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forasecondtherewedwon · 2 years

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The Real Animals

Fandom: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel Pairing: Midge Maisel/Lenny Bruce Rating: E Word Count: 5277

Summary: Midge distracts Lenny at one of his shows, just to see how he likes it. (Very much.)

Midge tries to keep her face serious as she sneaks around backstage. The women are half-dressed, sometimes just a quarter, and frequently less than that unless you start factoring in the headdresses that poke towards the sky and the feathers that are doing a janitor’s job on the floors and the dangling, beaded strands that drip like gaudy waterfalls between so many sets of buttocks. Among them, she is completely unremarkable. With the men, she must lie. No trouble there. She’s the seamstress, she’s lost, she’s the mother of one of the strippers—that excuse makes the inquirer flee from her the fastest, but she’s rather insulted that they don’t need at least a little convincing to buy that an adult woman could possibly be her biological daughter.

This affront makes her too preoccupied for cover stories; the next person who looks at her questioningly is simply dismissed with a flap of the hand. And then there’s Lenny, smoking like that’s what they’re paying him for. Something makes Midge hang back, just for a minute. She can feel herself smiling. His hair is styled, his suit is neat. He wears that cigarette between his fingers like it’s an accessory. He could pull his tie free of his jacket to reveal a smoldering end, tap the length to scatter ash on the floor, and she wouldn’t be the least surprised, really she wouldn’t. She’s not the one about to go on and he still makes her nervous.

Which is silly, of course.

Midge clears her throat and approaches. The tap on his shoulder startles him. It is a pleasure to watch his expressive face shift from accusation and alarm to boyish delight. Oh boy, oh boy.

“I didn’t hear you coming,” Lenny says, ever-so-charming as he vents smoke from the corner of his mouth to avoid making her cough.

“They made me check my lilt and intensity at the door,” she offers wryly.

“That explains it.”

“Tried to take my coat too, but if I’d given up my coat, they would’ve wanted my hat next, and then, you know, shoes, dress, girdle, and like that—” Midge snaps her fingers. “—they’ve got me up on-stage dressed as Lady Godiva.”

“Famous for her wardrobe, as I recall.”

“Well, they’d have given me a long blonde wig and presumably a child’s hobbyhorse, since I doubt this place has the budget to shell out for the genuine article.”

She stops talking and catches her breath. Lenny’s cigarette is diminishing and she finds herself worrying about what happens when he’s done smoking it. Rare are the instances in which she’s been in this proximity to him and both his hands were unoccupied. If she thinks a little too hard about the dancing, she gets dizzy.

“Would you like to start off with the ‘what the hell are you doing here’s,” she offers, “or should I?”

“I can’t see why you’d ask me, since this meeting does not have the feel of coincidence,” he points out. He says it like this is a riddle and he knows the answer, knows she knows he knows, but is waiting to solve it because he’s having too much fun.

“Even if I did tail you for a block or two—which is very frustrating, by the way, when I walk quickly and you just amble along like a metropolitan cowpoke—I might still be wondering, why this place?”

Lenny smiles his sly, shy Lenny smile at her and Midge pretends the little wobble of her ankle is just her stepping out of the way of a man carrying a flat, wooden palm tree. Must be something tropical on the roster.

“As it happens,” Lenny tells her, “a recent encounter with a friend of mine reminded me of the appeal of doing a set at a burlesque club.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Even more appealing, I’d imagine, when the patrons don’t heckle you to take your clothes off.”

He wags the pair of fingers clamped around his cigarette.

“There’ve been times… though in ninety percent of those, the gentlemen were just very drunk and not seeing so clearly.”

“What was the other ten percent?” Midge has to ask.

“Well, you know! When they get you at the door. Coat, shoes, girdle. That Godiva wig will give you a nasty rash.”

“Mr. Bruce!” somebody shouts. “You’re up!”

Midge feels a lurch in her chest at the prospect of Lenny walking away from her; he’s put out his cigarette, he’s begun to stare in that dangerous and hypnotic way. She raises her eyebrows and pulls up the rest of her expression with them.

“You heard him,” she says. “Move your ass!”

“That is not what the man said,” Lenny informs her.

“No, but it’s what he meant. Trust me, I know the lingo now.”

Lenny gives her an indecipherable smile, unbuttoning and rebuttoning his jacket. She suppresses the instinct to fuss over him. He doesn’t need it anyway—he looks perfect. He turns from her to saunter towards the stage, then stops and swivels.

“So what the hell are you doing here anyway?”

She beams.

“I’m here to distract you.”

“Won’t work.”

Midge narrows her eyes.

“It’s already working, isn’t it?”

“That fucking Godiva comment! That’ll be tough not to picture.”

“Break a leg.”

“Anything to be carried off on horseback.”

Lenny slips away and she scurries back the way she came.

He must’ve chosen this place on impulse, nostalgia for his old shows, because it’s as visibly (and odorously) shitty as the Wolford. Midge kind of loves it. Not the increasingly familiar scents of piss and cheap beer, but the fact that Lenny had this reaction to watching her on-stage the other night. That he wanted a piece of what she’s enjoying—a piece of her, in some ways—even if it is just him copying her copying him.

It's quite a while before she remembers that she really did come here to distract him. He’s just so good: his cadence, his offbeat pauses, every joke ringing like crystal even when his audience is more of a collection of chipped pint glasses. Over and over, Lenny throws his gaze at her like a lifebuoy, the mocking lifeguard checking in to see if she wants saving yet, saving from her own stupid game of thinking she could derail such a consummate professional. Time to show him she’s not a hapless swimmer out of her depth. She’s a shark.

Midge is much less visible out here than she was backstage. For these men, the sight of naked women is still a treat and not a numb condition of their working environs. She isn’t doing the splits on an oversized prop champagne bottle or putting her cleavage in their sightline as she delivers their drinks, so she becomes part of their blurry background, and she likes it that way. The only man who is watching her is the same one who’s being watched by everyone else.

She crosses her legs, pulling her skirt up as she does so. Subtle at first—she could just be getting the bell of fabric out of the way of her knees—then higher. The lighting may be dim, but she knows her pale legs will stand out against the dinginess. Midge shifts on her chair so the table won’t impede Lenny’s view. Then, she just waits for his eyes to fall on her again. It doesn’t take long; no comic can resist playing to his most entertained audience member.

His joke flows on, he doesn’t wink or wolf-whistle, but these are not his tells, and she knows a few of those now, thanks to Miami. She knows she’s distracted him because of two things: the teensiest moment of dead air between one word and the next (that old feeling of not being able to think of anything funny to say before he remembers tonight’s set is already prepared) and the smiling of his eyes. For a guy who can really get on a roll with his jokes, Midge thinks his eyes and hands communicate more than his mouth. But then, she’s never kissed him, so she can’t say for sure.

Showing Lenny some thigh feels sufficiently distracting. Besides, she doesn’t want to hike her skirt so high that her skin comes in contact with this chair (yuck), and she doesn’t want to distract him so badly that it actually hampers his act—though she doesn’t believe she could. She’s proven that plastic straws and crumpled pieces of paper might be a man’s weapons of choice, but a woman doesn’t need anything extra to get the job done. She’s like a Swanson TV dinner. No additional seasoning or cookery required. As long as you like the taste of TV dinners. From the way Lenny’s fingers pass briefly across his mouth before he turns his attention elsewhere, he certainly seems to.

Midge smooths her skirt back down over her knees and behaves for the rest of his set. She is the perfect audience member. If anything, she laughs louder than usual, on her own little adrenaline kick. The other burlesque patrons probably think she’s drunk. The waitresses probably think she snorted something in the bathroom, since none of them have brought her a sloppy cocktail or scuzzy bottle of beer. There’s applause as Lenny closes out his routine, then even louder applause when he walks off and the curtain rises to unveil a mermaid who’s already spilling out of her seashells. No amount of funny is as good as a pair of soon-to-be-naked tits. Not to this crowd. But Midge rises from her seat; they’ve got a mermaid back at the Wolford and unless this one really is half-fish, she ain’t got nothin’ Midge hasn’t seen before.

She won’t chase Lenny around backstage again, but she does find herself lingering in the club’s dirty lobby, taking too long to fasten her coat. He probably won’t come out this way. He’ll know some guy who works here and they’ll be at the back entrance, waving their cigarettes around, exhaling smoke into the fresh night air…

Or he’ll just appear at her side, hand hovering inches from her elbow, waiting for permission to alight on her sleeve like a fucking Disney bluebird.

Midge shapes her surprised gladness into words: “Great set.”

“Thank you, but you should’ve seen the one on the young lady who’s up there now.”

“Oh, I did. I had to leave before I flew at her in a fit of jealousy.”

Lenny’s gaze swoops down to her neckline and she can see the quip forming, but he refrains. When he meets her eyes again—his own sparkling roguishly—there’s somehow more tension than if he’d just said, Why, Mrs. Maisel, it’s no contest. Midge presses her lips together, tasting red Revlon, wanting to get some on Lenny’s crisp, white collar.

“Would you like to go somewhere with me?” he asks her.

“As long as it’s cleaner.”

“The alley across the street maybe,” Lenny suggests, lifting her hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm.

She smiles.

He opens the door for them and they step out into the night.

—

There are still places in this city where people don’t flip over Lenny Bruce—or Mrs. Maisel, come to that, since L. Roy fucking Dunham has kept her in the papers. Lenny leads her to one such establishment and they have a quiet drink. Or, she downs her martini, then fiddles with the toothpick while Lenny rests his forearms on the table, fingers interlaced, and stares at her the way you don’t usually stare at someone unless they’re not looking.

“It was a good show tonight,” he finally says, breaking the hold he has on himself to extract and light a cigarette. He does the same for her.

Midge leans back against the curved booth they’ve concealed themselves in.

“I can’t imagine you miss places like that.”

He dips his face down and angles his gaze up at her. She follows the amusement from his close-shaven chin to the furrows in his forehead. Ah. So they’re going to talk about it.

“Not my show,” he says.

Midge smirks and nods to acknowledge that she’s in the loop.

“I told you, I’ve learned some things working at the Wolf.”

“If you’d learned any more, I may have fallen off the stage.”

“You? No. You’d’ve gotten to the end of your set no matter what I did.”

“And then leapt from the stage,” Lenny vaunts. “Straight into your arms.”

“How athletic.”

“A man has to wonder…”

“A man does have to wonder,” she agrees sprightly, tossing her toothpick into her empty glass. “‘I think, therefore I am.’”

“Which we would of course attribute to…”

He extends a hand towards her and she graciously supplies, “Descartes.”

Lenny looks at her admiringly.

“Very good.”

He perches his finger on his upper lip, hiding his smile like a secret behind a keyhole.

“The man is still wondering,” Midge observes.

“It was more than a friendly amount of leg.”

“More than neighbourly, sure,” she concedes. “More than a ‘can I borrow a cup of sugar? How’s the husband?’ amount, I’ll admit. More than friendly though?”

“The amount suggested carnal knowledge of the husband.”

She cocks her head warningly as his teasing treads a little near to her personal experience of adultery. Lenny raises his palms peaceably. She inclines her head in forgiveness. There’s a pop of his lips as he plucks the cigarette away and blows smoke towards the ceiling.

“We’re dancing again,” Lenny notes.

“We are? Now?”

Midge interprets his words as an invitation to an imminent, intimate salsa; it’s how they stepped and swayed their way into the last one—Lenny telling her, not asking, that they were going to dance. But there’s no music, no singer winding through this bar with a guitar-strumming companion trailing behind. There’s just the two of them, and their booth, and her legs crossed under the table, constantly on the verge of brushing the tip of her shoe against his pantleg.

“We always do,” he says.

Not literal dancing then. Midge smiles softly, lifting her cigarette to her lips.

“I guess we do.”

“You flashed me your legs.”

“That’s nothin’ in a place like that.”

“Your legs are your legs anywhere,” he counters.

“I think they’d underwhelm at the Gaslight. They’ve seen my tits there.”

“Will I be chasing you tonight?”

That brings Midge up short, pauses her nervous jokes. She sits forward a little.

“I think that’s up to you,” she says, tapping ash into the glass dish on their table.

Lenny shakes his head. It might be condescending if it weren’t so sad.

“Is it a chase?” Midge checks. “A minute ago, it was a dance.”

“I’d like it to be.”

“Not up for the footrace, huh?” she asks rhetorically. “So much for that athleticism.”

His knuckles rub across his chin and he assesses her.

“You were just being funny at the club,” he decides, squinting.

She presses her shoe to his calf.

“No, I wasn’t.”

Lenny looks down to the point of contact, then back to her face. She can tell he doesn’t believe her. He’s almost smiling again. Alright, the last time they did this dance—literal and figurative—it ended at the door of a hotel room that she did not enter. He knows how to keep score. But it isn’t Midge’s fault that, at some point, he set her apart. Feel attraction? Sure. Get a mild idolization going as she works the stage on a good night? Acceptable. What she won’t let him make her responsible for is this string he’s tied around both of their hearts. She’s allowed to pull away if she wants to! She’s allowed to close in if she wants to! Only, she never seems to close in.

Midge crushes her cigarette against the glass, then nods towards Lenny’s.

“Put that out,” she says.

His eyebrows twitch upward, but he humours her. Everything she could say rattles across her brain like a procession of train cars. She lays a hand on his tie.

“It’s crooked,” she says. (It’s not.)

Her fingers steeple against the center of his chest, bracing her as she leans close to him.

“May I?” His voice is so quiet. His warm hand slides up the back of her neck.

Midge takes her mouth to his, but it’s Lenny who closes the kiss like a lock. It’s….

The ground may move under the one foot she still has on the floor. She scoots closer in the booth, now gripping his tie, and he tilts his head, pressing his tongue confidently into her mouth. She’s sure feeling this kiss between her legs. She gets a quick gasp of air in and he only comes at her more firmly—for all the hunching of his posture and the hiding of his hands in his pockets and the screening of his smile behind his fingers, the man’s kiss is so self-assured. What a fucking fraud. His other hand takes possessive hold of her waist, pulling her closer, and she releases a noise of pleasure into his mouth.

At that, he draws back, clears his throat. Now she does need to fix his tie and he grins at her while she does it.

“That’s a relief,” he says.

“A big one.”

If he’d been a bad kisser, it would’ve broken her heart.

“My place…” Lenny begins, “…is farther than I’d like it to be.”

“My place is full of my young children, my parents, and, currently, Susie.”

“Charming, but not ideal.”

“Not in the slightest.”

She doesn’t miss how his eyes scan the unbusy bar. They land back on her.

“We shouldn’t,” she says.

“Of course not.”

Face serious, Lenny shakes his head. He leans away from her and withdraws a new cigarette, clamping it in the corner of his mouth while he feels for his matchbook. Midge pinches it from between his lips and hands it to him.

“Give me two minutes to scope out the ladies’. If the coast is clear, I’ll give you the signal.”

Lenny salutes and settles his cigarette back between his lips.

She slides from the booth and flounces towards the rear of the building, arms swinging at her sides with graceful, feminine purpose—the graceful feminine purpose that would horrify her parents and will get her and Lenny banned from this bar. That’s fine; her martini was only middling.

Ducking into the ladies’ room, Midge complains loudly about dining on undercooked sea bass and washing it down with a cream-based dessert. There’s only one woman in there, and she practically bolts for the door, avoiding eye contact with the person who—based on that meal—is about to be wretchedly ill. Midge smiles to herself and cleans up the lines of her lipstick in the mirror before deciding to blot most of it away. It seems prudent.

She strolls triumphantly back to the table, though her heart is beating faster. Lenny gives her a considering look. Midge coyly lifts her dress just above her knees and he lets out his short snap of a laugh, stubbing out his cigarette.

“The signal, I presume.”

“That’s it,” she says, swishing the fabric back and forth like a flamenco dancer before dropping her skirt back into place.

“Alright.”

He escapes the booth and places a hand on her back as they walk quickly to the ladies’ room. They’re both restraining their laughter as they dart inside. Lenny locates the lock high up on the door and bolts them in. And then, of course, they’re alone.

His hands are gentle on her cheek and elbow, cradling her into position to be kissed again. It’s softer with the added privacy, incongruously unhurried. Midge is aware that she’s kissing him as a fan who’s just watched another masterful set, as a friend who’s satisfied to have won his attention for an evening, and as the woman he tried to seduce in Florida. Belatedly, she’s telling him that it was never that she didn’t want to enter his room that night. Holy hell, did she ever want to. But it was the tour, the timing, and, yes, her momentarily skyrocketing career compared to Lenny’s newly-divorced existence as a guy paying for a hotel by the week. Now, it feels like they’re side by side again, back in that police car where they met. Minus the handcuffs and the misery.

Clutch trapped beneath her arm, she slips her hands inside his black jacket and he spins them, guiding her back into the wall. He holds her like an extension of himself. He kisses her like she’s a dream he’s having—delicately, as though to prevent destroying the illusion. Midge smooths her hand to the middle of his back and pulls him in. Her chest heaves against his white shirt.

“Well,” he whispers, lips brushing her cheek.

She smiles to herself and replies, “Well.”

She turns her mouth to his neck as his hand goes to her leg, gradually bunching her skirt up. It’s too warm for hosiery; the taffeta skirt skims her skin. Halfway to her hip, he halts.

“You’re sure…”

Midge puts her hand on his, helping him drag the skirt a little higher. Her nose bumps his jaw as she looks up at him.

“Let’s go, Lenny,” she says, frisky smile contained to the upward curve at the corner of her mouth. “Before I’m dead.”

He laughs, hanging his head so their foreheads touch. She takes her hands from him and opens her clutch. She has a tin of condoms. He can see it. She would explain—likely ramblingly—that she impulsively accepted it inside the Wolford dressing room after the Cancan Mademoiselle remarked on her rapport with “that handsome comic,” that she’s come to trust those girls a ton in this particular realm, that she’s advocated for their improved working conditions and they want her to stick around, that one way to ensure she does is to help her not get pregnant, but she doesn’t say any of it because Lenny smiles. Could be that he’s guessed it all, or he’s devised an alternate explanation for how these condoms ended up in her possession. He doesn’t offer it and she keeps the truth to herself. Maybe his story is better.

The hand not rucking her skirt dips into the clutch, opens the tin, and removes a condom between two fingers. His eyes land on hers, seeming to ask, Is this one a good choice? Midge rolls her lips and clicks her clutch closed, tossing it aside. She’ll have Zelda wash it. Zelda can wash anything. She holds her skirt for Lenny and he cocks his head, playfully brazen as his hands go to his belt. Leather slaps open. A zipper descends. He caresses her hips over her dress, and then under it.

“There’s normally a lot more engineering going on under my dress,” Midge volunteers. She’s corseted but girdle-free; not a lotta necessary to-do. “You’re lucky.”

“Very.”

His smirking mouth comes down on hers and he hooks his fingers into her underwear to lower them. His fingertips skate to a place that makes her grasp his lapel. He’s working his fingers over and over her, her biggest rush since the Apollo. Would it be too shocking to put her hand on him with the same level of conviction? The man has been arrested for obscenity, but Midge is no fool regarding how even the bluest male comedians still expect all women to be either strippers or demure housewives. She doesn’t know Lenny’s expectations for this territory. He could surprise her with his conservativism: I touch you, you don’t touch me. But she’s at her best when she’s herself, like she told Susie. Entirely different context.

Midge’s hands join Lenny’s under her dress and she pries the condom from between his fingers. She removes the paper band. He jerks, then laughs lightly against her lips when she wraps her fingers around his cock.

“There you are, Mrs. Maisel,” he mutters.

“I thought you might be giving me my cue.”

“I am a decent dance partner—not exceptional, but decent.”

His hands are occupied, nothing to hide behind when she strokes him, relishing the way he swallows and exhales hard. She’s going to put the condom on him—she is, really—but she can’t get over the feel of him on her palm, the flush blooming across his face. He stares her dead in the eye and continues rubbing her. Nothing is funny. Not a damn thing in the world.

Midge rolls her hips with his hand, feeling him stiffen further in her grip. He shuffles forward and she lets him go, relinquishes the condom when he takes it back from her. In a very unladylike move, she flips up her dress and tucks the hem into her neckline. Lenny smiles like this is a life-or-death situation and she’s just debuted the one skill that can save them. Very little feels as good to her as his approving smile. It’s kind of scary.

His hand runs along the back of her thigh a few times as though he’s savouring her before he grabs and lifts it. Kissing her, he aligns himself and presses inside. Since he hasn’t had his fingers in there, it isn’t quick going, but Midge holds him close as he advances in short, steady thrusts. He’s flattened her to the wall and their hearts beat like boxers trading punches, never parrying, just matching every blow in close combat. In as deep as he can get, he winds an arm around her back, gripping her waist. She forgets he’s taller than this, then he straightens out of a slight crouch. Her heels lose contact with the floor, so she wraps the leg he’s not supporting around his hip. Lenny breaks off the kiss and, eyes shut, sighs in fathomless relief. Midge watches her own hand go to his cheek and cup the outline of his face, tracing it under her palm.

He doesn’t open his eyes, so she closes hers too, resting her face against his. Her arms cross around the back of his neck, but once she’s positioned more securely against him and his thrusts are lengthening, Lenny reaches up and trails his fingers over her wrist. It’s how he touched her when they danced in the more traditional sense—though, what could be more traditional than this? Gently, he brings her arm to the wall. The motion is tender when he glides his open palm across hers, then it’s something else when his fingers encircle her wrist.

“Lenny,” Midge gasps, not in protest. When she draws back and opens her eyes, he’s staring into them.

He leans in until their lips graze when he says, “Miriam.”

Inside her, she tightens around him and Lenny emits a stuttering grunt. His head rocks like a drifting rowboat adapting to the water’s changing chop. He kisses her, pulling at her lips three times before he bows his head and nips her neck. Midge’s leg tenses around him, urging him deeper. With his hand pinning her arm to the wall, she has to use the one around his shoulders for leverage, rising and falling against him, Lenny’s hips moving like a kick, as sharp as his laugh. Their clothes rustle in passing, they inhale the scent of each other’s hair products.

She’s a mother. If that’s taught her anything at all, it’s how to have sex quietly. However, every time she gets a handle on her pleasure, holding in a moan, Lenny speeds up or tilts his hips a little differently or rests more of his weight against her—constantly something to create new and unanticipated sensations. He is a Wonderlier salesman and she is a roomful of housewives plagued by quotidian kitchen messes: it’s impossible not to cry out in pure joy.

“I don’t know how we explain this to the barkeep,” Lenny huffs.

“I’m drawing a blank,” she breathlessly agrees.

He manages a smug smile and Midge tugs her arm from his grasp. That smile just doesn’t look right until its partially obscured by her fingers.

Lenny drives into her harder, hand massaging her thigh like he hasn’t already guaranteed she’ll bruise. It entertains her—that she exposed a certain amount of leg to him and he saw fit to mark her just a little higher than that, even if it wasn’t on purpose.

As though there’s a wrestling adjudicator giving out points, he takes her arm back to the wall. His hand steals up into hers, not with their fingers intertwined, but a controlling dance hold. Lead me, she dares with her eyes and he’s so close—fucking neighbourly—mashed right up against her, that everything drags and she shivers her way into orgasm.

“Oh god, Lenny,” she mumbles. Her face feels numb as she says the words, a swell of feeling elsewhere.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he blurts, straining into her, both hands flinching on different parts of her body.

So that’s curtains for the both of them.

Like a doll or a Rockette toy soldier, she sags in his arms, blinking her way out of a shuddery haze. She isn’t ready for the affection in his eyes when she opens hers. It almost stops her breath; he has all the tenderness of a disciple of Otis. He’s tired, beneath his eyes, but he wears his care there too. There’s a hell of a lot of it. Lenny shrugs like he knows what she sees and it can’t be helped, extending the gesture into the motion of setting her down on her unsteady feet. One last seeking kiss and he turns away from her.

While he efficiently disposes of the condom and washes his hands at the sink, Midge rights her dress. She pulls her underwear on and pats her shoulders, feeling for her coordinating coat, trying to put herself back together, but she left the coat in the booth. She’ll have to grab it on her way out of this place, and hopefully not on her way into the back of a police car for committing an act of public indecency. If anybody called the cops over a ruckus in the ladies’ room, she’ll kick them in the shins, maybe throw an earring at their head. She scoops her clutch off the floor and it’s as reassembled as she can get until Lenny looks her way.

His eyes move over her from head to foot, like they’re about to do what they just did. Swivelling on the smooth soles of his shoes, he approaches her and watches as she fluffs her hair before reaching for his. Lenny dodges and slicks it into place himself. His hand settles in front of his mouth and he bites the tip of his thumb as he smiles.

“Dull bar,” he comments.

“Oh, forgettable.”

“You, on the other hand…”

Midge is a natural-born simperer. Her smile broadens as she notes the smudge of colour on Lenny’s collar—she got him after all.

“Has the itch been scratched?” she inquires, holding her clutch primly against the front of her skirt.

“I’ve made an awful mistake.” His hand shoots out with a decisive, condemning flick. “It seems that the itch, once scratched, only intensifies.”

“So, we’ll have to do this again.”

“Ceaselessly.” He offers his hand and she takes it, grinning as he spins her into his body, her back to his chest. Lenny ducks his head to kiss the slope of her shoulder into her neck. He speaks against her skin: “Like animals.”

#my writing #The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel #tmmm #Midge Maisel #Lenny Bruce #Midge x Lenny #Lenny x Midge #tmmm spoilers

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lustspren · 3 years

Text

Dancing Lessons

LOONA Yves X Everglow Sihyeon

3641 words.

Categories: smut, lesbian, oral, fingering

Sooyoung carefully observed each of the movements of the girl in front of her, her elbows resting on her knees and her hands clasped under her chin as she studied every little detail of her body. Her lines were perfect, graceful and delicated like a ballet dancer; her technique, precise and visually pleasing. She gave off talent, there was no doubt about it, but something was wrong ...

"Stop, stop," interrupted the dance teacher, standing up. "What the hell was that?"

Sihyeon stopped over her position, confused at the sudden interruption.

"Ah ... what did I do wrong?" She asked, tilting her head. "I was doing very well ... or so I think ..." slowly she lowered her gaze, seeing her hands meet in her belly.

"Where the hell are your facial expressions?" You look like a dancing robot, you don't convey anything to me, it's just empty dance sequences.

Sooyoung took a few menacing steps toward her, her hands spread out on either side of her body as she waited for an answer. Sihyeon couldn't find a way to meet her eyes, and thus, there was no answer.

"What are you, a robot?" Are you? ”The older woman stood in front of her with her arms crossed.

"No ... Miss Ha ..." Sihyeon replied in a low, trembling voice.

"Look me in the eye when I'm talking to you."

She cupped her chin with her thumb and index finger, making her lift her face and meet her deep gaze. The distance between them was moderated at first, but Sooyoung took a step in front of her, remaining a few inches from her face.

"I'm a bad teacher ... Sihyeon-ssi?" Asked the older one in a somewhat calmer voice.

It required a great deal of mental effort on Sihyeon's to even be able to organize her thoughts. Her mouth, slightly parted from physical exhaustion, and her face, were completely paralyzed. The only things that remained active in her were her bright puppyish eyes and her heart, which was beating at a thousand per hour.

Although she wanted to express herself in words, her response was a slight movement of the head from side to side, signaling her disagreement.

"So I thought ... look at you, so pretty ... so ... perfect ..." the hand that had held her chin now went up and down her cheek, caressing it with the back of it. "I wonder how beautiful you can be if I can make your face twist just a little... "

Sihyeon, who was in a trance, finally blurted out coherent words from her mouth. Words that had been born from a combination of despair, fear, desire and love.

"Soooyoung-unnie... kiss me," she finally said, giving in to her deepest and most hidden temptations.

"If you want so...

Without thinking twice, the older one placed her free hand on the right side of her torso and ended the short distance that separated them, joining in a slow and passive kiss that with the passing of the seconds became intense and spirited. Sooyoung cradled Sihyeon's small face with both hands, adopting a certain dominance that allowed him to invade her mouth; soon, both tongues were involved in a passionate dance that did anything to lower the temperature of the environment.

Gripped by lust, Sihyeon let out little moans from her throat, signs that the sensual act was turning her on much more than she should. It was from a slight tingle from her lower abdomen to her crotch that she gave in to her desire.

"Unnie ... touch me please ... I need you." she managed to say between slight gasps as she separated from the kiss for lack of air.

"Who in her right mind would refuse to please such an innocent and pretty princess? ..." Sooyoung lowered her hands to her waist, clinging to her as if she were her property. She wasn't that far from reality either.

Sooyoung used her control over the situation to press her against her body, planting one last kiss on her lips before diving into her neck. Sihyeon's body was still damp from sweat, but Sooyoung couldn't care less.

Sihyeon tilt her head to one side, giving Sooyoung green light to kiss and bite every little corner of it. She wasn't worried about her leaving any mark, she was so trapped by her that she could easily do anything she asked without even complaining.

Her hands went straight to the nape of Sooyoung's neck, taking off her hat and tossing it to the ground so she could tangle his fingers in her pretty hair. In that position she was right in front of her ear, so that she could clearly hear how slight moans came from her mouth, caused by the work of the older woman on her neck.

Inadvertently Sihyeon was now cornered against the hall's mirrored wall. Sooyoung left her neck for a moment, now making a path of small kisses along the entire line of her chin until they ended up on her lips, stifling a low moan from the black-haired woman.

With the girl right where she wanted her, Sooyoung hands slowly moved up her abdomen, feeling her skin brush against her fingertips until they reached her breasts, gently squeezing them over the top under her shirt. Sihyeon never wore very revealing clothes, so she might not otherwise have realized how well endowed she was. She unwittingly she was going crazy for making her hers, seeing her pretty face twisted with pleasure and hearing how she moaned her name.

She wasted no time in getting down to business. In a matter of seconds both girls were semi naked from the waist up, their only obstacle now was the black sport top that the black-haired woman was wearing. She was about to remove it as well, but to her surprise, the youngest took the initiative to remove it herself, without any shyness or nervousness. At that moment she noticed that she was not the same as before, the Sihyeon she knew was reserved and barely knew how to move a muscle on her face, but now she looked different, with somewhat agitated breathing, messy hair and a look full of sensuality. It was like having Aphrodite herself at her mercy, to do whatever she wanted with her. Sooyoung, stunned by her astonishing beauty, didn't even know how to react.

"Sihyeonnie…" she softly said.

"What are you waiting for? I'm all yours… ”Sihyeon grabbed her own breasts with her hands to tease Sooyoung, giving each one a little squeeze.

That was the last straw. Sooyoung brought her lips together again for a short but intense kiss before returning to her neck, starting a long kissing trail from her collarbone to her shoulders and leaving the main course for last.

She held onto Sihyeon's wrists, carefully pulling her hands away from her so that he could insert one of her breasts into her mouth. A loud moan escaped of her mouth as Sooyoung sucked and licked her hardened nipple; Her hands were not still, one gently pinching her other nipple, while the other massaged and squeezed the mound she was working on. Sihyeon's hands ended up on her head again, her fingers gripping her hair in a desperate attempt to get more of the pleasure she was already receiving.

For the first time, her face gave subtle glimpses of how she felt, her bent eyebrows and her mouth parted from her gasps were just one of the few signs Sooyoung had of her to know that she was making a good job. Sihyeon had a long time with the need to be truly pleased, previously, her ex-partner didn’t do the best of jobs when it came to intimacy, so the skillful and amazing stimuli that she received were like traveling to the heaven.

After given enough attention to each nipple, Sooyoung returned to the lips of the black-haired woman, sowing a couple of short kisses while she brought his hands to her back, removing her bra and being on an equal status with Sihyeon. But not for much longer.

Sooyoung took her by the hips, turning her around and leaving her face a few inches from the mirror. She placed her hands on her waist while placing small kisses on the nape of her neck, her right shoulder and then her back, until she ended up on his knees behind her. Sihyeon turned her face as best she could, seeing her with her pretty gaze full of lust.

With her fingers hooked in the seam of her leggings, Sooyoung slowly brought them down until they reached her ankles, where Sihyeon finished pulling them off her after desperately taking off her sneakers. The only thing separating her now from her target was a pair of white panties, already damp from the growing arousal that she had built up for a few minutes.

"You have such a beautiful butt…" Sooyoung softly said, stroking both of her cheeks up and down, randomly stopping to give them a strong squeeze. "Are you really all mine?"

"Y-yes ... as long as you want ... as many times as you want", answered the minor between small whimpers, involuntarily pushing her hips back to get closer to Sooyoung's face.

"Look how wet you are, princess. So needy ... you require special attention."

Sooyoung brought two fingers of her right hand right to the center of her cleft, rubbing them from top to bottom slowly and moistening them with her fluid. She wasn't going to keep her waiting much longer.

Exactly as she did it before, Sooyoung now removed her panties in a matter of seconds, throwing them along with the rest of the clothes and now leaving the girl completely naked, with her pussy shining in fluids.

She repeated the same thing as before, rubbing her pussy up and down with two of her fingers as she repeatedly kissed the inside of her asscheeks. As a few seconds passed she grasped both of her cheeks and parted them, making her way to place her tongue flat against her wet flesh.

"Oh god…" Sihyeon moaned, feeling Sooyoung's eating her pussy, collecting all its fluids with the tongue.

Few time passed until her moans began to grow in quantity, caused by the increase in intensity in the movements of the tongue that was slowly driving her to madness. Her hips acted with own life, pulling back thanks to the little spasms that invaded her body. The only support she had from her was the mirror, which perfectly reflected how her face was twisted with pleasure.

Sooyoung couldn't see her due to her current position, but both her moans and her sudden spasms were proof that she had found the perfect spots. Knowing this, she continued for a few seconds, alternating the speed of her movements to make sure she did not reach orgasm so quickly. She wanted to be able to see her when that happened.

Finally the older woman stopped, standing up so she could see Sihyeon's gasping face, her breathing quite choppy from hers. Not finished yet, Sooyoung leaned on with her side in the mirror to one side of her, looking directly to those cute eyes, her fingers working in circles over her clit.

"I need to cum, please… put them inside me," Sihyeon begged between little moans, leaning to Sooyoung to give her a desperate kiss.

"You don't even have to beg me," the older replied in the middle of the kiss, bringing her index and middle fingers inch by inch inside her, causing a moan so loud it made her separate from the kiss.

“Fuck!” As she was closer to her, Sihyeon rested one of her hands on Sooyoung's shoulder, holding onto it tightly.

When she was fully inside her, Sooyoung began to move her wrist back and forth, slowly at first, but soon set a more intense and consistent rhythm, feeling the inner walls of her pussy getting tighter around her fingers with every pump. Sihyeon quickly turned into a completely mess.

"It feels so good… so good!" Ah! Sooyoungie! ”Sihyeon moaned with her head hanging down, being astonishingly fucked by Sooyoung long fingers.

The spasms of her body began to get worse by each second that passed, Sooyoung had to make a great effort so that she did not collapse at any moment, encircling her torso with her left arm as she quickly pump her fingers in and out her pussy.

Her gaze never left her face, it was everything she always wanted to see in her. Sooyoung could only see her as a beautiful ice princess, cold and unemotional until now, with her face and body turned into a pretty mess.

"Look me in the eye when you cum…" Sooyoung whispered into her ear.

Sihyeon complied with the order immediately, getting her back as straight as she could to be face to face with the older one. She didn't have much left to reach her peak, the strong tingles in her belly and around her crotch were about to make her explode. She bit down hard on her own lip, holding in her agitated, loud moans as she approached her orgasm.

"I'm going to cum, hmm ... ah!" Sooyoungie! ”Sihyeon yelled after a few seconds, being approached by the strongest orgasm she had ever experienced. It was very helpful that at that time of night there was no one in the studio, otherwise everyone would have been able to hear the great uproar that the black-haired woman was causing at that time.

Sooyoung hugged her tightly, preventing her from collapsing on her knees. Her face was like looking at a beautiful Renaissance painting, a work of art worth framing in her memory and then keeping under lock and key. Gradually the movement of her fingers subsided, until finally her orgasm passed.

Without saying anything, the two came together again in a kiss more affectionate and soft than any of the previous ones.

"I… ah… that was… unbelievable," Sihyeon gasped after a few seconds, her breathing still messed up.

"I hope your facial expressions improve after this, cutie, you're very good," Sooyoung replied, giving her a last little kiss on the lips.

"Thank you ... but ... this isn't over yet, I don't want to be the only satisfied."

Sihyeon took her by the hand, guiding her to the couch from which she watched her dance a minutes ago. Sooyoung sat first in the center of this one, feeling the hard leather against her bare back as she sank a little into the seat. Her gaze did not detach from the monument in front of her for a single moment, scrutinizing every little detail of her body. In an instant the minor straddled her lap, working with her hands to unbutton the jeans that were already beginning to be a nuisance; when she got there, she leaned forward to take her face in her hands and kiss her again.

Sooyoung took the moment to comfortably explore her body, feeling her creamy and perfect skin against her fingertips from her legs, through her butt, her back, and ending on her breasts, which she gently squeezed in her hands. At the same time, the youngest got her hand inside her jeans, bringing her fingers to brush up and down over her slit and feeling how the wetness was seeping between her thin fabric.

To to save her effort and be able to continue kissing her for a few more seconds, she lifted her hips to slide her jeans and her underwear off her legs, including her shoes.

With both bodies completely naked, the degree of intimacy of the moment was increased. Both hands traveled from one corner to another, seeking to feel more and more of the other's body with each small movement; the friction between her skin, the affectionate kiss and above all, the heat that was transmitted, made the moment much more pleasant than any other sexual act.

"Soooyoungie ..." Sihyeon said in a low voice, parting only a few inches from her to see her eyes. "Do you want to date with me?"

"It's not the best time to ask a question like that, Miss Kim ..." the older one put a hand on her face, tracing the outline of her lower lip with her thumb. "I’d love to date with you’’.

The answer drew a broad smile on Sihyeon.

"Well, now relax, your ice princess will make you feel very ..." Sihyeon massaged Sooyoung’s shoulders. "Very good." She wanted to sound sexy, but the reality was that her words came out with all the shyness and the softness of the world. Touched by her cuteness, Sooyoung nodded to give her a small kiss.

All the previous history was now repeating itself in reverse. Sihyeon attacked directly at her neck, delivering sweet and careful kisses, then lowered himself to her collarbone, and then made a stop at her small but beatiful breasts. She was somewhat insecure at first due to her lack of experience, but as she gained more and more confidence, her stimuli turned into something that made Sooyoung moan under her breath.

She brought one of her nipples to her mouth, licking slowly and in circles, taking small pauses to suck on it gently. Seconds later she moved on to the other, moving her tongue up and down and repeating the process, followed by a few massages to both mounds.

After a minute her mouth fell from the center of her chest to her favorite part of her body: her toned and strong abs. Sihyeon went crazy every time she saw her at rehearsals for this reason, aside from being a gorgeous and incredibly sexy woman, her worked abs were the reason for many of her distractions.

She didn't waste even a moment as she got off the couch and caressing her entire torso, enjoying the feeling of having her all to herself. She centered her kisses around her navel, from where she lowered to her pelvis and subsequently her pubic area, anticipating what she was waiting for so long.

"Be patient with me, yes?" I don't usually do this very often... not to say I never have," Sihyeon warned, looking into her eyes.

"I don't do it very much either... ah!

Sooyoung found herself interrupted by a loud moan, caused by the sudden warmth of her tongue against her slit. Her hand went straight to Sihyeon’s hair, pulling it away from her face and holding it between her fingers so it wouldn't get in the way.

Sooyoung lifted her feet onto the couch, spreading her legs wider to give her better access to her pussy. For Sihyeon it was somewhat difficult to establish a rhythm since it was her first time doing such a thing, she was only looking at how she reacted to certain motions so she could repeat them. That's how she went from unsteady movements to making Sooyoung squirm on the couch.

"F-fuck… you are a quick learner, right?" Sooyoung complained, hunching over a bit.

Sihyeon ignored her question, focusing all the attention on the little button located on the top of her pussy, using the tip of her tongue to stimulate her faster and faster. Like her dedication to making her feel amazing, Sooyoung's moans grew in both quantity and volume.

She was attacking her clit in a agressive way, capturing it from time to time between her lips to move her tongue in different directions. Sooyoung held onto her hair even tighter, pushing her face forward in search of more pleasure. Involuntarily her legs were closing, crushing both sides of the girl's face with her thighs.

"Sihyeonie… I'm close…" the older one managed to say with great difficulty, between loud moans.

Hearing this, the black-haired woman took two of her fingers to the entrance of her pussy, rubbing against it before introducing them without any warning inside her.

“Oh fuck, fuck!” Sooyoung moaned even louder, adjusting her posture on the couch to control her spasms.

Her fingers were pumping faster and faster, that, together with the stimuli carried out by her tongue, led to a wild chain of moans easily audible to anyone who passed by outside the study. It was a matter of seconds for Sooyoung to reach ecstasy.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" Ah! Honey!

Sooyoung let out one last moan, squirming in her seat as intense waves of pleasure ran through his entire body. She tightened her thighs around Sihyeon's head, reaching the point of suffocating her for a few seconds, but she couldn't have cared less about it, it was totally worth it.

A few seconds later, when her orgasm had passed, she released her legs to slowly lower her feet to the ground. With her breath still shaking, Sooyoung tugged on Sihyeon's arm, she understood immediately, sitting next to her to give her a nice and affectionate kiss.

"Did I do it right?" She asked her somewhat unsure.

"You did amazing, apparently dancing isn't the only thing you're good at." Sooyoung joked with a mischievous smile.

"Come on, what are you saying." Sihyeon gave her shoulder a little nudge, taking on a reddish hue to her cheeks.

"Look at the mess we've made." The older one pointed her chin in front of her, the room was full of clothes everywhere.

"Let's ignore that for a moment, let me be a little bit like this with you."

Sihyeon wrapped her arms around her body, snuggling up beside her with his face hidden in her neck. Sooyoung passed one of her arms over her head and another around her body, strengthening her warm embrace a little more. Being slowly washed away by exhaustion, the two of them fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

#loona smut #everglow smut #yves smut #sihyeon smut #yves #sihyeon #kpop smut #lesbian smut #lesbian #loona #everglow

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 10 - The Fifth Year (Part Four)

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. Chapter Warnings: Dark magic, violence, magical torture.

A/N> I really hope i don't put this fic into another hiatus, but i got a feeling i will. The only I can promise is to finish it. Hope you all like this chapter.

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Part X - The Fifth Year (Part Four)

You walk beside Headmistress Harkness in silence, deeper into the dungeons of the castle.

She leads you to a wooden door, and then you enter a large stone room, which you imagine to be an office for the study of ancient runes, as you notice the symbols around the room, carved into the rocks and the corners of the walls.

"Professor, what did we come here for?" You ask with your arms folded across your chest, feeling your body shiver slightly at the creepy atmosphere in the room.

"I am going to help you reach your true potential, Miss Stark." She declares simply and waves her wand.

You feel your body being pushed until you are in the center of the room, your arms uncrossing and stretching out at your body's side, but soon there are thick iron chains conjured around your ankles and wrists.

Letting out a surprised exclamation, you look at Harkness in fear, but she is muttering softly, and walking around while touching the runes with her wand, and the symbols light up a purple glow one by one.

"Professor, what's going on?" You question trying to struggle against the chains, which seem to get tighter with each movement. You let out a grunt of pain.

"Stop fighting." She orders as she turns to you, her gaze assessing your face. "It's almost time, it will be painful if you resist."

"What are you talking about?"

But Agatha didn't answer and walked back behind you. You deduced that she was touching the runes on the walls at your back, because you could hear the rustling on the rocks, and then she came back into your field of vision.

She rummaged through her pockets, and pulled out a small watch.

"Now, now, you're almost late." She remarks, and looks back at you with a little smile. "I bet Erik asked about Pietro."

You frowned, but Agatha looked away, moving to the cabinet in the corner of the room. She returned with four candles in her hands, and deposited them around you.

You watched her use her wand to make the candles stand perfectly still in the four corners, and then light itself. You felt your heart race. Agatha was going to do a ritual with you. Of what exactly you had no idea. And judging by the events, it couldn't be good.

"Professor..."

"Quiet." She interrupts earnestly, one finger raised in the air while she looks back at the clock. You wriggle uncomfortably, and it takes only a moment for Agatha to let out a sigh and turn to you. "Let's get started."

You were about to ask again, but Agatha raises her wand toward you and mutters words you don't recognize.

Your vision dims for a second and then you think you are having another vision, but you cannot understand exactly what it is.

It looks like the nightmares you had with Mephisto, but everything is quieter. You can only hear your own footsteps, but it is as if you were walking on water.

The shelves in the ministry are completely empty, and the image is dull.

This time you are not looking for something. You are calling out to someone.

You walk and you walk, and then you come to the center of a room. And you choke when you see yourself.

But your face is completely bloodied, and you are whimpering in pain.

"I found you." The voice is Mephisto's, but you don't see him anywhere. Your bruised self is dying, and you begin to feel desperate, but when you try to scream for help, what comes out are the words. "Where is it? Find it for me!"

"I don't know." Your self whines. "And if I did know I wouldn't tell you."

"Filthy half-blood!" The voice that is your accuses, and then there is a red light and your bruised self screams in pain. It is the cruciatus curse, and it only stops after a moment. "I have no time for your lies. I'll end it at once."

You gasp and are back in Agatha's room, falling to your knees.

"What was that?" You manage to ask as you try to calm your breathing, grumbling in pain as you realize that the sudden movement has made the chains hurt your wrists.

"That was just what it took to get Wanda away from the castle." Agatha replies as she lowers her wand. You frown in confusion, but the woman is getting closer. She makes a motion with her hands and you feel a sharp pain on the tip of your forehead, and you grumble.

A little blood trickles down her face, but it doesn't hurt that much, and you figure it's just a small cut. Ancient runes are not your specialty, but it's not hard to imagine that she just drew one on your skin.

"What do you want from me, professor?" You ask half breathlessly, feeling your body weak. Agatha is muttering some incantations, and you feel as if your energy is slowly being drained away.

When she stops, you can barely keep your eyes open.

"Now we will wait a little while, dear." She says as she kneels in front of the candled square she created. "Wanda needs time to get to the ministry."

You shook your head, feeling your vision go blurry and your mouth go dry. Agatha sighed before she stood up, and you were surprised that she brought you water.

"I don't want you to collapse now, we're not even halfway through it." She declared as she forced the small bottle against your lips. You grumbled, but she held your chin tightly and forced you to drink.

It wasn't water, but it didn't taste bad.

"There you go, drink it all." She guided and only when the item was empty she pulled away. With a flick of her fingers, the bottle disappeared and you gasped as you felt a wave of heat pass through your entire body.

It was a potion of vigor, and although confused and frightened, you had no physical discomfort.

"What did you do to me?" You questioned between teeth. Agatha moved around the room, grabbing one of the books from the bookshelf. She muttered something about making sure she was doing everything right, before she stopped standing in front of you.

"Isn't it obvious, my dear?" She retorted with debauchery. "And I thought you would be smarter, but perhaps the hat was wrong."

Agatha crouched down again, and put the book down on the floor in front of you. You looked down to notice that it was open on a page that contained a map of England.

Before you could ask, she was forcing your head down, and you grunted in pain. When your blood dripped onto the paper, she let go.

"Thank you, dear." She declared without looking at you. "Now let's find out how close they are."

You gasp in surprise when your blood moves on the paper, circling around the lines of the map. Agatha makes a noise with her mouth in contentment.

"Ah, judging by the speed, I'm sure they used the thestrals." She comments. "I suppose Miss Quinn joined the quest in the end."

You look at the professor with confusion, but she is already raising her fingers to your forehead.

"Let's take a peek." She declaims, and you feel your skin burn where she touches it. Your vision dims for a second before you see the sky.

You are mounted on something, and you look around to see all your friends mounted on thestrals, flying beside you. You want to ask what is going on, but soon realize that you are just watching.

"Are we far away?" Gamora asks beside you.

"No! Just a few more minutes." It is Tony who answers from the front horse. He looks upset, all of them do in fact.

You want to shout to ask, but your vision dims and you are back on your feet.

Agatha lets out an impatient sigh as you pant in pain, trying to understand exactly what is going on.

"It's a pity." She mumbles to herself and you force yourself to ask.

"What is it?"

"Mephisto takes no prisoners, Miss Stark." She replies. "I hadn't expected your friends to interfere, it's really a pity. Perhaps you should already pick out a dress for the memorial ceremony."

"What are you talking about?"

"In reality it's your fault of course." She declares with a mischievous giggle and you stare at her in confusion. Agatha sighs humorously, as if what she is telling you is obvious. "Silly girl, the cloak of course! The legendary invisibility cloak that you lent to your dear brother."

"What?"

Agatha rolled her eyes.

"It's not funny when you don't know what I'm talking about." She commented impatiently and leaned against one of the pillars of the hall, her arms crossed. "But I think we have time until they reach the ministry, so let's talk a little."

You think the effect of the potion is wearing off too quickly, but you force yourself to keep your gaze on Agatha.

"The story is much simpler than you might imagine, of course." She begins. "I needed to find a way to help Wanda unleash her power completely, and you were the solution to all my problems." She says with a nostalgic chuckle, and you look at her wide-eyed.

Your vision is darkening again, and Agatha notices by your tired expression, so she lets out a laughing exclamation and moves around the room. When she returns, there is a wooden compartment in her arms, which she lays on the floor. You notice the dozens of small glass jars, and she forces you to drink another one.

"Dear, Dear, there you go. There's no reason to look so pale, you just need a little encouragement." She smiles at her own pun, and you move your head to push her touch away, making her laugh before turning away.

"Where was I? "Oh yes, in the beginning." She asks rhetorically, her posture amused. "I'm going to assume that Erik told you about the nature of Wanda's powers, dear, it would be sad to know that he didn't after so much."

"He did." You grumble and Agatha smiles.

"Oh, great." She says. "Well, of course he said what I told him, of course. But he couldn't know everything. He wouldn't approve of my methods. As a father and as a wizard I suppose."

You sighed lightly, your body was shaking, like a fever, but the potion was keeping you pain-free.

"Professor..."

"Don't interrupt!" She cuts off quickly, but her tone is amused. "What an education you've been giving at Hufflepuff, my goodness. Maybe the hat should have sent you to Gryffindor, you would have learned better about manners."

You clenched your jaw and Agatha giggled a little before continuing.

"I told Erik that you two should stay apart, and he bought that story like the fool he always was." She comments with amusement and you feel your stomach sink.

"Was it you?"

"Don't make that face, honey." She says. "I couldn't risk you getting in my way."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Agatha sighs impatiently.

"Your bond, Miss Stark!" she retorts as if it were obvious, "I needed to shape Wanda's progress according to my agenda. If you were around her, you could develop the bond and your abilities would be a problem."

You looked at her with confusion and Agatha took another look at the map before looking back at you.

"They are arriving, shall we take another peek?"

"Tell me what you want to say!" You ask, but the witch just ignores you while touching your forehead again. You gasp in pain, but this vision is quicker.

You see a dark concrete, and a tall door. And then Agatha brings you back.

"Great, they're at the ministry." She mumbles as she releases you, you gasp helplessly, your head weighing down. But Agatha brings another vial of potion to your lips. "This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better I'm sorry to say, Miss."

You motion for her to take the bottle from your lips, but she insists that you drink it all and only backs away when you do.

"What do you know about my bond with Wanda?" You question next, feeling the elixir kick in again.

"Everything." She states simply and you look at her. "How it was made, how to break it and how to improve it."

Agatha draws her wand toward you again and you widen your eyes.

"Let's make sure she remembers why she''s there, dear." She speaks before bewitching you.

You watch yourself being tortured again, but now the shelves are full.

When you return, you fall flat on your face on the floor.

Agatha approaches with a grimace, pulling your hair to make you look at her again, and you grunt in pain.

"Do you need another potion or can you stay awake?" She asks.

"Fuck you."

Agatha laughed and let go of your hair, you managed to keep your head away from the floor by millimeters.

"I'm being so nice and you so badly behaved."

"You chained me to the ground." You retort with indignation.

Agatha rolls her eyes, crossing her arms as she leans against the pillar again.

"This is only to keep you from disappearing." She comments causing you to raise your eyebrows. "Oh, right, I forgot that you have no idea what I'm talking about."

You grumble in pain, but don't interrupt.

"As I was saying, I know all about your magical bonding, dear." She says. "It took some time, but I managed to figure it all out. And that's exactly why I kept you away from Wanda this year."

"Why?"

"Because I want Wanda's magic for myself, of course."

You let out an exclamation of surprise and anger, but before you could say anything else, your body tensed all at once, and you felt your heart soar as if it were racing.

"W-what's happening?" You muttered in confusion, feeling the adrenaline wake up your senses. Agatha looked at you intently, moving away from the pillar to look at you more closely. She touched the side of your faces, assessing you.

"You can feel the danger she is in can't you?" She asked with fascination in her voice and gaze. You gasped, feeling the room getting smaller. "It is absolutely magnificent to witness such power."

"What did you do?" you ask with difficulty. "Where is Wanda?"

Agatha laughs as she walks away. She moves around the room again and you think she is going to go back to her original position, but she makes a motion with her hands and floats in the air. She sits down with her legs crossed and stands at the same height as you.

"Sorry, Miss Stark." She says with her palms up and lying in the air. "We've reached the part where it's going to become very painful."

The candles around you float at head height, and the flames light up, but they are blue. You also notice the runes glowing on the walls.

"Please." You plead but Agatha doesn't answer you, all she says are words in a language you don't recognize.

When she falls silent, you wait for the pain to come, but all is quiet.

"It's done." She announces with a sigh.

"What's done?"

"Now she can become a scarlet witch for good."

"Professor what..."

But your voice dies in your throat as you feel a sharp pang in your chest and gasp breathlessly. A whistle hissing in your ear, and a sharp pain takes over your entire body in the next second.

You don't need much to deduce that Wanda is suffering.

"Stop it!" You beg as you hug your own body, feeling your skin burn. "Please stop hurting her!"

"Focus, Stark." You hear Agatha's voice in your head. It's hard to push through the pain to pay attention.

"Let me go!" You plead but you have the impression that it is only in your thoughts. You know that your body is screaming in pain. "Let me save her! Wanda!"

"Pay attention, girl!" It's Agatha again. "You never needed to be with her to protect her. Concentrate. Don't let her get hurt."

Agatha's sentence echoes in your head for many minutes, until her voice replaces the pain.

You open your eyes, but cannot see the room. There is a golden light all around you, and it takes a moment to realize that it is your hands and eyes that are glowing.

"What?" you gasp in confusion but your body is shaking again and you can taste blood in your mouth.

"Not yet, honey." Agatha says and you realize she is still in the room. You blink, trying to see her, but all you can see is the light. You can barely feel the chains, but they are still on your wrists. "Just a little longer. He needs to use the curse."

"Professor, what's going on?" You try but there is no answer. The pain returns and your body hangs forward, but you rest your hands on the floor, panting. "Please help me."

"Help yourself." Says the woman. "What will make the pain stop?"

"Wanda." The answer escapes in a sigh and you can barely keep your eyes open.

"Then go to her."

And then your vision dims.

You think you are falling into a portal key, because it feels the same. But you land before reaching the ground.

Everything is muffled, and you look around to see spell lights.

You see your friends dueling wizards you don't recognize, in a place you know as the Ministry of Magic.

You know because it is like your childhood memories, on the rare occasions when you were with Tony and your father in search of some package.

But it's empty now, except for the wizards fighting.

Your friends are losing, you know by the way the masked men are surrounding everyone in the corner.

But you're not looking for that.

Your attention is on the girl in the center, the bright red light surrounding her hands.

Your body immediately relaxes at the sight of her, and you walk on.

Wanda is also struggling. Her energy escapes from her hand towards the black-clad sorcerer, who has a devilish grin on his face, but who seems pleased to see so much power.

You lift your hand to touch her face, and then the sound returns.

The effect of your touch on Wanda's skin is immediate.

Her magic explodes in her hands, creating a force field that pushes Mephisto and the walkers meters away.

The leader lets out a laugh as he falls backwards, while his followers stare at the scene with confusion, surprised by the sudden blow.

Wanda falls to her knees, and you stoop down to the level of her face, raising your hands to your face.

"Wanda? Can you hear me?" You call out, but it is as you thought, she cannot. Neither she can see you. But something makes you believe she can feel you. You sigh watching her try to pull herself together.

Mephisto stands up and waves for his followers to stand still.

Wanda stands in front of her friends. You swallow dryly, and stand beside her.

"Your protector is here, isn't he?" The man questions with a murderous look on his face. "I can feel it."

"Where is she?" Wanda asks angrily, but the wizard continues to smile.

"Do you really think I would risk exposure to steal your girlfriend from the castle, Miss Maximoff?" The wizard retorts. "You are as foolish as your father."

Wanda raises her hands again. You feel your body tingle.

"I won't ask again." She says and Mephisto's gaze flashes with irritation.

"It is I who will not repeat myself, miss." He strikes back and points his wand toward Wanda in a quick motion. You see the green light approaching in slow motion, and your feet are already moving forward.

The Death Curse hits you in the chest, but all you feel is the tingling in the back of your head, and all they see, is a golden light.

"This is getting embarrassing for you." Wanda teases the wizard, and you want to smile, but you are feeling your connection grow weak, the atmosphere begins to glaze over.

"I've had enough of games." Mephisto speaks impatiently, and moves his wand toward the fountain in the center in the hallway. Water pours out of the marble and rises to the ceiling, forming a three-headed serpent. "I'll just drown your friends and eliminate a few names from the list of blood traitors."

"No!" Wanda says as she throws an energy ball at the sorcerer, but he deflects it with ease. The water Hydra moves and Wanda attacks again.

You think the water will reach your friends, but the ministry's Floo powder fireplaces are lighting up and the order's wizards are coming out of there.

Mephisto's smile fades. His followers begin to duel, and he forms a shield to stop Wanda's attacks while turning to look at the incoming aurors, as you watch Hydra's enchantment being controlled and undone.

It is satisfying to see Mephisto choke in surprise as the rest of the Ministry officials begin to Apparate and use the floo powder net to arrive on the scene.

You see the expression of pure shock when the Minister of Magic sees the sorcerer, before Mephisto apparates and disappears.

There is an immediate commotion afterwards, the aurors of the order preventing the walkers from fleeing and the rest of the officials looking on at the scene of the fight with confusion.

The atmosphere is getting stuffy again, so you turn to Wanda again, and she has tears in her eyes as she looks around.

Erik reaches her within the next minute.

"Darling!" He says hugging her with concern, but Wanda sobs and he pulls away looking into her eyes. "What happened?"

"I couldn't find her, papa." She cries. "I looked everywhere."

Erik shakes his head.

"Wanda, Miss Stark is safe." He assures you and you frown. "It was a false vision dear, she was never here."

Wanda gasps in confusion, you want to touch her but can barely keep yourself watching.

"But i saw..."

"I know dear, but it wasn't true." Erik interrupts, "Let's go back to the castle, I'll tell you everything. But breathe, okay, she's safe."

Wanda nods, and you feel her exhaustion invade your body immediately. The aurors of the order help your friends, and you watch Erik help Wanda walk to the fireplaces, and the realization that she is safe is enough for you to surrender to the darkness.

//-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-//

You know something is different the moment you open your eyes.

Maybe the way all the sounds invade your ears at once, and you grumble, trying to figure out if you have a headache or just reject the sudden gain in consciousness.

There is no pain, though, you notice.

There is only softness and lightness.

You blink a few times, and understand that you are lying on a bed. Straightening up, you eventually identify the room. It is an infirmary, but it is not Hogwarts. You frown in confusion, and straighten to sit up.

It looks like a hospital room, and there are other beds a few meters away, but they are empty. You also notice the "get well soon" balloons and the gift wrappings and food baskets on top of the cabinet at the end of the bed.

When you notice the sleeping figure in the armchair next to you, you gasp in surprise.

"Wanda!" You call out with a mixture of shock and relief.

The girl opens her eyes sleepily and then widens them when she realizes that you are looking at her curiously, babbling about what had happened and if she was okay. All Wanda does is let out a tearful laugh and jump at you, her arms around your neck as she hugs you tightly.

"Hey, is everything okay?" You ask fearfully, letting your arms encircle her waist and pulling her into bed with you. Wanda buries her face in your neck, and you want to close your eyes to enjoy the feeling of having her so close, but you are too curious to know about everything. "Wanda?"

"Fuck I was so worried." She sighs against your skin before pulling away, and you frown, looking into her watery eyes. You reach out to caress her face and she smiles as she leans into your touch, one hand rising to yours on her cheek.

"What happened?" You ask and she shakes her head slightly.

"A lot." She says. "But everyone is fine. You...merlin...you're here."

Wanda rests her forehead against yours and you both close your eyes.

"Where else would I be?"

She doesn't answer, just presses your lips together in a sweet but firm kiss. You feel your whole body shiver all at once, and gasp in surprise.

Wanda pulls away with a sigh and hugs you again, and you decide to give yourself over to the feeling, inhaling her perfume as you bury your face in her hair and feel your whole body relax all at once.

"Finally!" Your brother's voice startles you slightly, but you don't have much time to absorb his sudden presence in the room, because soon all your friends are entering as well, and Wanda is breaking the embrace so that your brothers will hug you and then your friends.

As soon as you hug everyone, and receive pats on the shoulder and questions about how you are feeling from the adults, you intertwine your hand with Wanda, who remains sitting next to you on the bed. The feeling brings you an instant sense of safety.

"Can someone tell me how I got here now?" You ask just as Carol Danvers turns away from you and stands next to Erik and Fury, who are in the corner next to Mantis and Harley, all squeezed around your bed.

"What's the last thing you remember, YN?" It is Tony who asks and you frown.

"The room with Professor Harkness, I think." You say feeling your stomach turn. Wanda's touch tightens a little, and you appreciate the sensation. Many flashes pass through your mind at once, and you use your free hand to massage your forehead lightly. "I think I remember a spell... Professor!" You exclaim suddenly looking at Erik, remembering the schoolmistress's words. "Agatha, she was the one who planned everything... the ministry, the prophecy! She knew everything and...!"

"Calm down, miss Stark." The professor interrupts with a nod. "We already know about what happened in the dungeon."

"Oh, okay." You mumble clumsily. "H-how did I get out of there?"

Erik exchanges a look with Wanda before turning back to you.

"Your last memory, Miss Stark, what would it be? Do you only remember talking to Agatha?"

"If you call torture talking." You mumble clumsily, and Wanda squeezes your hand hard, making you bite your tongue. "Hey." You say to her, but she doesn't let go of the grip. She says nothing, and you sigh. "Yes, professor. I just remember being within the spell. And then I woke up here."

Erik clears his throat and you think this is the time he's going to ask everyone to leave, but he hasn't.

"Well, then we have to update you on some important things, miss." He says as he puts his hands in his pockets. "I believe Doctor McCoy would prefer to talk to you first however, and he is looking at this small crowd with a certain disapproval."

You frown at the phrase, but there is a man dressed in aqua green approaching the bed and beckoning your friends to stand back. It's the healer in charge, you read the little plaque with the name "Doctor Hank McCoy" on the coat as he asks everyone not to be so on top of you.

"Good morning, Miss Stark, it's very good to see you awake at last. How are you feeling?" He asks as you approach, you squeeze Wanda's hand as soon as she makes mention of getting up. She gets a slight flush on her cheeks, but ignores the doctor's gaze and continues sitting next to you. Hank realizing that the witch won't move away, decides to approach you from the other side of the bed, a metal stethoscope in position on his neck and hands.

"I'm fine." You say with a smile.

"Let's make sure you are." He says as he places the object against your chest. "Take a deep breath, please."

The check is quick, and a little awkward as everyone is looking at you. Doctor Hank grabs a wooden clipboard as soon as he's finished.

"You've recovered almost completely, that's impressive." He comments sounding pleased and you look at him curiously.

"Was I sick?"

Hank gives a little laugh and then frowns, realizing that you really were curious. He clears his throat.

"Are you experiencing memory loss?" He asks looking at you intently. You swallow dryly, pulling away slightly as you feel the blue orbs analyzing you so intently. "It's a common symptom for this type of magical occurrence, of course, though it's a more recurring one in patients who have experienced the cruciatus curse."

"Doctor?"

Hank straightens his body again, putting his hands in his pockets.

"What is your last memory of the ritual, miss?"

"Ritual?" You ask confused.

"The bonding ritual, Miss Stark." He clarifies. "Your family members explained to the team that you were in the custody of a dark witch and went through a level five rated magical binding ritual against your will."

"I..."

"Doctor McCoy, please." Erik interrupts with an embarrassed smile. "We haven't had a chance to talk to her about everything. Perhaps some less technical language."

"Oh, yes, of course." Hank agreed with a smile, and his posture became much friendlier. "What exactly do you remember, Miss?"

"Only to be caught in a spell doctor." You reply. "My professor, she used some runes on the walls and tried to keep me trapped. It was... quite unpleasant if you ask me." You recount feeling really uncomfortable. "I didn't really understand what happened."

"Don't worry, we know what happened." Hank says. "From a medical point of view at least." He jokes and Erik smiles, but you are too nervous to do so. "Sorry, but the room is too crowded. Why don't you all wait outside while I talk to Miss Stark?"

Your friends let out a disgruntled exclamation together, but Carol and Fury are already pushing everyone out.

"She can stay, right?" you ask quickly and Doctor Hank gives a chuckle.

"I wouldn't try to keep you and Miss Maximoff apart anymore in any manner at all." He comments and you look at him with confusion.

Erik also stays in the room, standing at the end of the bed. Wanda strokes your hand with her thumb as the doctor speaks again, and you want to pay attention to his words rather than her touch, but it is a difficult task.

Hank sits on the edge at the height of your knee.

"You have undergone a magical bonding ritual, Miss Stark." He begins. "More precisely, through a kind of spell to strengthen a magical bond that already exists in you. In this case, your bond with Miss Maximoff."

The doctor adjusts his glasses slightly as soon as you nod in understanding.

"That kind of spell is very dangerous by itself, Miss." He says. "But it is even more so when done without the consent of those involved."

Hank gropes his pockets and then takes out his own wand, extending it into the air with a smooth motion. You watch intently as two golden figures resembling two people appear in front of you.

He also draws a thread connecting them at chest height.

"What we know about natural protective magical bonds, Miss, is that they act as a string of energy between the bodies of the witches who are connected." He narrates as he signals the golden magical wave with his finger. "That string stretches, and bends, and can only be broken in three ways. With the length of the magic contract, the withdrawal of the spell, or the death of one of the witches. And in this third, if the witch to whom the link refers, dies before the other, the other will suffer the same fate, since the link remains intact."

"Doctor, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I already knew that information." You comment clumsily, but the adults don't seem annoyed, they just giggle. You are surprised to realize that you know Wanda thought it was funny even without looking at her.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I'm getting there." He hits back with a chuckle. Hank makes another motion with his wand, and this time, an energy rune appears between the figures in the center of the link, and you frown as you recognize the image.

"It looks like the one Professor Harkness drew on the floor." You comment.

"It's exactly the same." Hank says. "This is rune needed for the power release spell. Ancient magic, very powerful." He counters. "It was common for witches to use this kind of spell in the wild, before magic societies were fully formed, since no one learned how to grow their own power through study and practice. Other methods were used before the schools of magic existed."

"What did she do to me, doctor?" You ask fearfully, understanding where the conversation was going. Doctor Hank exchanged a look with Professor Erik.

"Well, Mrs. Harkness wanted to rush things, I believe." He says. "You see, magical connections are very unstable magics, Miss. Especially if done between living things." He adds and moves his wand again. The rune multiplies and lands on the chest of each of the figures. "The ritual that Agatha performed served to stimulate the full magical potency of your connection all at once."

"But what does that mean?"

"It means that after that night, she merged your magic and Miss Maximoff's magic as one." Hank clarified and you frowned, trying to understand exactly what that signified. Seeing your expression, Professor Erik cleared his throat and approached the side of the bed, close to Wanda.

"What will happen now, Miss Stark, will be the peak of a magical bond." He says with a worried look, and you look at him curiously. "You two will both present new powers, and you will need to learn how to control all of them."

You ran your fingers lightly through your hair, sighing.

"You still haven't told me how I ended up here." You grumbled slightly impatiently. The teacher hesitated, but then told you.

"Agatha underestimated the power of your bond with Wanda." He said and you were about to question what that meant when he spoke again. "The ritual served to potentiate the Scarlet Witch's magic, using your body as a bridge for contact, since through the connection between you, she was able to force Wanda's magic to evolve."

You looked at Wanda, but she was looking at your hands entwined together.

"Is everything okay with you?" You asked her immediately, and she raised her eyes to you. Nodding in agreement, she gave you a shy smile. You wished you were alone with her.

"Agatha wanted to use the bond just to stimulate Wanda's magic to its full potential, and she knew she could use your magical bond to do that." The professor then added. "But, I don't know if you remember, Miss Stark, as we talked about earlier in the year, there are limits to what the human body can handle. Just like you, Wanda didn't even come of age yet. Her magic simply wasn't ready."

"And that's when the magical bond between you two interrupted the spell." The doctor added and you widened your eyes slightly. He waved his wand so that the illusion of the figures shattered. "You see, Miss, you have a protective bond with Miss Maximoff. The minute the spell became strong enough to injure her, your magic merged with hers, and all was restrained. The ritual was immediately interrupted."

"You may not remember, but Agatha took you to the ministry." Erik said next and grimaced slightly. "Well, not exactly brought, but projected you. She was the one who set up the visions in Wanda's head so that she would see you wounded and fight Mephisto again. All the danger she was going through triggered the bond. And then she could project your consciousness to Wanda, giving her the power to face Mephisto in a duel."

"I don't remember that." You mutter, scratching the back of your neck lightly.

"Don't worry." Hank adds. "It was a very intensive magical exhaustion, I'm sure your memories will gradually come back. If not, Miss Maximoff can help you." He jokes and you frown in confusion, but the doctor is already getting up. "Well, I need to check on other patients, I'll come visit you later. Try to eat something before I get back, okay? You should still be here for a few days, until we're sure you're fully recovered."

You thanked the doctor before he left. Erik cleared his throat.

"Do you have any other questions?"

"Many sir." You say making him laugh lightly. But then you sigh. "But I wanted to stay with Wanda for a while."

Erik nods in understanding, and exchanges a look with his daughter before turning to leave.

You straighten to lie down and look at Wanda and she mimics your movement, but looks up at the ceiling.

"Wanda?" You call out and wait for her to turn her face toward you. A sense of lightness and assurance immediately invades your chest at having the green orbs stare at you. "How do you feel?"

She gives you a short smile, and straightens up to turn her whole body toward you. It's uncomfortable to hold your hands like this, so she lets go, but raises her fingers to your face, tracing your features.

"I feel different." She confesses. Every touch of her fingers is warm and comforting. "What about you?"

"Different too." You reply, resisting the urge to close your eyes. "But a good different."

Wanda smiles, shaking her head in agreement. You are silent for a moment, Wanda using her thumb to caress your cheek tenderly, and you let your gaze on her mouth.

"Why were you almost crying when I woke up?" You ask next, and her body tenses before she sighs. You look into her eyes, waiting.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you." She mumbles and you shake your head, bringing your faces closer together. Wanda sighs and brings her hand to the back of your neck as you press your foreheads together. "I can't talk about it."

"Show me then." You ask and she closes her eyes just before you close yours.

The visions hit you in the next second.

You see the false memories Agatha implanted in her, they were images of you being tortured in the ministry, your screams echoing among the corridors. You feel Wanda's desperation, her helplessness, the way her heart squeezed and the despair at every door she opened in the ministry and could not find you.

You gasp when you see the duel with Mephisto again, feeling your own touch in Wanda's magic, the way she had never felt so powerful, every cell vibrating.

A surprised sigh escapes when you see Wanda being carried back to the castle, as she feels her whole body tired but cannot close her eyes without hearing from you. You feel her tears when Professor Erik lets her see the state of the dungeon where Agatha imprisoned you, and the yearning when she sees your blood on the chains and on the floor.

The anger when her father tries to send her to sleep, and she insists on going to the hospital with your family, and the way her body shakes when she sees you on a stretcher unconscious.

Your own image scares you. The deep wounds on your wrists and ankles, made by the iron chains you have broken. The rune cut on your forehead, bright and red, and the blood that dripped down your nose, ears and mouth.

You feel the way Pietro's tight embrace, or his words of affirmation, assuring her that the healers will heal you, helps Wanda relax, but you also see how it's not enough. How all Wanda needs is for you to be at her side.

The feeling of fear and insecurity that lingers in Wanda's chest during the days she lies beside you in bed, waiting for you to wake up. Unsuccessful in sensing your thoughts even when she tries to sneak up on you during the nurses' shift change.

And then the sense of relief when seeing you open your eyes.

You gasp out the memories, feeling yours and Wanda's tears too.

"Oh, my love, I'm so sorry." You ask in a hoarse voice. "I should have woken up sooner."

Wanda lets out a tearful laugh, shaking her head.

"It's okay." She assures. "I'm just glad you did."

You smile, bringing your fingers together to take a strand of hair from Wanda's eyes and place it behind her ears.

"I will always be by your side, Wanda." You say. "I promise."

Wanda sighs, opening her eyes again. You use your thumb to wipe away the tears that have trickled down her face.

There is a moment of silence, and then your heart soars at her words.

"I know about the prophecy."

You look away before looking at her again.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I should have told you."

"Yes, you should have." She retorts seriously, but she doesn't sound angry. "But it's over now. And now everyone knows."

You widen your eyes, and probably sensing the way you've grown anxious, Wanda firms the touch of her hand on the side on your neck, murmuring lightly.

"Don't worry, eventually everyone would find out." She says and you swallow dryly.

"H-how did they know?"

"That's why Mephisto was in the Ministry." She explains. "He was looking for the prophecy in the mystery department. Steve found it first."

You swallowed dryly and Wanda continued to tell.

"I think he hesitated to tell Tony for a moment." She says. "But then he did. And then everyone knew. My father told the order as soon as you were admitted."

"How did Tony take it?" you asked fearfully and Wanda sighed.

"Better than I did if you ask me." She grumbled and you smiled shyly. "He only calmed down when they poured some potion for him. And well, I broke Dad's nose so it didn't really go down too well."

"Wow, you did what?" you ask in surprise, and Wanda grumbles, tucking her head into her pillow. You giggle, digging into her hair with your fingers. "I want to see that one."

Wanda chuckles against the cotton before looking back at you. She shows you the memory next. Everyone around the St.Mungus waiting room when Steve arrives accompanied by Erik and he tells everyone the truth. You see Tony squirming and being calmed down by two nurses, and you can feel Wanda's irritation and indignation as she looks at the "I was doing the right thing" expression her father has on his face. And how the feeling explodes in her chest when he comes to say he was trying to keep her safe and she just punches him in the face.

You gasp out of the memory with an impressed laugh, moving from the image of Erik with a bloody nose to Wanda with flushed cheeks, impacted by the way your laughter makes her heart soar.

"I can't believe you punched your father in the face." You tease with amusement and Wanda laughs lightly, reaching out to rest her arm on your waist. Her hand caresses your back gently.

"If he hadn't kept us apart none of this would have happened." She mumbles bitterly and you sigh.

"He thought he was helping." You retort but Wanda just hums. You let out an exclamation next as you remember something. "Wanda, you didn't tell me you were having nightmares! Are they still happening?"

Wanda sighs, denying with her head.

"No, not since the ministry." She says. "Papa hasn't figured out what they are, and now we can't count on Professor Harkness to help us find out. But since I fought Mephisto at the ministry, they've stopped."

"Why didn't you tell me about them?"

"Because they were about you." She retorts as if it's obvious. "I didn't want to worry you anymore. Not when all I do is cause you problems."

The confession catches you completely off guard. And Wanda's guilty tone breaks your heart. She is looking down at the sheet and you let out an incredulous laugh.

"That's so very far from the truth, my dear." You say as you catch her chin between your fingers, and make her look at you gently. "You have no idea how good you do me, do you Wanda?"

"I..."

"It' s okay, now I can show you." You interrupt with a shy smile, bringing your lips together in a gentle kiss.

Everything feels more intense now. It's a simple touch, but it warms your whole body. You leave your fingers at the nape of her neck as you slide your tongue against hers, and you both sigh with the touch.

It feels so good to kiss Wanda, it warms your whole body from head to toe, but remembering that you are in a hospital bed, just as a familiar warmth begins to form at the tip of your stomach when Wanda's hand squeezes the fabric of your shirt and her tongue moves against yours slowly, you sigh as you break the kiss.

You smile at the image of Wanda's swollen lips and ajar, dark eyes.

"Why did you stop?" she asks breathlessly, her voice husky. You raise your eyebrows in amusement.

"Baby, our families and friends are in the next room." You clarify and Wanda mumbles, coming closer to rest her forehead on yours. Her hand squeezed the fabric before adorning your t-shirt, her fingers on your skin making you shiver slightly. "Behave."

Wanda giggles mischievously, pecking your lips before moving away. You feel your body relax completely as you gaze into her emerald eyes, but the moment is broken when your friends are back in the room.

Ignoring the hissing and the giggles, you tuck yourself into bed so that Wanda can snuggle up next to you.

Things are going to be different now, you know. But something tells you that as long as you have Wanda's hand in yours, you'll be fine.

//-//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-//-//

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagines #avengers imagines #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x yn #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fic #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy #wanda x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #harry potter au

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 3 years

Text

It’s Your Fucking Birthday!

One-Shot.

Daddy misses you. He wants that pretty pussy after you teased him on Zoom and FaceTime 😛💦 you coming to give him some of that pussy? 😏

You blew into the gold party horn in the webcam of your zoom call with your boyfriend, Erik, who is away for business in NYC. Erik covered his ears with a big, dimpled smile on his face. It was 12 AM where he was and 9 PM where you were. To get as close to your boyfriend as possible, you changed the background of your zoom call into a picture collage that you created. It’s all of your favorite pictures of Erik with a cute chocolate chip cookie frame. On your head is a gold party hat and you are wearing one of his favorite black hoodies.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY!!! I love youuuuuuuu.”

You make a heart shape with your hand before blowing him a few kisses.

“Thank you, beautiful, I love you too. This really means a lot right now. You called me at a good time too because I just got finished looking over this info for work. You are so fucking adorable look at that smile. And the background?! Damn, baby!!”

“Yessss I had to do it up for my baby!!”

“This is the best happy birthday I received so far. It really sucks that I’m all the way here in NYC when I could be there with you.”

Erik’s kimono beads started vibrating and the patterns along the beads ignited an electric blue color.

“It’s my auntie calling, baby girl. Let me take this.”

“Take your time, I have to go do something real quick. I'll be back.”

“Don’t be gone too long now!” Erik yelled into the zoom call before a holographic image of his Aunt Ramonda popped up.

“Happy Birthday my handsome nephew!”

“Thanks, auntie. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Daka. How is it in New York.”

“Cold. T’Challa should be here later on today.”

“Are you going to rest and put off work for later? I hope so. This is your special day today.”

“Birthdays are just like any other day except I’m older.”

“Still, I want you to enjoy yourself. I’ll let you go, love you.”

“Love you too, auntie.”

When you came back Erik could hear you moving in the background but he couldn’t see you. You turned your camera off.

“Babe? Why is your camera off?” He asked.

“One second!!”

“What are you up to now woman?!!”

Erik stands from the couch in his hotel suite. He picks up his Macbook and the care package you sent him, taking it all with him into his room. Sitting everything on the bed, Erik takes off his hoodie, bare chest exposed now. His body is really filling out with all the training he’s been doing. It felt good for him to get back in the gym.

“Baby...come on now, I’m tryna see that beautiful face.” Erik said while staring at a black screen.

“I told you I have another surprise for you.”

Erik smirks before taking a seat on his bed. He has to angle his laptop up so she can see him better. He ruffles his locs as he waits patiently for you to appear again.

“Baby—oh, damn.”

You went all out for Erik. You’re wearing a piece from the new Savage Fenty collection. It’s a yellow amber, long-sleeve lace slip featuring a sexy keyhole cut out in the front. It came with a matching thong. It’s very revealing so Erik can see your breasts. You pose for him and twirl around with your ass poked out. He had this mesmerized look in his eyes with a smirk that showed a single deep dimple.

“Mmm, spin around again...oh my God, baby.”

“You love it? I know how much you love yellow on my skin.”

“I love it and I want to undress you with my hands not my eyes,” He looked you up and down with those beautiful brown eyes of his, “bend that ass over really quick—fuck.”

You giggle at his words of appreciation for your body. He always hyped you up but each time felt like the first. You are his baby after all.

“Somebody getting thick on me hold the fuck up,” Erik laughs, “I don’t remember that ass sitting up and poking out like that! How did you get that ass like that, baby? Tell me.”

“You already know why, Erik, stop,” you blush.

“Nah, I want you to tell me why. It’s my birthday after all.”

“Quarantine fifteen!!” You said.

“Nope. It’s the different positions, especially the back shots. Hitting that ass hard from the back got your cheeks looking like a big ass chocolate cake.”

“You really think that sex made me get thick? I have been getting back in the gym too.”

“I mean...all of that plays a factor,” Erik licked his lips, “But all we’ve been doing for the past year is fucking. Nothing but sex. So I don’t know why I’m just noticing this now. That ass is fat mama.”

“Mmm...I wish you could feel how soft it is too.” You said with a sultry voice.

“Shit, me too. Bend over again….mmm...so sexy. Starting my day off with a bang.”

“Open your package baby!”

You take a seat and watch Erik open his package that you sent him. When he finally got the box open, he smiled at you with a shake of his head.

“The apple juice, baby? Really? my favorite.”

Erik shows you the two Martinelli’s Apple juices.

“What else...ha, no you didn’t, let’s hope Boomer doesn't get to these.”

It's a pair of men’s Ugg slippers. Boomer, Erik’s dog, chewed up his last pair.

“Chocolate chip cookies!!! From Gooey On The Inside!!!” He instantly opened the pack up, “Baby. I was craving these cookies too. You’re a mind reader.”

“I contacted her personally and I had them added to your package. You have one last thing in there, babe.”

Erik pulls out a bottle of Hennessy.

“I figured we can turn up together on zoom and you know...do other things.”

“Other things? What’s that, baby?”

You stand up and take off your panties.

“Since I can’t be there to give you birthday sex in person...I figured we could do it together on zoom.”

The WIFI started acting up and your video froze.

“Shit—babe?”

“Yeah—can you see me clear now.”

You came back into focus.

“Yeah, I can see you,” Erik smiles.

You started having a giggle fit and Erik looked at you with a confused expression on his face.

“Wait...did you start drinking without me? How turnt up are you right now?”

“I just had a few sips that’s all!”

“Nah, that’s a fucking yes. You’re turnt I don’t wanna hear that.”

“Stop,” you whimper.

“Fuck, I miss you so much.” Erik said.

“Me too.”

You both stared at each other before you broke eye contact.

“I would have you in my lap right now like I always do...my hand between your legs...fingers in your pussy.”

“Mm,” you bite your lip, “I wish you could do that right now.”

Erik pulled on the crotch of his grey sweatpants. He could feel himself growing thick and the sound of your voice coming out of the speakers had him imagining you there whispering and moaning in his ear.

“What I wouldn’t give to fuck you right now.” He said.

“Have you been stroking your dick since you’ve been away from me?”

“Honestly...yes. I mean...you’re not here to take care of me so I gotta do it myself...have you been fingering your pussy since daddy isn’t there to do it?”

“Uh-huh...I wanna fuck you so good right now.”

“Woah,” Erik chuckles, “I know you would, baby. I’d fuck you good too.”

“Baby...I wanna make you cum right now,” You moan.

“You gotta show me that pussy first.”

You slowly lay back against the bed, spreading your thighs. Erik stares between your legs at your pussy barely covered in that yellow amber thong, your pussy lips begging to be free. Daddy’s favorite honey pot. It’s been days since he had that pussy in his mouth and resting on his tongue.

“What I wouldn’t give to rip that thong with my teeth and put my face in your pussy.”

“It’s crazy wet for you.”

“Let me see,” He whispered.

You tease him and show him just a little.

“Nah, I wanna see that whole pussy. You’re not being very fair for my birthday, mama.”

Closing your thighs. You take your time and perform a little strip tease for him. You bring your legs up, your panties following the same trail before you kick them off. Your hand covers your pussy before you use your fingers to spread your lips for him to see.

“Oh, my God—

“I told you I was wet.”

“Stick a finger inside I wanna hear it.”

Erik turns up his volume. You stick your middle finger inside and start wiggling it back and forth. Erik grabs his erection through his sweatpants and squeezes it. He was pulsating.

“Fuck. It’s so creamy, baby. I wish I had that sweet pussy instead of these cookies.”

“Daddy...why aren’t you touching yourself?”

“Ha, I’m sorry, baby…I got you...”

Erik lifts his hips from the bed and pushes his sweatpants down to his ankles. He wasn’t wearing any briefs. If he could be naked all day he would. He exhaled and threw his head back as soon as his hand wrapped around his thickness.

“I haven’t sucked that dick in so long...I forgot how it feels to stretch my mouth around that fat dick.”

“Would you be able to handle the way I fuck your mouth?” Erik asked.

“I’m so hungry for your dick I’ll let you use my throat however you like.”

Erok looked at his dick, “My shit is hard as fuck.”

“I wish I could sit on it, mmm, it’s just missing my pussy for me to sit on.”

“Why are you so far away?”

Erik couldn’t take it. Both of you breathed heavily in the camera, caressing your own bodies, watching each other.

“I want you to rub your clit.”

Your fingers started circling over your clit. With your other hand you pull your breasts out of your lace teddy for him to see.

“You gotta get closer to the camera so I can see your pussy better...that’s it...no spread your legs down more...goddamn, ma. If I could lick this screen and taste that pussy I would.”

His dick was massive in the camera. He had to push it back to get the entire shaft in view. His dick was standing straight up and you wished you were there to really give him the best birthday treat ever. Your mouth and pussy.

“You wouldn’t even have to do anything, daddy, I’ll ride that dick for your birthday.”

“Nah...you know I can’t let you have all the fun. They have the best view with big windows. I was beating my dick last night to the thought of you pressed against the window…me fucking you from behind...pulling your hair.”

“I want you to do that to me so bad,” You moaned, “Let me get my vibrator, I’ll be right back.”

Still stroking his dick, Erik watches as you walk out of frame. He smacked his dick against his open palm before dragging his thumb over his wet tip. You finally came back with a vibrator Erik hadn’t seen before. It’s a clitoral pump vibrator with a fake tongue attachment and a g spot vibrator on the other end. It’s purple and pink with a suction attachment. Erik and yourself have used clitoral suckers plenty of times so you detach it from the vibrator so you can see how the oral sex stimulating tongue works.

“When did you get that?” He asked

“It came a few days ago...I waited until now to open it so I can use it while you watch.”

“Hmm, all for me?”

“Always,” you get back into position and turn on the vibrator. The tongue starts wiggling up and down slowly but when you went through more levels it started flicking so fast it created a blur.

“Dayummm, I can’t wait to see you put that thing on your clit. I already know you’re about to cum fast.”

You dragged the vibrator up your leg and then you gently pressed the vibrating tongue against your pussy. Instantly your toes curl and you start to tremble.

“FUCK!” You shout, hips twisting from side to side.

“You’re making my dick drool baby omg...mmm...mmm...mmm...looks so tasty...pretty pussycat baby...keep that vibrator on your clit don’t you fucking stop...how do you want it baby? You want me to fuck you with that vibrator on your clit?”

“Yes, daddy!”

Your hips lift from the bed. It was too much. As soon as you fell back against the bed your pussy started leaking. Thank god you put a towel down because your squirt came out like a fountain.

“I told you that pussy was gonna cum fast,” Erik groped his balls, “I’ll lick all that mess up off your thighs and then eat that beautiful pussy.”

“I can’t take it anymore—

“Nah, I want you to fuck that pussy with the other end.”

“Daddy—

“Nope. Do what the fuck I tell you. I may not be there in person but that doesn’t mean you do what you want. Fuck your pussy now.”

“Unh,” you turn around with your ass in the camera and push the vibrator inside of you.

“Oooo—

“Fuck that toy. Say my name and fuck that toy.”

You go to town on your pussy, thrusting it inside of you.

“That shit feels good, don’t it?”

“Yesssssss, it’s so so so GOOD!”

“That fine ass getting pounded when I see you.”

“Please, daddy, I wish you were here to fuck me.”

“Ughhh,” Erik went back to pumping his dick, “I’m a stroke you real good and hit that spot over and over again.”

“Unh—

“Work that fucking pussy baby, damn you’re making a mess all over that toy...cream is just dripping all over it...fuckkkkkk…I want your pussy so bad.”

“Baby—“

“You warming that pussy up for me? Are you practicing for when I get home? You know what I would do? I would get in that ass while you fuck your pussy.”

“I’m gonna cum—oh my god, daddy—I’m gonna—

Your entire body trembled and that ass started bouncing and moving like a tidal wave.

“That big ass girl—SHIT!”

Erik’s cum landed on his laptop screen. His balls must have been fully loaded because the more he jerked himself, the more cum spurted out. He let go of his dick and small droplets of cum stained his sheets. He didn’t know if he had another nut in him.

“Babe, I’ll be right back. I gotta clean off this screen.”

Erik stood up with his dick swinging between his legs. He walked over to his hotel dresser and grabbed some tissue. When he came back you were on your back with your legs stretched open.

“That’s so purrrrrdy,” He said before laughing.

“Thank you. Wanna go for round two?”

“One second, babe. I am drained.”

“Oh? That 34 year old body can’t hang anymore, huh?”

“Jokes.”

“It’s okay...we have all day.”

“Yes, we do.”

Erik throws away the dirty tissue.

“I miss you.”

Erik gives you an air kiss, “I miss you too, baby.”

“Grab some water and we can—

The video ended.

“Seriously?” Erik tried calling back on zoom but it kept on ringing, “What the fuck not right now.”

Erik could hear his phone ringing. He funded it on the bed and it’s you face timing him. As soon as he answered it your pussy was in his face.

“Damn girl,” Erik flicked his tongue at his phone, “that peach fuzz is sexy too keep it just like that when I get there...all that beautiful pussy gotdayummmmm.”

“Let’s finish what we started?” Your face came into view and you winked at him.

“Shit, my dick is still hard, I'm ready.”

You slide three fingers inside your pussy with your phone angled as if Erik is laying down looking up at you.

“You did that on purpose...that’s how you want me? On my back and you sit on my face? Let that cum drip in my mouth?”

“Mhm, I wanna cum all in your mouth, daddy.”

Erik stood up from his bed while his phone rested on the bed. All you could see was his balls hanging in your face and his long, fat dick swinging.

“I’m not pulling out that pussy when I see you.”

You were driving him crazy and he was getting pissed off that you weren’t by his side right now taking his dick. Instead, he has to settle for a video call. It’s nothing like having pussy up close and in your face. Nothing like tasting, touching, and fucking the real thing. He wanted to pack his shit and catch a late flight out of NYC just so he can bury himself inside of you. He would drop his bags off at the door, grab your hips, bend you over, get down on his knees, and suck on your pussy from the back. Then, he would bend you over the couch and long stroke your pussy from behind with a handful of titties.

“Fuck,” Erik’s hand went faster on his dick, his balls feeling the impact of his hand as he stroked downward, “Ima bust all in your pussy when I see you...wash my face with that pretty pussy baby...that’s all I want for my birthday...fucking you...all night long...FUCKKKK.”

Erik jerked his dick right on his phone screen and all that cum landed on your pussy.

“Daddy!”

You rub your clit back and forth, that pussy contracting. You fell back against the bed and lifted your fingers from your pussy.

“Fuck, that was so good,” You suck your fingers.

Erik grabs his phone and walks to the bathroom. Flicking the light switch, Erik turned on the sink and grabbed a folded washcloth to clean off his phone screen.

“You had me cumming on my laptop, and you had me cumming on my phone.”

“But did you enjoy it?”

“Of course. I need a rewind option that shit was everything.”

Erik propped his phone up against the wall and started looking at himself in the mirror. He shook his head, his tapered locs falling against his forehead.

“You look so good. I can’t wait to see you.” You said with your eyes traveling over the length of his body.

“Soon, baby...real soon…”

____________

Taking his aunties advice, Erik pushed back a meeting for the opening of an Outreach Center in Manhattan for the next day. Erik woke up to multiple texts and missed calls from friends and family wishing him happy birthday. Even on social media he was tagged in plenty of pictures and videos. Of course, you made a long post about him with all the embarrassing photos of him caught off guard or sleeping. The last picture was his favorite. It’s a picture of you and him on vacation in Hawaii on a yacht. You both shared a kiss showing lots of tongue.

Danielle_93: Happy birthday Erik! 🎉

BrysonWilliams: Happy Birthday Bro! 💪🏾

Monibaby: Awww y’all are so cute!!! ❤️

There were many more comments and mentions. Erik shared a few posts to his IG story and left it at that for the time being. T’Challa sent him a text letting him know that he landed and he would see him later. Erik was on his way back from the hotel gym when he noticed food, and a few gift bags outside of his door. He figured it was from some friends that live in NYC. Erik opened his hotel room door and picked up all his gifts, carrying them inside. He placed them on the coffee table in the living room area and peeked inside the food bag. Birria tacos and a burrito. He was hungry too. Grabbing the bag, Erik walks through the dark hotel room towards the kitchen. A faint glow came from the kitchen and Erik paused his footsteps. Confused, Erik crept up and peeked his head inside.

There, on the kitchen counter is a triple chocolate layer cake with a 3 and a 4 candle on top. Maybe room service brought it in for him. Erik placed the bag of Mexican food on the counter and sauntered towards the cake. He could see cursive letters in yellow frosting on top. Erik read the words and a smile slowly crept up his face. This day just keeps getting better and better.

Happy Birthday Baby. Love, Y/N.

“It’s your favorite.”

Erik looked over his shoulder and there you were, wearing the Facet lingerie he gifted you. It’s see-through mesh in brown, with a plunging neckline and a high crotch. The gleam of the candles made your gorgeous brown skin stand out. Your hair is stilled in a natural fro and you’re wearing that brown matte lipstick Erik loves.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press the front of your body against his.

“This was your plan all along, huh?”

“It was hard to keep it from you. I flew in with T’Challa. He dropped me off here as soon as you left your room for the gym. I got a room key, let myself in, and waited for you to come back.”

“Mmm, baby,” Erik placed your hands in his and stepped back to get a good look at you, “You look so sexy.”

Erik held your hand up and spun you around so he could see every angle. As soon as your back faced him, Erik took his hand and popped you right on the cuff of your left ass cheek so he could watch it wobble.

“Soft and phat.” Erik whispered in your ear from behind.

“Do you like your cake? It’s your favorite.”

Erik brought his attention back to his cake, took his finger and scooped up some frosting. He sucked the frosting off of his finger and licked his lips.

“I love both of my cakes.”

You bend over the counter and start whining your hips. Erik focused on the way your beautiful ass swayed and how the yellow hue of the candle light made your moisturized cheeks shine.

“Stay just like that and bend over some more.”

“Yes Sir.” You press the front of your body against the counter top, “like this?”

“Just like that.”

Erik grabs his cake and sits it on the counter where you are.

“I’m gonna make a wish and blow out these candles.”

Erik closed his eyes. His lips are slightly parted and you can see his gold canines. Sweat still coated his skin from his workout. He’s wearing a pair of black and red ball shorts with a black beater. His locks are pushed back with a black Nike athletic sweatband. How could he make going to the gym look so stylish? Erik opened his eyes and gave you a small smile.

“What did you wish for?”

“It’s a secret,” He winked at you, “You’ve been walking around LA with that ass for these last few days haven’t you?”

Erik squinted his eyes at you playfully.

“I have, but you know it belongs to you,” You twerk your ass, “Now, you can have it all you want.”

“And I can eat it how I want too.”

Erik dragged his fingers in the chocolate frosting and smeared it on your ass. He sucked his fingers off in your face before disappearing behind you. He gets down on his knees with your ass in his face and wasting no time. He starts sucking and licking the frosting off of your right butt cheek while his sticky fingers spanked your left butt cheek.

“Unh, yes—yes, baby, that feels so good, I miss your mouth on me.”

“You know what I want next, bring your leg up.”

“Anything for you, daddy.”

As soon as your leg went up Erik’s fingers were hooked on the lace fabric of your lingerie and he pulled it to the side exposing your pussy. His tongue was already sweet but as soon as he poked it all the way out and licked from your pussy to your ass he got an even sweeter taste. Erik spanked you, twisting his head to suck your pussy. He was a wild man eating you. He gets so focused when he’s face deep in your pussy. Erik spread your pussy open, used the flat part of his tongue and pressed it firmly against your pussy and started moving it in a circle. Erik was disrespectfully eating your pussy and all you could do was moan and hold onto the counter. He ain’t had that pussy in his mouth for days. The way you were dripping on his tongue he couldn’t stop. This is the cake he’s trying to eat for his birthday. Smear his tongue and lips all over your pussy.

“Erik!!!”

You couldn’t control him. You couldn’t wait to see daddy again and he couldn’t wait to see you.

“Fuck, Erik!!!!”

He didn’t listen. You erupted in his mouth with loud moans.

“Daddy I can’t—I can’t—shit—I’m coming again!”

You dropped your leg and almost locked Erik’s head but he moved out of the way before you could. His beard and lips were soaked.

“Pussy is yummy. Come taste your pussy.”

“Mmm, I taste so sweet—daddy—“

You look down and see Erik’s shorts down and around his ankles. His dick was hanging out the bottom of his briefs. You grab him in your hand and use your thumb to rub his tip.

“You have a lot of dick.”

It’s long and ridiculously thick.

“That bulge...that dick...so hot.”

You swipe your tongue over his lips.

“My throat is ready for you, Sir.”

“Let’s take this shit to the bedroom, baby.”

Erik picks you up and your legs straddle him. He walks down the hallway with his lips on yours and his hands grasping each ass cheek. There, you can see the windows he was talking about. It’s almost nightfall. Erik puts you down and you drop to your knees before him, opened your mouth wide, and stuck your tongue out. Erik smacked the weight of his dick on your tongue. That nice, big, fat, long dick.

“I want some.”

“It’s right here for you...have as much you want—damn, aint waste no fucking time that’s what I’m talking about get that dick.”

You had Erik’s dick halfway down your throat with no hesitation. One hand gripping him and your mouth slurping and sucking him up and down. Erik used both of his hands to hold your head still so he can fuck your throat. You relaxed your jaws and looked up at him. Unblinking, he commanded you with his dark orbs.

“Oh, my god, baby, you feel so fucking good, baby….oooh, just like that baby, keep sucking this big ass dick...eat that dick, baby, suck this dick off...shit feels so fucking good.”

His words had you dripping.

“Suck that big dick baby—Unh, shit—spit on my dick—make a big ass mess,” Erik moaned, “You wanna make me cum? If you wanna make me cum you better suck this dick—daddy can’t hold it baby—I’m a shoot it down your throat, baby, you got my dick rock hard—suck it, baby—don’t fucking stop—oh, shit.”

With one heavy fist, Erik has a handful of your hair in a vice grip. His dick convulsed in your mouth and then after a few more sucks he was busting a nut down your throat. Your hands caressed his abs to calm his body down. You knew what effect your throat skills had on him.

“Come put that pussy in this dick, I’ve been thinking about you since last night, baby.”

You stood before Erik and he placed a hand around your throat and started kissing you.

“Take this off...I want you naked and riding my dick…”

As you completely take off your lingerie Erik is fully naked and now he’s laying back against his bed in the middle with his dick pointing towards the ceiling. You climb up to the bed and squat down on your feet, your hands on his chest to keep your balance as you descend your pussy on his dick.

“Damn, baby, that pussy...keep riding this dick…”

You start dropping your full weight down on Erik. It sounded like a splash park between your legs. Fuck going slow you ain’t have that dick in days. Erik’s hands were molded into your hips as you bounced up and down on him.

“This what you wanted? To sit on this dick?”

“Ah, shit, Unh! Fuck!”

“Answer me.”

“Yes!”

You reach behind to feel your cheeks. They were swaying and jiggling all over the place. Erik pushed your hand away and you gripped the sheets.

“You better keep fucking this dick or I’ll take over and fuck you.”

He only gave you one warning. Leaning over his body you start riding him again. His dick was hitting so deep in your pussy. You moved your hips in a circle on the tip of his dick and before you could even take all of him again Erik pushed you down himself.

“You’re tryna work me, Daddy?” You ask between deep breaths.

“I want that puss and you keep stopping.”

Erik lifted you off of him and stood up from the bed.

“Bend over in front of this window...yes...put your hands against the glass and spread your legs…”

Erik smacked his dick against your ass before resting it on your back. He reached beneath you to rub your clit.

“Think I’m playing?” Erik sucked his fingers, “Toot that ass up, Y/N...I said toot that ass up!!!” He barked out.

“Okay!!” You try your best, “Like that—FUCK!! Dadyyyyy. You’re in my pussy, daddy.”

“Fuck is wrong with you.”

He thrust in all at one and your cheek smashed against the glass.

“That’s it baby...tight ass puss...I’m about to bust your shit open you better hold on fucking with me.”

“You talk a lot of shit, birthday boy—OH MY GOD.”

“And so do you, Hmph,” Erik pulled your hair, “This dick got you shutting the fuck up though. You kept playing on my dick, baby,” he was fucking you rough, “When I want my pussy, you don’t play games with me. For real. Fuckkkkk.”

“My pussy—oooo—

“FUCK YES. Cum on this dick.”

“Unh—

“Nah, get up, that’s it, arch your back.”

“Don’t stop, baby.”

“Mhm.”

“Yes!”

As soon as he let that dick out you were squirting. Erik didn’t give you time to come down from your orgasmic high when he picked you up, put you on the bed, and spread your legs.

“Let me back in there...ahhh, yes.”

You felt hot tears roll down your face. He looked so calm and cool but his dick was hitting you hard and it was overwhelmingly good. He studied your expression and kissed you from time to time.

“You had that pussy in face on video last night...I wanted to fuck you so bad...you knew what time it was when you came here...I was getting up in that pussy, right?”

You tried to speak but your bottom lip was trembling so much and he was making your pussy cum again.

“You ain’t gotta say nothing just lay there and let me fuck you.”

He started sucking on your neck while his hips stroked all that fat dick in and out of you.

“I’m about to nut in my pussy...stay just like that...don’t you fucking move...this my pussy...I’m a be in my pussy all fucking night for my birthday...take this dick—“

Erik sat up on his hands and worked his hips faster. You couldn’t see his eyes with his locs in his face. He was too busy watching the way he fucked you. You couldn’t keep your eyes away either. So much cream. So wet and gushy.

“Daddy, Unh, oh my god, daddy, I love you!!”

Erik pushed your thighs back and held his dick deep inside you.

“Daddy, I love you!!!”

He chuckled and bit his lip.

“I love you too, baby girl. Thank you for this tight pussy on my birthday.”

The way he said that it had you squeezing his dick with your walls.

“Let my dick go...you want some more?”

You nod your head with a pout of your lip.

“Nasty, freaky, bitch. I’ll give you some more dick.”

You couldn’t wait.

#killmonger x reader #killmonger smut #Erik Killmonger #killmonger imagine #nahimjustfeelingit writes

628 notes · View notes

sashi-ya · 3 years

Note

Is it ok if I request a Law x Yonko reader? For once the reader is badass and strong 😎 has her own crew and is well respected yet she fell in love with Trafalgar Water D. Law

Hi!! Of course! I fell in love with the idea. I think Law deserves a strong woman on his side, and this type of dynamic is one of my favorites!! It was intended to be a OS but I got too invested on the story so I decided to part it in at least another part that I'll be posting in a few days. I hope you don't mind! Plus I included some NSFW too, because the tension between the Yonkou and Law was really high! I hope you enjoy it and stay tuned for the second part if you like it 💖 Thanks for reading and supporting my work!

NSFW - Trafalgar D. Water Law x FemYonkou! Reader - PART 1

TW: NSFW. 18+ Minors DNI. Rough and unprotected sex. Chocking.

WC: 4.1K

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31973146

Part 2

Part 3

Final/Part 4

“My dear captain, someone is on the coast!!”, your most loyal nakama comes running through the door of your huge castle with the news. “Mmm, I wonder who it could be…”, you tell her. “I’m afraid whoever we’ve been waiting for has arrived, Captain”, she says, looking at the ground. You have always hated how they are afraid to look directly to your eyes, even though you consider them your equals. But you guess it’s because of your powerful aura, or the respect they have for you.

“Let’s be a good host. His crew can come to the castle once we have talked. He would probably be staying the night, so tell the boys to prepare the royal guest room, ok?”, you order your first commander with a lovely smile.

You laugh, some say your laughter is something similar to a demon, but hey, that’s part of your identity as a yonkou, so… You wait for your guest sitting on your throne, admiring your brilliant rings. Suddenly the big door in front of you opens and there he is, the brat you’ve been waiting for.

You lick your lips, wondering when you will be tasting that sweet candy. No man or woman could ever resist your beauty, or your power.

The steps of that tattooed punk echoes all around the huge room. He is wearing a black coat that covers his whole body from his neck to his ankles, a funny looking white hat, and a big katana over his shoulder. “I hope this is not the only bigger thing he carries…” you think while smiling at him, trying to admire those grey eyes you saw on his wanted poster. But he does not show them, he walks slowly, covering his gaze with the visor of his hat. “Oh, you are trying to look mysterious, I get it punk”, you say to yourself.

He is now in front of you, and finally looks at you. He is even hotter than what you thought. It surprised you when your den den mushi rang and it was him requesting an audience with you, but even though you know this brat is dangerous, you accepted it right away.

“So, Trafalgar D. Water Law, huh? what brings you here?”, you ask him, crossing your legs and bending over a little to see his face. Your throne is a little elevated from the floor, so you look down at him.

“I’m here to ask you for an alliance”, he tells you, fixing his cold eyes on yours. “Oh, I see… an alliance. But aren’t you in one with the Mugiwaras? Why would you want an alliance with a Yonkou? Didn’t you lose your Shichibukai title because of an alliance? ”, you inquire him.

“Heh, I see you have more information about me than I thought…”, he tells you with sneering contempt. That pisses you off, hard. Who do you think you are, little rookie?... You stand up, violently, solemnly. Your black feather coat over your shoulders makes a loud noise, your hair flows over your back. You start walking down the little stairs off your throne and stand up in front of Trafalgar Law. He backs up a little, even if he looks like a total badass, you are scary for him.

“Tell me Law, why do you think I am an emperor of the sea, huh? Do you think you are stronger? Do you think you can outsmart me?”, you tell him firmly, centimeters from his face. Law gasps, he is trying not to look scared, but he is, pretty much indeed. He remains silent.

“Do you think you can put me down as you did with my old friend Doffy? Ha! poor Doffy, he was pissed that his little ex retainer fucked his whole life… Well, I guess that’s what you get for not being incredibly strong and intelligent”, you smirk at him, and begin to walk. The sound of your hills resonates on Law’s head. But even if he might be a little scared, you know he is smarter and stronger than he looks, so you must be careful, especially because he is at your back.

“Why don’t we have dinner and discuss your offer?”, you tell him, this time a little more friendly. “Yeah…”, he tells you with that low voice he has, that makes you bite your lip. Of course you are curious about his proposal and his true intentions, but damn, you wish you were devouring him right now.

You turn your head to the side and tell him “Follow me”, over your shoulder. And keep walking to the dining room.

Once the two of you arrive at the dining room, a big table is waiting for you. Candles on each side of the table, several delicatessens served on silver platters. “Take a seat, please”, you invite Law to sit while you sit on yours.

Law and you are face to face on each side of the table. You bend a little over the table, with your elbows over it, and interlocking your fingers. You show yourself interested in him, smirking sexily. “So, I’m all ears. Tell me about your offering”, you say.

Law takes off his hat letting you see his disheveled black hair and adopts the same position as you. “Well, as I told you before, I want to form an alliance with you”. He is short and concise. You raise an eyebrow, what does he want from you?...

“Why? What do you want from me? and what do I get in return?”, you ask before sipping some red wine from a big crystal cup. “You will be able to defeat the other three yonkous, as long as I can see the red poneglyph you have in here”, he says straight to your face.

You widen your eyes, surprised that he knew you have such a treasure in your hands. “I’m surprised Mr. Trafalgar. You have indeed, more information than I thought… I wonder who told you about it. I’m a little concerned at this point, maybe you are some kind of undercover agent from the marines?”, you tell him, fixing your eyes on him.

Law gasps subtly, his lips part and for a moment he remains silent. He is also looking at you, and you can see a red spark in his eyes. “I’m not with the marines”, he tells you firmly. You begin to laugh and stab the bistec on your plate with the knife. “Of course you aren’t, if you were one you would have denied it instantly…”, you tell him and taste a piece of meat.

The tension floods the ambient, you want to show how dominant you can be, but at the same time you wish he were dominating you in your room.

“Fine, if I accept that means that you and the Mugiwaras will be my allies, right?”, you ask him, showing him you are sure, but deep inside wondering if you made the best decision, after all, pirates alliances are often marked with betrayal…

“That’s right”, Law tells you. “Listen to me closely, little brat. If you happen to show the slightest sign of betrayal, you will know exactly why I’m named “The Sadist”. Are we clear?”, you tell -threaten- him. “I know exactly what you are capable of. Don’t worry, I won't betray you”, he assures you, firmly.

“Let’s have a celebration, then”, you tell him and order your subordinates to bring the dessert. “I’m not a man of celebration, could you please show me my room? tomorrow morning I’ll be telling you all about my plan to take down the other yonkous”, he tells you denying your invitation to a little private party. You are upset, angry… but you won’t show it to him, so, you tell your crew members to show him his room with a big smile on your face.

Once he leaves the dining room, you walk to yours with strong steps, frustrated. "Nobody has ever refused my invitation…". A cold shower cools your annoyance a little but not enough. You snuggle into bed and fix your sight on the big ceiling of your room. "Damn brat, why is he so hot? And for what?"... you go to sleep planning the best way to catch your prey in your spiderweb. You are used to getting everything you want, and Law of course is no exception.

Morning comes and the sun outside shines more than ever. You’ve been planning the whole night on how to seduce your guest, so you order your subordinates to prepare a special breakfast next to the pool. You choose to wear a tight bikini, those who show more than what they can cover, and a white semi-transparent kimono over it… after all, he is a man. He shouldn’t be resisting the lure of your beauty.

When you get to the pool patio, he is already there having a cup of tea, with those lean long legs, wearing an unbuttoned black shirt that allows you to enjoy his tattooed chest. You contemplate the handsome man from the arcade that connects the patio with the castle. You took a finger to your lips planning the next step on your plan.

“Good morning my dear guest and ally!”, you greet him, while sitting next to him under the big umbrella. “Good morning”, he salutes you, looking at you with those intense grey eyes. You give him a side smirk and grab a slice of orange, for some reason none of you look down, and you keep staring at each other. Perhaps trying to fight for dominance, perhaps because he wanted to seduce you as much as you do.

You take the slice to your mouth, and a drop of the juice runs through the commissure of your lips. He follows the path the bead of citric trails on your mouth with his eyes. He approaches you with his hand and runs his inked thumb over your lips. The sensation of his soft surgeon fingertip over your lips feels so enticing. You wish you could suck his finger, yet, he is the one who should succumb first, not you.

The moment gets interrupted when one of your maids offers you coffee. The strong black coffee that keeps you going in the morning, sweet, caffeinated elixir that today isn’t necessary, something else keeps you energized. You gaze at the maid, with hate in your eyes for interrupting such an intense moment. You tell her with a false smile, “yes, please”. She serves you a cup and runs away, quickly, scared as hell.

Leaning on the backseat of the couch with the cup on your hand, you cross your legs, letting some skin peek through the opening of the kimono. “So, Law, tell me about your plan”, you tell him. “Right, so I’ll be staying here for a few weeks, if you don’t mind”, he informs you and keeps talking about the plan. You lick your teeth; you don’t even listen to anything about the plan. You are satisfied as you will be having your sweet candy with you for a long time…

“Perfect, so the plan is set. I’m glad we are allies, Law”, you tell him as you stand up, and walk up to him. You place your hand over his shoulder and look down at him with a smile. “Aren’t you hot? let’s enjoy the pool”, you invite him and keep walking to the edge of the pool. You untie your kimono letting it slide off to the floor. You can feel Law’s sight pinned to your back and even lower, yet he is not moving.

“Right, you are a devil fruit user” you tell him pouting, but either way you dip in the pool. When you emerge from underwater, you take your wet hair out of the face, and get out of the lido. Your bikini turns a little bit see thru and you see how Law looks directly to your now notorious erected nipples from the cold water. You have an evil grin on your face, and he seems to be enjoying every inch of your skin.

“Do you like what you see, huh?”, you tease him. He looks at you, with piercing eyes, stands up and walks up to you. “Huh?”, you say but before you could even continue with a cocky phrase, he is already grabbing you by your neck.

You gasp, ‘cause you got slightly scared, but your bossy attitude won’t let you show it. You begin to chuckle with that -demon- laughter you have. And suddenly stopping you tell him, “What do you think you are doing?”. Law squeezes your carotids even more tighter approaching his face to yours and tells you, “Don’t play with me, if you want me to fuck you just tell me”. “Let go of me”, you command him. He sets your neck free, but his nose still is almost touching yours. “Before I let you walk, you gotta show me how you crawl, brat”, you whisper to him. You celebrate internally how he has already fallen into your trap; he couldn’t resist you. Another victim, another candy to taste, this time a spicy rather than a sweet one.

Law and you keep looking at each other for several minutes more, perhaps playing a game of power, who is gonna be the first to cave in and kiss the other?... Your heart beats faster, the tension is in a way arousing, you hold yourself back while sometimes your gaze wanders over his lips… so enticing.

You were about to cave in when his den den mushi rings. He smiles at you, seductively, and turns around to pick up the transponder. You decide to leave the patio and go to your room, you are way hornier than you think, and falling into his arms that soon it’s not your style. Or so that’s what you think…

You spent the whole day in your room, thinking about your next move. Some of your commanders have come to visit you and asked you about the new alliance, but you seemed so invested in seducing Law that you forgot about your responsibilities.

The night comes, and you are getting ready for dinner. You are excited almost like a little girl, finally you are going to see that face that got your heart beating fast. You have chosen to wear a pretty, draped black dress, not so revealing yet not conservative at all. Your back is completely naked and has a slit on the side of the skirt. Your typical fine jewelry and heels that can kill if you happen to step on someone.

Law is always first in the dining room, this time accompanied by three of his most loyal nakamas. A polar bear dressed in a black suit, and two guys with hats that start drooling when they see you enter the room. The four of them stand up from their seats “Cap… captain…!”, says the one using an orca hat. “Shachi, shut up”, says the other with a hat that puts “PENGUIN” over it.

“Good night sirs, please take a seat”, you tell them. One of the menials runs to your place and moves the chair for you. “Thank you, darling. You can bring the food whenever it is ready”, you tell him, with a big smile. You usually aren’t so sweet with others, but tonight you are in a good mood for sure.

“So, you are the high officials of the Heart Pirates, huh? nice to meet you”, you tell them with your intense gaze placed on each one. The humans swallow, they are intimidated by your imposing presence. The polar bear stands up once again and shouts “AY AY, NICE TO MEET YOU! I’M BEPO!”. You are kind of overwhelmed by how noisy the Mink is, but you think it is kinda cute. Law tells Bepo to sit down and lower the voice, and the bear repeats several times how sorry he is. You giggle a little and tell him “It’s ok, Law! Bepo you are a cutie, nice to meet you”.

The food is served, and everyone starts to taste the wonderful creations of your chef team. You can’t help but peer at your prey while eating. He notices your persistent stare and fixes his eyes on yours. That piercing, grey, icy stare that makes a shiver run through your spine and you’re breathing subtly uncontrollably. No person has made you lose control before, you are known for being cruel and cold, you haven’t felt in love ever in your life, but this brat… this brat has something special.

“Guys get back to the Polar”, Law commands his nakamas. “They can stay in one of the rooms if they want, Law”, you tell him, and the guys start getting excited with red cheeks. “It’s an order, get back to the polar, please”, he orders his subordinates with a cold stare. You roll your eyes back, because you know he is protecting his crew from you, he respects your power and knows well how cruel you can be when you want something. “Fine, fine…”, Bepo, and the guys say and walk away.

“Do you want to have a drink in the garden, Law?”, you offer him after his nakamas have left the place. He looks at you and takes a few seconds to finally respond. “After you”, he tells you and you two start walking to the patio.

The blue night sky looks deep, the sound of the running water of the many fountains competes against the song of frogs and crickets. Some torches light up the path to the lawn chairs. As you walk on the deck, you ask him “Do you always carry your katana wherever you go, Law? Are you afraid of something? He responds from behind “I’m not, I simply take my precautions”. You try to sound strong and petty, but the truth is that the one who is scared is you.

When you finally take your seats on the couches, both of you cross your legs. Your dress allows some skin of your thighs to peek through, and Law can’t resist but scan your whole body with those grey eyes. You do the same, his tight jeans, seems to get even more tighter in between his legs. The unsolved sexual tension between the two of you it’s way too high to ignore, and at this point you are sure Law has on his mind the constant idea of fucking you, as much as you do.

You can’t take it anymore; you are just fed up. This is taking too damn long, you want him in between your legs, now. So, you suddenly and violently stand up, slapping the table with your hands. Law even though got a little scared, he remains still, acting swanky as always. You wait for him to say something, but he just stares. You are tired of this pestering feeling, a flame inside you burns even hotter. Law smiles at you with that cocky smirk and pats his lap. “Come here”, he tells you.

Even if you were dying to sit there, you are just too arrogant to do as a man says, and fighting against your true desires, walk away. “Damn brat”, you say to yourself while walking through the deck stepping strong so your heels sound louder in the middle of the night.

Suddenly, someone grabs you by the wrist and turns you around. You have the Surgeon of Death´s face in front of yours. You gasp, he is not smirking, but his eyes show pure desire, his breathing is accelerated as much as yours. Your hand is directed to his crotch by him. You can feel his hard bulge growing under your palm. You have a side grin. And after a few seconds, he kisses you so passionately, so lustfully, so needy. His inked hands grabbing your hair, pulling your head back, letting your neck exposed so he can dig in like a beast.

“Let’s go to my room, Law”, you gasp in between steamy kisses. “Fine… Room… Shambles”, he says and you two are teletransported to your bed. You land into your mattress while Law is standing up at the feet of your bed. You smile seductively at him, full of desire when he begins to take off his black shirt. The big heart tattooed on his chest that reaches almost to his belly button, his abs slightly defined, the V that his lower stomach muscles form over his pelvis, and a little happy trail that makes you wonder where it finishes, makes you squirm and recognize how needy for this man you are. “Come here, brat”, you tell him with a beckoning finger.

Law is over you in no time, cradling your face with his hand. Your fingers trail the inked lines on his chest. He begins to kiss your neck, lower and lower, his hand is now traveling under the slit of your dress, up through your thigh and even higher. His soft hand caresses the side of your waist, while the other slowly slides off the right strap of your dress, exposing to him your breast.

His tongue plays with your nipple, and you moan his name. A string of saliva forms when slowly relieves the nipple from his lips and looks at you with intense lust. Your hands that were lingering over his bulge are now at each side of his head, and in a simple but fast movement you are now over him, straddling your hips. You grind against his sex, touring your hands over his tattooed chest. You slowly bend over him, biting his neck, playing with your tongue with the little hoops he has hanging from his ears. Law’s hand on your butt, squeezing hard your flesh.

You slide off your other strap, so your dress falls off exposing your torso and beautiful breasts to him. The black dress gets stuck on your hips and you start softly jumping over his aching dick, still trapped in his jeans. Law is sweating, he is about to burst, and you haven’t even touched his sex yet. You don’t even care about the foreplay, you want him to flood your insides, and he wants it too.

He reaches for his zipper and lowers it. You help him by pulling down his jeans and his boxers, letting free his member. To your surprise the left side of his groin area is also inked with a little sword. At first it looked suspicious, but you are so horny that instantly jump over his sex.

Your already wet panties become even wetter when you rub your sex against his. Law closes his eyes, every time your core touches the tip of his cock, like a sweet torture. Until this is too much for him and pushes you to the mattress. You flop down on your back and Law violently tears off your panties. “I’m gonna fuck the hell out of you, bitch”, he tells you gasping, and penetrates you, rough and deep.

“Mh, Law”, you whine, invaded by the pleasure his cock against your walls makes you feel. He has his teeth clenched making his mandible even more sharp. Your bodies are covered in sweat as he pounds you with hard fast thrusts. Your moans would probably make everyone in the castle wake up, but you don’t really care.

Law passes his hand on your back, lifting you as you cross your legs around his waist. You are now seated over him. Your breasts pressed against his chest, face to face, while he keeps penetrating you. The both of you reach climax, you first and then Law. Your core feels how his pulsating member empties inside it. He gets you hugged tight, and you rest your head over his shoulder enjoying how full you feel, how satisfied you feel after relieving that sexual tension between the two of you. n

Even if you insist on this being all just sex, and haven't been in love before, something about being skin to skin with a man after having sex feels better than you thought. Never in your life have you experienced being hugged to someone, so closely, so intimate. His warm breath caresses the skin of your shoulder, and you close your eyes in hope this moment never ends.

Law slowly helps you lay on bed, and he does the same. You are lying on your side while Law is on his back looking at the ceiling. You worship how his inked chest goes up and down with every inspiration and you can't help but put your hand over it. He looks at you and pulls you next to him. Your face is now over his arm, and he caresses your naked back. He probably knows this is a whole new experience for you, as you are known to be heartless… but the truth is that you have always been lonely…

PART 2

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lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Between Fifth And You

AO3

chapter two

It’s Saturday night for Manhattan’s elite, and we know what that means. The Noble House of Black beckons, and one particularly family seems to be a little behind on preparations—at least, their youngest son is.

Spotted—Logan Tremblay, looking hot in nothing but basketball shorts. Better soak up that fading blue August heat while you can, Lo. Or are you more interested in something a little more…fiery? But in the LES? Why so far from home, Dorothy? Eye color isn’t the only thing green about the Tremblay family. And they have a bad habit of sorting everything out with a little help from Ben Franklin.

“Shoot, shoot!”

Logan pivoted on his heel and was able to toss the ball around his opponent’s shoulder. He only caught a glimpse of red hair as Finn caught it with ease and jumped it up to the rim.

Finn O’Hara. One of these days Logan was going to step on his own shoes watching Finn O’Hara. His pale chest looked like sugar dusting, his exertion-red cheeks the goddamn cherry.

“Point moo-oi!” Finn shouted, slapping Will Morgan and Percy Marshall on their bare backs. “That’s how you say it, right, Tremblay?”

Logan feigned a shudder. “Non.”

“Shorty’s got game,” Will laughed, sweat dripping down his dark brown skin, darkening the leather bracelets he wore.

Percy shook his head, swallowing over a caught-breath, his silver Star of David swinging at his throat. “Shorty must be cheating with his Upper Side shoes.”

Logan just narrowed his eyes and laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’re just tall. Doesn’t mean you’re good.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mazel tov, you fucker.”

“I’m finally winning,” Finn grinned. “And now I gotta get back to the shop. I said be back in five…pretty sure it’s been fifty-five.”

Logan swallowed. “I’ll—I’ll walk you.”

Percy slapped him on the back as they left, and Finn held the cage door of the basketball court open for him.

“So, you’re back at school?” Finn asked as he pulled his shirt on. Logan nodded, following suit, picking at the neck where it stuck to his sweaty skin.

“Yeah,” Logan nodded. “I’m supposed to be getting fitted for a suit right now.”

Finn snorted. “What does that have to do with school?”

“Oh,” the corner of Logan’s mouth raised as he realized. “Nothing, I…well, you know. The social scene. It sort of all feels like one thing, up there.”

Finn pouted at him. “Poor baby. Too many parties.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Logan laughed.

“Hey, feel like lunch?”

“I thought you had to be back.”

Finn shrugged. “I’m hungry.”

Logan bit his lip, wondering how many different ways his older sisters could actually kill him. Honestly, he thought he’d just die on the spot of he passed up the change to be squeezed into one of the small restaurants that Finn frequented. Screw the grand tables of his life. Logan wanted cracked leather booths small enough to let their ankles brush. Not that he’d ever say that out loud.

Finn didn’t disappoint. They walked down the shade of Mott street, then turned at a bakeshop on the corner. Finn pointed at it.

“You’ve been here, haven’t you?”

Logan raised a shoulder. “I don’t get down here much.”

Finn snorted. “Listen to you. Down here. You’re down here enough to pop into my bookstore all the time.”

Logan studied the cakes in the windows, biting his lip when he realized Finn’s eyes were still on him in the reflection. “I…yeah.”

Finn flicked the bill of Logan’s hat which shaded the back of his neck. “How’s that latest book you bought?”

Logan turned away from the window to get them walking again, not sure where they were going but trusting Finn to lead. “I’m starting school, man, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

Finn just laughed. “Come on, let’s catch the 6.”

Logan found himself squeezed into a tiny French restaurant in the West Village that served them even tinier croissants.

“I know the chef,” Finn said popping one he had spread jam and butter on into his mouth. “Dumo. Don’t pay a cent. I fucking love these things.”

Logan would have bought Finn a thousand of the tiny pastries without a blink just to see him lick a bit of jam from his thumb again.

“Dumo doesn’t sound very French…” Logan began cutting up his waffle.

Finn laughed. “Pascal Dumais does.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s more like it.”

Logan glanced at a woman and her baby, who had started crying. He tried to think of something to say. For someone who’s job seemed to be making small talk at various parties and charming people with his accent—or so his mother sometimes said—he sure was horrible at it.

“So, what’s the suit for?” Finn asked, taking a sip of his black coffee.

“A fashion show,” Logan sighed, hiding his surprise—and maybe delight—at Finn’s unknowing shrug. “It’s…sort of a lot. Lots of people and cameras. And I always have to wear something green.”

Finn hummed in understanding. “It’s the eyes, yeah?”

Logan nodded. “A lot of fast English, too.”

Finn tilted his head. “I didn’t know that was hard for you. You’re perfect.”

Logan tried not to flush and covered it with a shrug. “I lived in France until I was fifteen before we finally moved to my dad. It’s still nice to be able to read lips sometimes. With the flashes and they make it super dark…I don’t know.”

“No, that makes sense,” Finn said, brown eyes soft. He smiled. “Hey, well, if you don’t want to go to the fitting, come man the shop with me. I’d love the company.”

Logan looked at him and ached, but saw his older sister Noelle’s pleading, excited expression in his mind. He might not love the scene, but he loved his sisters. “I wish I could. Really.”

They finished up their food and Logan had to admit that he lingered over his coffee until Finn said he absolutely had to leave.

“Hey, Tremblay,” Finn called from down the sidewalk, and Logan turned in the full knowledge that seeing the smile Finn sent him would only make him want to stay more.

The dutiful son wants the bookshop boy…I don’t know, Lo. How will their royal highnesses feel about that?

“Come buy more books you don’t read soon, okay?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile back. “D’accord.”

Finn walked backwards a few steps, yelling, “And bring me something green!” before turning and jogging down the subway stairs.

Logan laughed as he called his driver to him, escaping the heat for air conditioned leather.

XOXO

Pearls or diamonds, Upper Siders? Armani or Ralph? What, like you have other questions tonight?

Well, I have one for you. A tip from a friendly scroller gave me a peak at tonight’s guest list. Do you think we’re in for more than just a showdown on the runway? Cat fights over cat walks is what I always say.

XOXO.

[Image description: Two name cards reading, from left to right, Leo Knut and Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Sebastian Montague]

Remus found Julian already dressed and tapping at a game on his phone when he descended the winding staircase of their penthouse.

“You waiting for mom and dad?” Remus said, dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“And you,” Julian said.

“Right, right,” Remus smoothed his black tuxedo, trying to ignore the subtle glint of blue-silver embroidered into the black velvet. His mother was a planner—which Remus liked usually—but this design had not aged well. This suit had a twin that it no longer belonged with. Remus clenched his jaw as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He’d hoped wearing it would feel like defiance.

But it only felt like he was lonely. He gave his head a hard shake. He had Leo. He couldn’t let New York throw him.

“Gossip Girl’s going crazy. Of course,” Julian said.

“Jules, you shouldn’t read that stuff,” Remus sighed. “It’s just gossip—”

“Just posted about Sirius,” Julian murmured.

Remus huffed, pushing his hair out of its too neat style in the mirror. “So?”

Julian shrugged, but pointedly looked away when Remus took out his own phone.

The photo looked like one from the paparazzi, but the sight of Sirius on the red carpet made Remus’ throat close up.

I spy a statement piece. Or maybe it’s just a statement. Sirius Black arrives on the red carpet—or should I say black carpet—with none other than New York’s favorite icon, in worship and fashion alike. The Saint of these streets is looking particularly dashing tonight, hand in hand with the heir of this city. Ouch, Re. Looks like you’ve been dethroned.

Remus stared down at the screen, neck hot. Sirius’ suit sleeves had the barely there leather half moon cut-outs that Remus remembered tracing onto his skin.

Sirius had smiled into their kiss. Think anyone will notice?

Remus had just laughed. Everyone will notice.

But there was Saint, a crown of moonstones in his golden hair.

Remus looked down at his own suit. Of course Saint had thought of a way they’d match, that was all it was, but it still felt like a snub.

“I sort of miss him,” Julian said quietly.

Remus’ heart pulled. He swallowed and clicked his phone off. He looked at Julian, who looked almost sheepish.

“Do you?” Julian asked even more quietly.

“Don’t you like Leo?” Remus asked.

“Of course,” Julian nodded quickly. “But…”

“Remus,” Hope smiled, coming down the stairs arm-in-arm with their father. “Jules. Ready, boys?”

Remus didn’t think saying no was an option. He cleared his throat, pushed his hair back.

“Almost,” he said, backtracking towards the stairs. “Just a second. Gotta call Leo, make sure he hasn’t left yet.”

XOXO

“We can watch a livestream of the red carpet and the show,” Natalie said. “Sit.”

Finn groaned, squished beside Natalie on her tiny sofa. “That feels like I’m stalking him.”

“We’re allowed to stalk the boys we like.”

“You’re dating my brother, Nat. Does this mean you stalked him?”

“It really does,” Alex said, coming in from the kitchen with their margaritas and dropping a kiss to Natalie’s temple.

“Hm,” Natalie smiled up at him, accepting a kiss to her lips. “Scruffy.”

Finn sighed and pulled a knee up to his chest, watching the loading video Natalie had pulled up.

“Your wifi sucks,” he mumbled.

“It’ll load,” Natalie scooted over for Alex and passed Finn his drink.

“Salsa, too,” Finn said, waving it over.

Finally, the video popped up to a view of the red carpet.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Alex said.

“Be nice,” Natalie laughed. “It’s fashion!”

“Look,” Alex sighed. “I know they’re wealthy and it’s suppose to be all, I don’t know sandy beaches and wristwatches, but not a single one of these people look remotely happy. Like take a look at this guy—“

Finn looked over the sandy-haired man posing in front of the cameras—well, not posing, really. Kasey Winter, the commentators were saying.

“Nice hair,” Natalie crunched on a chip. “And listen to that, his mother’s one of the biggest producers at Weird Sisters Records.”

“Fine, but he looks like he’s ready to kill someone. I mean, anyone else think its kind of fucked up that the New York families go to a New York university where New York businesses draw from New York’s elite?”

“Yes,” Finn and Natalie said in unison.

And then there was Logan.

Finn let out an embarrassing sound and set his drink down, leaning forward.

Logan walked out in front of the cameras with three girls—his sisters, Finn remembered. Not to mention he followed all of them on Instagram. They had a lot of shoes, sure, but they seemed all right.

“I saw this thing on Gossip Girl about one of the sisters,” Natalie said. “She—”

“Nat, why the hell do you read that?”

Natalie shot him a look. “Like you don’t.”

Finn ignored them, too focused on the dark, nearly black, velvety green cape—or was it cloak?—that covered Logan’s shoulders down to above his elbows, falling to an elegant point at the small of his back over his black suit. The sisters had a similar get-up in one way or another—a green train, a shawl, a corset. Logan’s clasp was a silver fleur-de-lis.

“Green,” Finn breathed.

“What?” Alex asked.

Finn bit the inside of his cheek at Logan’s expression. It was meant to be blank, Finn thought, at-ease and untouchable, but it came off almost enticing. His dark eyelashes swept against his cheeks. Finn watched his throat bob around a swallow, his adored eyes shifting from flash to flash.

“Nothing,” Finn answered his brother.

“How’d you meet this kid anyway, Fish?” his brother asked.

“I was closing up shop about a month ago,” Finn said. “And he stopped at one of our windows. Looked like he’d run the entire island, he was breathing so hard. Not to mention it was pouring like nothing else. Thought he was gonna pass out, so I unlocked the door and let him in to get dry. I don’t know, he was kind of shy at first. Listened to me talk for about an hour before he started giving anything back.” Finn shrugged, watching Logan walk off screen. “I invite him to play basketball with me, Morg, and Percy now. We get lunch after sometimes.”

Natalie sighed. “He looked like one unhappy camper.”

“I think his family puts a lot of pressure on him. He’s the baby. Only son. All that bullshit.”

“I kind of want that cape,” Natalie said.

Alex sighed. “That’s the idea.”

Natalie slapped his chest, then kissed his cheek, and Finn watched Logan walk off-screen.

XOXO

“What say you, Capulet?”

Sirius looked down at Saint at his shoulder. “They’re out of crab puffs.”

“Boo,” Saint said. “You still closing the show?”

“Yep.”

“Shouldn’t you be in hair and makeup?”

“Yep.”

Saint stepped in front of him, the gold band of moonstones nestled in his curls glinting in the dark stage lights. “Looking for someone?”

Sirius just reached out and ran a gentle thumbnail beneath where Saint’s golden eyeliner had smudged against his brown skin, striking it back to a point. “Nope. See you after the show.”

Saint clucked his tongue. “I’m unimpressed.”

“What else is new?” Sirius said.

Saint went to smile, when his eyes flickered behind Sirius and he raised his eyebrows. “That.”

Sirius turned around, and quickly schooled his expression. The cameras were going wild, and in front of all the flashing lights was Remus, hand-in-hand with Leo Knut.

“They make a sunshine pair,” Saint said from beside him. “How’re you feeling?”

Sirius touched two fingers to one of the black-leather moons on his jacket sleeve. They were meant to go with Remus’ stars. He remembered planning for them. He’d thought…part of him had thought if he’d worn them tonight—

“Cloudy sky,” he replied to Saint.

“I was gonna say dappled sunlight in…” Saint glanced around. “A dark forest.”

Remus and Leo were wearing dress shirts, collars rumpled and unbuttoned at their throats, each in a smooth shade of cream. Their hands, decked out in golden rings, were laced together, and they both wore pale gray slacks, slim cut, and laceless nikes.

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun…hmm, but don’t I spy some burning jealous?

“What are we going for here,” Saint raised an eyebrow. “Left in a hurry and didn’t get the dress code?”

“We’re going against me,” Sirius replied, slipping his hands into his pockets and trying to stand straight. “That’s all.”

“Sunlight in a dark forest, indeed.”

Sirius watched them looking out over the flashes, and tried not to look surprised when golden eyes met his own. Remus’ expression didn’t change either. Instead, he simply blinked, then looked away. Leo, tall and lean, leaned into his ear, and Remus smiled. The cameras popped like champagne.

I love right here, Sirius remembered his own voice, the feeling of the soft skin by Remus’ eye beneath his thumb. I love right here when you smile.

“I need to get backstage,” Sirius said shortly, and turned on his heel.

“I’ll be watching.”

“Don’t I know,” Sirius called as he weaved his way through the crowd, heading backstage. The woman with a radio in her ear looked annoyed and nervous when he slipped past her, and radioed that he had arrived to whoever it was that needed to know.

“Sirius!” Alice called, hands full of makeup brushes and up in the air. “Jesus Christ, do you think I have all fucking night?”

Sirius shrugged out of his red carpet jacket—which someone took—and slid into her chair. “Sorry, Al.”

She twirled a protective cape around his shoulders, snapping it at the base of his neck. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. But then again, I think everyone’s pretty.”

Sirius closed his eyes, letting her begin. “People are.”

Alice had just finished contour when Sirius all but felt his mother’s presence. A shift in the air. A cooler wind. People standing up straighter and shivering.

“Sirius,” his mother’s face appeared in the mirror. Her red lipstick was the brightest thing about her, and even that was almost mauve. Her dress was tight around her breasts, but cascaded in thick waves of velvet behind her, and she wore tall leather boots. It almost looked like armor. “You’re very late, darling.”

“Sorry,” Sirius said. “Saint and I got caught up in the crowd, I guess.”

She hummed. “You two looked fetching out there. He’s much more pleasing than that other boy ever was. His family is important, too.”

It was true, that his mother had never liked Remus much. Though, Sirius couldn’t compare him and Saint. They were two different oceans.

“Get dressed,” his mother breathed, and was already snapping her fingers at one of the other models before Sirius could say another word.

“All right?” Alice asked him quietly.

Sirius looked at himself in the mirror. Her contour made his face look almost gaunt, as was the general makeup for all of the models, and he knew he’d be given dark eye makeup next, his hair fluffed into perfect curls.

“Fine,” Sirius said, and closed his eyes to let her work.

Sirius was shrugging into his given outfit—a billowing longcoat, 20th century in fashion, and a longer tunic made almost entirely of the thinnest black silk. It would shimmer when he walked, he knew, and his tall, lace-up boots, the flat sole so thin and delicate that he almost felt barefoot, would disappear beneath the shimmer. His mother was cold, stubborn, and cruel sometimes, an unfeeling, yawning sort of dark, but she was talented.

“Lord Vader,” came a voice from behind him, and Sirius laughed even before he turned to face Thomas Walker.

“Sounds about right,” Sirius said, and they clasped hands, pulling them into a one-armed hug. “You look fantastic, though.”

Thomas spun slowly on his heel, letting the long, loose fitting white linen of his button-down—which went out in two, tuxedo-like tails at his back—flare out above his slim, black trousers. He wore a thin scarf of distressed wool.

“Like a fallen gentleman, no?” Thomas grinned. “I might try and steal these pants. And maybe the shirt for Noelle.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sirius smiled, spying Noelle’s green eyes behind his shoulder. “She’ll love that.”

Noelle wrapped her arms, which were draped in a transparent green cloth, around Thomas’ waist. “Thanks for thinking of me, T baby.”

Thomas laughed in surprise. “Who let you back stage?”

“I’m a Tremblay, they’ll let us in anywhere.”

Thomas turned his head to capture Noelle in a soft kiss.

“See you after, hm?” Noelle said. “I’m gonna go say hi to my friend, she’s walking tonight, too.”

“Yeah, we’ll ride to Honeyduke’s together.”

Noelle raised an eyebrow at him. “You coming, Black?”

“Saint all but owns the place,” Sirius said. “Of course I am.”

Sirius walked. He didn’t look down, or hear the cameras. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, to be up here, not able to see past the lights—but something tonight was different. It felt as it had the night of his and Remus’ first kiss.

In that show, he had had one, thin line of black lipstick traced over the center of his bottom lip. It had marked Remus’ throat and cheeks like soot by the end of it all.

Remus had been waiting for him back stage.

“Come here,” Remus had whispered, and laced their fingers together.

“Where?” Sirius had answered, surprised by their palms pressing together.

But it hadn’t been a place. Remus had pressed them back in between clothing racks, and crashed their mouths together.

Here, Remus had whispered, and kissed him again.

Sirius felt the absence of the stage lights like a wash of cold air, and he stretched out his back, letting his stony face drop a little. He glanced around, but there was no one to be found. His cheeks were warm just thinking about it.

“Good,” his mother said as he passed her by to take off the makeup, and that was all.

XOXO

Saint looked across Honeyduke’s and felt like it was his. Logan was laughing with Thomas and Noelle, and he had Kasey Winter beside him, securing tickets to one of their favorite bands to see together.

“Done,” Kasey said, and flashed one of his rare smiles.

“I knew you were my favorite,” Saint took a sip of his drink, and Kasey scoffed.

“Me or my mom?”

“Maybe a little of both. Oh, and we’re going to sushi beforehand.”

Kasey’s smile was larger now. “Wouldn’t have it any other way. You gonna leave with that drummer again? What’s her name?”

Saint smiled. “Oh, Sally. And I make it a habit to always leave with the drummer.”

Kasey just shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. I’m getting a drink and leaving you to your one-liners.”

Saint watched him go, feeling settled, and set about scanning the room for Sirius. He was sure he’d know if he was there—people tended to swarm to Sirius, even if he didn’t ask for it. It was part of the reason they were so close. People flocked to Saint, too. So, they asked for each other’s company. A more intimate, calm part of life. Sirius was quiet. Saint wasn’t, but he let Saint , for a moment, be that way, too. Saint was loud. Sirius wasn’t, but Saint had his ways to fire him up.

“Another drink, sir?”

Saint looked over his shoulder, only to turn all the way around, interest peaked. The bartender had sandy hair, and a strong jaw, his cheeks textured by acne scars in some places. He had brown eyes—save for a sliver of green in one.

“Only if you have one with me,” Saint said, and glanced down at his name-tag. “Luke.”

Luke arched an eyebrow, pressing the heels of his palms onto the bar between them, revealing rolled up sleeves and some type of vine tattoo, wrapping all around both of his forearms.

“I’m working, sir.”

“Is that a later?” he nodded at the tattoo. “Nice.”

“I don’t think so,” Luke said.

“Oh, no?”

Luke scowled—how did he look so handsome doing that?

“Do you make it a habit to go home with all the waiters, too?”

Saint didn’t let his expression flicker, just smiled nice and slow.

“Hillrock,” Saint said. “Neat.”

The barkeep turned away.

Ouch. Looks like not everyone worships at your alter, Saint.

XOXO

The elevator doors opened, revealing the party to Sirius one outfit after the next. He had changed for the afterparty—the first of three. He wore a tight, thin black t-shirt and dark jeans. He hadn’t bothered to wash off the dark, smudged eyeliner from the show. His combat boots went up to just below his knee, and had the same nearly naked feeling sole. It made him feel soundless, like a shadow.

Maybe that’s why it was easy to find Remus and stand beside him without him stirring.

“You’re a little underdressed,” Sirius said without looking at him.

“Says the boy wearing a t-shirt,” Remus replied evenly.

Sirius scowled. “I meant at the show.”

“People like to be surprised,” Remus replied evenly.

“Who’s Leo?”

“My boyfriend.”

Sirius turned towards him. “You didn’t tell me you were coming home.”

Remus matched him. They were nearly chest to chest. “You didn’t say a word to me in class.”

“You didn’t—“

“I had the last word,” Remus snapped. “I figured maybe you’d finally have something to say back.”

Sirius stared at him, heart pounding in his ears. For a moment, he let himself look. At the golden eyes, hair more blond than ever from the summer’s sun. Sirius couldn’t stand that mouth set in a frown.

“Guess not,” Remus said softly, lips dropping open in the way they used to before they kissed.

Sirius all but felt him vanish into the writhing crowd.

XOXO

Finn looked up when a flash of color on the morning-silent street outside caught his eye. He set the books he was holding down, took the pen out from between his teeth.

Green.

“What the hell?” Finn laughed as he pulled open the door to his bookshop to find Logan standing there. “It’s five in the fucking morning, what are you doing here? Couldn’t sleep?”

“Never did,” Logan said, and that’s when Finn saw that Logan was still in his suit from the livestream.

“Ah, I see,” Finn said, eyes flicking up and down his broad form. He swallowed dryly. “The nature of afterparties, I suppose. Well, you—you look good. For someone who’s been up all night, I mean.”

Logan just smiled, one of his small, secretive ones. Finn watched as he stepped forward so they were almost toe to toe in the doorway.

“Wh…” Finn’s voice dropped off with a breathless laugh. He couldn’t help but look at Logan’s mouth. His full lips that could speak a language Finn couldn’t even begin to describe.

Logan just reached up to the base of his own throat and unclipped the fleur-de-lis clasp there. In one smooth swoop, he drew his short cloak from his shoulders and around Finn’s, right over his worn gray t-shirt, clicking it in place. The fabric brought a gentle scent, and he figured it must be Logan’s cologne.

“Something green,” Logan said softly. A warm, early morning breeze ruffled his hair, pushing the curls forward. Finn couldn’t move. “What are you doing here?”

“Inventory,” Finn whispered, then cleared his throat. “Inventory.”

“Okay,” Logan said. “I’ll help.”

#between fifth and you lumosinlove #lumosinlove #gossipgirl!au #wolfstar #wolfstar au #o'knutzy #hazelverse #harry potter #Harry Potter au

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Sunscreen (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: You take a trip with Frankie and his three idiotic best friends. They find an interesting purchase in the gift shop.

W/C: 2.9k

Warnings: language, implied sexual content, lots of innuendo and flirting

A/N: HI!!! this is the first fic of the Beyond The Sea series Rach and I are writing! I can’t wait for everyone to read these! I also love @mandoalorian for doing this with me and putting up with my shit!

and happy birthday to the man behind it all!! lots of love for Pedro on this day <3

The moment Frankie steps off the plane and into the hot weather, he feels instantly at peace. He’d never even heard of St. Kitts before Santiago brought it up a few months ago, but as he looks around, he’s already thinking this might have to be the place he brings you on your honeymoon someday, once he gets the courage to propose.

Your bright laughter rings out behind him, a few steps higher as you walk down the stairs for deplaning. “It’s gorgeous,” you grin, wrapping your arms around Frankie’s neck from behind and pressing a loud kiss to his cheek.

“Shut the fuck up and keep it moving,” a loud voice calls from further behind Frankie- it’s Santiago, grumpy from the somewhat-long flight. The energetic man hates sitting still for too long. “You two can make out at the hotel. There’s a whole plane behind us.”

Sighing, you walked along until both you and Frankie had your feet on solid ground. Frankie pulls you into his side with a strong arm, kissing the top of your head and grinning at the way he can already feel a little sweat forming on his brow. God, it’s fucking hot. He loves it. It’s not the grueling heat that plagued the men when they were at boot camp all those years ago; it’s not the sticky humidity that makes Frankie’s curls turn to tufts of frizz beneath his ball cap. It’s just right, he thinks, as a cool breeze rushes through and moves the still heat of the tarmac. “Welcome to paradise, baby,” Frankie grins as he slides his hand down your arm until your fingers lace together.

The resort is beautiful. The lobby is open-aired and gorgeous, with high ceilings and marbled floors. You bounce excitedly alongside Frankie as the two of you walk in, the other three men trailing behind. Benny makes comments to Will about how the two of you are about to be insufferable, and Frankie turns and shoots him a glare.

After you check in, you drag your luggage up to the highest floor. The other three men go to their respective hotel room next door, and Frankie opens the door to your room for you.

As soon as you walk inside, your breath is taken away by the large window, showing you the expanse of the Caribbean Sea, glimmering turquoise. A hand reaches up to cover your mouth, eyes watering as you look up at Frankie. “Oh my god,” you murmur and drop your bags, rushing over.

Frankie had planned this moment. He knew you’d never seen the ocean before just moments ago, but knew you’d love it. You’ve always loved water, loved swimming in pools and creeks and any body of water you could find. The two of you had kept your little window shut during the flight, preventing you from any sneak peeks. “You like it?” he asks as he walks after you, where your face and hands are pressed to the glass.

With eyes sparkling from tears, you turn to him with a grin. “It’s gorgeous.”

“You know there’s a balcony right there,” he teases, putting a hand on your waist and pointing to the side where there’s a sliding glass door. “I’m an idiot,” you laugh and rush over to open it. You step out into the warm air once again, and the smell of sea salt fills your lungs. You can hear the rushing of the ocean, the way it crashes against the shore.

Frankie steps out after you, removing the flannel over his t-shirt. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I think you’re an ocean kind of girl,” he tells you quietly, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I think you’re right,” you agree and grin, kissing the side of his face.

The peaceful moment is interrupted, as always, by a loud whoop from Benny. The sliding door on the balcony over flies open and out rush the Miller brothers and Santiago. “It’s fuckin’ amazing!” Benny laughs as he grips the railing tight, leaning out over it.

“Calm down, Ben,” Will laughs but steps out as well, resting his forearms on the railing. “Look at that. The lovebirds beat us to it.”

“Ah, damn, so they can’t fuck out here now,” Santi teases, causing you to make a face of annoyance.

You lean back against Frankie and roll your eyes. “I was just telling Fish I’ve never seen the ocean,” you admit, placing your hands on his forearms and tracing the strong skin with the pads of your thumbs.

“Really?” All three men ask in sync, surprised.

You nod and shrug. “Parents never took me as a kid or anything, and I’ve never really left the Midwest before I met you fuckers,” you chuckle as you watch the white-capped waves rolling along out in the water.

“Well, you’re welcome,” Santiago grins over at you. It was his whole idea to come, and you’re sure you’ll never hear the end of it. “Could’ve mentioned it sooner though.”

“Didn’t think it mattered,” you shrug, smiling at the way you can feel Frankie’s chest bounce with a laugh. “Come on, let’s go to the beach,” you turn in Frankie’s arms and ask him with a grin, eyes wide with excitement.

“Sure thing, babe,” he nods and steals one more kiss before the two of you walk back into the hotel room.

There’s a voice from the other balcony before Frankie slides the door shut. “We’re going to the bar,” Santi yells. “Meet us there after!”

“What the fuck is this?” Will Miller’s gruff voice conveys across the gift shop, to where you’re admiring a shibori-dyed garment.

Looking up, you hear Benny’s loud laugh. “No way. Why would they even make this shit?” You wander over to where the four men have congregated, all staring at something in Will’s hands.

Santiago does the work for the three of you who have yet to see it and reads the label on the bottle aloud. “Seduction: pheromone sunscreen.” He laughs, absolutely in disbelief. “Awaken her passion with this pheromone-infused tanning lotion. Contains a masculine fragrance and the male pheromone, to attract a female. Damn. Does it work?” He asks the woman behind the counter, who shrugs in response.

Frankie picks up the bottle, and Will grabs another, reading the fine print. “Why in the hell did someone think this was necessary?”

You shrug and lean against him to read it too. “I don’t know. Probably for guys like Will who are desperate,” you tease, earning a playful shove that pushes you into Frankie and makes you lose your balance for a moment. “Fucker,” you mutter and steady yourself on your boyfriend’s arm.

“I’m buying it,” Santiago announces and puts it on the check-out counter. “Fish, I’m going to steal your girl with this,” he declares and pulls you into his side. “The power of the pheromone sunscreen.”

Laughing, you allow it to happen. “Maybe it’ll be irresistible, I don’t know.”

“Hey, don’t awaken my girl’s passion, man,” Frankie whines teasingly and pulls you back, wrapping both arms around you protectively. “If you’re using it, Santi, I’m using it too. It’s only fair.”

“It’s only fair if you don’t,” he shoots back. “She already loves you. It’s not like it’s gonna make her think you’re hotter. It’s only fair if I do it alone, and you’re the control.”

“Hi, I’m not a lab rat,” you speak up and push Santiago’s chest teasingly. “Try it on yourself and see if you can make other girls around here fall in love with you. Better yet, like I said, put it on Will. That’s a real test.”

The quietest of the men is your favorite to tease, mainly because of how he takes it. “You’ve never been in the ocean. I will personally make sure you never get to,” he threatens, lunging after you and making you squeal and dodge it.

“Is it working?” Santiago asks, giving you a full body twirl. You have to admit, the man is good-looking: you’ve always known it, and his glistening abs definitely emphasize it. Sadly for him, nothing about the pheromone sunscreen is making him unbearably attractive in your eyes. Your eyes are hidden behind mirrored sunglasses as you look at him, but you pull them down to roll your eyes at the ridiculous man.

“No,” you say with a sweet smile, taking Frankie’s hand from where it rests on his chest. He’s lying next to you in the two-seat cabana, wearing his swim trunks and ever-present ball cap. “I like this one still,” you grin as you run your eyes up and down his body.

Frankie grins back at you. “Maybe I’ll have to try that shit out,” he laughs, adjusting his hat. “If it’s so seductive, I wouldn’t mind having you all over me.”

Santiago makes a gagging noise and wanders down the beach, to where the Miller boys are playing sand volleyball a hundred yards or so away. “You know that you don’t need that for me to be all over you, baby,” you grin and lean over to give him a kiss. “Can we go swim?” You ask, sitting up and putting your sunglasses on your head.

Frankie sighs softly. This cabana was just getting comfortable. “I was thinking we could tan first,” he says, cracking his neck. “But if you want to, let’s go.”

You squeal and hop up, taking off the sunglasses before tugging on your bikini top and adjusting the bra. Frankie ogles your chest in the swimsuit and you smack his arm. “Francisco Morales, cut that out or I’m going to sit you back down and suck your dick right now.”

Frankie gulps. “Is that an offer, or-”

“Come on, Fishie,” you laugh. Grabbing his arm, you take off running through the sand, leaving him to follow. You both grin as the sand flies around you, the warm wind brushing against your skin. When you reach the edge of the water, you stand at the edge for a second and let the water rush over your feet and ankles. You look up at Frankie with big and confused eyes. “The water is so warm,” you laugh, slightly confused as you wade a little deeper.

“It’s the Caribbean Sea, babe,” Frankie chuckles, walking backwards and holding your hands, leading you deeper into the water.

“I guess,” you chuckle as the warm water surrounds more and more of your legs. “I suppose I just- Frankie!”

Note to self: never turn your back on the ocean, you mentally conclude as a wave hits Frankie from behind and knocks him over, into the salty and sandy water. You laugh a little as he falls over with a large splash, squealing as the water sprays you. He comes up a moment later, shaking his head to get the water out of your eyes. “Come on in, it’s really warm,” he tells you with a laugh, spitting the salty sea water out of his mouth. It’s only about thigh deep now, and you look down at him and wade a little deeper. He swims out and you follow, grinning.

“Hey, Frankie,” you ask, when the water reaches your navel.

“Yeah, babe?” he asks, confused when you drop your hands.

“Catch me!” You squeal as you jump onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms catch you, but he purposely falls backwards until the both of you are under the crystal-clear water.

When you surface, you wipe your face. “That wasn’t what I meant by catch me,” you laugh, swimming over to your boyfriend, who’s surfaced in a shoulder-deep area.

“Doesn’t matter. Now you went all the way under,” he grins at you. “Now you’ve really swam in the ocean- swam? Swum?”

“Have been in,” you offer, laughing and wading over to him. You wrap your arms around his neck, then your legs, and his arms encircle your middle. “It doesn’t matter. I love you so fucking much, Frankie,” you tell him with a wide grin, looking over his shoulder at the waves further out.

“I love you too, baby,” he mumbles and kisses you. His lips taste like the salt water the two of you have been submerged in. His hands grip your hips as he wanders through the water, you hanging off of him like a koala.

You rest your face in his neck, admiring the scent of seawater and sunscreen and Frankie’s skin. Frankie starts singing a terrible version of the Piña Colada Song, making you laugh and press a loving kiss to the side of his face. “Is this your way of telling me you want to hit the bar?” You tease and squeeze him a little tighter.

“Maybe. You know I hate the flying part of getting here.” It’s ironic, you’ve always thought, but you suppose it makes sense that Frankie doesn’t really like airplanes. Helicopters are and always have been his forte, and it’s a feeling you understand: when he isn’t the one flying, he gets antsy. Things are out of his control, and he doesn’t like that. “I just need a strong drink and some lovin’ from you and I think I can finally relax.”

You grin and pull back, kissing him happily for a moment before pulling back and grinning. “Well, one part of that accomplished,” you grin. A realization hits you and you gasp. “Oh my god. You’re Fishie, and you’re in the ocean,” you laugh. “How did you ever get that name?” You ask, suddenly curious.

Frankie shakes his head, his hair starting to curl as it dries. The salty water makes it even wavier. “Doesn’t matter.”

You shrug and rest your head in his neck. You sigh and enjoy the feeling of Frankie’s arms and the warm water, the way a breeze rushes past and makes the back of your neck chilly from the drops of water resting there. Frankie mindlessly watches the other three men playing volleyball, wandering around the water with you. “Frankie?” You murmur into his skin.

“Yeah baby?”

“This has already been the best vacation ever, and it’s the first full day,” you tell him and remove yourself from his body, standing next to him in the water.

He grins and kisses you softly, wrapping an arm around your side to keep you close. “I fully agree.”

The two of you wander up to the shore a while later, plopping back down in your cabana. Will has gone to the bar and comes back with tropical drinks for each of you, which you hold in one hand and sip, your boyfriend’s hand in your other one.

A while later, Santi and Benny run back, covered in sweat from the heat and the game. “How about now, huh?” He asks you, flexing his arms, grinning.

You play into it, gasping and sitting up straight. “Oh, Santi,” you coo seductively, pouting. The face drops immediately. “Nope. Not working.” “Ah, should’ve figured. Anyone attracted to Fish would have weird preferences,” he shakes his head.

Frankie takes the alcohol-saturated lime from the rim of his drink and throws it at him, which makes a smack noise as it makes contact with Santiago’s chest. “Fuck off.”

“I will do no such thing,” Santi grins at him and plops down in the chair next to him. “My sole job here is to pester you two lovebirds and ruin your wonderful vacation.”

Benny, ever the prankster, sneaks up behind Santiago and pours a glass of ice water from the bar over his head. Santiago practically squeals at the sensation and Benny launches off into a run. Santiago follows. “You little shit! Just because you’re a fighter doesn’t mean I’ll kick your ass, Benjamin!”

The two of them occupied and Will up at the bathroom, you sigh as you roll over onto your stomach. “Frankie baby, will you sunscreen my back?” you ask him, propping yourself up on your arms.

“Sure thing,” he nods, sitting up and grabbing the bottle from your beach bag. He gets up and squirts some in his palms before working it into your lower legs, then your upper thighs. When he reaches your ass, he takes a few liberties in squeezing it. “That’s not how you put on sunscreen, flyboy,” you tease and giggle at the motions.

“Just got carried away,” he chuckles and works at your lower back, then your shoulders and arms. “There. All good.”

“Thanks, baby,” you coo and kiss him softly when he sits back down. “You want some too?” He nods, flopping onto his back. You repeat what he did, standing and working on his legs.

The further you get up his thighs, you can hear his breath hitch slightly, the wet swim trunks sticking tight to a hardening crotch. “Frankie,” you coo, working your hands up beneath the fabric.

“Sorry,” he winces, willing himself to force the growing erection down. Naturally, it doesn’t work.

You giggle softly, working some sunscreen into his stomach. “Don’t be. Pull up that shade, baby,” you tell him, referring to the shade that can completely cover the cabana when pulled up.

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles as you pull his swim trunks down just enough. “Guess I didn’t need that stupid pheromone sunscreen,” he murmurs hurriedly as the shade covers the both of you.

Beyond The Sea Masterlist

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic

#frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #benny miller #santiago pope garcia #william ironhead miller #william miller #will miller #will ironhead miller #santiago garcia

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missvifdor · 3 years

Text

(The continuation of this post where during a spell class a portal opened and the boys' female doubles as well as MC's appeared in the class) (I think I could make it an independent "story" for the adventures of my MC /OC /YUU)

My MC /OC /YUU and his double crossing the gaze in the class: * Double bi panic *

*Now we will have to find a solution to bring these young ladies and this gentleman back to their reality, but in the meantime here is the look of our twisted guys if they were girls*

Dorm leaders:

Riddle: Looks both serious and cute, with a round cheeky face and big eyes with long thick lashes as well as a pretty pixie haircut. Obviously she stays small but is always bigger than my MC OC YUU, her voice both soft and sharp, a very interesting contrast.

Leona: Made more of a woman than a young girl, still has magnificent hair, bewitching eyes and has a very toned and nicely muscular body. His voice is deep with that tone both seductive and bored. She knows perfectly well that she is beautiful, that she has charm and adores the handset with her immense intelligence. It's an absolutely formidable combo. She is the same height as her male double.

Azul: Gives that mafia-like aura (Or Sugar Mummy), with her hair styled in an impeccable bun and her tailor that is both professional and flatters her gorgeous figure perfectly. Her smile is both sweet and dangerous. But we all know that deep down she is a sweet girl who needs reassurance and who needs to realize how smart, hardworking, and beautiful she is (and we know any of us don't would stop proving it to her). She must be two or three centimeters shorter than her male double.

Kalim: She's still a sun ball and a full cinnamon roll! So positive and supportive! Tie up her long silver hair with a cute headband and always do her makeup in warm tones (where instead Jamil helps her with her makeup like that). Always wears tons of gold bracelets on her wrists and ankles, is very tactile, and has no problem cuddling the people she loves and appreciates! Is the kind of friend who makes sure you eat well and that you don't miss anything. (I can see her thinking that she and Jamil have more of a sister relationship than a master and servant relationship). Is exactly the same size as her male double.

Vil: Let's be honest here, Vil would be the most gorgeous woman who hasn't set foot at Night Raven College for decades after The Beautiful Queen! You almost feel like she's straight out of a fashion magazine but no, it's just that our Reine des Poisons takes so much care of her and works so hard to come to such potential! Her magnificent hair would reach her shoulders, her voice would be as beautiful as honey on a slice of bread and her makeup and manicure would be as perfect as it gets! Maybe she would be a little taller than her male double (even without heels). (I don't know why but apart from her care and makeup, I also see her very well making her own jewelry as well as her perfume).

Idia: Haired with two long, fiery quilts, she would be more the type to have an e-girl style but with very loose clothes that would not show her forms (the poor one does not realize that she has the potential to become a model for lingerie). Her voice would be both sweet and high-pitched, and she could also be smaller than her male double. (And Husbando, so many Husbando!). Doesn't trust her smile because of her sharp teeth but that is her charm and she is so fucking cute! Maybe she would be more organized and manic than her double even if her room would still be in a very big mess (at least she didn't leave her underwear lying around in plain sight, she would die of shame if anyone saw the cute and childish little designs on it).

Malleus: This woman ... Would be exactly the same size as her male double! And she would be so beautiful and elegant! With long black hair that she would let hang down her back, as well as her incredible figure! (Also gives those Magical Sugar Mummy vibes). His voice, by all the gods ... The most sensual and that playful note we've ever heard. Her voice is also so deep and sweet (let's not even talk about her laugh or I'll die of happiness). Still gives that awesome and intimidating impression on people but is so sweet when you get to know her (Always make that adorable pout when she's sad or upset, you feel like hugging her tight and telling her that even though she is scary in the early days, she's the sweetest person we've ever met!).

The Vice-leader:

Trey: Don't lie to each other, give these married vibes over and over again. But beware, also hides his game very well because in private ... 🥵. Her beautiful hair tied in a ponytail and her voice in playful tones. Would be the type to wear stockings with his uniform and is the same size as his male double. Smells like cake and vanilla, it's both so nice and it also makes you so hungry!

Ruggie: Is quite skinny because as we know Ruggie often endures difficult months. Short and messy hair, has a cheerful voice and an infectious laugh (Quite fond of pretty things in the background, but since she doesn't have much money, she can't really afford it. If she could, she would certainly treat herself to some pretty hair accessories). Perhaps an unacknowledged Tsundere side. Since she cannot feed herself properly for someone her age, she is most certainly smaller than the average for a Beast Woman. Would probably like to have a cuter look, unfortunately she can't afford it as she doesn't want to look "weak".

Jade: Holy shit, this woman is so dangerous and sweetly sadistic, if you ever pique her interest and she likes you on top of that, I'm sorry for you. Her body is certainly muscular and graceful (She also has quite incredible strength). Has long, wavy hair that she wears half-loose and is exactly the same height as her male double. Her voice and at the same time so soft and cold, you don't know if you should feel comfortable or on the contrary, run as far as possible. Obviously loves going for long hikes, (Her legs are so muscular, if she catches you with that, you won't be able to go anywhere). His tone is so teasing, you can't resist him for long.

Jamil: Very tall, even a few inches taller than her male double. Just like Trey, she smells so good, like cinnamon. Has a fairly athletic build, and remained a very, very good dancer. Very skillful, maybe makes her own wrist and ankle bracelets, also wears a lot of jewelry (not as expensive as Kalim's, but still very pretty and it shows her really well, especially the snake designs ), also wears a lot of ear piercings. His hair is very long, silky, and worn the same way as the male Jamil (maybe with extra pearls in his hair). Her voice is deep (sensual) and with a note of irony and sarcasm. Her make up apply lightly but always in such beautiful warm tones (she also highlights her cheekbones), especially with eyeliner to highlight her intense gaze.

Rook: His hair is worn in the same way as the male Rook, also wears a multitude of hats as well as pretty earrings. Likes to tease those around her, smiling and bright. Has a French accent, of course. But remains someone dangerous in the end. Is the same height as her double, is athletic, skillful and has excellent eyesight (Normal for a hunter). See beauty in everything and everyone! Don't you think you're handsome? Rook will give you ten points for why she thinks you are beautiful and why you should stop thinking that way because otherwise she will stalk you until you accept this truth. Her voice is happy and confident, deep and warm. May like to wear accessories like long socks with natural or animal designs. Specialized in throwing knives.

Ortho: So cute! The little sister you will want to protect at the risk of your life! So smart and friendly, curious too. Wears a cute fiery pixie hairstyle and has a cheerful, thin voice. Is so small and skinny.

Lilia: Oh boy ... see Draculaura from Monster Hight? She has the same look. So much into jokes, loves to surprise people to scare them. Her voice contrasts completely with her appearance since it is deep and velvety. Same size as her male double. Even though she looks so young, she still acts like a child mom. (Obviously, is always so bad in the kitchen, she brings out stuff, sometimes you are afraid that it will come to life to devour you). Despite her jokes, she is still very good advice and listens.

The rest of our boys:

Cater: If fashionable, is certainly a great influencer. Cater pays so much attention to everything, especially the little details and accessories that she wear. Makeup always on top and colorful, could become a model if she wanted. Is smaller than her male double. Joyful and higher pitched voice, her hair is a bundle of silky curls always worn in a cute way (Like Ariana Grande). (Has a multitude of fans and contenders) carefree and likes to give cute or silly nicknames to people she loves and appreciates. Would be the type to flirt with his friends for fun. Probably has a passion for nail art and would be so proud to show off her designs on her Magicam account! Would act with the first years like a big sister although she is not always good advice. She is so teasing.

Ace: Short, messy hair! Pretty tomboy style, enjoys teasing others too much for his own good, always smiling like shit and communicative. Is a sporty person, and quite arrogant, maybe also a little Tsundere side. Is a hopeless hideaway romantic. Even though she likes to do her makeup, she doesn't like taking fifteen years to do it and does the minimum required. Of course has a more feminine side when she's out of school, but honestly, feminine clothes are never practical for big movements. Act confidently but not too deep down. Her voice is happy and dynamic. Is one or two centimeters smaller than her male double. Likes to wear necklaces and chokers. Rather skinny but not as much as Ruggie.

Deuce: So sweet and so want to do her best to make her mom proud of her. Wearing long hair tied in a low ponytail, her voice is high-pitched and strong. Is quite tall (even taller than her male double). Read romance books on the sly but can't help herself when someone finds out. Probably already dyed his hair blonde during his delinquent period and dyed it before entering Night Raven College. Likes to wear barrettes in her hair, also does her best with her makeup but was not used to it before (it was mainly Ace who taught her everything she knows). Secretly loves wearing skirts and dresses, she hasn't been able to experience it before because she didn't think it would look pretty on her (But she's actually pretty). Certainly be shy and insecure when she finds new people, afraid of doing things badly. Blushes so easily that it is funny. When his delinquent side resurfaces, his voice becomes more serious, threatening, his posture leaves no room for shyness! She might want to change for the better, but that doesn't mean she's going to let others do if they want to bully her!

Jack: Do you see Jasper in the Steven Universe? You now have Jack as a woman. She is muscular and strong! The part she's most proud of is her muscular back! His silvery hair his savage and remained indomitable (But that gives him a crazy charm). Don't take shit from people and still is a Tsundere. But her wagging tail always betrayed her about her emotions, as well as her ears. Same size as her male double. Secretly loves cute things and certainly has an army of adorable stuffed animals in her room in Savanaclaw. Wears a biker style, and because she lives in a cold region with her family, she doesn't get cold easily, so her muscular arms are uncovered all the time (for your viewing pleasure 😏). Her voice is serious, so serious! But if you're friends, you definitely hear that thoughtful little note in her voice. If his male version is the Best Boy, his female version is the Best Girl! She takes care of those she loves and is always ready to help!

Floyd: Is exactly the same size as his male double. Wear her hair short cut in a boyish style (she doesn't have the time or the energy to dwell on her hair). Her voice has high notes, especially when she finds something or someone cute! Very expressive, has no filter. Like her sister, she is muscular and graceful. Her dress style could be similar to those of men in the 40's (she much prefers masculine clothes because it is more comfortable and she doesn't have to worry about her chest with large shirts. does not have to wear a bra!). Love accessories like earrings or piercings. Has immense strength and doesn't always control it. Dislikes makeup, she doesn't want to bother with it (but finds it charming on others, that's just her personal opinion). If its male version is not to be upset, it also works with its female version! Especially when it is at this time of the month, run away poor fools!

Epel: The same problem as with its male version! Except that instead of being manly, she wants us to find her sexy and not cute! All her life in her hometown has not to stop telling her that she was cute! Really ? Was she nothing else ?! She wants people she finds attractive to find her sexy, not cute! Just because she is petite, because she has big, innocent eyes and a round, youthful face, doesn't mean it's her definition of beauty or femininity! Much like her appearance, her voice is cute, slender. Her hair is long, wavy and held up with a red ribbon in an elegant manner. Compare to her male version, Vil lets her speak with her accent because it is one of her charm assets. Her face is decorated with delicate freckles. Is quite skinny with a tiny bit of shape but not a lot (let's say she has a lot more than Riddle). Epel is a little smaller than the male Epel, but not much.

Silver: She is the equivalent of Disney Princess Aurora. Except that, unlike, even if she falls asleep anywhere, she doesn't need a knight to protect her, she is her own knight! Remain a formidable swordsman! In spite of everything, remains someone calm and taciturn, very easygoing. She is very fond of animals and as they naturally flock to her, she is very happy about this fact. Wear her hair up to the shoulders and tie it in a ponytail for practice. She has a fairly toned body, but not too much. Her voice is soft and measured. She is much smaller than her male double.

Sebek: Acts hard but is so soft in the end. Looks pissed off all the time but that's just her natural expression. Wears her hair like her male version, and is the same size. Her voice carries so far, it's very impressive the first time you hear her! It is a bit sharp, but not in an unpleasant way. Carries so much esteem and respect towards Malleus, she would also like so much to be like her but she would never dare to compare herself to her! Blushes so hard and so quickly if you press the right buttons, it's so funny to see her get annoyed! Her figure is quite toned and sporty.

And finally, My MC /OC /YUU: Just like his female version, he wears round glasses, is always 150cm tall and has long wavy hair. Has fairly broad shoulders and is slightly muscular without really being so. Does everything possible to make girls feel comfortable and safe in his presence! He knows how exhausting the life and daily life of women is because of societal pressures and the male gaze. He knows that because of assholes, women are afraid of men and are afraid to even be in the same room as them, so he will do his best to ensure that she never feels that way around him! And if someone has the audacity to make one of them feel these feelings, oh boy ... that person won't last long! He was raised by his mother alone, and she taught him respect, consent and righteous values. He is an ally, so rest assured 😊😉. His voice is soft and serious (Also watching him get angry and argued in French is quite impressive! The sound of Rs in his mouth sounds even more aggressive).

#Twisted boys girl!au #Girls!au #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland imagine #twisted wonderland imagines #Disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #Twst #twst x reader #Twisted boys #Savanaclaw #Heatslabyul #octavinelle #Scarabia #pomefiore #Ignihyde #Diasomnia

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wolf-and-bard · 3 years

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The Geraskier Soccer Parents AU of my dreams (in an early morning strike of weird-brain):

-Geralt knows he isn't the best dad ever. He tries so goddamn hard, but his job is demanding and consumes so much time and even with Ciri being seven already, he still has essentially no clue what he's doing. He sometimes falls into bed, half-dead, and she is the one to give him a good-night kiss. He sometimes forgets she prefers cheese and puts ham on her sandwiches. He is sometimes too happy to have her sleep over at her friends rather than invite them to their house. He doesn't read her all the children's classics, doesn't go trick-or-treating with her, doesn't even pretend Santa Claus is a thing. He isn't the best dad ever. He tries.

-There is one thing he never, ever fails to do and that is take Ciri to soccer practice. Ciri picks up and drops hobbies, interests, even tastes by the week, still unsure what she wants to pursue, but soccer isn't only her favourite pastime, it's theirs. Practice is twice a week and they have a ritual for it. Geralt picks her up from school and drives her there, she tells him about what the dumb boys in her class said, how her art project is going etc. Geralt is there throughout practice, tucked in between Foltest - a guy who is constantly worried for his daughter Adda to get hurt and also very much anxious for her to do well - and Tissaia - a woman who has not one, but three girls in Ciri's age group and several more in others, and knits like a magician - and watches. He takes notes, silently cheers for Ciri.

-After their games and while Ciri changes, Geralt chats with her coach Vesemir - who used to be Geralt's coach, but now prefers to train the girls' teams - about the progress of the team, upcoming tournaments etc. Sometimes when Vesemir is indisposed, Geralt even leads the practice. When Ciri is all done, Tissaia usually has another hat or mitten finished and Geralt and her drive with their girls to whatever food place the girls are in the mood for. They have an early dinner in which Tissaia lectures the girls on their form and in which Ciri is sometimes allowed to sit on Geralt's lap - but only if Fringilla or Yen don't tease hear about it - but in which she definitely gets to steal his milkshake (Geralt hates milkshakes). Geralt only praises her when they're back in the car and Ciri tells him he's too much of a softie with her and should be more like Tissaia. Should maybe marry Tissaia. They both laugh because that is never going to happen.

-Life is good that way. It's not perfect, it's not without bumps, certainly not without tears and scrapes, but whatever the job, whatever injury Geralt carries with him, however long he has to drive, he never, never ever misses soccer practice.

-The season's just kicked off in the year of Ciri's eighth birthday when Geralt and her arrive early on the field to find the stands empty save for a girl in the most ridiculously colorful excercise clothes and blond hair that is braided intricately around her head. With her is a man, maybe five years Geralt's junior. Ciri bolts towards them with a bright grin and Geralt is hesitant to follow. He knows neither the girl nor the man, but from what he can gather she wants to join the team which is just what they need as they're one girl short this season. "Hi, I'm Ciri, I adore your braids." Geralt holds back on the eye-roll. It's nice Ciri can make friends this easily, but his house already is a shrine for role-playing and board games, dolls and random DVDs and another friend means more things Ciri will want to try out. "Thank you," the girl replies and tilts her head to better show them off. "My uncle Jaskier braided them for me, I'm sure he can do yours too." Both girls look up expectantly at the man and Geralt only really notices him then. He is averagely built with bright blue eyes and an even brighter smile. His floral print shirt has three open buttons and his pants barely reach his ankles. He has the look of a flippant music teacher or a hipster coffeeshop owner. His eyes meets Geralt's and, wait, did he just wink? "I'd love to, dear," he says in a smooth voice that absolutely does not go straight to Geralt's guts. Geralt turns on the spot and decides to pressure check the balls, but he can hear the others giggling as Jaskier braids Ciri's hair. "I'm Priscilla by the way. What's up with your dad?" - "Oh, don't mind him, he's bad with meeting new people." - "Very intense." That's Jaskier. Oh, Geralt will show him intense.

-Ciri invites them to their after-practice dinner. Geralt wants to begrudge her that, but she and Priscilla have latched onto each other in record speed and Jaskier actually fights Tissaia on some of her more strict stances and he braids Yen's and Sabrina's hair too, only Fringilla doesn't want him to touch hers which he respects. Geralt and Tissaia glance at each other. Come to a silent agreement. They may not befriend Jaskier, but he's sunny and so good with the girls and they can use someone like him among their ranks, someone who doesn't have Calanthe's tendency for swear words or Crach's tendency to break out beer in the middle of practice or even Nenneke's tendency to relate everything to the workings of god.

-Jaskier is as faithful as Geralt, perhaps the only one who shows up every time without fail. Shani's parents only drop her off and Crach switches between Cerys' and Hjalmar's practices and Tissaia sometimes texts Geralt to pick up her girls. Jaskier is there, every time, earlier than any of the others. He chats with Vesemir about his day-to-day, brings home-baked cookies for everyone, he cheers and whoops and tries very hard to understand soccer even though it's evident he doesn't. Geralt never wonders why it's him and not Priscilla's parents that come, it's none of his business. He begins to tolerate Jaskier, but he knows that is where he has to draw the line. He has his hands full with Ciri and his job and his brothers too. He can't afford friendships that extend beyond the field.

-Jaskier doesn't let him off though. He always takes the spot next to Geralt (technically an improvement over Foltest's sweaty visage) and prattles on and on, at least until the game begins. When it does, Jaskier divides his attention between the girls and the stack of paper on his lap which he annotates during practice. It's often either sheet music or the illegible scrawl of pre-teens or wonkily drawn instruments. Jaskier already told him, but from that too it is obvious that Geralt's hunch was right, he is a music teacher. Geralt finds his eyes darting to Jaskier's long fingers, nimble and calloused from the various string instruments he plays. Finds himself glancing at where Jaskier's tongue peeks out in concentration. He listens to the man's ramblings and hums his replies and comes to dislike the days when Vesemir isn't there and he has to focus all his attention on giving the girls a good practice. Not that he doesn't want to, it's just that having Jaskier at his back unnerves him.

-(Jaskier for his part doesn’t care at all about soccer, but he cares about Priscilla so he convinced her parents to let him take her; after that, she said it would be fine if he dropped her off and picked her up again, but Jaskier pretends he is super invested in the sport and the team and he is, but mostly he’s invested in charming Geralt)

-After an entire season of mutual pining and obliviousness, Tissaia decides she's had enough and rallies the other parents. She has Foltest organize a big party at his country house, has Nenneke promise to look after the girls (the woman doesn't drink) and has Crach whip out the finest spirits he has in storage. Calanthe makes a phenomenal playlist and it's Tissaia's job to get Geralt to the party (Jaskier's not a problem) and dress up nicely. Only Aridea, Renfri's stepmother, refuses to pitch in, but she's been a bitch anyway.

-When Geralt picks up Jaskier at his downtown flat he has to grip the wheel of his rover hard in order not to short-circuit. Jaskier has done something to his hair that Geralt can't name but that makes him go woozy inside. He wears a plain shirt that compliments his eyes and hugs his body just right and he looks high on life with color in his cheeks and the most dazzling smile. He's gorgeous. "Darling, don't you look dashing," Jaskier says excitedly and props his feet up on the dashboard, only after kissing Geralt on the cheek. Which is not fair. "Likewise," Geralt mutters, then blushes furiously. He didn't want that to come out, oh no. Jaskier either didn't hear or acts like it and they drive in silence to Foltest's country house. Well, aside from the songs Jaskier hums under his breath, some new composition no doubt.

-At first, Geralt thinks it's a nice enough party for someone who doesn't like parties. Foltest's grilling burgers, they all have cocktails, the music is mellow. Not that that stops Jaskier from swirling an already quite drunk Calanthe over the terrace in dazzling moves. Geralt wants to be swirled like that. "You really have it bad, don't you?" Crach comments when he notices Geralt staring. Geralt downs his beer (he's no cocktail drinker) and tries pointedly not to stare at how Jaskier's swinging his ass around.

-The buzz makes it easier and he relieves Foltest at the barbecue for a bit. But then Jaskier walks up to him, a little short on breath and grinning his most flirtatious little grin. It gives him fucking dimples. Sigh. "Hey you big strong man," Jaskier says. He smells like pineapple and coconut, but isn't even a little drunk. "Jask," he says, pointedly flipping a burger. "Foltest says he has an old karaoke machine in the shed, but it's too heavy for me. Help me?" - "...fine." Geralt gestures for Foltest to keep up with the meat and he and Jaskier make their way along a garden path that winds through thickets and by a small pond. The shed is painted blue and white and Geralt and Jaskier find it very much cluttered, but not dirty which is nice. Geralt only understands it's a trap when it's already sprung on them. The tiny click of the look is almost inaudible over Jaskier's anxious commentary of their search for the machine. There is only one small window and no light Geralt can see. Fuck.

-"Ehm, Jaskier?" he reaches out and gently touches Jaskier's shoulder which has the other man yelp and jump. Which doesn't bode well for what Geralt has to tell him. "I think we're trapped." The effect is immediate. Jaskier goes rigid, his breath catches. Is he afraid? Claustrophobic perhaps? Shit, so he can't be in on the joke. "Jask?" - "Geralt. I know we aren't the closest, but I need you to hold me right now." And he launches himself at Geralt. Maybe he is in on the joke? No, he's trembling too hard for that. Geralt catches him and does as asked. "I am absolutely going to die," Jaskier whines into Geralt's neck and Geralt can't help a small chuckle as he rubs Jaskier's back soothingly. This is... surprisingly nice for a trap. Also likely Tissaia's doing. Geralt has a rare idea. "What if I distract you until someone finds us?" he murmurs against Jaskier's hair and Jaskier draws back a little. In the half-dark his eyes glisten, widen when they meet Geralt's. "You would?" - "Close your eyes, Jaskier." Geralt feels a surge of daring, perhaps granted by the intimacy and seclusion of the situation. He catches Jaskier's lips with his own. When they part, Jaskier grins, shaking from something other than fear. "I thought you didn’t much like me," he whispers. "I thought I got on your nerves." - "Idiot." They kiss again and, faintly, Geralt can hear someone cheer from outside.

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deathleadsarc · 2 years

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S𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

1. What does your muse smell like?

Qistina smells like death to the sensitive nose, a bit of blood if it’s a few hours after her days’ work, along with an overwhelming cover of lavender. She prefers the smell, but knows that others who have worked with death for an extended period of time would also be able to pick out that smell from anything.

2. What do your muse’s hands feel like?

As they are not her original hands as she created them for herself, they do feel strange in comparison to the rest of her body. Fragrant in scent, soft as the rest of her body, but slightly different in texture.

3. What does your muse usually eat in a day?

She eats quite low-calorie meals throughout the day with a bigger meal in the evening. Warm and fluffy biscuits with sweet jams on top, citrus-y teas to really perk her up before the day begins, and savory fruits in the morning with coffee and small finger sandwiches in the afternoon. At night, she'll have thick cuts of meat and steamed vegetables with some wine. She's a fine woman with fine tastes ~

4. Does your muse have a good singing voice?

It's a generous soulful warmth, deeply golden with a soothing quality that could calm anyone who happens to tune in to that rare occasion you catch her singing. [ Her modern speaking voice and singing voice here! Incidentally, Belle is a piece of inspiration for Qistina's character! ]

5. Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks?

:) Her worst habit is allowing herself to be as wicked and evil as possible in her day to day life, letting her humanity take a backseat to her more selfish desire for experimentation and her journey through alchemy. For her research, for the future of what she's doing in the alchemical medicinal field. It's for a ' good cause ', but she is not going that far for the good of mankind. She's doing it for herself. It's more than a bad habit.

6. What does your muse usually look like / wear?

I often describe her attire as ' regal ' and I stand by that. She wears large and extravagant hats that match her day-dresses, expensive jewelry with magnificent opals, hair carefully pinned back or beautifully designed with braids, slight curls, or elegant plaits. For the day-dresses, underneath it's your expensively sewn edwardian ' underwear ' with chemise and corset with stockings and pins, while overtop is in cotton or silk. Hand-sewn, lace accents and soft. Her clothing always covers her neck to ankle, with laced-up leather ankle boots. Surprisingly large compared to other Amestrian women, so she has to buy one size and transmute it to its proper size when she returns home ( or she has Alessandra do so for her )

7. Is your muse affectionate? How much? How so?

Very much so. Like a cat, she'll mewl at you for attention, sit directly on you or your desk, and just generally show you lots of love and affection. It's difficult to handle her at times, because once she gets comfortable with someone then that affection will have a hard time lowering to a reasonable level. I wouldn't call it overbearing, but it does require the other person to establish boundaries if they feel it's too much.

8. What position does your muse sleep in?

Because she has such long, thick hair she's gotten used to braiding it over her shoulder. Because of this habit, she tends to sleep on her back with her hair over her shoulder. This kind of position helps with her back pains from overworking while wearing her corset, annnnnd she looks like a captivating Sleeping Beauty.

9. Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

This one was kind of tricky to think about, because in her lab and even in her home she does not care about what kind of noise she's making. She'll walk through doors without closing them, letting them slam behind her. Set things down without much care of how loud it will be, and even announce her presence when nearing a room ( or having other soldiers do so for her ). In her workspace at Central HQ, she's Big Boss. Boss Bitch. What she says goes 100%, no questions asked. If she's being loud and you don't like it well that's too damn bad, isn't it?

On the otherhand, she knows how to be quiet when she doesn't want to be noticed. Sometimes she can even slink up behind people and frighten them into getting back to work lmao.

taken from: @alvcrd <3

#🜎 | a witch need not fear the darkness | for she is darker | MUSE #Dash Games #🜎 Patiently Waiting | QUEUED PROGRESS

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gotnofucks · 3 years

Note

What do you think Lee or other Seb and Chris characters would be like with a tall, slim and very uncurvy woman? Like only a couple of inches shorter than them, and she never feels feminine enough or sexy enough for them?

We'll start this by establishing that every person is pretty regardless of their body type. Tall, short, chubby or skinny, different complexion and smooth or furry.

As a short girl, this is for my tall skinny sisters who have a difficult time loving themselves:

Warning: sometimes dark themes, allusions to smut, possessiveness, body image issues, breeding kink, 18+ ONLY

+++++

Steve Rogers: The Avengers Charity ball was a big event and though Steve hated the public attention, he's excited to do this with you. You've been dating a few months and coming out in public was something Steve was looking forward to.

He had decorated your neck with marks to show the world who you belonged to. The territorial captain was itching to claim you in front of the world when you told him you'd rather not go.

"What?" He asked, "Why not?"

You bit your lip, shifting on your feet as you looked at him.

"It's nothing...just don't feel like it" You mumbled.

"Is it because we're going to fast? You don't wanna tell the world about us?" Steve asked and you frantically shook your head.

"No, Stevie." You took a deep breath. "It's just...you're Captain America. The people expect you to be with a womanly woman, someone who complements you. I am...me. Tall, not large enough boobs, my ass is skinny and -"

You would have went on had Steve not pulled you in by your waist and crushed your mouth to his. You kissed back, running your hand through his soft hair before he pulled back, panting.

"Are you kidding me? You're listing everything I love about you. I don't have to bend down to kiss you, you breasts feel perfect in my hands and that ass? Baby, that ass is so perfect if people knew the thoughts I get when I see it, they'll douse me with holy water. Captain America doesn't need a womanly woman to compliment him. You’re not my arm candy, I am yours because you’re the perfect one. You get me?"

Choked up with tears you nod, letting him tuck your head in his neck.

Bucky Barnes: He's been looking at you for weeks, just the way you've been looking at him. During training, he makes sure to stay behind you, correcting your posture by putting his hands on you.

For someone who'd lived more than a century, Bucky Barnes had no patience anymore and he promptly sat down his ass in front of you, making you stop mid-chew.

"Why haven't you asked me out on a date yet?" He asked you, the red Henley he wore stretching across his broad chest. You swallowed quickly, sputtering.

"Sargent?" You squeaked, unprepared to be accosted like this.

"I want you, you want me. We've practically been eye fucking each other for months. Why haven't you asked me out yet?" He snapped.

You bite your lip before wetting them with your tongue, unsure how to say this.

"You...you don't wanna go out with some other agent? Maybe Shally?" You asked and winced when he scowled at you. "I'm only saying this 'cause she has you know, a better body. She's...prettier?"

In this moment you realised how scared Bucky's enemies may feel on the battlefield because the expression on his face had you terrified. And turned on.

"You fucking with me doll? I don't want her. I love your body. You're almost my height, think of how easy 69-ing would be! You're perfect in every way. The way you kick those men's asses in the gym...fuck I always need a cold shower after that."

Your mouth dropped open and a small smile lit your face.

"So, you don't mind me being strong and lean and not... feminine?" You asked tentatively and Bucky smirked.

"Come into the bedroom with me and I'll show you how feminine you can be" He challenged.

Really, who were you to say no to him.

Ransom Drysdale: Heels. He got you fucking 6-inch heels. You were nearly his height, already being taunted by your friends for this. And he got you heels.

"Ransom, take them back. You know I don't do heels." You say and he scoffs, pushing them back at you.

"Like shit you don't do them. I want to see you in them, and wear that lingerie I got you." He orders and you frown.

"No Ransom, I just - I don't like them." You said and he turned away from his phone to raise an eyebrow at you.

"I've seen you eyeing that flimsy scarp of fabric for weeks in the mall. You like it, now wear it for me so I can admire it on you." He said.

You finger the delicate material of the bra and panty and wondered how amazing it would feel against your skin. But then you looked at the small size and squeezed your eyes shut. There was a reason you insisted Ransom turn off the lights when you fucked.

"I like them. Just...not on me" You whispered. A finger pulled your chin up and you met Ransom's blue eyes, his gorgeous face peering into you like you were the dumbest person he knew.

"The fuck?" He asked, a warning growl in his tone that had you rubbing your legs.

"Ransom...I'm...not made for these. These heels, I'll be taller than you. I don't have the body to make this gorgeous lingerie come to life. You...I don't want you to see me like that." You say, almost tearing up.

Ransom looked livid for a moment before he gently stood you up, shushing your protests as he one by one stripped you naked. You looked down, ashamed of yourself as he forced you into the tall heels, his head now below yours.

"Look at me" He rasped and you obeyed. His eyes went from your head to down, appreciatively over your breasts and flat stomach and then to the vee between your thighs.

"You're perfect." He said, head dipping only a little to suck a nipple in his mouth. "Perfect figure, perfect face, perfect height. You're the only perfect thing I have in my fucked up life."

You put your hands on his shoulder to stable your wobbling feet, and he held you close.

"Wear this lingerie. I want to tear it off your body with my teeth. And the lights stay on today."

Lee Bodecker: You pushed down on your skirt again, hiding your thin legs the best you could. The demure and pretty girls in the neighborhood snickered as you passed by them, their necklines supporting a beautiful cleavage.

You walked into your home and quickly got to making the dinner. While you didn't look like a normal lady, you were one. You could cook and clean and your daddy hoped that would be enough to get you married and off his hands.

You got dressed for you knew there would be guests tonight and tied your apron around your narrow waist, serving the food on the table for your father and the Sheriff. He came in his uniform, the hat set down on the table and eyes that followed you.

It was no surprise when he cornered you later after your father was drunk and passed out. His hardness dug into you, sweet breath on your face and nose rubbing against yours.

"Where you been all day sweetheart?" He asked, hands groping you like they'd done a thousand times before. You whimpered, tilting your head to allow him access to your neck.

"Shopping for the dinner. Daddy doesn't like stale food." You say and Lee bites you.

"What've I told you about calling him daddy in front of me? I'm the only daddy ya need." He scolded. You waited for his kiss, lips puckered when he stilled. His hands were on your breasts and he paused, reaching inside despite your protests to pull out the rolled up cloth inside.

"What the fuck is this?" He angrily asked and you hid your face in embarrassment. You were tired of having small breasts, tired of not being as pretty as others.

"Just..I wanted more meat on me." You said sullenly and Lee twisted his face in a scowl, pulling you forward with your hair.

"You're not doing this shit again. You want big fucking breasts then ask me to put a baby in you and I will. You want more meat on your body then I'll fuck a child in you right now. You get me?" He snarled and you nodded, clinging to him.

"I...I am sorry. I wanted to be pretty for you." You sob and Lee pulls you closer, taking your hands and pressing them in his belly.

"Sweetheart, you are fuckin' gorgeous. My pretty girl. Daddy's best girl. You don't need more meat. I already got enough for both of us. Kay?" He asked and kissed you deep.

Andy Barber: You hid your insecurities well. Andy didn't give you a reason to have many. He loved you, you knew that. But sometimes, you wondered if he'd have preferred a more bountiful booty to hold at night.

When you tried to eat a little extra than your stomach permitted and puked the next day, he sat you down and asked point blank what was wrong. It was difficult to lie to him, not only because he was a great lawyer but because Andy knew you too well to not know when you're hiding something.

"I wanted to gain some weight I suppose." You said. Andy titled his head, eyes going over your body before he frowned.

"But you're perfect" He said, as if confused. "You can't overeat baby. Talk to me, what's wrong?"

You bit your lip. Dating Andy was daunting. He was someone who had lines of woman waiting to warm his bed. You were surprised when he asked you out, you of all the other softer women. You, your flat figure of the other hourglass ones.

He was an alpha, he was the master. He would have looked so good next to a timid, tiny girl who would easily fold into his body for warmth. And yet, here he was with you.

"I have long legs" You blurted and didn't look at him. "I am taller than almost all women here, I don't have a plump ass you can bounce quarters off and definitely not a chest that is spilling out. I don't know Andy, I...I am not enough I guess."

You wanted to cry after admitting this and maybe you would have had Andy not knelt before you and cupped your face to kiss you deeply.

"Oh honey, you silly thing. You're more than enough. Absolutely stunning." He whispered. He trailed his hands up from your ankle to your thighs and you stifled a moan.

"Your legs are long, and I love them. So much length to run my tongue on" He continued. "You ass may not bounce quarters, but it bounces my balls well when I'm fucking your from behind. And your breasts better not be spilling anywhere, they are mine. The only thing they need to spill is either my seed or the milk that'll be in there after I breed you. You understand?"

Heat rose up from your chest to your neck and ears, eyes watering with love and desire. You put your long legs on Andy's shoulder and hugged him with your thighs, asking him softly to show you his praises again.

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #lee bodecker x reader #andy barber x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #ransom x reader #lee x reader #andy x reader #steve Rogers #bucky barnes #ransom drysdale #lee bodecker #hoedecker club #andy barber

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vore-scientist · 3 years

Text

Return of the Dragon King pt 1: Prison Break

[A non-sexual high fantasy GT/vore story with both hard/fatal+ other fantasy violence and safe/soft]

This story is a prose adaptation of an RP between @vixen525 and I. It takes place in one of her worlds and features mostly her characters.

Summary/Pitch: Separated from Sophia by the evil (and illegitimate) Prince Nero, Yonah must rescue his princess from Nero's devious clutches. With a collection of quirky fantasy characters as allies, Yonah aims to bring an end to Nero's reign and return the rightful heir to the throne.

But before that, he must escape from one of Nero’s prisons.

Story General Warnings: Return of the Dragon King overall will contain hard/fatal vore (in an intense fantasy violence style) along with soft/safe (the good stuff). Themes of abuse and torture as well. (There may be one instance of soft fatal that if I ever get that far I’ll warn for that specifically but it’s so far off from this it may never get written down)

Chapter Specific Warnings: This chapter contains all the story general warnings. This is NOT the chapter with soft/fatal. It’s hard only. It very much treads the line between hard vore and just standard fantasy violence. This part contains a very brief mention of attempted (and failed) sexual assault.

Onto the story:

----

For the 20th night in a row Yonah was replaying the moment in his mind, and like the 19 times before, this time was slightly worse than before.

It started with merriment, feasting, dancing, joking. Then transitioned to screaming, to blood, to Sophia being dragged away and him unable to stop it. And finally ended with waking up here, on a hard stone floor, in a room with no windows, with cold metal around his ankles and a chain attached to a back corner. With a terrible pounding in his head and an indescribable weight upon his core.

While he wondered why it had happened. Why this diplomatic mission to another world had been under false pretenses, however it wasn’t really worth dwelling on. He wasn't going to get answers here. All that he knew was he had failed. He had failed to protect Sophia. His charge. His friend. His princess. She was taken and he had let it happen!

After his 5th day in the prison cell he had given up trying to escape. Whatever that pressure was, pushing on his core, it stopped his magic. He had woken up without his robe, staff, and hat. For a normal wizard that would be a problem, but Yonah HaEsh was half FireWitch in addition to half giant. He had his own natural magic! Surely he could melt the cuffs and bars.

Nope. He could see the air shimmer with heat around his hands. He was generating magic, but it seemed to be… negated as soon as he tried to release it. All it succeeded in doing was make him tired. And hungry.

He was so hungry. The prison guards were giving him just enough food and water to stay alive for reasons that were beyond him. So he spent most of his time laying on the floor. Conserving his energy. For what purpose? For what event? None at all. He just hoped. And cried. Or at least tried to. His tears had long since dried up.

The screech of the prison bars sliding open grated upon his ears and he drew a harsh breath but did not give the guards the satisfaction of interacting with him. He had tried to rush at them a few times, just to have a little fun. But the chains weren’t long enough to let him reach the bars. All his antics got him was humiliation.

“Oy! Halfbreed Thing, you’re in luck,” came the voice of a nameless guard, “the warden decided to give you a treat tonight!”

Yonah didn’t respond. It was clearly sarcasm.

“He also said if you don’t eat up, you get nothing for a week!” And the door was closed again.

He still did not look. He had decided he wasn’t going to even touch what they had assumedly given him. It was probably poisoned, or drugged. Or both. He drew another breath.

That smell.

He finally looked. His heart racing. They wouldn’t… would they?

Standing with her back against the bars was a young woman with straight black hair, wearing a similar tattered outfit as himself. She must have been cold, and scared, but she was not shaking. Instead she stared right into his eyes. The fear in them was evident.

Now that his ears were no longer ringing he could hear her breathing. She was trying to calm down.

Apparently she succeeded. As she talked first.

"So... I guess they put you in here because you use magic too?" her voice was weak, and her accent thick upon his ears but he understood her well enough.

Yonah did not respond right away. Carefully he sat up, leaning against the back wall where his chains were connected, rattling them as they piled up.

“Well they certainly didn’t throw you in here so you could be my pet.” he snorted steam with his words, happy he could still do that much, and pleased him to see her concern at this display. So perhaps he could have some fun, even as her scent started to permeate his cell, leading his thoughts in another direction.

“No…” she answered, not moving any closer. “I doubt they’ve been feeding you well. I suspect they threw me in here in hope that you’d eat me.”

Yeah no shit. Had she heard the guard? Or was she too scared to listen. He had listened, even if he pretended otherwise.

“Being tossed a person to eat. How barbaric. Do they think I am some sort of feral animal?” His voice was hoarse with dehydration, and conflict. For he was considering eating her. Yonah HaEsh, despite being half giant, was not above eating smallfolk, if necessary. And she certainly smelled…delectable.

She shook her head “Many giants wouldn't hesitate if hungry enough… They may be normally polite to smaller folk but when half starved? All bets are off”

Yonah nodded, “I suppose so… Though I am only half giant.” He couldn't do more than suppose, as he did not know anything about giants of this world, though he remembered seeing one at Prince Nero’s castle. A little less than twice as tall as his own mother, and his mother was over 40ft tall! What he did know was that giants in his world would be tempted just like him, and while they were also normally polite… ish… their own survival was more important than the life of someone they did not know.

So why was he holding back? Well for one thing, she was out of reach. For another… He did not like the idea of being fed a person, it was insulting. The idea was nearly offensive enough to scare his hunger away. Nearly.

“Why you?” he hissed. Trying to chase away the remaining offensive thoughts. The mental images of grabbing her, sinking his fangs into her soft tasty flesh, and using his jaws and hands to rip her apart. The thoughts of how delicious it would be to finally satiate his hunger properly for the first time in weeks.

It took her a long minute to answer “I… keep escaping. I got out the door this time, nearly made it to the outer wall.”

“Ohhhh, curious” he breathed out, glad his ‘treat’ turned out to be interesting enough to distract his thoughts with. “You do not look like an escape artist. Or are you of hidden talents?”

She shook her head “The magic they use to… nullify the magic of others… doesn’t work on me. And my own magic doesnt like that im captive and kept… helping me escape”

Ohhhhh fascinating. He did not say out loud this time. “Sounds like you are a handful. Though perhaps you are rather, a mouthful. Or two in my case.” he smiled with all his fangs.

She swallowed nervously “Y-yes”

“Why don’t they just kill you? Are you important?”

She shook her head again “They are waiting for the execution order. That’s… why I’m here.”

“What do you mean by that?”

She took a breath. “If another prisoner kills me… they don’t lose their capital funding for executing a prisoner without the proper paperwork…”

“That’s where I come in” and he snarled “I don’t like being used as a tool. And I don't really want to eat you”

She nodded “That’s… good”

“But I am hungry.”

“Oh…”

“Why are you in this prison?”

She looked away. “I… killed someone. With magic.”

More fascinating by the second. “Why, would you do that.”

It was an obvious struggle for her to answer “It wasn’t… it wasn’t intentional. He pinned me up against a wall and started tearing off my clothes. My magic just... reacted. The next thing I knew he was dead”

Yonah snorted again “Should have been intentional!”

“I haven't had any formal training! My magic just happens!”

“Shame” he sighed. “Do you know why I am here?” he asked, changing the subject.

“You’re… a mage. A rogue one. Like I am.”

That was new to him, “A rogue mage?”

“Practicing magic is highly regulated, don’t you know?”

“No.” Yonah saw that made her very confused “I am not of this world”

She seemed to accept this easily. This world seemed to be more comfortable with the idea of other worlds than his own, which had only started to make contact with new realities. He had also decided she didnt need to know his story yet. For he had not made up his mind on keeping her alive, or eating her. If he ate her, then it would have been a waste of breath to tell his own tale of woe.

He tugged on his chains to pile them up and keep them from getting tangled. And for the next few minutes he occupied himself with this task.

“They stop-”

Yonah looked at her so fast his neck cricked. She started again.

“They stopped using shackles on me because the chains kept breaking. Perhaps I could” she took a single step forward, and seeing that Yonah did not react, took another. “I’m sure you would appreciate more freedom of movement.” She took another step.

“Well not all of us are so damn talented now are we?!” he growled. She took two steps back.

“Im trying to help you! Maybe I can figure out how to get it to work on you too!”

“A self proclaimed untrained mage!” he spat “and why would you help a monster like me?”

For as much as he wanted to be civil, he was also a monster. And as much as he tried to fight the temptation to be monstrous, he did not know if he could succeed.

“It wasn’t being a monster that got you in trouble! It was magic.”

She sounded very sure of that.

Yonah snorted “That is your own assumption”, and turned around to lay his head on the chains, facing the corner.

After a few minutes he heard her soft footsteps, and he craned his neck to look. She had gotten a lot closer than he expected and was reaching for his chains. She was clearly in the mood to help him. Unfortunately he was in a mood to play with his would be treat instead, and he did not have any confidence that she could help, so why not have fun.

“Are you sure that’s wise little morsel?” he sighed with a fanged smile.

Amazingly she did not back up but touched chains by his ankles.

“No. But sooner or later they will get the execution order signed. So my odds of survival are shit. But they are better if I free you.”

Yonah made his eyes glow with what fire he had left “Are they better? You said you were untrained.”

She looked embarrassed, “I’m hoping I can practice on these chains of yours. My magic does disable the nullification. We can work together to get out.”

“Untested magic is dangerous” yonah growled “Maybe I should just eat you!” he snapped his teeth.

Still she did not leave. Instead she stood up and glared at him “So what? I die and you survive another week until the next council meeting and your execution is approved?”

Yonah narrowed his eyes “Maybe I dont care about that anymore.” but he does not move either. “You dont know why im truly here. Maybe I deserve this!”

His fiery eyes still on hers, she retaliated “I dont care if you do! I need to get free, and I cant on my own. You want to be free to dont you? If I can use my magic, I can break these chains, disable the anti-magic on this room, save us both!”

Yonah rolled his eyes, losing their staring contest. He did not stop her from continuing her investigations of the chains. But his mind wandered, until he exclaimed.

“Maybe you’re a plant! Instead of using me to kill you, you’re here to kill me!” he jerked the chains away from her.

“I’m unarmed!” she insisted and scrambled forwards to maintain contact with the metal.

“You said they cannot chain you, that their anti-magic shit doesnt work on you, so yours does work, and it’s killed someone before!” He knew that this new panic was not helping him in the slightest, and yet he did not care.

“Most of my magic isn’t working! I just somehow break chains and disable the magic nullification! I don’t know how it works or how to activate it! But the fact I can means they want me dead so they stop having to catch me! And magic isn’t allowed and I definitely don’t have the indicator that I have special permission, those are super obvious.”

Yonah blinked “Could be lies! You could be spitting lies! Permission to use magic. How ridiculous”

“Everyone knows that the few legal mages have face tattoos to make them obvious”

Yonah breathed steam again and finally she backed away from the painful heat. “I dont! I don’t know anything about this world! You could say anything and I wouldn’t know if it was truth or lies!”

“Oh… right” she looked at her feet “You aren't from this world. That must suck as much as my own problems with my memory…”

She rambled a little more about how she was definitely a prisoner, it was obvious from her malnutrition, and that despite not being able to be kept in chains she had marks on her wrists and ankles from the failed attempts.

But Yonah was not listening anymore. Once again he turned away and was trying to cry himself to sleep.

So she took the opportunity to touch the chains near his ankles again.

“Careful now!” he hissed without looking at her. “You don’t want to get burned” Hearing her yelp as she touched the chains, which he had put his mind to pumping his fire into. Maybe he couldn’t melt them, but he could make them painful to touch.

He heard her curse, and then the chains rustled again as she grit her teeth and grasped the half giant sized links, whining in pain and holding back tears. 3 seconds were all she could manage before she had to stumble back, sitting on the ground and blowing on her burnt hands.

Yonah sat up and looked at the chains. He did not let his face show any surprise as he found rust and cracks that had not been there before.

“Wow. It didnt work. Big fucking surprise, some help you were, but I guess you were telling the truth about being being put here for me to eat.” he lay back down. “Maybe I’ll do that in the morning.”

Suddenly the pain in her hands was not as important as what the half giant had said.

“It started to work! But I couldnt hold on long enough!” she wailed, “I tried! I really tried, to help you’re sorry ass!”

“And you FAILED” he snorted back.

“Only temporarily!” she insisted

“And look where it got me. Nowhere. I’m going to sleep”

“If the chains were just a little cooler! Then maybe-”

“I told you to be careful. You have only yourself to blame for your failures and your injuries” he stated, fully aware it was his fault. And that he was sabotaging himself. And yet he couldn't stop himself.

“I was trying to help you. You don’t have to be so rude. We are stuck in the same situation and I am trying to make a difference.”

“I dont have to be polite either. Now you’re the one being rude, keeping me awake”

She crossed her arms in defiance of her own fear “You’re kind of an asshole. I thought maybe we could work together to escape but apparently you’d rather stay and be executed.” She stood up, glancing at her hands, “Guess I’ll just try to figure out how to disable the nullification and escape without you if you really are that opposed to working together.” She turned and walked back to the cell bars before sitting down again.

Yonah looked away, no longer amused by her company, for he was too tired, and too hungry, too angry. Mostly at himself for heating up the chains.

Of course, he couldn't sleep, even though he wanted to do so. After about 10 minutes he glanced at the human, who was making hand motions at the bars. He could just barely feel the sparks of magic failing to become embers at her will.

That got boring really quickly, and he noticed that, unlike earlier, she was shivering. Not with fear…

“You’re wasting your time, little one”

She gasped and jumped from her sitting position, nearly toppling over. He was not asleep like she had assumed. And now he was staring at her with those glowing eyes again, full of fire and hunger.

“I am not giving up” she yawned and shook even worse, “I have no desire to be executed, not by the prince, and not by you!”

Yonah’s eyes dimmed with compassion, “You can try again in the morning. You keep this up and you’re going to freeze to death”

To his surprise she snarled at him, “What do you care!? You obviously arent worried about execution, and I dont have much else to do at the moment!”

Yonah rolled his eyes “Do you want a warm place to sleep or not? I’m only offering once. Can’t imagine you’ve had a warm bed in a while”

“I- what?” she paused, processing what he said, “Warmth… sounds wonderful… But you talked about eating me in the morning!” so she did not step near him.

“I said maybe. So you don't have to worry about it until then” He considers for a moment “I’m still making up my mind. I dont want to be used as an execution method, but I am starving. However” he yawned, his fangs looking larger than before, “I promise not to eat you tonight, and I am very warm if you want to sleep in my arms.”

“This room is absolutely freezing…” she admitted, “But I dont like the idea of you waking up before me to have a snack!”

She still looked hesitant so he added “Tiddles won’t be able to bring anything with you still visibly uneaten”

Now her fear was replaced almost entirely with confusion “Tiddles?”

“One of the little guards who did this to us. Sneaks me food most nights. If he comes tonight, I promise that I will let you try again, in the morning, to break the chains, before I resume considering whether or not to eat you. How does that sound?”

“How… likely is this Tiddles to show up?”

“He appears most nights, but not the last, and he never skips more than one night in a row.”

“How about you promise to let me try again, regardless of if Tiddles shows up!” she was not about to take such a chance.

Yonah scrunched up his face “Fine.”

“Alright, that’s much better.” she took a step towards him again “It means you have to let me go, and you wont think about eating me until after I get to genuinely try to free us”

“If you’re not tucked out of sight soon, I dont get fed, and I’ll have have a much harder time not thinking about it” he threatened “Tiddles can’t claim he thought I ate you if you’re standing alive at the front of the cage!”

A few more steps, she was almost within reach… “Fine… I guess… I just want to try a couple more times, it will be quick”

His patience waring thin he made his eyes flash “but I want to sleep, and to get fed”

“It will only take a moment!” she stopped just out of reach.

“Tiddles often manages to get me an entire barrel of crap! I’ll be willing to share” his mind now on the food, he couldnt think of much else.

“Im starting to figure it out though”

Why was she so insistent! This was not the time! “You’re tired, and cold, and hungry. You try any more magic and you’ll just pass out.”

He had gotten to his knees but he deflated a bit, lowering down into a position not unlike a crouching dragon “So I offer one more time than I said I would. A warm place to sleep. A proper meal. Or you refuse, and I get angrier, I get hungrier, and you stay cold and my only option for dinner”

She hesitated and finally sighs, “You are probably right... I just got so close to escaping today... I was gonna use a wind spell to blast open all the doors when one of them tackled me...” She took the step forward that got her within reach, and Yonah slowly reached around her, stopping her rambles. “But maybe after a rest I’ll have better success”

Having held back long enough, yonah scooped her up and returned to his corner to curl around his new teddy bear, thin and cold as it was. In contrast, his own embrace is soft, pillow-like even. And warm. So very very warm. She tensed in his grip for only a moment before calming down and closing her eyes with a deep sigh.

“By the way, I didnt introduce myself. My name is Savina”

Not resisting the urge, Yonah nuzzled her with his face, his normally neatly trimed facial hair overgrown and tangled and in need of a wash. He was drinking in her scent, even if he was resisting getting a taste, “I didn’t introduce myself either. Now shut up or I’ll put your head in my mouth to shut you up. I hear Tiddles”

As he was facing the back wall, it appeared as if he was alone in his cell, as the footsteps got closer, along with scraping noise and soon, a jingling of keys. Unlike earlier, the screech of the door opening was not so bad, knowing what it meant.

“You awake big guy? Damn this thing is so heavy… I managed to get a lot of scraps so it’s not mostly water this time! Probably tastes just as bad as all the rest, worse since I couldn’t sneak any salt in... but better than nothing right?”

The only response Tiddles got was a slight movement of Yonah’s head. His bushy mane of unkempt black hair shifting. Then two orange lights appeared. The giant's eyes locked on him with anticipation and hatred.

The guard, Tiddles, who couldn't have been older than 20, dragged a barrel within reach of Yonah, though the prisoner did not make any move.

“The others were laughing earlier about how you got a decent meal tonight… but I dont see any plate. Not surprised it was a lie. Im sorry again that this is not seasoned. But…” He left and returned before Yonah could investigate the food. Holding a large sack, the smell coming from which made yonah take a very intense breath.

“I did bring these… They were going to be used to torture other prisoners. Tested them on me. Just one bite and I thought my tongue would burn up in my own mouth, I drank so much water I thought I would throw up. But maybe it’s not as intense for giants!”

Through his dehydration Yonah started to drool, the spicy smell of the hot peppers filling his half FireWitch brain.

The display of hunger caused Tiddles to freeze up a moment “Um… I’ll take that as a yes to these. Great Goddess they make my eyes water!” he set the sack down and went to the other back corner where an empty barrel was on it’s side.

“I’ll take this one, yes?” Tiddles didn’t wait for an answer but said “you’re… not as talkative tonight. Usually you threaten-joke about eating me along with the slop. You alright?”

As soon as Tiddles had moved away from the full Barrel and sack of peppers, Yonah Sat up and scooted over with one hand. Revealing the reason he was not talking. Savina was tucked into his elbow, having fallen asleep.

Tiddles seemed briefly transfixed by the woman. If yonah had to describe the expression the closest would be reverence. Before cringing away.

“That’s what they meant by a good meal!?” He shook off his surprise “what a load of dragon crap. You’re not some feral animal”

Yonah didnt respond to this continued attempt to bond with him as he dragged the barrel back to his corner and stuck his finger in, building up his fire to warm up the cold scraps and water. Tiddles made no more small talk and left him to his pitiful “meal”.

Once the contents of the barrel started to steam, Yonah nudged Savina awake. She was not happy about that.

“I was actually sleeping well, what the fuck”

Yonah set her on his lap, the barrel in front of them both. “If you dont eat some of this now, I’ll eat all of it. You wont get a single drop, but if you eat now, you wont make a dent in it noticeable to me”

She nodded, understanding, and put her hands into the barrel. Yelping in pain as the hot slop made contact with her burnt hands.

Grumbling about how she was an idiot, yonah rummaged around in his chain pile for a flat piece of metal. It was a band from a previous barrel that he had broken. That was the only time he had gotten an earful from Tiddles about how if he continued to do that, Tiddles wouldnt be able to sneak him more food. He was able, with some effort, to heat it, pinch it, and bite it into a sort of ladle, which he used to scoop up the scrap soup and hold it to Savina who was very grateful.

Even with his encouragement she ate very little. Yonah had no idea how long she’d been here, but it was likely longer than himself, and it was very probable that her stomach had shrunken, so he eventually gave into his own hunger and stopped trying to get her to eat more and let her slump against his middle and fall back to sleep.

But before he ate any of it he took the peppers out of the sack and crushed them into the prison soup. It took all his self control not to just eat the peppers straight up. So he rewarded himself by licking the juice from his fingers.

He would have downed the contents of the barrel like a shot but resisted as it would have wasted all his patience preparing it for better taste. And even if it was literal scraps in unsalted water, hunger was the best seasoning. And the peppers, made this the best thing he’d tasted in the time since he woke up in this cell.

It made it much easier to not think about eating the woman in his lap as he too lay down to fall asleep.

---

He woke first, and during the hours of the night his stomach had become rather empty again. Though he kept his promise and resisted thinking about eating her. He did not, however, resist tasting her; he never made a promise involving tasting.

“NO!” she yelped and sputtered as he licked her face like a very large dog waking up it’s owner, clearly convinced he was going to eat her, panicking.

He stopped licking her, But he was not listening to her protests. The moment she yelled the world felt lighter. He felt… no, no time to dwell. He tossed Savina aside and focused on generating a lot of fire into his ankle cuffs. It wasnt enough to melt them, but it was enough to make them soft. Soft enough that he could pull and stretch them and get free.

And then the feeling was gone. Back to that soul crushing feeling that had been ever present, as if it was never gone.

“What did you DO?” he snarled as he rubbed his freed ankles, which were red and raw from the previously tight metal cuffs.

Savina got up, looking frazzled with one side of her hair sticking up and out at odd angles due to half-giant spit. “What I was trying to do last night! Hey!”

Yonah crawled to her and picked her up, putting his face close to hers to demand, rather loudly “Do it AGAIN”

Defiantly she took his gaze and his rank breath “I wish I could! Like I said before, and like you just saw, I can’t do this on purpose! It just happens!”

In a rage his eyes flash and he bares his teeth “Fucking useless!”. His urge to throw her against the wall lost out to his being touch starved and instead he sat back down to hold her just a little too tight.

He did not fail to notice that a small hint of the relief of pressure occurred when she gasped at his moment of rage.

“So. Did that count as your morning try? Should I start considering whether or not to eat you again?”

She stiffened in his grasp “that wasn’t intentional! But doesn’t it prove what I was saying, that I am too useful to consider eating, that with practice I can succeed?”

“I already got my legs free. I can reach the bars now. Reckon i can try smashing them… and if I eat you i may have the strength to do it” he huffed. With a small amount of food and a night’s sleep, what he had was the energy to be a massive dickhead again. “So you would be helping me.”

“Those bars are heavily reinforced with the prison magic! They’ve kept giants bigger than you in this prison!”

“I’d still like to try, so you’re lucky I want company more than a proper meal right now,” he chuckled against her. She was so skinny she wouldn't even be a proper meal, maybe half of one.

“Please let me try again later to disable the nullification. Then we can both get out and get decent food” she sounded both desperate and angry.

“I know exactly what I’m eating if I get out” his eyes flashed again and he licked his lips.

Savina shuddered but did not sound disgusted when she said “i think i have an idea of what… or who… that might be”

“So, are you going to try again or what?” Yonah was getting impatient.

“Will you be ready to break down the bars when the magic reinforcement is gone?” she asked.

Yonah backed up against the wall, bracing himself so he could charge. If she succeeded.

Savina went to the front of the cell, grasped the bars and closed her eyes, muttering. Occasionally she let go and made hand gestures.

Nothing.

Maybe she needed encouragement. Yonah growled at her. Low and threatening. Savina stiffened and he felt the pressure lift, very slightly, very briefly.

“Get on with it!” he hissed.

“I’m trying!” she shot back, walking to the center of the cell, it didnt seem to matter where she was.

Then she screamed, her whole body hitting the ground as suddenly Yonah was on top of her, having pinned her under a hand. He snarled in her face “Maybe I should just eat you then! At least my last meal will be a tasty one!”

This succeeded in having the desired effect. Whatever the nullification was, it lifted. However he could feel it coming back.

“NO! I’m trying, give me one more chance, I know I can do it!”

He was not listening to her. He had confirmed his theory. Without hesitation he took her left arm in his jaws. She started crying and screaming, Pushing at his face to pull away. “Stop Stop! You’re hurting me!” Her voice was shrill.

/That’s the idea/ he thought.

With a sickening CRUNCH and a shriek, it was Yonah’s turn to be thrown, against the wall.

Not that he cared. Not one bit.

The magical nullification was gone.

From the entire prison. With no signs of coming back.

Keeping his promise not to eat her, and extending that promise to any part of her, Yonah crawled over to Savina and opened his jaws to release the nearly severed arm, along with at least a gallon of bloody drool. Savina just sobbed. Hmmm she could bleed out. That would also be counter to his promise, in spirit, if not in word. He rubbed a thumb and finger together until they were red hot and pressed the tip of the finger to her shoulder.

The scent of burning flesh filled the air as he cauterized her wound. But there were more important things to take care of now.

Fueled by adrenaline, hunger, and literal fire in his veins, yonah gripped his prison bars, making them red hot. In a few moments he wrenched them apart and he was out. He barely noticed the flash of light behind him as he stepped out of his cage.

The alarms hadn't even started ringing by the time he ran into the first unfortunate guard.

----

It was the alarm bells that brought Savina back to earth. She sat up, and blanched as a sticky arm rolled off her chest and into her lap. She was still covered in blood but the wound had sealed. For all her lost memory she did recall something very important. She should keep her arm. Holding it kept her from trying to touch her shoulder. She had never experienced anything so painful in her life-

No… wait. She had experienced something more painful… Now her head throbbed too! Nevermind any of this! She had to find the half giant mage, he was her ticket out. Even with the magic nullification gone, she wouldn’t get far drained of her own magic and severely injured.

It wasn’t hard to find him. All she had to do was follow the trail of carnage and busted cell doors.

The first guard she found had no head, and a chunk of a shoulder missing. Blood pooled on the ground from the massive bite. Hmmmm. He had a nice sword. Putting her arm down momentarily, She took the sword and a belt to sheath it. It was a bit tricky to get the belt off the person and onto herself but she managed. Before she took her arm off the ground and continued on, not caring to avoid stepping in the blood. .

More dead guards lined the halls as she progressed. Most of them were missing their heads, some of them burned to a crisp. But many were only missing their limbs, or had a bite taken out of the side. Some of those were still living. One in particular had been bitten from the hips down, their guts spilling out onto the floor. She decided not to use her sword to put them out of their misery. Her excuse being that it would be too much effort to put her arm down every time.

Finally she caught up to the large mage. He was in one of the storage rooms where the more dangerous items confiscated from mages were kept. He was ransacking it, shoveling items into something, but finished as she entered and stood up, putting a hat on his head. If he wasn’t so large and didn’t have such a distinct physique, she might not have recognized him.

Dressed in a stunning outfit of mostly blues and golds, with a massive wide brimmed pointed hat to match, his hair now shining and tied back in a segmented pony tail, standing up to his full height and holding a majestic wooden staff, the once brutish creature from the cell was looking more like a person. Except for the fire in his eyes and blood and viscera hanging from his jaws.

With misplaced confidence she walked right up to Yonah and holding the shoulder end of the severed arm she swung to smack him in the ankle. He had on boots now and she wasnt sure he felt that until he looked down at her.

“You FUCKING ASSHOLE!” She bellowed “You TORE my arm off! Why would you do that?!”

He looked at her angry and quizzically “The anti-magic field is gone. It worked.”

She did not back away from his gaze, since he was not currently trying to eat her she figured he wasn’t going to. Clearly he had not hesitated with the guards. She waved the arm around in frustration "you didnt have to BITE IT OFF"

Yonah crouched down to snarl “Clearly I did. You weren’t in enough… danger to disable the field. I’m rather clever you know.” Without asking he scooped her up to hold her up to his face with a cheeky, blood stained grin, “After you told the story of your assault, I started to put the pieces together. Mortal peril seems to do the trick nicely”

“I still dont think you needed TO BITE MY ARM OFF,” she repeated.

Once again she used the severed arm to slap him, now in the face.

He blinked in a kind of shock and then bared his teeth “I think you’ve lost your arm privileges”

His first instinct was to get the wrist between his teeth and gulp the arm down. But… he still felt like he should keep his promise. And now that his belly was half filled with chunks of prison guard he could think clearer.

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU BASTARD!”

Savina shrieked as the giant man pinched her arm, the severed arm, plucking it from her weak grasp. His eyes flashed and it was lit up like a match.

Lost for words she watched as her arm burned into ash before her very eyes, the giant man grinning once again.

Now she was shaking with rage “I COULD HAVE RE-ATTACHED THAT”

His grin became a scowl “How in this reality was I supposed to know that?”

“Weren't you listening, you didnt even need to bite it off in the first place! My magic was starting to work!”

He talked as he placed her onto his shoulder, securing her to the harness he had found with his belongings.

“Didn’t I? We dont know that. Guess we will have to experiment later” he smiled wickedly, marching out of the room “But right now, I’m still hungry and there’s still more guards left alive.”

As he said this a guard rushed around the corner with a crossbow and fired. Yonah, having heard the footsteps just jerked his staff and the bolt exploded. He snatched up the guard, put the poor fucker’s head in his mouth and bit down, while pulling the body away. The sound was similar to when he’d bitten her arm, and blood spurted from the neck onto his face, and Savina’s entire person.

Yonah swallowed the head and tossed the body aside “I can’t eat them all at my size even if I only eat pieces. I can burn them, or crush them” he explained as yet another guard appeared which he simply squashed by slamming his staff down upon, “but I think we need some help. The human prisoners do not seem so eager to get back at their tormentors as I had thought.”

“They are running away from you. If you weren’t on a massacre they would probably be taking the advantage to riot and get revenge.”

“So we need more monsters.”

As he continued through the prison he broke every occupied cell, letting the prisoners run, and killing every guard with an intense savagery. But the most horrific thing, in Savina’s opinion, was when he picked up whole and alive guards and tossed them into his hat.

Eventually he broke into a cell and the prisoner inside did not immediately cower or run, but stood up, eyes reflecting in the darkness. A tall pale man with dark hair smiled with sharp fangs.

“That’s a vampire!” Savina informed him. The vampire bowed.

“A very blood starved vampire, and I could smell the flood coming from the other side of the prison, yet I was too weak to break myself free once I felt the magic nullification just, go away. Was that you?” he stared at Savina, not Yonah.

Savina gingerly touched the raw, burned flesh of her shoulder and looked very annoyed, “Yes. it was me.”

“I’m going to feast now, as I see you have been doing, mysteriously small giant”

“Don’t fill up on the ones I’ve killed, take out the ones still alive” Yonah instructed.

“Wise words,” said the vampire, “though I will take a little of this one, just to gain back my strength.”

Before leaving yonah sniffed at the vampire. Then reached up into his hat and pulled out a fancy, though sadly wrinkled and dirtied, suit. And tossed it at the vampire.

“Smells like you”

The vampire stood up from taking a drink of blood from the guard who Yonah had decided to merely kick against a wall.

“My clothes! You are a gentleman monster!” And with a snap of his fingers swapped out his prison outfit for his old one. “I feel more like myself already!”

Done with the small talk, Yonah moved on. It was time to get out of this place, with hopefully minimal distractions. He would still make a snack, a charred corpse, or a bloody pulp out of any guard he came across.

But it was only a few cells later that again, the prisoner did not immediately scream or flee. Yonah could sense a very eerie magical aura from her, she was pale like the vampire but he suspected she was not one. She smiled at him like the vampire but her teeth were flat.

“My dear emancipator, did you come across a spider necklace during your rampage? I would very much like to have it back.”

That was odd enough that Yonah decided not to ignore it and instead reach into his hat. He did not recall a spider necklace so he could only think the words. An object indeed fell into his hand. Which he tossed to the woman who squealed like a giddy teenager as she caught it.

Putting it on she rubbed the shining black thorax of the obsidian spider inlaid on the silver medallion.

That eerie aura from before increased 100 fold, followed by the chittering, skittering, buzzing of millions of tiny legs and wings. Unlike Yonah’s cell, this woman’s had a window. And through it marched or flew an unimaginable number of insects and arachnids.

Yonah took a step back. But the plaque of bugs was swarming into the prison from every window, every crevice, every crack in the wall, every broken pipe.

“My children will clean out this place” she giggled, though it was closer to a witch’s cackle.

Yonah backed away from her. Deciding that it was now time to leave this wretched place, confident the bugs could take care of the rest. It was by her merciful magic that the bugs avoided him entirely, and seemed to be able to scramble away from his footsteps even as he started down the corridor.

Ah, another guard, coming out of a nearby door, a good distraction from the creepy crawlies. He rushed and shoved the guard up to their torso into his mouth and got ready to bite down. As the ribs started to crack between his teeth the taste of this guard matched up to a familiar smell.

Releasing his jaws he held a gasping, screaming Tiddles.

“If you dont want that one, my babies will happily take him!” The bug witch called from behind him.

Ignoring the creepy aura yonah wheeled around snarling “He’s MINE” and he secured the flailing young man to his shoulder.

“Suit yourself” said the witch, “but he seems to not like you very much, and I am not overly fond of him myself”

Tiddles was indeed trying to free himself, earning him a swift flick to the head. “Probably hurts with those broken ribs to struggle like that, little one. I will keep you safe.”

Without another word Yonah turned back. Enough of this. He pointed his staff at the wall and blasted a hole through, stepping outside. Still in the walled compound he did not take a fresh breath of freedom just yet. He ran for the walls.

Arrows and crossbow bolts rained down at him. Fine. It was time for some big magic. Yonah stopped and took his staff, raising it into the air he found in it the perfect spell. He swirled it around and chanted. The morning sky, which was clear, crackled, and a swirling storm cloud gathered overhead.

The guards on the ramparts screamed as bolts of lightning struck them, leaving Yonah free to take down a section of wall and flee into the forested mountains.

It was after he had been half running half jogging for 15 minutes that he stopped and sat down against a cool boulder shaded by the trees. Or rather he nearly collapsed. One big gorey feast after weeks of starvation would not immediately restore him. That would take time. He had been running on the reserves of his magic, adrenaline, and a bloodlust.

The moment he closed his eyes to rest however, he felt Tiddles renew his struggling.

“Why do you keep this up” Yonah mumbled, not looking at Tiddles, but feeling him freeze.

“I dont want to die!” the young man squeaked. “I saw you eat the other guards!”

“Well then aren’t you in luck that I filled up on them? I had enough to be satisfied for a while.”

That did not calm Tiddles down any more, the struggling was back “You kept me as leftovers!” he shrieked.

“Naw” Yonah said and reached into his hat to draw out an intact, but dead, guard, “I already did that.”

He felt Tiddles faint at that declaration. This did not bring Yonah any joy, as Tiddles’ terror had done before. Being so full Yonah just returned the corpse to the pocket space that was his wizard hat.

“So, where to now?” Savina said after five minutes “We need to get going, surely someone will try to follow! There is more than one shift of guards and they will be looking for all the escaped prisoners, especially you, who was responsible!”

“I think the bug witch will make sure no one does” yonah said, though it was more likely that at least one idiot would manage to slip away. “But I am tired, We need to find a cave or something to hide out in to recoup my… I mean our strength”

“I can help with that”

As if on cue the bug witch stepped out from behind a tree. Yonah eyed her suspiciously. Savina was too hurt and too exhausted to do the same.

“Oh really? And why would you?”

She just laughed “You saved me? And you returned my amulet to me! I owe you big time. By the way, you look just awful. Would you like my children to clean you up?”

“What do you mean?”

Before she answered there was more buzzing in the air as wasps swarmed around her “these little gals are very efficient! I promise they will not sting”

“They cannot hurt my humans either!” he said, nervous about what was about to happen.

“Of course”

He still held his breath as the wasped charged at him and his companions. Savina screamed as well before she smartly held her breath too. Tiddles was the luckiest, unconscious for the whole thing.

It was over in just a minute, thank the gods, as Yonah would have to take a breath. Still, he sneezed and a few bugs flew out. Savina was breathing heavily.

“So, bug witch,”

“Cait!”

“Cait… What’s a nearby place for a big monster to get some rest?”

The woman considered “Hmm… The woods that way are decent. Bears will be scared off by you. Humans should leave you alone. There’s a cave in those woods if you want extra shelter. I want to get back to my home but I can have one of my babies guide you there”

“That would be much appreciated” Yonah focused and gathered up more strength to stand up. And then froze in place as the largest drider he had ever seen came into sight.

“Babe!” he called, ignoring yonah and scooping up the witch into a hug that transitioned into messy kisses.

“I got out of the prison!” she declared, “this nice big fellow helped me! Got my amulet!”

The Drider was a full head taller than Yonah and eyed him over with all 8 eyes before nodding. From between all of his feet a smaller, but large dog sized tarantula, scampered up to Yonah.

“Charlie here will lead you to shelter!” said Cait, “Now I haven't been home in a long time”

And with that, the witch and the drider left.

Charlie made a hissing sound while scraping her feet on a rock to get Yonah’s attention. She led Yonah to a large rocky incline and eventually to the mouth of a cave.It was large enough that if he crawled, he could get in. Which he did without hesitating.

The cave was larger in the inside and he probably could have stood up but he stayed sitting.

The spider stayed at the entrance of the cave, made a little dance, and then disappeared.

“Seems safe enough…” Yonah said. He unharnessed Savina so she could sit in his lap. “Guess what, I was lucid enough during my rampage that I picked up food that wasn’t dead guards!” and from his hat he got out some bread and cheese, and even a barrel of water.

“Um… no thanks” she said.

“You must eat, Savina”

“Im too nauseated from the pain.”

She did look a little green now that she said it.

“I have a healing potion… it should numb the pain a bit.” This he took from a sleeve. A small vial. Just a single ounce. It was like a grain of rice in his palm “It will even help with your shoulder, to at least regrow the flesh around it and stop infection”

She took it, and still looking like putting anything in her mouth would make her vomit, she downed it like a shot.

30 seconds later she felt much better. Or at least, felt less pain… She still felt like complete shit. But took the food with her good arm and started eating.

“I dont know why you brought him along…” she said, referring to Tiddles through a mouthful of bread.

“I doubt someone as kind as him works at an evil prison if he has a happy home to return to. Plus if i had let him go.. The other prisoners might not have been so kind to him. He was still a guard.” Yonah yawned, “Fuck. Im tired. Didnt we just wake up like, an hour ago?” he asked.

“Sure but you just broke a prison” Savina pointed out.

“I did… didn’t I…” Yonah tried to lay down but found that didn’t work with Tiddles on his shoulder. So he resigned himself to sleeping upright for now.

Still half starved, Savina did not manage to eat much. So yonah put the food back. He found a outcrop of rock that he could lean against and put an arm protectively in front of Savina. She put her own remaining arm over his. And they both fell asleep at the same time.

Even through the exhaustion of his over half a month in prison, and the torpor his kind got from a full belly, Yonah HaEsh heard the quiet footsteps of someone entering the cave.

Yet his brain was still slow to react. He opened his eyes and stared down.

Kneeling in his lap, holding Savina’s arm to his fanged mouth, moments away from biting down, was the vampire.

----

[FIN]

UHHHH thanks for reading. If you liked this please let me know. If this fits your blog theme please reblog it!

I hope you enjoyed this. and I hope to have more of it for you in the future. lots more adventure to come!

#sfw vore #hard vore #fatal vore #nonsexual vore #ROTDK #sfw does not mean NON FATAL #there is nothing here that wouldnt be in LOTR #well maybe it's a little more intense than LOTR #I work on a sliding scale of LOTR to GoT and this leans more LOTR

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bisexualdaemon · 3 years

Text

mad woman: iii (nessian)

a/n: *taps mic* does this thing still work? OH hey! hello! yes, this fic is properly old now and probably everyone thought I abandoned it but joke is on everyone including myself lmao...turns out I love these two..and after acosf well I would 10/10 die for them. so here we go! a ride to be sure! people do be getting naked!

warnings: 4.8k of smut (like woah). language. guilt.

Nesta wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing.

It had seemed like a good idea. Everyone in certain social circles knew the truth about Hewn City. Knew the dance club for the front it was for the shadowy bowels beneath. Here, she had thought yesterday morning, here she could be on even ground with him.

Him.

Cassian's hand was still in hers as she led them both down the long hallway toward room 3B. His words before hadn’t completely hidden his reactions to her clothes, her face, her body. She smiled to herself remembering the slight widening of his eyes. He probably thought he hadn’t reacted, but she knew. All men are weak. Just put on a dress and show some thigh and she knew she’d get his attention. Even if it was probably all for show. Cassian was a fine actor.

She thought back to four days ago. Or was it five, she thought. They had started to bleed together after the bender she’d gone on after wishing Cassian death on the phone with Amren.

Feyre was in her apartment for the second time in a week. An unprecedented occurrence. If the judgment in her eyes was any indication, she had come to check on things. Baby sister coming to her rescue. How rich. She stood on the carpet again, with her perfect heeled sandals and her tidy camel trench coat. Thankfully, she’d left the hat at home this time. Her arms were crossed tight against her chest as she surveyed the room.

“I see you’ve already made yourself at home again,” she observed, picking up a half-empty bottle of gin, “I’ll send Alis this afternoon.”

“I don’t want anyone else in my fucking apartment, Feyre,” Nesta cringed at the lingering slur in her voice.

“So you can drown yourself in this shit alone?” She held up an empty bottle of vodka in her other hand. “Nesta, it’s only been a few days since I was here the last time. Can you even stand right now?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Nesta sneered, settling back into the couch cushions. She couldn’t, but Feyre was a bitch for even asking, so she spat back, “At least I cope with my problems legally, High Lady.” In a fantasy world, smoke would have curled from her lips when she exhaled those last words.

Feyre stilled, breathing evenly. Nesta wasn’t sure if she was containing her rage or accepting the shame she had to be feeling.

“I see you gave Amren a call.”

“She didn’t tell you?” Nesta was surprised. Amren had seemed like one of Feyre’s inner circle, no matter how much money the High Lord and Lady may have given her.

“No, I told Amren that what you did with her number was your business,” she wrung her hands. She was….nervous. How odd. Feyre Archeron was a lot of things, but nervous was rarely one of them.

“Well,” Nesta exhaled, the anger fleeting like wind taken out of her sails, “yes, I called. Everything was very cryptic until someone showed up here who was not a therapist and started taking his clothes off. Honestly, what were you thinking, Feyre?!”

“I…” she hesitated, sinking down on the other end of the couch with Nesta, bracing her elbows on her knees, “I don’t know. I was desperate. I just want you to feel something again, Nes.” She hadn’t called her that since they were children. Nesta felt a little pang in her chest. I need another drink. “I know it’s...unconventional, but it really does help. Rhys and I...well, you know there’s a lot of stress involved in our lives.”

“So you fuck it out with strangers that you pay to keep silent??” Nesta asked incredulously.

“When you put it like that it sounds a lot seedier than it actually is, but,” she huffed, swallowing back some kind of emotion, “yes. There’s a lot of….relief, if you just give into it. Amren knows what she’s doing.”

“Are you and Rhys having problems?” It was the only explanation Nesta could understand for this. I mean it was one thing to hire a hooker if you weren’t getting any, but from the forced lunches and “sister dates” that Elain made the three of them go on, Feyre had always seemed to have a very active sex life.

“Oh, God, no,” Feyre visibly relaxed, caught off guard by even the implication. That made Nesta’s stomach relax. She hadn’t even realized she cared. “Rhys and I are fine, stronger even. There is power in giving up power, especially when you grapple with it on a daily basis. But this isn’t about me or Rhys.” Feyre leaned over and reached out to take Nesta’s hands, but stopped when Nesta visibly tensed at the mere idea of contact. “I’m really not lying when I say I think a little relief would help you.”

“Why do you insist I need help?” Nesta ground out through her teeth.

Feyre sighed and stood. There was something settling over her face, deep in her eyes. Sadness. “Suit yourself, sister.” She stood and, to Nesta’s surprise, took a swig from the half-empty gin bottle she’d pushed in Nesta’s face earlier. Her face screwed up in a grimace, “Jesus, how do you drink that shit?”

“I don’t even taste it anymore.” Nesta looked off, toward the window. Toward the empty corner where the wedding dress had hung for months. She’d taken it down that night after he had left.

That bone-deep sadness returned to Feyre’s eyes, “Alis will be here this afternoon.”

She left without another word.

Nesta sighed, catching Cassian’s attention, but she said nothing. She kept a steady flow of booze in her veins after Feyre left for three more days, sometimes just laying in bed for hours while the world spun. She saw Tomas, saw Elain, but most often she saw hazel eyes and bold, dark lines inked across a broad, tanned chest. Those were the torturous hours, when the desire would rise in her, when she would feel something just like Feyre said. Even if it made her soul burn. He was haunting her. He’d left her alone, angry and wet, for what? Because she refused to accept his “help”? Wasn’t this all just fucking anyway? What difference did it make how she responded?

The frustration had overwhelmed her until she finally realized that it didn’t matter how much she drank, he wouldn’t go away. She couldn’t chase him into a whiskey-soaked oblivion like she could the memories of her fiancé and her sister. He was real. He was still breathing. He was making her life a living hell.

He was going to pay for it.

So, she’d called Amren back. Had made him meet her here of all places. Had put on a dress and a pair of heels and more makeup than she’d been planning to wear at her own wedding. A costume. A mask. If he was going to “help” her, at least it wouldn’t seem like her that he was helping. She’d fuck him out of her life on her terms. Just once wouldn’t damn her to hell, right?

Nesta had never been to Hewn City before. Clubbing had never been her style. She was more of a library, bookworm kind of girl. But now that she was here, she kind of liked the secrecy of it all, the discretion everyone had whispered about. It made her feel like a character in one of her books, a different kind of escape than booze offered, with the rouge-tinted lights and shadowy, padded hallways. She could be anyone here. She would be anyone here. Anyone but herself.

“I think this is it,” Cassian’s deep rumble sounded behind her. They stopped in front of a painted black door, the marker flickering “3B” in the light of the candle sconce behind them. Nesta fit the key into the lock and turned it.

The room was cooler than the hall, but she wasn’t sure the temperature was what made her break out in gooseflesh. There was a massive four-poster bed in the center of the room covered in black satin sheets drawn back against a deep crimson comforter. Only a handful of hanging exposed bulbs lit the space, giving the boudoir decoration some industrial finishes. It was like a scene out of some vampire film noir. The light reflecting off heavy restraint cuffs at each corner of the bed only heightened the effect. A dark armoire loomed in the corner. Nesta was sure that if she opened it, she would find any number of instruments with which to tease and taunt Cassian with. This place was a sex dungeon and she had paid to be a mistress tonight.

Cassian’s mistress.

Nesta took a deep breath and settled into this new character, some confident woman who knew exactly what she wanted and knew exactly how to take it from a willing participant. She sauntered over to the foot of the bed and leaned back against it to look at him. He was so quiet tonight, looking around the room like she had, taking it all in.

“Cat got your tongue?” Nesta proded.

“No,” he hesitated, stuffing his hands into his front pockets like an embarrassed school boy rocking forward on his toes. It only lasted for a second before he hid it behind a smirk, “no, just a little….confused?”

“About what?” She crossed her feet at the ankle and let the deep slit on her dress fall open, revealing almost every inch of her long legs. His eyes widened momentarily before he cleared his throat. Was he….nervous?

“Well, uhh,” he was stammering now, the false bravado unable to keep up with the situation unfolding in front of him, “if I’m being honest, I’m not sure what to do.”

“You mean, Cassian, self-proclaimed sex therapist, doesn’t know what to do?” The teasing in her voice blushed his cheeks pink, “well, color me surprised. I thought it would have been clear by now.”

“It’s not that it’s...you’re…” he cocked his head, “different.” His eyes followed every inch of bare skin from her painted toe to the top of the slit an inch below her hip. “Something changed.”

Why does he make this so damn difficult?

“Yes, well,” she replied, biting her bottom lip for effect, “I decided that I want you to help me.” His head straightened.

“Do you?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, emphasizing the size of his biceps. His nervous energy cooled in seconds, giving way to something else, something that had been simmering beneath the ice.

“I do,” she slipped back a little farther onto her palms, tilting her head back. She was a predator, setting a pretty, needy trap for him. If he got off on a savior complex, she’d play the part until she got what she wanted. “I just want to feel normal again.” She smiled internally as she watched her words wash over him. Watched him take a few deep breaths, watched him move for the first time since they walked in the room.

He kept his body closed, his arms a barrier between the two of them, as he stalked forward. Nesta stopped breathing, feeling his gaze shift from confusion and questions to calculated assessment. He paused in front of her and bent down, his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of her slim waist. The space between them was thinner than the air atop the mountains in Illyria.

“I think…” he looked her in the eye, no blinking, no touching, just a wisp of mint from his mouth, “that’s a load of bullshit.”

A rush of fury, so white hot it blinded her, licked down her arm. She raised her open hand and ripped it through the air.

Only to be caught in an iron grip.

“Ah, ah, dear Nesta,” his lips curled up on one side, “I like a little pain with my pleasure, but not without my consent.”

All she could do was stare him down as she huffed, imagining the breath leaving her nostrils in puffs of hot smoke. A caged dragon in pretty clothes begging to get out. But hell would freeze over before she moved first. She could feel the tension between them, feel the electricity pulsing through him where his fist gripped her wrist. Maybe it was her pheromone-laced delusion but she thought he might want this as much as she did. He wanted her challenge, her adamant wall. He wanted to break her, remake her. Little did he know that you can’t break what’s already broken.

Just a character, just a role to play...

“Oh, come on, Cassian,” she tried to free her hand but he remained hard as stone around her wrist. He hadn’t pinned her legs though. She slid one bare leg up the inside seam of his jeans. The muscles flexed and contracted underneath the well-fit fabric, higher and higher, until she reached the apex. He hissed. A feline smile spread across her face when she felt it, felt him, hard and begging for her. “I think you want this a little more than you’re willing to admit, more than you’re allowed to admit.”

His nostrils flared, barely imperceptible, but even the smallest changes in him drew her notice. Why? It was a question she didn’t want to even ask herself, but it kept coming, night and day. Why did this night feel like the edge of a dangerous cliff? Why did his agreement to come tonight feel like more than just a business arrangement? Why did the tension between them feel like her only anchor to this life? She pressed harder into him, needing to move, to get this over with, to fuck him right out of her head.

“Nesta.” His voice brought her back from those questions that haunted her like the inked lines hidden underneath his t-shirt. So close now, so close to her fingers, her mouth. She looked up at him, aware of her knee still cradled between his legs.

“Cassian.” Her voice practically sang. The song of his own personal siren.

He was so still. If he hadn’t said her name she wouldn’t have been sure he was even breathing. He placed his hand between his groin and her knee and stepped backward. His pupils were wide, endless pools, black as tar and eating at the hazel surrounding them. He was drunk on the lust, drowning in it just like she was.

“Take off that dress before I rip it off.”

A bone-deep shiver ran from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes at the command, reaching back up to settle between her thighs. She flushed from the heat of his gaze on her skin as she stood, reaching behind her neck to loose the three pearl buttons between her pride and her desire. Fuck it. The dress pooled at her feet.

The corner of her lip tugged upward when she heard his breath catch. She wasn’t wearing anything under the dress. Lingerie had felt like too much and her regular cotton cheekies would have been too conspicuous beneath her close-fitting dress, so nothing had been the only choice. The right choice if Cassian’s jeans had anything to say about it, clearly growing tighter by the second.

Nesta backed herself onto the bed again, digging in with her heels to push herself toward the headboard as gracefully as she could while burning alive. And she was burning under his gaze. Every flick of his dilated pupils, from her bare legs, to her full breasts, to her smooth stomach, to her glistening cunt, she burned. When her head thudded against the carved cherry wood headboard, his eyes finally met hers. A low growl sounded in the back of his throat.

“See something you want, Cassian?” she asked, struggling to keep her tone innocent, indifferent.

“Depends, Nes.” She ignored the heat that pooled at the nickname, especially when he said, “what are you offering?”

She bit her lip at his words. And spread her knees open for him. Now, come and take it.

He went wholly still as pink creeped into his tan cheeks. He was fucking blushing at her cunt on display for him. A filthy thought entered her head and before she could shut it down, she reached between her legs and traced a finger over her slit. The low lights flickered in the reflection off the wetness laced there before her finger disappeared….

Right between Nesta’s wine-colored lips.

His eyes tracked that finger in and out of her mouth as she sucked and swirled her tongue around it, moaning at the taste of her arousal, the eroticism of the gesture. She released her finger with a pop and smiled wickedly at him.

“Want to taste?”

Cassian moved swift as a thunderclap, as if her words were paddles jumpstarting his heart into quick, heavy beats. He pulled off his shirt. Those thick, black lines of ink that haunted her dreams were on full display, curling around his biceps and across his broad shoulders. She wanted to trace them with her tongue, taste the salt on his skin. He didn’t bother with some cliché striptease. His fingers fumbled with his belt, fumbled with the top button and zipper of those tight jeans. He tripped out of them, splaying his hands across the rumpled comforter as he kicked his pants somewhere across the room, losing his shoes and socks at some point between.

She would have smirked at the clumsiness, questioned his self-proclaimed prowess as a sex therapist, if her throat hadn’t gone completely dry at the size of him. Even through his underwear there was no mistaking it—massive, just like every inch of the rest of his body. Of course, he had a cock to match.

He grinned, following her eyes, guessing her train of thought. The bed dipped as he crawled toward her, full prince of cats on display again. A man who knew what people saw when they looked at him and enjoyed that power, that raw sexual energy dripping from his every pore. With that glint in his eye, she was happy to play along—for now.

Every thread in the expensive duvet cover beneath her set a thousand sparks rocketing across her skin. His movements were measured, purposefully kept from touching her skin. He was so close she could feel the warmth radiating off of him with every inch forward, every inch toward where she wanted him. All of him. His fingers, his mouth, his cock. Nesta started to fidget with anticipation, ready for him to spread her open and take, take, take, but she wouldn’t beg. Wouldn’t reach or claw or whimper, no matter how much she wanted to.

Feyre might be paying, but she would own him before the end. Even if she had to sacrifice her soul to do it.

When his mouth finally made contact with her skin, a whisper of a kiss along the inside of her thigh, it was a struggle not to moan. Loud. She was strung tighter than a bowstring and he knew. Her traitor body was going to beg for him with or without words, so she opened her mouth instead.

“Gonna fuck me senseless, Cassian?”

His head jerked up from between her thighs, that feline smile turning her molten. “You know, Nesta. I think I’ll shut you up instead.”

Someone as big as he was shouldn’t have been able to move that fast. Shouldn’t have been able to cover her entire body with his and claim her mouth between one second and the next. His hands curled behind her neck to pull her firmly to him and devoured her. Their tongues clashed, dancing together, as she moaned into his mouth. Whether it was surprise or pleasure or both that pulled it from her, she wasn’t sure. The mint and adrenaline still laced his tongue, this time with a natural smokiness that she hadn’t noticed before. He licked at her, sucked at her lower lip. She nipped at him, teeth as much a weapon as her words, her hands. She dragged her nails down his naked back and drew a hiss from him, maybe some blood too if the tang of iron was any indication.

It only spurred him.

“You know these lips taste better when they’re not liquor-stained,” he panted. He studied her face, she knew it must be flushed from his kiss, and slowly ground his hips into hers, with the same bruising intensity he claimed her mouth, drenching himself in her through the thin fabric of his underwear. Those really need to disappear. Her fingers continued their violent path down his back to the waistband of his boxer briefs, the only barrier left between everything she wanted. Wanted, never needed. They danced around to the front of him and sought purchase.

Another moan, loud and throaty filled the space between them.

My God.

“Off, off, off, off,” she was chanting when he finally released her mouth to move down to her neck, surely to mark her like she’d marked his back. It was going to be tit for tat with him. “OFF,” she clawed at his hips. He raised up and smirked at her.

“You just have to ask, Nes.” His lips curled to the side, “maybe say please.”

She held his gaze. Please. It was a chant in her head but she couldn’t say it. He saw it there, the challenge, the struggle, but this was a battle of wills. And Cassian was a seasoned general.

He ducked his head and nosed at her jaw, along her throat, peppering her skin with close-mouthed kisses. “Just say the word,” he ground into her again, not nearly the friction she wanted. His hands found her peaked breasts and traced her nipples, slow circles at first, then quick pinches accented by his teeth at her throat. There was no pattern, no guessing, no preparation. Every nerve ending was a live wire, screaming for his touch.

Nesta Archeron was going to die here. The flames in her belly were going to consume her and she was going to die at a high-priced sex club. And maybe she should. It might be worth it. Rhysand would never live it down. She wouldn’t sacrifice her pride for an orgasm. But, as his hips did another slow roll against hers and he scraped at her neck with his teeth, her resolve imploded.

“Please,” she croaked. She felt his smile against her skin.

“What was that?”

“Please,” she said a little louder, still barely a whisper.

“That’s awfully quiet, Nesta,” he licked at her collarbone and made her eyes roll back into her head. “Makes me think you don’t really want it.”

“Please,” she repeated, her head thrashing, “please, PLEASE.”

“Okay, okay,” he pushed up to lean back on his heels above her. “No need to shout.” The tease in his voice forced an impatient growl from her. He cocked an eyebrow as he toyed with the elastic waistband on his underwear, slowly pulling it down below the defined V set low on his abdomen, revealing inch after inch of smooth, tanned skin, until finally they were gone and there was nothing left between them but sexual tension and a promise of release.

Her eyes raked down his muscled body, unable to keep her hand from reaching to touch the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, reaching lower. His fingers wrapped around her wrist.

“Uh, uh, princess,” her cheeks flamed as he lifted her hand to his lips and left a tender kiss on her palm, “it’s my turn.”

She blinked and his mouth was on her. His hair, tufted at the back of his head, bobbed between her legs as he lapped up the wetness that had been pooling since they started their games tonight. Since he first leaned against her door frame, if she was being honest with herself. His lips wrapped around her clit and when he moaned around her, she saw stars. Her toes curled. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair. Her knees bent to capture his head forever between her thighs but he caught them before she could crush him with the force of her pleasure.

It might have been hours, days. He held her spread open and licked and suckled and fucked her entrance with his tongue. Careful, slow strokes to stoke the fire ripping through her veins but not enough to send her to her peak. Her thighs began shaking; her fingers knotted into his hair and held his mouth against her. His name was a holy chant in this unholy place.

“Cassian,” she sobbed as a tear rolled down her temple and into her sweat-soaked hair.

He groaned and release ripped through her. Waves of pleasure locked her body in a silent scream, her head tilted back and her mouth wide open. He kept stroking her through it, his tongue undulating against her clit over and over as her body jerked involuntarily once, twice before relaxing completely, melting into a warm, soft puddle of flesh.

There were no words. No thoughts. Nothing inside her head except for the truth of it. No one has ever made her feel like that, forced that kind of pleasure from her. Her harsh breaths were the only sound in the room as Cassian traced patterns on her inner thigh. She blinked furiously, clearing her eyes of any emotions that might betray her. Looking down, she caught his eye and his answering smile made her forget her own name.

He was looking up at her, his cheeks pink from the heat and pressure between her thighs. His hair was a fucked out mess. He looked...content. As if her orgasm was all he wanted, like he could do it again and again and not care if she ever touched his cock even though she’d never wanted anything more in her life.

But...what if he doesn't want that?

She tensed suddenly. He was an escort after all. This wasn’t his choice. What if all of this is just an act? She knew she shouldn’t care. She was a paying customer and shouldn’t care what he wanted. What his desires were. She should just take her pleasure, satiate her own desire, and leave. That had been the plan when she came here. Hell, she had just been acting when this all started.

Until he gave her the best orgasm of her entire fucking life. Until he called her on her bullshit, got naked, and got on his knees for her. Until he made her gasp his name and fucking cry for the privilege.

This was wrong. She shouldn’t—couldn’t—

I don’t deserve this.

Her breath caught in her throat. I need to get out of here.

She sat up so quickly her head spun. Her fingers caught on the restraints attached to the headboard and she recoiled. What am I doing? Why did I think this was a good idea? Cassian jerked up from between her legs at the motion, the perfect window for her to rip her legs from his vicinity and swing them to the floor.

“Nesta, what’s wrong?”

She heard him, confused, still panting, but she couldn’t find the words to answer him. The panic was bitter, the taste in stark relief to Cassian’s tongue. Stop! Where is my fucking dress? Her head swiveled frantically. A slip of navy stuck out from under the armoire in the corner. She lurched forward, grabbing and pulling on the dress that barely covered her ass, left nothing to the imagination. What have I done?

“Nesta, what is happening?” Cassian was louder this time. Loud enough to draw her eyes. He was leaning on one elbow, wide-eyed and still painfully hard. At this angle, she could see the angry red marks across his shoulder, darkening with dried blood in some places. A damning souvenir for what she had done. A claiming.

She couldn’t ignore the voice in her head. A betrayal.

“Was—” he sat up and leaned on his knees, “was it not good?” Some unfamiliar emotion danced across his eyes as he waited. She stared and stared and stared. “Did I—“ he kept hesitating, “did I not make you feel good?”

It was the doubt, thick and traitorous, in his voice that made her silently turn around and walk out the door.

------ *runs away*

tags: @sleeping-and-books @greerlunna @sjmships @cupcakey00 @queenestarcheron @awesomelena555 @mysticalunicole @lordof-bloodshed @courtofjurdan

#acotar #acosf #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #sjm #sarah j maas #nessian #nessian fic #nessian au #acotar au #acotar smut #my writing

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