#sorry for the green hue on a few | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leclerc-hs · 1 month

Text

can't get you outta my head - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends to lovers!) summary: in which you and charles are in the same friend group and find solace in one another OR you and charles fuck and can’t forget about it warnings: smut under the cut! oral (f-receiving!), outdoor sex, p in v, angst, pining, badly translated french (pls correct me), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 5.4k! (lengthy) author’s note: IN HONOR OF HITTING 1,600 FOLLOWERS I AM POSTING THIS TODAY!!!! double-postings today!!! i wrote this SOOO fast so sorry if there’s any mistakes. loved writing it tho and i know i was going to make it more enemies originally but making him softer and cutesy just felt right for now. i can always do another one if you guys want!! just let me know what you think! love hearing from you guys!!! xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

BENEATH THE BRILLIANT canopy of the sun’s golden embrace, you recline comfortably upon the plush cushions of the lounge chairs, creating a sanctuary of comfort amidst the vast expanse of sand. Around you, a kaleidoscope of colors and textures unfold: vibrant beach towels strewn around carelessly, the glistening ocean stretching endlessly before you, and the verdant palm trees swaying in rhythmic cadence against the bright blue sky.

The sound of the ocean’s embrace upon the sandy shoreline murmurs in the background, a subtle undercurrent beneath the symphony of voices of your friends that fills the air. Your gaze drifts towards a cluster of your friends cavorting in the embrace of the water. Their figures, silhouetted against the shimmering expanse of the ocean, exude a carefree vitality. Like playful spirits unleashed, they tumble and wrestle amidst the crash of the waves, their laughter echoing.

You smile softly listening to a few of the girl’s banter over last night’s drunken escapades, flipping a page of the cheap magazine you purchased earlier.

“Joris a pratiquement mange de la merde hier soir.” Joris practically ate shit last night. Your best friend, also Joris’s girlfriend, to the left of you says in between laughter, as you all careen over with a laugh.

“Au moins, il va bien.” At least he’s fine. You say with a soft smile, turning another page of your magazine. “Can we talk about Antoine shooting a firecracker out of his ass?” The words spark an immediate eruption of laughter, tears threaten to fall from your eyes from the sheer hilarity of the memory.

“Qu’est-ce qui est si drôle?” What’s so funny?

You turn your head and find yourself locking eyes with a pair of captivating green. In that moment, your heart skips a small beat, and a soft smile graces your lips as you gaze warmly at him. “Making fun of Joris and Antoine, bien sûr.” Of course.

A smile plays at the corner of his pink lips, and you can’t help but envy their perfect hue. You can’t help but notice the subtle dimples that grace Charles’ cheeks as he smiles. Did he always have those? With a casual grace, he raises a hand to scratch the side of his stubble before reaching for a towel casually draped over your lounge chair. As he leans over, droplets of water cascade onto your warm skin, a gentle reminder of the ocean’s embrace. You steal a moment to admire the bronzed glow of his skin, the sunlight dancing upon the small beads of water that cling to his sculpted muscles with a tantalizing allure.

A peculiar aura envelops the relationship between you and Charles. You didn’t speak often, although you were in the same friend group, and have known each other for forever. However, in the recent weeks, a shift has occurred. Perhaps it’s the shared experience of a newfound singleness has drawn you closer together, prompting conversations to flow more freely than ever before.

A delicate blush creeps onto your cheeks, a fleeting flush of warmth that you hope goes unnoticed against the backdrop of your sun-kissed skin. You feel a jolt of electricity shoot through you as Charles’s fingers brush lightly against your shoulders while the grabs the towel, igniting a subtle spark between you two.

“Allons-nous au club ce soir?” Are we going to the club tonight? One of your guy friends asks, sinking onto a sandy towel with a groan as he collapses onto the soft grains.

For a moment, maybe a few seconds, silence hangs in the air. As if each person is lost in contemplation, weighing the prospect of the evening’s plans. Then, in a synchronous chorus, a resounding chorus of “yes” erupts from the group, breaking the silence with unanimous enthusiasm.

You remain silent, immersed in the pages of a trash magazine, each turn revealing scandalous tales that undoubtedly blur the lines between fact and fiction. Charles watches you intently from his position in the beach chair across from you, though not directly opposite. Positioned slightly to the right, his gaze lingers on you with a subtle curiosity, his expression betraying a hint of contemplation as he observes you amidst the circle of friends. Always in your own world.

“Lovie, tu participes?” Are you in? Your best friend beside you seems to notice your lack of response. Her arms stretch across the gap between your chairs, and she gently squeezes your wrist, a silent gesture of reassurance and solidarity.

Lovie. You don’t exactly know why you got that nickname, but it stuck. And it carried over to most of the friend group calling you that since childhood.

You lifted your head up, the sun beading down on you causing your eyes to slightly crinkle, as you gave her a look that said duh!

Your friends smile widens as she claps her hands together, her excitement palpable as she sits up from her previously relaxed position. Her enthusiasm is infectious, casting a warm glow over the group as they all eagerly cheer in happiness with her. “Mon dieu!” Thank God! It was a squeal of relief. “Maybe you’ll meet a sexy man and fall in love and have his babies so you can forget all about that loser.”

Your heart clenches at the mere mention of your ex. The smile on your lip’s falters just slightly, but you quickly regain composure, determined not to show a hint of sadness surface while on vacation with your friends. With a subtle effort, you smooth away the brief flicker of vulnerability, masking it beneath a façade of cheerful resilience.

You roll your eyes, “Nous verrons.” We’ll see. Your tone carries a hint of mystery as you look back into your magazine, letting the conversation of your friends flow into a different direction.

“Es-tu sûre que tu devrais en prendre unautre?” Are you sure you should have another? Joris says into your ear, making sure you’re able to hear him over the pulse of the music, his arm slung over the back of the booth behind you. You lean into his body, a drunken smile pulled on your lips.

He harbored a slight concern for you. While you were his girlfriend’s best friend, your friendship dated back to childhood, long before his relationship with her, and he held you in high regard. His care for you ran deep, and ever since your break-up, he knows that you haven’t been the same.

“Arrête de t’inquiéter pour moi.” Stop worrying about me. You shove his shoulder gently, before pointing to your best friend on the dance floor. “Inquiéte-toi pour elle.” Worry about her.

You let out a soft laugh as you witness Joris’s eyes widen in surprise at the sight of his girlfriend standing on the stage. With a knowing smile, you begin to slide out of the booth with intent to make your way to the bar, sensing the need for a fresh drink to accompany the unfolding spectacle.

Before you can even slide out of the booth, a fresh drink—scratch that, a refill of your drink, is placed in front of you. Your gaze follows the masculine hand holding the glass, adorned with an expensive watch at the wrist, tracing its path up the arm until your gaze meets Charles’ intense stare. His eyes, dark and captivating, lock onto yours, already filled with questions and a silent understanding.

You slide back over, silently signaling him to sit beside you. As he eases into the spot beside you, the proximity of his body sends a shiver down your spin, the heat radiating from him igniting a primal longing within you. Your bare skin tingles with anticipation as his presence fills the air with an electric charge, a silent dance of desire playing out between you in the dimly lit confines of the booth.

In the midst of the pulsating club music, words between you two remained scarce. Yet, you both found solace in the quiet companionship that enveloped you both. The energy of the club swirled around you, but the warmth of each other’s presence, you felt a profound sense of ease settle, much like a comforting blanket.

It wasn’t unnoticeable to the rest of the friend group. In fact, it was very noticeable. The way you and Charles seemed to find a connection with one another, especially post break-ups.

It’s not that you were never friends, you just were never as close. So it came as a slight surprise to a few of your friends as they picked up the little changes that were made.

Like when Charles refills your drinks for you. Or when he notices that there is coconut in your meal, which you’re very allergic to, and sends it back to the kitchen.

Like when you remind him to put on sunscreen, knowing he tends to burn easily. Or when you find yourselves sitting out by the fire at night, long after everyone went to sleep, just talking about the most random things.

“The CGI in that movie was terrible!”

“It’s a classic! You can’t hate a classic!”

“That doesn’t make the CGI better!”

“I’ll have you know I’m a culinary expert.”

“Charles, I’ve known you for forever. Don’t lie!”

“I’m an innovator! Who else could turn pasta into charcoal with such ease?”

No matter the topic at hand, you and Charles always found yourselves engulfed in laughter, the gentle sound filling the air with warmth and camaraderie.

You didn’t want sadness to cloud your vacation, but sometimes emotions have a way of washing over you like relentless waves. One of the evenings, while your friends made plans to dine out, you made the wise choice to stay in. Although you didn’t want to miss out, you felt that you were not in the right mindset to be out with everyone. Some protested your decision, expressing concern, but you assured them that you would be fine on your own and ready to party it up all day tomorrow.

Charles shot you a funny look as he slid his hands into one of his pockets, leaning casually against the kitchen archway. His white linen shirt, barely buttoned and snug against his muscles, accentuated his tan, making it seem even more vibrant against the stark contrast of the fabric. A single glance from him stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you as you perched on the bar-stool chair, clad in nothing but a tiny pair of sleep shorts and a well-worn t-shirt. It was your ex-boyfriend’s shirt, a garment you should have long discarded, but its comfort proved too irresistible to part with. Despite the pang of guilt that tugged at your conscience, you found solace in its familiar embrace, a reminder of the past you couldn’t quite let go of yet.

The villa you currently stayed in was beautiful. Its whitewashed walls and wrought-iron accents blended modern and luxury all in one. Inside, the warm glow of the setting sunbathed the spacious rooms, casting an ethereal orange hue over the abundance of white and wood-colored furniture. As the click of the front door echoed through the villa, the chatter of your friends faded into near silence as they departed for dinner, leaving you alone in complete silence.

You find yourself eventually nestled in the corner of the oversized couch, cocooned in the warmth of a fluffy blanket draped over your body. With the television remote in hand, you flip through the channels, searching for something to capture your interest. Nothing quite grabs your attention, until you stumble upon a cheesy rom-com you’ve seen hundreds of times.

Lost in a trance, you’re oblivious to the world around you, the gentle breeze whispering through the open windows. The creak of the front door opening barely registers, and it’s only when Charles’ silhouette materializes in the archway beside the TV that you snap back to reality. A soft smile tugs at the corners of Charles’ lips as he gazes upon you, nestled comfortably on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth. His heart skips a beat at the sight of you, at the sight of your eyes looking at him with such softness.

“Que fais-tu de retour?” What are you doing back?

He shrugs nonchalantly, pushing off from the wall’s archway and making his way toward you. With an easy grace, he plops down beside you, propping one leg up on another couch cushion and allowing his shoulder and head to half-lean against you.

You both settle in a comfortable silence, the sound of the movie filling the air around you with a comforting ambiance.

“Penses-tu jamais que tu le surpasseras?” Do you ever think you’ll get over him?

The words send your stomach into a frenzy of somersaults, and a tightness forms in your throat, making it difficult to swallow.

You don’t answer immediately, instead you stare ahead at the television, your fingers fumbling with the fabric of the blanket nervously.

“Je l’espère.” I hope so.

His eyes are solemn as you look at him. “Parfois,” Sometimes. He begins, straightening his posture so he can fully look at you. “I think I’ll never get over her.”

His words hang heavily in the air, and though they sting a bit, you understand. You share the same sentiment.

“Mais toi,” But you. His hand reaches to yours, the one fumbling with your thigh. His eyes dart between both of yours, like he’s struggling to formulate his next words. “You just,” He starts before squeezing your hand in his. “You just make my days feel easier.”

You nod slowly, knowing exactly what he’s trying to say. “My pain, my heartache, just disappears whenever I’m with you.” Your voice is soft as you speak the words. The truth of them daunting.

“Sometimes I just wish I could turn my emotions off.” You say, unwrapping the blanket from your body, so that it only sits underneath you now. “Like I could just fuck someone and move on.”

Charles’ eyes widen slightly as the word ‘fuck’ slips past your lips. He nearly lets out an audible groan, his eyes tracing the contours of your collarbones peeking out from the oversized shirt that slips tantalizingly of your shoulder.

He licks his lips, swallowing a pronounced gulp, as his eyes trail back to your face.

“Yeah.”

You could feel the tension in the air, like the both of you were considering fucking each other here and now. Charles couldn’t escape the thoughts of spreading you out on the cushions right here, spreading your legs and fucking you with his tongue.

As he locks eyes with you, you feel a flutter in your stomach, your thighs clenching involuntarily as his gaze lingers on your lips. You part your lips to speak, but before you can utter another word, a loud burst of commotion erupts through the front door. No doubt your drunken friends, clamoring for the fire pit.

You and Charles find yourselves in an awkward dance since then. Not too awkward, but the idea of you fucking each other escaped neither of your minds.

It was honestly twisted. The fact that Charles couldn’t stop picturing what you would look like beneath him, what your moans would sound like in his ear. He had fucked his fist twice to the though of you since he even heard the word ‘fuck’ slip past your lips on the couch the other night. It was honestly pathetic.

You couldn’t handle it either it seems. You found your eyes lingering on Charles way longer than necessary. The flex of his muscles as he enjoys a morning workout by the villa’s pool, the small smiles he gives you from across the room, and the small touches he gives as he walks by you has you driving yourself up a fucking wall.

So, when your friends decide to head out for a spa day, you and Charles hang back sitting across from one another a tad too far apart on the outdoor couch for it to be normal. It was as if you needed the space to stop from jumping each other’s bones.

The skimpy red bikini you wore did little to ease Charles’ thoughts. But he couldn’t help but feel grateful for the first time in weeks he isn’t thinking about his ex-girlfriend. No, he’s too engrossed in the idea of fucking you. Hearing your sweet little moans he just knows you would have. Feeling your smooth skin beneath the pads of his fingertips.

Charles could feel himself harden just by glancing at you lounging comfortably on the outdoor couch, the clouds covering the sun engulfing you guys in a moment of shade.

Across the couch from him, you tried to do everything but acknowledge Charles’ longing stare. But you couldn’t. Your body was all tense, in need of a release.

“Charles, will you—”

Before you could even finish the sentence, Charles was standing over your figure on the couch. His hardened cock visibly noticeable in his short swimsuit. The muscles of his thighs flexed before you, as he visibly gulped at the vision of your breasts spilling out of the top.

“Assieds-toi droit.” Sit up. He murmurs softly, his voice carrying a gentle command as he shifts, prompting you to straighten your posture.

Was this really about to happen? You really hoped so.

It was as if Charles can see the desire in your eyes, answering the question of if you wanted this in his head almost instantly.

“Est-ce que je peux t’embrasser?” Can I kiss you? His thumb toyed with your bottom lip, tracing it as he licked his own.

You nodded your head before his lips pressed down onto yours, capturing them in a sweet embrace. His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping it firmly near your scalp as he deepened the kiss, igniting a surge of warmth and longing between you.

A soft moan escapes your lips as he slips his tongue into your mouth, pressing it hotly against yours. He pulls away for a moment, still standing above your sitting figure, as he takes in your blown out pupils.

“Ça a un gout si doux.” Tastes so sweet. His hand remains in your hair, holding your head in place to look at him. His eyes stare at your sightly swollen lips, a clench of need forming in the pit of his stomach.

He falls to his knees before you on the couch, kneeling between your two legs, as his other hand presses against your chest, forcing you to lean back against the cushions of the couch. The sun peeped through the clouds momentarily, allowing you to drink in the sight of just how light his eyes were.

His thumb grazes your bikini cladded core, rubbing light circles in a teasing manner. The pressure of his thumb wasn’t enough, but it was everything you needed.

He looked at you from between your legs, a smirk on his face like he knew just how crazy he was driving you. It was an image you never wanted to forget.

“Touch me.” You begged, a breathy moan leaving your lips as his thumb pressed harder onto your swollen clit.

It was all he needed to hear before sliding your bikini bottoms to the side and shoving his tongue to where you needed him most. The cool air of the outdoors was a stark contrast to the heat you felt between your legs.

He took his time with you, like he wanted to savor every sweet moan you gave him. His tongue flicked around your clit a few times, before wrapping his lips around it. Your hand slid into his brown locks, slightly lightened form the sun over vacation, and pulled as you rutted your hips against his face.

“Mm, that’s it,” He groaned into your cunt, his words vibrating against you, sending your hips into a faster frenzy. He slipped two fingers into you, lifting his head to watch as you lulled your head back against the cushion and took your hands from his head to your breasts. You stretched the bikini top slightly, until your breasts spilled over the tiny triangles, your nipples already hardened from the need that burned within you.

Charles slipped one hand up to your breasts, taking one of your nipples in between his thumb and forefinger and pinching.

“M’god,” You half-shouted, biting your lip to prevent yourself for being too loud.

“Don’t deprive me from your sweet little moans, yeah?” He pulled his lips off your clit for a few seconds, giving you ample time to look at them glistening in you. You nearly came at the sight of it.

He dropped his head back between your legs, flicking fast kitten licks to your clit, which had you careening forward with a cry of pleasure.

He sucked hard on your clit, eliciting loud mewls from you that were like a sweet melody to his ears. Charles could feel his cock straining against the tightness of his swim suit, he flexed his hips into the couch before him, in need of some sort of relief.

He could feel you teetering on the edge of your orgasm, shoving his face deeper into you, his tongue slipping in and out of you at a fervent pace. It hit you hard. Your hips had a mind of their own, as they rode his face, the bony structure of his nose pressing against your clit sending you into a frenzy.

Charles replaced his tongue with his fingers and watched as you came down from your high. His fingers still working you over as he coaxed you through your orgasm, not letting up.

“I knew you would taste like heaven,” He smirks, finally removing his fingers, before slipping them into his mouth, and moaning at the taste of you on his tongue.

You groaned, your pupils blown out as you looked at him, your legs still spread and cunt fully exposed to him and the outside air.

“Need more,” You practically begged.

“Need my cock, hm?” You nodded, wasted no time in answering. He pushed himself up from his knees, sitting beside you on the couch as he pushed his swimsuit down enough to free his cock. It was hot and heavy in your hands as you reached for it, precum already dripping from its tip.

You straddled his waist, raising up just enough for him to slip his cock into your already saturated core. Your hands grip the back of the couch behind Charles’ head, your fingers clenching it tightly as you take in each inch of him. His hands grip your waist, large fingers sprayed across as he guides your movements over his cock.

The squeeze of your cunt on his cock was better than Charles could ever imagine. The fact that he had to use his fist before you was honestly a punishment compared to this.

“Mon dieu,” My God. You groan as his cock stretches your walls. You waste no time in working yourself over his cock, the pleasure of it too good for you to do it slow. You chased that second orgasm as it teetered on the edge. You were already so close.

“That close already?” His smirk was permanent on his face as he flexed his hips up into you, hitting you deeper than before.

You nodded, soft mewls escaping your lips constantly. It was as if you couldn’t shut up now. His hands grip your hair tightly, pulling your head back to look up at the sky, as he pulls one of your hardened nipples in between his teeth.

You didn’t have time to tell him you were coming again, but the clench of your walls on his cock was enough of a warning for him. Your walls fluttered around him repeatedly, as his name fell softly from your lips followed with a string of curses.

As if he couldn’t hold back his orgasm any longer, he lifted you up off him and placed you to the side, his hot cum spilling over his cock and stomach in stringy spurts. Your body was limp against the cushion, your bathing suit covering nothing.

Still hazy from your climax, you look from the blue cloudy sky to Charles beside you. His eyes were glossy as he smiled, like he was fully content.

“Merci,” Thank you. You said softly, an acknowledgment for him giving you what you mentioned the other night.

He nodded once, giving a small smile as if to say thank you back.

It’s been weeks since you and Charles fucked on the outdoor couch of the vacation villa. You haven’t seen each other much since, not that you expected it. You were thankful it helped you forget about your ex-boyfriend just a little bit more. Like you could bare the idea of meeting other men. Which you were.

You claimed that Charles was a one-time thing. Although it was probably the best sex you’ve ever had, you knew you couldn’t do it again. It was a mutual one-time thing.

So, when you found yourself pressed against the bathroom door of the five-star restaurant, your short little sundress bunched up at your waist, and Charles’ cock buried deep in your cunt, it was a little unexpected. Not completely.

It was hard and quick, nothing but a string of breathy moans between you two as he pressed your chest forward into the door. You both came quickly, your chest flushed red and his cheeks slightly pink as if he just performed a hard workout.

“Who’s your date?” He asks, the words slip out fast, like he’s trying to act like he doesn’t care.

You furrow your eyebrow for a second, before looking at yourself in the mirror, Charles standing tall behind your figure. “Just met him last night,” You flattened your hair as much as you could to make it seem normal. “I’m trying to get back out there.”

Charles smiles at you, although it seems slightly pained. “Good. Your ex-boyfriend didn’t deserve you.” His words were kind, and it made you smile that he even bothered to say it.

“I should get back,” You begin, turning to face him. His eyes look at your lips one last time, like he’s contemplating kissing you again. “I’ll see you next week at Joris’s, right?”

He gave you a small nod.

Charles Leclerc is a liar.

Well, a liar when it comes to him saying he doesn’t think about you sexually. The way you feel around his cock. The way your breathy moans turn him on to no end. The way your breasts bounced with each thrust of his cock. The taste of your cunt on his lips.

He’s a liar if he says he doesn’t fuck his fist almost every night to the thought of you.

But he was also a liar when it comes to him saying he doesn’t think about you not sexually. The way you loved to read trashy magazines, the way you always fidgeted with the rings on your fingers when you were nervous, the way your eyes glowed whenever you laughed.

So, when Joris mentions you and a new potential boyfriend, he can’t help but feel slightly annoyed at the idea. The clench of Charles’ jaw at the sight of you and this ‘potential boyfriend’ across the yard at baby shower, does not slip past Joris’s eyesight.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two?

Charles clutches the neck of the beer bottle in his fingers, bringing it to his lips, before straying his eyes from you to Joris beside him.

Charles’ eyes gleamed like he didn’t know how to answer this without admitting feelings he hasn’t even admitted to himself. He shook his head. No. Because there wasn’t.

“Vous étiez proches en vacances.” You guys were close on vacation.

It was just a statement, as if he wanted to see Charles’ reaction. Charles didn’t know if Joris was trying to insinuate anything, but Charles didn’t respond. Not as Joris’s girlfriend, your best friend, popped up behind you both, a tray of cupcakes in her hand.

You sat across the yard, deep in conversation with Theo, at one of the many heavily decorated picnic tables. The short purple sundress that adorned your body is a vision of effortless elegance. Delicate straps grace the shoulders, framing your breasts with a feminine charm. The skirt flows gently with every movement, swaying gracefully in the warm breeze.

You both knew it wasn’t anything serious, at least yet, but he had a way of making you smile, nonetheless. Despite only knowing each other for a few weeks and sharing a handful of dates, he made a point to take his time with you. He was considerate, never pressuring you into anything, especially after you had confided in him about your previous messy relationship one night.

“Tu es belle.” You’re beautiful. Theo whispered into your ear, his fingers toying with the fabric at the ends of your dress, resting right above your knees.

You blushed, your cheeks flaring a light shade of red, as you smiled into your lap. You lifted your head slightly, looking across the yard, where your eyes met with Charles. His eyes already watching you with such heat in his eyes it made your stomach do a somersault.

He felt an intense surge of resentment towards the guy who dared to lay his hands on you, his anger boiling as he watched him lean into whisper into your ear. Your cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of crimson under his gaze, betraying the effect of his words. What could he possibly be saying to you?

It was just his cock you were coming around last week. So, why is this fiery sense of jealousy threatening to consume him entirely?

It didn’t make sense. How could he feel such intense jealousy over someone he never even had a real relationship with? He never even felt this jealous over his ex-girlfriend.

It was just sex.

He told himself repeatedly. It was just sex. But it only made the burn in his chest only grow more.

You were a liar if you said that Charles Leclerc is never on your mind. You were a liar if you said that it was just sex.

Because, for some inexplicable reason, you can’t seem to get Charles Leclerc out of your mind. You remember how he made sure none of your dishes contained coconut, how he bought you those trashy magazines he knew you loved so much, and how he always made sure that you were smiling.

So, when Charles Leclerc stood silhouetted in the doorway of your front door, the moonlight casting a soft glow around him in the middle of the night, you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat.

You took note of his hair in disarray, as if he had run his hands through it a dozen times, and the soft grey sweats that hung loosely on his hips. The taut muscles of his arms peeked out against the seams of the black t-shirt he wore.

“Je n’arrête pas de penser à toi.” I can’t stop thinking about you. He utters the words with a look of anguish etched on his face, each step carefully navigating around your figure as he stands in the foyer of your apartment, a space he’s been in countless times over the years. But never alone. Never without friends.

You close the door and turn to look at him, not realizing just how close he was to you. “It’s like you,” he begins but freezes, taking a step closer toward you. You take a step back, the tight tank top you wore did little to hide your hardened nipples from the cold air, and your back hit the front door. “It’s like you possess every thought I have. Every single thought. You. You. You.”

You sucked in a breath as you looked into his eyes, more darkened than normal, almost as if he was angry at you.

“Qu’est-ce que tu m’as fait?” What did you do to me? His fingers trail up your arm to your collarbones, a trail of goosebumps following in their wake.

You gulp audibly, your lips slightly parted from the feel of his fingertips on your skin for the first time in weeks. You struggle to find the words until Charles is pleading.

He laughs slightly sarcastic, like he can’t believe this is happening to him. “I even bought those trashy magazines that you like so much, a whole stack of them at my place, because I cannot get you out of my fucking head.”

“Dit moi, it’s not just me.” Tell me.

You would be a liar if you said it’s just him. Your hands trail up to his shoulder, your fingers squeezing them in comfort as you stare into his eyes. His breaths getting heavier as your fingers trail his t-shirt classes skin, like he was yearning for it so much, like it burned him.

“It’s not just you.”

He doesn’t give you time to say much more, not until his lips are crashing down onto yours again. Like he couldn’t last one more second without your lips pressed to his.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine

2K notes · View notes

melonn-soda · 1 month

Text

❝ DON'T LEAVE JUST YET ( LET ME BREATHE WITH YOU ) ... ❞

word count: 968

warning(s): aventurine/ m! reader, nothing that serious (I believe) other than aventurine just not feeling well, comfort (chara. receiving), ooc aventurine?

prompt: aventurine has a rough start to his morning and he really need you to be with him.

notes: short comfort drabble with aventurine bc I feel like it. also I didn't play the new update so I don't have a clear idea on what his past was like. if anything is considered offensive, please tell me so I may change it!!

fem aligned dni

Mornings with Aventurine are usually slow with the reluctance of wanting to get up and the sluggish movements from underneath the warm covers rendering the possibility because you both are just too comfortable. Your lover is usually always first to get up and wake you, though, through lazy kisses on your forehead with a slight brush of your hair. Sometimes, it's you who was to wake him because he was working later than he would've liked and harder than he has before.

So, as the orange and red hues of the waking sun seep past the forest green curtains and flood the bedroom in all its softness, you stir awake and shift against the man who has you in his hold. Eyelids still feeling heavy, you shuffle so your face is buried deeper into Aventurine's collarbone, his arms that settle themselves around your waist tightening then loosening as he begins to rise from his sleep.

Feather-like kisses are pressed against the edge of his collarbone, just to let him know that you're still awake. He sighs into your hair after a while, sounding more exhausted than you would've like for him to be. In a quick decision, you decide it's best to make breakfast today and begin to draw away from him, slowly, as to not startle his barely awake self.

However, you plans are cut short as you feel him yank you back into place, Aventurine's nose finding its place in-between your neck and shoulder, arms wrapped tighter around your waist. You blink, not moving because he clearly does not want you to leave and that means something is terribly wrong.

"Ven?" You whisper, bringing a hand up to brush some of his bangs that are messily covering his eyes away from them, "You okay? Water?" Questions leave your lips, carefully, as to not scare him away, if that were even possible.

His voice cracks, you're not sure if it's because of the sleep or if he's beginning to cry but it cracks, "Can you just stay for a moment? Please? Don't want you to leave just yet.. Need you t'be with me right now." His eyelashes brush against your skin and his lips graze your neck as he speaks, and as per his request you don't move, attempting to press yourself closer against him even if all of you was as close as humanly possible. It was one of those days for him.

"D'you wanna talk about it?" You ask, running your fingers through his hair. Aventurine's head shakes against you because he doesn't feel ready to open up all of his sensitive memories to you. But that's okay, because healing takes time and you'll wait an eternity for him. With reassuring kisses against his hair and soft strokes of his face, you hope that he gets the message that you'll always be there when he needs you most, waiting and ready to listen.

Two hours pass, the sun now fairly high in the sky, making the room brighter. Somewhere in between those hours, you fell right back asleep unknowingly for a few minutes but always awoke to Aventurine still holding you tight (not that you minded). Each time that happened, yours lips pressed against his forehead to tell him you're awake now.

"...Thank you for not leaving." Aventurine mumbles onto your skin, slowly pulling away from you. His face was now visible, saturated swirls purple and green not facing your direction and instead directed at the end of the bed, "Sorry if I inconvenienced you."

You shush him softly, bringing your hand up to his cheek and brushing your thumb against his cheekbone, "I don't mind one bit. You matter so much more than anything else that I need to do today. If anything troubles you, I'm happy to just be there for you. Don't feel bad about asking for some company, Ven." A kiss is placed right between his eyebrows and Aventurine can't help but melt. His boyfriend, someone who treasures above all, is all he could've asked for. So patient, so gentle, so considerate, someone who he knows he could place all his trust in even if his instincts refuse to comply.

And when Aventurine looks into your eyes for the first time this morning, he feels at ease to see that you gaze at him with those same loving eyes as you always do. No anger directed at him because he refuses to tell you all about his life, no disappointment because you feel like he doesn't trust you enough, nothing. Nothing but love.

"I should- um, probably go make us some breakfast." He stutters, making a motion to slip out of his side of the bed. His silk pajamas glide against the sheets smoothly, only to be pulled back and have the sheets tossed right back over his chest, "Huh-?"

"Nuh uh," You quickly deny him, taking one of the stuffed animals on your side of the bed and placing it next to him, "I'll take care of that today, you need to rest, even if you're not tired. I'll call you in sick or something so you can have the day off."

"But-"

"But nothing, Ven," A peck to Aventurine's lips quickly shuts him up, "Just relax, it's the least you could do. You deserve this more than you think you do. I'll make some French Toast for us, yeah?" You tell him, slipping out of bed and your feet sliding into your fuzzy slippers. And with a click of the door, you're off to cooking.

Aventurine stares at the door for a bit before holding your stuffed animal close to his chest, the toy still smelling like you. He's glad he has someone like you in his life. Because of this, he doesn't think he'll ever stop loving you.

#male reader #x male reader #hsr aventurine #hsr x male reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x male reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr aventurine x male reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine x male reader

514 notes · View notes

seresinhangmanjake · 6 months

Text

The One I Want: Part 3

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.

Words: 1720

The One I Want Masterlist

---

Jake Seresin is a wizard. Or a mind-reader. Or some creature with wildly sensitive hearing. You’re sure of it.

In the month since you moved into the apartment, your only moments alone come when you lock yourself in your bedroom. Otherwise, Jake is near you—sitting next to you, looking at you, talking to you. If your door opens, he follows not five seconds later. If you sit down at the island with your breakfast of bland cereal, he enters the kitchen within two minutes to prepare his own meal; the same meal every morning. Eggs, Canadian bacon, and a protein shake. If you dare to switch the television on, turns out he’s been meaning to watch that show for weeks. You had no idea he was into movie special effects competitions.

It isn’t irritating, exactly—though, it wouldn’t shock you if others experiencing similar treatment would feel that way. You just can’t figure him out. He’s unfigure-outable. You’re pretty sure that’s a thing. If not, Jake Seresin just brought it into existence. And here you thought you were the mystery.

“So I was thinking,” he says.

You close your book without a second thought, having barely read and retained a line in the last fifteen minutes anyway. From the moment he came out of his room and plopped down on the couch—his leg bouncing and eyes trained ahead on nothing—you’ve been waiting for him to snap the tense band of silence between you.

His fingers clasp together, thumbs subtly twiddling when he finally looks over to you. “Maybe you could meet my friends. They’ve asked about you, and you’ve already met Nat so it’s really only the guys.”

That was perhaps one of the last things you imagined he would say. You’ve heard very little of his friends. They’re also pilots. His team. They all have weird nicknames. Half of those nicknames are animals.

There are other tidbits Jake casually mentioned as well. Coyote is his closest friend. There’s a Rooster who recently found himself a chick. A Bob and a Phoenix—who you learned is Nat—are particularly attached.

But every bit of that information you figured he was simply spilling to fill moments where you were in the same room but not speaking. Or perhaps it’s some method to draw out feelings of trust so you might participate in his little game of show and tell. In his eyes is always the hope that you’ll share something of your own, but you have yet to find the courage or need to do so.

“Oh,” you reply, trying to gather the correct words to turn him down. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not really up to meeting a group of people today.”

You hate the way his face falls. Like a puppy denied a treat. But it lasts only a second as another thought brightens the green hue of his irises.

“What if we went somewhere? You and me.”

“What?”

His body shifts on the couch, more of him now facing you. He’s wearing a shirt today. He’s been wearing shirts around you since you made the request weeks ago, but they’re weak at disguising the body underneath. Thin fabric pulled tight like a second skin.

“You said no bars,” he continues. “How do you feel about diners?”

—

It’s an odd image—Jake framed in this setting. He’s all lean muscle and neatly styled hair with a clean-shaven jawline surrounded by greasy food and booths so old their plastic seats are cracking. As others watch him—particularly the hostess who cannot for her life keep from glancing his way every thirty seconds—he watches you. Says nothing; just watches until the waitress returns to set a few plates and mugs in front of you both.

“There you go, kids,” she says. She’s older, and her hair is done up in a style that hasn’t followed the turning of the decades, but you like that it suits her; that she hasn’t paid attention to the change around her, or simply doesn’t care. With her hands on her hips, she says, “Now Jake, if I knew you were bringing a girlfriend I would’ve set aside some of that pie you like.”

Your eyes bug so much they could’ve fallen right onto the table, but Jake chuckles, smiling at you before directing it to the waitress. “Don’t spook her, Mags,” he teases. Then, “This is my new roommate.”

Her lips form an ‘O’ that holds for a few seconds too long before she blinks and tilts her head to the side. “Didn’t work out with the other one, honey?”

“Not so much, no.”

“Well, that’s just fine. I wasn’t a fan.” Mags takes a breath and straightens out her little apron; a costume element you’d rather die than wear, but much like her hair, Mags seems to take pride in it. You can’t fault her for that. You wish you could find a job you enjoy. Or a job at all. She shoots you a grin; nothing like the rehearsed smiles from someone in a customer service job, but a genuine curve of the lips that creates a warm little ball in your chest. “You, on the other hand, look like such a sweetheart. So be good to my Jake here.”

You don’t have the opportunity to disappoint her because she doesn’t wait for a response. Be good to her Jake. Not an ask. A demand. An unspoken ‘or else’ hanging in the air. And though she’s got at least forty years on you, you’re pretty sure she’s spry enough to follow through on her sneaky threats.

Mags squeezes Jake’s shoulder and departs, leaving you in a confused state of mixed energies. Shock and discomfort radiate off of you like heat waves, meeting the cool calmness emanating from a beaming Jake.

“Will you tell me more about yourself now?” he asks.

Shaking off the questionable tone of the older woman, you reconnect yourself to the man in front of you. His words soak in; another unexpected curveball Jake has thrown you within one day. His friends want to meet you, and now your personal details are on his mind. What would come next? Does he want to know the last time you were thoroughly kissed? Your high school GPA? Height and weight? If so, he’s going to be terribly disappointed.

Steaming, wispy tendrils invade your vision, and you finally register the blueberry hint hitting your nostrils. Jake had whispered the order to Mags with the explanation that he already knew what you wanted. And being the mind-reading wizard you’re convinced he is, on a menu of nearly one hundred items he magically happened to pick something you enjoy.

You hold yourself back from digging in, instead meeting his eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. “You think free pancakes are a good trade for my life story?”

He slowly slides a mug closer to you. “I got you coffee as well.”

When you raise an unenthused brow, Jake sighs.

“Fine. You’re leaving me no other choice than to guess,” he says. “But if I get it right, will you be honest?”

With a snort, you pick up your fork and take your first bite of the sweet fluffy cake. It’s undeniably delicious. Fucking wizard. “Sure,” you say, and akin to a child, Jake’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

He ignores his own food and drink to once again watch you. Observing. Your eyes to your lips to your neck and back again. When he comes to a conclusion, he leans back in the booth. “You are a fan of the beach and before you die you intend to live in every beach town this country has to offer for at least two months each.”

Your fork pauses halfway to your mouth. “Are you kidding?”

“Well, since it appears that I am wrong, I’m going to say yes I am kidding because I’m very funny like that.” He stares some more, eyes narrowing. “You’re searching for a long-lost family member.”

“No.”

“You are only attracted to Navy men and thought you’d travel to a hub.”

Again, as he likes to do, he leaves you lacking words for a moment. “That better be another one of your ‘I’m very funny like that’ attempts,” you eventually manage to say. “And you know I wasn’t aware this was a Navy town.”

Jake nods and then leans forward in his seat, arms overlapping on the linoleum tabletop. You can sense the sudden shift; a new energy. The glint in his eye doesn't quite go with the steady seriousness of his voice. Like mismatched puzzle pieces. “So you’re not attracted to Navy men?” he asks.

Your head jerks back to regain the distance he lessened. “Not exclusively.”

“Damn,” he replies, full playful tone back in place. “I wanted to at least get that part right.”

There’s another bright smile from him. A wink. You look to your right to find Mags' watchful gaze; motherly and hopeful.

After another swallow of pancake, you say, “Alright, you’re done for the day.”

“Oh, come on,” he whines.

When you shake your head, he picks up his fork and begins to poke at the eggs on his plate, and you bask in the silence of his disappointment. Peace and quiet, with the exception of the diners surrounding you. No questions. No attempted agonizing small talk. You have a moment to breathe.

It’s not until you’re halfway through your food and the coffee is nearly drained that Jake lifts his head.

“I’m going to figure you out,” he says with an unwelcome note of determination.

Your eyes snap up.

The feeling behind his statement is hard to nail down. You would’ve said delving into your history was something fun for him to do. Something to pass the time with the new person in his home. But now it comes off more like a need. A little prick in his side that he can’t shake.

You so badly want to be wrong in your interpretation. You want him to give up; to surrender to your stubbornness. Ideally, sooner rather than later.

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

Jake doesn’t miss a beat. Nothing about him—not his breath, not his stare—stutters at your response. Instead, he returns with, “But I want to.”

---

A/N: Sorry it's a little short. Next chapter will be labeled 3.5 and will be from Jake's POV.

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath @coldmuffinbanditshoe

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #top gun #jake hangman seresin x y/n #tgm #tgm fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x plus size!reader #jake seresin angst

588 notes · View notes

disasterofastory · 1 year

Note

What about Legolas x F!reader? Maybe she is a friend of Eomer and Legolas gets jealous about all the time they stay together? And some hot moment? I don't know, this is just an Idea. So, I'm sorry for my bad english but I'm Italian. Have a good day❤️

Just a reminder Legolas x Reader Warnings: jealousy, smut

Summary: Legolas reminds you of the reasons you are with him.

A/N: Please don't be sorry for your English. I know the struggle. :)

The grassland is covered in a bright golden hue as the sun reaches the top of the clear blue sky. The lush, green grass waves like the ocean as a breeze runs through the peaceful scenery. Everything is so quiet and calm. It is almost impossible to believe the dark power that works and marches forward underneath it all. The warm rays of the sun caress your bare arms and your cheeks. The tree you lean against is tall and strong, bending its branches to the will of the slight wind. The rustle of the leaves is a sweet whisper in your ear as you focus on the story in front of you. The book is a pleasant weight on your lap. The pages are old and thin between your fingers.

"What are you reading?" Legolas's voice breaks your concentration, but you feel nothing but happiness as you turn your eyes from the long row of words to the tall elf standing a few meters away from you. "Just a book," you shrug. "Tales for children." "Are they good?" He asks, sitting down next to you with a few elegant movements. "You know how it is," you hum, closing the book and putting it on the ground. "The good always wins, and the bad guys pay for their misdeeds as they should." "It was easier to believe in it when we were kids, no?" The elf asks. You can almost see his blue eyes darkening with ominous thoughts. "Sometimes it's harder when you are an adult, yes," you reply, reaching out for his hand to link your fingers together. "But there is always hope." "I heard you will go with Gandalf." "Yes," you nod. "He thinks Eomer will listen to me." A slight frown appears between his brows. His lips turn into a thin line. "Are you friends with the rider?" "Something like that, yes." "When we met them, he asked you to come with them." You barely recognized him when your way met with the riders during your search for the hobbits. You smile and nod in confirmation. "Why are these questions?" "Why didn't you? Went with them, I mean." "You are my home, Legolas," you reply, squeezing his hand in yours. "I won't leave you." "But you will go with Gandalf." "He asked me," you reason, getting a little bit confused. Something is off with Legolas, but you can't find out what. "And it's just for a few days. We need every help we can get." "Are you sure?" He asks. He feels selfish, and guilt eats him up inside because of it, but he can't help himself. He knows orcs and death will wait for you in Helm's Deep, but he can't bear the thought of you staying with the riders. With Eomer. "Legolas," you say his name softly, cupping his cheek with your free hand. Your thumb caresses the soft skin under his eye. "Of course, I will come back to you. There is nothing that can keep me away from you." He smiles at your words. The slight curve of his lips gives him something angelic and ethereal that you can never get used to. You still don't understand how the elven prince can love you, a simple mortal, but he does, and you stopped questioning it years ago.

Soon, his lips find yours, and the kiss that always starts so gently is impatient and rushing now. His hand lands on the back of your head to keep you close, while his tongue slips into your mouth with ease. He invites you to a dance that's intimate and familiar. "Don't get me wrong," you hum when he breaks away. His breath still fans over your lips. It smells like ale and fruits. "I love your kisses, but you still don't tell me something." Now, the guilt is transparent on his delicate features, and he looks down at your intertwined fingers. The small gesture makes his years younger. "I just…" he sighs. "I just don't want you to find something with the rider that will make you stay with them… with him." "Oh, my love," you laugh, pecking his lips when you notice the slight blush spreading on his cheeks. "There is nothing that makes me stay where you aren't." Your words are followed by another kiss. It's feverish and bruising and makes you lose your breath for long seconds. His hand finds the loose curls at the nape of your neck, and before you know it, you are lying on the grass with Legolas above you. When he looks into your eyes, the glint you know so well by now is back in his bright blue irises. "I love you," he says, caressing the line of your jaw. "I love you too," you hum against his lips before gasping at his sudden touch. " What are you doing?" "Just a reminder of what I can do to you." He bares your legs with a few quick pulls on your dress until his hand finds its way between your thighs. "Legolas," you gasp again, looking around your surroundings. "What if someone sees us?" "I will hear them before they can see us," he promises. "Do you trust me?" The question makes your legs spread open before his caressing touch. "Of course."

His lips wander down your neck, caressing the soft skin there with slow, lazy kisses while his long fingers find their way to your center after pushing your panties aside. His fingertips slide over your fold easily. Your wetness soaks him within a few seconds. "You are so wet already," he hums. His words flutter in your chest. Your heart thuds against your ribcage. "Legolas," you pant his name, grabbing his shoulder. Your other hand tries to find some support on the ground. The grass is soft under your touch. "I'm here, love," he replies. "And I won't go anywhere until you cum around my fingers." Your eyes fall shut as the pleasure flares through your body. It burns your veins and spins the world around you. His thumb draws small circles on your clit, helping you to chase your orgasm. His breath fans over your neck, and his voice make you tremble some more. "Who makes you feel this good?" He asks, and when you don't answer immediately, he doesn't wait to push two fingers inside your aching hole. Your head falls back, and a moan breaks up from your throat. "Say my name, Y/N," the elf demands. "Let everyone hear who you belong to." His name leaves your lover's name in breathless whines as his hand speeds up between your legs. He pushes you to the edge and doesn't give you enough time to process what's happening. "Cum, Y/N," Legolas says. "Make a mess on my hand. Give me something to remember while you are far away from my arms."

Pleasure washes over you as the burning coil snaps in your lower belly. Your muscles jerk, and your breath stops for a long second. Your orgasm comes quickly and powerfully. It feels like Legolas's arms are the only things that keep you in one piece.

When you open your eyes, you see him licking your juices off his fingers. A satisfied smile plays on his lips the whole time. "You will get more when we meet again," he promises.

#legolas imagine #legolas x reader #legolas smut #lotr smut #lotr imagine #lotr x reader #the lord of the rings x reader #the lord of the rings imagine

1K notes · View notes

sanctus-ingenium · 10 months

Note

hi im so sorry if youve already answered this but how do u go about selecting the colors you use for your works!

hi! i've had this question a few times and every time i've only been able to answer with a vague sort of 'ehhh i just pick them'. but i think i'll actually talk some more about it now since a lot of my art actually takes a lot of beating before i decide on a final palette. but with a lot of them admittedly i already know what palette i'm using, and i organise the whole composition around those colours.

i use like two main palette methods and here they are (once you see it in my art, you won't unsee it). It mainly involves picking one main hue, and then a contrasting secondary colour.

So the most basic is to have a drawing be mostly a small range of hues, in this case the reds and oranges, and adding a single contrasting shade. Here it is the bounce light on the metallic metal parts, and doesn't appear anywhere else. It looks blue but it isn't - if I used actual blue, it would be too jarring and the colours would not appear unified. This is a warm and nice scene. So instead I pick that strong blue and blend it into a small swatch of the base colour. Then I pick from the blended portion, and what I get will be more blue than the base, but not actually blue. In fact it is yellow-orange :) The entire drawing looks warm as a result.

When working with marginally stronger contrast, here I have a cream unicorn on a green background. The main shadows on the unicorn will be the colour of that ambient room temperature bg - green. So I use the same test swatch method to pick a shadow colour which LOOKS green without being too disruptive of the cream unicorn. I increase the saturation and darken the value (moving the colour dot diagonally to the lower right hand corner of the box) and also spin the whole wheel towards green just a bit. Then I blend into the cream and colour pick a shade in the middle. But for the bounce light, I chose to use a common contrast of green - pink. It looks like pink in the drawing but in fact it is a low saturation orange! Using that real pink would be disharmonious. I do the exact same thing - I blend the pink into the bg colour and come up with that orange shade. It looks harmonious.

Now (top example) I am using two contrasting hues side by side. I decide the shadows will be warm, and the highlights in that contrasting zone. That means that for every colour i pick - Islin's skin, hair, his glasses, his shirt collar, his coat - every colour gets slid around the colour wheel until it falls inside that narrow band. And when I am highlighting his skin, I turn the wheel towards green. When I am shading his skin, I turn the wheel more red. I do this for every single element in the drawing.

It's the same for the Rua cover but this time I am not using such a wide band of available hues on the colour wheel, it's much tighter. I did this to replicate the look of a faded print, intentionally lowering the available contrast I had to work with by removing black as tool. It's all in that small cream to red window but it LOOKS purple - it looks like Pascal wears a purple shirt and that the smoke in the bg is lilac. Well, it isn't. That's all red and orange. I pick those colours by, again, choosing my goal "look" - a low-saturation purple, and then turning the wheel into the red range.

Okay so! for this it's just... the exact same thing again. Literally it always is. But since this one is recent I still have the process fresh in my mind. I envisioned it in the car, and I wanted this empty sort of desolate blue bg and a cold, distant overall tone. I ended up making the white on the chessboard & white pieces warmer, cream instead of white-grey, which worked out great. I wanted the blue, I wanted the pale cream/white, and the black of the chessboard. I didn't envision a colour for Pascal's shirt. but when the time came it was an obvious choice. It has to contrast with the bg both in value and hue, without falling outside the cream range already established by the chess pieces. So it's shiny salmon pink :) or orange, whatever you think it is. The only disharmonious part of this palette is the red velvet under the black knight piece - it works, but if I'd taken more care I might have spun the wheel more into orange and it would stand out less. But I don't mind.

#info asks #sorry my handwriting. not good

593 notes · View notes

harmonysanreads · 2 months

Note

Since your requests are open, might I suggest vamp lord Venti? Or perhaps something with the vamp lords in general?

i'm glad there's one other person besides me who's interested in the archons as vampire!lords lolol i wasn't sure what to title this but please, accept this humble drabble of them being the siblings ever. note : darling's relationship with nahida is strictly platonic!

This is an extension of this and this concept, which are branched from my vampire!alhaitham au :> written with a yandere setting in mind but nothing of that sort is really going on here, unless you squint.

wc : 1.2k

“Seriously, what was that blockhead thinking when making them share a room with a half-blood vampire of everything?”

“If you can even call this closet a room, Barbatos. There's not even space for us to take an extra step!”

If the word ‘baffled’ would be a person, that'd be you at this instance. You stare questioningly at the figures that now occupy your room, the buzzes of their comments on the poor accommodations that they had provided flies over your head as easily as they leave the lords' lips. A moment’s interlude and five servants enter next, meticulously weaving through the existent personnel.

“Well, I can't say I wasn't expecting this. Half-bloods have weaker impulse control, especially when they have not been ‘fed’ properly. There's no way Morax couldn't have known this. So, he must've had other intentions.”

The lord praised for her unmatched wisdom chimed, inspecting the residual stains of blood on the otherwise vacant walls with curious green eyes. At the side, the lord clad in ocean blue conducts the servants to gather your belongings with haste and the master of songs remained beside your person in his nonchalant haze.

“Uhm, M'lord, am I getting kicked out…?”

Barbatos's gleaming teal eyes meet your tentative gaze. With a chuckle, he places his beret on your head. Instead of words he answers you with a hearty squeeze on your cheeks and you yelp.

“My birdie, how could that thought even cross your head?” even a blind person could feel the pout on the lord's lips. You make a few unsuccessful attempts at riposte and at last succumb to the assault on your cheeks — the sight of which has Barbatos's grin stretched till his fangs peak.

“Cut it out, Barbatos! They've yet to recover from their wounds. You can save your ‘affection’ for a later day.” the lord celebrated for her stage prowess huffs, arms crossed and indignant at the handsy behavior of her fellow Vampire Lord.

The accused vampire frees your cheeks from his clutches. Though you're not gifted with reprieve as his right arm coils around your shoulders next. “You speak as though I'm the most ignorant being to exist! Dear [Name], why don't you tell good Focalors here how much you enjoy being the recipient of my affection?”

You sputter at the heat of the two lords’ gazes. Luck shines upon you and your savior interferes with a cough.

“Allow me to apologize on behalf of everyone, [Name]. Had I been more persistent in ensuring that you wouldn't have to be roommates with that half-blood, this accident wouldn't have happened. I'm truly sorry.”

Nahida's heartfelt condolences paint the atmosphere in a subtle somber hue. Pupils of green flicker to and fro the fresh bandages wrapped around your neck and wrists. You feel Barbatos's fingers tighten around you ever so slightly, it is not until Focalors' chiding words echo that the silence cracks.

“Buer, Buer, Buer. For how long will you continue to take responsibility for others' carelessness?”

“Well, at least she has the courtesy to apologize,” Barbatos idly twirls a strand of your hair, “Unlike a certain brutish blundering buffoon.”

It's quite apparent to you who he addresses so vehemently, though, you're not certain what the cause is behind their blood feud. It's not like you expected to be treated like royalty in a palace full of lethal predators, no one has heard a vampire ever treating a human kindly. You'd even say you were no greater than a slave to everyone in this place, so, the lords' current care confused you greatly.

“Actually, Lord Morax invited me for breakfast this morning. He told me that even he wasn't expecting my ‘roommate’ to betray his command and attack me.”

All eyes snap towards you as those words settle from your lips, you cannot hold back your concern at how quickly they turned their heads.

“He did?” Focalors asks incredulously, the lock of hair Barbatos was twirling falls from his grasp dramatically.

“Yes…he even told me that Lord Shogun had ‘taken care of’ my roommate, whatever that means.” you mutter with uncertainty, gaze flickering between their wide-eyed stares.

Barbatos is the first to recover from that collective befuddlement, “Well, looks like they did something good for once.” he lets go of your shoulder and you almost miss the flash of irritation in his normally tranquil teal eyes. You note how unsettling he sounds with the absence of playfulness. The weight of the lord's beret reminds you of the barrenness of your room and your initial confusion of why they barged in, in the first place.

“Am I really going to be kicked out of the palace?”

Your question comes out more melancholic than intended but, it does its job in getting the vampires' attention. Barbatos begins with a spring in his speech, completely disregarding his earlier odd countenance.

“About that, my birdie, because you're such a delicious mea—ow! I mean, such a precious human, we've decided that from today onwards, your new roommates will be…us!”

Furina's elbow retreats as Barbatos rubs the side of his abdomen with a spiteful look. She takes his beret off of your head and replaces it with her own hat, hurling the former object towards the green-clad lord's face.

“Now, I know what you're thinking, petit agneau. Each of us will be sharing our quarters with you every month. Meaning, one month you'll be my roommate, the next Buers, then Barbatos's and it'll rotate like this. Isn't that the most excellent idea?”

Judging by Furina's boisterous laughter and the sparkles that float around her, you surmise it must've been her proposal. All of this is happening too quickly and too out-of-nowhere. You're not naive enough to believe that their sudden initiatives are born from unadulterated kindness. In this hidden corner of the world where the self-interest of a stronger life form dominates the hierarchy, it's foolish to rule-out any possibilities of hidden agendas. But precisely due to that reason, clinging to the few opportunities of benevolence are inconsequential for survival — that, in itself, is another form of self-preservation.

“So, I'll be staying with you this month, Lord Focalors?” you ask.

“Well… who'll be the first in the rotation actually hasn't been decided yet.”

“I’ll be the first one.” Nahida, who'd been silent thus far proclaimed ; you tilt your head down to find her dainty fingers holding onto your hand.

Focalors and Barbatos remain frozen with gaping mouths for a few seconds, likely because they were about to say the same thing.

“If I may jog your memory, you both have been tasked with arranging this year's annual spring gala. No doubt you'll both be busy with your own work to pay attention to [Name]. So, it's only logical that she stays with me, isn't it?”

True to her title, Nahida leaves no room for further arguments with her reasoning. A ‘you have a point’ full of disappointment leaves the other two in unison. You catch Nahida's wink as you peer down at her and it makes you wonder. You can never guess what she's thinking but, she's been the only one who's shown you genuine care since you signed your contract with the Vampire Lords. There's a certain... peace about her presence that you can reluctantly believe in, compared to the flightiness of the others, at least.

You spare one last look at the place you used to call your room, the splatters of your own blood remind you again of the terrors of this palace. With a deep breath, you choose to swallow your fear and follow their lead, for now, at least.

162 notes · View notes

s0dium · 2 years

Text

Teachers pet

Professor!Toji x Student!Reader

A/n: This is for @sanoinc collab (sorry if im early)! Hope you guys enjoy. Also if you're a writer and want to be moots, drop by my inbox!

Synopsis: In which you have a deep infatuation with your professor Toji Fushiguro

Warnings: Inappropriate relationship, unprotected sex, rushed sex, pet names, age difference, masturbation, (reader is 18-21 and Toji is in his early/middle thirties) semi public sex, choking, riding, dry humping, spitting, squirting, cum eating

Toji Fushiguro was what all the girls of the campus would talk about and if you were lucky enough to be able to take his class, then you'd understand why.

Its because Toji Fushiguro was an enigma in the most alluring and fascinating of ways.

Everything about him exuded attractiveness and charsima. From how he spoke with conviction in each of his lectures to just how infuriatingly handsome he was, it was almost impossible for you not to slip a hand under your panties to the thought of him on top of you at night.

You swear that every time you lock eyes with his green ones as you sit in the lecture room, your heart stops. And when he says your name, god when he says your name, you wonder if that’s what herion feels like.

You know it’s wrong. You know it’s wrong that you’re spending more time on your appearance before a class, wearing shorter skirts and tighter t shirts in hopes he’d spend a just a second longer looking at you. Or how you sweetly smile at him with glossed lips just to see the scar on his lip move as he smiles back. And you know it’s wrong when you watch the muscles underneath his tightly fitted polo shirt move and you just can’t help but your your thighs together in neediness.

And you know it’s just puppy love. You’ve taken a few psychology classes before so you know it probably has something to do with daddy issues or what ever. But even as you stand in his office you can’t help but let your eyes wander to just how big his hands. And you cant help but wonder how they will feel inside of you.

“Y/n are you listening?”

Tojis stern voice snaps you back and you quickly compose youself.

"Yes, sorry Mr.Fushiguro." You respond as you clear your throat.

Toji raises an eye brow before readjusting in the seat behind a wooden desk and slightly leaning over the surface.

"Miss l/n" His voice lowers and you cant help but shiver "Over the course of this year you have proven to be an exceptionally bright young lady, one of my best students. So why," He reaches for something in the desk draw and pulls out a few papers. "Have you been failing these final tests, just weeks before the semester ends?"

You glance at the tests and gulp, keeping your mouth closed and lips pursed resulting in Toji to let out a sigh.

"Y/n, you know if you continue on this path, you will have to retake this class."

You slowly nod.

"And the remedial class wont be taught by me."

You're face fell upon hearing those words.

"Wait what?" You stammer. "I-I thought, thats not why I-, wait no why didnt anyone tell me I-" You cut your self off when you find your self looking at a wolfish smirk spread across Toji's face.

"So I'm the reason why you're failing." He says slyly and your face immediately erupts into a bright red hue.

"NO! No its not like-well it is but, NO no-"

"Y/n come here."

He cuts your blubbering off by motioning for you to come around the desk toward him. You comply, keeping your eyes glued to the floor as you approach him, playing with the ends of your skirt.

"Y/n."

You dont look up, continuing to play with your skirt with your hands.

"Y/n look at me."

You look up not only when you hear the command but when he grabs one of your hands and holds it in his own.

"Why do you want me to be your proffesor that badly? Its not like im going any where you can always drop by my office to say hello."

You harshly bite your lips at his words and furiously shake your head.

"No Mr.Fushiguro, I cant- its because....."

You can hear your heart beat in your ears and your throat seems to be closing up. You're not even aware that the words are slipping past your lips until you hear your self.

"It's because I like you." Your voice comes out as a meer whisper and you have to bite back the tears that threaten to spill from your face.

"What was that?"

"ITS BECAUSE I LIKE YOU!" You practically yell. "I've liked you seen I first saw you and I cant stop thinking about you Mr.Fushiguro you're all I think about day and night and I know its wrong, I'll get over it but," It was too late, there was no going back now, adrenaline rushed through your veins as you spilled every thought that coursed through you're mind. "I cant help it! You're the reason why I spend so much time getting ready in the morning or why I stay after class to help clean up. So please cut me off now before I say anything more because-"

Sure you asked him to cut you off, but what you dont expect is it to be done by him pulling you down by your hand for a kiss.

It takes you so by surprise that you dont even react for a few seconds, until something clicks in your brain and you immediatly start to reciprocate the kiss.

Its messy, spit smearing on either side of your lips as you both hungrily make out with each other. You let out a soft whine when he brings a hand to the small of your back and guides you ontop of his lap so you're fully straddling him in his chair. You thread a hand through his dark hair in an attempt to bring him impossibly closer to you, so you can taste even more of him warm mouth then you already have.

As you separate for air, a string of spit connects your tongues.

"I've been thinking about you too y/n." Toji says under his breath before diving into another kiss.

You let out a yelp when two of his hands grab either side of your hips and start to grind your cunt onto his hardened buldge underneath his pants. The stimulation to your clit has you whining but its not enough, so you reach down underneath your skirt to move your white panties from your sticky cunt to the side, revealing your bare cunt.

"Oh shi-" You gasp when you feel the friction on your clit and immediately bury your nose into the crook of Tojis neck making him chuckle. It was the type of scent you could breath in over and over again, the type that made your cunt squeeze around nothing and your gut twist. You dont even notice that he's unbluckling his belt and undowing his pants until you feel him reach under and pull out his dick.

You're eyes go wide when you're met with the sight of his angry red tip that was leaking milky white fluids from the slit. It was big, your imagination did no justice to Toji's size. Your mouth goes dry and another wave of arousal washes over you.

"W-will it fit?"

Toji lets out a snort and you notice the glint in his green eyes, how he seems a little more wild, unhinged.

"I'll make it, come on we don't got much time."

Toji guides your hips up so your hole is aligned with his weeping tip. Your about to slowly lower your self onto him when Toji grabs either side of your hips and slams you down onto his dick. A guttural moan escapes from your mouth as the absolute wind is knocked out of you.

Dull pleasure and pain clouds your brain from how the tip of Toji's dick smushes against your cervix and you cant help but let your eyes roll to the back of your head. This feels like a culmination of all your desires, everything you've been dreaming about for the past year, it was all so overwhelming.

"Come talk to me y/n." Its taking every last bit of Toji's self restraint to keep himself still inside you, to check if you're ok before he cant hold back anymore. You felt better than he expected, his fist was nothing compared to the warmth of your wet walls gripping his dick.

“S’fine,” you manage slur out, “M’fine, just feels so good.”

At those words, Toji grabs your ass, the fat of your skin filling the creases of his fingers like dough, and begins to lift you up and down the length of his dick. He is slow at first, letting you get use to his size before you start to take lead; using the strength of your thighs to lift yourself up and down.

"Yeah thats it," Toji hums, moving his hands to lift up your t shirt, cursing under his breath when he see's your not wearing a bra.

You alternate between grinding on him and bouncing up and down and Toji latches his mouth onto one of your bouncing nipples and moans into your skin.

Only seconds later fatigue starts to hit you and your arms and legs begin to tremble. You let out a whine and Toji catches on.

"I got you baby." Toji grabs ahold of the underside of your ass and thrusts up in out of you at a frightening speed.

The pap pap pap of his hips against your fill the room and the chair shakes with every movement. You're both a sweaty moaning mess as you fucked each other in carnal desire; lips frantically attaching to each other in a wet mess and breathing ragged, fast and sometimes slow.

“You’re so warm.” he murmurs into your ear. "Cant get enough of this cunt." Toji chuckles, lowering his head and letting a glob of spit land right on your pulsating clit. The thicker liquid covered it completely, as he pressed his groin on it, making sure that the stimulation of it now is unbearable.

The burning pit of desire in your stomach was causing you to feel something weird, something different.

"Ah, m'feel weird T-t-toji, m'feel different."

"Oh you gonna cum? Better do so soon before class starts."

You dumbly nod at his words grabbing the cloth of his polo shirt for dear life.

Feverishly, your pussy tightens around his cock, your mouth opens but no sounds come out of it. His hands that were holding your legs could feel the apparent shaking while he watched you struggle to contain yourself with the burst of liquid from your entrance.Your orgasms runs through your body like a lighting, igniting every single nerve just to come crashing into you in a wave of relief.

Toji works you through you're orgasm until his hip stuttering as he buries himself deep and comes so hard he's seeing white.

"Oh fuh-" He gasps, eyes fluttering and lips slightly parting, and you swear to god its one of the most beautiful sights you've seen. You whined at the feeling of warm seed filling you up to the brim and you unintentionally, probably instinctually, squeezed around him, drawing more out. Without thinking you reached down where some dripped down at the base and brought the liquid to you're mouth; licking you're fingers clean and savoring the salty taste.

"Shit, you're really a piece of work Y/n."

#toji smut #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk smut #sukuna smut #toji x reader smut #jjk toji #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji drabbles #toji fushiguro #toji thirst

4K notes · View notes

monster-disaster · 9 months

Text

[lion rakshasa] Dain

lion rakshasa!Dain x human!Reader Good to know: smut

Summary: Dain needs a massage.

With a sigh, you open the door to let the warm breeze run through the small cabin. The scent of oils, candles, and cleaning supplies mix with the dry smell of the night. The rush of air caresses your cheeks and plays with your hair as you lean against the door jamb. You cross your arms in front of your chest. Your gaze wanders over the view of the resort.

The other cabins around you are closed. Their windows are dark. You are not surprised, though. It's already late, and you feel the tiredness in your bones and the soreness in your muscles. You almost laugh. You could kill for a massage. Rolling your shoulders, you straighten your posture. The familiar throbbing between your legs is almost painful, and you wish for nothing more but a warm bath and your comfortable bed.

Lush greens and colorful flowers bloom on the side of the road, leading to the pools on your left side. There is a small waterfall that falls from one to the other. The sound is relaxing and seems loud in the silence. The crystal-clear water sparkles under the silvery glow of the moon. Your gaze moves up to the sky, pausing on the glinting stars before dropping on the hotel nearby. Light filters through a few windows. One side of the building is covered with greenery. You can barely see the sand-colored wall underneath the leaves, waving in the rhythm of the wind.

And behind everything, there is the desert with its ever-changing form. Under the cover of the night sky and the stars' gentle glow, the endless sea of sand spreads out as far as the eyes can see. It looks like it melts into the darkness at the horizon. In the distance, grand dunes emerge from the ground with elegant edges and slopes.

"Hey!" A deep voice breaks the silence, and you almost jump from the surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to frighten you. You are the masseur, right?" You smile and shake your head. "It's fine," you tell him. "You are Dain, I hope?" He nods, and you step away from the door to let him in.

The male is burly, even for a lion rakshasa. His mane is a few shades darker than the fur covering his body. He is a mix of muscles and fat. His shoulders are broad, but a slight belly is bulging under the white towel around his waist. The fabric stretches around his trunk-like thighs.

He looks good. He definitely looks good.

You close the door behind you with a soft click.

"You can take off the towel if you want to," you tell him. "And lay down on the table." The male grunts, and with a quick tug, he takes off the towel and puts it on a chair nearby. You can see the muscles of his thighs working as he moves. His tail sways to the side in a gentle rhythm. Your eyes are glued to the hard flesh of his bottom as he lies on his stomach on the massage table. "It won't break under me, right?" He asks. His voice is muffled. "No," you assure him. "You will be fine, I promise."

As you start to work, the soothing scent of the oils you use fills your nostrils. The inside of the massage cabin is covered in an orange hue from the candles. Small flames dance on top of them. The dim light makes the color of his fur darker. They are soft under your hands. His tail still sways left and right, and from time to time, you can hear a deep purr rumbling out of his chest. You can feel it in your core.

Using your body weight, with the heel of your hands, you stroke down the line of his spine until you reach his tail. You knead the hard muscles of his back, changing the motion of your hands every now and again as you watch his reactions. Dain's breathing is calm and even, and slowly but surely, you can feel him relax under you. You circle your thumbs on his shoulder blades, going up to his shoulders. Your fingers dig into him, finding every nerve and knot on your way. When you are done with his upper body, you move to his legs, using your thumb to massage and rub his muscles. "I'm sorry," he grunts when his tail curls around your arm for the second time. You let yourself laugh a little. "It's fine." Your finger slides over his tail, reaching the base. You are careful and gentle as you stroke it. He jumps at the sudden contact but doesn't move to get away. Another rumble breaks through his chest. "Is it good?" You ask him. "Yeah," he grunts. "But it starts to hurt." For a second, you panic, letting go of his tail immediately. "I'm sorry," you gasp. Dain shakes his head. "Not that," he replies, turning to the side, then onto his back. "That." "Oh."

Oh.

A lazy smirk pulls on your lips at the sight. Dain's hard cock bobs as he moves. He is thick and wet from the pre-cum that slips down his shaft. A drop follows the line of a vein on the side of his cock. His balls are heavy between his legs.

You continue your session. Moving from Dain's legs to his upper body, you work on his muscles, letting him relax and enjoy the silence. Your gaze lands on his erection every now and again, but you don't make a move yet. You tease him and massage him all over.

His eyes are closed. An amused smile plays on his lips. "You are the devil." His voice is hoarse. "Am I?" You grin, smoothing your palms down his chest. His fur shines under the dim lights with the lotion you used on him. His cock jerks when your fingers brush the base. Another drop of pre-cum drops down his shaft. "Gods, woman!" Dain groans. You laugh but decide to have mercy on him. He was still more patient than most of your guests.

Your fingers curl around the base of his shaft, squeezing the flesh softly. A low groan echoes off the walls, and you can feel him twitching under your hold. Dain is warm and soft under your palm. The lotion and his pre-cum mix as you move up. Your other hand rests on his thigh. His muscles are tense with anticipation. You feel it too. Need burns your insides as you pump his shaft lazily. You use your thumb to smear his juices even more on his cock, following the thick vein on the side up to the head. Your nail grazes the sensitive skin. The rakshasa shudders under you. His breathing is labored. "Are you sure you are not a cat?" He asks with humor in his voice. "You play with my cock like a new toy." You grin, leaning closer. The air escaping your lips is warm on Dain's erection. "But it is my new toy." His deep laugh ends in a snarl when you lick up on his length from the bottom to the top. You flick the soft skin under the head. His taste is strong on the tip of your tongue. It's salty and makes you want more. You lap up on him again, once, twice, three times. "Fuck!" He growls. The sound vibrates through the air, going straight between your legs. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, you force a smug grin down and take his cock into your mouth. You go inch by inch, letting your lips stretch around him. Keeping your hand on the base, pumping him slowly, you lick and suck on his crown, pressing your tongue into the tip. You can feel him snapping any second, but you are not done yet. You squeeze him, making him snarl again before his breath is taken away as you slide him down deeper into your throat. You hum around his length, letting the vibration of your throat rush up his spine. "Fuckfuckfuck!" Spurts of pre-cum fill your mouth, dripping down on his cock and balls. His hips push up against you, wanting to fuck your mouth. You hum again in agreement, hollowing your cheeks some more. Tears burn your eyes as he starts to move up and down. He thrusts into your mouth hurriedly, chasing his pleasure in your warm, wet mouth. Your tongue is flat against the underside of his cock. "You born for this," he growls. "A warm mouth for all the monsters who come here." You are slick between your legs. Your pussy throbs with desire even though you are already sore because of your previous guests. "You feel so good around my cock! Fuck!" Your free hand from his thigh slips to his balls. They are heavy in your palm as you start to play with them. His cock twitches in your mouth more often than a few seconds ago. "I'm going to cum," he warns, still pushing his hips. Your jaw and throat ache. You let him use you to reach his high. Your hand on his cock jerks him faster, and you bob your head against his thrusts. You want him to lose his mind when he comes into your mouth. The cabin is filled with his groans and moans.

"Fuck!"

He floods your mouth, and you gulp down everything he has to give you. The work of your throat squeezes his cock even more, pushing him harder and harder into his orgasm.

The male needs long minutes to come back to his senses. "Will you be there tomorrow?" He asks, still panting. His voice is hoarse, and his cock lays soft on his thick thigh.

You really want to know how it feels inside you.

"I will write you up."

- Masterlist Mirage Resort Masterlist Patreon

#monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster x reader #monster x human #monster smut #mirage resort

657 notes · View notes

mykneeshurt · 9 months

Text

Absolution

Image from wallpaper flare

Priest! Simon Riley x F! reader AU

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit smut, religious themes, if you're interested in going to heaven this ain't the fic for you, this is incredibly blasphemous so if your easily offended by religious themes being used DNI

100% inspired by @dotcie - you let all your love rot inside you

Thank you to @luminousbeings-crudematter for encouraging this and helping me with multiple ideas and beta reading it for me!

------------

The church was dark, the late evening sun shone through the stained-glass window above the altar. Hues of blue, red, green and purple descended into the empty church. Candles lined the walls, each mounted by a gold baroque style holder. The flames flickered as the warm summer air kissed them gently. Stone arches adorned the walls, each one intricately designed with faces of angels and demons. You walked along the aisle touching each of the pews with your fingertips, the wood was stained a deep walnut colour. Each seat perfectly imperfect, littered with the scars of the congregation who graced their presence.

Your eyes roamed along the paintings of different bible passages, all hung delicately along the sandstone walls. Each painting an abyss of pain and torment, each brush stroke a testament to the sheer emotion the artist must have felt.    As you reached the altar you once again questioned why you were here. You sunk to your knees seeking sanctuary, the maroon carpet offering some comfort to your aching joints. The weight of what you’d done pressed heavily on your heart. So much so silent tears fell, staining the carpet beneath you.    ‘Are you ok?’ A voice from behind you asked, it was gentle and calm. Gasping you spun around, stood before was a shadow of a man. He was tall, his broad physique clearly visible through the shadows. ‘Oh! I’m so sorry I didn’t know anyone else was here’ you stammered, your breath catching in your chest.    He stepped forward out of the shadows and into the light. As the sun rays illuminated him before you his divine beauty was slowly revealed. His jaw was sharp, his lips plump and soft with a small scar cutting through them. His hair was a sandy colour which was swept away from his face, bar a few strands which hung lazily on his forehead. He wore all black, his sleeves rolled up revealing a tattoo on his forearm.    You stayed kneeling, feeling unable to move, unable speak. He stood before you extending his hand to cup your chin, his touch was merciful, soft, all consuming. Slowly he caressed your cheek, his thumb wiping away the solitary tear that stained your skin. His gaze pierced through you, eyes dark and possessive, a foreboding presence lurking in the void.    ‘Tell me what’s bothering you?’ He asked, voice calm but thicker than molasses. You tried to find the words, tried to articulate the feelings deep within you, but the words wouldn’t come. ‘Use your words’ he cooed, still cupping your jaw. All moisture suddenly evaporated from your mouth as you opened your lips to speak. ‘I … I did something bad’ you stammered.    ‘Is it forgiveness you seek?’  ‘Yes Father’ your voice all but a whisper, yet still echoing in the empty church. He hummed to himself, dropping his gaze to your lips. ‘Stay’ he ordered as he removed his hand, a silent whimper falling from your lips as your cheek cooled from his touch.    He walked to the alter and despite his muscular stature he moved almost silently. Like a ghost. As he turned back to you, he held the Ciborium in his hands, the emerald colour contrasting perfectly against his porcelain skin. Towering over you he pulled the host from the cup ‘I have a passage I’d like you to read, but first, take the body of Christ.’    Holding out your hand you waited for him to place it in your hands, except he didn’t. ‘Open’ he said forcefully. Lowering your hand, you opened your mouth sticking out your tongue. A small smirk tugged at your lips as he placed the thin wafer onto it. The host slowly dissolved on the heat of your tongue, as did any remaining sanity. He pulled your lower lip with his thumb ‘good.’    He motioned for you to follow him to the lectern, a black bible with gold rimmed pages sat unassumingly on the shelf. Placing you in front of him he bent you over slightly, your body completely pliable in his hands. He gently skimmed the pages with his fingers, the tattoo now fully visible. Veins kissed the surface of his skin as the defined muscles danced with every movement.

Finally he stopped on the page he was looking for: Proverbs 28:13. His face was dangerously close to yours, so much so you could see the texture of his skin. A small amount of stubble littered his skin as his breath fanned over your neck. Lowering his lips to your ear he whispered ‘read, and no matter what don’t stop.’ His words vibrated down your spine straight to your aching pussy, taking a deep breath you began to read

‘Whoever conceals their sins …' his hand slipped to your lower back, but his eyes were fixed firmly on the text in front of you.

Gulping you tried to continue ‘... does not prosper …' his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, causing you to buck your hips slightly.

‘... but the one who confesses …' a whine exuded from the back of your throat, guttural and desperate. ‘Shhh, keep going’ he whispered in your ear. Swallowing hard you tried again.

‘… and renounces them …’ his fingers slipped past the hem of your panties, the sudden contact made you jump, you bit your lip trying to stifle a moan. ‘Good girl, keep going.’ ‘ … finds mercy.’ As the last word slipped past your lips, he sunk his finger into your wet cunt causing you to lurch forward onto the lectern, gripping the sides for balance. ‘Read it again’ he ordered. Taking a deep breath, you did as you were told, sounding out each word, each syllable laced with desire and pleasure. He slowly added another finger, stretching your pussy with his girth. Your whine rang out in the desolate church, ricocheting off the sandstone walls as he pumped his fingers. He pressed his thumb against your clit, once wet with your tears it was now wet with your arousal.

Soon enough you were tripping over your words, a stuttering mess under his touch. With his free hand he wrapped it around your throat pulling you close to him, his fingers still orchestrating a flurry of moans from you. You were completely lost in him, your jaw slack as whimpers and gasps seeped from your very soul. You were so lost in fact you didn’t even realise he’d manoeuvred you towards the altar, the cool granite kissed your skin as he pressed you against it.

Removing his fingers, he placed them on his tongue savouring your arousal, his gaze once again found yours ‘fuckin sinful’ he growled. Using his muscular arms, he trapped you against the altar the warmth of his skin seeping into yours like a virus. Reaching behind you he grabbed the gold chalice and took a sip of the wine, never once breaking eye contact with you. Gripping your chin, he tilted it, so you were looking directly up at him, slowly he placed his lips against yours allowing the wine to trickle into your mouth. A single drop trickled down your neck, his tongue was soon pressed against your skin lapping it up.

You pulled him by his shirt collar into another kiss, it was velocious and messy. He gripped at your thighs pulling you up onto the altar, tilting you backwards the wine fell causing the once pristine white cotton to turn red with your sins. He nipped at your collar bone as he raked his nails along your skin, moaning into his mouth it was too much but not enough all the same time. He kissed along your torso and onto your abdomen, his lips teased the sliver of skin which poked out between your top and skirt. Goosebumps trickled along your skin as he bit the sensitive skin.

Pulling at his hair you silently begged him to continue, silently pleading with him to taste you. Keeping his eyes on yours he lifted your leg onto his shoulder, he ripped your panties at the seam and placed his lips onto your weeping cunt. The sudden intrusion caused you to arch your back and moan into oblivion. His eyes pierced yours as he moved his tongue in languid motions, each swipe pulling another whimper from your chest. You gripped his hair digging your nails into his scalp, God rays cascaded around you encapsulating you both in this moment of pure sin. As the priest looked up you could have sworn it was Lucifer himself staring right back at you.

‘Fuck … don’t stop’ you whined, finally finding words to use, finally finding your voice. Kissing his way back up your body he hovered over you for a moment, his stare intense and dominating. ‘Simon’ he muttered. You hummed, not quite catching what he said. ‘My name … Simon’ he repeated, edging closer to your lips once more. Pulling your lips open he allowed a dribble of saliva to drop into your mouth, instinctively you swallowed allowing the ribbon of spilt to glide down your throat.

‘Please fuck me Simon’ you said as you placed your lips on his once more. Pulling away he unbuckled his trousers allowing his cock to spring free. Still staring at you intently he began to pump his hard cock ‘allow me this and I shall absolve you of all your sins.’ You could hear how breathless he was behind his stoic demeanour, a man on the edge of losing control.

‘Yes Father, please.’

Slowly he pushed into you, once again stretching your cunt, the sting was delicious. You both gasped as he filled you to the brim, bottoming out in one swift motion. He placed his forearms next to your head as strands of hair fell forward framing his face perfectly. The sun had moved slightly causing the coloured glass to reflect onto your bodies as you became one. He kissed you again, except this time you bit his lip causing it to bleed, ‘hmm, the blood of Christ’ you said smirking. Lowering his head to your neck he smiled into your skin ‘Amen.’

He began to move his hips back and forth, caressing the sweet spot within you. The sound of skin on skin reverberated in the church, filling the once silent, once holy place with the sin of lust. Placing his hand around your throat he hissed through his teeth ‘beg me for forgiveness, for I will be your absolution.’ Tears stung the corners of your eyes as he fucked you on the altar, each thrust took you to a new level of pleasure. You ran your nails along his shirt, desperately trying to imagine what his skin felt like. ‘Please, forgive me’ you whined as you rolled your hips into him ‘please father … please.’

Upping his pace, he held onto your hips as he dug his fingertips into your flesh. Small grunts and breathless whimpers filled the space between you as he allowed himself to give into his primal desires. Rolling his hips, he dragged his cock against your cunt making you feel every movement, every thrust, every inch of him. Pulling your hand off his back he placed it on your clit ‘show me’ he murmured ‘show me how you like it.’ Feeling yourself instantly tighten you began to play with your clit, you watched as he dropped his eyes to watch the show you were putting on for him, his mouth opening slightly before biting his lip.

Your breath began to catch in your throat as you felt yourself on the brink of orgasm, as your eyes rolled you caught sight of Mary looking down on you, watching you getting fucked within an inch of your life on the once pure altar. Wrapping your legs around him you pulled him closer, not wanting to let him go. ‘Faster’ you begged, ‘harder Father please.’ He let out a slight chuckle of disbelief, once again placing his hand around your throat ‘you’re insatiable.’ Biting your lip you giggled, but that giggle was soon replaced with a broken guttural moan as he slammed his hips into yours. This was enough to push you into the blinding light of your orgasm, your back arched off the wine-stained cloth as you came around his cock. Shockwaves of pleasure shot through every fiber of your body as rode out your high.

As the white noise from your orgasm finally dissipated your eyes met with his, his gaze was piercing, all knowing and consuming. His pace became sloppy, knowing he was close you sat up and pushed him away. Turning him round so his back was now against the altar you dropped to your knees, staring up at him like you did mere moments ago. You placed his cock on your tongue as the sweet bitterness of your combined arousal seeped over your tongue, ready to receive him. He looked down on you blocking out the sun, the light giving the illusion of a halo around him, but you knew when you were looking the devil in the face.

Slowly you took his cock to the back of your throat, the change in sensation causing him to throw his head back and hiss. He cradled the back of your head as you bobbed back and forth, humming a hymn softly to yourself, praising the man before you. The humming caused vibrations to travel down his thick cock adding a whole new layer of pleasure to this already wicked act. He became breathless as you worked his cock in your mouth, you could feel the change in him as you dragged your tongue along his shaft. ‘Yes’, he whispered softly, repeating it like a prayer. Looking up at him you pleased with him to let go, to finish what he’d started.

And that he did. You kept looking up at him as he came in your mouth, doe like eyes eager to please the man in front of you. His mouth was parted slightly as ragged breaths fell from his lips; he caressed your jaw as you swallowed. His touch just as soft and possessive as before.

-----------

LMAO see you in hell x

@cowyolks @strlingsav @ave661 @glitterypirateduck @soapyghost

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley #fan fic smut #simon riley au #simon riley smut #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #alternate universe #ghost cod smut

741 notes · View notes

nexusnyx · 1 year

Note

For daddy Bucky<3

“Nobody will know if you’re quiet”

jade green daydream

dbf!bucky x f!reader ; [3.7k]

⚠️ minors dni, explicit content. | 🏷️ daddy, established relationship, secret encounter, laundry room sex, semi-public sex (they're at a party?), soft!dom!bucky, orgasm delayal.

Usually, Bucky was better at hiding how much he wanted you.

That's why you pulled this move tonight—using the jade green dress that Bucky had bought you had been bold. Daring. A little bratty, if you would. Not something his usual 'good girl' would do, but something that needed to happen.

Defying Bucky had been buried deep inside your mind since the second you first laid eyes on him, three years ago at your eighteen birthday party, and it had never left. Never diminished or dissipated, not even with him finally giving everything you wanted: the attention, the touches, the praise, the feelings, the rush.

Bucky had been yours for a whole year now, but the first six months of trying were a tentative, rocky road.

Now was when you were putting your claws out.

And the effect... it was beautiful.

At first, you think your shot's wasted.

When you first walked in, Bucky had only looked.

Fixed, frozen, under a spell.

Not a muscle moved in his body, but that, you were used to. Initially, you had mistaken it for hatred, even. A deep dislike, or perhaps indifference. The man your father introduced as "this is James, darling" looked stoic, serious, and every bit as business-like as any other one of his boring, old colleagues. As beautiful as a man could be—his beard had initials signs of the grey taking over him, and even in his slicked back hair the platinum strands shone under the party’s light, as a bold and clear statement that James sent: he had no shame in them.

Who the hell would have? He’s Adonis.

Adonis proved to be more than a lifeless, made-of-numbers guys.

There was no bark in him—Bucky kept things polite, classy, and elegant most of the time.

He never cursed. Always smiled in contained ways—his jokes were never crude, and your father loved him. “So good, that kid,” he said, multiple times over that first year. Bucky quickly made his way into your father’s small and annoying little circle of men that often showed up at the mansion for their gin or bourbon, pool games and Cuba cigars.

The first time his mask slipped, you knew it had been the alcohol.

Just like tonight.

Bucky kept it cool, at first.

He smiled in your direction, but soon was back at talking in his melodic and pleasing tone with your mother and a few of her work colleagues about the intricate but delicate state of modern art work creation in the rooms of Hollywood; entertaining enough for her circle of friends, and interesting enough for you to stick around.

It was her birthday. You couldn’t be mad at Bucky for giving her attention.

But damn it, you hoped for more.

The dress received looks when you walked in.

It reminded you of the feeling of putting it the first time in that Valentino store in Paris. The secret gateway weekend with Bucky where you were finally allowed to hold his hand somewhere, and where he let out his inner lion.

The image of Bucky with a champagne glass in hand in that enormous leather cream couch, with his legs spread wide open in the most douchebag pose you had ever seen—it suited him. It fucking clicked with his expensive suit and shoes, and that smug corner-of-the-lip smile that only you seemed to see, it burned behind your eyelids.

Dreams ever since you came back from that fortnight in a parisian dream molded themselves around the crinkle in his eyes, and were often painted in hues of light, sapphire, and royal blue.

If those all complimented his eyes and the way they glowed like starlight when looking at you… well. That was between you and the four walls of your bedroom.

“Darling,” your mother called your attention.

Right.

Clearing your throat, you nodded, and ripped your eyes away from his black suit. “I’m sorry—I’m trying to remember all the good movies he wrote, but I’m coming up empty,” you joke.

The circle around you laughs, and your mother rolled her eyes fondly. “I don’t know why I ask an Art graduate and expert her opinion. Honestly—it’s impossible to please you.”

“You know what they say about apples and trees,” you sing song.

With a kiss to your temple, your mother laughed some more, and then launched on back on her opinionated rant of the director you had barely heard the name, and that’s when you first saw—

the first slip.

Bucky wasn’t looking at your face.

Instead, his eyes were glued to your exposed thigh. The slit of the dress was high, very high, and according to him on the store, one of the main reasons why he loved the design on you so much.

His love for your whole body had been noted, written, painted, and marked by him. With his lips, his fingers on piano keys, his hands tracing all over your naked body while he sat almost fully clothed inside his art studio.

Of course it would be the leg.

Feeling boldened by his eyes on you, the leg does it on its own—a slight and gentle tilt upwards, and his eyes snap in your direction.

His gaze holds yours for just one second, and you can feel the heat taking over you.

That’s when the game starts.

Forbidden, as much as it can be, but a dance that you two have grown great at: the subtle art of threading silk-thin lines connecting you two until an entire conversation existed without a word being said. Looks that went on all night, revoking each other’s attentions from conversations all the other way from across a room, until the first one has lost all focus, all notion of where the conversation went, lost.

He did it better than you.

Bucky could keep his composure for longer, which is why you had brought in the big guns.

You wanted to see him lost in desire, if only for once.

Wanted to see him blushing, in the same way you were left many times just by the sheer presence of him standing behind you.

Only when you see him swallowing thickly the bourbon in his hands is that you note that the dress is working.

Not once before was Bucky so… adamant, about looking at you.

But there he is—with his eyes fixed on you from across the pool.

Staring at you from inside the kitchen while you speak with friends outside.

Finding a way to always be in your line of sight, somehow—or better yet, a way for you to be in his.

It takes a little over an hour before he disappears, and ten minutes more after that for you to finish your way in the conversation you are to go and look for him.

With the party in full swing, it’s easy for you to lose other people, but with the size of your goddamn house, you’re roaming aimlessly for a while.

He must sense it, because a message arrives.

Him 🖤 Your favorite hiding spot, missy…

Laundry room.

You try to keep composure as you walk there, but it’s hard.

It’s been a while, and you’re still wondering, day after day, how is it that Bucky has this type of control over you. Whether it’s normal to be this attracted to another person; a pull that seems to have its own magnetic field. Its own North.

Between you and Bucky there is gravity—unique, intense, and solid. It has its own life. It pulls and calls to you. Just like always, you find him almost as if on instinct; this would be the next place you were going to after checking the cellar.

When you open the door, he’s standing right there.

Hands in his blazer pocket. The bourbon glass empty, placed right next to him.

Bucky looks up when you open the door, and smile.

Storms could start breaking the skies at this moment, and you would hear nothing. The room is filled in one second; it goes from empty to a box of pure electricity in the span of a second, and both of you are to blame.

What seconds ago smelled like fabric softener of the best kind — something aprhodisiac, sweet, and yet comforting — starts smelling like lust.

Bucky’s eyes finish drinking you in, and then chuckles. “What?” His voice is low, as always. “I don’t bite, duchess.” A lie.

His right hand exists the pocket, and his fingers make a ‘come hither’ motion.

North, meet South. Like gravity happens when an object is dropping mid-air, his fingers create the invisible thread, and your body waltzes inside. The door is closed with the heel of your shoe, and the sound of the door clicking is comforting.

In a few steps, you’re standing right in front of him, and the first thing you do is breathe.

A deep, steadying breath. His eyes are on the cleavage of your dress when his arms wrap around your waist. “God, this was the best thing I’ve ever purchased,” he whispers, pulling you closer to him.

Your hands come up to his chest, soothing the silky smooth fabric. “Was it?”

“A hundred per cent.”

That’s a bold statement. You giggle, rising your body slowly to get your face closer to his. “You’re a multi-millionaire investor who owns property from California, to Tokyo, to Dubai… and this is your peak?” The smell of his aftershave is intoxicating. How the fuck can that be? One deep inhale and you’re no longer here; you’re in Bucky Land, where everything about his existence is amplified and everything else is background noise.

His hands are spread wide on your lower back, massaging in a gracious touch wherever they go. “Affirmative.” Sometimes, Bucky’s old military comes out to play. Without a fail, you shiver every time. “Look at this,” he whispers back, hand continuing on its infinite mission.

“My hands have a mission, Duchess.”

“Do they?”

“They do.”

“And what would that be, hm?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Hmmm… not really.”

“This… right here.”

“Touching me?”

“Precisely.”

“Oh…”

“Touching all of you. For as long as you let me. In every possible way that can make you smile. In every way that can bring you pleasure.”

Pointing out that looking at yourself right now is the last thing you want would be rude, so instead, you nuzzle against his neck, pleased with the attention you’re finally receiving. His hands caress your ass without groping, touch on the side of your waist, and he seems to be as lost on your body as you are on his cologne.

“I thought we had a deal,” Bucky’s tone was so even.

You, on the other hand, could already feel the effects of his presence. “What deal?”

His next hum preceded the condescending tone of his, “Playing the act of dumb kitty, are you?”

You giggled. “I didn’t do anything to break our deal.” No more sex at your parents’ house, Duchess. This… this is the last time. Deal? “I behaved. All night long.”

“I’d spank you if I didn’t know how loud you get.”

That alone pulled out a whimper. Made your inner thighs clench together.

“See?” Bucky chuckled, sounding already so evil. “You’re already running hotter than a Californian summer afternoon. How can you have been behaving?”

“I didn’t—” his hand on your dress slides to the exposed thigh, and when they make contact with the skin, your breath hitches. “I didn’t do anything,” you insist, albeit a little more breathless.

Against your will, your body’s already pushing closer to his.

Bucky plays along. He caresses your inner thigh, and his eyes close when he feels your breathing spiking. When he asks you next, his voice is an octave lower. “This dress isn’t you doing something?” The question is rhetorical. When his fingers are tracing lines that lead to your inner thigh, anything is rhetorical because all you can think about is what you feel—him. He pushes on, “‘Cause I could swear it was you doing something, very clearly,” and then he grips. His whole hand squeezes around your thigh, making you clench once more.

If there was a game — there was —, then Bucky wins. (He always did.) If there was a game, this is the point where you forget if there are rules or not, because his hand that was on your lower back climbs through your back until it lands on your nape, and the firm grip it puts in there grounds you to Earth again. You’re thankful for him, even if your mouth feels like cotton candy. “You bought it for me,” is your weak excuse.

His laugh in your ear means he buys it, to some degree. “I did.” Finally, finally, he seems to get enough of looking. Bucky’s head dips lower until his lips are hovering over yours. “But you also remember what I did that night.”

Another whimper, and much louder this time.

“Put on the dress, Duchess. Only the dress. I’m gonna fuck you with it still on, just like you wanted me to do at that store, right on that balcony. For the entire city to hear. And they’ll hear you, right? They’ll hear how fucking good Daddy makes you feel.”

“I guess you do remember,” Bucky smiles.

“It wasn’t that long ago.”

His hand in your thigh pinches you skin, making you whine, and his smile turns wicked. Turns into a Chesire cat grin. “She’s so smart tonight.” Bucky leans until only a breath separates you two. “Smart mouth.” His hand dips lower, higher, and your legs spread apart almost as if on command. “Smartypants…” they go searching.

They find the panties, but Bucky knows his way around them with eyes closed and hands tied behind his back at this point.

When he pushes them to the side, you all but melt against his weight.

It’s a testament to how much you two have done this, to all the positions and situations that he’s placed you in that your body knows that he’ll catch you without even asking. Your eyes close when his fingers make a slow path between your folds.

They find what they always do—a river, a waterfall, the sticky sweet fact that he’s been affecting you all night long.

He groans, and at last closes the space between your lips.

It’s in his mouth you muffle the obscene sounds you want to let out. Bucky’s middle and ring finger are spreading the lips of your pussy apart to spread your slick on your clit, and his kiss has the languid and expert patience of someone who knows the precise way to melt you with his mouth. He pushes and pull until you two are in the same rhythm, and then sucks on them until your mouth opens up for him.

Your arms cling around his neck.

Kissing Bucky while he makes slow work of your clitoris is the best kind of torture. He’s patient, his hands have enough skilled dexterity for him to make a pool of wetness between your legs before slowly pushing his fingers in while the other massages the neck that holds you pinned to him, and if it weren’t for his weight pressed on one of the washing machines behind him, you’d be on the ground.

So slow. He moves like a jaguar that has spot its prey and is only making its way to it—eyes fixed, fingers buried in deep, mouth swallowing down all the noises. When air is needed and both of you pull back for it, Bucky’s pink lips are connected to yours by a string of saliva, and he’s massaging the spot he’s already found inside of you.

Each groan next becomes a silent scream.

He seems to hear them either way. “God, duchess…”

“Buck—”

“Shhhh.”

Bastard. “Too good—Buck—fuck—”

“I know, I know. Shhhh.” He laughs again, pushing his fingers deeper this time. “I know just how you like it, hm?”

“Yes.”

“Good. But you gotta remember… there are still people outside.” Your whine means that reminder is the last fucking thing you need. “Don’t worry… Nobody will know if you’re quiet.”

Does that mean he’ll let you cum? God, you hope yes. Bucky’s pressing your spot repeatedly, and your legs already feel weaker. You never have any clue how his hands never hurt from doing this, but Bucky will sometimes make you cum two times just like this before fucking you at last, and if you had never seen him work out, you’d be scared for his wrists.

Being quiet is a task.

But the edge is so close, and everything feels so good, that you ignore everything.

“Fuck,” you can feel a single drop of sweat forming underneath his palm at the back of your neck. The air around you two is hotter as well, and you can feel the snap of your orgasm approaching with each deep thrust of his fingers. “Daddy…”

As if you had said the magical word, Bucky does the last thing you’d expect.

He pulls his hand out, leaving you feeling empty and burning.

Your gasp of shock makes your eyes snap open, and there he is, sucking his slicked fingers into his mouth, and closing his eyes in pleasure.

What the—”Bucky.”

“That’s for wearing this without giving me any warning.” The statement comes out sharp, but not unkind. Fuck. Punishments are so rare that you almost forgot they’re a thing, and your next whine sounds like a choked sob. “Don’t gimme those sad eyes.” Bucky leans closer to your face. “Do you know what you did to me?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“I almost got hard, right there in the middle of the party. You put highlighter on your collarbones, Duchess. You’re wearing my favorite perfume on you, and god…” he holds you by your arms to pull you back so he can look at you again, from head to toe.

You imagine what a sight you must be.

The things he’s seeing right now.

Your hair must be frizzly—static, and everywhere. Your cheeks are on fire, for certain. As red as your chest, and as warm as the inside of your legs.

Bucky’s eyes are almost all black, no blue.

“Do you know what I left to do?” he asks.

You shake your head, trying both to answer you and clear your mind to ask him for something, for please, some mercy. For him to do anything; take whatever he needs, but just give you one bit of release, when he puts his hands in his pocket again and—

a condom.

Bucky left the party to go to his car, and retrieve a condom.

Your eyes widen, and he laughs at you.

“Yeah.” He sounds as in disbelief as he looks. “Even though this is the last thing you deserve—fuck, I should edge you ten more times before doing this, but you win. Okay? Tonight, you fuckin’ win.” Bucky rips the packet open with his teeth, and that’s when you look down.

When you notice that all this time when you leaned against his torso and rubbed yourself back on his hand, shamelessly searching for your own pleasure, Bucky had been rock hard. The tent in his pants made you almost lose every inch of composure you had—you almost drop to your knees right there and then, but you know he has other plans.

Instead, you turn around, and lean forward against the nearest surface.

You hear him curse in the back. Hear him take off his blazer, and with a side glance, see him place it next to the glass. You observe him roll up his sleeves, and for a second, your gazes meet. Bucky smiles at you, and you try your best not to wiggle your ass. When you hear the sound of his zipper, and the sound of Bucky putting on the rubber before his broad frame is clouding behind you again, you sigh, content.

It’s a hasty dream after that.

An usual song for you. The way Bucky slicks himself up with you is your bourbon, and your pussy all but sucks him in. He bottoms out with a soft grunt, and his levarage is gained by taking hold of all of your hair in one hand.

He leans in closer until his face is on the crook of your neck, and it’s with lips pressed on your earlobe that he asks, “Slow or fast, Duchess?”

You’re so close. “Fast. And deep.” You’re already half gone. “Please.”

He never fails at delivering.

This time, Bucky doesn’t stop.

When he starts, it takes only a minute for Bucky to gain momentum. He takes his time at first, angling his hips in a slightly different position at each thrusts until he finds the one that makes you clasp your hands around his with nails and all—that’s when he puts a hand over your mouth, pulls you like that until you’re half-facing him, and starts a fast, deep, and brutal pace.

He fucks you until you’re both closing your eyes at the feeling, drunk in lust and the nasty, wet sounds filling the room. Bucky snaps his hips until your eyes are rolling at the back of your head; the rhythm is everything you needed, craved for all night long.

It was your goal when you put on the dress.

The dream you had when you first saw it on a window in an unknown street.

Bucky fucks you until you’re shaking, spasming and cumming all over his dick. That’s when he finally grunts and lets it go; when he buries his face in your neck and whispers your name, his hips finally slowing down inside of you.

It takes a while before either one of you is back to reality.

He speaks up first.

“I should buy you more stuff.”

↳ my inbox 💌 | tip jar ♡ | masterlist ↲

1K notes · View notes

stargirl-int3rlud3 · 2 months

Text

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬.

yuji itadori x fem! reader

🗯️! minor injury, established relationship, kissing!

synopsis; it’s finally warm out in japan, so as a treat yuji takes you on a sweet date to go strawberry picking — ♡

Finally the winter-y cold months had past and it was now time for spring. The air smelled fresh as you soak up the sun’s warm rays. You couldn’t deny it, spring was your favorite season, the fresh fruit, the warm sundress worthy days, the light drizzling of rain. It was all perfect to you. Almost as perfect as your perfect boyfriend, Yuji Itadori. The sweetest sweetheart you’d ever had the graces of laying your eyes upon. As you stood outside your dorm enjoying the sun and watching Yuji make his way towards you. He was wearing a light brown, sandy, pair of shorts and a yellow t-shirt with a cute smiling sun in the middle. The second he saw you were staring at him he sprinted at you like a happy puppy seeing their owner after they get back from work. Yuji scoops you up and twirls you two around making the both of you laugh wholeheartedly. The feeling of your chest pressed up against Yuji’s chest and the quick rise and fall of it from his laughter makes you shy as you hide your face in your hands. With the most care anyone’s ever touched you with, Yuji pulls your hands away from your face so he can admire the pink hue spread across your features, smiles as soft giggles fill in the space between you two. Yuji let’s out a loving sigh, one that makes you want to pass out right on the spot. You were internally squealing as he reaches his rough, calloused hands to your face. Lightly he grazes his middle finger across your smile lines. Your heart becomes heavy as a lovesick feeling dwells in your stomach. Yuji’s lips finally make contact with yours , that’s when you can taste your own vanilla chapstick on his lips. You push his lips off yours and raise one of your eyebrows.

“Yuji Itadori, why are you wearing my chapstick?”

“Oh! You left it at my dorm the last time you were over and i thought it’d be cute if I wore some and we kissed. Is it weird?”

You wrap your arms around Yuji’s neck as his hands softly lay on your hips, “It’s not weird, it’s really cute, the cutest”

“Nah, you’re the cutest” His presses a soft, butterfly kiss to your nose.

He interlocks his hand with yours walking with your to the bushel’s of strawberry plants that were acres upon acres long. He swore they went on for an eternity, but he really wouldn’t mind if he got to spend an eternity picking strawberries with you. You crouch down and start picking away and fro a few seconds Yuji just stares. He stated at you a lot, like you were the most interesting thing he has ever seen. Of course it made you shy sometimes, but you appreciated the sentiment.

You realize he just stood their, so you look up from your spot at your boyfriend, but the sun’s too bright so you shade it with your hand to clearly see Yuji smiling with heart eyes practically protruding out of their sockets.

“Yu? Are you alright, handsome?”

Blinking himself out of his trance, “Huh? Oh! yeah, sorry”

His shy smile as he rubs his neck makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild in your stomach. He crouches down beside you filling his basket with strawberries similar to what you were doing.

As 2 hours pass, you decide that it’s time to go back to your dorm so you could start making jams and other sweet treats. Once you’re back at your dorm, you try one of the strawberries.

At least half of the strawberry is in your mouth when Yuji asks, “Can I have one?”

You hand him one but he puts it back in basket leaving you confused, before you can pull the starwberry out of your mouth Yuji pulls off the green leaves with one quick yank as he sinks his teeth in the other side of your strawberry. A bright red hue covers your face, too distracted by your boyfriend staring into your soul merely centimeters away from you, you accidentally bite your tongue.

You pull away from the strawberry leaving it to Yuji, “Ouch..”

“Oh my goodness! Love, I didn’t mean to are you okay?”

“Mm..” You frown at the metal-y taste now forming in your mouth.

“Want me to kiss it better?” Yet another wave of red coloring floods to your face at his words.

You look at him, a sly smile kissing his lips. You push him away from you.

“Jerk” you mumble with a small smile.

“Aw, I’m sorry, what do I have to do to have you forgive me? I’ll do anything” Yuji asks with a sincere look in his eyes.

“I just want you” Is all you say, resulting in Yuji kissing your forehead and laying his head on top of yours.

☆ | GAHHHHHH i love writing fluff it makes me so happy and joyous!!

#luv₊˚꒰🩰꒱‧#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #jjk yuji #yuji itadori x reader #itadori x reader #yuji x reader #itadori yuji #character x reader #x female reader #fem reader #x reader #female reader

146 notes · View notes

avatarkv · 11 months

Text

V ! I Know it's for the better. Know it's for the better.

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing.

Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 5057)

Song: Waiting Room, Phoebe Bridgers.

“Can you hear me, corporal?” He chuckles, “Yeah. I think you can.”

"If you so much as lay a finger on her, consider yourself a dead man.” Your father seethed through the intercom that you could feel his very rage– it frightened you, almost more so than being captured by Quaritch. Jake wasn't the kind of man who liked to make idle threats; it was his commitment that made him the perfect olo’eyktan, but it was purely love that made him the father he is today.

You knew very well what he was capable of.

You tugged at the binds, desperate to loosen them but to no avail. Squirming uncomfortably in your seat, despair settled into your chest like lead and you felt helpless. You didn't even put up a fight to begin with; all those training, just to end up at the root of it all. You could only glare at Quaritch while he looked down at you, fingers pressing the pager on his ear.

“Now don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you have your father’s eyes.” His remark made your gaze falter, disgust coursing through your body. “You know what to do, Jake.”

“Don’t touch her, asshole! She’s just a kid–

“Might’ve gotten a few scratches in, but nothing a few bandaids can’t fix.” Quaritch looks you up and down, a smirk playing on his lips, “Don’t worry, we show visitors the utmost respect here. I’m certain you’d know our customs around these parts, marine.” His tone is slightly aggressive and there's an air of smugness in his words– he’s provoking him, taking pleasure in knowing that he has the upper hand.

Scratches my ass. They gave you one hell of a shot on your side when they tried to kill off your ilu and they did nothing but put some ragged cloth to stop the bleeding. You knew it wasn’t any deep, but it still hurt– not to mention you’ve lost a lot of blood from their harsh tugging. You wince, thinking about it. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline coursing through your body, you would’ve been in a whole lot of pain.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Same as before. You for her.”

Their voices melted into the background, like a low hum of static passing through your ears. Despite the noise, you feel yourself attune to it after a while and allow yourself to drift away. Eventually, it tuned itself out and you were surrounded by an almost eerie silence.

Your father had said something, you remembered, something you had missed.

You had missed the looming aircraft above– unlike the usual helicopters you knew, this one flew stealthily, as if it was designed to lurk and catch even the slightest of movement. At first, they thought it was merely a lone ilu; they were now at the reef, after all. Your color blended almost perfectly with its skin, movement as fluid as the raging sea. They had shot it, grazing its fin.

“Mawey, mawey!” You had screamed in panic, trying to hold on to its thrashing body. “Dad–”

The ilu struggled, bellowing in pain. It was impossible to form a bond, let alone control your breathing– the bluish-green waters were now tainted with a faint, crimson hue. Blood; familiar blood, painful red.

“__, listen, I’m gonna find you, okay?” It was difficult to make out the words he had spoken over the loud static of the pager. The radio waves were making it hard for either of them to hear properly. Trying again, he shouted, “Sweetheart, I’m–”

From there, they had spotted you; a forest na’vi, sticking out like a sore thumb. Quaritch had most certainly hit the jackpot upon seeing that it was none other than Jake Sully's eldest daughter.

You wondered what he could have uttered in that moment before Quaritch and his people had rushed to get to you. Could it have been an apology– a sorry you’ve been longing for? Sweetheart, I’m sorry for being so tough on you. I’m sorry we had to leave home– leave him. I’ll find you and you’ll be okay. We’re going home.

But the thought of facing his disappointment again plagued you; once it had been his love that held you together, but now this fear kept your feet firmly planted on the ground.

Sweetheart, I’m disappointed in you– how could you put yourself in this situation? How could you put everyone in danger again? What would Neteyam think? I’m tired, __. You tire me.

Yeah, that was surely it.

Your eyes wandered around the room; the unfamiliar white walls reminded you just how far away from home you were and perhaps this time, you could never return.

Quaritch grabs your braid in his fist, tugging on it with a vice-like grip and forcing you to look up at him. You stifle a cry of pain, feeling the throbbing ache all across your scalp as his grip tightens around it. He tugs on it further, wanting a sound out of you, but all you could let out was a loud hiss. “Can’t hear your father, darling, think we have to put on a show.” He sneers, “You must not really love your children, Jake.”

“I understand already–! get your fucking hands off her!”

“I don’t think you understand, really.” Quaritch taunts.

A beat of silence passes before your father's desperate voice echoes through the intercom. “Please,” he pleads, “Don't hurt my daughter."

“There we go,” He finally releases your hair, “I’ll be waiting, Jake.”

Quaritch removes the pager, discarding it on the table just in front of you.

“You must be very disappointed in yourself,” A low hiss erupted from your throat as you gazed upwards. He sat in front of you, mockingly close, yet far enough that you couldn’t do anything but glare. “Does this not remind you of a familiar night?”

“They are coming for you,” Your tone was menacing– livid, as the words snarled from your lips. “And when they do, you’re gonna wish that you’ve let yourself rot in that shack.”

It flashed through his mind– a glimmer of your mother that burned fiercely; a warning. Quaritch straightened his posture, chuckling. “That traitor is coming to save his dear daughter in distress, much like your brother had. We know how it'll end.”

“Not until he kills you first,”

“You’re in a different boat, kid, away from the main one. What happens if I tell him he’d been too late and I got bored?” He shakes his head, snickering, like he had figured it all out– like he had carefully planned for everything to work out just so.“That this kid had too much of a mouth on her that I had to cut her throat?”

His words had struck you– a low blow. You feel as if your mouth has suddenly gone dry and the lump that appears in your throat lodges itself there stubbornly, refusing to move. No words came out of your lips, but a pathetic low sob. He was going to kill your father and he could succeed in doing so. “You’re one sick man.”

“You know your brother didn’t have to die,” His voice held no remorse and you wondered how someone could sleep so soundly. He stands up, dusting his pants, “But your father had it coming. Now stay here and be a sweetheart.”

Before he walked out, Quaritch had looked down on you one last time. There, you realized that you doomed yourself beyond salvation. You were nothing and he made sure of that— had cut you on a barely healing wound and now it reopened, bleeding more than ever.

Eywa must’ve turned her back. No child of hers would have suffered such trouble– and you were young. So young, you think that the stories of her were absurd. One more miracle, you needed just one more.

The lights dimmed when the doors closed, leaving you in the dark with your thoughts.

They were arguing again.

Tuk was nestled close to Kiri, the two of them huddled together in front of the table. Lo'ak sat on the other side, rising slightly from his seat in an effort to eavesdrop and make out whatever he could hear from their parents’ conversation.

Something was off and gravely so. Nothing ever good rooted from a fight and they barely do, not until the past occurrences. It had to be the sky-people.

“I don’t feel so good,” Tuk muttered, her grip tight around her belly as if she could hold in the pain. “The last time this happened was when we left our home.”

“We’re not leaving, Tuk.” Kiri quickly assured her.

Their meal had gone cold and the silence was deafening. They all waited with baited breath, trying not to fidget or move. The suspense was growing thick in the air and they didn't know how much longer they could bear to remain idle, wondering what the hell was happening.

As if their prayers had been answered, Jake hurriedly walks inside, eyes falling to his panicked children. It made his heart more and more heavy, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort them. Neytiri had already gone to Ronal’s

“Kids,” His voice was low and firm, and it made his shoulders stiff in anticipation, “Make sure everyone stays here. No one goes out the reef, understand?”

“Wait—” Lo’ak abruptly stands up, staggering to his feet. “What’s happening? Where’s __?”

“They took her.” It was all the answer he needed. The sky-people had found them. “Lo’ak, stay here with your sisters. I mean it.”

“You can’t expect me to stay here while __ is in danger—”

“I need one child! One child to listen when I tell them to stay,” He raises his voice with every word, but it wavers as he speaks— Jake could barely keep himself together, eyes betraying his authority. His gaze sharply shifts to his daughters, watching intensely as the scene unfolds. “Kiri, please.” She only replies with a curt nod and Lo’ak visibly deflates.

He needed them to stay here— here, where it’s safe. Here where Quaritch couldn’t touch them.

From afar, he embodied the fierce olo’eyktan that he is, but truthfully, he trembles as a father. He blamed himself for that night– blamed himself for everything that had happened. Jake couldn’t risk losing another one. Not only will he be failing his family, he’d fail Neteyam again, most of all.

Lo’ak slumps his shoulders, pushing past Jake. “This isn’t fair,” He mutters under his breath. Jake’s eyebrows knitted tightly and he knew damn well there was no going back from talking back to a parent. “You aren’t being fair– how could you ask us to standby?”

“I’m not asking, Lo’ak. It’s an order.”

“That’s even worse!” He shouts in reply and Jake is taken back.

There it is. The emotions desperate to claw out of their throats. If toughening them to an extent was a good thing, why was it biting him in the ass right now? Jake’s bottom lip quivered slightly. He didn’t need this– not now. He would’ve dealt with it properly, if it wasn’t for the situation at hand. Jake didn’t need his kids reminding him how he fucked up. He didn’t need another heartache when he had to toughen himself out.

“This isn’t the time for attitude, Lo’ak–” Jake exhales a deep breath, his eyes squinting as he clenches his jaw. He tries hard to keep himself in check, the last thing he wants is to lose his temper. Talk to them. Calmly. “You think I have the upperhand? Your sister needs me right now, what don’t you understand?”

“This would not have happened if you could just listen!”

“Well I’m here now, Lo’ak– just what do you have to say?” He stares back at him with an intensity that matches his own, voice slightly raised.

A million thoughts raced his mind. Will he blame him for bringing him here–? Here in awa’altu where they had to unlearn everything they have known– here in awa’atlu, away from his brother; but when silence had only replied to his outburst, he sighed wearily.

“Right now, we do not see eye to eye, boy.” His tone turns gentle, surprisingly. It causes Lo’ak to become rigid– unmoving as he takes in his father’s unfamiliar nature. The atmosphere shifted so somewhat awkward. Lo’ak only knew how to deal with his father’s anger. “And that’s on me. I know you blame me for being a shit father, and I want you to. I messed up and I keep messing up.”

“Then why can’t you be better?” He said so casually, like it was something Jake could accomplish with a flick of a switch, as if it was an easy task she simply hadn't put in enough effort for. But that was never the case.

Truthfully, he didn’t know what to answer. Didn’t want to tell his son that this was already his best. He liked to think that no father is perfect– eased him just a little knowing that there were far worse than him. But maybe he was no better.

When he knew that Neteyam’s eyes would never open again, he thought that hurt had hit the lowest of lows. But here he was, watching his son’s hateful gaze and had never been so wrong.

His ears flattened. “Stay here Lo’ak, please.”

Coward. Jake was a coward.

Lo'ak let out a frustrated scoff, quickly turning his head away and storming off in anger. He left the Marui so hastily that Jake was left alone with a crestfallen expression etched on his face. His expression was enough for Kiri to run after him, Tuk trailing behind. She jogged hastily, her breath catching in her throat as she eventually managed to match Lo'ak's pace.

“Lo’ak, they asked us to stay here.” Kiri tried to grasp on his wrist, only for him to retract harshly. They continued to walk towards the shore in an argument, “Lo’ak!”

“They have __, I’m going.” He continues to march towards his ilu, caressing its head in greeting while it mewls in return. “I’m not losing another one, Kiri. She’s my sister.”

Kiri grabs his hand, turning him around to face her sharply. Tuk’s head peeps to watch from behind her legs, “I’m your sister too! You’re scaring Tuk, just let them handle it.”

“What’s going on?” Ao’nung calls. Tsireya had heard of the commotion and immediately went to find Lo’ak and it was no surprise that he’d want to go after his parents.

“This is the sky people we’re talking about! The same people who–” He had exhaled loudly in frustration, his movements jerking and violent as he ran his hands through his braids repeatedly. His face contorts in stress and disbelief, and he yanks on his hair lightly, an attempt to shift the focus of his energy to something tangible instead of this hopelessness that has crept up on him.

“I have to be there.”

“Keep your skxawng ass here, I swear to Eywa.” But her threats fell on deaf ears as he continued to mount his ilu, spear in hand. He threw them one last glance before he sped away, leaving Kiri to call out his name.

Rotxo’s expression grew worried as he watched Lo’ak’s figure disappear amongst the vast spread of water. Forehead creased in concern as he looked around where everyone had been standing, “Are we supposed to let him?”

“Eywa, of course not.” She had clapped towards the Ilus, beckoning them to ride. “Let’s go, people.”

Life was simple back then.

Jake knew he had to pull on his weight, lengthen his patience, and learn fatherhood from scratch. He was far from perfect, but he was sure that even his best efforts would still be better than what his own father had done for him when it came to parenting. His old man had never been there for him in any sense of the word.

“Alright babygirl, your turn.” Jake beckons you to take Neteyam’s place as he lends you his bow.

“He’s gonna come out behind those big rocks,” Your father instructs. He grabs your arm and moves it just a bit higher, steadying your aim with his firm grip. “Slowly, steady. Watch your aim.” You squint your eyes, focusing your sight as the fish comes to sight, stuck between the current and the rocks. With a deep breath, you release your hold, striking it right through its body.

“Good job, sweetheart. Go get it!” He shouts, giving you a big smooch on the cheek as he pushes you to claim your hunt. You giggle, feeling absolutely proud.

As you and Neteyam proudly display the fish you have both caught, he watches with a big smile. “My mighty fishermen, now let’s go home and show mama.”

Bracelets were enough to make his kids happy back then; beads and trinkets he found along his hunts. They would keep it for years to come and Jake thought he had cracked the code. But the gifts turned to few and then none and the ones they kept had burned along the crossfire. He became stricter– tougher on them.

He knew being a marine best than a father.

When his children looked at him, it wasn’t of love— he wasn’t dense with how their shoulders stiffened around him. Jake thought it was a good thing, to keep them all in a straight line, for them to learn discipline early. But as they grew older, they were getting harder to reach and no amount of presents could make them come back.

“Lo’ak started it!” Your eyebrows were heavily knitted, fangs bared as you showed him the broken bracelet. You tightly held onto the beads, afraid that you’d lose more of it.

Your brother had immediately turned defensive, shoulders tense. “If you hadn’t been in the way, it would’ve been avoided!”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Jake quickly interrupted you both, massaging his temples. “One night. One night without any of you bickering. You’re older, __, why can’t you be the bigger person?”

Your heart sank a little. You weren’t growing younger and so was your dad. Jake never took the time to craft, unlike before. The bracelet was from him and it would’ve made you feel better if he had listened.

“No more of this, you hear me? It’s just some stupid bracelet. Jesus Christ.”

Jake wasn’t perfect. He knows that– knows his children deserve better. He fears that when people ask them of him, they’d tell them how great of an olo’eyktan he is– how he fought against the sky-people, but never how he was as a father.

Your father loves you– loves everyone dearly. He would burn the whole world for his children– but the thing about fathers, they have an odd way of showing it.

As they finally near the large battleship, his hand pressed on the pager. “Babygirl, do you hear me?”

Your head perked up at the static coming from the pager discarded on the table right in front of you. Your body jerked against the binds desperately, “Yes, yes– sir I’m here!”

But he couldn’t hear you, not without you pressing on its button in return.

“If you’re listening, I’m coming, okay? Mama and I are coming to get you.”

You let out a stuttered breath, the beginnings of a sob bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you. It was no use anyway. You felt deflated as you sank down into your chair. Tears welled in your eyes, building itself up like a dam.

Jake anxiously waited on the other line, expecting to hear something back from you, but all he heard was the thump of his own racing heartbeat resonating in his ear as time seemed to stand still. His lips trembled as he softly spoke again, “I love you, kid. You know that, right?”

But you didn’t. You didn’t since everyone arrived at Awal’tu and for months, this was the first time you’ve heard of it again. It made your chest tighten in response, stomach knotting.

Oh Eywa, you missed your father. Missed him dearly.

This one time he had told you he had loved you. This one time where you needed to hear it the most and you couldn’t say it back. It’s true that your father had stopped being affectionate– but you’ve grown and stopped being as loving as you were as a kid too. You will always be your parent’s child– your daddy’s girl.

“I love you too.”

Life was so much simpler back then, and if Jake had just spoken to you, he may have figured out that his words had more value than any presents he could find. He fears that he might be too late.

“We have to split up.”

“Split up?” Kiri shouts incredulously, holding onto Tuk tightly.

“There are at least three ships here, she has to be in at least one of them.”

“We’ll take the one from the south,” Ao’nung says, Tsireya quickly trailing behind. Kiri groans, knowing she couldn’t do anything but follow. Roxto followed her as they all nodded to each other, speaking in unsaid terms. Be safe. Please.

Lo’ak trots ahead, letting out another eager yip as they make their way towards the distant ship far up north. You had to be on one of them. You had to.

As he stealthily moves through the area, searching every nook and cranny, Lo’ak is determined to find you, leaving no stone unturned nor any corners checked. The lack of people around was suspicious and it made the atmosphere more eerie. As he scanned every cell, his eyes caught a battered Na’vi, head hung low– you. Quickly, he broke down the door with heavy locks.

“Lo’ak!”

“__!” He immediately rushes to you, taking off the restraints with brute force. Without a second thought, you engulfed him in a hug, nearly pushing him off his feet while he frantically searched for any serious injury, eyes swiftly scanning the cuts on your skin. “We have to go now.”

Both of you hurriedly try to exit the ship, steps heavily thumping across the metal floors. It was silent. Too silent. Like there hadn’t been a war at all. The ship was quiet, other than the crashing waves and footsteps. Not to mention the lack of recoms surrounding the area, you grew more and more nervous. “Where’s dad? He’s–”

“On another ship, we have to go.” He pulled you closer the edge where his Ilu had been waiting,

“Lo’ak, we’re not leaving him, are we?”

“Dad can handle it, I’m only here to take you home. Now please, come with me–”

“I know you don’t want to leave him too.” his lips drew into a thin line in response, immediately growing silent. His heart was thumping wildly, knowing that the decision was his to make. “Lo’ak, we can’t leave him.”

“Fuck it. Let’s go.”

“Run– run, go!” Lo’ak's call was still echoing in your head as you sprinted, bullets whizzing past in all directions. Fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins as you darted and weaved throughout the area, momentarily hiding behind a steel wall.

Both of you had been searching for Jake and everyone but despite your best efforts, the only thing you were ever able to find was more trouble. What was supposed to be a relatively straightforward endeavor had quickly become an arduous task. You feared for your life and your brother’s.

“We have to jump now, __.” He pulls you out from your thoughts, panting heavily.

“We haven’t found dad yet or anyone– they could be in danger!”

“Listen, I’m not about to lose you in another dumb decision of mine. We’re going, do you understand?” He tugs on your wrists tightly. The look on his face told you that his decision wasn’t open for any negotiation anymore– this was about you and your safety. You offer a solemn nod, feeling a knot forming in your chest as your frown deepens.

As the shots come to an end, the avatars begin to disperse, frantically searching for both of you. Lo'ak forcefully pulls you to your feet and dashes towards the edge ready to take a leap, but the ship lets out a sharp screech as it leans further and further downwards into the vast ocean, both of you caught completely off guard. Water quickly rushes up to bathe the deck in a sea of white froth and foam, its relentless waves rocks the boat back and forth so harshly that you fall to your knees.

Lo’ak frantically looks around for something to hold onto, but it all happens too quickly; just as his hands latch onto a railing, it snaps and he begins to tumble along with the current and down an open trapdoor. He quickly holds on to its rusty edge, “__!”

You immediately slide towards him, grabbing his wrist. “I got you, just hang on.” While your other hand clutched your bloodied side, you groaned as you felt the skin surrounding it stretch, ripping more and more as you tried to hold on. “Lo’ak, please.”

“I can’t– I can’t!” Both your grips are loosening and you choked out a sob, feeling absolutely helpless. You could feel it– his fingers slowly slipping from your wrist. Your heart hammered on your chest as you extended your other hand.

“Brother please, grab my other hand,”

Another wave crashes towards both of you, and in that moment your grip on his wrist slips. You can feel the panic rise within you as you shout out his name desperately. His body falls, water completely engulfing him.

Without any hesitation, you jump down after him.

You hastily scramble out of the water, eyes wide and scanning the wreckage that surrounds you for any sign of Lo'ak. All around you there is nothing but the ship itself, pushing you down with it. It loudly creaks once again, the sound vibrating off the walls.

You try to regain your composure– breathing slowly and steadying the beat of your heart, only for it to race yet again as another body emerges from the water, coughing violently.

“Lo’ak–!”

“I can’t find an exit.” He says, breathing heavily.

“I’ll go check again, you stay here.” The water was already rising and your frantic state wasn’t helping.

you said as the water level began to climb higher and higher. Your frantic state wasn’t helping either of your cause, but there was no time to think of that now. In order for the two of you to make it out alive, one of you had to remain calm and focused. You had to be just that– the bigger person. The big sister Lo’ak needs right now.

“No! You’re bleeding, I’ll go look.” He protests and you both exchange banters.

“I am your older sister, Lo’ak, listen to me– just let me do this.”

“I don’t care. You’re hurt already.”

“Lo’ak, don’t be so stubborn right now.”

“I’m a better swimmer than you!”

“Why are you being so stubborn, just stay here–!”

“Just let me do this for you, Neteyam!”

And that stuns you both.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He croaks, the words barely escaping his trembling lips. His guilt is palpable in the air as he hangs his head low in shame, trying to swallow the lump in his throat that is threatening to choke him. Lo’ak had to let it out now. Now that you’re here– now that you and him might never come out alive. “Maybe if I didn’t insist on coming there, we would still be back at home– with him. Maybe if I didn’t force everyone to come along, he would not have the need to save us.”

“Lo’ak, please..”

“But I did– I did, and now he’s gone. I lost him and I can’t lose you too,” You stayed there, like the water surrounding you was anchoring you on that very spot. You could only stare at him as he poured his every guilt. Your heart ached for Lo’ak– Lo’ak, your baby brother. Lo’ak who tried so desperately to be seen. “It’s my fault, __. I was just so jealous– so jealous that I forced you to join in because maybe then, you’d want to spend time with me too. I wanted what you had with Neteyam, what Kiri was to Tuk.”

“But I miss him, I miss my brother so bad.” Lo’ak continues to weep, tugging on his hair– hurting himself. “I hate that my body didn’t move towards you– towards him that night. Maybe then, I would’ve said goodbye. Maybe then, I would’ve told him I was sorry.”

You slowly swam to him, awkwardly taking his hands. Siblings were such a funny concept. They could say the harshest, most meanest thing– hurt you to an extent because they know you more than anyone else. But they would do anything– absolutely anything, just to keep you safe. Hell, would give a kidney if it means that you’d live. You miss Neteyam, terribly so, but does losing him make you less of a sister?

“I’m sorry, __. I’m sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but every time you looked at me, all I could see was him. I miss Neteyam. I miss home. I want to go home.”

“We’re going home, okay?” You pull him close in your arms, burying your head on the curve of his neck as you try to contain a sob. “I see you, brother.”

“I’ve been nothing but difficult.” You feel his breath hitch as he tries to steady his breathing, heartbeat slowing down. “I don’t like how everyone has become since he died.”

“Me too, Lo’ak. Me too.” You whisper, rubbing circles on his back. “I’m so sorry. I’m here now.”

As the two of you hold each other tightly, the water continues to rise around you with no sign of relenting. You both know that it will only be a matter of time until this ship finally gives in to its fate and sinks beneath the surface yet neither of you want to let go. There was something comforting with having Lo’ak near now that he had spoken of his troubles– something light.

“We’re going home.”

This was it, you thought, this is the end.

☆ mauve here! i know this has been long overdue ;( BUT FINALLY, IT'S HERE. don't really know if i should be adding another chapter or just stop with an open ending hahah hopefully this was painful enough because my brain is bleeding and i can't wait to start another series. -

please tell me how i did! i really enjoy interacting w my moots nd readers ;( it's like a reward (ALSO i'm sorry if i forgot to tag someone! some of the names don't really pop up too ;(

smooch!

tags: @eywas-heir @aonungsmate @cappsikle @dearstell @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @aleracrovn @fangzyz @bobojojoba69 @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @dumb-fawkin-bitch @navs-bhat @jo1818 @ladylovegood-69 @kahlowy @neteyamforlife @mochiivqi @heart-an0n @strnger @abbersreads @historygeekqueen @anxietydrogz @kau7itz @winxschester @1mawh0re @thefirst-ofus @tsoomie @wheeeelys @lunamhm565i @ayanelisa @sully-stick-together @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @jackiehollanderr @dreamsholdpowers @aimsro @violilaqrs

#mauve writes ☆#family angst #family feels #sully family x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #tuk x sister!reader #angst #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #jake sully #reader!sully

943 notes · View notes

pedroshotwifey · 2 months

Text

One Condition

This is actually a requested fic from the lovely @survivingandenduring! You can view the request here if you'd like!

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem!reader x Ezra (Prospect)

Word count: 4.9k

Tags/warnings: unprotected piv sex, sex pollen trope, dubcon, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, oral sex, cum eating, so much cum like its kinda scary, Ezra being a nasty little freak, anal fingering, pain kink, big fat juicy plot twist, this is absolutely nasty shit, stuff I'm probably forgetting, I'm actually not sorry at all for this

Summary: You and your partner, Marcus Pike, get stranded on an inhabited planet and run into problem after problem. You find yourselves in a compromising position that requires help from a strange man, who comes to you with one condition.

A/N: Uhhh. don't look at me 🫣

*****

“Um, Marcus?”

You look at your partner, who has the same worried expression on his face as you.

“Yup.”

It’s not a question. You’re both thinking the same thing; you’re in the wrong place.

It looks similar to the planet you were supposed to be landing on, but most of the scenery here is a lush green instead of the blue hues you’d been expecting. It’d looked the exact same from above the atmosphere, but there is a clear difference now that you’re on the surface.

Marcus mutters a curse under his breath but begins the landing sequence anyway. That’s probably for the best; that way the two of you can figure out where you really were, and then where you actually need to be going.

Dust comes up around your shuttle as you touch ground, the greenery around you rustling a bit as the jets power down. You get up from your seat when you feel the craft settle enough for the floor to be stable.

Marcus follows, shutting everything down and then unbuckling himself from the pilot’s chair. You’re already on the other side of the small contraption, looking through the maps you have stored in the tiny compartment of the far wall. He comes up next to you and pulls up the planet encyclopedias, trying to find a description that matches the world you’ve landed in.

You spend the next few minutes flipping through various books and maps until Marcus comes across a planet that matches. He hands the book over and points at the section.

“Here,” he points. “It looks like we're on a sister planet to the one we’re supposed to be on.”

You hum in agreement, reading the small passage provided next to the picture.

“Alright, well, let’s get her powered back up.”

Your partner sighs, running a hand over his face. You furrow your brows. His face has paled a bit and he seems a bit reluctant to follow your request.

“Is there a problem?”

“Yeah, actually. We’re out of fuel,” he admits, trying and failing miserably to maintain eye contact.

You gape at him.

“Marcus! You were supposed to fill her up before we fucking left! It says here that there’s no civilization!”

He nods along as you scold him, knowing it’s well deserved.

“Yeah, I know. I forgot until we were halfway here, but I knew it would take just enough to get us on planet, and we could get more from there. It’s not like I knew that we would be landing on the wrong planet” He spews it out, not defensive exactly, but regretful.

You groan and walk back to the front of the ship, checking the fuel gauge.

“We’re running on fumes right now, I don’t know if it’s going to be enough to get us to the neighboring planet.”

You look at him, trying to keep your anger from showing up because you know that it was genuinely an accident, and Marcus isn’t usually one to mess up like this. But of course when he does, you get stranded on an unknown planet.

Rubbing your eyes, you walk in a circle around the floor, trying to think of a plan. You can feel Marcus’s guilty eyes following you until you come to a stop.

“Okay,” you start. “The book said that this planet is typically only used for mining aurelac, right?”

Marcus nods slowly, obviously confused as to where you’re going with this.

“Well then there should be at least a few miners on planet in that case, right?”

He nods again, furrowing his brows in thought.

“So we should go out and try to find someone to borrow some fuel from?” he asks.

“Yes. Either that or see if there’s someone who can hitch us a ride.”

He sighs and puts his hands on his hips, his gaze downcast to the floor as he thinks through the options.

“Yeah, seems like our best bet,” he agrees after a minute.

Within a few minutes, you both pack small bags and suit up to withstand the harsh environment of the planet. According to the book, the air is extremely thin and can sometimes hold toxic chemicals depending on other factors. You follow Marcus out of the craft and watch as he makes sure everything’s sealed correctly, before you both start walking into the woods.

“Do you know where you’re going?” you ask after you’ve been walking for a while.”

Marcus looks at you, his expression still holding hints of guilt.

“Not exactly. I think most of the mines are located in the forest though, so we’ll just have to keep walking and hope we come across—”

“Shit, Marcus!”

You yell for him as he stumbles across a root and tumbles down into a pit. It’s not super deep, but just enough so that he could have seriously hurt himself with that fall. You carefully slide down the side of it to join him.

“Are you okay?”

He looks up at you from where he’s planted on his back and groans a bit. He opens his mouth to reply and that’s when you see that his mask is on the ground next to him, crushed into several pieces.

“Shit,” he croaks, already feeling the effects of the thin air.

You crouch down beside him, feeling him up for any injuries.

“Does anything hurt?”

“Just my head. It’s fucking pounding.”

You sigh. “Probably from lack of airflow.”

“C’mon,” you grunt, threading your arms under his. “Let’s get you back and hope that you don’t die.”

He glares at you but allows you to help him into a sitting position.

“Well, isn’t this unfortunate? Two little birds trapped in a cage.”

You both jolt at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You peer up to the top of the pit and find a man standing near the ledge, a blaster aimed directly at your head. He wears a shabby, brown suit with a bulbous helmet that would be almost funny looking if not for the imminent threat he poses. You slowly raise your hands and start to stand back up, a rush of fear creeping up your spine.

“We’re not armed,” you start. “My friend’s mask just broke; we need help.” You try not to sound too panicked as you explain your situation to the stranger, praying to whoever may be listening that he’s not planning to shoot both of you.

“Don’t worry gem, I don’t want to kill you. I simply would like to assure myself that neither of you had plans of my own execution.”

You furrow your brows at his choice of wording, his strange drawl only adding to your confusion.

“I, uh. No.” What else can you really say to that?

You glance down at Marcus and see the same befuddled expression on his face.

“I will warn you that your…friend”—he cocks a brow at you as he says it—”has chosen a rather unfortunate time to lose his filtration system. Assuming, of course, you haven’t already discovered the effects of the tainted oxygen.”

You shake your head as your mouth goes dry.

“Is—is he going to be okay?”

The stranger pauses for a moment as if in thought. He cocks his head and then looks back at you.

“He should be as long as he receives the assistance he should require.”

“What do you mean by that?” This comes from Marcus.

The stranger frowns and lowers his gun, which he seems to have just remembered he was still holding up.

“Are you not familiar with this planet’s cycles?”

You both shake your heads.

The man sighs and kneels on the ledge extending a hand. You stare at it, neither of you making a move toward him.

“Do you want to stay in this pit? I think it would be rather unsanitary to do so under your current circumstance.”

You flash another glance at Marcus, who nods slightly toward you, encouraging you to take the other man’s hand. You step forward and place your palm in his, allowing him to pull you up, and then you kneel to help him hoist Marcus up as well.

“I’m Ezra,” the man says once the three of you are standing. You introduce the two of you as well, figuring at this point that the stranger has to be at least mostly harmless.

“Alright, well tell me, little bird; are you and Marcus of the romantic type?”

You just stare at him, unsure of how to answer that, nor of why he would feel the need to ask in the first place. You can feel Marcus’s eyes on you as your cheeks begin to burn.

“I–uh…”

You let your eyes meet your partner’s, a silent conversation transpiring. You’ve engaged in some less than appropriate activities throughout your travels, but it’s always been strictly for stress release or simply a product of boredom. The last few months, it’s been more of an unspoken thing.

The two of you care for each other and behave as most couples would, but you’ve never actually given each other the labels. You definitely never thought that the deciding conversation would be in the presence of a strange man who seems to be about to deliver some bad news. You’re about to answer when Marcus gives you a short nod, lifting the burden off of your shoulders.

“Yeah, we are.”

The man nods, though he’s clearly amused. You’re sure he can see what just happened and must have used context clues to figure the rest out out.

“That’s fortunate for you. What’s circulating in the air currently is what could be described as an aphrodisiac. I’m sure you’re familiar with such?”

You and Marcus exchange yet another glance.

“Yes, we’ve heard of them,” you say.

“Do you have a craft nearby?” Ezra asks, peering behind you as if he could spot one he missed before.

You hesitate before answering. Even if he’s seemed to be helpful so far, can you really be sure it isn’t a trap?

“We have a shuttle,” you decide on just to be on the safe side. “We’re out of fuel though. That’s why we're out here in the first place,” you add just in case the man has some extra laying around for some miraculous reason.

Just then, you near a heavy thud and a groan. You spin on your heel to find Marcus keeled over, his hands over his groin and his exposed skin covered in a layer of sweat more intense than what’s normal for this climate. You’re on your knees beside him within a second, your hands running over him until he flinches away as if you’d burned him.

“Marcus! What’s happening?” You aim your question at Ezra, who’s still standing above the two of you with an almost pitying expression.

“The effects are getting to him, little dove. I’m afraid you’re going to need to help him in a timely manner.”

You think for a moment, knowing getting your partner all the way back to your shuttle is going to be a difficult task in the state that he’s in.

“I have a camp not too far from our current location, I’m willing to offer up the space on one condition. And before you protest, we both know it’s not safe to engage in life saving activities out here in the open.”

You stiffen at this. Of course there’s a catch; it’s not common to receive help from a random stranger without them expecting anything in return. You glance down to make sure his gun is still in its holster before narrowing your eyes at his face, not liking the way his smile has turned a bit wolfish.

“What do you want? We don’t have any coin.”

“Oh, no, gem. I don’t want your profits. I simply desire to join you and your handsome partner. It’s been a long time since I had something other than my own fist to keep me company.”

“What?” you bark, slightly humiliated that he would suggest something like that, regardless of how handsome he may be. “No, I’m sleeping with a stranger in exchange for shelter!”

“Now don’t get feisty, dove. I didn’t say it had to be you,” he says, watching Marcus with a newfound hunger. “Though it would probably be fortunate for your friend here that it was, assuming he is of the hetero kind.”

“Don’t,” Marcus croaks, looking up at you the best he’s able to.

You’re torn, knowing that Marcus needs help quick, but not wanting to give either of you up to this man. When it comes down to it though, you’re always going to choose what’s best for your partner. You look up at the man with disdain, knowing that you’re not going to have much of a choice here.

“Fine. But not him.”

Ezra’s smile broadens.

“Very well, gem. Right this way.”

He turns around and waits for you to get a near-delirious Marcus about halfway up so he’s propped by one of your shoulders. Noticing your struggle, Ezra comes to his other side and mirrors your position, one hand supporting around his waist.

As you walk, Marcus’s temperature keeps rising and his groans get worse. Fortunately, the man wasn’t lying when he said he had a camp nearby; you only have to walk for about a minute before coming across it.

He opens up the flap as you get closer, taking the zipper all the way down and helping you ease Marcus in. As you lay him down, you can see the bulge in his flight suit; almost twice what is normal. You hear Ezra zip the opening back up and then step in behind you.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t–”

Marcus cuts himself off as he shakily pulls down the zipper on his suit, revealing his undershirt and boxers. His hand goes down the latter not a second later, a pornographic moan coming from him as his hand makes contact with his engorged cock. He starts stroking himself under the fabric, panting heavily, and it makes your mouth go dry despite the circumstances.

“Shit, I-it’s not enough,” he grits out, pumping furiously. There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Better help him quick, little bird,” Ezra quips from behind you, already removing his attire as well. You comply, though for which man you’re not sure.

You strip quickly, the three of you tearing your own clothes off at the same time, each of you stark naked at the end. You feel so exposed between the two of them, especially with Ezra, who doesn’t help at all by giving a lewd whistle at the sight of your bare body.

You give him a look so nasty that you’re surprised he doesn’t drop dead. He raises his hands in defense.

“Woah, little bird, I meant it only as a praise.”

You ignore him and turn to Marcus, who’s just now shoving his boxers off. You gasp when his dick springs up, heavy, red, throbbing, and leaking an obscene amount of precum. It’s swollen to a point that looks almost painful.

You swallow your nerves and try your best to ignore Ezra as you instruct Marcus to lay down on the cot. He tugs you with him, feral to get to you at this point. You fall over him and he immediately starts sucking and licking all the skin he can get to, his hips thrusting up into nothing.

You see Ezra move out of the corner of your eye, taking a seat in the single chair inside the small tent. You lift your head as much as you can to make sure he’s not going to try anything.

“Carry on, gem. I’m a patient man; I can wait my turn.”

If you’re being honest, he looks a little too smug.

Suddenly Marcus is flipping you over, shoving you down to the bed on your back, whispering something you can’t quite catch. He doesn’t wait another second before you feel his cock at your underprepared cunt, and your eyes barely have a chance to go wide before he’s forcing himself into you, groaning wildly as he tugs you down onto him.

It’s only then that you realize he had been whispering “sorry”.

You scream and your hands come up to reflexively try to get him off. There are tears as he keeps shoving himself in, stretching you to your limit. Through your blurry vision, you can see tears in his as well, more of shame than of pleasure by his sympathetic expression.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“N-no,” you squeak even as your hands claw at his back from the discomfort. “It’s okay. Don’t stop. Even if I beg you to.”

You close your eyes and try not to focus on the uncomfortable feeling between your legs as Marcus begins to unrelentingly slam his hip into yours. You hear a sound coming from beside you, and turn to see Ezra pumping himself through your blurry vision. It’s a sight that really shouldn't turn you on as much as it does.

You moan despite yourself as the pain coming from your sore cunt turns into pleasure. You’re getting wetter and wetter as the seconds tick by, the glide of your partner’s cock becoming easier and more toe-curling. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he starts to punch that spot deep inside you. You’re getting hot fast, sweat building up in every crease and crevice as your pussy seems to get more hungry for what Marcus is feeding it.

Each thrust sends you up the bed, but Marcus holds onto you so that you don’t go too far. He’s grunting like a feral animal, his body maneuvering every which way until he finds the position that provides him with the most momentum.

“Ohh that feels so fucking good, baby,” he hisses through his teeth. “Gods, you always take me so f-fucking well.”

You’ve never heard him talk like this before—with this level of vulgarity. You whimper, making eye contact with Ezra as Marcus nails something even more delicious within you. His gaze is heavy and on your face rather than on your body, which surprises you as much as it flatters you.

“Does she suck cock just as well?” Ezra’s deepened voice comes from the chair, his eyes still on you as he asks the question.

Marcus looks down at you, albeit with heavy lids, for your consent. You nod, already fucked out beyond thinking clearly.

“Better,” comes Marcus’s reply, his stare just as heavy as Ezra’s. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

You moan at the thought of being taken from both ends, one of the domineering men on each side. This is going much better than anticipated, both your mind and body opening to the stranger despite your earlier protest.

Ezra doesn’t have to be asked twice, already getting up to hover his thick cock over your face, slapping it gently against your lips. The cot is the perfect height for him to stick it into your mouth, though he waits.

“You want this, gem?”

You almost find it funny that he’s asking, considering he didn’t give you much of a choice earlier. You nod anyway, because you honestly do, your gaze is trained on it as your mouth waters. He threads one hand through your hair, pulling you into the right position, and then uses his tip to part your lips.

He moans as he sinks in, his eyes fluttering shut as you immediately wrap your tongue around him. You find yourself groaning at his salty taste, savoring the weight of him as you start to pull him in. Your cunt throbs as he and Marcus both moan out at the same time, Marcus doubling over while Ezra bottoms out.

Marcus brings one hand to your clit and begins rubbing up and down at a furious pace that would have made you scream if not for the other man’s cock in the way. Tears leak from your eyes as Ezra begins to pump in and out of you, his hips thrusting as he uses the hand in your hair to hold you where he wants.

“Oh you feel devine, little gem,” he moans, his eyes still closed and his lips parted as he picks up the pace. You can feel him hitting deep inside your throat, making you resist the urge to choke. It’s overwhelming but in the best way.

“Oh, fuck!” Marcus nearly shouts the curse as his hips stutter. “Come with me baby, come on,” he urges, moving his hand quicker.

Your back arches up at the feeling, though you’re still pinned by both men. Suddenly, everything flashes white, your hearing going dull as your entire body convulses with the power of your orgasm. You have just enough brain capacity to think that this has got to be the highest level of pleasure attainable.

It goes on forever, your pussy pulsing as you sob and moan around Ezra’s cock. You faintly hear Marcus’s own moans and feel his dick twitch and throb within you, coating your walls in his creamy white spend.

You don’t even realize you had closed your eyes until you open them again upon feeling your own drool dribbling down your cheeks to mix with your tears. Ezra coos down at you, wiping away the saliva though he doesn’t dare slow his pace.

“M-messy little bird,” he laughs.

You glance back down at Marcus the best you can just to realize that he’s still hard as a fucking rock. He’s still riding out his own high, rocking slowly to prolong it as much as possible. His eyes flick back up to yours after a moment, and then to Ezra’s who watches him intently as he continues to defile your throat.

The gurgling sounds coming from you should be downright disgusting, but they only add to the eroticness of what the three of you are doing right now. The tent seems to have filled with the thick scent and humidity of sex, making your head even more foggy than provided by your orgasm.

Ezra’s not far after the two of you, grunting heavily and pulling on your hair to a painful level. He pulls out and strokes himself over your face, letting his cum splatter across your features right after you close your eyes. His thumb comes to your lips, making you open your mouth as he moans aloud.

Some of his seed falls on your tongue, and you swallow it down as Ezra finishes the last few spurts. You open your eyes when you’re sure he’s done, panting and gasping despite your sore throat.

It’s at the same time that the two men pull away from you, and you’re extremely confused until you see that they’re maintaining eye contact, seeming to have had a silent conversation while you’d been distracted.

Suddenly, you’re being lifted by the both of them, your body being rearranged to their preference. You’re so fucking tired, but you do your best to comply with their actions. You’re being lifted onto Ezra’s lap when you finally understand their plan.

His cock is only half-hard after his orgasm, but he begins rutting himself against you regardless as Marcus disappears from your line of sight. You half-collapse on Ezra, moaning as your clit gets stimulated thanks to his thrusts.

“Second drawer, pretty boy,” he pants. You hear shuffling and then Marcus returning behind you before you get the chance to ask what he was doing. There’s a pop from behind you, and then a cold substance at your ass.

You yelp at the unexpected feeling, only to be shushed by Ezra.

“Hush now, gem. I’ve heard you have experience in this area.”

He smirks at you as your cheeks heat.

You moan suddenly as Marcus slips a finger past your tight ring of muscle, pumping a good few times before adding a second. He leans close and whispers praise into your ear, telling you how good you’re being for them, how well you’re taking it all.

He works you up to three fingers before he pulls his hand from you and helps lift you up, propping you up enough for Ezra to notch his tip at your thoroughly soaked cunt. You help the slow descent down his shaft, your lips parting and eyes pinching shut at the sensation.

Ezra chokes on a groan, squeezing both of your ass cheeks as you bottom out.

“Fuck, little birdy, your heavenly cunt should be reserved for those of immortal status.”

You don’t even have the energy to cringe at his wording, instead savoring the way he fills you so nicely, not as long as Marcus, but a good bit thicker. The coarse hairs above his cock rub against your oversensitive clit nicely, making you want to rut against him. Just then, you feel Marcus settle in behind you again, dragging you partially onto his lap so you’re over his cock.

“Ready, sweetheart?” He asks, clearly having regained some of his gentlemanly status after quelling his lust a bit. You whimper and nod at him, and he starts to push inside of you.

“Oh, Gods,” you moan, wrapping your arms around Ezra’s back and digging your nails in for stability. He hisses and increases his grip on your ass, keeping you spread for Marcus as his hips come flush against you.

You’re already so full it’s dizzying, so when the two men start to move, you think you may come on the spot. Ezra goes first, pulling out a bit and then sinking back in, which is when Marcus makes his move, repeating the other man’s actions. Your knees are planted on the cot, giving you the opportunity to move with them.

The three of you are panting, moaning messes, hot breaths fanning across each other’s skin as you nuzzle together. The pace starts out slow, but quickly picks up, increasing your combined noises. Both of the men start to grab at you, moving their hands and groping anything and everything they’re able to.

You can feel their cocks rubbing against your middle wall, creating an intoxicating feeling that you know you’ll miss when this is over. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, being so full you can feel them in your stomach.

Small whimpers begin to spill from your mouth, but are quickly caught by Ezra, who captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, his spend from earlier mixed between your tongues. It’s difficult to keep it up with how much you’re being jostled, so he gives up after a moment and instead opts to lick his cum off of your sweaty cheek. You’re pleasantly surprised when you feel Marcus’s hand come up to grasp at your chin, tilting your face so that he’s able to do the same on the opposite side.

The two of you clean your face with their tongues as they thrust into you at a punishing pace, somehow hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. You let out a raspy groan, your hands scrambling over both of their bodies for purchase.

A heat is beginning to build once again in your abdomen, pleasure licking up your spine. It only takes a few more alternating thrusts before you’re coming around their cocks with a scream. You tighten around both of their throbbing cocks, getting them closer to their own ends.

Marcus comes first once again, still slightly affected by the drug from earlier. He bites onto your shoulder as he busts inside of you, slamming his hips up and locking in place, his hands coming up to squeeze your tits as his balls empty into your ass.

Ezra follows right after, seemingly liking Marcus’s idea of a gag, and biting into your other shoulder. You scream again at the pressure of both men’s teeth, your arms raising so you can grasp both of their hair, holding them close.

Your orgasm lingers for as long as theirs do, the three of you coming completely down at the same time. You stay in a sweaty heap for a long time, just trying to catch your breath and make sense of what’s real and what’s not.

You all fall apart after a few minutes, exhaustion officially taking over you. You can feel both of the men’s cum leaking from your holes as they pull out and help you lay comfortable on the cot. They get situated next to you, and you’re all out like lights within the next minute.

The next morning, Ezra’s waiting for the two of you with a portable can of fuel and an extra mask. Your departure is swift and unawkward, Ezra walking with the two of you back to your ship like you’ve known each other for years. It takes a bit longer than it should due to your body being practically fucking wrecked from last night, but both of the men help you get along.

When you reach your craft, you all say your goodbyes, knowing this will more than likely be the last time you’ll come across this strange man. To be frank, you’re still a bit confused about what exactly transpired last night, but you choose to ignore it. Your head is pounding with what feels like the worst hangover you’ve ever had, and you’re just eager to get off of this nightmare planet.

Ezra watches you fuel up your craft and then take off, smiling and honestly quite satisfied with himself. Neither of you even figured it out that he was the one who planted the trap and laced the dirt pit with the drug, nor that he may have let a bit more slip inside his tent.

***** I mean really, do we really expect anything less from Ezra?

Please consider interacting if you enjoyed this fic!!

170 notes · View notes

tb3ih · 1 year

Text

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS (pt. 1), ayato kamisato/reader

SYNOPSIS... whispers of an unhappy marriage seem to have fallen on deaf ears, OR it is deep within the Kamisato Estate where you bury your broken heart, far away from the encompassing reach of a loveless union with AYATO.

⋆ warnings, kamisato ayato x fem-presenting!reader, alcohol consumption, a CHILD, marriage conflict, & the crippling weight of complexities that follow an unhappy marriage :\

⋆ notes, this is for my mama, who never got the courage nor the chance to make the choice i wish for anyone in this situation to make. (SORRY FOR LEAVING THIS AS A CLIFFHANGER PLS FORGIVE ME I BEG) p.s. i'll make a part two bc i can't end it like this, y/n deserves a happy ending.

⋆ tags! @rqkuya @sohyuki @usertsubaki @rinoomi @scaramew @rainsoughtflowers @rysird @manji-ro @xiaophobic @redninjakitty14rp @meowlumi @mimissubway

kamisato ayato does not come home.

you let this cascade down your throat and tell yourself it's just the sake when you feel it burn, vision blurring a bit as your eyes trace the gold edges of the glass you rotate between your fingertips.

it's nearly two am, but the city of inazuma has yet to rest its technicolor eyes, lost hopes and vivid dreams painting themselves in the brightest of hues between buildings and bustling streets.

it's laughable almost, the way you spend the latest hours of the night after tucking in your daughter sipping overpriced rice wine, and drowning in second-hand smoke, waiting for a man of all things.

your candle's nearly burned out of wick, and you sigh at the idea of having to purchase more, but you supposed you'd just send a butler to the candle shop. after all, how could you make an effective housewife if you didn't remain in the house?

but it is no surprise to you, the renowned head of hayashi clan and sole heir to one of the greatest legacies in the nation, that you are waiting out on your balcony overlooking the estate for your husband to miraculously walk through the front gates for once in the last few months.

and when he does, you're choking on your wine, eyes blinking furiously as you watch his tall but somewhat obscured figure waltzing through the front gates like its any other night he's supposed to be coming home; as if he hadn't been neglecting his own home for the past months.

"milday? the lord of the house has returned," a soft voice informs and you don't need to turn to see that it's your closest chambermaid, akane, the most loyal (and well informed) lady-in-waiting you'd ever had the honor of being acquainted with. "it would seem he's in a rather... sober state..."

you snort in amusement, lips pressing once more to the rim of the glass in your hand for a final sip, and you're thankful for the dull numbing that follows, a hot, searing emotion beginning to bubble in your chest. it would seem rice wine and sake have begun to lose its favored taste and you made a mental note to make sure akane arranged for it all to be removed from the house entirely. you never really liked it that much anyway.

you're making your way through the long hallway leading to the front courtyard, where akane tells you he is lounging. when you walk out, ayato is seated at the chabudai, his back facing you as he gazes out into the night sky. on the table sits a warm teapot and akane comes to place a second cup down before you can take a seat, bowing politely before stepping away to remain at the outer edges of the raised patio.

ayato has not turned once to address your presence, nor do you beckon him to with a greeting. you settle gracefully on the zaisu, tucking your feet beneath you before taking the pot to pour yourself a drink. it is quiet but for the summer insects and the sloshing of green tea as you fill your cup.

"it's a little late for tea, isn't it, sweetheart?" his voice is smooth and almost taunting in the tension-filled atmosphere. turning to face you, the azure of his eyes probably would have had you drowning to your death if you hadn't been so accustomed to every one of his antics over the years.

"oh please," you chuckle, examining the cup in your hands, "you flatter me, darling. but yes, i concur it's too far into the evening to be enjoying a casual drink. on the contrary, one might note that there is no time a house lord should and shouldn't be allowed to enjoy his evening tea."

not that there ever was a lord of the house to enjoy tea, you thought behind a sip of hot tea.

"then to what do i owe the pleasure to?" he's watching you carefully, from the way you sip your tea haphazardly to your direct eye contact.

you hum, as if to mull it over. "well, perhaps i was hoping you'd had come to your senses, but i suppose you can't teach an old dog new tricks."

you hear him scoff, an incredulous look marring the complexion of his face. irritation laces his low voice, "dear archons, y/n, i don't have time for this."

and it's in that moment you find the anger bubbling up your throat in a cruel laugh, whirling sharply to bring your hands against the lacquered wood of the table. "well then, commissioner, i daresay i must ask what in the hell do you have time for? because it obviously isn't your home," you spit, venom and heat keeping your throat in a chokehold.

akane shifts uncomfortably from where she stands across the room from you and you allow some space between you and your husband to reassure her.

ayato's laugh is unamused and withering, "you know, my sweet bride, you truly are insufferable." his eyes have narrowed. "is it attention? are you perhaps, unsatisfied with your life of luxury? not enough treasures to satiate your heart?"

this infuriates you. "treasures?! i attempt to discuss the real issues here and you dare frame me—"

"what else could it be?!" ayato brings the cup down with a curt slam that causes you to flinch. "i work day and night tirelessly to settle the most complicated of national affairs and the moment i return home you bring up the most trivial of matters? have you any shame?"

"we are married," you seethe.

"only by law," he bites back, which once more makes you flinch. this causes you to pause, the man before you breathing heavily out of anger. "only. by. law."

and something on your face contorts in the way your heart seems to twist at his statement. ayato does not spare the moment to continue. "did you truly think there was more to this union than political benefit? that there was love or even consideration of feelings? archons, y/n, you are so naive. there is no love!"

in that moment you feel your anguish clawing at your throat, harassing your voicebox into letting it be heard—and you almost do, if it hadn't been for the tiny voice that calls out from where akane stands. "okasaan...?"

a tiny figure hides behind your lady-in-waiting, her blue hair and eyes reflecting that of the man across from you. your eyes widen at the sight, panic in your expression when you meet akane's apologetic one.

sora.

you close your eyes for a second, collecting the salvable pieces of yourself from this conversation. you stand, "well, kamisato-sama, i suppose this is where i bid you a fair evening." you walk over to akane, opening your arms to receive a tired little sora, sleep still adorning her soft expression. "i can assure you personally that you will never again have to deal with such trivial matters, after all, i'm sure even a moment of your time would cost a fortune."

"kasaan? otosan said there was no love?" sora's voice is quiet against your hair as she rests her head in the crook of your neck. you pause in your step, turning to look at the man in question.

you cannot read the emotion in his deep, azure irises nor do you attempt. that would suggest you considered his feelings, which you simply cannot! the edges of your lips pull to form a sad smile, the corners of your eyes burning with the last bit of care you might ever shed for him. "you're too young to worry about that, my sweet little flower," you soothe, not breaking eye contact with him. "if he was your father, he'd have the heart to know that a father would never say such a thing."

sora mumbles an 'okay' against your neck and you smooth a hand down your hair, coaxing her to sleep. you turn, watching his expression as you walk away. "i've always loved you enough for the both of us anyway."

something behind his eyes shifts at your tone, but you're sure it's not remorse. because kamisato ayato does not know love, nor feel remorse for matters concerning his home.

part 2 ! | part 3 ! | part 4 ! | part 5 ! (still in progress)

2K notes · View notes

kitmoas · 7 months

Text

when the veneer crumbles

the sounds of water are always relaxing

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: **18+ MINORS DNI**, SMUT, dark and demonic themes, death, possession, drowning, magic use, Mommy kink

as per usual if there is anything I missed let me know

Author's Note: I'm so sorry this one was late, had a lot of car and financial shit I needed to figure out but I finally got it finished. This was one that i always knew how i wanted it to end, even from last year when i first planned it for the Occult series, but for some reason it was REALLY hard to put my idea into words. Hopefully it's not HORRIBLE, i'm a bit rusty after taking more then a few months off. The rest of them will be better I promise lol

Kitmoas | Necrosis Kitmoas | Navigation

The crickets in the distance are a welcome change to the busy streets of the city, cars honking

nonstop during your work day. The world you live in is hectic and out of control but the farther you walk into the almost clear empty darkness the more you can feel the control you naively gain. Stepping into the barely touched woods behind the mostly abandoned house was something that you had missed, a childhood memory that had died suddenly.

Allowing your mind to wander to the summers that you would spend here out on the lake, jumping off the dock, and laughing with your cousins was the welcome peace you needed as you settled along the rickety wood. Even if those fun times were cut short at your aunt’s sudden death, you knew that being here gave you just a moment of your innocence back.

Stepping onto the rickety wood carefully, you cringe internally as your arm tightens momentarily around the rolled up soft blanket. You should have known better to bring a water proof material but it was too late for that. Knees cracking slightly as you lean down, the smooth fabric flaps in the wind and you sigh softly in relief as you are able to fully settle on the dock. Deciding to stretch out was a bit of a mistake, in your time away you forgot just how soothing the sound of water lapping at the damp wood was.

Goosebumps spread across your skin as you slowly came to consciousness, brittle wind chilling you to the bone as you rub the sleep out of your eye. The fog is dense, and confusing as it was supposed to be a clear night. Slowly sitting up, your bones crack as you stretch as much as possible without rocking the dock too much. The unstable wood is loud even with the bare minimum movement causing you to flinch as it echoes across the empty field.

Squinting through the haze, you try to figure out if you can gauge just how late it is by the placement of the moon. The only thing you can see is a weird tunnel out in the middle of the lake, almost like a tornado of gray. Immediate fear isn’t your first thought, though you begin to question just how awake you are.

Condensation makes the wood wet, slipping as you try to stand up but it's the glowing red orbs in the distance that makes you freeze in your half crouched position. They are captivating even from afar. The air around you is thick, filled with the now red tinted fog that almost looks like it's bleeding. Heavy and molasses-like as it lays on your skin, eyes flickering around you try to make sense of your surroundings.

When she gets close enough to see smaller details, your brain slows almost to a complete stop. She’s entirely too breathtakingly beautiful and tragically horrific at the same time. No color to her skin, it’s almost as though she comes directly from one of the old black and white television shows your mother liked to watch. The woman is wearing tight clothing, torn and ripped sporadically. Her eyes almost seem so gray that they are an ethereal foggy green, only flashing ruby when the shrap thin lines all over her body pulsate crimson. Her hair is long and dripping with an inky hue, tangled and disheveled. Fingertips dipped in a steaming tar, dancing near her side as she stalks towards you.

It’s when you can almost reach out and touch the figure that you finally scramble backwards, putting distance between the two of you as the flight side of your instincts kick in. You barely make it more than five steps when you’re being dragged upwards with some sort of red translucent mist. It wraps around your wrists, dragging your arms above your head as you flop about uselessly. Screams are getting caught in your throat as you have to just hang there, watching this being get closer to you.

When the lady is directly below you, the hair on the back of your neck stands up straight and your muscles twitch from how tense they are. You want to panic, to yell, but something stops you. Tilting her head, she has to look up at you from where her magic holds you against the rough bark. Her hand comes out to touch you, but the soft feeling comes as a surprise to you. She cups your cheek, a low red spreading in her eyes as you shake under her touch.

She smiles at you, a soft almost nurturing thing. “You’re just as pretty as I thought you would be, little lamb.” Her voice is chilling, breathy with a raspy tone to it. The older woman’s free hand caresses your stomach, an unwanted warmth sinking into your gut.

Her nails are jagged, cracked and repulsive, as she takes her time to explore your body. It’s sudden, the vigor in which she gropes your body. Clumsy and completely all over the place, you aren’t entirely sure what she thinks she’s doing. Struggling against your restraints, the chill covers your body like ice freezing over a lake.

It isn’t until your body takes over, fear and anger sinking into your bones, that the creature seemingly gains control of her actions and her hand becomes confident and firm. Nails pointedly scratching at your skin as fingers map out your skin, almost stabbing at each goosebump she finds. Your eyes are glued to your face as your mind struggles to catch up to what you had done, flinching as her other hand reaches up. It doesn’t strike you as you thought it would, instead she brushes the back of her knuckles against her own face, trepidation stopping your blood from rushing through your body as you finally realize that you spit at her.

That wasn’t what you wanted to do, you knew that you needed to act smart if you were going to survive this but for some reason all your ability to think logically went out the window. You wanted her more than anything in the world right now, and you knew that you needed to try and do anything to keep her exactly where she was.

“Do you not have control over your stupid little body, mortal?” Her voice is low, almost filled with gravel as she mumbles. Rust filled eyes not even paying you a second of attention but instead staring at the glistening saliva that drips from her fingers.

Your head is shaking vigorously, denying inability in hopes that she doesn’t see you as foolish. The desire to be praised by her came as a surprise, but you weren’t fighting it and it seems to have worked. A smile slowly stretches across the surreal creature’s face as she blinks slowly. “It’s so funny to see such a useless being believe they are worth anything more than what I deem them to be. You think by answering my question in whatever way you think I want will make the outcome of your situation better?”

She speaks softly, almost nurturing as she rubs her soaked fingers along your neck, smearing your own spit against you. You crane your neck as much as you can against the crimson smog wrapped there, trying to hear her voice as clearly as possible.

“I take what I want and no smart mouthed, stupid brained little human is going to stop that. I like to have fun, and the peak is watching you bleed out for me.” The words are harsh but you can’t help but moan as your body is thrown upwards, red tendrils tightening and dragging you to hang limply from the tree branch. It’s devoid of leaves, and creaks under your weight, but it somehow makes you feel like you have a safety net. You had climbed this tree many times in the past, and even had various hanging sets from this very limb.

Swinging freely, you try to move your body as much as possible as the urge to escape your confines sinks in. Entirely too focused, you don’t realize that her hands are moving along your ice cold skin. Groping softly, her movements are controlled and precise to make sure that you barely register it in your brain. It’s when her hands force your legs apart, maroon vapor ropes slithering around your thighs to hold them open, that you finally realize just how hard you are breathing. Your body felt slightly warm, at least in your core, and you could feel your blood rushing downwards. It was almost like your entire being was electrified and you were entirely too conscious of every single thing you felt.

She doesn’t take her time, her eyes narrow as she focuses on mapping out your skin. The bright ruby lines she leaves in her wake only entertain her for so long before she finally moves in between your shaking thighs. The older woman’s finger swipes through your folds, collecting the small amount of wetness she finds there. Gasping as she spreads it across your clit, a throbbing ache despite the way your body revolts. Her jaw mockingly drops when for the first time her eyes light up with amusement, giggling when your hips chase her hand. “Oh poor baby, I can’t fuck you if you’re not wet enough. It’ll hurt your small fragile little body too much and Mommy doesn’t want to hurt you.”

Your head is shaking violently, nonsensical protests tumbling from your lips. It didn’t matter to you, regardless if it was because you wanted her or wanted the situation to be over with, you just needed her to touch you. Even though your wetness wasn’t enough for her, you did feel aroused. Maybe it was your mind tricking you into believing this was what you wanted or maybe it was the glittering crimson behind your irises, but that wasn’t a piece of information that you needed to know.

She tuts, chastising you. “Now don’t lie to me. I know what you want even if your mind fights it, and your body hasn’t caught up, I know.” You watch as she takes a step back, letting her eyes drink in your form. Letting the back of her knuckles run down your torso, you watch as she slowly kneels on the damp dirt. Her hands are grazing over your thighs, pushing them farther open as she leans in. The grip she has on you, though gentle, is strong and you can’t kick her when you feel her mouth along your skin.

The smoothness of her strangely sharp teeth is hot against your cooled body, but it’s the sharp pierce and spilling of your blood that leaves a weirdly chilled warmth leaking down your leg. Eyes widening you try to look past the head of dark locks to see what just happened, but it didn’t take long for your brain to catch up and the stabbing pain on your inner thigh.

She looks up at you, sparkling light jade eyes catching the moon light, with a toothy smile and a small dribble of crimson running down her chin. “You’re a fucking vampire?” You couldn’t help the shocked yelp, body shaking with fear.

The being doesn’t even answer you, giggling as rolls her eyes up at you. She seems so innocent in those moments but nothing gets rid of the terror emanating within your soul. Looking back at your bleeding thigh, she swipes her fingers through the thick liquid to coat them. Her nails catch on the open wound, sending another wave of searing pain through your body but she pays no attention to you.

It almost feels like time stops as you hang there, waiting, but the moment the brunette swipes her crimson dipped thumb across your clit something in your body cracks. It’s small but you can feel the change and in your mind you start screaming at yourself. You know being vocal won’t stop this crazy woman, but you wanted to deter her by being completely unaffected. It was the last thing you had on her, to make her believe that what she was doing was just pure torture and you found absolutely no pleasure in it, but you knew that that power over her was no longer available to you.

Never one for vanilla sex, not even in theory, you shouldn’t be that surprised that being taken by force from a demonic crazy being would be right up your alley. No one could ever keep up with you, your fantasies were just a bit too intense or a bit too dangerous, and for once everything you ever wanted was being fulfilled. This gorgeous being was forcing her fingers farther into you, your blood dripping randomly down different parts of your body.

Despite your want for intensely kinky sex, you knew that it should be completely consensual right? It should let you know that, and you could feel your anger rising in your body as the heat zoomed between your thighs. This couldn’t be consensual, not with how it started, but if it wasn’t then why did the idea of her actually stopping tear you up on the inside? You couldn’t fathom the idea of her ice cold thumb pulling away from your throbbing clit for too long, for her touch on your body to not cause goosebumps.

She doesn’t wait much longer, no need to attempt to please you now that she has the wetness she wants, shoving two fingers into you with almost no remorse. A shrill scream gets stuck in your throat as you choke on the force of air rushing up, the pain bringing tears to your eyes. A sign of weakness that this twisted soul revels in as she thrusts her fingers in, letting her free hand drag up crimson periodically.

The pain was immense and you were certain that she had to be using something besides her fingers, there was no way that the small hands in between your thighs were causing this much agony. You wanted to shove against her, but the moment her teeth sink into your breast you know you’re gone. Hips jumping, trying to get her to move more as the pleasure starts to settle in your tummy, uselessly against her body. It felt so bad that the good started to come from a delirious state, and you just needed her to move. The tips of her fingers just rubbing slightly against the soft spot inside of you, the texture of her wrinkled skin felt wrong but you were starting to become obsessed.

“Isn’t it comical? A desperate slut like you thought you had everything together, thought I was going to ruin your life by taking what was destined to be mine?” Through the heavy fog that had begun to settle in your head you tried your best to look down at her, shock painted across your face. How did she know what you were thinking? She doesn’t give you any answer, instead her thrusting gets more aggressive as the wetness between your thighs grows, and it mixes with the blood still heavily leaking from the bite marks.

You want to moan, whimper, maybe even plead but you were no longer sure what you wanted. Logically you needed this to stop if you were to ever be okay again, but at the same time all you wanted to do was feel her mouth on your clit. You wanted her to fuck you until you were incoherent, a drooling mess. Hatred towards yourself and her fueled your motions as you tried to work to take more of her hand, stretching around her third finger as she shoves it ungracefully into you.

Her mouth is at your knee now, glowing eyes looking up at you as she smirks. “Taking me so well for someone so against getting used.” Her arm is moving roughly, fingers curling inside you as she ghosts her teeth along your thigh. “So clean, so dry. Why don’t you make a mess for Mommy? I like my cunts all wet and messy.”

It was then you found your power, despite the arousal burning in your belly and the way you clenched around her fingers whenever she swiped her thumb along your clit. You knew that the more you let your thoughts wonder, even if it had to be forced, that you would be able to pull yourself from the situation. Imagine yourself somewhere else and almost black out during everything, your body would be limp and pliant but not give her what she wants. The movie you would go see in a week with your best friends, or the long list of groceries that you knew you needed to get when you went back into the city. Thoughts swarmed your head as you tried your hardest to ignore the way her fingers poked and prodded, the way her thumb caressed your swollen clit just perfectly.

Screwing your eyes shut, you make your best attempt at seeming unaffected but you don’t realize that you aren’t winning. If anything you just make it more fun for the being below you, giving her the opportunity to make you as wet as she wants.

Being so focused on the thoughts traveling through your brain was good until you don’t feel the tugging on your wrists, persistent and firm. It’s only when you’re tumbling helplessly through the air that you realize you are no longer hanging from the tree, but instead falling face first into the freezing lake. It’s a shock, breaking the surface of the water. It knocks the breath out of your lungs and forces your throat to close, you can practically feel all your muscles seize as well. You make the mistake of opening your mouth to scream, causing a rush of dirty water to fill your lungs, and it’s only when her hand claws at the back of your head that you feel even an ounce of relief.

She’s tearing your body out of the water, pieces of the thin ice fly around you and you can’t believe that you relax as your body collides with her. “Don’t think that you can try to outplay Mommy like that you little slut. I know what you want, you are my destiny. You were made to take me, so be a good girl and let me do what I was made to do.” Her voice is sweet, almost soft, as she speaks through her teeth directly into your ear. It shouldn’t calm your racing heart, neither should the almost warm comforting touch of her red mist along your thighs.

You want to let yourself fall, the intense arousal is boiling in your tummy and you can feel the coil tightening with each brush of her hand along your body. It would be much easier to allow yourself to become immersed in the pleasure coursing through your body, but it wasn’t until she allowed that crimson fog to slip inside you. Despite the fact that whatever she was pushing into you was magical, you were still too tight for her liking. There was a part of you deep down that still didn’t want this and it was causing your body to react subconsciously.

‘If the slut doesn’t want to get wet, then I’ll keep you wet myself.” Her hands scratch up your side, a nail digging into your nipple on the way up and it makes your hip buck. You feel yourself melting back into her and a moan softly slips from your parted lips. The urge to pretend that it’s from the cold is strong, but you can’t even pretend at this point like the feeling of her hands on you isn’t turning you on.

Her hands are running along your torso, teasing your nipples and scratching up your stomach. It almost feels normal, just another hookup and it makes you forget. Losing yourself in the way that the ruby swells inside you, rubbing against the soft spot it finds and caressing your clit softly.

The wetness between your thighs is gathering the longer she plays with you, wine stained mist thrusting lazily into you. It almost plays with you, knowing that it ruts to hard or fast that it will bring you closer to the edge, but it keeps you writhing for more with each movement. You want to beg for more, ask her to touch you with her own hands as you have begun to crave her ice touch, though there is something that is stopping you from doing that. It isn’t necessarily pride, something you lost the moment you began to get turned on by this aggressive form of twisted affection.

It’s when her nails scratch at the back of your neck that you realize the fog that’s dragging you slowly, almost mockingly leisurely, towards the edge is growing. Almost like a ball, it feels like she’s pushing her magic abilities to stretch you to the point right before danger. You’re confused, as your wetness starts dripping down your thighs and your breath starts picking up, how much more wet could you get?

Instant regret floods your system almost as fast as the ice cold water that rushes down your throat as she shoves your face directly into the lake. It’s not a quick dunk to shock you this time, her claw-like hand squishing your face into the almost mud like dirt at the bottom. She doesn’t stop forcing more and more into you, her magical fog swelling larger and it presses against where your torso is now pressed against the ground. Even as you struggle against her, your internal will to try and live kicking in, you can’t help the build up in your stomach. The coil tightens as her magic moves within you, moving inside you as her nails dig into her back.

Sharp stinging pains are a contrast, an added sensation, to your panic as you begin to think maybe she is just going to keep you submerged. There’s no way she would, right? She wants to use you, there would be no reason that she would want to truly harm you.

A deep belly chuckle is muffled through the water, barely a vibration as your arm and head flail as much as possible. You wanted out but you can’t help but moan instead of scream, the pleasure of her nails into your shoulder blades and her thigh grinding between your thighs into the swell of mist there beginning to get too overwhelming. It was no longer a fight to survive but a fight to enjoy the last moments of life. Somewhere in your mind you knew that you wouldn’t actually make it out of this alive, but for some reason you’ve decided to ignore that.

“Such a stupid whore, letting just anyone touch your cunt.” She fists your soaked hair in your hand, and just for a fleeting moment the pain mixed with arousal takes over your fogged mind. “You don’t even know Mommy and yet here you are, taking my gorgeous gift like the good little fuck toy you are.” Her free hand abandons your back in lue of groping your ass, pushing down against it to get you to stop moving. Her thigh is pushing against your throbbing clit now, soaked in your wetness despite water lapping up as you splash about.

You can feel your vision start to darken, the edges of the burning sensation as you try to keep your eyes open have blurred and blackened. Unsure if you are even panicking anymore, your body starts to relax and the only thing you can focus on is the fuzzy warm arousal filling each nerve in your body. The water floating around you becomes tranquil as each muscle in your body softens and you move with each thrust into you.

A wide sinister smile stretches unnaturally along the being’s face, pulling her almost gray lips as far as they can as she stares down at your almost lifeless body. She can see the signs and for her it motivates her even more, forcing more and more of her magic into you. You were everything she could have ever wanted and she refused to let you stay in the living world, if she was destined to be stuck to this lake forever then so would you.

Slowly you could feel all the tension in your body start to clump together in your stomach, draining from the rest of you and tightening around the scarlet orb inside you. You craved that last bit of pleasure, that last rush in your veins to end this for good.

When it becomes almost impossible to move and you are no longer shaking from panic or exertion, but instead trembling from hanging onto the edge, she knows it’s time. Sneering down at your limp form, she uses her grip in your hair to turn your head. Slapping at your cheek until she can just barely see your fuzzy bloodshot eyes, an almost soft nurturing smile paints along her face once she sees your drunk like state. “There’s my girl. So fucked out.” Her sphere cloud inside you starts to vibrate, her cold dark eyes once more glowing a dim ruby.

Gripping at your jaw, her claw practically breaks your neck as she forces you to keep eye contact with her. Even as your eyes slip closed, struggling to stay open as you start to dangle over the edge, you can’t help but feel drawn in to listen. “Say my name, little toy, say it and stay with me forever.” Her voice is raspy, bordering soft but she’s taunting you. “You know it, you know you do, so say it. Say it now.” Her actions become frantic, her thigh grinding more aggressively into you. She’s trying to force you into a more pathetic state, even at the edge of death she wants you to be begging for her.

As much as you can you try to deny knowing, because how could you? You had never seen this person, if that’s what she is even considered, before this horrific situation. The attempt at trying to keep water from going down your throat had stopped, your lungs should have filled completely with liquid by now so some other power must have been keeping you alive.

Though you couldn’t see it, the being was getting annoyed. Her eyes rolled as she realized that you were thinking again, a brain dead creature who could still think. “Say my name and you can cum for Mommy, like the pretty little whore you are.” She spits at you through her teeth, pointed and your blood drying on the dull shine. With her words she sees a change in your stature, even held under the force of her hand, eagerness. Humming slowly she allows her maroon mist to sink into each part of your body.

Your brain was almost empty, nothing but serene thoughts going through it as you felt yourself slip into the darkness. You thought that there would be a light at the end of the time but instead you start seeing a faint rosy hue. The being above you is yelling at you and the need to give in is strong, you want to end everything on a high. You need that high.

Her name slips into the water almost silently, your eyes slipping closed as you fall into unconsciousness, but it’s there. She hears it, muffled, “Wanda.” Usually one of her biggest fears, not one to want to go back to the damned dark world but with you she could thrive. A black magic demon who accomplished its goal? She would rule the world with a scarlet leash around your neck. A small smirk as her magic starts to die, a sure sign she’s going back to being contained. Until the end of time you will be her needy little toy, just as you were as you took your last breath.

#kitmoas | Necrosis #wanda maximoff x reader #dark wanda maximoff x reader #kinktober #kits kinktober #wanda maximoff #dark wanda maximoff #marvel fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maxmoff x y/n

308 notes · View notes