Starlightgalore🧚🏾

My Safe space🤍✨ minors DNI🔞✖️ Anxiety and adhd safe haven💙🦦

[szagaloree]

Master list❄️🦋Oneshot request rules!

~Update|6/26/23|~

⚠️Warning⚠️

I do NOT give consent to any of my writting on third parties not other writings! Please do not steal!

M’baku:

Like ice❄️ x T’challa (complete)

I see you (complete)~link updated

Pov (complete)

I’m comin home (complete)

Fell in luv (coming soon)

Erik killmonger

I don’t mind

Set fire to the rain(new release🎊)

T’challa(coming soon)

Bruce banner (coming soon)

Hulk/Proff hulk

into you

Tony Stark (Coming Soon)

Jake Sully

Three hearts combined(arrival🍾)

Sativa (coming soon)

Tsu’tey

Let the shadows fall behind you(now out!🎉)

Neytiri (Coming Soon)

Quartritch His wife

Eywa’s gift from hell

Still don’t know my name (coming soon)

[makoodles]

ミgood loving

🍓pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

🍓tags: nsfw, interspecies relationship, size kink, human x na'vi, jake is an embarrassing friend (but we're very grateful to him), oral sex (fem receiving), p in v sex, squirting, overstimulation

🍓word count: 16.6k (when i say i have no self control i mean it)

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

The Omaticaya clan gather around the cook fire every evening; communal meals are a huge part of their community, and it had taken quite a while after the expulsion of the RDA before the humans that had stayed on-planet were allowed to take part. It was a huge concession on the part of the clan, but it’s one that is met with great eagerness.

You join the clan for dinner almost every night. It’s taken some trial and error for you to discover what you can and can’t eat; some of the spices and meats don’t agree with human digestive systems, but you thoroughly enjoy the vegetables and sweet fruit desserts.

The company, too, is far more enjoyable than the company back at the science outpost. No offense to the science guys or anything, but you were never very close with any of them and spending extended amounts of time with them made you feel like you were losing your mind. 

No, you much preferred spending time with the Na’vi. 

“Strawberry milkshakes,” You say with a wistful little sigh, lounging by one of the fires.

Jake thinks for a moment, his big blue alien face all scrunched up. It had taken a long while to get used to seeing him like this, but you can still see his human features if you look closely. 

“Gatorade.” He decides at last. “The grape flavoured one.”

It’s a stupid game, listing out the things you miss most from Earth, and you know he’s mostly just humouring you. Jake is more at home here amongst the Na’vi in his Avatar body than he ever was back amongst humans – while you grow nostalgic and wistful, Jake seems as unaffected as if he were recalling a poorly remembered dream.

“Chocolate.” You say, tilting your head back to stare up at the darkening sky. Though it’s past eclipse, the forest is still alive with life – the trees overhead and the moss all around you glows, so beautiful that you wonder, once again, how any of this is real.

“You’ve said chocolate like, three times.” Jake points out, grinning. 

“Yeah, well, I really mean that one.” You sigh.

That makes him laugh, and he reaches out to shove hard at your shoulder. It’s something he used to do a lot when he was human and you had gotten too absorbed in your work at the lab, but now he’s twice your size and strong – you go flying straight off the log you’ve been sitting on and sprawl into the dirt.

“Oh, shit.” As always, he sounds surprised, as though his strength is still catching him unawares. “Sorry.”

You grumble a little as you push yourself up out of the dirt, but you’re not really annoyed. It’s good to see Jake in such good form – being blue and nine feet tall suits him more than his human body ever did, and you can’t drum up any irritation when he’s so visibly happy. 

“Ma’Jake.” A call comes from the forest behind you, and you turn your head.

The sound of Neytiri’s voice and soft footsteps has you trying to push yourself up and look unaffected; she’s always so elegant and composed, and it’s embarrassing to be caught sprawled on the forest floor like an idiot.

But then you catch sight of another figure following behind Neytiri, and you scramble up to your feet so quickly that you nearly overbalance entirely.

Tsu’tey is probably one of the most terrifying people you’ve ever met in your whole life. The Na’vi are all intimidating, courtesy of their enormous size and general dislike of humans, but Tsu’tey seriously takes the cake for being the scariest of all of them. He’s so rarely seen without a scowl on his face, and he tends to radiate an aura of authority and power that’s scary enough to have your knees weakening. And yet, after a period of outright hostility towards you and your kind, he’s finally started to soften just a little. You think your constant presence around the place has finally started to wear him down.

You fancy the hell out of him.

As Neytiri joins Jake and murmurs a soft greeting in his ear, you’re left staring stupidly at Tsu’tey. Damn, he’s so pretty. His proportions are exotically attractive, all broad shoulders and sculpted abdominals and an insanely narrow waist. You hope that it’s not obvious that you’re gaping at him like a fool, but since he’s not blind, you’re sure he notices.

“Hi.” You manage to say, though it comes out a little strangled.

Tsu’tey just looks at you with that same odd expression he always wears around you, as though he doesn’t quite know what to make of you. He's always been a little hostile towards humans, though he's never been anything but polite around you (and maybe a little awkward). You try not to delude yourself into thinking it means anything; most likely, he's trying to be cordial for Jake's sake.

“Demon,” He greets, frowning. “You have a stick in your hair.” 

“Oh,” You breathe, reaching up to bat at it. “Shit.”

That seems to mark the end of his attention towards you, because he turns back towards Jake and Neytiri before sitting opposite them on the log that Jake had accidentally shoved you off. Neytiri had already settled in beside Jake and handed him a waterskin filled with something that makes Jake grimace fondly after he takes a deep drink from it.

For a moment, you hover beside the three sitting Na’vi awkwardly. You’re uncomfortably aware that you’re just a human among them, an interloper on this planet and in this village. You’ve been friends with Jake for a long time now, ever since you both arrived on Pandora, but sometimes moments like this remind you just how much things have changed. Your friend isn’t human anymore, and you feel the familiar pang of loneliness settle deep in your chest.

“Hey, kid, you ever had unilpay?” Jake says suddenly, turning back to you and holding out the waterskin. “Try it.”

You’re startled out of the melancholy sort of air that had settled over you. You had been lost in self-pity, assuming that your presence had been forgotten – it’s a pleasant surprise to find Jake grinning at you as he holds out what you know is the Na’vi version of alcohol made from some sort of fermented sap.

His stupid grin reminds you of old times, and you grab at the waterskin eagerly. It’s probably a terrible idea to try alien alcohol, but you’re seized with the desire to fit in amongst this little group. Besides, you and Jake have never been known for thinking things through – Norm was usually the one to pull the two of you back, and he’s not around right now.

As you take a deep breath before carefully lifting your breathing mask up so you can sip at the unilpay, Tsu’tey continues scowling at you. He’s always so stern, so carefully guarded – you imagine he probably disapproves of you being allowed to join in on Omaticaya customs.

“Is that wise?” Tsu’tey asks, looking to Jake with a frown. 

Jake just snorts. “She’s had worse than this.”

That makes you snort too, and you don’t argue as you sip at the drink that he’s offered you. It’s far sweeter than you had expected, with a thick texture that coats your mouth and throat like syrup. It’s missing the acridity that you associate with human alcohol, but you can feel the familiar burn that you associate with alcohol creeping up your throat and into your nose, making you cough.

You hurry to press your mask back to your face as you cough and reach out to pass the waterskin back to Jake. “Damn, that’s strong.”

Jake takes it back then passes it to Tsu’tey, who drinks from it deeply. It looks as though he’s gotten over his disapproval of you drinking the Na’vi alcohol, at least for now, and you take the opportunity to subtly admire the soft bobbing of his throat as he drinks.

“I thought of something else,” Jake says, drawing your attention away from Tsu’tey. 

You glance at him, surprised yet undeniably delighted that he hasn’t forgotten about you entirely now that Neytiri and Tsu’tey have arrived.

“Oh yeah?”

The grin on Jake’s face is all teeth, and in this moment he looks more like his human-self than he has in a long time. 

“A nice, iced beer.” He drawls, looking immensely satisfied with himself.

Your mouth twitches, delighted that he’s still engaging in your silly little game. “I was always more of a cocktail girl myself.”

Jake laughs and nods in approval. “Oh yeah, good point. How good does a Sex on the Beach sound right now?”

Beside him on the log, Tsu’tey chokes on the unilpay. His expression betrays his shock, and the beads in his hair all clack together as his head whips around to stare at Jake in disbelief. Neytiri looks similarly surprised, but she seems to be familiar enough with Jake’s human idiosyncrasies that she’s willing to wait for an explanation.

You start to giggle, both in response to Jake’s comment and to Tsu’tey’s reaction. “Yeah, that does sound pretty good.”

Tsu’tey looks rather scandalised, and he whips around to watch Neytiri for a reaction. She’s too busy watching Jake with a narrow-eyed expression that’s scary enough that you wonder how Jake doesn’t realise that he’s in danger.

Taking pity on the two of them, you explain. “It’s a type of drink from Earth. Like this.” You gesture at the waterskin. “But sweeter and fruity.”

Neytiri’s face softens in understanding, and her shoulders relax as she leans against Jake once more. Tsu’tey, meanwhile, is still looking a little confused – mercifully, he drops it, and instead begins passing the waterskin around again.

For the next two hours or so, you sit with the trio of Na’vi in the flickering firelight. Your initial anxiety that they didn’t want you around begins to fade slowly but surely. It’s a little awkward at first, but Jake makes an obvious attempt to include you in conversations and soon you’re relaxed and happy in their presence. 

The three of them are so big that they take up most of the space on the log, but Jake manages to squeeze you in to sit in between him and Tsu’tey. You side-eyed him heavily at the time (he knows exactly what he’s doing, you just know it, but Jake pretends that he’s gone temporarily blind to your scowling), but now you’ve relaxed into the warmth radiating from their stupidly big bodies.

You can probably attribute your newfound relaxation to the effects of the unilpay – you feel comfortably loose and calm, your thoughts coming slow and easy as you lean into Jake’s side on the log. It’s not the same kind of tipsiness that you’re used to with Earth alcohol, but rather a softer and more comfortable sort of easy-going tranquility.

 For the most part, the three Na’vi converse among themselves. You’re content just to sit in the light of the crackling fire as you bask in the warmth of the smoky forest air, listening to the conversations going on over your head. They speak almost exclusively in Na’vi, but thankfully your language skills have improved massively since you’ve arrived on Pandora – you’re able to follow along with minimal difficulty.

The unilpay has made you a little sleepy, and your eyelids feel heavy as you relax into your little spot between Jake and Tsu’tey. You’re grateful for how easy the evening feels; sitting in their company feels effortless in a way that you’ve been missing dearly. Since Jake had left to live full-time with the Omaticaya, you’ve found yourself without any close friends among the rest of the humans in the outpost.

You may not be as familiar with Neytiri and Tsu’tey, but you still feel comfortable enough in the cosy light of the fire that there’s no awkwardness between the four of you.

Or at least, almost no awkwardness.

“What about Saeyla?” Jake is asking, his eyebrows wagging cheekily as he speaks to Tsu’tey over the top of your head.

A significant portion of your sleepiness had vanished the second Jake had started teasing Tsu’tey about the women in the clan. It had taken everything in you to keep from visibly perking right up at the topic – it’s a little embarrassing to be so goddamn invested in his answer, and even more embarrassing to feel the little embers of jealousy stirring in your chest, as if you would ever stand a chance with him. God, you’re so stupid. 

Neytiri clicks her tongue, answering in Tsu’tey’s place. “No. She is too arrogant, not suited well to him.”

Tsu’tey rolls his eyes, but looks amused at Neytiri’s insistence on answering for him. “It is as Neytiri says. I have no interest in her, and I have already denied her.”

“Ninat, then.” Neytiri says, raising the waterskin to her mouth and smiling coyly over the top of it. “She would make a fine mate.”

It doesn’t escape your notice that Jake’s eyes keep straying to her as though he can hardly stand to tear his gaze away from her, and you feel something in you ache wistfully at the sight of it. You’ve never looked at Jake in any sort of romantic sense – he’s only ever been your closest friend, but seeing that soft look in his eye has you wishing for a relationship like that for yourself. 

Pandora can be a lonely place for a human so far from home. Your eyes slide back up to Tsu’tey, though he doesn’t seem to notice. If anything, he seems to be avoiding looking at you.

Tsu’tey hums, giving it some thought. You try to keep yourself as unobtrusive as possible, curling into the side of Jake’s big avatar body and trying to hide the little glances you keep shooting up at Tsu’tey’s face as he considers Ninat as a potential mate.

“She would.” He says at last, but he doesn’t sound particularly enthused about it. “But I do not desire her, either.”

You have to try not to let your emotions show on your face. It would be stupid to get your hopes up about anything to do with Tsu’tey. He may not be Olo’eyktan anymore, having handed that mantle over to Jake during his near brush with death, but he’s still a significant figure within the village. 

His reputation is important, and he is so careful with what he says and does and how he interacts with the world around him. Even if he was able to get over his distaste for the entire human race, it’s not likely that he’d deign to lower himself to your level.

Maybe Jake can tell that he’s not going to get any juicy gossip out of Tsu’tey, because then he turns to look down at you. You recognise that glint in his eye, and find yourself tensing where you’re trapped in between the two big Na’vi men.

“What about you?” He asks, a grin beginning to grow across his face. “Max mentioned you went on a little date last week with that guy you were seeing. What was his name again? Toby, or something?”

Your eyes narrow. “There is no way he told you that.”

“He did.” He says smugly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You push yourself up with a sigh so that you’re not leaning into his side so much anymore. This means that you’re pressed a little closer to Tsu’tey, but you’re too preoccupied with being the sole focus of Jake’s attention to be self-conscious about it – it always means trouble when he’s focused on you like this.

“Because it was a bust, obviously, and all you’ve ever done is complain about him.” You say, scowling at him.

God, you just know Jake is bringing this up in front of Tsu’tey to try and fluster you. He’s such a dick – you’re gonna kick his ass later.

“You didn’t get lucky?”

Your eyes widen, and you immediately slap at his arm hard. Your smacking at him doesn’t seem to phase him in the slightest; he doesn’t even move away from you, just snickering as you slap at his arms. 

“Asshole!” You hiss at him. “Don’t ask me that in front of other people!”

The blank expressions on Tsu’tey and Neytiri’s faces are proof enough that they have no idea what that particular human phrase means, but that isn’t enough to ease your mortification.

“We’re all friends here.” Jake says, swatting your slapping hands away with ease. “No need to be embarrassed. What, was it not good?”

Oh, he’s doing this on purpose. He knows that you’re embarrassed, and he’s enjoying watching you squirm beside Tsu’tey. You are so going to get him back for this later. 

“We didn’t fuck.” You say bluntly, fighting past the burn in your cheeks so you can glare at him. “It wasn’t worth it.”

You can feel Tsu’tey react from beside you, but you’re not brave enough to turn and look at his face. Oh god, you don’t want to know what he thinks of this conversation. No doubt his face is all scrunched up in his usual expression of disgust, and you don’t think you can handle seeing it right now.

Jake clicks his tongue, though he’s clearly amused. “If he was bad in bed, you should have just told him. I told you that faking orgasms wouldn’t end up well – you’ve given him a big head now-”

“I told you not to tell anyone about that!” You hiss, taking a swipe at his head. Infuriatingly, even though you’re all sitting down he’s still too tall for you to reach him as he just leans back.

Because Jake is an asshole, he just laughs. And to think you had just been feeling so grateful for his friendship. Now you just want to throttle him.

Neytiri leans forward so that she can see you around the bulk of Jake’s body, her brow all furrowed. After a brief hesitation, she hands the waterskin out to you. 

“I do not understand,” She says as you take it. “He does not pleasure you, but you pretend that he does?”

Oh, sweet fucking lord. You push your mask up and chug at the unilpay, relishing the sweet burn in the back of your throat and praying that you somehow blackout in the next couple of seconds. The next time you manage to get Jake alone, you’re going to break his kneecaps. 

Your plan to drink yourself into oblivion is cut short when Tsu’tey’s big hand wraps around the waterskin and tugs it away from your mouth. Disgruntled, you let him take it and press your breathing mask hastily back over your face – you’re still not able to look up at his expression.

“Some guys don’t know how to please women.” Jake answers for you, his arm looping around Neytiri’s shoulders as he leans in to murmur into her ear. “Lucky we don’t have that problem, huh?”

“Ma’Jake.” Neytiri scolds, but she doesn’t really sound angry. If anything, she sounds pleased, as though she’s only chastening him for public appearances. Sickening.

The unilpay is strong, enough so that it mellows out some of the furious embarrassment that had felt as though it were choking you. It’s not quite a feeling of drunkenness, but it relaxes you enough that you feel pleasantly loose and tipsy.

“Is this a problem for Sky People?” Neytiri asks, apparently unwilling to let the subject go. “Not being able to please their women? They are not good lovers?”

You try not to wince. Fuck, this is so humiliating. It’s one thing joking about this with Jake – he’s your best friend, and he’s always poked fun at you for shit like this. You probably could have handled Neytiri’s questions too, though not without a little embarrassment. 

But the real source of your burning mortification is sitting to your immediate left; Tsu’tey’s body dwarfs you where you’re sitting, and his silence during this conversation is worse than anything he could have said.

“No,” Jake hurries to answer his mate, apparently concerned about what she might think about him and his own ability in bed. “No, it’s only a few-”

“I’ve never been with a man who’s a ‘good lover’,” You interrupt. Admittedly, you just say it to get a little vengeance on Jake for bringing up this conversation in the first place, but you’re still being truthful. “They’re always clumsy, rough, and totally fucking unaware of themselves, just hammering away at a vagina. They just turn into a sweaty animal hunched over you and grunting “baby you like that?” directly in your ear as they breathe all over you. It's not pleasant.”

Neytiri wrinkles her nose at the mental image that seems to conjure in her head. “Ah.”

“Damn,” Jake whistles, his eyes darting at something over your head before his grin widens impossibly further. “Someone’s frustrated.”

This time it’s Neytiri that swats at him, to your delight. Jake’s ears actually lower this time as he glances at her, but even the risk of Neytiri’s displeasure isn’t enough to shut him up for long.

“I’m just saying, obviously the guys you’ve been with have got no game.” Jake insists, making you scoff.

“Oh, and you know all about pleasing women?” 

Neytiri hums. “He is quite good at it.”

Your face collapses into a scowl, unable to control your expression, and Tsu’tey grunts in disgust beside you. Well, this is just typical. How did the attention all land so squarely on you, anyway? You had just been trying your best to keep to yourself and enjoy your damn evening.

Jake looks stupidly smug now, his arm slung around Neytiri tugging her closer to him. 

“What makes Sky demons good at mating, then?” Neytiri asks with poorly disguised interest. For all her distrust around the human scientists that have remained on the planet, she’s clearly curious – you can only guess that her interest stems from wanting to understand Jake’s human roots.

You can feel Tsu’tey shift beside you, and shrink down a little in the little crevice that you’re crammed into between him and Jake. Fuck, he must be so uncomfortable right now. You’re surprised that he hasn’t just stormed off yet, considering the topic of conversation.

It’s a small mercy that Jake answers in your stead, because you feel so mortifyingly aware of Tsu’tey’s big, overwhelming presence looming beside you.

“Easy,” Jake says pompously, smiling in self-satisfaction. “Three specific qualities.” He holds up three fingers, counting them out. “Excellent at foreplay, good stroke game, eats pussy.”

“Oh my god,” You groan, but you can’t suppress the laugh that bubbles out of you. “You’re disgusting.”

“I do not know this word.” Tsu’tey says suddenly. “Pussy. What does it mean?”

It’s the first time that he’s spoken in a while, ever since the conversation had turned towards human sex, and you’re mortified that this is the first question he’s asked. You choke, and Tsu’tey’s big honey-coloured eyes slide to you as you splutter, as though he’s curious about your reactions.

When Jake translates the word into Na’vi, Tsu’tey’s expression melts into understanding. “Yes, I see. And the other words? What do they mean?”

Jake’s expression turns sly. “Let me explain-”

That’s just about all you can take, and you struggle to wriggle your way out from between the two of them. “Alright! I think that’s my cue to go to bed!”

Jake is still laughing as you push yourself to your feet, but the majority of your attention is taken up by the way Tsu’tey is staring at you. He clearly can’t understand your reaction, which only humiliates you further. 

The Na’vi are so much more open about sex and relationships than humans are, viewing it as just a fact of life. It’s clear that neither he nor Neytiri can understand why you’re so embarrassed by this conversation, but Jake finds the whole thing absolutely hilarious. 

“You don’t want to help me explain foreplay to Tsu’tey?” He asks faux-innocently, his head tilting to the side as his lips tug in a grin.

“Jake.” You hiss at him, eyes narrowing. “I am going to fuck you up later, I swear to god.”

Jake looks as though he’s winding himself up to make another stupid comment, but a sharp look from Neytiri has him changing his mind. You’re impossibly grateful for her; you always thought she didn’t like you, but her intervention now along with her somewhat sympathetic expression has you wondering if perhaps she likes you more than you had thought. Or maybe she’s showing sympathy towards Tsu’tey; her gaze is darting over your head at his face, after all.

You take your opportunity to flee before anyone can say anything else. You’ve already suffered enough embarrassment tonight, you think as you bid them a hasty goodbye before beating a retreat.

As you disappear into the trees, you hear Tsu’tey’s voice murmuring, “Sky people have much shame when it comes to mating. It is strange.”

The water is warm and earthy-smelling, crystal clear as it laps against your skin like wet silk. The hot springs are like an open secret among the Omaticaya, and it had been with great delight that Jake had shown you how to get to them beneath the shelter of an arched cave weeks ago.

Unilpay may not have been like any human alcohol you had ever experienced, but the hangover you had woken up with the next morning was very familiar. Amidst the dull throbbing of your head and the light nausea, you decide that the only thing that could possibly help was a bath.

Now that you’re submerged in the silky hot water of the natural spring, you think that it just might have been the best idea you’ve ever had. Your face is flushed with a light sheen of sweat from the heat of the water, and you have your head pillowed in your arms where you’re half-hanging over one of the moss-covered rocks that line the pool.

It really is beautiful in here. The entire cavern is dimly illuminated by phosphorescent algae growing in the water and along the dampest patches of the walls, glowing a luminous blue. Along the rocky ceiling, it grows and glows like stars. Even the rocks glow a soft shade of green, padded by a soft, cushy sort of moss.

You’re lucky too that you’ve come to the springs so early in the morning. It’s rare to find them empty, and you delight in the fact that you’re able to enjoy the blissful solitude. The only problem is now that you’re alone, there’s no way to escape your thoughts.

The conversation from the night before keeps repeating inside your head, and every time it replays you find yourself sinking lower and lower into the rock you’re laying on. The unilpay must have been really dampening your reactions, because in the light of day the mortification is positively staggering.

Having a conversation about disappointing sex would be one thing, but to have that same conversation in front of Tsu’tey? The most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen in your life? The man already thinks that you’re a demon, and the thought of him sitting there and listening to a conversation about your embarrassingly disappointing sex life makes you want to curl up into a ball and die.

How are you ever going to look him in the eye again? You know that Jake had started that stupid conversation on purpose, just to embarrass you – he knows about your silly little crush, and never fails to poke fun at you when he can.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by the sound of bare feet scuffling against rock, and you blink your bleary eyes open and squint through the curling steam rising from the water.

For a moment, you think that what you’re seeing is a figment of your imagination conjured by the fact that you had just been thinking of him.

But then Tsu’tey keeps stepping forward, approaching the pool of water, and you realise that he is very real and very present.

“Hello, tawtute.” He greets, sounding bizarrely casual. It’s as if he had expected to see you here.

You startle, both at his presence and the fact that he’s actually greeting you. Your brain has stalled a little from his surprise arrival, and so it takes you a long time to comprehend exactly what he could be here for.

It’s only when his long fingers reach for the ties of his tewng that you fully register that you’re both in the hot springs for one reason – a bath.

“Oh!” You blurt stupidly, averting your gaze. Your entire upper body is exposed as you lay across the mossy rock with only your legs submerged in the water, but you’re quick to push yourself off and drop back into the pool in an effort to cover yourself.

Your modesty is wasted on him. The Na’vi are comfortable in their own skin, and nudity isn’t a taboo in their culture in the same way it is for humans. He barely even looks at you as he walks his way into the pool, though you can’t keep your own gaze from trailing back towards him.

The loincloth was the only thing he had removed. The rest of his jewelry remains tied around his neck and forearms, and you glance appreciatively at his narrow waist and the delicate white glowing freckles all over his firm pectoral muscles. He’s not the first Na’vi male you’ve seen nude, but this is the first one you’ve really wanted to see.

His legs are long and lean, and you try not to stare at his thighs as they flex when he wades into the hot water of the pool. Your eyes jump away when they reach the junction of his thighs, but not before catching a glimpse of what he’s packing there.

A little panicked, you duck down into the water until you’re submerged up to your nose, your gaze averted. Nudity may not be taboo to the Na’vi, but it still carries taboo connotations to you, especially considering this is a man that you’re attracted to.

You try to stifle your reaction as best as you can – it would be all too humiliating to have him realise just how you’re looking at him.

“I’m sorry,” You blurt, raising your arms so you can cross them over your chest. “I didn’t know there was anyone else here, but I was just leaving-”

Tsu’tey spares you a glance, though his eyes don’t linger on you. You can’t decide if the lack of attention is reassuring or insulting. 

“Stay.” He grunts, wading further into the centre of the pool, further than you had dared to go. It’s far deeper there, the water lapping steadily at his shoulders. 

He doesn’t say anything further, and so you end up hovering awkwardly in the shallow end of the pool with your back pressed up against the mossy rock you had been laying on. Though Tsu’tey isn’t paying you any attention, you keep your arms pressed tight to your chest in a weak attempt to cover your breasts.

Tsu’tey sighs softly as his shoulders relax in the warm water, one of his hands cupping the back of his neck as he rolls his head on his neck. The cave is quiet, the sounds of the softly bubbling water amplified against the wet rock walls, and you feel terribly self-conscious as you watch him dip himself in the water.

“You left quickly last night.” He says, his quiet voice almost lost amidst the soft sounds of the water.

You blink. It takes a moment for you to understand – he so rarely initiated conversation with you, always preferring to simply watch you in silence as you talked away.

“Oh.” You feel your face grow hot, and attempt to dip even lower in the water. “Right. Sorry about that. Um, Jake loves fucking around like that. He’s not very funny though.”

Tsu’tey hums, though his mouth quirks in amusement. “He is not funny,” He agrees. “But I learned much about human males. I did not realise they were so disappointing.”

“Oh my god.” You mutter faintly, eyes widening. The only thing you can think of that’s more embarrassing than standing in front of Tsu’tey naked is continuing the conversation about your disappointing lovers as you both stand nude in a bath.

Your soft exclamation draws his attention, and this time his eyes linger on your face. 

“Their inability to please you causes you shame?” He wonders.

You almost choke, recoiling a little at that question. Fuck, you always forget how blunt the Na’vi are, and Tsu’tey is even more straight-forward than most. But still, you’ve never spoken to him like this before. Yet here he is, asking you a very personal question indeed.

“I- I guess.” You manage to say, though it comes out a little strained. “I mean- it is a little embarrassing.”

Tsu’tey has hardly blinked as he watches you, and the intensity of his stare makes you unbelievably nervous. It takes everything you have not to fidget as he watches you; it feels as though he’s reading your thoughts right off your face.

Finally, after an impossibly long moment, he grunts dismissively before wading towards the edge of the pool. You watch him go, squinting to see what he’s doing as he reaches for something hidden among the glowing flora growing around the hot springs.

When he pulls back, there’s some sort of glowing flower clasped in his hand. It’s a pretty pink colour, luminous against Tsu’tey’s vibrant blue skin. You watch with interest as he dips it in the water before beginning to rub it along his arms and chest. You can’t see any point to it, and you squint curiously as he massages his skin with the silky petals.

“What is that?” You’re finally brave enough to ask. 

“Yursyulang.” Tsu’tey says, though he doesn’t raise his head to look at you. “The flowers are used to wash.”

You don’t reply, too distracted by the fact that his hands are now dipping lower in the water so he can wash at his thighs. You look away hastily, growing flustered, before turning to take a look at the vegetation growing around the edge of the pool just behind you. 

Sure enough, there are a few of the delicate flowers growing in the crevices between the rocks all around the pool.

You pluck one, peering at it carefully. The petals are a little bit waxy, though when they come into contact with your wet fingers the waxy texture turns oily. The stamen protrudes from between the petals, dropping white pollen all over your fingers.

Experimentally, you swipe the flower over your arm. It leaves an odd trail of oily residue in its wake, and you squint at it in confusion. 

When you look up again, you’re surprised to find that Tsu’tey has stepped much closer to you. You reach up to cover your chest again, startled.

“You are using it wrong.” He says bluntly, reaching for the flower in your hand. “Give it.”

You hand it over without a word, though you can’t figure out what he wants with it. You don’t think you’d be able to argue with him even if you tried.

He steps closer again, and you take a nervous step back. The mossy rock presses against your spine, halting your retreat. Tsu’tey steps forward again, before reaching for your arm.

You let him take it, taking a breath and holding it as his thick four-fingered hand closes around your wrist. Even in the heat of the pool, his touch feels scorching. 

“Like this.” He murmurs, gripping the flower and stroking it softly over the skin of your arm. 

Your mouth goes dry, and you watch with wide and confused eyes as he cups his hand in the water and pours it over the oily residue left by the flower petals. The water causes it to emulsify, turning milky against your skin.

By all rights, that should have been the end of his little demonstration. But to your bewilderment, he just keeps going. He’s more gentle than you would have guessed by his size and scowl, and you feel your already traitorous heart shiver and grow even softer. 

The yursyulang leaves your arm feeling clean but soft, without the usual dried-out feeling you get from soap.

You swallow thickly as his touch glides up your arm and over your shoulder, the silky sensation of the flower on your collarbones making you shiver despite the heat in the pool. 

When Tsu’tey speaks again you jolt, startled as the peaceful quiet of the cave is broken.

“You are too little,” He murmurs, one of his fingers tracing over your collarbone. “It is difficult to reach. Come here.”

He lowers himself down to your level, and your eyes follow him as he sits on a stone ledge built into the side of the pool. He gestures at you to come closer, and you follow his direction mindlessly. You spare a brief moment to wonder if you’re imagining this, but you really don’t care – you’re willing to soak up any little bit of attention he’s willing to give you.

You let out a soft noise of surprise when he grips your arm and pulls you up onto the ledge next to him. You hurry to cover your breasts again, despite the fact that he’s made no move to glance down.

“Why do you do this?” He wonders, reaching forward and tugging at your forearm where it’s held tight to your chest. 

“Um-” Your laugh is high-pitched and nervous, and you wince at the sound of it. “Humans aren’t as confident in their bodies as the Na’vi tend to be, I guess.”

He hums, then reaches out and drags the yursyulang across your chest, just over the swell of your breasts. You take a sharp inhale through your nose at the touch, though there don’t seem to be any ulterior motives behind it.

“Your people are strange.” He murmurs, cupping more water and letting it drip over your chest. “You do not like your own bodies, you do not connect with nature, you do not touch each other. It is no wonder that tawtute males are bad lovers.”

“Oh my god,” You roll your eyes, but you think he just might have a point. “Can we stop talking about this?”

Tsu’tey’s mouth twitches, and he tugs at your arm one more time. Reluctantly, you allow your arms to drop. This time, he does look at your tits, and you feel hyper-aware of the way your nipples have firmed up in the steamy air as he touches you.

“I have been thinking about what Jakesully said last night,” He murmurs, gliding his hand lower over the swell of your breasts. “He explained, after you were gone.”

You stare at him, wondering if you were imagining the tension that’s singing between the two of you. Why is he bringing this up now? He had been so quiet last night that you had just assumed he was as disgusted as he usually was around humans. You can hardly believe he’s touching you right now, and voluntarily too, as he brings up the subject again.

“I’m… not altogether sure I want to know what he said.” You admit a little hesitantly.

He chuckles at that, and startles you by closing his hands around your hips and hoisting you up over his lap. You end up sitting with your legs splayed around one of his thighs, your hands pressed against his chest as you grab at him for balance.

You let out a weird warble of surprise as he settles you firmly on his thigh, but he doesn’t seem to notice your bewilderment at all. He’s still acting as though what he’s doing is perfectly normal, and maybe it is.

Maybe you’re the one being weird. Communal bathing is normal among the Na’vi, and you know that it’s considered a type of bonding for them too. Maybe this act of washing you is supposed to symbolise his acceptance of you among the clan? 

“Tsu’tey,” You whisper, your brow furrowing in confusion as he washes your stomach. “What’s happening right now?”

One of his arms winds around your waist, and you melt against him when he drags the yursyulang over the bare skin of your back. His grip is so strong, his hand so large and warm that it makes your thoughts scatter into nothingness.

“You do not like me touching you?” He asks. His voice is a little huskier than usual, but he still sounds unbelievably casual considering the position the two of you are in. 

"That's- no, I don't mean that-"

It doesn't seem as though Tsu’tey is paying the slightest bit of mind to the way you’re getting flustered, because he just gives you a careless little smirk as his head tilts. He moves like a particularly graceful cat, and you shift a little nervously on his thigh.

"No?" His lips are beginning to curve up into a tiny, amused smile as he watches you scramble. "You seem confused."

You take a little breath in a weak attempt to collect yourself. You feel overheated and shivery, your thoughts slow and soupy. Fuck, you’re aroused. It’s the worst time possible to be sitting naked in Tsu’tey’s lap, and you’re just so grateful that the water your lower half is submerged in is covering how you’ve grown slick and sticky.

His gentle touch all over your body in the name of washing is one thing, but when one of his hands slides up into your hair you freeze. 

You may not have been certain about the connotations of bathing, but you know perfectly well what the connotations of him washing your hair is. This is an intimate touch on a level that you’re not sure a human could ever understand – a Na’vi’s hair is especially revered considering the proximity to their neural queue. This is a touch that is usually reserved for family or for mates.

When you glance up at his face, you find that he’s already watching you with those intense amber eyes of his, as though trying to read you for a reaction.

“Tsu’tey?” You ask, your voice wobbling a little. “Is this- I mean, are you-?”

“I have been thinking,” He interrupts, his blunt fingers massaging at your scalp. “About your unworthy human mate.”

“They’re not-” You begin, your eyes fluttering shut as he scratches softly through the roots of your hair. “He’s not my mate.”

Tsu’tey grunts, though he sounds pleased as one of his hands drifts low over your belly with the yursyulang. 

“Good. It does not sound like there are any tawtute males worthy of mating with.” 

You laugh, breathless and a little awkward as you try to pretend that your stomach hasn’t just clenched up like a fist at the feeling of his hand trailing over your navel.

“Well,” Your murmur, a little wryly. “Maybe if human men had to go through a big rite of passage before choosing a mate, they’d be a little more appreciative.”

Tsu’tey’s brow crinkles slightly. “They do not deserve iknimaya. And they do not deserve a mate.”

You laugh again, but this time it comes out strangled and weak. You’re beginning to get far too flustered sitting in his lap like this, but you can’t work up the willpower to clamber off him. Does he even realise that the way he’s touching you is considered sexually intimate for humans? You’re naked for god’s sake.

But then he must realise, you think. He’s washing your hair, and that’s a huge display of intimacy for Na’vi. Is there something you’re missing here?

Then he speaks again, and your doubts are very firmly shattered.

“I want to give you pleasure.” He says. His voice is low and rumbly and quiet, and yet in the quiet of the cave he may as well have been shouting. “Since you have never experienced it with a lover.”

You goggle at him like an absolute moron. Your thoughts have gone utterly, totally blank. It’s like your brain has been shocked into a hard reboot, and you stare uncomprehendingly as his words sink in. He watches you right back, the picture of patience. The only sign of his impatience is the flick of his ear.

Before you can answer, he buries his face into your neck and lays a hot, biting kiss against the sensitive flesh just beneath your jaw. You jerk in his lap, eyes blowing wide at the feeling of his hot, rough tongue and his sharp teeth. 

Oh god, this is actually happening. He’s actually touching you, kissing you, holding you. 

“What about Ninat?” You ask stupidly, then curse yourself. Why the fuck are you bringing up Ninat? Talk about self-sabotage.

Tsu’tey doesn’t even bother to respond immediately. He just takes a hold of your hips and lifts, gathering you into his strong arms effortlessly as he stands in the water. The movement comes as a surprise, and you clutch at him with wide eyes as he turns and settles you down on the same moss-covered rock you had been lounging on beside the pool when he had first come in.

Now that you’re no longer in the hot water, gooseflesh breaks out all over your skin and your nipples firm up obviously. You shiver a little as you watch his eyes drift down over your breasts and linger, before dropping lower over your belly.

“What about her?” He asks at last, though he seems to get distracted by the way your thighs are rubbing together.

You push yourself up to a sitting position on the mossy rock, your fingers curling into the soft vegetation. “Didn’t you say you were courting her?”

“No.” Tsu’tey says bluntly, crawling up onto the rock beside you and situating himself between your legs as he leans in to kiss your collarbones. “I did not say this. I am not courting anybody yet, despite my efforts.”

When his mouth drifts lower over your breasts, you forget your train of thought entirely. His tongue is big and rough as he licks over your nipple. He’s big enough that when he goes to take your breast into his mouth, he covers almost the entire swell of it. 

You push your chest into the wet heat of his mouth with a soft breath, but then he reaches up and pushes you right back down. His strength takes you by surprise, and all you can do is lay there and gasp as he licks at your tits like a man starving.

“Oh fuck.” You breathe, raising your hand to cup the back of his head. Your fingers wind into his braids, clutching at them as he bites unmistakable hickeys into your tits.

Even through your mask, you can tell he smells like the sweet-scented flower he had been using to bathe. The pleasant smell goes to your head, leaving you all hazy and wanting.

When Tsu’tey’s mouth leaves you, you nearly whine out a complaint. He hardly gives you an opportunity to make a sound though, because his hands keep running all over your body. The pads of his fingers trace over your shoulders, his palms coast over your breasts and belly, he grips and gently squeezes at the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Jakesully-” Tsu’tey begins, before pausing. A small frown furrows his brow, and he seems to be struggling with how to phrase his next words. “He courted you? Before he became one of the People?”

The shock of that question causes you to jolt, startled right out of your dazed state of arousal. 

“What?” You almost screech, attempting to sit up. Tsu’tey’s hand closes around your waist, keeping you still, but you still manage to scowl up at him in utter bewilderment. “No, fuck! We’re friends! We’ve always been friends! It’s not like that at all!”

Tsu’tey’s shoulders loosen, as though some tension you hadn’t even noticed he was carrying is beginning to leak away. “Ah. He seemed... familiar with your pleasure. Or lack of it.”

"We talk! Jesus-"

You’re still a little shell-shocked by the question as Tsu’tey returns to pressing kisses down the length of your stomach. Why would he have asked you that? Surely it was obvious that you and Jake were just friends? Neytiri would have struck you down if you were anything more, you were sure. 

You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts that it takes a moment to realise that Tsu’tey has stopped trailing kisses down your belly. Instead he’s come to a halt, and you can feel him staring down between your legs. The sudden interest has your breath catching and your cheeks burning.

When you try to close your thighs, his hands clamp firmly around your legs to keep you spread open and still. 

“You have hair here.” He comments, his brow all puckered in bewilderment as he reaches a finger out and drags it through the curls of your pubic hair.

“Yeah.” You say stupidly. You imagine it must look bizarre to one of the Na’vi, who are naturally hairless everywhere except for the thick, glossy hair on their heads.

“What is its purpose?”

You open your mouth, and then slowly close it, then open it again. “I, uh… I don’t know, really. It grows when humans reach puberty.”

He cards a finger through it, eyes sharp and curious. It’s a pretty weak explanation, but Tsu’tey seems satisfied enough with it. 

His touches grow bolder, his fingers moving with purpose down towards your swollen cunt. You had just started to curse yourself for not shaving, but then the pads of his fingers run over the puffy hood of your clit and you moan quietly as your thoughts scatter.

You pleasured little sounds seem to encourage him, because his touches get bolder. His fingers trace over the contours of your cunt, in between the slick folds as though testing to see how wet you are, before returning to your clit again. 

His other hand wanders down towards your legs, and he hooks his fingers around the soft pudge of your thigh. He squeezes lightly, and makes a soft grunt of amusement.

“Are all Sky People so soft?” He wonders, pressing his face into the swell of your tits as his mouth curves up in a smirk.

You don’t even answer, raising your hand to cup the back of his neck in an attempt to keep his head where it is. Your stomach is twisting in excitement and arousal, your chest heaving as you attempt to keep your breath steady inside your breathing mask. God, you want his mouth on your tits again.

He seems to know what you’re thinking, because he lifts his head up to grin at you. You’ve never seen him so expressive before – he’s usually so blank-faced and scowly, so to see his sharp teeth all bared in a wild grin, the skin around his eyes crinkling, nearly takes your breath away.

He kisses your left breast again, his rough-textured tongue rasping over your nipple and making you let out a soft, breathy little whimper.

“You like this.” He murmurs. There’s a little bit of wonderment in his voice, as though he’s pleasantly surprised by your reaction.

“Yeah,” You breathe, a little embarrassed. “It feels good. But- could you-”

He kisses your other tit, nipping gently at the underside of it, before lifting his face to look at you again. That amused expression hasn’t faltered at all, and one corner of his mouth twitches up into a smirk as he watches you struggle to express your desires.

“I will do what you wish,” He murmurs, “But you must tell me first.”

He bows his head and drags his nose up along your breastbone towards your collarbones. His breath tickles at your wet skin, and his plump lips trace little kisses all over you as he goes. He’s so gentle, but his touch feels positively electric and leaves a line of goosebumps breaking out in his wake.

You feel like you’ve been clubbed over the head. You’ve been crushing on Tsu’tey for so long, but never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined a situation like this, with him looming large and imposing between your legs and asking how you want him to please you.

What the fuck? You think wildly, before shoving your confusion aside. Who cares how you got here – you’re going to seize this opportunity with both hands.

“Will you touch me again?” You breathe, reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his large wrist. His hand is still between your legs, though it’s gone still as he waits for you to direct him. “My- my clit, just there-”

His ears twitch, and then he shifts and pushes himself down your body. He only pauses when his head is level with your hips, and you see his nostrils flare as he scents you between your legs.

Though you had asked him to touch you, your legs twitch shut as you try to close your thighs. You want him so badly, but it’s mortifying to see him sniffing at you like that.

He clicks his tongue, and grabs at your thighs to press them open again. He’s so strong, and regardless of how gentle he’s being you don’t stand a chance at resisting him. As soon as he has your legs splayed out wide once again, his head bullies its way between your thighs and keeps you all spread open. 

You can hear him breathing you in, taking deep eager breaths as he snuffles at your cunt before leaning in closer. His breathing sounds positively desperate, as though he’s just short of hyperventilating.

“You smell sweet, tawtute,” He groans, leaning his head against the plushness of your thigh. “I did not expect this.” 

Your clit is aching so hard that it feels like your whole cunt is pulsing between your legs. Honestly, a significant part of you had expected to be manhandled and fucked within an inch of your life after he had declared his intention to please you; that’s what the men you’ve encountered before have considered pleasing you, after all. And while you’re a little terrified to think about the sheer size of the weapon he’s got between his legs, that doesn’t seem to be what Tsu’tey is planning at all.

Instead, he demonstrates an abundance of patience as he spends his time mapping out every inch of your flesh with his hands, pressing kisses all along the inside of your thighs. You shiver under the attention, shuffling a little as you spread your legs wider; your self-consciousness is forgotten in your eagerness to feel his mouth on you properly.

Finally, finally, he nips and kisses his way up to the meeting of your thighs and lays his hot, eager tongue along the heat of your cunt. His tongue is… not particularly soft. It has a rough, almost sand-papery texture, though it’s slick and wet and it feels so, so good against your swollen and over-heated flesh.

“Oh, fuck!” You wheeze, tossing your head back against the squishy moss that coats the rock beneath you. 

When you wiggle a little, trying to encourage his mouth a little higher, his hands grasp at your thighs hard to keep you still.

“Relax, demon,” He rumbles against you, mouth curving up in a sharp grin. “Be patient. You will have your pleasure.”

It’s a different sensation to anything you’ve ever felt before. It’s not the first time you’ve been eaten out, of course. You’ve had partners offer in the past, but it had never done much for you. Your last partner would only do it to get you wet, and then his focus would switch without preamble to getting his cock inside you. You had never experienced a tongue that played between your legs with such obvious relish before.

As your body goes lax against the mossy rock, Tsu’tey rumbles in delight and pulls your thighs up over his shoulders so that his head is bracketed by your plush thighs. You try not to thrash too much, to relax like he’s told you to. He makes it easier when he bars one of his arms over your hips and presses them down, keeping you from squirming.

The action alone makes you a little flustered, and the fact that you now feel like you can barely move an inch has your head swimming.

Tsu’tey continues to lave his tongue against you. It feels much rougher than a human tongue; it reminds you a little of a cat’s. The texture isn’t painful…in fact, it’s kind of mind-blowing. It creates such a glorious friction that it has you squirming despite your best intentions.

“Oh god,” You wheeze as he drags that rough tongue over your sensitive clit, hips jerking out of your control at the sensation of it. “Oh god, yes-”

Tsu’tey seems to take every breath, sigh and whimper as a cue, trying to match his movements to what makes you react the most. Your toes clench uselessly along his back where your legs are still thrown over his shoulders, leaving you entirely powerless in his hold. 

When your breath hitches, he bears down with more intent and it’s too much, too fast. You shudder as an orgasm washes over you, vision whiting out as hot static pleasure radiates from your cunt out into every extremity. The release takes you by surprise, and you can’t stop yourself from whining and moaning and writhing while Tsu’tey keeps you as still as he can, never erring in his ministrations.

He only pulls back when the last shivering aftershock races through your nerves, and even then he only pulls back far enough to press a sloppy kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“That is one.” He murmurs to himself, his chest rumbling in a loud purr. The vibrations shoot right into through your nerves, and you’re oversensitive enough that you shudder mindlessly at the feeling.

You stare wide-eyed at the ceiling of the cave, chest heaving as you catch your breath. You’re still trying to wrap your head around what’s just happened.

“Holy shit,” You breathe, craning your head up so you can look down at him. “I’ve never- I mean, no one else has ever made me come before.”

Tsu’tey is still nuzzling his wide, flat nose into your inner thigh as he takes deep breaths, clearly enjoying the smell of your arousal, but your words draw him out of his relaxed state. He blinks, then frowns up at you.

“You have wasted your time with unworthy males,” He murmurs, his brow furrowed in aggravation. “I will fix this.”

With that, he lowers his mouth to your oversensitive clit and begins to lick at you again. In the same moment, he slides a single finger inside of you. Even one of his fingers is thick, and you let out a sharp, surprised sound, your head tilting back against the cushy moss as your eyes shut tight against the onslaught of sensation as he begins to stretch you out.

You can’t believe he’s still eating your pussy. You had massively underestimated his commitment and his drive, it seems; he isn’t showing any signs of stopping anytime soon. His eyes are closed as he devotes his entire attention to burying his face into your cunt and lapping at your clit. 

It’s almost like he’s trying to smother himself in you, as though tongue-fucking you is infinitely more important than breathing. You just barely catch on to the way his hips are moving; he’s grinding his cock into the spongey moss beneath him, letting out soft grunts into your pussy as he focuses solely on making you feel good.

After that first orgasm, there is no resisting anything he does. His head is between your thighs, his tongue is on your clit. You’re convinced that you’re about to reach heaven, because nothing has ever felt this good in your life.

And then he purrs, and you lose your mind completely. It’s like having the best vibrator in the world, pressed right up into you as he licks you wet and sloppy. 

You come again, squealing. He holds your hips still, making it so you can’t escape the pure onslaught of pleasure and sensation as his tongue rolls up into you, deeper than any human has ever reached before. 

“Two.” He mumbles against your cunt, the word wetly muffled.

This orgasm doesn’t last quite as long as the first one, and soon you’re whimpering, overwhelmed. He doesn’t slow down, but his movements do turn gentle. He adds another finger; you’re wet enough from both your own arousal and from Tsu’tey’s eager mouth that the slide of the second finger is easy, though the stretch still burns a little. 

His two thick fingers roll inside you, gentle but insistent. Your face screws up as he hits the spongey sweet spot deep inside of you, the sweet heat that blooms throughout your lower belly making your toes curl.

“Tsu’tey,” You choke out, sweat breaking out across your temples as you shudder. “Oh, fuck! Oh god, please, please, please-”

The steady rumbling purr is interrupted briefly by his chuckle. Encouraged by your reactions, his fingers start to rub over your sweet spot so insistently that your breath catches in your chest and your eyes roll back.

When his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks, you let out an honest to god scream as another orgasm slams into you, sending your vision whiting out like static. Tsu’tey seems to like that, moaning happily as you writhe against his face and taking the opportunity to add another finger. 

“Three,” He mumbles to himself, so quietly you hardly hear.

You’re stuffed full and trembling like a leaf, your eyes rolled back and your mouth dropped open as you pant like a moron.

“S’too much,” You moan, your words coming out all slurred and stupid. “Fuck, fuck, Tsu’tey, too much.”

With great reluctance, Tsu’tey pulls his face away from your cunt. He looks utterly debauched. His lips are slick and swollen, drool and slick smeared all over his mouth and chin, his hair all dishevelled from your tugging at it, and a hazy, lusty look gleaming in his eyes.

Fuck, you’ve never seen him look so pleased with himself.

Despite the fact that you’re still shivering from the electric little jolts that keep shooting up your spine from your poor, oversensitive clit, you find yourself anticipating his next move. However improbable, you want more.

Tsu’tey pushes himself up, his large palms coming to rest over your hips as he leans up to lay some more hot, biting kisses against your shoulder.

“You make such lovely noises, tawtute,” He murmurs, his lips dragging over the hot skin at the base of your throat. 

You’re still wide-eyed and short of breath, but you tilt your head back eagerly and loop your arms around his neck. He’s so much bigger than you that it feels as though his entire body engulfs you as he leans over you, and it sends an excited little thrill through you.

“Holy fuck,” You wheeze, your fingers curling into his hair. “Oh my god. I’ve never… shit. I think you’ve just ruined me for human men for life.”

That seems to do wonders for his ego, because he lifts his face from your shoulder so that you can see his stupidly smug expression. His tail is wiggling in the air, a clear sign of satisfaction. God, he’s adorable.

He still hasn’t pulled his fingers out of you, and you sigh stupidly as you feel them curl languidly inside of you. Your thighs are still spread wide, trembling a little from the muscle strain as Tsu’tey settles himself between your legs.

“Tawtute males have nothing to offer.” He says, with an obvious edge of loftiness in his voice. 

You wheeze a laugh, before pushing yourself up onto your elbows so that you can peer down the length of your bodies. Though his body is pressed tight to yours, you can still see the evidence of his arousal hanging heavy between his legs. He’s so hard, and yet he hasn’t made any move to climb atop you and start hammering away at you like you’re used to. It’s a little startling to realise that you kind of want him to.

Tentatively, you reach for his cock. He groans as soon as your fingers make contact with his erection, his head dropping down to rest against your chest.

“You do not have to, demon.” He murmurs, though his voice is strained and his hips rock a little into your grip as though he can’t help it. “I will keep using my mouth until you are satisfied.”

Well, that’s certainly a very enticing offer. You had never experienced anyone use their mouth like Tsu’tey had, so eager and driven and motivated by nothing but getting you off, and you can imagine getting addicted to his mouth with ease. 

Warm fondness blooms in your chest as you look at him all crouched between your legs, brow furrowed as he watches your face. Even with your hand on his dick, he’s not pushing you for anything more. Your crush on him seems to swell, your heart fluttering in time with your pussy as you reach for him.

“Your mouth is very good,” You breathe, a grin beginning to curve your mouth up. “But…”

Tsu’tey lifts his head, his eyes narrowing as his gaze darts all over your face. It’s like he’s trying to read what you want from your expression, to guess what you’re looking for before you can say it aloud. It reminds you of earlier, when he had said that he would do whatever you wanted, so long as you told him what it was.

Your fingers tentatively coast down the length of his stiff cock in an exploratory type of touch. It’s thick, but it feels… manageable. Na’vi cocks seem to follow similar proportions to Na’vi bodies; long, but narrow. That still makes him very thick compared to a human, but it feels only a little larger than an ex-partner you once had that was especially well endowed. Granted, that sex was terrible because he didn't know how to use it, but you’re positive this will be different. This is Tsu’tey, and you’re beginning to trust him whole-heartedly with your body; he certainly seems to know what he’s doing.

“Will you fuck me?” You ask. 

Your voice comes out a little shakier than you had intended, but it's just the nerves getting the better of you. It’s a bold question to be asking, and you’re asking it of Tsu’tey; one of the scariest people you’ve ever met and the one that you’ve been crushing on for months.

He expels a sharp breath of air as though it’s been punched out of him, and his face drops down to push into the curve of your shoulder.

“Yes, tawtute,” He groans, lips dragging against your neck. “I would be very pleased to, if you are sure.”

Your grin turns anticipatory, and then you wrap your hand around his cock and give it a proper stroke. He grunts, his hold on you tightening a little as his body curves around you, his hips humping into your fist.

The sense of power that washes over you is a little startling. Tsu’tey is over nine feet tall and stacked, and yet you have him grunting and groaning as he humps his cock into your tiny fist. He’s so sweet about it too, only taking what you give him and never demanding more. Fuck, it makes you want to give him the world.

His eyes are all scrunched shut, and as your fist twists over the mushroomed head of his cock, an honest to god moan is punched out of his chest, the deepness of the sound vibrating into you beneath him. It’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your life, and your legs fall even farther apart in response to it.

Not only is his cock thick and long, but it has little raised patterns along it that seem to mimic the darker stripes across the rest of his skin. The velvety skin of his cock is also dotted with raised little nubs all over, and every time your hand strokes over them, Tsu’tey shivers a little as his ears twitch.

Apparently Na’vi males aren’t meant to be a smooth ride. You feel your clit actually pulse at the thought.

“Tsu’tey,” You gasp, your grip on his cock firming. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my fucking life.”

He lets out a breath, one that sounds like pure anticipation, before rolling off of you. 

You blink, bewildered as he shuffles himself off the rock and away from you. That is absolutely not what you wanted.

“Where are you going?” You ask, trying not to sound miffed.

“Patience, yawntutsyìp.” He says as he reaches for the loincloth he had placed aside when he had first come into the spring.

He sounds amused, which actually helps to settle you. He didn’t appear to have any intentions of leaving you here, wet and loose and ready to be fucked, which was a relief.

You watch him curiously, desperate to know just what it is that he’s looking for. He seems to be rooting around in a little leather pouch tied to his loincloth, though you can’t get a good look at what he’s searching for.

“Tsu’tey-” You start to say, but he straightens up and turns back to you before you can finish.

He moves back to you swiftly, his agility as impressive as ever as he leaps back around the mossy rock you’re all laid over. Within seconds, he’s resituated himself back between your thighs as though he never left, leaning over you and giving you an eager, anticipatory grin.

He looks genuinely excited, and you feel your stomach flip in response. Oh, you’re so fucked. Literally as well as figuratively, you hope.

“What were you-”

You’re interrupted again when he holds up a hand; clasped in it is a bottle that’s bizarrely familiar. For a long second all you can do is blink at it, bewildered.

“Where did you get lube-”

“It will make it better for you, will it not?” He asks, fumbling to snap the bottle open.

Your expression softens, mouth wobbling into a shy little smile, before reaching to open the bottle cap yourself.

“Yeah,” You murmur, watching him dribble the lube over his long, lithe blue fingers. “It will, but where did you get it?”

“I asked for it.” Is all he says, before dipping his fingers between your legs once again.

You abandon your line of questioning with a satisfied sigh, leaning your head back as he fingers you with one hand. Three of his large fingers stretch you wide as his thumb rolls over your clit, moving deftly. With his other hand, he reaches to rub some of the slick and gooey lube over his cock.

“Okay,” You breathe, your hips twitching a little as his thumb rubs smooth circles over the swollen nub of your clit. “Come on, come on, give it to me-”

He breathes a soft snort, his eyes bright and wild as he watches the way your hips move towards him. He seems to be enamoured with the fact that you’re apparently so desperate for him, and if he hadn’t worked you up so much you might be embarrassed about it.

“Patience, little demon.” He rumbles out, lowering his chest so that he’s pressed against you. “You still doubt my ability to please you?”

His chest reverberates against yours as he purrs, and you shiver in delight at the sensation. It feels as though he’s sending vibrations right down into your bones, and you arch your back as you push your breasts into him. 

“No,” You say it with a breathless laugh. “No, I trust you.”

“Good.” He hums, his teeth glinting as he grins.

When the thick head of his cock presses against your slicked entrance, you let your thighs fall open even further. When he starts to press in, all you can manage to do is shut your eyes tight and whimper. 

“Breathe, yawntutsyìp.” He whispers into your ear, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

He’s stretched you out well, and you’re loose and relaxed thanks to the orgasms he’s given you already, but he’s still big. He takes it slow and careful, but the stretch still burns and forces all the air out of your lungs. 

You take a shaky inhale as he works himself into you, somewhat stunned by the steady, inescapable pressure and the impossible feeling of fullness. Your body keeps clenching and relaxing, alternately accepting his girth and seizing up to try and force him out; Tsu’tey takes it as slow as he can manage, attempting to make it as easy for you to take him as possible.

“Oh god, oh god,” You warble, reaching up to cling onto his shoulders. 

Fuck, you feel like you’re on fire. You can’t think of the last time that you were so alight with desire. You ache, a sweet subtle hurt like a pure animal demand to be satisfied.

Your hips spasm towards him, frustrated by his slow pace, but he reaches down and snatches at your hipbones to keep you still.

“Don’t force it,” He whispers to you. You can hear the amusement in his voice, but he strokes his thumbs in circles around your hipbones to soothe you as you struggle with his size. “You can take it; just give yourself a moment.”

His grip on your hips is like steel, and you’re not sure you could move even if you tried. You’ve no option but to do as he says, and you go as still as possible.

“Fuck, your dick is big.” You wheeze, turning your face to the side and squeezing your eyes shut. You can’t quite bear to look at his face, and you’re mortified at the thought of him seeing your expression.

Tsu’tey rumbles what sounds like a chuckle, but his voice is strained again. It seems like taking it slow is a struggle for him too, no matter how cool and collected he seems to be.

It feels like it takes an eternity, but at last Tsu’tey bottoms out – he can’t fit entirely inside of you, but still you’re so stuffed full that you can hardly take a breath.

Tsu’tey has gone still too, and his own breaths are shuddering in and out of him in short bursts. It’s clear he’s in ecstasy, caught up in the tight fit of you, and he takes a moment just to breathe and collect himself as he holds you tight.

“Look at me, tawtute,” Tsu’tey grits out from between his teeth, nuzzling his flat nose along the length of your jaw. “Want to watch you.”

Once you open your eyes you have to blink several times in an attempt to focus on him. His deep blue skin is all dewy from the balmy heat of the hot springs and from a thin layer of perspiration, and the little dots of white sprinkled over his face and chest glow softly. 

Your eyes drop lower, over his wide shoulders and the well-built musculature of his chest and abdomen. Fuck, he’s so pretty.

You shift your hips just slightly, testing how he feels in you. The stretch doesn’t burn anymore, your body having adjusted to the size of him, but you still feel as though you’re being stretched to your limits. 

You bear down a little, flexing your muscles around his cock just to see his reaction. The growl it forces out of him almost takes you by surprise, especially when he rears back so that he’s sitting on his haunches.

In the same move, he uses his grip on your hips to pull you forward so that your ass is resting on top of his well-muscled thighs. It allows him to lift your hips a little, and you realise that this position gives him more control over the angle he can fuck you at.

“Are you alright?” He asks, his expression taut from the effort it’s taking not to move.

“Yes,” You breathe, arching your back so that your ass is pushed further into his lap, your shoulders pressed against the mossy rock you’re laying on. “Fuck yes.”

Finally, finally, Tsu’tey begins to move.

At first, he starts slow. His thrusts feel almost experimental. He’ll move, then adjust his angle and move again. When you feel pleasure rocket up your spine on his next thrust, you let out a gasped moan, tilting your head back and squeezing your eyes shut.

Tsu’tey gives a rumbling purr and leans forward so that he’s all hunched over you, his hands braced over your hips as he pulls you into him. He keeps that same angle as he starts to work himself up to a rhythm, his pace and strength increasing with every movement until he’s finally built up the perfect cadence.

All you can do is writhe underneath him helplessly, taking it. The mossy rock you’re laying on is smooth and slick, and you’re driven up it as he fucks you. The only source of stability you have is him, and his grip on your hips is the only thing that anchors you against his thrusts.

He’s moving with all the power and consistency of a goddamn machine. The rhythm he sets is almost hypnotic, so precise that time starts slipping away from you briefly as you’re caught in the roil of it. You count the seconds in breaths punched out of your lungs, your hands scrabbling uselessly at the wet mossy stone beneath you.

Holy fuck, you think wildly to yourself. Excellent at foreplay, good stroke game, eats pussy.

The three qualities Jake had listed as being important in human mating. Tsu’tey may not have understood the phrase when Jake had first said it, but he is nothing if not thorough and determined. It seems as though he’s making it his goal to embody those qualities as he fucks you.

As he sinks home once more in a smooth, long stroke, you think this might actually be the death of you. You can’t help the litany of moans and garbled half-words that’s pouring out of you. Everything feels so good and so hot. The humidity from the bath, the heat from Tsu’tey’s damp velvety skin where he lets some of his weight lie against you, just enough to make you feel trapped and breathless.

You’re content to just take whatever Tsu’tey deigns to give you… and blessedly, he is a benevolent and considerate partner.

His rhythm still hasn’t faltered, and it’s tearing you down to your very foundations, floor by floor. It feels like a constant assault on every button of yours he could possibly press, all of your senses being assaulted at once. Your free hand forsakes the smooth floor to latch onto Tsu’tey’s wrist, and for the first time, his hips stutter every so slightly before he falls back into that unfailing cadence.

You feel that familiar coil in your stomach tightening, and that’s when you start pleading. You aren't even asking for anything in particular, just a dozen instances of please interspersed with encouragements and hissed praises. 

You can hardly believe it’s possible, but you’re quickly rocketing toward another orgasm, and Tsu’tey’s consistent rhythm is swiftly unraveling you like a spool of yarn. Sweet, hot pressure is building between your legs, stealing your breath and blanking your mind.

You think you may be only seconds from madness when you reach up and clutch at Tsutey’s braids, gasping out a desperate, “Tsu’tey —please-!” 

It’s unintentional, but when you grab his hair you also grab his queue. You don’t pull hard or anything, but it seems as though just tugging at it lightly is enough to garner a reaction.

You had known that the neural queue is the most sacred and sensitive parts of the Na’vi body, but you’re still not expecting the low moan that’s punched from his chest, nor the way the whites of his eyes flash as his eyes roll back in his head a little from what appears to be overwhelming pleasure. That perfect rhythm of his falters for a second, his hips stuttering, but then his big hands squeeze at your ass and he devotes himself even more furiously to fucking you like a machine.

“Careful, tawtute,” He growls, his fingers flexing around the soft swell of your ass. “You can play with my kuru another time.”

His voice contains an element of promise, as though he’s excited about the idea, and it makes you grin a little in turn. You don’t tug at the long braid in your hand again, but you don’t let go of it either – his reaction was too thrilling to abandon your hold on him entirely.

He uses his grip on your hips to pull you further into his lap, lifting your hips up so that he can grind his cock into you at a better angle. The next time he ruts into you has you squealing like a moron. The swollen head of his cock hits against the spongey part inside of you with every thrust, and the little nubs and ridges along his length rub deliciously inside you every time he pulls out.

He keeps grinding against that one spot inside you that makes you feel as though you’re about to shake apart into pieces, your toes curling so hard they nearly cramp up. It’s all so intense, and every time he ruts into you it forces the air from your lungs, but you try to speak anyway, pushing the words out even as they almost catch in your throat.

 “Feels- feels good-!” You moan, one hand clutching at his shoulder as the other holds his queue. “I think I’m– oh fuck, I’m gonna come again, I’m gonna-”

“Yeah?” Tsu’tey pants, leaning forward to lay an eager kiss between your breasts. His hand wanders down from your belly to your pussy, and starts rubbing quick circles into your clit. 

You don’t know how he’s managing to maintain his dexterity, his lithe fingers working your clit and driving you higher and higher as he rubs at you while maintaining those long, smooth strokes of his hips. His breathing is heavy, interspersed with soft little pleasured grunts, but he still manages to hold his strength in place, never moving hard enough to hurt.

The combination of his cock rubbing and grinding against the soft spongey part inside of you and the messy stimulation of your clit has your legs trembling and heat growing rapidly in your belly. It feels like you’re being strung tighter and tighter as your orgasm draws closer, and your breath begins coming in rapid pants. The pressure in your abdomen feels a little different than usual, and you take it as a sign that you’re about to come really hard.

“Tsu’tey,” You choke out, mouth dropping open as your chest heaves. “Oh, fuck-”

It feels like a star exploding inside you when it starts. Your cunt spasms around him, gripping him so tight he has no choice but to slow his hips down, your body squeezing like a vice around his cock. He gives you two more solid strokes to your sweet spot before stilling completely. He lifts your hips up into his lap once more as he settles himself in you, knocking his cockhead into your g-spot and keeping it there so that he can just grind.

With that you cry out, your eyes rolling back and jaw dropping open as sweet release unfurls from your belly and washes over you in a warm wave of pure white. Your pussy grows so hot, warm and wet as the pressure in your cunt builds and crests and culminates in a veritable spray of release from you. 

You feel so overwhelmed, your back arching up in a smooth curve as you practically wail, unable to constrain yourself. You don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your life, not with your fingers nor your vibrators nor that stupid removable showerhead installed back at the human outpost, and you’re startled by the sheer flood of liquid arousal that gushes out of you around Tsu’tey’s cock.

You’ve heard of squirting before, of course, but you had always thought it was just some unrealistic thing in porn. But the way Tsu’tey’s cock is bullying its way inside of you, grinding away at that spongey spot that makes your knees shake makes it feel as though not squirting would be the bigger challenge. You writhe beneath him, clutching him tight as you shake apart on his cock. It feels like your orgasm goes on forever, your whole body shuddering around him as everything goes white and hazy.

By the time you finally start to come down from your high, you feel as though your brain has been goddamn liquefied. It feels as though you’re hearing in colour, your skin sweat-slick and hot as your muscles tremble from the sheer onslaught of sensation.

Tsu’tey is still working his hips inside of you, prolonging the lingering waves of pleasure that keep jolting down your spine. You can’t believe he’s still going, moving like a fucking machine, his thrusts still calculated and steady to break you down.

“Amazing, yuey,” He whispers to you, his voice rough and gritty. “So beautiful like this.”

The compliment is unexpected, and you wheeze a surprised breath when he lets go of your hips and leans forward so that his entire large body is caging you in against the rock beneath you. His chest presses against your own, squishing your breasts, his hands coming to plant beside your head to support his weight.

“Oh, god,” You arch away from him a little, beginning to grow overwhelmed and oversensitive from the way his cock is lighting up every damn nerve in your pussy, the way he presses you so firmly into the mossy rock. “Holy fuck, Tsu’tey, fuck-”

He buries his face into your neck, and you can feel him grin against your throat. He’s so fucking proud of himself, self-satisfaction is practically radiating off him in waves.

You remember the way he had reacted before when you had pulled on his kuru, and your fingers tighten just a little around the smooth hair protecting it. Even that minor bit of pressure has him groaning softly into your shoulder, sharp teeth scraping against your bare skin.

You adjust your grip on the glossy braid, holding it close to the skull before tugging gently. His reaction startles you – he roars, the sound reverberating through you and shaking you to your bones. His eyes roll back once more, his mouth dropping open in a look of genuine surprise as pleasure seems to blindside him.

You feel heat filling you, and realise that his cum must be spilling out of you and mixing with the slickness of your own release between your legs. His fists clench hard in the moss by your head, his loud snarl tapering off into a low moan as he keeps humping his hips into you, pace sloppy and uneven.

He’s murmuring away to you as he shivers against you, his voice low and rough as he sighs in unmistakeable delight. It’s all in Na’vi, and while your grip on his language is decent, your brain is far too fried to be translating anything right now.

“What?” You mumble tiredly, your arms looping lazily around his neck as he begins to drop his weight onto you.

His hips finally begin to roll to a stop as he grows too sensitive to continue, though he keeps his face pressed carefully into your shoulder.

“Such a sweet thing,” He murmurs to you, one hand coming to rest on your hip and squeezing you there softly. “Better than I could have imagined. Are you okay, tìyawn?”

“Mmm.” Is all you can manage, head still spinning as you struggle to regain your wits. 

Even with your thoughts all slow and soupy and stupid, you can feel the way Tsu’tey tenses all of a sudden over you. You blink, confused by his sudden change in demeanor, and look up at him to find that he has raised his head to look over at the entrance to the hot springs.

“What?” You mumble, bringing your hands from his neck to stroke down over his shoulders. The muscles shift under your fingertips, hard and defined beneath the smooth velvet of his skin. The feeling of it distracts you, and you feel your cunt flutter around his spent cock despite your exhaustion.

He grunts softly at the feeling of you trembling around him, but his attention is still focused on the cave entrance. You had forgotten, so caught up in lust and the insane novelty of Tsu’tey wanting you, that the hot springs were a public amenity that was used often among the Omaticaya.

So it shouldn’t be much of a surprise when a young man steps around the corner, already undoing the tie to his loincloth. If anything, you think you should probably be surprised that someone hadn’t walked in on you earlier.

Tsu’tey bares his teeth in a snarl, a deep growl erupting out of his chest at the sight of this newcomer. He doesn’t look familiar to you, but judging by his lack of hair ornaments and bare waist, he appears to be a young warrior in training.

“Out.” Tsu’tey snarls, his expression nothing short of dangerous.

The young Na’vi takes one look at the two of you, eyes wide and shocked, before turning on his heel and swiftly disappearing back the way he had come.

An exhausted, mildly hysterical giggle escapes you. You think you should probably be embarrassed, but you’ve just been fucked six ways to Sunday and you can’t drum up the energy to care. 

One thing has surprised you, however; you had expected Tsu’tey to be ashamed on some level. Not necessarily of being caught in a compromising position like this, but of being caught in this position with a Sky Person. He’s a prideful man and an important figure within the clan, and you know he guards his reputation carefully. But he doesn't seem embarrassed at all; just annoyed and oddly protective, considering he's lowered his body over yours to cover you from prying eyes.

“Fuck,” You sigh, digging your fingers into his chest in an attempt to catch his attention. “Is that… is that bad? That he saw?”

You’re unsure if this was meant to be kept a secret or not, but Tsu’tey just makes a face at you as though you’ve asked him a very stupid question.

“No. The village will know soon anyway.”

That is an oddly ominous statement that your fucked-out mind can’t quite make sense of, so you elect to just ignore it. 

You’re distracted anyway by the way Tsu’tey shifts above you, his cock still overwhelmingly big even as it begins to soften inside of you. You think you’d like to keep it inside you forever, filling you up and igniting that sweet ache between your thighs, but Tsu’tey has other ideas.

His hands pet soothingly down your flank as he pulls out, his chest vibrating with a calming purr when you hiss in discomfort as his cock finally leaves you. There’s a sting between your legs as a dribble of cum begins to leak out of you now that he’s no longer plugging you up, and your face scrunches up into a little grimace of discontent.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this empty in your whole life, and you find yourself clenching down on nothing as you shiver.

“Did I hurt you, oeyä vrrtep?” He wonders, his hands tracing soft and gentle patterns over your skin.

His concern warms you, and you smile tiredly at him. “Only the good kind.”

That doesn’t seem to appease him at all. A frown creases the skin of his brow, and he pulls back so that his chest is no longer pressed tight against yours. You let out a small noise of protest, but it seems that he’s too busy checking you over to hear it.

“I did not intend to hurt you at all.”

“You’re big, Tsu’tey,” You point out, pushing his hands away when he attempts to pull back and peer between your legs. “Of course it hurt a little. But I liked it. Fuck, couldn’t you tell? I squirted all over you.”

That finally seems to placate him, if only because it soothes his male pride. His expression softens, his mouth tugging into a soft, smug smile, and he leans forward to gather you into his arms.

You squeal a little as he lifts you, exhausted muscles aching as you scramble to wrap your arms around his neck. He’s so strong, and you feel your cheeks grow warm as he lifts you so effortlessly.

“Squirt.” He repeats with relish, clearly enjoying the new word he’s just learned. “Is that what you call it?”

You just snort and push your face into his chest in an attempt to hide your expression. “Don’t ever tell Jake about this.”

You can feel the gentle rumble of his laugh deep in his chest, and you close your eyes and hide a smile of your own. He has such a lovely laugh; you don’t hear it nearly often enough. 

Tsu’tey takes great pains not to jostle you as he clambers back into the pool of water with you, holding you close to his chest as the hot water envelops the two of you. It’s soothing against your aching muscles, and you hum a satisfied little sigh against Tsu’tey’s chest as he strokes his big palm down the length of your spine.

“Why not?” He wonders, though you can hear the playful smirk in his voice anyway. “I must thank him, anyway.”

“What for?”

“He has been giving me advice on human courting.”

Your brain, already slow after the many excellent orgasms he has given you, takes a very long time to process that statement. Even after the words manage to sink in, you wonder if you had heard him properly.

You straighten up in his arms, pulling your masked face away from his chest so that you can stare at him. He stares right back at you, his expression calm and earnest as though he hasn’t just completely upended all of your expectations.

“Courting.” You repeat, all of his actions beginning to rewrite themselves in your head. The careful bathing, the washing of your hair, the insistence on being a good lover by human standards. The fucking pet names that you barely understood.

Holy fuck.

“Yes.” Tsu’tey says simply. He doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re gaping at him in starry-eyed bewilderment. “I thought a human mating display would be the best place to start.”

You’re still staring at him, though your confusion is beginning to grow. “Human mating display?”

Tsu’tey just nods, using a palmful of hot water to carefully wash between your legs. When you hiss a little and try to pull away, he lets out a soft little rumble of apology.

“Jakesully tells me that displays of sexual prowess are important in human courting.” Tsu’tey murmurs, and his chest puffs out a little. “I have proved myself, have I not?”

“Oh my god.” You breathe, squeezing your eyes shut. 

That dick. Trust Jake to bend the truth in an attempt to solve your sexual frustration. You knew that he knew that you fancied Tsu’tey (he’s been forced to listen to you wax lyrical about his abs many times), but you certainly didn’t expect him to take things into his own hands like this. From showing you the hot springs to orchestrating that conversation about good lovers to telling Tsu’tey that fucking you good is a human courting custom, to the fucking lube, Jake has been planning this whole damn thing.

You don’t know whether you want to kill Jake or to send him flowers.

One of Tsu’tey’s big hands curls around your back as he holds you close, dipping down into the soothing hot water with you balanced in his lap. He’s gotten so affectionate, his flat nose nuzzling against your temple as he reaches for a yursyulang to rub over your bare back.

“I have pleased you?” He asks, lips brushing over your jaw. “More than the other tawtute?”

“Yes,” You sigh, unable to help it. “Yes, fuck. It was so good.”

The noise he makes is pure satisfaction, his arms looping tight around your waist as he holds you up in the water. 

“You accept, then?” He asks, his big honey-coloured eyes gazing at you expectantly. “My advances?”

You had thought your reactions were obvious, but still you grin. “Are you being serious?”

“I am always serious.” He says simply, as though he can’t understand the meaning of your question. 

“I thought you didn’t like Sky People.” You say, an edge of insecurity creeping into your voice. “I thought you hated us.”

“I do hate Sky People.” He grumbles, his face falling into a little scowl even as one of his large palms coast down the length of your spine. “But I do not hate you.”

It feels a little like a dream, but you can’t help the shy grin that’s growing across your face. His eyes are sharp and intense, and he watches every shift of your expression like a hawk as though he’s trying to read your thoughts right off your face.

“I will be courting you in the tradition of my People, also,” He adds, as though he’s worried you need convincing. The idea is laughable. “I have a bracelet that I have woven for you, but I wished to prove myself in the tradition of your people first.”

Oh fuck, that’s so sweet. How can such a big and terrifying man be so generous and tender?

“Jakesully has approved already,” Tsu’tey continues, his tone turning cautious. “But I need to hear your answer.”

Fucking hell, he’s already asked Jake for permission? For a moment you feel a little indignant, before you remember that your friend is Olo’eyktan now, and that Tsu’tey is probably obliged to ask his clan leader if he can pursue someone outside of his own clan, nevermind someone not even his own species.

“You really mean this.” You breathe, your grin turning a little disbelieving. “Fucking hell. Yes. Obviously the answer is yes.”

Tsu’tey’s expression is carefully controlled, but he can’t seem to stop his mouth from settling into a smug grin and his eyes from brightening in clear delight. 

“Good. This is good, tawtute.” He murmurs, reaching up to brush some of your damp hair away from your face. “I will prove to you my ability as a potential mate, yawntutsyìp. Both in my tradition and yours.”

You return his grin, biting at your lip as he returns his attention to washing you with the same careful reverence from earlier. Is it really possible that you’ve hit the jackpot like this? That all the time you’ve been looking at Tsu’tey, he’s been looking back?

Flowers, you think hazily as you shut your eyes and lean into his chest. I’m definitely sending Jake flowers.

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"DO YOU WANT TO TELL ME?"

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH BANNER

I hope you like it! 🤍😌☝

"And if we combine quark particles with gamma radiation, the result is a cocktail of subatomic particles that could implode due to a reaction in the proton molecules"

Professor Banner was saying, while the students struggled to stay awake.

Nobody liked having chemistry and genetics as their first class on a Monday morning.

Nobody, that is, except you.

Obviously, it was due to your stupid, pointless crush on the professor who taught the subject.

Dr. Banner was, without a doubt, the most knowledgeable man in the country about molecular biology.

Everyone had become obsessed with his role in the Avengers, and sometimes the classes consisted only of answering questions about Thanos and the Battle of New York.

But when people began to realize that what he was really there for was to teach about his field, the classrooms emptied out, until only those of you who truly wanted to earn your doctorate, just like him, remained.

You had never been distracted in any of his classes. It was impossible to do so since he was the one teaching them; of course, one isn't the same every day, and that day was one of those days when your mind and body were completely out of sync and couldn't coordinate at all.

"Miss Y/N," he called, bringing you back to reality, "I have a question for you."

"Sorry, Dr. Banner," you murmured suddenly, red with embarrassment, "I haven't been sleeping much lately."

"I understand," he nodded. "I was asking, what do we get if we combine a subatomic particle with one of low density?"

“Nothing,” you replied confidently. “Low-density particles would dissolve upon contact with subatomic particles because both possess solvent components,” you explained. “Therefore, both elements would disappear.”

“Correct answer,” he whispered, holding your gaze for a few moments before continuing with the class.

As you finished and gathered your things, you heard him call you and went to his desk.

“You mentioned earlier that you weren’t sleeping well,” he said. “I can help you schedule a time when your body enters REM sleep more easily, providing better rest.”

“Thank you, Dr. Banner, but my tiredness has nothing to do with physical exertion,” you murmured. “It’s just that I have so much on my mind.”

“Would you like to tell me about it?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the professor’s desk.

“I don’t want to take up any of your time.” I'm sure you're very busy…

"If it's for you, it doesn't matter how much time I lose," he replied. "Besides, time is a relative concept based on the human perception of the changing seasons; it's not really important in the grand scheme of things."

"Thanks, Dr. Banner, but I have a class right now and…"

"Of course, don't worry. We'll talk later" he smiled. "Try to go to bed earlier tonight, okay?"

"Okay, Dad" you joked as you left the classroom, making him smile.

[magicalbuttertarts]

8. Rhea Ripley x female reader

Smut Prompt List 4

Spend the night

Rhea Ripley x f/Reader (18+)

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: Smut under the cut. Oral (f receiving). Fingering.

Requested by anonymous. Sorry it has taken so long. Hope you like it.

WC: 359

©️ magicalbuttertarts 2026: do not repost or translate my work. Do not use AI on my work. This is the only place I post my work.

#8“spend the night with me”

"Rhea." I muttered against her neck. My fingers slowly trailing down her body. Soft gasps fell from her slightly parted lips.

Her hands were groping my chest, leaving her own little crescent shaped marks on my body.

Earlier, she had her face buried in my chest as she sucked and nipped on my boobs.

Leaving her own marks on my body.

I nipped her neck and her back arched. I smirked against her skin as my hand made it's way under her loose, baggy jeans.

My hand paused when I felt nothing.

I pulled my face away from her neck and before Rhea knew what happened, I was between her now spread thighs, pulling down her pants.

I tutted at her as I saw that she was bare.

I took her all in.

Her pussy seemed to be glistening as I looked at her.

My eyes trailed up her body, and I could see how flushed she was, as she bit her bottom lip.

I couldn't help myself as I leaned in, and licked one long strip up her pussy, the two of us moaning.

Her moaning as I flicked my tongue against her clit, and me at the taste of her finally on my tongue.

I couldn't help myself as I started to eat her out like I was woman who was having her last meal.

Her hands grabbed the back of my head as I inserted two fingers inside her pussy.

I started off slow, moving them in and out, testing her limits.

Rhea let out one little, "faster," and I gave her what she was wanted.

My fingers moving so damn fast that she had to bite her palm to stop herself from screaming.

"So close." She cried out, but I pulled myself completely away.

"No, please." Rhea whined.

"Spend the night with me."

Rhea looked unsure, but I kissed my way up her body.

"Spend the night with me, and I promise to not stop until I have you shaking in my bed."

Rhea agreed to spend the night, and lets just say, her body was twitching by the time I was done with her.

Tag list: @nicoleveno14 @madhatterbri @blackwingedmisanthrope @sunshinevirus

[rheaismamii]

CYBER SEX

summery: you’re a bored student who’s away from her girlfriend and suddenly you need her. luckily, she’s always there for you.

pairing: dom/older!rhea ripley x subxyounger!femreader

warnings: little bit of sexting, sex call, dirty talk, masturbation, cussing

notes: my first time writing about rhea! hope you like it!

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the quiet of the apartment was always louder when she wasn’t there. in that moment, the only sound was the clicking of your laptop keys and the occasional rustle of the pages from an anthology of nineteenth century poetry. you were sure your brain had liquefied at that point. you had been staring at the same paragraph about romanticism for forty minutes, and the words were starting to look like an alien language.

you sighed, passing a hand through your hair in despair and glancing at the corner of your laptop screen. 2:14 am.

rhea was away in another city for a match, probably just finishing up a post show workout or sitting on a cramped charter flight, and you were there, slowly losing your mind over an exam that felt like life or death, your own brain not processing the difference between that and torture. your chest ached with a hollow kind of loneliness. it was the tax you payed for loving a superstar, you supposed, but that night, the tax felt way too high.

you leaned back, letting your head drop against the sofa cushions, and closed your eyes. to keep from crying over sheer exhaustion, you forced yourself to remember how you even ended up there, in rhea ripley’s apartment, wearing one of her oversized black metal tees that smelled faintly of her expensive cologne, the only thing giving you a bit of relief in that moment.

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it still felt like a fever dream when you looked back on it. you were just a twenty four year old literature major who spent too much time watching wrestling to escape the stress of your undergrad. rhea was twenty nine, already a superstar, a force of nature dominating the ring. when a local comic-con announced she’d be doing a meet and greet with fans, you saved up for weeks just to get a ticket.

you remembered standing in that endless line, clutching a glossy photo for her to sign, your heart hammering against your ribs. you felt so small, so out of place among the sea of people in leather vests and championship belts.

then, it was your turn.

you stepped up to the table and she looked up. the sheer presence of her, her broad shoulders, the dark makeup, the piercings, that confident smirk, it almost made you forget how to speak.

“hey there," she had rumbled, her australian accent thick and smooth, “who am i making this out to?"

you stumbled through your name, your face burning hot. you managed to squeak out a compliment about her last match, your voice shaking just a little. rhea stopped writing, tilting her head, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. a soft, surprisingly gentle smile broke through her tough exterior.

"you're incredibly cute, you know that?" she said, her voice dropping a register, entirely casual about the fact that she was destroying your nervous system, “and a bit nervous. don't be scared of me, i don’t bite.”

you managed a breathless laugh, took your signed photo, and walked away on wobbly legs after thanking her repeatedly, convinced that was the peak of your existence.

well, you were damn wrong.

ten minutes later, as you were wandering near the convention exits, a massive guy in a black 'security' polo stepped into your path. your heart dropped, thinking you'd done something wrong and you started imagining all the things that could’ve possibly happened. maybe rhea didn’t like you, or you talked a bit too much and seemed too nervous and now they wanted you out. but then he just leaned down and said, "hey. rhea wants you to come backstage, follow me."

what followed was a blur of concrete hallways, catering tables, and then, a quiet dressing room where she was waiting, already stripped of the black pants and top she wore, now dressed in a baggy t-shirt with a band logo on it and some sweatpants. she spent the next hour ignoring her schedule just to talk to you.

she asked about your life, listened with genuine fascination as you ranted about your favorite books, and laughed when you admitted you were terrified of her at first when you first saw her in the ring. there was a five year age gap between you two, a massive lifestyle gap since you sure didn’t have all her experience and routine, and yet, the chemistry was so loud it was deafening. she didn't let you leave until she had your number.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌a year later, that same woman was the one who held you against her chest until you fell asleep, who made you tea and pancakes before running to the gym and who called you her clever girl whenever you aced a paper.

you couldn’t believe it, your life had changed so much, and you lived with the woman you always dreamt of during the night after looking at pictures of her for hours.

it was straight out of a movie, it you told that to yourself a year ago before that meet and greet, you would’ve laughed in your own face and called yourself delusional.

because you guys were so different, she was this strong, powerful woman who just happened to be one of the most known wrestlers in the world, while you were a normal girl, that spent her life between her part time job at the library and your studies and that didn’t even know what weightlifting looked like.

it was such a contrast that made you laugh to yourself sometimes, because who would’ve have thought to be rhea ripley’s type.

you thought her type was someone just like her, who spent time at the gym, lifting weights and throwing people around for a living, not someone as nerdy as you.

but when you actually started dating that was the first thing she had told you. she didn’t want someone with her same rhythm or lifestyle, sure she wanted someone who could understand it, but not that lived it because she didn’t wanna go home to a copy of herself.

she wanted someone who brought her peace and made her forget about the ring and the matches for sometime.

and that someone just happened to be you.

you couldn’t believe how lucky you were.

like actually after meeting her, you started to believe that the universe had finally listened to your complaints about your love life and got tired, so it finally brought you to a point where you surely couldn’t complain anymore.

because rhea kept you happy, loved, fed, spoiled and of course, fucked.

she loved making you happy, giving you gifts, cooking for you when she had time and energy even though most of the time she just ended up ordering for you and you still appreciated it. but most of all, she loved having you under her, completely desperate and at her mercy.

she loved the look in your eyes when she was deep in you, thrusting in and out so hard you couldn’t walk the next day. she loved hearing you beg for her touch, her tongue, her lips, she loved watching you cum under her, your legs trembling around her waist and your eyes rolling at the back of you head.

and you loved that just as much.

you loved watching her muscles flex when she took off her clothes quickly, ready to demolish you. you loved watching her tower over you as you knelt down in front of her, worshipping her body, kissing her thighs, and licking her abs, feeling them flex under your tongue. you loved how she dominated you, grabbed your hair, your throat and just manhandled you as she pleased.

the thought about it made your thighs press together, a known feeling on your lower abdomen spreading quickly at the thought of her.

you needed her, you wanted her there. you needed to feel her hands on your body as she kissed your neck, leaving marks on it so that everyone could see who owned you.

because one thing about rhea ripley, she was possessive and territorial over you. she didn’t play games when it came to protecting you and make it known that you were hers. she knew people had been looking at you since your relationship was made public and the thought of someone else fantasising about you made her blood boil. she wanted you all to herself and she shows you that every time she could.

you suddenly forgot about all the anxiety provoked by the exam, that feeling being replaced with a sudden need for her. you took the computer off your legs and placed it beside you on the couch, your other hand immediately grabbing your phone.

you went to her contact and sent her a message.

you: hi, mami. super tired. missing you.

you sent that text and waited for an answer, your eyes never dragging away from the screen.

soon enough, a notification popped up and you smiled.

mami🖤: missing you too baby, why aren’t you asleep? [picture attached]

you literally drooled at the picture she had sent. she looked gorgeous, breath taking, just completely ethereal. she was at the gym, wearing a black tank top, her hair up in a messy bun. she was sweaty of course, the intensity of the night training she always did when she couldn’t sleep of course had an impact on her, but that only made her hotter for you. you could see her bicep and the veins popping out on her shoulder, and you swore you could feel yourself cum on the spot.

you were flustered, that sensation you felt before getting even more intense. you let out a small sigh, your hand slipping down between your thighs but not moving yet.

you: can’t sleep. need you, mami.

you pressed your lips together, still staring at that picture and thinking about how it was going to be useful later.

but then, the text she sent you back made you realise that maybe you wouldn’t need that picture, at least not in that moment.

mami🖤: i’m going back to my hotel room soon. wait for me, baby. i need you too.

your heart beat exploded at that and you suddenly jumped up from the couch, moving fast to your bedroom, of course taking your computer with you.

you started going through your drawer and pulled out the sluttiest pair of bra and panties you had. they were both dark red and made of lace, the panties were so thin you literally couldn’t feel them on yourself and the bra was tight enough to make your breasts pop out. rhea had chosen that for you because she loved how red looked on your skin.

you decided to tease her, and sent her a picture of you sitting on the bed, one hand above your breast and lips lightly parted as you arched your back.

you: make it quick, mami.

you sent that while biting your lower lip, the excitement you felt was over the top and the thought of what was about to happen made you already wet. you knew rhea didn’t like being teased, but that only made it better because it made her rougher.

soon enough, she didn’t even text you back. your computer started ringing, an incoming video call getting your attention.

of course, you knew who it was already.

you smirked and placed it on the bed, accepting it fast. when the call started, she was sitting on the bed too, wearing that same black top and gym shorts she had in the picture, but her hair was let down this time.

she was till flushed, still sweaty from the training, but her heavy breathing looked like it was because of something else, or better someone else.

as soon as she saw you sitting there, completely innocent as if you weren’t literally almost naked infront of her, she sighed and a small sarcastic laugh came out of her.

“you’re a fucking brat, you know that, right?” her voice was deep, and she was leaning on her elbow now, her eyes going up and down your frame on her screen.

you tilted your head and faked the most innocent face you could make. “why, mami? what did i do?”

she looked at you for some time, pressing her lips together and slowly nodding at your words, clearly amused by your games. “right, you didn’t do anything wrong, is that right?”

she started sitting up, slowly removing her sweatpants, leaving herself only in a black pair of panties that made your head spin as soon as you saw them and her sport bra.

you nodded eagerly at her words, humming to confirm them as you licked your lips. your eyes traced her frame slowly, taking in her muscles, her flat and sculpted abdomen, the movement of her thighs as she sat down back on her hands, her legs spread widely infront of you.

“what? why are you staring? is something wrong?” she tiled her head, trying to hold back a smirk that tried to grow on her face. she was playing your own game, making you know that she could go along with it as long as you wanted.

but you didn’t want to play any game, you only wanted her.

“rhea…” you started mumbling, your voice soft and low, almost a whisper.

her eyebrows furrowed at that, and she stared right in your eyes with an almost offended expression. “who’s rhea?”

your eyes widened a bit that mistake. you knew she wanted you to call her mami. she loved that, it made her feel powerful and in control. she loved when you used it as a nickname in everyday life but even more when it came out in those moments. she could just get off on your voice repeating that while you moaned.

so you knew that now you had fucked up. because she didn’t accept you calling her by her name at all, it was like some sort of disrespect for her. you were hers to own and to ruin, and that title was the perfect description of that. you calling her by her name was like putting yourself on her level, which you weren’t. you were there to be under her, doing whatever she wanted you to do and obey to her like a good girl.

“s-sorry. i meant, mami, i said mami.” you rambled, clearly panicking as you sat up straighter.

rhea shook her head slowly, her eyes still narrowed as she looked at you with disappointment for lying to her. “you didn’t say that. you said rhea. so not only are you a brat, but you’re a liar too. wow.”

you whined at her words, even if she was clearly degrading and humiliating you, that tone made you feel weird inside and you felt yourself grinding against the mattress, trying to have some sort of relief for that heated sensation you had been feeling all night.

rhea’s lips parted in a shocked expression seeing your movement, a scoff leaving her mouth from the disbelief, “and you’re getting off to me calling you a liar too? you’re pathetic, such a slut for mami. say it, you’re a slut for mami.”

you nodded eagerly, your hands grabbing the strings of your panties slowly pulling them down. “i’m a slut for you, mami. please, mami, please.”

you were literally begging and on the verge of tears for her and she didn’t even do anything. hell, she wasn’t even there with you to touch you. you felt completely ashamed of that but that made you even wetter. you wanted to be humiliated by her and humiliate yourself. you wanted to feel ashamed for needed her so bad that even her voice was enough to get you off.

“please what, baby? what do you need, mh? tell mami.” her voice was sweeter now, lower, and you saw her right hand getting off the mattress and slowly going between her thighs, rubbing herself right on top of the fabric of her panties.

“j-just tell me what to do. i’m gonna do it. you know i always do what you say, mami.” your didn’t even have control over your words anymore, they were just coming out alone, your voice desperate for a command. you needed her to give you orders, that’s what you lived for.

rhea chuckled at that, loving the way you put yourself at her command, how you were so deeply and willingly submissive that she didn’t even have to force you into it. some of her exes, men and women, they all put up a fight, and she liked that too, she liked making them squirm and see them try to take control just to realise that it wasn’t possible with her, but part of her craved the feeling of someone being so needy that they didn’t even fight or fake in the first place. just that raw, genuine submission that came from respect and obedience. and when she found that in you, she loved it.

“just because you asked so nicely, i will give it to you. you can touch yourself baby, you were so good, waiting for mami to say it. so do it, touch yourself for me.” as soon as those words left her mouth, you moaned and striped down your panties.

you quickly pulled them down and threw them somewhere on the floor, not caring where they fell. then you positioned yourself with your legs spread wide infront of the screen, your hand falling down your core as you started to move your finger right above your clit.

rhea’s eyes darkened at that view, a low guttural sound escaped her throat, and she changed position too, getting rid of her own panties and sitting down on her knees, legs spread wide as her own hand went down her thighs.

“shit, baby, you look so good. keep touching yourself for me.” she moaned, throwing her head back as her hand moved faster.

you whined at her words, your face twisting into an almost painful expression as your hips bumped against your own hand. you suddenly stopped the movements, taking your hand out to lick your fingers before inserting one right inside yourself, as your thumb worked on your clit, the sounds leaving your mouth dirty and impure.

“mami… oh my god.” you moaned loudly, your mouth open as other sounds and incoherent words came out of it. you watched her place her hand on the mattress infront of her, her back arching as she kept giving herself pleasure.

when her eyes found yours on the screen, you both smiled and you bit your lower lip.

“fuck, you’re such a slut. you don’t know how much i want to be the one doing that to you.” she said panting, low growls escaping from her lips as her eyes fixed on your hand moving inside you, “i wanna fuck you so bad, you don’t even know.”

those words sent you over the edge, and your legs started trembling as your hand went faster.

“shit. fuck.” you heard her cuss as her head fell down, her hair covering her face as she kept riding her own fingers. then she looked up at you again, her tongue tracing her teeth and her piercing shining with the computer light, “i know you’re close. put another finger in baby, i know you can take it. do it for mami.”

you immediately obeyed, putting another finger inside your hole and throwing your head back against the headboard, your eyes rolling back and your mouth agape.

“that’s right. such a good girl, you take it so well. oh fuck.” she kept praising you, between moans and cusses as she worked her own way to the release. her hand went up, cupping her own breast and playing the piercing on her nipple.

you knew she loved that, she loved when your tongue swirled around it and you sucked on it like a good girl, looking up at her with big eyes like she wasn’t doing the most unholy things to you. she could cum i just by that. “shit, i’m so fucking close.”

you mimicked her, your nipple hard and sensitive enough to make yourself moan louder as you pinched it.

“that’s it right baby. come with mami, i know you can, you’re such a good girl, you can come now.” she talked you through it, her voice bringing you to your release in an instant. you let out a loud moan, literally screaming her name like she was there fucking into you.

your head was spinning, your breath was shaky and your legs were even worse. you continued to move your fingers until you were completely undone, only then you left your sensitive spot alone, your hand falling beside your limp body.

rhea came just as soon as you did, like she was only waiting for you to release yourself first until she could get her own. she was always like this, she put your pleasure first, only satisfied when she saw you trembling and crying under her.

when she came, she threw her head back, a loud groan escaping her mouth before she broke down in a series of cuss words, not even caring if someone form another room could hear her.

you both were panting, your heartbeats going faster. you watched her as she licked her fingers from her own juices before pushing her sweaty hair back with her other hand and smiling weakly at you.

you sat up, letting out a content sigh, looking at the woman who made both your heart and pussy ache with love and desire.

“was i good?” you asked tilting your head with a shy smile, like that wasn’t the millionth time she saw you naked and horny for her.

“so good, my love. you always are.”

that praise was enough to fill you with joy, and the anxiety about exams? it was long forgotten now, leaving you only with your beautiful girlfriend in mind.

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i hope you enjoyed my first fic my loves. i hope you like my writing! also, requests are open, so feel free to ask for anything you want to read! <3

[theesoulaaniarchive]

stayin' in - kwn

"change of plans, call your girls and tell 'em you ain't gonna make it tonight"

word count: 1019. cw (content warning): praise kink, pussy eating, strapon sex, top!kwn, bottom!reader synopsis: you're getting ready to go out but k has other plans.

songs that inspired this: good girl - kwn & worst behavior - kwn

a/n: omg thank you sm for 100 followers! i feel like my account grew so much in such a short amount of time. i'm so grateful 💋💋 shout out to all the people who reposted my work

enjoy. 💋 (100 followers edition)

"hurry up, mama. we're gonna be late." k said as you did your makeup in the bathroom mirror.

"relax. that club stays open all night, we have plenty of time."

after a few minutes, you came out of the bathroom. "what do we think? can we get some commotion for the dress?" k looked you up and down as you spun, biting her lip.

and suddenly, k didn't wanna go out.

"maybe we should stay in tonight."

you walked over to you & k's joint shoe rack "no way, i've been looking forward to this all week, babe." you picked up your favorite pair of heels, putting them on the floor so you could put them on.

"how did you go from rushing me to wanting to stay in after i just came out the bathroom? who are you tryna fool?" you said. k smirked; she knew you were right.

you went over to the full-body mirror to check yourself out and make sure nothing was out of place. she came up behind you, snaking her arms around your waist, her head on your shoulder.

"you sure you don't wanna stay in?" she locked eyes with you in the mirror.

"yes."

you’d barely even gotten the word out before k started making out with your neck, her embrace holding tighter. she knew that as soon as her lips or tongue touched your neck, it was over. you practically melted into her touch, your eyes closing for a moment.

she pulled back from your neck and locked eyes with you again. "what about now, huh?"

you bit your lip "maybe we should stay in."

k turned you around by your waist "i knew you'd see it my way" she said with a smirk.

you pulled her in for a passionate kiss, your hands on either side of her face. one of her hands slid up to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down your back. you helped k get her jacket off, her shirt following. her hands moved to pull your dress down, sliding it off your body.

k started walking backward toward the bed, pulling you down with her onto the bed into a kiss.

you two made out for a moment before you pulled back. "i need to text the group chat and tell them we're not gonna make it" you said, reaching over to grab your phone. k ran her hands up & down your back as you typed and sent the text.

you tossed your phone aside and continued making out. she flipped the two of you over, making you chuckle at her strength. she kissed your jawline, moving down to your neck.

k continued kissing her way down your body, leaving a hickey on your lower abdomen before pulling back. she unbuckled her belt, pulling her pants and boxers down. she moved quickly, pulling the strapon harness on, giving the straps a tug before turning her attention back to you. she pulled your panties off, throwing them across the room. she aligns herself with your entrance, sliding in. her hips start to move in slow, deep strokes, earning soft moans from you.

"oh fuck.." the words slip out as a shaky breath.

k's voice is honey-smooth "you feel that, mama?" she punctuates the question with a deeper thrust, watching your face, your brows furrowed softly. her rhythm picks up a bit—deep & steady.

one of her hands rises to rest on your stomach, applying a light pressure that amplifies the sensation tenfold. a needy sound escapes your throat. your immediately hand shoots up, wrapping around her wrist.

"k, wait-"

your words are cut off as she thrusts again, a louder moan slipping from your lips.

her expression shifts into something hungrier, pleased as she pins both your hands above your head, smirking. "i'm sorry, what was that?" she asked teasingly.

your hand moves to her stomach, pressing against her skin in a weak effort to slow her motions. k's free hand grabs both of your wrists pinning them above your head, her grip firm but not painful.

"uh-uh, don’t run." she said. "you wanna be a good girl for me, right?" she asked rhetorically "then you can take it. you got it, mama."

your walls flutter around the strap, your moans are closer together—you're getting closer.

k notices, of course she does. in response, she slows her thrusts, in speed & depth. "you can't cum yet, baby. we just got started. you can hold on a little while longer, can't you?" she cooed.

she leans down to kiss you "i know you can." k coaxed as she made a firmer press on your abdomen, making you whimper.

"you're doing so good for me."

you let out more desperate sounds as she buried herself to the hilt. she watched your face contort in pleasure as she brought her thrusts back to their regular pace—steady & deep.

"breathe."

you didn't even realized you'd gasped softly at the change of pace. you exhaled, your chest falling.

"good girl."

k pulled out, the dildo glistening with your wetness. she pulls you to the edge of the bed by your calves, kneeling. she drags her tongue up your inner thigh, making your breathing shake.

she latches onto your clit, sucking eagerly "shit.." your hand instinctively threads through her hair, your head falling even farther back against the sheets. "mmph!" you moaned as k moved her tongue up and down against your clit.

your other hand grips the sheets, mouth falling open to let your needy moans escape. you feel that yearning throb in your stomach, hips bucking against her face. heat spreads throughout your entire body as you cum—warm liquid gushing from you, your legs trembling, ecstasy etched onto your face.

k doesn't stop until you're completely spent. she pulls back, wiping her face as she comes up to kiss you, moving next to you. "you did so good, mama."

you laid there for a few seconds to catch your breath before getting on top of her. “your turn.” you said, hands already moving to pull the harness off.

[nathangardnerisdaddy]

Liquid Courage

Pairing: Bruce Banner x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bruce have been secretly dating for a year. You finally convince Bruce to come out on the town with the Avengers. The problem with that? You get drunk and a little handsy. In the best way!

Rating/Warning: 18+; explicit, graphic sexual activity (manual/oral stimulation, penetration, orgasm described in detail), unprotected, language.

Word Count: 6.9 K

The bass thrummbed through your chest as you surveyed the crowded bar, your fingers wrapped around a glass of something fruity that Natasha had insisted you try. It was your second. Or third? The pleasant buzz humming through your veins made it hard to keep count. 

“You okay?” Bruce’s voice was low, meant only for you, and the concern in those warm brown eyes made your heart flutter the way it had been doing for the past eleven months. 

Eleven months of stolen kisses in empty laboratories. Eleven months of late-night conversations that stretched until dawn. Eleven months of keeping the most wonderful secret of your life from Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. 

“I’m perfect,” you said, and you meant it. Because after months of convincing, Bruce had finally agreed to this - a night out with the team. Sure, you were still playing the part of colleagues, but you were here, in the same room, breathing the same air that smelled of spilled beer and expensive cologne. It felt like progress. 

“That’s her second drink,” Bruce murmured, though he was smiling. That soft, private smil that he reserved for you, the one that made his whole fact gentle. 

“Third,” you corrected, then giggled at his expression. “I’m fine, Dr. Banner. I’m a grown woman who can handle her alcohol.”

“Uh-huh.” His hand twitched at his side, and you knew he wanted to touch you. Tuck that strand of hair behind your ear like he always did. Pull you close. But Steve sat three feet away, deep in conversation with Sam, and Tony was holding court at the bar with a group of admirers. 

The secret was simultaneously thrilling and suffocating.

“Shots!” Tony's voice cut through the music as he appeared with a tray of small glasses willed with amber liquid. “Come on, we’re celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?” Bruce asked, eyeing the shots with suspicion.

“Does there need to be a reason? We saved the world last week. We’ll probably save it again next week. Live a little, Banner!” Tony thrust a glass into Bruce’s hand who traded it for his glass of ginger ale, then turned to you with that trademark Stark grin. “You’re not getting out of this either, lab rat number two.”

You had earned that nickname by spending so much time in Bruce’s lab. If only Tony knew why you were really there half the time - and it wasn’t always for the science, though Bruce’s explanations of quantum mechanics were surprisingly sexy when delivered in that earnest, passionate way of his. 

“To friendship!” Natasha raised her glass, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. She was the one you worried about most. Nat noticed everything. 

“To friendship,” you echoed, and knocked back the shot. 

It burned. God, it burned, but it also sent a warm wave of cinfiedence flooding through you. You caught Bruce’s eye as he raised his ginger ale in a silent toast, and you had to bite your bottom lip to keep from laughing at his expression.

He looked adorable when he was uncomfortable. 

He looked adorable all the time, actually, but especially now, with his hair slightly mussed and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You wanted to run your fingers through that hair. Trace the veins in his forearms. Kiss that spot on his neck that made him make that sound -

“Earth to Y/N,” Clint waved a hand in front of your face. “You good? You’re staring into space.”

“Just thinking,” you said quickly. Too quickly. You took a sip of your fruity drink to cover your embarrassment.

“Dangerous pastime,” Clint grinned.

“I know,” you and Bruce said simultaneously, then froze.

It was a quote from The Lion King, something you had discovered you both loved during one of those late-night conversations. You had watched it together last week, curled up on Bruce’s couch, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your shoulder. 

“Jinx,” Steve said with a laugh, oblivious to the tension. “You two spend too much time in that lab together.”

If only he knew how right he was. 

The night continued, drinks flowing freely. You tried to pace yourself, you really did, but every time you looked at Bruce - standing there in his button-down shirt, gesturing animatedly as he explained something to Thor, being his brilliant, beautiful self - you needed another drink to handle the overwhelming urge to just kiss him in front of everyone. 

“Let’s dance!” Natasha grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the small dance floor where bodies moved in a chaotic rhythm.

You glanced back at Bruce, who gave you an encouraging nod, though his eyes held a hint of concern. You flashed him a smile that you hoped conveyed I’m fine, I’ve got this, I won’t blow our cover.

But the alcohol had other ideas. 

Dancing with Natasha was fun. She was graceful even in a crowded bar, moving with the kind of control that came from years of training. You were less graceful but you didn’t care. The music was good, the lights were low, and for a moment, you could pretend this was normal. That you were just one of the team, out of a night of fun. 

Except your eyes kept finding Bruce. 

He was at the table now, nursing another ginger ale with a wedge of line, watching you with an expression that made your stomach flip. There was heat in that gaze, carefully banked but unmistakable if you knew what to look for. And you knew. You had seen that look right before he kisesd you senseless against his lab table just yesterday. 

The song changed to something slower, more sensual, and your body moved on instinct. You saw the moment Bruce’s eyes darkened, saw him shift in his seat. Even from across the room, you could feel the tension between you like a physical thing. 

“You’re going to give the poor guy a heart attack,” Natasha said in your ear, and your blod ran cold. 

“What?”

“Bruce.” She nodded toward him. “You keep looking at him like that, he’s going to spontaneously combust.”

Your heart hammered. “I don’t - I’m not -”

“Relax.” Natasha laughed, spinning you around. “I’m just saying, if you want to ask him to dance, go for it. He’s been watching you all night too.”

She didn’t know. She was just teasing. You forced a laugh. “Bruce doesn’t dance.”

“Maybe he would for the right person.”

The song ended, and you made your way back to the table on unsteady legs. The room tilted slightly, and you realized you were more than just tipsy now. You were drunk. Not sloppy drunk, but defintely past the point of making entirely rational decisions.

Bruce stood as you approached, ever the gentleman, and pulled out your chair. His hand brushed your lower back, just for a second, and it took every ounce of willpower not to lean into his touch. 

“Having fun?” he asked softly. 

“Mmhmm.” You sat down, very aware of how close he was. His thigh was inches from yours under the table. You could smell his cologne, that subtle wood scent that you associated with safety and home and love. 

Love. You loved him. You had known it for months but hadn’t said it yet, both of you dancing around the word like it might shatter the perfect bubble you had created. 

“You should drink some water,” Bruce said, sliding a glass toward you.

“You’re always taking care of me,” you murmured, and your hand found his under the table. 

His fingers intertwined with yours automatically, a reflex born from months of secret touches. Then he seemed to remember where you were and started to pull away, but you held on. 

“Y/N,” he warned quietly. 

“I miss you,” you whispered. “You’re right here and I miss you.”

His expression softened. “I know. Me too.”

“This is stupid. Why are we hiding?”

“We talked about this.” His thumb stroked across your knuckles, a soothing gesture. “You know why. The team, the complications, the -”

“The Other Guy,” you finished. It always came back to that. Bruce’s fear that the Hulk would somehow hurt you, that getting close to him was dangerous. Never mind that you had been close for almost a year and the only thing the Hulk had ever done was save your life during a mission gone wrong. 

“Hey.” You squeezed his hand. “I’m not afraid of you. Any part of you.”

“I know.” His voice was rough with emotion. “But I am.”

You wanted to kiss him. Wanted it so badly that you actually started to lean in before catching yourself. Bruce’s eyes widened slightly, and he cleared his throat, pulling his hand away as Tony returned to the table. 

“Alright, alright, who’s up for pool?” Tony gestured to the tables in the back. “I’ll take on anyone. Banner, you game?”

“I don’t really -”

“Come on, live a little! Y/N, you can be on my team. We’ll destory him.”

Being on opposite teams meant you couldn’t stand close to Bruce, but it also meant you could watch him bend over the pool table, lining up shots with the same focus he brought to his research. It was unfairly attractive. 

You were definitely drunk. 

“Your shot,” Tony prompted, and you realized you had been staring. 

You lined up your shot, missed spectacularly, and nearly stumbled. Bruce was there in an instant, his hand on your elbow, steadying you.

“Careful,” he said, and his face was so close to yours that you could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. 

“My hero,” you said, and you meant it as a joke, but it came out sincere and soft. 

His grip on your elbow tightened for just a moment. “Always,” he murmured, so quietly that only you could hear. 

Tony was oblivious, already lining up his next shot and crowing about his inevitable victory. But when you glanced to the side, you caught Natasha watching you both with a thoughtful expression. 

The game continued. You were terrible at pool on a good day, and drunk pool was a disaster. But every time you missed a shot, Bruce was there with a gentle “nice try” or “you almost had it.” And every time he made a shot, you wanted to cheer for him, to throw your arms around him and celebrate. 

You settled for a subtle smile, and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners told you he understood. 

“I need another drink,” you announced when the game ended (Tony won, naturally, and wouldn’t stop talking about it).

“Maybe you should slow down,” Bruce suggested carefully. 

“Maybe you should stop being such a worrywart.” You poked his chest, feeling bold. His very solid, warm chest. God, you wanted to touch him properly. “It’s a party, Bruce. Loosen up.”

Something flickered in his eyes. “I am loose.”

“You’re wearing a button-down shirt to a bar.”

“You like my button-down shirts.”

He was right. You did. You especially liked unbuttoning them. “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

You had lost track of the conversation. He was standing so close, and the alcohol was making everything feel warm and hazy and perfect. Your hand was on his chest still, and you could feel his heartbeat under your palm. Racing. He was as addicted as you were. 

“Y/N/.” Your name was a warning and a plea.

“I know,” you sighed, dropping your hand. “I know, I’m sorry, I just -”

“I know,” he echoed. “This is hard for me too.”

“Is it?” The words came out more vulnerable than you intended. “Beecause sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who wants to tell everyone. Like maybe you’re having second thoughts about us.”

“What? No.” He looked genuinely distressed. “God, no. Y/N, you’re -” He glanced around, making sure no one was in earshot. “You’re the best thing in my life. I just want to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection. I need you.”

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning. Bruce’s jaw clenched, and you could see him warring with himself. Finally, he said, “Let’s get some air.”

The cool night air was a shock after the warmth of the bar. You stood on the sidewalk, watching cars pass by, very aware of Bruce standing close enough that your shoulders almost touched. 

“I’m sorry,” you said after a moment. “I’m being clingy and stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. And I like when you’re clingy.” He smiled slightly. “When we’re alone, anyway.”

“This sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“I want to hold your hand.”

“I know.”

“I want to kiss you.”

“Y/N -”

“I’m not going to,” you assured him. “I’m drunk, not reckless. Well, not that reckless. But I want to. For the record.”

He was quiet for a moment, then: “For the record, I want to kiss you too. Very much.”

You turned to look at him, and the streetlight cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips. “When we get home -”

“When we get home,” he agreed, and the promise in his voice sent heat pooling in your stomach. 

“We should go back inside before someone notices we’re both gone.”

“Probably.” But neither of you moved. 

“Bruce?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

You hadn’t meant to say it. Definitely hadn’t meant to say it for the first time while drunk outside a bar. But the words were out, hanging in the air between you, and you couldn’t take them back. 

Bruce’s expression went through several emotions in rapid succession - shock, joy, fear, and finally settling on something so tender it made your chest ache. 

“I love you too,” he said quietly. “So much. I’ve wanted to tell you for months.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He glanced around, then quickly, so quickly you almost missed it, pressed a kiss to your temple. “Now let’s go back inside before I do something really stupid like kiss you properly in front of anyone who might walk by.”

You floated back into the bar, the alcohol buzz nothing compared to the high or those three words. Bruce loved you. You loved Bruce. Everything else felt manageable suddenly. 

Which is probably why you got careless. 

Back at the table, you sat closer to Bruce than was strictly necessary. Your knee pressed against his under the table. When he made a joke, you laughed and put your hand on his arm, letting it linger. 

“You two are cute,” Steve said suddenly, and your heart stopped. 

“What?” you and Bruce said in unison.

“The way you finish each other’s sentences, the inside jokes. It’s nice. Everyone should have a friend they’re that comfortable with.”

Friend. He said friend. You exhaled slowly. 

“Yeah,” Bruce said, his voice carefully neutral. “Y/N’s a great friend.”

You should have left it at that. Should have nodded and changed the subject. But the alcohol made you bold and a little bit reckless, and you were tired of hiding. 

“The best,” you agreed, and your hand found Bruce’s thigh under the table.

He went very still. You felt the muscle tense under your palm, and heard his sharp intake of breath. You should move your habd. You knew you should, but the alcohol and the love confession and the months of sneaking around made you feel invincible. 

You squeezed gently. 

Bruce’s hand clamped over yours, holding it in place. Whether to stop you from moving it higher or to keep you from pulling away, you weren’t sure. 

“So, Y/N,” Tony said, and you jumped guiltily, though your hand stayed trapped under Bruce’s. “Any interesting dating prospects? You’ve been holding out on us.”

“No one interesting,” you managed, very aware of Bruce’s hand tightening on yours.

“Really? Pretty girl like you, spending all your time in the lab? There’s got to be someone.”

“Tony,” Bruce said, his voice strained. “Leave her alone.”

“I’m just saying, maybe we should set her up. Thor, you got any Asgardian friends who might -”

“I’m not interested in being set up,” you interrupted. “I’m actually… seeing someone.”

The words were out before you could stop them. Bruce’s hand spasmed on yours.

“What?” Natasha leaned forward, interested. “Since when?”

“A while.” You were committed now, might as well keep going. “Almost a year, actually.”

“A year?” Steve looked shocked. “And you didn’t tell us?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Tony pressed. “Is he married? A villain? A married villain?”

“No, nothing like that. We just wanted to keep it private.”

“We?” Natasha’s eyes were sharp. “So it’s serious.”

“Very,” you admitted, and you felt Bruce’s thumb stroke across your knuckles under the table. A silent show of support, or maby resignation.

“Well, who is he?” Tony demanded. “Do we know him?”

This was it. The moment of truth. You could lie, make up some fake boyfriend, keep the secret going. Or you could be brave. You looked at Bruce, a question in your eyes. 

He looked terrified. But after a moment, he gave the tiniest nod. 

“You know him,” you said slowly. “Actually, you know him really well.”

“Oh my god,” Natasha said, and she was smiling. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” Clint looked confused.

“It’s Banner,” Natasha said triumphantly. “Isn’t it?”

The table went silent. Everyone turned to look at you and Bruce, who still had his hand over yours under the table. 

“Surprise?” you offered weakly. 

“I KNEW IT!” Tony jumped up, pointing at you both. “I knew something was going on! You’re always in the lab together, and you do that thing where you look at each other when you think no one’s watching, and - wait, a year? You’ve been sneaking around for a YEAR?”

“Eleven months,” Bruce corrected quietly, then seemed to realize that didn’t help. 

“This is…” Steve shook his head, smiling. “Wow. I did not see that coming.”

“I did,” Natasha said smugly. “I’ve known for months.”

“You have not,” you protested.

“Please. The way you look at him? The way he hovers whenever you’re on a mission? It was obvious.”

“If it was so obvious, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it wasn’t my secret to tell.” She raised her glass. “But I’m happy for you both.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Clint held up his hands. “So all those times you said you were working late…”

“We were working,” Bruce said. “Sometimes. Also other things.”

“Other things,” Tony repeated, grinning. “I bet. In my lab?”

“It’s not your lab, it’s the team’s lab,” you pointed out.

“Which I funded, so it’s my lab, and you’ve been -”

“Tony,” Bruce interrupted, his ears red. “Can we not?”

“Oh, we’re definitely going to. This is the best thing that’s happened all month. Bruce Banner, the man who barely talks to anyone, has been in a secret relationship for almost a year. This is incredible.”

“Why keep it secret?” Steve asked, more gently than Tony. “We're family. We would have been happy for you.”

You and Bruce exchanged a look. “It’s complicated,” Bruce said finally. “The Hulk, the team dynamics, the danger… we just wanted something that was ours for a while.”

“And I kept getting drunk and handsy, apparently,” you added, which made everyone laugh.

“You are pretty handsy right now,” Clint observed. “Where exactly is your hand, Y/N?”

You pulled your hand away from Bruce’s thigh like you had been burned. “Nowhere!”

“Uh-huh.” But Clint was grinning. “So, are you guys like… serious? Is this a real thing?”

“It’s a real thing,” Bruce said, and his hand found yours on top of the table this time, lacing your fingers together in front of everyone. “A very real thing.”

Your heart swelled. After months of hiding, of stolen moments and secret touches, he was holding your hand in front of the team. Claiming you publicly. 

“I love her,” Bruce continued, looking at you instead of them. “I’m in love with her. Have been for a long time.”

“I love him too,” you said, squeezing his hand. “So much.”

“Oh god, they’re going to be gross now, aren’t they?” Tony groaned, but he was smiling. “All couple-y and disgusting.”

“We’ve been couple-y for eleven months,” you pointed out. “You just didn’t know it.”

“Fair point.” Tony raised his glass. “Well, here’s to Banner and Y/N, the sneakiest couple in the tower. May you continue to be disgustingly in love, just… not in my lab, please.”

“Our lab,” you and Bruce corrected in unison, then laughed. 

Everyone drank to the toast, and just like that, the secret was out. The weight you had been carrying for months lifted, leaving you feeling light and giddy and maybe still a little drunk. 

“Can I kiss you now?” you whispered to Bruce. 

“In front of everyone?”

“We just told them we’re in love. I think the kissing is implied.”

“Good point.” and then Bruce Banner, the man who was always so careful, so controlled, cupped your face in his hands and kissed you in front of the entire team. 

It was soft and sweet and perfect, and when you pulled apart, everyone was cheering. 

“Finally!” Natasha called out. “Do you know how hard it’s been watching you two make eyes at each other for months?”

“You said you only knew for a couple of months,” you accused.

“I lied. I’ve known since month two. You’re not as sneaky as you think.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

"Because watching Banner try to act casual around you was the most entertaining thing in the tower." She grinned. "But I'm glad you finally told everyone. Now we can all stop pretending we don't notice."

"Wait, who else knew?" Bruce asked.

Everyone raised their hands.

"Are you kidding me?" You looked around the table in disbelief. "All of you?"

"You're not subtle when you're drunk," Clint said. "And you're drunk a lot around him."

"I am not!"

"You're drunk right now," Bruce pointed out gently. "And you've been touching me all night."

"That's different. I'm always touching you."

"Exactly," Tony said. "That's how we knew."

You buried your face in Bruce's shoulder, mortified. "We're terrible at secrets."

"The worst," he agreed, but he was smiling, his arm around your shoulders. "But I don't care anymore. I'm tired of hiding you."

You looked up at him, at this brilliant, beautiful man who loved you, who was holding you in front of everyone without fear or hesitation. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He kissed your forehead. "I want everyone to know you're mine."

"Gross," Tony said cheerfully. "But also cute. But also gross."

The night continued, but everything felt different now. Better. You could lean against Bruce without worrying about who saw. Could hold his hand, kiss his cheek, laugh at his jokes without measuring every reaction.

When you got too tired to keep your eyes open, Bruce helped you to your feet. "I'm taking her home," he announced to the table.

"Your room or her room?" Tony asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Our room," Bruce said firmly. "She moved in three months ago."

"THREE MONTHS?"

But Bruce was already guiding you toward the door, his arm secure around your waist. You heard the team's laughter and protests behind you, but you didn't care. You were too busy being happy, being in love, being free to show it.

Outside, Bruce hailed a cab, and you slumped against him in the backseat, your head on his shoulder.

"That went well," you mumbled.

"You told everyone we're in love while drunk in a bar."

"But they're happy for us."

"They are," he admitted. "I was worried about nothing."

"You worry about everything. It's one of the things I love about you."

He kissed the top of your head. "What are the other things?"

"Mmm, your brain. Your hands. Your face. The way you explain science like it's poetry. The way you make me coffee in the morning. The way you look at me like I'm the most important thing in the world."

"You are," he said simply. "The most important thing in my world."

You tilted your face up to kiss him, slow and deep, not caring that the cab driver could see.

________________________________________________________________

When you finally made it back to your shared room in the Avenger’s tower, Bruce barely got the door closed before you were on him. All the tension from the night - months of hiding, of stolen touches, of wanting him in public and not being able to have him - came flooding out in a rush of need that made your hands shake.

"Finally," you breathed against his mouth, your fingers already working at the buttons of his shirt. The fabric was soft under your fingertips, still warm from his body heat. "God, Bruce, I've wanted to do this all night."

"You're drunk," he said, but his hands were sliding up your sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the thin material of your dress. You could feel the calluses on his fingers, rough from lab work, and the contrast against your skin made you shiver.

"I'm tipsy," you corrected, popping another button free and spreading the shirt open to reveal the smooth expanse of his chest. You pressed your palm flat against his sternum, feeling his heart racing beneath your touch. "And I'm aware enough to know exactly what I want. Which is you. Now."

He groaned, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was nothing like the sweet ones you'd shared at the bar. This was hungry, desperate, months of restraint finally breaking. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting of ginger ale and something uniquely Bruce, and you melted against him. His hands roamed over your body like he was trying to memorize every curve, every dip, like he'd been starving for the freedom to touch you openly.

"I love you," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and ragged. "God, I love you so much. Do you know how hard it was watching you tonight? Wanting to touch you and not being able to?"

"Show me," you challenged, finally getting his shirt completely open. You pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and your hands explored the planes of his chest. His skin was warm and smooth, stretched over lean muscle that most people didn't realize he had under those button-downs. You traced the lines of his abs, feeling them contract under your touch, then dragged your nails lightly down his sides. "Show me how much you wanted me."

Bruce's eyes darkened to a deep brown that was almost black, his pupils blown wide with desire. Then his mouth was on your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks, his teeth scraping against your pulse point. The sensation sent electricity straight through you, pooling hot and insistent between your legs.

"You have no idea," he growled against your skin, his voice rougher than you'd ever heard it. His hands found the zipper of your dress, and he dragged it down slowly, deliberately, his knuckles brushing your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Watching you dance, watching you laugh, seeing other men look at you and knowing you were mine and not being able to claim you in front of everyone..."

The dress pooled at your feet, leaving you in just your black lace underwear—the set you'd worn specifically because you knew how much he loved it. Bruce pulled back to look at you, his gaze so heated it made your skin flush from your chest to your cheeks. His eyes traveled over every inch of you, lingering on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the lace barely covering you.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his voice reverent. "You're so fucking beautiful. I can't believe you're mine."

You reached for his belt, your fingers clumsy with alcohol and desire, fumbling with the buckle. "Less talking, more touching."

He laughed, but it was a dark, promising sound that made your core clench. "Bossy tonight."

"I've been good for eleven months. I'm done being good."

"Thank god," Bruce said, and then he was lifting you, his hands gripping your thighs as your legs wrapped around his waist. You could feel how hard he was through his pants, pressing against your center, and you ground against him shamelessly. He groaned, his fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to leave bruises. "Fuck, you're going to kill me."

He carried you to the bedroom, his mouth never leaving yours, kissing you like he needed it to breathe. When he reached the bed, he laid you down gently despite the urgency thrumming between you, and took his time removing the rest of his clothes. You watched, propped up on your elbows, as he revealed himself to you.

You'd seen him naked countless times, but it never got old. The lean muscle of his arms and chest, the V of his hips disappearing into his boxer briefs, the careful strength in every movement. When he finally pushed his underwear down, freeing his cock, you bit your lip at the sight. He was already hard, flushed and thick, and you wanted him so badly you ached with it.

"Come here," you demanded, reaching for him with both hands.

Bruce crawled over you, settling between your thighs, and the weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, the smell of his cologne mixed with sweat and arousal, made you moan. You could feel every point of contact - his chest against your breasts, his hips cradling yours, his cock pressing hot and hard against your stomach.

"I love that sound," he murmured, his mouth trailing down your neck, over your collarbone. He kissed and licked and bit, marking a path across your skin. "Love all the sounds you make for me. Love that I can finally hear them without you having to muffle them."

His hands slid behind your back, unclasping your bra with practiced ease. He pulled it away slowly, his eyes fixed on your breasts as they were revealed. Then he immediately took one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak, and the wet heat of it made you arch off the bed.

"Bruce," you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair. The curls were soft between your fingers, and you tugged gently, making him groan against your breast. "Please."

"Please what?" He switched to your other breast, his teeth grazing the nipple before soothing it with his tongue. His hand kneaded the one he'd abandoned, his thumb circling the wet peak. "Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it."

"You. Inside me. Now." Your voice was breathy, desperate. "I need you, Bruce. Need to feel you."

"So impatient." But his hand was already sliding down your stomach, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that made you shiver. He slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, and when his fingers found you wet and ready, he groaned low in his throat. "God, you're soaked. Is this all for me?"

"Your fault," you managed, rocking against his hand, seeking more friction. "Been thinking about this all night. About your hands on me, your mouth, your cock inside me."

He circled your clit with his thumb, the pressure perfect, and slid two fingers inside you. You cried out at the sensation, at the stretch and fullness, at the way he immediately curled them to find that spot inside you that made your vision blur.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice rough with desire. He watched your face as he worked you, his eyes dark and intense. "Let me hear you. No more being quiet, no more hiding. I want to hear everything."

You were already close, wound tight from hours of wanting him, from the alcohol lowering your inhibitions, from the freedom of finally being able to have him without fear. His fingers moved inside you with practiced precision, stroking that perfect spot while his thumb circled your clit in maddening circles. The dual sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building at the base of your spine.

"Bruce," you whimpered, your hips moving in rhythm with his hand. "I'm close, I'm so close."

"I know, baby. I can feel you tightening around my fingers." He leaned down to kiss you, deep and filthy, his tongue mimicking the movement of his fingers. "Come for me. Want to feel you fall apart on my hand before I fuck you."

His words, the rough command in his voice, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you in waves, your body clenching around his fingers as you cried out his name. He worked you through it, his movements gentling as you came down, pressing soft kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your temple.

"Beautiful," Bruce murmured, slowly withdrawing his fingers. He brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean, his eyes locked on yours, and the sight was so erotic you felt a fresh wave of arousal. "So beautiful when you come for me. And you taste incredible."

Before you could catch your breath, he was hooking his fingers in your panties and pulling them down your legs. The lace dragged against your sensitive skin, making you shiver. He tossed them aside and settled himself between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, hot and hard, and you both groaned at the contact.

"I love you," he said, his eyes locked on yours. There was so much emotion in his gaze—love, desire, wonder, gratitude. "I love you so much. You're everything to me."

"I love you too," you whispered, reaching up to cup his face. His stubble was rough against your palm, and you stroked your thumb across his cheekbone. "Now please, Bruce, I need you inside me. Need to feel you."

He pushed inside in one smooth thrust, filling you completely, and the feeling was so perfect you could have cried. This. This was what you'd been craving all night. Not just the physical connection, but the intimacy, the vulnerability, the way he looked at you like you were his entire world. He stretched you perfectly, the slight burn giving way to pleasure as your body adjusted to him.

"Okay?" he asked, holding perfectly still despite the tension in his body. You could see the effort it took, the way his muscles trembled with restraint. "You feel so good, so tight around me. Need to know you're okay."

"Perfect," you breathed, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him even deeper. The angle made you both gasp. "You're perfect. Move, please move. I need you to move."

Bruce pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, and you whimpered at the loss. Then he thrust back in, deep and hard, and set a rhythm that had you clutching at his shoulders. He wasn't gentle - you didn't want gentle right now - but every movement was controlled, purposeful, designed to make you feel every inch of him. The drag of his cock against your walls, the way he hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress - it was overwhelming in the best way.

"Missed this," he groaned, his face buried in your neck. You could feel his breath hot against your skin, could feel the vibration of his voice. "Missed you. Even though I see you every day, I missed being able to have you like this without worrying about someone hearing, someone finding out. Missed being able to make you scream."

"No more hiding," you gasped, your nails dragging down his back. You could feel the muscles moving under his skin, could feel the sweat starting to slick his body. "Everyone knows. You're mine and I'm yours and everyone knows."

"Mine," he agreed, his thrusts getting harder, faster, more desperate. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mixed with your moans and his groans. "All mine. Say it again. Need to hear you say it."

"Yours," you moaned, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Always yours, Bruce. Only yours. No one else has ever made me feel like this."

His hand slid between your bodies, finding your clit again. The bundle of nerves was swollen and sensitive, and when he circled it with his fingers, the dual sensation of his cock filling you and his fingers on your clit was almost too much. Pleasure built inside you, coiling tighter and tighter, threatening to snap.

"Come for me again," he commanded, his voice strained. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto your chest, and you could see the tension in his jaw, the way he was holding back his own release. "Want to feel you come around my cock. Want to feel you fall apart. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you come for me again?"

"Bruce," you whimpered, so close you could barely breathe. Every nerve ending was on fire, every sensation amplified. "I'm - oh god, I'm -"

"That's it, baby. Let go. I've got you. Always got you."

You shattered, your second orgasm even more intense than the first. It rolled through you in waves, your body clenching rhythmically around him as you cried out his name. Your vision went white at the edges, pleasure so intense it was almost painful. You clung to him, your anchor in the storm, and distantly you heard him groan as your body clenched around him.

"Fuck," he gasped, his rhythm faltering. "You feel so good. So perfect. The way you squeeze me when you come - I can't - I'm -"

"Come for me," you urged, still trembling from your own release. You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, wanting to feel him lose control. "Want to feel you. Want to feel you come inside me. Please, Bruce. Need it."

He thrust deep one last time, burying himself to the hilt, and came with a low moan of your name. You felt him pulse inside you, felt the warmth of his release, and the intimacy of it made your eyes sting with tears. His body shuddered above you, his arms trembling as he held himself up. You held him through it, your hands stroking his back, his hair, murmuring words of love against his temple.

When he finally stilled, he carefully pulled out - both of you gasping at the sensitivity - and rolled to the side. He immediately gathered you against his chest, and you went willingly, boneless and satisfied. You pressed your ear over his heart, listening to it gradually slow, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing evened out. His skin was warm and slightly damp with sweat, and you could smell the musk of sex and his cologne and something uniquely him.

"That was..." you started, but couldn't find the words. Your mind was pleasantly fuzzy, your body humming with satisfaction.

"Yeah," he agreed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your shoulder, down your arm, across your hip. "That was."

You were quiet for a moment, just breathing together, coming down from the high. Then you started giggling.

"What?" Bruce asked, tilting your face up to look at him.

"We just had sex as an openly acknowledged couple for the first time. No more sneaking around, no more being quiet, no more worrying about someone walking in."

He smiled, that soft, private smile that was just for you. "Freedom sex. That should be a thing."

"It is now." You kissed him, slow and sweet. "I love you. I love that everyone knows I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured. "My beautiful, reckless, wonderful girl. Thank you for being brave enough to tell them. I should have done it months ago."

"We did it together," you said, already feeling sleep pulling at you. The alcohol, the emotional release, the physical satisfaction—it was all catching up to you. "That's what matters."

Bruce pulled the blanket over you both, tucking you securely against his side. "Sleep," he said softly. "I'll be here when you wake up. And tomorrow, and every day after."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

You fell asleep wrapped in his arms, thinking that maybe liquid courage wasn't such a bad thing after all. It had given you the push you needed to stop hiding, to claim your love in front of everyone.

And tomorrow, when you were sober and probably hungover, you'd wake up next to the man you loved without having to sneak out before dawn. You'd have coffee together in the kitchen without worrying about who might see. You'd hold his hand in the hallways of the tower.

Tomorrow, and every day after, you'd get to love Bruce Banner openly.

But tonight, satisfied and happy and finally free, you just held him close and smiled into the darkness.

"Love you," you whispered, already half-asleep.

"Love you too," he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your hair. "Always."

And really, that was all that mattered.

________________________________________________________________

The next morning, you woke to seventeen text messages in the team group chat (when had they added Bruce to the group chat?) with the subject line "BANNER AND Y/N SITTING IN A TREE."

You groaned and showed your phone to Bruce, who laughed and pulled you closer.

"Worth it?" he asked.

You kissed him, morning breath and all. "Completely worth it."

From the group chat, a new message from Tony: "Get a room!"

Bruce typed back: "We have a room. We've had a room for three months. Keep up, Stark."

You laughed into his chest, thinking that yes, this was definitely worth it. All of it. The secret, the reveal, the teasing you'd endure for months.

Because you had Bruce, and he had you, and everyone knew it.

Finally.

[thebluediner]

can you write kwn smut, i just know she talks you through it !!!!!



TALK YOU TRHOUGH IT

you barely made it pass the people on the dance floor with kwn's grip on your hand pulling you towards the nearest door, the restrooom, before she shoves you into the first empty stall locking it behind her.

you stumbled in your heels clicking on the floor but before you could even question her she was already pouncing on you. her mouth was quick to attack you like you owed her something and your legs had already gone shaky.

you barely had time to register the cool material of the stall before she pressed you on it her hand slipping under your shirt like it belonged there, like it always had.

“can’t even look at me, huh?” she murmured, voice low, rough, teasing. her breath was hot against your cheek as her fingers brushed your waistband.

“so sensitive already. poor baby.” you whimpered, hips jolting forward like your body was acting on its own. then you moaned, sharp and unexpected when she dragged her tongue on your neck before sucking.

she grinned like your noises made her proud and you saw it and god, that grin and you hated how it made you throb so easily. her fingers dipped lower, slow, torturous, like she had all the time in the world and all she wanted was to watch you squirm.

your hands shot to her jacket trying to anchor yourself. you could feel it all to well her fingers teasing you and her cold rings pressing against you.

your eyes shut while you released a deep breath trying to compose yourself.

''you gonna cry already?'' she whispered, lips ghosting over your jaw teasing wanting a reaction. you shake your head sucking in your bottom lip in restraint.

''I haven’t even touched you properly'' that's what she says but her fingers swimming in you say something else as she pushes one in.

''oh my god, please'' you gasp, breathy, desperate and she only just started. it was pathetic, how your body betrayed you like this every nerve lit up, every thought drowned there was only her.

''look at me '' her voice sharpened, commanding. your eyes fluttered open glassy, dazed and met hers.

''there you are'' kwn smiled slow and sinful. then she slipped another finger into you and your whole so needy so wet swallowed her in making her breathless.

your knees buckled but she caught you easily, crowding in until your spine arched and your head tipped back. you were breathing like you’d run miles.

''baby please '' your voice is soft pleading with her a tear slipping down your face. you're so easy for her and she loves it every single time.

“shhh, I got you princess I'm not going to torture just wanna make you feel good yeah” she crooned, like you were breakable, like she was the only one who knew how to handle you. and then her fingers were there moving into you slow at first , her thumb rubbing slow circles on your sensitive clit making your thighs quake.

she knew exactly what she was doing. she was watching you, watching every twitch, every helpless moan coming out your glossy lips.her other hand came up to hold your chin, forcing you to look at her directly.

''so pretty baby. you're driving me crazy'' her tone soft just for you her baby that she could please however she wanted.

you whined pulling her in closer by her jacket and somehow that turned her on even more she increased her pace just to draw another moan out of you.

''that’s it'' she breathed, lips at your ear. ''such a good girl, taking it so well. look how pretty you are like this, fuck''

your whole body jolted as her fingers slid in deep and unrelenting, curling just right. your back arched off the wall. you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe

''k-'' your voice broke around her name. you were already close and she wasn't even giving it her all it was embarrassing, at least to you because kwn was loving every second of this.

''you gonna come already? just from my fingers?'' she laughed softly, fingers picking up the pace making unforgivable, pornographic squelching sounds.

''god, you were made for this, weren’t you? just a pretty little thing, soaking for me you're so lucky I can't give you children'' you moaned, shaking, your thighs clenching around her wrist.

she was relentless. talking you through it, whispering filthy warnings of what she'll do when you get back home in your ear while you sobbed and trembled. when it hit, it hit like lightning white-hot and shattering.

you came with a cry, eyes rolling back, legs giving out entirely. you felt like you were floating, untethered, the world hazy and far away. kwn held you the whole time.

''you're all mine'' she murmured against your temple, guiding you gently down onto her lap as you shook through the aftershocks.

''that’s what you are. sweet, fucked-out mess'' you let your head fall onto her shoulder, still gasping, still dazed.

she kissed your cheek, your ear, the side of your neck

''still with me?'' you nodded weakly

''good'' she said, voice low and smug. ''because I’m not nearly done with you yet''

wow well I'm soaked!

[darkseidex]

KINKTOBER DAY 3

KWN: Possession + praise. In which sometimes love needs to be felt. AN: girl idek what kwn's actual name is -- I know it's K Wilson, so I decided to call her Wilson in this!!

@mamasturn @unicoo @indecisive-toomanyfandoms @iceyyycapsicle @hillesem @that-one-anxious-mango

“Babe, I don’t know why you’re gettin’ so cr—”

“Finish that sentence and I swear I’m gonna leave and you’ll never hear from me again, Wilson. I swear to God.”

Delilah’s voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp and trembling with heat, her words coiled tight as a whip. She didn’t shout—she didn’t need to. The venom in her tone was enough to still the air between them, enough to make Wilson’s jaw flex as though she’d been struck.

Delilah’s hands moved with clipped precision as she spoke, crossing her arms in front of her chest with all the stubborn defiance of someone refusing to bend, her rings glinting under the dim light as her fingers tugged impatiently at her hairpins. Each metallic snap echoed like punctuation marks to her fury, the long coils of her hair springing loose one by one as if even her body was rejecting the neatness, the composure she’d been forced into all evening.

Her hoops came next, sliding from her ears with a practiced twist, her lips pursed, her expression set into a deep frown that carved her cheekbones into sharp planes. She set them down on the dresser one by one, gold against wood, the sound far too loud in the suffocating silence of the room.

Wilson moved closer, slow and deliberate, her presence filling the small gap between them. She bent low, her mouth brushing against Delilah’s ear, her voice dipping to a low whisper that carried the weight of smoke and gravel.

“It’s just business,” she murmured, soft enough to make Delilah’s chest tighten and her teeth clench. “You know that.”

Delilah’s glare was immediate, her eyes snapping toward her with fire, and she pressed her palms lightly against Wilson’s chest, shoving her back just enough to reclaim her space. It wasn’t rough, but it was firm, a reminder that love didn’t erase boundaries, that no amount of whispered promises could smooth over the raw wound of betrayal—perceived or otherwise.

“You know you’re my girl,” Wilson said then, the edge of frustration softened by the slow drag of sincerity that undercut her words. Her hand rose, hesitant, before finding Delilah’s chin, tilting it up just enough to force their eyes to lock. The weight of her gaze was heavy, steady, a quiet kind of pleading threaded through the stubborn set of her jaw.

“Always have been,” she added, her voice lower now, almost reverent, as if saying it too loud would shatter the fragile moment. Her thumb brushed across Delilah’s bottom lip with a tenderness that betrayed the steel in her frame, the possessiveness that lived in her bones. “Always will be.”

Delilah’s breath hitched despite herself, her chest rising and falling in uneven swells, caught between the urge to resist and the ache that Wilson’s words always left behind. The golden hoops glinted on the dresser, forgotten, but the mark of the moment lingered heavy in the air—love edged with fury, devotion stitched with pride, a battle neither of them wanted to lose but both were desperate to win.

Delilah’s glare didn’t falter, not even as Wilson’s thumb traced the edge of her lip, not even when the whisper of those words—always have been, always will be—settled into her chest like an iron weight. She held her chin high, her arms still crossed in front of her as if she could barricade herself against the heat building between them.

The room smelled of cocoa butter and perfume, their mingled scents clinging to the curtains and the sheets, the air dense and humid with the aftermath of their argument. Wilson stood tall in front of her, male-presenting but softened by the glow of lamplight; the sharp line of her jaw shadowed, her broad shoulders carrying more than she ever said aloud. She looked like a storm trying to contain itself—steady, unyielding, but with lightning simmering just beneath her skin.

Delilah’s hoops lay glinting on the dresser, her hair loose and wild now, coils spilling down around her shoulders as if she were shaking off the careful perfection she’d been forced into earlier. She rubbed absently at the indentations left behind by her earrings, her jaw tightening, her lips pressing thin.

“Don’t sweet-talk me like I don’t know better,” she said finally, her voice quieter now but no less sharp. Her eyes narrowed, searching Wilson’s face for cracks, for any sign that the words were just another performance. “You say it’s business, but it feels like a knife every time you come home smelling like someone else’s world.”

Wilson exhaled slow through her nose, her hand falling from Delilah’s face to rest heavy on her waist instead, fingers splayed wide as if staking claim without needing to say the word. She didn’t argue, not yet—just let the silence stretch, her thumb stroking absent patterns into the thin fabric of Delilah’s slip.

“You think I’d risk us?” Wilson asked at last, her tone careful, controlled, though the vein in her neck pulsed with restraint. “You think I’d ever let business bleed into what we got?”

Delilah didn’t answer right away. She turned her head, eyes darting toward the window where the city pulsed in neon and headlights below, her reflection faint in the glass—a woman wound tight, tired of compromise, tired of wondering if love was strong enough to hold its shape against the world outside.

Wilson stepped closer, erasing the little space Delilah had made, her chest brushing against her crossed arms. “I don’t need business,” she said, voice roughened by truth. “I need you.” Her lips ghosted over Delilah’s temple but didn’t land, her restraint deliberate, punishing. “You’re mine, Dee. And I’m yours. That’s the only thing I’m sure of when everything else goes to hell.”

Delilah swallowed hard, her throat working as her defenses faltered. The heat of Wilson’s body seeped into hers, steady and grounding, and though her arms remained folded, her fingers curled tighter, betraying the tremor that threatened to undo her.

“You don’t get to say that like it’s simple,” Delilah whispered back, her voice softer now, frayed at the edges. “Like being yours doesn’t mean carrying the weight of everything you drag in with you.”

Wilson’s jaw flexed, her eyes flashing with something raw, but she didn’t press. She just nodded once, slow, her hand squeezing at Delilah’s waist like a vow.

“Then let me carry it with you,” she said. “Let me show you I mean it.”

The words hung heavy between them, not a promise but a plea, not possession yet but the precursor to it. And Delilah—still glaring, still unbent—felt her heartbeat stumble at the thought of letting herself believe her.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their breathing—Delilah’s shallow, uneven, Wilson’s low and steady like she was holding herself together by force. The weight of the silence pressed down on them, every second stretching tauter, every glance another spark threatening to ignite the air.

Delilah’s arms stayed crossed, her body angled away in defiance, but her eyes betrayed her. They lingered on Wilson’s mouth for half a beat too long, flicked down to her chest rising and falling with restrained control, then darted back up as if she could erase the slip. Wilson caught it, of course she did—she always did—and the corner of her mouth twitched into the faintest, cockiest smirk.

“You don’t want me to touch you,” Wilson murmured, her voice low, dark, like gravel dragged across velvet. Her hand still rested heavy on Delilah’s waist, heat radiating through thin fabric, fingers flexing as though they were barely restrained from pulling her closer. “But the way you’re looking at me says different.”

Delilah’s jaw tightened, her lips parting to snap back, but nothing came. Because she knew it was true. Because her body had already betrayed her, leaning infinitesimally into Wilson’s warmth even as her arms remained crossed in stubborn armor.

Wilson’s smirk softened then, her eyes narrowing with something less smug and more raw. Slowly, deliberately, she lifted her free hand, letting her knuckles graze the edge of Delilah’s jaw. The touch was feather-light, careful, almost reverent.

“Let me fix this,” she whispered. “Just this once. Let me remind you who you are to me.”

Delilah’s breath hitched. She should’ve shoved her away, should’ve stepped back, should’ve reinforced every wall she had so carefully built—but when Wilson leaned in, slow and patient, brushing her lips barely against hers, she couldn’t move. She was caught, suspended in the gravity of it, her eyes fluttering closed as her chest pressed forward despite herself.

The first kiss was nothing more than a ghost—soft, hesitant, like Wilson was testing if she’d be allowed this mercy. Delilah let out the faintest sigh, and that was all it took.

Wilson’s control cracked like thunder.

The second kiss was firmer, hungrier, Wilson’s hand sliding from her jaw into her hair, tugging her head back just enough to deepen the angle. Her mouth moved against Delilah’s with practiced urgency, teeth grazing her lower lip, tongue sweeping past the seam until Delilah gasped. The sound broke whatever resolve she had left, and her arms fell from her chest, her hands finding Wilson’s shoulders and gripping tight.

Delilah tried, weakly, to push her away—half protest, half surrender—but Wilson’s hand at her waist slid around to her lower back, hauling her flush against her body, swallowing the resistance whole.

“See?” Wilson rasped against her lips between kisses, her breath hot and uneven. “You can fight me all night, but the second I touch you—” her teeth caught her bottom lip, tugging—“you remember. You remember you’re mine.”

Delilah moaned, the sound muffled into Wilson’s mouth, and her nails dug into her shoulders instead of pushing her away. The kiss turned sloppy, desperate, all the fury melting into fire, all the fight transmuted into the ache of needing and being needed.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, foreheads pressed together, Delilah’s voice trembled in the smallest whisper:

“Always have been, huh?”

Wilson’s answering smile was sharp and certain, her thumb brushing over Delilah’s swollen mouth. “Always will be.”

And for the first time that night, Delilah didn’t argue.

Wilson didn’t give Delilah a chance to rebuild her defenses. The second she saw that tiny crack—the way her lips stayed parted, the way her nails dug into her shoulders instead of pushing her off—she pushed forward, claiming the space between them fully.

Her mouth crashed back onto Delilah’s, this time with no hesitation, no patience, just raw hunger. The kiss was hot, messy, consuming—teeth and tongue and low groans swallowed against lips that had spent too long spitting fire instead of sighing into her mouth.

Wilson’s hands moved like she was mapping out a country she’d already conquered but couldn’t stop revisiting. One slid down to cup the back of Delilah’s thigh, hitching her leg up against her hip so their bodies aligned perfectly; the other tangled in her loosened hair, tugging just enough to make Delilah whimper.

“Fuck, baby…” Wilson rasped against her lips, her voice rough, ragged, each word soaked in reverence and filth all at once. “You don’t even know how bad I need you. How bad I always need you. You’re mine, Dee. My girl. My only girl.”

Delilah gasped as Wilson’s mouth left hers only to trail down her neck, biting and sucking marks into the delicate skin until purple blooms blossomed across her throat. She tilted her head despite herself, giving her more space, and Wilson growled in satisfaction.

“That’s it. That’s my good girl,” she whispered hot against her pulse, her teeth scraping. “Let me mark you up. Let me show the whole world who you belong to.”

Delilah’s breath stuttered, a shiver running down her spine as she clutched at Wilson’s shirt, tugging it up over her head in a rush. The sight of Wilson bare-chested above her made her mouth go dry—tattoos cutting sharp across muscle, the kind of body that looked carved from want and survival. Male-presenting, but softened in this light, Wilson looked every bit the contradiction Delilah adored and resented—sharp enough to wound, tender enough to ruin her.

Wilson pressed her down onto the bed, hovering over her, her gaze searing. Her palm flattened against Delilah’s stomach, then slid upward, cupping her breast through the thin slip she still wore. Her thumb rolled over a nipple until Delilah arched into her hand, a helpless moan spilling from her lips.

“Goddamn,” Wilson groaned, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe her own luck. “Look at you. You’re perfect for me, Dee. You hear me? Perfect. Nobody else gets to touch you like this. Nobody else gets to hear you sound like this.”

Delilah’s eyes fluttered, her lip caught between her teeth as Wilson’s hand slipped lower, under the slip, her fingers dragging down the line of her stomach until they pressed between her thighs. She was already wet, slick and wanting, and Wilson groaned low in her throat, pressing two fingers inside with steady, claiming pressure.

Delilah cried out, her head falling back against the pillow, and Wilson kissed her jaw, her temple, her ear, whispering filth and worship into her skin with every thrust of her hand.

“That’s it, baby girl. Take me. Take everything I give you. You’re so fucking good for me, opening up like this. You know why? Because you’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

Delilah bucked against her hand, moaning brokenly, nails clawing at Wilson’s back, and Wilson only fucked her fingers deeper, curling them just right, her thumb circling her clit until Delilah was sobbing with it.

“Say it,” Wilson demanded, her voice dark velvet, her mouth at Delilah’s ear. “Say you’re mine. Louder. I want to hear you.”

“I’m yours!” Delilah gasped, her body arching violently as her orgasm ripped through her, shaking her to pieces beneath Wilson’s weight. “I’m yours, Wilson—always yours—”

Wilson groaned, fucking her through it, watching her body writhe and break apart under her hand. She kissed her hard again, swallowing her cries, and when Delilah finally slumped boneless against the sheets, Wilson slowed, pulling her fingers free only to slide them up and press them against Delilah’s lips.

“Open,” she whispered. Delilah obeyed, sucking them in, tasting herself, her eyes hazy as they locked with Wilson’s.

“That’s my girl,” Wilson murmured, her voice a reverent growl, her other hand stroking her cheek with unexpected gentleness. “Always have been. Always will be.”

And Delilah, lips wrapped around Wilson’s fingers, cheeks flushed, heart thundering, knew she believed her this time.

Delilah was still trembling when Wilson pulled her fingers from her mouth, slick with her own taste, her chest rising and falling like she’d run a marathon. She should’ve been spent—but Wilson wasn’t finished, not when the sight of Delilah undone like that had her cock straining beneath the harness she’d strapped on earlier, just in case the night went this way.

Wilson stood, pulling her shirt all the way off, revealing the black leather strap-on secured low against her hips, the silicone cock thick and glistening with the faint sheen of lube. The sight of it made Delilah’s stomach clench, her thighs pressing together instinctively, but Wilson only grinned, cocky and hungry, dragging her palm down the length of it.

“Eyes here, baby,” she said, her voice low, commanding. She gave her cock a slow stroke, the veins catching the light. “This is yours. All yours. You see it? You feel it? That’s me. That’s how I own you.”

Delilah whimpered, her lips parting, and Wilson chuckled, crawling back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. She spread Delilah’s legs with steady hands, prying her open until she lay there flushed and glistening, every inch of her saying she belonged right where she was—under Wilson.

“You’re dripping for me,” Wilson groaned, dragging the blunt head of the strap through her folds, smearing her wetness across it. “Goddamn, baby girl. You make it too easy. You want me to fuck you, huh? Want me to fill you up till you can’t take anymore?”

“Yes,” Delilah gasped, her voice breaking. “Please, Wilson—I need it.”

Wilson’s eyes darkened, her grin sharp. “That’s my good girl. Begging so pretty for me.”

And then she pushed in.

Slow at first, deliberate, watching the way Delilah’s face twisted with pleasure at the stretch. Inch by inch until she bottomed out, buried to the hilt, her hips flush against Delilah’s thighs. Delilah cried out, nails clawing at the sheets, her back arching.

“Fuck,” Wilson growled, holding still, savoring the sight of her stretched wide around her cock. “Look at you, Dee. Taking all of me. You’re so goddamn tight, I swear you were made for this. Made for me.”

She pulled back only to slam forward again, her thrusts sharp and punishing, making Delilah’s body jolt with every movement. The sound of skin slapping filled the room, filthy and raw, mixed with Delilah’s broken cries.

“That’s it,” Wilson panted, her hand sliding up to grip Delilah’s throat, her thumb stroking her jaw even as she held her there. “You’re mine. Say it again.”

“I’m yours!” Delilah sobbed, her voice cracking as Wilson drove into her deeper, harder, the strap hitting her sweet spot over and over. “Yours, Wilson, only yours!”

Wilson groaned, lowering her mouth to her ear, whispering filth between ragged breaths:

“Good girl—my perfect girl. Look at you, cock-drunk on me. Nobody else can fuck you like this. Nobody else gets this side of you. You belong to me, body and soul.”

Delilah’s climax hit hard, violent, her whole body seizing around the strap as her screams filled the room. Wilson didn’t stop—she fucked her through it, relentless, praising her all the way:

“That’s it—cum for me. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are. Show me who owns this pussy.”

Delilah’s nails dug into Wilson’s back, her voice raw from crying out, her body shaking beneath her. When she finally collapsed, spent and trembling, Wilson slowed, her thrusts turning into deep, lazy rolls as she leaned down to kiss her lips, soft and reverent.

“My girl,” Wilson whispered against her mouth, her hand cradling her cheek now instead of her throat. “Always mine. Always.”

Delilah whimpered, weak and bliss-drunk, and for the first time all night, she didn’t argue. She only nodded, clinging to Wilson like she never wanted to let go.

Wilson wasn’t satisfied, not yet. Delilah lay boneless beneath her, skin slick with sweat, lips swollen from kisses, her thighs trembling—but Wilson wasn’t done claiming her. Not when the strap was still hard between them, not when Delilah had more cries left in her throat.

“Turn over,” Wilson ordered, her voice hoarse, wrecked with lust. She tugged at Delilah’s hips, rolling her onto her stomach, then pulled her up onto her hands and knees. Delilah obeyed, shaky and gasping, her hair falling wild around her face.

Wilson gathered those coils in her fist, yanking her head back just enough to expose her throat. “God, you’re beautiful like this,” she growled, kissing the curve of her jaw before biting it. “On all fours, waiting for me like the good girl you are.”

Delilah whimpered, arching back instinctively, and Wilson groaned low, lining the strap up with her swollen, dripping entrance. She didn’t ease in this time. She slammed forward, burying herself deep in one smooth thrust that knocked a scream from Delilah’s throat.

“Fuck—yes,” Wilson hissed, holding her there, pressed to the hilt. “So fucking tight. You take me so good, baby girl. You’re made for this cock, you know that? You’re made for me.”

She set a brutal rhythm, hips snapping forward, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing in the room. Delilah clawed at the sheets, moaning uncontrollably, her body rocking with every thrust.

Wilson’s hand left her hair only to slide down her stomach, pressing flat against the soft skin just above her mound. She pushed down, hard, making Delilah feel the thickness of the strap inside her, making her gasp and choke on a sob.

“You feel that, Dee?” Wilson panted, her mouth hot at her ear as she fucked her deeper, rougher. “That’s me—so deep inside you I’m right here.” She pressed harder, making the bulge shift under her palm with every thrust. “Nobody else can fuck you like this. Nobody else can fill you like I do. This body is mine.”

Delilah’s cries broke into sobs, her eyes rolling back as pleasure tore through her. “Wilson—please—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Wilson snarled, pounding harder, her teeth scraping her shoulder. “You’re my girl. You can take everything I give you. You’re so good for me—fuck—you’re perfect.”

Her praise spilled out between every thrust, relentless, filthy and adoring:

“That’s it—good girl, take it.” “You’re mine, Delilah. Always mine.” “You look so pretty like this—crying on my cock, begging for more.” “Cum for me, baby. Cum and show me you belong to me.”

Delilah shattered with a scream, her body clamping down around the strap, her arms giving out as she collapsed forward. Wilson didn’t stop—she held her by the hips, fucking her through it, drawing out every last aftershock until Delilah was shaking, tears wetting the sheets.

When Wilson finally slowed, she bent over her, kissing the back of her neck, her words softer now, reverent against sweat-slick skin. “That’s my girl. My everything. Always have been, always will be. Say it back.”

Delilah’s voice was wrecked, barely a whisper, but she forced the words out: “Always yours.”

Wilson smiled against her skin, her hips grinding in one last slow roll. “Good girl.”

And in that moment—cock-drunk, marked, held together by Wilson’s hands—Delilah believed it down to her bones.

Delilah thought she was finished—her body shaking, her voice ragged, her thighs still quivering from the last orgasm—but Wilson wasn’t anywhere near done. She eased out slow, watching the way Delilah’s pussy clenched around nothing, slick dripping down her thighs, and her grin turned feral.

“C’mere,” Wilson ordered, her voice wrecked but firm, pulling Delilah up into her lap. She leaned back against the headboard, the strap thick and gleaming between them, her thighs spread wide. She guided Delilah forward, hands steady on her hips. “I wanna see you take me. I wanna watch my girl ride my cock.”

Delilah’s eyes fluttered, a weak whimper falling from her lips as Wilson positioned her above the strap. Her legs trembled, her nails digging into Wilson’s shoulders for balance, but Wilson only smirked, her grip iron around her waist.

“Go on, baby,” she coaxed, her tone soft but dripping with command. “Sink down. Show me how greedy you are for me.”

Delilah gasped as she lowered herself, the thick cock stretching her open all over again, every inch dragging fire through her body until she was seated fully, flush against Wilson’s hips. Her head fell back, a broken moan ripping out of her throat.

“Fuck, look at you,” Wilson groaned, her eyes locked on the way Delilah’s body swallowed the strap whole. She pressed her palm against her stomach again, feeling the bulge. “You’re stuffed, baby girl. Taking all of me like the good girl you are.”

Delilah tried to lift her hips, but she was shaky, her thighs giving out almost immediately. Wilson chuckled, sliding her hands up to cup her ass, lifting her just enough before slamming her back down. The cry that tore out of Delilah’s chest made Wilson’s jaw tighten.

“That’s it. Ride it, Dee. Work for it. Show me how much you love being my girl.”

Every thrust now was guided—Wilson bouncing her on the strap, her grip bruising on Delilah’s hips, her mouth pressed hot against her ear as she spewed filth and praise like a mantra.

“God, you look so good like this—my girl, my perfect girl.” “You’re cock-drunk already, huh? Can’t even move without me holding you up.” “You belong to me, Delilah. This pussy’s mine. This body’s mine. Say it.”

Delilah’s voice broke into sobs, her nails clawing down Wilson’s chest. “I’m yours—fuck—always yours—”

Wilson groaned, snapping her hips up to meet every bounce, driving the strap deeper, harder, until Delilah was screaming. She kissed her through it, biting her lips, swallowing every desperate sound.

“Cum on my cock, baby. Do it. Cum for me. Show me how good I make you.”

Delilah shattered, her whole body convulsing in Wilson’s lap, her walls spasming around the strap as tears streaked down her cheeks. She collapsed against Wilson’s chest, trembling, her moans broken and raw.

Wilson held her there, grinding lazy circles into her, whispering against her hair even as Delilah sobbed from overstimulation.

“That’s my girl. My everything. You ride for me, you break for me, you cum for me, and you’ll always fucking belong to me. Always.”

Delilah could only nod weakly, clinging to Wilson like she’d fall apart without her, her lips trembling as she whispered the words back:

“Always yours.”

And Wilson—grinning, sweat-slick, utterly spent but endlessly hungry—kissed her forehead, her jaw, her swollen lips, holding her as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered.

[theesoulaaniarchive]

suga mama - kwn

word count: 1052. cw (content warning): pussy eating, choking, strap-on sex, face-sitting/riding, praise kink, blkfem!reader, switch!reader, switch!kwn, curlyhair!kwn. synopsis: k’s first time with an older woman. you’re a rich businesswoman who now works from home. (for the sake of this story, let’s act like k kept her curls).

songs that inspired this: suga mama - beyoncé (hence the name) & f.u.c.k - victoria monét (plus k's genius interview)

enjoy. 💋

you were walking down the street in north london in a trench coat and leather boots, the cold air whipping past your face. you make it to a park, finding a bench between two trees to sit on. you pull out your laptop and begin working, answering emails and messaging your secretary. out of your peripheral, you see someone sit on the opposite end of the bench, but you don’t pay them any mind.

“hey.” the mystery person said, prompting you to look over from your laptop. you looked over to see a masculine-presenting woman with a lot of tattoos and curly hair, probably in her early 20s.

“hi.” you said. she introduced herself, “my name’s k” and extended her hand to you. “y/n” you said as you shook her hand. “you live around here?” you asked “yeah, you?” k asked.

“well, i’m from the states but i do have a house here. i’m on vacation” you said. “i come out here sometimes when i need to write” k said. “so you’re a music artist?” you asked. “yeah, i actually just got off my first tour.” k said. “really? that’s great. congratulations.” you said, smiling. “thank you. what do you do?” k asked. “i’m a businesswoman, or i guess i used to be. i work from home now.”

you & k talked for what felt like hours, then you looked at the time. “oh shit, i needa get home.” you said, packing your laptop into your bag. “well, can i get your number so we can continue our conversation?” k said as the both of you stood up. k’s words made you chuckle a bit “baby, i’m grown.” you said.

“so am i.”

“how old are you?”

“26. how old are you?”

“38.” you said, pulling out a pen and sticky note to jot down your number. “i normally don’t date or talk to anyone this younger than me, but i like you.” you handed the note to k and she took it happily. you both said your goodbyes and went home.

over the course of a few months, you and k got to know each other and went on a few dates before making it official. k’s coming to see you in the u.s. the day she's supposed to get there, you make sure your house is clean floor to ceiling before getting in the shower. you decide to wear some lingerie under a silk robe. just then, you get a text from k.

"i'm almost there"

i felt like hours waiting for her to get there. then it finally happened, the ring of your doorbell. you got up to look through the peephole before opening the door, "hi!" you said, hugging her. "hey!" k responded. she hugged you like she wanted your body to remember what her touch felt like.

you locked the door behind her then leaned against the staircase railing, arms folded. "you been actin' real cocky in them text messages."

"have i?" k asked.

"talkin' 'bout you gon' "put me through the mattress, you not gon' put nobody through the mattress."

"i'm not?" k asked, making you tilt your head and squint your eyes slightly "go upstairs and take your clothes off" you said, making k chuckle a bit "that's not how this works."

you looked at her like she was crazy. "i'm wondering why you’re still standing here. did i stutter? do what i say, go upstairs."

"yes ma’am." and with that, k was walking up the stairs.

you gave her about 30 seconds before heading upstairs. when you got to the bedroom, she was standing in front of the bed, still in her underwear. you leaned against the casing of the door, fidgeting with the tie of your robe. "it was implied when i told you to take your clothes off that i meant all of them."

like clockwork, she stripped off her underwear. "see? better already" you said as you took your robe off. you walked toward k, kissing her and pushing her down onto the bed. you climbed on top of her and kissed her again, k's hands all over your body.

you made out for a while until you broke the kiss, sliding up until your pussy was right above k's mouth. you finally sat, and it was like heaven for both of you. "oh fuck." she wrapped her arms around your thighs, hungry.

k had you gripping the headboard for stability as you moaned. "shit, k.. just like that." you said, your head thrown back.

you started rocking your hips back and forth against her mouth, letting out guttural moans. "good girl, fuck.." you said. you were getting close. and the praise was only egging k on.

you got closer and closer to cumming before somehow finding the strength to pull yourself up & off k. "did you bring the strap?" you asked, breathing heavy. k responded, "yeah."

"good, put it on" you instructed, making k get up with a quickness to get it out of her bag.

once the harness was on and secure, k turned around to you. "come're" you told her. she got on top of you, settling between your legs. she aligned the strap with your glistening pussy before slowly pushing inside, then starting to stroke at a steady pace. you let out breathy moans with each thrust.

"fuck, yes.."

"it feel good, don’t it?" she whispered right into your ear. when you didn't respond, k took upon herself to start stroking a little faster, making you moan.

"that's what i thought."

"oh shit.." you let out. "stop being quiet, it’s just us" k said, reaching down to rub your clit.

out of all the people you'd been with, none had made you feel like this. fuck, it feels so good. euphoric, even. "oh my—fuck!" you moaned. k bent down to plant kisses & hickies on your neck. your hand was cupping the side of her face, holding her in place while one of her hands snaked around your neck. you could feel your orgasm building before you finally came, moaning loudly.

k plopped down next to you on the bed, so now you were both laying there, breathing heavy. you turned to her, "were gonna have a lot of fun together" you said, making her smirk.

yes you were.

[theesoulaaniarchive]

'til you cry/midnight snack - kwn

word count: 869. cw (content warning): pussy eating, overstimulation, choking, strapon sex, praise kink, bottom!reader, blkfem!reader, bottom!reader, top!kwn. synopsis: k’s commited to make your waters burst.

this was inspired by k's song that she need to release immediately.

enjoy. 💋

it was midnight. you were in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, having a glass of water, the overhead stove light dimly illuminating the surrounding area. you were in nothing but a black lace bra & panty set with a black boudoir robe over it. k walks downstairs into the kitchen, wearing a wife beater and shorts. she leaned against the island “why are you still up?” she asked, her voice slightly raspy and groggy.

“i couldn’t sleep.” you took a sip of water. “i can help you fall asleep.” she said. “would that actually work?” you asked. “only one way to find out, innit?” you stepped closer and wrapped your arms around her neck. k’s hands instantly wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. you began making out, your tongues dancing together. after a moment, she pulled back and took your hand, starting to lead you back upstairs to the bedroom.

once you were both in the room, you closed the door and k turned on the lamp on the beside table, making the room fully lit. she made her way back to you, kissing you again, untying your robe and sliding it off your shoulders, making it pool on the floor around you.

as you made out, one of k’s hands was wrapped around your neck, and the other one had a handful of your ass in it. she started walking you back towards the bed before gently pushing you down, crawling on top of you. she started kissing your neck, leaving hickeys on either side. she slid your panties off and began leaving a trail of kisses up your inner thigh, creeping up to your clit.

eventually, she made her way to your pussy, licking a long stripe up the middle, focusing on your clit. the way that k sucked and licked on your clit made you feel like you were seeing stars. shit, maybe you were. it felt like she knew your body better than you did.

"fuck." you moaned under your breath.

k always hated when you were quiet, but she also knew it wouldn’t take much to get you loud.

k slid two fingers inside you, starting to thrust in and out in time with her tongue. moans were pouring out of you, with the occasional "oh fuck." k parted her lips from your clit to say, "you taste so good.." before continuing. her eyes were locked with yours as she ate you out, piercing into you.

the minute you stopped making eye contact, k came back up, her fingers still going.

"uh uh, look at me." then her head went back down.

you were starting to buck your hips a little more often, you were getting closer. that familiar pit was starting to form in your stomach "mhm, baby..shit..." your legs gave a light tremor as you came, your head thrown back against the pillows.

k gave a kiss to your inner thigh before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand & coming up to kiss you. you pulled back, out of breath. "we're not done, you got me started." k said, making you throw your head back against the pillows and fold your arms jokingly "i haven't even caught my breath yet." you retorted. "you got time to breathe later." k said as she walked over to the dresser to get the strap.

by the time you looked, k was already on the bed, kissing your neck, then your lips, then she gently flipped you over.

"good girl."

k wasted no time, thrusting in slowly, allowing you to adjust to the size before gradually speeding up. you were so overstimulated, you didn't think you could cum again. "oh my god, fuck.." you reached back to try to slow k down, but your attempts were in vain. she grabbed your forearm and held it behind your back, hovering right over you. her mouth to your ear, "stay right here." the only thing you can get out is needy whimpers.

"baby.. i can't..fuck.."

"you can & you will."

she's relentless & passionate, eager to please. she felt so good. she never failed to make every time feel better than the last. k released your forearm to slap your ass.

"i need you to cum again for me."

"i can't.."

k doesn’t take that for an answer and goes deeper, kissing your neck "let me find it for you." her thrusts got faster, your whimpers going with them. "that's my girl." she says in your ear, as if you could get any wetter. all you can do at this point is grab every bit of the sheets you could get your hands on. your 2nd orgasm hit you like a train, your legs giving a more fierce tremor this time, your moans & whimpers following it.

k doesn't pull out until she's sure that you’re finished cumming. you sat up and she kissed you passionately, her tongue in your mouth. "see? i knew you could do it."

"mhm, let's go again.." you said, breathing heavy.

"oou, that's what i like to hear" k said with a smirk, already about to pounce on you again.

"but let me catch my breath first, shit."

[desire4ella]

ᝰ.ᐟ BRAT ⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Mad! Smoke makes my head go brrrr!

Strict Stack coming soon…

BEST READ IN DARK MODE!!

Today you were really pushing it, from you kissing your teeth at him to you ‘accidentally’ knocking his hat of his head in public. The car ride home was sickeningly quiet, you could hear the tires crunching against the sandy dirt and the cicadas screeching in mockery against you, almost like they were laughing at your current situation. You just knew your ass was grass when you got back home , but a sick and twisted part of you wanted him to get reckless…to finally lose that tough facade that he always up; your actually surprised he didn’t turn you every which way but loose infront of everyone, and actually wreck your mind and body how you wanted him too.

That’s exactly why you decided to push his buttons today, he’s been so caught up in running around town with his crazy ass twin these past few days that it’s like he forgot has a whole woman he needed to tend to as well, so when he proposed the idea of taking you out shopping to make up for his loss, you couldn’t help but cackle and make up a plan to make him pay.

INSIDE THE HOUSE…

Before you could spit another angry comment back at him, his big hand shot out, grabbin' your wrist and yanked you down onto the king sized bed. You hit the mattress with a gasp, but he was on you in a flash, his dead weight pinnin' you flat. “Look at you, all mouthy and full of fire,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear, his voice already hoarse from all that shouting’ he was doing with stack. “You’ve been getting on my last nerves since we’ve stepped out this fuckin house darlin. I already told you i’m sorry, what more do you want, hmmm?…”

He went quiet for a second, almost to see if you would dare even open your mouth to justify your nasty behaviour. Humming in satisfaction he ghosted his lips down your neck. “ mhmm.. just like i thought, soon as a nigga pin you down, you get to going all quiet and shi’… is’ aight though, jus means by the end of it you’ll be so fucked out, i won’t have to deal with yo bratty ass whining in my ear no mo”

Roughly turning you over he hiked up your dress and groaned as he saw your panties were already damp in the middle “ Look at ya’…panties already drippin and I ain’t een touch that pretty pussy yet” you let out a whine in frustration, it was not supposed to turn out like this; He was the one who was supposed to beg, not YOU!. He got his finger and run it down the centre of your clothed pussy, you tried to close your legs but that was quickly corrected with a harsh slap on your thigh “ Keep them legs open pretty girl, i ain’t gon tell yer’ ass again”

“You been beggin' for this, haven't ya? Dreamin' 'bout me foldin' you up like a goddamn pretzel and fuckin' the sass right outta ya.”

He didn't wait for your answer—didn't care. His rough hands gripped your thighs, haulin' 'em up high, pressin' your knees back toward your chest until your body folded beneath him. The mating press locked you in place, your pussy exposed and vulnerable, thighs tremblin' against your own shoulders. Smoke loomed over you, his belt clinkin' as he shoved his jeans down just enough to free his thick cock, already hard and throbbin', veins bulgin' like twisted roots. “See this?” he snarled, slappin' the heavy length against your slick folds. “This here's gonna teach you respect, girl. You gonna take every inch, and you're gonna thank me for it.”

You whimpered, but he just laughed, a mean, guttural sound that rumbled from his chest. “Whinin' already? Pathetic. Thought you were tough, talkin' all that shit earlier. Now look at ya—legs spread wide, pussy drippin' like a faucet just waitin' for my dick.” He teased the fat head along your entrance, rubbin' it through your wetness, but not pushin' in yet. “Say it. Tell me you're sorry for bein' a mouthy little bitch.” His eyes bored into yours, dark and unyieldin', that drawl sharp as a switchblade. “Or I'll make you beg louder.”

The pressure built as he finally thrust forward, buryin' half his cock in one brutal shove. You cried out, the stretch burnin' sweet and deep, your walls clenchin' around him. “That's it,” he grunted, foldin' you tighter, his hips slammin' down to drive the rest home. “Feel that? My cock splittin' you open, fillin' up that greedy cunt. You ain't nothin' but a hole for me to use now, darlin'. No more backtalk—just moans and my name.” He started poundin' into you, each thrust pinnin' you deeper into the mattress, his balls slappin' against your ass with wet, obscene smacks.

Sweat beaded on his brow, tricklin' down his stubbled jaw as he rutted like an animal, mean and relentless. “Look at your face,” he taunted, voice husky with that slow southern roll. “All twisted up, eyes waterin' 'cause you can't handle how deep I'm goin'. This is what you get for thinkin' you could mouth off to me. I'm gonna fuck you till you can't even remember your own damn name.” His hands dug into your thighs, bruisin' the flesh, holdin' you locked in that crushin' position while he hammered away, cock dragin' against every sensitive spot inside you.

You tried to squirm, but he pinned you harder, his body a cage of muscle and heat. “Nuh-uh, stay put,” he snapped, teeth flashin' in a wicked grin. “You take it like a good girl, or I'll flip you over and spank that ass raw first. Bet you'd like that, wouldn't ya? Dirty little slut, creamin' all over my dick while I correct your ways.” The dirty words poured from him, each one punctuated by a savage thrust, his accent thickenin' with lust. “Fuck, you're tight—squeezin' me like you never want me to pull out. That's right, milk my cock. Show me how sorry you are.”

The room filled with the sounds of skin on skin, your gasps mixin' with his grunts, the bed groanin' under the force. He leaned down closer, his mouth crashin' against yours in a rough kiss, tongue invadin' like he owned you. “Taste that?” he murmured against your lips, drawl slurrin' with effort. “That's you, all wet and needy. No more actin' like you run this show. From now on, you keep that attitude in check, or I'll bend you like this every goddamn night.”

Pressure coiled tight in your core, his relentless pace pushin' you toward the edge. He felt it, smirkin' as he ground deeper, hittin' that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes. “Cum for me, then,” he ordered, voice a low command. “Squirt all over this cock and prove you've learned your lesson. But don't think we're done—I'm gonna fill this pussy up, breed you full till it leaks outta ya.” With a final, brutal slam, he buried himself to the hilt, ropin' hot cum deep inside as your body shattered around him, waves of pleasure crashin' through the mean, delicious hold he had on you. Water splashing all over his lower abdomen and your juicy cunt pushed his dick out.

See, the difference with Smoke was never in what he said—because Smoke didn’t need words. He was the kind of man whose silence spoke louder than threats ever could. One slow, deliberate glance from him—sharp, unreadable, heavy with intent—and your body reacted before your brain did.

That mean glare that he would give you when you got to out of line, signified that you had half a second, maybe less, to cut the shit and act right. No countdown. No second chances. Just the understanding that whatever nonsense you were on needed to end immediately—or Smoke would end it for you. He doesn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. He doesn’t even look at you. Most times, he doesn’t have to.

[theegoldenchild]

Breakup To Makeup

Warnings: +18 | Modern AU | Stack x Reader | Dom!Stack | Bratty Sub!Reader | Cheating | Degradation kink | Light BDSM | Vibrator | Spanking/Punishment (if you squint) | Creampie | Overstimulation | Voyeurism (kind of) | Toxic Relationship | Stack is a complete asshole with a big ole schlong 🤷🏾‍♀️

It had only been two months. An entire eight weeks. Sixty goddamn days since Stack tore through your world and left you in pieces so jagged not even time could sand down the edges. You weren’t counting, not out loud anyway, but your body knew. It kept track of time in the most humiliating ways: in the ache between your thighs that never really went away, in the way your skin felt too tight for your bones at night, and in how nothing you touched yourself with ever came close to what he used to do with a single look and a few cruel words.

The apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft, wet whir of the rose toy buzzing uselessly against your clit. Your sheets were twisted beneath you and drenched in the kind of frustration that didn’t ease with heat or friction. You had been at it for almost half an hour now, rolling onto your back, then your side, then your stomach, switching up the pressure, the angles and even the pace hoping something would click… but it didn’t. Your body refused to cooperate, even as your toes curled and your thighs trembled while your fingers pressed harder against the rose’s buttons like maybe it was your fault the thing wasn’t working right… Like maybe you weren’t trying hard enough to replace him.

But the truth was, you had tried and failed. You tried so damn hard to pretend like other men could take his place. One of them was a trainer with big arms and perfect teeth. He was the kind of man who liked to call you “ma” and rub on your leg during brunch. Another was a quiet, artistic type who smoked clove cigarettes and read you poetry right before bed. The last one you entertained was rough with his hands but soft with his mouth, always asking if you were okay and checking in. You thought he would be a safe choice, but just like the others he didn’t fix the itch you needed to scratch.

Your free hand reached for your phone without thinking, the motion muscle memory by now. You rolled over onto your side and dragged the screen to life as the artificial glow casted shadows against your face. Your thumb moved in idle circles, tapping through names, numbers, grainy selfies, and old flings you couldn’t even remember fucking. You paused on a few and thought about what it might feel like to call one of them, just to get a little taste, but every memory came back warped and lacking. Their touches had all faded from your skin like chalk in the rain, unlike the ones from the asshole that branded himself on your heart.

A flashback ran through your mind and that’s when your fingers stopped scrolling.

Stack.

His name stared up at you, still saved under that stupid contact name you gave him: ‘Mr. Big Dick Headache.’ You swiped up without meaning to, pulled open the message thread and stared at the last thing he ever sent you—‘Lose my fucking number.’ It still made your stomach twist in knots, because deep down you knew he didn’t mean it. You were well aware that this was how Stack operated. He got off on cutting deep before you could slice him first. But this time around you were tired of pretending like you were the only one bleeding out.

Your thumb hovered over the call button, heart drumming a steady rhythm that went nowhere. You didn’t bother pressing it and instead let out an annoyed sigh when you remembered Stack blocked you two months ago, right after that last argument when you finally told him the truth. Told him you did fuck someone else but it was a one time situation to prove a point. The only reason you did it was because you wanted him to feel, even for a second, the kind of sick betrayal you felt every time he came home late smelling like another woman’s perfume. You didn’t cry when he cussed you out and called you everything but a child of God. Instead you just stood there, naked under his T-shirt, arms crossed, and waiting for him to finish expressing his anger so you guys could have makeup sex like you always did.

But this time, it didn’t happen. When he was done, he stormed out of your apartment and slammed the door shut.  And you hated how that still bothered you.

You hated how Stack got to be angry. How he got to act like you were the problem. Like you had broken the sacred code when he never even gave you a title. No “girlfriend,” no “baby,” not even a damn 24 hour instagram story. But oh, his raggedy ass knew how to claim you when it was convenient. Knew how to hold your face still when he slid inside you and said, “This mine. You hear me? Mine.” Knew how to threaten every man that so much as looked your way and leave marks deep enough to last until the next weekend he decided to come back around.

Even though your relationship with Stack was extremely toxic, you weren’t stupid. You knew what it was. You were the one woman who could take what he dished out. The only one who gave him the fight he craved and the submission he needed. And he was the only man who could tear you down, fuck you back together, and make you feel safe while calling you every disrespectful name in the book.

Still holding your phone, you let the rose toy fall limp between your thighs. You weren’t going to cum from silicone and batteries. Not tonight and probably not tomorrow either. Not until you got what you really needed.

Another sigh slipped past your lips. It was drawn out and bitten at the end like it tasted bitter coming out. You glanced at the time and groaned at it being 12:46 AM. If you left now, traffic would be nonexistent and you could be at his door in less than twenty-five minutes. Your heart was still dragging its feet like a disobedient child being told to go inside after playing too long in the rain. Logic was banging its fists against the locked door of your mind, shouting things about pride, dignity, knowing your worth, blah blah blah. But your body was already making decisions your brain didn’t agree to.

You padded barefoot across the cold floor, stepping over the discarded tank top you tried to wear for comfort. Your legs felt heavy, weighed down by equal parts sexual frustration and adrenaline. You flipped the bathroom light on and caught sight of yourself in the mirror. Your face wore a needy expression that made you whine internally and your chest rose and fell in shallow swells that made your nipples pebble from the draft. You looked used but not in the way you wanted. Not in the way he used to leave you.

You opened the cabinet, brushing past your night cream and sleeping mask as you reached for the little container of body shimmer you hadn’t touched since your last night with him. Stack always liked when your skin glittered, he said it looked like sin pretending to be sugar. You twisted the cap off, dipped two fingers in, and rubbed a little along your collarbones and down the center of your chest. Then more between your thighs.

You took your time dressing up. Half of you did it because you wanted to remind him of what he lost and the other half of you did it because you wanted him to notice you again. To see what he had been missing and hate himself for letting it go so easily. You drenched yourself in his favorite lotion, the one he used to lick off your shoulders with that grin that made you forget every lie he ever told. And when it was time to pick what to wear, you went for the nuclear option. Red lace. 

This particular lace bra left nothing to the imagination and put your hardened nipples on display. It came with a matching thong and a garter belt, that hugged your waist and did absolutely nothing to hide the curve of your ass. You pulled it on and smoothed the material over your hips before stepping into a pair of cherry red stilettos you hated but knew he loved. They were tall and dangerous, the kind of shoes that made you walk with your back arched and your thighs pressed tight together just to keep balance. Every step in them reminded you of how sore he used to leave you. How shaky your knees would get when he forced you to hold yourself open while he watched, arms folded and voice like poison wrapped in domination as he told you how you better not finish without his say-so.

You threw on a black trench coat over everything, buttoned only once at the waist, just enough to protect your false sense of control. The hem flared like a threat every time you moved, brushing the tops of your thighs. You grabbed your keys and didn’t think twice about your reckless decision. You didn’t bother calling a friend to talk through your emotions, you just walked out the door like a woman with no shame left to lose.

The drive to Stack’s home was quiet. Streetlights blurred past in long golden lines, smearing your reflection in the windshield. Your phone sat facedown in the passenger seat, untouched. Right now you didn’t need music or any outside distractions. You just needed to see him. Feel him. Erase the last two months in one filthy, hate-laced night.

You parked across the street like you used to, tires crunching over the gravel. His porch light was off, just like always. Stack was a man of routine. Lights off, cameras on and doors locked. You crept up the path in your heels, trench coat catching in the wind as you breathed hard enough to fog the air while your nerves screamed beneath your skin. Your fingers reached for the potted plant beside the steps, the one that always hid the spare key he swore he would never take back. Except… It wasn’t there anymore.

A frown creased on your forehead as your fingers scraped dirt, then mulch, and finally the hollow space where the key used to be. He actually got rid of it. That trifling son of a—

“The fuck you doin’ out here dressed like that?”

The sound of his voice made you freeze and caused every nerve in your body to flicker. You turned slowly, heartbeat hammering. There he was, the bane of your existence looking annoyingly handsome and sweating through a gray tank top so damp it clung to every carved inch of his torso like a second skin. A black gym bag was slung over one shoulder, the strap dragging across the round curve of his delts. His shorts were loose but not loose enough, there was a very distinct eight inch bulge pressing forward, barely restrained, and you knew he was already more than halfway hard.

He wasn’t even trying to hide it as his eyes roamed and his tongue pressed against his cheek like he was already chewing on the storm you dragged with you. “I said…” He walked up the steps, each footfall heavy. “What in the entire fuck is this?”

You straightened your back, fists curled in the pockets of your coat. “I came to talk.”

“To talk?” he repeated, voice dropping to an octave that wasn’t soft or friendly, just low like fire burning underneath your skin. “You tryin’ my patience, woman. Look at you. Out here in the middle of the night dressed like a five dolla’ whore. You really this desperate?”

You squinted your eyes and clenched your fist tighter inside of your pockets. “You got rid of my key.”

“Damn right I did.”

“So that’s it, huh? All that time we spent together and you treat me like I was just… disposable?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You fucked on another nigga, then you wanna stand on my porch talkin’ ‘bout what I did?”

“You cheated on me first, Elias! You didn’t even claim me and I still let that shit slide! The one time I gave you a taste of your own medicine, you ghosted me like I was a side chick and took away my key like I ain’t never meant shit to you!”

His stare didn’t falter. It was as if what you were saying to him went in one ear and out the other. He didn’t bother engaging in an argument with you or meeting your tantrum with one of his own. Instead he looked at you and the wheels in his head began to turn. A breath slid through his teeth, low and crooked, like he couldn’t believe he was wasting time hearing you speak when your coat was flaring just wide enough to expose a hint of candy red lace underneath.

His eyes sharpened like broken glass and then the smirk came. One side of his mouth pulled back lazily like a lion watching a rabbit try to make demands. “So that’s why you here.” He dragged his eyes back up, voice curling around every syllable. “Lil’ nasty.”

You didn’t even blink when he stepped right up in your space, towering over you, his body hot and damp and stinking of exertion. He still smelled like whatever cologne he wore to the gym. It was expensive, dark, and spicy, but beneath that was him. Pure Stack. Sweat, testosterone, disrespect, and everything your body was already begging to wrap itself around.

He adjusted the strap of the gym bag and pushed past you like you were nothing more than an object in the way. You caught the heat of his bicep as it brushed your shoulder. He stopped at his front door and pulled out his key before turning the knob and opening it. To your surprise he didn’t step inside first. Instead he held the door open with one hand and looked over his shoulder at you. His eyes were darker now… full of mischief and hunger.

His voice dropped lower, forcing his Mississippi accent to hang heavy in the air. “Go ‘head, baby. Crawl.”

You blinked, heart punching your ribs. “What?”

Stack leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, cocked his head, and licked his bottom lip like he was savoring the sight of your confusion. “Since you wanna act like a bitch in heat, tryna hump whoever’ll take you…” He nodded toward the entrance. “Get on ya hands ‘n knees. Crawl inside. Show Daddy you know what you came here for.”

For a split second you didn’t move as your thighs squeezed together and the wetness you thought dried during the drive came back in full force. You swallowed down whatever pride you had left and let it rot where it stood.

The porch light stayed off. The street stayed quiet. The night wrapped around the two of you like it was complicit. For a long moment you just stood there, trench coat fluttering slightly around your legs, heels biting into the concrete, your mind screaming while your body leaned forward a fraction of an inch without permission.

Stack didn’t rush you as he stayed rooted in his spot like this wasn’t the most unholy sight he had seen all week. His eyes stayed locked on you, patient in the most infuriating way, like he already knew exactly how this was going to end and was enjoying watching you fight it.

“Clock tickin’, baby,” he drawled quietly, accent thick and lazy around the edges without softness. “Ain’t got all night. Legs already tired from the gym. Don’t make me wait.”

A lump bobbed in your throat and you hated that your knees trembled. Hated that your stomach flipped in that familiar way that always happened right before he stripped you of control. You peeled your hands out of your coat pockets slowly, fingers curling once at your sides as if bracing for impact. Then you bent.

The concrete was cold when your palms touched it. Rough and unforgiving material scraped faintly against your skin as you lowered yourself all the way down. Your trench coat fell open immediately, exposing lace and bare thigh to the night air. The stilettos made the position awkward and forced your back to arch instinctively just to keep balance while your ass lifted without you meaning to present it.

A sound left Stack’s throat, like a king satisfied with his subject. “Look at you,” he muttered, voice thick with that Delta drag that always made your insides melt and twist at the same time. “Ain’t shit changed. Still real pretty when you remember where you belong.”

Heat flooded your face and humiliation burned sharp and bright, chased immediately by lust so strong it made your fingers curl against the concrete. You crawled forward like he told you to, each movement obedient but shaky, heels wobbling, thighs brushing together, lace stretching tight across your body with every shift.

You crossed the threshold on your hands and knees, palms pressing into cool hardwood now instead of cement. The smell inside his house hit you instantly. Clean laundry, leather, his soap, and the faint metallic tang of bullets and blood that followed him everywhere. It wrapped around you like a memory you couldn’t escape.

Stack shut the door behind you and locked it. You barely had time to process it before his foot nudged your thigh, firm but not violent, just enough pressure to remind you who was setting the pace tonight. The toe of his sneaker tapped just beneath the curve of your plump ass like he was testing how obedient you were really going to be and if you were going to follow through with the filth you came here begging for. Like he wanted to see if the woman who stepped on his heart two months ago with venom in her eyes was really about to crawl back into it with no shame left to burn.

“Don’t stop,” he said behind you, voice thick and quiet, laced with something sticky and mean. “I ain’t tell you to pause.”

Your knees scooted forward across the hardwood, muscles shaking as you forced your hands to move again. You had made it halfway down the hallway, the heels on your feet doing more damage than good as they forced your hips higher and your back deeper into that humiliating arch he liked so much. Your palms were starting to sting and the material between your legs had turned from cute to torturous, soaked and clinging, as it stuck to your folds with every little motion.

Stack didn’t follow right away, you could hear him behind you, the quiet shifting of his weight as he leaned a shoulder against the frame and watched. You didn’t have to look back to know the expression on his face. It was the same one he always wore when he was winning. That infuriating calm, like none of this mattered to him.

Your fingers curled into the floor beneath you and you dragged yourself forward another foot. Then another. The silence pressed in on you and it was ironic how it was so loud it made your ears ring. The only sound was the faint creak of your heels and your own shaky breathing, each exhale catching as the air from the vents skimmed over your exposed skin.

By the time you made it past the hallway and into the wide mouth of the living room, your arms were aching and your pride was somewhere back on the porch. The soft lamp glow from the kitchen spilled across the floor in broken amber lines, casting your body in fractured shadows. You dropped your forehead against the hardwood, not from exhaustion, but to breathe through the heat blooming low in your stomach. It was unbearable now. This was the kind of ache that turned your thoughts into soup, made your jaw tighten and your mouth press shut to keep from saying something you couldn’t take back.

He let you stay there for a long minute. Just kneeling and waiting, trying not to fall apart before he even touched you again. Then the sound of footsteps filled your ears.Each one dragged with intent across the floor, cutting through the silence like the blade he kept hidden under his mattress.

He stepped into the living room behind you and stood there, long enough for the heat of his body to lick across your skin in a wave. You stayed exactly where you were, heart hammering against the floorboards, fingers trembling slightly against the wood.

“Look at you,” he said. “Actin’ like you ain’t just spend two months tryna replace me.”

You didn’t respond but you felt his presence shift behind you as he got closer and lowered himself down. His voice cut through the space between your shoulder blades like a brand being pressed to your spine.

“Raise it up.”

You knew what he meant. Your elbows bent immediately and you lifted your head from the floor before arching even deeper and spreading your knees. You pushed your ass back until your cheeks tilted up toward him, the lace cutting into your hips and barely covering anything now. The coat spilled open completely, bunching beneath your stomach like discarded evidence.

Stack exhaled hard through his nose. “That’s better,” he said, voice darker now, simmering under his accent like a storm behind his teeth. “Don’t come to my house beggin’ unless you prepared to earn it.”

His hand skimmed up the inside of your thigh, fingers tracing the stickiness smeared there, dragging unbothered circles into your skin like he had all night to figure out exactly how wet you were. He paused at the edge of your panties, thumb dipping beneath the elastic, pulling it to the side with a snap that made you gasp.

He stared silently for a moment and you could feel his eyes on your skin. That heavy intense stare he did whenever he was pretending not to be impressed. Pretending you didn’t still mean something to him.

“Damn,” he hummed. “You came here drippin’, huh?”

Your voice was barely a whisper. “I tried… I tried everything else...”

That made him laugh, like full on belly laugh.  “You think I give a fuck ‘bout what you tried?” His fingers slid down the crease of your folds without warning, dragging through your sticky honey like it was something that belonged to him. “You think I care you been ridin’ other dicks that ain’t make you cum?”

You gasped as his fingers brushed your clit, just once, before pulling back.

“I ain’t no substitute,” he said. “I’m the fuckin’ standard.”

You whimpered and your toes curled so hard inside your heels you thought they might snap off. His words landed heavy, settling deep in your chest and lower, right where your desires lived. You swallowed but your throat was dry and your skin buzzed like it was stretched too tight over your bones. He stayed pressed behind you for a heartbeat longer, letting the truth of it sink in and letting you feel how solid he was.

Just when you thought he was going to give you what you wanted, he pulled away. The loss of his heat was brutal. It left you empty and aching, forcing your hips to rock back instinctively like your body hadn’t gotten the memo yet. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose, fingers curling against the floor as you tried to steady yourself once more.

Stack stepped around you and dropped onto the couch with a careless sprawl, like none of this cost him anything. The cushions dipped under his weight. He leaned back, elbows spread wide, gym clothes still clinging dark and damp to his chest and thighs. Sweat traced slow paths down his neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his tank. His shorts sat low on his hips, the outline was still there and unmistakable. His third leg was so thick and heavy even without him touching himself.

He looked at you like you were an unfinished task. “You got two minutes,” he said, checking an invisible watch on his wrist, voice flat and merciless. “Convince me I should fuck you ‘fore I kick you out my house, take me a shower, an take my black ass to bed.”

Your heart slammed hard against your ribs.

“Two minutes,” he repeated. “That’s it.”

You didn’t argue or stall, the second the words left his mouth your body moved like it had been waiting for permission. You pushed up off the floor, heels wobbling and knees screaming as you staggered toward the bathroom. The light flicked on and you grabbed a washcloth from the rack before running it under warm water, and wringing it out fast while your hands shook with urgency and panic and need all tangled together.

You came back into the living room just as fast, cloth in hand, eyes already tracking him like a magnet. You dropped down in front of him, knees hitting the rug, trench coat falling open completely now as you reached for his thigh.

His hand shot out and caught your wrist mid-motion. “Nuh-uh,” he said quietly. “I ain’t tell you to touch me like that.”

Your breath came shallow. “I just wanna—”

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, face close enough now that you could see the glint in his eyes. He was testing how far he could push you tonight since he was still pissed. “Don’t come at me with no damn rag. You know better than that.”

Your stomach flipped. “Stack—”

“Uh-uh.” His thumb pressed into the inside of your wrist. “Use ya mouth. Same way I taught you... If you still remember.”

Heat flooded your face and your thighs squeezed together. Shame and want twisted up so tight it made your head spin. You dropped the washcloth to the floor without another word and settled back onto your knees, posture straightening automatically, shoulders back, and chin lifting just enough to show him you were listening.

He leaned back again, spreading his legs wider this time, gaze never leaving your face. “Clock still tickin’, baby,” he said. “You wastin’ time.”

You scooted forward on your knees, hands resting on his thighs, thumbs brushing over damp fabric. You bowed your head and pressed your lips to his knee first, then higher, kissing the sweat-slick skin through the thin cotton of his shorts. Your mouth worked slow with devotion, tongue tracing the outline of his quad, teeth grazing lightly where you knew he liked it.

A quiet sound slipped out of him before he could stop it. You smiled to yourself and leaned in further, mouth open now, dragging kisses up his thigh and your hands tightening as your confidence crept back in. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his shorts and paused, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Please,” you said softly. “Let me.”

He stared down at you for a long moment. Then he nodded once. “Go on,” he said. “But don’t rush it. You rush, you done.”

You tugged his shorts down just enough to free him, the weight of him heavy in your hand, hot and already throbbing. You leaned in and dragged your tongue along the underside, slow and thorough, tasting sweat and salt and him. Your mouth closed around the head, lips stretching and tongue pressing flat as you took him in inch by inch, just like he liked.

His hand came up and tangled in your hair immediately, not pulling, just reminding you who’s in charge.  “There you go,” he groaned, voice low and thick. “That’s it... Show me you ain’t forgot.”

You worked him with your mouth, steady and eager, hollowing your cheeks, tongue tracing familiar paths. Your jaw ached but you welcomed it. You wanted to hurt. Wanted to prove something. Your hands slid up his thighs, nails digging in, grounding yourself as you took him deeper.

“Time still runnin’,” he reminded you. “Why shouldn’t I throw you back outside when I finish?”

You pulled back just enough for air, saliva shining on your mouth, your chin damp and eyes sharp when you looked up at him. “Because you like me right here,” you said confidently. “Because this is the only thing that gets you to shut you up.”

His mouth twisted with annoyance and he pushed your head back with two fingers under your chin, not rough, forcing you to look at him. “Nah,” he said. “You know what I think, sweetheart? I think you should go call that nigga you fucked. Bet he’d love to see you on ya knees like this. Go on. Call him.”

The words hit like a splash of cold water and gasoline all at once.

Your eyes flashed with anger. “Fuck you.”

He smiled wider, taunting you. “There it is.”

“You really sittin’ there actin’ brand new,” you shot back, voice rising and heat pouring out of you now that the dam was cracked. “Like you ain’t been runnin’ through bitches since the day I met you. Like I ain’t swallowed your lies and your dick with the same damn mouth.”

His brows lifted slightly amused at your audacity.

“I mirrored you,” you continued, getting to your feet, anger stiffening your spine, heels planting hard against the rug beneath you. “That’s all I did. I mirrored you. And suddenly it’s a problem when it’s not just you doing the dirt.”

He leaned back against the couch, arms stretched out against the cushions. “Difference is,” he said calmly, “I ain’t never pretended I was loyal. You knew the type of man I was ‘fore you got with me.”

“And I ain’t never pretended I was yours,” you fired back. “You don’t get to cheat on me and then act like I committed some unforgivable sin.”

His gaze dragged over you like a blade, not even bothering to hide the contempt crawling up the corners of his mouth. “You never was mine,” he said, voice dipped in venom now. “Just some decent pussy to fuck when I ain’t have nothin’ else to do.”

A breath left your chest like he had punched it out of you. You blinked twice and then your throat worked around the lump swelling up like fury and heartbreak at once. You knew Stack fought dirty. You knew it. And still, every single time somehow, he found new ways to dig beneath the skin and pull the ugliest parts of you right out in the open.

“Wow,” you whispered, voice raw. “That’s how you really feel?”

He tilted his head and smiled like someone who knew they were hurting you and liked how quiet it made you. “If I wanted somethin’ real, I would’ve picked a bitch that didn’t need to fuck somebody else to feel seen.”

You lost your mind for a second as you moved and your palm cracked across his face. Your fingers stung instantly from the hit and his head jerked a little from the impact, but his expression didn’t change. That same crooked grin stayed there, blooming wider now, like you had just handed him a gift.

“Damn,” he breathed, blinking slow. “There she go.”

“Fuck you, Elias,” you hissed.

He didn’t bother answering you with words.  One second you were standing in front of him, chest heaving, eyes burning, and the next his hand shot out and yanked you down onto his lap. You let out a sharp gasp, palms flying to his shoulders, and before you could push off, he twisted his body and pinned you underneath him on the couch. Your back collided with the cushion, coat open wide and legs spread by the force of his hips between yours. The position was too familiar. Too natural. Your body molded to it like it had been waiting.

His hands were on either side of your head, arms caging you in, tank top still sticking to his chest as sweat clung to both of you now. His eyes locked on yours, and his voice dropped to that lethal hush that always came before you lost all control. “I’mma tell you this one time an one time only,” he said, inches from your mouth. “Don’t put ya fuckin’ hands on me.”

You glared up at him, refusing to shrink beneath the weight of him. “You act like I’m supposed to forget all the shit you did and let you talk to me crazy just ‘cause your dick big,” you spat.

He leaned in closer, nose nearly brushing yours. “It ain’t just my dick that got you showin’ up in the middle of the night dressed like a whore.”

Your hand flew up to slap him again, but he caught it mid-air, fingers tightening around your wrist before pushing it back into the cushion above your head. 

“You think I ain’t peep that lil’ lingerie set?” he sneered. “That coat. Them heels. Walkin’ up to my door like a treat I ain’t earned. Baby, I own this pussy. Don’t matter what I say or do, you’ll always come back to me.”

“You don’t own shit!” you shouted, twisting beneath him. “I let you fuck me, that doesn’t mean you get to treat me like this—”

“You begged me,” he growled. “Ain’t no lettin’ me. You need me!”

“You need me!” you screamed back. “You're just too scared to say it!”

That cracked something open as Stack dropped his weight against you in one hard push, hips pressing into yours, and kissed you so fiercely it felt like a car crash. This kiss was lip bruising and tongue invading. The kind of kiss that destroyed logic and rebuilt it in his name. Your free hand clawed at his back. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging your head back so he could bite your bottom lip, breath mixing with yours, teeth scraping, mouths cussing between kisses.

“Stupid-ass bitch,” he gasped against your throat.

“Piece of shit motherfucker,” you panted, grinding up against him through your soaked panties.

His hips jerked at the friction, letting out a ragged breath that vibrated against the side of your neck. His teeth grazed the skin just below your jaw, not biting yet, just dragging slow like he was thinking about it. Like he wanted to leave a trail of bruises so deep even your next lifetime would know who you belonged to.

Your back arched off the couch, legs spreading wider without permission and heels digging into the cushions for leverage. The trench coat had bunched beneath you, and the lingerie clung to your body like second skin, sheer and stretched and soaked straight through.

Stack pressed his forehead to yours, eyes burning, breaths coming through his nose like he was holding back something ugly and hungry. “You think anybody else could handle this mouth?” he hissed. “You think that nigga you cheated with could deal wit’ you screamin’ an scratchin’ like this?”

“I wasn’t screamin’ for him,” you shot back, voice wrecked. “Wasn’t scratchin’ neither.”

He grinned with cocky triumph. “‘Course you wasn’t,” he said, tongue flicking the corner of his mouth. “Cause ain’t nobody ever fucked you like me.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at his arrogance. “Unfortunately.”

His hand shot down between your legs and pressed against the damp fabric of your panties, cupping you so hard your words turned into a stuttering breath.

“Still talkin’ crazy when this pussy cryin’ for me,” he growled. “You lucky I ain’t make you beg out loud in front of my neighbors.”

“Fuck you,” you gasped, hips grinding against his palm now, unable to stop.

He pulled the fabric to the side roughly, letting the elastic snap once before sliding two fingers along your drenched lips. He didn’t push his fingers in, just dragged the tips over your clit in tight, taunting circles.

Your head dropped back, mouth falling open in a silent cry.

“Yeah,” he breathed, watching you fall apart beneath him. “That’s what I thought. Same mouth that said I wasn’t shit… now you beggin’ me to fuck it full.”

You frowned and bit down on his shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, to leave evidence and remind him that you weren’t just going to take this lying down… except that’s exactly what you were doing. Laid out under him, back pressing deep into the cushions, thighs spread, coat falling off your shoulders, heels still on. He smelled like gym sweat and pride and the type of anger that didn’t go away with time, only with friction.

He laughed quietly in your ear, voice sticky and dangerous. “A temper tantrum ain’t gon’ save you,” he said. “You came here to get used. So I’ma use you.”

“You keep acting like I didn’t let you,” you bit back, legs twitching around his waist. “Like you ever had control without me giving it to you.”

He pulled back just far enough to look at you and stare down at you like he was re-reading a sentence that pissed him off. His lips twitched and he spoke. “You really sittin’ under me talkin’ like you special,” he said, voice drenched in disbelief. “You not. You convenient pussy. Easy an familiar.”

You blinked once, and the sting in your chest made your hands curl into fists. “Right,” you scoffed. “That must be why you nutted inside me four times last time and said you felt like crying when you had to pull out of me.”

His jaw ticked, the muscles underneath his skin showing his visible frustration. 

You smirked. “Oops. Forgot I wasn’t supposed to remember shit like that, huh?”

“Bitch.”

“Asshole.”

“You know what?” he said, shaking his head, the smile on his face as ugly as it was honest. “I don’t even like you.”

“I don’t like you either,” you shot back, dragging your nails up his sides just to feel him twitch. “You think that dick of yours makes up for that trash personality.”

“Maybe it do,” he said, and shoved his hips forward once, hard enough to make the breath leave your lungs in a gasp as your eyes rolled back for a moment. “Cause it got you showin’ up like a damn junkie beggin’ for another hit.”

You sucked in air through your teeth, hands gripping the cushions beneath you, anger and want tangling together until they both combined into needy desire. Your chest rose and fell hard, sweat slicking your skin, hair sticking to your temples.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Elias,” you shot back, voice strained but biting. “You ain’t special either. You are nothing but a placeholder until I find someone better.”

Way to go, that was the straw that finally broke the camels back.

Something in Stack’s expression shifted. It was quieter and dangerous as the amusement drained from his eyes, and replaced itself with something focused and tired of the back-and-forth. He straightened over you, hands braced on either side of your head, studying your face like he was deciding how best to break you without touching you at all.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m done arguin’.”

Before you could respond, his hands went to your shoulders and dragged the trench coat down your arms, fabric sliding rough against your heated skin. You barely had time to register the cool air hitting your chest before he yanked the coat free completely and tossed it aside like trash. His attention dropped to the lace beneath, cherry red and vibrant against your skin.

His mouth curled. “Real cute,” he muttered. “Shame you think you get to keep this.” He hooked his fingers into the straps at your shoulders and pulled hard. The lace protested before it stretched and tore with a sharp rip that echoed too loud in the room.

Your breath caught. “Stack—”

“Oops,” he said flatly, not sorry in the slightest. He tore the rest away in quick, ruthless motions, fabric shredding under his hands until there was nothing left but scraps clinging uselessly to your hips. “Ain’t nobody else need to see you in this.”

Heat flared through you, equal parts fury and arousal. “You don’t get to decide that!”

He leaned down, face close enough that his nose brushed yours, eyes dark and unblinking. “Just did. Don’t like it, then leave.”

Then he pushed your knees apart wider and slid down the couch, grip firm on your thighs as he repositioned you exactly how he wanted. Your back arched instinctively, skin buzzing and legs trembling as he settled between them. The sight of him there, his broad shoulders filling the space, hands steady, and jaw set made your stomach twist tight.

He looked up at you once more. “Don’t make a fuckin’ sound,” he said quietly, accent thickening, voice sharp with warning. “Tired of hearin’ that mouth.”

You let out a breathless laugh. “You know that I can’t—”

His mouth met you without mercy. You didn’t even get to finish the sentence before his tongue pressed flat against you, licking up the mess you had made just by thinking about him. The laughter on your tongue died instantly, strangled into silence as your back twisted off the couch, hands scrambling to grip anything that would hold you down.

He didn’t ease into eating you out. There was no building or softness, just Stack’s reckless mouth moving like he had been waiting two months to remind you who the fuck you belonged to. Every lick felt personal and every swirl of his tongue was laced with malice and memory.

And then a sound that was small, high and involuntary broke loose from your throat. His head lifted and one eyebrow arched. You barely had time to blink before his palm came down hard on the inside of your thigh. The slap echoed like a gunshot in the room, heat blossoming where his hand struck.

You cried out in surprise, but quickly slapped your own hand over your mouth.

“Thought I said quiet,” he said without lifting his voice. “You act like you don’t remember how to fuckin’ listen.”

Then he dove back in, tongue flicking fast against your clit, lips sealing around it, sucking once more and just when you felt another moan building, another slap landed on the other thigh. This one was harder and stinged with correction. 

You jerked under him and whined. “Stack—”

Smack.

“You don’t follow my rules, you get punished,” he said against your flesh. “Ain’t nothin’ changed.”

You tried again and bit down on your knuckle. You squeezed your eyes shut and dug your heels into the couch cushion before lifting your hips as if that might help, as if meeting his mouth halfway would take the edge off. But Stack wasn’t letting up. His tongue flicked with devastating accuracy, and just when you thought he might give you a break—smack. Another hit. This time lower, right under the curve of your ass.

You whimpered, unable to hold it in.

“Every time you make a sound, sweetheart,” he said without pausing, “I’mma hit you harder.”

Another moan, this one sharper.

Smack.

Your thighs were shaking now, red and stinging, your body caught somewhere between unbearable pleasure and brutal discipline. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you open wider, mouth locked in place like he had nowhere else to be but right there, destroying you slowly, thoroughly, deliberately.

This went on for three minutes and then he just abruptly stopped. The sudden absence hit harder than any slap. Your hips jerked, chasing what disappeared, a broken sound spilling out before you could trap it.

Stack lifted his head and stared at you, mouth slick, eyes flat. “Still loud,” he said. Not angry. Just done. “Guess I gotta give you somethin’ worth all that noise.”

He rose to his feet without another word and left the living room.

You laid on his couch exposed, legs trembling, chest heaving, and skin still burning from where he had hit you. The quiet was unbearable and every second that passed amplified how you could feel your body screaming for contact while your mind spun in frantic circles, wondering what he was about to do.

You barely had time to gather yourself before he came back. Stack re-entered the room already stripping his soaked shirt over his head, fabric peeling off his skin and tossed aside carelessly. Sweat glistened across his chest and shoulders, muscles flexing as he rolled his neck once, twice, like he was resetting himself. Like he was preparing for work.

In his hand was a small black bullet vibrator. Your breath stuttered and he didn’t look at you right away. Instead, he bent down and picked up your phone from where it had slid onto the floor earlier. His thumb flicked the screen awake. One glance at the contact list. One name.

He smirked.

“Damn,” he muttered. “You really do keep trophies.”

“Stack,” you warned weakly.

He ignored you as he tapped the screen. The FaceTime ring tone filled the room, sharp and intrusive, bouncing off the walls. Your stomach dropped and the screen lit up with Calling…

He set the phone on the coffee table, angled just right so you could see it, so you could hear it. Then he crouched between your legs again, calm as an undisturbed river.

“Relax,” he said quietly. “The nigga ain’t answer yet.”

The ringing continued and your heart pounded so hard it made you feel light headed.

“Hang it up before he answers,” you snapped. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He leaned in close, voice low and even. “Teachin’ you how to shut up.”

Your skin crawled in anticipation, heat crawled up your neck, and your chest rose unevenly as you tried to keep still beneath the weight of that voice… That intent. One more ring came through the speaker of your phone before that dreaded FaceTime Connected sound blasted loudly. You gulped as the screen went to a live, front-facing video of the man you cheated on Stack with. 

His room was half-lit and he was sitting shirtless on a couch, blinking in confusion as he stared into the camera. “Hello…?” he said, rubbing his face. “Yo—who the fuck—?”

Stack didn’t even look up from between your thighs. “Bitch-ass nigga,” he said dryly, thumb still resting on the power button of the vibrator but not moving it yet. “What’s good?”

The man’s face twisted instantly. “Huh? Who the fuck is this? Where my girl at?”

You tried to sit up, panic flooding your body in waves, but Stack’s hand landed on your stomach, pushing you back into the couch like your body belonged to the furniture.

“She busy,” Stack said casually. “But I figured since you was so damn memorable, I’d let you watch how it’s really done.”

“Stack,” you hissed through gritted teeth, trying to grab the phone. “Turn that shit off—”

Stack pressed the vibrator directly onto your clit and your whole body bucked. The sound that flew from your mouth wasn’t human.

“That’s my woman!” your ex shouted, his jaw tightening on the screen. “You really went back to that fuck nigga? After everything he did? Have you lost your mind?”

Stack’s laugh rang through his living room like an angelic melody.  “Nah,” he said, keeping pressure on the toy with his palm as he looked directly into your pleading eyes. “You must’ve lost yours thinkin’ she actually belonged to you.”

You weakly slapped him on the chest. “E-Elias! H-Hang up!”

He shoved your thigh wider, eyes narrowing, tone turning darker.  “Nah,” he growled. “You wanted to be mouthy tonight. This the price.”

“Aye, fuck you, bruh,” the ex barked, voice rising now. “You outta pocket. Who the fuck even are you?”

“I’m the nigga that you’ll never be,” Stack fired back. “I’m the reason she won’t be answering ya texts anymore. I’m the reason she drippin’ all over my couch right now.”

“You sound real comfortable behind a screen, bitch,” the man snapped.

Stack finally looked up, sweat glistening across his chest, muscles flexing as he tightened his hold on the toy that was now pulsing rhythmically against your most sensitive spot. “I am comfortable,” he said into the screen, his voice calm and cruel, Southern syllables slithering out like a threat made of silk and blood. “I’m sittin’ on my own couch, shirt off, dick hard, while my bitch squirmin’ under me.”

You let out a strangled moan, hips bucking against the toy, one hand grasping at the armrest above your head while the other curled uselessly at your side. The vibrator buzzed in relentless, brutal circles against your clit, sending fresh waves of heat crashing down your spine like tidal water laced with shame.

Stack didn’t spare you another glance. His eyes were locked on the screen. The tight smirk on his lips made it clear, he wasn’t just speaking to your ex. He was performing. Declaring. Marking his territory with his chest out and his toy buried between your trembling thighs.

“You ever see her like this?” Stack asked, brows raised, tone sharp and casual like he was talking over a card game. “Nah. You ain’t never earned this.”

“Stack—fuck—I can’t—” your voice cracked, high and shuddering.

He looked down at you then and he saw everything. The tremble in your lip, the glassiness in your eyes, the way your thighs jerked with every pass of the toy, and how your back lifted off the couch like your body was seconds from coming completely undone. You were close, too close. Closer than he wanted anyone else to see you. 

Stack’s jaw ticked once, then he reached forward and ended the call.

Click.

The screen went black and he tossed the phone behind him like it wasn’t worth another second of his attention before looking back down at you. His woman. Spread out beneath him completely ruined and needy without him fucking you yet. On the edge of something too raw for pride to interrupt.

“Ion’ share,” he said simply, voice low, dragging and thick with possession. “Not even that part.”

Your hips jerked again, thighs trembling as you choked on another moan, but he didn’t let up. He pressed the toy harder on your clit, the rhythm brutal, your orgasm so close it felt like static in your veins.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

You tried but you couldn’t stop your eyelids from fluttering. The pleasure was pulling you under too fast, forcing your mouth to hang open on a sound you couldn’t hold back.

“Look. At. Me.”

Finally your eyes met his and your body shattered as your climax hit like a car crash. Your legs clamped around his wrist, hips bucking, every muscle locking and twitching as the orgasm tore through you. You screamed without sound, hands digging into the cushions like you were trying not to disappear through the floor. Your whole body convulsed under his hand, thighs shaking violently, tears slipping down your cheeks as you rode it out in full view of the only man who could ever drag something like this out of you.

Stack just watched silently. His lips twitched into a smirk as you finally collapsed with your chest heaving like you had just run a mile. “That’s what the fuck I thought,” he said, pulling the toy back and tossing it to the floor like he was done with his appetizer and finally ready for the main meal.

You blinked up at him, dazed with your mascara streaked and body wrecked. But still there was that look in your eye. A bratty little spark that never died.

Stack saw it and his smirk deepened. He hovered over you, his breath heavy and hot as it poured down across your flushed face. His bare chest gleamed in the dim light, the scent of sweat and satisfaction clinging to his skin like warpaint. His forearms caged your head back in place, and he was far from finished.

You could feel his desire for you pressing right against your inner thigh. His dick jumped with excitement as his swollen tip left streaks of precum across your skin. Every inch of him hovered above you, commanding and still, like a beast watching his prey blink back into focus after the first strike.

“You look like you seen a ghost,” he said quietly, one brow raising. “That lil’ nut took it outta you?”

You swallowed. “You act like you didn’t just try to kill me.”

He leaned down, mouth brushing your ear, and dragged his words across your skin like teeth. “That nigga still breathin’. I was bein’ nice.”

Your eyes shut closed, breath catching as his hips pressed lower, the weight of him grinding against your bare center.

“But since you still wanna act like a mouthy lil’ bitch,” he continued, voice calm and sharp, “we can do this the other way.” Your thighs squeezed reflexively. He chuckled, deep and full of filth. “Ahh… there she go. Actin’ like she don’t love when I talk to her like this.”

You wanted to tell him to shut up. You wanted to say something mean and nasty, just to keep up the tension, just to keep the game going. But your mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Your brain was still recovering from the overload he gave you. All you could do was lie there, stripped bare of pride, heart hammering, and thighs still shaking in that aftershock rhythm.

He bit down on his bottom lip as his hands tugged your ruined panties down the rest of the way and off your ankles. His fingers trailed down the curves of your thighs with a sick kind of admiration, like he was preparing a meal he had waited too long to devour. His gaze dipped down between your legs, and he let out a low breath.

“Still twitchin’,” he groaned. “You that fucked up already? Two months without Daddy got you this sensitive?”

You managed a weak, bratty laugh. “Please. I’m just getting warmed up.”

He looked at you then and that trademark Stack expression spread across his lips like a storm: proud, annoyed, aroused, and possessive.

“Cute,” he said. “You still talkin’ like you in control.”

He spit into his hand before palming his dick and giving it a few tugs. Veins wrapping down his brown shaft like he was built to destroy and nothing else. He had the kind of dick that made your mouth water and your eyes widen. The kind of dick that made your thighs instinctively shift apart to make room even when your body was already shaking from everything he had just done.

“Turn over,” he ordered. “Face in the cushion. Ass up.”

You unintentionally hesitated and Stack was on you in an instant, flipping your body like you weighed nothing. He grabbed your hips and dragged them up until your knees sank into the couch and your ass arched high, back bowed, face buried in the cushion like a punishment.

“Yeah,” he praised, voice thick now, tone changing. “This how I like it. This how I missed it.”

His hands roamed down your back like they were retracing territory that had been stolen from him. His palms dragged along the curve of your spine, heat radiating through his fingers like fire looking for somewhere to catch. He gripped your waist again tighter this time before his thumbs pressed into the dips just above your ass as if molding you into the position he wanted, not what you thought you could give.

You were open and vulnerable in a way that should’ve made you ashamed, but all it did was make your walls flutter around nothing, already begging for him. Stack’s length slid between your swollen lips, heavy and dragging through the mess he just made, tip nudging your entrance without going in. And he just held it there as he let his possessiveness fester.

You could feel it before he said anything. How it boiled in his skin, pulsing behind his grip. That jealousy he never liked to admit. That quiet rage tucked beneath the bravado. It was all there, swelling under the surface, waiting for an excuse to come out and you were the perfect excuse.

His voice dropped lower and rougher. “You gave him this?” he asked, hips pressing forward just enough for the head to breach, then pull back again.

You opened your mouth to speak and swallowed the words back down.

“You let him touch what I broke in?”

You swallowed hard, face still buried in the cushion. “It wasn’t like that—”

“Don’t lie to me.” His hand came down hard on your tender ass, palm stinging against your skin, the sound loud and final. You jolted beneath him, a gasp falling out of your mouth before you could catch it.

Stack’s hand stayed there, firm and heavy like a silent warning. “You got me fucked up thinkin’ I’m just another nigga in rotation,” he said, grinding the tip against your entrance. “This mine. You don’t get to hand this shit out like clearance candy.”

Your hips jerked back on instinct, chasing the contact, the friction lighting you up in a way that made your thoughts scatter. The denial sat sharp in your chest, equal parts anger and need, and it made your voice come out reckless. “You don’t get to say that,” you shot back, breath uneven and fingers bunching the cushion beneath your cheek. “You don’t get to claim shit when you disappear whenever it suits you.”

His grip tightened, it was hard enough to make your body register it as a command. He leaned in, chest pressing along your spine and heat seeping through you like a warning flare. “I get to say and do whatever I want,” he replied, accent thickening, words cruel and dangerous. “You still spreadin’ yourself open for me.”

You sucked in a sharp breath as he rolled his hips again, the head of him dragging through you with maddening patience. It felt like he was tracing your outline, memorizing every reaction and cataloging every twitch like proof.

“See that?” he continued, voice low near your ear. “That little shake. That’s you rememberin’.”

“I remember you lying,” you snapped, still bratting, still biting even as your knees trembled. “I remember you saying you’d be back and not showing up.”

His hand slid from your ass to your hip, fingers digging in, holding you steady. “An I remember you answerin’ texts you shouldn’t have,” he countered. “I remember you lettin’ another nigga think he had access.”

The tip pressed in a fraction, then retreated. Again. Again. Each time closer, each time crueler.

“You still wanna argue?” he asked softly. “We can argue like this all night, baby.”

Stack nudged forward just enough to make you gasp, not enough to satisfy, then pulled back again, leaving you empty and aching. Your thighs shook. A sound threatened to escape, and you bit it back, teeth sinking into the cushion. A quiet sound slid out of his chest as his hand left your hip and slipped beneath your thighs, fingers spreading you wider, lifting just enough to change the angle and steal what little balance you had left. The shift sent a sharp jolt through you, heat pooling fast and heavy. His thumb brushed your bundle of nerves once, feather‑light, like an accident he planned from the start.

“There it is,” he said, voice calm, almost patient. “That little twitch. You still wanna talk?”

You didn’t want to give Stack the satisfaction of giving up so easily as your mouth opened with something sharp lined up, something mean and clever, something that would keep the fight alive. Instead, another broken sound slipped out, thin and helpless, and you hated yourself for it.

He smiled without looking at your face. His thumb circled your clit again, firmer now, tracing slow, taunting paths that made your toes curl and your back bow deeper. You could feel him pressing into you at the same time, the head of him thick and insistent, slicker now. The heat of it pulsed against your inner walls, and you felt the telltale warmth spread where he leaked into you, sticky and undeniable.

“I know you feel that,” he taunted, almost conversational. “That’s from me bein’ backed up an irritated.”

Your breath came uneven, chest dragging air like it wasn’t enough. “You always gotta make everything a fight.”

He laughed quietly. “You the one who won’t shut up.”

His thumb pressed harder, just enough pressure to make you see stars. You tried to pull away, more reflex than plan, and his grip tightened instantly, fingers locking you in place.

“Uh‑uh,” he warned. “Stay.”

Your hips betrayed you, rocking back into his hand, chasing the contact even as your pride burned hot. He felt that too as he leaned in closer, chest brushing your back, voice dropping lower and heavier.

“Finish sayin’ whatever bullshit you had ready so I can finally fuck you proper,” he said. “Go on. Get it out.”

“I hate how you do this,” you managed, words breaking apart. “You act like you don’t care and then—then you—”

His thumb swept just right, and the sentence died in your throat. “An then I what? Huh? What does Daddy do to you?” he prompted, pressing into you again, letting more of that heat spill inside. You felt it this time, unmistakable, his need leaking into you as much as yours was pulling him in.

“And then you make me forget why I’m mad,” you admitted, breathless and angry at yourself for it.

“That’s what I thought,” he said.

His hand moved with more purpose now, thumb working steady, fingers lifting your thighs higher to keep you open, exposed. He didn’t rush you. He didn’t let you drift. He kept you right there, suspended, arguing with him in half‑sentences and broken sounds while your body told the truth for you. The truth was, despite everything, you were his. You hated him. You wanted him. You were brattier than he could stand, and he was meaner than you could handle, and yet, here you were, strung out on his touch.

Stack kept his hand between your thighs until your legs trembled, until your head dropped forward, until the only sound leaving your lips was a strangled whimper. Then when you were back on the edge of no return, he pulled his hand away, and slammed himself into you with no warning.

You sobbed with delight from the sudden fullness, your hands clawing for anything to steady you as he bottomed out inside you, all that leaked frustration now buried deep in your walls, throbbing with each brutal inch.

His breath left him in a grunt. “Fuck.” All the anger, all the months of silence, the imagined visions of you with someone else, the ache of missing you but being too damn prideful to admit it… it all hit at once.

Stack gripped your hips like they were handles and dragged you back onto his dick with vicious, hungry strokes. His rhythm was punishing, each thrust landing like he was carving his name into you from the inside.

“You don’t get to leave me like that,” he growled, sweat rolling down his spine, skin slapping yours in loud, wet echoes that filled the room. “You don’t get to walk out, give this shit to somebody else, then come back actin’ like I owe you a soft welcome.”

You cried out beneath him, head dropping, arms collapsing beneath you.

“Couldn’t even breathe without thinkin’ about this pussy,” he spat, pace never slowing, dick punching into you with a rhythm that forced your body to comply. “Had me losin’ sleep. Dreamin’ ‘bout you. Wakin’ up hard, mad as hell I ain’t hate you enough to let it go.”

Your only answer was a cry that was raw and desperate and torn from your chest as his grip tightened and his body crowded yours. The couch groaned beneath you both, cushions dipping with every drive of his hips, the room filling with the sound of skin meeting skin and the rough drag of breath you couldn’t steady. Your thoughts scattered. Every time you tried to form a word, he stole it back with another thrust, deeper, firmer, and claiming space inside you like he was filling the silence he had carried for months.

He leaned in, chest pressed to your back, sweat slicking you together. His forearm slid beneath your thighs again, lifting, changing the angle, making everything feel sharper and closer all at once. The pressure bloomed, hot and demanding, and you felt how wet you were around him, how you took him without hesitation despite every argument you had thrown like knives.

“Say somethin’,” he urged, voice rough at your ear. “Say you hear me.”

“I hear you,” you managed, words breaking apart as your hips betrayed you, pushing back to meet him. “I hear all of it.”

He answered by setting a pace that made your legs tremble. His hand slid from your hip to your stomach, fingers spreading, holding you still when your body tried to run ahead of him. Then everything shifted as he hauled you up and over in one fluid motion, strength effortless, like he had been waiting for this angle the whole damn time. Your back hit the couch cushions again, breath spilling out of you as he folded you in on yourself, thighs pressed tight to your chest, knees hooked over his shoulders. Your body bent and open, nowhere to hide, nowhere to look but straight at him.

“Eyes on me,” he said, already there, already lined up.

His legs planted wide on either side of the couch, muscles locked, stance solid as he drove back into you. The change left you breathless and getting fucked like this felt different. Every thrust felt deeper and louder in your body. Every stroke pushed something loose inside you. Every pullback made your toes curl as he came right back in again, hammering with intent and with all that pent‑up frustration he had been carrying since you guys broke up.

You grabbed at his forearms, fingers digging in, nails leaving marks you would see tomorrow and pretend not to remember.

“Look at you,” he said, breath heavy now, eyes dark and fixed on your face. “Tryna argue with me when this how you fold.”

“I hate you,” you said, but it came out thin, breathless, wrecked by the way he filled you.

He smiled and let out a chuckle. “Say it with your eyes,” he told you, thrusting harder, hips snapping forward until the couch thudded against the wall. “Say you ain’t been thinkin’ ‘bout this every night.”

Your gaze locked with his, pupils blown, jaw tight as another wave rolled through you. You nodded once, sharp and helpless.

“Good,” he said. “Don’t lie to me now.”

His grip shifted, hands sliding under your thighs, lifting you higher, folding you tighter until the stretch made your muscles burn. His legs braced, powerful, keeping him steady as he drove into you again and again, each stroke landing right where you were weakest.

The couch creaked under both of you, the rhythm harsh and unforgiving. You couldn’t catch your breath and your body was coiled so tight it felt like you were unraveling one nerve at a time. Stack didn’t let up. He didn’t blink. Didn’t soften. His eyes tracked every tremor, every twitch, like he was reading a code only your body could write. But then a wave of tightness squeezed his dick and he paused for just a second as his brows lifted.

“You tryna cum again?” he asked, words like smoke curling off a live wire. “Hmm? This dick got you feelin’ good?”

You whined and nodded as your thighs shook and clit throbbed in time with your heartbeat. He smirked and then spit. Thick and hot, the trail of it landing right between where you were joined. It dripped down, sticky and warm, and made your whole body jolt.

“Ight,” he said, the edge in his voice cutting deep. “I been doin’ all the work. Rub it out. Right now. Make a mess of that pussy.”

Your hand trembled as you reached down, fingers slipping between your folds, circling that swollen bundle like it owed you something. It was too much to handle with his dick buried inside of you, the way he held you there, stuffed full and stretched wide, and the filthy slick sound of everything between you amplified by spit and slick and need.

Your other hand reached out on instinct, bracing against the only thing that felt real, Stack’s lower stomach, firm and warm, rippling under your palm.

“Uh uh,” he warned, eyes narrowing with something darker. “Move that hand.”

You froze.

“Get that hand off my stomach an keep rubbin’ that clit.”

“I—I just needed—”

“You need to follow directions,” he cut in, voice sharp enough to leave marks. “Wanna cum so bad, but can’t even keep ya hands to yourself.”

You whimpered again, dragging your hand back to your side, focus breaking from the ache to the heat in his tone. But you didn’t stop touching yourself. You couldn’t. The pressure was too much.

“Daddy,” you whispered, desperate now, hoping the nickname might soften something, anything. “Please, Daddy—”

His face didn’t move. He didn’t show not even a flicker of sympathy. His jaw stayed tight, eyes fixed on your face like he saw through the plea and down into the part of you that was trying to manipulate him. “Oh now I’m Daddy again?” he asked, not amused. “You only call me that when you want somethin’.”

Stack held you there, folded and full, letting the words hang heavy while your body kept betraying you. You could feel it happening anyway, the way you clenched around him, the way your clit twitched beneath your fingers like it had a mind of its own. Heat spread and pooled, slick gathering faster than you could control. It leaked down, warm and shameless, making a soft sound every time he pressed deeper.

“There it is,” he said, voice cutting, eyes tracking the way your body responded. “Be a perfect lil’ slut an make a mess on me.” 

You bit down hard on your bottom lip, breath coming apart. “I—I—I—”

“Don’t tell me you can’t,” he cut in, rolling his hips just enough to make you gasp. “I can feel you. You grippin’ me like you scared I’m gon’ leave.”

He leaned in closer, one hand braced by your shoulder, the other steadying your thigh so you couldn’t close. His gaze never left your face as he spoke, like he wanted you to hear every word right as it landed. “Go on,” he taunted softly. “Rub it just like that. Small circles. Squeeze that pussy an cum for me.”

Your fingers obeyed, trembling, slick sounds filling the space between your bodies. The sensation climbed sharp and bright, making your toes curl and your back bow tighter. You could feel yourself leaking more now, heat spilling as the pressure built.

“That’s it,” he said. “See how wet you get when you stop arguin’?”

Your mouth opened on a sound you couldn’t stop, eyes squeezing shut as your hips jerked.

“Eyes open,” he ordered, tightening his grip. “I wanna see it.”

You forced them open, meeting his stare just as your body tipped closer to the edge. The look in his eyes was dark and intent, not cruel now, just focused, like he was guiding you through something inevitable.

“You right there,” he continued, voice steady, almost instructional. “That shake in your legs? That’s it comin’ on. Don’t fight it.”

Your breathing turned uneven, chest rising fast. “Stack, E-Elias— D-Daddy I—”

“Let it happen,” he said. “You leakin’ like that ‘cause you want it. ‘Cause ya body know where it belong.”

Stack watched you the whole time. He watched the way your brows knit, the way your mouth tried to hold back sound and failed, the way your thighs quivered against his forearms as he kept you folded and open.

“Mmmhmm,” he murmured, eyes narrowing as another shudder rolled through you. “There it is...”

You tried to speak again and couldn’t. Your fingers slick and shining kept moving just like he told you, small circles that tightened the pressure until it felt like your body was winding itself into a knot. The couch creaked as he drove in again, not harder, just deeper, making the fullness bloom and hold.

“Good,” he said, catching the hitch in your breath before it broke. “Stay with it. Don’t pull away now.”

Your head fell back against the cushion, eyes glassy as the heat climbed and hovered, bright and unbearable. The leaking turned into a steady spill, warmth spreading as your muscles constricted and grabbed without permission.

“That’s it,” he coached, tone unwavering. “You right on top of it. You ain’t gotta say nothin’. Just cum for me.”

The last sentence tipped you over. Your body seized and shook, legs drawing tight as the release tore through you in long, rolling waves. A sound finally escaped, broken and honest, as you rode it out, breath stuttering while he held you exactly where you were, steady and present through every tremor.

Stack stayed buried deep, letting you finish on him, letting your body milk every last aftershock without interruption. He watched your face as it happened, watched the way your jaw slackened and your eyes glazed, watched the way your fingers curled uselessly at his forearms like you needed something solid to keep from floating away.

When the shaking eased and your breath finally found a rhythm again, he shifted and the change pulled a startled sound from you, oversensitive and spent, and that’s when he finally let himself react. A low groan rolled out of his chest, rough and dragged straight from his gut as hips started to move again with intent that had nothing left to prove to you and everything to prove to himself.

“Ight,” he said, voice strained now, edges fraying. “My turn.”

He adjusted his stance, legs planting wider, muscles tightening as he set a pace meant for him. Each thrust was full and claiming, the kind that dragged sensation from your spine down to your toes even though you were already wrung out. You felt how hard he was, how slick he had made you both, how his control shifted from instruction to hunger.

His hand slid to your hip, fingers digging in possessively. “Look at you,” he taunted. “Two times an you still takin’ me like you ain’t tired.”

You tried to answer and couldn’t. Your body answered for you, soft and open and still welcoming every drive.

“That’s what get me,” he went on, breath uneven, jaw tight. “You talk all that shit but ain’t nobody else gettin’ this. Ain’t nobody else see you like this an live to tell it.”

His rhythm grew heavier, more insistent, the couch rocking beneath you both. He leaned in, forehead brushing yours, eyes locked on your face like he needed to see exactly who he was finishing with.

“You mine tonight,” he said, ego flaring as the pressure built. “Say it.”

You could barely form a thought, let alone a word, but that didn’t stop your lips from parting, voice raw and sweet from overuse. “I’m yours.”

That was all Stack needed to hear before a growl tore from his throat like it had been caged too long. His grip shifted, possessive hands dragging your hips down to meet every bruising thrust. The sound of your skin meeting and the sloshing of your wetness filled the room but he didn’t let up. He fucked you like it was the last time. Like someone might steal you if he didn’t leave his mark in every damn place they could reach. Like he had been starving for months and your body was the only meal worth waiting for.

“That’s right,” he gritted out, voice rough and strangled now. “Say it again. Say who this pussy belong to.”

You tried to speak again but all you managed was a broken moan and his name on a breath that sounded more like worship than surrender. Stack leaned over you, sweat dripping down the angle of his neck. His chest heaved, body strung tight with all that possessive rage simmering just beneath his skin.

He spat on his fingers before sliding them on your overworked clit again while he kept pounding into you, each stroke hitting deeper than the last, chasing his own high now with no regard for mercy.

“Say it.”

“Y-you—E-Elias, it’s yours—it’s always been—”

“Damn right,” he snapped, body trembling now. “Ain’t no other motherfucker ever gonna touch what’s mine. Not ever again!”

And then you felt it, that slight hitch in his movement, that drop in control, and that telltale sign that he was seconds away from losing every ounce of composure he had left.

Your legs gave out as you had finally reached your own limit for the third time tonight and were done fighting it. “D-DADDY—”

“I know,” he breathed, voice breaking. “I know, baby.”

He slammed into you one last time and stayed there, everything in him going rigid as he spilled inside you, warmth flooding your insides in waves. His jaw tensed, teeth bared, and his breathing became heavy as he heaved through flared nostrils while his orgasm tore through him. And he stayed buried in your pussy like it was his second home. Arms braced around your trembling thighs, eyes locked to yours even as they narrowed from the intensity.

Stack stayed buried deep, twitching inside you, body refusing to move even after the worst of it had passed. His breath came ragged now, chest rising like bellows, nostrils wide, jaw still locked like he didn’t trust what might come out if he opened his mouth too soon. Sweat beaded at his temples, rolled down the line of his neck, dripping onto your collarbone like proof that he had left every drop of himself inside you.

He moved, barely, but just enough to lean forward and press a kiss to your forehead, and even that felt like a threat wrapped in tenderness. His weight dipped, elbows framing your head as his palms flattened beside your shoulders. His hips jerked once, deep and involuntary, and it pulled a gasp from both of you. Yours was softer, stunned; his like he was mad sex with you still felt this good even after the fight, even after the mess.

Your fingers moved instinctively, trying to remold his damp waves back into place, trying to soften him, but he didn’t want soft from you. Not yet.

“Uh-uh,” he warned, grabbing your wrist and pinning it down to the cushion beside your head. “You don’t get to touch me all sweet and pretend like you ain’t start this shit.”

You squinted your eyes ready to rebuttal his claims, but he tilted his head, eyes sharp, daring you to test him again. “I said you mine,” he breathed. “You’ve been claimed. Ain’t no goin’ back. Not after this.”

He pulled back just enough to look between your bodies and see the creamy mess already starting to spill from where you were stretched around him, at the obscene mix of arousal and release that soaked both your thighs and glistened in the low light. He groaned under his breath, rough and pained.

Then without warning, he rolled his hips again, slow but deep, grinding his softening dick inside you like he wanted to push everything back in.

“Still fuckin’ twitchin’,” he said, eyes narrowing again. “Greedy ass pussy… We got two more rounds left before I forgive you. Turn over again, baby.”

.

.

.

.

.

Author's Note: Let's just pretend I haven't been withholding these updates again *cough* I'll be back 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️

[eunoiadoll]

゛ᢉ𐭩 ⸝⸝⋆ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄 — “you so fuckin greedy for me”

꒰ babydaddy elias “stack” moore x black!fem reader. established relationship. 18+ possessive, breeding kink, filth, stack’s nasty ass mouth. ꒱

yall were supposed to be done.

your legs was shaking, thighs was burning, your voice gone from the way you’d been begging him to slow down — only to cry when he finally pulled out, leaving you empty and aching.

stack would of thought you’d been tap out by now. should’ve let him clean you up, let him roll over and light his joint like he usually did. but no, you wanted more.

you tugged at his wrist, still trembling, still raw, still messy from how he put it down.

“eli put it back in”, you whined. he raised an eyebrow in surprise, chest still rising and falling heavy, his hand still sticky where it cupped your thigh. “what?”

your lip wobbled as you shifted closer, eyes glossy. “please. put it back in.”

stack blinked slowly. his head tilted to the side and he smirked slightly, golds on display. “you so fuckin greedy for me”, he murmured, dragging his fingers down your slightly full belly, tracing lazy circles around your skin.

“didn’t i just tell you that’s how you gon end up pregnant again?” you huffed, hands gripping his biceps, pulling him closer towards you. “i don’t care”

that made him pause. his jaw clenched, that little muscle flexing like he was holding himself back. “you can’t just say stuff like that, mama”. his voice warning, but soft, like he was trying to stay calm but already folding for you.

you felt him twitch against you, “you serious baby?” your lips parted to say something, but your brain was too fuzzy to let out words. you nodded.

his head dropped to your shoulder as he sunk back into you. sharp moans coming from the both of you, since it wasn’t long before the last orgasm.

his breath was hot against your neck as he left sloppy kisses, grinding into you slowly. “you want me to leave you full, huh? walkin round carryin my baby. a reminder to everyone you mine.”

you let out small babbles of agreement, bucking your hips against his, chasing the heat that curled deep in your belly.

“say it”, he demanded, lifting his head, his eyes low and golds flashing. “say you want me to nut all in this pussy and put another baby in you.”

you didn’t hesitate. “i want it, elias. i want you to.”

that broke him.

“fuck mama.” he groaned, his rhythm picking up, harder, deeper, meaner, like he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. “so fuckin reckless. you love when i do this to you.”

your hands scratched his back, your body arching into his like you couldn’t get close enough.

between his words and the way he was hitting your sweet spot, your body was on fire. “them titties gon be heavy again. fuck you gon look so beautiful.” he was rambling now, the possibility of you pregnant again taking over him.

you sobbed his name, clinging onto him as your orgasm ripped through you. “look at you”, he whispered, fingers rapidly flicking at your clit to make you gush again. “so fuckin messy. this pussy so greedy, wetting my dick all up and still not letting me go.”

you were fucked out of your mind, no words came out. all you could do was let him chase his high and take what he was giving you.

his heavy balls was soaked as they slapped against you with each thrust. “i’m bout to nut mama.” you whimpered at the feeling of him swelling inside you.

he snarled as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, hips pressed tightly against yours. cum spilling inside your womb exactly the way you begged him to.

A/N : i’m not sure if i like this🫩. i’m just practicing my writing of smut yall idk. pt2 of “happy father’s day” coming soon.

[youronebraincell]

Weekend lover pt 2

Beth Dutton x Fem!Reader x Rip Wheeler

Warnings: Forced Proximity, Hormones, Past Relationship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Talking About Feelings, Discussion of Abortion, Showering Together, Skinny Dipping, Kissing, Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Neck Kissing, Shameless Smut, Penis in Vagina Sex, Spit as Lube, Threesome - F/F/M, Belly Bulge, Multiple Orgasms, Double Penetration, Cunnilingus, Public Blow Jobs, Sexual Overstimulation, Voyeurism, Riding, Late Night Conversations, Sleeping Together, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word count: 6940

The aftermath of the bomb that had been dropped when you were in the hospital.

A continuation to Weekend lover pt 1

The drive back to your apartment is spent in tense silence with you in the backseat of Rip’s truck while he and his wife sat in the front. You didn’t have anyone to take you home from the hospital nor did you have the money for a cab, so here you are.

You lean your head against the window as you watch the scenery go by. At some point you decide to break the silence. “The door’s unlocked. What if I just open it right now and roll out of the car?”

Beth is so done with you that she doesn’t even have it in her to mask her annoyance. “You’re not going to throw yourself out of a moving vehicle”

When the older woman looks at you through the rearview mirror and sees you smiling mischievously back at her, she lets out a sigh then asks her husband to pullover and gets in the back with you. Rip locks the doors as a precaution afterwards.

You continue to ride in silence.

Eventually, you turn to face Beth, taking her in completely. “Your hair’s different. More blonde-ish”

She doesn’t turn to look at you when she responds. “My hair is the same shade it’s always been, Y/N”

You narrow your eyes. “Well, that can’t be true, because I vividly remember you having more ginger-ish hair when we were together”

“Maybe you need to get your eyes checked”

You roll your eyes and face forward again. You’re not crazy. You could’ve sworn that Beth’s hair had a tinge of red, just enough to be noticeable.

Just like her.

You shift and try to sit differently when your mind takes you somewhere you don’t want to be.

Beth notices from her peripheral vision, but doesn’t say anything. After a while, she finally turns to look at you. “Are you going to keep it?”

You shrug with your arms crossed over your chest while avoiding her gaze. You keep your head down.

To your surprise, she doesn’t push.

Even though that’s all you want her to do.

You look out the window again. Suddenly, you realize that you don’t recognize the route.

“Where are we going?”

Rip doesn’t glance into the rearview mirror to look at you. “We’re taking you back to your apartment”

You’re about to open your mouth to tell him he’s going the wrong way, until you remember you gave them a false address when they had first asked about it all those weeks ago. “So.. don’t hate me..”

Rip didn’t curse like you thought he would when you told them you gave them a false address. In fact, he didn’t say anything. Neither did Beth.

The silence eats at you alive as he drives to the correct address that you’ve just given them.

You lose track of how much time passes.

Day bleeds into night.

When you finally start to recognize your neighborhood, you start feeling a little less hopeless now that you’re happy to be home. That hope is snuffed out as quickly as it came when you see a fumigation tent cover your entire building.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me”

As soon as the truck comes to a stop, you unlock the door and step outside. You run up to another tenant you recognize from the building and ask her what’s happening. In the meantime, Beth and Rip step out too. They lean against the truck.

A few minutes later, you approach them.

“Pest infestation. The landlord said it’ll be at least four days till this whole thing’s over” You tsk. “First I get heatstroke,” You count on your fingers, “then I go to the hospital where I find out I’m pregnant, and also my phone’s dead and fina-fucking-ly, my whole building is in a fucking fumigation tent!”

You press the balls of your palms into your eyes and force yourself to take a much-needed breath. Afterwards, you pull your hands away and stare at the couple. You clench and unclench your jaw as you prepare to swallow your goddamn pride.

“Can I stay with you guys for a while?”

Beth stares at you, crossing her arms over her chest. “That depends. Are you going to stop with this hostility towards us and let us have a real conversation together?”

It takes a second for you to nod.

Beth opens the back door and tilts her head towards the backseat. “Get in”

You don’t need to be told twice. Once you’re seated, she slams the door shut. Well, it wasn’t really a slam, but it still made you flinch.

God. Were you always this hypersensitive or is it a pregnancy thing? You hope it’s a pregnancy thing.

Rip gets back behind the wheel while his wife sits beside him in the passenger seat. He drives off.

Just like earlier, you watch the scenery go by.

Your eyelids start to feel heavy. You struggle to keep your eyes open. At some point, you lose your fight with staying conscious and fall asleep.

When you wake up, your eyes fluttering open, you find yourself in different surroundings. Familiar ones. It doesn’t take long for you to realize you’re in Beth and Rip’s bedroom. You sit upright, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You look down at yourself and realize you’re not wearing the clothes or shoes that you fell asleep in. Other than your underwear. You’re in a worn red flannel that’s been half buttoned up. The sleeves run way past your knuckles. The hem reaches just below your ass. If you stretched, it would ride up to your hipbones.

After sniffing the collar, you confirm that the flannel is Beth’s. Her scent is embedded into it; floral and aromatic. If it was Rip’s, it would have a more grounded smell. Plus, he’s twice your size. The flannel would’ve felt like a coat on your body.

You scoot out of bed and leave the bedroom.

You walk around the house, your feet padding softly across the polished wooden floor.

You reach the kitchen and see a plate of food with a foil cover next to a knife and fork on the table. There’s a sticky note with your name on it on top of the foil. You grab it and turn it over to see ‘Drinks are in the fridge’ written on the other side. You pull out a chair and sit down to eat after putting the note aside. When you remove the cover, you’re greeted by cut flank steak, mashed potatoes and roasted broccoli on the side. You dig in almost immediately. The food’s still warm enough so you don’t have to go through the trouble of heating it up.

Halfway through your meal, you get up to get something to drink from the fridge. You grab a can of ginger ale and pour it into a glass of ice.

Afterwards, you continue eating. When you’re done, you wash the dishes and put them away.

You leave the kitchen. You find yourself at the back door. You take a deep breath before opening it.

Beth and Rip sit side by side in their respective chairs. They’re both drinking something from separate glasses. Beth takes a final sip of her drink before turning to look at you.

“Ready for that talk?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

The three of you exchange the quietness of the back porch for the comfort of the living room.

You take a seat on one end of the couch while the couple takes the other end. You deliberately put distance between you and them, drawing your legs up to your chest. You hug a pillow.

Beth is the one closest to you since she sits on the inside of the couch. She stares at you, her eyes sharp. “I’ll ask you the same question I asked you in the truck. This time, I want a different answer”

You nod, stiffly.

“Are you keeping the baby?”

“Do you want me to?”

Neither of them responds.

“Thought so” You tuck a throw pillow under your chin. “Don’t worry. I’ll get rid of it” You look at them. “Was that all you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, Y/N” Rip says, his eyes boring into yours, unflinching. You swallow thickly. “You owe us an explanation for why you left that morning”

You purse your lips. “I left because I didn’t.. I didn’t feel like I was wanted here anymore”

Beth spares a glance at her husband before speaking. “Was it because of something I said?”

“It was everything you said”

Her heart clenches at your response.

“But it wasn’t you”

Beth furrows her brow, clearly confused.

You let out a sigh. “A few years ago, I was with someone. Someone I shouldn’t have been with at the time. She kind of looked like you, but around my age. Her hair was a little more ginger than yours, but they look the same in certain lights” You take a breath. “She wasn’t.. always good. She didn’t abuse me or anything, not physically anyway, but she had this way of making me feel like I was.. small. A burden. Throughout our relationship, she kept saying that she didn’t know why she bothered with me. She said other diminishing things, but that was the one that always struck. One day, I had enough and just.. left. I didn't have any real friends and my parents.. didn’t accept me, so I got on a plane and flew halfway across the country to start a new life” You stare at Beth now. “What you said and the way you threw the dishes that day triggered me. I don’t mean to sound sensitive, but it’s the truth. You brought up some memories I worked very hard to suppress”

You take a moment before continuing.

“But I shouldn’t have left like that. I’m not nineteen anymore. I should’ve stayed and told you how you upset me. I gave into flight instead of fight and that was extremely unfair to both of you. I’m sorry”

The couple opposite you take a moment to process what you just told them. You observe them closely.

“That was surprisingly reasonable to hear, Y/N” Beth says. “You’ve never opened up to us like that”

“I know. I vented to a therapist a few days ago because he forgot his wallet, so I gave him a few free drinks in exchange for some one on one time with a licensed mental health professional” You give them two thumbs up. “So.. are we.. good?”

Rip looks at his wife before his eyes avert to you again. “We’re good”

“But things can’t go back to the way they were” Beth says, causing your stomach to twist in sudden discomfort. “At least not now”

“I understand” You say softly, forcing a small, sad smile. “Thank you for giving me the chance to clear the air. And thank you again, for letting me stay”

Rip nods, but doesn’t respond otherwise.

Beth pats her husband’s thigh, once then twice, before they both stand up. She looks down at you. “Get some rest. We’ll see you in the morning”

You get the hint that you’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight. Maybe all the other ones too. Still, you try not to look bothered. “Good night”

“Night” The older woman says before walking away with her husband, leaving you alone once more.

When she turns off the light, the darkness envelops you in a cold embrace. It’s so quiet now.

You take the folded blanket at your feet and put it over yourself before lying down. They didn’t even give you a sleeping pillow, so you have to use the square, throw pillow from the couch.

Your lower lip trembles as you try to hold back your emotions from the way they’re treating you. The cold shoulder. The lack of petnames. The brief responses they give like they would rather be doing anything else than speak to you. The worst part is that they’re completely justified. You left them. You said and did some things you can’t take back.

You make yourself small as you tuck yourself further into the couch while your back faces the dark, empty room. You don’t even realize that you’re crying until your entire body is shaking from the weight of your sobs. You press your hand against your mouth in an attempt to keep quiet.

The last thing you want to do is wake Beth, Rip, or worse, Carter, up because you’re being emotional.

Your cries are muffled against your hand.

You stop and sniffle when you hear footsteps. You listen closely. They sound light and precise. Beth.

You don’t turn around to face her. You just sniffle and wait for her to make the first move.

Beth sits next to you, the couch dipping under her weight. “Lift your head”

You don’t question her and do as she says.

She swaps out the throw pillow under your head for a real one that’s softer and comfier in all the right ways. Then she lies down next to you, her front flush against your back. She covers herself with the blanket too. Finally, she drapes her arm over your waist like it’s second nature to her. Maybe it is.

“We’re still angry at you” Beth clarifies as she pulls you close. Well, closer. “But I can’t stand hearing you cry like that while I’m able to stop it”

You don’t say anything.

She nuzzles into your hair. “You’re lucky. Tonight’s the first night in a very, very long time that my husband and I won’t be sleeping in the same bed”

Your heart skips a beat.

“He said you needed me more”

Well, now you feel guilty. But also.. loved?

Beth lets her eyes fall shut. “Good night, honey”

Petname. She used a petname!

For the first time in weeks, you fall asleep with your peace of mind and a small smile on your lips in the arms of the woman that you love.

The next morning you wake up to the most wonderful thing you’ve ever smelled. It’s familiar. Like an old song you know by heart.

Beth is still sound asleep behind you, her soft snores hitting the back of your neck. You move carefully as you untangle yourself from her. By some miracle, you manage to get off the couch without waking her up. You let out a breath of relief and mentally praise yourself before following the heavenly smell of fried food into the kitchen.

“Hmm. Is that frybread I smell?”

Rip, who is standing behind the stove in his everyday denim black shirt and worn blue jeans, flips over a piece of fried dough. “Yes, ma’am”

You nearly moan while eyeing the stack of frybread on the counter. You don’t even sit down before taking one off the top and biting into it.

Rip glances at you. “Thought you hated frybread”

“I do” You say, your words slightly muffled because of your mouthful of food. You chew then swallow before speaking again. “But pregnant me doesn’t” You take three bites at once and close your eyes as you savor the oily, doughy taste. “Fuck it’s good”

The man chuckles softly before turning off the stove’s burner and putting the last of the frybread on the plate. He puts out a different plate in front of you so you can eat while sitting down without getting crumbs all over the counter.

You wipe your mouth with one hand while holding the rest of the piece of frybread in the other. You look at Rip. “What do you think about me being.. you know? Pregnant. With your baby”

Rip doesn’t look at you. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he busied himself with washing the dishes, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows so they don’t get wet. “We knew this could happen. We just didn’t think it would”

“Well, we weren’t exactly careful sometimes..”

He huffs a laugh. “That’s true”

You’re still looking at him from behind. “You’re really okay with me getting an abortion?”

Finally, Rip turns to face you. “Y/N, it ain’t my place to tell a woman what she can and can’t do with her body” His subtle blue eyes pierce into yours. “If you think getting rid of it is what’s best for you, then that’s what you have to do. It’s that simple”

You agree and stay quiet while taking another bite out of your frybread. You think about what he said.

The time on your phone reads 6:43AM when Rip leaves the house. You went upstairs to take a shower after breakfast while he said both good morning and goodbye to his wife. Before getting in the shower, you brush your teeth with the spare toothbrush you had in the cabinet. Your heart can’t help, but warm when you find out that they didn’t throw it out. After triggering your gag reflex one too many times, you decide that you’re done and take off your clothes before stepping into the shower.

You turn the shower handle to your left by just a little, just right to send lukewarm water rushing down on you, and nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden knock on the shower glass. You turn to look at Beth with a hand over your pounding heart.

“Fucking hell, Beth! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry” The older woman apologizes, her eyes soft. “I just wanted to know how long you’d be in there”

“Do you have somewhere to be?”

“I do, actually. At the 10-petal”

You stop washing your body, turning to her. “The 10-petal? Why are you going to the 10-petal?”

Beth stares at you for a while before taking off her clothes and letting them fall to the cool bathroom floor. “We have a lot to catch up on. Move over”

She joins you in the shower and tells you everything. Carter and Oreana. The imported, infected bull that led to the infected herd which had to be put down. The falsified documents. Beulah Jackson’s possible involvement in it all.

“This is crazy” You say while scrubbing Beth’s back with a loofah sponge till her skin’s red-ish. “So you and Rip both work for the 10-petal now?”

“Just in the meantime. It’s not permanent”

Beth turns around to look at you. You look back at her and smile. She always makes you smile.

Your smile falters. Noticeably too. You’re at war with yourself because you missed out on seeing her face for days just because you were being childish, stupid and just downright stubborn.

You snap out of your own misery when a finger taps your nose, pulling you back down to earth.

“I know what you look like when you’re beating yourself up. None of that, okay?”

It takes a while for you to respond. “Okay”

She gently takes the loofah from your hand. “Let me clean you up so I can take you to breakfast”

“Isn’t Beulah expecting you?”

“I’ll tell her something came up”

Her eyes fixate on your chest as she scrubs the soapy loofah down your wet body. She’s stunned when you press a chaste kiss to her lips.

“What was that for?”

You shrug sheepishly. “Just felt like it”

Beth smiles softly and shakes her head before continuing with the task of washing your body.

When you’re done, the two of you step out of the shower and dry off before getting dressed. Beth decides on wearing jeans and a grey graphic tee over her denim jacket to match with her jeans. You pick something out from the few clothes you left behind. You decide on a floral summer dress and wear one of Beth’s other jackets over it.

You follow her out of the house and into her truck.

As you sit there in the passenger seat while she drives into town, you feel a sense of joy that you never thought you’d get back. You look out at the scenery that passes by, grateful for the love and understanding you’ve received from Beth and Rip.

The days go by faster than you can blink.

Over time, you return to the natural rhythm you once had with Beth and Rip. It's strange. It feels like nothing ever happened between you. Still, on the third day of your stay, you politely declined their offer to take up with them in the bedroom. You were honest with them and told them that you didn’t feel ‘worthy’ of having that trust back just yet.

Which brings you to now. It’s still the third day. Well, night. You lie on the couch listening to music through your phone and staring up at the ceiling.

You’re bored. You check the time on your phone. 20:47. Just a few more minutes til nine.

You let out a sigh. Suddenly, you perk up as an idea pops into your head. You don’t waste any time getting off the couch and walking to the back door.

Beth and Rip are seated in their respective chairs as they stare out at their barren backyard. They turn to look behind them when the door opens.

You stand by the doorway, leaning your hand on its aged wooden frame. “You don’t have any plans tonight, right?” You ask them, hopefully.

“Not that we know of” Rip says.

Beth looks up at you. “Why?”

You tug your lower lip between your teeth as you try (and fail) to fight a smile. “How do you feel about going on a little night ride?”

You take your horses and ride up north. Beth and Rip trail behind you as you lead them into the forest. You pull at the reins to bring Carter’s horse to a stop when you arrive at your destination.

You look out at the creek in front of you, the sound of the steady flow of water bringing back a few happy memories. You dismount with ease, stumbling just a little, and tie the reins to a nearby tree. Beth and Rip do the same with their horses.

You take off your boots then strip off your clothes piece by piece until you’re bare. You glance at the two other people behind you and shoot them a sly grin before running into the creek.

You fully submerge yourself into the cool water before coming back up and wiping your face. You look at the couple. “What are you waiting for!”

Rip’s smiling when he turns to his wife. “Are we seriously about to entertain this, honey?”

Beth’s smiling now too. Her smile doesn’t falter when she sees you playing in the water while you await them. “Look at her. What do you think?”

Her fingers are already busy unbuttoning the top buttons of her dress as she walks towards the creek. Her husband lets out a conceded sigh before unbuttoning his own shirt.

Beth is the first to join you in the water.

Your breath hitches at the sight of her naked body. You realize this is the first time you’ve seen her like this in almost three weeks. Same with Rip.

You don’t know what possesses you - lust, love or just plain desperation - but you close the distance between you and the older woman and kiss her. Your hands cradle the back of her head as your mouth moves against hers in a needy kiss. You’re only somewhat surprised when Beth kisses you back in a much more ferocious fashion than what you were expecting. However, you’re not complaining. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that. Her hands find your waist, gripping you like you’ll fade away if her hold on you gives way.

Her tongue invades your mouth without warning, mapping the inside with a blend of passion and skilled precision. You enjoy every second of it.

You feel Rip getting into the water when small ripples hit you from his movements, the tiny waves expanding across the creek’s surface. When he’s close enough, you pull away from Beth and kiss him with the same love and eagerness you were just kissing his wife with. God, did you miss the way his beard scratched against your chin.

You break away when oxygen starts to feel like a luxury instead of a necessity. You keep your hand on his chest as you catch your breath.

You look between them. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that”

“I think we have some idea” Beth says with a smile as she moves towards you. Her hands find your waist again. This time from behind, her front flush against your back. She leans down to speak into your ear. “Were those ‘I love you so much’ kisses or ‘I love so much, please rail me’ kisses?”

“We’re good either way” Her husband chimes in.

Instead of answering, you take one of Beth’s hands and move it downward til it’s between your legs. The water’s up to your waist. You feel it move around you when she slips a finger into your cunt.

Rip takes the hand that you had on his chest and brings it to his lips. He kisses your palm then works his way up your arm. First the wrist then the inside of your elbow and lastly, your shoulder. His lips soon fall to the pulse point on your neck, nipping at the soft flesh there before sucking on it. You can’t help, but moan softly at the sensation. At the same time, Beth inserts another digit into you and starts thrusting her fingers underwater at a leisurely pace.

You can tell it’s gonna be a long night.

You alter between kissing Beth and kissing Rip. You gasp and pant against the latter’s mouth while his wife’s fingers work their way inside of you. She leans down to kiss the side of your neck. You feel her soft, concentrated exhales against your skin when she picks up her pace to get you off. Rip’s calloused hand encloses around your breast, your hardened nipples cool against his palm. You moan softly when he starts running his thumb up and down the small erect nub all while his mouth continues to dominate yours. You moan in relief and melt into the man’s chest when the older woman makes you cum, your velvety walls clenching around the welcome intrusion of her fingers. Beth works you through your orgasm. When you’ve come down from your high, she withdraws her hand from you completely.

Beth steps aside. You miss the way she holds her husband’s gaze before tilting her head towards a big flat rock a few feet away from you. He averts his eyes towards your face and pulls away, breaking the kiss. Your chest expands and deflates as you breathe the air you were somewhat deprived of, your lips are kiss-swollen.

Rip carefully backs you up against the rock before lifting you, with ease, and placing you on it. From this position, you’re able to feel his hardened cock against your lower leg. Your breath hitches.

Beth comes to stand behind you, her hands at home on your waist. “Spread those legs, babygirl”

You do as you’re told. You watch with rapt attention as Rip extends a hand out to his wife who spits into it. You bite your lower lip to restrain yourself but fucking hell was that sexy. He strokes her spit all over his thick and aching cock, his hand engulfed around the erect appendage. He takes a step forward so that he can position the bulbous pink head of his cock against your dripping entrance.

Beth grabs a hold of your chin and gently tilts your head to the side so that you’re facing her. She leans forward and captures your lips with her own in a soft kiss. You moan into her mouth when Rip enters you, your fingers curled against the rock’s rough surface. You relax them when he’s fully bottomed out inside of you. His hands settle on your thighs while Beth pulls away. You whine.

“None of that” She warns. “I want to hear you properly. No more muffled moans into my mouth”

You brattily toss your head back against her shoulder and pout up at her with your big pleading eyes. Your short-lived pout is ruined by a moan leaving your lips when Rip starts thrusting into you.

Your breasts bounce every time his hips touch yours. Beth is mesmerized at the sight. Rip puts his less dominant hand over the one his wife has on your waist, the other still gripping your thigh. You can feel him and the added pressure he applies on your skin. Soft moans continue to spill from your lips as he pounds into you relentlessly. They become a little high-pitched when he somehow goes deeper into you after hooking your legs around his waist. You can feel him in your lower abdomen when you put a hand over it, the faint bulge moving against your palm.

You lose track of how many times you cum but somewhere after the third or fourth, you lean forward and put your whole body weight against Rip. You cling onto him like your life depends on it, your nails buried deep into his skin. You hear him groan just before he adjusts his pace. You moan louder and louder as he starts fucking you faster. He keeps hitting or brushing against your g-spot which makes you a little more sensitive than usual. You put your head on his shoulder when it becomes too intense, but you don’t want it to stop.

Beth placing kisses across your back helps keep you grounded. You moan and let your eyes fall shut when she bites into the back of your neck. Not so hard as to break the skin, but enough to leave a temporary dent. A mark if you will. Her mark. She soothes the wound with her tongue. It feels nice.

Rip groans when he finally climaxes, his seed shooting into your most vulnerable depth, painting your insides in his warm, white essence. That was all the push you needed to cum again. You stay as you are while milking him dry. Not like you can get any more pregnant than you already are.

He puts his hands on your shoulders to keep you steady while he pulls away, his cock slipping from your cunt with a faint wet sound. He looks at you.

“You alright?”

You nod, hazily. “Peachy”

Rip huffs a laugh.

Beth comes into view again beside her husband. She puts a hand on his shoulder as she whispers something into his ear. Then they look at you.

“Think you can handle us at the same time, baby?”

Your eyes widen in amusement. You nod enthusiastically before responding verbally. “Yes. Yes, please. I can handle it. I can handle you”

She walks towards you while Rip walks around you. “Someone’s eager” She teases.

You watch her put a hand in the middle of your chest before gently pushing you down til you're bent over backwards on the rock. You don’t see the way she sinks down to her knees in front of your legs or the way she tucks her arms around your thighs. What you do see is Rip stroking himself til he’s hard again before he comes to stand directly in front of your face. Your cunt clenches around nothing in eager anticipation. You swallow thickly.

Beth eats you out like a starving animal while her husband throatfucks you. He doesn’t do it as fast or as roughly as he was fucking your cunt which you’re entirely grateful for. You moan and gag around his cock. More of the former. The way the older woman moves her mouth and tongue against your cunt should be considered a sin. Your back arches when she makes you cum, your essence flooding her mouth. You feel the vibrations of her moaning against you. She doesn’t stop. She adds her fingers this time and keeps going to coax one last orgasm from your willing body. Rip climaxes about a minute later. He groans, his cock buried to the hilt inside of your throat as his cum shoots out of him the second time. You swallow what you can. Your back arched again, a bit higher this time, when Beth makes you cum. Your legs tremble, your thighs tensing up. You might’ve pulled a muscle.

The couple pulls away from you at the same time.

Beth takes your hands to pull you up. You look at her with a blissful expression, your eyes dazed. She reaches out to wipe a bit of Rip from your upper lip. She brings it to her own mouth and sucks on her thumb to taste her husband. You smile.

You slump down into a sitting position and lean back against the rock. The water’s up to your shoulders. “Can I watch you?”

It takes a moment for Beth to realize what you’re asking. When she understands, she smiles at you.

You watch her ride Rip like there’s no tomorrow with half of their bodies submerged in the water. It’s not a lustful act for you, despite the nature of it. You just watch the two people you love the most in this world love each other with their bodies.

When they’re done, they make their way over to you. They sit across from you and you just.. you just talk. Talk in a way you haven’t for weeks.

Beth tells you about the abortion she had when she was a teenager. She mentions her ‘brother’ and what he did when she came to him for help. Your rage melts away when she tells you she killed him.

When it’s time to go home, you feel lighter than you did when you arrived at the creek. After putting the horses back in their stables, you all head to the house to wash up before bed. You take them up on their offer from earlier and sleep in their bed.

Morning comes faster than you’d like.

You wake up, your eyes fluttering open. You lift your head up and look ahead of you to see Beth pulling her jeans up over her legs. You stare at her. She has a simple look about her today; blue jeans, soft purple Henley tank top and a worn green flannel to cover her arms and complete her look.

“I can feel you staring” She says without looking at you, a smile pulling at her nude lips. After pulling the zipper up and buttoning her jeans, she turns to look at you. “Good morning, sweetheart”

“Good morning, Beth” You greet her with a soft smile. You yawn when you sit up and stretch your arms high above your head. You exhale then throw the covers off of yourself to get out of bed. “I’m gonna take a shower. Are you making breakfast?”

“Yep. Let me guess? You want a stuffed omelette”

“Yes, please”

Beth playfully rolls her eyes as she walks towards the door. “Go take your shower. Your breakfast will be waiting for you downstairs”

You watch her leave the room before getting in the bathroom, taking off your clothes and taking a shower. When you’re done, you dry off and get dressed in one of your comfier jeans and a fitting Henley. You grab your purse that you borrowed from Beth and head downstairs.

You take a seat at the counter where Beth has placed your omelette on a plate. You dig in with your knife and fork and eat in silence.

The older woman watches you while holding a mug of coffee with both hands. “Slow down, Y/N. The food isn’t going anywhere”

Beth enters the kitchen.

“Yeah” You say with a mouthful before swallowing. You look at them, “but I am. This guy I work with, Travis, is coming to pick me up in a few minutes. He’s letting me ride with him to El Paso”

“Why are you going to El Paso?” Rip asks.

You cut and take another bite of your food. “One word. Eight letters. Starts with A and ends with N”

Beth understands immediately. “Why didn’t you t-“

“Tell you?” You cut her off. “Because I knew you would’ve driven me there yourselves. And it’s not like I don’t want that, it’s just.. I feel like I need to do this myself, you know? Please don’t be mad”

Rip takes a glance at his wife before looking back at you. “Honey, we’re not mad”

“No, we’re not” Beth says, assuring you of her feelings. “Though, a heads up would’ve been nice”

You sigh. “I know. I suck”

“You don’t suck. Well, not in the way you’re thinking of” Beth winks at you with a mischievous smile.

You hear Rip chuckle to himself.

You all turn your heads to the door when you hear the unmistakable sound of a car horn twice.

You quickly finish your omelette before wiping your mouth and standing up. “Guess that’s me. I’ll call you when I get there. And after the procedure”

“Wait”

Beth walks out of the kitchen. You hear her go up the stairs and come back down a few seconds later. She hands you a thick, folded wad of cash.

“Here. Come back to us in one piece”

You take the money and put it in your purse. “Yes, ma’am” You say before kissing her cheek. You walk towards her husband and do the same with him. “Bye. See you in a couple of hours”

You wave at them as you leave the house.

You get in the passenger seat of Travis’ car. You tell him good morning and he just says hey back. You don’t mind. You’re grateful he’s even letting you ride with him to El Paso. Especially since his reason for going involves a deceased uncle.

The ninety-two minute drive is spent in silence safe for the music blasting from the radio.

When you get to El Paso, he drops you off at the clinic. You thank him, tell him goodbye then get out of the car. He calls out to you.

“Don’t die or nothing”

You nod, your lips curled inward. “I won’t”

He drives off without another word.

You take a breath before going inside.

After making the payment, an hour passes before you’re called to go into a small changing room. You undress and put on a gown before a nurse your age takes you to the operation room. Another hour passes before doctors finally enter the room. An anesthesiologist puts an anesthesia mask over your mouth and nose. You go under in seconds.

When you wake up, everything feels.. the same honestly. The nurse from earlier helps you into a wheelchair before bringing you back into the changing room. After you’re dressed, she goes over the do’s and don'ts of post-abortion. You type everything out into your notes. She gives you a smile and a lollipop then sends you on your way.

As you’re walking towards the entrance, you think about how you’re getting home. You could call Travis, but he wouldn’t drive back to Rio Paloma immediately. You’d probably spend some time with his family beforehand. You do have a lot of money left over so you could take a bus. But the germs.

You push open the door.

You stop dead in your tracks when you see Beth and Rip leaning against his truck. Your lips part in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Beth lifts her sunglasses and rests them on her head so she can look at you properly. “We thought about it and ultimately decided to disregard everything you said this morning”

“So here we are” Rip chimes in.

You walk up to them, fighting the urge to smile. “How long have you been standing out here?”

“Twenty minutes give or take” He says, holding onto his belt. The sun reflects off of his sunglasses. “Didn’t feel right letting you do this on your own”

“And we come bearing gifts”

Beth opens the back door. You gasp when you see a bag of your favorite food on the seats with the diner’s logo on the front. The smell of a delicious smash burger paired with crispy fries hits you almost immediately. You walk towards it as if you were stuck in a trance. You just barely register getting into the backseat of the car. You come back down to earth when you feel a body next to you.

“Scoot over”

You make room for Beth while Rip gets behind the wheel and drives away from the clinic.

You eat half of your burger and fries before putting the rest back in the bag. You turn your head and see Beth looking at you with something you don’t know how to describe. It’s soft. It makes you feel.. loved in a way you’ve never been before. You reach out and trail the tip of your index finger across the aged scars on her face. You kiss them both before laying your head down on her lap.

Rip looks into the rearview mirror to see his wife stroking your hair. Your eyes are shut. He figures you’ll be dead asleep before he reaches an intersection. Beth looks back at him through the mirror. She shoots him a reassuring smile.

With that, Rip looks at the road ahead of him, knowing that his girls are safe and sound.

[dailyblueobsession]

Avatar Masterlist (x Reader)

Masterlist Created: 21/02/26

Updated: 26/05/26

Total Works: 21

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tsu'tey

Mirrored Skies (Tag List Now Full) : Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 (mild NSFW) Part 21

[dailyblueobsession]

Mirrored Skies Chapter 2

Pairing: Tsu'tey x AvaterFemReader

Trope: Enemies to Allies to Lovers

Summary: You are a part of Grace's avatar programme. You make the mistake of following Jake on the expedition and narrowly escape death. You would kill him but the dumbass somehow got you both to the hearts of the Ometikaya.

Work Count: 4k

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Now we get into some angry Tsu'tey training!

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It was a strange sensation to feel exposed in a body that didn't belong to you. Back on Earth, you were used to people's critiquing stares, the glances that held too long to judge and pick you apart.

"Look at what she's wearing."

"She's showing far too much."

"Why is she covering up so much, she must have something to hide."

It was another alluring aspect of spending time in a different body. Its innocence had yet to be stripped away from prying eyes.

Yet, as you stood in front of the sea of Na'vi before you in your gifted new attire, you had never felt so transparent. You were in a body that was created to be a living form of imitation. While it gave you that glorious sense of freedom from your human reality, it was overshadowed by the feeling of being a fraud. It felt so wrong to be allowed the opportunity into this new world. This wasn't appreciation, this was mockery.

You couldn't escape back to your RDA issued clothes even if you wanted to. They were burned the second you had stripped them off in favour of the loincloth, tewng as you now know, and a woven chest covering that was deceivingly reliable in ensuring everything stayed where it should. Despite your hesitancy, you couldn't deny how beautiful the clothes were in their artistry.

Thankfully, Tsu'tey had no involvement in getting you out of your old clothes and into your new ones. You wouldn't have been able to bear that intense burn of his golden eyes on you in such an intimate moment.

That being said, you weren't granted long for your reprise away from him. Following the Na'vi named Ninat towards the fire, she pointed for you to sit next to Jake. It was no surprise the space next to him was left empty, only Neytiri having the courage to sit next to him, if only out of responsibility.

Neytiri handed you and Jake a pouch of food before sitting down with hers. You expressed your thanks with a small smile before peeling back the leaf wrapping. You waited, letting Jake take the first taste before you hesitantly brought up the small pieces of food up to your mouth.

The food had only just grazed your lips before that soon to be familiar weight settled onto you again. Your eyes flickered up to see Tsu'tey focusing on you. A challenge. You thought. You could feel your anger rise up inside from the constant attention.

Were you in any other circumstance, you wouldn't hesitate to tell them to fuck off and mind their own business, but you weren't stupid enough to let your anger win here. Your nostrils flare as you take in a deep breath to calm yourself.

You couldn't blame him after all. Aliens had infiltrated his home and had taken whatever they desired without a single remorse. The selfishness of the RDA knew no bounds. No. Not just the RDA, humans. And when all that was shared proved too little, they took what they wanted no matter what or who got in their way. You had to show them you were different, that you lead yourself with the compassion they deserved and not the greed they were used to.

You met his eyes as you chewed your food, calculating your next move. You could meet his challenge and show the strength of your determination or you could back down and show your respect for their customs.

You weren't given a choice. It seemed the sight of you proved too disgusting for Tsu'tey to finish his meal as he threw away the remains and stormed away from the fire.

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"(Y/N)! Wake up. Come on, come back to us." You gasp, eyes focusing on the lab's blinding lights. Norm was stood over you, his face closer than you'd like. You gently grab onto his shoulders, using him to pull yourself into a sitting position.

"Is the avatar safe?" You hear him say and you can finally let the shit eating grin split your face. "Yeah, its safe." You let out a breathy chuckle, your eyes wide with excitement to tell your friend everything. "You're not gonna believe this!"

You and Jake spent the next two hours telling Grace and Norm everything and answering all their questions. "How on earth you two managed to pull it off, I'll never know." Grace lets out a chuckle, still not believing the reality of the situation. Jake shrugs his shoulders with his signature smirk.

"You're still a fucking moron for nearly getting us killed." You shove Jake's shoulder playfully from the table you sat on, legs swinging underneath you. "Yeah but look where it got us." He winks and you roll your eyes at his ego.

Your head turns to Norm and you can practically feel his jealousy towards Jake. You knew what this meant to him, knew he had built up this fantasy for himself. You also knew you had no words to offer your colleague any comfort.

You finally got the chance to get some sleep before your early morning. Thankfully, you were spending the morning of your first day with Mo'at, the clan's tsahik, before beginning your training with Tsu'tey. You could feel the dread settling deep in your stomach as you rolled to your back in your uncomfortable bunk.

What have I gotten myself into? You ask yourself before the serene wave of sleep possessed you.

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"This way, (Y/N)." Mo'at guided you out of the Home Tree, summoning you shortly after you linked back up to your avatar that was resting peacefully in the cocoon you were given to sleep in. There were a handful of huts pitched up in a clearing close to the Home Tree, cleverly stationed in the middle of all areas used by the clan for easy access should anyone require the tsahik's attention.

The tsahik's hut was the largest and looked even bigger once you were inside. There were wooden pots and woven baskets scattered all around the edges of the hut with soft woven nests laying on the floor for those who sought the tsahik's attention. There was another section to the hut but it was closed off by a large curtain for privacy, you assume.

"Sit." She instructs, settling herself down by a few of the pots. While you felt immensely more comfortable around Mo'at and her gentle voice, she gave off an aura of sternness that made you want to ensure you never pissed her off. You sat next to her, your tail curling behind you.

You spent the morning being shown various plants, their names and what they were used for. You knew some of them already but it didn't do much to impress her since you were using English terminology and not Na'vi. Still, the researcher in you thoroughly enjoyed her teachings and she didn't seem to be displeased by your eagerness to learn.

But all good things must come to an end. The shadow in the centre of the hut signalled noon and your time with her was up. "Wait here. Tsu'tey will come for you." She commands before moving behind the curtain for a reason unknown to you.

Your nerves had manifested into physical symptoms of twitching limbs and a few beads of sweat trickling down your spine in anticipation. Mo'at still hadn't returned and you flinched at each flap of the entrance at the hut from the gentle wind. You hoped you would be taught how to tune into your heightened senses better to be able to sense people coming towards you.

You were put out of your misery eventually by a presence looming over you from behind. You snap your head up to see the scowl you were beginning to hate. I didn't even hear him come in. You realise, unsure what to make of that observation.

Tsu'tey sucked his teeth in annoyance just from the sight of you. "Ka vrrtep." His deep demanding voice shook your bones despite not understanding his words. "What?" You raise your eyebrow up at him, confused. That only seemed to piss him off more.

"Follow demon." His top lip curled, revealing his sharp canines. You roll your eyes while you had your back to him and stand, not brave enough to challenge him so soon, at least to his face. As soon as you are on your feet, he storms out the hut, expecting you to keep up.

You have to jog to match his pace before he abruptly stops at a small empty clearing. You felt yourself growing uneasy at the lack of witnesses as you look around. He still hadn't spoken to you beyond those two words in the hut.

Your eyes widen as you watch him unsheathe his dagger that was strapped around his chest. You step back, creating more distance and his eyes snap to you. "Stay still demon." Oh my god. I knew it. He's gonna kill me! You can't stop the panic rising and feel your chest tightening to make sharp fast breaths.

You swallow the thump in your throat and regret it as those threatening eyes catch the movement. You really wanted to show a brave face but it was pointless. He was a natural predator, a true testament of strength. He moved another step, only inches away from you. He was taller than you sure but now that you were toeing within his aura, he dwarfed you. You knew you had no chance of leaving here alive should he wish to end your life, and so did he.

Your eyes flick down to the dagger still in his hand, chest still heaving. He made a noise of disgust and backed away a few steps, nostrils flaring. "Your alien stench assaults my nose." Your breathing steadied now that you had more space between you but you kept your focus on him, waiting for his next move.

"I don't smell." You defend yourself weakly, voice smaller than you'd hoped. He didn't respond. His face showed you plainly what he thought of you. He was done with the conversation as he twisted his dagger in his hand.

"Enough talk demon. To survive the forest, you need to be strong. Try to take this from me." He didn't even move into a defence position and waited for you to make your move. You hesitate, trying to see what kind of trap he was setting for you. "Do not waste my time." He warns, the edge returning to his deep voice.

You barely had any kind of training with combat so you had to use your fear of pissing him off to push your legs towards him. You reached your hand out to grab the handle of the blade. Time slowed in the next moment and yet his movements hadn't. You had never witnessed such speed or swiftness.

No sooner had you made your advance, you were on your back with the wind knocked out of your lungs. You groan at the impact, your lungs screaming for air. Your brain faltered, unable to form words as your eyes widen up at him in shock.

"You are weak. Slow. You will die." The gleam in his eyes makes you think he enjoys the sight of you hurt and gasping for breath. You weren't conditioned for fighting and it was painfully obvious. But you couldn't back down at the first hurdle. You push yourself up, inhaling a large breath.

"Again." He demands.

After another fifteen consecutive times of being knocked on your ass with an incredibly bruised body, you find it harder to breath. You finally sit up after a minute or so but can't muster the strength to stand. You're left panting on the floor with his shadow dwarfing you. "I think that's enough for today." You plead with him, head bent and eyes closed to stop yourself from vomiting.

"You cannot even stay off the ground. You do not below here." You glare up at him, his body blocking out the bright sun and casting a dark shadow around him. He called you demon, but in this moment he reminded you of the devil.

"You should go away." He bites, his hatred for you radiating down onto you. In a last ditch of determination, you pull a mask over your exhaustion. "Nah, you'd miss me." At this, he snarls down at you. "Make no mistake, your life means nothing to me." With his final words, he storms away, evidently finished with you.

You're left to sit in his venomous words, moving your head into your hands. This was gonna be a lot harder than you thought. You let the wave of cruelty wash over you. You understood his hatred for you. You were part of the aliens who infested his planet and left destruction at their every touch.

As much as you could argue that you were different, that you wanted to help preserve the beauty of this planet, it couldn't compare to the loss the Na'vi had already suffered. They would never trust you until you proved your devotion to their home.

It was now a question of determination, to see what would break first. Would you break Tsu'tey's resolve or would you break by his hand?

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Dusk settled into night and you sat by the fire, empty spaces surrounding you. Jake and Neytiri still had not arrived for the communal meal and you knew only two other people; Mo'at and Tsu'tey. You were not allowed to sit next to Mo'at due to her status as tsahik and Tsu'tey would kill you before you came close to him, not that you would even voluntarily choose to be beside him.

Your muscles strained from the crouching position but you needed to train your body to endure the roughness of Na'vi training if you had any hope to survive this. Tsu'tey already thought you were as weak as a child in your adult body, if not weaker. You had to handle a simple crouch after a few blows to the ground.

A tap to your shoulder frayed your concentration. You were greeted by Jake's classic smile. "Hey." You speak softly as he kneels beside you. "How'd your first day go?" You ask, finally having the courage to eat now that you had a familiar presence with you.

He grinned at you. "Terrible. You?" You smile tiredly at him. "Let's just say i'm glad my skin is blue otherwise you'd see all the bruises on my back." Jake choked on his food, heads snapping at the commotion. He waves to signal he is alright once his breath is back before leaning in to whisper in your ear. "I didn't peg you as the type to fuck on the first date."

Your face heats up in embarrassment at the accusation before your anger takes control of you. Without thinking, your eyes glance over to Tsu'tey, who thankfully was not focusing on you for once. "That's so not what I meant you fucking pervert." You hiss back, ears flattening against your head. "Besides, I wouldn't even go there." Jake's smirk doesn't falter at your outburst, finding your reaction entertaining.

"It was meant to be training but I spent more time falling on my ass than actually learning anything." You sigh, disappointed at the outcome of your time with Tsu'tey, even if you hadn't expected any different. "Don't beat yourself up, it's only day one. Hell, you should have seen what I looked like on my first day in the Marines." He gently nudged your shoulder for encourage, coaxing a smile from you.

"Yeah you're right." Jake mirrors your smile. "And you probably deserved it." You grin, nudging him back with your shoulder. You both let small chuckles fly from your lips, trying not to draw too much attention to yourselves.

Neytiri joined Jake, going over what he had learnt from his first day and leaving you to your thoughts again. You kept your head low, not wanting to witness the scowl on Tsu'tey's face again. You let your eyes fall to the ground as you chewed absentmindedly until it was an acceptable time to excuse yourself to sleep.

You were so exhausted from the day, you had barely spoken to anyone after breaking your link and completing your video log. You headed straight to your uncomfortable bunk and let sleep claim you.

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Mo'at tested your memory by asking you to recall all the names of the powders and herbs she had taught you the day before. She was pleasantly surprised by how much you were able to repeat back to her. Being a scientist, the one muscle you had developed extensively was your brain and the knack for storing information.

She went over some more different plants and what powders they were turned into, growing your very limited knowledge of the language. Your time with Mo'at slipped away too quickly yet again before you were summoned by Tsu'tey.

"Tsu'tey." Mo'at greeted the male as he entered the hut. "Oel ngati kameie." His voice vibrated into your back before you turned to face him. His eyes burned into yours before he abruptly moved to walk away. When you didn't immediately follow, his tail flicked viciously. "Vrrtep." A single warning. A command.

What an asshole. Despite your anger at his demand, you jumped to your feet to follow him out of the tsahik's hut and into the forest, a different area than yesterday. You notice the extra knife he carries in his hand. "Where are we going?" You call after him, struggling to match his wide gait. He halts his steps at your voice and snaps around at you, invading your personal space.

"Your demon language is like a syaksyuk's cry. It rings in my ears." Your head tilts up to meet his eyes. The height difference wasn't substantial but he had a way of making you feel miniscule next to him.

You had experienced more than your fair share in life of men bossing you around and intimidating you back on Earth. You had reached a point where enough was enough. You wouldn't back down to any man again.

But you weren't on Earth. And you weren't standing next to a human man. This was Pandora and you were standing before a Na'vi male. Your mission to learn and understand the Na'vi overshadowed all of your feelings and impulses to react.

You stand down your anger, letting the retort you had ready fizzle away on your tongue. "Lead the way." You cock your head and Tsu'tey scoffs, turning back around to venture deeper into the forest. He stops you in a quiet area full of trees and coverage from the forest's predators.

Now that you've stopped walking, you have the chance to admire the nature surrounding you in broad daylight. You head tilts back to take it all in and your eyes finally land on Tsu'tey. He had been watching you. His stare soured your appreciation.

"Your lack of focus will get you killed." He states bluntly as a warning before handing you your knife. You mentally roll your eyes before accepting it. "Today we see what you are like with a weapon."

Needless to say, you surpassed the lowest depths of Tsu'tey's disappointment. Each movement you copied with your knife was met with an insult.

"Your stance is wrong."

"Your grip is weak."

"You swing like you are apologizing."

You glare at him as you lean against a tree, sweat running down your neck and making your hair stick to your forehead. "I am fucking trying you know." Your exhaustion from your training muffled your endless mental reminders not to piss him off.

"Trying will not save your life. Do not expect me to rescue you." He snapped, patience wearing thin. "Skill will. Strength will." He gestured to you with his knife. "Again." You grunt as you push off from your resting spot and move into a weak stance.

"Skxawng vrrtep. Must I teach you everything repeatedly?" You had been out in the forest for hours, your body craving food and a chance to rest from your relentless teacher.

He stepped behind you before you could react, placing his large hands on your arms to correct your posture. His touch was firm, controlled and void of gentleness, but the feeling of his breath cooling your neck made your breath hitch anyway.

"Feet apart," He instructed but your brain lagged from the absurdity of having him so close to you without it ending in you falling flat on your ass. "If you fall, you die." He all but growls out, his leg harshly forcing yours to move further apart.

You expect the feeling of wrongness to wash over you from his touch but it doesn't come. You shake it off as tiredness. "So you've said. You're not a very encouraging teacher" You bite before you can stop yourself. You turn your head slightly to shoot a look at him but find his face a lot closer than you realise. Your eyes stay focused on each other for only a second before its broken.

He jerks himself back harshly with a deep frown as though he was burned by your skin. "I am not here to comfort you." He states plainly before pointing to your target. "Again." You were shocked your body held the position he moved you into.

You scoff but comply. You swing your arm and your knife buries into its target of the tree. You grin to yourself at your small accomplishment after your long day of failures. You were expecting another insult from Tsu'tey but heard nothing outside the chorus of the forest.

You turned your head to see him stood accessing you with his arms folded over his chest. Silence stretched too long to be comfortable. "Do not be satisfied, you still have much to improve vrrtep." He doesn't dismiss you, simply walking away back to Home Tree.

You scowl, plucking your knife out of the tree and following after him. Your anger towards him swallowed up the memory of the lack of disgust you felt from his touch. But you couldn't deny the inkling of something tiny and new mingling in with your anger and you weren't sure if you wanted to know what.

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