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alottanothing · 4 years

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Left to Ruin: Chapter Sixteen

Summary: The pharaoh Ahkmenrah takes his new queen with ample celebration. Nouke learns of the struggles laid out in her new path.

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 9684

Warnings: 5K PLUS WORDS OF WEDDING NIGHT SMUT. You younglings stay away, (18+ only)!! Why am I so thirsty? Seriously this chapter is the longest one in the whole story because I’m a thirsty hoe.

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe, @r-ahh-mi, @theultraviolencefan, @hah0106, @rami-malek-trash, @diasimar, @sherlollydramoine, @flipper-kisses, @ivy-miranda-2390, @txmel, @sunkissedmikky, @concentratedsassandcandy, @babyalienfairy, @edteche2 (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: I-uh-sorta went feral with this one. I got my feet wet writing smut a few chapters ago and with this one I straight up jumped into the deep end. Hopefully you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, thank you so much for your comments and reactions! I adore you all! Once again as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible

When Nouke stepped out into the hall with Setshepsut at her side, dripping from head to toe in finery, she did so with a new wave of confidence, using every perfect step as a moment to reflect. Her childhood was spent roaming the very halls in which she strode, wearing shoddy garb, ignored, and expected to serve men and women greater than herself. She’d come so far from the life of servitude she was born into. Now, Nouke walked freely, poised on a higher tier than a princess. Her rags were replaced with riches: adorned in fine linen and gold—she was someone no one could ignore.

Servants and nobles alike bowed to her as they passed, the crown on her head a sign of the status she would soon carry—its weight a reminder as well. Every piece of her history and the shimmering future laid before her was difficult to wrap her head around, but it thrilled her nonetheless.

Before another surge of hesitance could claw into the pit of her stomach, Nouke cast a studying glance to Setshepsut, watching the elegant way she carried herself. Her inherent grace was much like her brothers, especially when he turned on his pharaoh act. Every line in her body was straight but not rigid. Her posture was precise but comfortable; with her shoulders squared and her chin held just high enough to resonate a calm authority, she was regal without seeming arrogant.

Every step was weightless and fluid like a leaf on a breeze; Nouke walked as though she had rocks tethered to her feet. It took effort to stifle her frown, suddenly overcome with the desire to replicate the casual sophistication.

The chance she could master a paralleled radiance before they reached the council chamber was nil. Too straight of a posture would come across as stringent, and if she angled her chin even a fraction too high, she would surely come off as snobbish: two factors Nouke was keen to avoid.

With some luck and a large amount of diligence, Nouke knew she would be able to find that middle ground on par with the likes of Setshepsut and the rest of her family. Until then, Nouke made a vow to herself to stay calm and mimic Set’s gentle smile, hoping she did not look as foolish as she felt.

When they reached the set of double doors, Setshepsut took the liberty of opening them herself. The council room was longer than it was wide and decorated with statues of the most important gods. Shelving ran along the wall to her right, housing scrolls of papyrus and other idols. At the rooms center was a long wooden table, which was already filled with a sea of unfamiliar faces.

A sense of panic consumed Nouke when each of the foreign faces turned to appraise her with varying expressions she had trouble reading. To a degree, she expected to be met with a cold welcome. To them, she was a filthy servant—a witch—who seduced their noble pharaoh into giving her a seat in the monarchy. Most of them probably wouldn’t believe her if she confessed to not wanting the crown; she just wanted Ahk.

In spite of the scrutiny, Nouke held her resolve, unwilling to let them upset her. Ahkmenrah chose her to be his queen. She had nothing to prove to them except, possibly, how much love she possessed for the pharaoh: that she would most willingly prove for the rest of her life.

Uninterested in catering to so many probing expressions, Nouke scanned the faces until she found Shepseheret at the furthest end, happily seated next to Maketaten. A grin broke through her protective mask of indifference as she found her mother dressed in finery befitting a noble. She looked so young and healthy the vision was almost enough to fill Nouke’s eyes with joyous tears, but she fought them, not wanting to ruin her makeup.

Beyond them, Merenkahre stood looking calm and pensive, harboring the same confident air Nouke needed to master.

Without a word, Setshepsut ambled prettily around the table to take the empty seat next to a handsome young soldier, leaving Nouke alone in the open space between the head of the table and the wall of shelves. The loss of her closeness triggered more panic to manifest, causing the rhythm of her heart to increase and a lump to build in her throat.

Instantly her mind and her eyes searched the room for a way to remedy the sudden wave of anxiety, wondering if she should join them at the table or wait for instruction.

Just as she was starting to feel faint from holding her breath, everyone who was seated stood.

The abruptness startled Nouke with a gasp, and before she could follow their gaze to find an answer, Ahkmenrah twined his fingers with hers, throwing her a blinding, toothy smile.

“Hello, my love,” he said proudly.

His presence easily allayed her unease and suddenly, Nouke felt weightless.

“Hi,” she replied with a dreamy exhale, her awe prompting his lips to curl into a grin until laughter lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes.

“If we now may proceed, my king?” Merenkahre cleared his throat to gain their attention.

There was the slightest hint of an adoring smile playing on the former pharaoh’s lips. No more was his face a mask of dutiful indifference; there was sincerity in his tone and eyes that was a welcomed sight. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to win his approval after all.

“Yes, father,” Ahkmenrah said with a respectful nod.

Merenkahre returned the gesture and took a single step to place himself between his wife and Maketaten.

“In following tradition, marriage contracts are usually written by the fathers of the young man and young woman. However, we must offer our condolences to our soon to be queen and her mother. Ramentukah was a loyal soldier under my reign and a good man.”

The room collectively bowed their heads in a show of respect—a moment of silence that was bittersweet.

“Thusly,” Meren began again. “I thought it more appropriate, that in this circumstance, the mothers scribe this agreement.”

Merenkahre stepped back into his previous place as Shepseheret and Maketaten stood, both smiling.

“Ahkmenrah. Anuksamun. I speak for both of us when I say it warms my heart to see the both of you reunited,” Shep began.

Maketaten brandished a roll of papyrus and laid it on the table as Ahk’s mother continued, “The terms of this marriage are simple. It states that in the unlikely want of a break to this union, any children of royal blood will remain heirs to the throne of Egypt. The homestead of Maketaten, Ramentuka, and Anuksamun will remain their property. Until such a time, the farm's upkeep will be the responsibility of the crown to ensure its longevity.”

“Are these terms agreeable to you both?” Maketaten added.

It was absurd to even speak about the notion of their union breaking; Nouke would never surrender Ahkmenrah, and she knew beyond a doubt he would never surrender her.

“Yes,” they said in unison, causing them both to crack a smile.

A pridefully pleased grin spread over Shepseheret's face as she gathered the marriage document and brought it to their end of the table.

“Then, if you please. Make your marks, your majesties."

Nouke’s heart was hammering as she watched Ahkmenrah scribe his name; the rush of excitement made her feel faint again, and she gripped Ahk’s hand a little tighter to keep from falling. He passed her the quill with another blinding smile, and her hand was shaking so badly it took all of her focus to will it steady as she wrote her name next to her husband's.

And then, it was done. He was hers, and she was his—forever.

Merenkahre spoke then, his smile wide and sparkling, a hint of his son’s expression peeking through.

“Our honored guests, and respected councilmen. It is my pleasure to present to you the pharaoh Ahkmenrah and his Queen, Anuksamun!”

***

While Nouke found the ceremony to officially mark her union to the pharaoh to be—in a word—underwhelming, the celebration that followed made up for the boring political fuss of signing a document in the confines of the council chamber. The moment she stepped into the great halls of the palace with her husband, the commotion of the festivities echoed through the stone walls in such a way it was difficult to pinpoint their true origin.

Sounds almost alien, bounced around in a muffled and obscured clamor that instilled Nouke with curiosity. The corridors were nearly vacant as they strode; everyone, it seemed, having been coaxed with intrigue to the cause of the sounds pulsing through the palace.

Step after fluid step, the din of celebratory excitement grew louder until the halls of the palace gave way to a large courtyard oasis. Nouke’s breath caught with thrill as she took in the unbelievable sight, the crowd gathered below the stairs she and Ahk stood atop.

Shouts of praise for their king and queen burst from the guests below, in a thunderous roar that triggered a wave of shock to freeze Nouke's movements. Were it not for the proud smile on Ahkmenrah’s lips, the number of eyes suddenly cast upon her would have been even more staggering. His heartened expression was enough to combat the fluttering of butterflies in her belly, and she smiled too.

His sparkling eyes met her with a silent question—to ask if she was ready to keep going—and she nodded. Confidence thrummed from him and into her where their hands were joined, lending her the posture she thought she would need to work at to master. With Ahk at her side, the air of casual dignity came to her with ease.

She felt a true queen at that moment as a hush fell over the crowd when they began descending the stairs. Every person fell in a wave to their knees, parting like a river through sand for them as they slowly tread past.

Ahkmenrah was the paragon of regal as he moved throughout the crowd, his crown gleaming in the burning of torchlight, his golden robes catching the breeze, and sweeping elegantly behind him. Like all those before her, Nouke too was in awe of his presence: so calm and utterly beautiful. And all hers.

When they reached their destination at the center of the grand courtyard—a raised platform of identical twin thrones—Nouke was unsure if her heart was pounding from the thrill, the nerves or simply by the way Ahkmenrah glowed at her side.

There was so much to focus on from their stage and Nouke’s eyes scanned over it all feeling breathless. It wasn’t until Ahk stole a quick kiss that her nerves settled. He proudly drew her into the warmth of his orbit, and out from the tepid eyes surrounding them. The glean in his eyes moved through her entire body, snaking and rooting into her core.

Ahk’s puckish grin spread wider, recognizing her look of want all too easily, and gave her one last peck before turning to address his still kneeling guests.

“Rise, my loyal, most cherished friends.” Ahkmenrah’s voice bellowed with a robust, prideful vigor that immediately settled between Nouke’s thighs despite the mundane nature of his words.

With a small bereft sigh, Nouke bit her lip and steered her focus to the crowd hoping to allay the heat Ahk’s deep bravado stirred.

“Tonight, I am the happiest man in all Egypt. Fore on this night, I have the supreme honor to introduce to you, my wife.” Ahkmenrah’s glittering eyes turned to drink in her sight, holding her gaze as he spoke again, “Whose beauty could have only come from the gods themselves. She is my greatest love, and your new queen…”

He sounded breathless, completely in awe, and almost in tears when he continued, “I present, Anuksamun!”

Instantaneously a chorus resonated throughout the air, “My Queen!”

Everyone bowed before her, even Ahkmenrah bowed, murmuring a gentle, “My queen,” that curled tendrils of warmth through her body.

Nouke’s mouth hung agape as her eyes flitted over each bowed head, her heart bursting and pounding all at once, overcome with a hundred different emotions, but mostly she stood with disbelief and profound gratefulness.

With a deep breath, Nouke poised herself with all the grace and confidence she could derive from those turbulent feelings inside and prayed her voice would not crack under the onslaught of pressure.

“My lords, my ladies, my new friends. I am humbled by your praise. It is my honor to share this night with each of you.” She paused to take in another slow breath, letting her sight catch Ahkmenrah to gauge how her first official address was faring.

His eyes were wide with admiration; his lips parted and quirked into a three-point smile. The look of reverence instilled a fresh wave of courage, and Nouke continued.

“Thank you all for making the journey to celebrate with us—”

“Let the festivities commence!” Ahkmenrah declared, ceremoniously flailing his arms to the heavens with a toothy smile that put the moons silvery light to shame.

All at once, the large garden erupted with life as every manner of entertainment broke out. Music and laughter sprung up on every side, filling the air with an ample joy that mirrored the sensation buzzing in Nouke’s chest.

With the spotlight no longer on her, a grin unfurled on her face, both proud and glad their guests were suddenly too caught up in the merrymaking to pay her and the pharaoh much attention.

“That was terrifying,” she half-joked with a shaky giggle.

In a fluid movement, Ahk’s arms were around her waist, guiding her against him until nothing remained to part them.

“You, my love, are a natural,” he purred with a smirk before claiming her mouth with his.

The delicate sweep of his tongue over her lip, begging for entrance, cajoled a pleased hum from Nouke’s throat. She was only too willing to open for him--starving for his intimacy after days without it.

His kiss was all greedy tongue and skillful lips, dancing desperately against one another, tasting and worshiping, until it stole the air from their lungs, leaving them panting with desire. Warmth coiled for each of them, low in their abdomen, spurring more quiet and indecent laments to pass—muffled—between them.

It took all of Nouke’s diminishing will power not to ravish her pharaoh then and there for everyone to see. His lips curled into a devious smirk, and his eyes trailed down the deep V of her neckline with a hunger no feast could fill, gnawing his bottom lip to curb his own appetite.

She shivered, thinking he was going to indulge her lewd fantasy and christen her his queen there before all of his subjects. However, the cloud of lust dissipated as quickly as it had formed when Ahkmenrah’s family swarmed them with praise and introductions.

Nouke had only met Ahk’s older sisters once or twice in her youth. Most were married off to important husbands before she and Ahkmenrah were old enough to speak, but she did remember that they were all beautiful, kind people.

While she stumbled through each introduction, confusing names of sisters, husbands, nieces, and nephews, each welcomed her with open arms. As they caught up with their younger brother, Nouke stood at Ahk’s side, her heart swelling every time she found a piece of her husband in one of their expressions. Ahk, Set, and their oldest sister had a tendency to bite their lip before they smiled. His laugh was a perfect echo of his second oldest sister and all of them had strong jaws and expressive eyes. There was an entire repertoire of matching idiosyncrasies that made Ahkmenrah and his sister’s harmonious, and Nouke was never more delighted to be among a group of strangers.

***

Nouke was unsure how far into the night the celebration had lasted when she found herself longing for it to be over. The food and drinks continued to flow endlessly; the guests continued to dance and thrive in the convivial atmosphere without constraint. She alone seemed to beg for an end.

Sleep was far from her mind, yet the thrill of the festivities concluded when Shepseheret and Setshepsut pulled her away from Ahkmenrah, tasked with the obligation of introducing her to all the important ladies of Egypt in attendance.

The burden of duty, she thought, easily recalling each time Ahk had spoken of duty and frowned. At last, she understood. And just like her dutiful husband, Nouke wore a kind face and as regal a posture as she could manage, while her mother-in-law and sister-in-law paraded her from noble to noble.

Each woman greeted her with a respectful bow, yet not all their praise felt genuine, which made for a keenly distressing jumble of introductions and conversations. From awe to abhorrence, their lofty masks split to reveal the truth of how they saw her. Some commended her for coming from nothing, while others made it clear with only their icy tone, that the notion of a commoner queen repulsed them.

“Don’t let them get to you,” Set said in a timely fashion, just as Nouke’s anxiety was beginning to root in her bones again. The negativity and false faces were too much too quickly.

“Some of them are jealous, and some of them are upset my brother chose you over their daughters.” There was a smug quirk to Setshepsut’s lips that was enough to allay a sliver of Nouke’s malaise finding it to be a twin of Ahk’s smug simper.

Still, Nouke’s brows had difficulty not knitting together with inquiry.

“Did Ahkmen not tell you?” Set asked, her brows pulling together in a similar expression.

“Tell me what?”

Setshepsut’s features softened into a genuine, wholehearted smile, and she looked to her mother.

“When the council encouraged him to seek out a second wife, my husband sent for suitors,” Ahk’s mother explained, joining the conversation as they stood amid the sea of guests.

It should not have come as a surprise the handsome, young pharaoh would have a line of women waiting to wed him, and even though she’d married him hours prior, Nouke struggled to keep jealousy from twisting a frown onto her lips.

“Ahkmen denied them all,” Setshepsut assured her, once again swift enough to combat the nagging sensation the thought of suitors conjured. “He was already so in love with you; I'm not even sure he truly looked at any of them.”

Nouke’s smile grew firmer, “When did this all—”

“A few weeks before you showed up,” Set said happily. “It is as though the gods knew you needed one another.”

Nouke beamed, and while her words struggled to compile themselves to form a response, she knew Set was wise enough to understand that the feeling was the same.

“The gods always know what we need before we do,” Shep said in a scholarly tone, full of wisdom and warmth. “Which is why the gods blessed me with three daughters before a son. His kindness comes from all his sisters, and kindness can be just as powerful as any weapon a king could hold.”

The former queen’s sentiment was not lost on Nouke; Shepseheret's knowing expression provided enough context. Her son would always rule Egypt with a level head and no cruelty, unlike his brother.

A quiet moment passed as they idly scanned the crowd around them until Shepseheret’s elegant posture relaxed.

“I do believe we’ve met everyone.” She exhaled, releasing more of her queenly persona, looking every bit as exhausted from the charade as Nouke felt.

“I know those were a lot of names and faces, but it will spare you in the future,” Shepseheret explained, offering an apologetic smile. “It should keep them from showing up unannounced to introduce themselves.”

Nouke frowned, “They do that?”

Ahk’s sister nodded, frowning herself, looking more irritated than sad.

“Mmhm, any excuse to possibly gain more favor with the pharaoh.” Set threw a narrow-eyed glance around them. “Everyone here is not-so-secretly vying for the next-best position of power.”

Nouke’s frown pressed deeper into her features as she glanced at the party-goers through a new lens of understanding. It made so much sense suddenly—the grandeur of every detail—the frock and the praise and the forced well wishes.

Every soul in the garden was there only for the prospect of selfish gain, be it for a seat at the pharaoh’s council or merely to nurse from the royal teat. They attended only to take whatever they could: meals and drink and entertainment when no guest in attendance ever knew a day of famine.

They owned no golden crown to mark them supreme over all, but they were mayors and governors—lords and ladies—who knew only lavishment and plentiful meals. None of them put in a day’s labor under the sun out of fear of going hungry. And still, they took what was provided freely with heedless greed.

The worst thought was that the pharaoh could do nothing but play along to ensure no offended party sought to overthrow him.

Queen for less than an evening and already the weight of it all seemed crushing.

“I’m going to find Ahk,” Nouke announced, suddenly in need of his warmth after hours of only cold faces.

“Thank you,” she added with a genuine smile, grateful to have them both to ease her into her new life.

A sickly air of melancholy swept over Egypt's new queen as she wandered the party alone, her inner thoughts a tangled web that drastically contrasted the joviality enduring around her. Nouke felt her usual spirit unexpectedly laden: overwhelmed and acutely out of place among a legion of highborn faces. Their mocking expressions could not be overshadowed by the few wholesome gazes that met her as she walked making her spirit heavier.

Every non-distracted face and sober mind bid her a bow as she maneuvered passed, each act making her wonder whether they saw a queen or a servant strolling by.

The envy was easiest to catch on the young faces of potential queens; each one of them beauties Ahkmenrah passed up to tie himself eternally to her. Nouke did garner a hint of pride at that particular thought, manifesting with a well-hidden smirk.

Nevertheless, by the time her feet carried her across the spacious garden to its center where the twin thrones sat, Nouke felt thin—like the threadbare garments, riddled with holes, she wore on her farm. She lingered a moment in the open area between the masses of guests and her throne, letting her focus slip into the distance with a deep inhale, and a slow exhale. Only after several slow, calculated breaths did her spirit find its center once more, bringing a much-needed wave of calm.

The abrupt sound of children laughing quickly stole Nouke’s focus, and the sight she found was enough to devour the remaining traces of melancholy. Instantaneously her face erupted into a grin so wide it hurt to hold. All at once, the heaviness in her heart melted into a warmth that swelled to fill her entire body with adoration.

Upon the lordly stage, where the thrones sat unoccupied, was Ahkmenrah and a slew of his tiny nieces and nephews. All of them were laughing and smiling as their uncle playfully chased them with a mischievous smirk on his lips, his fingers outstretched and threatening to tickle them. Nouke’s heart fluttered, and tears prickled her eyes as she pictured their children running and giggling as Ahkmenrah chased them; beautiful babes with ringlets, blue eyes and smiles that rivaled the sun. What a wonderful vision.

The smallest of Ahk’s nephews let out a yelp when he scooped the boy into his arms, his cry immediately followed by a barrage of shrieks and laughs as his uncle tossed him into the air. When the pharaoh caught him, Ahk kissed the boy’s cheek before releasing him. The little boy let out another mirthful cry as his tiny legs carried him into the crowd the moment his feet met the ground. Ahkmenrah’s grin was like magic, unfurling slow, with ample affection as he watched his nephew vanish into the sea of people.

Several of the other children ran after the toddler, all carrying on with convivial squeals that somehow made the pharaoh’s grin even brighter. Only one of his nieces remained, older than most of the other kids, but still small enough to warrant her yanking on her uncle's cape to get his attention. Ahk turned his radiant smile upon her, and she matched its vibrance when he scooped her up as well, neatly tumbling backward onto the wide seat of his throne.

The little girl cackled as they expertly fell, reaching with wonderment in her eyes for the golden crown on her uncle’s head. Ahk’s smile touched his eyes as he carefully removed it and placed the headpiece on her head. Immediately it slipped past her ears and nose, causing her to giggle as she pushed it back far enough on her crown to see. She stood in Ahkmenrah’s lap, throwing her arm around his neck for a quick hug before mussing his hair.

A second later, the girl hopped from his lap with an excited squeal and ran to join the other children, her uncle's crown still on her head.

Ahkmenrah chuckled a delightful sounding bellow that shook his entire body with joy as he settled back into his throne effortlessly. He took a long swig from his goblet that was precariously perched on the wide arm of his chair, relaxing.

All at once, the warmth in her chest dripped further down, becoming something much more immodest than the virtuous affection it had been only a moment ago. Never had Nouke been so compelled to sit on someone’s lap. Seeing her husband forgoing his perfect posture for a lax slouch, legs sprawled wide in front of him, with the curls on his head an unruly mess, made her tingle and ache.

He was like poetry in motion, and all hers.

The keenly alluring sight of her husband perched so prettily on his throne, with a hint of kingly arrogance playing around his upturned lips—brought on by the drink in his hand—was like flint on steel. Sparks stoked molten heat to spill to her core; like a pot boiling over, the wave of longing begged for attention. No routine introduction or beckon of duty was going to keep her from taking advantage of such an enticing sight. The liquid desire coursing through her veins evoked a brazen want that Nouke clung to, allowing it to bleed into her movements. Her sultry gait quickly caught the pharaoh’s attention and the moment their eyes met; Ahkmenrah's playfully arrogant smirk spread into a wide, adoring, and proud smile.

“My queen,” he purred, welcoming her into his lap gladly when she lithely perched herself there, tucking her legs at either side of him.

She swept her fingers through his unruly curls, no longer able to quell the desire to do so, before her hands came to rest at the back of his neck. A gentle hum vibrated from deep in his chest at the glide of her fingers over his scalp, and his eyes fluttered shut as he savored their feel. Just the sound was enough to prickle her touch starved skin in a wave of goosebumps.

As her fingers wove and played absently with the hair at the back of his head, the queen met her king's eyes in a gaze that transcended all others; an exchange marked with wonderment, as though the meaning of life itself was transcribed in the smoldering colors of each other’s eyes.

Nouke’s heart was beating with a familiar, anticipatory fervor; every passing moment without kissing him moved painfully slow. There were hundreds of wandering eyes, but sensibility was lost when she was under the worship of Ahk's stormy gaze. He looked upon her as though she was the only living being in the universe; a mix of awe and affection that coupled sublimely with the quirk of rascally desire on his lips.

Ahkmenrah's own aura was inherently beguiling, effortlessly eating away every rational thought until Nouke found it impossible to douse the growing fire within her, wandering eyes be damned.

Shamelessly, she took his bottom lip between hers, teasing a brush of her tongue over the sensitive skin until Ahk welcomed the kiss with a hungry sound. Nouke leaned closer, controlling the lascivious play of his lips and tongue, purring agreeably at the delicious taste of her king's mouth under her own.

Ahkmenrah artlessly abandoned his goblet, the clank of the chalice against the stone ground barely registered when his hands came to moor at the small of her back, and the heat of his fanning fingers consumed all her senses. He drew her closer still, the slight friction against his frame utterly divine as their kiss built with a burst of fervor. It deepened and expanded, her hands holding his jaw as their joined passion became something inevitably bigger than they both could contain. Nouke’s sober mind grew drunk with lust when his heavy breath swept over her skin; Ahk’s low gasp curling around her spine. Every sensitive part of her was tingling. She wanted him. Needed him.

When they parted to find their breath, the blue of Ahkmenrah’s eyes was narrow; a thin ring around wide pools of black, and he blinked slowly, watching her with feline intensity.

“Are you enjoying the festivities, my love?” he asked once his breathing calmed. His tone was like velvet, warm and luxurious; a bravado that actively attempted to unravel any trace of composure she had left.

Nouke’s lips quirked into a coy smirk as she considered her answer until she decided to reply with a kiss; her words tangled in the haze of her desire. Her hands surrendered their delicate press to the edge of his jaw, blunt nails raking over the skin of his neck, mapping the jeweled wesekh and down further over the lean muscles of his torso until she found the bulge under the silky fabric of his shendyt.

The pharaoh shifted and gasped a choked sound as his eyes fluttered with mild shock, lips trembling into a grin. With a purr and a mischievous simper of her own, Nouke palmed him, the sensation of his girth twitching and growing with even the slightest touch instilled Egypt's new queen with pleasurable power no crown could ever foster.

“I am now,” she whispered against his ear, and when she flicked her tongue to taste the soft lobe, Ahkmenrah groaned.

The strain to keep his kingly resolve in front of potentially gauging eyes only made Nouke want him more. His eyes fluttered shut as she pumped him slowly, watching as he gnawed his bottom lip to combat the need to express his pleasure with a wanton cry.

Another rampant surge of power tore through her in a wave that heightened each of her senses and dripped to her own arousal. The desire to hear every sound she could coax out of her handsome pharaoh fueled every movement. She worked down his covered length, brushing her pinky over his sensitive tip, and when he moaned, Nouke muffled it with a burning kiss. An impish grin worked onto her face while she sucked and nibbled his bottom lip until her resolve folded as her mind and senses blurred with lust.

Ahkmenrah was quick to pick up the shift in her ministrations, their kiss stealing some of her confident vigor. The distraction of his lips allowed him to gather her dress just enough for his fingers to find her heated center. Without ceremony, he glided two digits through her slick folds, and he grinned.

“So wet for me,” he murmured, his thumb sweeping quick circles over her sensitive nub with enough pressure to make her gasp.

The shock of his delicious fingers was enough to make her forget the scene around them.

“Oh! Ahk!” she bit out louder than she should have. Instantly her vision flashed white and her once preoccupied hands anchored themselves to his strong shoulders.

“Shhhh,” he admonished gently, pumping his fingers slowly and just enough to send Nouke reeling.

All rational thought abandoned her, leaving her to the mercy of her own desires and her husband's gifted fingers. Suddenly, Nouke cared little about who may have taken notice of their less than proper behavior.

Wantonly, she rolled her hips into his cupped hand, its heel providing the friction she longed for. A jolt of pleasure pulsed through her, and her walls squeezed tight around Ahk’s wide fingers, causing them both to moan.

“I do so love the intimacy of large gatherings,” he mused, watching her as she skirted around the edge of unravel, so very close to coming undone already. “Everyone is entirely too caught up in everything else to notice anything. . . peculiar.”

Nouke gasped when Ahk pressed the heel of his hand against her clit with a sweeping motion that triggered a wave of euphoria so grand his name tumbled heedlessly from her mouth again. The pharaoh pressed a finger to her lips to shush her cry, throwing her a devilish grin.

“That is, of course, if you don’t make too much noise.”

Even through her half-lidded, hazy vision, Ahkmenrah’s impish smirk was easy to make out: supremely proud of his innate ability to properly sate her.

In a rapidly diminishing moment of clarity, Nouke drew his thumb into her mouth, tongue curling around the digit, sucking and hallowing her cheeks until the act won her a groan from her husband, giving her a taste of satisfaction.

Had she been capable of more than a solitary moment of coherent thought, Nouke would have happily gone back to teasing him, but her body was greedily playing into his game; surrendering to desire with eager desperation. Nouke released his thumb when her mouth fell open with another cry of pleasure as her hips bucked against the soft heel of his hand.

The pharaoh’s free hand moved to cradle her throat, the brush of his finger so soft. His warm lips followed his touch, trailing from her jaw to her neck, as his hand fell to palm the globe of her breast. Even through the fabric of her dress, her nipples stiffened wantonly at his contact, her head falling back, body shivering. Nouke husked out a ragged sigh, a helpless cry that wanted to be more, but he shushed her again just as gently as before. Warmth curled through her body, triggered by the timbre of his soft chide, making the muscles in her abdomen so, so tight.

“Come for me,” Ahk murmured low against her ear, his teeth grazing the soft skin of her lobe.

Nouke bit out a sharp inhale when his confident fingers began working her in earnest, steering her with precision to that heavenly peak. Another moan spilled past her lips as everything inside coiled hot, and tense and hard.

“Quiet, my love,” he warned softly, and she could hear his smile.

“Come for me, my beautiful queen,” he encouraged, hooking his fingers perfectly.

That was enough.

The velvet of his voice in her ear coupled with the feel of his hand circling the aching cluster of nerves at her center swelled until it burst, surging throughout her body like lightning from the tips of her fingers to her curling toes. Every nerve was on fire with ecstasy.

The intensity secured her to his shoulders with a white-knuckled grip, afraid she would fall. Her lips parted with rolling whimpers and tiny cries she could not contain, riding out her pleasure as quietly as she could will herself to do.

“Perfect…” Ahkmenrah marveled, completely beguiled by the sight of her undoing.

When the waves of her pleasure shifted into small tremors of aftershock, Ahk withdrew his fingers, leaving Nouke suddenly bereft. She whined on account, blinking slowly until her vision came back to her.

Despite the threat of wandering eyes, Ahkmenrah pushed each slick digit into his mouth, indecently sucking and licking them clean, his expression utterly smug.

Little by little, the entirety of Nouke’s senses returned to her; the lusty haze dissipating enough for her to lay her focus on her handsome husband who was ogling her with playful arrogance.

Immediately she cursed herself for allowing Ahk to get the upper hand. He ruled every night they spent together—not that she minded; Ahkmenrah was an attentive, generous lover. However, Nouke felt it more than fair she got a chance to be smug, to send him reeling. No longer could he hold over her the guise of the powerful pharaoh who did as he pleased. She was a queen, and she was going to prove it.

Nouke shifted in his lap, a sly gambit to test the state of his arousal. She licked her lips feeling his hard length beneath her; the peak of her tongue making Ahk’s lewd smirk grow. Nouke matched his arrogant grin, and the change in her body language sent a devious twinkle into Ahkmenrah’s lust dark eyes.

Before he could, Nouke kissed him, pushing her lips on his with prurient vigor stemming from the irresistible need to be the master of his undoing. The phantom feel of his fingers inside her encouraged her movements, her wet center grinding against his clothed cock. A low groan rumbled from deep in his chest.

“Shhh,” she admonished teasingly.

Nouke grinned when his blunt fingernails pressed into her hips in an attempt to quiet his own cries as her body continued to roll against him. She kept her hands at either side of his face to hold him where she wanted, controlling every movement of their kisses.

Ahk’s tongue was warm and velveteen like his voice, the inside of his mouth damp and hot, and when he made another low groan, it wound around her with warmth. Ravenous need began to whirl and tighten deep in her belly once more, and for a moment all traces of playfulness was scoured away leaving only breathless need.

Nouke willed herself to focus, breaking their kiss long enough for the haze to settle, carding her fingers through his dark hair as she met his eyes. They were half-lidded and sparkling—the blue-gray she loved nearly consumed by black. The more or less smug twist on his kiss swollen lips did well to lend Nouke a rational thought: a reminder not to let him win the game again so quickly.

Once more, her hips rolled against his pulsing length, coercing soft hums and groans past his lips in a beautifully soft fanfare that worked between Nouke’s thighs as she fought off a cry of her own. She tugged his bottom lip with her teeth before moving to the heavenly angle of his jaw, her tongue tasting its sharp edge from his chin to the soft skin behind his ear.

Ahk inhaled sharply, his mouth falling open as her name spilled heedlessly off his tongue in a tone too loud to be a whisper. His hips bucked in helpless abandon, arousing another strangled moan deep in his chest, and Nouke stopped.

The pharaoh’s breath hitched at the unexpected end to her ministrations, and the sudden loss of her body against his prompted a whimper. Nouke reveled at the sight of his blinking, wild eyes searching her face for an explanation while she nonchalantly took her time re-situating her gown and jewelry.

Right where I want you, she thought, stretching her legs to allow blood to flow.

Her husband was still blinking, looking profoundly bereft and confused when she threw him a coy smirk. A flash of her tongue to tease and wet her lips caused him to swallow—hard—and his mouth fell open, as though he wanted to speak.

All Ahk managed, however, was another choked whine.

Nouke held his gaze for only a moment before turning without a word, ambling into the crowd with an air of mystery she knew would see him venturing after her—once he’d calmed himself down first.

This time, as the new queen strolled through the mass of party guests, her spirit was buzzing with a puckish charm that carried her feet across the garden in a buoyant stride leaving her oblivious to any mask of disdain thrown her way.

It wasn’t long before she found a vacant corner, free of guests and guards; a quick discovery that made Nouke smirk. Ahkmenrah was right, there was a certain level of solitude that correlated to large gatherings, and she was abundantly grateful.

The sounds of celebration faded into the distance as the fervent beat of her heart grew more prominent in her ears. Only a few minutes passed, but Nouke was impatient. Every nerve in her body was aching to finally have Ahkmenrah buried deep inside of her; ready to feel that coiling spring snap for a second time as she was lost in the feel of him.

However, neither she nor her husband would know that satisfaction until he paid for what he’d done; defiling her proudly and publicly—the perfect justification to have her way.

The moment he found her leaning against the high stone wall; Ahk's eyes devoured her. Nouke recognized the look of animalistic need on his face—she felt it in herself—and the second he stepped into her orbit, heat pulsed to her core. Hastily, she clenched her thighs in an attempt to deter her own want.

Make him yours, she reminded herself.

But Ahkmenrah’s hands and mouth were already on her. He pressed her against the wall with avid hunger and a low, sensual growl that was almost enough to steal the teasing Nouke had in mind. The pharaoh was so decadent and rich to taste—a nectar that was so sweet; it made her feel helpless each time his kiss was deep and full of passion. It took all of her will power not to drown in the luxuriousness of his tongue and mouth.

“I do not like seeing you walk away from me like that,” he scolded, his pouty upper lip close enough to brush against hers as he spoke.

The bass note of his voice dropped sinfully low, and the lascivious fire in his eyes was difficult to look away from. His words prompted a chill to work down her spine as he pinned her harder against the wall.

Slowly, a familiar haze began to cloud her mind when his warm lips seared a line of wet kisses down her neck, sucking and nibbling until soft purple marks burnished the surface of her skin. Each one he tasted with a wide sweep of his tongue, making her hum gentle encouragement—sinking further into his ministrations.

Nouke’s nails dug into his biceps, leaving tiny red crescents, her body bucking wantonly against his—betraying her rationale. Ahk had a talent for unraveling her resolve.

With what clarity remained, Nouke pushed through the haze. Her fingers sunk deeper into the muscles of his arms, sureing her grip, and with a calculated spin she pinned him against the wall.

The sudden rush of power was like a drug in her veins, spreading wild with desire she couldn’t quell. An impish smirk drew her lips with a curl seeing the look of shock in his big, beautiful eyes, and she quickly covered him with her whole body. Her nails raked possessively down his arms as her hips rolled against his middle, relishing in his hard length pressed against her center.

When he moaned, she kissed him until the air was taken from his lungs, leaving him panting and thirsty for more. Ahk hissed and bucked under the friction of her undulating movements, and Nouke’s lips trailed down the line of his throat, suckling on his fluttering pulse.

“My queen…” he sighed raggedly with exuberant praise of encouragement.

Her mouth climbed inexorably upward, along the column of his neck to the edge of his jaw, and Ahk’s head rolled against the wall. She coaxed a groan from his lips as she suckled her own marks on his flawless skin, tasting each before mapping the rest of his enticing throat with her mouth.

While her lips explored, Nouke’s hands wandered the lean plates of his chest and torso, calloused fingertips raking over the tight muscles of his abdomen before venturing lower, untying his fanciful belt with practiced ease.

Ahkmenrah’s moan was low and loud when she gripped him through the fabric of his shendyt, the sound eliciting tendrils of warmth to pool in her center. Nouke stroked him lazily over his silky garments, her focus lost in every guttural sound she was able to cajole out of him.

Her hand stilled, prompting a whimper and she blazed a line of kisses to his ear.

“Would you like your queen to kneel before her king?” She grinned when his skin erupted in goosebumps, inspiring another wave of power to envelope her.

“Yes,” Ahk swallowed.

“Yes, what?” she murmured, sliding a single finger under the waistline of his shendyt.

“Yes, my queen,” he husked out just as her fingers dipped bellow the fabric and curled around his cock.

A string of profanities spilled from his lips and his head rolled against the wall; Nouke watched with avid thrill as he unraveled with every slow stroke she offered. She surged forward to kiss him in a hasty brush of lips before tasting her way down his body, humming pleasantly at the feel of his muscles shifting under her mouth.

Every sound and instinctual movement of his body chasing the pleasure she stimulated rushed through her own like fire. Nouke's thighs were slick with her own arousal, her core ready and begging to accommodate him.

A sort of sigh escaped Ahkmenrah’s mouth when she released his throbbing cock to kneel in front of him. She could feel his lustful gaze upon her, and she met it, tugging gently at the fabric that hid him until the garment slipped past his slim hips, all the way to his ankles.

His freed cock jutted proudly, and she licked her lips taking in the sight of his kingly grandeur—there truly wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t perfect.

When she glanced to meet his gaze, she found it half-crazed with lust, pleading for her to touch him. A mischievous smirk quirked onto her lips as she leaned to press soft kisses to each of his hip bones, causing him to whine until finally, she took mercy on him.

Gently, she curled her fingers around him, letting her thumb swirl the pearly bead of precum over his sensitive tip, feeling him shiver and hiss from the sensation. She squeezed him to reacquaint herself with his girth before stroking him once, delighted with the way he trembled against her.

He was a vision of licentious need, and Nouke was certain no queen ever felt so powerful on her knees as she did then.

Nouke kept eye contact as her tongue unfurled to taste him, licking his entire length before taking him into her mouth. A haggard string of curses tumbled off of his tongue, groaning as he pushed his hands into her hair to keep her head still against the slight thrust of his hips, fucking her mouth slowly until her tongue swirled over his tip.

Ahk’s body stilled and tensed as Nouke dipped and suckled, cheeks hallowing as her hand worked his base until with an impetus shove, he pushed her away.

“I need you,” he proclaimed urgently, pulling her to her feet and into a sloppy kiss.

“Yes,” she agreed against his mouth without protest.

Nouke welcomed his weight when he turned to pin her to the wall, the swift gesture awakening something dark and primal in them both. Without ceremony, Ahkmenrah freed her breasts from the gown she wore, humming delightfully, his palms instantly molding to the globes like his hands were made to hold them. He kneaded and pinched until her nipples stiffened, and when he leaned to kiss the soft underside before dragging his tongue over the stiff peak, Nouke moaned loudly feeling his smile of satisfaction.

Every part of her was more sensitive to his touch than ever before, his hot breath tingled over her skin as he kissed his way up her torso to her mouth. Her fingers trembled as she gathered her dress before swinging her leg around his waist to draw his center against hers.

In a single perfect thrust, Ahk glided to fill her, completely engulfed and could go no further. They moaned in unison, the sudden pleasure almost enough to work them over the edge in one fell swoop.

His movements were slow at first, surely an attempt to draw out every moment of their pleasure, and she tightened around him at the same rhythm, watching his eyes darken and flutter until his thrusts became the paradigm of desperation. Nouke’s head rolled against the stone wall, staccato moans of absolute lechery spilling from her mouth as her husband fucked her hard.

The pharaoh buried his face in the crook of her neck, his teeth nipping the darkening spots of lavender he’d kindled previously, each bite shooting a luscious chill throughout her whole body.

Nouke gasped and keened, free to make any and every sound he coaxed out of her this time, and he did the same. Every hungry thrust teetered precariously between calculated and clumsy. One, a mindful push that aroused glorious friction, while the next was a carnal shove that yielded both pain and pleasure.

Her fingers twisted into the short hairs at the back of his head, pressing against him to better angle herself to meet every thrust. Immediately she was rewarded with a fresh wave of heat that seeped to where they were joined, arousing a moan to pass between them.

“Ahk,” she cried, so close and almost in tears from the intense waves of pleasure he sparked with every thrust like nothing she’d ever felt.

Nouke clung to him with an iron grip despite her rapidly diminishing strength. She choked out another moan when his hand hoisted her other leg around his waist, creating a new angle that found her sweet spot every time his hips hammered into her.

Sweat beaded to cool her skin, provoking more chills to work down her spine, coupling euphorically with every other sensation vibrating through each nerve ending.

“Ahk…” she husked out again in a plea, the muscles in her abdomen constricting, her walls growing tighter around his cock as her climax built.

His lust-filled eyes took several moments to find their focus as his hand moved to cradle her throat—a gesture of prideful passion—squeezing just enough to propel a fierce jolt of heat to every hollow and shadowed place inside her. Nouke’s muscles grew impossibly tighter, back bowing in reaction.

Ahkmenrah’s hand was still on her throat when he found the focus to drink in the sight of his queen. The lewd intensity in his black eyes was something that, even through her hazy vision, made Nouke powerless against him.

“This time I want you to scream,” he demanded with a growl and a crooked smirk. “Come for your king, and scream so everyone knows you are mine.”

As he spoke, his hot breath scorched across her overly stimulated skin, causing the build-up of tension to snap at once. She screamed as everything uncoiled in a white-hot rush. Nouke’s vision tunneled, forcing her eyes shut, tears ruining the kohl as they streamed down her face at the manifestation of her joyous pleasure.

The erratic pulse of her walls worked Ahkmenrah to the brink, hips trembling as he reached his peak a moment later. He cried her name into the air with a chanted refrain that echoed the movements of his thrusts until he filled her; hot cum coating her walls, mixing with her own.

Her head rolled forward onto his shoulder, its weight suddenly too much to manage as she came down from her high, sounding a haggard but satisfied sigh. Ahk mimicked the motion, resting close enough to plant soft, barely there, kisses to her neck and shoulder as he held her with all his remaining strength.

“Did I hurt you, my love?” he asked in a calming murmur that was free of his previous, dominating bravado.

After a couple more steady breaths, Nouke raised her head to meet his gaze; his eyes were blue again—the lusty blackness chased away. There was a twinge of concern on his compassionate features that made her heart swell as he searched for an answer in her expression.

A gentle smile spread over her lips as her fingers mapped the line of his jaw in feather-light touches; her eyes fixated on his, enchanted by the kindness glistening in them.

“No,” she said, her smile growing. “On the contrary.”

Ahkmenrah beamed and joined their lips in a lazy passionate kiss.

Incrementally they unwound themselves from the other, and immediately Nouke missed the feeling of him inside of her. By the look on his face, Ahkmenrah shared the bereft feeling and made a point of keeping himself pressed to her body as they stood.

“Do you think anyone heard us?” Nouke asked with a coy smirk playing around her mouth and eyes, unable to look away from her husband's swollen lips.

He teased her with a flash of his tongue, making them shine deliciously in the starlight. Ahk stole a glance around, then met her with a cheeky smirk.

“It doesn’t appear so,” he paused. “Perhaps we should try again?”

His brow hoisted high into a playful arch as his hands wove behind her, giving her ass a firm squeeze.

“If you think you’re up to it.” Nouke matched his grin and tangled her fingers in his thick hair, gently massaging his scalp.

Ahkmenrah closed his eyes and purred at the sensation of her blunt nails working the crown of his head. He stole a quick kiss before his entire face erupted into a toothy, arrogant smile.

“You doubt your king?”

“Never.”

Nouke claimed his lips again, feeling each of their impish grins mold into a soulful and demanding show of effortless passion. It took only the sweep of his tongue begging for entrance to prompt the familiar heat to begin to build once more, and when he moaned, she did too. They were blatantly aware how easy it would be to chase their pleasure to completion a second and third time, and both of them didn’t care. They were making up for lost time.

Ahkmenrah was already semi-hard; the growing length of his cock pressed against her making her ache, and she whimpered impatiently.

“Always so eager,” Ahk mused, reaching as he dipped a finger between her slick folds; the surprise almost enough to send her careening back over the edge.

Before Nouke could bite out a witty response, the sound of Setshepsut’s voice broke their serenity.

“Nouke!?”

The sudden sound rendered their roaming hands and lips immobile and Ahkmenrah cursed under his breath with a defeated smirk.

“Apparently, my sister heard us.” Although his tone was annoyed, his expression was amused.

When Set’s call came again, it was closer, causing the king and queen to scramble in a rushed attempt to make themselves look respectable; as if the purple and red marks on both their necks weren’t evidence of their rendezvous.

“Nouke?!...Oh! Ahkmen, have you seen Nou—”

Ahk was still tying his shendyt when he turned to cast her a grin. And while Nouke couldn’t see it, she knew it was undoubtedly gushing with shameless gusto and telling enough to match his hastily adorned attire and wayward curls.

“What’s the matter, Set?” Ahk asked as he casually bent to retrieve his discarded belt and refastened it.

Setshepsut’s eye watched him, blinking, mouth slightly open as though her words were suddenly lost.

“I—um—heard Nouke scream…” she decided on, abruptly looking as though she regretted investigating the sound.

The pharaoh tossed a quick look to his queen behind him, then met his sister with a prideful smirk, “I assure you; we are both quite well.”

Set nodded, casting a swaying glance to them both, “I see that.”

She paused to give her brother a mock look of disapproval, “I am aware the future of Egypt relies on you producing an heir, but some of your guests have noticed your absence. I suggest you finish this up.”

She eyed them both with a quirk tugging the corner of her lips that made it clear she was more amused than dismayed.

“Of course, Set. We were only doing our duty as king and queen,” Ahkmenrah teased further, and Setshepsut rolled her eyes.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed as she turned away to make her way back to the party.

“We probably should go back,” Nouke sighed as she smoothed out the wrinkled front of her dress.

The allure of staying tucked away with Ahkmenrah was almost too much to ignore, but the beckon of responsibility was stronger. When he glided effortlessly into her orbit, wrapping his arms around her waist, she reached to comb her fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame the messy curls she couldn’t keep from touching.

“Mmm,” Ahk purred, brushing the tip of his nose over her’s gently. “We do have the rest of our lives to spend together.”

He never looked away from her, his eyes crystal clear.

“I think we can afford to share the rest of this night with people who came to celebrate us,” he added as he pulled her into one last kiss that drifted into a slow draw that embodied the depth of his love.

“Are you with me, my love?” Ahkmenrah wove their fingers together as he spoke.

“Now and forever,” Nouke nodded.

Next Chapter-> Chapter Seventeen: The Blessings We Deserve

#Ahkmenrah #Ahkmenrah x Original Character #Ahkmenrah Fanfiction #Night at the Museum #NATM #NATM Fanfiction #Left to Ruin #Rami Malek Character #Rami Malek Character Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction #Rami Malek #Smut #Ahkmenrah Smut

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Text

A Moment

A/N: As I perused my Masterlist, I realized I had never done a virginity-loss story. Because I’m still in my soft-bitch-feels, here’s a continuation of “Say You Don’t Care” with Ahkmenrah. And it is achingly sweet.

Warning: Full smut ahead, so begone under 18s.

A month passed after your admission of virginity to Ahkmenrah, but for the first time, nothing changed.

He didn’t distance himself.

He didn’t start acting like you were made of glass.

He didn’t stop flirting with you or teasing you.

And he didn’t stop touching you or kissing you.

In fact, you were currently straddling him on the couch in the breakroom, your mouth hot against his as his hands rested on your thighs, his fingers sporadically clenching with an itch he didn’t hide from you as your hand palmed his hardness over his shendyt.

Detaching your lips with a slight gasp, you breathed, “Ahk?”

“Yes, my sweet?” he answered, his freed lips moving away from your mouth and travelling along your jaw.

“Touch me. I—I need you to touch me.”

Ahk’s gravelly groan sent a shiver of lust down your spine.

“Where? Tell me where,” he purred as his hands came to rest on your hips, his fingers flexing into the flesh of your bum while his thumbs pressed into the indentures near your hipbones.

“My—my . . .”

Ahkmenrah’s right hand slid over to your juncture, his thumb now pressing enticingly above your legging-covered clit.

“Yooour?” he teased.

In frustration, you squeezed where your hand had been rubbing and he hissed, his own hand returning to your hip as he looked up at you.

“Seems we are at an impasse,” he chided as he bit his lower lip and looked up at you, his eyes fighting a losing battle to conceal their mirth.

You removed your hand from his shendyt then settled both on his shoulders, the beads of his wesekh cool under your palms as you looked into his polychromatic eyes, more green than blue today, and took a deep breath.

“I want you to make me come.”

“Make you come, hmm?” Ahk teased as he gently pushed you off his lap, reaching up to stretch as if he were disinterested while you stood, hands popping onto your hips as you blew out a breath of exasperation.

With a slight quirk of his lips, Ahkmenrah slowly reached for the strings that bound his wesekh and after untying them, he laid the jumble of beads on the floor by the couch. Next, he stretched out, nestling into the cushions as he patted the spot in front of him for you to lie down. Once you did, Ahk settled his leg between yours, his hardness still evident and pressing into your hip; he cupped your face and turned you toward him, kissing you sweetly, then with hunger before he released your face and slid his hand down your body, dipping beneath the waistband of your leggings.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, letting his fingers work. He loved to touch you, to work you up and whisper in your ear to let go, so it didn’t surprise you at all that Ahkmenrah was taking his time, sliding between your lips and dipping shallowly into your heat, teasing you with his intent.

A moan escaped as you grasped his wrist when he brought his fingers to your clit.

“So pretty like this my love,” Ahk spoke in your ear, his breath warm as its puff disturbed the strands of hair nearby.

“I wish you could see what I do to you.”

His name tumbled off your tongue in response and you opened your eyes to focus on the way he was looking at you as his middle finger circled your clit, the pressure increasing as your body closed in on its release.

“Come for me, my sweet girl. Come,” he spoke, his voice straddling the line between a command and a plea, which never failed to send you over the edge.

Unable to hold your eyes open, your neck arched and your head pushed into the sofa’s armrest as you soaked Ahkmenrah’s fingers. Breathy pants fell from your lips as your thighs clenched and held his hand prisoner.

Eyes still shut, basking in the bliss of a good climax, you suddenly realized that your body still ached for something—it ached for him.

When your eyes popped open with this hard awareness, you shifted into Ahk’s body and began kissing any part of him your lips could reach, uttering, “I need more, Ahkmenrah. I’m ready for more.”

“My sweet,” he answered as he began to detangle himself, his mouth softly smiling. “It is easy to get carried aw—”

“No,” you cut him off, grasping his face and looking him square in the eye. “I mean it.”

Ahkmenrah’s lips parted as he furrowed his brow and searched your face. The understanding that eventually settled in his expression without either of you needing to speak another word, let you know you were right—it had been worth waiting for someone who knew you so well.

“Not . . . here,” he spoke with resolve as he struggled to sit up on the couch.

Once he clambered up, he reached for your hand. Ahk quickly led you to one of the newest exhibits on the topmost floor—a home-series that was done to showcase a variety of eco-friendly interior designs, and two of the displays were bedrooms.

“Is this suitable?” he asked, choosing the brighter of the two rooms, the bedding done in crisp whites and shades of purple.

You sat on the bed and bounced, making sure it was actually something plush and not a piece of plywood.

“It’s comfy enough,” you answered, excitement fluttering inside your stomach.

“I have been making use of this serene location to study,” Ahk said as he pulled out a drawer and held up a set of flashcards. “I find the scents here most appealing. It is not . . . not a fake odor, like all of your modern things.”

“Plastic—plastic is the smell you don’t like.”

“Unnatural,” he said, shaking his head.

“Is--is there a way to ensure we won’t be interrupted?” you stammered, now wondering if those butterflies weren’t just a bit of nerves, too.

Ahkmenrah’s lips pursed as he thought, then he smiled as he barked a short order in ancient Egyptian. His eyes watched and waited, trained on the doors that led to this exhibit until you both felt the floor tremble as his guards settled, their intimidating outlines only just visible through the frosted glass.

“Now then. We shan’t be disturbed.

“But I have to ask, just once more,” Ahkmenrah stated as he sat down on the bed next to you, reaching out to turn your face to his. “Are you certain?”

“More than—I mean, I’ll have to edit some of the details, but who will ever have a better ‘first time’ story than me?”

Ahk laughed and pressed his forehead to yours.

“If you want to stop, at any time, please say so.”

“I won’t want to.”

“Humor me?”

“Yes, Ahkmenrah, my loving, doting prince. I promise I’ll say stop if I want to stop.”

“Thank you.”

You kissed him softly, but soon found yourself straddling his lap once again, the kiss turning eager as your mind was consumed with the thought of your beautiful Egyptian undressed and poised to satiate your ache.

Reaching for the hem of your shirt, you broke the kiss to pull it off and toss it on the floor. You began to push at his cape, tugging at the sleeves before frowning.

Ahk chuckled and gave your bottom a squeeze.

“Allow me,” he said, moving to stand as you slid off his lap.

“Please do,” you gestured with a wave of your hand.

Ahkmenrah took a few steps forward, his back to you as he worked out of his cape and let it fall to the floor. You sucked in a breath as you watched the muscles in his back flex, realizing that this was a sight you could drink in for a lifetime.

He stepped out of his sandals, and you watched as his hands came to rest on his heavy belt. He turned his head and spoke over his shoulder, “Would you like me to turn around?”

“Yes. I mean no. No. Or . . . I don’t know, “you stammered, and he laughed.

As he straightened his shoulders, you watched the backs of his arms as his hands crossed in front of his hips and in a flash, his shendyt whispered to the floor.

You swallowed hard as your eyes raked over his backside, and your heart may have actually skipped a beat as you took in all of his honey-colored skin.

“Ready?” he asked, clearly able to feel your absorption in his form.

“Turn around.”

Ahkmenrah spun around and just stood there, hands at his sides, cock hard, a smirk on his face, looking like a deity come to life.

“I sometimes find it hard to believe you aren’t made out of wax,” you said as your eyes trailed over every inch of his body. You had probably seen almost every inch of him—just not all at once.

“Some people believe a perfect form is a myth. Clearly, the gods stopped creating man in their image when those Macedonian wretches—”

“Easy, killer. Keep your focus.”

“Yes. Too dark right now,” Ahkmenrah agreed, moving swiftly to stretch out on the bed. “Your turn!”

With a deep breath, you stood and removed your shoes and socks, then added your leggings to Ahk’s pile of clothes, working them off in a way that was nowhere near as sexy as watching his shendyt drop like an expensive dress.

Clad only in your bra and panties, you chanced a glance at his face and felt emboldened by the unadulterated lust that emanated from his gaze. Not to mention the very light grip he had on his cock as he watched you, his thumb running back and forth over his tip.

You unhooked your bra and let it fall to the floor, your nipples drawing into peaks thanks to the constant stream of air conditioning that seemed to run, winter or summer, throughout the museum.

“You are so beautiful,” Ahk stated, his voice just as confident as it had been when he was discussing his own appearance.

With another glance and a shy smile, you slid your panties down your legs and stepped out of them, moving closer to the bed.

“Like Anat,” Ahk breathed. “No—even more stunning than she.”

You were a little embarrassed by his praise, but Ahkmenrah released his cock and scrambled to the edge of the bed, his legs opening just enough for you to stand between his knees.

Those strong fingers of his ghosted over every part of you he could reach, and before your eyes could slip shut, he said, “I love you, Y/N. I am honored by your decision.”

“I know,” you answered with a sweet smile.

Ahkmenrah stood and pulled you flush with his body. His earthy scent was as intoxicating as his warmth, and his hands gently ran up and down your back, making you pliant under his touch.

Your hands were resting on Ahk’s waist and you slid them up, over his chest, and to his shoulders. You looked into his eyes and were lost, two silly grins spreading across your faces as you looked at each other in anticipation of the coming intimacy.

Moving one of his hands under your chin, Ahk tilted up your head and lowered his mouth to yours.

At first, his lips just laid softly on top of yours, your eyes slipping shut and your hands wrapping around the back of his neck. Slowly, he pulled back to capture your upper lip, then your lower, pulling it between his lips and lightly sucking.

You licked lightly at his upper lip and Ahk released your bottom lip so you could deepen the kiss, your tongue entering his mouth, relishing in the taste of him.

You felt yourself being pushed gently back onto the bed and Ahkmenrah settled between your legs, his weight propped up on his arms as he began to kiss down your neck, pulling moans from your throat as he sucked and licked his way to your breasts.

His mouth encased your nipple and you reached down to grasp the back of his head, threading your fingers through his thick curls, pressing his face into the flesh of your breast until he pulled back, his tongue gently flicking at the stiff peak before moving over to repeat his actions.

You appreciated his attentiveness, but that ache, that need that felt like it was an animal all on its own made you hurry Ahk along, wriggling higher up on the bed and pushing his shoulders down so he’d keep going.

“I know you’re eager but I want this to be as painless as possible,” Ahkmenrah said between kisses over your stomach and your abdomen.

You nodded and squeezed your thighs around him in agreement, and when Ahk reached your core, he gently licked at your clit and you felt like your body was on fire. He was paying attention, though, and didn’t play with you for long. Instead, he sat up and spread your legs, your thighs easily falling open and for a moment you lost your breath, nerves fluttering through you as you thought this was it.

However, Ahkmenrah reached out with his finger and gently worked into your opening, thrusting shallowly as he gathered your copious wetness.

The sensation wasn’t enough—even when he added a second finger.

“Please,” you begged, a part of you just wanting to finally know what it felt like to have someone inside of you, another part of you craving the intimacy, the new connection that would be formed between you and Ahkmenrah.

He leaned forward and hovered over you, his fingers still working inside of you, but he was spreading them, pushing them against your tight walls, encouraging them to stretch.

“Soon, my love,” he soothed. “So soon.”

Ahkmenrah looked down at you, his own cheeks flushed, his lips parted as he breathed, his bright eyes memorizing your face as you looked up at him, and as you got lost in the affectionate warmth that radiated from his eyes, he slowly pulled his fingers out of you and replaced them with the tip of his cock.

He teased at your entrance, slickening himself, and you blinked, realizing that this was a new sensation.

“If it hurts—”

“I’m ready,” you said with finality as he bent to kiss your mouth before tracing his tongue along the edge of your jaw.

When he got close to your ear, he whispered, “Do you want to watch me disappear inside of you?”

A fresh flood of arousal coursed to your center as you processed his words, then nodded.

He pulled another pillow off the bed and situated it under your head before he sat back on his haunches and pulled your thighs flush with his, your legs spread open as he gently grasped your knees to hold them in position.

Ahkmenrah watched you as your eyes dropped from his face as soon as he pushed forward, his cock entering you slowly, giving you time to adjust.

It felt more odd than painful, to be stretched so wide with no abatement.

“Move,” you instructed, your eyes glancing up and catching the look of stern concentration on his face—he was so focused, it was comical. “Move, please,” you requested with a giggle.

Ahkmenrah closed his eyes and slowly pulled back before thrusting into you again.

“I am not going to last,” he admitted, opening his eyes again to check on you. “Are you—”

“I’m fine. Please.”

Ahkmenrah began to move with a slow, steady rhythm, determined to guide you away from the strange, uncomfortable sensation of having sex for the first time, and to move you toward that satiation of your earlier ache.

You watched him moving in and out of you, and you had no idea it would be so erotic to finally understand the feeling of having a man inside of you, and as you relaxed, your walls stretching as nature intended, you realized how powerful sex could be.

Ahkmenrah was lost; his face was still twisted in concentration and his fingers were bruising on your thighs. His chest was flushed and as it crept up his face and neck, the red deepened his skin from its golden hue to a pretty, deep russet.

He looked like a god, exiled from heaven and entirely at your mercy.

Had you known your body could turn this once-king, who always felt larger than life, so human, you may have been ready even sooner to give yourself to him. And therein was the contradiction—you were giving yourself to him, but it felt as though he was completely bent to your will, his body a slave to yours and not at all the other way around.

Overcome with emotion, you reached for Ahkmenrah and he blinked, refocusing on your face before he released your thighs and moved up your body, his torso resting against yours, his heat merging with yours, and you closed your eyes as you moved, too, no longer afraid of the discomfort.

“Ohhh,” Ahk moaned low in his throat. “My love.”

“I love you,” you whispered in his ear, reaching to kiss his jaw, clutching at his back and wanting nothing more than to extend this moment for eternity.

Not long after your declaration, Ahkmenrah held himself up, his hand cupping your face as he bent his forehead to yours and came, yet another new sensation that you thought felt strange as his cum flooded within you.

When he stopped moving, you held him against you, whispering for him not to move, not yet, not yet. Murmurs and whisperings of love passed between each of your lips as you softly kissed.

“Are you all right,” Ahk gently asked, when he moved to lay next to you.

With a grin, you rolled half onto him, and nipped at his lower lip.

“When can we do that again?”

Ahk’s face split into a wide grin, his teeth white and flashing as his chest began to rumble with laughter.

“Considering the way I feel about you, a moment, my love. All I need is a mere moment.”

You watched his eyes as he spoke, the laughter dying in his voice as his seriousness took hold, and for what could have been seconds or minutes, you locked eyes and luxuriated in the mutual radiance of your sweet love.

#Ahkmenrah #natm ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah fanfiction #ahkmenrah smut #but it is SWEET smut #Ahkmenrah x reader #female reader #rami malek characters #rami malek #first time #first time fic

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death-crossing · 3 years

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meet Echo, eyes and ears of a post-stranding world.

Read Death Crossing here

modelled on Rami Malek

#death crossing #death crossing tag #echo death crossing #echo #rami malek #nb character #non binary character #they/them #character design #original character #oc #mercy a speaks #mercy a's sketches #death stranding #death stranding fanfic #death stranding fanfiction

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sherlollydramoine · 4 years

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Making Bread

This was inspired by a conversation that @yousaycoke-isaycaine and I had because we both love to bake bread. This is written from the man’s POV but the man is not specified so that you can imagine it to be whichever of the BoRhap Boys or their characters that you want it to be. :) This is my first attempt at something like this.

Warnings: None really. Smut implied towards the end.

Word Count: 561

Walking through the door after a long day at work my olfactory senses being assaulted with the smells of multiple layers of sugar, yeast, and flour that waft in from the kitchen, smiling to myself thinking “She’s been busy today.”

Quietly closing the door, not that it would matter since her music was up loudly enough she’d never notice, a small smile still tugging at the corners of my lips as I silently make my way towards the kitchen.

Coming around the corner I had to bite back a laugh as I observe her standing at the kitchen counter the muscles in her arms and shoulders flexing and moving as she kneads what appears to be some kind of doughy blob that’s coated in a layer of flour. Her brow coated in a light sheen of sweat whether from the exertion of working the dough or from the excess warmth of the kitchen, her ass shaking in time to the Led Zeppelin song blaring through the speakers as she sings along to it while her hands push and pull at the dough.

“God, she looks so fucking beautiful like this.” And she really does look beautiful. The pure joy radiating off of her while she moves completely unaware of the fact that she is covered in streaks of flour with a tiny bit of sticky dough glued to a strand of hair that she keeps exasperatedly trying to blow out of her face. My body reacting to the sight of her in a way that it is want to do whenever I see her, acting on its own accord, aching to touch her, and love her until she’s sleepy and content.

“Done!” She yells out to no one, or maybe she is aware of my presence though she has given no indication that she’s seen me, as she sets the dough into a pan. I watch in silence as my cock is now painfully hard and straining against the material of my pants as she closes her eyes singing out the last few lines of the Led Zeppelin song, dancing in circles as she opens the hot oven, bending over as she sets the pan inside and slams the door closed. She reaches up to grab the timer that rests on the back of the stove as she twists and turns the little dial, unbothered by the stickiness that covers her hands.

My feet decided to finally allow me to move from where I’d been rooted during my voyeuristic observations of her. I wrap my arms around her waist and almost laugh as she jumps in my arms nearly headbutting my face as I startled her.

“Babe, you scared the hell out of me!”

“I’m sorry my love, I couldn’t help it,” I reply, as I feel her softly giggle as she discovers the way my body has reacted to her and she playfully grinds her ass into my crotch.

“Well my love if you let me wash my hands I’ve got about forty-five minutes until I need to take the bread out of the oven.”

I didn’t think that my smile could possibly get any bigger but it did, and I wasn’t going to say no to her tempting offer. It’s what I wanted, what I always want from her. No one will ever love me the way she does.

@xmxisxforxmaybe @madamsledge @txmel @diasimar @mrhoemazzello @theultraviolencefan @ramimedley @the-real-ramimalekpeen @itsme690 @flipper-kisses @r-ahh-mi @safinsscar @ghoulsonline @ramisgirl512 @hissom1933 @spacedustmazzello @sassystrawberryk @ramimalekpan @breadnbutternips @itslula1991 @imnottiredofgettingoveryou @zodiyack @hazeleyedbeth @w0lfglrl17 @alottanothing @mezzomercury @rawmemalek @sasha--1996 @rami-malek-trash @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @anotheronebitesthedick @stewielover95 @puffnstuff08 @petites-fantasies

#Rami Malek #Joe Mazzello #Rami Malek Characters #Joe Mazzello Characters #Rami Malek Fanfiction #Rami Malek Blurb #Rami Malek Imagine #Joe Mazzello Fanfiction #Joe Mazzello Blurb #Joe Mazzello Imagine #ben hardy #Ben Hardy Fanfiction #Ben Hardy Blurb #Ben Hardy Imagine #Gwilym Lee #Gwilym Lee blurb

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moonlightmalek · 4 years

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You - A Rami Malek story

Chapter One.

2009

Rami

It was like it was only yesterday when I heard mom mention the idea of having monthly family activities. If the name of it didn’t sound stupid enough, I’m sure the things she had in mind to do were going to be equally as stupid. I have nothing against spending some quality time with the family, but knowing mom it would be some sappy theatre show or watching concerts of her favourite singers.

But neither of us –Sami, me and Yasmine- dared to say one single thing negative about mother her idea. We knew how much it meant to her. We barely had time due the busy schedules. I worked as an actor, Sami as a teacher and Yasmine as an ER surgeon.

All we wanted was mom to be happy, so we all simply agreed to the monthly family activities. We had no clue what she had in mind. The only thing she said was that she had everything under control and we had nothing to worry about. Which made the three of us worry even more.

Yasmine had tried to get mom to say something more about whatever we were going to do, but that didn’t work one bit.

I resided in a small one room apartment just at the outskirt of Los Angeles. It was the most I could effort with my small loan from staring in the minimum shows and movies that were on my resume. And still I shared the rent with 3 of my friends who stayed here when I was out of town.

Despite its small size it was more than enough for a single man. I didn’t need anything more for now. My main focus was now on my career and nothing else. And if I do get in relationships they don’t last longer than over a month. Not because of me but the other finds another, in their words, better partner.

The hot shower water ran over my body as I stood in my bathtub. A small apartment comes with an even bathroom, in this case one where was barely any space to put anything else than the bathtub, sink and toilet.

A rusty showerhead was attached to the wall, barely hanging on. I know I had to get it fixed but I simply had no time for it. My hands moved over my face as I rubbed it in order to get the water out my face and proceeded to wash my hair and body.

I turned the water off and brushed my hair back with my fingers. The shower curtain got opened and I grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my waist. My hand met the foggy mirror as I wiped it clean. My eyes met my reflection shortly while I took my shaving foam and squirted some of it on my hand before applying it on my face.

My chin and cheeks got covered in the white foam. I took my razor and started shaving. I was right in the middle of shaving as the bell rang. A sigh escaped my lips as I quickly finished shaving, wiping the remaining foam off my skin.

I took my cologne and got some on before placing it aside again. I gave myself one final glance in the mirror, exiting the bathroom after words. My wallet, keys and phone got placed in my pockets before I opened the front door.

“Damn, what took you so long?!” My twin brother asked me with a soft chuckle in his voice. “I was still shaving.” “And that had to take that long? We said seven. And guess what time it is?” I rolled my eyes in slight annoyance before I closed the door behind me.

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, Sami. Did mom already say something about where we are going?” He shook his head in response as we made our way together down the stairs. “All I hope is that it won’t be some boring shit. Because else I’ll sleep my way through it.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #rami malek #bohrhap #mrrobot #thepacific #elliot alderson #ariana grande #glee #ptx #fictional characters #celebs #story #wattpad #love #romance #agegap

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anothers-trash-my-treasure · 4 years

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What Should I Write This Weekend?

I made a survey so y’all can tell me what you’d like to see next!

https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/927HDNW

Love y’all!

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good-thoughts-little-things-love · 5 years

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Wonderful Things #13

People commenting on fanfiction you've written.

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girlafraidinacoma · 5 years

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IN THE LAP OF THE GODS:

Chapter One - Freddie

Summary: What do you get when you mix a tight-knit art community, young, hot-blooded twenty-something university students and good old-fashioned British Rock & Roll? Probably the next best hope for art and music that generation has to offer. With her friends' band skyrocketing to fame, what exactly does a girl do when she suddenly finds herself sitting in the lap of the gods? The answer: do the only thing she can do, rise to the occasion of course!

Pairing: Gwilym Lee!Brian May x Original Female Character [chill guys, this WILL be a Bri fic...eventually].

Warnings: ummm mentions alcohol??? That’s it.

Words: 971

Author’s Note: Okay, so I haven’t written in a while and haven’t published on tumblr in years, so this is one HUGE shout out and also a thank you to my pal, @wombat-pop cos they really got my creative juices flowing.

Contains both elements from real life and the Bo Rhap universe, so imagine whoever you prefer whether they be the real thing or the Bo Rhap Boys--be free. **Someone please tell me who I can give credit to for the gif use and also maybe how since I’m not used to posting stuff through tumblr. HELP**.

Link to the Ao3 fic!

Chapter Playlist:

This Will Be Our Year - The Zombies

I Can’t Let Go - The Hollies

Ealing, 1969.

She first knew him as Fred Bulsara, a new face she had met during a small social thrown at Ealing Art College.

She was at a lively sort of gathering, just as expected in a room full of art students, drinks were being passed to and fro while the newest album by The Zombies was being played on the record player. The upbeat melody of a piano opened a new track as Rod Argent dulcetly crooned:

The warmth of your love

Is like the warmth of the sun

And this will be our year

Took a long time to come

For a quarter of an hour now she had been drinking an unknown concoction handed to her by one of the girls that greeted her when she arrived at the function room. It was tart but potent in its alcoholic glory, and she could only force herself to sip at the damn thing. Truly, it was a horrible excuse for punch.

It was then that he had sauntered up to her, cool as anything, taking the drink from her hand and placing it down on the ground and against the wall. “Oh, darling you shouldn’t drink that rubbish, I know the girl who mixed those and her taste buds must be dead or dying if she’s serving this monstrosity.” In his hand he had two dark bottles, one he handed to her and the other had begun to drink out of.

“Cider?” she asked.

“Strawberry.”

“Ooh, thank you. It’s good.” She commented after a cursory taste.

“And more importantly, stronger than you’d think,” her new friend said with a grin. “Now tell me, how come a pretty girl like you is all by her lonesome this Friday night?”

“It’s a mixer, isn’t it? The purpose is for lonely people like me to meet some new friends.” She felt a bit self-conscious, fiddling with a loose thread at the end of her long sleeve. Her companion considered her outfit for a moment and silently approved; she was in a white off-shoulder peasant blouse embroidered with flowers that she paired with high-waisted flares and tan boots. She wore several rings on her slim fingers and she twisted one or two of them almost unconsciously as they talked.

He chuckled, “And how’s that going for you, darling?”

“Woefully. Until now,” she admitted, pushing her chocolate hair away from her face, “Wyn Clemens.” she said holding out her right hand.

“Fred Bulsara,” he introduced himself, “but everyone calls me Freddie since they can’t pronounce my last name for shite!” Chuckling, he shook her hand and took another swig from his drink.

Fred had an exotic look about him, all glossy black hair, gleeful almond eyes, and large prominent teeth that completed that million-watt smile of his. His laughter was infectious, and he had a way of speaking that was vulnerable and disarming, and entirely captivating all the while. He was lovely, and Wyn was soon eager to get to know him.

“Are you in first year as well, Freddie?”

“Oh no, darling. I’m sad to say I’ll be graduating this year and leaving you lot.” He said as he smoothed out the fabric of his dagger-collar shirt.

“Friday night and you’ve crashed a social for new students?”

“I would hardly call it crashing dear, I’m the most exciting person here.” He joked, “But I can’t deny that free booze is a great incentive.”

“Wise words.”

“So what are you then, painter, musician, writer, fashion designer?”

“I like to dabble in a couple of things, painting and drawing mostly, but I’ve been trying to get a handle of photography recently.”

“Any good?”

“Art is subjective,” she supplied coyly as if to remind him.

“Oh haven’t you heard?” Fred asked with fake surprise, “Modesty is totally overrated.”

“Of course, how could I forget!” Wyn exclaimed with equal false passion before breaking into a laugh.

“If you’ve got talent, I say flaunt it.”

“Tell me then, what does the great Freddie Bulsara get up to at Ealing?”

“I’m in graphic design. But music, music I think is my purpose. My purpose for being, my greatest love.”

Wyn sighed at the dreamy look in his eye, “A musician? Should have known, though I would have pegged you for a thespian.”

“Who, little old me on film? I don’t think anyone would be prepared for the magnitude of my handsomeness.”

“Yes, I’m surprised we’re not yet blinded by your radiance.”

“Oh, I do like you! You’re just my speed.” Fred said nodding appreciatively.

“Right, so music, what instruments do you play?”

“I was taught piano as a child you know, but I love to sing.”

“I’d love to hear you some time.”

“I’ll make sure that everyone and their mother would have heard me, or of me before I’m done!”

“Is that what you want? Fame, glory, your name in lights? Spelt correctly, of course. ”

“I want to give the people a voice darling, to all the little boys -- and girls -- who thought that they’d never be anyone or anything, ever. I want them to hear me and know that I’m singing for them and they’re singing through me.” He said rather earnestly, “And if I get famous and filthy stinking rich along the way, then it will be a happy consequence.”

There was a conviction in Freddie she saw just now, and she couldn’t help but marvel at him. For even in the dim tungsten light that bathed the party in an orange haze, Freddie seemed to shine on his own as if he were lit from within.

It was another moment before she remembered her train of thought. “Fred Bulsara,” she began, her voice just above a whisper, a profound smile on her face, “Freddie. It’s such a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

#god i haven't used these in a while #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody movie #queen #queen band #freddie mercury #brian may #roger taylor #john deacon #brian may x original character #smile era #queen fanfiction #bo rhap #gwilym lee #gwilym!brian #rami malek #rami!freddie

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crewman-penelope · 2 years

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From one botanist to another - Part 5

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Sleepdrunk

The fresh night air washed a bit of the fog out of your brain.

Just enough to focus on the area, but still... You felt your weak legs.

Your hand smoothed along Morningstar's shirt, and your fingers tangled in the fabric. Soft, warm.

His breath on your temple and a surprisingly firm grip around your waist, he guarded you down the steps.

In front of you, the garden.

You remembered. He spoke fondly of it. His father's garden. His garden. Pride and joy. His voice thick of sentiment.

Even at nighttime, the flowers and plants perfumed the air sweetly.

You blinked, walking the stairs down. Crunching gravel under your feet, a white steam leading to the half circle of a garden.

“Let us stroll along.” His voice low as warm, the hand at your middle fondly.

Brown and gray, bloom closed, grass bending to the breeze. A beehive, still and silent.

No busy bee's around. Not yet.

“We must - visit at daytime.” you spoke sloppily. Your tongue is lazy as your eyelids.

“Too much.” Your fingers tried to grip firmer, tugging at his shirt.

“Yes. You are right.” Morningstar hummed. “I apologize.”

For what?, you wonder.

The light? The drug?

Because, foggy or not, you did understand why you are so... Jelly.

“It wasn't necessary.”, you mumbled out. “Just let me see. I'm here to see it, right?”

Blinking quickly. A long inhale. His breath at your temple again. His lips brushing along the sensitive skin.

“Mh? Yes. You may be right.”, you heard Morningstar.

In soft gesture he leads you further, a now earthy path through the plants. There were more steps. Up. Down. Back in the moisture halls of his home.

“I need to sleep, Morningstar. Tomorrow -”

“Lyutsifer.”

“What?”

You need all your strength to look up. His face a hint upon yours - he is no large man - his eyes watching you closely. His pupils looked black in the light of the corridor. Unnervingly, he didn't blink while watching you.

“My name is Lyutsifer.”

“Lucifer?”, you asked lamely back.

He did not respond, but watched you further.

Did he wait for a tease? A mean joke? You were just irritated, as much as your tired brain allowed it.

Reaching up, you rest your fingertips on his jaw line. His scars like braille to read. His mouth stood up, so soft and warm, a contrary to his skin.

“Okay.”, you answered at last. “Okay”

After a moment of silent, he nodded and took your fingers from his face. Kissing your fingertips - a spontaneous gesure - he let your hand fallen.

“Bedtime for you.”

He switched. His whole demeanor changed.

Paternal, he held you as he walked through the corridors to a double door of metal.

You widen your eyes, in curiosity, as bewildered. A very comfortable and warm room appeared in front of your eyes. Your tunnel vision didn't show you all the furniture, but the inviting and cozy looking futon, all cushion and embroiled duvet.

If you could, you would have run to it.

The futon is hard, but the bedsheets are silken-soft.

No word were needed, you acted automatically.

With lame and heavy limbs, you manage to get out of your clothes, while his eager hands assist you.

The warmth of the room tired your brain even more - maybe the tea drug pushed forwards also - and soon you stretched out under the cover.

Silk is cool on one's skin, but this kind wrapped you in needed warmth. A cocoon for a tired botanist.

You felt asleep the moment your head touched the cushion. You don't even gathered, that Morningstar rest aside you. His dark eyes watching you.

Taglist: @lokis-tardis-companion19 @infinitegalahad @koshi-sama @daughterofthesilmaril @cynic-spirit @ladyl0wkey @elliotmalek @ellen-the-wise @villainworshiper

#safin sunday #rami malek #lyutsifer safin #lyutsifer safin x reader #lyutsifer safin x you #From one botanist to another #rami malek character fanfiction #rami malek characters #lyutsifer safin fanfiction #james bond fandom #Nttd fanfiction #No time to die #Safin #Lyutsifer Safin x oc

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angstyandromanticwriting · 1 year

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Lyutsifer Safin X Reader Cute prompt

“Don’t you remember what hugs feel like?” You asked Safin, who didn’t dare look up at you, awkwardly shifting on his feet.

“I think I forgot what human contact felt like,” Safin admitted, his voice quiet, as if he were ashamed or embarrassed at himself. You slowly approached him, wrapping your arms around him. Safin tensed for a few moments, before relaxing, hugging you back. “This feels nice,” he confessed. You then hesitantly pulled out of the hug, trying to place a small kiss on his lips, but he stopped you, stepping back. “You’re legally obligated to keep holding me, but I’m not ready for - that - yet,” he murmured, his voice hushed and shaking.

You sat back down on the chair and he sat opposite you, averting his gaze to the window. “So - Didn’t your family ever give you any sort of contact? Surely they’ve hugged you before,” you pried, though you felt bad for trying.

Safin wouldn’t meet your gaze, he was too afraid. “My family were never the touchy feely type,” Safin recalled. “I haven’t been hugged in years, until now,” he lifted his gaze to meet your’s. “Nobody has ever done that to me before, I’ve never felt anything like it. Can you do it again?” Safin asked and you nodded, pulling him into another hug, which he leaned into. “I just want to be held for a little while,” he confessed, feeling weak, but he didn’t care, not at this moment. “Do you mind if we stay like this for a little longer?” You shook your head, feeling as if you could stay wrapped in his warmth for a day. “I’ll always be in desperate need of your hugs, just to keep me sane. I never want to let go,” he spoke softly.

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed this prompt! ❤️

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himbohunnicutt · 5 years

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Per Ardua Ad Astra // G. Lee Chapter 1

A/N: This is just to satisfy my longing for Gwilym in RAF uniform. Crossposted to my wattpad - HannahHassall - and my AO3 - HannahPelham

Wing Commander Gwilym Lee walked into the village pub and sat down at one of the tables near the door. He and some of the other officers of his Squadron had a rare night off, and they were going to spend it getting as drunk as possible without getting an official reprimand. Gwilym knew his limits, of course. He’d joined the RAF at 18 and had learned his way around drinking in the force the hard way. Now, as the most senior officer out that night, he knew he had to be the responsible one. He was pulled from his daydreams by some of the younger officers sitting down at his table, drinks in hand. He thanked them, and took a sip from his pint. He had no idea which beer the boys had bought him, but he liked it. He looked over to the bar to see what beers they had on offer, and then his eyes met hers. He stopped breathing for a moment. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but it was more than that. She was smiling, laughing with her patrons, but she had sad eyes. Eyes that told him there was something more to her than just a pub landlady. He didn’t know how long they were there, eyes locked. It was her that pulled away first, startled from her daze by an irritated man trying to get served. It was a few more seconds before Gwilym was pulled from his.

“Just ask her out, sir” one of his junior officers said. Gwilym said nothing, he just gave the younger man a stern look.

She was on Gwilym’s mind for the rest of the night. As he sipped his pint, he could only think of her. He wondered what made her so sad, he wondered why she ran a pub in a small village, when she could probably have a better career. He wondered what was keeping her in such a small place, when she deserved the world. Maybe he could show her the world.

The other officers kept badgering him, egging him on, telling him he should just ask her out. It wasn’t that simple, of course. His career in the RAF was his life, and he knew that whoever he dated and eventually married would have to understand that. He would go wherever the force took him. Maybe she would understand, as far as he knew, that pub hadn’t changed hands in the nearly 20 years he’d been at the base on the outskirts of the village. He was sure he’d probably been in there before, seen her before, but this time was different for some reason. He knew he needed to talk to her before the night was over.

As last orders was called, Gwilym knew this was his final moment. Before he even knew what he was doing, he was walking towards the bar. He caught her eye and smiled.

“What can I get you, Wing Commander?” She asked, walking towards him. He was immediately impressed. She knew her RAF rank insignia.

“Your phone number” He found himself saying, with a smile. She grinned back and grabbed the pen that was in her hair and a napkin from the bar. She scribbled her number on it and gave it to him with a smile.

“I hope to see you again, Wing Commander…” she trailed off, realising she didn’t know his name.

“Lee. Gwilym Lee, Miss?” he asked.

“Margaret Coleman” She replied. He quickly rested his hand on hers, before he turned on his heel and walked out the door, grinning like an idiot.

The next morning, Margaret was woken by her phone vibrating on her bedside table. She picked it up to see a text from an unknown number:

‘Dinner tonight? Wg Cdr Lee x’

She smiled widely as she quickly fired off a reply.

‘If I can get someone to cover the pub, you’re on. Margaret x’

This made Gwilym smile very widely indeed, prompting some funny looks from the other officers in the mess. He couldn’t wait until that evening.

————

Margaret paced nervously up and down the bar as she waited for Gwilym to turn up. She couldn’t believe she’d have to let him down when she so desperately wanted to go for dinner with him. She hoped he’d turn up soon, otherwise she might wear a hole in the floor with her pacing. Just as she stopped and looked at the door, he walked through it, looking more attractive in his uniform than she’d ever seen a man look. Her heart fell when she saw his smile.

“Ready?” He asked as he reached the bar. She smiled weakly.

“Gwilym, I’m so sorry” She said quietly, feeling like she might cry.

“What?” He asked, suddenly worried he’d done something wrong.

“I…I… look, come upstairs and I’ll explain. It’s a long story” She replied, walking around the bar, and dragging him upstairs.

As they walked into the flat above the pub, Gwilym immediately knew. There were toys and schoolbags scattered about. She had children.

“You have children?” He asked as they sat down on the sofa.

“I do. 2 girls. I should have told you yesterday” Margaret replied as she fiddled with her skirt nervously.

“No, it’s okay. I get that it’s hard for you to tell someone you’re hopefully interested in as you’re worried you’ll scare them off” Gwilym said calmly, resting his hand on hers. She seemed to calm down a little at his touch, which made Gwilym’s heart soar.

“Something like that. I found some kids from the village to cover me at the pub, but I couldn’t find a babysitter for the girls” She explained. They sat there quietly for a few minutes, taking in their situation and working out what they were going to do next. It was Gwilym who broke the silence.

“Tell me about them”

“Who?” Margaret asked, daydreaming.

“The girls” Gwilym replied, looking at her with complete adoration in his eyes.

“Rose and Daisy. Look, I need to get back to the pub but if you hang around I’ll tell you all about them later. Is that ok?” Margaret asked nervously. Gwilym surprised her by pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“I’d like nothing more”

————

Margaret and Gwilym spent the evening in the pub, behind the bar. Margaret poured wine and took orders as Gwilym pulled pints. Every now and then, their eyes would meet and they would smile at each other. Gwilym hadn’t imagined, of course, that some of the other boys from his Squadron would be going to the pub that evening. He hadn’t noticed them until one came up for the bar to pay for their round.

“6 pints of bitter, sir” the young man said, smirking at his superior officer. Gwilym just rolled his eyes and served his subaltern. All the while, Margaret grinned at him from the other end of the bar.

Before they knew it, it was last orders, and they were closing up the pub. Margaret was aprehentious. She knew this meant she and Gwilym would be having their chat about the girls pretty soon, and she would reveal her past to him like she had to nobody else. As soon as the tables were wiped and the doors were locked, Margaret grabbed Gwilym’s hand and led him up the stairs to the flat, with them sitting exactly where they’d sat earlier. Gwilym looked at the photographs on the mantle. They were all of Margaret and her girls. No man in sight. Margaret saw him looking and took it as her opportunity.

“He’s dead” She said simply, handing him a mug of tea. Gwilym looked at her, confused.

“Who is?” Gwilym asked. He was fairly sure he knew what she was on about, but he wanted to be sure.

“The girls dad. My late husband, Alexander” Margaret clarified, gesturing for Gwilym to sit down next to her. He tentatively wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and breathed a sigh of relief when she leant her head on his shoulder. He noticed the photos on the arm of the sofa next to her.

“I’ve never told anybody what I’m about to tell you in so much detail, so forgive me if I falter” Margaret said. Gwilym nodded, and let her speak.

“Alexander and I married young. We were 21, and in love. We were still in love at the end, of course. I had the pub, and he helped me run it. My parents died when I was young, so it was just me and him. 8 years ago, little Rose came along and was the light of our life. We weren’t sure if we were able to have children. We’d been trying for years and years and we’d had years of nothing before Rose. Then, 8 months later, I got pregnant with Daisy. She was born 4 months before Alexander died. We were living down the road at the time. He was walking home from the pub when a drunk driver knocked him down. He was rushed to hospital and was on life support for a few days, but we knew there was no hope. A nurse looked after the girls whilst I made the decision. I sat and held his hand as he slipped away. I’d cried myself out by that point. I drove myself and the girls home, and didn’t move for hours. I allowed myself until the funeral to wallow in pity, but after that the pub was back open and we moved in here. It’s been us three ever since” Margaret said, quietly and steadily, voice never faltering. She handed Gwilym the photographs. Her wedding, when she was pregnant with the girls, the girls as babies. A photo of Alexander holding both of them.

“That’s the only photo I have of Alex with both of them” She said, peering over at it with a smile.

“You’re incredibly brave” Gwilym replied, matching her volume.

“I’ve made my peace with it. It’s time to move on” She said. They both knew what this meant, leaning in towards one another, before they were startled apart by a deafening rumble of thunder.

“3, 2, 1…” Margaret whispered, smirking in the direction of the girls bedroom. As if on cue, Rose and Daisy came running into the room, and made a beeline for their mother.

“Did the thunder scare you?” Margaret asked the little girls in her arms. They both nodded in reply. The girls then clocked Gwilym.

“Mummy, who’s that?” Rose asked, peering at him from behind the stuffed rabbit in her arms.

“That’s Mummy’s friend Gwilym. He works up on the air base” Margaret explained. Rose and Daisy looked at each other, and crawled into Gwilym’s arms. He was surprised for a moment, but soon wrapped his arms around the little girls in his lap. He smiled at Margaret, and she smiled back. Daisy extracted herself from Gwilym’s hold, but Rose stayed there, burying her face into his uniform as the thunder and lightening carried on outside. They stayed there until the weather subdued, and the girls fell back asleep. They carried them to bed, and tucked them in with a kiss on the forehead. Margaret watched from the doorway as Gwilym said goodnight to the girls. In such a short time, he’d become incredibly fond of them. He was incredibly fond of their mother, so it seemed only right.

The clock struck 3am, and Gwilym realised he should be making his way back to the base. He’d gotten permission from his commanding officer to be out as late as he wanted, explaining that he had a date and he didn’t know what was going to come of it, but he didn’t want to push his luck. He grabbed his uniform jacket and cap, and walked to the door.

“Margaret, thank you. I had a wonderful time” he said as he did up his jacket and put his cap back on his head.

“Sorry we didn’t go for dinner” she replied.

“This was much better. Thank you for letting me meet your daughters” Gwilym said, whispering the last part.

“I didn’t really have much choice” She laughed.

“But still, thank you”

Before either of them knew what they were doing, Gwilym’s lips were on Margaret’s. It was chaste, and quick, but perfect.

“Goodnight Wing Commander” She whispered, blushing.

“Goodnight Mrs Coleman” He replied, just the same.

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee x original female character #military au #fanfiction #RAF #rami malek #ben hardy #joe mazzello #bohemian rhapsody movie #fluff

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Note

Could you maybe do #7 from the smut list with Ahkmen plz :3

7. coming untouched and/or early

Have y’all ever seen 40 Days and 40 Nights? If so, this is *sort of* a play on the flower scene 😉

* * * * *

Ahkmenrah loved to be touched; it didn’t matter if you were surrounded by a sea of (wax) people or completely alone, he would do anything to evoke your touch.

Nor was he particular about how he was touched.

He smiled when you were walking through the halls of the museum and you linked your pinky with his, giving it a playful tug. He sighed when you sat in his lap and lifted his crown from his head, running your fingers through his coarse curls. He moaned when he was making love to you and your fingers dug into his back, scratching hard enough to leave marks for the duration of the night.

So, on one perfect summer evening, you led Ahk up to the roof of the museum, laughing as you refused to tell him just what you were up to despite his pestering, which was now bordering on petulant insistence. Only when you wound your way closer to the center of the roof was he surprised into ceasing his questions.

Mouth slackened and eyes wide, Ahkmenrah’s face emanated a stunned happiness as he took in the strands of fairy lights, some twinkling and some providing steady balls of warm, white light, and the pile of motely mixed pillows and blankets, hues of blues, purples, greens and even some orange and yellow.

The sounds of the city groaned around you, but they felt distant in this little nook, and above you, the sky was a cloudless, purple-black bruise, and for a moment, you thought of all the stars hidden away, much like Ahkmenrah and his friends.

With a shake of your head, you turned your attention from the sky to Ahk and gesturing to your surprise, you stated, “Thought we deserved a little alone time.”

“This is … thank you,” Ahkmenrah said with such sincerity you couldn’t help but to kiss him, your hands cupping his face as his arms wrapped around your waist.

“Don’t thank me yet. Maybe I only brought you up here to play UNO?”

Ahk’s mouth quirked up in a crooked grin.

“Delightful! Let us begin posthaste,” he proclaimed as his robes swirled when he plopped onto the pillows, immediately stretching out on his side like a spoiled prince awaiting his evening’s entertainment.

His mouth never wavered from its smartass smile, nor did his eyes lose their playful sparkle.

“Why are you always such a shit? Is it the former-king thing? Or were you born this way?”

Scrunching up his face in mock-thought, Ahk tightened both lips between his teeth before releasing them with a pop as he answered, “I am . . . what I am. Wholly worthy of worship since my conception.”

“Such a shit,” you said with a giggle as you pounced on him, knocking him onto his back as he laughed.

“Are you preparing to worship me? Because I must say that this is not at all how—”

“Shut up,” you mumbled as you sucked his bottom lip between your teeth, cutting off his retort with a heated kiss.

You often wondered if his mouth was made just for you—if somehow, the universe knew to concoct this whole fucked up situation of arranging for you to fall in love with a 4,000-year-old regenerated mummy just so you knew what it was like to be really kissed---kissed so well that you forgave him of the time you were losing, kissed so well that his happiness now seemed woven with yours, and kissed so well that nothing, nothing could ever be bad as long as you were together.

With a sigh, you released his mouth and pulled away, knowing that if you didn’t close this kiss now, your experiment would be abandoned in favor of fucking the night away under the hidden-stars . . . but you wanted more than that this time.

You swiped at the excess saliva with your forefinger and thumb as you began, “I want to do something different tonight.”

Ahkmenrah sat back, his hands coming to rest under his head as he watched you with curiosity.

“Oh?”

Leaning forward to trace the line of his jaw, you continued, “I know how much you like to be touched, and I thought, what would it be like to just touch you without expectation. How long would it take for you to need me to . . . to--” you faltered as you glanced away from his gaze.

You looked back at him and began again. “How much touching can you take before it’s too much? That’s what I want to know.”

Ahkmenrah regarded you with interest, his intense eyes fully open, colored like the middle of the Atlantic Ocean in this soft lighting.

“Too … much? I am intrigued. You know I trust you, implicitly, my love.”

“So, it sounds like fun?”

Ahk looked at you like you were crazy. “Of course!”

“All right. But there’s one more thing,” you said as you reached into the back pocket of your shorts.

Ahkmenrah wetted his lips as he took in the black blindfold now dangling from your index finger.

“Okay?” you questioned.

He bit his lip and nodded, shifting his weight underneath you, reminding you that you needed him to stand up so you could undress him.

He took your proffered hands and stood, watching as you began to remove his clothes. Once lovemaking began, Ahkmenrah treated it with meaning; he wasn’t one for a stolen fuck, insisting that it took time to achieve true pleasure, something he had certainly convinced you of.

Undressing was ceremonial for him; he loved the way your unskilled fingers moved over his ancient fastenings, and he smiled at the concentration that often furrowed your brow as you removed each piece of his garb with care. It made him feel important, like he had once felt when he had mattered to a nation, not just to a museum.

Ahkmenrah stood patiently, his skin colored a deep, liquid-amber in the fairy lights, as you looped the blindfold over his eyes. The warmth of the summer night kept him from shivering as a breeze ruffled his hair and you studied his face to make sure he couldn’t see anything.

You guided him onto his knees and asked him to lay on his stomach first. Settling onto the soft pile of blankets and pillows, Ahk gathered his arms under his head and maneuvered one of the pillows to rest under his cheek. The muscles in his back flexed and smoothed as he moved, and a warmth settled in your abdomen as you thought about kissing across his sun-spotted shoulders, remembering the way those same muscles twitched under your tongue.

Not yet, you chastised as you positioned yourself on your knees beside him.

Reaching into your bag, you produced a feather. After much thought, you had decided on a peacock plume, the vain bird perfectly representing your vain king. You ran it teasingly along your own cheek, eyes closing at its softness and the way the feather spread out, caressing your skin like a thousand soft puffs of air.

Ahk shifted, spreading his legs farther apart as he waited, his cock probably growing more interested in your game the longer you delayed in touching him.

After he shifted for the third time, his ass cheeks flexing impatiently, you reached out to run the feather down his spine.

“Oh,” he sighed. “What is that?”

With a huff, you warned, “This isn’t going to be much fun if you play twenty questions.”

“Answer me that one question and I will not utter another word without your permission.”

“Promise?”

“I swear to Amun-Ra.”

“It’s a feather—a peacock feather, to be precise. Because you’re my little peacock prince.”

“King—ouch!” Ahkmenrah yelped as you gave him a spank. “Okay, okay! Silence. I understand.”

You ran the feather teasingly over where you had smacked him and grinned as Ahk’s skin broke out in goosebumps.

Dragging the tuft up his spine, you began touching him around and across his shoulders, watching those muscles come to life. You twirled the colorful feather in circles, playing a game of connect-the-dots with his freckles before moving back down his spine and caressing each cheek of his ass by flattening the plume.

Unconsciously or not, Ahk’s legs spread a little bit farther apart, and you grinned as you dipped the feather between them, tickling his testicles so that he shivered and fought back a moan. You almost couldn’t wait to touch the front of him if this was how needy he already was. You pulled the feather from between his legs, then ran it up and over each rounded cheek of his bottom, before dipping between his legs again.

Ahkmenrah’s hips began to move as he pushed his cock against the blankets he was laying on, chasing a stronger touch to compliment your achingly soft one.

You moved beside his ear to whisper, “Now, now—that’s not part of the game.”

He groaned in response, pouting so prettily that you almost kissed him. Almost.

Sitting back, you moved the feather down his leg that was closest to you. You ran over the arch of his foot and he twitched as he fought against a giggle.

You repeated the pattern on his other leg and once again tickled his arches until he laughed, a funny little choked cry as he promised he didn’t mean to make any noise.

“Maybe it’s time to roll over then?” you suggested.

Ahk rolled over so quickly that you had to stifle a laugh at his eagerness. It was clear why as your eyes ran over the state of his arousal—his cock was flushed red, and looked to be achingly hard, and a smear of sticky precum had left a trail across his belly.

Ahkmenrah’s arms laid flat out at his sides, resting on the blankets and his head turned in your direction, as if he were imagining looking at you.

He was so beautiful in this moment, aroused and submissive, barely able to wait for the next teasing, light touch, that it took your breath away.

Picking up where you left off, you started at his feet, running the feather between each of his toes before lightly grazing the tops of his feet. You teased his legs, swirling the feather at his kneecaps, and climbing higher and higher with the plume until you could see Ahk’s fingers grasping at the blanket, anticipating a touch of his cock.

Instead, you ran the feather over the juncture of his thigh, ticking one hip bone then the other as he let out the ragged breath he had been holding.

Your grin was smug, and even though he couldn’t see you, you were sure he felt your amusement considering the way his brow creased as he looked in your direction.

Taking your time, you traced the lithe muscles of his abdomen and touched around his belly button before moving over his chest, teasing both of his dark nipples into peaks.

His arms broke into gooseflesh as you ran the feather over the inside of his bicep and the crook of his elbow before down and between each of his fingers, mirroring your earlier pattern as you touched his toes. Moving closer to reach his other arm, Ahk’s cock twitched.

As you brought the feather up his arm, your trajectory continued upward to what you considered to be Ahk’s best feature, a feature you believed was gifted to him by the gods because there was no other explanation for the perfect symmetry of his Egyptian face.

You slowly trailed the feather up his neck and under his jaw, watching the way the soft edges caught just a tiny bit in the rough skin where Ahkmenrah would never actually grow a beard.

Along and up his jaw, you petted his cheeks with the flat of the tuft and he smiled, a twitching of his lips that invited you to run the feather over them, dipping slightly in between as he sighed. Continuing downward, you traced over his neck, his chest, and his abdomen, and when you ran the feather casually over the tip of his cock, he whimpered.

Watching the twists of his face and listening to his pathetic mewling, you tortured him, up and down his hard dick as the feather began to clump together on one of its edges as it gathered a drop of precum.

Ahkmenrah’s voice broke your concentration when he hoarsely begged, “Y/N. Please. Anything—anything! Your mouth. Your hand. Your body, oh the gods, please give me something more than that fucking instrument of agony.”

The veins in his arms stood out as he clutched at the blankets, trying not to ruin the game but desperate to come. He had been so good, quiet and receptive, and watching him undulate under the ministration of your instrument of agony had you so aroused that you were also eager to end the game and chase your own pleasure.

You put the feather aside and grasped the base of Ahk’s cock and gave him a light stroke, your hand twisting just a fraction as you moved over his tip and Ahkmenrah startled you both as he came with a strangled cry, cum shooting over his abdomen to his chest and splashing at the base of his neck in thick, white dollops.

You blinked in shock and continued to pump him through his orgasm until he pushed your hand away as he lay panting, flushed and trembling, from the force of his climax.

Your face still expressing your shock, you reached up to remove the blindfold only to be greeted by a similar expression on Ahk’s face, and for the first time you could recall, he looked away from you, mortified.

“Never, have I ever . . . Min, forgive me,” Ahkmenrah babbled as he swallowed and stared up at the sky, his cheeks clearly colored with a blush that had nothing to do with his orgasm.

“That was amazing,” you breathed, drawing his attention back to you. “Do you think it would work on me?”

Ahkmenrah’s embarrassment quickly gave way to a wide grin that built to a laugh, and as you continued to look at him in a state of shocked satisfaction, he sat up and pushed you onto your back before you could blink.

“We are absolutely going to find out, my love,” Ahk promised as his cooling cum seeped into your shirt while he pressed into you, kissing you as his fingers groped for the blindfold.

#Ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x reader #gender neutral #natm ahkmenrah #Ahkmenrah smut #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah fanfiction #rami malek fanfiction #SMUT

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