#caused by you controlling my lush

[surielstea]

Taunts and Tension

Based on this request!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Azriel go on a spy mission and come back a little more touchy than usual?

Warnings: Sexual tension | Briefest mention of a threesome | innuendo of oral (m receiving)

2.8k words

“You have got to be kidding me,” The Shadow Singer grumbled as the High Lord told him we’ve been partnered for his next mission.

“Unfortunately, he’s not,” I huff to the tall male, just as annoyed as him. “Rhys with all due respect, I work alone,” Azriel contended and I scoff. “Does that apply to your love life too?” I quip but they both ignore me. “I know Az, but Eris likes her, he’s more likely to play by our rules if we use her as bait,” Rhys says. “It’s just a meeting, the both of you only have to get along for a few hours,” He hums and I roll my eyes, I couldn’t refuse the offer, he was paying me double for this. “Fine,” Azriel uttered, the fool agreed for free.

“Good, you leave at sunset,” The half-fae instructs then quickly dismisses the both of us when his mate comes into his office, a babbling Nyx in her arms. “Hi sweetie,” I coo at the two-year-old as I pass Feyre on the way out. “Auntie!” He exclaims with a bright smile. The High Lady waved at me and I returned it. “Be careful on your mission tonight,” She advises and I brush her off. “It’s just a meeting, nothing to be worried about.” I smile. “Oh, I wasn’t referring to your assignment,” Her eyes flick to Azriel and my lips form an ‘o’ shape in realization. She chuckled then gave me a wink as the Shadow Singer passed by me, muttering a curse under his breath. I return her smile then nod in a farewell and go the opposite direction down the hall.

The Spring Court was a lot duller than I had expected. Sure the flowers were in bloom and the sun still seeped through the trees but, there was no vibrancy to the colors. “Feyre really did a number on this place,” I hum, looking out at the deserted Court. It still held some beauty, the crystal clear lakes with lily pads floating heedlessly, the rolling hills, and flower fields.

“I kind of feel bad for him,” I mutter, bending down and plucking a daisy from a patch sprouting out the trunk of a maple tree. “Don’t,” Azriel huffed. We were on the border between Spring and Autumn so there was a weird merging between wildlife, the magnolia trees slowly shifting into maples, bunnies sectioned from foxes, and lush forests morphing into rustic woods.

“Are we early or is he just trying to make an entrance?” I sigh, already bored. “Early,” He replies and my shoulders sag. “Can you only respond with one-word answers?” I narrow my eyes on the Shadow Singer. He smirks. “No,” He says and I grit my teeth, looking down at the daisy in my hands.

We go silent for a moment. I stare out at the dusky sky, the last of the sun slipping below the hills. He seems content to continue staring at me, much to my dismay. I didn’t know what for, it’s not like he had to keep an eye on me, and there was nothing I could do that his shadows wouldn’t report back to him, they were often all over me, seemingly out of his control when I was around.

“What?” I snap my head back to him after only a minute, his stare becoming too physical, like I could feel the way his eyes traced my features. “Why are you dressed like that?” He tilts his head. I look down at my gown with creased brows. It was a silk slip, a rich mocha color. I look at what he’s wearing, his usual leathers. “It’s a meeting Azriel, we’re not battling warriors,” I remark. “Is it because we’re meeting with Eris?” He tilts his head. I cross my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I bite back. “That you’re trying to impress him,” He surmises.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Nuh uh?” He mocks. “That’s your defense?” The brunette scoffs and my frown deepens, leaning against the tree at my back. “I wore the dress ‘cause I didn’t wanna change, okay?” I explain with narrowed brows. “And it’s not my fault he admires me,” I add. “Not that you know the feeling,” I murmur under my breath but of course, he heard it.

He takes a menacing step forward, shadows turning sporadic around him and I roll my eyes on the dramatics of it— anyone else would’ve been begging for forgiveness just by looking into the darkness of his eyes. “What was that?” His hand comes to my chin, forcing my head toward him. I jerk out of his hold with a grimace.

“I said you don’t know what it’s like to be admired, or do you need a reminder that you’ve been chasing the same girl for five hundred years?” This time I was the one to take a step forward, my chest nearly pressed to his. “Because newsflash Az, she doesn’t want you—” I start but his hands come to my wrists and pull them up above my head, pinning me to the tree, his other hand on my hip so I can’t thrash.

His nostrils flared, eyes ablaze and I nearly laughed. “You’re constantly teetering on that edge huh? Can’t ever keep your temper in check?” I arch a brow up at him, my smirk only widens as I watch him grit his teeth. He knew what I meant. Knew that he pounced on anyone who damaged his fragile ego, and talked down on his precious family, gods forbid I mention Morrigan. His hold moves from my waist to my neck, wrapping his large hand entirely around my throat, softly squeezing.

“You’re choking me,” I whisper out and the sadistic fuck has a smile on his face. “You seem like the type to be into that,” He presumes and he wouldn’t be far off if this was a different situation. I flush pink at the idea, it’d be a lie if I said I hadn’t imagined the Spymaster on top of me more than once. My cheeks were burning hot, I was beyond embarrassed, and slightly turned on.

“Not so talkative now, are we?” He was so close, so close his body was pressed to my own, our breath shared as his face hovered above mine, cauldron damn his height.

“Let me go,” I pull at my wrists but his grip is iron, and maybe my attempts were halfhearted because, in all honesty, I didn’t want to leave this position one bit. “You learn your lesson yet? Or are you gonna keep being a brat?” He hums and arousal pools in my panties. I quickly glamour the scent, praying he didn’t recognize it before I got the chance. “Fuck you,” I seethe, continuing my futile attempts to escape. “Such a filthy mouth, you wanna put it to better use?” He asks and if I wasn’t red before I definitely was now. “In your dreams,” I hiss. “Oh love, it is,” He smirks, and my brain stutters. What’d he just say?

My pointed ears perk before I can reply, noticing an unfamiliar pair of footsteps. Not Eris.

“Someone’s coming, kiss me,” I say with a rushed tone. “What?” His hand loosened around my neck. “Just—” I don’t finish and interrupt myself by lifting onto my toes and crashing my lips against his.

He seems taken aback for a moment then to my surprise, leans into it. I melt at the feeling. He was tentative at first but once I showed him this was what I asked for he seemed almost, hungry. His hand slips from my throat and cups my jaw instead, calloused thumb pulling at my bottom lip and forcing them open. I can’t help but obey his silent command, parting my lips wider so he can capture me fully. His mouth seals over mine yet again and my stomach ties into knots, the thrumming sensation in my ribcage making me realize this was a point of no return.

His tongue explored my mouth like it was his and his alone, he was devouring me and I savored every moment. An energy buzzed between us, my wrists still pinned up by his hold, but I wasn’t any less greedy with my lips. I wanted him to taste me, to memorize me, and never forget the feel of his lips on mine, I wanted it to hurt when he had to pull away. Languid movements with his tongue turn into messy, impatient strokes, needing all of me right then and there— and I would’ve given it to him if not for that pair of footsteps returning, so much closer this time.

“What’s going on here?” A gruff voice demands answers and Azriel hesitantly detaches, like he was unwilling.

It takes me a moment to even open my eyes, gods if he’s got me this paralyzed over just a kiss who knows how much more I could take? Azriel lets go of my wrists and I regain consciousness.

“I’m sorry Officer,” I put on my most innocent smile. The male in front of me was Autumn Court patrol, lower in rank based on the patches on his arms. “What’s an Illyrian doing so far from home?” He snarled the word like it was a curse. “We’re traveling sir,” I say, intertwining my hand with Azriel’s. He stiffens at the action as if I didn’t just have his lips on mine. “Travelin’?” The officer scoffs. “Out here?” He hums. “Yes sir, it’s our honeymoon,” I grin wildly, trying to capture the excitement of newlyweds as I hold our linked hands up.

The officer raises his brows a fraction, he was buying it. He was visibly older, you had to be ancient as a fae to start having wrinkles and this guy had plenty. “You know, I feel like I recognize you,” He hums and I swallow thickly. It was more likely for Azriel to get recognized out of the two of us, so the Shadow Singer didn’t take his chances and stuffed his face into my neck, lining kisses from my shoulder to my jaw. My hand goes into his hair, weaving my fingers into his soft, dark locks as I continue carrying on the conversation.

“Really? What from?” I tilt my head, resting my luck. “Not quite sure…” He thinks for a moment. “Ah, forget it probably just confusing you with my granddaughter, she’s lovely like you,” He says and I giggle light-heartedly. “That’s sweet to hear,” I smile. “Alright you kids be safe, perhaps find an inn somewhere,” He starts his trek once more. “Thank you, officer!” I call to him and he gives me a wave.

I nearly cackle as Azriel pulls away from my neck, my lipgloss smeared along his lips. I reach up and wipe it away with a teasing smile. “Not much of a spymaster if I’m the one saving you, hm?” I say, hands cupping his cheeks. “You were the one distracting me in the first place,” He defended, crossing his arms and I snicker. “Awh, poor Illyrian baby is pouting 'cause I’m better at his job,” I taunt, his gaze on my lips as I talk.

“Well, that was quite the show,” A familiar, smooth voice intones from a short distance away and I whip my head towards the figure, leaning against a tree with an unmistakable foxlike smirk on his face. “How long have you been standing there?” Azriel questions and it seems like the Heir might laugh. “It’s truly a wonder how your shadows didn’t find me, though I suppose they’re preoccupied at the moment,” He gestures to the ground beneath me where they were pooling at my feet, flicking up and twining at my ankle every now and again, completely forgetting what their job was in my presence.

The meeting went smoothly, Azriel was a bit on edge with the lack of his Shadows but other than that Eris complied easily, he seemed to have something up his sleeve but we’d worry about that at a later date, we were only ensuring his loyalty was still with us.

He updated us on some information including his father, the two males briefing over a plan to take down Beron, and as I stood there I realized I was just for show, a shiny jewel for Eris to look at, keep his attention before he got the idea that he could survive on his own. Not that I minded being looked at by the Heir, he was quite pretty— hel, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t dreamed about both the males in front of me, at once, more than once.

Azriel shadow-walked us back to the House of Wind when we were finished, or rather when he was finished. I probably could’ve stayed a few more minutes just to admire Eris in the pale moonlight, but my plans just had to be foiled by the Shadow Singer.

Az flew me the rest of the way into the house bridal style— since you couldn’t winnow straight in due to the wards. His hold on me felt more familiar than usual, and when he put me down he didn’t step away so neither did I.

“Hey,” Cassian said from the dining table, a mouthful of food muffling his voice. We both swivel towards the male, sat next to Nesta who couldn’t be bothered to look up from her book to greet us. “How’d the mission go?” The brunette at the table said once he swallowed his food. We both stiffen, the memory of that kiss has been replaying in my head over and over since it ended and yet it felt odd for anyone else to bring it up.

“Uh, went nice…” I shrug. Nesta looks up from her page, eyes piercing as they read me like the chapters in her book. “Really?” She intervenes and I nod. “Yup, just, so normal,” Azriel blurts out, and for a Spymaster, he was awfully bad at lying. Cassian creased his brows, clearly concerned for his brother. “Why are you acting so weird, then?” Nesta interrogates and the male and I share a look. “I don’t think he’s acting weird,” I scoff. “Do you think you’re acting weird?” My words are fast like I only have one breath to finish my sentence. “Pshh, never,” He shakes his head, looking down at his feet then back up to Lady Death.

“Right, well, man am I exhausted,” I stretch, feigning a yawn. “Yeah, the mission really wore me out,” He sighs, rolling his shoulders like there’s a weight off of them, following me up the stairs towards the bedrooms.

Nesta looks to her mate, a small smirk on her lips. “What?” The lord of bloodshed says cluelessly. “They’re totally going to fuck,” She hums, sinking into her chair a little and picking her book back up.

Azriel and I split off into our respective bedrooms, just across the hall from each other.

I paced beside my closed door, wondering what the fuck was I thinking when I let him kiss me. Sure I’ve always thought he was pretty but that was always a stupid fantasy, not something I would ever pursue… until now. Fuck, I am so finished. I repeatedly hit my palm against my forehead as I racked my head for any thought that didn’t immediately trace back to him. I couldn’t even look at my own hands without thinking about his hands, how they held my jaw— no. I wasn’t going to let myself romanticize this, it was just a mission. Nothing more. Just a kiss. A yearning, passion-filled kiss that fed all my cravings and somehow created new ones.

I groaned, deciding that this was the finest form of torture. I now stand still in front of my door, hoping that if I stare hard enough at it, he’ll come knocking and kiss me again because, fuck, I do want him.

I can’t sit here and wait for him to come rescue me from my own torment so I do it myself, hand coming to the doorknob and before I can psych myself out, I fling the door open.

To my shock, I’m immediately met with Azriel’s figure, his hand up like he was just about to knock.

“You couldn’t even let me make an entrance?” He tilts his head and I roll my eyes. “Shut up and kiss me already,” I grab him by the collar of his leathers and pull him in, the door closing behind him as his lips crash onto mine yet again.

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#suriels tea #acotar #fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #x reader #azriel #request #acomaf #bat boys #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #shadowsinger x reader #azriel spymaster #fanfiction #x you #my fic #reader insert #x you fluff #azriel fluff #acotar fluff #x reader fluff #fluff #x reader acotar #acotar fanfiction #sjm #they’re so cute #i need him

[artificialstrawberry]

Need some help with that?

* *ﾟQuaritch x Na'vi!Reader in Heat(AFAB) .｡*ﾟ

synopsis: It’s already difficult having to deal with your heat cycle alone. But getting tied up by the Quaritch and being incessantly interrogated for answers definitely doesn’t make it any easier. Luckily (or unluckily) for you, he’s feeling especially nice today.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

“We can make this real easy,” Quaritch drawled in a husky voice. He let out a soft grin at the sight of your frown. “Tell me where Toruk Makto is. Jake Sully. And I let you go, and you can run off to deal with…” He nodded his head towards your clenched legs. “You can deal with your little issue.”

warnings: NSFW, 18+

w.c: 3.9k~

tags: no use of Y/N, reader is in na'vi heat, quaritch has some fun, light BDSM, light choking, thigh riding, light dacryphilia, penetration, squirting, creampie

read on ao3

A/N: feel free to listen along to my daddy quaritch spotify playlist here. this was inspired by @cuethediscoandthedrinks's lovely hc!

Everything about him screamed power, control, and utter fucking dominance. You knew that Quaritch could grant mercy to the heat that emanated from between your legs. The demon could give you what you wanted— and with one glance at his large hands and veined arms corded with sheer muscle, you knew he could give you the sweet satisfaction that you craved. The man in question raised an arched eyebrow as you struggled against the cuffs that bound your arms over your head and attached to a bioluminescent tree branch. You prayed to Eywa that the sweet scent of your heat wasn’t as potent as you thought it was.

Quaritch took a step closer to you, his eyes briskly roaming up and down your vulnerable figure. You bared your teeth at him as you hissed, resisting yourself from falling victim to the delectable scent of musk that rolled off his body. Your eye caught on the bead of sweat that glided down his neck. So lick-able. Embarrassed at your train of thought, you squeezed your eyes shut and your legs closer together. But fuck these damned hormones— everything burned. Your skin. Muscles. The walls of your core that achingly clenched around nothing. Fuck this bastard for capturing you at your worst time of the year!

“We can make this real easy,” he drawled in a husky voice. You were fluent in the language of the Sky People, making his unique accent even more noticeable to your observant ears. There was a part of you that liked his deeper cadence, causing your ears to twitch in interest whenever the demon opened his mouth. Quaritch let out a soft grin at the sight of your frown. “Tell me where Toruk Makto is. Jake Sully. And I let you go, and you can run off to deal with…” He nodded his head towards your clenched legs. “You can deal with your little issue.”

You almost whimpered. I don’t want to deal with this myself, a voice in the back of your head whispered. His towering height flashed from behind your closed eyelids and you couldn’t help but shudder. Him. I want him. Please.

The corners of Quaritch’s mouth twitched upwards. “Otherwise, I’m gonna have to bring you to the lab coats. And trust me, I don’t think a little thing like you could handle what they’re capable of.”

“Go to hell, demon!” You snarled, fighting once again against your bonds. “I don’t know where the hell he is,” you confidently lied. “You want to kill me? Go ahead.” Your fists clenched above your head, the swirl of hormones racing through your blood leaving you frustrated and violent.

The recom frowned, displeased at your lack of submission. He took a threatening step towards you and you instinctively spat at his face, relishing at the sight of him jerking his head back in shock. Quaritch paused, using a hand to wipe your saliva off his face before flicking it towards the lush earth. You braced yourself as you anticipated his reaction to your defiance. Your breasts rose and fell with each breath that you released, the sensitive peaks hardening into pebbles with each step he took closer towards you. Aching. Begging to be touched. Your back subconsciously arched towards him, presenting themselves like a meal for a starved man.

This heat was unlike anything you’ve felt before. In the past, you’ve simply used your own slender fingers or the assistance of other young men from your tribe who were simply looking for a quick release. But the ache that you had for the recom in front of you was primal, like he was the holy salve that could ease all of your problems. Your body could feel sensation: the soft moss beneath your toes, the itchy fabric that bound your wrists and the cool night air caressing your body. Not to mention the glistening liquid that started to seep outside your sex.

Quaritch advanced forward with the speed of a warrior, his brutish fingers gripping onto your cheeks as he angled your face closer to his. Your face grew impossibly hotter at his close proximity. “Where. Is. He.” He growled. His hold on your face was firm but not painful— but the feeling of his skin on yours seemed to satisfy something primal within you, and you regrettably let out a meek whimper. You swore that you felt wetness run down your leg, your tail harshly flicking from side to side in desperate want.

A flash of realization seemed to hit the Colonel as he took note of your quivering frame. His eyes were half-lidded as he took a long look at your tongue swiping across your lips, his ears twitching at the sound of your quiet whimpers. He hadn’t fully tested out the capabilities of his Na’vi body, but with a deep inhale, he knew that the sweet musk that emanated from your being meant something. He felt his cock twitch in his pants. Not only were you in your heat, wanting some form of relief— but you wanted him. You wanted him to mate with you, to stuff your aching pussy with his Na’vi cock and spill himself deep inside your cunt.

“How ‘bout I make this easier for you?” Quaritch taunted.

His hand gently trailed from your cheeks to your neck, giving it a tight squeeze. He let out a breath as he watched your eyes flutter shut, his thumb gently caressing the warm skin of your bobbing throat. His eyes zeroed in on your soft lips, gently parted and seconds from drooling. He had to admit it to himself: you were one of the prettiest Na’vi women that he had ever seen. For a split second, Quaritch tried convincing himself that this was part of his mission. But shit. What a fun mission that hunting Jake Sully turned out to be.

He brought his other hand onto your hip, tightening his grip with just the right amount of pressure. He wanted nothing more than to run his hands over your tits, to push away the woven top that did little to hide your hardened peaks. But he was patient. He could wait this out.

“You could try,” you gritted from your teeth in your accented English. “But you will not be able to find what you are looking for.”

“Really?” Quaritch asked. The hand on your throat moved backwards to grasp the braided queue behind your head. A flash of fear shuddered through your body, but you were surprised with his gentle grip. With your hair in his grasp, moved his fist towards the ground, encouraging you to angle your neck upwards. With your neck outstretched, he bent his head down to slowly run his tongue from your clavicle to just beneath your ear, leaving a glistening trail on your blue skin. “Hngh— ah!” You softly cried out at the feeling of his hot, wet tongue, lapping up the pheromone-filled sweat on your neck. You felt your body deflate in the absence of his heat as he slowly pulled away from you. You stared at him with a look of disbelief, offended at the action of him stopping. You almost pouted. Curse your heating cycle for making you act like this. Feel like this towards a demon.

“Oh?” The recom tilted his head. A smile crinkled his eyes, as if he could hear your inner monologue and was absolutely toying with the fact that you were trying so desperately hard to resist your desperate want for him. “You want more, sweetheart?”

You were about to shake your head in resistance, preparing to feign ignorance at his questions regarding Jake Sully, but your mouth dropped open when Quaritch returned his mouth to your body. This time, his lips latched onto your breast, sucking on your nipples through the woven top that kept your chastity. You let out a loud gasp, your back arching even further as you pushed your chest into his face. Your skin felt the rumble of his throat, your hip feeling the cold absence of his other hand before it reached to grab onto your other breast. You were a pathetic little thing, arms tied above your head, whimpering and moaning into oblivion while the recom continued his assault on your tits.

The colonel slid his hand beneath your top, revelling at the breathy sounds that left your pretty little mouth with each pinch and roll of your nipple. His tongue longed to directly taste your pebbled flesh, and he quickly pulled away before fully rolling your top up. He groaned at the taste of your perky nipple against his tongue, swirling and flicking. In this state, your body was sensitive and at mercy to his every move. You let out a high pitched whine at the euphoric feeling of his soft, wet tongue lapping at your bare breasts, butterflies fluttering throughout your core.

“I-“ You let out a strangled noise when you felt his sharp teeth gently nibble on your nipple. “Won’t! Say- ah! Anything!”

“We can test that out,” Quaritch grunted. He brought his thigh between your knees, forcing you to slightly widen your stance. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wondering about the purpose of his positioning when— oh. Your body was flush against his, his hand gripping your hip and the other still wrapped around your braid. You felt the thick muscles of his thigh flex underneath your cunt, your body betraying you as you felt the moisture of your pussylips leak onto your loincloth and onto his thigh.

Quaritch groaned at the feeling of your wetness on his thigh. “Fuck,” he gritted. “Look at you, all soaking wet. All for me, ain’t that right sweetheart?” He drove his leg further up, adding more pressure to your sweltering cunt. Your knees buckled at the contact on your sex, your hips grinding back and forth as you satisfied yourself with the Quaritch’s muscular thigh. It fit perfectly between your legs, allowing you to brush your clit against his body at just the right angle, pushing you closer and closer to your release.

The colonel kept his eyes on your gyrating body, hypnotized by every languid roll of your flushed body. His erection strained against his pants, almost painfully, and he could feel small dots of pre-cum stain his underwear. Ever since he woke up in his Na’vi body, he never had the chance to rub at his own cock. It wasn’t until he met you that he found the urge to drive his member to satisfaction, to feel his new body release white-hot ropes of cum until he was spent.

You continued to press yourself against his thigh, grinding your swollen clit onto his strange pants. You hated to beg, but fuck, you needed to remove the layers that separated your cunt from the colonel. “P-Please,” you stammered, glancing down at your loincloth.

“What’s that?” Quaritch’s ear twitched. “You need some help, sweetheart?”

His thigh abandoned your core much to your avail, but he decided to be merciful. Quaritch curled his hand around the waist of your loincloth before pulling it down, finally revealing your swollen pussy to the air. He breathed deeply, inhaling the sweet scent of your cunt and letting out a low groan.

He took his palm, cupping the hard tent that protruded from his pants and firmly massaged his shaft through layers of cloth. The recom allowed himself this blissful moment of relief before he pulled his hand away from himself, bringing his thigh back to your naked wet pussy. The two of you groaned loudly at the contact, your slick cunt lips staining his pants with each stroke. You rolled your hips down on his thigh intensely, desperately chasing your high as soft whimpers and pants escaped your mouth. You were grateful for Quaritch’s rough hands on your hips, guiding your motions back and forth as he practically lifted you from the floor with his impressive strength.

“Look at you, all horny and wet just from riding my leg.” Quaritch grunted, nearly losing himself when he felt the side of your thigh brush against his cock. He bit his lip, the metallic taste of blood coating his tongue. He felt a surge of pride as he watched you increase your speed, his ears twitching at the quickening inhales of your breath; he knew you were on the precipice of cumming. He gave you a devilish grin. “And what if I—“

You let an animalistic whine as Quaritch stepped away from you, a sticky string of liquid trailing from your hole to his stained pants. Immediately, you clenched your legs together again, squeezing your own thighs together as you longed for friction. You looked at Quaritch from under your eyelashes, eyes wide in betrayal. He met your stare with a tsk of his tongue.

Your gaze was quickly drawn to the colonel’s evident bulge, your mouth watering at the site. You lost your composure as you became painfully aware of the emptiness of your sex, walls of your cunt spasming against nothing in pulsing bursts of need. Need for his cock to fill you up, the need o fill your senses with just him and to need to have him fuck you until you could no longer think about the frustrating pain.

“Please,” you whispered. You saw the colonel falter for a slight moment before he straightened himself, towering over you with the cold stare of a warrior. As if he could pretend that he didn’t feel the same lust that took control over your body. You saw right through him.

“Tell me where Jake Sully is, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You shook your head, refusing to say a word in fear of sinking into your desire to beg for him. Your breath hitched as Quaritch stepped closer towards you again, your hips angling up towards him as if he was the rightful owner. Despite the colonel’s hard resolve, you knew that he was entranced by you, your scent. That was the effect of the Na’vi heat— the scent of your pheromones, enough to drive a warrior crazy. And god, he was insane. Quaritch slowly took his hand, the bare skin of his digits finally making contact with your soft, slick pussy lips. His eyes drooped to your folds, his mouth dropping at the feel of your soaked cunt. Fuck, he had never felt anything so enticing in his life. He watched your facial expressions melt into bliss, your pretty eyes squeezed shut and your mouth shaped in an ‘o’ shape.

You felt the thick pads of his calloused fingers part your dripping lips, slowly trailing from the edge of your hole to your puffy clit. His digits gently toyed with your entrance while his thumb rubbed circles against your sensitive nub, and your head fell back in pleasure, exposing your neck once again. Growling, Quaritch’s mouth pounced onto your skin, gently biting down on the sensitive skin of your neck before darting his tongue against your pulse point. Your fingernails dug into your palms, drawing blood as you whimpered pathetically. “Quaritch,” you gasped softly. The recom’s ears perked up at the sound of you crying out his name, and fuck. He was a goner.

And he had to stop before he lost himself.

Quaritch stepped away from you once more, taking in the sight before him. He felt his tail flicker as he looked at your heaving chest, your body trembling from his handiwork. The sides of your thighs were slick from your want, your breasts swollen and heavy. His body stilled as you made eye contact with him, your pupils blown so wide that they were practically black. Your lips were puffy from you biting down on them, a small drizzle of drool running down your chin. He knew that it would be torture to leave you like this, begging for his touch, your orgasm unspent.

His heart raced at the sight of you, cock ready to burst despite not having touched it. He was going crazy.

“Jake. Sully. Tell me. Now. And I’ll do both of us a favour by unzipping my pants right now, taking out my dick, and pounding into that wet little pussy of yours until you cum all over my cock and milk me real, real nicely.” Quaritch growled in frustration. He waited with bated breath for your response, confident that you would finally give into his interrogation.

Instead, he was taken aback at your twinkling eyes, tears pooling in each corner. Your lower lip wobbled as you shuffled side to side, desperately rubbing your legs together. This was all too much for a Na’vi in heat. He couldn’t leave you like this, all strung up with nowhere to burst. Your entire being inwardly screamed at yourself, at him, to be wrapped up in his arms, to feel every inch of his skin on yours. You felt like you could burst into tears at the feeling of your throbbing, horny pussy.

And so, fuck your hormones, you blinked as your tears finally ran down your face.

Quaritch stared at you, stupefied at your sad expression. Your long lashes fluttered as you kept trying to blink away fat tears, your bound hands unable to wipe them away from your cheeks freckled with bioluminescence. He felt his stoney heart break for a split moment, and he swore under his breath.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he said before finally breaking his resolve. Quaritch took one step before grasping your face with hands, his lips finally crashing onto yours in a frenzied rush of heat. Finally. Your lips slotted between each other perfectly, as if your bodies were made for each other. Gasping, Quaritch took advantage of your opened mouth to tease you with his tongue— one swipe, two— and you swirled your tongue around his, saliva pooling into each other’s mouths until you had no idea where you ended and where he began. Your kiss was messy, sloppy, and the perfect release for your pent-up tension.

With one hand, Quaritch quickly undid his belt and gasped his firm cock with his hand. His Na’vi member was an impressive size, veins running down the side like lightning strikes. He let out a low groan as he rubbed the sensitive head of his cock against your sticky entrance, his mouth salivating at the sight of your juices oozing out of your cunt like ripe fruit. He wrapped one of his hands underneath your knee, lifting your leg up with ease as he continued stroking your leaky slit with the swollen tip of his length. He watched as you squirmed incessantly, your back arching as he roughly tapped his tip against your puffy clit. Quaritch was enamoured by your pretty little moans, his pre-cum mixing with your wetness.

“P-Please,” you pleaded.

The colonel sucked in a sharp breath. “Just for you, sweetheart.” His cock finally slipped past your entrance, the two of you moaning loudly. Quaritch kissed the tears on your cheeks as his length disappeared into your body, savouring the feeling of his thick member stretching your pulsating walls. You released unintelligible whimpers as he slowly rutted in and out of you, the lewd noises of his flesh plunging into your wet cunt music to his ears. Quaritch grunted as he pulled you close, his muscles taut with every roll of his pelvis. Your head fell forward, lightly jostling against his sweat-soaked chest with each painstakingly slow thrust.

“More,” you whimpered, your body writing against its restraints. With a growl, Quaritch’s slow thrusts quickly transformed into a brutal pace as he roughly jackhammered into your cunt. He used the calloused fingers of his other hand to rub tantalizing circles on your bundle of nerves, his ears twitching in delight at every breathy moan that left your swollen mouth. The sensation of his cock and his fingers were almost too much for you. Your walls fluttered around his throbbing member with each pump, your building orgasm causing your cunt to spasm and clench around his cock tighter and tighter. “Fuck— your pussy feels so good sweetheart, you’re taking me so fucking good.” He groaned into your ear, the scent of his musk filling your senses. You whined as the familiar build-up of your orgasm met with an unfamiliar sensation that built in the pit of your core.

“I-“ you stammered as Quaritch’s cock kept pistoning inside of you. “I feel like I’m going to—“

“Come on sweetheart, it’s alright, I got you.” Quaritch’s gravelly voice guided you to your climax. He rolled the pads of his thumb into circles on your clit, relishing in the way that you were falling apart at his touch. He lifted your leg higher, hammering into you at a deeper angle that sent your eyes rolling back, and you let out a choked sob as you felt yourself convulse around his cock. Quaritch groaned as your pussy gripped his member, savouring your strangled noises as your weeping cunt came around his member, squeezing and milking.

“That’s it, I got, you I— oh, fuck.”

It was like a dam had burst. Squirming, you felt a clear liquid seep from your pussy, showering down his cock and leaking down your legs. Your eyes tore open, your mouth dropping as you stared at your dripping juices. Quaritch blinked down at your sex, his grip on your body turning to steel. “My cock that good that you just had to squirt all over it, huh? Fuck,” he swore as he picked up his thrusts once more, ravishing in the ways that your delectably wet cunt gripped him. His thrusts became sporadic as he reached his peak, the sweat from his exertion smearing onto your body.. “Oh fuck, your pussy takes my cock so well— hngh, fuck— you want my cum?”

You nodded your head desperately, your eyes watering and drool running down the sides of your mouth. “P-Please,” you begged. Quaritch pounded one last thrust before letting out a guttural groan. His hips stuttered as he released his hot seed into you, bursts of white semen coating your sensitive walls. You moaned at the feeling of his cum filling your cunt, trails of his seed leaking down the side of your legs. “Fuck,” he swore.

Quaritch’s arms quickly wrapped around your middle as you slumped forwards, your energy entirely spent. After the two of you caught your breaths, he released you from the branch, your hands massaging the red marks on your skin from the cuffs that restricted you. He wiped a lock of hair away from your face, surprising himself for a moment. The two of you paused, staring at each other as you held your wrists close to your chest. He blinked as he took a careful step towards you, your mind reeling as you fought against the realization of what you two had just done.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, unsure what to think of the emotion pinching his eyebrows together. The colonel took one step towards you, “don’t—“

After quickly grabbing your discarded clothing, you took off running.

“Shit.”

The colonel was utterly fucked.

⋯ ˁᱸᲲᱸˀ ⋯

#miles quaritch x reader #colonel quaritch smut #avatar 2 smut #na'vi smut #colonel quaritch #avatar miles quaritch #avatar #atwow x reader #avatar x reader #avatar 2 spoilers #recom quaritch x na'vi reader #my writing #avatar the way of water #quaritch fanfic #avatar 2009 #stephen lang #jake sully #quaritch x y/n

[thegoldiehanson]

Wish I was telling a bratty 18/19 year old girl to go to her room right now. Get in there and wait for mommy. Then I go into her room, bend her over my knee and start spanking her. She moans cause it hurts a little but in the best way. I tell her just wait until your father gets home.

Then once daddy gets home we both go into her room and he gives her a spanking of his own, but this time he pulls down her pants and her panties. Daddy’s big strong hands spank her bare ass and she moans louder than she did when mommy spanked her. With every slap I can see her pussy get wetter and wetter. I tell her look how much of a slut you are. Getting turned on by daddy’s punishment. Mommy is going to show you what happens to sluts.

I slide two of my fingers into her tight wet pussy while daddy continues spanking her ass. I finger her hard and fast and she moans even more. Daddy says “oh you like that you little slut? Then I’m gonna stop spanking you right now and punish you another way.” He stuffs a finger in our babygirls throat and tells her to suck on it to make it wet. Then he takes his finger out of her mouth and slides it into her tight asshole. Now we’re both fingering her 2 holes while she’s bent over daddy’s knee.

Our babygirl quivers and moans while we’re fingering her. We tell her now we’re gonna make you taste yourself. We both take out our fingers from her pussy and her ass and put them in her mouth, commanding her to suck them. She does and we tell her “good girl, finally you’re being obedient.”

Daddy slides her off his knee onto the bed so that she’s laying face-down. He stands up and I see he has a huge bulge in his pants from his erection. He asks her “can you continue being obedient for mommy and daddy?” and she nods. From her beside drawer I pull out her pink lush vibrator and slide it inside her pussy while she’s laying on the bed. We tell her we’re going to control the vibrator and she’s not allowed to take it out or touch her pussy at all. Now we’ll see if she’s able to do as she’s told.

Daddy turns on the vibrator and starts it on the low setting. She lays still on the bed and closes her eyes as she bites her lip. I sit on the bed next to her and tell her “good girl, you’re doing great so far.” But we’re just getting started. I slowly unbutton her top and let it fall open, revealing her small but perfectly round breasts. I pinch both of her nipples and she lets out a little moan.

Daddy turns up the vibrator while I squeeze our babygirl’s breasts and play with her nipples. She raises her knees and spreads her legs and starts moaning a little more. Daddy sits down at the foot of the bed so that he has an excellent view of our girl’s pussy in between her spread legs. He turns up the vibrator even more and her legs start to twitch. She tries to move her hand down to rub her clit but I stop her and pin her arms down on the bed. Mommy and daddy told you that you weren’t allowed to touch.

My huge chest covers her face as I pin her arms down, muffling her moans. Her face is buried in mommy’s cleavage now. Daddy turns up the vibrator all the way and our babygirl squirms on the bed. Her hips thrust up as she orgasms, squirting all over the bed, the lush vibrator shoots out from her pussy and falls into daddy’s lap. She keeps squirting and soaks daddy’s clothes along with the blankets on the bed. I tell her “good girl, let it all out, mommy and daddy are right here and we love you.” She squirts until there’s nothing left and only then does daddy turn off the vibrator.

I release her arms and daddy picks up her lush vibrator that landed in his lap. Daddy stands up from the bed, his clothes completely soaked from our babygirl’s squirt. He takes off his wet shirt, then his wet pants, and drops them on the floor. I can see just how hard he is and the tip of his cock is peeking through the opening of his boxers. I realize that my dress has gotten a little wet too, so I take it off so that I’m just wearing my bra and panties.

We tell her she was a good girl for the most part, except when she tried to touch her pussy and mommy had to intervene. Maybe she will do better obeying direct commands from us. I tell her “take off mommy’s bra.” She unhooks my bra and slides it down, letting my huge heavy breasts hang freely. Daddy says “pull down daddy’s boxers.” She pulls his boxers down over his hips and his huge thick cock springs out.

I tell her “put daddy’s cock in your mouth.” She leans forward while sitting on the bed and puts her mouth around the tip of daddy’s cock. I tell her “all the way, babygirl” and she moves her mouth down the shaft until it touches the back of her throat. Daddy starts sliding his thick cock in and out of her mouth and I hold her hair back, kissing her neck and telling her what a good girl she’s being. With my other free hand I start playing with her nipple again.

After a few minutes, daddy pulls his cock out of her mouth and picks her up in his arms. Since her bed is soaked from her squirt, he carries her to our bedroom and lays her down on our bed. I take out my strap-on from the bedside table and put it on. Daddy says “take mommy’s strap, babygirl” and I climb on top of her, sliding my strap into her pussy. I start fucking her and tell her “suck on mommy’s nipples”, guiding my breast to her mouth. She starts sucking on my hard nipple and moaning into my breast as I continue thrusting my strap in and out of her tight wet pussy.

Daddy stands next to the bed and watches us while slowly stroking his cock. He tells us he loves to see his two favourite girls together. He stops stroking for a minute to place one hand on my other breast and one hand on our girl’s breast. He squeezes them and pinches our nipples as we fuck. He tells her “stroke daddy’s cock”; she reaches over and starts stroking his hard cock while I keep fucking her with my strap-on.

When I sense she’s about to cum I tell her “don’t you dare cum yet until daddy gets to fuck you too” and pull my strap out. She holds her orgasm in, gasping as I take my breast out from her mouth and dismount her. Daddy lays on his back on the bed next to her, and tells her “sit your ass down on daddy’s cock.” She sits down on his lap reverse-cowgirl position and daddy rubs the tip of his cock against her pussy first to get it nice and slick with her juices, then he slides it nice and slow into her ass. I tell her “good girl, your tiny little bum took daddy’s big cock in so well!” I watch for a minute as he holds her nice and still in his lap with his cock all the way inside her ass, with one hand he fondles her breast and with the other hand he starts gently rubbing her clit, all the while kissing her neck and whispering “daddy’s good girl.”

I tell our babygirl “open your legs wide for mommy” and she does as she’s told. I slide my strap-on into her pussy again and me & daddy start fucking both of her holes. He rubs her clit faster this time and she moans sooo loudly. I stuff my breast in her mouth again and tell her “suck mommy’s nipple.” She sucks my nipple hard and keeps moaning. Gradually we speed up and start pounding her ass and her pussy harder and faster. Finally daddy says “okay babygirl now you’re allowed to cum” and she does, releasing another stream of squirt. I pull out my strap-on and rub it against her clit fast, making her cover myself and daddy with her squirt.

Daddy flips our girl over to doggy-style position and slides his huge thick cock back into her ass. It slides in easily this time and I know it won’t be long before he cums. Instead of starting off slowly this time, he immediately fucks her ass hard and fast. I spank her and tell her she is being so good and obedient taking daddy’s cock in her ass. I tell her it’s okay to be a slut as long as she’s an obedient babygirl for mommy and daddy. Finally daddy tells her “I love you so much babygirl, take daddy’s cum now.” She screams “yes daddy!!” and he unloads his warm load of cum into her ass. Once he’s finished, he slowly pulls out his long cock, covered in cum.

Our babygirl falls onto her back on the bed, exhausted. Daddy tells her “you’re such a good girl, there’s just one last thing. Open your mouth.” She opens her mouth wide and I stick my strap-on in there, making her taste her pussy juices and lick it off my strap. Then daddy slides his cock in her mouth, making her lick off all his cum.

(I got so fucking wet writing this 💦💦)

#text #fantasy #mommy k!nk #fauxc3st #fauxcest #daddy k!nk

[neteyamssyulang]

Biting

Day 23

Pairing: Neteyam aged up x Fem avatar reader

Summary: You decided to visit your mate during training not expecting the plans he has once you show up.

Warnings: Dom Neteyam, Sub reader, P in V, Marking, Creampie, Choking, Slight Aftercare.

Word count: 1587

Translation(s): Paskalin -> Honey, Yawne -> Beloved, Nga yawne lu oer -> I love you.

A/N: This has to be my favorite one now🤭

Tags: @teyamsatan @pandoraslxna <3

You made your way to the training grounds before sneaking up and jumping onto your mates back. Neteyam was in the middle of a lesson when suddenly he felt someone jump onto him.

His eyes widened in shock but quickly realized who it was "W-what are you doing?" You giggled before reluctantly getting off him "I missed you."

"Is that so?" He smirked trying to act confident even though his heart was beating like crazy. "I missed you too paskalin" he then gently pulled you close placing a soft kiss on your lips.

"You didn't have to attack me in order to talk to me though" Neteyam teased. "Well I wanted to surprise you" you grin. The male chuckled "You succeed, so what's up?." you shrug "I just wanted to see how the training was going."

"Ah I see, it's going well we're about to start some drills. Are you going to stay?" He silently hoped you'd say yes. "Would you like me to stay?" You say while running your hands down and up his toned chest.

Neteyam winked at you "Of course I would, but are you up for what I have planned?" You raised your eyebrow at him "I am yes."

"We'll see." He trailed his finger on your lips causing you to shiver at the touch. He then slowly brought your faces close together until your lips were mere centimeters from eachother.

"Shall we?" He smirked daring you to make the move. "Oh shut up and kiss me" you immediately catch his lips with yours while wrapping your arms around his neck.

Neteyam let out a deep chuckle against your lips enjoying the way you took charge. He then wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you closer deepening the kiss.

His tongue pressed against your lips demanding entrance which you happily granted. As you allowed him inside he immediately took control exploring your mouth.

A low growl rumbled through him as he savored your taste, his hands trailed down to grip your ass firmly. "T-teyam" you moaned into the kiss.

"Yes yawne?" He murmured letting his lips trace kisses down your neck. His teeth grazed your skin lightly causing a trail of goosebumps to erupt on your body.

"Sh-shouldn't you get back to training?" You say starting to pull away from him. Your mate tsked pulled you back to him "They can start without me, I'd much rather concentrate on something else right now."

Neteyam trailed his lips to the other side of your neck gently biting the soft skin. Shivers ran down your spine as you moaned softly.

His grip tightened as he felt your reaction "You enjoy this don't you?" He murmured sucking on your sweet spot.

"Y-yes" another moan left your lips. Neteyam grinned letting out a throaty chuckle "Then let's cut this conversation short and find somewhere more...private~"

Before you could react he scooped you up bridal style making you giggle. "I know a place where no one will find us" he said as he carried you away to a different part of the forest.

It didn't take him long to reach his destination. You both were in the middle of the forest, in a secluded glade. The tall trees above you offered shade, the grass soft and lush. It was peaceful, quiet... and intimate.

Neteyam set you down on the ground, and without warning he pressed you against the bark of a tree, his body trapping you.

Your eyes widened but immediately placed your arms around his neck. When Neteyam was sure that you were properly pressed up against the tree, he planted a hand on your waist, holding you still.

"Is this what you wanted, my love?" He whispered in your left ear, trailing his tongue along the sensitive lobe. His other hand was planted against the bark, holding him in place.

"It-it’s what I wanted" you whimpered softly, your mate gave a satisfied smirk and then he was upon you, claiming your lips in a passionate kiss.

This time, he didn't hesitate to let his tongue explore your mouth, to dance against yours. He let out a low groan.

His arms slid up your body, one hand traveling to the back of your neck, the other back to your waist pressing him even closer until you could feel every inch of him... and still, he wanted more.

You moaned into the kiss while moving your hands to rest on his shoulders, The kiss turned more intense, and Neteyam's hands traveled down the backs of your legs, lifting you up.

He purred at the contact, his breath hitching once more against you. Slowly, he started to lower you back so that you were lying on the ground, him above above.

Neteyam continued to let his hands roam across your body. This time, however, he wasn't just simply skimming along your skin... rather, his hands slid under your woven top to touch and grope your breasts. When he felt you shiver and moan against his touch, he knew his plan was working.

Your mate leaned pressing a kiss down against your neck. You moaned his name as your back slightly arched off the ground, He let out a light chuckle and grinned, then pulled your top off to reveal more skin for him to explore.

"You're beautiful when you blush," he murmured, letting his fangs nip at your neck. He gripped onto you waist but not painful, and his tongue left a trail of kisses down your chest.

Soft whimpers left you as you layed your head back relishing in this moment. The sounds you were making pleased him, and he couldn't help but grin in satisfaction... but he didn't stop there.

Eventually, he removed his hands from your waist placing them now by the sides of your head. His tongue started a long trail back up your chest, ending at the crook of your neck... and then he stopped, waiting.

Shuddering you moved your head to the side giving him complete access to your neck, It was all the incentive he needed.

As soon as he got the desired amount of exposed skin, he went at it, burying his head in your neck and nibbling, licking, and, biting. He could tell his pace was getting more aggressive, but it wasn't anything you needed to be scared of...

It was quite the contrary, as your reaction told him that it was more of a turn on for you. You moaned his name as your back arched, your hands now moving to his back digging your nails into him.

He chuckled at that, knowing it would only make you dig your nails deeper. Without a moment to spare, he lifted you up and carried you in his arms, only to set you back down on the ground. But this time, with your back towards him.

"Hands on the tree" he demanded. You gulped but obeyed placing your hands on the tree. You heard him growl in pleasure, and could imagine the smile he was wearing.

"Good girl." Neteyam stepped back for a moment, admiring the sight... and then he got his hands busy with you again, his fingertips tracing along your shoulders, neck, back, hips... till he finally unties your loincloth throwing it somewhere off to the side.

He skillfully removed his own before lining his tip up with your entrance, slowly he pushed inside groaning as your velvety walls clenched around him.

Your nails dug into the bark of the tree as your mate set a brutal pace. Your moans filled the area along with skin slapping against eachother, Neteyam tugged on your kuru making you hiss at the pain mixed with pleasure.

“T-tsa-heylu ma’teyam..” You choked out as his cock started brushing against your g spot repeatedly. Chuckling he obeyed your wish bringing his own kuru infront of him connecting them.

You groaned as the pleasure became more heightened, your legs threatened to give out. One of his arms wrapped around your waist while the other moved to you throat gently squeezing.

“Eywa paskalin…you feel so good wrapped around me” your mate whimpered next to your right ear. He quickened his pace slamming roughly into your already aching core making you reach your climax.

A silent scream left your lips as you squirted coating his lower abdomen and legs with your juices. Even as you came he didn’t stop, he couldn’t.

When you felt Neteyam wrap his tail around your thigh you knew he was close, after a few more thrusts he bit down onto your shoulder as his cum spilled inside of your womb.

The feeling of him throbbing inside your cunt mixed with him biting you sent you over the edge once again. Your both still breathing heavily as he carefully pulled out of you, you whined at the loss but quickly relaxed as he pried your nails from the tree and layed you down onto the ground once again.

He grabbed a cloth from the little bag you always carried and cleaned the mess between your legs as gentle as he could knowing you were sensitive.

After he did himself he put your loincloth back on along with your top as well as his own loincloth before laying down behind you pulling you flush against his chest. “My good girl.. nga yawne lu oer” he whispered in your ear.

“Nga yawne lu oer Ma’Teyam” you smiled before sleep overcame you. Neteyam placed a kiss on your cheek as he too fell asleep holding you.

#avatar the way of water #adult neteyam #james cameron avatar #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyamssyulang #avatar pandora #comments really appreciated #follow #neteyam smut #lunaskinktober2023 #avatar kinktober #neteyam x avatar!reader

[tellmeallaboutit]

Raphael/F!Tav: belle de jour

Summary: Raphael obsesses over his sleeping Archduchess wife.

Rating: Mature / Explicit

Trigger warnings: somnophilia (and therefore dub-con), obsessive thoughts, paranoia, power-lust, jealousy, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship, dark Raphael.

Wanted, wanted: little mouse. 

Hair: blonde. Lips: scarlet.

Where is she hiding in his house? 

Why are you hiding, darling? (*)

****

There she lay.

There she lay, his temptress: face down, her hair unbraided, her body naked but for the lace of her knickers, on their enormous four-poster bed.

There he stood.

There he stood at the door, rapt. The red pillow, the excessive, creamy silk pillow she lay on was so soft and deep that her face was almost hidden, but he could still see the high curve of her cheek, her small flushed ear. There was something innocent about the way her legs were splayed, childlike about the way her hands were tucked under her breasts.

Her innocence is nothing but a sweet little lie, and this sweet little thing doth lie, oh doth she lie.

His Archduchess lay there, passive, soft, his belle de jour, his sleeping beauty. A delicate snore escapes her lips. Such a perfectly mortal thing, a defenseless thing, an irresistible bait. 

His Archduchess is elsewhere, in realms where he is barred from entry. Scarcely anything escapes his control now; yet her dreams are her sanctuary. He watches her inhale and exhale in slumber's grasp, he notes the rhythmic ebb and flow of her lush bosom's rise and fall.

Her eroticism is his oblivion.

Her skin, oh her skin, is pure liquid silk and it's so soft to touch and utterly void of even the smallest blemish. He yearns to see this vixen flayed bloody raw to strip her perfect skin of its tyrannical hold over him.

He kneels before her splayed legs like a suppliant, but it's futile to beg for mercy from her: for she, his Archduchess, is bereft of mercy – her cruelty dwarfs his own.

He touches the satin fabric of her undergarments which are dampened by her desire. “What do you dream about, mouse?", he asks, his fangs nibbling the tender terrain of her thighs. "Whom do you dream about?". 

She remains silent, ever the tease, ever the provocateur, and he feels a rush of desire which is almost painful.

Who could she possibly be dreaming about that would cause the wet stain on that beige satin, that nymph harlot of his?

He kneels and he pulls away her knickers to probe her, and his tongue encounters her wetness, thick and syrupy - she is in the middle of her lunar cycle. His body jolts at this realization and aching need - she is fertile - she commands him to perform his duties.

More sons, strong, powerful hellspawns, more sons to pit against each other, to ensure the survival of only the ones who prove their mettle, to ensure his legacy for eons to come. Daughters bring naught but a handful of cubs, his sons will have thousands of women swell for them.

Her eyes flicker half-open and all he can see is the stark white. 

“Raphael?” she asks in her dream, as if not sure; and why is she not? Who else does the vixen expect to lay between her legs in their bedroom?

He lullabies her with his soporific enchantment, not ready to part with the power that is being her voyeur and violator.

“Sleep, my darling wife”, he hushes, and her face softens and her lips part and she tosses her head back and lets a small, child-like whimper. 

He showers his sleeping beauty with lascivious caresses, the skin of her thighs gooseflesh under his fingertips. He is generous with his attention, tasting her juices as if they hold the secret to who occupies her thoughts, as if his tongue could coax the truth from her. 

She whimpers and moans but betrays nothing, her lips and mind sealed. 

She need not tell; he has a vast imagination.

He imagines catching her in flagranti with his own brother, their bodies obscenely knotted, her small hands grabbing his spiral horns and her slim ankles forming a vice around Valefar’s back. He imagines: her crying out vulgarities, his brother flicking his tail in delight. 

Oh, that whore of Babylon, that Messalina, Circe, Jezebel, oh, his bane and downfall, hiding behind her veneer of porcelain skin and rose-tinted nipples and the scent of honeydew.

Wildly, he pursues the shadow of her infidelity. He positions her supine and unfurls her under his weight. Her transgressions, so vivid in his imagination, make a savage out of him.

He imagines how he decapitates his brother before her very eyes and stakes claim on her beside the still-warm corpse. Oh, would she whine and sob and garble apologies and plead for mercy, oh, would he give her none.

He sheaths himself inside of her, in this silky soft scabbard, which is his right, and she gasps and winces and she utters a soft ‘ow!‘, and he tastes the pang of pain off her lips, her Boticellian pink lips, the color of raw rose.

His claws tug at her skin, marring her, and this is his right too. Tears form in the corners of her eyes, and oh! such tears she has! never before had he seen tears of that size and brilliance. His tongue pilfers them from her skin, to which she responds with a slight toss of her head.

He punishes her for the phantoms of any other that might have haunted her golden-tressed little head, and her lax and defenseless body shakes with the cadence of her chastisement.

Many dream of pressing their weight onto her, oh, of that he has no doubt. Other devils covet her, and rightly so; let them squirm in the throes of envy and desire, let them gag on their impotence, and let them watch, for they will never have her because she is his and only his. 

She dares not dream of any other. She dares not think of any other. She dares not look. She dares not dream…

Oh, but she does, the little serpent, the viper. What does she do when he does not look? He recalls his father's frayed lips whispering too near her round little ear as Mephistopheles dubs her his cherished daughter-in-law, and she musters a forced smile. He remembers her overdone laugh at Mammon’s tasteless jest, eyes darting. What does she hide, what does she plot? 

He thrusts her open, he lays her bare, his fingers and tongue and manhood know naught the limits of his possession, and yet the only truth his interrogation elicits are her soft moans.

Oh how cruel she is to him! Always has been. Mocking him even when asleep with that La Gioconda smile of hers. Man covets; woman is coveted. This is a woman's singular yet significant edge. Woman knows of her power and will abuse it given the opportunity.

After all, what's power for if not to abuse? 

He seizes her by the wrists and tries to kiss her, but she tilts her head to the side and his lips meet only her cheekbone. He stares into her soul taking in her lust, pride, ambition; but her soul is not his; it's hers.

Yet.

"I adore you, my little mouse", he breathes into her sleeping face. These insipid, cliche, mortal words mean nothing but he wants to taste them and they taste bitter. He thinks surely now, she would snap out of reverie just to open her lips into a scornful laugh at his confession. 

But no, she sleeps, an expression of capricious boredom on her languid features, her cheeks flushed from his kisses.

She will use this weakness against him. The others will too, those others who always wanted to see him fail, ever since birth. All those others waiting for their turn to mock him, cheering for his downfall.

Weakness is a contagious disease, the most contagious of all diseases. Let it inside his Layer, his domain and his marriage and watch them crumble and bury him underneath.

His Archduchess despises weakness, and so she must, or she wouldn’t be his Archduchess. She cannot know of any of his weaknesses, and she will not. The failures on the Eastern Blood War Front, the rebellions, the debt chokehold Mammon has on him, the legions who still pledge their allegiance more readily to his father than to him.

She cannot know that or... his fears.

What fears?

He has none. He fears not. He, the Archdevil of Avernus, is feared. He claimed his power, he took his thrones, he forced the first Layer to his knees; he needs but to maintain it, to control it, to…

Never let her go.

She will never dare to leave him. She knows that. There is just one escape from him and that is death.

“Do you know that, mouse?”, he says, his thrusts underscoring his question, his hands around her alabaster neck.

She stirs. She moans. He hushes; she should sleep. So he could tell her all the things he shouldn't.

If only he would just have more power. More souls under his command, more treasures in his coffers, more armies marching at his beck and call, more layers of Hells—these are what he needs to truly possess her.

Power is the only thing women ever respect, mortal or not. He's seen this tale play out a thousand times; they chatter of love but only kneel before the mighty. Should a stronger contender emerge, should he exhibit any frailty, they...

No. No. She will never leave him. Nobody can give her what he can.

He feels her walls flutter around him and he knows: she bewitched him.That's why her sweat, her tears, her juices taste so divine, that’s why he is hopelessly shackled to what is between her thighs. She bewitched him to try to weaken him and…

She. Will. Pay. For. It.

"You are becoming a heel, son", he hears his father's acidic voice; he hears it always, every day, a never-ending reminder of his shortcomings. "Let her taste your whip, let her taste it daily, or she will make you a slave to hers”.

The old coot is right. He ordered her to get his firstborn back in their house; and she made her little face, and she pleaded “you promised, Raphael, please, you promised”, and what did he say?

Nothing. He is becoming a heel, a wretched lovesick fool.

He let her get away with too much. What hasn't he given her? The Archduchess swims in riches, his beautiful, passionate, cruel, and despotic mistress who wantonly changes her whims every passing day.

His most prized possession, the crown jewel of his hoard, and yet this treasure thirsts for more of her own.

Women.

They never have quite enough, no matter how much you give them. Glasia sits on piles of gemstones, Fiera has her own temples upon temples of souls, Baalphegor got an entire plane as her tribute. Yet, is their thirst ever quenched? 

Never. There is always another man who could give them more. He needs to compete with everyone, every single day, and he needs to make sure his Archduchess has more today than there was yesterday, so she would never, ever... He dances to the tune of the infernal chant, the empty promise of infinite growth: more, more, more.

He needs more from her too, and he takes more, hips grinding with a savage rhythm, forcing his wife down into the mattress.

You can only hurt those you love, and they are the only ones who can truly hurt you back.

His thoughts wander to her whip, he thirsts for her strike, longing for her to lay pain upon him, longing for his Venus in Furs to mark him as her captive, to see the passion flare in her sharp blue eyes as she raises her unforgiving hand. Oh, cruel thing, cruel, capricious thing, his little mouse. 

Pain is their shared delicacy, both of them the finest of gourmets, and they spoon-feed it to each other every night.

He unleashes the hot poison of his loins into her and her toes twitch, her mouth agape, and there's a strand of saliva down her chin and that too he claims as his own. His thumb rubs her between the legs until he sees right through her body to watch her womb contract; once, twice, thrice, the little ripples through her body, and he is satisfied with her satisfaction. 

He is more charitable than he thinks.

He draws his tongue across her damp brow and whispers words of love that would never see the light of the day. She's already basking in admiration and flattery; no need to slake her insatiable ego any further.

The Archduchess sighs and curls away from him, knees to her chest, leaving him to stare at the cleft of her buttocks and her slit moist with his seed.

She will wake up come morning with a dull ache between her legs and might even have the audacity to reprimand him for his nightly fervor but he knows, he knows, ever since the first day he made her his own: 

She loves it. 

(*)  A play on the poem "Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze" by V. Nabokov.

The still is from the movie "Sleeping Beauty", 2011.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #baldur’s gate 3 #dark raphael #somnophilia #dub-con #raphael / tav #raphael x tav #raphael x oc #bg3 fanfiction

[dracoxsworld]

ARRANGED - “Take care of you” - Draco M. X Reader - PART 6

Draco was very busy the next couple of days. He went off looking for a new house for you both to live in. He insisted you be apart of the process, but you wanted to stay home instead. The idea of you living on your own officially slightly stressed you out.

You had always been provided things you needed; not that you doubted Draco couldn’t/wouldn’t provide for you, but things would be a lot more different now. Your mind was still mixed up after all that had happened; you’ve felt completely left behind in life, you felt like you were a background character in your own movie.

You and Draco got rid of all of the things that reminded you of Nicholas. Including a Daily Prophet snippet:

The Daily Prophet

Nicholas Heckons, a past lover of Y/N Malfoy speaks out against her current husband, Draco Malfoy. He claims she’s “brainwashed” and “manipulated”.

He also claims Malfoy is “violent” and “short-tempered” also very controlling of Y/N. Here’s the latest word.

“I feel bad for them both really, Y/N, stupid and naive. Draco will have to get used to that soon, really,” Nicholas Heckons stated to our press.

“I suppose they’re each others perfect match, I’ve tried to convince Y/N that Draco is a load of rubbish, but of course, she cheated on me with him. I wouldn’t expect her to listen to me.” claimed Heckons.

Well there you have it, folks. Are Draco and Y/N a match made in Heaven; or Hell?

“Bloody Git.” Draco mumbled to himself, trashing the magical moving newspaper into a trash bag.

“Don’t sweat it. He’s probably embarrassed.” You shrugged, tossing an old Quidditch jersey of Nicholas’. "It's bullshit. He's a load of bullshit." Draco swore. You walked over to him, crouching to his level, as he was sitting on the floor. You ran your hands through his hair, and smiled at him.

All the anger seemed to slip away from him, he smiled, too.

"You never told me if you found a new house," You stated to Draco. His eyes lit up again, and he took your hand and stood up, pulling you up with him. "I wanted to show you, Y/N. I know you say this stuff causes some stress, but I found one I've fallen in love with, I just want you to be in love with it, too." Draco confessed. You took a deep breath, and looked at him. You nodded. "Well, let's see."

Draco's hands quickly shot down to your waist, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, "Dray!" You gasped from surprise. You could hear his charming laughter. He walked with you over his shoulder to the bedroom door, where he set you down. He motioned for you to go out to the hallway of the manor, you both walked down the stairs and out to the entryway.

One of the employees of Lucius’ stops you both. His dark smile creeps on his pale boney face. “And where will you two be off to?” He croaks.

“We’re looking at the home I’ve picked.” Draco said sternly.

"How do I know you and this blood traitor aren't planning another escape?" The guard asked.

"Are you using your brain? Father has told you all to back off, we've gained his trust," Draco scoffed. The guard balled his fists in anger. "Now, do we have a problem, or do I need to get my father?"

The guard rolled his eyes, and stepped aside. "I am keeping my eye on you, Malfoy."

"That's Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy to you." Draco spat, as he took your hand and drag out out the front door. You finally could take a deep breath.

"That son of a bitch. We've travelled without guards before, what the hell was he thinking?" Draco huffed. "I'm not sure Dray," You sighed. Draco smiled down at you as you walked towards the Manor's extravagant gate. "I love it when you call me that."

You and Draco had apparated to the new home he had picked. It was gorgeous, made entirely out of brick, just like the Malfoy Manor. There was a tall, dark green fence surrounding the home, a large front yard, perfect to decorate with lush landscape, like large trees and bushes. You assumed there'd be a large backyard as well, you already dreamed of having a perfect garden, like Narcissa's. Draco could have all the flowers he wanted.

"What do you think?" Draco asked, smirking down at you, admiring the view as well. "Draco, it's- it's perfect." You voiced. "I mean, we could really build a life here, what did your father think?"

Draco shrugged, his hands in his pockets, looking at the greying-clouds. It smelled like rain. "He didn't react much, I am not even sure why he accompanies me." He admitted. You looked up at him, with affection in your eyes. Draco had clearly lacked a healthy father figure; and he's coming to terms with it and unfortunately, dealing with the aftermath.

When you're a kid, you tend to not notice things you are missing in your childhood. Thing's that are essential, almost nourishing for your growth emotionally. Draco was thrown to be in the Dark Lord's army at such a young age; even before that, forced under beliefs that might've not been his natural and true mindset. These were things you wished you'd realized before. He has a thick wall surrounding him; as thick and protective as it might seem, it didn't take much for it to melt away like ice. His silver eyes were glassy, he seemed stressed. You were hoping moving into your own home; just you and him may help his uneasiness.

"He may just miss having you around," You alluded; not sounding entirely truthful. Draco scoffed. You bit your bottom lip, but he laughed light heartedly. You laughed too, to avoid awkwardness.

"Unfortunately, a family is still moving out, we can't see the inside." Draco said gloomily. You could tell he cherished this home; and you did as well. It was just a waiting game. "Shall we go back to the Manor?" He proposed. You smiled and interlinked your arm in his and nodded. You both apparated back to the Manor.

-

You both walked into the Manor from door to find Lucius and Narcissa talking. They seemed very grave. Lucius looked at you and Draco, with a destructive look in his eyes. "Father." Draco greeted without emotion. "Draco. I've heard from one of my guards you have some sort of, oh; what should I say, Narcissa? Attitude problem?" Lucius recollected. Draco inhaled. "He is the one who gave us a problem." You spoke up. Draco's head snapped in your direction, his arm guided you to be behind him. You reluctantly obliged.

"Bark and no bite, Ms. Y/N?" Lucius chuckled mockingly. "Y/N is speaking the truth, father." Draco stated. His ears were turning red, and a vein in his neck that always pops when he's angry was visible.

"That guard was being a pain in the ass, accusing us of planning an escape!"

"I don't care what he was fucking saying, you must learn respect, Draco!" Lucius' voiced echoed off of the Manor walls. Draco flinched, Narcissa winced at the noise level of his voice, looking empathetic towards Draco and I.

Lucius stayed quiet for a moment. He inhaled a deep breath. "I clearly need to rethink you both leaving the Manor. You clearly aren't ready." Lucius voiced, turning away from you and Draco, facing the fireplace.

"What the hell? You can't keep us here forever. We are not your prisoners." I blurt out. Lucius swiftly turns to my direction and draws his wand, pointing it towards me. "You! You are the one who was venomous to my son's mind!." You drew your wand out as well, but Lucius performed an Expelliarmus charm, disarming you. You gulped and backed up, Draco immediately jumped in front of you, guarding you.

"That is enough!" Draco bellowed, his hand tightly wrapped around the base of his wand. Sparks flew out of Lucius' wand, you immediately recognized that it was the crucio curse.

"Protego totalum!" Draco cried, and blocked the curse.

"Lucius he is your son!" Narcissa bawled, throwing her body onto his arm. He looked down at his desperate lover, begging him to stop the violence against their own blood.

"I wasn't aiming for him, Narcissa."

Lucius lurched towards you and Draco. Draco's eyes were dark, looking up at his father. Lucius promptly shoved him out of the way, Draco toppled onto the floor.

"Draco!" You screamed, reaching out for him, but Lucius grabbed you by the base of your neck, pulling you towards him.

"Crucio!" Exclaimed Lucius, his wand pointing towards you.

"Y/N!" Draco yelled, but it was too late.

It felt like electricity was shooting through your body; you felt like you were on fire, as if a firework had been set off inside of your body. Traveling through each limb, making it excruciatingly painful. Your body jolted to the floor. You tried to scream and bellow in pain; but you couldn't. Your body folded onto itself.

"You son of a bitch!" Draco yelled again, he ran towards you, Lucius had his wand pointed towards him. "Leave her!" He began to say another spell until Narcissa's voice rang across the room, "Petrificus Totalus!"

You flinched, expecting you to be paralyzed, and unable to defend yourself, on top of being in this amount of intense pain, but you heard a large thump to the floor.

You felt so frail, you could barely lift your head up off of the floor, only to see Lucius completely paralyzed.

Narcissa was still from the casting position she was in previously, trying to catch her breath.

"He needs.... He needs time children, please go up to your room. Y/N, dear, are you okay?" She said, all in-between long, slow breaths.

"I don't know.." You admitted honestly.

“Draco, I will take care of you father here, please take care of Y/N.” Narcissa waved you both off.

Draco lifted you off of the floor, bridal style. You instantly cling to him. You look up and see a tear rolling down his cheek. A bruise was forming on his face from where he had hit the floor. “Draco, your face,” You said softly, your hand landing in his bruised cheek bone. “I am the least of my worries, Y/N. Especially right now.” Draco replied. His grip on your tightened. You arrived to your bedroom. Draco gently placed you on the bed.

He quickly went to his dresser, rummaging through what sounded like glass bottles. Draco finally found a small bottle containing a thin, red liquid. He handed it to you. You were still weak, and slowly raised your hand up to grab it.

“What is this?” You asked with a rasp to your voice.

“Wiggenweld.” Draco said, he seemed uptight. “A healing potion.” He added. You nodded and popped off the cork. You brought the bottle to your lips and downed the potion. A warm, numbing feeling went over you; then the numbing had gone away. Your pain was gone, you were no longer weak.

“I feel so much better, thank you.” You bummed to the platinum boy.

Draco seemed to be spaced out. He wasn’t facing towards you, he was instead looking outside of his window.

“It shouldn’t have even happened.” Draco stressed. “I should’ve been to take the curse.”

You shook your head. “Dray, I’m fine.” you had insisted, getting up from the bed, spinning around slowly to show him you’re safe. Draco stepped towards you, and placed his hands on your waist. His silver eyes meet yours. You’re unable to speak, like you’re in a trance.

“Your protection is my responsibility,” Draco began. “From now on, I promise I will protect you, but now I need to take care of you.” His voice was low, it was in a tone you’d never heard before.

“I need you to take care of me, Dray.” You say seductively. Your hands land on his chest, his hand remain on your sides, but are now slowly running up and down.

He looked at your eyes, then your lips. He held you closer to him, tightening his grip. You smiled up at him and stood up on your tip toes and connected your lips to his. It wasn’t quick, and simple like the ones you’ve had in the past. It was slow, and sensual. Draco was hungry for you, his teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you gasped lightly. He took this as an opportunity to slip his tongue toward yours. He backed up up onto the bed again.

You felt goosebumps on every inch of your body. Draco hovered over you.

“Let me take care of you.”

[moonlight-prose]

✧ ALONE WITH YOU ✧

a/n: it's day twenty-four right? its that day? i took two days off to catch my breath and not completely burn myself out. but now i'm back and ready to kill the final week! jake lockley always has an unhealthy hold on my heart so i had to give him something filthy and delicious. you can't tell me he doesn't enjoy this. it's canon in my head.

day twenty-four - sex toys + orgasm control | kinktober 2023

summary: "jake loved to see you like this. completely lost to the waves of bliss he could wrought upon your body, and that alone made you relish in it."

word count: 1.1k+

pairing: jake lockley x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, sex toys, orgasm control, edging, cumplay sort of, jake lockley cause he needs a warning, masturbation.

The sheets slid between your fingers as you gripped them. A slight sheen of sweat covered your body, causing you to practically glisten in the low light of the bedroom. It was hot. Enough to nearly make you dizzy, but that seemed to only add another layer to the never ending sensations that wracked your body.

Your chest heaved as you gasped in breath after breath. An expression of bliss painted across your face. Beautiful enough to rival the pieces of art that hung in museums. That alone made him want to shift just a bit closer. To watch the way your eyes rolled back when he pressed the button higher.

“Fuck!” you cried out, back bowing off the bed and a moan caught in the middle of your throat.

The trails of your orgasm were beginning to fade. Pulling away from your body and leaving you a panting mess once more. You weren’t sure how long you’d been there. Right on the edge of pure ecstasy—never once toppling off. And he knelt beside you, cock grasped in his palm and the controls open on his phone. The small lush that was buried in you sent vibrations pinging through your body—dragging sounds you’d never made before to the surface.

“That’s four,” he said hoarsely, hand sliding up your thigh, fingers trailing along the marks along your skin.

That simple touch alone had you keening up into him, your mouth dropping open in a low moan. You felt torn apart. As if the breath was ripped directly from your lungs with each new climb towards your release. It made you shake. Fingers scrambling for purchase along the sheets in the hopes that that alone would ground you. Jake loved to see you like this. Completely lost to the waves of bliss he could wrought upon your body, and that alone made you relish in it.

Knowing he was seconds away from losing it just from watching you.

“You’re doing so good mi vida,” he murmured, leaning down and taking a peaked nipple into his hot mouth.

You sobbed, fingers digging into his curls as he sucked at you. Sending sparks down your spine—that heady sensation you’d been craving now returning with full force.

“Jake,” you whimpered, nails scraping along his scalp. He shivered at your touch, hand pumping his cock quickly—a moan reverently pressed to your breast. “Por favor, mi amor.”

The plea was soft, almost whispered, but he felt as if you’d shouted it as loud as humanly possible. The echo punching him in the chest. Setting his teeth on the side of your breast, he pushed the button up. The wet slap of his hand now drifting up to your ears and setting your nerves on fire.

The vibration returned with full force. So much so it knocked the breath out of your body—wrenching a cry from your throat. Your legs shook like a fucking earthquake. Body wracked with constant sparks as something devastating built within you. It never stopped. Never let up the constant bliss and you could feel yourself teetering. The need to cum nearly overwhelming you, but something held you back.

You knew what you needed. As did he.

Speeding up his movements, his hips bucked up into his hand, lips finding yours in a messy kiss. Your teeth clacked against his, nails digging into his arm, but Jake couldn’t feel the slight pinch of pain. He was just as lost as you were. If not more. The control he held over your body nearly broke you in half. Took each piece of your being and scattered it through his body, sealing it up in his heart like a safe.

Something ached in your chest. A raw depraved feeling that ate at the love you had for him. Devouring you whole and begging for more. It wanted him. Begged you to keep whatever love he pressed so lovingly into you, and you accepted like a needy soul. Unable to survive without his touch—without him.

“Wait for me,” he gasped, tongue licking along your bottom lip. “Wanna cum with you.”

Your walls fluttered around the toy, slick leaking from your body and dripping onto his sheets. It would stain, but Jake couldn’t care less. He was lost in the warmth of your body, the slightly salty taste of your skin. He fucked his fist with a fervor that had you salivating. Your eyes latched onto the sight of his throat, veins extended and begging you to sink your teeth into the soft skin there.

“Baby,” you gasped, thighs trembling. Your release had built so high it was beginning to fucking hurt. But you could see the desperation on his face.

His mouth dropped open, a guttural moan pressed to your skin as he finally reached that peak you were so desperate for. Tossing the phone to the side, he finally dipped his fingers into your slick. Quickly rubbing at your clit and watching in rapture as you screamed—eyes rolling back. The steady high vibration of the toy was a different kind of torture.

“Cum for me mi vida,” he whispered, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip.

Your body went taut, a sob of his name clawing up your throat as you gushed. He wrenched the toy of your pulsing cunt, shoving two fingers into you to feel the way you clenched around him. It dragged you even higher. The way he curled right into the spot that had your body arching off the bed. Fingers digging into his skin so hard you drew blood to the surface.

The hot splash of his cum was warm against your thigh as he fell over the edge with you. A shout being pressed into your throat, fingers rapidly pumping into you. Pleasure wracked your body sending you into a high you were afraid you’d never leave. But his tongue against your collarbones brought you back slightly, the wet heat of it causing your walls to flutter around his fingers.

“So pretty,” he mumbled, sliding his hand through your slick, gathering your cum on his fingers and trailing them up your stomach. “I could watch you do that all day.”

You sighed, spreading your thighs even wider to give him room. “Amor,” you breathed.

“In fact…” He took your nipple into his mouth, letting his spit trail along your skin until you shined. “I think I will.”

“Jake,” you started, fingers digging into his curls.

He shifted until he was lying between your thighs, mouth directly over your sopping cunt. “Tranquilo bebita,” he murmured, spreading you with his fingers. “We’re just getting started.”

#jake lockley x f!reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x y/n #jake lockley smut #jake lockley #moon knight smut #my writing #kinktober 2023

[cleopatra-x]

Could you do aemond with a whore for the first time/mommy kink maybe?

A Taste (18+)

Pairing | Aemond Targaryen x prostitute!reader

Warnings | SEXUAL CONTENT - MINORS DNI; aemond is rude, mommy kink, tit sucking, slight humping (wc: 1.1k)

Note | My first ever request! Hopefully I met your standards.

Aemond sprawled on the plush bed, his usual stoic expression present on his face.

He was waiting on one of the famed whores to come to his lush quarters. Aegon gifted her for his name-day. He did this every year and every year Aemond declined the filthy offer. He saw it as something to look down upon.

But this time around, he caved in.

Rhaenyra and her bastards were back in Kings Landing. He loathed how they got away with everything but he was scolded for the simplest of things. He needed a distraction. And what better distraction than a skilled whore (as Aegon would say).

He palmed his cock, ready for some sort of release, lilac eyes flying to the door. A soft knock echoed on the door. The whore bowed politely, thick curls of brown cascading down. “Your grace.”

Her voice sounded so innocent. Way too innocent considering her occupation.

Aemond commanded, “Come here girl.”

“Yes, your grace.”

The pillow girl wore a gauzy purple dress, thick thighs and full bare tits underneath. She slowly approached the end of his bed, lifting a leg to crawl before Aemond stopped her, “I didn’t say you could join me. Kneel of the floor.”

Her face remained placid, nodding. “yes, my lord.”

Aemond crept to the edge of the bed, spreading his long legs on each side of the kneeling girl. Her wide brown eyes peered up at him, long dark lashes fluttering.

The little smirk on the whores face was causing anger to flare in his chest. Aemond snapped, “Is there something entertaining little slut?”

She giggled, eyes flashing in mirth. “I’m just very grateful to be graced with your presence.” Before Aemond could respond she urged. “Let me take care of you.”

The one-eyed prince’s jaw ticked. He needed to make a good impression. Last thing he wanted was for the whore to gossip among her friends and humiliate him.

Aemond gripped a thick of her messy curls, her face showing slight pleasure. He rasped, “What do you suggest then?” Her full lips widened into a grin, hands sliding up Aemond’s leg. He squinted his good eye, tugging harder, demanding a verbal response.

She bit down on her lip, “Let me take control and you’ll see stars, my king.”

King. He liked that. His cock seemed to be in agreement.

He wondered for a slight second if Aegon told her to say this things, but in that moment he couldn’t find himself to truly care.

“Very well. Work your whore magic.”

She suddenly stood, untying her strings that Aemond hadn’t noticed before. He must have been too invested I her heavy tits. She rasped out, a devious look in her pretty eyes, “Would you like me to undress you, my King?”

Aemond groaned, “Of course. What did you expect?”

He slightly regretted being rude when all she did was ask for permission.

She nodded, climbing onto the bed, sliding off her thin excuse for a dress. Aemond eyes were drawn to her peaked brown nipples, the heavy droop of flesh, stretch marks laying on top of them. His cock throbbed painfully in his trousers.

She laughed again, “Want a feel? Let me strip you first.”

Aemond somehow was pushed back, elbows cushioning his fall as the woman untied and pulled at his rich silk and wool, emblazoned with green. All he could do was stare at her swaying breast, mouth growing wet. The Prince never felt this desire but he wanted it so bad. So bad it almost hurt.

“Lift,” She ordered.

Aemond lifted his hips for her to shuck down his woolen breeches. The boots had already been discarded earlier and his tunic must have been removed along the way. His cock lay on his pale belly, already flushed a deep red and dribbling pearls of white.

Her brown curls shined while she climbed atop his hips. The wetness of her cunt shifted against Aemond’s own desire, making him whimper. He immediately tried to cover it with a clearing of his throat but the damage was done, she laughed at him.

Her blonde curls shifted and shined while she climbed atop his hips. The wetness of her cunt shifted against Viserys own desire, making him whimper. He tried to cover it with a clearing of his throat but the damage was done, she chuckled at him.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he pouted snarled.

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” She caressed his small waist, “Would you like to suck my tits now, pretty baby?”

Pretty baby.

“Please,” he whimpered.

She wrapped lean arms around his shoulders and shoved her creamy tits forward. Aemond made a broken noise— overwhelmed on where to begin. The pretty whore thumbed one of his sharp cheekbones cooing, “How about the left? Poor little dragon. I’ll take care of you.”

He wanted that so bad. Aemond had to always controlling. Couldn’t relax. This was close enough to realization. The Targaryen sealed his lips around a brown nipple and suckled eagerly, hands coming up to maw at the abundant flesh on her chest.

She whimpered and writhed against his weeping cock. “That’s so good, get your fill sweet boy.”

Aemond whined, sucked, and licked eagerly. He whimpered at the soft feeling of her heavy teats. His balls suddenly felt very full and achy, sensitive to the point that it hurt.

“M-mummy,” he whimpered, totally lost to the desire clouding his mind.

“Yes, my sweet boy, suck all you want,” she replied while carding her hands through his silken waves. The angel rubbed her slick cunt against his cock, coating it in sweet warmth. Aemond gasped as he pulled back, both hands on her ample chest.

He dove onto the right nipple, neglected and ready for the taking. He thumbed at the other

one, delightfully slick and puffy from his ministrations. The whore moaned softly, encouraging him even more.

Aemond shuddered and cried around a peaked bud, “O-oh gods, mummy, please! Don’t stop.”

He mewled and sniveled, shoving his face between her heavy teats. All Aemond could do was rut and chant, “Mummy, mummy, mummy, mmh!” She rolled her hips along his length in smooth glides. Aemond wailed in ecstasy, his overfull balls drawing up painfully.

She groaned at his words, “That’s it baby, give it to me. Make mommy proud.”

“I-I will! Oh fuck!” he cried. Aemond shook with hefty sobs as he finished. It almost hurt how much he painted her cunt with his spend. The one-eyed prince felt his muscles grow limp. He couldn’t be bothered to remove himself from her tits.

The unnamed woman gently moved off of his lap, settling herself in the center of his plush bed. She opened her arms, silently inviting him to lay atop of him and so he did.

They basked in silence, allowing their heartbeats to calm. The blinding lust disappeared from his eyes, and suddenly he regretted everything that happened.

The whore must’ve seemed his unease and ran her fingers through his hair. “You needn’t worry, my king.” She pressed a kiss to his temple, “This stays between us.”

He nodded, instantly believing that she would keep her promise. He finally relaxed, forgetting the stress of the cruel world for once.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x reader #fic rec #aemond x you #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #hotd x reader #prince aemond targaryen #pro aemond targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd fandom #hotd smut

[saylor-twift]

alright, so first off. This is my first time doing a req to a creator/author/writer I admire so much so hopefully I won't cause any confusion— ">-< but could you uhh do a wanderer x reader unrequited love? (eg: wanderer prefers someone over reader) I really want more angst to read and also with this topic. You don't have to take this request if you're not comfortable!

(❄️. SHON)

Yes yes I can!! This is such a coincidence cause I just recently made a very similar request to one of my mutuals haha. Recently I’ve lowkey had this brain rot of Wanderer having feelings for the traveler (Lumine) because i’ve been reading so much Scaralumi lmfao and it lowkey makes me kinda salty even tho i love them to death so that’s kinda the direction this will take :) Thanks so much for asking!!

side note: I’m so fking angry i literally had this whole thing proofread and totally ready like an hour and a half ago when my tumblr fucking shuts down and deletes all my work and I had already deleted it off the google doc so I could paste the version from tumblr so i had to go restore the google doc and ughhh it caused me an extra hour of work cause i had to proofread everything again. anyways, please enjoy :)

Live is to Love, as Love is to Hurt

word count: 6801

also heads up for anyone who doesn’t know, I like to refer to Wanderer as Kunimitsu cause that’s the name I gave him :)

Everyone knows, or should know at least, that when one decides to accept something, anything, that they are also agreeing to take on each and every single thing that comes with it. To look forward to the rebirth of spring means also accepting that the barren, frosty breath of winter will indeed return, turning the once lush gardens of the world into sharp, jagged blades of grass and trees devoid of green. The same is true when you decide to accept somebody into your life. You must know that no matter how benevolent and perfect to you they may seem, fate has its mishaps, and doesn’t always play a fair game. And yet there’s one more thing, one might think after learning all these things that the way they will be better off is to never take risks. And supposedly yes, maybe you won’t get hurt, but you also won’t live. Because to live is to love, to live is to hurt, to live is to heal.

This current chapter of life feels strikingly similar to one of those slice of life novels you’d expect to find at the bookstore on the corner of the street. Only it wasn’t something you read whilst sipping tea on a sunday afternoon, it’s more like the type of heart-breaking piece of literature you finish late on friday nights, the kind that leaves you restless and contemplating the rest of the weekend. Or in this case, the rest of the month. And instead of seeing yourself in the life of the main character and mourning for them as if they were your own, the one who hurts is you, and it feels like nobody from the sidelines is mourning on your behalf. It’s almost ridiculous the amount of times you’ve mentally punched yourself for being this distraught, doesn’t everybody experience heartbreak at least once in their life? Maybe they do, but not everyone feels it this hard. Not everyone devotes every single inch of love in their hearts towards one singular person, only to have it blown out like the candles on a birthday cake, because the candles of the one you love burn for somebody who isn’t you.

And maybe if you were younger, if you were less understanding, if you had less control… you would be vengeful, heart full of nothing but envy for the lovely woman whose presence has his full attention. But you’re not, because you’ve grown. You’re older, you’re wiser, you understand. You understand the kind of pain such a mindset would inflict not only on the people around you, but also yourself. It’s truly hard to feel hate for that beautiful woman. She’s ever so kind, and strong, and beautiful and perfect and everything you’ve somehow convinced yourself that you’re not. She’s never wronged you, it’s not her fault. Truthfully, it’s not anyone’s fault. But that won’t change the fact that it hurts. In fact, it maims your very soul more than any pain you could have felt before. Most people would wonder why you even felt for him in the first place if they knew the history the two of you had. Yet the answer comes clear as day. To feel such comfort around him is something that rarely comes from other people. You know you can speak your mind on a bad day without scaring him off, and he knows, you hope he knows, that you’d put up with and listen to him as much as he needed as well. You love the way you always have to stifle a laugh whenever he makes an inappropriate comment, or how he’s unafraid to let you know when you’re wrong. How he always has to ponder the mysteries of the world at such a deep level, never taking things at face-value. And how he always hears you out from your perspective, never making you feel crazy or out of place for your seemingly otherworldly ideas.

Maybe it irked you at first, his insouciant and immature behavior, but it’s difficult to keep lying to yourself when really you knew deep down how endearing it felt, to have someone close enough to share such experiences with. And yet, through all of this, it seemed you had read him all wrong. This was the first time you had ever loved someone this deeply, let alone loved at all. People these days, especially young people, seem to lack the mental complexities you’d prefer in a partner. You wanted someone you could love and understand, not just some accessory at the hip to just brag and boast about. Even with all the times he’d berated you with insults and poked fun at your mishaps, he still possessed a sort of depth to his mentality, the kind that honestly made you fawn over the way you could hold meaningful conversations without feeling like you didn’t belong. If you recall correctly, he did mention once that he wasn’t a fan of small talk. Maybe that was just the way he was, or maybe it came as a result of his seemingly never ending history of trauma. (it made your heart clench just thinking about it, but you rarely brought it up. You knew all too well he wasn’t fond of the subject)

It only made sense he managed to snatch your heart right up into an unbreakable death grip. You were in love with him, for sure and certain. And it was likely that undying inferno, clouding your correct judgment in a cloud of smoke and ash, that led you to be here in this scene, the very moment that truly broke your heart, for the very first time.

You’d seen him with the girl a number of times, and to be fair, neither of them had ever confirmed any affection for the other, so perhaps you were just overthinking it all. Maybe to think such things would only be setting yourself up for disappointment, but for now, that could be left to the future. Maybe, if you were to get over your fears and doubts for just a moment, you would tell him. Maybe plan something for just the two of you, like they do in those cheap romance novels, and over a glass of zaytun peach lemonade, you look him in the eyes and say, “I love you.” And he would reply with, “Yes, so do I.” And the day would end however the author of said cheap romance novel sees fit.

And so you decide to do exactly that.

You find yourself sitting in immense regret as you wait outside the doors to the Akedemiya, anxiously picking at the cuticle of one of your nails as the unforgiving sun beats down on the back of your head. You’ll likely never fully get used to Sumeru’s weather. Typically at this time of the week, he attends the usual Vahumana lecture, begrudgingly of course. That was one of the things he was fond of complaining to you about, specifically the professor, whom he described as a “sulking old wench on the verge of death.” Maybe the description was a little much, but it elicited little giggles out of you nonetheless. And as the clock hits two in the afternoon, your anticipation only increases as you watch the door open and close, pairs of students leaving in intervals. You instantly perk up as you see his slender figure push its way out from the large wooden doors, making a beeline directly away from where everyone else was heading. Caught up in simply admiring him as he strolls away, lost in a daze, you suddenly snap out of your daydream as the realization hits you that he’s the reason you’re here. If he gets away, you’ll lose your chance.

With one last quick, deep breath of reassurance, you jog up to his side before he’s too far away, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Hey, hold on!” You call out, cheeks instantly redding as he cocks his head in your direction with a (thankfully) only mildly annoyed expression. Having a crush is so much more mortifying than you would have ever anticipated. “Hey-“

“What?” He interrupts, clearly already exasperated with whatever antics he thinks you intend to throw his way. “How was school?” You inquire, jogging up to his side again as he quickens his pace out of annoyance. “Don’t ask questions like that, I’m not your child.”

“Fine, my fault for wanting to know how you’re doing. I have a request for you.” You press on, not wanting to waste much time with his brashness. “I’m going to decline.” He insists. “No, you won’t. Well, maybe you will. But i’m politely requesting that you accept.”

“Well, you have to tell me what it even is first, no?”

You mentally roll your eyes. He always had to be like this, didn’t he? “I’m getting there. I was, um.. wondering if you were going to be busy this afternoon?” You question, cringing at the way the words failed to come out as smoothly as you had originally intended. He scoffs at this, followed by a laugh. “You’re hilarious. What do you actually want from me?”

“..what do you mean? I’m asking if you have any plans for the rest of today.”

“Why? Is Kusanali being overly dependent on her little errand boy again? I would’ve thought she would tell me herself, not send some messenger.”

This causes you to cringe. Despite the immense progress he’s made, he still can’t comprehend the fact that there are people who actually care for him and don’t see him as just some sort of a tool. “Oh come on, is that really the conclusion you’re going to jump to?” You ask with a hand on your hip. “What other reasons could you possibly have for seeking me out? Don’t tell me you actually want to spend time with me?” He quirks an eyebrow in amusement as he crosses his arms. He enjoys messing with you, he really does. “And what if I do?” You respond with an equally smug expression, seemingly forgetting about your previous nervousness and relishing in the fact that you can lightheartedly tease each other like this. “Then I’d tell you that you’re a fool. I don’t see any possible way you could benefit from being around me.”

“Why do you do this? Is it really so difficult to imagine that people enjoy being around you? Haven’t you spent enough time around me to know I’m not joking?”

He sighs, half in exasperation and half in defeat. “So you’re really saying you came all the way out here because you want to waste your afternoon on me? If I agree to whatever escapade you have planned, will you leave me alone then?” His voice is only slightly, but definitely noticeably softer than it was before. “I wouldn’t call it a waste. Please give yourself some credit.” You insist. “Fine, I’ll indulge you this once. But I better not hear any more of this.” He says, only mildly displeased. You smile madly to yourself, biting a lip as you fight to contain yourself, at least for the time required to form your next sentence. “Okay well, I’m not letting you back out now. Can we agree to meet somewhere then?”

“..if you insist.”

And not much longer after that, the two of you had agreed to meet a few hours later in the evening outside of the Grand Bazaar. Zubayr Theater had planned that day to host a small festival in honor of what Nilou liked to call it’s “grand reopening”. Following recent events, the matra of the Akedemiya had decided to lay back on some of their laws and views regarding the arts, meaning that the theater was free to perform as openly as it liked, with some rules, of course. Needless to say, Nilou was absolutely ecstatic. She’d choreographed a whole show solely for the sake of reopening, and the streets of Sumeru City were plastered with all of the posters and flyers. Not only were you more than happy to come and support your good friend and her passions, you were also quite fond of the arts and always enjoyed a good performance. Not to mention it made a decent first date spot for two aspiring lovers. (“Date” was a strong word, and you were fully aware of the fact that a date was not what this was. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but daydream about such things.)

You’d graciously purchased a ticket for yourself as well as for him, much to his surprise. “And what if I hadn’t decided to show up? What would you do with your wasted money then?” He quirks as the two of you walk inside the theater, breathing in the scent of spices mixed with floral perfumes. “Well you’re here aren’t you? That means I don’t have to worry about that. But if for some crazy reason you did decide to ditch me, I’d just find some lucky unsuspecting stranger who’d appreciate a theater ticket much more.” You reply. “Of course you would. Always so generous.” He quips, not lacking his usual sarcasm. “Well what would you rather I do with it?” You question curiously. He scoffs. “That's not what I meant, your answer was fine. I’m just saying it’s so very like you.”

“Whatever, just come on. I think you might actually enjoy this, Nilou is very talented!” You chirp, skipping ahead to the doors of the auditorium, your enthusiasm showing right through. In truth, you had decided to bring him to a quiet place such as a theater as an excuse to not have to make too much conversation with him. The long performances would give you plenty of time to come up with what you were going to say once the time came. As guilty as it made you feel, you really only paid a fraction of attention to the lovely performance as your thoughts were lost elsewhere. It was finally beginning to dawn on you how anxious you really were, and a pool of regret starts forming in your chest as your mind conjures up all of the worst possible scenarios. He’s not exactly known for being the most compassionate person, so fear of rejection was only worse in this case. Would he ridicule you, or would he simply spit venom in your face like there’s no tomorrow? Either way, whether this night would turn out for the worse or for the better, you were too far in to turn back now. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

He didn’t seem to have much to say himself either, only making a snide remark as the curtains opened and remaining mostly silent for the rest of the performance. You’d almost say he was enamored with the dancers, watching them with a lovely sort of infatuation, almost as if he was also lost in his own little world. You find yourself continuously sneaking glances at him, whether to try and catch some sort of emotion on his face or simply just to look at him, you weren’t entirely sure. If he notices your constant little glances, he makes no comment. With a final flourish of sounds, music and lights that snaps you out of your anxiety-filled little daze, you zone back into the stage as the audience roars with applause and the curtains slowly come to a close. You breath in deep for your nose, realizing that you can no longer hide in the darkness and music of the theater. And for the first time since the beginning of the whole show, he speaks up. “You know, I might have doubted you a bit too much. It would be a lie to say that wasn’t a little enjoyable. You’re right, that girl does have some talent.”

Taking a minute to actually process that he was speaking to you, you blink a couple of times before turning to face him. “O-oh! See? I told you. Are you realizing now that you don’t always have to be so pessimistic?” He quirks an eyebrow at the way you appear to be so startled, but chooses to make no mention of it. “I hate to break it to you, but one night of little dance performances isn’t going to change my philosophy, no matter how much you want it to.” He chuckles as the two of you start to filter out with the rest of the crowd. “Maybe not tonight, but I bet one day I will.”

“Mhm. Good luck with that.”

By the time you exit the theater, the sun has almost completely gone down, only casting the city in the faintest remnants of orange and yellows. The ambience of the night can only be described as tranquil with the way it bathes the buildings in its warm purples and cooler blues. It fits him so well, you think. So well, you don’t even realize you’re staring. The moonlight illuminates the carefully sculpted features of his face, making him appear as if he were straight from one of the paintings of the masters. The artist clearly has a steady hand, with each brush stroke being carefully placed to exact precision, the colors fading into each other absolutely beautifully. It truly is a once in a lifetime experience to get the chance to lay eyes on somebody this breathtaking. You’re a sight for eyes, Kunimitsu. Are the words your brain decides to conjure up following this butterfly-inducing observation. But of course, such moments can only live so long as he decides to cut you off with a rather embarrassing reality check. “You’re staring. Something you want to say?”

The blush attacks your cheeks faster than you can even blink, eyes widening for but a moment. You’ve been caught red handed, nothing you can do about that. Instead of averting your gaze in shyness, you grasp tightly to that little sliver of confidence left from the beginning of this whole endeavor, using it as assistance for crafting your next words. “Hmm.. maybe there is.” The words fall out flawlessly, gaze never leaving his. And then there it is again, that familiar feeling of teeny tiny butterflies making themselves at home in the pit of your stomach with the way his eyes meet yours. “Then I think we should go find a place to sit. There’s… actually something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you as well.” He replies, with him being the one to break eye contact instead of you. If you strain your ears just hard enough, you swear he sounds uncharacteristically softer than usual, and you instantly wonder if he’s thinking the same thing you are. And with the way he immediately follows by tilting his hat down to cover his expression and quickens his pace, he has to be, you think. “Good. I wanted a drink, anyway.”

You imagine yourself being patted on the shoulder reassuringly, it’s truly now or never. You’re by yourself again, waiting in a surprisingly short line for lemonade. Disappointingly, the clearly under-staffed lemonade stand had quickly run out of many of the good flavors, including your favorite, zaytun peach. Deciding not to let it get you down, you settle on two glasses of plain lemonade, figuring that the Wanderer would prefer that kind anyway. You still hadn’t figured out what his deal was when it came to food. He didn’t seem like a picky eater, but he always grimaced anytime anyone made a comment regarding anything gooey and sweet. You hadn’t quite figured out if he hated all sweet things, or if it was just sweet things that also happened to be sticky… but no matter, if the citrus drink happened to not be to his liking, that was the least important concern on your mind at the moment. With annoyingly shaky hands and an increased heart rate, you take the two cool glasses of lemonade and make your way over to where your companion has already claimed a spot at a table, shaded and secluded away from the rest of the festival-goers.

You set the cups down, which he barely even acknowledges. Neither do you, practically forgetting about their entire existence the moment your legs hit the smooth wooden structure of the chair. He shifts in his seat, almost uncomfortably, you note, turning to face you. Much to your chagrin, he decides not to say anything, leaving the two of you in a dreadfully uncomfortable silence. “So-“

“You wanted to tell me something?” You interrupt. Truly you weren’t sure why, though it was most likely because you were trying to find some last minute way to further procrastinate your confession. He pauses for a moment, before inhaling sharply, followed by an unnecessarily long exhale. “I… suppose I do. I’ve given this quite a bit of thought, and I’ve decided that despite the way you annoy me and your persistent show of naivety, I still think you’d have a good outlook on my predicament.” Usually when he makes quips like this, you’d playfully roll your eyes, followed by a witty retort of your own. But it seems that at this point into the night, you’ve already spent up all your previously prepared confidence. Your hands are under the table, one finger working nonstop at picking a loose cuticle, already turning pink and uncomfortable and raw from the friction. “I’ll… try my best. What exactly is it?” Your voice comes out smaller than intended, and you wonder if he can sense your anticipation.

He makes an ‘ugh’ sound as his head drops forward, the bridge of his nose coming to land directly in between his pointer and thumb. “I just… I’m conflicted. I don’t…” This causes you to furrow your brows together at his odd display of vulnerability. It seems he’s at a loss for words, the first time you’ve ever witnessed such a thing. “About… what?” You query, clasping your hands together underneath the table. He squeezes his eyes shut and a forced exhale leaves his nose, and it’s the first time you think you’ve ever seen him willingly show that much emotion around you. “I’ve been… trying to come to terms with something as of late. And I’m just not understanding how all you mortals endure these kinds of things every day, it’s honestly appalling.” He lifts his head up from between his fingers, looking at you concernedly, as if he really was being honest about how he felt. “Okay, well first of all, I doubt that you actually feel things any less than the ordinary human, you just like to hide it. Second, what is it that’s bothering you even? You’re concerning me.” You comment. He scoffs. “The amount I feel is not the point. I am incredibly disturbed by this, and you are the only person I feel can advise me on what to do. You’re quite the expert on emotions, after all.”

You’re not quite sure whether he’s giving you a compliment or calling you emotional, but it didn’t matter. The fact that he’s even coming to you about something that clearly means so much to him hints at the fact that there might be some greater feeling lingering behind all of this. You’re about to open your mouth to ask once again what he means by all this, but he beats you to it, and you swear you see the apples of his cheeks turn a dusty rose color. “I keep having this reoccurring thought, about a person… that I may hold some sort of fondness for..”

Your breath hitches. This whole time your well-thought out (more like impulsive, but you digress) plan was to get him alone so that you would have to work up the courage on your own to confess to him. But now, was he going to do it for you? Would you be getting the happy ending you’d daydreamed about for so long? You zone out for the better part of his speech, attention only coming back for the last few words.

“…your friend, actually. You know, the one with the (color) hair? Surely you’ve noticed? That’s why I’m telling you, you’re the only one I feel even remotely comfortable with giving this information.”

What.

With those words, you swear you could literally feel your face turn white . Could you perhaps have misheard? Is he alluding to something else? It’s almost like you’re in denial. The only physical reaction this confession seems to get out of you is a blank stare, while your mind on the other hand is practically on a wild rampage. The man you love more than anything, more than life, more than the sun, more than yourself, sitting in front of you, telling you directly to your face that his heart belongs to somebody whose name is not yours. Whose whole persona you wish so dearly could be your own. And the audacity to ask for advice on what to do was really just the cherry on top. You feel absolutely mortified, like there’s a sizzling flame, a light in your stomach making you feel like you’d vomit the entirety of your organs at any given moment. He couldn’t possibly be lying either, with the way his whole demeanor seems to change to a completely different person when he speaks about her. He seems so oddly vulnerable telling you about how he feels. At the very least, he trusts you more than most to be so willingly sharing his thoughts with you. That’s something, at least.

After a short moment too long of silence, you blink away your surprise, putting on a soft expression that reads ‘congratulations, I’m so happy for you’ despite the ache forming in your heart. “Ah, is that so? You know, I think it’s great you’re allowing yourself this. She’s a beautiful girl, I’m sure she loves you just as much.” Gods, that hurt more than anything else you’ve ever had to say before. He pauses for a moment before speaking again, and you fear it’s because he’s noticed your trepidation. “You’re very perceptive for a mortal, you know. That much I’ve picked up on, if not anything else. So is that really what you think then? That she could really harbor any sort of affection for me, despite what I’ve done?” And if that doesn’t hurt even more. The first reason being that he clearly loves this girl even deeper than you’d originally thought, the second being that he still believes himself to be so inherently undesirable that he has to ask you for confirmation that another could love him back. And of course he’s lovable, he’s literally taken your very soul and intertwined it with his own.

“Kunimitsu, how could she not? Do you really not see anything in yourself of any value? Of course you’re loved. Despite what you think of yourself, and what you think others should think, you are meant to be cared for just as you are. I- she can see the way you’ve changed, and your efforts to heal and become better. If someone like you cares for her, there isn’t any possible way you aren’t dear to her as well.” The reason these words come out so easily can only be explained by the feelings you harbor so deeply for him. Maybe it sounds too much like a confession of your own, and despite trying to make yourself believe you say it for his own good, you know deep down it’s really because you want to relieve some of that ache for yourself. He looks at you in a relieved sort of way, almost endearing, yet still not fully believing. “Do I really deserve this..?” His eyes are by far the softest you’ve ever seen as he practically begs you to confirm it for him again. And damn it if you didn’t love him so much, if you weren’t so eager to please him. “You do. You really, truly do.” If only he knew how good you’d treat him if you were the one he longed for. If only he knew how hot your flame burned for him, if only he knew the way you longed to hold, caress, and simply just love him. And so you decide you can bear to look at him no longer, lest you break down in tears. “It’s getting a bit late, I think. I hope you think about what I told you. Good night, Kuni.”

You stand up, not really caring anymore if you seemed to end the night too abruptly. Maybe it was selfish to leave just like that, and maybe he could tell you were upset, but none of that mattered. Right now, you really wanted to just put yourself first for once. Nearly the instant you consider yourself far enough away from him or anyone else, you begin to break down. You roughly cover your mouth with the palm of your hand to cover the sound of a pathetic little sob that escapes your vocal chords. A shaky inhale follows as large droplets of salty tears quickly make their way down your cheeks from the corners of your eyes. Your other arm wraps around your midsection at a subconscious attempt at self comfort. You collapse against the slide of a building, sliding down the wall until you’re fully seated on the ground, allowing your emotions to fully take a hold of you. For what feels almost never ending, you cry and cry and cry until you don’t have it in you to produce anything more. You take another shaky breath, whether to calm yourself down or to replace all the oxygen lost, you’re not sure. It doesn’t really help either way.

After several more minutes of just sitting there, hugging your knees to your chest and looking up absentmindedly at the night sky, quite literally contemplating everything about your life, you’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sounds of soft footsteps coming down the cobblestone road. You panic, desperately not wanting anyone to see you in such a state. Upon further inspection, the sounds of the approaching person become clearer. It sounds as if the owner isn’t wearing any shoes. Instead, there’s also the faintest sound of jingling bells. Turning your head slightly to the side, you catch a glimpse of exactly who seems to be approaching, and you sigh in relief. You actually wouldn’t mind a little company from this person, if they even notice you hiding in the depths of your despair. The little dendro archon strolls casually down the street, seeming to be thinking of nothing but how tranquil the ambience is. Part of you wants to step out from your hiding place and greet her, the other urging you to curl away even further. Neither of the thoughts win, resulting in you staying exactly where you are.

The white-haired little sprout hums an old Sumeruen tune as she bounces on the balls of her feet, not a care in the world. Your heart warms a little at the sight. Just as the thought finishes passing through your love-sick mind, she cocks her head to the side, noticing your presence. With a little pleased gasp, she bounces right over to you. “(Name), I’ve been looking all over for you! Why are you sitting all alone?”

You give her a smile, only half attempting to conceal your distress. You don’t really want her to question you about your misfortune, yet at the same time, it would feel really nice to tell somebody you trusted as much as her about it. “Hi, Nahida. I’m just taking a breather, I guess. It’s really nice out tonight, isn’t it?” Your voice is soft and smooth, as it usually is when making conversation with her. “It is indeed! I was just out taking a walk myself. My intention was actually to find you, I was wondering if you had made it to the festival. It seems I ended up getting a bit distracted… so I’d say it’s actually quite lucky I managed to run into you here. Silly me!” She sits down next to you, bells rustling against each other. Her short legs stick out straight and she rests her hands atop her lap. “You were looking for me? What for exactly?” You curiously ask, resting your cheek on the palm of your hand while your head turns to look at her. Your eyelashes are still clustered together in little points as a result of the river of tears just a few minutes prior.

She taps a finger against her chin, a typical habit of hers reserved for thinking. “To be honest… I don’t think I really had a reason. I was just seeking your company! Ever since I met you and the traveler, I’ve found that I quite enjoy spending time with my friends.” This elicits a giggle from you. She didn’t even intend for it to be a compliment, her comment was pure honesty. But nevertheless it succeeded in making you feel a little better to know that you were on her mind, even if she had no idea what you were feeling at the moment. “Well I’m glad you found me then. Did you go to the festival today?”

“No, I didn’t get the chance to. But…” She trails off, giving you a puzzled yet concerned expression.

“Is there something on your mind? I know I’m not an expert yet on human emotions, but I feel as if you are acting differently than you normally do.”

She sits patiently, waiting for a response. True, she had a bit of a hard time contemplating the more complex emotions of humans, but she was still one of the most empathetic people you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

You sigh, might as well tell her the truth. “Nahida, I… you’re right. I am thinking about something. I just don’t know exactly how to tell you..” Your gaze falls down, suddenly you become more interested in picking at your cuticles than the inquisitive girl beside you. She hums in understanding. “I see...” She sits in silence, words failing to find her. They don’t seem to come to you either.

“..shall I read your mind? Not to intrude, but do you think it would help? Would you like me to know what’s wrong?” She pressed, almost carefully. After a bit of trial and error, the young archon had learned that most people don’t appreciate being bluntly asked for their feelings. So, she’d learned to take things with a bit more heed. Any other day, you probably would have laughed, telling her not to worry herself over you. But, thanks to none other than Nahida herself, you’d begun to slowly become a bit more open with how you felt. She’d advised, after reading some self-help book on managing emotions, that you start telling people when you felt something that made you hurt. And as honestly awkward as it was, it was helping. In lieu of a response, you nod your head in answer to her question with a small ‘mhm’ sound, the words once again failing to come to you.

She nods her head as well, giving your shoulder a gentle pat before ever so softly taking your hand in both of hers, treating it as if it were a fragile glass ornament. She gives it a soft kiss before grasping it more firmly, shutting her eyelids before beginning the process of entering your consciousness. Without even trying, you replay the events of earlier that afternoon in your mind, cringing the whole way through. It brought a tough sort of ache into your chest, sort of like bread dough with too much flour. After only a few more seconds of replaying painful scenes and holding your breath without even realizing, she opens her eyes, but chooses not to release your hand just yet. When her expression meets yours, it can only be described as sorrowfully compassionate.

“Oh…” Is the only sound that escapes her lips. You smile sadly and attempt to laugh in order to lighten the mood, regretting it instantly the second the noise emitted from your throat turns into a sob. You cover your mouth with your hand as the tears return yet again. Nahida stands on her knees to better reach you, wrapping her small arms around your shoulders, patting your back comfortingly. “I am so, so, so sorry (Name). If only I had known… he hadn’t even told me about his feelings for her.” She coos. Speaking through your tears, you make an attempt to defend her position. “It’s not- It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” You let your head hang low with no more energy left to hold it high.

“You know that I’ve never experienced such heartbreak personally, but I can imagine it hurts just as much as you say. Please don’t start to think anything less of yourself because of this, you are still perfect.” She lifts herself from the embrace, holding your head in both of her hands. You look up at her with tear stained cheeks that glisten in the moonlight, giving a watery laugh. “Nahida, you are so nice to me. You think you don’t understand emotions, but you still care about mine more than a lot of people I’ve met.”

“It’s my duty as the Archon of Sumeru, isn’t it? I must attend to all the needs of my people. Political, physical, and I also believe emotional. And as one of my newfound friends, I need to take care of you too.” She smiles, resembling that of a proud child after their mother congratulated them on a well-earned school grade. It makes you smile too. “I guess it is then. Thank you, Nahida. You are really a good friend.”

“And so are you! Now, I want you to promise me something, okay? Go to bed tonight as soon as you can, get lots of good rest. And tomorrow make sure to eat a healthy breakfast and get lots of sunshine. Sunshine is proven to lift moods significantly! Can you do that for me?” She counsels, this time resembling that of a mother caring for her ill child. You nod in agreement. “Sure. I’ll try my best.” You know full well agreeing to her worried demands was only to make her happy. Truthfully, you’re not sure for how long this heartbreak will plague your mind. It’s not everyday the love of your life blatantly states to your face that they love somebody who isn’t you. Some people would get angry when faced with a situation like this. Angry at the boy, angry at the other. Angry at themselves, even. But as of right now, you can’t find it in you to be angry. The feeling lingering behind from the shipwreck only seems to be a deep sort of pain, the kind that hollows out your chest and resides deep in the darkest of corners, it’s shadows seeping out to infest every single inch of you. Despite the sunshine peeking in, maybe from the kind words of a friend such as Nahida, the shadows don’t seem all that repulsed by it. When you were younger, you once told yourself you weren’t interested in the idea of falling in love. After reading so many books, nothing about the topic ever appealed to you. But as most people know, lives hardly go as they are planned, hardly follow along with the intentions. You hadn’t meant to fall in love with him, you hadn’t even tried. And maybe that’s what made it hurt so bad, because it seemed the universe had surprised you with a gift so lovely. You accepted, because who wouldn’t turn down such a generous item? Only to find out the universe had made a mistake, that lovely present tied with a satin bow was not in fact made for you, but rather instead for the lovely person next door with sparkling eyes like diamonds and a heart of gold.

Right now, your eyes feel much too clouded to even have a chance at sparkling, and your heart too heavy to be made of anything but black, crumbling coal. Maybe you’ll get over him, or maybe you won’t. Maybe this will be the kind of first love that stays by your side the rest of your life, the kind you tell stories to your grandchildren about when they ask you if you’ve ever been in love. Or maybe the fates will have a change of heart and decide to grant you the wish you’ve been so desperately clinging on to. Either way, you love him. And there will always be a part of you that hopes, maybe, he’ll love you too.

#genshin impact #wanderer #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #DID YOU SEE WHAT I DID WITH THE LEMONADE #IM SO PROUD #i’m gonna go back and proofread this again cause i think i missed some stuff :(

[rosicheeks]

How about a lush control link?

How about some $$$

#sorry buddy I don’t just give away my lush link #one cause I don’t want a bunch of random requests #but if you want to talk to me about possibly having a session with controlling my lush lmk #dm or send me an ask 💖 #I don’t do lush sessions often buuut I am broke so I’m open #ask #anon

[skaikruswan]

That meowpheus fic was amazing. Could you do one where he's sulking and everyone in the dreaming is trying to figure out why. Turns out that reader has gone on an excursion to map out fiddlers green. So once returned morpheus(or meowpheus your choice) is suddenly very clingy and wants so much PDA. Thanks love, keep up the great stories!

One should never ignore a cat or an Endless, or both  

WC: 1,6 k Ao3

Relationship: Morpheus x reader

Notes: sulking Morpheus, fluff, PDA

Thanks, this was a great prompt! Dear readers, while you can read this as stand-alone, it is more of a soft sequel to this Meowpheus prompt. Enjoy! If you liked this, check out my other stories.

I chose this gif because that's how I imagine Dream to look like while sulking.

You’re standing inside Fiddler’s green, breathing in the crisp air, and can’t help but jump in excitement. This place is a marvel. You’ve always loved nature, but as life has it, you don’t always find the time to walk through forests, climb on mountains, or swim through the sea. 

Fortunately for you, Fiddler’s green is the answer to all your dreams. The endless green glades and lush forests are practically begging you to explore them. 

You’re ready, your backpack filled with everything you need. You know that you could dream yourself right into the heart of this wondrous place, find the best sites in the blink of an eye, but where would be the fun in that? 

You’re going to map out this place, old-school. If one dream is not enough, you’ll simply continue in the next. Nothing and nobody is going to stop you. 

Setting one foot in front of the other, you begin your adventure. The birdsong sounds like the finest music to you, and as you wander through into a beautiful meadow, you let out a squeal. You are living the dream. 

Lord Morpheus controls the Dreaming, but what cannot be forgotten is that it is also a part of him. Lucienne remembers how the proud palace grew to become a desolate ruin, reflecting the damage their Lord’s absence had caused. 

The library is brimming with life, and each tome and volume makes her heart soar. As its librarian, she feels a deep calm and serenity settle within her. 

Even now as the palace shines anew and dreams and nightmares populate the realm again, Lucienne will always remember the horrible period during which she was the only who, despite being lonely and concerned, kept faith with their Lord. She will never take his presence for granted again. Even if his mood leaves to be desired. 

The sky above them, usually a lovely blue, is now a myriad of grey shades, the color of an oncoming storm. But as she watches Lord Morpheus rebuke a nightmare for leaving their designated place, his expression thunderous, Lucienne wonders if the storm might be already here. 

Lucienne hopes that you will return swiftly.

_______________________________

Matthew is circling above the throne room, looking for a comfortable spot to land. He is definitely getting the hang of this raven-thing. What else can you do when you wake up with feathers and claws, and tasked to help and watch over the world’s moodiest immortal? 

Matthew would rather glue his beak shut than tell him that in person. The boss has a lot of responsibilities and duties, so he can have a cranky moment or two. Now that the boss has reclaimed his power and things have settled down, Matthew actually enjoys his job; then again, anything beats going to literal hell. 

Besides, the boss is not so bad. He tries to listen, to take other people into consideration. Meeting you has helped, and right now he and every soul – real or dreamy – wishes for your return. Matthew is glad that he can just take a break and fly into the waking world to escape the gloom that follows the King of dreams. More like king of sulking.

Just in that moment, the boss looks up, and his dark glare is enough to send Matthew soaring towards the sky. It’s settled: Matthew won’t come back until you have returned. 

                     _________________________________

The roaring of water is getting is getting louder, and you can’t wait. You’ve been following this small stream for what feels to be ages, and you feel it in your bones that it will pay off. The water is so refreshingly cool, it is a pleasure to drink, but you want to finally swim in it. 

Your effort and perseverance are rewarded as the forest thins out, with only a few trees framing the wonderful waterfall and azure lake. The view is breathtaking, with birds flying over the thundering masses of water. 

“This is the best!” you scream as you race towards the azure water, and for a moment you hear an old man’s chuckle inside your mind. As you come closer, you think you see a blur of black and gold at the edge of your vision. 

“I am so happy that I got to do this alone.” Was that mean? Maybe just a little. Will you regret this? Hopefully not. But you had told Morpheus that you wanted, no, that you needed this to be a solo adventure. 

You feel your clothes turn into a swimsuit as you run towards the lake, giggling all the way. 

                        ______________________________

Merv knows the palace in and out. As a janitor, he could walk through this place blindly, which is why it doesn’t bother him that the light seems to dim inside the palace. 

What worries him is how dutiful dreams and nightmares he has known for ages suddenly start to quiver like mortal children. 

The boss has returned, pacing around in front of his throne like a caged tiger, and boy, he looks like a nightmare himself, all dark and broody. 

Merv hopes that your trip will be over soon. 

                             ___________________________

“I am back,” you call out, more softly than you initially wanted to. You still feel a little bad for dismissing Morpheus like that, especially since your trip was longer than anticipated. 

“Hello?” The throne room is eerily quiet, and you scurry past some dreams. One of them almost looks like they wanted to give you a hug, but then opted for a bow. Odd. 

It took some time, but you’ve become better at controlling yourself inside the Dreaming. Right now, you feel just the right mix between spent and serene, right when you stand on top of a mountain after a long hike. 

You walk towards your room, not even bothering to close the door, and drop down on your bed. You’re going to stay here or a while. This bed is your favorite place right now. 

“My love.” Despite your exhaustion, you roll around in your bed to see Morpheus leaning against the door frame. He’s giving you one of his precious, soft smiles, and you feel your heart flutter. 

“I have missed you,” you admit quietly and watch as he advances towards your bed, the mattress dipping as he’s lying down next to you. 

“I have missed you too.” He gently cards his hand through your hair, and you close your eyes, savoring the heavenly moment. This here feels like a dream within a dream, and you hope he continues forever. Way too soon he stops, and you look at him with an expectant pout. 

“Your turn.” You start moving your fingers through his silky hair in return, a proud grin on your face as he starts to hum. Carefully, your movements become slower until they stop. 

“We are not finished.” He turns his back to you, rolling his shoulders once, and you roll your eyes dramatically at him in fond chagrin. You glide your fingers down the shell of his ears, before applying the right amount of pressure to massage his neck. Your hands roam over his shoulders, idly drawing patterns. You press one quick kiss at the top of his spine, signaling him that you’ve finished. 

Apparently, you’re not done, because Morpheus captures your hands with his, his eyes half-lidded as he blinks at you. A heartbeat later, a black cat with golden eyes has taken his place, rubbing its head against your palm. 

“Well, you’re awfully needy today, Lord Meowpheus,” you tease, only for him to playfully nibble at your fingers. You giggle as you sit up, waiting for Morpheus to find a comfortable position on your lap. As you let your fingers glide through his soft fur, you listen to his low purr while telling him about all the be wonders you have seen on your journey. A flower crown is still adorning your head, a souvenir from an extraordinary adventure. 

“I would like to accompany you on your next journey, if I may,” Morpheus asks, his voice deep and comforting like dark chocolate, and you scratch his favorite spot underneath his chin. 

“Hmm, let me think about it.” You try to keep your face impassive, one hand holding your chin in thought. A minute passes as you hum contemplatively, then another. You feel sharp claws pinch your thighs, neither painful nor drawing blood, but enough to let you know about the cat’s displeasure. You let out a soft scoff and lean down to press a kiss between his ears, and Morpheus starts purring again.

“I would love it.” Now that you’ve explored Fiddler’s green, you can’t wait to experience it with Morpheus by your side. 

“I am looking forward to it.” Morpheus moves, exposing his belly, and you continue your ministration in comfortable silence.

“Of course, you would have to keep up. I am a good, fast wanderer.” You can’t help but tease him again, feeling your lips quirk into a smirk. Meowpheus stands up suddenly, arching his back, an in a blink of an eye, Morpheus is lying next to you, rolled to one side, his head propped on his hand. 

“I shall hurry then. If necessary, I will chase you.” His voice is deliciously low, and you see a flash of hunger in his fathomless eyes. You bite your lip, feeling a flush of heat at the memory of Meowpheus chasing mouse-you. That certainly had been an experience, to say the least. 

“Challenge accepted.” What mouse can claim that she tamed a cat? As Morpheus leans down to press his lips and his body against yours, making every inch of you tingle with molten satisfaction, you realize that you might want to revise that statement. 

#the sandman #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #dream x reader #sandman x reader #my writing #my sandman fics #lord meowpheus

[thephantomcasebook]

I truly dislike this phenomena, let's call it that, of changing a character from their book version and causing this domino effect that affects every other character and the plot in general.

Which is what I feel has happened to Chani in Dune Part 2. Her refusal to play along with Paul and Jessica's plot and her general indifference throughout, makes it so hard for me to foresee a situation in the future where she willingly reunites with her man and her mother-in-law.

I sure hope Denis Villeneuve knows what he's doing, because this change could create major complications in Dune Part 3.

But what do you think? And what scenarios do you have in mind for Chani to return to Paul? Do you also think this change could cause Irulan's book character to be different in the movie? 😬😬

It's hard to say, because, Chani is WA-AY different in the books and the ending is completely different and shatters a lot of future story beats in the books. They left a lot out about her character that makes her unique in order to serve the skeptic.

Chani, in the book, was a Sayyadina, a very senior Sayyadina. She was the under study for the Reverend Mother and would most likely be the next Reverend Mother of the Fremen if Jessica hadn't come along.

Chani is also the daughter of Dr. Kynes - Liet - who was basically the defacto leader of the Fremen at the time. So Chani was basically the Princess of the Fremen despite only being half Fremen. And thus her being a bit of an outcast among the native Fremen is why she and Paul bonded.

So being a Sayyadina and the daughter of Liet made her dyed in the wool believer of the Mahdi. If no other purpose than sharing her father's dream of returning Arrakis to a lush paradise.

Turning Chani into a fierce skeptic and basically taking from her all her deeply feminine and lovingly caring nature robbed her of a lot of interesting and unique character traits that she has in the book. They could've chosen anyone else to be a skeptic. Jessica, in the book, was the biggest skeptic and knew it was all bullshit. The problem was that Jessica wanted to protect her children. Also, in the book, which isn't addressed in the movie, is that Jessica is Paul's property.

Lady Jessica was purchased from the Bene Gesserit school by Leto's father for Leto when they were teenagers. From the day that the Old Duke bought Jessica for Leto, Jessica became property of the Ducal Household. Yes, she is Paul's mother. But, legally, Jessica is Paul's property after Leto's death. That's a big part of the book and why Jessica defers to Paul and allows Paul to dictate a lot of the things that are happening in "Dune" once the House of Atreides falls. Jessica is the bound concubine for life to the Duke of House Atreides - no matter who he is.

So, technically, from a legal standpoint, Jessica is actually Paul's concubine, which is classic Bene Gesserit (Spoiler Alert: Bene Gesserit sisters will marry and breed with their own sons if ordered to preserve or strengthen traits in House bloodlines.)

They could've made Jessica the skeptic - like she was in the book, give Chani Stilgar's devoted belief in the Mahdi, and show Stilgar being skeptical at first and then be turned into a fanatic by the end.

Also, Chani and Jessica don't like one another in the books either, never have and never will. She disliked Jessica all the way back when she thought Jessica was Paul's woman and she didn't stop disliking her once she found out that Jessica was his mom.

My theory is that the visions that Paul sees in the first movie of Chani trying to kill him is going to happen in Part 3. Irulan already has a large part in "Dune Messiah" of basically trying to get Paul to get her pregnant so that the Bene Gesserit can regain control of the Atries blood line ... also because Irulan is in love with Paul. A lot of things that happen in "Messiah" go through Irulan, and whether Chani has the same role or not, it won't effect Irulan's core story motivation, which is baring a Royal Heir and stopping at nothing to do it.

But right now, I don't see a path that they get to Leto II and Ghanima from where they ended.

For now, here is the best and GOATed adaption of "Dune Messiah" with the best and most fleshed out characterization of Princess Irulan and Alia ever put to screen.

#Dune #dune part 2 #Paul Atreides #irulan corrino #Chani #Lady Jessica #Dune Messiah #pauljessica

[69dias]

jjk drabble: tease

a/n: perhaps writers block has killed me for real and I am SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY!!!! i cooked this up on the first hour of a plane to New York and it was originally abt our wonderful liverpool RB Trent AA but alas … jungkook gets the crown. enjoy.

warnings: app control vibrator, fucking in public, voyeurism and slight exhibitionism, slight d/s Dynamics (she calls him sir once it’s whatever), mean jungkook who is also very much a sweetheart, spitting (on da pussy WOAH) … I think that’s it

wc: 1.6k she’s a baby IM SORRY

jungkook is a tease. it’s one of the first things you learned about him, and it’s one of those things that you’ve grown to love, even if — especially if — they’ve been the causes of serious hitches in your relationship. other such things include his competitiveness, the little spirals of self-deprecation, all of them. but most of all, his tendency to tease you.

and though you’ve grown to love it, right about now is one of those times you realize why exactly it caused those hitches in your relationships because if he doesn’t let up in the next minute, you’re ready to go over to where he’s sitting and choke the life out of him.

surely, murders committed a thousand feet above international waters couldn’t have any real consequences, right? 

to set the scene of your predicament, imagine three things: a flight to New York, a vibrator that connects to someone’s phone, and that someone, being jeon jungkook. the tease, who’s somehow managed to find the only way to make a first class flight uncomfortable. 

you swear you’re going to kill him. 

it’s not the fact that it feels bad in the slightest. lush manufacturing is incredible, and the small sparks of pleasure in between your thighs are enough proof of it. the vibrations can go up all the way, pulsing on top of your clit with scary accuracy — a preview of what jungkook promised you in exchange for this insane excapade — leaving you wet and sloppy until just crossing your legs would push you straight over the precipice of the edge, fuck the seatbelt sign preventing you from doing it, or they can be little thrums, mimicking soft kitten licks all over your heat, so good that they leave you arching your back to get a better angle —

no. it’s not that it feels bad.

it’s just that it could feel so much better if he would just let you cum.

but alas, he’s a fucking tease, and he knows you like the back of his own hand, down to the time it takes you to reach the point of no return. you’re sure he can see you, too, with where he’s sitting and how you can practically feel his vision sear into your skin which feels like it’s on fire as is. it practically hurts how close you are, nails digging into the palm of your hand to keep from moaning out loud — or worse, begging out loud.

if only you had the genius idea of a vibrating cock ring more than 30 minutes before leaving for the airport, jungkook would know exactly how tantalizing this felt for you. 

the thing about being in such a vulnerable position, though, is the lack of jungkook’s presence. typically, when he’s beneath you, head caught between your thighs as he eats you out like it’s his last meal, or when he’s holding a toy to your clit until the last possible second, you know he��s right there. it’s the verbal affirmations: I got you, you’re doing incredible, that’s my girl, just a little more, just a little more for me, and the physical touch: a hand on your lower back or his lips ghosting over your boobs or just something aside from the surprisingly soft blanket draped across your thighs.

you pick up your phone to tell him this, to tell him to meet you in the bathroom or whatever he can manage because of the damn seatbelt sign, but it seems like he’s beat you to it.

JK💗: close, baby?

JK💗: look at you. you look so pretty from here.

JK💗: god, you’re perfect, aren’t you? just so pretty and pliant for me.

[__]: im going to murder you.

JK💗: that’s a bit rude, no?

JK💗: you think that’s what a good girl would say if she wanted to cum?

[__]: you’ve lost your mind . im so fucking Close this is unfair 

JK💗: who said i’d be fair? i told you to be good, and you’re really not doing that right now 

[__]: fuck you

[__]: no wait

JK💗: cmon honey. what do we say when we’ve been rude?

JK💗: I can see you reading these, baby. gotta give me an answer.

[__]: please, im sorry.

JK💗: attagirl, sweetheart. you wanna cum?

[__]: yeah 

JK💗: what’s that?

[__]: yes, sir. please.

JK💗: look up, honey. seatbelt sign’s off. bathroom in 2?

he turns off the vibrations right as you tilt your head up to confirm that the sign has, indeed, been switched off. it’s well-earned relief, but the reminder that you’ve been so violently toyed with still covers your inner thighs and you’ve never missed something yet been so happy that it was finally gone before. 

when you turn your head to jungkook’s seat, he’s no longer there, and the small pulse between your legs comes alive again as you realize what’s about to happen when you meet him in the bathroom. 

two minutes is too long, far too long, but you’ve weathered the last half hour of torturous edging which has straight up convinced you that you could fight a war if you so pleased. you sneak a hand between your thighs, pressing ever so softly to somehow fuck the toy against you but it’s really to no avail because jungkook texts you just as you do.

JK💗: cmon honey, coast’s clear.

you don’t think you’ve ever moved that fast in your life.

—

jungkook, is, as it goes, just as generous as he is a tease.

you think it’s worth it, all of the torture and the feeling of having a high snatched from you so violently right when you’re at the precipice of it, your bitten lips and indented palms being physical proof of the denial you endured for so long —

it’s all worth it, every bit of it. 

because jungkook is beneath you, caught between your legs, licking at your clit, the fabric that’s practically stuck to your skin from the arousal that dripped from you ever since he started the worst foreplay known to man pulled aside. he’s desperate too, and if you were to move your foot an inch to the left to rest on his thigh, you don’t have a doubt that you’d be met with his hardened dick, but you don’t give a fuck; relishing in the fact that he’s getting karma and you’re getting eaten out.

your hands are caught in his hair, pushing him impossibly closer as he tongue fucks you, his own fingers dimpling the skin of your bare thighs as he gives you all the touches you were missing just a few minutes ago. jungkook is big on eye contact, and the soft nipping at your clit is enough of a message for your head to snap down, meeting his large eyes from where he’s kneeling on the floor.

they’re red rimmed with his own carnal desire, pupils blown out as you can practically see how his jaw moves so he can give you exactly what you deserve —

“fuck, fuck, please — jungkook, please.”

he pulls away for a second, and a soft whine of disappointment colors the air at his absence. he doesn’t let you feel it for too long though, opting to plant a kiss on your inner thigh before he speaks.

“shhhh, baby. don’t wanna get banned from these airlines now, do we?” his voice has a humorous bite to it, but the demand from him is clear enough that you know not to disobey, clamping your own hand over your face to not make noise.

jungkook’s mouth on your pussy doesn’t fare better, though, the obscenely slick noises loud even through the faint ringing of your ears as you get closer to your high. he’s opted to just flick at your clit now, one of his fingers prodding at your entrance until you spread your legs like an absolute slut getting fucked in an airplane bathroom to grant him permission.

you don’t care, though, because all you can focus on is his warm mouth on you, all you can focus on is how his thick digit reaches just the right spot inside of you, all you can focus on is the way he slides another one in with ease that should be humiliating but you don’t care.

the coil in your stomach tightens and you know that he’s aware of this because his eyes darken; fingers pumping in and out of you with a renewed vigor and goal — to make you cum.

the previous highs that you were so meanly denied of come back to you, coiling in the tresses of your stomach as you realize how filthy, how risky this whole thing is.

it’s has you biting down on your palm, hips bucking into jungkook’s relentless mouth as he pulls your thighs impossible further apart, pulling away for just a split second to spit on your pussy like you’re nothing but a deserted street.

that does it for you; the dominance and the bit of dehumanization that should be demeaning but it’s nothing other than incredibly attractive. it has the coil snapping violently, tears spilling from your eyes as the vigor of your high finally reaches a climax, wracking through every nerve in your body until you have both of your hands pulled up to your face to stop the moans threatening to spill from your mouth.

he lets you ride his face through it, sticking his tongue out and slapping the side of your thighs so you keep looking at him until you exhaust yourself out. 

the pulsating pleasure eventually dims itself down into a slow thrum that runs through your veins, colored in with a satisfying exhaustion that has you slumping into jungkook’s arms when he pulls himself up with a groan.

he kisses your temple, warm hand rubbing the small of your back through your (his) sweatshirt. 

“that good enough, baby?”

#jungkook #jungkook smut #bts #jungkook drabbles #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook/reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook blurbs #jungkook fics #jungkook fic #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #bts smut #bts drabbles

[ghostinthegallery]

If you’re still doing prompts, would you mind doing “Just... don't."

oh boy you just gave me an excuse to mess around with this pairing which had been bouncing around my head for ages! Behold, Szarekh/Imotekh (because you can’t just give me two rival kings and NOT expect me to wonder what would happen if they kissed)

Damn, I am getting mileage out of this prompt list ###

Mandragora did not have much in the way of native flora. Most species had been driven to extinction long ago by environmental shifts and violent acid rains. Biomancers saved, cultivated, and jealously guarded some plants for whatever nonsensical reasons they had to examine organic life. But Mandragora was not and would never again be a lush world.

So Imotekh was surprised to find a small, white flower lying in wait for him on the highest balcony of his palace.

He dismissed his lychguard, an act which was not unusual. He came to this spot often to think, to unravel the threads of logic and possibility that now formed so much of his mind. This was more easily done alone, away from any onlookers. On a clear day he could see hundreds of khet in any direction. This was not a clear day. It was foggy and damp, impossible to perceive much if he relied purely on visual data. Imotekh could only see his lychguard departing by the soft glows of their cores and weapons.

Once he was sure they were gone, Imotekh examined the delicate flower between the metal fingers of his gauntlet. Five petals the color of fresh snow surrounding a red pistil. He could not remember what it had been called in the time of flesh. His abilities of near perfect recall had only formed after his awakening from the Great Sleep. However he did not need to remember what it was called to know what its presence meant.

“Where did you get this?” he demanded.

For a moment he received no answer. His circumspection protocols revealed nothing. Until the mists swirled and his guest revealed himself.

The Silent King did not speak. Imotekh did not expect him to. Szarekh had always taken his kingly oath of silence comically seriously. There had been a time when Imotekh had enjoyed making him break that vow. Moans and cries of ecstasy counted just as much as words.

“You did not get it here,” Imotekh said, twisting the blossom between his claws. It took all of his meticulous control not to crush it. “It no longer occurs naturally. And I cannot imagine how you would have preserved an old specimen for this long.”

Imotekh had few memories of the time before the fires had taken him. Yet he remembered that once a general had been presented before his king after a great victory. A gauzy curtain separated him from the throne, but thanks to luck, chance, or some god's dreadful sense of humor an errant gust of wind had blown it aside. Just long enough for the general to see and be seen by the monarch he served. 

Imotekh had not been at all romantic, even when he had possessed a soul. He had simply been…enthralled. 

“No,” he continued. “I imagine you had one of your crypteks engineer it for you.”

Ensnared by the beautiful king who had done him the greatest possible cruelty…by loving him in return.

Imotekh released a static scoff through his vocal buffer. “What a sentimental waste of time.”

The affair would have been beyond scandalous, not to mention dangerous. Discovery would have meant disgrace for the king and execution for his sand-born lover. So they had devised a signal. A single white flower, left on the king’s balcony, and the general would know it was safe to enter his liege’s chambers. He had never found cause to object to the welcome he found there, whether it be sensual delights or simply calm. A rare thing for a general constantly at war. 

That chamber had been the only place in the universe he had truly felt safe. 

“Are you here to kill me?” Imotekh asked.

Szarekh’s glance fell. As much a sign of hurt as he had ever given. 

“That is what logic would dictate. Am I not in open rebellion against you?” Imotekh took a step towards the intruder. Where once the flower had promised unrestrained adoration, seeing it now only brought bitterness. How could it not when the king he had once worshiped had failed so utterly?

Szarekh closed the distance between them in three long strides, faster than Imotekh had calculated he would. He trapped Imotekh against the balcony’s railing, the only thing guarding them from a three-khet high fall. Rough stone ground against Imotekh’s back. Even more so than in life, the Silent King towered over him. Staring into Szarekh’s blazing oculars, he debated if he had a better chance of surviving gravity or the king’s wrath.

Or worse, his affections.

The Silent King’s slender fingers brushed against his hip as they moved to settle on his waist. He traced a line from the Stormlord’s shoulder, down his arm until their hands came together and began to intertwine. Sensory recollections flooded Imotekh’s neural buffer. Cool sheets, warm caresses, kisses both tender and desperate. To touch him after centuries, millennia apart was almost too sweet and painful to bear. 

Szarekh took hold of Imotekh’s chin and tilted his head back, bringing their faceplates close. 

“Don’t.” Imotekh’s anger, forged and tempered over countless years of war, suddenly felt brittle as glass. “Just…don’t.”

He pushed Szarekh away and pressed his hand against the balcony. The old memories burned in his core, but he shoved them down and strangled them with newly formed engrammatic chains. Not this. He did not want a cold mockery of the comforts they had once shared.

“You left,” he said, tone heavy with unspoken accusations. “You condemned us all, locked us away in tombs, and then you left. That doesn’t come without consequence.”

Szarekh recoiled. In that moment, Imotekh could have asked why? Had the guilt really been too much? Had Szarekh always been a coward, deep down? Instead, Imotekh turned away, unable to look at him any longer. Because of all the things biotransference had taken from the necron’s king, beauty was not one of them. 

Damn the weakness the gods cursed me with, even now, Imotekh thought.

“I heard it said that you had been killed by rivals while you slept.”

It took Imotekh a full half second to realize that it was in fact Szarekh who had spoken. The general nearly spun around, but he braced against the railing to keep himself in place. His fingers left furrows in the stones.

“It will pain me more than anything if it transpires that we must destroy each other, but still…I am glad the rumors were false. I am glad I got to see you again.”

“Selfish bastard.”

“Is selfishness not the right of kings?”

Imotekh could no longer resist turning, a retort forming in his vocal buffer, but Szarekh was already gone. Only a disturbance in the mist served as evidence he had been there at all.

It felt like something had been torn from him and his reactor had suddenly grown cold.

Imotekh shut down his optic array. He had known his resolve would be tested. That was the burden he had accepted when he had taken the phaeron’s throne. When he had challenged the triarchy. When he had denounced his one and only love. Their people needed someone to lead them out of this time of strife and darkness. There was no one else. 

Imotekh activated his gauntlet and watched as the white flower was consumed by flame.

#necrons #wh40k #imotekh the stormlord #szarekh #the silent king #szarekh really cannot catch a break #Answering asks #prompts #look do y’all have any idea how much of a sucker i am for forbidden royal court love affairs? #Sure a civil war is cool and all but what if the robots were also exes

[dumb-doll-lips]

Can other girls play the lush game?

Anyway, I have a real ask here: hoe long have you been on your bimbo journey? :3

Sorry, I’m being a lot of confused w this. By play do you mean send asks or like have your own verision going? Cause yes to both. lol.

And that real ask part feels tricky too bc I think it was like def a gradual thing at first and idk when it like became more of an official thing. First like gradual step this was was back in maybe my sophomore of junior year of college like when I started being in a some harder classes. In those hard classes I was like one of maybe 3 girls at most usually and the only one like not wearing sweats or basketball shorts all the time. And like being all girly and dressing up and nice got me a lot more help, like I remember a group project where they called me the project manager and all I did was like schedule when we met up. I didn’t do like any work. My dean also would invite me to like diff events to talk about this degree path and that was kinda fun but it was so that he picked me bc I was a cute girl and that would help better. More like on purpose was prolly when I started this blog. A couple years ago? I’m honestly not sure and scrolling to end sounds hard. Like 2021 I think?

This took so long to right. Def harder to focus this much. Damn lol.

Lush + hush ask game: send an ask and my reply will have a link to control them for 5 min

[chaossmagic]

"You don't know how much it means to me that you're doing this."

For a moment, T'Challa didn't reply, though his fingers flexed on the controls of the Quinjet for a split second. Then, "It is nothing."

"But it is. What you're offering - what you're asking to do-" Steve's words caught in his throat, and he looked down at his fidgeting hands in his lap, blood caked under his filthy nails. His entire body throbbed with bruises, but still he only had one thing on his mind.

"I almost caused more hurt to someone who has already been through so much pain. The least I can offer as an apology is a place of refuge and safety, where we have resources that may help your friend's...unique situation," T'Challa explained, turning to Steve with a gentle, sympathetic smile. "If I cannot at least try...I have failed him just as so many others have."

Steve was surprised when his eyes stung suddenly with tears. He snapped his head forward, staring at the vast expanse of blue sky and lush forest, the sun just starting to lower to the horizon on his left, as he tried to frantically blink them back.

It had been a long, tiring, emotional, exhausting few days.

"Ever since I found out Bucky was still alive, all I've ever wanted to do was keep him safe. To repay all the times he did the same for me when we were growing up. Now that I can, now that he doesn't have to fuss over me anymore. And after Hydra..."

He let his thoughts trail off. Steve didn't know why he was telling T'Challa this; he barely knew the man. But since he was taking a huge personal and political risk for them, he figured he owed him some honesty.

T'Challa's nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, and Steve saw a brief flash of anger on his otherwise calm and composed face. "I have read a little about what that organization of monsters masquerading as human beings did to your friend. I can assure you, in my country, they will never touch him again."

"That's all I want," Steve said. "That's all I ever wanted to do. It's the only thing I have to do."

Steve turned to the front again, watching the sky as it slowly turned from blue to orange and red, azure bleeding out into tangerines and crimsons. It was the kind of sight he'd have loved to draw, if he were in a different situation, pencil and oil pastels capturing the way the colours changed as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky.

"We'll cross the border before nightfall," T'Challa informed him, disturbing Steve from his thoughts. "Perhaps you should wake Sergeant Barnes. He may wish to enjoy the view as we reach the entrance to Wakanda. It really is quite extraordinary, as biased as I am in favour of my home country." The king smiled, and Steve found himself smiling back.

As Steve nodded and rose, heading towards the back of the Quinjet to the medical bay, where Bucky remained fast asleep on a hospital-style cot, a thick-knit blanket pulled over him that was decorated with a riotously colourful pattern of lines and shapes, the enormity of the situation dawned on him all at once.

What he'd told T'Challa was true. He'd do anything, go anywhere, to keep Bucky safe.

But the road they were going down was a dangerous one; blinded by his emotions, tired and desperate, it was however the only road he could see in front of him.

Because that's what you did when you loved somebody like he loved Bucky.

You'd do anything you could to save them.

#lorna's writing #stucky #steve x bucky #stucky fic #t'challa #captain america: civil war #marvel #mcu