#glow glisten glorious
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I made my own whipped shea butter last week and using it everyday is giving me so much unexpected joy. I made that. Then created joy. My skin and spirit are thanking me for it ✨
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Gojo’s Satoru’s obsession
A/N: Some yummy content for our glorious king 🙏👑
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, age gap implied
Gojo Satoru was obsessed with you from the moment he laid his icy blue eyes on you. He knew he needed you, in a way he couldn’t explain, you were made for him, he could feel it. Fantasies of spoiling you, kissing you and touching you forever played on his mind.
So once you finally gave the business tycoon a chance, he wasted no time making his admiration known. You haven’t been dating for long but you sure knew how he felt about you through his touchy ways.
“So how was college today princess?” He says casually, as if his tall 6’3 figure isn’t towering over you, making you hyper aware of the size difference.
You both sat on his leather sofa in his large monochromatic living room. A dim light from the crystal lamp that glowed amber.
“Oh it was okay” you manage to say with a smile. His long pale finger twirling strands of your hair, “oh yeah?” He purrs with a devious smile, as he watches your poor attempt to keep your composure, he knew his sweet girl wouldn’t last long though. Not when you’re already blushing and squirming in your seat.
He leans in closer and takes off his sunglasses as if to create more tension, before asking “you didn’t miss me too much did you?”
Trick question, he was setting you up, either answer leads to a dangerous territory.
However you couldn’t deny his scheming flirty ways and the authority he had over you didn’t turn you on. You tear your gaze away from his entrancing eyes and fiddle with his shirt, “um well..”
“Y/n~” he sings your name out when you don’t answer.
His bulge now pressing against you, you gasp from the sudden contact but that doesn’t stop him from grinding against your clothed pussy painfully slow. You feel the hardness cause friction between your sensitive area until you had a wet patch exposing your desire. You hear a stifled laugh from Gojo as he reaches down to play with the wet material. Pervert.
Suddenly you find yourself dry humping him too, chasing that delicious feeling it gave you. He smiles widely at your contorted face, eyes closed, gosh you’re so cute when he has you like this.
“Oh Gojo…” you sigh
“Say it”
“I missed you too much!” You gasp as your hands weakly attempt to pull his grey sweatpants down.
“Hey hey slow down princess, I’ll take them off for you okay? You know I’d never deny you anything right?” He says, with a soft chuckle. You nod your head in agreement.
And so as you hold eye contact with his intense gaze on you, his hands travel down, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers at once, exposing his girthy cock, pre cum glistening at his pink tip.
He gives it a few pumps with his own hand, and all you could do is stare in awe before he placed his cock into your own trembling hand, much to your surprise.
“Your turn” he says with a flirty wink, and you blink a few times, before getting to work. You knew the drill, if you wanted him inside you, you need to work for it.
Your much smaller hands pumped his now wet cock, smearing more wetness along the length, the cold feeling of the diamond bracelet he bought you touches his skin, causing him to shiver in pleasure. His hands were still entangled in your head as he let out a strangled moan. “Oh you’re so good to me y/n, such a good girl for me” he whispered.
“You deserve it don’t you?” He asks. And you know what he’s referring to. “Yeah”
“Take it off then”
Upon command, you waste no time leaving his length to undress yourself, taking off your panties to welcome him. He has a content smile as he watches you adoringly, hands behind his head.
Once you’re finally undressed, Gojo grabs you by the hips and pulls you to him to line his tip up with your folds.
Now it was a harmonious team effort of moans between you and Gojo, both immediately lost in pleasure as he pushes his length into you after promising to only ‘start with the tip’’ liar, he knew he didn’t have such self control when it came to you.
The power of his thrusts rocks your hips back and forth. At some point your screams of his name overtakes his loud moans from when you grab the white strands of his hair in desperation. Your back arches in pleasure but Gojo is quick to press you back down with just one hand.
“Can’t miss me when I’m buried inside you yeah?” He rasps as his pace quickens and you knew you were close.
You’re unable to respond as you become a whimpering mess, responding with nothing but another scream as your vision blurs. He moans as he feels his own high too, “yes yes yes that’s it, yes!” pressing himself closer to you into a mating press as you both cum, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he releases his hot white cream into you with a lewd moan.
Your chest heaves from the aftermath. But your strong, older boyfriend holds you in his warm embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, letting him press flat against you as you both catch your breath.
Once you finally escape the euphoria, you look up from Gojo’s chest to see him already staring at you with a lovesick smile. How could someone hold so much love for you after only knowing you for a while?
“Such a sweet girl” he praises as he strokes your cheek with his thumb, jokingly booping your nose just after to make you laugh.
“Forget college tomorrow, spend some time with me instead okay?“ he says pressing a kiss to your cheek as you scoff knowing damn well you won’t be able to walk tomorrow anyways.
#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x yn#jjk gojo x y/n#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#jjk gojo x you#jjk gojo x reader#jjk gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk headcanons#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk hcs#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo satoru smut#gojo smut#gojo headcanons
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Conviction
TWICE Sana & Mina
Words: 4,800
The moment they walked through the door you knew you were in trouble. Sana and Mina. The pair waltzed in like they owned the place.
And frankly they did.
When you're that famous, you're set for life as long as you do the right things and look good doing them. So those two were definitely doing that. They owned the party by the very act of walking across it.
Now what's life without a little danger? So you gave yourself a pep talk and did the opposite of everything your gut was telling you to do. It was stupid—completely and utterly stupid.
You went up to Sana and introduced yourself for no other reason besides the fact that Sana seemed like the more personable of the two.
"And who might you be?" Sana looked at you quizzically, like she couldn't have a single memory that could associate to you if she tried. It was the exact thing you expected, yet her overwhelming persona sent an arrow through your heart.
"I'm just the help." You joked and did a pretentious fake bow. Sana bursted out with laughter and your fake confidence went through the roof.
Perhaps it was your boldness, but Sana seemed to take a liking to you because soon she introduced you to Mina, and now the three of you were having quite the time.
The night wore on and you found yourself ever increasingly convinced the world's sweetest duo were looking for fun—and a little danger.
That smile you swore Sana flashed your direction every time the opportunity rose. Sometimes she would stroke and squeeze your forearm for no reason—just cooing something about how muscly you were when you questioned it, or when she'd send a wink that burned through your chest the more she looked.
Mina was much more subtle, clearly the shyer of the two, but she wasn't above being sly. Her gummy smile flashing every time you told unfunny jokes—a certain purr lacing her voice whenever you said something that should have garnered no such reaction. The slight hooking of her arms through yours and the intense stare that followed. The final coup de grâce was when she elegantly pressed her juicy peach right up against your crotch and whispered a cutesy 'oops!'—her pink cheeks giving away the actual intention of the whole ordeal.
That one you didn't need help with understanding.
The phrase that reached your ears when the party came to an end is one you will never forget.
"Room 102015," Sana whispered, cupping your groin for just a second with a wink before hooking her arm into Mina's—the glorious view of their backsides swaying side to side as they walked off without another word.
—
It took nerves of steel, but now you're finally here. Two knocks at the door of room 102015 across an achingly quiet hotel lobby that reaches back into the endless corridors of a penthouse.
"You made it..." The door is open just slightly ajar, a tantalizing gap as much a mystery as the dark veil between Sana and Mina's hotel door. A sweet lilac aroma emanates from inside, the door opens wider and wider until...
They're both there, standing there, just as beautiful as you could have ever pictured. Still in their fancy party clothes—expensive as hell and looking the part. Not a smidge of hair out of place, makeup pristine and perfect smiles plastered over their faces. You swear you can see Sana's bare shoulders glowing from the fluorescent lights, a single bead of sweat glistening under her collar.
"Follow me," Sana whispers, leaning into your space, and placing her hand into yours. Sana guides you, giving you a small glance back with a mischievous grin, those brown eyes giving way to a cheery twinkle you'll be more than happy to let drag you further astray.
"You must be wondering why you're here..." Sana already has Mina's straps off her shoulders when she says it, a quick and practiced motion she seems all too used to. "We just thought... maybe we could play with you for a little. Just the two of us... and you. Is that okay?"
A dim-lit penthouse bedroom lies astray ahead of the two, and your gut twists with so much more than butterflies. Two Japanese angels eye you and stand in wait, and you'll be damned if that isn't a look meant to seduce.
You'll follow. No matter where Sana and Mina go, you'll follow. It could very well be into the depths of hell, and you don't think you could care any less—not with them standing before you with looks so sweet and mischievous you wouldn't hesitate for a moment.
The question is mere rhetorical, Mina's dress slowly gets peeled further away by Sana's soft, pale hands. Every piece of flesh she reveals makes your chest flutter harder and faster—another part of her body for your eyes to crave and desire.
"Ooops..." Sana giggles, licking her teeth as a sliver of Mina's lingerie is revealed. Dark black silk contrasting her porcelain skin is enough to make anyone lose their heads. The lace and tightness leaves next to nothing to the imagination as her smooth tummy leads your eyes further southwards.
Sana reaches back and gives Mina a light spank and a squeeze for good measure. An indignant, embarrassed moan erupts from Mina's lips. "Look..." Sana says to you, with a sinister and impish look as she caresses Mina's flank, squeezing one of her cheeks like a thick pillow, then turning the shy girl around. "Look at how meaty Minari's ass is."
There it was, Mina's tushy, bared and flaunted right before you. A lacy g-string frames Mina's ass in all the right places, leading to a slender waist and a gorgeously wide butt that quivers the longer you stare. "Well...?" Sana coos, "do you like it?"
"I'm embarrassed..." Mina murmurs and Sana responds with a cheek pinch, then a playful little swat that doesn't seem to faze her in the slightest, save from the subsequent jiggle and subsequent whimper that fills the air.
"Just what were you planning tonight, Mina? Were you wanting our boy to see how naughty you are?"
You still can't manage to make a sound, unable to even understand just how you ended up in a place like this. You'd have imagined getting this close with any celebrity would be a near impossibility.
"Wanna know a secret?" Sana teases and hooks her fingers into Mina's waistband—the final piece of fabric keeping her from being fully exposed. "Mina might be all proper and cute, but deep, deep down... she loves being put on display like this—just begging for some attention. Don't you, baby?"
"Sa-na..." Mina whispers, and the only sign you can detect is the barely noticeable flex of her buttcheeks and thighs as you watch it. She looks over her shoulder, eyelashes fluttering—looking into your eyes and never once breaking contact while Sana finally tugs that fabric downwards and gets a moan from her best friend.
Her meaty rear quivers and jiggles as she's revealed and Sana's hands give her a tender pat with a mirthful laugh, "Yeah! Just like that!" Sana cheers and grips the cheeks apart, making Mina yelp and bite her bottom lip—it's clear they're not strangers to one another's bodies.
Mina shakes her booty from side to side, almost too close to believe. How soft those plush and fluffy pillows might feel in your hands, the prospect of sinking into her ample rear is almost as tempting as it is mad.
"Come here. We won't bite. Unless you want us to~" Sana gives a teasing giggle and Mina does her part, holding her hair over her head and striking a sexy little pose. With how seductive they were being, it's as though she really were asking to be looked at.
Not that it took much convincing to get you over here, but there was no stopping the speed you raced towards the girls as you practically pounce upon the chance. Your hands graze her supple, firm rear, sliding lower and lower—more than ready to embrace her full backside with a touch that ached for her, all this time.
"Oh? Wow. Look at that..." Mina makes a sultry laugh when she glances over her shoulder and sees a raging hard-on that struggles within your pants, "What are you going to do with that?"
Sana seems to be quite the helper, unbuttoning your pants and tugs them down. In seconds you're half naked in their company and every pair of eyes is staring straight at that raging beast. You didn't even have time to fully process just what was going on before Sana wraps her lips around it, squeezing you in her grasp—the warmth is delightful and unbeatable.
A quick and dirty blowjob—a minute at most, but by the gods it was just what you needed. Sana knows her way around a cock, so good in fact she barely gives you any time to react. When she pops off and sees the confused and pleasured face you wear, she just laughs and beckons her girl-crush forward. "C'mere, Minari. His cock's nice and ready for you now."
With an unsure sigh and a blush so adorable you'd go so far to call her shy, Mina bends over the bed. Her full, perfect butt presented at eye level, and her back so gorgeously curved into the most seductive view you'd ever laid your eyes on.
"Go ahead. You wanna fuck Minari don't you? Come get a piece of this fat tushy of hers."
Your hand comes down against her fat backside, a tentative attempt at spanking the perfect idol before you. When she responds with a soft yelp and a pout directed your way, it's all the confirmation you need. Another slap—you spank her and marvel at how quickly she gives in and wiggles her buns.
Your tip is lined up, slowly sliding down the length of her cleft, soaking in Mina's warmth and that incredible, aroused breath that rolls out from those lips of hers. If that's not the perfect indicator, nothing is—with a last squeeze to Mina's backside, you gently press forward and ease your tip in.
So much heat and warmth, every inch you penetrate Mina feels as though it melts a bit more of you away.
Sana runs her fingers down Mina's body. Starting from that thin neckline of hers, past her shoulder blades, and a caress of her arched back, finally down to her full bottom where you continue to feed Mina every inch that's her due.
"Can you feel him in you, Minari?" Sana teases and purrs—making circles and gently rolling against Mina's plump cheeks and making the horny idol stifle a breath. You can't believe what's happening: having the goddess of your fantasies wrapped around your cock and begging you not to stop would be too much of a temptation for the devil himself.
Your first thrust is a shallow one, just enough to feel that pleasant resistance she has, but also enough to give the shy Mina something that made her moan like no tomorrow. That perfect ass rolls back to your next movement, driving you further within the confines of her narrow and oh so tight walls.
The lewd look and lewd smile upon Sana's lips make the pleasure you're feeling much more intense than before, your free hand digging into Mina's asscheeks as the other tangles into her hair and holds her like reins to a horse. Mina bites her lip—face contorting, her breathing grows more ragged as the bed starts to squeak the further you push into her.
Mina starts to whine, unable to hide a slutty smile—her teeth clamping onto her bottom lip.
She moans like an angel, and her body undulates along your rhythm. "Fuck me please. Yes! Just like that... Oh, god I didn't know it would feel so good..."
Those pleading whines are the most arousing sounds that you've ever heard—satisfaction can't be ignored now. This is as close as heaven can be, with that petite little thing bent over in the most perfect, ideal, and lewd positions with a dripping wet mess of a cunt begging you to continue.
Every push is a slap against her full bubble-butt, one that makes her and Sana grunt, or moan—whichever sounds louder as you're swept by an unmistakable rush. Faster, quicker, a feverish pace to pound the sexy little diva that begs to be taken, and Sana does her best to encourage the behavior.
"Good job. Nice and deep." The petite Japanese girl strokes her lover's hair—cooing all the while as Mina is worked raw, your hips crashing into her big meaty booty like a stampede and pounding away at her insides with wild abandon.
"After Minari cums..." Sana starts to unbutton your shirt—her hot, impatient and eager hands taking no time to caress and run down your chest. "...It's my turn." Her voice lowers and she leans in. Your lips meet her sweet ones for the first time, and the hungry little minx is practically salivating—droplets of spit coat your lips—letting you take just a tiny taste of the sweetness you knew her lips hid.
"Mmm fuck…" Mina moans and pulls your attention away from that oh so tempting kiss. Your hips pick up, working overtime—Mina's groaning, squirming, her breaths coming in faster and harder the closer to her limit you bring her. "Right... there! Keep going!"
The breathy, sexy moans that grow louder and louder each time your hips smash against hers brings a clarity to this scenario—of how an absolute goddess needs your cock inside her like life itself—how Sana caresses and traces your shoulders while your focus is completely absorbed on Mina and how tightly she squeezes your shaft.
Mina holds in a scream, unable to do anything except cover her mouth as she is rocked back and forth with a furious and wild passion. Everything starts to quiver: her legs, her thighs and belly, every inch of her flesh tenses and coils until that tightly wound knot is released—there’s no stopping Mina once that limit is surpassed and she finally begins to cum.
The prim and proper princess who strikes fear into any and all men is shaking and moaning louder than anyone could ever imagine her being. Her orgasm is hard enough to leave the normally elegant and collected singer a drooling mess upon the sheets. Her sweaty bangs cling to her forehead while her hips bounce and shake while her heavenly liquid flows out.
Sana gently moves to guide you away from Mina's welcoming entrance, a giggling chide telling you to give Mina a little bit of time to rest.
"My turn now," Sana says with the wettest, cutest, and most unhinged tone she's ever used. Her lips come down on yours like the strike of a viper—her tongue snaking and wrestling with yours, drinking you in and stealing as many breaths as possible.
When she pulls away, there's nothing slow about how quickly she undresses. Unlike Mina, she had no qualms at throwing everything aside while leaving her body as the centerpiece to everything you wanted. Her fingers inch their way through her swollen clit—her small feet lift up one at a time, shuffling out her lacy thong.
"How do you want me? Doggy style, missionary?"
This woman will be your undoing, of that you are absolutely certain. The eagerness with which she asks leaves no space to comprehend a world where a drop of resistance comes from Sana.
"How bout I ride you? You spent a lot of energy fucking Minari didn't you? I could ride you if you'd like."
You'd be a fool to say no. Your back meets the bed as Sana straddles your hips, guiding her beautiful form upon yours and grinding her wet folds.
She takes a moment to pause—to make sure she has your attention. Looking deep into your eyes, the pale and pretty Sana smiles before holding your shaft and lifting her hips high, angling herself just right.
Sana slowly guides herself downwards—just enough to allow the slightest pressure, letting you sink into her hot cunt. You feel it too: the little shivers and rippling muscle tension—her wet hole contracting as her soft petals spread themselves and greet her new lover.
"Nice and slow. I'm gonna enjoy this." There's a musical tone to the way Sana moans, as though the simple sensation of your meat is enough to send the happy girl to the stars.
Her slow descent into pleasure does little to subdue the reactions her body shows, the way those well trained, dancer's thighs tense. Her lips shiver, and her lower abdomen, full of tone muscles clenches. You can tell: the second she relaxes is when your cock slides into the warm paradise that Sana is.
"Grab my tits." Sana takes your hands and guides them to her waist—gently dragging the edges of your fingers over her shapely figure. You find a tender spot on the underside, and immediately start rolling and twerking her nipple between your fingers.
Sana's always so well behaved for an idol, she keeps her lust well hidden—now, you watch as the oh so precious idol whimpers as her nipples are pinched, pulled, and tweaked by a mere nobody she found at a random party. A common plebeian like you are absolutely in no way worthy of such a gorgeous specimen that was sitting on your lap.
Sana rolls and shakes her hips, while your head tilts upwards to lock eyes with the seductive and utterly radiant woman as she pants and grits her teeth—dragging herself back up just a little, then eases down, fucking you nice and slow and keeping you steady the entire time.
A smack to Sana's pale and perfectly plump rump makes Sana squeak and giggle with delight. Every bounce and hop she takes is a test of your willpower and the last bastion to your impending loss of self-control.
"Hang on tight. Gonna really start fucking you now..." Sana rises, only your very tip is nestled in those soaked velvet walls, you groan the moment she drops and stuffs that dick back inside her tight, hot, and heavenly snatch. Sana repeats, raising herself—almost to the very brink until that delicious, dizzy moment when her hips collide back down.
Watching those bouncy, full tits jump and shake with every downward thrust sends your heart beating out of your chest. Every bit of her is unreal, so much more than just some attractive lady: it's the stuff of the gods, so enticing, so precious and sexy.
And just when you thought you couldn't handle anymore, a graceful ballerina seems to have regained her energy. Mina climbs on top of your face, her freshly orgasmed snatch oozing and dripping all over the lower half of your face, begging to be tended to.
And you certainly don't mind, no, not at all, with two soft thighs closing down around you.
"Eat me out." Mina's tone is soft and cute, a huge contrast from the dirty words that come out of her lips. Yet she has a right to command it—she looks down, her smile warm, her thighs squeezing against the side of your head.
You give her folds a long lick, she's still sensitive from her previous fuckfest. Just a simple little swipe of the tongue seems to send Mina squirming over your head—even for an idol, it'd seem like Mina has more sides to her than even you can keep up with.
"Your tits are so fun to play with!" Sana reaches around for Mina's tiny rack, never stopping her bouncing even as her head leans in to suck on Mina's neck.
She fucks you like her life depended on it, her hips not relenting for a moment—they pound and thrust at a fevered pace, moving at an absolute machine gunning rhythm of carnal pleasure. Either one of these beauties would be enough to satisfy you for the rest of life, and now you have both at the same time, a dream come true you didn't imagine you'd get a taste of.
It doesn't take long for Sana either, her sexy little noises reach a fevered peak—that giddy laugh of hers being swallowed by a stifled moan.
"I'm gonna cum. Gonna cum..." Sana whines and warns, grinding her hips into your pelvis at a crazed, fervent pace. Mina feels your tongue writhe into her at a similar pace, moaning right into your ears—a symphony of mutual orgasms coming closer and closer.
The bed squeals and quakes at an unholy level, it's a surprise no one comes rushing into the room by this point. Mina's fingers tangle themselves into your hair and pulls, coming closer and closer to the sweet climax—squeezing your skull tightly while rocking back and forth.
"Fffuuucckk. Yes, just like that."
Your legs buck and flex, the air is sucked clean out of your lungs—these two idols are in a race against each other to see just which one could cum harder. You're an observer caught in the middle—right in that final moment before it all builds up and erupts.
Sana's stomach is the first to tighten—your eyes snap open the very moment you feel a final squeeze, a climax ripping right through her sweet sexy body as she freezes atop you, her eyes closing while a final, shaky exhale rolls right off her lips. A single droplet of sweat travels down the corner of her forehead and lands upon her cheek.
Her hands pinch and squeeze Mina's dark brown nipples—it's like a switch that Sana seems all too familiar with and all too fond of tuning, as Mina follows right after, spasms rolling right up her belly the instant she receives the painful jolt.
Mina gasps, and the orgasm runs rampant throughout her body—her cheeks puffed out in a soft O-face, her eyes glazing over as her inner walls crush and wring your tongue.
They have you completely at their mercy, two tight cunts holding you hostage while they both ride that post-climax bliss.
As the orgasm subsides and their muscles loosen, they each roll off of your body. Mina's bare flesh rests by your side, and she slinks closer to you with a look you've never seen from her. You could swear it's something akin to love, but the warm smile that crosses her expression is quickly covered when her lips meet yours for the first time.
"Amazing... you really are amazing, you know." Her hands trace your chest and her feet brush against your legs, almost like the idea of personal space isn't present. She feels soft and warm, like home.
"He really is." Sana interrupts by leaning forward and pushing her lips to yours with a heated, urgent passion, tasting Mina's juices on your tongue and shuddering in joy at how it rolls around your mouth.
"Now..." The pair slink down on the bed until they're face to face with your cock. You've almost forgotten that you still haven't released, but are quickly reminded as two tongues slowly lap their way up your shaft while two pairs of hands rub and caress every inch of your thighs and stomach. "Let's give our boy something nice to think back on."
Mina giggles and takes the first dive. Her hot mouth is followed by her hand pumping the shaft in a languid manner, swirling and kneading your balls as they get nice and wet. She's lost in her work, making little moans as she gently sucks on the skin—bobbing up and down before pulling back with a satisfied pop of the lips. "You love it when Minari plays with your cock, don't you?"
"I'll take it from here." Sana reaches forward to pinch and squeeze the head and tip, then quickly follows by shoving her face close and slathering it in wet kisses, moving down the length, trailing her tongue over every little ridge and detail, a sense of urgency to get all she can in her mouth. Her hot tongue swirls, slathers the very tip while she holds Mina's hand still—sharing a smoldering look of the utmost desire, you could see the mischievous wheels turning.
They're both on your cock, licking from base to tip, holding your head between their lips as their tongues duel to see who can pleasure you more. Sana wraps a hand around Mina's face and pulls her close, and their mouths collide and move, suck and lick away—until finally their lips join together and form a circle around your tip, sucking and lashing in the most deviously skilled blowjob you ever have been and will ever receive for the rest of your life.
Nimble tongues move against you at a rapid-fire speed, giving everything they got and barely slowing even as you grunt and grow nearer. That heat, that wet feeling is too much for you to bear. The strain that had been kept under lock and key has finally broken and is about to release itself.
Fingers quickly massage and squeeze whatever spot they can reach, tugging at your sack, massaging your legs, their kiss still unmoving—despite how messy they seem to get. Saliva and fluids and God-knows-what-else makes them messy.
It hits, and your body jerks, the rush of pleasure spreading right through your nerves—and right into the wet kiss those two Japanese women share, cum spurts right into their waiting tongues as they roll around your head. They swallow, almost by reflex—pulling away, the thick strings that connect them look incredibly erotic before they quickly revert back to kissing and sharing your load.
They don't let even a single drop go wasted—licking and caressing one another in a sensual display.
You can do nothing but simply fall onto your back—all that energy spent, but with not a shred of regret left in your mind.
Two world famous idols, Sana and Mina, fuck and service a complete nobody.
"Delicious." The words slip off from Mina's mouth as a line of white clings to her swollen and saliva-ridden lips, Sana is a quick one, making it vanish in the blink of an eye as the sticky substance is slurped right off.
Mina gently rubs circles onto your leg, never letting that pretty smile fade. Sana's fingers trail a path around your chest before nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder.
"How was it? Fun? Did you have fun?" There is a lighthearted and pleasant smile to the beautiful idol you are currently tangled with.
"I had fun. Lots of fun." Mina answers for you and mirrors Sana, who nestles into the other side. Their lips press and hold to your neckline and chest, trailing hot kisses from the side to front and back, nibbling and playing with your flesh as they are enamored and drunk on your after-sex fragrance.
It's difficult for your heart not to speed up when their faces are right next to yours—their hair tickling your shoulders.
"Get lots of rest. Round two in the morning. I'm sure Chaeyoungie will have tons of things to do with you." Mina whispers into your ear before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.
Sana merely smiles and closes her eyes with a mischievous twinkle—her fingers draw slow and soft patterns across your skin and gently guide you to join those two into a deep and heavenly slumber.
You've landed yourself in heaven, there is nowhere else better to be.
...What a hell of an experience.
And so the most insane night of your life comes to an end—but with a promise that this adventure is nowhere close to being over.
You're definitely going to need some rest…
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when the sea calls for three | 2
Pairings: Azriel x Reader x Eris
Words: 5.1K
<<Previous Part | Masterlist | Summary
Summer Court
As the gentle sea breeze caressed your face, the soothing sound of waves crashing against the shore enveloped your senses. With eyes closed, you allowed yourself to be immersed in the tranquillity of the ocean, feeling a sense of home wash over you.
You missed the ocean, Dawn’s cities weren’t on the coast. Mainly inland, with dense red roofed buildings. Often you would take trips to visit the shoreline, get closer to that salty air that spoke sweet whispers to you. You wondered why your family hadn’t chosen Summer over Dawn, given your heritage. No, instead your family had settled hundreds of years ago within the walls of Dawn. Still, a beautiful choice.
Suddenly, a presence appeared beside you, you could sense and smell him without needing to open your eyes. Perhaps it was the way he smelt of the ocean too that made him so familiar. Tarquin stood beside you, his figure outlined against the backdrop of the sparkling sea. His dark skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, and his hair, a striking silver-white, caught the light as it cascaded around his shoulders.
"I thought I could sense it, you are a child of the sea," Tarquin remarked, a warm smile gracing his features as he finally acknowledged something he had sensed in your earlier meeting.
"That is somewhat true," you mused, gaze still fixed on the vast expanse of ocean before you. Your kinship with the sea was a connection that ran deep.
"It explains why I felt so comfortable around you," Tarquin continued, his smile widening as he spoke. You knew of his abilities, his affinity for water manipulation.
“Like calls to like” You smiled softly.
You liked the Summer Court. You had made that assumption when you first met Tarquin, and it rang true during your first visit. Adriata exuded a serene beauty, even in the aftermath of conflict. The azure rooftops contrasted elegantly against the pristine white stone, glistening like pearls under the sun's warm embrace.The air was fresh with the lick of the ocean, and its residents were all sun kissed by that glorious beacon in the sky.
Eager to immerse yourself fully in the Summer Court ambiance, you had opted for a slight change of attire, trading your previous garments from the Court meeting for something light, airy, typical of the Summer Court. Your tunic which had been adorned with threaded court symbols was now replaced with a white shirt that still held the motifs on the fabric. Flowing white trousers gracefully pooled around your feet, allowing the gentle sea breeze to caress your skin, providing a welcome respite from the sun's rays.
Tarquin had graciously arranged for your accommodation within the palace, situating your quarters conveniently close to Cressida, with whom you had been working closely with during your brief stay. Together with Tarquin and the royal siblings, you convened in a secluded office to address the concerns voiced by the Summer Court's inhabitants.
The submitted requests predominantly revolved around the loss of homes, the devastation caused by the war, and the collective hope for recovery and resilience. Pooling your collective knowledge and resources, the four of you meticulously strategize the most effective measures to support and uplift the people of the Summer.
However, you understood that true healing would require patience and perseverance. Perhaps what the people of Prythian needed most was to feel heard and understood on a larger scale, with you and Lucien as their appointed emissaries serving as their advocates.
Spending the majority of the second day immersing yourself in the community of Adriata, you couldn't ignore the overall feeling of sadness. The lingering scars of war still cast a shadow over the court, underscoring the urgent need to rebuild and restore a sense of security and happiness among its residents.
Despite their resilience, Adriata seemed to have borne the brunt of the conflict, second perhaps only to the turmoil in Tamlin's court. You were determined to offer whatever assistance you could, recognising the challenges they faced in comparison to other courts.
Your efforts to connect with the townspeople were met with initial hesitation, yet you sensed a glimmer of kinship, perhaps they could tell you were one of the same like Tarquin recognised. It only took a few hours before you had residents crying on your shoulder and children running around your feet, tugging you left and right begging for you to prioritise rebuilding a park that had been destroyed.
The weight of your role as emissary of peace became increasingly apparent. You weren’t just an Emissary of peace, but you were the emissary of the people– something that felt heavier in weight. A weight you were happy to shoulder.
You could feel it in your chest, that pride that seemed to swell at your newfound duty. Realising how you could make an impact.
And so you promised to yourself, and silently towards the vast ocean that you would always listen to those who sought out your help.
"Your people seem somewhat deflated," you observed, your voice carrying a touch of empathy as you turned your gaze back to Tarquin. "Your court, your palace, your people... they've endured so much loss."
Tarquin nodded solemnly, "Yes, the scars of war run deep," he agreed, his eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for hope. "But we are resilient, and with the support of the likes of you, I believe we can rebuild and thrive once more."
You offered him a reassuring smile, your confidence bolstered. "It's a priority to restore not just the physical aspects of your court, but also the spirit of your people," you affirmed, your voice brimming with conviction. "To ensure they not only feel safe but also find happiness in their home once again."
You understood the importance of nurturing the well-being of those under your care, of bringing light to the darkest corners and hope to weary hearts. "...With our collective efforts, I have no doubt that we can return Summer to all its glory," you declared, your words infused with determination.
You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your lips. Every word you spoke you truly believed.
Tarquin's gaze softened as he met your eyes, a flicker of admiration dancing in his gaze. "Your optimism is contagious," he remarked, a hint of appreciation colouring his tone. "It's refreshing to have someone like you by my side, someone who sees the potential for greatness even in our darkest moments."
“A flame will always appear brighter in the shadows…” you mused.
With that, the two of you exchanged a meaningful look, a silent vow passing between you.
༄
Night Court
You arrived at River House promptly, noting the late morning meeting time with an understanding that it was typical for the Night Court. Unlike the bustling activity you were accustomed to at Dawn, Velaris seemed eerily quiet during those early hours. You had always risen with the sun, risen at dawn. It seemed your body clock may have to change during your visits here. As you prowled through the streets, hoping to connect with some of its residents, you found them few and far between. A handful of market owners setting up stalls offered brief introductions, but for the most part, the city felt deserted, as if it were a ghost town.
Welcomed into the grand foyer by a member of staff, you waited calmly, your gaze sweeping over the opulent surroundings. Your eyes lingered on the large circular table at the centre of the room, with a large display of flowers in the middle. You gently leaned forward, eyes closing as you inhaled the sweet scent before taking in the rest of the room. The twin curved staircases that ascended gracefully upwards, adorned with paintings of the inner circle on the walls.
Cute. You mused.
You knew of Feyre’s affinity for art and painting, Lucien had filled you in and you’d done your own research too. You would not be coming into this setting blind.
Your eyes drifted over the portraits of Rhys and Feyre's family, each figure rendered in exquisite detail. Among them, your gaze settled on an image that felt oddly familiar, it was your pen pal. But as you gazed at the details it felt as though you were looking at someone you knew well, there was a simmering beneath your skin.
Why did he feel so familiar?
Captured with remarkable precision by Feyre's skilled hand, his hazel eyes bore into you from beneath the layers of paint. Their intensity, almost unnerving yet strangely captivating.
Why were you so drawn to him?
Multiple footsteps echoed through the marble floors, prompting you to delicately brush down your tunic, ensuring it lay perfectly to display the intricate symbols of the courts. The tunic was one of the same from the previous meeting, but instead of silver being the base you had commissioned another version. A dark charcoal, a nod to the night court. And you have to say the designs really did pop against the smoky backdrop.
As Rhysand and Feyre entered the foyer, their presence commanded attention, followed closely by three more figures. Among them, you recognised Azriel instantly, his piercing gaze locking onto yours.
It was the second time today that his eyes had ensnared your attention.
Cassian and Nesta followed suit, their identities obvious from Lucien's descriptions.
Azriel took you in, digesting your new look. One he couldn’t deny he liked. He enjoyed seeing you in Night Court colours– his colours.
“Welcome, y/n,” Feyre greeted with a warm smile.
"Your home is beautiful. Thank you for letting me stay here," you replied graciously, returning her smile.
A shadowy fae had swiftly taken your bags moments ago, her disappearing in silence with your belongings. You assumed she was taking them to your room.
“I just thought with us working so closely together, you being close made more sense,” Feyre explained. Despite the weight of this new chapter bearing down on the entire court, Feyre had decided to spearhead this herself. She was taking the lead, determined to prove her worth as High Lady to her people and all of Prythian.
Feyre then proceeded to introduce Cassian and Nesta. You nodded at them with a polite smile, “And of course you already know Azriel” Feyre spoke.
“Hmm I do” you hummed gently on your lips, the words rolling off in a quiet melody that seemed to make Azriel’s shadows vibrate. If you hadn’t been so enraptured by his gaze you might have noticed the smirks playing on Rhy’s and Cassian’s lips as they glanced over at the exchange.
One of Azriel’s shadows had found itself under your flowing trousers, swirling around your ankle like a gentle breeze. You wondered if Azriel knew of how fond his little minions were of you.
How they often stayed longer than necessary between correspondences, how they liked to play with your hair or how they would always dance when you hummed. Leaving them reluctant to ever leave.
You wondered if they had told him that, you also wondered what he told them.
The Inner Circle graciously showed you around the River House, leading you to the room where you would be staying during your visits. Your belongings for your short trip, already unpacked and hung in the wardrobe.
Finally, you all congregated in a large office that had been designated for your use during your visits. The office was spacious, with a large table dominating the centre of the room. You settled into a seat, surrounded by the others, who were all ready to assist you in your duties.
As part of your new role, you and Lucien had initiated a proposition allowing people from across Prythian to submit their concerns, feelings, and issues. You had worked through Summer’s submissions during your visit, as Lucien was also doing with the courts under his care. Rhys conjured multiple stacks of pages onto the table with a simple click of his finger, each page representing a submission from individuals within the Night Court.
There had to be thousands. Thank the stars Feyre had enlisted the help of her inner circle, otherwise you’re not sure the both of you would have made it through them all in one day.
You couldn't help but widen your eyes at the sight, the sheer volume of submissions taking you by surprise. Tarquin's court had been demanding, but the Night Court's submissions seemed to dwarf them in comparison.
Rhys and Feyre exchanged a glance, a hint of embarrassment colouring their expressions.
You could hear their concerns in the pauses of their breaths– Had they not been effectively managing their court? Were their people dissatisfied?
Feyre looked disheartened.
"This is a general submission, covering various concerns about the peace treaty, border movements, and trade agreements," you explained gently, seeking to alleviate any tension in the room. "It's commendable that your people feel comfortable expressing their feelings. We can't address issues if people choose to remain silent."
Feyre visibly relaxed at your words, and with that, the six of you began the arduous task of sorting through the requests, categorising them based on their content.
You’re not sure how much time had passed before light conversation spread across the room. Cassian huffing and puffing at how quickly everyone else was reading through requests, while he’d only made it through three.
Azriel was opposite you, flicking through the documents meticulously. Every now and then his gaze lingering on you before moving back to the task at hand. His shadows silently helping, by moving pages to their correct piles.
You wanted his shadows to help you. You knew if you’d asked them, they’d happily oblige. They were quite forthcoming during your correspondences, but you kept your mouth sealed and worked through the pages alone.
There had been an underlying theme to the Night Court’s residents' concerns. Similar to how Summer collectively were worried about the physical rebuilding of their home, the Night Court had their own collective issue.
They didn’t want the borders to open. They didn’t want to share Velaris.
You’re not particularly surprised, Velaris had been a secret city for years. It’s inhabitants were concerned for their safety, but of course it had also bred a rhetoric of exclusivity. They didn’t want ‘outsiders’ in their home.
Feyre seemed to become more and more uncomfortable as the pile regarding border restrictions continued to grow. You could tell Rhys was trying to comfort her, most likely through that magical mating bond– but he was failing.
“They’re pushing back Rhys…” The words left Feyre’s lips sadly. Despite how progressive Rhysand and Feyre wanted to be in this new chapter, that didn’t mean their people felt the same.
Velaris, Hewn City, the Ilyarians. Everything was so segregated, you weren’t surprised in the slightest that this type of mentality had grown.
“People are scared of what they don’t know..” You glanced up to Feyre, who was looking at you now. As were all the members of the table.
“The people of Velaris won’t be the only ones who may have reservations” You continued, laying the paper in your hand back onto the table.
“So did Tarquins people also feel this way?” Feyre asked, you could hear the desperation in her words.
Please tell me it’s not just my people who are being this hostile.
You tilted your head slightly, your lips forming a tight line. “Every court will differ in their issues… Summer’s concerns were not the same as yours.”
You knew that wasn’t what Feyre wanted to hear, her mate pulled her gently into him to press a reassuring kiss on her temple. Rhys pulled away, his expression turning serious as he narrowed his gaze on you.
“What are we doing wrong?” he asked, the weight of his question palpable in the room. The High Lord was essentially asking you where he and his family were failing. It wasn’t an easy question to address, but it seemed he wanted constructive criticism.
You rolled your shoulders back as you measured the tension in the room. Sometimes criticism could be hard to digest. Intertwining your fingers you placed your hands on the table in front of you.
“I appreciate you’ve done what you had to in order to protect your court,” you began cautiously, feeling the burning stares of all five of them on you.
But you wouldn’t let them deter you. This was a part of your job.
You continued, “But I believe there are some detrimental damages that have occurred because of it.”
You felt Nesta fold her arms beside you, and noticed how Cassian fidgeted in his seat. They were not enjoying this.
“Your people are segregated,” you said, stating the uncomfortable truth. “If you are deemed worthy enough, you can live in Velaris. If not, you are trapped in Hewn.” you emphasised this by bringing one hand to the left and your other to the right, as if metaphorically representing the two cities you mentioned.
"But that’s not how it is,” Cassian interjected, his tone defensive.
You continued, unwavering. “And then the Illyrians get the freezing mountains? You must be able to see what it looks like, you must be able to understand how it may feel to be a citizen of Hewn or an Illyrian, and look at Velaris wondering why you are not able to be a part of this.”
“Perhaps even feel you are not worthy enough to be part of this. It not only breeds an elitist mindset for the citizens of Velaris but the resentment the inhabitants Hewn city harbour must be tenfold”
Cassian's demeanour shifted, growing more defensive. “You don’t understand, that’s how it has always been. Everything we’ve done, the sacrifices we’ve made were all for the greater good.”
“Every court, every person has had to make sacrifices. Let’s not sit here and start tallying, as you will be quickly humbled to realise it is not the Night Court that has lost the most,” you countered, feeling the tension in the room rise. “Nor shall sacrifice be used as a just excuse when something is not right.”
Azriel gave Cassian a subtle look, urging him to calm down.
Taking a breath, you spoke softer this time “I’m not here to judge, we can’t change what has happened. But I won’t mince my words. The way this court has existed has allowed only a certain group to prosper, and that is a problem.”
"Feyre, if you truly wish for humans to live in your court in harmony with Fae, if you want your borders to open and those who wish to travel and move freely, then things will have to change," you emphasised, your tone earnest yet firm. "If the Fae of this land can't already coexist among each other, then I don't know how opening borders or integrating humans will even be feasible."
Feyre's eyes met yours, a flicker of realisation crossing her features as she absorbed your words. It was clear that your statement had struck a chord with her.
“Then what do you propose we do, Miss Emissary of Peace?” Azriel’s question hung heavy in the air, his eyes searching yours for a solution. But it felt like a challenge.
While Cassian’s opposition had been obvious, Azriel, ever the Spymaster, had been quiet in his disagreement. He equally hadn’t been fond of the way you challenged his High Lord and Lady’s reign, but he wanted to test you. See if that sharp wit he had encountered in your correspondence could actually follow through to something more than words.
You paused, feeling the weight of Azriel's gaze on you.
Then you turned to the head of the table “Your son,” Feyre paused, a flicker of concern crossing her face at the mention of her child. “He is of studying age?”
Feyre nodded, Rhys giving you a scrutinising look. “He has tutors, yes.”
You looked at the Shadowsinger again, your eyes narrowing as your lips quipped at the edges. You would pass his test.
“I propose a school. A school for the children of Velaris, the children of Hewn,” you said, casting a meaningful glance at Cassian, “and the Illyrian children.”
At once, objections erupted around the table. Voices clamoured, expressing doubts about Illyrian participation and concerns over mingling different communities. How only High Fae had ever been the ones to have access to education, and that other groups would most likely not even care. But your focus remained on Feyre, sensing a glimmer of interest in her eyes.
“I know how stubborn people can be, how set in their ways they become over time,” you continued, addressing the room. “So we start with the children. We show them how positive change can be. Myself and Lucein both agreed adopting a human education system would be really beneficial here in Prythian. Your court is currently the only one with the means and resources.”
Despite the protests of those around the table, Feyre remained locked on your words so you continued. Knowing exactly what you needed to say to win her favour.
“I believe every child has a right to learn, to read and write, and a chance at an education. A place they can go to where they are safe, where they will be heard. A place where they can make friends, and…I guess after all this suffering and loss, shouldn’t we give all children an opportunity to just be kids?”
The room was silent now, Rhys tilted his head with a small smirk while Feyre beside him leaned forward. Cassian had gone silent too, your words silencing any oppositions he may have had. Even Nesta seemed to be reflecting on your proposition.
It was Azriel who offered you a gentle smile, all though his gaze was still dark. You had passed then. His silent test.
“A school for all children, it would be the first of its kind in all of Prythian.” Feyre beamed, looking at her mate with a glowing expression. “And maybe we could eventually welcome the humans too…and anyone else who wanted to join.”
You nodded in agreement, your vision now becoming a shared dream with the High Lady.
“I love it,” Feyre sang, her enthusiasm contagious. “But the guys are right, the people won’t agree.”
Rhys leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. “Perhaps,” he began, his voice measured, “but we can't afford to let fear and resistance dictate our actions. This is about shaping the future of our court, for all of Prythian. Fostering unity, and breaking down barriers that have long divided us.”
As chatter filled the room, you felt any lingering tension roll off your shoulders. Another successful decision was made, one that would undoubtedly surprise Lucien when he heard about it. You had gotten the Night Court to agree to opening a school on your first day, a proposal that had originally been a part of a five year plan.
Oh, the satisfaction of being able to gloat about this when you next saw Lucie.
Feyre excitedly began to discuss curriculum, subjects that would appeal to all communities. Of course she was quick to advocate that Art classes had to be a priority, and Cassian had joined in, declaring if the Ilyarins were to ever let their children attend school some kind of defensive fighting class would have to exist. Nesta was surprisingly quick to suggest Literature, the mention of the subject blazing something alight in her eyes.
“Do you always get what you want?” Azirel asked smoothly, his question going unnoticed by his busy family.
You smirked, your gaze softening on him “Always.”
༄
You don’t belong here.
The ocean doesn’t want you, we don’t want you.
Sharp talons were clawing at your skin, dragging you down to the oceans floor.
Drown, half breed. Why won’t you drown.
Dirty blood.
There’s no home for you here.
You awaken abruptly, your heart pounding in your chest, the remnants of fear lingering like a ghost. Gasping for air, you instinctively clutch at your throat, as if the claws of your nightmares still linger there.
Ready to drag you back down to the dark void of the oceans bed.
But it wasn’t real.
No, it had been real once though. Now a distant memory.
You lay there, trying to steady your breathing. It had been years since that particular nightmare plagued your sleep. It had haunted your younger years, a relentless spectre that would always find a way to creep into your dreams.
But with time, with age, you had managed to push it aside, burying it deep within the recesses of your mind.
Yet, tonight it had resurfaced with a vengeance. Perhaps it was the discussion of differences earlier in the day that had dredged up those buried fears. The submissions filled with divisive words like ‘other’, ‘outsiders’ and ‘them’ had struck a nerve, tapping into the lingering insecurities you were sure you’d grown out of.
But being 'other' was something you had become accustomed to. It was a label you had carried with you your entire life, never quite fitting in there, never fitting in here. Always straddling the line between worlds.
The land and the ocean.
You take a moment to steal a glance towards the window, greeted by the sight of the night sky, its darkness punctuated only by the twinkling stars and the soft glow of the moon. It was still night. Yet, you were wide awake. And knowing your hosts as late risers, you had a lot of time to kill.
With a sigh, you slip out of the large bed and reach for a robe hanging by the washroom. Its smooth black silk drapes elegantly around you, not wanting to leave the room in merely a night gown. Although you doubted anyone would be awake at this hour.
The need for fresh air beckons, guiding your steps towards the balcony that adjoins the living room you had explored earlier. As you step outside, a gentle breeze caresses your skin. Taking a seat in the plush couch, you find yourself mesmerised by the panoramic view of Velaris before you. The city sprawls out in all its glory, its enchanting beauty captivating even in the darkness of night.
Before you even have a chance to fully immerse yourself in the moment, a cup and pot of tea materialise in front of you, seemingly conjured by the magic of the manor. With a grateful smile, you pour yourself a cup of the steaming liquid, relishing in its comforting warmth.
It's only a matter of moments before you sensed his presence. You instinctively knew it was him. His shadows singing a whisper that you don’t even think he had been able to hear.
"You going to lurk there all night?" you tease with a playful smile, but you don’t turn to him. Your eyes fixed on the city across the river, while you sip quietly on your drink.
Azriel, perhaps surprised that you noticed him, joins you sitting at your side. His expression is tired, his usually sharp features softened by weariness. You wonder if he, too, wrestles with his own nightmares and torments that keep him awake at night.
"I understand why you did it," you speak softly, gesturing towards the city below. "It's beautiful, worth protecting. I hope you all didn't feel attacked by my observations earlier."
Azriel offers a small, understanding smile. "You have quite a sharp tongue, but you spoke the truth."
You sat with his words for a while, silence filling the air while he poured himself a cup of tea once the house had conjured him a cup.
“You always had the intention of proposing a school didn’t you?” Azriel's inquiry was direct, his eyes probing for the truth.
“It’s something Lucien and I had discussed," you admitted, meeting his gaze steadily. "We believed this court would be the most suitable place. While I hadn’t planned on suggesting it today, the solution seemed fitting given the circumstances.” As you spoke, you realised Azriel was closer than you initially thought, his presence radiating warmth beside you that almost made you move in closer to share that heat.
“But ultimately, the plan is broader," you continued. "We envision schools across Prythian, freely accessible to those who wish to attend. Schools for the littlings, and perhaps even universities for those seeking higher education. It’s a long-term plan, but I believe it could be the perfect tie to connect all the courts."
Vassa had mentioned the existence of a university on the continent, catering to humans in their early adulthood or those seeking to resume their studies. Once you and Lucien had solidified your plan for schools across Prythian, it was Tamlin to whom you proposed the idea of a university. You sensed that his court needed a beacon of hope, something to strive for. Your suggestion had the desired effect, not that you ever had a doubt. But it was how you’d managed to pull Tamlin from his depressive state. Giving him a sense of purpose and direction.
Azriel's expression softened, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "You really have it all planned out."
“Planning can only go so far though…” You paused, your thoughts drifting to the complexities of your role. It wasn’t all rainbows and schools. As if hearing your inner concerns, a cold, gentle caress brushed across your face – his shadows.
Azriel’s eyes widened slightly, watching as his shadows acted autonomously, curling around your hair and kissing your cheek.
"Well, hello, little ones. Have you missed me?" you purred playfully, eliciting a soft vibration of excitement from the shadows as they continued to fuss over you.
A soft melodic laugh left your lips, that had them stirring again.
"They seem to like you," Azriel remarked, his voice tinged with slight disbelief as he watched the shadows' unexpected display of affection.
"What's not to like?" you teased, noticing Azriel's surprise at his shadows' behaviour. "We've grown quite friendly during our correspondences. I might even consider them my friends," you added with a smile, knowing your words would only amplify the shadows' playfulness.
Friend, friend, friend.
They seemed to chant in Azriel’s ear.
“They’ve never acted like this with anyone before…” He whispered, his hand gently reaching forward to you. You didn’t move as he pulled a shadow from your hair, his rough fingers gently grazing past your throat as he did. The small action eliciting goosebumps over your body.
For a brief moment, you could have lost yourself in that delicate interaction, but a realisation dawned upon you. What he had just said was a lie.
“They’ve never acted like this with anyone before”
Lie.
But why would he lie about that? Something so small and trivial.
You could hear it in the unspoken, under his words, what it actually revealed. There had been another.
But who?
Next part >>
a/n: ummm so what do we think? Sorry if the politics are a little boring, just trying to set the plot out! This will be a slow burn, but once it gets going we'll be off for a fab ride (I promise) Also for all my Eris lovers, he'll be coming up in the next part so do not worry - Lottie xx
#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel#acotar fanfiction#angst#acotar series#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#eris x azriel#eris x reader x azriel#eris x y/n#eris x you#eris x reader#eris vanserra#azriel x eris#azriel x reader x eris#when the sea calls for three#wtscft
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Arven nsfw anything !!! Go wild omg
OKAY YOU ASKED FOR IT.
The Earth and The Glorious Sun
nsfw arven x reader (no gendered pronouns used, but female genitals are mentioned using colloquialisms), face sitting and squirting
Arven sits there with his cheek pressed against your inner thigh, giving you the softest most glowing look in the world. It's almost too much to bear, being seen and known and loved so incredibly intimately. You want to squeeze your thighs together, but Arven's face, his chin still glistening with your wetness, is, of course, in the way.
"Please?" He asks, his voice husky and low. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips deliciously.
You roll against him just the tiniest bit at the action, still very much stimulated and ready for more of his glorious head.
"Yes." It comes out smaller than you mean it to, but the earnestness, the neediness in your tone is still there, and Arven laps it up, just as he's been lapping at you for the past who-knows-how-long. He smiles wide and eager, sitting himself up fully. He extends both hands to you and pulls you up with a shocking bit of strength. You wouldn't call your partner ripped or jacked by any means, but it's easy to forget how strong he is from years of backpacking around the region, hauling around an ungodly amount of equipment all the while.
Once you're level with one another, he kisses you deep and slow. You shudder at the taste of yourself on his tongue, and he seems to delight in your reaction, squeezing you just a bit tighter in his arms.
"I'm gonna make this so good for you, I promise." He says it with such genuine enthusiasm and boyish excitement that you can't help but believe him as you nod in numb agreement.
Arven steadies you upright and scoots himself lower between your legs until he's laying perfectly beneath you. His hands are still holding yours.
"Y-You're sure you want to do this?" You ask.
"More than anything, sweetness," He replies, squeezing your fingers between his own.
"Okay... J...Just, I dunno. Shove me off if...If you start to suffocate, okay? I don't want to hurt you." The reality of the situation is starting to hit you, and no matter how wet and dripping you are, you really want to be assured of his safety first and foremost.
Arven laughs. "It'd be one helluva way to die, but you won't."
You sigh. "Okay... Ready?"
You see Arven nod beneath you before you slowly lower yourself to hover above his face. His hands go from gripping yours reassuringly to reaching around your thighs to hold you steadily and lovingly. He cranes his neck just the slightest bit to lap at you, and you cry out at the heated sensation. He can feel your thighs tensing in his grasp.
"See, I don't think you're quite getting this, sweetness," He tells you, and you feel your face burst in blushing shame. "When I ask you to sit on my face, I don't want you to try and hold yourself here just out of reach." His fingers dig into the softness of your legs, where thigh meets hip. "I want you..." He laps at you again, making you jolt just a bit. He takes the opportunity to drag you lower. "To fucking..." He repeats, again drawing you closer. "smother me."
With a final, gentle pull, he gets you fully seated on top of his face. Your fear of crushing him is thrown from your mind, as his tongue works eager circles around and against your clit, definitely not the motion of a man in agony.
You cry out, clutching at the headboard while resisting the innate urge to grind against his face. "A-Arven..." You choke, drawing out the 'n' of his name. "So good!"
He hums against you, pleased, and the vibration of it throws in a new layer of toe curling pleasure. Without thinking, your thighs squeeze around his head, and you hear him groan against you. If not for the fact that he didn't stop his ministrations, you'd have lifted yourself up off him to be sure he was alright, but as it was, that, along with the fact that you could hear the slick sound of him tugging on his cock behind you, assured you that he is still very much enjoying himself.
His free hand untangles itself from your hips and goes to slip between your thighs. Two fingers part your lips, and Arven has to stop fucking his own fist for a moment when he feels your slick wetness slide down his fingers just at that simple touch.
You, meanwhile, are quivering above him, making soft lewd noises as Arven continues his work on your clit. He takes the sensitive bud between his lips in the lightest of kisses before he gently suckles on it. You nearly cry at the sensation, so close to the precipice of another orgasm.
"P-P-Please...Arven...Almost there, please..." Your voice is ragged and glorious in his ears.
Arven releases his hold on your clit for just a moment. "Give me just a bit longer, okay? I wanna try something..."
You have complete faith in your partner, so his hint toward experimentation doesn't stir any sort of worry in the slightest. Frustration, on the other hand, is another story. You're about to voice as much to him when he presses two of his fingers against your entrance, briefly stretching you before fucking you fully up to the base where his fingers meet his palm. Any complaint dies on your tongue in that instant, replaced instead with a drawn out moan.
Satisfied at having seemingly shut you up, Arven goes back to slowly toying with your clit using his tongue while his fingers get to work fucking you at an agonizingly slow pace.
Your cunt squeezes wantonly around his fingers with such force that he can feel the spasms against his chin. Once again, he has to stop jacking himself off for fear of blowing his load too soon. Instead, he takes that hand away from his cock and uses it to still your quaking hips as best he can. You again reaffirm in yourself the need to refrain from just grinding against Arven's face, especially when he's doing such phenomenal and precise work on you.
You just focus on the slow build of your next orgasm, panting out shaky moans of praise and Arven's name as it mounts. For his part, Arven revels in the smell, the taste, feel, and sound of you. He picks up the pace of his fingers, pressing them faster and harder into you with slowly mounting urgency. He can feel how quickly your orgasm is coming from just how needily you squeeze around him. He hums, low and satisfied as you seem to finally reach a peak. At the same time, he curls his fingers cruelly within you, pressing up hard against a spot inside you that he's grown to know very well.
The sensation on top of the crest of your orgasm has you seeing stars as you gush and burst wetly, too wetly, on Arven's tongue. If not for the headboard you were leaning against, you would have fallen forward entirely.
Arven for his part, takes you in stride, drinking you in as much as he can. His grip tightens on your hips to prevent you from leaving him or moving up, even as your pleasure subsides to oversensitivity. Every thrust of his fingers brings new wetness bursting from your tightness, splashing across his face and mouth.
Your hips stutter, and you eventually have to cry out a plea of "E-enough, pl-please..." for Arven to relinquish his hold. He maneuvers out from under you expertly, guiding you to a horizontal position on the bed where you won't be directly on top of him or the dark, wet patch he drew from you.
You're still panting when you eventually return to enough of a place to open your eyes.
"How ya feel, sweetness?" He asks, cheek propped up on his palm. In the dim light you can tell nearly his entire face is covered in a thin glisten, some of his hair is even tamped down with wetness. You feel your face heat up as your stomach ties itself in knots.
"D-Di...Did I really...?"
Arven allows himself to fall backward to lay on his back, languoring gloriously in being so covered by your cum. "You did! You were so good! It was so, so good..." He sighs happily, licking his lips. "Thank you..."
"It was okay?" You ask nervously.
Without moving, he replies. "So much more than just okay." Your gaze travels southward to see his softening cock as well as a few streaks of what looks to be his drying cum.
"Did you...?"
He follows your gaze and looks a bit embarrassed. "I, uh... I couldn't help myself, I'm sorry... You were just so...immaculate... You have to let me do that again sometime. You...you did like it, right?" He looks back to your eyes, searching for your approval.
"Oh...oh god, Arven..." You sigh. "It was amazing..." Your thighs squeeze together and you shiver a bit, still sensitive, a motion not lost on your partner. He grins cheekily at you.
"Round 2?"
"Just...just give me a few more minutes to catch my breath?"
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Sooo…I wrote another thing…
I’m still down bad for Izogie…
Chapter 1
Chapter 2, if you will…
1.4k words
Insatiable Desire
Your fingers pinch her nipples, rolling the hard buds from side to side while lifting your thigh to press into her damp heat. Her eyelids droop even lower, a moan tumbling from her lips. She’s still looking at you, peering into your soul with her lust filled slits. She’s still buried deep inside you, fingers unmoving, while she rocks her hips back and forth in a languid motion along your thigh. Everything she does is so graceful, smooth. Your hands are on the move, caressing down over the sleek rolling muscles of her stomach, inching up her sides and around her back. You grip her shoulders briefly before lightly scratching your blunt nails all the way down her back, your hands coming to rest on the swell of her hips.
“Fuuck baby…”
Her moans are like a drug, engulfing your senses, every nerve ending tingling with desire. You grip her hips as she starts to grind harder, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her pussy is already soaking wet, leaving a trail of her need in its wake as her body moved. You push down on her hips while lifting your thigh, the added pressure making her mouth fall open in a silent moan. That just won’t do, you need to hear her. Your hands are on the move again. One reaching back to grab a handful of her ass, giving it a firm squeeze, while the other ventured forward, seeking out the warmth of her heated treasure. You lower your leg a little and can’t help but smirk at the sexy whimper that leaves her.
“Let me in” you purr as you move your fingers into the path of her core.
She answers by gliding her pussy back up your thigh bringing her clit to rest on the tips of your fingers. You press against her stiff nub with two fingers, slowly working them in a circular motion, relishing in the soft moans escaping her lips, glorious sounds indeed. Your fingers abandon her clit to begin sinking slowly, soo slowly, into her drenching depths. The shared moan is intense as she begins rocking her hips again, grinding down taking you fully inside of her. This causes her fingers to move in you again, slightly in and out with her body motions. You’re still wet, sensitive, but you try to ignore the delicious sensations it’s causing within you. You squeeze her ass as you flutter your fingers against her spongy sweet spot, wanting to intensify her pleasure. By the sounds dripping from her lips, you are doing a damn good job. Her tempo increases as you begin to curl and uncurl the fingers buried deep inside her. Her essence is oozing into your hand and over your thigh, the slick creaminess an enchanting feeling. You try to scoot your hips back, away from her, you needed to focus, and her fingers were driving you slowly mad. But Izogie was having none of that.
“You wish to deny me what is mine, hm?”
Each word accompanied with a thrust as she began digging you out in earnest, her hips surging to match her feverish pace. Your mouth falls open, you are trying to respond, trying to tell her never, but only a whimpering moan manages to break free. You both can feel your walls start to clench and quiver around her, the sensations gradually overtaking you. The obscene sounds you are making are only serving to urge her on. Your orgasm inevitable, you are determined to bring her over the edge with you. You hook your fingers inside her, pressed deep, curled upon that spot you know drives her insane. The tremor you feel in the thighs locked around yours gives you some solace, because you don’t know how much longer you can hold out. Her eyes are drinking you in, poring over your writhing body, taking in every gasp, moan, tremble, and spasm. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open, wanting to witness the moment she tumbles over the precipice of ecstasy. Her chocolate skin is glistening under the glow of the scattered fire pits, enveloped in a sheen of sweat, her body is fluid, fucking on you and in you. You can’t help it, your eyes roll back into your head, another orgasm quickly running you down.
“You look so exquisite…falling apart beneath me…”
You are crumbling, your body drawing taut before wave after wave of pleasure crescendos over you. Her hips are moving at a maddening pace, chasing after her own pleasure, taking you along for the ride. Her rich moans are constant, her tremors becoming more pronounced, your warrior is oh so close, teetering on the edge. You force your eyes open to partake of the magnificent site before you, she is ethereal, her ebony skin glowing, her lithe body undulating on yours, her moans and gasps a sweet melody to your ears. You buck your hips up into hers once, and then again, sending her crashing headlong into bliss. Her head thrown back, her stomach and thighs quavering, she rides out the ebbing waves of pleasure with you, her hips and hand finally sputtering to a halt. The soft smile she is wearing melts your heart as she lifts up, slipping out of you and you out of her. As she sinks back down on your thigh, her smile turns slightly feral, and you already know where her head is at.
“No more baby, come here.”
Your plea goes unheeded, she already has your free calf in hand, guiding your leg up on her shoulder, angling her hips, inching her heated core up to hover over yours. You fit together perfectly, like you were made for each other. A whimper slips from you at the first kiss of your lower lips, the moan coming from Izogie enticing. Pulsing clit against pulsing clit Izogie grinds her body down into yours. One hand is around your thigh, using it a leverage, the other is on a meandering journey from one pert nipple to the other, alternating lightly flicking and gently squeezing and pulling the hard buds. Your hands fly out, grasping for her, one at the dip in her back, the other caressing every inch of skin you can reach. Her hips are rocking back and forth and back and forth, a ceaseless rhythm, only interrupted with an intermittent grind. Her languid body shows no signs of tiring anytime soon, but her grip tightens on your thigh, and you can feel the tremor start in her body.
“Uunnhhh…fuuck…”
Her eyes are hooded, her mouth hung slightly open, and her hips are dirty winding into yours when she cums. Her moans are like honey, thick and sweet, both of your hands are on her waist now, you’re grinding up into her, adding to her pleasure while your body is chasing yet another peak. Izogie has your leg locked against her body and she doesn’t stop, body trembling and hips slightly stuttering, she fucks you through her orgasm. You are in a dreamlike state, nothing exists but you and Izogie, the rapturous feeling she is creating with her body rippling on top of yours and the heated words tumbling from her lips percolating your senses.
“Oouuuuu…you feel so goood…”
“Soo wet for me…”
“Give it to me baby…cum with me…”
Even if you wanted to deny her, your body does as exactly as commanded. You are cumming, a moan screaming from your lips and Izogie follows you over the edge, grinding her hips down hard in a circle into you. Through your euphoric haze you can still feel her hips, still register her words.
“That’s it baby…just like that…”
“I want it all…”
Your pussy is squirting, drenching you both in your juices, your body is intensely convulsing. Her groans fill your ears, driving her hips into yours, she’s cumming again. Body atremble, spent, nerve endings still ablaze, you are a whimpering mess beneath her and at last, her hips finally come to a stall. You are weak, your muscles feel like jello, and she is barely winded. She lowers your leg to the ground and then herself down to lay half on top of you, her lips lingering on yours before making a lazy path to your ear. Her voice, silky and smooth, caressing against your ear as she greets you.
“Hello, my love” she says, nibbling at your ear lobe before pressing warm moist kisses down the length of your neck.
Déjà vu.
You might never get out of this bath.
A/N: Sooo…Let me know what you think!! The scene you say? No, unfortunately, it still has yet to make an appearance...aaand i still dont have a title lol
Izogie is insatiable AND I AM HERE FOR IT!!!
Adieu…for now….
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Who would be
A merman pirate bold,
Sitting alone,
Singing alone
Under the sea,
With a crown hat of gold,
On a throne?
Pairing - Shanks x Buggy
Length - 480 words
Rating - General/Teen
Tags - Pining, Angst, Crush
~*~
Buggy went in search of Shanks, and found the red haired pirate on the upper deck of the ship, facing out to sea.
Buggy paused.
A rare moment presented itself here, with Shanks preoccupied and unaware he was being observed.
So Buggy took that moment to watch his companion, and really look at him. His dark cloak and white shirt ruffled lightly in the sea breeze. His red hair was held down by his straw hat, a hat that glowed subtle gold in the early evening sunset.
Buggy wondered what Shanks was looking at that would draw his attention this way.
Whatever it was, he felt jealous of it.
Deep down inside him was a feeling he'd never dare say aloud, a desire for Shanks to gaze at him in this manner.
The moment was broken when Shanks began ever so subtly to turn his head, like he knew someone was there.
Buggy hastily marched forward. "And what are you looking at?" he demanded. When he got to the spot beside Shanks, he looked around at the blue sea surrounding them. Nothing but water.
"Well, what are you looking at?" Buggy asked again, looking at Shanks and finding him looking back at Buggy with a smile.
"Right now?" Shanks grinned. "I'm looking at you."
Buggy huffed. "Before that."
"Before…" Shanks turned his gaze back to the sea. "I wasn't really looking at anything. Just thinking."
"Thinking?" Buggy scoffed. "About what? How to find The One Piece?"
Shanks glanced at Buggy and smiled that secretive smile of his. That glorious yet infuriating secret smile.
Buggy realised Shanks wouldn't tell him, so he blew a raspberry at him. "Fine, have it your way," Buggy said, and spun on his heel to leave.
Shanks caught his hand before he could walk away.
"Stay and watch the sunset with me," Shanks asked.
Buggy didn't say no. He pretended to find it silly but he loved to be alone with Shanks.
They sat down on the deck side by side, dangling their legs through the wooden railing, and they watched the sun set across the sky and the glistening sea.
Buggy blew out a small raspberry at the sun. "What's so great about sunsets?" he asked.
Shanks laughed, a quiet and gentle chuckle. "Have you ever thought about it?" he asked. "There's only one sun for this whole world. That means no matter where anyone is, we'll always be watching the same sun, the same sunset. Sure, it may be at different times over different seas, but it's the same sun."
Shanks turned his smile to Buggy, a smile that could light up any dark room. "Don't you think that's wonderful?"
Buggy nodded. "Sure," he said, gazing back at Shanks. "It's wonderful."
~*~
[Many years later]
[Shanks Pirates noticing their captain sighing and staring longingly at the sunset again. Who is he sighing over they wonder.]
[Buggy version]
~*~
[Thank you for reading and here is the poem in full]
The Merman
by Alfred Lord Tennyson
I.
Who would be
A merman bold,
Sitting alone,
Singing alone
Under the sea,
With a crown of gold,
On a throne?
II.
I would be a merman bold,
I would sit and sing the whole of the day;
I would fill the sea-halls with a voice of power;
But at night I would roam abroad and play
With the mermaids in and out of the rocks,
Dressing their hair with the white sea-flower;
And holding them back by their flowing locks
I would kiss them often under the sea,
And kiss them again till they kiss'd me
Laughingly, laughingly;
And then we would wander away, away
To the pale-green sea-groves straight and high,
Chasing each other merrily.
III.
There would be neither moon nor star;
But the wave would make music above us afar --
Low thunder and light in the magic night --
Neither moon nor star.
We would call aloud in the dreamy dells,
Call to each other and whoop and cry
All night, merrily, merrily;
They would pelt me with starry spangles and shells,
Laughing and clapping their hands between,
All night, merrily, merrily:
But I would throw to them back in mine
Turkis and agate and almondine:
Then leaping out upon them unseen
I would kiss them often under the sea,
And kiss them again till they kiss'd me
Laughingly, laughingly.
Oh! what a happy life were mine
Under the hollow-hung ocean green!
Soft are the moss-beds under the sea;
We would live merrily, merrily.
~*~
#red haired shanks#shanks#shanks one piece#shanks headcanons#akagami no shanks#shanks opla#op shanks#one piece live action#peter gadiot#one piece#my edit#buggy#shanks x buggy#shuggy#shuggy fanfiction#shanks fanfiction#shanks x buggy fanfiction
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Seeing Red. | part 1 | w. maximoff series
summary: in which wanda thought she could have all that she ever wanted, but when she finally has it, it doesn’t want her.
warnings: extreme angst, some violence involving blood
this series is for 18+ only. minors: do not interact.
series masterlist | main masterlist
"What happens now?" Strange questioned in a deeply tremulous tone, a glean of sweat evident on his face which had lost its usual stoicism.
A sly smile glided Wanda's lips upwards. Red light cast upon her face and seeped through her usually green eyes, but nonetheless they sparkled insidiously. "You will go to Kamar-Taj and hand over America Chavez before sundown—peacefully. After that..." Her eyes shifted to the side and her plump lips parted as she thought of the joy she could attain once she had America's powers. "You will never see me again."
Giving Strange one last look, Wanda turned and took the Darkhold into her keep, walking away with a smile at the thought of what she would have once she could travel the multiverse. She would have you, her kids, your beautiful life together that she had created in Westview but had to tear down for the sake of keeping her humanity—and it meaning nothing. That was all behind her now, and now that she had a clear path to having you again and keeping her family together, she would do anything and destroy anyone in her way from having that fulfillment she so desperately needed in the very depths of her being.
Then she heard Strange's voice again which caused her to slow her steps and raise her glittering eyes. "And if I don't?" he dared.
Pursing her dark lips, Wanda turned around to face the nervous sorcerer with a look of sheer mortal threat.
"Then it won't be Wanda who comes for her. It will be the Scarlet Witch."
+
Wanda was tenacious in her voyage to finding you and the boys again. With the Darkhold corrupting her mind and the Scarlet Witch taking over, she had slaughtered dozens of lives without a second thought. While she could feel the blood on her hands and her heart, she was too singlemindedly focused on what she wanted and what she was determined to have.
Destroying Kamar-Taj and murdering the Illuminati was the easy part. Battling Strange over America was her only hiccup, and right when she thought she was down for the count, Strange had a slipup. He underestimated the extent of Wanda's rage, and he failed. Now, with America, Wong, and Strange's zombie corpse all laying in the valleys of Wundagore, covered in layers of snow by now, and with Strange stuck in another multiverse with no way out, Wanda was now imbued with victory, but most importantly, the power to travel the multiverse.
The torches around her throne crackled as she took a deep breath. Her lips pursed as she exhaled slowly, closing her eyes and raising her hands that glowed crimson. Envisioning the 838 Universe she had already not-so-politely visited during her journey of finding America, she pushed her right palm outward.
Red magic shot forward and penetrated the air where a portal formed. A fierce wind blowing the red ends of her hair every which way, Wanda opened her eyes to watch a buzzing portal form in the shape of her crown. Her eyes traveled over the peaks of her crown which were created first, red magic threading itself downwards to the floor almost like a door. With another push of magic from her palm, the portal opened.
A gasp left Wanda's lips. She had been fighting to the bone and dreaming of this moment ever since Westview, and now, in a glorious revelation she had begun to doubt would ever come, she looked through the portal into Universe 838.
She lowered her hands and stepped forward, her sea green eyes wide and glistening. As she entered the warm household, she saw kids' toys scattered all around the living room floor. She could hear the distant sound of her boys playing outside, but what really caught her attention was noise coming from the kitchen. Stepping further through the room, she moved past the staircase and into the kitchen where her eyes landed on something that made her heart beat for the first time in a while.
There you were, standing against the kitchen sink washing dishes. Wanda assumed that you and the boys had just had lunch, and they were in the backyard playing while you cleaned up. Tears welled in her eyes as she watched your beautiful figure. She had seen you before when she dreamwalked, but now she was really here and could touch you again, could truly be with you.
Wanda came closer, and you didn't hear her quiet footsteps because you were humming to yourself and clanking dishes around in the water. Wanda's hands felt like they were vibrating from the inside out the closer she came to you, and as she approached you with eyes full of tears and a broken heart throbbing behind her ribcage, she found the first relief she had felt in ages when she snaked her arms around your waist and pressed her face into your hair.
"Oh!" you exclaimed, jumping at the sudden feeling of Wanda hugging you. You didn't have to turn around to recognize the feeling of her arms around you and body pressed to yours. You laughed as you eased, leaning back into her. "I thought you were outside with the kids."
Hearing the boys' laughter, Wanda peered over your shoulder to look through the window that rested between the cabinets over the sink. She could see Billy and Tommy running around with a soccer ball, kicking it between their legs and trying to steal it from one another. Of course, Tommy was too fast, but Billy simply used his celeste magic to make the soccer ball fly towards himself and catch it. "No fair!" Tommy exclaimed.
A faint smile crossed Wanda's trembling lips, and a tear rolled leisurely down her cheek. She squeezed you tighter, closing her eyes and inhaling the scent of your neck.
"Well, if you weren't going to be outside supervising the children, you could have offered to do dishes," you said in a joking voice as you rinsed off the last plate before grabbing a rag and drying your hands. You squirmed in her hold, wondering why she was squeezing you so hard.
"I missed you," Wanda whispered against your skin, reveling in the feeling of having you in her arms again. She could have died right there and been happy, for as long as she had you, there was nothing she feared, not even death.
"Oh, yes, those 20 minutes sure felt like a lifetime," you joked, setting the rag down and leaning your head back against Wanda's shoulder, placing your arms over hers. Glancing down, your brows furrowed when you saw the condition of her hands that were pressed flat against your front, fingers denting into your flesh. You chuckled and took one of her hands, holding it up to examine the blackness around her fingertips. Did she get into some dirt while she was outside? Certainly not, for her fingers were pitch black from the tip halfway down to the knuckle. "What happened to your..."
It was then you noticed the sleeves on her arms. When Wanda had went outside, she was wearing her light blue sweatshirt. You hadn't heard her come in to change, in fact you hadn't heard her come in at all, and you did not recognize whatever it was she was wearing. You let your finger trail down the dark maroon fabric of the sleeve tight on her arm, seeing splotches of black where red seemingly used to be.
It had been a rough few days for your family. Wanda had been acting strange, and one night she left without telling you only to come back with a gash on her head and scratches all over her body. She had told you that she went out for a jog to clear her mind and had fallen, and while you didn't entirely believe her, you trusted her and let it go.
But what was she wearing? And why had she painted her fingers black?
"Wanda?" you whispered, and before you could voice your concerns, you heard a strange sound come from the backyard. Glancing up, your eyes widened at what you saw.
Through the window you saw Billy and Tommy still arguing over the soccer ball, but then, to your utter shock, Wanda came into view. "Boys," she scolded them gently, placing a hand over the back of their heads to get them to stop fighting.
Your lips parted at the realization that if Wanda was outside, it was not Wanda hugging you from behind. You let go of her hand as your entire body stiffened like a statue in her hold. Breath stalling, your heart began to pound in your chest in pure, unfiltered fear. You were scared to move, to turn around, but you began to slowly turn your face to the side, adrenaline pumping throughout your entire body. As your head turned, you finally saw who it was behind you.
A scream escaped your throat as you jumped away from the person, backing away as you stared up at her. While it seemingly was Wanda, it also was not. Instead of her brunette hair, she had fiery red hair that laid in wild curls over her shoulders. There was a sickly darkness around her wide eyes, and she wore some sort of tattered red suit with a horned crown resting on her forehead. Wanda had told you before about nightmares she had of herself, and what you were staring at was exactly what had been torturing your wife's sleep for months—the Scarlet Witch.
"Y/n," she whispered in a scratchy tone, looking just as frightened as you were. She extended her hands outward in a motion of assurance and came closer, but that only increased your fear.
"Get away from me!" you screamed, circling around and quickly backing away into the living room, pushing a few of the dining table chairs in her path as she followed you.
"Baby, please, calm down. It's me... It's me...," the Scarlet Witch begged you, using her magic to sharply slide one of the chairs out of her way. It was more aggressive than she had meant, the wooden chair slamming into a cabinet and knocking plates down to the floor.
She had Wanda's face and body, her eyes, her voice, but it was not your Wanda. As you looked at her, your face was full of terror, and she read that terror with a sickening sensation. What had she been expecting? She had been so caught up in her determination to find you and the boys that she forgot she was nearly unrecognizable now. But why were you so afraid? It was still her. She was still your Wanda.
As you were backing away, you tripped over the boys' scooter which was laying sideways on the ground. You stumbled and fell backwards onto your butt, and as Wanda suddenly came much closer and bent down to help you up, you kicked your legs out frantically and yelled, "Stop! Get away from me!"
Wanda jumped away from your kicks, her face falling as she felt your words hit her like a punch in the face. She was visibly hurt by your behavior, and while she had felt like herself for a moment, she could readily feel the Scarlet Witch taking over again.
"Y/n," she said in a lower voice. "Stop yelling at me."
You could see the sadness in her eyes harden into frustration as she neared you. Before she could come any closer, you heard the back door open and the sound of two little feet sprinting in. The boys, you thought to yourself in fear, your maternal instinct kicking in. As Wanda turned around at the sound of the boys running in, you quickly scrambled to your feet and grabbed the scooter, picking it and swinging it around by its handle before launching it towards the Scarlet Witch.
To your utter surprise, even with her back turned, she raised a swift hand and used her scarlet magic to halt the scooter right before it could reach her.
In a small explosion of magic, the scooter seemingly bounced right off the force of her magic and went flying towards you. You ducked out of the way as fast as you could, but the very end of it smacked you across the cheek, the metal edge cutting your skin. Letting out a cry of pain, you fell to the ground clutching your throbbing cheek. The wooden floor was cold and sturdy as a deafening, high-pitched ringing sliced through your ears from end to end. You blinked as your vision stretched, a physical echo of the blow still vibrating through your face.
Wanda swiveled around to see you on the floor, not even realizing what she had done. She was so on edge and riled up that she had ricocheted the scooter without even thinking. She was about to fall to the floor to you and desperately apologize, but the boys had just sprinted into the living room and froze upon seeing her.
The Scarlet Witch turned around and immediately grinned upon seeing her boys in all actuality for the first time, but it quickly faded when their innocent eyes glanced to you on the floor, holding the bloody gash on your cheek where the edge of the scooter had cut you from its force. Then they looked back to Wanda, and it was obvious they were conflicted, but at the mere sight of her, they started to scream.
Wanda's eyebrows furrowed. No, no, no, this is all wrong. This was not supposed to happen.
"Get away from her!" Tommy yelled first, leaning down to pick up one of his toys and chunk it at Wanda. Wanda shielded herself with her arm, but as Billy followed Tommy's lead and threw another one at her, she barely was able to shield herself.
"Boys, stop it," she said in a gentle but strained voice, but they picked up more toys and started throwing them at her. "Stop it," she said louder, her voice trembling at the feeling of her own children feeling the need to defend themselves against her. When Tommy picked up a heavier toy and chunked it right towards her face, it triggered something in her. "Stop it!
She hadn't realized how loud she had yelled until she heard her own voice echo throughout the house. Her face was red and full of rage, her eyes wide and crazed like a maniac. The boys froze in fear, dropping the toys in their hands that they had been ready to launch at her.
Then the back door opened, and Wanda’s eyes connected with herself. That universe's Wanda, having heard the screaming and commotion, ran through the kitchen and into the living room. She froze upon seeing herself, the version of herself that had been tormenting her in nightmares, standing there in front of Billy and Tommy. Behind her you were on all fours trying to recover from what just happened, looking up at your true Wanda with eyes full of fear and a bloody gash on your cheek.
Wanda quickly stepped in front of Billy and Tommy, her hands glowing red. "Get away from my family!" she exclaimed, but even as ready as she looked to fight herself to the death, she was full of terror at the sight of herself. How could she have turned into such a thing in another universe? How could she ever hurt the people she loved?
The Scarlet Witch lowered her head, eyes darkening at the sight of her other self. Logically, she couldn't have blamed herself. She knew that in any universe she would protect her family from any harm, but the Scarlet Witch did not see reason because she had spent way too much time being reasonable.
Turning, the Scarlet Witch stomped towards you. You tried to crawl away, but she leaned down and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you up to your feet. You cried out in pain, moving your hands to the back of your head to try and pry her hands out of your hair as your feet struggling to find a grip on the floor.
With her other hand, the Scarlet Witch conjured a portal that popped out of nowhere in the air behind her, a glistening red crown forming much faster than it did the first time. It glowed and vibrated with the force of her anger, and through the portal was a darkness you could not make out.
"Let go of her!" your Wanda exclaimed, throwing a red blast towards the Scarlet Witch. Her magic was caught with the witch's free hand and sent right back to her, pushing her backwards until she fell against the end of the staircase.
"Mom!" the boys screamed, running to her as she winced, the stairs having dug right into her back. Her body was still injured from what the Scarlet Witch had put her through, and as she tried to get back up to her feet, she fell down to her knees, the twins catching her and holding her up. She placed her arms in front of them and looked up at the sight of the Scarlet Witch holding you by your hair. Your eyes were full of fear, tears already streaming down them.
"Don't make this any harder for yourself," the Scarlet Witch spoke in a smooth tone, raising her chin as she stared down at Wanda. "I will let you live. You can stay here and continue your peaceful life. Just give me my boys." Her voice trembled upon her last few words, seeing the way Billy and Tommy looked at her in fear.
Wanda's lip curled as she panted from the blow of her fall. "You're not getting anywhere near my children," she growled, her eyes glowing red.
The Scarlet Witch's lips pursed in disappointment at first. She could have easily killed Wanda right then and taken the boys, but the last fragment of morality left in her refused to scar her children in such a way.
But she had a better idea instead, so said the crawling smirk on her lips.
"Fine," she lulled, yanking your hair and causing you to shriek. "Then I'll just take my wife instead."
Wanda's eyes widened as the Scarlet Witch turned around, yanking you along with her, dragging you towards the portal.
"No!" the boys screamed as they watched the witch take you towards the crown-shaped portal. Fear prompted Wanda to jump to her feet and shoot a wave of magic towards the Scarlet Witch, but she had already drug you through the portal, and right when her magic was about to hit the Scarlet Witch in the back, the portal snapped shut.
It was quiet. She saw nothing but the other side of the room. The Scarlet Witch was gone, and she had taken you with her.
"Mom!" the boys screamed, sprinting out of Wanda’s arms and to the space where the portal had been, looking around as if you might still be there.
A cry shook Wanda's shoulders. Where had she taken you? How was she supposed to find you again?
What was the Scarlet Witch going to do to you?
#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch#elizabeth olsen#lizzie olsen#lesbian#marvel#lgbt#smut#nsft#dom!wanda#top!wanda#wanda maximoff series#wanda maximoff x f!reader#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff x reader#dark!wanda#dark!fic#themidnightcrimson#seeing red
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*ೃ༄ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 [platonic]
warnings; scaramouche and reader are siblings, scaramouche kinda a PLATONIC yandere, lil bit of blood not descriptive, spoilers for inazuma archon quest and raiden ei and yae mikos voice lines, canon-typical violence.
sypnosis; doing your daily chores as a shrine maiden, you never expected to run into a stranger along the desolate path.
You never truly liked your mother.
She had her favourites, and you and your brother were most definitely not it. No, it was your glorious younger sister who was.
Your mother was busy, too busy to say hello and goodnight. Too busy to care. Too busy to simply let you be a child. To let you cry and smile and laugh, to let you run in muddy puddles and draw on the walls - no, no such intolerance would be allowed. The second you showed anything, you would so lucky not to end up like your brother: cast out, left abandoned and treated like dirt on the bottom of your mother's shoe. So, you shut down, only doing what told off you and otherwise acting invisible, it became a habit after while.
Your brother is gone, one day he and mother went out for a walk and only she returned. She refused to talk apon the subject. She seemed sour at the mere mention of his name, turning to conceal what she truly thought. You never saw your brother again, but he saw you.
Your younger sister held a similiar fate to your brother, she too disappeared on the night the sky itself got confined in it's stormy shackles. You missed her dearly, despite how she reminded you of your mother, at least your sister was there for you.
Your mother was gone now, and all that was left was thing you were meant to call your mother. Your sister.
The moment your aunt took you see her one day, you had been excited but when you laid eyes up in that husk of your sibling, you cried. And the husk watched without an ounce of sympathy - too much like your mother, too far from your sister - and your aunt had to hush you.
You had to live with this husk for 500 years. It was odd, originally you refused to be in the same room as it, but when the thing that took over the body of your sister disappeared, you would be granted with her smiles all over again. She became tolerable, until your aunt whisked you away by command of the Shogun.
Now you lived with your aunt.
It wasn't so bad here. The shrine was sacred grounds to people of Inazuma, yet you could not feel the same about it. Your aunt often caught you staring at the Sakura Tree, and you could see from your peripheral vision as her eyes would soften and then she would avoid you for a few hours. You never did much - that was what you were raised to do - and that's why you guessed your aunt often looked so miserable when she gazed at you.
You never visited the city again, not that you couldn't, you merely refused to. Your brother was taken from you, your sister - could you even be call her that anymore? - was gone and your mother had abandoned you. All you had was your aunt and these damn redwood yumemiru walls.
"Oh [name], dearest. Can you please inform the shrine maidens at the base of mountain that their shift is almost over? Thank you. "
End of discussion, without a word you left with a polite bow and gracious steps. It was like almost every day. Now, your aunt was too busy. You feared it would be the same repetitive cycle all over again as you walked down the crooked steps of the mountain. The sun had nearly set, the fortune slips that had been hung glistening in the suns glow as you walked past them. You loved the orange and yellow hues of sky, it so deeply opposed your mother's hair you couldn't help but let a smile come across your features as you looked at it.
As you reached the base of the mountain nearby to Chinju Forest, the suns warmth seemed to vanish as if it had been repelled by some invisible force. The Forest was silent as you wandered near the old shrine location, desolate of all life. Not even a Tanuki made itself known, but you supposed, maybe they had tired-out from hiding all day.
The shrine maidens weren't at their posts.
You thought for a moment, maybe they knew that the sun setting meant they could go home, but alas, they always waited for you. Maybe, they were called to the village to help with offerings. Or maybe you had pasted them on your way down the path and didn't notice.
You frowned gently before you felt a presence behind you. You were about you turn around and greet the shrine maiden, only for goosebumps to rake your arms, and this clawing darkness to hang over your head, consuming you with bone-racking fear. You could feel the eyes of the forest, or was it this mystery thing behind you, watching every twitch of your finger.
Put on a smile, said your training as you turned around. Just politely excuse yourself then vow to never set foot out of the main shrines land. Something inside of you yearned for it to be nothing, but you were never so lucky.
The other person made eye contact with you before you did and before you knew it, you were locked in this tense staring match between each other.
Purple eyes peered into your soul, despite this mans small stature, he towered over you as you averted your eyes first.
"Are you lost, sir?" You asked, if auntie heard you left someone alone without offering assistance you would never hear the end of it.
Waiting for his response you observed him, he was still staring at you. He looked so... Blank, like a fresh canvas ready to be painted only something told you that the canvas' freedom of possibilities had been smeared with a corroding soul-taking black. But, this is your paranoia over talking to a new person, for all you know he is the sweetest, most kindest man-
"No, I know this place like the back of my hand."
He did not sound happy. His face showed nothing but his clothes showed off his riches in royal purple and red robes dragged across his body which ended in shorts near his knees. Maybe.. He was a merchant wanting good luck from the shrine?
You nodded to him, you talked to him and tried to help therefore auntie wouldnt be too mad right? (Like asking one simple question is enough) You set off toward the crooked steps once again with your head low in respect as you walked past the old shrine.
"Can I help you?"
You knew he walking beside you. You could feel him without having the look at him. You couldn't even hear his foot-falls, it was as if he was dead as he took striding steps next to you. His presence was overbearing, familiar and yet so unfamiliar at the same time.
"Suppose you could help me, would you?"
Could he not get the point? It was night-time and he was asking such crytic questions, but you continued on towards the path as you answered with a fake smile, "Of course I would. It's my duty as a Shrine Maiden." - you would have continued onwards with the mantra of 'and as a follower of the Electro Archon' but you couldn't bring yourself to even acknowledge her.
"I hate liars." Rang his cocky voice throughout the slumbering trees with such low rumbling anger that you froze on the spot. But he continued on walking up the incline, almost as if oblivious to your condition as he lumbered forwards before turning around and facing you again. "Come on, [name], haven't I always told you that. "
"I.. I wasn't lying. And how did you know my name!-" you demanded, this boy was starting to annoy you, now only was he now in the way of your way home but also continued on with charade of an innocent man. Did he know you from the shrine? Maybe you had talked to him before on a busy day and forgotten-
"Whatever do you mean, you told me when you first introduced yourself."
A boy in a white robe gazed curiosily up at you, your hand clasped with your mother's as she spoke, "meet your younger sibling kunikuzushi."
You both stared at each other for a moment in awkward silence before mother squeezed your hand, too tight for your comfort. Oh, wait that's right, your supposed to- "Hello, my name is [name]. Please look after me." -introduce yourself.
Your mother let go of your hand, seemingly pleased with herself as she left the room with a small schlik sliding of the wooden door panel. You made no move to acknowledge the throbbing of your now red hand, but the boy had different ideas as he grasped it in his own to take a closer look at it.
His long purple hair rippled down his back as he turn your hand over to see the other side it. He looked so pretty but the gentle furrow of his brows upset you, it didn't suit him at all.
"It doesn't hurt, I am fine." You spoke with disdain as you snatched your hand out his gentle grasp, or tried to, as he held firmly to your wrist. He finally meet your gaze, and his gleaming eyes spoke volumes as if he was trying to decipher everything at once.
"Don't lie to me." He said with a smile as he let go your hand. A smile looked better on his face than a frown, yet you found it weird to see one. Was everyone meant to smile?
He didn't say another word to you until your mother came back.
Only now that the mysterious man that followed you could you make out any detail about his appearance. How the red of his robes seemed more and more like blood rather than paint or robes as he got closer and closer, the scent of copper hitting your nose like a truck. How his eyes glowed and his sharp features stared at you again, only different, with something you couldnt quite place within his eyes.
You stumbled back as if hit by a force, your hand launching to cradle your sore head, the another seeking something to try and stabilize your self on, when you couldn't, you tripped on the skirt of your long shrine maiden robes, landing on your bum with a thud. You hazingly blinked around, no longer seeing the young boy in a dark room but a moon-luminanted forest, what was that right now?..
You had no time to ponder as the light seemed to be taken away, so you looked see what had caused it.
That was why he was so familiar, as it clicked in your head you mumbled out his name, "Kunikuzushi... "
He clicked his tongue as he crouched before you, the moons glow still swallowed by his frame, "Took you long enough, huh. That's no good... And here I thought you were the smart one. Seems although I will just have to look after you, won't I?"
Maybe you should had listened to your gut before and not been deceived by looks of an innocent boy and be laboured by your training from your aunt. Maybe you should have plead ignorance to his arrival, or maybe you should have payed more attention to your surrondings. For if you had, surely you would have noticed the torn bloody piece of white cloth blowing in the wind attached to the fortune slip stand, left to guard the nightmare of the Balladeer.
#scaramouche#x reader#yandere scara#platonic#genshin impact#scaraboobs#fandago#aunt yae#not prood read we go down like kings
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Beautifully Wrong
***I have decided that I like these little short fics for in between my full length fics as they allow me to play with poetics. Sooooooo, I hope you all enjoy. -B***
Summary: You feel that you're ugly. Asmodeus believes that you are beautifully wrong. Ft. Chubby MC
CW: Body Insecurities/Dysmorphia, Intimate body descriptions/SFW body worship, and suggestive/sensual content(as per usual with Asmo)
It's half past midnight, and you came walking into Asmodeus's room. Normally he'd scold you for ruining his beauty sleep, but there was something in the way that you shifted nervously from foot to foot that kept his mouth shut.
"Asmo," his name so typically sweet from your lips now tainted with uncertainty. "How do you ... How do you do it?"
"Do what, love?" He asked as gently as he could.
His caution seemed to have been warranted as your bottom lip trembled as your fists clenched by your sides. "How do you love yourself?" Your breath caught as you weakly gestured to your body. "How ... How do you love me? This. All of this."
Asmodeus froze, his mind screeching to a halt.
To him the answer was simple and yet so deeply complex. How could he not love you?
Forget your stunningly brilliant personality, or the way your kindness changed the spirits of every single person you met.
You asked about your body. Your radiant, glorious body that even now was glowing in the dim candlelight of his room like the ethereal celestial deity that you were to him — regardless of the sweatpants that hid those tantalizing thighs and the stained, oversized shirt that gently caressed the peaks of each of your curves.
He was so distracted by the mere thought of you that words failed him, and in his silence you assumed the worst.
"I know, it's a strange question. And I swear, I promise Asmo, that I'm not fishing for compliments. But you and the boys are all so ... gorgeous! And you all somehow have abs and perfect teeth and perfect jaws to go with your perfect bodies and I just- I'm all rolls and stretch marks and lumps and it's disgusting!" Guilt swelled in his chest as tears glistened in your eyes like fireflies skimming the tops of lakes. "I don't understand why you'd choose me. S-Someone who's ugly a-a-and fat a-and-"
Those toxic words were suffocated under Asmo's pillow-soft kiss as he carefully took your face into his hands.
"None of that, dear." He whispered as his amber eyes searched deeply into your own for some semblance of an explanation for what could've brought this on. "Do not speak about yourself like that."
"But-"
He hushed you immediately with another paralyzing kiss as he gently set you on the edge of his bed. Your words were pulled from your tongue and stolen by his as he leaned away and left you breathless.
He tangled your fingers together and inspected each your hands as he tilted his head. "When I first laid eyes on you, I was instantly intrigued. You were frightened and new and so horribly confused, but you were also devastatingly beautiful."
You cocked an eyebrow as a frown dug at the corners of your lips. "You're just saying that. I'm fat-"
"You say that like that has to be a bad thing." He quickly counters with a peck to your knuckles. . "Yes, you have fat on your body." His expression softens as you wince at his words. "And I am so sorry your society has taught you that's a bad thing. Fat and Beautiful are not antonyms."
"I don't understand" you said, and how it hurt to see that you genuinely meant that.
"Allow me to put it this way," his fingers began to trace up your arm. "Humans have never once been able to agree on what they find, truly beautiful. Even today, in some cultures a full-bodied person is a symbol of a healthy, fortuitous person and is thus found deeply attractive. All throughout history, the image of the perfect body has changed more times than you can count on your lovely hands. So saying one body type is more attractive than the other is frankly ridiculous."
He pressed firm kisses up the length of your arm — as though murmuring his words against your skin could seal them there forever. "Putting all your worth into what a single indecisive society run by humans of all species thinks is a terrible waste of time and horrible for your skin," he couldn't help but smirk as a small laugh escaped your lips. The laughter quickly ceased as he took your chin into his grasp. "But it's clear that poisonous teaching has already gotten to you and that you truly believe what they have taught you. The issue isn't just their words anymore," he leaned forward and pecked the top of your head. "It's what's in here. Though it will take time to completely undo all you've been taught, let tonight be the first step towards proving that you are beautifully wrong about yourself."
And he did exactly that. He spent the next few hours spilling words of poetry about the body that he oh-so-loved to worship.
He painted the rolls and curves of your body as the very hills that compose of the natural wonder that you are. The acne you had, and the scars that remained, were your stars and he would spend the evening turning them into constellations if you would give him the chance.
You said that you're ugly, and the ravine-like marks that snake down ever-so-soft curves were terrible and he genuinely didn't understand how you could say such things about something that looks so fucking delicious. Each line was a teasing path that his tongue begged to trace, and if that was something you would never allow he would simply help you find love for the lightning bolts on your thighs, that you so disdainfully called thunder, through his words.
His thumb stroked the delicate curve of your jaw and neck as he thanked it for being the perfect accent to your gorgeous face and rounded cheeks.
With every word he planted a carefully placed kiss in hopes that a garden of love would grow just as strongly and beautifully as you.
And most importantly, he thanked each and every part of you for composing the timeless masterpiece that was his partner, and he prayed to whoever was listening that he could spend the rest of his days studying your artistry and committing every detail of you to memory.
***This is the closest thing to smut I have ever written, why does Asmo always bring this out? I so sincerely hope you guys enjoyed it and are liking these little snippet fics. Thanks for the love and support! -B***
TAGLIST:
@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @rul-of-demise @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21
#protective asmodeus#obey me asmodeus#shall we date asmodeus#obey me asmo#omswd asmodeus#omswd asmo#asmo centric#asmodeus centric#soft asmodeus#simp asmodeus#asmodeus x mc#asmodeus x reader#obey me asmo x mc#obey me asmo x reader#obey me asmodeus x reader#obey me asmodeus x mc#obey me x gn!mc#gn mc#gender neutral main character#obey me x gender neutral reader#cw body dysmorphia#body worship#chubby mc#avatar of lust#obey me fic#obey me fanfic#obey me#obey me shall we date#omswd#omswd fic
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snippet from the beginning of chapter 1 of blue waltz, the next installment in the echo bren fic series. it's taking forever for me to get back to working on it, so here's a little shadowhand essek vignette to tide you over. love u! thank u for reading!
...
Shadowhand Essek Thelyss moves through the world like an oil spill moves on the ocean. Which is to say: imiscibly.
Rooms are dark when he glides into them. They light up slowly on days where they forget to anticipate his silence. Otherwise, they’re very quick about it.
Flash on. Welcome, welcome. We are so terribly sorry.
That’s all his life is. Gliding into rooms. Signing papers until his fingers bleed; until the pen runs out of ink right as he’s finishing up, and he stabs his inner lip with the nib to keep from wasting even one more second on some drivel.
Frightened people flutter around him all day, and all day he sits and works and slides in and out of smoke, teleporting between buildings, operating in jet-black shadows of secrecy. Diving under and surfacing, diving under, breaking the water, over and over; a deep-sea leviathan, a glossy and frictionless serpent, a thing with no body and eyes like hard amethysts in a vacuum as he swallows everything.
He works only for that essential everything. He works for the freedom shining at the end of this: flashing white like a bird, glowing and glorious and liberating in even the thought of it. He works until he falls asleep trancing, which should be biologically impossible. He works until he’s sick of it, and purges that sickness with another day shoved like a pill down his gullet.
Sometimes the day gifts him the great medicine of patience, taking him down to a honed-in beam of focus. Sometimes he takes the day and strangles it until it stops breathing. The day takes many forms, and some of them he can kill, but some are unkillable.
Welcome, welcome.
Black rooms. Black rooms become gray in shadow, become white in the quartz-beams of light they frantically flash on in his presence. We are so terribly sorry, Shadowhand.
We didn’t hear you.
You do not make any noise.
He touches not a thing with his feet, but he holds everything in his hands.
He must believe that he does. Else he will go mad.
Black rooms become white. Eyes swivel in their sockets at him, dozens of eyes, hundreds of eyes. Always whispers, and always the sound of a chair squeaking shrilly, of a woman’s snatch of a laugh stopping short as soon as she realizes just who has entered the room.
He is the only politician in the court of the Bright Queen who has recognized the need for illumination. They keep the rooms dark when it conveniences them. Too many share the sensitivity for it, that they forget when some do not.
That is the excuse. Too many drow, too many dark-dwellers; what does it matter that the rest cannot see?
No, it is not that the courts are inconsiderate. The darkness obscures. Too many meetings he has soundlessly floated in on, only to watch the scramble, the scattering, the fumble of voices shushing and realizing their company.
The serpent dives into the black. Into slick and soluble night, into whispers and dreams of war. He holds possibilities in one hand and secrets in the other. He shines, he glides, he glistens. He never shuts his eyes to the carnage.
Turn the lights on, he says. Let us see what you are hiding.
But they only ever speak in apologies.
Terribly sorry, Shadowhand.
You do not make any noise.
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The Blacksmith
I’m so excited for you all to read this chapter! I hope you enjoy! ❤️
Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x Female Reader
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: SMUT and light violence. NSFW 18+
Links to Chapter One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One, Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three, and Twenty-Four!
Chapter Twenty-Five
Pinned against the door, Halbrand eagerly began to ravish you. Your face in both his hands, his tongue gliding over your own, his body covering you completely. He was making you weak at the knees, and if you weren't equally as hungry for him, you would probably let your arms fall to their sides, standing hopelessly as he devoured you. But your arms were on his back, holding him against you, so thankful to finally have him all to yourself. Halbrand spun you around, then kissed his way down your body, worshipping you, stopping at your ankles. Placing his hands on your boots, he began to unlace them, and you lifted your feet so he could take them off. He then ran his hands up your calves, your thighs, before cupping your ass, squeezing your cheeks, making you sigh. The next sensation you felt was his fingernails dragging down the skin of your legs, sending a delicious chill up your body, causing you to gasp. As soon as his hands reached the hem of your dress, he took hold of it, rising up off the floor to lift it off you, exposing your body to him fully.
You turned to face him then, his eyes lit up with lust as he took in the glorious sight of your naked form. Standing there breathless, you watched as he quickly removed his charcoal tunic, boots, and black trousers, tossing them aside, not concerned with where they landed. Halbrand's eyes were only on you. The sparse candlelight and flickering flames that heated the water nearby provided a stunning soft amber glow that covered you both. Luckily, the room was not occupied, a fact that didn't even register in your mind until now. You were so consumed by him. Stepping towards your love, you embraced, all skin upon skin, lips upon lips.
Without warning, Halbrand lifted you up off the floor into his arms, causing a small fit of laughter to escape you. He lowered you into the tub closest to you, before proceeding to grab pitchers of warm water, which he poured over you as you gazed up at him. The liquid felt so calming, so soothing as it cascaded over you, steam dancing up into the air from the water’s surface. Halbrand's eyes were transfixed, studying every inch of your body, the way it reacted to the water, the way it made your body glisten. He was very content, crouching beside you, pouring pitcher after pitcher into the tub. Eventually, you reached out to him, gliding your hand along his forearm. "Aren't you going to join me...?"
"Of course." he replied, "I'm just finding it hard to deny myself of this view... you are so... magnificent..."
You smiled, blushing. "Get in here."
"With pleasure, my queen." he obliged you, taking his place at the other end of the bath. You watched as he scooped some water into his hands, pouring it over his head. His hair and face dripping, his craving for you clear in his expression, Halbrand pulled you towards him closely, your legs now wrapped around each other. You raised a hand to his face, feeling his moistened skin. He turned to catch your flesh with his mouth, nipping at you, until eventually your thumb fell between his lips, his tongue on your skin causing you to gasp. As you gazed at him with desire, you gradually moved your face closer to his, your lips parted, breathing heavily. He gave your thumb one last little tug with his teeth before releasing it. Then you moved that same hand slowly along his jawline, past his ear, resting it at the back of his head, your fingers twisted in his damp hair.
Halbrand mimicked you, his hand on the back of your skull, holding you against him, your foreheads now resting together, your noses touching lightly. Letting your free hand wander beneath the water, you took his hard length in your hand, stroking it at a deliberate slow pace. Your love gasped exquisitely, immediately reciprocating with his fingers gliding between your folds, and you joined him in vocally expressing your pleasure. But it was the sweet torture of your lips grazing that threatened to undo you both. Your mouths hovered over each other, denying your tongues of contact, delaying the kiss that would inevitably happen. Your movements on each other beneath the surface increased, as did your moaning, yet despite the time that had passed with your lips barely touching, there still was no kiss. You were taken over by your pleasure, panting into each other, only able to focus on the giving and receiving of bliss with your hands. It was almost a game to see who might cave first.
Unable to resist him any longer, you moved to complete the kiss finally, but Halbrand denied you, snickering between his moans. The agony of not having his tongue wrapped around your own only caused you to pull on him faster, and harder. Perhaps you had to earn it. The sound of splashing water echoed through the washroom as your hands moved furiously upon each other. Halbrand's fingers entered you then, and unable to stop it, your tongue darted out, entering his mouth just enough to break him. He finally kissed you, and as your tongues collided, your moans became their loudest as your orgasm abruptly washed over you. The sweet friction and depth of his fingers combined with the desperate relief of his mouth finally devouring you was all too intense, your climax reached before you could stop it. Yet it was so glorious you did not care.
Still kissing you, Halbrand guided your body to lay back down, your head resting against the end of the tub. Sated, your lips moved languidly now against his as he floated above you, and you felt his erection gently against your entrance. This made you twitch, causing Halbrand to chuckle into your mouth. "Had enough, my love?" he asked breathlessly.
You laughed. "One could never.... have enough of you..."
"I was hoping you'd say that..." he spoke, before slowly entering your womanhood. Your eyes went wide, and gasping loudly, you clutched onto him as he teasingly began to move in and out of you. You could barely breath the sensation was so overwhelming. You felt your body sliding down, your face closer to the surface of the water. Halbrand soon quickened his pace, his hands white knuckling as he held tightly onto the lip of the tub. Your body moved in the water with every thrust, the splashing sound filling the air once more. As good as this felt, it was watching Halbrand's face as he approached his ecstasy that you enjoyed the most.
With only your eyes, nose, and mouth above the surface now, your love came undone, and these thrusts caused your head to sink beneath the water completely. Hearing his muffled screams through the liquid that covered you, he kept up his thrusts until he was done. The lack of air combined with the constant striking of your clit and deepest spot suddenly had you feeling euphoric once more, the water bubbling with your cries, your hips bucking up into him to meet his final thrusts as both your orgasms came to a close.
Once he stopped, you lifted yourself back above the water, taking air back into your lungs, and Halbrand's lips upon yours. He removed himself from you and the two of you sat up at opposite ends of the bath, both trying to catch your breath, living in your blissful daze. He stared at you, grinning, a chuckle escaping him. "Oh my love... how is it... that you... consistently... make me feel... this... good..."
Smiling at him dreamily you replied, "I was... going to... ask... you the same... thing..."
You both laughed and Halbrand shook his head in disbelief, unable to wipe the grin from his face. "You are... truly... everything..."
Humming happily in response, you found what little strength you had left and glided over to him, kissing him lovingly before letting your head come to a rest over his heart. Your favourite spot to lay.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
"Oi! You know there are other patrons in this establishment!? Who also need to bathe!?" came a rather unimpressed voice from the other side of the door. The two of you couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Sorry, good sir. We shall take our leave momentarily!" Halbrand called out, only getting a loud "Humph" followed by some indistinct mumbling from behind the wood. "Must this moment end?" you asked, not of Halbrand specifically, more of the universe itself.
"Come on, its getting late, we should probably head to bed anyway. I can hold you there, we can make new moments..." he spoke, kissing the top of your head.
The two of you carefully got out of the tub, drying yourselves to the sounds of more thuds on the wood. Dressing quickly, Halbrand unlocked the door, and before he could open it a very large and unseemly man barged through, half naked ready for his wash. "Have you no regard for others?" he growled.
"My apologies," offered Halbrand, attempting to pass the man.
"Pathetic, greedy, good for nothing dogs!" spat the man, a vile tone in his voice. You grabbed tightly to the hand of your love, fearing he might go astray. An anger did start to brew within his hazel eyes, but instead he took a deep breath, wished the awful man a pleasant bath, and pushed past him with you in tow. The door slammed behind you, but you both kept walking until you were secured away from the washroom and on your bed.
Garion, Olwenna, and Padrig were already in your quarters, readying themselves for sleep. "Everything alright?" asked Garion, noticing Halbrand's slightly tense demeanour. "I heard some shouting."
"It's nothing. Just some fool trying to get a rise out of us." admitted Halbrand, squeezing your hand. Garion nodded, hesitant, then smiled in spite of the uncertainty in his eyes.
"Did you... enjoy your bath at least?" pondered Olwenna, tactfully trying to lighten the mood, smirking at you.
"Aunt Olwenna, please don't!" Padrig implored, not wishing to hear any mushy talk of any kind. This made Garion laugh, and you blushed again. Halbrand just turned his face to you, answering, "Yes. Yes we did." before placing a loving and lingering kiss on your lips. You could hear Padrig retching and Olwenna joined Garion's booming laughter. Halbrand also giggled into you then, breaking the kiss so he could let the joy escape him fully, happy for the release of his tension.
"Alright, time for some shut eye. Sleep well, all." spoke Garion, moving to snuff out the lamplight. A man of his word, he took his place on the floor and Padrig climbed reluctantly into bed beside his aunt. Halbrand pulled his tunic back off, leaving his trousers on, and you snuggled up into him as he pulled the soft covers over you both, his arms wrapping around you. Gazing into his eyes, moonbeams shining through the window illuminated them beautifully. You smiled at him, sighing, content, and mouthed the words "I love you."
"I love you more." he mouthed back, wearing an identical look of happiness. And with one final tender kiss, slumber was upon you.
The fires around you were almost as bright as the sun's rays that cascaded down from on high, the smoke only now starting to gather in thickness. Chaos surrounded you both, the bloodied and beaten corpses of your people stained the earth, the monsters of this massacre no where to be found, long gone it seemed, on to pillage the next village. Your king stood to your right, clutching a sword, dark liquid dripping from hilt to tip. You couldn't make out it's colour. It was then you decided to stare down at your own hands, and they were wet with it also, your dagger gleaming. Halbrand turned to you, his face lightly splattered in it, yet you couldn't help but notice his eyes. They were his eyes, not Sauron's. Your joy at this realisation was tinged with confusion. What was going on?
It was then that she came into view. Both your heads turned simultaneously towards her as she slowly moved in your direction. The she-elf was wearing the same silver Númenórean armour you admired so, her unequalled long blonde locks flowing behind her in the wind. The same wind that somehow seemed to be blowing the fires closer to where you and Halbrand were standing. With each step Galadriel took, the heat around you increased, and you felt as if your sweat might ignite. Her expression was steel, her piercing blue eyes a weapon all their own. Yet when she finally reached you, and you felt like your body was already aflame, Galadriel's face altered, giving off a different kind of warmth, and you felt the fire around you begin to quell. You glanced at Halbrand, who was smiling at her, welcoming her presence.
Turning your gaze back to the she-elf, a feeling of peace overcame your senses. Galadriel glowed softly before you, becoming a moon in the middle of the day. Taking a single pace towards you, closing the distance between your bodies, you felt her light surround you. Part of you wanted to look at Halbrand, but another part of you wanted to forget all about him. This was an all new sensation coursing through you now, and it felt so right. Galadriel smiled at you softly, before letting her lips touch your own. There was no trace of lust or love in this gesture. It felt like something greater, an emotion without a name, something not yet invented. You kissed her back, hoping to give her in return a modicum of the sensation she had bestowed upon you.
When eventually her lips did part from yours, her eyes opened slowly, and she whispered to you in her native tongue. "Namárië, melda tári." Suddenly, all breath fled from you, and gazing down, you could only see the hilt Galadriel held in her hand, that was now drenched in your blood. You could feel the foreign object inside you, burning like the fires that had now begun to creep back in. Your eyes darted to your love, a silent plea, though there was nothing he could do, for the fire had consumed him. Halbrand stood motionless as the flames engulfed him, wearing a desolate face, accepting your fates. Galadriel raised a hand to your cheek, wiping away the tears that were falling. Her touch was soft and caring, and did not align with her violent act. Weakened by the pain, you collapsed to the ground, and as your head collided with the earth, your eyes noticed another glowing figure in the distance that could only be one being. Your mother said nothing, only raised her arm, pointing southward. Reaching out for her, her name the last thing you would ever say, as death pulled you into the black.
You woke abruptly, gasping for air, terrified at what you had just witnessed, at what you had just felt. It had been so real, so tangible, as if sleeping had transported you to a real time and place. You clutched at your gut, swearing you could still feel Galadriel's blade inside of you. This was a warning. She was getting close.
Halbrand startled awake, quickly followed by the other residents of the room, with Padrig the last to rouse, wiping his eyes slowly, yawning. Your love called out your name, taking hold of you. "What is it? Are you alright?" He was panicked. "What can I do?"
"We have to leave. Now." your tone was resolute. Halbrand searched your eyes, his face becoming stern, realising you wouldn't suggest such a thing unless it was absolutely necessary. "Galadriel." he spoke quietly, and you nodded quickly in reply.
"Galadriel? Who's Galadriel?" pondered Garion, his voice raspy from slumber. Neither you nor Halbrand acknowledged his question, only making to secure a swift exit from this inn. "You're leaving?" spoke Olwenna, yawning. "Why? It's still night? Why the need for haste?" Again you both ignored this interrogation, Halbrand grabbing your bags from the wardrobe whilst you laced up your boots. "Is this about the confrontation earlier?" Garion prodded further, not giving it up.
"Garion." You rose to your feet, standing over him where he still lay on the floor. "I meant it when I said our business is our own. Please."
"But... will you be okay?"
"They'll be fine, Olwenna." her husband interjected, starting to seem eager to let you go. "You've seen what Hal can do."
"That's not what I meant." she retorted, deeply concerned for you. You were going to miss Olwenna, you had been glad for your brief friendship.
"We will see each other again." you promised her.
"Thank you for letting us ride with you these past days." said Halbrand, offering Garion his hand. "I won't forget it."
"Nor will we you, Hal." he responded, clasping the arm of your love. You quickly both left the room, treading lightly so as not to cause any attention. In seconds you were both outside the inn, striding towards your horse, readying yourselves to continue your passage south. "Do you think our boy has had enough rest to ride at speed?" you asked.
"It has been a few days now since his last gallop. I have every confidence." replied Halbrand, giving your hand a comforting touch as you wrapped your arms around his waist. Taking off, it took you a few moments to get accustomed to the fast pace again. And as the distance started to shrink between you and the place of your hope, the darkness of the night began to give way to the dawn. Though as you rode, the light of the sun approaching, you couldn't help but feel as if this light might be coming from something else entirely.
Tagging: @starlady66 @denzit @restless-tides @heronamedhawks @coraleethroughthelookingglass @hikarielizabethbloom @michon-ne @vaguelyvibin @anemarie
#halbrand x reader#sauron x reader#halbrand/sauron x reader#halbrand#sauron#charlie vickers#the rings of power#trop#the rings of power fanfic#trop fanfic#lord of the rings#lotr
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The Master of Eris
Commission for @dbopdew
|| Link Tree || Ko-Fi || Commissions || Patreon ||
Pairing: Demiurge x Nonbinary (born female) OC written in second person
Rating: NSFW
Words: 4,082
Description: She may have offered to serve him, but that doesn't mean she'll do so... without challenging him.
The Roble Holy Kingdom had fallen.
It was gone. All of it. Only the charred remains of humans, animals, and buildings alike would be any sort of memory that would reside.
You could never forget the taste of ash, how the scent of blood weighed heavily in the air. Your bones were nearly crushed had it not been by some miracle the once sturdy frame of the home kept the heavier debris from falling upon you.
There was a mixture of emotions in how to even feel. The city wasn't exactly as glorious as it seemed.
Just like all others, it was seeded in twisted truths that you couldn't say you embraced.
And it was all over, no thanks to the doings of the Demon Lord Jaldabaoth. Even the rich couldn't use their money to sway him. He cut them all down without a care in the world.
He could not be bought.
The only memory that remained of him was the demon standing in the fires of hell, staring back at you with that eerie mask with the twisted grin.
That was all he left you with… His immortal memory.
With nothing left for you at the kingdom, you packed what very few belongings didn't burn in the fire and headed away, somewhere—anywhere—to just start anew.
You weren't even sure where you’d be welcomed. Re-Estize? Even they had suffered a horrible attack not too long ago by the so-called ‘Demon Lord’. With this Jaldabaoth on the loose, it was hard to say where it would be better. The only place that could be considered a peaceful paradise would likely be at his side—his good side.
With the stars glistening in the night sky, you found yourself able to find comfort not far from a twisted oak tree. Its mighty branches and leaves would keep you shielded from whatever would transpire through the night.
The only things you could use for a bed were 2 blankets that managed to survive the horrible war from the demon army. It was better than nothing. While you could make a fire, it wasn't too cold for you to bother.
The howling of the distant wolves made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. An inn would have been better, but affording one wouldn't be ideal now.
Eyes closed, you did your all to ignore the would-be horrors around you.
But your mind raced…raced with thoughts of that night where everything came toppling down. Amidst the screams and the crackling fire, you saw the blue and gold trimmed mask seemingly staring in your direction. The cracked, wicked grin of the mask made a shiver run down your spine as the red eyes glowed brightly.
There was a defiance within you that bubbled to the surface as the well dressed demon casually walked in your direction.
In the heat of the moment, you hadn't even realized your teeth were bared like a feral animal. Only this jumbled memory allowed you to realize what happened during those swift moments that were literal hours.
Jaldabaoth had knelt down to your level, curling his finger under your chin with a sort of smarminess to his tone when he spoke the one word, “Feisty.”
It was almost purred, in a way. Making your heart throb in a whirlpool of emotions.
All of that noise that bellowed in the back of your mind soon felt far more realistic than you could bear.
Eyes opening, you found yourself where you last remembered being. Just under the oak tree with the swaying branches catching the gentle wind. As you tried to catch your breath, you found yourself inhaling it once more as the silhouette of the devil loomed over you.
“Y-You!”
The demon stifled a scoff of sorts. “If it isn't the feisty mutt I recall back in the Holy Kingdom.”
“You…remember me?” You weren't even sure how he would. Knowing very little of demons, you knew one thing was for sure: they had select memories with humans they cared little about.
Jaldabaoth shrugged. “Mm, just never knew a human that wasn't a warrior to act so bold.”
“Yeah, well…consider it a ‘reflex’,” you insisted with a scoff.
“You’re oddly calm, facing down the maw of death.”
You expelled a vocal sigh. “I can’t say that kingdom was really worth mourning over.”
The demon expressed a curious noise.
“It was full of rich people that needed to choke on their money… Spewing all kinds of things that they didn't know anything about.” You were saying this from a personal place. But at this point, if he would kill you, there was no reason to hold back.
Jaldabaoth stifled a laugh, his gloved hand moving to the mask he wore. “Even if they never harmed you physically, you delighted in their death.”
The mask was pulled away, allowing you to see him completely. The devil’s appearance was so uncanny, but regardless, it was a thrilling sight. All those emotions came building up once more, and there was a part of you that so desperately wanted to thank him for freeing you.
“Y-Yeah… umm.. I feel like I owe you for that.”
“I didn’t do any of that for you, pet.”
Hearing such a nickname didn't make you nearly as angry as you thought it would. Even if he was saying it to be condescending.
Just as you thought the conversation would continue, or he would act violently in some manner, the demon turned once the mask had disappeared from his grip.
He was…leaving?
“W-Wait! Wait!”
“What do you want?” The question was cold and direct.
“I just…”
You weren't sure how to even talk about it. You had nowhere to go, and there was no way you would be able handle being on your own. Maybe there was something you could offer him…
“Take me with you!” It was a bold offer, but there was a part of you that couldn't be without him.
The devil’s twisted brow wrinkled at the suggestion, looking over his shoulder at you once more. “The use I’d have for you, well… I don’t think you’d have the stomach for it.” His twisted grin widened at saying such a thing, making your heart knot in your chest.
You clenched your fists, sucking in your lower lip. “How about a servant of sorts? I am sure whatever diabolical schemes you have up your sleeve, I can help you with something in terms of making your workload lighter.”
He could see the determination in your eyes. “Humans are barely allowed where I am from…” Jaldabaoth cradled his chin in thought, mind adrift elsewhere. “However, I might have a means to offer a suggestion to my Lord in allowing you to be such a thing for me.”
Seeing how wide his grin was as he spoke was only slightly unsettling. There was an invisible string tugging at your heart for some unknown reason. His words even had a sort of allure to them that was hard to ignore.
The black gloved hand of the devil unfurled, offering his palm for you to take. “Come,” he whispered eerily.
It was as though those very words had control over every bone in your body. Without thought, you accepted his hand.
“And what is your name?”
You could see the reflection of yourself in his glasses, making you catch yourself as you breathed. “E-Eris, Lord Jaldabaoth.”
He once again stifled a sound of mocking. “I go by another name, pet. Demiurge.” It was there his eyes seemed to open, allowing a sparkling shine to catch the moonlight. “Master, to you, Eris.”
The Great Tomb of Nazarick wasn't exactly the place you thought this demon would reside.
You assumed he would be a demon King of sorts, ruling over his own land without anything to keep him at bay.
But no, there was a higher evil that resided here—a Lich by the name of Ainz Ooal Gown. His presence alone made you wonder if you would be smited if you weren't careful.
Much to your surprise, you were allowed to stay—stay and work for Demiurge, your new Master.
There was only one other human you were able to find pleasant conversation with inside those walls, a young blonde girl named Tuare. She too apparently was under another’s guidance.
One your Master couldn't stand.
“Oh my… Lord Demiurge did all of that?” Tuare asked, still never in any desire to be near him personally.
You nodded. “I don't know if I feel bad about it, I hate to say.”
The innocent blonde couldn't help but be shocked by that. “Why so?”
“Every kingdom has its dark sides.” Knowing what you did about her past, you nearly tried to insist she should know better than anybody. But you didn't want to accidentally bring up old memories. “I just… have seen the worst in Roble.”
“And yet you went willingly with Lord Demiurge?”
You shrugged with a twist of your lips. “Mm, more like I offered my services to him. I mean, just like you, I had nowhere to go.”
“I suppose that’s true, but…” Tuare’s words trailed off, looking into the tea cup before her. “I could never imagine seeing peace with—.” She paused, noticing the very devil heading in her direction.
“Sebas,” Demiurge’s voice spoke in annoyance. “Don't you have other tasks your pet could be doing beyond bothering mine?”
“She isn't a pet, Lord Demiurge.” You could tell in that statement that Sebas Tian was doing his best to hold himself back from losing his temper in some manner.
“Not certain what else you would call a human of such a low standing in Nazarick,” the devil continued, making his way to your side.
“Are you saying maids are of a low standing, Lord Demiurge? That feels beyond you.” It sounded like Sebas was desperate to catch the demon in a trap of sorts.
Demiurge’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “Merely if a human stands there, Sebas. And mine was able to be granted a pardon before all of Nazarick, unlike yours—who you snuck around with.”
You could hear the leather of Sebas’ gloves tighten, but the iron butler could do nothing to retaliate.
Even yourself could say or do little to nothing to stop it from continuing.
Demiurge could taste the unease in the air, leaving him content. “This way, Eris, if you please.”
The moment Sebas and Tuare were out of earshot, you gave Demiurge a scolding look. “You really can’t stop yourself from fighting with him, can you?”
“His misery is the one I thrive the most in,” the demon confessed, arms folded behind his back.
“I thought you listened to all within Nazarick?”
His lips thinned, Demiurge expressing a frown. It wasn't the first time you had seen it, and you knew it wouldn't be the last. Even if his words and mannerisms held some sort of sway over you, it caused a part of you to fight back no matter what that meant.
Not because his tone actually puppeteered you like it once did, but because you found him attractive.
“Underneath Lord Ainz and Albedo is where I reside—everyone else is underneath me. If the tomb is under attack, then I am the leader in place of Albedo,” he reminded you.
“I still find it odd you would be so against just one in particular in Nazarick, Master.”
“It is not your concern where my trust and faith in the others resides, pet.” The title was stressed in an almost demanding tone. Without even saying a thing, it felt like silence was being ordered from you.
“It does seem like you get a bit bitter whenever I talk with Tuare. If you have an issue, it would be in your best interest to—!”
Before you could even hope to finish, Demiurge’s gloved hand grabbed at your throat and your back was soon urged firmly against the wall. The breath was knocked clean from you, and before you could even choke out a single word, the demon seemed to shift his form into something a bit more devilish.
Horns twisted upon his forehead where his black hair had receded to grant a way for them. He even seemed to grow taller, no doubt thanks in kind to the furry and twisted goat-like legs that now supported him. His nostrils flared, the heat of his sigh aggressive against your skin.
It made you bite your lower lip as you felt that rush of emotion that wanted to see him react.
“I don't have to tell you everything about me, pet,” Demiurge insisted, his thumb rubbing over your throat muscles to feel as you swallowed. “You’ll do whatever I say or you will find yourself all the more underneath me.”
Even if you saw him as your savior, that wouldn't keep you from staying in line. Even for an intelligent demon, he was quite hard headed.
“Your eyes are telling me you won’t listen.”
“I—.”
He released you, but his claw was eager to slip into the neck lining of your attire. “Then it would be in your best interest to get inside of the bedroom at this moment. It seems you still require some sort of training to keep that mouth of yours quiet…”
As if he had a magic string tailored to every part of your body, you found yourself unable to say ‘no’. While he had crafted a collar for only you to wear that would actually disobey his [Command Mantra] or even hear the pleasing hum of his words that would force you to obey, there was still something within you that was in dire need to do everything he so asked for.
And more.
In what felt like a blink of an eye, you were upon the bed with the clothing you had on prior ripped from you. Like any toy on this soil, Demiurge too treated you as such.
You were his pet to play with.
His belt slid from about his waist, the sound of such tantalizing to your ears. Walking past you, he pointed before the decorative chair he chose to sit within. “Get on your hands and knees.”
You huffed through your nostrils. “And…what if I don't wish to do that?”
His eyes opened, the crystal’s broken yet beautiful appearance made you choke on the air you attempted to breathe.
“Then I will rip the collar off that protects you from everything I say, and make you do it against your will. Are you going to behave, or must I resort to such measures?”
Doing as he asked ever slowly, Demiurge frowned his disapproval.
“You’re being slow…”
By the time you made it to one knee, he expressed his annoyance all the more.
The heel of his hoof weighed down upon your shoulder, urging you to finally fall into place.
If he wasn't so hot… I would bite his ankle at the very least, you thought. But having him dominate you in such a way was a twisted delight that you tried to keep concealed.
His legs crossed as he kept his hoof upon your shoulder as if to use you as a makeshift footrest. Demiurge’s belt bunched up in his hand, he slapped the leather upon his open palm.
Your knees nearly buckled, a knot forming in your stomach.
“Now then… for earlier…” His words trailed off as there was suddenly a harsh slap upon your exposed ass.
The leather bit violently at your skin, making you nearly crumble. “F-Fuck…!”
Demiurge was unphased. In fact, he couldn't ignore the arousing scent in the air when he did such a thing. “I doubt a single one will do,” he insisted with a fanged grin.
Only the belt biting through the air was your warning, as the leather struck upon you once more to where your chin inched closer to the ground.
“Had enough?” Demiurge asked, his thighs closing together a bit as he couldn't deny the rousing pleasure this whole exchange offered him.
“I…I thought for sure you would have…transformed or something…” You struggled to catch your breath, looking up at him to the best of your ability. Every word you spoke was having him dig his heel deeper within your skin. It was erotic, something you couldn't deny. “Aren’t… aren’t all archdevil breeds bigger than you…?”
His hooves removed themselves from your shoulder, the devil inched closer to you as he sat upon the edge of the chair. What was once a belt, he had looped it a bit in his grasp to use it almost like a whip’s handle.
It rested just under your chin.
“If I transformed fully, you would be torn to pieces,” he reminded you with a sneer. “Besides, what fun would it be if I broke my toy all too soon?”
You wanted to snap back just to be a brat about it, but a part of you wasn't even sure if he would hold himself back if you did this time.
Taking to his feet, he worked on unfastening the rest of his clothing to allow his swollen cock to greet you. “I need you to finish what you started anyways.”
This wasn't the first time you had been urged to pleasure him. However, it wasn't what you were used to seeing before.
His erection held four, fleshy ridges at the underside making you wonder if he could even shapeshift his own cock. “Kinky…” you retorted breathlessly. “Didn't know you could change your dick t—!”
Demiurge grabbed the back of your head, urging your nose to rest upon the underside of his manhood. “Am I going to have to ram this down your throat, pet?”
It was tempting to tell him to do it, but you didn't want to lose the meal you ate prior. This one time… you would behave.
Your tongue flicked against one of the fleshy abnormalities just to see if they would destroy your body in any manner. If the demon didn't have some sort of healing ability, you wouldn't trust doing this without possibly losing your tongue.
It was fine. It was like skin and not a single thing hurt. It just… left an odd tingling sensation upon your tastebuds.
“I’m waiting, pet.” The words hissed through Demiurge’s clenched teeth. Even his tail was flicking back and forth as if to send a mute warning that you were testing his patience.
Grabbing the base of his cock, you flicked your tongue over the slit of his erection before spitting on the head to lubricate the swollen organ all the better for you to even dare attempt to slide it into your mouth, let alone your throat.
A muffled growl rumbled in the demon’s throat. It was a low, pleasant sound that made your heart beat so loudly you could hear it pulsing in your ears.
You moaned in return, the action sending a sort of vibration through the demon that you could tell he quite enjoyed.
Demiurge’s thighs tensed, saliva dribbling from his maw as he gripped the back of your head and urged you to continue.
So much so, you found yourself almost choking just as you feared would nearly happen. Grabbing the base of his cock, you squeezed tightly as if demanding he calm down.
Granted, words were the only things that could reach him at times. Anything else might as well be a mute suggestion of sorts.
Demiurge’s claws moved against your scalp once more, guiding you to where you were forced to move back and forth against the swollen organ. The sounds you could make were lewd, almost pitiful gurgling noises as you tried to swallow at times whenever his manhood would push towards your throat.
Even the bits of pre-come were tantalizing when you felt it kiss your lips in passing when the devil finally removed himself.
You coughed, sputtered a bit from how rough he had chosen to be.
“And here I thought you were trained better…” He humphed. “How disappointing.”
Looking up at him, you stifled a scoff yourself. “Isn't…that the Master’s job to train the pet better…?”
Demiurge frowned at your bold choice of words. “Well then, I suppose I’ve not done a satisfactory job then, have I?”
His hand gripped upon your throat once more, urging you to look him in the eyes (which still remained squinted).
“Your task is far from over, pet. You still have something to take care of.”
With you soon upon your back, you hadn't even a second to ask what it was he had in mind. (Not that you didn't already know). With the demon’s pants pushed down past his knees at this point, his black underwear just barely cradling the underside of his cock, it was there you felt the head of it kissing upon the lips of your entrance.
Your toes curled, a strangled cry of resistance rumbling in your throat. Your whole body was tensed, as you felt him slide inside of you inch by agonizing yet blissful inch.
Demiurge’s moan quivered, a delightful euphoria that rattled him very rarely had his immortal form caged. The tight warmth of your body enveloped him, urging the beast ro start slowly only to begin picking up pace the more that your human form enticed him onward.
Your back rubbed against the carpet beneath you, the rugburns were nothing. You cared little about them. It was the steady swelling of your body adapting to this demon cock that was having you look drunk in the moment.
The euphoria was so intoxicating.
A floral paradise swelled in your gut the more it continued, as the demon thrust again and again. Even the head of his manhood could be felt kissing the entrance to your womb. Something you often ignored thinking about being a part of you.
Only he could make you remember it was there.
“Will you obey me now…pet?” The words were strained through his clenched maw. Even as he dared open his mouth to speak, he did almost look like a hungry predator ready to snatch up its prey.
“I…I!”
The harsh sounds of your thighs slapping against one another filled the room. It made your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head.
Fuck, I just… want him to continue…! you thought to yourself.
Even the fleshy ridges of his manhood were tantalizing. It was like an extra, warm touch that was urging you onward. Each one kissed upon the throbbing walls of your entrance as if to insist that you come.
And your body could hardly keep itself from doing so. Your walls wavered, giving a warning squeeze upon Demiurge’s cock to where the demon could tell you were about to do so.
He grinned widely, saliva dribbling from the corner of his lips. His grip upon your throat tightened all the more.
“Come for me, pet,” he ordered, his unnaturally long tongue slid across his lips as he spoke such a thing. “Come hard, or I will make you do it again…!”
You weren't even sure if you were going to fight that. You almost wanted to test him again, but the way he just slid all the way inside of you once more and flexed his erection, you couldn't.
The head rubbed against your upper walls, thumping it again and again to where a strangled cry erupted from your lips.
Demiurge’s thumb rubbed against your throat, and it was there you couldn't hold back as his desire to withhold your breathing just doubled everything. The euphoria erupted into a blazing inferno only he had control over.
Your walls were squeezing him for all he was worth, making the devil unable to hold back for much longer.
With a deep, throaty grunt, it was there he came heavily within you. So much so that your own body couldn't even contain it. The thick warmth bubbled inside of you, making you pant and heave with delight while your body twitched at soaking up his seed.
The devil remained within you, wanting to have you warm his cock after such a messy display. Inches from your lips, he grinned with a demonic warmth that was both charming and alluring.
“Now, you better behave yourself, pet. Or I will force you to do more.” His claw pressed against your exposed belly as he spoke.
Steadying your breathing, you asked, “A threat… or a promise, Master…?”
Demiurge growled a warning. “Don't push your luck…”
END
#nsft#demiurge x oc#nonbinary oc#commission#story commission#demon x human#oc: demiurge#writing#monster#exo#terato#bratty oc#mywriting#oreana writes#dbopdew#spicy
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Dream A Little Dream of Me fic series (Good Omens) part 3: “Could It Be Written In The Stars?”
Note: Rigil Kentaurus (Alpha Centauri A) and Toliman (Alpha Centauri B) are stars that, together, form the binary star system that is Alpha Centauri AB. To the naked eye, these two cosmic bodies appear to be a single star, and combined, they are the brightest in their entire constellation.
Alpha Centauri, before the beginning of time
Before light, there was nothing. Nothing other than God and her angels that would float about in her endless void awaiting instruction to begin the, for lack of a better term, beginning. The very start of time itself, and Crowley had been one of the many angels stationed at various spots across the entire universe, ready to breathe life into her vision.
With one simple phrase, an explosion of cosmic energy was in his presence, an endless collage of glistening stars in a diverse array of hues and brightnesses. One of which was his top priority for this corner of space, Toliman. Or, as it was known more commonly, Alpha Centauri. Though not as bright as the sun, the lone star radiated a beautiful orange glow. Dim in comparison to many of the other stars in the universe, though still breathtaking in its own way.
Regardless of its undeniable beauty, Crowley couldn’t help but question if something was missing.
“‘Bit dim, isn’t it?” He inquired as he noticed another angel take form in the space beside him.
“Excuse me?” The unidentified celestial being replied.
Its voice was unrecognizable, hardly resembling a human voice at all. They weren’t human, of course, but this multi-octave, deep yet ear-piercingly high tone was something that the humans could not handle. Thus, whenever Crowley had come across another angel on earth, they sounded just like every other human, and he had almost forgotten their somewhat frightening way of speaking until his mind brought him back to his time as an angel whenever he slept.
“Alpha Centauri, I mean, the description here makes it sound much more… I don’t know… glorious. ” Crowley said as he studied the godly scroll he had been gifted to help him bring the stars into existence.
The description had read:
Located 4.367 lightyears from where the earth shall be, Alpha Centauri will hold the brightest star of its constellation. Toliman shall shine brighter than any other star in its vicinity, and within the first 200 years of humanity and civilization, the humans shall use it to find the rest of the constellation it belongs to and name it “Centaurus.”
“Well, this is where you went wrong.” The angel stated flatly. As any angel would remind him, questioning the Almighty in any capacity was among the worst atrocities he could’ve committed in Heaven.
Crowley looked over, examining the creature beside him. It held no discernable features, wearing a white robe identical to all others at the time, and a colorless void where a face would be. The angel had no identifiable appearance, voice, or personality. Much like how he viewed the real angels up in Heaven in the present day, afraid of expressing any original thought whatsoever.
Because he’d had some amount of control over his dreams, Crowley would not allow his brain to imagine himself in the same dull, self-expressionless attire. His departure from Heaven may have been involuntary at the time, but knowing what he knew now, he would never dream of going back, even if he could. Crowley was different, and vowed never to let himself become brainwashed like the angels he once identified with. Whenever he’d come back to this place in his mind, he’d be wearing a robe of a solid black, the same as all other clothes he wore when he was awake. Clothes that he chose, and nobody could tell him not to wear.
“I know.” He muttered as he examined the differences between himself and Heaven’s view of a perfect angel: completely void of any individuality.
“But, I don’t regret it, y’know,” he continued, completely void himself, but only of any remorse regarding how he had questioned things all those years ago. “I mean, falling is the worst thing an angel could possibly go through, but, if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be… me.”
”Maybe that’s a good thing.” The empty void hissed, its threatening voice booming all around him. Crowley rolled his eyes, unphased.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I hate myself, I hate this cursed eternal existence, my life is filled with mistakes and inescapable dread, and blah blah blah…” he rattled off unseriously, “but I can’t help but wonder if it’s worse to live in complete ignorance of the pain and suffering that you help inflict onto undeserving human souls. At least as a demon, I’m aware of what I’m doing and can stop it every once in a while.”
The angel remained silent as Crowley trailed off, deep in thought about his role in human suffering and how he never wanted to be a part of it in the first place.
“You lot think that you’re so pure and good,” he sneered, “but the reality is that when you cause pain to someone trying so hard to live their life in your image, it hurts just as much as if a demon had done it.”
Unable to figure out why, he expected the angel to argue back. To challenge his way of thinking rather than doing what an angel would normally do whenever a demon questioned the will of God, smite him. Instead, the angel said nothing. The stars surrounding them began to flicker on and off like a lightswitch, and as Toliman’s orange hue began to fade into the deep and dark nothingness behind it, the angel faded as well. The deep rumbling of an ever-expanding outer space was replaced by the eerie silence of the real world at this hour. His room was almost as dark as space itself, his serpentine eyes only able to make out the faint outline of the minimal furniture surrounding him.
-
Read the rest here
#wip wednesday#good omens#aziraphale#crowley#good omens fanfic#good omens fanfic rec#alpha centauri#ao3#ao3 writer#ao3fic
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Quarry - Chapter 10
Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x f!reader
Summary: Din Djarin is on what he expects to be his last bounty hunt for Greef Karga. After all, Nevarro is swiftly moving away from its previous reputation as a Guild member’s paradise, and Din has more important concerns now, like finding a Jedi to train his mysterious foundling. However, after capturing a wanted starship engineer who would rather go anywhere other than “home,” the Mandalorian is forced to reassess his priorities.
Your taste of freedom had been brief but glorious. Now you are a prisoner of the most infamous bounty hunter in the Outer Rim – it’s only a matter of time before he turns you in. There isn’t much you would not do to keep from being sent home, but as you find yourself growing closer to your captor and his strange little companion, you start to wonder whether escape is really what you want.
Set after Chapter 13: The Jedi but before Chapter 14: The Tragedy.
Chapter Tags & Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Reader is Mando's live-in starship engineer, second-person POV, Din Djarin POV, no use of Y/N, minimal descriptors of reader character, unresolved sexual tension, pining, Din speaks Mando'a, cozy family vibes, fluff, falling in love
Series Masterlist | Read on AO3
By the last dredges of light of the setting sun, Din Djarin navigated the Razor Crest into a landing pattern, aiming for the bustling port on the outskirts of Trevi City. The air in his helmet was moist and close, his hair still damp from the shower and dripping into his cowl, down his neck. He could already feel the sensation beginning to aggravate him, but it was a price he was willing to pay. He couldn’t afford the time it would take for it to dry completely before putting his helmet back on. He needed to get off the ship, needed to get back to the hunt. Now.
He didn’t trust what he might do if he did not.
In the past, Din had assisted in the weapons training of countless Mandalorian apprentices, both when he still resided on Concordia as well as during his time with the Nevarro covert. When you had first agreed to some basic combat education, he had foolishly presumed that the experience would be no different from the many he had had before. He was confident in his methods; he knew he could make a decent marksman out of anyone willing to learn. However, he had failed to take one very important factor into account: he would have to touch you.
And touch you he did. He had felt the tension of your shoulders, the strength of your hands, the softness of your stomach. He had felt the way your breath had come short in your chest, how it had hitched under his hands, and he knew then that his touch excited you. He had even been close enough to smell you – the warmth and spice of his own soap, the salt of your sweat – clinging to your skin, your hair. It felt vital, primal, the draw he had felt to you. It had taken every ounce of discipline at his disposal to keep his concentration and to keep his touch perfunctory, professional.
And when you had finally made the shot? The way your eyes lit up, the way you beamed at him, pride spilling from you in waves. You had glowed under his praise, your skin glistening in the unrelenting sun, delicate tendrils of hair clinging to your forehead and neck. Were your cheeks darkened with the heat? Or with his attention?
After, Din had been helpless to the rush of relief that washed over him when you excused yourself to the bunk. He had barely managed to get the Razor Crest back in the air and on course before he had retreated to the refresher for some much-needed privacy, leaving Grogu to nap alone in the cockpit.
How many years had it been since he had touched himself to the thought of another person? Someone warm and real, not a risqué holovid, not some creation of his imagination?
Perhaps that explained why he had come so hard. His knees had nearly given out beneath him, leaving him weak and panting against the shower wall.
In the wake of such pleasure, there was only one thing he knew for certain. He needed to get off the Crest before he opened the bunk blast doors and showed you precisely how deeply you had come to affect him.
As the ship settled gently back onto the surface, Din powered down the engines, set the environmental controls to ambient, and scooped a still-drowsy Grogu into his arms.
“Time for me to go, ad’ika,” he murmured, cradling the boy close to his chest. The child squirmed and cooed in response, his wide, sleepy eyes half-closed as he patted Din’s helmet on the cheek. “I’ll be safe, vaabir naasad baatir ni. Nuhoyir jii.”
He continued to murmur soft reassurances into the top of the boy’s head as he descended the ladder. By the time they reached the cargo hold, Grogu’s eyes had drifted shut once more, and he had begun gently snoring.
Din took a few moments then to punch in the code for his weapons locker, restocking his various holsters and the bandolier across his chest with one hand. He clipped a set of binder cuffs to his belt, added a few ration packs and macro bars from the cooler locker to his satchel for good measure, and just as he was starting to debate waking you before departing, the bunk doors slid open, and you slipped out.
Something in the Mandalorian’s chest softened at the sight of you, clearly fresh from sleep. Your cheek was marked with creases from the pillow, your jumpsuit impossibly rumpled. Your bright eyes were bleary, unfocused, and you were starting to push strands of unbound hair out of your face when your eyes landed on him. For a moment, you simply held his gaze, a flush rising up your neck that he could feel mirrored under his flight suit.
As you opened your mouth to speak, however, he raised a single finger to his helmet in a silent, shushing gesture. You obeyed, saying nothing, but quirked an eyebrow at him in response. Din turned slightly, allowing you to see Grogu’s sleeping form supported with one arm, nestled snuggly into his breastplate, and a tender smile bloomed across your face. The softness in his chest warmed at the sight, at the plain evidence of your fondness for his foundling.
Tossing your disheveled locks over your shoulder, you whispered, almost too soft to hear, “Want me to take him? Looks like you’re heading out.”
He nodded. “Please.” He watched as you gently slipped your hands around the boy’s body, one under his rump and one around the back of his head, and lifted him out of the crook of Din’s arm. You clutched the little bundle of brown robes to your chest so naturally, Grogu melted so easily against the now-familiar comfort of your body, and that warm softness became an almost physical ache behind the bounty hunter’s ribs. Unbidden, words he had not considered in decades echoed in the back of his mind.
Mhi ba’juri verde.
The final vow of the Mandalorian marriage pledge. We will raise warriors.
Something like panic rose in his throat at the realization, and Din took a step back, breaking your gaze. He couldn’t possibly begin to unpack such a thought, not when his blood was still up from earlier, not when you looked so soft, so sweet. There was a hunt he had been neglecting for the better part of two days in favor of spending time with you. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time.
“Do you know how long you’ll be gone this time?” you murmured, pulling him out of his racing thoughts and back into the present.
Din shook his head and busied himself with closing the weapons locker, refusing to meet your eyes. “Depends if the quarry is still in the city. The fob says he’s close, but I’ll need to investigate further. They aren’t always the most…precise,” he replied, keeping his voice as soft as he could while still registering on his vocoder.
He watched you nod at the edge of his peripheral vision, your mouth turning down a bit at the corners. “Okay. Um…if it’s all right with you, I might spend some time while you’re gone working on the hull?” Your soft voice quirked up at the end, phrasing it like a question rather than a statement.
“Of course. This spaceport is fairly well guarded, and there are plenty of maintenance crews around, so no one should bother you while you’re outside.” He paused, taking a moment to rummage around in his satchel as though looking for something, then added, “Just…don’t go into the city, and keep the ground defense systems on just in case.”
“I will,” you agreed earnestly. “And Mando?”
Din’s gaze snapped to yours before he could think better of it, the single utterance of his moniker from your mouth stronger than any unease he currently felt about the…evolving state of your relationship. You offered him a hesitant smile, and there was something warm but somehow also uncertain in the tightness around your eyes. It was an expression that looked rather out of place on you. It had been weeks since you had spoken to him with anything other than confidence and ease, and it made him want to smooth his fingers over your brow.
“Yes?”
The Mandalorian watched as your throat worked around an anxious swallow. “You…you be safe, too. Okay?” you whispered.
He could have sworn he felt his heart swell in his chest at that. Maker, you were so good. Too good for him. Voice thick and rough with emotion, he replied, “I’ll do my best, gotabor’ika.”
He could tell from how you quirked your eyebrow at him that you weren’t particularly satisfied with that response, but you didn’t push it. You simply nodded once and offered him a little wave with the fingers currently cradling the back of Grogu’s wispy-haired head. However, when Din raised his hand to do the same, a flash of white out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.
Glancing down at the source, his gaze landed on a scrap of creamy, floral-patterned fabric now poking out of the top of his satchel, and recognition shot through him at the sight. Apparently, he had unearthed it from the bottom of the bag when he had been rooting through it, trying desperately not to look you in the eye, lest somehow you sense the hunger in his heart. It was the scarf he had bought for you at the bazaar. He had yet to give it to you.
He pulled it from the bag, running the pad of his thumb across the delicately embroidered vines and flowers dancing along the edge. Before he could allow himself to second-guess the gesture, he beckoned you forward with a flex of his fingers. You obeyed instantly, trustingly, and with his pulse racing, blood roaring in his ears, Din gently draped the scarf over your shoulder, near where the collar of your jumpsuit gave way to the smoothness of your neck. The heel of his palm caught on the soft curve of your jaw as he withdrew his hand, and he knew he couldn’t have imagined the way your eyes drifted shut at the contact or the way your cheek darkened under his glove.
There was a question in your eyes when you opened them, but before you could ask, he murmured, “For your hair, to protect it from your welding helmet. Thought you might be in need of a new one.” He permitted himself the briefest moment to touch you again, caressing the very end of a strand of your hair just as he had the scarf. “The pattern…it looked like something you would like.”
You drew your lower lip between your teeth, your bright eyes glossy and burning with emotion as you seemed to struggle with a response. “It’s perfect, Mando,” you eventually whispered. Your fingers fidgeted on Grogu’s back, on his head, as though itching to reach for the cloth now nestled against your neck. “I love it. Thank you.”
Din inclined his helmet at you, the soft smile stretching across his face completely hidden by its beskar façade. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back. Ret’urcye mhi, gotabor’ika.”
The smile you offered him that time was full and genuine, and with the image of it still burned into his mind, the Mandalorian slipped as quietly as he could out of the Razor Crest and into the black night beyond.
___
The next few days proved to be an exercise in keeping your mind and body occupied. After so many months on the Razor Crest, stretches of time spent with no one but the child for company were commonplace. When Mando was on a hunt, your work typically kept you busy enough, and Grogu was a delightful companion – good-humored, inquisitive, mischievous but in a way you usually found endearing rather than aggravating. This time, however, you struggled.
You had never felt Mando’s absence so keenly before.
The ship felt hollow, too silent and too empty without the sound of his heavy boots on the deck plating, the gleaming breadth of his pauldrons peaking around the edges of the pilot’s chair. You missed the warm gruffness of his vocal modulator as he asked you questions about your projects or demonstrated how to read an astrometric chart to Grogu. You missed dodging him in the ‘fresher or outside the bunk, constantly dancing around him as you each tried to care for your own basic needs without imposing on the other. And unlike in the past, no amount of ship maintenance work you manufactured for yourself seemed to be enough to keep the thoughts at bay.
Concern for his safety. Longing for his presence. Nothing short of hunger for his touch, a burning need for the weight of his hands on your body. It all made the simplest tasks into a challenge, and by the third day of incessant distraction, even your little, green friend began to grow visibly annoyed at your absent-mindedness.
In an attempt to get yourself back on track (and to hopefully provide some entertainment for the stir-crazy Grogu), you decided you would take him up with you onto the top of the Crest for your next repair. You had never worked on that part of the hull before, but your latest structural integrity diagnostic had revealed a handful of weak spots clustered along the base of the port wing. Perhaps the boy would appreciate the change in scenery. And perhaps it would be enough novelty to keep you focused for more than a handful of minutes. Gathering a few scrap sheets of durasteel, your fusion welder, and a cannister of epoxy armor into a bag and strapping Grogu to your back in his leather carrier, you climbed up and out of the unused astromech socket and emerged onto the roof.
The sun in Trevi City was scorching and bright, steadily baking the reflective metal surface beneath your feet until waves of blurry heat were visible to the naked eye. It would be nearly unbearable to touch, you realized, but you never started on a project without the appropriate protective gear. Unclipping the carrier, you swung the child around to the front of your body and settled him, still inside it, in a secure little nook made by two curved sections of hull plating. The thick, padded leather would keep his skin from touching the surface, and he would be better situated to watch you work from the ground anyway. Pulling a pair of heat resistant gloves out of your back pocket, you tugged them over your hands and unrolled your sleeves from around your elbows until they covered your forearms.
Your hair, of course, was already taken care of; you had hardly removed the scarf Mando had gifted you since the night he left.
Once you were geared up and certain of Grogu’s safety, you settled into your work – identifying the stress spots, mapping out the most efficient size and placement for the reinforcements, and beginning to cut the sheets of durasteel, narrating as you went. At first, it seemed that your plan was working perfectly. The boy seemed to be enjoying himself – he cooed and grunted and babbled endlessly, his big ears wiggling in interest as he followed the sparks of your fusion welder – and you were able to immerse yourself in your task in a way that felt like a relief after days of nothing but distracted pining.
Your peace, however, was not to last.
After what felt like about an hour, you rose from your crouch against the wing and flipped up the shield of your welding helmet.
“Want to take a break, kiddo?” you asked, rolling your head side to side on your shoulders, feeling your cramped neck muscles pull and stretch. Grogu seemed to nod at that, and one of his little, clawed hands came up to drag across his wrinkled forehead, as though wiping away sweat. You smiled wryly at the gesture. “You’re not kidding. It’s hotter than a Jawa’s armpit up here, huh?” You could feel your own perspiration dripping down your face, gathering in the fabric at your collar. “Let’s go back inside for a bit and get some water. We can finish this later this afternoon.”
You took a step forward, your arms extended in front of you in anticipation of picking him up. However, your foot never made contact with the roof.
It all happened quickly after that. The heel of your boot glancing off the cylindrical cannister of epoxy armor laying at your feet. Your foot flying forward, your balance completely thrown. The lurch and stumble backward as you attempted to catch yourself, the sharp decline of the forward half of the wing buckling your opposite ankle in the struggle. The dull impact of the durasteel rushing up to meet you, the cloudless blue sky and the sun in your eyes as you began to rapidly slide down the angled surface on your back.
You were falling off of the roof, the slick, scalding surface unforgiving beneath your scrabbling hands.
Your eyes slammed shut on instinct, you heard a scream, and you wondered if it had come from your own throat. You couldn’t tell. Perhaps it had been you, perhaps a bystander in the port, but it hardly mattered. There was nothing now, nothing but the sickening sensation of dropping, and then –
– floating.
So unexpected was this sudden change that you wrenched your eyes open, and the yelp that erupted from your mouth at what you saw was entirely involuntary.
You were hovering in mid-air, suspended halfway between the Razor Crest’s wing and the harsh pavement below as though by a rope around your ribcage. Your head, shoulders, and arms hung limp, as did your legs, but you could feel an invisible…something supporting your torso, holding you there. It wasn’t painful, not how it would be if you truly had been hanging with your full body weight on a rope or a harness, but it was disorienting. You felt your stomach roll, immediately unsettled by the complete lack of gravity. However, before the adrenaline or the nausea could even begin to subside, you felt the softest, gentlest tug, and just like that, you were rising back up through the air toward the roof of the ship.
Every panicked, primal instinct in your body urged you to fight the sensation, to wiggle and kick and try to pull away – this was bizarre, unnatural, wrong – but as you crested the edge of the wing, your eyes met Grogu’s, and you felt all of the unease melt from your muscles only to be replaced with an overwhelming sense of awe.
Gone was his typically pleasant, curious expression. Instead, the boy’s wrinkled brow was furrowed, his dark, beetle-like eyes hard with concentration. Still strapped into his carrier, he had both of his tiny hands extended out in front of him, his fingers curved and tense. As he stared intently at you, you felt that gentle but inexorable force around your torso pull you toward the center of the ship’s roof, far from the edge of the wing where you had fallen, but closer to him.
Your eyes widened at the sight, any breath you may have had left in your lungs swiftly leaving.
“G-Grogu?” Your voice sounded like little more than a hoarse whisper to your ears. Was he…
Was he doing this?
And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. That invisible force brought you back down out of the air and settled you almost tenderly onto the hull’s surface, rattled and a bit ill but somehow, miraculously, unharmed.
The moment your back made contact with durasteel, that sensation around your torso disappeared, and you watched as the child’s hands dropped helplessly at his sides, his wide, round eyes fluttering.
“Grogu!” you cried, struggling to your feet. You swayed precariously, having not yet regained any real sense of equilibrium, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. This boy – this sweet, precious boy – your boy – may have just saved your life, and now he looked to be on the verge of losing consciousness.
Clutching onto the leather of his carrier with weak, shaking fingers, you tugged him toward you. “Hey!” You released the buckles as quickly as you could manage and swept him into your grasp, leaving the carrier crumpled and forgotten at your feet. He looked pale, exhausted. His eyes were closing. “Nononono, Grogu, come on. Come on, buddy, it’s okay, I’m right here. Everything’s going to be okay.” You were babbling now, but you hardly noticed. If something happened to him in your care…if something happened because of you…
You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself.
Grogu went limp your arms, and you fought the sting of tears and the overwhelming weight of dread as you brought a hand up to rest on his little chest, feeling for a pulse, a breath. “Come on, sweetie,” you murmured, peeling back the bulky layers of his robes. “Please be breathing, please be breathing.” The palm of your hand settled on his sternum, warm and impossibly small beneath his threadbare undershirt, and after an endless moment, you felt it – the flutter of his heartbeat and a deep, wide expansion of his lungs.
A wave of relief so strong it buckled your knees swept over you, and you heard yourself hiccup a sob. He was alive.
___
The comm link felt heavy and cold in your hand as you paced the cargo hold, gnawing your bottom lip in distress. Never once, in all the months that you had been traveling with Mando, had you been tempted to call him while he was on a hunt. You hated the idea of disturbing him, of being the reason why he got caught stalking a quarry or distracted from his mission. Any questions you had, you figured out the answer on your own. Any time you felt unsafe, you enhanced the range and sensitivity of the Crest’s ground defense systems and battened down the hatches. Any time Grogu had a meltdown, you resolved it with songs and stories and perhaps a few snacks. However, you wondered if perhaps this time, you had bitten off more than you could chew.
You had managed to get Grogu’s unconscious body back inside the Razor Crest and settled in his hammock strung above the bunk mattress, but that had been hours ago, and since then, you had run out of things to occupy yourself with as you waited for him to wake up. You had gone back up to the roof and collected your repair supplies, made notes in your datapad of where you had left off so you could pick back up another time, reconstituted and then failed to eat a loaf of polystarch bread for dinner, and now the sun was setting, and still, the child hadn’t stirred.
The relief and the gratitude you had felt when you realized he was still alive had long since faded, and the longer he remained unresponsive, the more you considered that perhaps it would be more irresponsible to leave Mando uninformed than it would be to simply wait around for Grogu to recover.
“Oh, kriff it,” you muttered under your breath. Swallowing thickly against the lump in your throat, you brought the comm link up to your mouth and pressed the sending button. “M-Mando. Come in, Mando.”
Silence greeted you. You paused your pacing, checked the volume controls on the device in your palm, but still the silence persisted.
“This is the Razor Crest, come in, Mando,” you repeated. Your voice had begun to tremble. You weren’t even certain what you were planning to say if he did eventually respond. Mando, please come home? Your foot-tall surrogate son who is somehow ancient and also a toddler used some kind of magic wizard powers to save my stupid ass from falling off the top of your ship, and now he’s been unconscious for hours, and I’m scared he’s not going to wake up?
It did not escape your notice that you had started thinking of the Crest as “home,” but you determined quickly that you would unpack that thought another time. One crisis as a time was about all you could manage.
After nearly a full minute had passed with no response, you brought the comm link to your lips one last time. “Mando, this is the Razor Crest. Come in.” You sighed, closing your eyes in silent supplication. “Please.”
Another beat of silence, then two, and just as you were about to tuck the comm link back into your pocket, the thing crackled to life with a wave of static and a gruff, modulated voice. “I read you, Razor Crest.”
You sagged against the stack of cargo bins, your heartrate slowly coming back down out of the stratosphere with relief. His words were slow, deliberate, his voice breathless. The man was clearly exhausted, and you wondered whether you had startled him awake, if he had found a place to make camp for the evening and you had interrupted his rest. A pang of guilt echoed in your chest at the thought. Perhaps you ought to have waited until morning…
Before you could formulate an apology, the comm link popped with interference once more, and you heard, “Razor Crest? What’s your situation?” He sounded more awake now, his tone tight with concern. “Everything okay?”
You startled and immediately hit the sending button once more. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, umm… I-I think everything is okay? But I’m not…sure?” Your voice quirked up at the end like you were asking a question, and you felt your cheeks heat at how ridiculous you must sound. Hurriedly, you continued, “It’s-it’s the kid. He did something…crazy today, something I didn’t even think was possible, and now, I think…I think something’s wrong with him. Mando, I…” You trailed off, sighing into the communicator as you rested it on your forehead, as though steadying yourself with it, drawing strength from it. Your lower lip trembled. “I don’t know what to do.”
A long pause stretched between you at that, and you were certain you could feel it, yawning through subspace, connecting the two of you across however many miles he had traveled on his hunt, taut with the significance of what you had just revealed. Was he even still in the city, you wondered? If this strangeness with Grogu really was a problem, how long would it take for him to make it back? Had you waited too long to contact him? What if –
The sound of a gravelly sigh emanated from the comm link, interrupting your spiraling anxiety. “Is he unconscious?” Mando asked after a moment. “Breathing but unresponsive?”
You could feel your jaw drop of its own accord. “Y-Yes. Yes, that’s it exactly.”
“How long has he been out for?”
“Four, maybe five hours?” you replied.
There was another pause, and then, “He could be out for a few more yet. It depends how much…energy he used.”
“But…he’s okay? He’s going to be all right?”
This time, his response was almost immediate. “Yes, he’s fine.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Mando knew what this was. He had seen it before. And, miraculously, you hadn’t irreparably injured his son. “Thank the Maker,” you muttered.
“I’m…sorry if that frightened you. Are you all right?” the bounty hunter asked after a moment. You felt a small, fond smile tug at the corner of your mouth.
“Yeah. Now that I know he’s okay…” you trailed off with a shake of your head. “I’ll tell you more about what happened when you get back. But I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Something close to a chuckle filtered its way through the comm link. “I always worry about you, gotabor’ika.”
You scoffed into the receiver, suddenly thankful for the relative anonymity of this form of communication. You weren’t certain what this new nickname was, but you knew that every time he used it on you, it made your cheeks burn .
And now that the worry and the urgency surrounding Grogu had eased, the longing had reared its head once again, and the distance between you felt wider than it ever had.
“H-How’s the hunt? Are you…getting close?” you asked haltingly. You knew you shouldn’t be continuing to bother him, but you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to let him go just yet. You wanted to listen to his voice just a few moments longer.
“Yes. I think I’ve located where the quarry’s hiding out. Assuming I’ve estimated his defense capabilities correctly, I should have him in custody by the end of the day tomorrow.” You permitted yourself a real smile at that, the sharpness of the yearning in your chest eased somewhat by the promise of his return. However, before you could piece together a reply that didn’t make you sound too relieved, he added, “I…owe you an explanation. When I get back to the ship. I’ll explain as much as I can, about what happened today with the kid. I’ve kept you in the dark for too long. You…deserve better.”
You drew your lower lip between your teeth. You had only heard Mando’s voice take that tone once before, so gentle and earnest – when he had offered you the job on the Crest, after he had freed you. It never failed to soften your heart, to melt you from the inside out. “I…I think I’d like that,” you admitted. “Today’s been…a lot.”
“I understand. You did well, gotabor’ika. Thank you for calling me. For caring for him.”
The ache in your heart surged, the affection you felt for both him and his child nearly overwhelming. Had the bounty hunter been in the room with you, you might have been unable to resist throwing your arms around him and burying your face in his chest. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”
A lull in the conversation passed between you, the both of you content to simply exist on either end of the comm line from each other, until he murmured, “Get some rest. Stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “You, too, Mando,” you murmured. Almost unconsciously, you pressed the mesh panel of the comm link receiver to your lips as you spoke, as though he might feel them through on the other side of subspace. “Come home safe.”
The comm link fell silent in your hand then, and you let your head drop back to rest on the bulkhead behind you. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, and you groaned aloud into the empty cargo hold.
You were falling in love with the Mandalorian.
___
Mando'a Translations:
Vaabir naasad baatir ni. - Don't worry about me.
Nuhoyir jii. - Sleep now.
Mhi ba’juri verde. - We will raise warriors.
Ret’urcye mhi. - Good-bye (literally, maybe we'll meet again)
#din djarin#the mandalorian#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal characters fanfiction
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Shhhh...I'm sure it's still Sunday...somewhere.
Thank you and kudos in spirit to @ionlydrinkhotwater, @facewithoutheart, @otherworldsivelivedin, @cutestkilla, @foolofabookwyrm-activated, @artsyunderstudy, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @katmiscellanious, @hushed-chorus, @yeonjunenby, @confused-bi-queer, and @larkral. I'm spoiled for choice with all the incredible writing y'all are doing.
As always, I've got more time to write than to post on Tumblr, so I have plenty to share. Under the cut for length:
From: Gates of Ivory and Horn, my Snowflake Exchange fic (and the title will in no way alert my exchange partner, so I'm free to share it):
I must black out, because the next thing I know, I’m back in the white void, the waiting place. That’s what I’m starting to call it in my head. It seems fitting. I’m looking at the two innocent seeming gates again and all I can feel is revulsion. What I saw, what I felt, what I did in there...none of that was okay. Even if only half of it was true, I can’t accept it.
From Saving Simon Snow, a canon divergence fic:
When I see a very modern looking steel door, I come to a sudden stop and gape at it. This has to be related to the mystery I’m chasing. There’s no way this isn’t a new feature! And, sure enough, the last glowing paw print lights up in front of the door, glows brightly once, and then fades out before I can even step into it. I’ve reached my destination.
Simon Snow is here.
From my House AU, gift fic for @yellobb-old:
Fifteen was also the year when Simon’s ‘errands’ for Mage became more dangerous. The Mage knew some dicey customers and Simon frequently ran into trouble with the sorts of people Mage associated with. As I started seeing Snow get closer and closer to death with each close encounter, I grew frightened for him. This translated to me trying to convince him of the Mage’s ill intent, but I’d done my work too well. Simon wouldn’t believe a word I said.
Especially since I didn’t know how to talk to him with anything other than sarcasm and insults.
From The White Chapel, my Cotta 2023:
Fiona appears like magic on the balcony above. She despises whistling, which is why I was doing it. “Basil! Can that fucking noise before I can your arse!” she bellows.
I throw the knapsack over my shoulder and then look up and give her my cheesiest grin. “You know what, Fiona? You’re right. I’ve got no business being here. So I’m fired!”
Dev is staring at me like I’ve gone mad, which, fair. “Did…you just fire yourself?”
From: Playing with Fire, Treading Thin Ice:
Lady Ruth and Jamie are watching him with smiles on their faces, but I know they’re not seeing him the same way I am, given my thoughts of last night. He looks like the Chosen One. He looks glorious.
He’s my Chosen One, my subconscious supplies. It doesn’t matter what else he is. I choose him.
From Raising Dragons:
He nods against me, and then buries his face into my chest when the next contraction comes. The fates are merciful, this time, however, because the third egg crowns after only two more contractions. When I see it glisten between his thighs, I rub his belly harder, even pressing down a bit, as if I could give him some help by pushing from above. “You’ve got this, darling,” I murmur to his bronze curls. “You’re almost there. You’re doing wonderful, my love. I’m so in awe of you.”
I'm waving hello from the state where early December means temperatures in the seventies. I hope to hear from you all soon! @angelsfalling16, @annabellelux, @bazzybelle, @basiltonbutliketheherb, @bookish-bogwitch, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @fight-surrender, @fatalfangirl, @giishu, @ileadacharmedlife, @johnwgrey, @jbrrring, @krisrix, @letraspal, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @nightimedreamersghost, @onepintobean, @prettylightsbigcity, @raenestee, @tea-brigade, @unfiltered-alice-liddle, @whogaveyoupermission, @whatevertheweather, and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe
#mpreg#dragon babies#xanadu au#cotta 2023?#House AU#Carry on reverse bang#Snowflake exchange#Canon divergence AU#six sentence sunday#co/ws/awtwb
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