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#but i can only do shitposts unless otherwise given clear instructions
sea-jello · 6 months
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Day 31/October 31: Halloween || Death || Costumes
never forget the skeleton had hair
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annathewitch · 6 years
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Summary: Vaako x Reader, Chronicles of Riddick fic. You appear to have piqued the interest of a certain Necromonger Commander.
Words: 3200
Warnings: NSFW below the cut, Smut of the M/F manual stimulation variety, swearing.
A/N: I have no idea where this came from, so Urban Shitposters I’m pointing the finger at you! Its not the first smut I’ve written, but it is the first I’ve published. I hope it’s more sexy than cringey... Also not planning to become a regular smut writer just to manage expectations!!!
...
It’s difficult to know what Dame Vaako would make of you simply standing and staring out of the large floor to ceiling window in her spacious quarters, instead of cleaning like you’re supposed to. At least you think you’re supposed to.
It’s been over a month now since the Necromongers took you, and you’ve been neither converted nor killed. Instead, you’ve been given a small room in the Dame’s suite and you’ve become some kind of servant, although she’s been enigmatic about what she expects you to do. When she’s there, she demands your assistance with her toilette or simply just your presence. She instructed you to take care of her clothes once, and so you assumed that you were supposed to launder and clean and she’s not told you otherwise.
With their reputation and the whisperings you’ve heard about the Dame, you expected her to be harsh, violent even. But she smiles an indulgent cat-like smile at you and when she does lay hands on you, its been to stroke your hair or dress you up like a doll. Its not what you expected, and even though you feel the raw, gaping loss of all your people, you’re not in a position to complain. It’s a life of sorts, but still yours.
Whether the Dame would approve or not, you can’t help but stare, polishing cloth forgotten loosely in your fist, mesmerised at the sight of a planet that seems to be tearing itself apart. Great flares of raw energy pulse and flow from vast fissures in the surface and every so often the ship shudders and groans. This must mean something to the Necromongers, because the whole fleet seems to have surrounded the stricken planet. Watching whole worlds be consumed is their religion, you think bitterly.
You’re so distracted that you don’t notice the soft footsteps behind you or the presence of another until they speak.
“It’s a beautiful spectacle, isn’t it?” You turn, startled, to see the Dame’s husband standing right behind you. He’s staring over your shoulder. “I’ve seen it a hundred times, but it never fails to inspire.”
In the weeks that you have been here, you’ve only seen Commander Vaako a handful of times. He’s sternly handsome, usually the epitome of this warrior race in his gilded, battle scarred armour. He’s glanced your way a couple of times, but he’s been seeking occupation with his wife and you have made yourself scarce. He has never spoken directly to you and his voice is low and smooth, his tone is softer than you would have expected. Hypnotised by it for just a second, you suddenly remember the task that you were supposed to be completing, and that he might very well report your idleness to the Dame.
“I’m sorry, Sir, I only stopped for a minute to look,” you say, taking a step towards the window to resume cleaning the glass. But as you do, the ship lurches and you’re caught off balance, thrown towards Vaako. You land against the solid planes of his chest, feeling the gentle ‘oof’ as he exhales and catches you around the waist.
You begin to apologise again, grabbing fistful of his shirt as you push yourself upright. Risking a glance up at him, his attention is now completely on you, the look on his face impassive. Your heart is beating fast and in truth you’re terrified because from the little you know, this man is powerful and ruthless, the last thing you want to do is offend.
But then there’s the faintest lift of the corners of his mouth, those surprisingly full lips, and he sets you properly on your feet again, turning you to face the glass. Cool hands keep hold of your bare shoulders and you’re acutely aware of his body mere inches behind you.
“There are massive gravitational forces at work,” he says quietly right beside your ear. “As it dies, the planet creates geomagnetic pulses; we’re quite safe, but not completely unaffected by them.” As if in response to his explanation, the ship shudders again and you feel an echoing shiver run through your body as Vaako’s thumbs rub gently over the bones of your shoulder. “Sometimes as planets collapse, it is possible to glimpse the Underverse.”
Turning your head, you’re able to see that he’s looking at you intently. And although you feel the pull of something warm deep in the pit of your stomach, you’re acutely aware that you’re in the Dame’s quarters alone with her husband and she could return at any minute.
“I should be getting on,” you breathe, and try to move out of his hold to resume your task. He slides a hand down you arm to stop you, pulling the cloth from your fingers and throwing it away. He grips your wrist securely.
“That can wait Y/N. You’re not her slave you know.” That smile is playing around the Commander’s lips still, and you feel a jolt of anger at his amusement.
“What am I then?” You demand, forgetting that he can crush you in a second if he so desired, that he has probably done so to thousands of your people.
He trails the fingers of his other hand down the skin of your bare arm. “The Dame is... fond of you. She wanted some companionship, a... pet of sorts.”
A pet? That is not what you had expected, to be alive and unconverted because the Dame is lonely and wants a toy to play with. You stare open-mouthed, unsure how to respond.
“I mean no insult; she finds you stimulating company. A slave is expendable, but a pet is to be adored... petted. Of course we would convert you if you would prefer...” he trails off with a shrug.
You shake your head, unable to form the words to refuse the offer. His hands are now loosely holding both your wrists and he’s pulled you closer in against his chest. “And you?” You whisper hoarsely, “What am I to you?”
Vaako smiles that enigmatic half smile. A flash of fire from the decaying planet makes his eyes burn with a red orange glow. “What would you like me to be Y/N?” His tongue darts out to lick his lips and you’re unable to tear your eyes away from his mouth. The fact that he’s the Dame’s husband seems to have temporarily escaped you and you find yourself caught in his magnetic gaze, tilting your head up to his.
He crashes his lips against yours with a satisfied moan, moving them against you hungrily. His tongue presses against you and you open your mouth to let him claim you. There’s a part of you that knows you shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s difficult to follow a lucid train of thought when he’s nipping and sucking at your lips and thrusting his tongue into your mouth in a way that makes you imagine what it would be like if he used it elsewhere. You want to use your hands to fist in his shirt or his hair and pull him closer, but he’s got them pinned by your side.
As he pulls away he licks your lips in an obscene gesture that leaves you whimpering. He chuckles darkly.
“Do you want more?” You’re embarrassed at your obvious need, and simply nod in response. He dips his head to your ear, and licks the spot behind it that makes you gasp before sucking the lobe. “I won’t do anything unless you use your words Y/N,” he breathes.
You swallow hard and manage to stammer out, “I want more... please, Commander.”
Though you can’t see his face, you hear him inhale sharply. “Good girl,” he replies roughly. Then he’s turned you to face the window again, back to his chest, and he places your hands spread on the glass, dancing long slender fingers down your sides to the hem of your vest. He slips his hands under, stroking teasing touches across your stomach before running the flat of his palms up your sides and you shudder.
Vaako grazes the underside of your breasts, as he leans in to press more hot kisses to your neck. “Do you want me to pet you Y/N?” He murmurs, pushing up your top and swiping a thumb back and forth over one of your rapidly hardening nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. He’s powerful, he could take what he wants but he’s asking you, making you complicit. You know that you don’t totally understand the rules of this game, but you want to play.
“Yes,” you bite out between breaths.
“Yes, what?” He growls, and his voice has none of the softness of before.
“Yes... Commander?”
He laughs, pleased with your answer, and rewards you by tugging down the cups of your bra scooping out your breasts to play. You stifle a moan as he squeezes and caresses them and you feel the brush of his breath getting more rapid as he looks over your shoulder at his handiwork. As he sucks a mark onto the skin where your collarbone and neck join, he nips with his teeth and pinches your nipples hard. Your back arches, sensation pooling in your core. Instinctively you grab one of his hands with yours and push your hips back into him, gratified to feel through his loose pants that he’s growing harder.
Grabbing your wrist roughly, Vaako places your hand back on the window and turns your face to him, pinning you with his dark eyes, all the while rolling your nipple lazily between finger and thumb. “They don’t move from there, understand?”
You bite your lip at the sparks shooting from your breast and nod, not trusting yourself to try and form words. His gaze is piercing, and the only clear thought in your head is that he must be able to see that you’re falling apart at his touch.
He leans in. “Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips, resuming his caressing while you kiss. This time though, with one hand he drags cool fingers down your stomach pushing them down under your waistband. He strokes you over your panties until your hips are moving involuntarily, grinding down on his hand, feeling yourself getting wetter, needing more.
Vaako takes his sweet time, but just as you’re considering begging he slips his hand inside your panties, and rubs two fingers up and down the length of your pussy. With one hand still teasing your nipples and the other now stroking your core, you can’t stifle the moans anymore. He breaks away from your kiss, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. He catches your eye in the reflection in the window.
“Fuck,” he groans, “you’re so beautifully wet.” Now he’s using your slick to circle your clit, and while its hard to to focus, you’re aware that he’s pressing you back against him and is moving his hips to press himself against your ass. It might be your imagination, but the cold, stoic Commander is sounding a bit ragged. He rubs your clit harder.
Heat is building in your stomach, coiling and tightening, and you’re desperate for some kind of release. It’s heightened by the chance that the Dame might be back any minute, but you still need something more to push you over the edge. You can feel Vaako thick and erect as he thrusts, and though you can’t take your hands off the window you slide them down so that you can thrust back harder in time with him. Even with the magic his hands are working, it’s still not enough.
“Need you Commander. I want your cock inside me. Please,” you pant, giving your ass an extra wiggle. Suddenly his hands are gone and you whimper at the loss, they’re gripping your hips tightly enough to bruise, stopping you from moving. He pulls you upright again, breathing heavily against your cheek.
“No fucking, just petting,” he groans, emphasising it with a sweep of his hands down to your pussy and back up to squeeze your breasts. And you realise that the Dame must know about this. It’s no accident that the Commander found you alone, he has permission to take care of his wife’s pet.
Your mind races, as you wonder if you would have let it get this far if you had known this. But when it comes down to it, you’re too far gone and you’re sure that this isn’t just a game, he wants this as much as you do. Doesn’t he? The evidence is there in his arousal, hard against your hip, but that’s out of bounds.
“You can use your hands?”
“Yes.”
“Use your fingers then,” you demand, adding, “I need you Commander,” when Vaako cocks an eyebrow at your tone. He chuckles, shifting against you, then he’s manhandling you into a position with legs slightly parted and one foot on the low windowsill, and has tugged your pants and panties down to expose your ass. He gives your breasts some final attention, pinching and twisting one nipple, then the other, and you inhale sharply at the pleasurable sting. Then he’s cupping the cheeks of your ass, groaning at the feel.
Finally he reaches around infront of you and resumes stroking your clit, sliding it between two fingers at a steady pace. He slides his other hand down over your ass between your legs, and dips just the tip of his middle finger inside you, working it in and out teasingly. Gradually he goes deeper, coaxing your arousal to the next level. He plants more kisses on your neck, finding the sensitive place with his tongue that makes you cry out, but you know there’s still more.
“Please,” you beg, and Vaako complies, slipping another long finger into your pussy. You’re so wet that you can hear the sound of your slick as he twists and scissors his fingers inside you, until he finds that rhythm, that perfect motion that brushes your sweet spot and has you squirming and moaning as the pleasure intensifies.
Every sensation is harmonising perfectly, lips and teeth on your throat, the grinding of his rock hard cock against your hip, the feel of your top brushing against your exposed nipples, and his wicked fingers working you closer to climax. Your palms are slick with sweat now, and are slipping on the pane of glass, and your knees are starting to buckle, but the Commander is practically holding you up or you’d be on the floor by now.
As if he can feel the tightening feeling deep in your belly, he picks up the pace and his own breath is coming in short pants. Then you feel the tension snap and you’re screaming his name as everything is crashing over you. Almost unbearable pleasure floods through your body, and you feel yourself clenching uncontrollably around his fingers that are still twisting, milking every last drop of your orgasm out of you.
You slump forward, cheek pressed against the window, watching your breath fog against the cold glass. Vaako takes his hand from your clit and wraps a steadying arm around you. Through the haze you can still feel his erection and you reach around and stroke his length through his loose pants. He freezes at your touch, and you think he’s going to stop you because you’ve disobeyed his orders and this seems to be against whatever rules he is abiding by. But why shouldn’t he have his release?
“Just petting,” you murmur, squeezing gently.
He barks a laugh, then he’s tugging the drawstring of his pants loose and guiding your hand in to grip him skin to skin, hissing as you graze the tip. He moves your hand up and down setting a fast pace. His cock feels huge in your palm and as his other fingers continue to slide in and out of you slowly, the thought of being fucked by the Commander, stretched out, sends aftershocks through your body.
Vaako takes his hand away to brace himself against the window so he can thrust his hips into your hand. Before long he starts to move more erratically, his rhythm stutters and then you feel the hot pulse as he comes with a shout. For a moment you’re pressed between him and the window, until he seems to recover himself. He lets you slip your hand out of his pants and in return he pulls his fingers out of you and you put your clothes to rights.
The Commander turns you to face him, holding you close. You want to look away in embarrassment, but his hot, dark gaze, in the sharp angles of his beautiful face, is mesmerising.
Without breaking it, he lifts the two fingers he so thoroughly fucked you with, still glistening with your juices and puts them into his mouth. He groans as he tastes you, eyes half closing as he licks them clean and then pulls them out with a pop.
“You taste sweeter than nectar Y/N,” he murmurs, brushing a thumb across your lips. “Such a good girl, my sweet thing.” He kisses you again, and this time its slow and sensual, his tongue tangling lazily with yours. Your arms are free to skate up his chest and around his neck to tangle in his hair.
Eventually, reluctantly, Vaako pulls away and you both by silent agreement gravitate back to the window standing side by side to watch the dying planet. The flares of superheated gases have escalated and the fissures in the surface are gaping wounds. It seems to be glowing with an incandescent white light from within.
“It won’t be long now,” he remarks. “My wife will be back from the observatory once it is over.”
“She knows,” you say, more of a statement than a question.
“Yes.” There’s no prevarication, but you think that Vaako is mildly surprised that you have worked this out.
“Have you agreed to share me then?” There’s a sharpness in your tone that you can’t quite hide, at the feeling that this has all been arranged. He turns to you and with a gentle finger tilts your head so that you are looking at him.
“With your consent, Y/N, and within limits. I meant what I said, you are not a slave. You are under my protection for as long as you choose to remain unconverted, whether you wish me to share you or not.”
You’re not quite sure that this is the freedom of choice that Vaako thinks it is, but then he’s a Necromonger and he usually lives in a black and white world of convert or kill. Still, no one else on your world got this choice and this man has defied your expectations so far. There are worse fates you think, still feeling the delicious ache between your thighs.
Suddenly there’s a blinding white light that engulfs the ship, and you shield your eyes with your arm. Vaako wraps one arm around you and braces against the wall with his other, steadying you both as the ship lurches in a rolling motion. The light pulses and then shrinks back on itself, until there is simply darkness.
“Look,” the Commander says, pointing. At the very heart of where the planet was only moments ago, there’s a small patch of the blackness that seems to move and shimmer with slivers of colour like oil. You blink and it’s gone. It might have been a glimpse of the Underverse, or it might never have been there at all, a mere trick of the light.
“Y/N, I find you very desirable. I would be honoured if you would let me come to you again.” Vaako’s voice is soft again, you could almost imagine it was reverent.
In the end, its hardly a choice at all. “I’d like that,” you whisper and you’re sure that the light in his eyes is no trick as he drinks you in.
“Thank you,” he murmurs with the tiny lift of his lips that even on your brief acquaintance you know means he is more pleased than he is willing to let on. “You should know, sweet thing, that one day I intend to taste you properly.”
“I’ll look forward to that, Commander,” you respond. And it’s true. In the midst of this strange existence, you think you might just have found something that for the moment is worth living for.
...
Tagging Urban Shitposters: @musikat18 @yallneedtrek @bkwrm523 @bookcaseninja @fearofdeathkeepsusalive @queenmismatched @goingknowherewastaken @outside-the-government
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