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doumadono · 2 months

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Warnings: smut w/o plot, fem!Reader, metal dick, oral (f & m receiving)

Synopsis: after a tough mission, you and Boothill have a drink in his room. Little do you know, this drink will lead you to uncovering all of his secrets

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Boothill's cybernetic body is large and imposing, and you can't help but feel small and fragile in his presence. But despite his intimidating appearance, he has a certain charm that you find irresistible.

That night, as you're sharing a drink in Boothill's quarters after a tough mission, you can't help but stare at his metal-plated chest and powerful arms more than you ever allowed yourself to before.

Boothill notices your gaze and smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I see you're checkin' me out, honey," he says, his voice deep and gravelly. "Would ya like to see more?"

You nod, your heart racing with excitement as you set your drink aside. You can't help but stare, your mouth slightly agape.

"You're pretty much obsessed with me, ain't ya?" Boothill chuckles and gets up from his seat, setting his glass down. He saunters towards you with a mischievous grin on his face. He knows exactly what he's doing as he slowly begins to unbuckle his thick leather belt.

His metallic fingers clink against the cold steel of the buckle, sending shivers down your spine as you bite your lower lip, sucking it in your mouth. With a flick of his wrist, the belt comes undone, and Boothill lets it drop to the floor with a thud. His pants are oh so tight, revealing the tantalizing curve of his metal pelvis. He takes his time, savoring the anticipation in your eyes as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his tight material pants. Inch by inch, he reveals the smooth, polished metal of his metallic hips. The muscles in his thighs ripple and flex with the movement, causing the intricate circuitry beneath his metallic skin to gleam in the dim light. The metallic dick springs up free. It has a polished steel surface. The shaft is smooth and thick, made of titanium, and there's a line of circuits running along the underside, imitating the prominent vein that would be present on a human penis. The mushroom-shaped head is plump. Boothill's testicles, too, are a marvel to behold. Made of the same sleek titanium as the rest of his manhood, they hang heavy and full. He steps out of his pants, his metal dick bobbing with each movement. Then Boothill chuckles, a deep rumble that seems to emanate from the very core of his being. "Like what ya see, honey?” he asks, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine.

You can't help but reach out to touch his testicles. "Gosh," you gasp.

"I take it for yes," he says, his voice full of confidence.

You nod again, unable to speak.

He takes your hand and places it on his cock, encouraging you to touch him.

You wrap your fingers around his metallic shaft, feeling its coldness and hardness.

Boothill lets out a low moan, his hips thrusting forward as you begin to stroke him. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he says, his voice strained with pleasure. "I've been dreamin' of buryin' my cock deep inside your tiny cunt, makin' ya scream my name as I fill you with my seed."

Your heart races at the thought of Boothill's cock inside you. You're already wet with anticipation, your pussy aching to be filled.

Boothill must sense your desire because he suddenly picks you up and carries you to his little cot. He lays you down gently and begins to kiss you, his narrow lips hot and demanding.

You respond eagerly, your tongue exploring his mouth and sharp teeth as you taste the whiskey on his breath.

Boothill's metallic hand reaches out, caressing your cheek. "Ever been with a cyborg before?" he asks simply after making sure to leave a hickey on the side of your neck.

You shake your head, your heart pounding in your chest. "No, I haven't…"

Boothill's grin is wide and wild. "Well, then, darlin', it's about time you did." He pulls you closer, his lips crashing down on yours yet again. His tongue explores your mouth, tasting and teasing.

You can feel the coolness of his metal body against yours, and you moan into the kiss.

Meantime, Boothill's hands roam over your body, his touch setting you on fire. He cups your breasts with one strong palm, his fingers tweaking your nipples through your bra until they're hard and sensitive. Boothill's other hand slips down, directly inside your pants. His cold, metallic fingers find your clit, and he starts to rub slow circles around it through your panties, grinning as he feels the damp spot in the middle of the fabric. "Naughty."

You gasp, your hips bucking against his hand.

With a quick movement, he rips your shirt and bra, and opens your trousers, swiftly pulling them down, tugging them off your legs. He reaches your breasts and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently with his sharp, shark-like teeth.

You cry out, your back arching as he continues to pleasure you.

His hand travels down your body, his fingers finding your wet pussy. He strokes your clit, causing you to gasp with pleasure. "You're so wet for me," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. "I can't wait to taste you, and to feel you wrapped around my cock." He drops to his knees in front of the cot, pulling you to the edge. He spreads your legs wide, exposing your pussy to him. His tongue darts out, licking your clit.

"Oh, fuck," you moan, your hands going to his two-colour hair, holding him in place.

Boothill starts to lick and suck, his tongue delving deeper and deeper into your slick wetness. He eats your cunny out in earnest, flicking his tongue against your clitoris in a stuttering rhythm that gives you no time to catch your breath. From time to time, he makes sure to stick his tongue into your warm entrance, eagerly drinking all of juices that are dribbling out of you. Sometimes he gives kitten-like licks, while other times he licks in a single stripe, starting from your entrance, through your slit, and directly to your clitoris; his tongue flexing.

Soon, a cold, metallic finger prods your entrance too, quickly joined by a second as it slides in. The cyborg grinds the heel of his hand against your swollen clit as he works his fingers in and out of you.

"Don't stop," you beg, your hips moving in sync with his fingers.

And Boothill doesn't stop. He keeps going, his other hand slapping your clitoris lightly. He attached his mouth to the swollen bud yet again, sucking hardly. And then, with one final lick, you come, your moans filling the air as your runny juices cover his chin after you grind your pussy against his face a few times.

Eagerly and quickly, you drop to your knees, the wooden floorboards digging into your skin. You lick your lips, savoring the anticipation, and then lean in, pressing your mouth to his iron cock.

Boothill's fingers tangle in your hair as you begin to work the metal, your tongue gliding along its length. The taste is foreign, yet enticing, and you find yourself growing more and more aroused with each passing moment. Your own desire is pooling between your legs and thick juices are dribbling down your thighs as you suck the metallic dick.

The sounds of your moans and the wet slurping of your mouth on the iron fills the room.

You continue to lick and tease the plump head of his iron dick, your tongue tracing the intricate design of the metal.

Boothill's breathing grows heavier, and you can sense his growing need for release. You open your mouth and take the head of his cock between your lips. You slide further down the shaft, your lips tight around the steel as you deepthroat him.

Boothill groans, his hips bucking involuntarily as you work your magic. "Fuck, honey, just like that, you're doin' such a good job down there."

Your hands roam his body, exploring the hard, cold contours of his chest and abs as you keep on sucking his cock, looking up at him with your best doe eyes.

With a loud groan, he yanks your head off his cock and forces you back on the cot. He continues to stroke your clit as he positions himself at your entrance, his cock nudging against your slick pussy lips. He pushes in, slowly at first, but then with more force.

You moan as you sense him filling you up to the brim, your pussy stretching painfully to accommodate his thick girth. "Oh, fuck!"

Boothill pauses, giving you time to adjust to his size. "Fuuuuck. You feel amazing," he says, his voice strained with pleasure. "So tight and hot, warmin' my dick up." He begins to move, his hips thrusting forward as he fucks you. Boothill starts to thrust harder, his hips slapping against yours.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You can feel another orgasm building up inside of you, and you know it's going to be huge.

Boothill's thrusts become more urgent, his cock hitting your G-spot with each stroke. The cyborg pounds into you so fast and deep you can hardly catch your breath.

Your eyes are glistening with unshed tears, your tits bounce with every thrust, and you’re still holding onto his strong forearms. The wet slap of Boothill's hips against your pussy, the obscene squelching from your dripping wet pussy as his cock pistons in and out of you make you arch your back and moan like a whore. Your pussy is clenching painfully around Boothill's cock as if trying to milk his cock right on the spot.

He must feel it too because he begins to thrust harder and faster, his balls slapping against your slit. "Come for me, sweetheart," he urges, his voice strained with pleasure. "I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

With a few more thrusts of his, you explode, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pleasure. The walls of your pussy clamp down on the cyborg's cock.

Boothill follows soon after, his cock twitching as he comes to his own orgasm inside of you, filling you with a thick seed. "Yee-haw! Fuuuuck, fuuuuuck! Yeees!" He gives a few last thrusts, pushing his cum deeper, fucking it into you so you’ll be dripping white for hours, and then he finally pulls out with a groan.

The slurping sound your cunt makes as his cock leaves your pussy is obscene, so is the cloudy trail of mixed white and clear fluid that connects your pussy and the mushroom-shaped tip of his metallic cock until he withdraws completely.

You lay there, panting and spent, covered in a cold sweat as Boothill lays down beside you, his strong arm draped over your waist. "That was amazing, honey," he says, his voice soft and satisfied as he place small kisses to your bare shoulder.

You nod, still unable to speak. You've never experienced anything like this before, and you know that you'll never forget it. "I think I fell in love with your metal rod," you chuckle quietly, your cheeks going beet red.

special tags: @shonen-brainrot @crystalwolfblog @hornydynamight @doumaslotus @bakugoscunny

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pandoraslxna · 3 months

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Neteyam x female human reader

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: explicit smut, masturbation, sex toys, Dom/sub, lingerie

⋆｡° ✮ Translations: paskalin = honey

"You want to come so bad, huh? Then make yourself come."

He‘s not even watching you, eyes fixed on the knife in one hand and the stone sharpening it in his other, as you sit there on the floor humiliating yourself in front of him.

Neteyam’s spread out on his seat, showing off his dominance like a slap in the face, legs parted wide to take up even more space. You let out a gasp, half overwhelmed, half just seeking his attention. He doesn't move.

Your head tips back, eyes fluttering shut as you press the silicon cock against your g-spot again, stretching your legs further upward and apart, the seams of your thigh highs cutting into your skin. You moan again, your hips working against your hand as you slide the dildo almost the whole way out before pressing back in slowly. You're teasing yourself on purpose, because you know he likes it when you do that.

You rock your whole body back on your balancing arm, opening yourself up even further, your toes curling, catching the silk fabric of your stockings between them, and you bite your lip, letting a whine escape your throat. It feels like you've been here for ages, fucking yourself on the floor while Neteyam just ignores you. You want him to look at you, you want him to slide down to you on his knees and rip the tight fabric from your legs with his teeth. You want his cock buried inside you instead of a plastic imitation. You want to wrap your arms around his shoulders and scream into his neck as he makes you come with deep, punishing power. But he doesn’t, and it’s driving you insane.

Willpower and focus have always been his strong suit, and he’s never been so determined before, as when he’s punishing you for touching yourself while he was gone.

Your hand speeds up, forcing the toy harder inside, a sharp cry forcing itself out at the images you're conjuring to torture yourself. You're sounding desperate now, and you don't care because you just need him to look at you, you need him to see you like this, to see what he's making you do to yourself. It's his fault, and its all for him. You open your eyes, watching him close, praying that he would at least glance at you, even just acknowledge you. Another gasp, a pant, a curse, anything to get him to look at you.

You switch, securing the toy down on the floor, moving yourself to sit up over it, the tip still inside you. Your stockings cut deeper into your thighs and you want nothing more than him to snap them against your skin, to play with them as he watches you close, to notice that you’re wearing them just for him, to see how fucking wet you are as you press your hips down onto the fake cock, wishing it would be his instead.

The toy pushes at a new angle, brushing your special spot with each long stroke. You’re so close, you’re vision is clouding and light is bursting behind your eyes. Your throat hurts from ragged breaths, your voice liquid and rattling. His name starts pouring from your mouth like a stream, mixed with curses and despair. Your eyes are wet, tears mixing with sweat as they spill down your face, your heart fit to detonate. You're staring at him, so fucking close, all he'd have to do is just...

Neteyams eyes finally flicker down. He sees you. Sees what he's done to you, the mess he's made you become for him.

Your heart stops, a strangled shout tearing your chest open as you feel yourself explode, still fucking yourself down on the toy inside you as you finally stare into his eyes. Your whole body is pulsing hard, your walls clenching down on the toy as you gush around it, painting the floor before you.

You keep going, still writing on the dildo, grinding yourself up and down, feeling your slick trickle down your thighs as you push yourself through the aftershocks. He keeps watching every tiny motion you make as you move slower and slower, body heavy and failing as you come down, a new high brightening in the tips of your fingers, glowing through you.

Your head feels fuzzy, room spinning around you a little, your hair sticking to your forehead, mouth still wet around small whiny moans.

You've barely slipped the toy from you when he's wrapping you up in a blanket, pulling you into his lap, arms holding you tight, pressing a firm kiss to your shoulder as you shiver, unbalanced and lit up like a light.

"Good girl", he then finally sighs into your ear, placing a kiss to your cheek. "You’ve done so well, paskalin. I‘m so proud of you for taking your punishment and I hope you’ve learned your lesson on not touching what is mine while I’m gone, hm?"

You're sure you look like a royal fucking mess right about now but he doesn't seem to care. His knife discarded to somewhere else, his own breathing now seems almost as laboured as yours as he cradles you, rocking you gently, while your eyes slowly come back into focus.

You snuggle in, still catching your breath as you rest your head against his chest, unable to speak for the moment though neither of you really mind. He rubs comfortingly at your arm, drawing absent circles, his lips pressing the top of your head while he whispers soft praises into your ear. You try to move a little, stretch your legs out, but its no use; you're utterly spent and completely boneless in his arms.

You smile. You know its what he wanted, that he's grateful. That he knows you love him. That he loves you back.

You fall asleep after a while, and he's still there when you wake up. He's still watching you, like he always will.

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mxomo · 1 year

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helping him train ♡︎ sakusa kiyoomi

Sakusa has found a way for you to spend some quality time together whilst he trains. c/w: lots of fingering, overstim, lil spank, "darling" a/n: brainrot 2k23!! enjoy~ (´ ∀ ` *)

Many volleyball enthusiasts around the country had, after many hours of studying and analysis, concluded that Sakusa Kiyoomi’s incredible success at spiking was in large part due to his weirdly strong and flexible wrists

Like many athletes, our Omi-kun understood the importance of training, conditioning, of practice. Despite his icy demeanour and aversion to other human beings, he was very dedicated to his craft and spent many hours making sure he was in top condition for his matches

Our ISTJ King of course has developed over the years a very precise routine to keep on top of his game, having tried various stretches and exercises throughout his career

“Is there a ritual that you like to follow before an important match, sir?” “What is your preferred warm-up routine?”

He can’t help but respond with a smirk cus ha ha ha-

“Mmmf- ngh- Omi! Omi, it’s too much, i-it’s too much, it’s-!”

“We have another ten minutes,” Kiyoomi drawled, running his thumb over your lip before shoving it into your gaping mouth. “And maybe another set after. There’s a big match in a couple of days, darling.”

You couldn’t stop the whine that tumbled from your mouth, clamping your lips around the invading digit as Kiyoomi’s other hand rammed unrelentingly and rhythmically into you, as he had been doing for the last 30 minutes.

“You said you were missing my company,” he pointed out flatly, nuzzling into your neck as you wrapped yourself around him, tugging gently at the roots of his curls. “Isn’t this a great compromise?”

You were quiet as you stared into the distance for a moment, a rumble of a chuckle in your chest as you considered his offer. “You horny little shit.”

Kiyoomi perches himself up on his elbows, catching your eye with his usual deadpan expression. A minute ticks by as you stare each other down. He tilts his head, prompting you to answer his original proposal, as he neglects to respond to your accusation. his eyes seem to say ‘and?’; eventually, you break and a full laugh escapes you.

“I don’t see really how this could be considered exercise for you,” you said dryly. As he opened his mouth to explain once more why exactly fingerblasting you every other day and before a match was conducive to his career and both of your overall health, you continued. “I will consent to a trial period of said training routine. You have one week.”

Being an incredibly serious matter, Kiyoomi would start a timer for each ‘set’. 20 minutes of various crafty finger and wrist movements, high speed and power directly and expertly into your g-spot

His left hand went first for 2 reasons: being marginally his weaker and less dominant hand, starting left in his opinion ‘eases you into it better’

(You thought this was bull because you’re sent to high heaven at the same speed no matter which hand he starts with)

His second reason being if he wants to go for a third set then his left is ‘trained’ more with a built in break time

“Get over my knee, we’re doing one more,” Kiyoomi urged, shifting you over slightly as you failed to move along to his command in your exhaustion. Your mouth was dry, you were breathless, your pussy felt wet and swollen and was leaving a small puddle wherever you sat as Kiyoomi ripped orgasm after orgasm out of you.

“Mmmf,” you mumbled, unable to focus as your legs trembled and your core clenched weakly at each aftershock that rolled through you. “O-oh!”

Kiyoomi slipped two fingers back into your overworked cunny again. Starting slow, he began thrusting into you purposefully with each targeted movement of the wrist, assaulting your g-spot much too intensely after what you’d been through that evening. Your vision burst white and your senses faded as another orgasm washed through you, a gasp catching in your throat, your mind scattering as Kiyoomi pinned your thrashing hips down to keep you in place.

“Great job, darling, but hold still,” he demanded, delivering a sharp smack on your backside. “I’ll be sure to give you credit when we win,” Kiyoomi smirked, glancing momentarily at the timer. “But you have another six minutes."

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gimmethatagustd · 1 year

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lost in a heartbeat | pjm

Keeping up with your fledgling boyfriend's new sexual appetite wasn't something you'd considered when you agreed to turn him.

↳ pairing: vampire!jimin x vampire(f)!reader

↳ wc/date: 2.8k | may 2023

↳ notes: this can be read as a standalone, but it's better if you read nectar and touch me after midnight. i hope you enjoy it! i love this couple so much. i struggle to let them go. full disclosure, i did not edit this at all khsdkfjs so uhhhh. good luck.

↳ masterlist | ao3 | join my taglist

↳ what was jai listening to? slow (ft. ciara) - jackson wang

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“My little vampy seems so needy,” Jimin speaks into the crook of your neck. He squeezes your hips and presses his face into your skin with a bit more force, the closeness of his body forcing you to step back until you are caught between him and the wall.

You feel his front teeth graze your shivering skin in a smirk as he teases you.

“Does she want daddy to help her?”

“Oh my god, Park Jimin, do not call yourself that.”

“Call myself what?”

He lifts his face from your neck long enough to stare at you with large, sparkling eyes partially obscured by his bangs. As much as you loved his pink hair, and the soft blonde it had faded into, Jimin’s naturally dark hair does something to you. The color brights out the gleam in his eyes.

Right now, you’re more focused on his tongue circling his lips - plump, perfect lips that fall into an O-shaped pout while his eyebrows furrow together. You narrow your eyes, but Jimin only grins. You know he isn’t innocent, and he knows you don’t have it in you to punish him for being bad.

And he does love to be bad.

“You know what,” you say with a loud huff. “And you’re not allowed to call me little vampy anymore.” Despite your harsh tone, you gather Jimin’s shirt into your fists and pull him against you.

“Oh really? You don’t like it?”

“You know I don’t.”

“I think you do.”

“Park Jimin.”

“So many rules…”

A bit of guilt nips at your heart, but Jimin’s mouth is wet against your collarbone, and his fingers lower to unbutton your jeans. You’re sure he didn’t mean anything by what he said, but you feel anxious anyway.

“I didn’t.”

You tilt your head slightly, confusion replacing the anxiety - if only for a moment.

“I didn’t mean anything by what I said,” he confirms, and his lips capture yours before you can scold him for reading your mind.

Jungkook had never been able to do that - read your mind. Sure, you and your ex-boyfriend could once sense each other’s emotions, and Jungkook even had hypnotic-like power over you. It’s not unusual, just the mental and emotional bond vampires form when they feed off each other.

The moment you sired Jimin, the bond with Jungkook was severed for good. This new sire bond with your boyfriend is so, so different, though.

For starters, he can read your mind.

That’s one of the rules - no reading your mind without your permission.

Jimin says it’s hard, though. Little whispers of your thoughts flit through his head, and he has trouble stopping them, especially when you’re upset.

Like now. With all the rules. You can’t help it. Being a new vampire means Jimin has to learn the rules of how to exist in the world in a new way. Even you’re trying to figure shit out for the first time; you’d been born a vampire. So all of this is new for you, too.

Your thoughts are distracted by the moan you instinctually growl from the back of your throat when Jimin slides his hand inside your underwear. You rest your face against his chest and continue to squeeze his shirt in your fists. His fingers are cold; of course, they are. You’ve yet to get used to this new body temperature, although he didn’t feel as cold to you as he will feel toward a human. Your cool temperatures seem to balance out well.

You gently press your lips against his skin to kiss and suck his collarbone. Your head falls back against the wall Jimin has you shoved against when you feel his knee spread your legs apart further so he can pump his fingers into you more forcefully. Even from the beginning, Jimin knew how to find the spot that would have you shaking in his hand.

“Fuck,” Jimin moans against your lips. He tries stealing a kiss, but he can’t bring himself to capture your lips with his when every ragged breath stumbles out of his mouth in a moan.

One particularly rough thrust against your front wall made you sob, and Jimin’s legs nearly gave out.

“Are you okay, baby?” You frown, grasping his sides to help hold him up.

There’s no surprise that he is affected by the moment; Jimin is the type to get turned on by pleasuring his partner. He can’t understand how some guys don’t get hard from touching or going down on their partners. The first time Jimin ate you out, he’d been convinced he could cum just from doing that.

Jimin has his eyes closed, bottom lip pulled between his teeth, making his fangs poke out. He takes a shaky breath before opening those deep, caramel-red eyes to you.

“I can feel it,” he croaks out. “I feel you… It goes straight to my fucking dick, fuck. It feels so good. It’s so much.”

“Ohh.”

It’s the sire bond. Somehow, stronger than Jungkook’s once was. No wonder Jimin can’t stand on his own if he’s feeling both his pleasure and yours.

Removing his hand from your pants, Jimin hooks his arms around your thighs to hoist you up. How many times has he carried you into his bedroom? Ever since the two of you had gotten back together, Jimin was shoving you onto his bed, or your bed, or the couch, or the floor, or the kitchen table, or or or or… Every night. And sometimes in the mornings. And sometimes multiple times during the day. It seemed Jimin was determined to make up for all the lost time.

This time is different, though.

This time, Jimin throws you onto his bed and rips your clothes off with the new strength he has yet to learn to control. The button on your jeans pops off and skids across the wood floors as Jimin rips your pants down.

You flinch when you hear fabric tear. Jimin’s sucking dark hickeys onto your neck, hickeys that are possible to see because you’ve recently fed.

You can’t see how your shredded shirt falls off of you. You just feel his nails drag down your sides until he reaches your underwear. Then, hooking his fingers in the waistband, Jimin rips the flimsy lace off you.

The little bitch. You’d braved Victoria’s Secret with Nikki by your side and bought all that stupid lingerie specifically for him. Shoved your ass into too-small panties and thongs and wore bras that pushed your tits too high up your chest, and for what? For him to rip it all to shreds without even stopping to admire it!

“Park Jimin!”

He lifts his head, and you stare into eyes so black it’s impossible to see his pupils. They’re glazed over and shiny as though they’re made of glass. His bangs fall against his forehead, getting in the way of his eyes.

“Yes, princess?” The deepness of his voice makes you shiver. There’s a gravelly edge to it that made him sound inhuman.

“Lingerie is expensive.”

Your boyfriend blinks a few times as though he’s struggling to break through the haze of lust that hits him doubly as hard.

“I’ll buy you more.”

At least you aren’t wearing a bra for him to destroy. Your underwear is gone forever, though. Ripped up with the rest of your clothes littering Jimin’s bedroom. There is little time to think about how much money he’d just destroyed before Jimin’s fangs are nipping at your chest, scattering small puncture wounds across your skin.

It’s good, so good, you find yourself on the verge of tears, chants of more, please, Jimin, more as cool touches brush down your arms, cold fingers press into the curve of your waist. Each puncture of fangs pumping searing venom into your veins.

Vampire blood is dead blood. It provides very little nutritional value, but the emotional bond it creates between a vampire and their sire is worth more than the need to satisfy any hunger.

More, so good, baby, just-just take.

Jimin’s hands quickly remove his clothes while his mouth stays occupied. He leans forward to suck on the dribbles of blood that drip down your tits. Each open-mouth kiss makes your body shiver uncontrollably the lower down your torso Jimin plants them. You moan when his tongue, wet with your blood, swirls around your nipple.

After Jungkook, you’d told yourself you’d never let another vampire drink from you again. The mental connection it caused between two vampires who fed off each other was too dangerous to risk creating with someone else. But you are Jimin’s sire. You slit your wrist to feed him what most humans considered a cursed life, but what Jimin craved more than anything in this world - more than pain and pleasure combined.

The two of you are mentally, emotionally, and physically linked - for the rest of your undead lives. It doesn’t matter if Jimin gives in to his instincts by tasting you, marking you up so everyone knows you are his.

You like it. You like letting him run rampant, the wildness of his hunger and the new power raging through his veins unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Born vampires don’t experience the feral stage of a turned fledgling.

“Ahh, fuck, Ji-” A moan cuts you off. You throw your head back, letting it hang while you attempt to hold yourself up on your elbows, even as Jimin tries to push you onto your back.

He settles between your legs, his fangs pressing into the deliciously soft skin of your inner thigh. This is the first time he will have sex as a vampire; you’re willing to excuse his animalistic behavior.

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can do this.” Jimin’s voice cracks, and his fingers tremble when he squeezes your thighs.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t… think I will last. It’s just so much.” He nips the skin of your other thigh in frustration after seeing the smug look on your face. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t, ahh, say anything.”

If you looked down, you’d see that your body is bloodied more than ever. Dark red, nearly black, streaks line your torso, some of the lines starting at your throat and trailing down to your thighs. The inside of your thighs are bruised, and the puncture wounds haven’t healed yet. They’re black holes littering your skin.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you can feel the blood pooling in your belly button. You feel lightheaded, but every touch of his body against yours makes your head explode with pleasure that rolls like liquid down your body.

It isn’t just that Jimin can feel you. You feel him, too.

So, when you feel the head of Jimin’s cock circle your clit, you nearly start crying.

“Jimin,” you sob, fisting the bed sheets so tightly that your inhuman strength causes you to rip holes in them.

“I know,” Jimin presses his face against the leg he’s propped over his shoulder. He’s gripping your other leg by the back of your thigh, squeezing it almost painfully so he can hold it up and open. “I know.”

The sweetness of his voice falls in stark contrast with the sting of his nails digging into your skin to hold you in place as he eases his cock into you.

Your head falls against the bed from the energy you exert as you try not to completely lose yourself in him. Despite dating Jimin for two years, you feel woefully unprepared for how he pounds into you. He relentlessly fucks into you hard enough to leave deep bruises all over your body after the initial ones have already healed from his venom.

“It’s so good, isn’t it. Shit.” Jimin’s dark bangs obscure his face when he tilts his head to look down where your bodies connect. He isn’t asking you because he wants to know. This is less of a question and more of an agreement because he knows how you feel. He feels how you feel. Each slippery glide of his cock against your walls, the heightened sensations vibrating through your body because of the aphrodisiac effects of his venom.

You barely register that you haven’t even bitten him, nor has he asked you to.

“Fuck.”

Jimin presses his hand against your abdomen, obsessed with the bulge his cock creates every time he thrusts into you. The pressure makes you squirm under his touch.

“You’re close.”

Again, he doesn’t ask. He knows.

You whimper a confirmation anyway.

“I can, ah, ah,” Angelic moans punctuate each thrust. He’s nearly at the point he’s nonverbal; all you can do is try not to rip holes into the mattress and arch your back. “Neck.”

“Please,” you manage to choke out, and he’s leaning forward, nearly breaking you in half to press his tongue against your neck. You flinch when you realize his tongue is warm as he flattens it to slowly press along your throat.

“Okay, okay, y-yes, I’m going…”

Jimin brings his fingers to your clit while simultaneously sinking his fangs into your neck again. The conflicting sensations are nearly too much for your body to handle. Your pussy constricts around Jimin’s cock as you scream your orgasm out of you. Jimin comes the moment you do, so overcome with the power of your simultaneous orgasms, he collapses with dead weight on your body. It hurts how he falls, but you’re barely clinging to consciousness when he does.

“Jimin.”

Your voice is just as weak as your body, and you feel yourself slowly letting go of whatever was holding your head above water.

When you wake up, you first notice the overwhelming scent of lavender. The t-shirt hanging off your shoulders is soft, and you snuggle back into the covers once you realize your body is clean. The bed sheets are, too, freshly washed, just like your hair and body. Two years ago, you would have been ashamed to pass out and leave someone else to deal with you - to clean, dress, and take care of you.

Now you smile with the knowledge that someone in the world treasures you despite the monster you could be. Fuck, someone who became the same monster you could be. For you and no other reason.

“Princess?”

“You know I fucking hate when you call me that.” The blunt response is said with a smile.

You open your eyes once more. The bright light filtering through the window’s blinds tells you you fell asleep late into the day.

Jimin presses a soft kiss to your forehead. He’s also dressed in comfy, clean clothes - a loose-fitting t-shirt and sweatpants. The ends of his hair are still wet from the shower he likely just took. It explains how overwhelming all the lavender is - lavender detergent, hair products, and lotion. Lavender is the smell of home now.

When you tilt your head up to look at him, you wince at the soreness in your neck.

“Sorry,” Jimin apologizes sheepishly. “I think I went a little too hard last night.”

You laugh as you press your hand against the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. You force your tongues into a fight for control, humming into his mouth as you taste the blood he must have just drank for lunch.

“You never asked me to bite you,” you mumble against his lips. He tries nipping at your bottom lip with his blunt teeth, playful and nothing more.

“It was nice to… be the other person doing it.” Jimin seems shy as he admits this; it’s not a feeling you’re used to seeing from him.

“Most sires don’t let their baby vamps bite them,” you muse.

“I’m not a baby,” Jimin whines. He pushes you over, pouncing onto you once your back hits the bed. “I just like it, okay? It makes me feel close to you.” He runs his nose along your jaw.

You get it, though. Even if it’s unwanted, there’s a power dynamic that goes into biting. It’s easy to get high off of, even when you’re not the one with the venom in your dead veins.

“We should try fangwarming.”

A deep rumble, almost like a growl, vibrates from Jimin’s throat. The power behind the sound makes you laugh.

“You’re so predictable, Park Jimin.”

Jimin presses his smile against your throat. “You love me anyway, though.”

It’s something you’ve told each other before, but hearing it still feels new and exciting. To know that it’s a love so potent you both were willing to change yourselves - in different but meaningful ways.

“I love you too. For eternity, even.” You wrap your arms around Jimin’s waist and pull him closer.

“For eternity.”

series masterlist

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#jimin x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #jimin fluff #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #liah #nectar

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strawbrrycuteblog · 2 months

Note

Hiiiiii,Just a quick ask.

Hybridjungwon!

kitten jungwon feels so needy during his heat cycle,and if you piss him off by the slightest he won't hesitate to get off teasing you for hours as he comes almost everywhere on your body even in you not letting you get off until the last 5 minutes before he falls asleep happily dripping naked with his own juices.

xx,I love your work and I don't see many writers who like hybrid enha so I'm grateful that you like it ,I'm not alone.xx ily <3

Feeling faint.

Pairings: hybrid!jungwon x human!reader

Warnings: mature story, jungwon calls reader slut, kinda filth?, cum play a little, messy, cussing, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) , reader annoying wonie, hard Dom jungwon ☺️ reader has pussy btw

A/n: This. Is. My. Favorite. Ask. So. Far.

jungwon had been sitting on the couch for an hour now, trying to distract himself from fucking the living shit out of you, watching many episodes of some show he didn’t every remember the name of all while you were next to him, pinching him softly but enough to piss him off, “y/n I’m not fucking joking, quit it.”

you only laughed at this, “well if I do then what am I gonna do? I’ll be bored.” you continued to pinch him then poke his cheeks, “you’re such a baby.”

His eyes narrowed as you toyed with him, his powerful hand reaching down to grab your wrist tightly before pulling it towards him, forcing you onto your lap. “Here,” you heard him say through gritted teeth, “is where you belong when you want to annoy me.” He began rubbing your hips roughly against his growing bulge, causing both of you to moan. As his excitement grew and you felt him pulsing against you, he leaned in to whisper into your ear, “I'll make sure you regret ever annoying me again. Would you like that?”

you let a moan slip but quickly thought of a bratty remark, “as if you could even make me come.”

Chuckling darkly, Jungwon eventually removed your clothing, leaving you practically naked, save for the lacy red thong you wore. He stared at you hungrily before standing up and removing his own clothes, revealing his impressive masculine form. "Watch your mouth, slut," he growled, bending over to pull off your underwear, throwing them aside roughly. With one final smirk, he sank down onto the couch, positioning you above him, his cock already throbbing against your entrance. "Try saying that to me now."

you tried to move so his cock head would go inside of your dripping heat, but he barely let you move. “wonie please..I’m sorry..”

"Apologies mean nothing right now, bloodslut," Jungwon murmured, his grip tightening around your waist as he pulled you closer, finally allowing his length to slide into you in one swift motion. You gasped at the sudden invasion, welcoming his girth inside you. "This is what happens when you annoy the wrong person," he reminded you, thrusting into you hard and fast, taking exactly what he wanted while dominating you.

The ecstasy and pain mixed within you only made you crave more, pushing back against him as much as you could, your nails digging into his chest. "Fuck!" you cried out, unable to hold back any longer.

“I’m not a bloodslut.” you remarked to defend yourself, the intrusion witching your warmth had you whole body twitching, sucking him in but he wasn’t gonna let you cum.

Jungwon's smirk remained as he slammed into you relentlessly, each thrust driving him deeper inside you. "Whatever you want to call yourself, you're mine when I claim you," he said, grasping your hips tighter to keep you in place. His other hand traveled up to tweak your sensitive nipples, knowing just how much that would irritate your body in the best way possible. Every harsh thrust of his pelvis against yours brought you closer to the edge, but he refused to let you fall over it yet. Your combined bodies sweat-soaked and tangled together created a beautiful sight as they moved in tandem, filling the room with wet, slapping sounds. "Goddamn, you're so fucking sexy when you scream my name."

“jungwon im gonna cum!” you screamed out, clenching around his member, every small vein rubbing inside of you just right.

Feeling your inner muscles tighten around him was the trigger Jungwon needed, sending him spiraling over the edge of release. With a strained groan, pounding into your womb and stretching you beautifully wide. Hearing and sensing you were about to cum, he pulled out, following him by cumming on your tummy, he didn’t even expect him to finish so fast but he knew he wasn’t done. Far from it.

you started to move before he pushed you down on the couch, “you didn’t think that was it did you?” he spoke hardly, “I’m gonna ruin you, maybe even make you cry.” he spoke again before he stucked his fingers back inside of you, scissoring them and rubbing your gummy walls until he curled his fingers and touched your g-spot, “jungwon im still sensitive!”

Despite your protests, jungwon couldn't help but revel in torturing your sensitive core. He moved his fingers in a circular pattern, driving you wild with heightened need once again. "Shut up, whore," he growled possessively before swiping his thumb across your clit, causing you to collapse further into the couch. Your body writhed beneath his skilled touch, every nerve ending shimmering with pleasure. He continued to torment you, having full control over your body as your moans filled the air. Finally, he couldn't resist any longer, plunging his fingers in deep and pumping them insistentely, making you see stars as you climaxed hard around them. Only then did he remove his fingers, leaving you spent and quivering on the couch, panting heavily. "And that was just round one," he whispered menacingly, running his hands lightly up and down your shaking legs.

“I can’t do more..” coming out of your mouth whilst looking at him, crawling from him before he grabbed your hips and pressed his body against you, “so we’re just disobeying me now?” His ears flickered “don’t think I won’t torture you all night.

And he did, for the next two hours he hand you upstairs, your hips jerking and pulling in different angles, you’re sure the sheets were soaked, you’d squirted so many times already.

“Jungwon I can’t give more..” you repeated like earlier, he only jerked off in front of your face, glazing it with the salty cum, lightly tapping it against your lips, “open.”

And you did, taking his length into your warm, welcoming mouth. Groans came from his lips, his hips pushing against your face, making your head press into the mattress.

You hallowed your cheeks, the invasion of his head in your sore throat brought tears to your eyes, gagging around him but not stopping, wanting to please him until the very end.

Jungwons body was sweaty and half covered in your juices, the other half being his own. His cum was splattered along your body, from you ankles to your knees, thighs, stomach. Anywhere he could jerk off on.

“Such a warm mouth baby..”

You couldn’t stop your self from grinding against nothing, wanting to cum so so bad knowing you probably wouldn’t get it.

You moved your hand and took a hold of hid balls, squeezing them which made him mewl, you didn’t understand how he wasn’t shooting blanks at this point, did his heat mean an endless supply of semen or something?

Cause that’s for sure what this fucking felt like.

His hips stuttered and his tail wrapped around your head, pushing you face until your nose met his hair which were trimmed but still there. “Ah! Y/n! Yes yes yes!!”

He pulled out, you stuck your tongue out, showing him you’d swallowed it and he smirked, “after all this..” he panted. “You deserve a reward don’t you think?”

You sat up, if you had a tail it would be wagging so much right now. But you didn’t know if you could handle another round, you’d probably be the one having blanks.

Jungwon took his sensitive dick in his hand again, pumping it a few times to get it hard as he hissed, it didn’t take much when he was in heat, he got hard even just smelling your pillow. He took the tip, aligning it with the warm hole he already wanted to ruin.

He plunged deep into you, gasps eliciting from both parties as he looked at you, your eyes were nearly closing, he realized you were about to faint on him, the pleasure being too much as you were both exceedingly over stimulated, “hey, open those pretty eyes for me baby.”

He took your chin between his thumb and index finger, hitting against your g-spot, his cock going over it again and again, you opened your eyes.

“That’s it, look at me yeah?”

You nodded, trying to not faint, high pitched whines drawing out of your throat, you squeaked as he sped up, you pulled him close and he tried to keep his dominant look up, but losing it while he saw how helpless you looked, he always loved how desperate you got to having an orgasm. He pulled almost all the way out before slapping back in and making you cum, your mouth agape, back arched, stopped breathing for a second as you seemed to be in a sub space.

He only collapsed on top of you, both covered in sweat and juices, his cum seeping out of whatever side it could escape from, he pulled the blanket over y’all as you’d finally passed out. Both weak and almost shaky. Eventually over the next few minutes you both fell asleep.

#enhypen #enha smut #enhypen drabbles #mwah <3 #jungwon enha #enhypen jungwon #jungwon enhypen #yang jungwon #jungwon #filthy thoughts #mature theme #mature story #strawbrrycuteblog #mwah mwah #ty for the ask <3

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k-n0-x · 3 months

Text

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Student President’s Secret

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Well, This is more of a spicier nsfw fic of Wriothesley x fem reader, of a quick hook up with Wriothesley and y/n as a belated Valentine’s Day gift from me. Sorry for the lateness, we’re about to have exams, but please take this as some food from me 😍😍😍

Note: Art not made by me! Credits: @_jqwe on twt

Enjoy~ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

🎴❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦🎴

As student body president, with excellent grades and smart demeanour, if anyone found out you were hooking up with school delinquent Wriothesley, your reputation would be tarnished. Though, as tough and troublemaking Wriothesley is, he is such a sweetheart to you. It’s pitch dark out, and you’re doing your homework in your dorm when there’s a soft knock on your door. You go and open it.

“Hey!” He stands in the door way.

“Hi,” you look out into the hallway and make sure no one is lurking in the shadows.

When you see that there is no imminent danger of getting caught, you close the door and sigh.

“You know you should be very careful! At least let me know when you’re gonna drop around! You’re so reckless sometimes” Y/n looks up at Wriothesley with a scowl.

Though you were slightly taller than the average female, you were like a troll compared to Wriothesley’s staggering frame.

“So what? Anyway, they took away my phone during class today” His voice is slightly deep and husky, which you would have payed attention to if you’d didn’t see something sticking out of his back pocket…

“YOU LIAR-” you take the phone out of his pocket. “If you’re gonna lie, atleast be slick about it,”

“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m just messing about,” He gives you a kiss and takes the phone gently from your hand. He turns to your desk, which has a lowly dimmed lamp, and your studying notes scattered on the desk.

“Whatcha studying”

“Human anatomy” You sigh. “It’s kinda boring though”

“Hm. Interesting…” Wriothesley stares you up and down, something in his trouble making mind brews. He is feeling a bit playful and sees you clearly need one way to destress. He nuzzles into your shoulder.

“Well, how about you relax for a moment?” His big rough hands gently move downwards to your cunt, moving his digits in a circular motion, tracing around it, causing you to wetten already

It was either you were sensitive in that way, or he just had this sexually heated power over you.

“Only of course,” He moves the placement of his hand in a more appropriate place,

“If you want,”

Despite the school delinquent, he really knows how to treat a lady well. You nod. You’ve been looking forward to having your legs broken because of Wriothesley for a while now.

He turns you around to face him and he pushes you up against the wall and messily kisses you. He hoists you up in his arms like a sack a feathers and your bodies melt together, following each other movements so synchronised, it could have been a performance at a theatre.

Which, in a way, it was.

The room gets steamy and the two of you were lost in each other, in a drunken high of euphoria. It wasn’t long until Wriothesley’s shaft starts to perk up and harden rock solid.

He tosses you on the bed and starts to grind his hard cock against your wet cunt seeping through your sweatpants, which causes you to moan, arching your back.

Wriothesley then proceeds to pull down your pants and his and he gently starts to tease your clit, rubbing his tip around the entrance, which entices you to let out little whimpers, practically begging for him to go deeper and rougher.

Which, he happily does.

Though, slowly he moves in and out of you at first, his speed progresses and he begins to slam his cock into your weeping hole, which causes you to moan in ecstasy, leaning your head back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Each slam causes your cunt to wrap itself around his dick even tighter, your hands in his black hair while you pull him close and kiss him.

Your bodies are intertwined in an intimate way, rocking back and forth in motion.

This stimulating act of love induces you to reach your climax

“Wrio, I’m about to-,”

The Delinquent shushes you. “It’s okay, let it all out~”

He still relentlessly abuses your pussy, which has already been leaking.

He pulls out, and for good measure teases your cunt with his fingers, drenching your bed with your own orgasm. You shiver with pleasure, with the all too familiar feeling pain in your legs.

It was sore, but it felt so good.

Wriothesley gives you a peck on the cheek.

“Now that I’ve been quite the bad boy, let me take care of you. What tea would you like?”

🎴❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦🎴

#wriothesely x reader #wriothesley #not safe fw #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #aftercare #school #valentines day #happy valentine's day #orgasim #finger my pussy

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withoutyouimsaskia · 2 months

Text

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

GIF: Originally posted by @simply---words

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dubious/non consent. Language. Kissing. Nudity. First time. AFAB + AMAB penetrative sex. Unprotected sex.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Hello there! How are you all doing? Thank you so much for sticking with me on this. I always hope I can get chapters out quickly and it always turns into 2+ weeks... Special thank you shout out to my IRL bestie @theviridianbunny for giving the chapter a once over ❤️Much love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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

Morpheus' eyes glint like onyx stones under firelight as he waits for you to yield. His breathing is as laboured as it was when you initially laid eyes on him, and with each exhale you are exposed more and more to the intoxicating scent that rolls off his alabaster skin.

One hand is braceleted around your wrist, thumb swiping back and forth over the veins there that jump frantically, the other steadies the solid appendage that nudges temptingly against your opening.

"I can see that you want this," he intonates proudly. "Your physical reactions inform me of all that I need to know."

Your attention darts down to the markers that are broadcasting your arousal: first to the hardened peaks of your nipples, and further down to blushing labia framing your swollen clit. Morpheus follows the same path with predatory meticulousness.

"Oh, yes, those reactions are delightfully obvious. Most of all here."

He drags the tip of his erection in a teasing circle around your entrance and smiles sadistically when you stiffen and whimper in response. He brushes his nose against yours, the playfulness of the gesture juxtaposed entirely by his next sentence.

"Your sweet enticing cunt, gushing as it prepares itself for entry."

If you could close your legs to shield yourself from further embarrassment you would, for his dirty words only add to the wetness that he has observed between them. It's now running onto the silk sheets, mingling with the pre-cum that drips from his poised cock.

Morpheus continues to speak, "But I would know from even more subtle signs: the shade of the flush on your chest, the curl of your toes, the arch of your back." He dips his head, breath feathering over the shell of your ear as he whispers, "You want penetration."

He is right. Of course he is.

The desire to be filled is powerful - a base instinct that is relentlessly chiselling away at your resolve. You swear you can hear a voice in your head chanting with every proverbial swing of the hammer:

Do it. Do it. Do it.

A conflicted whine pushes past the clench of your teeth.

Morpheus has fallen silent, his tongue tracing a scintillating path directly over your jugular, an action that makes you automatically twist to offer more of your neck to him. He doesn't oblige, instead he moves his head lazily and stares you down once more.

How was he so good at playing with you like this?

The question spends little time unanswered; the Maiden's words from the tail-end of your conversation with the Fates bounces to the forefront of your brain. "He has been made to be perfect for you."

It's the whole soulmates thing.

Speaking of the soul, to make matters worse, the ache in your chest is returning with ire. It appears that the touch of his skin is no longer enough to pacify the pain. A flash of recognition musters in your mind from the near-imperceptible sudden knit of Morpheus' brows, the tautness in his own chest; subdued cues that he shares this affliction.

You reach out with your free hand and spread your palm across his sternum, feeling the fierce shuddering there that matches yours.

His soul.

It is under the same stress as yours. He had said he could feel the sub-epidermal heat like you but had made no mention of this. Supernatural being or not, Morpheus is grappling with pain and it will simply not do.

Your eyes flick up, your decision made in the next heartbeat.

"I surrender."

Quicksilver flashes through those blackhole irises and with an exultant groan he sheathes himself within you.

You screw your eyes shut and cry out, amazed by how far he is able to push in before he meets resistance. The overstimulation you had been predicting is absent, as is the agony you feared would accompany it. It's just the involuntary constricting of your channel that you contend with, a metronome swinging between discomfort and enjoyment.

"Look at me," Morpheus commands in that velvet voice.

You comply, and when you do you see that his eyes are blue again. A pair of cerulean pools; tranquil, somewhere to shelter. If only you could relax enough to slip into those waters. There's so much tension in your jaw and balled fists, inside you.

"Breathe," he coaxes, guiding you with tenderness, a hand reaching hold yours to give it a grounding squeeze.

You inhale slowly and shakily, mouth forming a shape of surprise when the muscles slacken and allow Morpheus to sink those last few centimetres within you.

The agony inside your chest ceases and from the small change in Morpheus' posture, you intuit that his has too. Heat like a solar flare envelopes you head to toe and the weight of his lustful stare only adds to the pyre.

"Mmm, that's it," he praises huskily, putting a forearm flat on the bed next to your face. "You feel divine, Y/N."

You nod zealously, unable to concur in any other way as he has robbed you completely of sentence forming. Your walls flutter as you adjust to the stretch, the feeling of this beautiful being bottomed out inside you. Your soulmate, exactly where he needs to be.

Morpheus makes the first move; a languid roll of his hips that grazes every place inside you, and releases breathy moans from you both. Your grab onto him, the spot where neck meets shoulder, as your mind scrambles to process the pleasure. With this initial test completed, he studies your expression, looking for any indication of a wish to stop. He finds none. Only a pair of expectant eyes overflowing with desire for him to keep teaching you like he promised.

He begins to rock into you with lavish, sensual thrusts. Your cunt unfurls even further to ease his movements; you are a moonflower, blooming under the night sky that overlooks the chamber, under his celestial form.

Remembering how much he liked it before, you move your free hand to play with his hair, eliciting deep-seated shudders all down his spine. It is joyous to inspire another such visceral reflex and you feel it pass through into your own body at each point of contact.

If he is a sculptor, you are the clay yielding beneath the presses of his body, shaping you into something entirely new - a lover. Just when he has you in the desired form, he changes everything.

He slows to a stop, still tucked safely within your warmth and secures his hands around your calves to bring them around his slight waist. You're not sure how it's possible but the change in elevation makes him feel even thicker.

His eyes are becoming darker again, gaze centred steadfastly on your face as he once more restrains both your wrists against the midnight coloured sheets. The semiotics give an unmistakable clue to his plan.

He's going to fuck you like he said he wanted.

You brace as he drags his cock back, and then he delivers a bruising thrust, animalistic grunt sounding low in his throat as the jut of his hip bones imprint into your flesh. A measure of dark lust is shot into your bloodstream and immediately you yearn for more of this roughness.

"Please," you say breathlessly.

He indulges you with a barrage of hammering thrusts, moans tumbling from your lips with abandon as warmth settles in your skeleton. His own vocalisations of pleasure syncopate with the completion of each thrust. The sound takes residence in your brain, his touch in every cell. The wish he had to occupy you in entirety is being granted.

You only take your eyes off him for a handful of seconds to look at the place where your bodies are joined, where he is slamming into you, the obscene image of it.

It's like he is an open flame and you are being doused in 99% proof vodka; the fire under your skin is so intense that your moans transform into screams. Morpheus consumes them all with the sudden seal of his mouth over yours.

The smothering action unlocks something inside you. In your chest, where your soul resides, it is vibrating aggressively, much more than it has done in the course of the evening thus far.

Morpheus notices the surge in the shaking and pulls back from the kiss.

"We must be close," he muses.

You feel the orb writhe in retaliation to his statement and your whole body does the same involuntarily.

"Shhh," he says in baritone purrs, pausing in his movements to soothe you. "A little longer and then I will breach the last defence about your soul."

His tone is confident as he restarts the powerful pace he has set, "I will not fail you."

He is stormy waves against a sea wall, bringing with it both the promise of blissful inundation and the threat of drowning. Yet you wouldn't mind drowning in him. A deep-rooted impulse tells you it would be an honour to lose yourself to the King of Dreams and Nightmares.

Your conclusion translates to the contraction of your calf muscles as you pull Morpheus tighter against you, deepening the physical connection to him as well as the emotional; choosing to submit fully to this somewhat scary situation - the tying together of your souls.

Pulling him closer, it's not without cost. The extra exertion, the deeper angle he can now reach, with all the pleasure it brings, quickly takes its toll. You are becoming weaker, his determined expression growing blurry, the edges of your vision field greying and closing in. You can't tell if you're about to climax or pass out.

Morpheus, observant and empathic, interlaces his fingers with yours and grips them tightly, clearly intent on keeping you here, not drifting off into the dimension of unconsciousness. Your returning hold is just as strong, perhaps a tad on the side of overtly vehement, but if it is then he doesn't seem to care. He just keeps railing into you, the warning signs of an oncoming orgasm beginning to daintily pulse through your walls.

A long-fingered hand reaches between your bodies to hover over your clit. With the last of your energy reserves, you arch up into his fingers, determined to reach your high, instinct telling you that it will somehow aid Morpheus in his endeavours.

He grunts sinfully in approval at your enthusiasm and uses the pad of his index finger to stimulate you, a familiar instruction issued as your soul jolts sharply, shockwaves rocking your bones.

"Let go."

The way he says the words, coupled with the movements of his hand and cock brings on the most intense orgasm you have ever experienced.

Five, ten, fifteen, twenty seconds elapse where your muscles are clamping down, desiring to keep his still-moving length as deep inside as possible. You loudly say his name, pleasure devouring you whole as you look adoringly into Morpheus' indigo eyes, before you are devastated by a snapping sensation as he breaks your soul open.

You are splintered and for a measure of moments, the exposed edges of the shards threaten to turn your insides to ribbons. Your brace for lacerations is short-lived; his essence, like liquid lapis, pours in to bind the pieces of your soul. Melding with you on a metaphysical level. Waking you from the mortal life you had and greeting you with a new path.

While you have no basis for comparison, an errant thought occurs to you that what is transpiring between you and Morpheus is fulfilling something of unfathomable importance. Something that was borne far from this room, in both the measures of space and time. Primordial. Inexorable. This linking of your soul with his is the culmination of what the Fates have wanted for millennia.

And once your soul is content, your essence begins to reach out in return. Like tender shoots drawn towards solar light, your soul stretches past its boundary to embrace his.

It's the final trigger that allows Morpheus to find his own release. His mouth jumps in astonishment, eyes turning black, then silver, then blue; a broken groan echoing around the low-lit room as he buries his pulsating cock deep inside you and spills his seed into your cunt.

You keen from the warmth of it, and you swear the fast paced breaths he is taking sound like melodies carried on ocean breezes.

The stars above you have been joined by dancing swathes of green and purple - a depiction of the Aurora Borealis at its finest. It swells with each inhale that Morpheus takes, his state having a direct effect on the sky. The colours catch the high points of his face, glowing vibrantly on his cheekbones, nose bridge and cupid's bow.

You wonder if this is the most beautiful sight you will ever see. The perfect face of your ethereal soulmate, framed by celestial splendour, gazing at you with the same devotion that you are casting towards him. But then he smiles. A small, genuine smile that makes your heart soar despite its fatigue, and it's clear that there will never be anything that can compare.

Morpheus then lowers his head to your chest and presses his lips to your healed soul.

"You are complete," he declares.

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

Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines

Blinding: "Felt it in my fists, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids. Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs. No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone. No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden. No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love with the wrong world."

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cera-writes · 18 days

Note

Can you write a gambit fic please. Like I need it to be the most heartbreaking angst you can think of that leads to the most tender of sex scenes please? Like kiss hugs tears tender sex???? Please 😊😗 thank you ❤️❤️❤️❤️

"Come back to me."

pairing: Reader x Remy LeBeau "Gambit" tags: nsfw, angst, tender sex, kissing, sweet aftercare Prompt: Reader feels dejected and heartbroken after Gambit gets sent on mission that could very well end up killing him. Reader begs him not to go, but Remy knows he has to. Reader runs off to get some space but Remy ends up going after them, leading up to some serious confessions and sweet make up sex.

Thank you @littlekidsteve for requesting this! This one's for you!

"Wait! Mon ami, please!" Remy was reaching for you but you had ran passed him, dashing out into the pouring wet rain.

"How could you think this wouldn't hurt me?" You cried, letting the rain mix with the tears streaming down your face. You took one last look at the man that you loved endlessly, unrelentlessly even, before wiping furiously at the tears pouring down your cheeks. This had hurt you. It made your chest ache with sorrow and anger. You were pissed with him.

You felt as if your world had come crashing down. The rain couldn't have been more morose, mixing with your own tears, drowning you in sadness. A flash of lightning sparked in the distance, causing a deep roar of thunder, colliding with the heavy footsteps you left trailing far behind you.

You didn't care where your feet took you, only that you needed space and you needed to get far, far away. Xavier's Institute was becoming farther and farther from view the more you ran. You felt like your throat was constricting. It was as if you couldn't breathe. The very air in your lungs felt heavier with each breath and sob that escaped your lips as you left Remy standing alone in the courtyard of the mansion.

Of course you knew he'd have to be put in situations like this, but you were just a human with no special powers. He wasn't. But dammit if you didn't love him any less. That's what made this so unbelievably more painful. You never cared about the whispers or stares on the streets from ignorant people who disapproved of humans getting involved with mutants. Remy was your person. But this felt like an act of betrayal on his part.

You could make out the scenery before you just a bit through hazy eyes. The lake lay just before you in the clearing, rain droplets pattering down violently on the water's surface. Any other day, you and Remy would've come out here to get some alone time with each other but today wasn't just any other day.

You dropped to your knees on one of the huge rocks overlooking the lake. You proceeded to let out every emotion you'd bottled up into your hands and knees as you swayed back and forth, sheets of water encasing your clothes and soaking you to the bone. You were a mess of a human being right now, feeling as if the world was crashing down on you and in a way it was.

You let out an ear piercing scream over the lake, echoing through the onslaught of pouring precipitation. In the midst of your breakdown, you almost didn't hear the sound of footsteps violently rushing towards you against the wet ground in your direction.

You didn't have time to react before a pair of warm arms had engulfed you, pulling you into that familiar scent you'd come to know and love. You knew it as the scent of comfort that could only be Remy's.

"Dammit chere! Don't run off like that ever again!" Remy pleaded half angily, pressing so tightly against you that you could hear the erratic beating of his heart.

"I ran like hell to get to you," he uttered tearfully. "I-I can't leave things like this with you, mi amor."

You pushed him away, scornfully gazing into his eyes. "But you are! You're leaving first thing in the morning for some stupid mission that I may never see you return from again!"

He looked away, bitterly cursing himself for making you feel like this.

"You know Gambit ain't got no choice, chere. Have a little more faith in me, s'il te plaît..." he begged, desperately trying to get you to see reason.

"Remy, you don't know what it's like! I can't go with you on these fucking missions! I can't protect you. I'm powerless! I'm useless and I can't do a damn thing about it!"

Your eyes were red and swollen from crying so much. This wasn't just any mission. This wasn't some 'stop a burglar from stealing a purse' or 'rescuing some lady's cat from a tree' kind of mission they were going on.

No.

Gambit and the rest of the X-men were being sent to take down an army of sentinels from barging into the city and killing every mutant in sight. This had been planned for weeks ever since Cyclops caught wind of it happening. You knew what those giant robots were capable of and it terrified you.

"But what if you don't come back? what if the only way I have of finding out that you died would be on the news, Remy?! I just can't live with that! I can't!" you shook, sobbing as your face fell downcast, burying your hands in your face again. You hated crying in front of him, although this was probably the first time he'd ever witnessed you having a panic attack like this.

"Gambit won't go down without a fight, darlin'. They could cut me, bruise me, or even skin me alive but they'll never take you from me. You'll always have a spot right here mon ami." He gently took your hand in his and placed it over his own pounding heart.

"You are what keeps this ol' heart o' mine beatin'. I promise for as long as I breathe chere, I'll live for you, breathe for you. You can bet on that," he caressed your cheek with his other hand, moving some of your hair that had matted to your face. His words were honest, truthful. There was not a single hint of a doubt to his sincerity in those words.

You placed a hand over his, more tears blending in with the rain that kept steadily falling against your skin.

"You are beautiful, mon ange..." his lips found yours, kissing you with such carefulness and tenderness that you didn't know just how badly you craved with such ferocity in that moment.

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. The rain had caused the rock to be slippery, sending Remy down on top of you but it never broke the kiss between you both.

You whimpered into the kiss, not wanting to him part from you because if he did it felt as if you'd lose him forever and right now you just couldn't handle that revelation. No, not yet.

His hands caressed the damp skin under your wet white tee shirt. He pressed his fingertips hard against your flesh, surely leaving indentations but you didn't mind. He needed to feel you and make you feel alright and safe in that moment with him.

His lips trailed to your jaw, then the soft skin of your neck, before trailing sweet kisses against your heated skin. His stubble tickled your skin pleasantly as you bit gently down on your bottom lip, letting your eyes close and revelling in this moment with him. Oh gods, how were you going to send him off tomorrow?

Your arms were still bound tightly around his neck, hands kneading into his long wet hair and tugging gently, eliciting a small moan of pleasure from Remy. You knew he loved the feeling of your hands on him.

He stopped kissing you only for a moment to look you directly into your eyes. He needed you to hear these words.

"Let me have you right here, chere. I don't care that it's rainin' cats and dogs on us. I want to feel you and I know you want the same."

He didn't have to say another word before you pulled him into you again, bringing your lips to his in affirmation. You were both panting by the time you pulled away. He sat you both up for a moment, allowing himself to pull that sorry excuse of a shirt over your head in such neediness. You nipples had already been peeking through your soaked shirt, showing through the thin white cotton.

This did something to him in a feral way, but he knew he needed to hold back for your sake or he'd never be able to leave.

He hadn't been wearing a shirt when he'd found you. You were both clad in only your shorts now and Remy had the urge to pull yours off immediately.

He started leaving hot kisses up your thighs as lips dragged up your wet skin, taking his time with you. You moaned, needing him like never before.

"Mind if I take these off?" Remy looked up with a half lidded gaze.

You shook your head, urging him on. You lay bare beneath him, letting him massage your breasts, softly and tenderly as he kissed you like his life depended on it. You hadn't even noticed that he'd discarded the rest of his clothes while he was letting your tongues caress each other, just allowing the two of you to feel each other.

The rain was coming down much heavier now. Somehow, that only made the two of you cling closer to another.

"May I?" he asked permission huskily in your ear.

"Please," you shuddered.

He entered you slowly, easily. You let a soft moan escape your mouth before he muffled it with another precious kiss.

"Even hell couldn't keep me from coming back to you, mon ami. You're my everythin'." He whispered sweetly between thrusts. This wasn't hardcore sex where he'd usually have you screaming his name for the entire school to hear. He wanted this to last. He needed it to last for both your sakes.

"I need you to know somethin' chere."

He moaned, feeling your walls clenching around him as you enclosed your legs around his waist. You found yourself drowning in him now. Instead of drowning in your sorrows, you were drowning in his love for you. That real, sincere love that only movies were made of. You'd be damned if anything ever took this man away from you.

"I love you," you both said in unison. He laughed in disbelief before grinning into another sweet graze of your lips against his.

You could swear you saw his eyes brimming with tears as he made love to you. His thrusts picked up pace just a bit as your mouths were still lovingly attached. He was getting close and he could tell you were too just with how your body was reacting to his.

His eyebrows furrowed, panting as he felt intense pleasure closing in on him. You always felt amazing but for some reason you felt especially good around him right now. It was probably the onslaught of emotions that came pouring out of both of you moments before, but it made the situation ever so much sweeter.

"Come back to me Remy," you pleaded, eyes locked on his as he opened his eyes to lock with yours. You searched his eyes and he gave you nothing but the utmost sincerity back in them. Those beautiful unusual eyes of his were all it took to have you coming undone.

He was getting close by the way his hand gripped your waist, thrusting one last time as own sexual relief flooded through him.

Your legs squeezed even tighter around him, feeling him release intensely inside of you with a low groan.

The rain had started to let up until finally ceasing altogether as the two of you sat side by side by the lake.

"Care for a swim cherie?"

Remy held out a hand, leading you into the lake, the full moon just rising above the horizon encasing the hot evening in glittering stars. Not bothering to get dressed, you figured a skinny dip couldn't hurt seeing as the both of you wanted as much time together as possible.

"No amount of stars in the sky could measure up to your beauty," he held you from behind as moonlight cast a glow over the both of you.

You couldn't help but smile back at him before wrapping your arms over his as you kissed him passionately.

"I meant what I said. I love you Remy LeBeau."

"And I you, mon ami. I promise I'll come back to you. That's a promise and Gambit always makes good on his promises."

#gambit x reader #xmen #xmen97 #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 2 years

Text

hope. ~ morpheus x reader

summary: you don't expect to run into the lord of dreams in the middle of a rainstorm - and neither of you expect to fall for each other so quickly. II fluff & a little angst

requested: yes

a/n: my first morpheus fic, i hope you'll like it words: 4.1k warnings: none except that the readers name is "hope" in this story

I am a dire wolf. Prey-stalking, lethal hunter.

Hope could never be confined to a single being, a single existence. It was too vast of a concept, too abstract for mortals, too powerful for the ethereal – even for the Endless. And so it broke and its million fragments spread across universes, across worlds, and finally rested inside specimens of every creation.

In the Waking World, Hope – or rather the embodiment of it – had travelled on from one person to another for as long as the human race existed. When Death came to reap that human, a new baby was born with a smile so bright it could break down the highest walls and the most bitter hearts. And it just so happened that this time around, Hope found its place inside of you.

I am a hunter. Horse-mounted, wolf-stabbing.

You met him in the middle of the night – but not in the Dreaming. You were taking a walk, trying to calm yourself after a break up so monumental, you weren’t quite sure yet how you would ever recover from it. It was raining and you didn’t have an umbrella with you but frankly you didn’t care. You walked the streets with your head down, tears streaming down your face, hot and devastating. Music blasted in your eyes, the same music you had already listened to when that boy whose name you didn’t even remember stood you up in middle school. Well, some things stayed the same.

You didn’t hear and didn’t see him. You felt him instead when you ran face first into his chest.

“Shit!”, you cursed as you stumbled back, earplugs flying out of your ears, pulling your phone down with them. It crashed down onto the wet stones. You bent down and reached for them but someone was faster. When you lifted your head, his eyes met yours and for a second, time stopped.

You had never seen such eyes. They looked like you imagined the night sky would look without the pollution and light from the cities. Like an ocean after a storm, like a forgotten lake in a fairytale.

“Hope.”

I am a serpent. Horse-biting, poison-toothed.

His voice was deep and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Then you blinked. You stood up straight, hesitant, unsure if you should get more distance between yourself and him. “How do you know my name?”, you asked. He was a stranger to you, you were certain of that. You would have remembered a man like him – with his black coat and the dark hair, looking at you as if he could stare right into your soul.

He ignored your question. “You are not meant to cry.” And then something else happened – he raised his hand, crossed the distance between you two and … wiped away a tear with his thumb.

And to your surprise it didn’t scare you. Maybe your ex had just fucked so brutally with your head that you considered it okay to be touched in the face by a stranger who stood on a dimly lit street in the rain with no umbrella. But his touch felt … soothing. Like you could trust him. His fingers lingered on your cheek for another moment and suddenly you felt tired. You wanted to rest your head in his hand and close your eyes and … he lowered his arm and the feeling vanished.

What. The. Hell.

Now you definitely took a step back … and another one … and a another one. And before you knew it, you were running in full-speed in the opposite direction. You had listened to too many True Crime Podcasts to be able to stop and talk to a good-looking stranger in the middle of the night during a storm.

At home, you fell asleep as soon as your head touched the pillow. Normally, your nights were almost always dreamless but this time you found yourself in your favorite bookshop. It was empty. Well, almost empty. At the end of the room, leaning against a shelf, looking right at you, stood the stranger.

I am a bird of prey. Snake-devouring, talons-ripping.

The next day was hectic. So hectic that you almost forgot the dream, the stranger and most importantly: the break-up. It was only after you left the hospital and headed to your favorite café for a much needed break when you remembered all of it. Mainly because the café was right in front of the very same bookshop you dreamed of. You felt the familiar sting in your eyes. Tears were near – and all because your ex-boyfriend decided to sleep with his colleague. Asshole.

“May I sit here?” The voice was so familiar, you flinched.

There he was – standing right next to the table, in his long black coat as the autumn sun shone down on him.

“Are you stalking me?”

“Stalking?” He tilted his head, just a little. “I came to return something of yours.” He removed his hand from his pocket and carefully put your phone on the table. Your phone! You had almost forgotten about it.

“Thank you”, you mumbled.

The man remained quiet. He simply stood in front of the table as if he was still waiting for your answer. It was probably a bad idea to invite him to sit with you but … but it was the middle of the afternoon and lots of people were around you. He couldn’t murder you here, right?

God, these podcasts were really starting to get to you.

“Sit, please”, you finally said and he did just that. “How did you find me here? Do I know you?”

“I don’t believe we had the pleasure of meeting in this lifetime.” His voice was low, just like last night. And just like last night, it send shivers down your spine.

Still, you frowned at his words. “In this lifetime? Who talks like that? Isn’t it still a bit early to be drunk?”

A smile tugged on his lips and god, was he beautiful. Yesterday, you barely had the time to take all of him in but now he sat in front of you and you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. You didn’t quite comprehend what it was – there was something about him. It wasn’t his lean body, the perfect face or the messy hair that practically screamed at you to run your fingers through it. It was his aura. The way he carried himself, sat in front of you as if you were the one having an audience with a royal instead of him disturbing you during your break.

“Who made you cry?”, he asked, breaking the silence.

“How do you know it’s a who?”

“Mortals rarely cry like you did unless someone hurt them. Who dared to hurt you?”

Dared. The frown on your face got replaced by a lifted eyebrow. “You talk like you’re from a video game or something.”

No reply.

You sighed. “My boyfriend was the reason. Well, ex-boyfriend.” You paused. “He cheated on me.”

“I’m sorry.” Two simple words but for some reason you knew deep inside of you that he truly meant them. “You must have strong feelings for him.”

“I …” What was there to say? That for the first time you believed you actually had a future with a man? It was pathetic. There it was again – the sting in your eyes, the numb feeling in your stomach. You blinked, chasing away the oncoming tears. Not now, you thought. Later, in bed, maybe in a nightmare where no one could see you. “You didn’t answer my question. How did you know where to find me?”

The man leaned back, watching you. You could swear that in this light, the blue of his eyes seemed even more intense. “From your dreams.” He nodded towards the other side of the street where the small bookshop was.

You shifted in your chair. What? This didn’t make any sense. He didn’t make any sense. “Who are you?”

Now it was him who hesitated. “Morpheus,” he said then as if he was unsure of what his name truly was. “Call me Morpheus.”

I am a butcher bacterium. Warm-life destroying.

On that day, Morpheus sat with you for almost an hour. He seemed interested in you, asking you all sorts of questions about your life while dodging all those you directed at him. He seemed to be fascinated by the fact that you worked as a therapist, wanted to hear all about your reasonings for why you chose this job.

“I don’t know”, you had said and shrugged. “I guess, I always liked helping people with their problems. Showing them ways, reasons, to go on.”

He had mumbled something along the lines of this making perfect sense for this century. Ironically, nothing he said made any sense. Nothing helped you understand him more … and yet you didn’t mind.

You kept meeting in that café after work. Almost every day for weeks, you sat together and talked. Well, mostly you talked. He was more of a listener. He watched you, the spark of curiosity never leaving his eyes. Soon, you started to look forward to these meetings. Even sooner, your ex-boyfriend was forgotten. Instead you kept thinking about a certain man with the bluest eyes and the most gorgeous smile – even though he seldom showed it. In fact, you thought about him so much that he even started appearing in your dreams more and more.

You were falling for him, you realized one morning when you woke up, your heart still fluttering. You were falling for someone and still practically knew nothing about him.

I am a world. Space-floating, life-nurturing.

The leaves on the trees had changed colors and fallen to the ground. The nights grew longer, the days shorter, the temperature dropped and soon snow began to fall while the people put up their fairy lights and Christmas decorations.

After your meeting, Morpheus had offered to bring you home. This was a first. Together, you walked through the snow in comfortable silence and while you wore a warm scarf wrapped around your neck and gloves to protect your skin from the freezing cold, he seemed perfectly comfortable in the same coat he always wore. The snow landing softly on his shoulders stood in sharp contrast to the black fabric. You watched him from the corner of your eyes and saw how snowflakes tangled in his hair. Suddenly, you had to resist the urge to lift your hand and reach for his hair, for the snowflakes within it.

“What is on your mind, Hope?”

You still weren’t used to how your name rolled off his tongue.

You cleared your throat. “Nothing.”

He smiled – softly, barely visible, the way he always smiled as if he was scared to do so. “You are a terrible liar.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you quickly avert your gaze. For the past two weeks you had been meaning to ask him out. Not on another coffee date but a real date. But then again, does someone like Morpheus even go on dates? And shouldn’t you at least get to know his last name before you asked him?

“Tell me”, he said and this time, it sounded more like a demand. A lightly amused demand.

You stopped dead in your tracks at his words. He turned to you, curious again. Curious like he always was when it came to you. Now or never.

“Hope?” The demand was gone, left was a question.

“It’s not necessarily something I want to say”, you begin and take a step towards him. You raised your head to still be able to look him in the eyes. The two of you had never been this close to one another. It was electrifying. The feeling you always had in his presence began to creep up. Something about him felt … ancient. Terrifying. And yet, it didn’t stop you.

Morpheus watched you, every twitch of your muscles, every change in your expression, unmoving, hands still buried in his pockets. Now or never. You had to. Before he was able to say anything, you leaned forward ever so slight and … pressed your lips to his.

His lips were soft, just like you had imagined. They were soft and warm and after a second, they began to move against yours. Careful at first, cautious, a little bit confused, but with every passing second the kiss changed and suddenly you felt his hands on your hips. They burned through the fabric of your coat as he pulled you close against his own body. Electricity shot through your veins, through every cell of your being. Forgotten was the cold, the nervousness. You drowned in his kiss, in the way his lips claimed yours, demanding, wanting, needing.

When he let go of you, an eternity could have passed and you wouldn’t have noticed. Out of breath you stared at each other, his eyes an even darker shade of blue.

“I …”, he began but stopped. Morpheus was speechless? Well, that was another first today.

“Sorry, I had to do this first. Before I ask you on a date, y’know.” The words came out quickly.

“Date”, he repeated and blinked as if he had to process that word first. Your stomach plummeted to your feet. Shit. Did he not want to? After that kiss?

“I mean, it’s fine if you don’t want to, obviously, I just … we’ve seen each other so much lately I thought … I don’t know …”

He watched you stumble over your own words but this time there was no smile tugging on the corners of his lips. He was serious. More serious than usual. This couldn’t mean anything good, could it?

“Hope, there is something you need to know.”

I am a nova. All-exploding, planet-cremating.

You didn’t believe him at first. You were convinced, he was making fun of you but when the smile never came that would have told you it was all a joke, you believed that simply managed to fall for a mad man. Not a word Morpheus said made sense until he turned up in your dreams again and told you the same story. And then you woke up and he stood sat in the chair across the room.

Truth be told, you almost called the cops.

But after that, something changed. You eventually did believe him. He slowly began to talk. Dream was apparently one of his other names. Dream of the Endless. King of Dreams and Nightmares. God, this sounded insane. Yet he showed you it wasn’t. He took you to the Dreaming and showed you his palace. And in the Waking World, he even introduced you to Matthew – a crow. A talking crow.

And here you thought, you had simply met a nice men after the terrible end of the relationship. But no, you had to meet a god instead. Or something more than a god as he liked to remind you.

It took you a few weeks to adjust to this world. Morpheus gave you the space you needed and you were thankful for that. And then, finally, you grew closer again. But no kiss was shared, no date happened. Obviously – you didn’t think that a King even dated. And honestly, you were a little too intimated to ask again.

Something that never left your mind however, was why someone like him was interested in someone like you. A human. Not even a very special one, just a normal one. You asked him that once and he replied with one of his beautiful smiles and left you none the wiser.

I am a universe. All things encompassing, all life embracing.

Once every thousand years, Morpheus would meet someone who fundamentally made him … feel. Contrary to popular belief, he cared deeply about humanity and held a great interest in them. But sometimes he’d meet a human that especially sparked his interest.

Lucienne had once asked him how he chose those humans. He had been short of an answer. If he could truly choose them, would he have chosen a random crying woman who bumped into him on a street? Probably not.

Yes, he admitted that you weren’t just any random woman. You were the embodiment of hope and at first he simply wanted to see what hope would manifest as in these times. But something about you kept forcing him to come back to you. In the Dreaming, in the Waking World. He wanted to be around you. Maybe it was the fragment of hope sewn into your soul, Morpheus didn’t know. But when you mumbled to yourself in one of your dreams that you started to fall, he began to tumble. And when you pressed your lips to his, he fell too. Hard.

It annoyed him when you didn’t believe him at first but he had learned from previous mistakes and gave you time and space. Yet, every night when you visited him in the Dreaming it physically hurt him not to be able to pull you into his arms.

You did not understand why Morpheus chose to be around you. Why he found such interest in your mundane life. Morpheus was once again short of an answer when you asked that very question one night.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you, Dream Lord?”, you asked him when he remained silent.

Both you were resting against a blossoming apple tree in Fiddler’s Green. You had turned his face to him and were so close that he could smell you. It was intoxicating. Morpheus smiled at you. Something he had done a lot more often in recent times.

“I have another question”, you continued.

“Anything”, Morpheus replied and also turned his head. Only inches separated his lips from yours.

You swallowed and Morpheus wondered if you felt the same in this very moment. Then you began to speak again. “When we met … you said I wasn’t meant to cry. What did you mean by that?”

His eyes travelled up from your lips to your eyes. He was certain he had never seen a mortal with such beautiful eyes before.

He had hoped that you had forgotten this moment already. You weren’t meant to cry. Hope didn’t cry. Couldn’t. But you weren’t just hope as hope was just a fragment within you. It took him a while to answer, to find the right words.

In the end, he didn’t tell you what you were. It was not meant for you to know. But to him, it still felt like a lie. And while the King of Nightmares, in his thousands of years of existence, was no stranger to lies, he hated the feeling that began to form in his stomach while his mouth formed words that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

I am anti-life. The beast of judgement. The dark at the end of everything.

“Hope.”

He didn’t raise his voice but it still overpowered the traffic noise and rang deep inside of you. Morpheus stood a few feet apart on the sidewalk. It was late and cold and the snow fell down on you relentlessly. You needed to get home, to prepare for a New Year’s Eve dinner with your friends. You didn’t have time for him – and you were still too mad.

“You stood me up.” Your voice cut through the silence between you, colder than the wind pressing against your own coat. Something flickered in his eyes. Hurt? He came closer, slowly.

“For a whole week you stood me up. In the Dreaming, in our café.” Our café. As if you could share anything with one of the Endless.

“Do you not believe that I have more responsibilities than drinking … coffee with you?”

Outch. You lowered your gaze not wanting to show him that his words hurt. Of course he had other responsibilities. You were confused as to why he kept you around so long anyways. “You could have told me, y’know”, you mumbled, unsure if he heard you. “I understand if you’re finally tired of me but … a word would have been nice.”

He stopped, directly in front of you. “Tired of you?”, he asked, his voice soft.

You nodded.

“That is so far from the truth”, he continued. “I don’t think I will ever grow weary of you.”

His words made you look up and when you met his gaze, you drew in a sharp breath of air. He was close, so close, there was only him left in this world. The night sky looked down on you, a mere mortal, with more love and affection than this universe held. It took you by surprise and with so much force that your knees weakened.

“Then why didn’t you come?”, you whispered.

He leaned in. “Because I am no longer able to be around you without … without doing this.”

His lips on your yours were merely a brush, a fleeting moment of worlds colliding. The Dreaming and the Waking. Nightmares and Hope. When you parted, his eyes darkened. You reached for his collar and pulled him down again, desperate to taste more.

Weeks had passed since that very first kiss. Weeks in which you weren’t sure of Morpheus intentions. Of his thoughts. You thought you had overstepped as he gave no sign that your advances were wanted. All these thoughts died the moment, he wrapped his arms around and pulled you close.

Forgotten was the cold, the snow, the dinner, the doubt.

I …

You laughed when Matthew finished his joke. It was loud and free, head thrown back, and Lucienne and the raven joined in your laughter. The three of you sat in the library of the Dream Lords palace, flicking through books, sharing anecdotes and stories. After your second kiss, Morpheus began to introduce you to more and more of his palace staff and you enjoyed being around them when he was called to work.

“We have a visitor”, Lucienne suddenly changed the topic.

“It seems our boss has returned”, Matthew cawed and pointed with his beak towards the end of the hall. Morpheus stood there, seemingly ingulfed reading the backs of books, but you could tell he had listened in on your conversation. The smile betrayed him. A warm feeling spread inside of you.

“He changed, don’t you – caw – think, Lucienne?”, Matthew asked the librarian. “I don’t think I’ve seen him smile so much.”

The three of you watched the King of this realm tilting his head into your direction. “Well, I always hoped this would eventually happen”, Lucienne admitted. “Hoped …” Her gaze traveled to you.

You shrugged. “How fitting that my name is Hope.”

“Yes, how fitting.”

I am …

“Do you hate me now?”, your question was filled with so much fear, it pained the Dream Lord. You knew of Nada, knew what happened the last time someone rejected him. But what pained him even more was that you believed he could ever hurt you.

You sat across from him in your small apartment on your even smaller couch, legs pulled up against your chest as you nervously watched him.

“Never”, he whispered, eyes fixated on the ticking clock on the wall. “I simply do not understand.”

You didn’t either. When Morpheus came tonight, he had offered you everything. A realm, a king, every dream come true. And still, you said no. You couldn’t leave this world, your family, your friends, your patients. No matter how great the love for him was, no matter how devastating the decision felt, you knew you weren’t meant for this. It wasn’t your purpose.

“I am so sorry, Morpheus …”

His hand twitched when you whispered his name.

“I wish I could but-”

“You can.” The clock ticked on and Morpheus followed the movement of its hands. “I am offering you everything.”

“And I have to decline.” It hurt. It hurt so much. “I can not, Morpheus. I … please, understand. I can’t leave.”

He understood. He knew this day would come. You weren’t a normal human being. Like him, you had a purpose and responsibilities and it didn’t matter if you knew about them or not.

You leaned forward, onto your knees and reached for his hand. You rested your forehead against his head, felt him lean into you, and the fear faded that he would take this rejection badly. In your heart, you didn’t believe he would ever hurt you. But he was an Endless and you didn’t understand them yet. You probably never would.

Morpheus closed his eyes as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you onto his lap.

“We’ll still have a lifetime together. Here and in the Dreaming”, you offered weakly.

“As if that could ever be enough.”

… hope.

thank you for reading <3 if you want to be tagged in future stories, feel free to send me a message!

#dream x reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman x reader

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loggiepj · 1 year

Text

FORBIDDEN

Part 4 | Part 5

Part 6

Wanda didn't get a chance to visit Y/n. Not when Layla was always there whenever she managed to reach a few feet away outside Pepper's tent.

Pietro wondered why he suddenly lost sight of Wanda when they went together to visit the human. He should have expected it — that his sister was not yet ready to befriend someone like Y/n.

Wanda tried though, but every time she had the courage, the other promiscuous witch was already there talking sweetly to Y/n. And Layla wasn't even doing it alone, she was always with her followers behind her. Wanda couldn't even help but retch at the annoying sight of what seemed to be dried flowers in Layla's hands.

Rumors then began to circulate like wildfire that Y/n and Layla were linked romantically, much to Wanda's dislike. She did try to control the upset she could feel inside her gut. But the more she could hear Layla's cheerful voice as she began narrating the things she and Y/n had talked about, the upset only turned into fury.

So Wanda had to stay away for a while.

The witch spent most of her time in her tent alone, either sleeping or staring at the entrance bidding for something she didn't know. When she had managed not to think about a certain human who had filled most of her thoughts, Wanda's mind was suddenly consumed with what happened the other day when she had almost lost control if it wasn't for her brother.

It wasn't the first time.

Wanda was seven years old when she first discovered her powers unlike any other witch her age.

The town she grew up in called someone with the same abilities as hers the Scarlet Witch.

She used to hear stories about what the Scarlet Witch could do and how powerful they could get. The Scarlet Witch is the most powerful witch, stronger than any Supreme Witches or even the eldest amongst the Witches' council leaders, who could literally wipe all the population of the world off to extinction in just one flick of their wrist.

When Wanda accidentally burned the huge fields of wheat they had behind their house when she was just a kid, their parents were suddenly filled with fear — both for their own child's safety and for others. She could still remember how their father hid her in the basement for days until the news of unexplained explosion in the farm had dissipated.

Wanda had no idea though. She was still upset because she was left alone in the farm while Pietro got to go with their father to the wet market. It was only supposed to be a silly tantrum. And that was what terrified her parents the most since the explosion in the farm was only caused by a child's tantrum. A little child's tantrum.

Ever since then, the need to teach Wanda and Pietro about certain spells increased tenfold. Pietro complained all the time while Wanda's interest only piqued more. She even went to sneak into their basement at the age of eleven, just to read some of their father's forbidden books, where she had also come across black magic and how to harness them.

Wanda learned how to call her powers on her own one day. Small red mists began swirling around her fingertips, her eyes fascinated at the sight until she sent the apple tree across their yard burning. Pietro quickly made up an excuse that it was struck by lightning but in truth, he saw everything and what his sister had done.

The young female witch didn't try to do it again in fear of what trouble she could further do.

The second and last time it happened was the time their village was attacked by Deviants. It was midnight when the slaughter began.

The twins just turned thirteen.

Pietro woke Wanda up in the middle of the night, drowsy and coughing from all the smoke coming on each side of their house. And then she could hear their parents screaming downstairs.

Pietro was adamant to protect his sister no matter the cost, so he pulled her out of the window, threw themselves down the roof to head towards the dark woods beyond.

Another scream was all it took for Wanda to get out from her brother's grasp and run to their parents' aid. That was when she saw her mother's head being cut off before her.

It was all darkness after that.

The next morning, Wanda woke up with tattered singed clothes and the empty burnt rubbles before her.

Wanda knew she had lost control then, just like what happened in the farm. Only this time, she had destroyed their entire town.

She found Pietro safely in the woods later on as she tried to escape, unconscious but alive. She was thankful she didn't hurt him.

From then on, Wanda grew wary of her own powers.

When Wanda and Pietro were sent under their relatives' care, she never stopped trying to master her powers, to use it only when necessary. There were even times when she could use it to levitate items in the house just to help her with household chores. But it was only executed when her brother or other people weren't around for she had no idea when it would get out of control.

Through time, the twins learned that it might be due to Wanda's emotions.

"I HEARD from someone you were my number one admirer."

Wanda jumped from surprise on her bed, bringing her to the present, not expecting to see Y/n grinning from ear to ear by the entrance of her own tent.

"Sorry," Y/n quickly apologized, blushing as she immediately looked down at her own boots when she noticed the witch was barely wearing any clothing, long expanse of porcelain skin exposed in full display. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay, I was just surprised, that's all," Wanda replied in a rush, standing up from her bed as she moved slowly towards the human. "How are you feeling?"

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, chuckling with eyes still avoiding Wanda. "Felt like I slept for ages."

Wanda hummed, stopping at an arm's length distance, not wanting to walk into Y/n's space. "Pretty sure your ego's inflated now that you're practically the camp's hero."

Y/n then raised her eyebrow at Wanda, focusing on her face instead. "I'm not a hero. Pietro and others were there too."

"That's not what your girlfriend is telling the camp."

"Girlfriend? I don't have a girlfriend."

Wanda only scoffed. "The flowers on your bedside table told me otherwise."

A smirk finally grew on Y/n's face. "Oh, so you really did visit me. I was starting to think Pepper was only trying to lift my spirits up."

The witch's cheeks only turned red as she turned her back at the human, even when all she wanted to do was wipe that beautiful smirk off Y/n's face. "Don't flatter yourself. It doesn't suit you."

Y/n softly chuckled. "Well, regardless, I'd like to thank you for being there—"

Wanda abruptly turned around to face Y/n. "Why are you still nice to me when I'm nothing but ill-mannered to you?"

Y/n swallowed a nervous lump before she replied, "You're not necessarily ill-mannered—"

"Stop alleviating things—"

"I'm not, it's just—" Y/n suddenly ended the conversation as she tightly gripped her side. Her face was contorted in pain as she let out a groan.

Wanda's stature immediately became worried before reaching out to the human, hands touching Y/n as if the latter was so delicate and could easily break.

"Does it hurt? It shouldn't hurt that much, Pepper said that. . . ." Wanda's voice trailed off when she noticed the wide grin on Y/n's face, which slowly burst into laughter.

The witch slapped Y/n's arms repeatedly as she exclaimed. "You ass! How could you make a joke out of something so serious?!"

Y/n tried to get away from the witch's wrath until they were both outside the tent.

"I'm sorry," Y/n apologized, still laughing. "But you should have seen your face."

Wanda stopped her attack when she noticed some of the campers staring their way.

Y/n only went on, "But see, you still care. That's why I like you. Underneath this strong facade you got going on outside, there's a soft kindhearted woman who I want to be acquainted with."

Wanda let out a sigh before she licked her lips, hoping Y/n wouldn't notice how her heart beat never stopped racing. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly realizing anyone could see her nipples poking through her cloth. Y/n, on the other hand, might have spent a little bit too long gawking at her, until she averted her focus to the plants beside Wanda's tent instead.

"I . . . I want to apologize for the way I had been treating you in the past," Wanda muttered, making Y/n look back her way. "I let my fear and doubts consume me before trying to get to know you and the others."

"It's—"

"I'm not yet done," Wanda cut her off, sending Y/n her signature glare.

Y/n zipped her lips as she grew silent, smiling.

"What I said those nights," the witch went on, "I never meant them. It's just so hard to trust someone when I've grown to hate them my entire life."

Y/n nodded in understanding. She could see from the witch's eyes how sincere she was. "It's okay. I completely understand where you're coming from. I don't judge a book by its cover. Plus, you're awfully nice, Wanda, whether you know it or not. Pepper said you helped her bandage my wound when she's busy, and a lot of the injured ones too, so thank you—"

"Don't make a big deal out of it," Wanda muttered before a small smile appeared on her face.

It only made Y/n's grin wider. "See? You should smile more often."

She playfully threw her fists at Y/n once again, the latter trying to make a run away from the former.

"Oi, Y/n!" Pietro's voice disrupted the moment. "I didn't know you were released from Pepper's care."

And when Y/n went running towards Pietro, Wanda couldn't help the way she stared at the former's back, wanting to wrap her arms around her just like what Pietro was doing. Only unbelievably longer than appropriate. And maybe a kiss or two, perhaps.

Wanda quickly shook her head, dismissing such impure thoughts. She decided to go back into her tent.

Y/N TRIED to give the witch some space, burying the intense feelings she felt towards her. Ever since waking up, she knew she should think about how she had managed to survive when she swore she died for a minute. But when Pepper mentioned how Wanda took care of her while she was unconscious, it was always what the human could think about.

Layla's presence should have distracted Y/n, but it would be wrong to lead the other witch on.

That was what the human had been doing for days as she recovered — avoid Layla and her cronies.

And just when she thought everything was going to be okay, something unpleasant caught her eye.

The same male witch who got the Avengers into trouble a week ago named Vision, seemed to be sitting way too close to Wanda during dinner at the pavilion.

Are they lovers?

Y/n shouldn't be jealous. She had no right to be. But the way Vision and Wanda were acting towards each other seemed like they were a married couple who had been together for too long.

"They're adorable, aren't they?" Layla commented, taking a seat beside the human.

Y/n could only nod awkwardly, trying not to look embarrassed from getting caught staring at Wanda.

"As far as I can remember, they were arranged to marry one day," Layla added, instantly making Y/n crestfallen. "They just got separated due to the recent attacks."

Layla wasn't lying though. She really thought the rumors of Vision proposing to Wanda for marriage were true. It was the talk of the town months ago. Layla knew it would make the human heartbroken for she could see the way the latter was staring at Wanda. But better now than later. Layla didn't want Y/n to get more hurt, to see and expect something that wasn't there.

Y/n tried to appear nonchalant and unaffected by the new information. She even did convince Layla that Vision and Wanda look good together since the other witch was now changing the topic.

But Y/n couldn't get her mind off Wanda. Unaware that on the other corner of the pavilion, Wanda almost murdered the innocent mashed potato on her plate with her fork at the unforgivable sight of Y/n and Layla together while unwillingly listening to Vision's boring tales.

Taglist :

@bibliophilicbi @swiftie1-0-1 @whitewidowsbite @aliherreraaa @smromanoff

Author's note:

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#wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda #wanda angst #enemies to lovers #elizabeth olsen

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saberswordseabass · 7 months

Text

A Hidden Danger; Know your threat (3.5)

Soldiers began to bolt down a dark metal grated floor. The sturdy, metallic walls creak from a minor gravity difference. One of the soldiers shouted something unintelligible to the recording unit. The wall to their right begins to creak louder and warp from stress.

Blast doors begin to lower, trapping the two soldiers in the corridor as the wall bulges like it was hit by a freight train. The soldiers begin to obviously shake as they lower their helmets over their elongated fox like faces. They raise their laser rifles and steady it at the wall bulging.

After another moment, the wall explodes inward, but no explosive decompression followed. A bulky fox robot with stark white, like star-bleached armor, forced its way through. Lasers streak and sizz in the air as the soldiers begin to pelt the robot.

It seemed unfazed by the lasers, only focusing on them when one managed to shoot it in the optic sensor. The graviton ram of its right arm, hissed as it prepared to operate once again, while it raised its left arm, its fingers arcing with a green energy. The bot begins to march towards them intently.

The graviton ram began to glow with a green field as it launched forward with a wet squelch from the soldiers before the video seems to freeze as the recording device manages to show a soldier in horrible mixture of fused into the wall and crushed under a powerful gravitational force.

"So what are you thinking for lunch? I really want to try this Philly cheesesteak that the captive mentioned." A Ursidain spoke, gently scratching their belly as their unruly clothes suggested pirates.

"Eh, doesn't sound awful. You might have t-" The Taurian companion began to state before a warning light began to flash rapidly.

A warning began to echo from the P.A. system; "Prepare to be boarded! Don't recognize the ship, but it is probably the human savior team from the GC. Give them hell!" The P.A. warned as a few moments later, the ship violently shuttered as the boarding vessel rammed them.

The two pirates were caught off guard and had been knocked into the left side wall. "What the hell is wrong with them? Are they insane?!" The Taurian screamed as they grabbed their weapon. Right as they finish that thought, the wall to their right melts like butter. An intimated robot in height, having to lean down to fight in the hallway designed for Ursidains.

"Command: Give up human now, and your lives may be spared." The bot ordered as its stark white armored glistened in the dull, flickering florescent light. It held two massive clamp hands, like originally designed to carry around the cargo pods, but they were paired with some kind of unknown weapon, but the armored canister attached to it suggested a flame based weapon.

The pirates look at each other as the bot stares unmoving at the two, waiting for a reply. The Ursidain nodded to his Taurian companion before unslinging an old earth shotgun and firing a shot into the bot's ribcage area. "Eat ferrus insect!" The Ursidain roared as the bot stumbled back, its inner working exposed from the 'insect'.

"Hostile action has been taken." The bot spoke as its wide footing managed to stabilize. The bot's orange, almost yellow eyes, begun to rapidly shift color to a cool, icy blue. Its arms raise out, and frost began to coat its flamethrower like barrels. An icy stream connects with both organics. The Ursidain looks relatively unharmed but still affected by the flash freezing of his outer layer of fur and fat. His Taurian companion was not as lucky as half of her right side crystallized from the ice-thrower's very napalm; 'Neptunic Nictro'

The Ursidain rushes to close the gap, firing two more shots into the bot, which finally knocks the bot down onto its back. With another shot to it's fox like head makes the machine go limp.

From this device's recording, the screen begins to get hit with many white particulars, giving the recording a grainy resolution. A much smaller bot began to step through the hole left by its bigger cousin. Their rifle, which was glowing blue from an unknown source. Upon readying the gun at the Ursidain, who noticed it too late, the camera grows more grainy. The camera cuts out as the Ursidain attempts to rush the smaller bot, and a split frame of a blue pulse wave echos from its gun.

A deep-seated anger began to fill room, as all recording on each screen paused at a gruesome death. A dull grey fur inquistor sat at a desk in front of the screens. "I've spent 70 years making sure Octarus does not awaken. It is a massive threat to not just us, but all of the GC, if allowed, to get fully operational... again." Gloved hands gently rub the inquistor's face. "And if word gets out that we are the cause, that could cause an end to us, not just as an empire but also a species if what the GC did to the majority of humanity is to be noted."

"Get me on the line with Quilx." The old inquistor spoke to his help, who rushes off, only to return a moment later. "What's wrong?" The older inquistor asks as a worried frown fills his graying brow.

"Sir, Quilx has made a ground expedition to the planet where he believes Octarus' forces have been coming from." That made the old inquistor shoot up, only to grip his chest with a pained expersion. His body was old and failing as he was reaching a century in his Inquisitoral duties.

The help rushed to him before he shooed them away with another pained grunt. "Quilx will die if he steps foot on that planet! Warn him immediately to change his course of operations." The old inquistor gasped as his body forced him back down onto his padded chair.

"Maker, why?" The old inquistor gasped quietly to himself as he stared into space with horror of first-hand experience.

Decided to try another approach to this. I hope you enjoyed it! C&C is very much welcome and appreciated! Again, thank @wolven91 for creating this amazing universe to allow me to create this weird word soup :>

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #hfy #humans are space orcs

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ciderfanfic · 3 months

Text

[One Piece x Reader Series] We got a mommy on the ship

Part 2: An Awkward Encounter - Reader x Law

------

Trafalgar's first encounter with (y/n) could be one of the most awkward that ever existed.

The surgeon of death saved Luffy so he could get the alliance with the straw hat pirate. He believed with the boy and the witch (y/n)'s power, his chance of winning would increase.

Unfortunately, (y/n) did not make it to the submarine when the Heart pirate came to get Luffy. She stayed behind to stop Admiral Akainu. Trafalgar was nervous because he needed them both for his plan, if the witch died...... Although the captain was quick to recover and ordered his crewmates to submerge once he saw (y/n) stepped on the admiral like a sandbag.

She'll be fine, she is strong, Trafalgar thought and focused on his surgery with Luffy.

This is strange. No. Trafalgar did not talk about these weird cracks on Mugiwara's skin but the sudden appearance of a black cat next to the boy. Since they escaped Marineford to meet Ivankov and let Jinbe stay on their submarine to look after Luffy, no one acknowledged a black cat on board. Judging from the closeness between Luffy and the cat along with his relaxing expression, the death surgeon assumed they knew each other.

The cat did not allow Trafalgar to touch it but not showing hostility towards him too, just lightly avoiding his hands whenever he reached it. Not that he minds tho, it's just its fur that catches his attention and he couldn't help but want to stroke it. Then he found out the cat was injured, its blood wet Mugiwara's bandage. He was about to carry the cat away but it continued avoiding his contact "You are wounded. Your blood soaked Mugiwara-ya." The cat stopped to stare at him, tail slightly swaying "I'll patch you up."

As if the cat could understand his words, it finally let him carry it to the table and treated its wounds.

I can't believe my skills would be used on a cat someday, Trafalgar smiled wryly, but soon discovered the cat was injured by something sharp. There were cuts all over its body "What kind of mess did you get yourself into?" He instinctively asked, expecting no answer from the cat of course. It's not like it's gonna talk human language like Bepo.

The black cat no longer avoided Trafalgar everytime he tried to treat it. What surprised him was how fast the cat healed, he couldn't help but be suspicious that it might not just be a normal cat. Then suddenly one night, the Heart captain found the black cat laid on his fur hat on the table of his room.

"Mugiwara-ya's room is over there." Trafalgar pointed outside the corridor, assumed that the cat had lost its way but it made no move. Its fur was pitch black, if it ever curled up and hid its face then there is no way to tell apart the head and the rest. Not to mention that they were underwater, it could easily blend in the environment. Trafalgar sat on his chair in front of the cat "Give me back my hat." The surgeon grabbed his fur hat but the cat refused to leave the soft fabric and yawned.

The captain grumbled under his breath, he thought of an idea and picked up both his hat and the cat, carried them to bed and flopped on. The cat jumped unexpectedly to his action, landing on Trafalgar's chest cautiously. Both of them stared into each other's eyes before the cat relaxed and snuck its fluffy body in his embrace.

Surprisingly, Trafalgar was about to use the cat like a soft pillow, it turned out there was some kind of energy flowing from the cat and into his body. They eased his mind from the weight of his thoughts like a meditation and cured the soul full of hatred and revenge of Trafalgar.

It was the first time since he lost Corazon, Trafalgar slept like a baby, so deep and peaceful with the fluffy ball in his chest.

Days later, the crews of Heart Pirate and Jinbe witnessed Trafalgar carrying a black cat while walking around the submarine. He would fiddled with its paws while leaning on Bepo for a nap. The death surgeon would even turn the cat upside down and caress its soft belly after a few attempts and get scratched.

"Ah. It's a she." The crews realized the cat's gender when it showed its belly in their captain's lap "Captain, where did you find it?"

"I don't know. Maybe Mugiwara-ya knows it."

The real shock slapped Trafalgar in the face, hard, when he heard Luffy called the black cat by the witch's name, (y/n).

"Of course this is (y/n), my sister!" The straw hat boy grinned widely while holding the cat in his arms "She doesn't usually stay in human form unless she is fighting."

As if the true wasn't enough criticize for Trafalgar and his crews (probably Jinbe too), (y/n) the cat swaying it tail and spoke "Hello boys~"

...

Trafalgar had a hard time sleeping after that. He had been caressing and stroking the famed witch with bounty as high as an Emperor like a drug (cat) addict. Curse her for not telling who she was! She could have spoken herself!

Who would have thought, huh?! Who would have thought a harmless fluffy cat was the dangerous witch (y/n)??? If Trafalgar knew that was the witch, there's no way he would touch her! Recalling the daily hugging (y/n) session and enjoying her soft fur, oh for fck sake they even checked her gender the usual way people would to animals, Trafalgar felt the urge to jump down the ocean and killed himself in order to clear this shameful past.

Punk Hazard.

Whatever will come will come, Trafalgar made an alliance with Straw Hat Pirate to take down Doflamingo. Carefully he observed the crews, only sighed in relief when he spotted no sign of the black furball named (y/n). The Heart captain would never admit that since he knew the cat's true identity, he was too embarrassed to meet the witch.

Trafalgar well knew he couldn't avoid (y/n) forever since they're alliance now, sooner or later they will cross paths, not to mention (y/n) was Luffy's sister. But he was not prepared when the black cat was lying comfortably on the sofa of his room in Caesar's lab.

How the hell did she get in here?!?

"Thou look like thou have seen a ghost, kitty." (Y/n) playfully stated and jumped off the sofa, turned into her human form and approached the surgeon.

"Not you too." Trafalgar hissed, having Luffy called him by nickname wasn't enough or what that the sister had to make up with another?! "And excuse you. You are the cat here!"

"Aw. Still mad about that?" (Y/n) grinned, stepped forward the captain until they were face to face "I remember thee enjoyed the feeling of mi fur and soft belly when thy hands roaming over mi body." She made a hurtful expression and put her hand on her chest while Trafalgar groaned in embarrassment "If anyone should be gloomy, that will be me. Thou have taken advantage of mi cat form."

"You could have spoken it out!" The surgeon sneered at her, hated it when she put on a smug face. He took a deep breath and stared back at (y/n), grinned cocky "Or are you the one enjoying that, feeling another's hands on your body?" He said sarcastically.

"Oh trust me. Thou will feel different when thou art an animal and yes." (Y/n) were too close to Trafalgar's comfort, shamelessly admitted with a smirk and whispered in his ear "And yes... I enjoyed thy hands, kitty. What about th---" (Y/n) dropped her words to jump back, avoiding the swinging blade from the oh-so-flushed surgeon "Now~ That is no way to treat a lady."

"You're a witch." Trafalgar snapped, his ears were so red they could bleed.

"Still a lady." (Y/n) shrugged before shrunk back to be the black cat and jumped on the sofa earlier "Alright, just messing with thee. No need to look at me like thou want to slice me to pieces." She rolled on her back, exposing her belly. Even in cat form, Trafalgar swore he can still see her smug face "I just had a vision that thee may need help so here I eon."

Trafalgar walked over and sat on the other side of the sofa, glanced at the black cat, Kikoku in his hand "Your prediction today is wrong, witch."

"Tch. Such toxicity. If thou decide to make an alliance with the little one, show some respect to his crewmates." The cat got on her feet and started walking to the captain which he flinched "And stop acting like I just harass thee. Thou art the one stroking me."

"Will you just shut up?!" Trafalgar groaned, wondering if the decision of making alliance with these people is a good idea.

"It's thee being paranoid. All the straw hat crews art fine touching me in mi cat form."

The surgeon startled when he felt the weight of the fluff ball on his lap, (y/n) had already sat on him with her tail swaying gently, tempting him to touch her fur which he tried so hard to resist.

"You're fine with that?" He asked in disbelief.

"Like I've mentioned, it feels different when thou art an animal and I've been a cat for quite a long time." (Y/n) licked her paws "If thou didn't act like it's forbidden to stroke mi fur because I eon originally a human, then I have no reasons to tease thee." She looked at Trafalgar with her (e/c) cat eye "And I do not lie. I enjoyed thy hands."

This time the Heart captain did not swing Kikoku at the cat but his flushed expression betrayed him. He could not move when (y/n) made a nest out of his lap. Trafalgar sighed heavily, finally he gave up. He lifted his hand to stroke her fur. Yes, he still remembered the soothing energy from her and how it helped him relax.

"Are you even purring?"

"I eon a cat, of course I eon purring, kitty."

"I have a name." He growled tirely.

"I know, kitty~"

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #female boss

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animeniac-writings · 1 year

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Obey Me - Dogs, Cats, and More!

Otome: Obey Me Shall We Date

I do have a bit of a bias from having chronic rescue cats. Also I like to think there's demon 'pets', but for the sake of this we'll stick to human-realm known creatures.

Lucifer: He's a bit torn between cats and dogs, he loves Cerberus and the excited loyalty of dogs, but quite likes cats, quiet companionship and often independent. That said, he's a tired dad that will put up with (almost) any animal someone brings home.

Mammon: Your man IS a puppy. For you. His favorite animal/pet/familiar is his crows, he says because they're little pickpockets that bring him shiny things, but he loves them so much and coddles them when no one's looking.

Leviathan: Any aquatic life! Fish, eels, octopi, he finds them a lot easier to relate to and likes going on deep swims to look at them. Has given favor to a few throughout time and in turn extended their lifespan. You once told him he should get a pet lobster, since he will live forever, and with help so can they. Also went to a cat cafe with Satan once and really likes the gentle cat he met.

Satan: Cats. 100% Cat person, one who will buy the toe bean socks and take photos of them with their head in a slice of bread. Buys lots of cat themed items. Taking you (or any of his willing brothers if you're busy) on cat cafe dates are his favorite past time.

Asmodeus: Bunnies and chinchillas. Both for the fact they're fluffy, fat, and so cute! He once had a huge white bunny and adored her, even if she did chew on his makeup brushes sometimes. Would gossip and cry into it's fur, has never had a pet since but still loves holding and petting them (and taking so many pictures).

Beelzebub: Dog person for another puppy like demon boy :) Loves big dogs and little dogs, the dogs that will jump up and lick his face when he comes home, taking Cerberus on runs together. He will have a dog and they will do Everything together, workouts, snack time (with it's own pile to chomp on), matching shirts, will carry it around whether it's a mastiff on one arm or a little shaking thing in a purse he carefully holds.

Belphagor: Cats but he is still fond of dogs. Despite his name and their laziness, it's not sloths. Dogs because they remind him of Beel, but unless it's an old or lazy dog, he will prefer it to stay with Beel too. It can always come nap with him though. Has fallen asleep at many a cat cafe with Satan and woke up to multiple cats on him, they know how to find a good sunspot and he can respect that.

Diavolo: He has always wanted a pet, he would be happy with any pet, loves animals, creatures, doesn't have a favorite but he's heartbroken that most are scared of him. Even Cerberus is weary feeling his power.

Barbatos: Dragons, wyrms, and cats. As a being from millennia long ago before the creation of many animals, and having similarities in his demon form self, he greatly respects beasts of old. And cats are both nice companions, cat be low maintenance, and best of all, will hunt mice and rats. Coincidentally, so will small dragons and the like.

Simeon: Cats and quokkas, he's fond of all animals and will says cats if you ask if he's a "cat person or dog person" but nothing quite matches a smiling quokka in his eyes. If you have any pets they will love him immediately and he gets flustered when you pout complaining he 'stole them from you'

Solomon: Possums. He started feeding a possums once, not even knowing what it was, and ended up taking it with him out of curiosity. Unlike the others who will hold off on getting another pet for missing them with short lifespans, Solomon will always have a few around somewhere. He loves feeding them, handing them each piece of fruit into those little hands.

Luke: He says he loves all animals! He would visit them all in heaven often (it was secretly his favorite place to go), his very favorites were the baby seals and turtles though. Seals with those big wet eyes staring up at him, and turtles because they're so slow and he liked to watch them, and always help the ones that got stuck or flipped over.

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juniemoe · 3 months

Text

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles

rating: mature (minors dni)

pairing: nat sewell/female detective (unnamed)

word count: 1,072

A/N: been meaning to write this for literal years lol. be kind, my first twc fic in years <3

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

There's you, there's Nat and there's a piano.

There’s also a look exchanged, which ignites something deep and molten in the pit of your stomach as your breath starts to quicken at the sight of Nat's warm brown eyes glinting with desire.

You're sitting on top of the grand piano and you stare at each other, vampire and human, the moment crackling with electricity around you. You are incredibly aware of Nat's power as a supernatural during this moment. She could kill you with a snap of her fingers. You're not sure why you find the thought so appealing and you are certain Nat would be absolutely horrified if she knew what you're thinking, but luckily mind reading isn’t one of Natalie Sewell's many talents yet.

Nat wiggles you out of your shirt, laughing when the fabric gets stuck on the silver necklace you're wearing, making you curse under your breath. You try to settle your nerves by steadying your breath, but it's all but useless. It's a little frustrating to lose your composure so easily, when Nat appears to be in full control of herself despite her obvious desire for you. At least for now. You hope that will change.

When your shirt is finally out of the way, Nat's eyebrow quirks, your blush deepens and her long fingers dance on the bare skin over your ribs; like she is playing them the same way she played the piano for you only a few moments earlier.

You sigh at her touch, and Nat smiles, wholeheartedly gentle, and you kiss her, because there's no other conclusion for this moment. You love kissing Nat. She does it like she does everything: all-encompassingly.

Her lips are so soft and pillowy you absent-mindedly wonder what lip balm she uses, before all the thoughts disappear from your mind at the force of Nat's devotion to you. You love her so much you feel faint with it; it feels it wouldn't even be possible to adore a person so much as you adore Nat, its might almost taking you by surprise during this moment.

[ao3 link]

Nat helps you out of your bra by unhooking the clip at the front, taking the time to compliment the rosy pink colour against your complexion, which makes you giggle stupidly, because you're so in love with this one woman you would do absolutely anything she asks or desires of you. It should be scary but it isn't, because she's Nat.

You attempt to remove Nat's green shirt as well, but she gently pushes your eager hands away and instead opens the button and zipper of your washed up jeans and helps you out of them.

Then she falls on her knees and the sight takes you out of breath, makes you feel like all of this is just a hazy dream and you will soon wake up with your life turned back to normal without this devastatingly attractive vampire kneeling in front of you. You scoot closer to the edge of the piano when Nat crooks her forefinger invitingly.

And then… then her mouth is on you.

There’s fabric between you, but that doesn't slow Nat down at all, she's eager and you're wet, and it's so good you almost feel like you're going to pass out at any second.

Nat doesn't let you, though. She folds her hand into yours, linking your fingers as she devours you with your lips, keeping you in this moment with her. Not letting you escape.

The piano’s surface is cold against your back, but you're barely even aware of it, to be honest. You can't feel anything else but Nat. And that's possibly her whole point.

After a moment Nat pulls back to breathe and finally diacards your underwear. Your flimsy pink panties are left to dangle from your ankle, as Nat returns to her task to make your world a better place. She's so fucking amazing that you feel almost livid with it, because you know in your heart that you don't deserve her, you never will. But that doesn't mean you can't try.

You moan and Nat echoes it to you. Her lips are glistening as she raises her head to meet your almost fever-like gaze. She smiles, a little smug, her fingers stroking the side of your left thigh, leaving only goosebumps behind.

“You're nearly there, ya rouhi,” Nat murmurs. “Good girl,” she adds, almost cheekily, and you feel like you could burst from the seams. Or maybe just die.

You groan and kick her shoulder lightly with your foot, the underwear drooping on it flying away, which only makes her chuckle, amused at your impatience.

She leans back towards your, pressing a sweet sort of kiss to your inner thigh, making your heart feel fuller than it's ever been, before putting her mouth on you again.

You moan and sigh and groan, and Nat takes all of it as if they were a gift, her tongue working wickedly on your wet core. You think she might be naturally gifted at it, and only realise you have said it aloud, when Nat giggles, endlessly amused, with a shake of her head. Her soft hair brushes your naked sensitive skin as she shakes with laughter. You would probably get offended if you weren't so out of it, the pleasure making you feel soft as dough.

“Nat…” you say and you're not proud of how her name comes out of your mouth more like a whine.

Nat hushes you, before licking you again, almost ferociously. She wants you to come, wants it badly, and it doesn't take long for it to happen.

It's a thunderwave, a tsunami, a hurricane, and you scream so loudly that you're worried that Farah will come running soon in her need for misguided mischief.

Then you laugh. And Nat laughs, still on her knees in front of you, fully dressed. You lift yourself up as Nat retrieves your misplaced panties (they're somehow stuck on a lampshade) and brings them to you. She offers them to you, but you just raise your eyebrow and Nat ends up sliding them on you, her touch teasing and soft.

She bends down to kiss you. You kiss her.

“Well,” you say, “I wouldn't mind having more piano lessons with you some other time, Ms. Sewell.”

Nat grins. “Your desire is my command,” she says, utterly sincere.

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #nat sewell #nat x detective #n sewell #twc fanfic #n x detective #vilna writes

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bumblesimagines · 10 months

Text

Midnight Beach

Part 13

Request: Yes or No

Taglist: @nathan-no @hyubg @ash455 @gills-lounge

CW/TW: Implied/mention of parental abuse

Did not mean for this to get to 5,795 words lmao so sorry about that

~~~

Dragging the lifeboat further up the shore, (Y/N) finally had enough of his wet sand-filled sneakers. He released the lifeboat once it was far enough on the beach that the tide wouldn't wash it away before lifting each leg and tossing aside his sneakers in frustration. JJ chuckled and clapped him over the shoulder, gingerly pressing the bandana John B had offered him against his bloody temple. The island seemed barren, at least from the spot they'd claimed. But it appeared vast enough to possibly have some human residents.

"Okay, anybody know where we're at?" JJ asked, continuing up the beach and leaning against a palm tree as the other guys sat down alongside the girls. (Y/N) took a seat beside Sarah and took his phone out of his pocket, pressing down on the power button but getting nothing in return. Completely ruined and useless. Just what they needed when stranded on an island. He groaned quietly and tossed it aside.

"Deserted beach. Unknown island." Pope answered tiredly, holding his face in his hands and staring out at the rolling waves with a grim expression. "This is the lowest we can go. We literally have nothing else to lose. The cross? Gone."

"The gold? Gone." Sarah added, fingers digging into the dirt and sand.

JJ scoffed softly, using his pocket knife to scratch into the bark of the palm tree. "Seriously, if we had a nickel for every time we got beat up, I'd say we're at a dollar fifty."

"More than I got on me." Kiara sighed and ran a hand through her hair, brushing it back and away from her face. (Y/N) hummed quietly. His wallet had been tucked away safely in the glove compartment of his jeep, millions of miles away from him. But his wallet had the same use as his phone given their circumstances.

"Yeah, you're right." John B nodded and lifted his head. "But, I mean... we've had some good stuff happen, right? Like if that pipe hadn't burst in the boiler room, (Y/N) might've gotten hurt."

"It was cracked. It was gonna burst sooner or later. Not really luck, just good timing." (Y/N) muttered in response.

"Alright, well, Pope. You're related to Denmark Tanny! That's crazy."

"And I lost all his inheritance." Pope reminded him bitterly. John B groaned and got to his feet, walking forward before turning around to face them and extending his arms out to either side of him.

"Guys, this is it. This is the Pogue life! We're in the Caribbean. It's our own little slice of paradise. With my best friends, with my family. I don't know... I wouldn't wanna do it with anyone else." John B smiled, gazing over each of them with a softened look in his eyes. "Look, and while you guys were complaining about every little thing... I was looking at those burly lefts." He turned his body and pointed out to the waves with a growing grin.

"They do look pretty tasty," Pope admitted, a smile finally breaking out on his face. John B stepped forward and offered him his hand, pulling Pope up onto his feet. Pope inhaled the salty air around them and nodded to himself, turning to face his friends. "There's nobody around. We could squat here for a bit. Kind of belongs to us now, huh?"

"I claim thee Poguelandia! I'm gonna make a flag. It's gonna have a chicken on it with a coconut bra, smoking a J in Crocs."

"Okay, but before you do all that, I'm gonna need you to do us a favor, JJ." (Y/N) chuckled and stood up, dusting off his hands and approaching the blonde. He took the pocket knife out of the tree and used it to point upward, head lifting to eye the hairy brown coconuts above them. JJ smirked and nodded, positioning himself at the bottom of the tree. He curled one end of the bandana around his hand before wrapping his arms around the tree and curling the other end around his other hand. Kicking off his shoes, he planted one foot at the base and began making his way up. The group below backed up but stayed close enough in case he fell.

"Alright, y'all! Timber!" JJ called, hugging the tree tightly before hitting one of the coconuts with his fist until it fell. Pope rushed forward and caught it before it could hit the ground and split open, cursing quietly about its heaviness. (Y/N) snickered and approached him, using JJ's pocket knife to cut a small hole into it. Pope brought the coconut close to his mouth and tilted his head back, the water pouring out into his mouth.

"That tastes-" He looked at them, lips and chin glittering with fresh coconut water. "-so fucking good." Gleeful laughter left the others and Pope handed the coconut off to Kiara so she could get a drink. The brunette eagerly took it into her hands and drank, a blissful look passing over her features as the coconut water trickled down her chin and over her throat.

"Get us some more, J!" (Y/N) called up to him and JJ nodded, knocking down two more coconuts that John B and Cleo quickly caught. With enough for everyone to take a drink, Pope handed the first one off to Kiara so she could drink from it as well. (Y/N) ensured JJ got down from the tree safely and then cut holes in the other two, chuckling as the Pogues eagerly took turns drinking and quenching their thirst. Sarah got her fill, humming and wiping her mouth with the side of her hand. She turned to (Y/N) and held up the coconut for him, tilting it over so he could get a taste of the nutty yet sweet flavored water.

"This'll be our water source." (Y/N) said, wiping his mouth and chin.

"And-" Cleo used her own knife to fully cut open the coconut she had caught, splitting it in two and cutting off a piece of the white coconut meat inside. "A food source." She slipped the slice into her mouth and groaned lowly, cutting off more pieces for herself and the eager hands that shot out in her direction.

"Not to mention all the fruit deeper in the island and the unlimited source right at our feet," Pope added, waving his arms out at the ocean. "We could be having fish for dinner each and every day! I'm starting to really like our chances now, guys. We can build a shelter out of wood and leaves, build a bonfire to stay warm and cook food, we could do so much shit right now."

"Back to our roots, huh?" JJ tapped the side of the tree with his knuckles, teeth digging into his bottom lip. "I bet I can make a spear and catch lunch for us right now."

"Bet I'll catch some before you." John B challenged and with that, the two ran off to find sticks they could sharpen into spears.

Snorting at their antics, (Y/N) turned back to the remaining Pogues. "While they're off catching lunch and dinner, someone needs to make a bonfire for us. We'll need some rocks as well. Once that's over and done with, we should probably rest and get our energy back for the rest of the day. Pope and I can make a checklist of things we need, maybe even implement a system to keep us alive."

"Cleo and I can go get some rocks for the bonfire." Kiara offered and Cleo nodded, smiles breaking out on the girls' faces. Cleo swung an arm around Kiara's shoulder and the two began heading down the beach, chatting animatedly and laughing together. Sarah watched them go with a smile, her hands still tightly hugging the coconut to her chest. John B and JJ took off into the water after shedding their shirts, whooping and hollering with their spears in hand.

"What sort of things do you have in mind?" Pope asked, grinning at the sight of his two friends battling with the waves when there was a perfectly shallow pool mere feet from them with fish skittering along the surface.

"Shelter and food should be first priority. Later on, we could probably make beds somehow. Possibly give everyone jobs to do like fishing, foraging, and building. Maybe have something in place in case rescue ever comes." (Y/N) answered, folding the blade of the pocket knife and sticking it in his pocket. Sarah collected the discarded coconuts, putting them in a pile at the base of the palm tree and wiping her sand-covered hands against her pants.

"We'll figure that out tomorrow. Right now, I'm more worried they're gonna poke their eyes out." Pope nodded toward the boys and set off in their direction, calling out to them. (Y/N) snorted when a wave barreled into JJ and knocked him back, the wind carrying John B and Pope's hysteric laughter. He turned and walked deeper into the foliage of the island, reaching down to collect sticks and small branches for the bonfire. A soft crunching noise followed him and when he glanced back, he saw Sarah collecting sticks and leaves as well.

"You know, you could always join the girls on their rock adventure. Or give spearfishing a try. I doubt the guys will be catching anything any time soon." (Y/N) caught sight of John B wrestling a small fish out of the water only for it to wiggle out of his grasp and escape back into the waves.

"I like keeping you company," Sarah said, reaching down to pick up a large palm leaf. She shook it free of sand and placed it back on the ground, putting the sticks she had collected in the center and motioning for him to do the same with the one's he'd gotten. Getting down on her knees, she folded the leaf back up, tucking one end under the sticks and pulling the other end until the sticks were secured. Sarah reached over to him and dug into his pocket, pulling out the knife and using the blade to poke two holes into the leaf. (Y/N) curiously watched her, following her movements as she used a long strip of leaf and pushed it between the two holes, fingers carefully tying the thinner leaf into a knot.

"It's not much," She smiled proudly and stood up, dirt coating the knees of her sweatpants. Reaching down, she picked up the leaf and tucked it under her arm. Brushing her hair back over her shoulders, (Y/N)'s eyes flickered over her throat. The light bruising had been covered up by her hair, but with it now out of the way, the colors drew his eyes to it. "But it's a start. Now the bark won't dig into our arms and they'll be easier to carry."

Wordlessly, he walked closer and lifted his hand, delicately brushing his fingers against her skin. Sarah's smile faded and her gaze lowered, arms tightening around the bundle of sticks. (Y/N) stayed quiet. He didn't ask. He didn't need to. He knew the rage of a Cameron all too well. He'd seen the anger accumulated in Ward on the boat. Seen the fury in his eyes when Sarah stormed off after their shouting match. Turbulent emotions ran in the Cameron family and Rafe had inherited his explosive anger from his father, the same man who often looked down on him for not keeping himself in check. (Y/N)'s fingers trailed up from her neck to her cheek, palm pressing flat against it. Her eyes rose to meet his. They exchanged no words, speaking solely through their eyes. Sarah's lip began quivering, brows knitting and eyes flooding with tears. She stepped forward, the bundle of sticks slipping from her grasp as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"Ward- He- He tried to-" Sarah hiccuped, shoulders trembling and jerking with her sobs.

"I know." (Y/N) murmured softly in her ear, wrapping his arms around her and cradling her head. His heart squeezed with the memory of Rafe's hands tightening around his own throat, his terrifying blue eyes piercing into him like a blade. The clang of the hook echoed in his ears and the pure rage and bloodthirst on Rafe's face appeared each time he closed his eyes. Sarah wrapped her arms around his waist and tucked her face into the crook of his neck, her sniffles and sobs slowly subsiding. (Y/N)'s attention turned to JJ and a smile spread across his face, gently nudging Sarah so she could turn and look at the blonde who triumphantly held a fish at the end of his spear.

"Come on, let's get some lunch." (Y/N) said softly and picked up the bundle of sticks, walking back out onto the beach as Kiara and Cleo returned with large rocks in their arms. They tossed the rocks down onto the sand and pushed them around to create a neat circle. (Y/N) kneeled down on the sand and set the bundle down, taking out sticks and snapping them in half to put in the middle. JJ sprinted toward them, laughing and thrusting his spear in the air. He skidded to a stop, kicking up sand onto Kiara and Cleo's legs.

"Oops, my bad." He grinned at Kiara's scowl and lowered his spear, letting them get a good look at what they'd be having for lunch. Water dripped off every inch of JJ and a thin layer of wet sand clung to his legs. JJ brushed back his soaping hair and offered the spear to Cleo before reaching down to grab two sticks from the bundle. He stabbed them into the sand between the rocks, pushing the rocks together to keep the stick upright. Taking back his spear, he carefully balanced it on top of the sticks and straightened up, grinning down at their new bonfire.

"We'll be having fish real soon." Cleo reached into her pocket and took out a lighter, crouching down by the sticks and reaching toward them. She flicked her lighter a couple times until a flame sparked, catching some sticks on fire and slowly spreading to the other sticks. The fire reached up, lapping at the underside of the speared fish. Soon, the smell of fish cooking wafted through the air and John B returned with more food for them. Taking the spear off, JJ tore chunks of steaming meat from it and passed them around as John B put his spear over the fire next, cooking the two fishes he had caught. (Y/N) relished the taste of food after nearly going two full days without it, savoring the taste and eagerly waiting for the other meals to cook fully.

The Pogues gathered around the fire when night fell, exchanging stories and eating their fill. Cleo spoke briefly of her past; her time in Nassau and how she'd been working for a man named Terrance who'd do anything to make good money, even if he had to play dirty. She recounted how the plan to steal back the gold had gone down and how worried she'd been when Sarah had been shot in the side by Rafe. Sarah's finger ran circles around the scar on her hip when Cleo told the tale, her eyes meeting John B's across the fire before turning toward (Y/N) who sat between Pope and Kiara. He watched the fire, quiet as always, and Sarah felt tempted to take Pope's seat when he stood up.

Eventually, they put the fire out and got as comfortable as they could on the sandy beach. Pope and JJ rested against a large rock nearby, quietly chatting about the day until they dozed off together, heads leaning against each other. Kiara curled up near their bonfire and Cleo shared her jacket with her, using it as a pillow of sorts to keep the sand off their faces. John B folded his shirt and placed it over the sand, resting his head on it as his eyes battled to stay open. (Y/N) stood up from his spot and stepped over the sleeping girls, careful to not disturb the peaceful teenagers as he grew closer to the tide. He took his seat on the sand and stretched out his legs in front of him, watching the water rise and brush against his legs before retreating again. He turned to the dark horizon and wondered how long it'd take for the Outer Banks to realize they were gone. How many days, weeks, possibly even months it'd take for them to be found, if they were ever found? Would his parents be contacted? Would they bother returning to their old home? Would they assume the worst and bury a casket in his name to get it over with?

In the back of his mind, he knew the answer. Shoupe would call his father to inform him of his missing child, and his father would return to his daily life without giving him another thought. (Y/N) looked at the stars and tried to picture his father in his head. It'd been years, surely he'd changed. Maybe he'd grown a beard and kept it trimmed. Maybe he'd begun styling his hair differently and wore new clothes that better suited the fashion in California. His mother had likely changed as well, probably picking up an accent during her time overseas and changing to better suit the climate in whatever country she occupied. Italy? France? (Y/N) couldn't remember. He didn't want to remember. Not anymore.

Sarah watched him over her shoulder, absentmindedly drawing shapes and figures in the sand. She'd always enjoyed watching him, trying to decipher what was going on in that head of his. The quiet, older guy who only glanced at her in the hallways at school. Sarah wasn't vain. She didn't expect everyone to ogle her when she stepped in their line of vision. But at the academy, everyone did. Whether it was because they found her attractive or they desired a connection to the richest family on Figure Eight. She still remembered when she'd first laid eyes on him. How he turned in her direction and smiled politely as if she were just another stranger on the street before he resumed his conversation with Liv Wickes. Her friends had eagerly spilled everything they knew about him to her, which hadn't been much. A handsome guy with few friends and absent parents who spent most of his time with his ex-girlfriend. It should've been pitying, her friends had even giggled about it. They, of course, stopped giggling when she dumped her boyfriend for him.

Her head turned toward John B and she met his eyes. He smiled sleepily at her and beckoned her over with a wave of his hand, patting the spot beside him. He'd saved her from Ward's attempt on her life. He'd cupped her face and assured her she'd be alright before fighting with her father and nearly throwing him overboard. He'd taken her hand and jumped from the ship. But his comforts were always brief before he set his sights on something new to do. John B went at his own pace and expected everyone to follow. He was chaotic and adventurous and new whereas (Y/N) was calm and passive and familiar. (Y/N) changed to fit everyone's paces, warping himself to fit their needs rather than his own. Both of them offered things she desired. Things she wanted and needed. Two different guys from vastly different backgrounds. A Pogue from the Cut who struggled to get by and hated everything about her family. A Kook from Figure Eight forced to learn how to adapt to stations that turned like tides. She cared for them, but she'd never be able to have them both. They mixed like oil and water, tolerating each other for the sake of everyone around them.

Shaking her head at the brunette, Sarah lied back on the soft sand and gazed up at the stars. She'd have to choose eventually. Pick one over the other and deal with the fallout. But even as she lied there, thinking about both boys, her eyes naturally drifted away from the sky and toward the one sitting away from the others. He slipped from her fingers like sand, each day drifting farther and farther away from her. He tended to her, cared for her, but did he love her anymore?

She hoped he still did.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

30 days.

It'd been 30 whole days since they'd jumped off the Coastal Venture and sped away on a lifeboat to a deserted island in the middle of the ocean. Since that fateful day, the teenagers made progress on their new home. They collected and foraged, ensuring they only took what they needed. Their meals consisted of different fruits scattered across the island alongside berries and cooked fish, sometimes the occasional bird or iguana. They bathed in the waves and huddled around the fire at night. Most days were long and sunburns had taken a hold on each Pogue at least twice since they settled on the island. They built a shelter out of wood and large leaves, just as planned, and used smaller leaves and fibers to create makeshift beds. They had designated spots for food and rotating jobs. JJ had even gotten around to making a flag for the island that waved proudly in the wind. Friendships strengthen and romance planted its seed in some of them.

(Y/N) had seen it in Kiara first. He'd seen her watching JJ more closely, following him around whenever he went off to do one thing or another. She said it was to keep an eye on him, to make sure JJ didn't accidentally hurt himself on one of his ventures around the island. She'd rolled her eyes at (Y/N)'s smirk but he'd seen all the lingering looks, the glances when JJ was occupied with something else, the smiles and soft eyes. She still scolded him and scoffed at his idiotic ideas but she smiled more after and offered to fool-proof his plans. Pope hadn't noticed, seeing as most of his time was spent with Cleo. Whatever Kiara had eaten or drank, it appeared Cleo had too. Cleo was more subtle than Kiara. She remained the same skeptical, headstrong, playful girl they'd met on the boat. But she spent more time with Pope than the rest of them. She smiled more at him, asked him more questions about his interests, and generally kept an eye on him. Even though Pope's attention seemed to always return to Kiara.

As for Sarah and John B... (Y/N) couldn't be sure. The two had appeared to let bygones be bygones but Sarah kept some distance between them, even when they were as close as can be. She never stayed in his arms for too long and they never kissed or held hands while strolling down the beach. The uncertainty on Sarah's face was clear as day and as usual, John B took no notice of it. Even with his tolerance of (Y/N), his eyes always found the former Kook's when Sarah stood by him as if trying to show off the fact he'd gotten the girl in the end. And (Y/N) always found it amusing. Because John B never noticed how keen Sarah was on trying to get back in (Y/N)'s good graces.

The day had started like any other day in Pougelandia. JJ had gone off to teach Kiara how to properly spearfish, Cleo and Pope had taken it upon themselves to forage for food, John B climbed palm trees to get some more coconuts, and (Y/N) and Sarah spent their time making their shelter under a cliff more comfortable.

Taking long strips of fiber from dead trees that Pope had collected, (Y/N) began wrapping them tightly together to create more rope. A tedious and long process but if they wanted a stable shelter, (Y/N) needed to do it. His fingers ached and lightly stung but he'd grown so accustomed to the feeling that he barely noticed. With a chunk of rope done, he stood up and reached upward toward the 'ceiling', wrapping the rope around the ends of two thin logs. He ensured to tie it in a tight knot and carefully shook it. A small smile stretched out on his face when it remained stable. Another problem solved. And just in time for lunch.

"Look what Kie caught!" JJ called as he and Kiara trekked along the beach, fisting a spear in the air with a skate pierced at the end. (Y/N) wiped his hands free of sand and walked over to them, eyeing the skate they'd caught. It looked small but it'd keep their hunger at bay until dinnertime. Or until JJ grew hungry and decided to try his luck in the water again. Sarah crouched down by the bonfire and lit it, licking her lips hungrily as JJ placed the spear over the fire and slowly turned it so it cooked evenly.

"I was just starting to get hungry." Pope's voice rang out behind them and (Y/N) looked over his shoulder at the two. Cleo lifted her pouch in the air, showing off the heaviness of it. "Cleo's a natural. She sniffs those berries out like it's nothing"

"I guess you can say I'm the best forager here." Cleo winked at them playfully, unwrapping the cloth and offering the berries they collected to them. (Y/N) took two and popped them in his mouth, biting down and feeling the berry burst in his mouth, the sweetness of the berry flooding his senses. He hummed at the flavor and took a seat on one of the logs around the fire.

"You know what we should do?" JJ grinned slyly and fetched the 'game hat'. Kiara groaned at the sight of it but plopped down on the sand and eagerly watched. JJ twirled the hat in his hands and surveyed his friends, even stroking his chin and squinting his eyes as he circled them. (Y/N) winced and huffed quietly when the hat was placed on his head. "Truth or dare, my friend."

"Truth. I don't trust you with a dare."

"Smart." JJ snickered and took his seat amongst them, his wicked grin telling (Y/N) he'd chosen well. Nothing good ever came out of being dared by a Maybank. "If you could bring anyone out here, be it a celebrity or someone you know personally, who would it be? Personally, I'd say Gordan Ramsay. I bet he'd figure out how to make a nice juicy steak by now."

Kiara blinked at him. "You need meat for steak, J."

"And what do fish have? Meat!"

"That makes no se-"

"I'd say Liv." (Y/N) piped in before the two could continue. "She'd sometimes fly out to her aunts' place and they'd take her hiking with them during the summer. She hates the great outdoors and has zero survival skills but I'm sure she picked up one or two things." (Y/N) answered with a small smile, gaze slipping down onto the fire and watching it stroke the skate. He missed her. He missed her wild red hair, her coy smirks, the way she could take one look at him and know exactly what was on his mind. She was his best friend, his sister. His heart squeezed and he wondered if she even knew he was gone. Their texts and calls had dwindled with her beginning a new life in college. Maybe she'd already forgotten all about him.

"And, uh, who's Liv?" Cleo inquired curiously.

"My ex."

"You would wanna bring another ex out here, man?" She scoffed and lifted a sandy hand, waving him off and shaking her head. "You're crazy."

"It's different." (Y/N) laughed and Cleo cocked a brow. "We had a good break up. No feelings were hurt when it happened." Unlike with Sarah. He didn't need to say it out loud though, the exchange of looks told him they all knew. Apart from Cleo, again, who looked over everyone's faces. Clearing her throat, she placed her elbows over her crossed legs and propped her head up on her fist.

"What happened? Between ya'll?" Sarah shifted and stared into the fire, her previous giddiness gone and replaced by guilt. John B cleared his throat, wiping his hands on his pants. He leaned forward as if to answer for them, likely about to spout some nonsense about true love that would have (Y/N) and Sarah rolling their eyes at him. (Y/N) beat him to it.

"We broke up and she got together with John B. No hard feelings. Shit happens." Cleo cared for Sarah a great deal, and (Y/N) didn't wish to change her opinion about her. Cleo knew Sarah as the brave and kind girl who'd turned against her greedy family for love. They were friends, maybe even viewed each other as sisters. He had no plans to change their relationship for the worse. To taint the image Cleo had created of her.

"The heart wants what it wants." Sometimes he wished the ocean had swallowed John B whole like it had his father.

"I'm gonna get a drink." (Y/N) rose from his seat and stepped over the log, tossing the hat over to Pope. The game resumed and the silence was swallowed up by chatter and laughter. He approached the pile of coconuts they had and picked one up, shaking it lightly and hearing the water sloshing within. He poked a hole in it, something he found himself doing almost every day, and brought it close to his lips. Tilting his head back, he felt the water flow into his mouth and his throat no longer felt dry. He lingered by the pile, drinking his fill slowly to avoid returning to his place by the fire.

The sky had already begun morphing by then, turning into warmer shades that told them night would soon fall. (Y/N) preferred it. Without the sun's constant glare, the sand cooled and the breezes felt nicer against their skin. The stars shone brighter without the threat of civilization and he often found himself staring up at them instead of sleeping, counting constellations or creating his own. Sleep would eventually seep into him and he'd awake in the late morning along with his friends.

"Here," He licked his lips and turned his head to look at Sarah. She extended her hand toward him, a chunk of cooked meat pinched between her fingers. He took it with a thankful smile and placed it in his mouth, chewing on the all-too-familiar taste. Everything they found and caught they were grateful for, but after a whole month, he wanted something else apart from fish and fruits. He wouldn't mind sinking his teeth into a burger again.

"Thanks." He told her after he swallowed and she nodded, a smile gracing her face.

"And, uhm.." She pointed back toward the group with her thumb. "Sorry about John B. I just want you to know-"

"I take every he says with a grain of salt." (Y/N) dismissed and shrugged his shoulders. Nothing John B ever said had value, he'd come to notice. He only joked, insulted, and challenged. Loud and opinioned with opinions (Y/N) cared little to hear. John B would likely say the same about him. "He's not my friend."

"He could be."

"We don't need to have this conversation again, Sarah. We have mutual friends and sometimes mutual goals. But I don't like him and he doesn't like me. Simple as that." Sarah made a face, lips forming a pout and arms crossing across her chest. Stubborn as always. She opened her mouth to protest, to reason with him but quickly shut it when their friends began whooping. Looking over at the group, (Y/N) noticed a certain blonde missing and his shirt laying casually over a log. Never a good sign. Heading over to them, (Y/N) spotted JJ making the trek up to the highest cliff near their camp which overlooked the waves below. All the shorter, less dangerous cliffs around them had already been used to dive into the water below, it only made sense JJ would be the one to jump off the tallest one.

They crowded near the water and watched him climb to the very peak. He cheered and screamed into the wind around him, letting it caress his body before he backed up and then sprinted forward, diving off the cliff with no hesitation. The group erupted into cheers and whoops as he sunk beneath the waves and then resurfaced. Pope and John B took off toward the water as JJ staggered up onto his feet and threw his hands in the air, a wave nearly knocking him over. The guys threw their arms around him and laughed, excitedly praising him and heading back toward the group. Just another day in Poguelandia.

Night followed quickly and they huddled around the fire, basking in comfortable silence and slowly dozing off. For (Y/N), it felt like he blinked and suddenly it was morning. The sky still had hints of dark blue, telling him it was likely around six or seven in the morning. He yawned and pushed himself up into a sleeping position, tiredly gazing over the others.

Then, he heard it. He almost missed it over the sound of crashing waves and the roaring wind but he heard it. His body tensed and his eyes darted up toward the sky, hands searching the ground around him until he found Pope and shook him awake. He spotted it, dipping through the clouds.

A plane.

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