-haired one didn’t join him at first. He lingered, his gaze still on you, the weight of it pressing down until your chest ached.

Finally, with one last deliberate look - direct, unflinching , he swung a leg over his bike. The machine snarled beneath him, headlights glaring like predatory eyes. Together, they tore away into the night, engines howling as the boardwalk swallowed their shadows.

But the impression of them -the smirk, the smoke, and most of all that stare, clung to you, etched into your mind with a permanence that left your skin prickling long after they’d gone.

♱━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♱ ♱━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♱

[gosmigenergy]

A VISIT FROM THE EASTER BUNNY

( Triple Frontier Boys x F!Reader )

Summary: You surprise the boys with an Easter Egg Hunt but will they find them all to claim their prize.

Warnings: Mentions of Food, Mentions of Drink, Language, Nickname/Pet Names, Anal Toy, Biting, Marking/Love Bites, Oral (Female Receiving), Fingering, No use of Y/N

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3.1k

Author’s Notes: What’s Easter without a Bunny-verse story? Hi, yes, I disappeared, sorry about that, it will happen again... Admittedly, a lot happened in the space of a month and I'm on holiday rn.

“Hey! I said no peeking!”

Will leaned against the doorframe as you clutched an egg close to your chest, balancing on top of a footstool.

“I’m just letting you know I’ve put away any breakables.”

You deliver him a sideways glance, “It’s not going to get that bad.”

He chuckles at hearing how you emphasise ‘that’, you seem to be forgetting about the night at the arcade. In fact, he realises you’ve never seen the other three in friendly competition, if you could call it friendly competition.

“You know how competitive my brother and Pope get?”

“Yeah but you and Frankie will balance it out, right?”

This was going to get out of control.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

There he was, ever the gentleman.

“I’m good, thank you.”

“Alright,” he says, lifting his body from the door, “You gonna be ready when we get back?”

There’s still a decent pile of eggs in the box on the floor, the cute gingham dress you hadn’t put on, the surprise you were hoping Will hadn’t found in your bag for the week. There was so much left to do, so little time when it came to your boys wanting to see you.

“Can you make a detour?”

His eyebrows raise, “That’s gonna cause suspicion.”

You flutter your lashes.

“Now, how can I say no to that face?”

Smile broadening, you giggle as he approaches, his palm sliding across your lower back. He gazes up at you longingly before you bend down and softly kiss his lips.

“Be careful.”

“I will,” you sigh.

It didn’t fill him with confidence, you weren’t incredibly clumsy but you sure picked your moments. The time you stubbed your toe in the middle of the night and screamed like a banshee was ingrained into his memory, mostly because you scared the shit out of him.

“I’ll give you a heads up when we’re coming,” he pats you on the ass.

“Thanks, babe.”

Then he leaves, the jostle of keys in the distance before the door opens. Once you hear the lock click, you drop down from the footstool and drag it along the floor, the egg’s destination had to move because Will had the memory span of an elephant.

You heard the boys before you saw them, the rowdy conversation barely muted by the heavy wooden front door. Perched on the armchair, you fluff up your hair and smooth the fabric falling over your thighs.

“You’re late,” you exclaim as they flood through the opening.

Will shrugs, “You said to make a detour.”

Standing up, you fold your arms, purposefully pushing your boobs up.

“What about your Easter present?”

“We don’t need chocolate, baby, you’re sweet enough,” Benny smiled.

Except you looked anything but, you didn’t spend nearly three hours hiding eggs around Will’s place to not have them play the game. The scowl you deliver has the four of them sharing a confused look.

“What did you do?”

“I dunno.”

Frankie played with the peak of his cap, “You need to apologise.”

“I think it’s too late for that.”

Santiago noticed your eyes narrowing.

Will locked one arm around his brother and another around Frankie, leaning the pair of them close to his chest.

“Look,” he said, “Bunny worked very hard to do this for us.”

“Do what?”

The question perks you up, bringing the smile returns to your face much to their comfort.

“An Easter egg hunt!”

Benny and Frankie wrangle their way out of Will’s hold whilst Santiago groans, he hasn’t done one since he was about five.

“What’s the prize?” Benny’s smile widens.

You raise an eyebrow, “What do you think?”

There’s a brief moment of calm before chaos ensues.

Frankie scrambles to get ahead of Benny and up the stairs, Santiago heads to the office whilst Will casually strolls to the kitchen.

“Call ‘em out,” Santiago yells.

Benny found the first, “One!”

“Two,” Frankie’s next, “Three.”

Your body loosens and you take your place back on the armchair as the numbers keep coming through the rest of the house. From the distance, you can feel Will’s eyes on you, watching as you fold one leg over the other yet there’s something in your movement that isn’t right.

You glance to him.

“I hope you know what you’re in for.”

You thought you did but now, you can’t be sure.

After you put all the time and effort in hiding them, the boys found nearly every single egg in twenty minutes.

“Sixty-nine? Is that a joke, Bunny?”

“No,” you say sweetly.

There was still one undiscovered, you were patiently waiting for them to figure it out. Santiago was hovering in the hallway, eyes growing dark.

“Where is it?”

“That’d be cheating.”

“How about hot, cold,” Benny suggested, “who’s warmest?”

You play along, taking a look at each one of them.

“Frankie.”

He plumps his lips as he plans his next move before taking a step forward.

“Warmer.”

Next he steps to the left.

“Colder,” you cock your head.

He huffs, striding right next to the armchair.

“Hot.”

He ducks behind, his broad hand tucking behind the cushion.

“Not so hot.”

When he returns to you, you flutter your eyelashes at him. His hand twitches as he brushes the curve of your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck. You feel the heat rise to your chest as Frankie’s hand, painstakingly slow, travels south.

“Flip her over.”

The two of you flinch, forgetting you were in a room with the others.

Santiago’s attention goes to Will, eyebrow arching and he doesn’t even have to comment before his old comrade responds.

“Call it intuition.”

There’s a second where you manage to prepare yourself before Frankie grabs your hips and rolls you over. The short cut of your dress lifts with the force and he catches it out of the corner of his eye, something white and fluffy. He tugs the fabric over your ass, revealing the bunny inspired butt plug.

They groan in unison.

“What? The plug’s egg shaped.”

Frankie swats your ass, “Now, that’s cheating.” 

He crouches down to your level, pointing a thick finger and you can’t help giggling. His straight expression cracks as his smile widens.

“You gonna pull it out?”

Frankie glances over his shoulder to Benny.

“No,” he says gruffly, “she’s the Easter Bunny.”

You shake your ass a little however the temptation is too much. Benny growls, bounding over the couch to try and catch you yet you move quicker than he’s seen before. Squealing, you whip passed Santiago, who barely flinches, leaning further into the wall when Benny comes charging after you.

“I’m too tired for this,” Frankie flops into the armchair, tossing his cap to the side. “Lemme know when they’re done.”

He rolls his shoulders and sinks into the seat before he closes his eyes, the sound of the chaos ensuing somewhat soothing.

There’s thunderous steps as the pair of you run upstairs, the laughter and playful taunts slightly muffled. Will and Santiago smirked at each other as they listened to your footsteps move from the guest room into Will’s room and back.

Will was actually thinking about how nice this was, the house loud with happiness, filled with the people he loved who he’d happily cook a meal for tomorrow except it was short lived.

The series of heavy thuds from the staircase moved him, Santiago and Frankie from their positions.

“Why does Fish get your bottom half?”

Your head lulls in Benny’s lap, “Because he didn’t try to break his favourite part.”

Frankie growls, eyes narrowed in Benny’s direction, as he plants his lips back onto the red hot area of your ass. You tried to ignore how the sensation travelled through you, settled warm into your core.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

It wasn’t, it was more your shoes having no grip to blame for the injury you sustained but now that you were over the initial shock, you were going to milk this for all it was worth.

“But I was trying to run away from you.”

Benny sighs exasperated, taking your chin in his thumb and forefinger so you look at his face, riddled with guilt.

“How long’s it gonna take til you forgive me?”

“Until I get what I want.”

His smile grows wide, a quiet chuckle from his throat — not long then.

Santiago was on the sidelines, patiently waiting for the right time to attack.

He watched as Frankie’s broad palm slowly strokes a line from the curve of your ass and down your thigh before heading up again. This motion would calm you, settle you into a false sense of security except you’d gradually be getting wetter, your arousal pooling and sticking to the inside of your bare legs.

And that was when he’d make his move.

“What’s the plan?” Will inquired, the glint coming to his comrade’s eye.

Santiago bided his time, wandering over when he was sure you were about to fall asleep between Benny and Frankie, who still lazily soothed your skin.

“Enjoying yourself, honey?”

You hum, “I should fall down the stairs more often.”

His eyebrow arches, “Don’t do that.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Benny could see his brother moving into position. He kept his mouth shut, glancing to Santiago whose eyes flitted to Frankie, they had to get him move somehow.

“Fancy another beer, Fish?”

His head lifted sluggishly, sulking as he reluctantly removed himself from you. He saw Benny’s eyes dart from Santiago to you, the faintest twitch of a smirk on the corners of his mouth and Frankie’s brows unfurled.

“I’ll get ‘em.”

“Aaaaw, I was comfy,” you grumble.

He got himself out from underneath your legs.

“I’ll be right back.”

But without him snuggled against you, it felt empty, the chill of the spring air dancing over your skin. You use Benny to lift yourself up, slumping into a seated position with a huff, your scrunched expression aimed at Santiago.

He remained pokerfaced.

When Frankie came back, he placed two cans of beer on the far side of the coffee table. The boys remained silent and before you can utter a word, he and Benny move swiftly. You complain as they each hook an arm under your knees and bring them to your chest, their upper bodies trapping arms.

“What the hell?!”

“We haven’t had a prize yet, Bunny.”

Santiago looked at you hungrily, seeing how your pussy contracted at the rasp in his voice even though your dress almost covered it. The temperature rises from your chest, tingling as the heat spreads across your cheeks as he steps closer, your body shrinking into the couch cushions.

He takes the hem of the fabric in between two fingers and slowly peel it back so your glistening cunt is fully in view.

“Francisco got you all worked up, huh?”

You hated how flustered he made you, “I guess.”

It came out small, caught in your throat as more eyes fell on you. You couldn’t see Will yet you knew he was somewhere behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck raising.

Santiago’s fingertips teased your inner thighs, the sensitive spot involuntarily spasming as his middle finger skimmed over. He gradually comes to his knees, kissing your right knee before creeping closer and closer.

There’s movement either side of you, Frankie dragging his slopping nose over your shoulder, his patchy whiskers catching on the elastic. Benny was squeezing a hand between your frames, his fingers making easy work of the buttons that hide your breasts from him.

His distraction made Santiago’s lips locking around your clit just as sweet.

Your head flopped back as a satisfied sigh escaped your parted lips, eyelids growing heavy. You heard the movement behind you, a kiss coming to your forehead.

“How you doing there, Bunny?”

“Great,” your eyes open fully, “you here to claim your prize too?”

“Of course.”

Smiling, you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, suppressing a moan as Santiago sucks on you gently. You can’t help but lose yourself in the moment, allowing your eyes to fall shut, your head lulling to one side.

Will takes the opportunity to latch onto the crook of your neck, teeth grazing before he eases the pain away with a lick of the tongue. Benny had unhooked every button, peeled away your fabric confinement so your breast could breath and he could nuzzle into your flesh. Frankie trailed your décolletage, sinking deeper into your skin, kisses growing sloppy.

When Santiago relaxed his jaw and started to suck, you entered absolute bliss.

The shiver shot up your spine, your chest releasing a quivering groan that only encouraged Will to tuck himself underneath your jawline, his platinum beard scratching your skin.

“Fuck.”

Santiago released your clit with a pop, tongue flattening against your entrance, lapping up your spilling juices. Your chest ebbs and flows with every lick, heartbeat quickening as the boys become more ravenous, teeth nipping, sinking further.

As another moan passes your lips, Will catches it in his own mouth before taking your breath away. You fight for dominance though against them, it’s always useless, his tongue already pushing into your mouth to intertwine with yours.

There was a quick glance between him and Santiago, a cryptic message exchanged.

Will deepens the kiss, a hand coiling to hold the back of your head steady. Santiago’s tongue pushes through your outer lips before engulfing your clit, immediately sinking in a couple of fingers into your entrance until they disappear up to the knuckle.

He drags them back, purposefully pressing against the back of your inner wall.

Benny and Frankie grip harder as your whole body quakes, Will capturing the nervous whimper of what’s to come.

You should have guessed that Santiago would want to torture you like this after you made them participate in something so childish, kept the final egg hidden snuggly inside you. You thought that maybe he’d pull the butt plug out of you in some elaborate way yet this was probably more fitting.

Will let you come up for air when Santiago as he slowly pumped in and out of you. He softly kissed across your cheek and you flinched when you felt another set on lips sneaking up your neck.

The rumble from Frankie’s throat vibrated through to your core, your pussy clenching around Santiago’s fingers. You release a shaky breath, your head heavy as you open your eyes to flushed cheeks and blown irises.

“This wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”

“But you’re enjoying yourself?”

For a brief moment, Frankie switched to puppy dog eyes and all you could was melt, your hips tilting up as you surrender. You feel Santiago’s lips smirk and he increases the speed of his movements, your slick squelching.

“Of course she is,” Benny almost slurs as he still tries to consume you.

“My brother isn’t lying, is he Bunny?”

Will’s hot breath trails down your skin and brings the goosebumps to the surface, all you can do is giggle nervously. Frankie’s laugh dances across your bare chest before he whispers into your ear.

“I love it when you’re lost for words, hermosa.”

He nips at your lobe before continuing to travel down your neck.

Will forces your head closer, crashing his lips squarely onto yours and you surrendered, letting them overwhelm every one of your senses.

Your ears flood with their hungry groans, nostrils filling with their distinguishable aromas and sweat as the heat rises to stifling. The taste of beer sinks into your tastebuds as Will’s tongue explores every inch of your mouth.

You’re fully aware that the bruise on your ass wasn’t going to be alone by the end of this, small loving marks were going to decorate your neck, your breasts, your inner thighs. In the morning, you’d gaze upon the constellations and know exactly who made them.

If you could remember by then, your mind already beginning to scramble as time seemingly slowed. Santiago worked you for minutes yet it felt like hours, inserting another finger into you as your inner walls tightened around the girth.

“I’m gonna come,” the words spill from your mouth when Will lets you breath.

“Not yet, sweetheart, I don’t think Santiago’s done with you.”

You whimper as Santiago growls against your clit, the others fixing you into position.

But the tingling had already started in your digits and toes and that was how it began. Gradually travelling over every inch of your body until you were vibrating, humming with anticipation until the fingers inside were fighting against you.

“I can’t,” you sob as Will lifts your head upright.

“Bunny,” his voice softens, “look at me.”

His free hand strokes your neck, discreetly checking your pulse as slowly but surely, you open your eyes. He always looks so proud of you when you take it, a tender smile across his lips, baby blues glistening with the faintest reflection of your ruined image.

Then there’s a glint.

“This is what happens when you’re not careful.”

His tongue flicks over his bottom lip then licks your neck at your throbbing veins before he sinks his teeth in.

Your strangled cry bounces off the walls.

Santiago moans as your arousal coats his fingers, squelching as he carries on pumping but your once alive nerve endings are numb, the aftershocks causing your muscles to spasm. He pulls out, droplets spilling to the floor as he prises himself way from you, his chin glossy.

Frankie and Benny loosen their hold, draping your legs against theirs as they spread their warm palms to ease your uncontrollable twitches. Your chest heaves as you attempt to get oxygen back into your lungs, Will’s jaw relaxing, lips kissing to take away the pain.

His hand releases the back of your head, fingers brushing the hair clinging to your face. You feel his nose nudge under your jaw as he came to greet you.

“Sweeter than chocolate,” he hums.

The air immediately shifts as you scoff, “If you say so.”

Santiago grunts as he lifts himself off the floor, squeezing your knee in the process.

“I may have to do a taste test.”

The desire ignites in your belly again.

“Well,” Benny announces, folding his arms with a smug expression spread across his face. “I wanna see how long this bunny can bounce for.”

Frankie is the first to erupt into laughter.

You cover your face, “Oh my god, Benny.”

Will shakes his head, straightening up and grabbing a small chocolate egg from the basket on the side. As he begins to peel the foil, he catches your face peeking from the couch.

“So…”

He hears how your vowel lengthens.

“Did you guys get me anything?”

All of them fell silent, eyes flitting between each other — they were all in trouble.

[pimosworld]

Just say the word

Pairing-Tf boys x reader (one shot)

CW-18+, NSFW, MDNI, established polyamorous relationship, light teasing, edging, voyeurism, orgasm denial, exhibitionism, possessive tf boys, mentions of smut, fingering, soft dom Will, soft dom Santi, soft dom Frankie. Unsuspecting victim ( poor Jack) he’s innocent in this I swear.

Summary- The boys decide to have a little fun at your expense.

WC- 1.7k

A/N- Set in the (story of us) universe but can be read as a stand alone. I feel like I’ve neglected this bunch since I finished the story and I miss them and their delusional little bubble. Please enjoy this ficlet set some time after the story of them ends and their relationship begins.

[Series Masterlist]

Not beta read

It feels weird being back in your normal spots. Nestled away in the corner booth in the dimly lit bar. All five of you crammed in like nothing has changed. Except it has. 

  This thing forming between the five of you for the last several months. No rules, no pressure, just the four of them not being able to let you out of their sight for more than five minutes. It’s intoxicating and overwhelming and you love it. 

  You are situated between Frankie and Santi, Will on the other side of Frankie sharing glances. Knowing tells as you squirm in your seat. Santi’s hand squeezes the plush skin of your thigh while Frankie rubs soothing circles against your knee. It all looks so normal to anyone walking by. They’ve been teasing you all night, switching places as they grab more drinks at the bar or head to the bathroom. 

  Will grins as he watches you fidget, not so subtly rubbing your legs together at the thought of his hands so close to where you needed them most. Not less than ten minutes ago he had you pleading into his ear like you were telling him a secret. His fingers tracing up and down the seam of your panties, wetness pooling against the fabric as you chased his touch. 

  Goosebumps raise on your arms as Santi’s fingers slip just past the string, curling in so precisely, you half to clear your throat to stifle the moan that crawls up the back of your throat. 

  “Ya ok sweetheart?” Will says and the look you flash is equal parts beautiful and terrifying all at once. 

  Santi kisses your shoulder, such a sweet endearing gesture to juxtapose the absolute filth that is happening below the table. “She’s fine.” A look to Frankie, something unspoken passing between them as the corners of Frankie's eyes crinkle with a smile. 

  You bite the inside of your cheek as his thumb presses against your clit. Dropping your head to your hands to wipe the sweat from your brow. 

  “Just say the word baby and we’ll stop.” Frankie’s voice in your ear luring you into the lion's den. You weren’t going to lament that easily. 

  Your hand drifts below the table, palming at the growing bulge in his pants, you yelp when he smacks your thigh. His palm soothes the spot as you let out a shaky breath. 

  “Hands where I can see them sweetheart.” Will commands. 

  “Fuck you.” 

  “Thirsty?” Ben’s voice cuts through the pounding in your ears. His one hand with a refill pitcher of beer, the other gesturing behind him as he mouths ‘be nice.’

  Following close behind with an empty glass is a familiar face. Not one you don’t want to see on any given day,  but right now you’re struggling to breathe normally. 

  “Fucking Jack.” Frankie bites out and you regard him with a quirked brow. 

  “I thought you liked him.” Your head turned in a whisper and he just lets out a deep sigh. 

  It’s not that he doesn’t like him so much as he knows how much the guy likes you. Judging by the grin etched across his face as he approaches the table. 

  Santiago withdraws his hand and you whine at the loss, disguising it with a cough as Ben shoots you a worried look. 

  Everyone reaching for the cold glasses as Jack slides into the booth next to Ben. You watch Santi from the corner of your eye, slowly taking his fingers in his mouth. The others preoccupied with greetings as he hums at the taste. 

  Your mouth agape at the filthy show of dominance. He takes a sip of his beer, his dark eyes on you as he swallows and you watch the way his throat bobs. 

  “You’ll catch flies that way cariño.” 

  You tamp your mouth shut as heat licks up your spine. 

  Frankie slides you a beer as a peace offering and you let out a breath hoping the torture is over with your new guest at the table. 

  Jack says your name and you probably look a little wide eyed when you say hello. Sounding a little too happy to see him. Completely unaware that whatever tension building right now is not directed at him. 

  “Haven’t seen you guys here in awhile.” He says as he pours himself a beer. 

  “We’ve been…busy.” The boys snicker as Ben hides his smile behind his glass, unbeknownst to Jack. 

  “What have y’all been up to? Any hot dates recently?” 

  The boys stay quiet, shooting each other looks as Frankie’s hand starts inching it’s way up your thigh. 

  He nudges Ben with his elbow. “Oh come on, spill. I know you’ve at least got some.” 

  Ben laughs it off, eyes flicking to you and memories of your date the previous night. He looks shy almost as he rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t.” 

  You’re starting to gauge their annoyance at his presence. 

  Frankie doesn’t falter as he pinches the fabric between his fingers and you clamp your thighs shut. Your sandals clicking loudly on the floor. 

  Santiago laughs, motherfucker…with a stupid grin on his face and Will has to bite down on his lip to keep his at bay. 

  “In fact.” Jack starts up again. Pointing at Santiago.  This guy doesn’t quit apparently. “Last time I saw you here you had some hot blonde in your lap.” 

  He drops his head to the table and for his sake he looks apologetic. “I don’t recall.” The redness creeping up his neck and the simmering tension below the surface. 

  Frankie relents when he notices your obvious discomfort. They’ve been edging you all night and now this Jack off had to come and ruin all the fun. 

  “What about you honey? You seeing anyone?”

  Bingo

  His attention on you, a wide smile on his face. He draws his fingers up and down the condensation on his glass and you have the sudden wild thought to pour it on you. Anything to escape this fresh hell. 

  He wasn’t an unattractive man. Tall, broad shoulders and a strong jaw. Gorgeous head of dark brown hair that was always kept neat and combed back. He’s a firefighter so he’s got a great build and he can on occasion make you laugh. 

  Which is perhaps why the rest of the table looks as though they’re three seconds from choking him. 

  Frankie’s hand flexes a little on your thigh, Ben cracks his knuckles and stares straight ahead at Will whose jaw is so clenched you think he might break a few teeth. 

  And Santiago…looks as stoic as you’ve ever seen him. Too calm. 

  “Baby.” Frankie’s voice and the startling use of the pet name brings you back to the present. “He asked you a question.” His head tilted in waiting. 

  You fumble for words you’ve never actually spoken out loud. Not knowing what the right or wrong thing to say is. “I’m…keeping my options open.” 

  That seems to be the right answer for now. Santiago gives you a reassuring squeeze as he resumes drinking his beer. You can feel Frankie relax next to you and Ben’s shoulders aren’t reaching his ears. 

  Will still watches Jack, who obviously can’t take a hint. 

  His tongue dragging along his teeth as he eyes you from across the booth. For the sake of his safety you don’t want to let him finish whatever thoughts he has running through his head at your admission. 

  You slap your hands down on the table. “I’ve had too much to drink.” Signaling to Frankie and Will to slide out so you can relieve yourself, or at the very least get some space between you and Jack. 

  Someone has the nerve to pinch your ass before you exit the booth and curse low under your breath as you retreat to the restrooms. You were absolutely going to kill them when you got home later. 

  —

  The blatant flirting, the casual use of your sacred nickname, the way he’s not so subtly checking out your ass as you walk away. 

  The guys aren’t certain but Jack acts as though he’s not in clear immediate danger. But he’s a firefighter so the regard for his life is skewed toward running at a problem and not away from it. 

  As you round the corner disappearing from view he focuses his attention back on the table. Whistling low under his breath as he shakes his head still oblivious to the rage closing in on him. 

  “I still don’t know how one of you hasn’t snagged that yet.” Jack says offhandedly as he downs the rest of his beer. 

  Ben takes it from him and Santiago flinches, unsure of what the younger man will do as he calmly slides it out of reach. 

  It’s one of those intense moments. In the wild we freeze it in photographs and videos. In the images there’s a predator, perhaps a cheetah staring unblinkingly at a gazelle, who stares back with a look of surprise and terror. 

  “How do you know we haven’t?” Ben’s body turns to face him as he clears his throat. 

  He stutters a little, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Look if I’m moving in on anyone’s territory you just say the word-“ 

  “You are.” Will says without specifying whose. 

  Will stands as you make your way back to the table and Jack stands with him, waving goodbye. Frankie stays seated, not yet able to hide the evidence of his arousal. The whole display not doing anything to compress his excitement. 

  The guys all shift as you slide in, Will taking his seat next to you as Frankie throws his arm over your shoulder and he can see the wheeler turning in the poor man’s head. You never stood a chance.

  “Leaving so soon?” Your sweet voice doing nothing to disguise your obvious guess at what just transpired. 

  “Ugh…ya I’ve got an early day tomorrow.” He offers a tight lipped smile before walking away with his tail tucked. 

  Frankie’s laugh jostles you and you move to slap his arm as he grabs your wrist. “Play nice hermosa.” 

  You huff as you pry it out of his grip. “What did you guys say?” 

  You’re met with mostly silence and their grins at each other and just like that you’re right back where you started the night. Them, teasing you…and you loving it. 

  Will’s hand slowly creeps up your thigh,bunching the fabric of your skirt in his hand as he leans in close. “Now where were we sweetheart?”

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[formulafanfics13]

Could we maybe some poly! Lando/Oscar/plus size Reader like Landoscar are already a thing and trying to get with reader but she is not getting the hint? Like maybe it's because she knows they where with girls before but they where all the model type like skinny and heteronormative pretty ore maybe cuz she thinks they don't like girls at all...

Smut if u cann

Thankuuuu

sweet thing, we want you - LN4 & OP81 🔥

Masterlist

summary: lando and oscar have been a couple for years. quiet, lowkey, devoted. and lately? they've both been obsessed with you. but you don’t get it — not really. you’ve seen the girls they used to hook up with: models, influencers, picture-perfect. you? soft, round, curvy in every way. so you think the flirting is just teasing. until one night, you ask why they’re being so sweet. and they show you. warnings: poly relationship, established lando/oscar couple, plus size!reader, smut, body worship, praise kink, vaginal sex, oral sex (reader receiving), spit, soft dom vibes, reader insecurity, filthy reassurance, unprotected sex, light jealousy mention, emotional vulnerability, reader cries a little, aftercare implied, long and indulgent

You always figured it was a joke. The way Lando slung his arm around your shoulder and called you “gorgeous” every time you walked into the room. The way Oscar stared at you when he thought you weren’t looking, cheeks flushed, jaw clenched. The way they always saved you the middle seat on the couch between them. The way they’d bicker about who got to carry your bags. The way Lando kissed your cheek, always your cheek. and Oscar lingered in the kitchen while you were bent over in leggings.

But you thought- No, you knew - They liked girls like that.

Girls like the ones they used to bring to races. Tall. Skinny. Instagram-coded. The kind of beauty that came with filters and designer shoes and flat stomachs. The kind of girls that didn’t make jokes about their thighs chafing or shirts riding up when they reached for the top shelf. Girls who didn’t get insecure stepping into hotel pools or strip out of jeans only when the lights were off.

So when they turned their full attention on you , you figured it was just the way they were. Flirty. Stupid. Sweet. But never serious. And that’s why, tonight, when Lando hooks his fingers in the belt loops of your jeans and says you’re driving me crazy, you know that?, all you can do is laugh and shove his hand off your waist.

“I’m not stupid, Norris.”

He looks confused. Oscar freezes behind him.

You sigh, glancing at the kitchen tiles, trying not to let your voice shake. “I get that you two are close. That you’re… open or whatever. But you don’t have to tease me just because I’m around. I know the kind of girls you actually go for.”

Silence. Like dead, horrible silence.

Until Lando steps closer. Hands gentle, suddenly serious. “What kind of girls do you think we like?”

You scoff. “Come on. Look at the girls you’ve been seen with. Models. Skinnier than my arm. Conventionally hot.”

Oscar steps in too. Closer. Closer. The two of them caging you against the kitchen counter now. Lando leans in. “You think we’re flirting with you for fun?”

You blink. “Aren’t you?”

Oscar speaks up, quiet but sharp. “We want you.”

Your chest pulls tight.

Lando hums, voice low. “Been wanting you.”

“But-”

Lando shuts you up with a kiss. Not just a peck. Not a tease. A real kiss. Deep. Slow. Open-mouthed. Tongue against yours.

Oscar watches for a moment, then grabs your hand and guides it to his crotch. He’s hard. Through his sweats. So hard. Your eyes widen.

Lando pulls away, breath hot against your lips. “Still think we’re kidding?”

Oscar presses a kiss to your jaw. “Come with us.”

Their hotel room is warm. Clean. Familiar. You’ve been here before. But never like this. Lando’s behind you, unzipping your jeans with shaking hands while Oscar kisses your throat from the front. Their touches are soft. Reverent. Like you’re something holy.

You make a noise when your shirt comes off, a small, embarrassed sound, and immediately try to cover your stomach.

Oscar stops you. “Don’t,” he whispers. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Lando palms your tits from behind, squeezing gently. “You don’t know how many nights I’ve thought about these.”

You gasp when he kisses your shoulder, then your back.

Oscar kneels. Kisses your stomach like it’s sacred. Like you’re carved from marble. “You make me feel hot,” he murmurs. “You make me feel starved.”

He hooks your panties down. Lando helps. And when you’re bare, Oscar just stares. Then leans in and licks a slow stripe up your pussy.

You whine.

Lando chuckles. “Told you she’d be loud.”

Oscar’s tongue is perfect. Gentle. Deep. Firm where it counts. He keeps eye contact when he sucks your clit into his mouth.

Lando’s hands are on your breasts, squeezing, massaging, pinching your nipples until you’re trembling.

You come with a cry. Body arching. Legs nearly giving out. But they don’t stop. They can’t.

Lando lifts you like you weigh nothing and lays you across the bed.

Oscar’s eyes are wild now. “Please let me fuck you.”

Your heart pounds. You nod. “Yes-fuck, please.”

Lando kisses you while Oscar pushes in slow. You gasp. He groans. “You’re so wet, baby.”

Lando strokes your hair. “Look at her, taking you so well.”

Oscar thrusts in deeper. You moan. Loud.

“You’re perfect,” Lando whispers. “Every inch of you.”

Oscar picks up the pace. Fucking into you like he’s dreamt about it for years. Lando kisses you through every moan. You cry a little. They don’t laugh. They kiss your cheeks. Your eyelids. Your thighs.

“You’re everything,” Oscar says. “Everything.”

Lando strips and kneels beside you, cock in his hand. You take him into your mouth without even thinking, moaning around him while Oscar drives into you from below.

It’s filthy. Beautiful. All of you shaking. Whimpering. Gasping into each other’s skin. You come again, clenching hard around Oscar, sobbing into Lando’s lap. Oscar follows with a broken groan, hips jerking, coming deep inside you.

Lando pulls out of your mouth, lets you breathe, kisses you so gently it makes your chest ache. And then he fucks you too. Slow. Sweet. Deep. You’re wrecked. Full. Loved.

And finally, you believe them.