#he practices over and over until the face in the mirror looks human. looks like a person. only problem is that it never looks like him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ramonathinks · 8 months

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Say His Name | SUKUNA

Say his name three times and he shall appear, fucking virgins before he disappear.

tags: (18+, minors and ageless blogs dni) corruption, virginity loss, monster-fucking, double cocks, mouth fucking, pet names (pet, my human, female), oral(f! receiving), handjobs, nipple play, fingering, creampies, copious amounts of cum, tummy bulge, sex in sukuna’s domain, overstimulation, mirror sex

notes: early i did originally plan an entire kinktober but lol (18+ banner/divider made by @/cafekitsune. repost from my first ever kinktober 🥂

“SUKUNA, SUKUNA, SUKUNA.” Call it childish for believing in such tales. But you wanted it to be true. Looking in the darkly lit bathroom of your dorm bathroom you groaned, blowing the candle out. You flipped the light switch back on.

You’d been hearing about it all year. But you should’ve known better than to believe a silly little legend like this. But you were a blushing and bubbling mess of a virgin. So hearing of some mysterious sexy man who fucks virgins with no strings attached seemed too good to be true and you just had to test this theory. But really you should’ve known better. You were too old to believe in such things but you were all dolled up just for him.

You’d been waiting until everyone on your floor was gone and you put on your best and sexiest lingerie. You weren’t expecting to wear this for such a man that everyone has described but you were ready. You were thinking maybe for a boy who’s eventually won your heart you’d wear this to give yourself away.

Your hair was down in a medium length silk press, wearing puffy pink ugg slides and a short pink fuzzy nightgown that hugged every inch of your body, amplifying your busty breast all for show. You even went with no panties.

All for him.

All for a no show.

Sighing, you reached for your shower caddy and got prepared to wrap your hair.

But a deep chuckle from behind, startled you. Every fiber in your being was begging you not to turn around. Your stomach clutching with a sense of fear and your mouth running dry.

“Little human.” His voice alone had you shaking but surprisingly it wasn’t all just fear, something else deep inside, something not so pure filled your body. Lust. You were still too afraid to look at him, your knees growing weak as he continued to speak.

“Too scared to turn around but all dolled up just for me. I can practically smell your sweet nectar from here.” He purred, his breath on your neck and you could feel the warmth of his body heat all over you. “I haven’t even touched you yet.” Taking his tongue, he licked up your ear before biting your lobe. “I could smell how sweet you are even before I got here. I couldn’t believe how delectable you smelled.” With hard hands, he softly grasped both of your breasts.

You released a small yelp with such surprise but your tummy fluttered. “Oh, my little human likes that…” He took note, pressed hot kisses against your neck. Squeezing your breast. With rough hands he stroked your nipples until they grew hard.

You were letting him have his way with you and you still hadn’t even seen his face. You moaned when you felt the soft drag of his claws, tugging at your gown.

“Tell me how badly you like my touch female…or I might just stop.” He pressed his hips into yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he was. “Don’t you want my cocks?” His voice was laced with something unfamiliar, he pressed his nose in your hair and did a quick inhale.

Desire pooled in your belly whenever he talked. “C-cocks?” You squealed. “I… I don’t think I can handle such a thing…” You muttered, trying to move away from him, keeping your eyes trained on your feet.

“Look at me.” He gripped your jaw in his fingers and forced your eyes to the mirror. Your pussy clenched against nothing when you saw his face. He was truly a beautiful demonic man. With sharp teeth and dark eyes that ate up your entire figure. There was colorful dark markings over his face and a sickening grin on his lips when he noticed you staring so hard. His spiked pink hair looked so soft that you wanted to pet him. “You desire is all in the air,” His told you. “Let me please you, my little human.”

“W-wait! I-um…” Your voice was hoarse and completely choked out as you stuttered, trying to find any excuse.

“You wish to deny me this?” He palmed your pussy. Dragging his hand all over the mound before trailing lower. “You are truly ravishing… in all these places.” You we’re panting and hanging on to every word he spoke, opening your thighs wider so he can feel you.

“Tell me…beg me…” His hand ran down lower, inching closer and closer towards your puffy clit.

Then he pulled away.

It was awful and your body felt cold, you even almost tripped over yourself, to which he chuckled. “Why did you st—”

Pressing his hot lips to yours he kissed you, squeezing your ass and adding his tongue. His tongue was sucking and sliding in every inch of your mouth, you could barely breathe. It felt so long and so deep, almost like he was in your throat. “I want you to beg me for my touch, I know you want it… so beg for it, or you won’t get it.” He said as he pulled away, drool on the corner of his mouth.

“Please…touch…me…” You forced the words he wanted to hear out. “I want your fingers, your tongue, your…cocks.” You whimpered a deep pout on your lips. He smiled at your honesty and he clipped your lingerie down with his claws in one swift motion.

His thumb caressed your folds softly and he groaned watching the wetness drip to the floor. Slipping one finger inside, you gasped, holding on to his wrist and grinding down a bit. Loud squelching noises filling the air every time he pushed in a bit deeper. “Tight little thing. All for me.” He dropped to his knees and licked his lips once he spread your folds open.

“Pretty little pearl.” He rasped before taking it in his mouth. Your hips buckled and thrashed against his face, your moans echoing and bouncing off the walls. He added another finger, hard. Slamming them both inside of you, stretching you wide. So much cream and slick ran down your thighs, he pumped faster inside of you.

Both of his cocks were leaking and aching but all he could think about was your pussy and just how good it taste. He groaned with his eyes closed, spreading his fingers inside as you sobbed above him.

“Please, please…” He didn’t know what you were begging for. He sucked, putting his entire mouth on you, licking up and down your sensitive clit. He pressed deep kisses before removing his fingers from your insides. He dipped his tongue deep inside of your tightness and he felt you tighten up, fisting your hand in his hair, rocking your hips.

“Sukuna!” Your eyes were filled with tears as he moaned for more of your virgin taste on his tongue. Hearing his name on your tongue had him throbbing but he resisted touching himself — wanting only to come in your tight pure virgin body.

“I’m going to— ah.” Your body snapped and shook but he continued to feast on your insides, his long tongue hitting all your sensitive spots and every muscle, you came around his tongue and he welcomed everything you gave him. Your walls fluttered against his tongue and your hands grabbed even deeper into his hair, toes curling and small sniffles filling the room.

He placed his tongue back to your sore clit and gave it a few more sucks before he smirked up at you, the pretty noises still in your throat as you tried your hardest to be quiet. Looking up at you with such desire that you felt yourself shrinking. “I was waiting so long for you…” He told you, standing to his full height. “Don’t know if I can let you go this time…”

You didn’t understand. You were still reeling down from such an orgasm. He inhaled against your neck. “Pretty little human. I’m not going to let you out of my sight. Too precious.” He took your lips again and you closed your eyes deeply, gripping his arm as you tasting yourself on his tongue.

When you finally pulled back and opened your eyes, you didn’t know where you were. All darkness surrounded you, dimly lit candles and a beautifully made canopy bed with dark sheets. You could see some sort of throne in the other part of this dark place, which took up almost the entirety of that space. The room seemed to go on forever, almost endless. You felt empty, he wasn’t there anymore. Confusion bled through your mind until you felt him take your hand, dragging you to the bed.

“What did you mean… with what you said moments ago?” You swallowed, trying not to look him in the eyes. But those deep red eyes made it almost too hard to do that. He stared you down before pushing you down to the bed.

“It means you’re mine. All mine.” His hot tongue trailed down your neck and it burned you, your weak legs thrusting against him. He lowered his hips flush against yours and you could feel just how big and thick his cocks were, it was almost disgusting how badly you wanted them. He sniffed and did a devilish grin at you. “Why fight it? You called me here. I have you. Don’t tell me you’re still scared… I won’t hurt you.” He promised.

The way his eyes held such sincerity you couldn’t look away. The flimsy material he wore, slipped off and you got a glimpse of everything he was hiding from you. The rippling abs and those dark marks similar to the ones on his face, you could feel yourself leaking when your eyes drifted to the pretty cocks he possessed.

Throbbing and veiny. Angry red tips coded in leaking creamy pre-cum. You didn’t mean to but you licked your lips and he groaned in your ear: “Female, it looks like you want to taste my cocks…” More pre-cum dripped down and you were panting at the sight, something coming over you. With a trembling hand, you reached out between you both and gripped the base of one, he twitched in your hand but you didn’t stop your assault.

He was thick. You couldn’t imagine doing this to both of his cocks at the same time, you needed both of your hands just to cover just one of them. He thrusted his hips upward, sliding himself through your hands with strained moments. He didn’t want to cum, only wanted it to be inside of you but fuck, this was heaven.

You stroked him, nice and slow. Feeling every bit of him and keeping your clouded eyes on his, both of your breathings harsh and in sync, hot and turned on. Rubbing your thumb on the tip, you watched as a bit more liquid leaked out, slipping between your hands.

“Knees. Now.” He rasped, he needed to be in your tight little mouth now. He needed it. You barley had time to move before he was thrusting himself inside of your mouth. “Fuck…ing, pretty little mouth.” He muttered, thrusting his hips harshly in and out of your mouth. His other cock begging for attention, you squeezed it hard and be released a beautiful moan continuing his rhythm.

Swallowing around him, he bellowed. “Fuck!” He had manners and didn’t want to mess up his female’s hair but he wanted you to take him deeper into your mouth. Pulling you slightly by your hair, he buried himself deeper into your mouth. Bucking his hips, you slid your mouth up and down — saliva covering his length — then you lapped at the tip, rubbing your mouth on it before slipping him back into your throat. Moaning around his cock, then you decided to switch to his other cock.

He was amazed and his toes were curling, watching you. He could see just how much of him was buried in your throat. He could hear the amount of sucking and slurping and you still had time to fondle his balls.

He was going to cum. He could feel it in the pits of his belly. Sweet moans leaving your mouth and he couldn’t take it anymore. With a deep groan, he pulled you flush to his hips and came deep inside of your mouth, his other cock jerking and spasming — raining cum on your face.

He looked at your cum splattered face and his cocks grew hard again and he knew the perfect way to end the night. “Need to be inside of you, now.” He didn’t want anything to stop him. He didn’t clean you off or anything, he wanted to fuck you as filthy and dirty as you looked.

And he would.

He pulled down your panties and looked at your leaking cunt. Smiling in delight, “All this just from sucking my cocks…naughty girl.” He lined up both of his cocks to your small hole.

“Both of them?!” You squealed with wide eyes. “They can’t both fit…” You swallowed hard and he did a roar of heavy laughter.

“Gonna just stretch you out with this one,” He rubbed his throbbing tip along your slippery glistening folds as you cried out. “Then once you’re all full, gonna add my other cock and make you cum all night, my little human.”

He lined himself back against your tight heat, almost slipping inside, he eyed your face before he thrusted forward and buried himself inside of your virgin flesh. Your nails were digging into him as you screamed, it hurt bad.

He was so massive inside of you and your walls wouldn’t let him go, clinging to him. “So damn tight.” He groaned, his hips snapped and with each thrust he was able to get deeper and deeper.

He couldn’t bare to look at you, hearing your small sniffles was hard enough. He wanted this pleasurable for you. His fingers were fast on their way to your little clit that was already throbbing for his attention, he pressed two of them against you and felt you roll your hips against his with a sharp moan, “Ah!”

He did a few sloppy thrust, his balls hitting the cusp of your ass and he could tell that you were feeling good based off how you were reacting. “Please make me cum.” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Now with a newer angle he pressed deep into a gooey wetness that had your tongue out and you squeezing his cock even better than before.

He slammed his cock inside of you, now going at any intense speed. Rocking his hips into yours, trying to hit your sweet spot again. He pressed deeper inside of you, bottoming out. “Say my name.” He told you, softly against your lips before claiming them. His thrust going hard and reckless, stretching you out.

You felt so full, he reached down and jerked his other cock. Squeezing the tip and continuing to thrust faster, rocking the bed. “Say my name.” He said again, his hips slamming down on yours. He felt heavy inside of you and you couldn’t focus on him, drowning in a warmth of endless pleasure.

He bucked his hips and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up — to look into the mirror above you, watching yourself getting fucked before saying again: “Say my name.” This time annoyed and with a growl.

“Sukuna!” He pumped his cock inside of your little pussy, stretching it just for him and thrusting more — the hold your cunt had on his cock made him bite his lip when he withdrew himself slightly before slamming back inside.

Your eyes roll back when his tip hits your special spot again and your moans has him in a chokehold, “Sukuna, right there, please… again.” You arch your back and he grips your waist, pushing you back down into the mattress.

With a last long thrust, he fills your cervix with creamy cum that leaks out of you. His other cock bobbling before spraying you down as well, you clench around him for the final time and almost breathlessly you say his name again.

Body weak and your eyes fluttering. He pulls you closer to him and kisses your lips.

“My little human stuffed with my cum.” He purrs, wrapping a strong arm around you and you say something that he can’t hear as you drift and drift…

And drift to sleep.

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tallulah477 · 4 months

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Too Much

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Oral (female receiving), Kuru/Queue Play, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Cumming Untouched

Word Count: 2K

A/N: I wrote this entire thing today and I'm a little delirious right now so if you see mistakes - no you don't

Summary: Neteyam licks your pussy while you lick his kuru

Translations:

Kuru/Neural Queue - Used to bond with animals and other Na'vi

Yawne - Beloved

Tewng - Loincloth

Neteyam’s golden eyes are dazed and hooded as he gazes up at you from his spot between your thighs. His pupils are blown wide, so large they practically swallow up the entire iris, leaving just a thin ring of yellow around the edges. If you look hard enough, you can see your own reflection mirrored in them - mouth open and gasping for air, hands tangled in your hair just to have something to hold onto as Neteyam devours your puffy pussy like his most favorite meal.

His face is wet as he presses harder against you, mouth and chin glistening in the sunlight from where your wetness coats them. His flat nose bumps your clit as his tongue presses deeper inside of you, your soaked hole clenching around his invading tongue. He moans at the feel of you tightening around him, hot breath fanning over your pussy as he licks you deeper.

He looks drunk already, drunk on you and the taste of your juices on his taste buds. His ears flick at each and every moan and shaky sigh that escapes your lips, intent on catching them all as he eats you out, eager to earn more of your pretty noises. He’s made you cum on his tongue once already, back arching and crying loudly, your shouts of pleasure echoing through the little meadow he has you spread out in as he growled into your cunt.

When you came down from your high, he didn’t stop. His dark honey eyes narrowed at you, as if daring you to try to move away from him as his hands readjusted their grip on your thighs. Your legs shook in his grip as he redoubled his efforts, spitting and sucking on your sensitive pussy like you had somehow deprived him of it for years instead of him going on a three day long hunting trip away from you.

Your squeals of overstimulation quickly turned back into wanton moans of pleasure as he worked you back up towards that point of bliss.

His tongue pulls from inside you, licking greedily up your puffy slit before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. Your back arches against the moss underneath you as he sucks on the aching bud, a high pitched whine tearing from your throat as one of your hands untangles from your hair and clutches at the back of his head.

Your legs spasm in his hold, thighs clenching around his head as your second orgasm shatters through you. You cry as your pussy clenches around nothing, the need to be filled up by Neteyam’s thick cock overwhelming as tears of pleasure drip from your eyes and cling to your lashes. You want him to fuck you so badly, want to feel him inside you, pounding your cunt and bruising your cervix with his powerful thrusts until your too dumb and cockdrunk to even remember your own name.

But he won’t. He’s so mean, leaving you for days, all alone without your mate to fill you up like you deserve. And then he comes home, gorgeous and loving and desperate for you, and he still won’t give it to you.

And he’s not done with you either.

He works you through the end of your orgasm - plush, sinful lips letting go of your still pulsing clit in favor of pressing gentle kisses to the inside of your thigh. He allows you a moment of respite this time, letting you try to regain your breath, sucking in as much air into your lungs as you can from what the oxygen tubes in your nose provide. But he’s still holding your thighs open, fingers gripping into the delicate flesh as his kisses along your skin get more heated.

“You can give me another one, won’t you?” He mumbles, voice raspy and deep with a need he still hasn’t quenched. Your hole clenches again from the sound of it despite itself.

“Teyam,” You whimper, your hand on his head trying in vain to keep his wandering kisses away from your oversensitive core. “T-too much. Can’t,”

“Yes, you can,” He says, pressing a feather light kiss to your clit. “Just one more. I swear.”

He dives back in again, soaked face suffocating itself as he presses tightly against your center. His tongue laves over your sticky cunt, pressing flat as he licks up your abused slit. Your eyes squeeze shut as his rough tongue swipes against your raw clit, shocks of a glorious combination of pleasure and pain shooting up your spine and frying your brain as you cry out underneath him.

Your hand claws at the back of his head, torn between wanting to shove his head away and keeping it pressed against your core as he drowns himself in your juices. Your hand pushes through his hair, the smaller braids moving and caressing against your smaller fingers as they subconsciously find the thick braid at the back of his skull. Your fingers wrap around the braid as best as they can, gripping onto the base of his kuru, using your hold on the most intimate part of him as leverage as your body decides to keep him where he is.

Neteyam groans against your clit when you accidentally squeeze tighter, hand closing around the neural queue with a vice-like grip. It’s so much louder than normal, the guttural groan echoing through the meadow. Your head snaps up, hand immediately loosening its hold on the braid, worried that you’ve hurt him.

“Shit, Tayem. Are you–”

But he whines at the loss of contact, one of his hands untangling itself from its grip on your thigh to grab yours and replace it back at the base of his kuru.

Your fingers wrap around it again, giving another experimental squeeze and watching as Neteyam grunts, eyes fluttering shut at the pressure, and wrapping his lips around your clit again, sucking harshly in retaliation. The suction on your aching clit makes you squeeze tighter, twin whines of pain mixed with pleasure echoing from both of your mouths at the rough treatment on your sensitive parts.

Your legs tremble, hips bucking into Neteyam’s mouth as he uses his iron grip on your thighs to keep your hips pressed against the moss covered ground. To distract yourself from Neteyam’s torture on your cunt, your fingers trail down the length of his kuru, gentle fingers stroking the glossy hair braided around the queue as you pull it over his shoulder.

Neteyam purrs and the vibrations on your cunt only serve to make you wetter. You can feel yourself dripping down your asscheeks - strings of your own wetness, cum, and Neteyam’s spit curving over your bottom and dripping onto the forest floor beneath you. Movement from Neteyam’s lower half catches your attention as his hips hump slowly against the ground. His golden eyes glare up at you, flicking between your own and the image of his most sacred body part held vulnerable in your hand. His mouth is full, and he doesn’t seem to be willing to part with your drenched core for even a second to say what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t have to - his eyes say it all, daring you to do what you’ve always wanted.

Play with me, yawne. Do it.

Your breathing is shaky as you slide your hand down to the tip, fingers curling around the thinner end of his kuru before twisting your wrist and encouraging the tips of his hair to fall apart, exposing the glowing pink tendrils that are housed inside. Neteyam’s tongue swipes frantically up and down along your slit, a testament to how restless he is as he watches you examine the exposed bits of his nervous system.

The tendrils writhe under your gaze, just as restless and excited as their owner as they wriggle around helplessly in your grip. They seem like they’re reaching for you, twisting and leaning towards you as far as they can stretch. You’ve always wanted to touch them, wanted to feel what they would feel like on your fingers. They would wrap around you so tight, but at the same time so delicate, just like they twine around each other when Neteyam bonds with the Spirit Tree.

Your free hand reaches up, fingers just a breath away from finally touching those pink tendrils. They reach back for you, stretching towards your outstretched fingers, desperate for something to bond with. Neteyam stops his assault on your cunt, heavy breath fanning over you as he stares up at you in awe, waiting with bated breath for the moment your tiny fingers make contact with them.

But the look on his face has you feral, and the thought that he’s tormented you with this tongue all afternoon has you dropping your hand away from the pink, wiggly tendrils and replacing them with your tongue instead. Neteyam cries out at the first touch of your tongue, eyes rolling back into his head as his upper body shoots up, one of his hands slamming against the ground as full bodied shivers wrack his body. The tendrils feel electric on your tongue, writhing and frantic as you slowly drag your tongue over them. They try to grip onto the wet muscle, but they can’t find purchase as it glides against them. They slide off your tongue when you reach the tips, squirming in the air before you bring them to your tongue again, loving the way they try to attach to you but can do nothing but twitch and wiggle under your devious torment.

Neteyam collapses back into the cradle of your thighs, momentarily forgetting about your cunt as his head rolls to the side, eyes squeezing shut as he digs his face into the inside of your thigh, whimpering like he’s being tortured. Good, you think, grinning as you continue to tongue at the sensitive nerves. Payback’s a bitch.

But as soon as the thought materializes, his mouth is back on you again, hot and insistent on your clit as he glares up at you again like he can hear what you’re thinking. He shakes his face against your pussy, animalistic growls vibrating into your cunt as his fingers dig into the fat of your hips. You squeal, moaning loudly against the tendrils sitting on your tongue and Neteyam lets out a low whine, hips once again humping into the ground underneath him, faster and more desperate as he grinds his aching cock against the moss. You’ve never seen his eyes so hazy before. Somehow he’s with you - here, in this moment - and also someplace far away at the exact same time. He licks your clit with a renewed vigor, pleasure shooting through your body with each perfect swipe of his tongue, and you make sure to reward each and every one of his licks with a lick of your own against his tendrils.

Another orgasm rushes towards you, relentless and damning as the coil in your belly tightens past the point of no return. It threatens to tear you apart when it hits, washing over you in a mixture of overstimulation and pure bliss, and you cum on Neteyam’s tongue for the third time today - shaking and moaning with the tendrils still wrapping eagerly around your tongue.

When you come back to yourself, Neteyam is climbing over you, still panting as he holds himself up with one arm. He gently grabs the top of his kuru with one hand, fingers curling around your smaller ones where the braid stops before the visible nerves peek out. With a deep shaky breath, he pulls his kuru back, slowly dragging the glowing tendrils from their found happy place along your tongue. They separate, held only together by a thin strand of saliva before that breaks away too, and you can feel yourself mourn the loss already.

“You’re a bad girl, yawne,” He says, cupping your cheek tenderly. “Abusing something so sacred like that.”

“And you’re a bad boy,” You reply, smirking as your eyes fall to the large wet patch now visible in his loincloth. “Good boys don’t cum in their tewngs untouched like that.”

Neteyam hums, leaning down to nip playfully at your chin. “You definitely touched me, that’s for sure,”

You giggle, a teasing hand gently caressing the painstakingly braided cord still handing over his shoulder. “Can I touch it again?”

Neteyam’s smile is blinding as he leans down to kiss you.

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11

#𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✎#neteyam smut #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x human reader smut

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shootingmorningstar · 3 months

Note

Was inspired by bambygourl’s fanart and a TikTok I saw. Dressing up as Roger and Jessica Rabbit for a costume party with Lucifer. I think he’d be all pouty and grumpy about dressing up as such a silly character and not a suave charming character. Especially since he’d take a look at the white button up, red trousers with suspenders, and blue bow tie with yellow polka-dots and see it as a fashion nightmare XD. And don’t get him started on the bunny ears and tail. Tho his mood is sufficiently uplifted when he sees the reader dressed up as Jessica Rabbit. Low cut red dress with a slit and all. Just imagine pulling on his suspenders or bow tie for a kiss, getting lipstick on his mouth and face, and cooing over how adorable and handsome her honey-bunny is.

I've been meaning to get to this request ever since I saw it because it is just so good. I'm definitely biased for anything Lucifer related but god this is just so cute. Anon, your brain is outstanding. I love pouty Lucifer. If you still have that tiktok on hand or ever come across it again, do you think you could send it my way .ᐣ

You didn't include what kind of request you wanted though, and my default is HCs -- but I couldn't help but throw in a little drabble based on them, too. Or, at least I intended it to be a drabble .ᐣ It got away from me, haha.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀Lucifer and Female Reader Dressing

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Up As Roger and Jessica Rabbit ~

Lucifer is initially thrilled when you bring up wanting to attend a famous yearly costume party in Pride with him. A chance to show you off sounds amazing, and he's great with costumes. Just the thought of you two matching is enough to get him excited.

You seemed just as excited as he was -- in fact, he was even more excited when you told him you'd already had something in mind .ᐟ He's pestering you to tell him just what the costumes were as soon as the plan leaves your lips, but much to his displeasure, you refuse, saying you want to keep it a surprise.

You'd even managed to resist the very strongest puppy-dog eyes and pout. Impressive. He usually succeeds in getting his way with that one -- who could ever say no to that face .ᐣ Having exhausted his options, he sighs his defeat.

Well, nearly exhausted his options. He was entirely too ready to pretend that you'd won and snoop through your closet the second you walked away. Apparently his quick glance at said closet had given him away though, and with a quick deadpan stare alongside a scary sounding ❛ don't you dare. ❜ has his feet rooted to the floor.

Did his poker face really suck so bad .ᐣ He's definitely practicing it in the mirror later.

Ultimately, though, he trusts you completely and your choice in matching outfits is no exception, so he allows it to drop for now. There's still a few more days until the party, but that time could be spent much more productively by your side rather than whining about clothing.

That is, until the day of the party comes around and you bring out his outfit. You'd never seen Lucifer's jaw drop quite like that before and it takes iron will to stop yourself from giggling at his present state.

He doesn't understand the reference. Lucifer regrets his past decision to give humanity free will. It's obvious, even if he never seems to say it outright. He had given out such a precious gift and so much of humanity chose to abuse it, to be nothing but cruel. Looking at sinners and by extension humanity is just a terrible reminder of what he'd done, so he prefers to avoid it whenever possible. This quite often includes the media of the living realm -- he's never even heard about the movie, forget seeing it.

So without the full context, all he knows is that you've just handed him an absolutely atrocious outfit -- and to make it worse, you expect him to go out in it .ᐣ Seriously, he whinges, red overalls with a blue bow .ᐣ Rabbit ears .ᐣ And to make it worse, you won't even show him your outfit until he gets dressed .ᐟ He can't believe you're laughing.

He sounds completely and totally ridiculous, in your defense. Seriously, has he seen his regular outfit .ᐣ He looks absolutely stunning, sure -- but he also looks like he walked right out of a circus.

It says a lot, though, that despite the complete and total pity party he's currently throwing himself, he's beginning to shuffle into the costume anyway. He's grumbling the whole way, but the fact that he just doesn't have it in him to say no to you warms your heart.

You had been so, so eager about this party, and the way your eyes had shined like stars when you told him had long since burned itself into his heart.

wc ; 1.2k

His seemingly endless complaints had tapered off ever so slightly when you shimmied his grasp off of the ruby red suspenders sagging unbuttoned over his chest. By the time you take the fabric into your own hands his protests faded to little more than a mumble under his breath, and with the very first snap of a button in place under your gentle touch he'd quieted completely. Where a look of exasperation had reflected off his face seconds prior, in its place now is that of silent awe, his gaze trained on your every action. The gesture of intimacy is enough to leave Lucifer somewhat choked up, his heart still not used to receiving such acts of adoration and kindness. You tie the cornflower blue fabric adorned with tiny yellow spots into a bow to accentuate the costume and cover his hands briefly with your own as you slip the gloves onto his fingers.

Not twenty minutes had passed, and he finds his attitude regarding the ensemble shifting with every second you take to assist him into it. Each and every part of it looks ridiculous at best, but the thought of you picking it out solely for him has him warming up to the idea.

Declaring your work complete, you raise your grasp ever so slightly, palms holding each of his cheeks close, your thumbs rubbing soft little circles below his eyes. Your affections are sufficient only when finished with a kiss placed on his forehead. ❛ I'm going to go get dressed, okay .ᐣ No peeking. I promise I'll be right back. ❜

The way his wrists on instinct dart out to catch yours to bring you close to him again as you pull back nearly got you. He's extended his lips in a pout once more. You hate to leave him quite so sad looking but you know he'll appreciate what you have planned enough for it to be worth it.

Bathroom door shutting closed behind you, there's the smallest bit of lingering regret that he can't help you to get dressed like you had for him. The outfit itself takes you barely a few moments to slip into -- it's the makeup that requires precision, time and effort. His pacing around the bedroom is audible, impatient steps sounding into stomps, the sounds causing you to choke on a laugh. You need a steady hand for your eyeshadow and that's hard to maintain during an act quite as cute as this.

Nonetheless, your look is finished within half an hour and therefore Lucifer is put out of his misery. It's not a second after the door clicks open that his attention is caught, snapped to the light peaking out of the doorway. Stepping into the small hallway, your eyes are met with his own -- and the way his pupils widen as soon as he gets a glance of your dress makes both your efforts and his complaining worthwhile. His gaze takes you in from top to bottom, each detail enchanting him further. The dress so perfectly hugging your curves is crimson to match him and absolutely breathtaking -- and are you walking towards him .ᐣ Your strut does well to accentuate the slit stitched into the leg, your thigh tantalizing in its display.

Finally reclaiming your place beside him, one of your fingers reaches out, finding purchase under his chin -- and when you tilt his head up you swear you saw his eyes flash red. ❛ Hello, my darling husband, ❜ you coo, sending his already overloaded brain into a frenzy. Husband . . .ᐣ You wanted . . .ᐣ With him, really . . .ᐣ And although he's beginning to put the pieces together and clue in that such a term of endearment was part of your match, you seemed so happy to say it. He snaps his focus back onto just how stunning you look tonight, but the idea has firmly implanted itself into the depths of his mind.

Back into the present time, his hands have begun to roam -- he wants to commit every detail of you to memory, and that includes the feeling of your dresses fabric under his fingertips. His grasp is met with your own, for it's not long before you're pulling the straps of his suspenders, tugging him forward into a kiss. By the time he's recovered from his surprise enough to reciprocate, though, you're already beginning to pull away. He chases your lips with a whine but you've already moved on, pressing a kiss first to his cheek and then to his forehead. It's only when you offer him a small compact mirror does he understand -- each of your kisses has left behind a little bit of the lipstick you oh so painstakingly applied. Your marks on his face have left him entranced, desperately craving more.

A gasp rips itself from those same cherry red lips in surprise -- you weren't expecting him to summon forth his tail, much less wrap it around your midsection and use it to bring you closer. ❛ Kiss me again, ❜ He pleads, desperate and breathy. ❛ Anything for my honey bunny, ❜ you chime, matching the mark on his left cheek with one on the right. ❛ You just look so cute, ❜ between each kiss is another offering of praise and compliments, the blush left in your wake matching excellently. ❛ Who's my handsome bunny .ᐣ ❜

Your multitude of kisses has left Lucifer stunned and looking nothing short of angelic -- even more so than usual. You're fully intending on giving him several more, leaning in to do just that when the wall mounted clock besides you chimes a new hours arrival, alerting you to the time. ❛ Oh, dear. I'm very sorry, Mr. Rabbit, but I'm afraid we simply must be going. We don't want to be late, do we .ᐣ ❜

Fixing your lipstick takes all of a few seconds, leaving you free to grab a makeup wipe off the pouch resting atop your vanity and wipe all of the stains you'd adorned his face with away. A snap of his wrist catches yours just inches from his face, however, halting your plans in their tracks. Confused, you look to him for an explanation, a soft ❛ leave them. please .ᐣ ❜ being all he offers you. ❛ You're going to go to the party like this, love .ᐣ ❜ to which he nods sagely. He can't bear to part with them -- not when the lipstick marks are yours, not when they declare proudly that he is yours.

❛ If you say so, honey. ❜ You can't deny that the prospect leaves your heart fluttering. A grand, golden portal appears with a simple snap of his fingers and he takes your arm, now linked with his own in an attempt to usher you forward. He can't wait to show you off, to watch as other demons eyes glow green as they stare his way. You stay still, though, prompting him to look back at you with an air of confusion. It's then that you lean close, whispering ❛ be a good bunny and there will be more where that came from. too bad we'll have to wait until we come home, hmm .ᐣ ❜

Suddenly Lucifer can't wait for this party to be over.

I still can't believe I'd originally intended this to be 100 words and it ended up over a thousand. I can't help it, I'm so weak for anything Lucifer related. I'm half tempted to write an absolutely filthy post party part 2. If there's enough demand for it .ᐣ I just might.

As always, let me know what you think .ᐣ Hearing back from you guys keeps me motivated ~

275 notes · View notes

loviatarsluv · 2 months

Note

Request!

I posted details here, it’s for Gale!

https://www.tumblr.com/cherifrog/739699979425333248/anyone-else-interested-in-like-a-super-jealous

YUHHHHH now THIS is what im talkin about!!!!!!!

*cracks knuckles* lets get this party started shall we

(I am so sorry to be answering this literally a million years too late I’ve redone and rewritten this prompt like 100000 times but I finally like this version!!! so here we go!!!)

Gale x AFAB f!tav

rating: oh boy this one is certainly rated M for mature

CW: smut, inappropriate use of mage hand, rough sex, PiV, oral, gale being jealous and going absolutely FERAL

word count: 5.4k

let’s get itttt

If looks could kill, surely, Astarion would have been long dead— well, even more so— by now.

Gale was never exactly fond of the pale elf from the start, and he was well aware the feeling was likely incredibly mutual— but gods, he swore he was beginning to actually hate him.

At least, he hated the way he looked at her. The way he leered at her. The way he purred her name with that practiced and over-rehearsed seductive charm of his. The way he would lock piercing crimson eyes with Gale’s blazing umber ones as he cozied up to her at the fire with that deviant and knowing smirk on his stupid pointy face. The way she would smile at him the warmest, kindest, most hopelessly and adorably oblivious smile in response to the charlatan’s blatant advances.

Maybe he did hate him, upon further reflection. If only for the last reason alone.

Astarion would find any way to touch her and be able get away with it— his hand lingering on the small of her back as he passed her, touching her shoulder to get her attention, brushing hair out of her face when stray pieces fell over her eyes— all things that seemed innocent enough until you realized who was doing them and the devious smirk on his face when his gaze would meet that of the wizard that was surely plotting his second untimely demise.

Though, he could hardly blame him.

And Gale never got upset with her, of course, he knew it wasn’t her fault and honestly, he truly didn’t blame Astarion for wanting her— gods, who could possibly resist her?

Certainly not Gale, not even if he tried; and he had tried, to no avail. Yet that didn’t quell his frustration toward the silver haired and equally silver tongued vampire for attempting to swoop in on what was likely the first real chance at mortal love he’d had in a very long time.

He’d spent the early days in their adventure together absolutely beside himself with how taken he was by her nearly instantly. He felt like a smitten schoolboy all over again when he thought about the feeling of her soft but strong hands gripping his as she pulled him from the stone by the nautiloid crash with most impressive ease, the way she looked at him with wonder and curiosity, and even a flicker of something else that he recognized as attraction because he imagined it was mirrored in his own face at the sight of her.

It was then only worsened by the night that they channeled the weave together and the kiss she’d pictured them sharing— the way their limbs tangled and their lips pressed together softly, then passionately and fervently. Her fingers wrapped in his chestnut tresses and his hands gripping the fabric at her waist— that image will be burnt into the fabric of his mind forevermore, he’s certain.

Not to mention, the way her pupils dilated and her cheeks flared and flushed a heavenly shade of pink at the way he praised her as she successfully mimicked the incantation and his motions. It was enough to have him panting and attempting to tame the straining erection in his trousers when he retired to his tent that night.

He thought he’d mastered the art of managing to keep such thoughts like that at bay during his time of isolation as he tried to keep the orb sated and calm and very nonexplosive— but that was before her, after all.

It was pathetically easy at the time, considering his amount of interaction with other humans had gone from healthy to nonexistent entirely so he didn’t have much to think about aside from himself; perhaps when he was truly desperate or feeling especially lonely, he’d think about Mystra and the nights he’d spent in Elysium with her (literally and metaphorically).

But now, any attempts to be chaste or think chaste thoughts were moot in her presence.

Especially after the night they shared under the stars in the wilderness of the Shadow Cursed Lands.

They’d hardly been able to go more than a few hours without some kind of touch in the days following that perfect evening— whether it be a hand on her lower back, or holding one of her much smaller hands in his as he helped her scale a wall or hop across a boulder that she was more than capable of managing herself. A stolen kiss when no one was looking. Or, if they were lucky, they could steal a few moments alone in some ruined and crumbling crypt where he could bury himself between her thighs and send a silent thank you to whatever gods had a hand in creating a creature as divine as her.

That being said, they hadn’t been entirely discreet about their affections— not that they really wanted to be. Gale certainly had no reservations about making it known that he was claiming her for himself, despite his gentlemanly nature chastising him for it and reminding himself she was a person, not a prize to be claimed.

He would never say that she was, anyway, do not mistake it— being raised solely by a woman such as the inimitable Morena Dekarios had beaten into his core that women were not to be claimed or to be owned but to be cherished and treated as your equal. He would never claim otherwise, he couldn’t.

On the other hand, he was also acutely aware that his were not the only set of eyes that wistfully tracked her every move and every breath throughout the day within their strange band of wayward souls, and a very base part of him needed to send the clearest message he could muster without flat out verbally declaring that she was his.

It was very unlike him, this sort of possessive and primal nature, but he couldn’t deny that a small fraction of himself that he usually shoved into the deepest recesses of his being loved it for that fact. It was a part of him reserved only for her, as she was the only one who’d ever been able to coax it out of him.

And thus, he felt absolved of any guilt about the way he glared daggers at the side of Astarion’s head and pictured hurling a fire bolt at the undead man as he spoke to her in hushed tones across camp.

At least he knew it wouldn’t kill him. Although, he’d probably slit Gale’s throat for singing his singlet in return.

It was enough to keep the heat in his palm at bay for the time being.

He tried to discreetly move close enough to hear their conversation, moving toward Wyll’s tent that happened to be just a few paces away from Astarion’s and disguising his intentions as simply having a chat over a glass of wine with the warlock.

Wyll’s eyes light up as the wizard approaches, shooting him a dashing and very princely smile that he was certain had made many a maiden swoon in his younger years as the duke’s son, galavanting through ballrooms and dragging said maidens to the dance floor after either one too many glasses of brandy or none at all.

“Gale, my friend! Fancy a glass of wine?” He kindly proposed, tilting the glass in his hand in Gale’s direction.

Gale offers an almost genuine smile, nodding. “Thank you, Wyll. I think a hearty glass of wine is just what I need at the moment,” he laments with a sigh.

Wyll disappears for only a moment before returning with a glass and wine bottle in hand. “That bad, huh?”

Gale gratefully takes the silver glass and holds it out for Wyll to pour the rest of the Amnan Liquer he’d been holding onto since their escapades at the former Rosymorn Monastery turned Githyanki Crèche.

He turns his body just enough to keep both his lover and the offending vampire in his line of sight, attempting to tune into their conversation and realizing that he can faintly hear the melodic hum of her voice, as well as the silky tones of Astarion’s.

Firebolt. No, no.

Wyll’s eyes dart between Gale, then Tav, then Astarion, his eyebrow raising. “Astarion certainly doesn’t lack in the gall department, I’ll give him that.”

Gale huffs a bitter laugh. “Can’t fault him. As much as I want to.”

Wyll gently bumps his shoulder into Gale’s with a reassuring smile. “One can’t always be a gentleman, Gale. I respect your restraint, but if I were you, even I would be cutting in on whatever it is that he’s doing with her. Love the fellow, but I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”

Gale goes silent, giving himself a moment to try to catch any of what was being said between them, only hearing the sound of her laughter intermingling with Astarion’s— and suddenly Wyll’s advice had become all the more tempting to follow.

I could just go over there, he thinks. ‘Assert my dominance’ the old fashioned way. Or…

A wickedly devious idea flutters across his mind, and a smirk forms on his lips. Before he can realize it and stop it, Wyll’s tadpole connects to his, and Wyll snorts as he sees what debauchery Gale’s brain had concocted.

“She’d have your arse in a second,” he jokingly warns. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Gale wanted to listen to reason (Wyll Ravengard being the voice of reason, in this instance) and just do the diplomatic thing as he always did— but a part of him wanted to make a show of it all. To show her as well as everyone else the lengths he’d go to for her.

He whispers a simple cantrip and waves his hand, blue light glowing from his palm as he calls for a spectral hand to appear before him. He eyes the mage hand for a moment, waving his fingers and watching it as it mirrors his movements with perfect accuracy. A rush of excitement passes through him as he ponders the possibilities, but debates for a moment whether he should— only to hear the lovely melody that was her laughter once again and his decision was sealed.

He commands the hand to become invisible, the only way for him to tell it was still there was the very faint outline of it that you could only notice if you had been looking for it. He flicks his hand in her direction, commanding it to fly toward her.

“Your funeral,” Wyll chuckles, taking a long sip from his chalice, eyebrows raised.

The hand obliges, quickly floating to her but stopping just beside her. She shivers slightly as it grazes her bare shoulder, her head snapping in the direction of the sudden sensation.

Gale freezes for a moment, praying she doesn’t catch on too soon. When she finally turns her attention back to Astarion, he relaxes, then motions for the hand to gently brush her hair over her other shoulder, causing her to jump and look again, her eyes narrowed as she scans the area. Her gaze lands on Gale, and he tries to remain composed but cannot hide the pleased smirk on his face. She furrows her brows, a look of confusion and suspicion on her face as she turns away once again. She still hadn’t caught on just yet, much to Gale’s delight.

He continues once again, now commanding the hand to gently caress the back of her neck, the cool sensation of its spectral palm causing goosebumps to rise and her hair to stand on end. She sucks in a sharp breath, causing Astarion’s eyes to snap up to her.

“Everything alright, dear?” He hears Astarion ask, his signature shit-eating grin still on his lips.

She nods, clearing her throat. “Mhm, sorry, I just— ah, got a bit chilly.”

He cocks a brow at her. “I would offer to warm you, but I don’t think that I am qualified for the task,” he jokes, causing Gale’s jaw to clench.

Firebolt. Ooh, better yet, Fireball. Ice knife. Lightning bolt, perhaps?

She laughs, then gasps once again as the hand has now relocated to the front of her, gently tracing the outline of her collar bone. It then follows the curve of the top of her breast, settling between her cleavage for a moment before continuing down further and further, grazing her abdomen before stopping just at the waistline of her breeches.

“Gods, I shouldn’t be watching this,” Wyll grunts, shaking his head and allowing his gaze to drop to the ground.

She turns and shoots a piercing look at Gale, now fully aware of what was happening. He winks at her, before commanding the hand to continue its journey down her body, ghosting over the spot between her thighs. She squeezes her legs shut tight, in an attempt to quell the heat pooling low in her core despite her rising frustration toward Gale and her embarrassment.

“Darling, do you need a blanket? Perhaps we could move into my te—”

“I’m fine,” She blurts, loud enough so that she knows Gale hears her, as she refuses to give in to his childish behavior. “What were you saying?”

As Astarion continues whatever riveting story he’d been telling before she distracted him, she shoots Gale one last pathetic glance, not sure whether she was begging him to stop or keep going. He smirks, taking her pleading eyes as his queue to continue, moving the mage hand southward and grazing her blazing hot center.

She sucks in another breath, this time a lot quieter, her head falling back that she attempts to play off as if she were simply looking up at the stars.

Astarion’s head shoots up to look at her again, almost as if he were beginning to get frustrated.

“S-stars are bright tonight,” She stammers, eliciting a chuckle from Gale. He was enjoying this far too much to stop now.

He wills the hand to press two fingers down right where he knows her clit is, reveling in the way her back arches at the sudden touch, right where he knew she loved it.

Astarion’s eyebrow raises as he eyes her, her face flushed, her hair in disarray and her legs clamped shut tight. He was— unfortunately for her— very good at reading body language, even more specifically hers, and he was beginning to catch on to her predicament. His eyes dart over toward Gale who was not at all subtle with the devious smirk on his face as his hand continued commanding the spell.

“Your wizard is clever, I’ve got to hand it to him.” He smirks, stifling a chuckle.

Her eyes go wide, the hot blush in her cheeks only increasing.

“I’m going to kill him.” She hisses through gritted teeth, before twisting and facing Gale, who could not contain the triumphant grin on his face despite her very displeased expression.

“Do it out where I can watch, won’t you, darling? I’m quite overdue for a good show.” He calls after her, watching her storm toward Gale, shaking his head and chuckling with delight.

Gale dismisses the spell as he spots her making a very angry beeline toward him, then crosses his arms behind his back innocently as she approaches him.

“I warned you, you cheeky bastard.” Wyll grumbles, watching with anticipation and vaguely hidden amusement as she stomps toward the wizard beside him with murderous intent.

Gale offers her a smile as she approaches, to which she only offers a grimace.

“Hello, my love. Feeling alright?” He says equally as innocently, in spite of the devilish grin on his face.

She shakes her head. “Tent. Now.”

He raises his hands in defense, shit-eating smirk ever persistent. “Your wish is my command, darling.” He draws out the pet name to mimic the way Astarion says it, earning a rather angry eye roll.

He trails behind her as she continues her warpath toward his tent, his heart racing as he imagines exactly what he plans to do the second he gets her alone— he’d saved those thoughts for after Wyll’s tadpole’s connection broke from his own to spare him the filthy details.

She ducks into his tent brusquely, the flap slapping closed behind her before he makes his own way in after her. He chuckles at her ire, and the fact that in any other situation he’d be on his knees begging her for forgiveness in response to her irritation toward him— but this time, he planned on using it much to his advantage. Fuel for the fire, so to speak.

The second he enters the tent, her wild eyes are on him and she’s standing with her arms crossed over her chest which was still heaving, her face still completely flushed.

“What the hells is wrong with y—”

Her tirade is cut off by lips roughly crashing onto hers, her words being instantly smothered then swallowed by him and his tongue and the bittersweet taste of wine on his breath. She wants to fight back but finds her efforts moot as she instantly melts into him, allowing him to maneuver her exactly as he wishes.

Rough but elegant hands grip her waist, pulling her body flush to his, enough for her to feel the erection straining to be freed from his pants against her lower stomach. The heat that had been coiling and pooling low within her had only reignited with a vengeance now, partially fueled by her anger toward him and mostly fueled by her ever present desire for him.

His hands migrated to palm the swell of her ass, kneading the plush but still firm flesh that always caught his attention even in the worst moments such as the middle of a tense battle— something he almost felt the need to punish her for, even though it wasn’t truly her fault.

His tongue explores her mouth hungrily as her hands move to begin undoing the buttons of his linen shirt, before one of his hands catches her wrist and holds it, lacing her fingers through his. He breaks the kiss, dark umber irises pooling with pure liquid lust and carnality as they meet her more perplexed ones.

Leaving her unspoken questions unanswered, he unbuttons her pants with one hand, yanking them down her legs until she takes it upon herself to kick them off and discard them somewhere on the ground within the tent. He tugs at the bottom edge of her shirt, and she wordlessly grants him permission with only a small nod and a raise of her arms to afford him some ease in ripping it over her head and adding to the growing pile of clothes scattered across the floor of the small space.

She’s lit only by the soft orange glow of the campfire leaking in through the crack of the tent flap that neither of them had bothered to seal, her skin radiant even in the dimness of the night. He drinks in her frame, eyes skimming along every contour of her body, every rounded edge and every sharp one— even the shadow she cast against the back wall of his tent was erotic, all hips and curves and the most heavenly structure.

As if she’d been lovingly built by Sune’s own gracious hands.

“Lay down,” he commands, pointing to the bedroll that he’d preemptively fixed and made extra comfortable with several more layers of blankets, pillows, and furs. “And spread your legs for me.”

She obliges instantly, quickly but gracefully laying atop the nest of cotton and fur and velvet, her hair splaying around her head and framing her like a halo— only serving to make his already painfully stiff cock twitch against the fabric of his pants and a bead of precum leak from the tip. He feared he may not even be able to make it long enough to be inside of her at this rate.

“That’s my girl,” he almost moans, his voice low and husky and reverent as he drops to his knees before her, moving to kneel between her legs. “My beautiful girl.”

She blushes and shyly looks away, her bottom lip caught between her teeth to bite back a smile. He leans over her, gently gripping her chin with his fingers and moving her face back to look at him. “Eyes on me, my love. My love.” He drawls, dragging out his words in hopes that they’d have more time to sink into her precious mind that he cherished just as much, if not more than her wholly divine body.

Gale was all together a typically patient man. He did almost everything meticulously and gracefully. He would spend hours studying a particular topic just to ensure that he’d get it right the very first time.

Gale as a lover was no different.

He’d spent hours and even days at this point learning everything he could about her body— every sensitivity, every weak spot, ticklish spot, every scar or freckle or blemish. The things she was insecure or shy about, the things that would send her eyes rolling back into her head.

He had become a consummate virtuoso at worshiping her body and what granted her the most pleasure possible. He lavished her in it, bathed her in every ounce of bliss he possibly could until she could no longer speak, much less think properly.

Tonight was no exception— though he was considerably less delicate than was typical for him, as he hungrily lapped at the heat between her thighs as if it contained the last drop of honey on the face of Faerun. He licked and kissed and sucked and drank in every bit of her essence he possibly could, not stopping even after she’d already come just to wring out every last bit of her pleasure for his own selfish need. The selfish need to taste her, to savor her. To devour her.

He didn’t stop until she was a tangled mess of shaking limbs and clammy skin and teary eyes, and she whimpered his name like a plea. Whether it were a plea to stop or to keep going was unclear for both of them.

He lifted his face, his beard and lips drenched in her slick as he licked the remains of her off of his lips and fingers, causing her to clamp her legs together at the sight. He smirks triumphantly, knowing full well that she was nearing being entirely spent and yet she still wanted more.

“Please,” she whimpered, leaning up (very unsteadily) to finish unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers fumbling with the buttons and the fabric. He relents and allows her to make her best attempt with her trembling fingers before he takes over for her, lifting it over his head and discarding the linen nearby.

Her finger gently trails from the dark purple mark of the orb on his chest down the hard planes of his torso until she reaches the waistband of his pants, dipping her finger underneath and tugging at it. Her eyes meet his full of intent, and he feels the tadpole in his head stir as she tries to connect to him.

I need to suck your cock. Please.

His eyes darken as he looks at her, the image of her perfectly pink lips wrapped around him searing into his mind— whether it being his own thoughts or hers invading his didn’t matter— but he shakes his head, then severs the connection.

She frowns, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He rubs his thumb along the swollen softness of it as he caresses her chin, tilting her head back slightly to get a better view of the elegant column of her neck. He had plans for the perfect and smooth expanse of the area between her jaw and her clavicle that he soon intended to enact. But not yet.

“Naughty girl,” he chastises her, but not without a devious smirk and a hint of lustful playfulness.

She whimpers again, sending goosebumps down his arms and the hair on them to raise on end. “Please, Gale. I want to make you feel good, I need to make you feel good,” she stammers, her eyes peering up at his, wanton and needy.

It was enough to almost oblige her request, but he knew if her mouth came anywhere near his already all too sensitive cock that he’d come apart at the seams instantly, and that just wouldn’t do.

“And I need to be inside of you,” he retorts, his voice soft but stern. “I need to claim what’s mine.” He nearly growls.

Gentleman Gale reprimands him in his mind, but is quickly overtaken by Her Gale— the one that only answers to her and belongs solely to her. The one that hoped with everything in him there was also a part of her that was his and only his.

Her mouth opens to speak, and he half expects her to yell at him and berate him for reducing her to a prize to be claimed— and is pleasantly surprised when she doesn’t.

“Please. Please come here, please fuck me,” she begs, the rasp in her voice as she does nothing short of absolutely erotic.

He needs no further instruction, and quickly removes his pants and undergarments, his erection springing free and already slick with his own desire. She eyes it with a hunger that he recognizes and has to ignore before the temptation to fuck her mouth grows any stronger.

He presses his strong but gentle hand against her chest, slowly pushing her back against the pillows as he moves to position himself at her entrance, her legs wrapping around his hips and urging him forward impatiently. He taps the side of one of her thighs in warning, rubbing the head of his cock across her already soaked folds to further lubricate it and tease her.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you?”

She whines, her voice broken as if she truly might cry if she goes another second without him inside her. “Gale.”

He chuckles darkly, once again pressing the swollen head of his cock at her entrance, slipping in as slowly as he can manage, mustering every bit of strength and willpower he has left not to just bury himself in her as deep as he can.

“Tell me,” he commands, his voice low and gruff but still needy, almost desperate.

She connects the dots instantly, knowing exactly what he wanted. What he craved. “I’m yours, Gale. Only yours.”

She cries out in shock, slight pain, and pure ecstasy as he harshly snaps his hips into hers, his cock burying to the hilt in her velvet heat.

Home. This felt like home.

He knew that he probably should have given her more time to adjust to him, and it was something he’d surely feel guilty about later, but Her Gale wanted her to feel it tomorrow. He wanted her to be reminded of this moment as she goes on about her day through the ache between her legs as she walks, constantly reminding her who fucks her like this, who loves her like this.

“My pretty girl, my perfect girl,” he chants, his words leaving his lips like a litany of prayer as if he were in a temple of worship. He’d always been a man of religion, but this was holier and more divine than anything he’d ever experienced— even sharing a bed with an actual goddess couldn’t compare.

She throws her head back, her eyes shut tightly and she desperately grips at the pillows around her to ground herself, her neck on full display. He leans down to place wet kisses in a trail from her jaw to her collarbone, biting and sucking in very obvious spots that she’d be hard pressed to be able to cover in the morning.

She writhes and moans underneath him, one of her hands moving to grip the back of his head and fist the hair at the nape of his neck, the sensation of her fingers tugging at his scalp blending from slight pain into pure pleasure earning a throaty grunt from him that rumbles in his chest.

He feels her tighten ever so slightly around him, her walls clenching and pulsing in a sort of warning. He continues his pace, driving her closer and closer to the precipice.

“Gale, I’m gonna—”

“I know, sweet girl, I know,” he coos, leaning down and pressing his lips to her sweat slicked forehead, then whispering, “come for me, my love.”

It wasn’t so much a demand as a desperate request, as his need to feel her come on him and to ride out the waves of her pleasure alongside her became almost devastating.

To urge her on even further, he slipped a hand down and began to rub quick circles around her clit as he pounded into her until she saw stars— it wasn’t long before she completely shattered underneath him, tumbling into free fall off the edge of the best orgasm she’d ever had.

She cries out a jumbled mess of I love you and I’m yours with his name sprinkled throughout as she reaches the peak and dives off the edge, her hips rocking upward into Gale’s as he continues to fuck her through her orgasm. He feels himself quickly approaching his own finish line, the feeling of her cunt pulsing and hugging his cock tighter and tighter driving him further and further.

A few more thrusts and he was done for, spilling everything he had in her and grunting her name as he came, the entire fiber of his being ripping apart and repairing itself as he went limp above her, barely having enough strength to brace himself with his hands on either side of her head as he gripped the pillows so that he doesn’t crush her under his weight.

They both fall silent apart from the sounds of their breathing steadying and slowing to a calm and regular pace, the only other sounds being that of the distant crackling of the fire and the even more distant sounds of their companions still wrapping up for the night and preparing for bed.

Her eyes flutter open to find his in the dim light of the fire, her hand reaching up to caress his cheek. He sighs and leans into her touch, turning his head to place a kiss to the center of her palm, the coarse hair of his beard scratching her skin and tickling it, making her giggle quietly.

“I’m still mad at you, you know,” she jokes, causing him to nibble at the skin of her palm playfully. “That wasn’t funny, Gale.”

He smiles and reaches for a rag to clean her up with. “I had hoped this would serve as an adequate apology.”

She sucks in a breath as he pulls out and rubs the rag across her still sensitive and throbbing core, her hips bucking upward slightly with some discomfort. “You expected to fuck me into complicity?”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest as he finishes cleaning her, then tosses the rag aside and lays beside her, pulling her onto his chest.

“Not exactly,” he says, earning a disbelieving grimace from her. “I am sorry, for what it’s worth. I just— I don’t think you realize that seeing the way he interacts with you and the way you interact with him is nothing short of agonizing for me.”

She saw the hurt in his eyes even in the dark— the ache and the gnawing need for reassurance. She understood it all too well, as she’d done the same when the topic of Mystra would get brought up in the earlier days of their relationship.

“There is no other set of arms I’d rather have wrapped around me right now than yours. There is no other company I’d rather share in the way I share in yours. Don’t you know that?” She asked, shifting so that she’s leaning over him, his big brown eyes resembling those of a puppy being told it was a good boy.

“I am yours, Gale Dekarios,” she whispers. “Body and soul.”

Relief and pure elation smoothed out the concern from his features. He pulled her closer to him, until she was mostly on top of him and her head rested on his chest and he could press a long kiss against the top of her head, breathing in her scent and shutting his eyes, both of them drifting into a peaceful slumber.

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ofsappho · 3 months

Text

THE KNIFE OF MUAD'DIB (Paul x OC!Reader x Chani)

Wherein na-Duke Paul Atreides is not the Bene Gesserit's only prospect for the Kwisatz Haderach. Raised by Paul's side as his playmate and servant, Chryse, the Bene Gesserit's cuckoo child, will forge a new future for her master.

(previously posted on AO3 as Themis)

PART I: JESSICA

Lady Jessica focused her intent gaze on the Reverend-Mother’s... gift. This gaze, to which the minutiae of observation was second nature rather than practiced pretense, followed the lines of the girl-child’s high cheekbones up towards large eyes that appeared to overwhelm the face they were set in.

She’d seen that look in those eyes before. Perhaps a thousand times over, a million times over. Reflected in the mirror back at her on Wallach IX, reflected in the shadowed eyes of the girls she barely remembered. The girls that one by one fell, until amongst a hundred girls there stood five Bene Gesserit.

Jessica’s skirt rustled against the floor as she stalked closer, circling the child, examining every angle.

How interesting.

Such control in the child’s bearing, belied by such fear.

Paul had always been fascinated with off-world animals in the filmbooks; the agrarian creatures that inhabited Caladan for over twenty generations bore no thrill to her clever son. Jessica had never understood his fascination as the filmbooks rendered such organisms dead to her. Mere simulacrums of life with soulless eyes.

Perhaps one such simulacrum stood before her now in the form of a human girl. “Reverend-Mother, does she have a name?”

“We call her Chryse. However, if that name does not suit you, Jessica, you may name her as you wish. It is of no consequence to us.” Reverend-Mother Mohiam’s demeanor certainly hadn’t changed in the slightest from the days when she served her overtly. When Gaius Helen Mohiam spoke, everything from her inscrutable countenance to the even tones of her voice commanded subservience. “You will not harm nor bring harm to the girl-child. It is our one order.”

Jessica watched as Mohiam brushed her fingers against Chryse’s jaw to tilt her still face up towards the sallow light of the glow-globe. Not even a muscle twitched in her smooth facade. Jessica wondered what sort of chaos lay beneath, whether the girl would be like the jagged rocks under the beckoning surface of Caladan’s oceans. Only a fool would dive into the dark water blindly.

There was no other option but to acquiesce. “You have my word. She shall not come to harm under my care or the care of House Atreides.”

“Good.” A look passed between them, lasting only a second. Within that second lay an eternity.

The Reverend-Mother strode from the room with an economical gait, not sparing another iota of energy to look back.

Jessica knew then the precise nature of this “present”.

How many men had failed in the making of the Kwisatz Haderach? How many years, decades, centuries had her sisters carefully tended the most sacred plant, a mind that could bridge space and time. If Paul failed -

She stopped that fearful thought in its tracks, held it in the cradle of her mind’s eye, then let it pass through.

The Bene Gesserit were patient like mountains were patient. Time was an endless resource. It was better to cultivate many plants of good stock than to nurture a small garden and watch as its leaves shrivel and diel. Chryse was not and could never be the Kwisatz Haderach. Perhaps that fact ought to have assuaged Jessica’s fear. Yet - if Paul should die while he was only eleven, the House of Atreides forever extinguished, the child seemed poised to become the next vessel to carry the bloodline of the Kwisatz Haderach. Only ten years old, and she had mastered the prana-bindu like an adept three times her age. Who knew what sort of terror she had been bred to create?

Her son had already shown promise even without her training. Paul might flourish, grow into a man, grow into the mind that the universe needed. That would never come to pass if Chryse supplanted him.

Mohiam must have felt some minute degree of affection towards Jessica. If she hadn’t, the Reverend-Mother would not have left the girl in her care. The blade was double-edged; the Bene Gesserit cared not for which of the two survived, only that one of them did. Motherhood had softened Jessica to the point where she felt some empathy for her poor charge. Not enough empathy to entirely stay her hand, but enough that she wanted the girl to live. Enough that she intended to lift the burden of killing her from Paul’s narrow shoulders.

“Come here, girl.” Once she was close enough that the Bene Gesserit-trained woman could stretch out a single, finely-boned hand and press her fingers to the weapon’s temple, she bade her stop.

Jessica brushed her mind carefully up against Chryse’s, wary of the mind traps the girl had surely been taught from birth.

There were no traps. Not even a token protest.

Chryse had fewer defenses than a newborn infant. Her mind was splayed out in the open; even the slightest whisper of Voice guaranteed complete obedience. The Bene Gesserit had truly forged a weapon of a girl. She hadn’t a psyche of her own - where there should lay a personality was instead filled with iron bars of mind conditioning. Jessica’s heart ached for her. No child deserved to live like that.

A moment passed wherein she further plumbed the depths of her mind. Jessica knew then that Chryse could never use a Voice of her own. The same breeding that had left her mind wide open had left her unable to Speak. But of what use to the lineage of the Kwisatz Haderach was a girl entirely unable to use the Voice and critically susceptible to it?

The vision came on suddenly, as the waves did against the shores of Caladan. A figure whirled amongst dozens of men as they fell to their knees. The lady knew those movements by heart even though they felt wrong. It was the Weirding Way, without a doubt. At the same time, every action was utterly alien. Chryse moved through the battlefield like a valkyrie of old with hands that created ruination with every twitch. Her deficit of Voice was more than made up by her complete mastery over the physical realities of others. Lungs collapsed inwards; hearts refused to beat; nerves froze. Blood. Oceans of blood.

Without meaning to, her fingers fell away from the girl’s temple in astonishment and the vision dissipated like morning mist.

The Kwisatz Mother had bred an abomination.

The laws of nature should have forbidden such a being from coming into existence. No doubt, she wouldn’t have without the careful guidance of the Bene Gesserit. What infinite combination of genes could produce a person who could bend human bodies to their will? A weapon to be wielded against the very molecules of anatomy? Chryse had quite a bit further to go before she would become the war goddess Jessica saw in her vision, but her raw talent remained a cudgel poised over Paul’s head and ready to end his life.

This was an unacceptable outcome.

Forgive me, Jessica thought; forgive me for what I must do. “You will never harm Paul Atreides. You will never allow harm to come to Paul Atreides. You will always remain loyal to him and never betray him in the slightest. You will lay down your life for him.” She swallowed down her guilt as she watched her Voice take root in the blank shell of the young girl’s mind. That Chryse was now freed from Bene Gesserit absolute control was a small consolation for the crime done against her. For Paul to live, this girl must be subjugated.

Her wide, dark eyes blinked. There it was - a tiny spark of life in her young, solemn face. Chryse was just a girl. A young one, at that. Innocent. Guilt ensnared Jessica’s heart and held it in a chokehold. The sisterhood had not completely uprooted her weak personality, but there was no doubt that their conditioning program left permanent scars. Jessica’s Voice would not have affected Chryse nearly as much without it.

The lady resolved always to be tender to the girl. At a minimum, she could improve the quality of Chryse’s life. Jessica told herself this as she called for servants to take the girl, bathe her, dress her, and prepare a chamber for her near Paul’s. Was it so selfish of her to want her son to live? At any cost? Paul’s new companion would always be treated well and never punished. There were worse fates. For the Kwisatz Haderach, the Bene Gesserit could commit any number of sins.

But Jessica knew her mind and herself. This was a blood debt that she could never repay.

Paul would be safe, and the girl’s powers would never be used against him. That would be her consolation.

Her palms smoothed over the muscled plains of Leto’s back. The Duke was her husband in all but name, and Jessica reveled in how he relaxed at her touch. At the school on Wallach IX, she’d learned everything but the warmth of trust and partnership built from deep, mutual love. There was no room in the lives of the Bene Gesserit for any kind of love besides the love of the sisterhood. It was this trust and love that had led Jessica to birth Leto a male heir instead of the daughters she’d been commanded to produce.

Leto reluctantly pulled himself away from her to pick through some papers strewn across his desk. “What’s this I hear about a new handmaiden joining our household?”

Involuntarily, Jessica inhaled. “Ah, my new charge. Chryse. An orphan, Bene Gesserit trained but not suited to the task. Reverend-Mother Mohiam, the Imperial truth-sayer, has entrusted her safety to me.” She kept her hands out of Leto’s line of sight so he couldn’t see the tension in her white knuckles. Ever so slowly, the lady exhaled. Again, guilt. The guilt threatened to consume her whole.

Her husband had always been far too intuitive for his own good. “She is young.” Sometimes a conversation with him was like playing chess. Every word, every tone, every movement playing off those of the other. Jessica enjoyed such a conversation far more when the stakes were not nearly as high. Perhaps he knew even subconsciously what she felt, what she had done.

Jessica let the silence in the air hang.

Leto sat at his desk, his brown eyes never leaving her smooth face.

She conceded first. “It will be some time before the girl will serve as my handmaiden in truth, but is she not of an age with Paul?” Not quite a lie, not quite a truth. A certainty presented as a question even though she had already decided the answer.

With no other child from her in sight and no political marriage alliance contracted to provide others, her son remained at the forefront of his father’s concerns. “Paul must keep his attention turned towards his lessons. I trust you, Jessica. He cannot be distracted.” Leto was known to others as inscrutable and honorable. She could read every emotion that flickered across his handsome face. He was worried; that much was plain. He was worried about what the legacy he’d built and the enemies he made might do to his kind son. His only son.

Even though he would never know it, the solution to his worries was close at hand. “My love, every child needs a companion. There are no children of an age with Paul on Caladan and certainly none suitable for his station. I’ve seen his loneliness. I know you have too.” The truth in her words was undeniable. Only eleven years old, and Paul had never known a friend his age on Caladan. He glued himself to his filmbooks and the stories of Duncan Idaho and Gurney Halleck. Leto cared for more than just raising an heir. Jessica knew he loved Paul. He worried about his well-being. Her husband would grant her this wish. Check.

“What better place for a friend than a girl in his mother’s service? They won’t have to be parted for quite some time. And there is no better judge of caliber than the Bene Gesserit.”

His resigned sigh echoed in the quiet of his study. Checkmate. “You’re right.” Leto’s footsteps as he got up and drew closer to her were a comforting rhythm. She knew that rhythm by heart.

“I do tend to be.” The impulse to feel the rhythm of his pulse beneath her hands overtook her, and she let it. Jessica reached out to press herself to him. Her Duke responded in kind as he gently drew her arms around his neck and brushed his forehead against hers.

It was more than enough sometimes to breathe in the same air as her beloved. To know that she shared space, time, and life with him.

Leto pressed a kiss to her mouth. Without any further words, he left the room.

Her fingers pressed against her closed eyes as if to alleviate the burden she’d taken upon herself. All of this would be justified in the end. Jessica had to keep faith in that.

Reposting this unfinished dune fic i started during the 1st movie and orphaned on ao3! Seems as if there's interest. LMK if you want on the tag list.

#dune #the dune books #dune books #dune movie #dune 1 #dune part 1 #dune part 2 #paul atreides #chani #paul atreides x you #paul atreides x reader #timothee chalamet #lady jessica #paul x chani #paul atreides x chani #paul atreides x you x chani #dune fanfiction

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moongreenlight · 6 months

Text

Greek mythology/the Olympians has been my hyperfixation for going on two decades now and I just… Soap as Dionysus.

Always brings a good bottle of wine and a few rooted cuttings of ivy as a housewarming gift. If he’s fixed his attention on you, he’ll also put a few sex toys in the little bag he brings. Puts them right on top for the pleasure of seeing your scramble to try to shove them in a drawer or tuck the whole gift in the closet.

He’s a great time. Has this intoxicating way about him. Like life is a stage and he’s the director. Playful and fun, though a little too enthusiastic at times. Handsy when the two of you hang out. You assume that’s just his nature and excuse it accordingly. Hard not to, gorgeous man that he is. A divine kind of handsome. Like his features are an eons-old amalgamation of all the most beautiful features humans have ever had.

And he gets strangely possessive, even after you’ve been nudging back his wandering hands or putting your hand between his mouth and your neck all night. Borders on vindictive and aggressive if he’s not in the right headspace.

It’s a bit terrifying to see him snapping his teeth in the face of some man at the bar who had only just asked you if you’d wanted a drink. You swear later in the night you see him babbling feverishly to a group of his friends. It sounds like total gibberish, and his friends look even more confused than you feel, but his eyes are wide as saucers and his hands are flying about hazardously. You don’t think much of it after Soap pulls you by the waist to the corner booth and tips a cocktail up to your mouth.

He keeps you out until all hours of the night. Insists on staying jovial. Club-hopping to find the best crowd, best music, best conversation. Keeps you up and active for so long that the confines of reality start to become fuzzy at the edges.

Sexuality expressed through bodies writing and twisting in drunken dance. Bumping up against one another. Collecting strangers and your own sweat in fat beads on your skin that make you shiver when they get heavy enough to trail down the small of your back.

When the room is spinning enough to make you stumble just a bit and you’re unable to do anything but giggle about it, he’s somehow able to make sneaking off into the family bathroom together seem like a good idea. He seems just as drunk as you are, slinging an arm around your shoulders when you walk. Bellowing a laugh when his hand grazes your tit but making no attempt to pull it away.

It’s less easy to be oblivious when you’re in the bathroom together. The muffled music filtering through the bottom of the door. He’s pressing up against you even though now there’s no crowd to excuse his practically grinding his groin on your hip.

It smells like sweat and generic brand bathroom cleaner. You hum when he staggers to the urinal instead of griping at him about how crass it is to take a piss right in front of you. He props himself up on the wall with one hand and a moment after you hear the teeth of his zipper come undone, he lets out a throaty, satisfied groan.

You busy yourself looking in the mirror. Checking your makeup. Seeing if you look as drunk as you feel. It’s filthy. There’s a web of cracks coming from the bottom left where it looks like someone tried to send their fist through to the wall behind it. It makes you a bit dizzy to look at and you have to bend at the waist to get close enough to see the way your mascara has smudged all around your eyes.

And all of a sudden there’s a burning heat behind you. Sickly, feverish heat pressing straight into the pillows of your ass. Soap’s spidery reflection shows up just over your smile sporting a wicked grin. Teeth and eyes flashing.

You try and swat him away, all too used to his comings-on, but he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips bruisingly hard.

“C’mon, hen. Been driving me mad all night. Relax a bit. Jus’ need this. Need you. Please.”

He has to lay flat over your back to hiss in your ear. Teeth clenched like he really needs to put some effort behind his words to sound polite. Like a petulant child who’d just been reminded by their mother to practice manners.

You were practiced in batting back his advances, but for some reason his grit made you falter. His gaze seemed to be burning a hole through you in the mirror. The idea that something inside him was hitting a roaring boil that he couldn’t stop from flowing over made your brain go foggy. The opposite of sobering. His aberrant need was contagious and catching quick.

He smelled like sweat and cheap cologne and dry, sweet wine and woods. Flirty and masculine and overwhelming. And he’s warm and strong behind you, even if he’s pushing his hard cock into you.

Who were you to deny him the pleasure of snapping his hips into your backside a few times? Letting his fingers impatiently tug at the button of your jeans and hastily tug them down with your underwear until they pooled around your ankles?

It didn’t help that the sound of him sending a glob of spit into his hand made you clench around nothing. A familiar warmth gathering between your thighs that made you shift a bit to chase the momentary relief even a touch of friction could provide.

He couldn’t even afford you the decency of pretending not to see. No. Instead he points a spotlight on you and insists you perform for him again. Nudging your legs apart and pressing his thigh flush against your core while purring the filthiest things in your ear.

“Ken I jus’ needed to wear you down, mm? Thought ‘bout this before we went out. Always did get sloppy when you drink. Jus’ needed a little push. That’s it -Jesus- cunt’s so wet. Gonna take good care of her.”

And the club is so packed full of drunken, dancing bodies that hardly anyone notices the way you two stumble out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. Even though you’re still fumbling with the button of your jeans with shaking hands.

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medium-rare-bimbo · 11 months

Text

Through though Thoughts

♡masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

Warnings: dark characters, noncon/dubcon,

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

♡ Scummy manager eddie !!! Who fucks you in the supply closet letting everyone hear you!! He bends you over the grill/fryer not caring about the danger he'll give you a pay rise if you let him cum inside

♡ Vampire eddie tricks you into becoming a vampire by letting you fred from him "c'mon I feed from you all the time it's only right for you to do it from me, maybe I'll understand why you complain so much be as rough as you want" he doesnt understand why you complain because his pants are now ruined

♡Eddie fucking the angel of heavens gates to get a free pass in

♡ Demon eddie fucking angel reader

♡ Did someone say heather au?? JD!eddie x veronica! Reader 👁👁 kurt + ram! Billy and steve 👁👁

♡ priest! hopper fucking his favourite nun after she was almost seduced by eddie/steve/billy

♡ barista! Reader asking what milk theyd like in their coffee only to get the response of "yours"

♡ line cook! Eddie who has a favourite server (you<3) he always makes you food when you're hungry and isnt scared to go out and insult customers who make you cry

♡ hopper + dmitri/enzo fucking guard! Reader to escape ???!?!?!?!!

♡ porn director! Murray pairing his favourite actress (you<3) with the fan favourite hopper, hopper always messes up on purpose just so he can get round after round out of you

♡ Robin is horrible at sexting she can only Express her desires speaking whether that be on the phone or to your face she tries her best but jesus christ "humps humps humps dirty talk hump hump inserts strap thrust thrust spank spank thrust thrust degradation dirty talk thrust cums cuddles"

♡ nancy finds the cutest lingerie for you both to wear she makes you so flustered when she complements you, your legs spread infront of a mirror with your back against her chest. Pretty girls doing pretty things

♡ I know I did a cryptid girlfriend for eddie but I feel like everyone deserves a creepy girlfriend!!

♡ cryptid! Girlfriend who finds steve in the woods looking for dustin as hes supposedly ran off again (he didnt he was in his room the entire time) only to stumble across the creepy little weirdo whose bathing in the river water. He ushers you out and wraps is jacket around you (you have no Idea why) and is panicking into the black square thing that makes noise. Obviously none of the kids can take you in so he has no other choice but to take you back to his. Hes desperately asking you questions trying to find someone to call and hoping it's not an upside down situation however you seem to care more about his fluffy hair than anything else

♡ crytpid! Girlfriend who shows up in Nancy's room, who scares the life out of her, who refuses to leave her alone despite the items she throws at her (she pockets it them and keeps them)!! You're so creepy and nancy hates it!! You also dont understand boundaries as your practically under her skin 24/7 if you could fit in her pocket you would

♡ cryptid! Girlfriend who Robin finds you on night shift at the video store wandering in the back alleyway of the store doing god knows what. At first robin thinks you're lost and tries to ask you questions only to get completely ignored and naturally follows you around to try and figure out where you came from. You run off at some point but come back the next night bringing gifts, and the next night, and the next until you've successfully courted your human wife

♡ argyle who finds you after almsot running you over, he was trying to deliver pizza until you ran into the road he immediately gets out and tries to talk to you but once again you ignore him. He feels bad about almost killing you so gives you a pizza completely forgetting about the customer. He somehow befriends you and often dees you hanging out by the side of the road and his window

♡ johnathan captures you on camera and thinks you're a ghost, he goes back to where the photo was taken to try and replicate it to see if it was true only for you to sneak up behind him because you like the flash from the weird thing in his hands. You follow him home despite his protests and now he keeps you in his room because how in the world would he begin to explain why a girl with weird pupils is in the house???

♡ cryptid! Girlfriend who breaks into hoppers cabin and refuses to leave. He kicks you out even threatening to shoot you but you always come back, sometimes baring gifts and pretty little rocks. He feeds you from his porch sometimes watching you eat whatever he gifts you. He dozes off one afternoon and wakes up to you huddled up next to him, he feels bad and now let's you stay with him but hes not happy about it (that's a lie)

♡ cryptid! Reader who befriended the kids long before billy was around whenever hes mean to them she scares him straight. It's the same routine and last for only about a week until billy is conditioned to not bully children, he thinks hes going insane until he goes to pick up max only to find the girl that's been harassing him for months playing their dumb game. They just stare at eachother until billy ushers max to the car and quizzes her on who the hell you are. Hes creeped out by you but would 100% hit that

♡ I love my dentist so heres some self indulges on my part, dentist! Hopper who makes you suck on his fingers which then evolves into you sucking his cock!!!!

♡ teasing eddie with a fleshlight and cockring, you've been going at it for hours and hes whispering and begging for relief but you're having so much fun

♡ karen wheeler and joyce byers having a night together with pregnant! Reader they say it's to congratulate you and give you one last night of "freedom" before you give birth but they're playing such mean games!! They're practicing toys on you, making you cum so many times

♡ chrissy practices kissing with you but you get such a kick out of it, you hate jason wholeheartedly and love the fact that you get to kiss his girlfriend

♡ speaking of jason 👁👁 imagine being the only thing jason and eddie can be civil over, they just put all the hate towards eachother into fucking you

♡ party girl! Reader getting punished by hopper after she tells him "I fuck harder than I party" she was trying to seduce him into letting her go but hopper doesnt like brats

♡ vecna using his freaky tentacles on you!! Its absolute torture and he mocks you through it all

♡ you, eden, nancy, robin and chrissy having a sleepover together where you all discuss how much guys suck and how they're all the same!!! Idk gangbang me

♡ feel like eddie would look like pete Davidson with a buzz cut

♡ Eddie, steve and billy sorting out their differences by fucking me dumb <3

♡ I dont care what anyone says I could treat mrs wheeler better, I'll be her good baby. Make her cum in my mouth

♡ feral and primal 001 breeding me <3

♡ getting arrested and fucking jim hopper to be let go

♡ personally I think argyle would have a thick juicy cock

♡ if I had the opportunity I would carry Steve's children, all 6 of them. Firm believer of breeding-balls-Steve

♡hopper dressing you up in bunny ears and making you bounce on his cock for easter, he making you collect those vibrating eggs and seeing how many you can fit inside you

♡ tattoo artist/piercer! Eddie x tattoo/piercing-virgin reader

-your friends always come in bringing you as a plus one, always dressing up in nice clothes to hopefully get his attention

-none of it works as he always flirts with you no matter how done up your friends are

- eddie teases you about never having a tattoo or piercing before and says he'll pop your cherry

- after he secretly adds his number to your phone and starts suggesting piercings, you finally walk in for an appointment without your friend hes so surprised when you choose the nipple piercing

- you're shaking like a leaf when he does it and he asks if you have anything to calm you down with, you say you have a stress ball in your bag when eddie finds something better hidden in a small pocket.

- a bullet vibtator, you're so embarrassed but when he slides it inside you quickly find pleasure in the needle sliding through your flesh

-here he has you laying down on the table, nipples puffy and sore from the piercing, pounding into you cunny as if his life depended on it

♡ sex pollen all the time every time I love it so much, horny fuzzy brain yummy yummy yummy

♡ being fucked in the locker room before cheer practice I dont care by who I just want cock

♡ steve, eddie, billy, Nancy, Robin gangbang me pls

♡ 001 getting getting turned on by blood <3<3<3<3<3 any blood? Paper cut? In his mouth, nose bleed? Wiping it with his finger then boom in his mouth, period sex? Absolutely!!! Blood and cock perfect combination for him

♡ eddie x succubus reader !!!!!!!!! Soulmates <3<3

♡ eddie getting dressed up for DnD only to cancel in favour of fucking eachother dumb

#stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #billy hargrove x reader #Steve harrington x reader #Robin Buckley x reader #Nancy wheeler x reader #chrissy Cunningham x reader #murray bauman x reader #enzo x reader #jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #joyce byers x reader #jonathan byers x reader #argyle x reader #001 x reader #henry creel x reader

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yandere-wishes · 11 months

Text

The Spider’s Web

Summary: You are a hero, you feel it within your bones. Calamity may strike and villains may rise. But you are still a hero, it's time to start acting like one.

Continuations of Imposter Syndrome and Perfect Girl. But can be read as a stand-alone

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence, angst, just the worst Spanish you've ever heard. SFW but Miles and the reader are 18+

Author's note: Last part of the Prowler Miles x Hero reader trilogy. Reblogs and comments are appreciated.

There's a weight in your hand, familiar and awkward, worn yellow plastic stuck to rusted metal. You count the rotations it takes for one bolt to tighten, twist, twist, and repeat. You cradle the metallic gadget with such fragile care, lips tracing silent prayers across the cold alloy. This shall be your salvation once it's complete. Another key to unbinding these appalling shackles.

It's been months since the Prowler took you away. Locked you within his new hideout and threw away the key. He claims he loves you as he leaves sugar-tainted kisses upon your neck. Whispers that he's the only one who can keep you safe as he nibbles the shell of your ear. His claws have become a constant force upon your hips, his presence a burden, invariant and throttling. He's stripped you of your mantle as a hero, reduced you to a limbless, formless creature that merely exists within the dark of his room. Una muñeca, he calls you as he extinguishes the air from your lungs with a life-sucking kiss.

But you're not a doll, nor a puppet, nor a toy. You're supposed to be a paladin, a saviour, the one who was going to alleviate this city of evil once and for all. But you're not a superhero, not now, not anymore. The thought is enough to make you sick.

Your own reflection causes you the most pain. The glass paints a stranger with hollow eyes and a decaying soul. Defeated and broken. You've taken to smashing mirrors as a way to exercise your demons. Miles has stated his vexation over this and warned you not to invoke his anger again. It's hard to explain that his anger makes you feel human. The way his eyes narrow and his lips merge into displeasure is the only thing keeping you alive right now. You hate him, but he's practically forgotten that.

Your ears perk up as footsteps tread outside the room. You quickly rush to hide your new gauntlet under the bed, rolling to the deepest corners where the dust bunnies and boogeyman roam. You perch yourself on the bed, stretch to grab a framed family photo from one of the shelves, and focus your eyes. Keep busy, it's the best way to avert his suspicions.

There's a light creek before Miles steps in. Footsteps heavy as if the ground's going to give way under him. He looks exhausted, practically dead. You wonder what he's been up to all day. You turn your head to face your nemesis, your jailer, your lover.

"Mi Vida" he mutters as he falls back on the bed, he turns wrapping his arms around your waist. "That slimy alien insisted I do some physical training today. It's exhausting. Says I need to be in shape for the big operation". You stiffen, ever since the sinister six had you out of their way, they'd been content with ruling the city with an iron fist. Nothing major, nothing extreme. But something is going down, something bad. Desperation throbs within your heart, you need to escape.

Miles pulls you down until you're lying next to him. Gently prys the photo from your hands and looks it over. There's an endless moment that reverberates between you two. "I miss him sometimes'' he confesses, his eyes locked on his father's face. He looks like a child hopeless and lost. Desperate in all the ways you've never been. He pulls you closer and buries his head in the crock of your neck. It almost feels like love. If love was a thousand leeches that stick to every crevice of your body. Slowly infiltrating the heart. Slowly sucking away your life.

Miles is a storm, a typhoon, a calamity. All hurling winds and bellowing thunder. A hurricane that shakes the world to its core. You've gotten so used to thinking of him as anything but human that you forgot he's just a boy. A boy with a heartbeat and a thousand painful memories all locked behind golden eyes.

You remember when he used to tell you stories. Back when the safest place for a hero and a villain was the midnight sanctuary of a rooftop.

Stories of his childhood back when his father was still alive. Back when he was seven or maybe eight naive enough to believe his father's empty preaches about justice and righteousness. Mind too preoccupied with the new Rover red hot wheel his father had brought home after his shift. He'd been happy once, a long, long time ago.

Back then you used to think about him, in the spare moments between explosions and your blood pounding through your ears. You used to think about what kind of boy Miles would have been if his father had still been around. How sweet his smile could have been, how precious his soul would have been. Even after he kidnapped you and put you through horrors untold, you still think about the boy he could have been. Dare to imagine who he could have been. You wonder if his touch could have been endearing, could have made you feel safe. Half addicting and half comforting. It's laughable really, you never thought it possible to miss someone you've never met. Yet it unlocks a special kind of sadness within your heart. Maybe in some other lifetime, the two of you could have been real lovers.

"We're planning to expand outside of New York, take over everything else," Miles says as his eyes grow heavier. He's tired, you think, that's good, that very very good. "There's no one left to get in our way." There's a dreadful banging in the back of your head. A screaming voice begging you to escape, to run away, to do SOMETHING, anything. There's a fatigue that has encompassed Miles, engulfed him whole. He's dead to the world in minutes. Whilst you are tortured by your consciousness. Your gadgets aren't ready. They're made from scrap bits you found around the hideout. Half assembled and never tested. Yet Miles is asleep, exhausted and unconscious. It's the perfect chance to run to return to your old life.

Take a leap of faith, what's the worst that can happen...

You spare one last glance at Miles. Close your eyes and take in a shaky breath. A leap of faith you repeat within your head. You roll out of the bed and rummage under it to find your hidden gems. They're not perfect, not finished, but hopefully, they'll work. Your gauntlets are the most important part, they should theoretically be strong enough to break the seals on the window. From there you can use what little web filler alternative you were able to make to swing away from this dreadful place. Run and hide, New York is huge he shouldn't be able to find you.

You rush for the window, pry the bolts loose, pull and pull until your muscles begin to collapse. The window creaks open and it sounds like freedom and hope all entwined with a fleece of dread. You step out onto the ledge. A hunting summer breeze ghosts across your face, as sirens scream in the background. A million lights bathe the city in a welcoming glow. You take a breath, turn around and fall. Diving into a concrete ocean, a place where you can finally feel alive.

The rebirth of a hero has begun...

What is a hero in a land of villains? A shining star or a decaying light. To them, you are a monster, ripped from your mother's womb with a craving for blood and justice. To Miles, you used to be a beast, chained and tamed. He forgot that you were a numen. That you were something he had to fear.

There's a divinity hidden inside each hero. Bones made of golden marrow that births sacred cells. A hero's blood is holy Ichor running through their veins. Ripping them apart from the inside and reassembling them as modern martyrs who shall die amongst the neon lights.

How can you expect anything less from yourself? How can you be anything other than hallowed? You refuse to be anything other than sacred, trimmed in gold, and born of desert diamonds.

Your eyes are focused on the last warehouse, Vulture, and Dr.Octopus are overviewing the newest cargo shipment. They're the last of the sinister six to die. The final lines to add to your tally. Then you can focus on the prowler.

After you escaped it took many days to find a safe place to hideout. You spend every second rummaging through the streets in search of new parts to use. You need a functional suit, one that could at the very least get you in and out of the Sinister Six's stock houses without detection. Then you could focus on stealing upgrades. You needed the strength, the extra power. There's a festering hunger pounding in your cranium. Desperate to get out. It screams the ballads of a vengeful melody. The need for retribution has become a cruel addiction, one that has driven you further than you ever dreamed possible.

You stare out at the warehouse from your perch upon a skyscraper.

Count the seconds before the bomb detonates. On the count of three, a shiver goes up your spine. An acquainted terror, he's found, you feel his digital case price you from inside the shadows. Phantom pains resurface as old bruises begin to bloom. You earned your freedom to the symphony of breaking bones and tearing flesh. To the desperate tugs of your heartstrings as if it were a harp. There is no way you'll permit him to take it from you again.

"Long time no see mami" His voice is gruff, hidden behind the layers of his mask. A small part of you used to miss this. Missed the Prowler you had fought almost daily. Missed the punching and kicking and the desperate need to kill or kiss one another. "Hello Miles" you spit his name like poison behind your teeth. Somewhere in the distance the bomb detonates, vermillion and smoke fill the air and you feel your heart skip in jovial delight.

You twirl across the edge of the building, hands stuck out on either side. You look like a bird, like a ballerina. Like a friendly neighborhood Spidergirl. "What, you want us to beat each other up? For old time's sake."

Mile's mask slips away and he looks at you with eyes too dead for his young age. "You left me!" he screams, with a voice sheathed in pain, in anger, in broken dreams that had shattered far too quickly.

You wonder if the mask has cut off the oxygen going into his brain. "Of course, I left you!" You scream, "You turned me into a metaphysical, gutless monster, you stripped me of every heroic deed I had embedded into your heart. You robbed me of my faith, my morals, my soul. Did you ever think I could love you after all that..."

"You're talking crazy little bug, I was protecting you"

"From what! From the villains, I could have destroyed!"

There's rage leaking out of every aperture of his body. Anger within his lungs, pounding and prudent destructive at best. He rushes towards you, with every intent to kill to maim. He tackles you over the edge. You wonder if he has a death wish. You wonder if he's in love.

You're falling into a sea of dying stars. Miles's arms wrap tightly against your waist. The ground seems infinitely far and yet ever so close.

You wonder if Miles fears death or if he welcomes it. It wouldn't matter either way. For the first time in longer than you care to remember you feel so alive, dead tissue gives way to the howling wind in your ears. There's no end in sight. If you die, at least you'll die in each other's arms. Raindrops race past you splattering across the pavement, in a final moment of yearning, you sling your web against a low rise hoping it'll soften the fall.

You wake up to the wet street. Miles's body sprawled out next to you. Inching closer you feel his pulse throb under your fingertips, a caged beast vying for its freedom. Desperate, desperate, desperate, exactly how he makes you feel. His eyes peel open, stardust and nectar falling from them. He's beautiful you think, he's deadly you recall. "and here I thought we had something special mami" he mumbles as his eyes begin to close. He'll live, you're sure of it. You just have to muster enough energy to drag him back to your lair. Tie him up for good measure, give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe now with the Sinister Six gone and the city finally at peace. Maybe now with every bad influence scrubbed clean from his life. Miles can finally become a real boy. Maybe you two can finally become real lovers.

There's a light that dances in front of your eyes. Rogue fire and magic all wrapped in one. A man steps out of it or maybe a seraphim. It's really hard to tell with the throbbing at the back of your head. He introduces himself. He looks just like you, spiders etched into his skin and pain pooling inside his eyes. You wonder if he's been through the same horrors as you.

But Miguel is older, a crooked thing. All fangs and blood and claws. You peel yourself from the ground and wobble over to him. Collapsing in his arms. Tears fall from your eyes matching the tears of the heavens.

"It's over little one, the pain is finally over" You know he's lying. Yet it soothes you. You know your new life as the protector of New York has just begun.

You are Spidergirl now and your life has just turned into a Sisyphean labor

Sorry it's not as good as the other two, I was having a hard week lol

taglist: @nkmblackhyuuga @itsnotino @huicitawrites @bennybenten @scarleste @the-rouge-robin @murderofravens

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writingstreetspirit · 1 year

Note

You're an awesome writer ♡ so I want to request a lil blurb for neteyam x human reader where he Learns more about human stuff maybe trying new snacks with the reader or maybe even watching the reader do their skin care routine , etc. If you like this idea and okay with writing it, I will be grateful thankk you In advance 🤗💗

It’s…A Human Thing?

Summary: Neteyam learns things about being human through skincare

Pairing: Neteyam x Human!Reader

Warnings: May contain spoilers from ATWOW, reader uses makeup and skincare products

Word count: 0.4k

A/N: Hi lovely, sorry for the looong wait. I lost motivation there for a little while, but I finally got the spark to write back! Thank you for this adorable request, I enjoy making this small piece :)

—

”It’s…a human thing?” Neteyam’s intrigued, watching closely every move you make. How you go through some form of learned routine of rubbing, washing and massaging your delicate skin that is for once not covered by the breathing mask.

”Well, yeah. On Earth it’s pretty common to use makeup to feel more confidant or to enhance ones looks. And the face wash is to get rid of all the leftover gunk from my face before I go to bed.” You explained while simultaneously tapping a dot of the moisturizer on your nose, a dot on your forehead, one for each cheek, and finally your chin. You rubbed the moisturizer into your skin, looking back at Neteyam in the mirror every few seconds.

”Do you use…makeup, for confidence or to feel pretty? Because yawne (beloved), you don’t need it to look pretty, you are the most beautiful being I have ever lain eyes upon!” Neteyam is quick to say, sounding almost offended by the very thought that you doubted your own beauty. It made you smile at the Na’vi that would one day become your mate for life. Oh, how he made you happy.

”Thank you Neteyam, I know I don’t need it. I just like to explore and discover new things.” You reassured, leaning back to give Neteyam a small comforting kiss on his lips before you continued on with your routine by applying soothing oil under your eyes and on your cheeks.

”Can I do it?” Neteyam asked, head tilted to the side as he observed your hands move over your face. You looked back at him with a small confused smile. ”What? Applying the oil?”

Neteyam nodded, his yellow eyes never leaving your hands. You smiled, turning around to face the much taller boy. ”Yeah, sure. Go at it.”

His much bigger hands dwarfed your face has his fingers slowly massaged the liquid with the gentlest touch, the way he always touch you. As if you were his greatest treasure, which you very much are. Once Neteyam felt finished after what must have been minutes, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips lovingly against yours before departing to press one on your forehead, one on each cheek and finally your nose.

”Thank you for the helping hand.” You laughed a little, cheeks slightly flushed from the affection. Neteyam laughed with you, arms creeping around your waist to playfully tug you closer. ”You’re welcome!”

Your mouth stretched into a yawn as your body sagged against Neteyam’s strong torso. ”I think it’s time for bed soon. Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

Neteyam guided you toward your bed in the corner of the room, practically lifting you off the floor. He nuzzled his face into the crock of your neck. ”I’ll stay as long as you want, yawne (beloved).”

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar neteyam #avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar x y/n #avatar x you #avatar x human reader #atwow fanfiction #atwow x reader #atwow imagines #writingstreetspirit

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adventuringblind · 1 year

Text

Catch me because I'd hate to fall

Charles Leclerc x reader

Synopsis: Reader is afraid of heights and a game of truth or dare puts them in the last place they want to be.

Warnings: panic attack, flashback, not proofread (We die like the Ferrari strategists)

Notes: Google translated French, no use of Y/N, Charles is a simp

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Truth or dare is a game for teenagers who are determined to learn eachothers secrets. Or that's what you originally thought.

Racing drivers are not normally the type to sit around on the floor playing games that are used for diabolical purposes. Or that's what you had assumed.

You had been wrong on both.

It's a calm weekend, no races or PR obligations. Max thought it would be nice to have a small get-together with some of the drivers who are currently in Monaco.

Charles thought it sounded like a wonderful idea and convinced you to join him at Max and Kelly's apartment for dinner.

"It this a casual thing? Or do I need to dress up?" You rummaged through drawers looking for something that felt right.

"I think it's casual, but if wanted to wear a ballgown I wouldn't stop you because I'm happy when you're comfortable." Charles days from across the room where he is currently getting dressed.

"What if I wore pajamas?"

"My prior statement still holds true. You are the most beautiful human regardless of what you're wearing." His smile makes a hint of red creep into your cheeks. You've been dating for two years, and he still manages to make you get flustered.

You ended up settling on a pair of jeans and one of your charles' t-shirts. A small dinner with friends didn't call for anything much.

You examine yourself in the mirror, making sure everything looks correct before charles appears behind you. An exaggerated look of amazement crosses his face.

"See! Gorgeous! Beautiful! Completely stole my breath away!"

You spin around and place a quick kiss on his cheek.

When you arrived there were already people there. Lando, Daniel, Pierre, Carlos, zand George (most with their respective significant other).

After a pleasant dinner and a few drinks, everyone found themselves laughing at the dumbest thing while sitting in a circle around the living room.

"I have the most amazing idea!" Daniel practically screamed at everyone. Everyone eyed him nervously as his idea's somtimes were not the most wise. Lando Max makes a gesture for him to continue since his outburst got everyone's attention.

"We should play truth or dare."

You looked at Charles nervously. This game never led to anything good back in your high-school years. But the air of the room made you relax and agree to it.

Before anything could start, shrles leaned into you and whispered "You don't have to play mon amour if you don't want to." His words only reassured you that you would be okay playing.

"You suggested the game you go first," Max pointed at Daniel. "Truth or dare, mate?"

"Dare obviously"

The game went perfectly. Everyone is laughing, doing weird and embarrassing things, and sharing stories.

Until it came back to you.

Lando, who had just finished attempting the alphabet backwards, made eye contact with you.

"Truth or dare?"

You feeling a bit risky decided on "dare."

Lando rubs his chin for a moment. "Okay, I dare you to go up to the roof and recreate that one scene from the titanic with charles."

"You mean the one where they are dangling over the edge of the boat?" Pierre asked.

"Yup! Exactly! All happy and lovey dovey, it'll be so cute!"

It seemed harmless. But the mete mention of the top of the building had your breath caught in your throat.

Charles having noticed this leaned in discreetly once again and whispered "don't feel pressured to do anything you don't want to."

You, however, were terrified of everyone discovering your deathly fear of heights. Charles knew because anytime you got on a plane, it was rough. You used to not be afraid, but after having to jump into the safety of firefighters from twenty stories up in a burning building, things hadn't been the same. Falling had become something that haunted your nightmares.

Regardless, you shook your head and went to get your shoes. Since Max lives close to the top anyways, you decided on the stairs. Only hoping to delay the inevitable for a while.

The top of the stairs came too fast. Having opened the door to soon.

The night air brings you back to the present and reminds you why you were here. You could blame the shaking on the crisp Monaco air, but that would be a lie.

You step onto the roof, everyone shuffling out behind you.

One foot in front of the other, closer to the ledge.

Charles never lets your hand go. "I promise that if you back out I will not laugh and I will not let them say a single thing about." He pauses and turns you to face him. "But if you get on the ledge, then I promise I will not let you fall." His eyes and voice are determined and concentrated. Every ounce of you wanted to just leap into his arms and run away. Yet the other emotion, the pride he has for you for making it this far, makes you push just a little more.

Soon your toes are one step up from the edge. An inch of cement guarding you from what could be a disaster.

Your body shakes, your mind going white at the thought of falling. The feeling of your stomach flipping as you fall to your demise.

Inhale. One foot up. Exhale. The other meets it.

Your eyes screw shut. Your body is practically giving out on you.

Charles stands behind you now. His arms encircle your torso and waist. Tying you down to reality as everything else slips away.

Your eyes open. Then they fall.

It's the same thing. The heat makes you want to take the leap. Into to safe embrace of first responders. When did it get so hot? Why are you sweating so much?

There was no time. The building was about to collapse. They are shouting. Comforting words of encouragement. Maybe you can jump.

Your arms go out to help you balance. Then you lean into the pull of gravity. But you don't budge.

"Amour!"

Charles, why was he in the building with you?

Realization came flooding back through your senses. Charles' arms straining to hold you in place.

"Shift your weight towards me, you can do it." His voice gently coaxing you made you realize the building is safe. There is no fire.

You shift your weight backward and fall in charles. The both of you gracefully find the ground.

Warm tears roll down your cheek as Charles refuses to let you go from his embrace.

"I'm so sorry," you sob.

"I'm so proud of you," he whispers.

The night ended quickly after that. Lando apologized for giving you such a dare, and you countered that he didn't know.

Later that night, fast asleep in Charles' arms, your dreams were not haunted by the smell of smoke and your body flipping through the air. Instead, you were meant with Charles holding you upwards to touch the clouds.

#x reader #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 #f1 fic #formula one #ferrari #charles lechair #charles leclerc fic #max verstappen #pierre gasly #lando norris #carlos sainz #charles leclerc is a simp and you can't change my mind #charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader #hurt/comfort #fear of heights #im not actually afraid of heights im afraid of clowns byt that seemed harder to write about

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dairyminki · 10 months

Note

this heavily reminds me of my san series ngl

✨️ part of my 300 milestone event 🪄

title: make it up to you

pairing: choi san x gn!reader

genre: established relationship, fluff to suggestive real quick

warning/s: use of pet names (baby, babe, kitten)

wc: 879

a/n: hello hello to one of my fave persons here! this is just one of the many pics u sent me sooo sit back and enjoy ig?? helpsksks i'm really thankful for that san series of urs btw cos it was the reason we both started talking hehet,,,anyway! i hope u like this one luvv <333 and yes the pic do be rlly reminding me of ur san im screaming this was not so nice of u

*reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated!

—

San chuckles, hearing the frustrated huffs that manage to escape your mouth every now and then. He could practically see from the vanity mirror, currently in front of him, the little pout on your lips as well as your arms that are crossed against your chest.

You were already in bed, dressed in your bluish sanrio themed pajamas and—he bets—you're absolutely warm and comfortable under the comforter right now. Although, your furrowed brows say otherwise.

"What's my kitten pouting for, hmm?" San coos, a hint of teasing present in his tone. He has his head slightly angled to the right as he eyes his newly moisturized face in the mirror, two fingers pressing on his lips.

The thing is, he's currently intently admiring his no makeup face and he's not trying to deny that because—damn, he does look great.

You always tell him this, and there are still times that he can't quite put himself to believe it—not tonight though, obviously.

"If there's someone who resembles a cat more, between the two of us, it's gotta be you, Choi San."

San stills in his seat and his self-admiration comes to a halt.

You…

You just called him, San. Not sweetie, not darling, not bubba, and most of all, you didn't call him, Sannie.

Rather, you referred to him with his government name, and this was enough to relay to him just how deep your growing annoyance with him is now.

"Baby…" San softly says, he briefly lifts his butt off the stool as he turns to fully face you.

But when you make no effort to reply and simply cover your face with the comforter instead, he stands up and makes his way over to the bed.

San keeps sweetly uttering the endearment until the mattress dips due to his added weight and until the very moment that he's already laying beside you.

A whine comes out of San's mouth when he sees that you've managed to steer clear of his not so subtle attempt of caging you in his arms. You avoided him by rolling towards your left and viola!—you're now a human sized burrito.

"Baby!"

"Don't baby me!"

"But you're my baby!" San whines even louder.

"Yeah? And you kept this baby waiting for an hour when you promised you'd be done for only a few minutes," You argue, prying off the comforter from your face—San takes note of your slightly red face with a smile—your movements, sharp.

"Babe, I had to make sure that I've wiped every ounce of makeup from my face. Plus, I wanted to be presentable enough for you since we haven't seen each other for like a week," San squeaks, and he sees that you're trying your very best not to roll your eyes at him.

Instead, you scoff.

"You're pretty handsome already, Sannie. I always tell you that."

Ah, now there's that nickname he loves hearing.

Now lying on his side, San musters all the strength needed to pull you towards him—though, he didn't really need that much to do so. This action causes your body to be unwrapped from the comforter and ends with your face flat against his rock hard chest. San laughs when he hears you mutter an 'oof,' and then wastes no time to wrap you in his arms and entangle his legs with yours.

You were now his prey, trapped, and if he's merciful enough, he might just be contented in giving you a few kisses to make it up to you—despite your cute whines—for just a few seconds and then release you from his cage-like embrace, and call it a night, afterwards.

"Ou shmell good." San hears your muffled voice, and he giggles because of the light vibration your voice just made against his chest. And then you're pushing yourself away from him at arm's length, staring up at him.

"Have you been working out more, by the way? Your chest is…" You pause to clear your throat. "...rock solid." You continue, blushing.

San does his absolute best to stay calm despite your comment and your now flustered face. Instead, he makes it a mission to tuck every stray hair that fell and covered your face, behind your ear, and not meeting your eyes while he does so. And he was doing great, very great.

Well, that was until one of your hands gripped his muscly arm, and the other started playing at the neckline of his black tank top.

It's safe to say that the tables have turned and San was now the flustered one.

He is now the prey as he finally locks his eyes with yours. The dark gaze you were wearing was a clear indication that it won't just be cute kisses tonight—but rather, a hot long night filled with further lingering touches and kisses trailing down—

"Make it up to me?"

But, oh—San is very willing to make it up to you, alright. In fact, he might just not show mercy after all.

San hears you murmur, which enticingly pulls him out of his reverie. And then it happens so quickly, with San barely having any time to blink, that now you're already straddling his hips. San's chest heaves at the sight of you on top of him.

#san x reader #cromernet #pirateeznet #k-labels #Hiraya-M #ateez x gender neutral reader #ateez x reader #san fluff #ateez fluff #ateez suggestive #ateez scenarios #dairyminkiwrites #dairyminki_atzsan #dairyminki's 300 milestone event #m: chokchokk #💌—dream.with.elle

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archoniluthradanar · 1 year

Text

It's all in the Costume

It's all in the Costume : a poly!Volturi kings one-shot

Response to a request from @iloveslasher

Warning for four-way smut, 18 yo+ please.

You are the mate of a trio of very powerful vampire kings who co-rule the vampire world with an iron fist. To them though, you are their beloved human mate, the one who joined with them a year ago, willing and unafraid. Why would you fear them, when you love all three with all your heart.

They allowed you to remain human, but will soon discuss the need for you to accept the change. They love and care about you, and know your vulnerability as a mortal. They never wish to see you harmed in any way.

One day, you were in your room trying on your costume for an upcoming science fiction convention being held in Rome. You'd specially ordered the entire costume, your mates never denying you anything where money was concerned. You tried on the red satin dress with a full skirt that ended just below your butt. There was an overlay of black velvet that gave you small flairs hanging behind you, sure to draw attention to your backside when you walked. The finishing touch was a "Dracula" collar that wasn't attached to the dress, leaving your shoulders bare.

You pulled on a pair of black silk stockings that reached mid-thigh and tied to a garter belt with thin, nearly invisible garters. The length of the skirt and the height of the stockings left a few inches of bare skin showing. Lastly, you slipped into a pair of stiletto black heels. Your costume was complete. Only your hair and make up would need to be done on the day of the convention.

You twirled in front of the mirror, feeling very much like a gothic vampire. You needed to get into character though and had no one to play off. Maybe Felix would allow you to practice with him.

You were deep in thought while looking in your full length mirror, when you noticed the reflections of your mates standing behind you.

You turn to face them, then go to each to give them a welcoming kiss. "Good morning. Why are you here, Aro?"

"Do we need a reason to come visit our mate? We thought to see how you are, and find you dressed in..." He waves his hand up and down in front of you. "...this."

"I'm going to attend a science fiction convention in Rome Saturday with Felix as my guard." You smile at all three of your mates. "I'm a Gothic vampire," you explain cheerily.

"Who said you could attend this...convention, and in Rome?" Caius demanded. "We should be accompanying you."

You walk over to the blonde vampire and play with his shirt collar., kissing his cheek "Love, you would not enjoy yourself. In fact, I'm sure you would all hate it. Please, my darlings, Felix will be going with me, and he will protect me. He won't even need a costume. Anyone looking at him will think he's something...alien. He won't even have to wear contacts."

Noticing the sudden silence, you see all three of your mates looking over your costume, with the satin and lace dress barely holding in your breasts, and with the very, very short skirt and the thigh-high stockings that leave a few inches of bare thigh showing.

Aro tsks as he examines your outfit. "This is unsuitable clothing for the mate of the Volturi masters." His words don't match his reactions. You see him clenching and unclenching one hand. His eyes are dark crimson, telling you he does not disapprove of your appearance at all.

Marcus moves around you as if inspecting a prize horse. You follow him, turning with him until he stops in front of you, his eyes looking at you appreciatively. "It is a charming costume, my dear, " he says, his eyes darkening. Marcus is feeling sexually needy, but he is less inclined to show his need as overtly than either Aro or Caius.

You notice Caius staring at you, unblinking, his eyes having darkened to a deeper red.

"Is something wrong, my love?" you ask him.

His eyes rake up and down your body. He's made no secret of his desire lately to bed with you, but Aro has kept you busy with administrative tasks he allows you to work on around the castle to keep you from getting bored. Caius reaches down while you're trying to sway him, his hand caressing the skin bared by the short dress.

"The dress suits you, amore mio." Caius' actual goal is to remove it from you, and take you with all the pent-up passion built up over the past week.

Their passionate need for you is not hidden. Aro comes over to slip his arm around your waist. He gives you an all too innocent kiss on your cheek. Caius, on the other hand, stands on your other side and places his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to kiss you with a desire that imparts his message. He wants you beneath him, his hard cock buried inside you while he teases your neck with his sharp teeth.

You look at all three of your mates. They have never taken you to bed as a group. Always, you spent time with each alone. The very idea of a foursome is already making you wet.

You need no words to tell your mates what you want.

You walk over to Aro and nuzzle his neck, the cold of his skin pleasant against your flushed skin. While you kiss him, your hands begin to unbutton his shirt, fingertips running down his chest, before you pull it off him and let it fall to the floor. When you pull back, you see his irises are black as night.

While Aro kicks off his shoes and socks, you move to Marcus, who has not budged at all. You offer him your lips which he takes with his in a passionate kiss. Your hands immediately divest him of his shirt as well. You feel his cool hands slide up and down your back. Turning away from him, you teasingly bend over to pick up both shirts and lay them on a chair. His eyes are now as black as Aro's.

Facing Caius, who has surprisingly proven to be more patient than usual, he pulls you to him with both arms, trapping you within his embrace. His mouth captures yours, sucking your breath inside his mouth. The soft noises you make spur him on, until he hears a protesting Aro.

"You may not keep our mate to yourself, brother, if she is willing to have us all." He holds out his hand to you and leads you to the massive bed the masters ordered for you on your arrival here a year ago. Up to now, you only ever shared it with one of your mates. Now it was going to be used for what it was built. You smile to think that it could be true.

"Caius, you prevented me from removing your shirt." You proceed to unbutton it, kissing his chest after each button is opened. "Kneel in front of me." Your eyes tell him its not a request. A smile slowly forms on his face as he complies with your command. Without warning, you place a shoe on his right shoulder and push backwards. He was unprepared for this and falls on his butt. He can see up the length of your legs and beneath the skirt, noticing the dampness on your red satin panties. The scent of your arousal wafts to him, causing his eyes to narrow in desire.

"Take them off," you tell him. You extend a leg whereupon Caius removes your heel and tosses it across the room. You repeat with your other leg, his hands removing that shoe and tossing it aside. This time he kisses the top of your foot before releasing it.

You turn to Aro, holding out your hands to him, your eyes demanding he come to you. When he does, you tell him to kneel and remove your left stocking. While he undoes the garter clip, you see Marcus standing to the side, jealousy written on his usually passive face. You wait until Aro has rolled your stocking down and off your leg.

Without a word, you step over to Marcus who knows what to do. He releases the garter clip and rolls the other stocking down while placing a kiss or two on your now bare leg, inhaling your sweet arousal. He takes the stocking and throws it over his shoulder. Placing his hands on your waist, he kisses your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth. You proceed to unbutton his shirt, and once it's open, you lick and suck on his nipples. Marcus throws his head back and groans, then tears his shirt off himself.

All your mates are nearly naked except for their black dress slacks. You have only the collar and short dress on. You reach up and remove the pointed collar. While all three men stare at you, you untie the bodice of the dress and let it all slide down your body to the floor. You're now clad only in your red satin panties with the garter belt.

Walking back to the bed, you crawl across the mattress, giving all your mates a tempting view of your rear. You lie back on a couple of stacked pillows to allow yourself to see everything. Caius is the first to approach the bed, with Aro and Marcus close behind. The three vampires join you, their hands caressing your bare legs, arms and torso.

Marcus lies on your left while Aro lies on your right. Caius is at your feet, his lips moving up your legs, kissing your warm flesh. When he reaches the center of your body, he takes off the garter belt and slips his fingers into your panties, pulling them off. You help by raising your hips off the bed briefly. You are fully exposed to your mate, who moves closer to your mound, inhaling deeply.

All you see now are three horny vampires with eyes black with desire and all hungry for you. When you feel a cold tongue slide between your lower lips, you arch your back and gasp. Aro leans over you and kisses you, his tongue between your lips since it is too dangerous for you to use your tongue in this manner. Marcus leans over your body, one hand caressing your far breast while his mouth carefully laps and suckles at the breast nearest him.

You twist your body in need, your senses beginning to become overwhelmed by what your mates are doing to you.

Caius has you so close to an orgasm, all you can do is breathe hard and whimper. "God, Caius, don't stop. I'm...so close." While he laps at both sides of your inner lips and sucks the hard bud of your clit, you feel him slide two fingers into your wet core, thrusting them in and out while his tongue continues its torture.

Finally, you cry out his name, your hips unable to stop moving while your inner muscles clamp on his invading fingers. You collapse back on the bed, your heart pounding in your chest. You reach up your hands to entangle themselves in Aro's and Marcus's hair.

Caius is about move to your side when you say, "Pants off!" Marcus moves the fastest and you grab his arm. In a low whisper, you order him to take you. "Fuck me, Marcus. Caius has prepared me for you. Now!" He needs no prodding, and positions himself over your body, then plunges into you, taking your breath away. He usually likes to get you used to his size, but not this time. He fills you completely, thrusting deeply.

You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him down whenever he starts to rise off you. Aro kisses you, knowing he will be next. You feel Caius' cold hands kneading your breasts and arch your back into them.

An orgasm slams through you just as Marcus fills you with his cold seed. He is careful not to let his full weight on you, then rolls off you, his hand on your stomach while he lies next to you.

With other ideas, Aro lies on your other side, and pulls you on top of him. He brings your legs on either side of his hips, poking at your core with his hard and eager cock.

"Brother!" Caius protests angrily at being usurped. You reach out to touch his thigh, then wrap your hand around his cock, and begin to stroke it with a steady rhythm, tightening your grasp. He thrusts his hips forward into your hand and hisses with every other stroke.

You rise and fall over Aro, taking him into you as deeply as possible. When you start to circle your hips around, Aro's hands grip them, guiding them, rolling them while he thrusts upward, closing his eyes.

Feeling left out, Marcus moves behind you and slipping his fingers into your wet cunt, uses it as lubricant to push a long slender finger into your back hole while Aro fucks your cunt. You gasp and move your hips forward, until Marcus' finger slips out of you. Feeling empty, you push back against him and let him excite you as he wishes.

You pant loudly when Aro's cock causes you to climax hard, his thrusts only stopping when he cums inside you. "Miei dei, amore!" he cries out, before smiling up at you, opening his eyes to enjoy your pleasure expression, as he calls it.

He has barely moved from under you when Caius takes his place, pulling you back atop him. He thrusts in hard, his hands caressing your breasts.

Marcus slides up the bed to your left while you ride Caius, rubbing your back until he can tell you're about to climax again. Your hands press on Caius' chest, your nails unable to dig into his hard marble-like flesh. You cry out once before collapsing on your blonde mate, feeling him cum, his cold emission filling you.

The four of you finally rest, although your mates are fine. They know they can tire you out when you enjoy sex with them. This was more intense for you, and they assume you need rest, then perhaps a hot shower later to relax you.

You ask each of your mates to kiss you, telling them how much you love them. Each in turn whispers in your ear that they will love and adore you forever. Caius dresses and runs to the kitchen to get you a pot of hot tea. Aro cleans you up with a wet towel, while Marcus collects your scattered clothing, knowing you will still want to go to Rome Saturday.

oooooooooo

Saturday arrives, and you're dressed in your sexy Gothic Vampire costume, surrounded by three handsome vampires attired in their battle dress. No one at the convention knows these are real vampires, but they make such a fascinating foursome, many con goers ask to have their pictures taken with the Volturi masters and their human mate.

You laugh happily when Aro agrees to the first request, enjoying the sudden fame. Caius scowls until a pair of pretty young girls stands on either side of him, asking for a picture to be taken by a friend. He smirks and agrees, his arms draping around their shoulders, ignoring the smell of their rich blood.

Even Marcus is finding he has his fair share of admirers. This is very unlike anything he has ever experienced, but when he looks to you and sees you smile and wink at him, he acquiesces and allows costumed fans to have pictures taken with him.

You turn to Aro at some point and warn him, "Do not tell Felix we had fun, or he will hate me forever." Then you grin at him, flashing your fangs, causing Aro to roll his eyes. "Really, my dear?"

The End

#the volturi #volturi fanfiction #aro volturi x reader #marcus volturi x reader #caius volturi x reader #vampire smut

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lina-lovebug · 1 year

Text

Bleeding Hearts

Part 8

Taglist: @silverhowe @happycupcakeenthusiast @vampire-hunter @simpforavillain @dumb-fawkin-bitch @mushroomlover13 @kimqueenofhell @vane28282 @namor-is-the-way @daaiissyyyyy @anyzandy @pturnersblog @cherrychupachup @confitxre

A groan left my lips as my eyes opened but closed quickly as a blinding light pierced me.

"She's waking up."

The small blobs soon turned into sky people, and I tried to get up. My wrists and ankles were yanked downwards, and my back fell against the table.

They think they can hold me.

“Mom!”

Before I could demand to be released or I would have their heads, Spider's voice rang out in the room as the humans began to back away.

“Son, are you okay? Have they harmed you?” I ignored the beginnings of the small pain in my shoulder, trying to move myself and looking for a way to cut myself free of these restraints.

“Yes, but they-”

“Speak English!” Another voice interrupted.

“Yes, I’m fine, but they need you to cooperate. They want you to say if you feel any pain in your shoulder,” He said, sounding concerned and I looked downwards. My shoulder was freshly wrapped in bandages, and it ached.

“It hurts but not as bad as when they shot me,” I made sure to add, glaring at this mirror, which only reflected myself. I knew these things and that they could see me, but I could not see them.

“Mom, you need to escape! They-” But his urgent voice was cut off, and I could hear a struggle. My tail began to flick around, and my eyes searched around. A vent, right above me. I heard no further noises, and the humans here previously had left.

I had no children of my own, so when Spider was born and I had heard his mother was sent back to Earth, I wanted to meet him. I had never seen a human baby, and he had fit so perfectly in the palm of my hand. Spider felt so close to me as he grew, and even now, he can only hold one finger of mine. When he was growing up, he had seen me one day and shouted for me. I did not understand whfat he was saying until Jake pointed out that he was calling me his mom. I had no mate, so thereor, I had no child of my own. I felt wrong being called a mother, but with his smile and brave heart, it was hard to correct him.

And they just took my son from me.

My gaze darkened as I calmly stopped my frantic movement, and rested my hands on the restraints on my wrists.

And ripped it.

“If there are any marks on my son, I will have to resort to skinning you alive and letting my Ikran feed on you while you still breathe,” I proclaimed, and it only took a few moments before the door clicked and opened.

And Spider ran into my arms.

“That was risky, Spider. I do not want any harm to come to you,” I said.

“I know. . .I can’t fight like you can. You would have had a better chance at escape,” He confessed, and I held his face in my hand.

“And leave you behind? I would rather die.”

I was unaware of the male presence in the room. He was watching as I caressed his head and hugged him. My body, so much larger than Spiders, was practically towering over him during our embrace. Spider, clearly a human boy, was calling me his mother.

Like how he had wanted Nina to be the mother to his children.

Before he could see anymore, he cleared his throat.

“C’mon sweetheart, let’s get you to your cell,” He dangled hand restraints, smiling like a demon.

“Is that really necessary?” Spider asked.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m haboring a Na’vi who almost ripped my throat out. So yeah, kid, it is,” He gestured to his throat, which had a giant bandage on top of the area that my teeth had latched onto.

I should have tried harder.

Then we would not be here.

I held out my hands, and a demon entered to grab Spider and take him away. I obeyed, not wishing to risk his safety, as the Colonel put the restraints on my wrists.

“Good girl,” He smirked, and my ears folded back as I hissed.

“I will not hesitate next time.”

“Now how are we supposed to communicate if you keep threatening me in Na’vi?”

“I have no intention of communicating with any of you,” I replied.

“You will if you want Spider to remain unharmed,” He yanked on my restraints, pulling me off the table and I said nothing in return.

I stayed silent as he escorted me across the mechanical building. I know that they want Jake, but if they find Jake, then my sister will surely follow. She is a warrior, and she will not simply let them take her Jake. Then the kids. I hated how risky they were, but they are brave and follow their heart's instincts before their own minds.

“Check it out,” I heard a whisper, and glanced to see the demon squad who had dared to hold weapons to the children.

I ignored them, staying put when the Colonel scanned an object and the door opened.

If I can manage to get him close enough, I can get us out.

But before I could go inside, I felt a poke on my back and looked behind me.

And a fist hit my nose.

“That’s for Colonel, you crazy bitch!” My back hit the wall and I touched my nose, feeling the warmth of the blood coming out.

“You show her, Lyle!”

“God fucking damnit,” The Colonel said to himself as he went to help me up, “what’s the matter with you?!”

“Everybody calm down! Return back to your stations,” A demon woman commanded as I pushed Colonel away, and got up myself. The demon was smiling, like he was a man for hitting me.

I waited until I walked inside and turned around to look at him. I knew he was watching me, and I put my foot in the way before it could close. I met his gaze, blood dripping from my nose, and claimed, “hope that made you gain an inch, but you will still have to suck your own dick since no woman will.”

#avatar the way of water imagine #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #miles quaritch #na'vi quaritch #the way of water

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ladylooch · 1 year

Note

a smut request with Nico where you’re needy while you’re pregnant and he helps you out?

A/N: YES! I am so excited about what is coming with these requests! So, we got three great requests that basically follow pregnancy to some sweet baby content. This is part of What My World Spins Around. I know this is technically a you POV request, but I wanted your awesome request in this AU because it's so fitting. Hope you enjoy!

A couple things that came to mind when thinking about dad Nico:

that man is going to be OBSESSED with whoever carries his baby. Like so touchy. So hot for it. So… desperate to be a dad and hold his baby. All the sweetness in the world.

He's a girl dad. 10000000% that is all I can picture him as. He would be so gentle and loving and safe for his daughter. So dependable and wanting to be invested in every single moment- big and small.

You and Your Baby with Nico Hischier

Warning: SMUT (18+ Content), Pregnancy, swearing.

Word Count: 1.6k

I squint in annoyance at the whipping sound of the ceiling fan above me. I am trying to take a much needed rest and the uneven oscillation has me wide awake, contemplating if I can get my 7 month pregnant body up to disassemble it.

I decide probably not. So, instead, I roll myself from side to side to gain momentum to stand up and walk to the light switch. I reach to flip it off, just as my husband comes into the hallway that leads to our room. My squinting turns on him and he cautiously slows his approach.

“What’s wrong? What can I fix?”

“This stupid fan.” I point to the ceiling. He comes to stand next to me, reaching for the baby bump he is absolutely obsessed with touching. He rubs his fingers into my swollen skin, encouraging me to lean against his shoulder while we watch it together.

“Sweets, it’s fine.” This is not the first time I have complained about this fan to him.

“It’s not in my head, Nico. It’s broken.” He bites his lip, watching as it osculates in perfect synchronization.

Brrrrrr. It suddenly vibrates, making my ears perk.

“That!” I shout, pointing at it.

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“Ohmygod. You’re useless.” I huff, stepping away from him. He follows after me, pawing at my belly. His hips bump into mine, pressing his front into my butt cheeks.

“I’m gonna let that go because I know you’re uncomfortable from the hot weather. I did turn the air conditioning down before I came up.” His nose trails along my collarbone as I stand next to our bed, huffing in frustration.

“It’s more than just the weather. Your baby is huge.” I insist, crossing my arms over my enormous breasts. They barely fit into my maternity bra anymore. Everything is expanding and swelling and Nico still looks at me like I’m a goddess. I don’t know how. I’ve caught glimpses of myself in the mirror this week and have practically fainted from disgust. Growing a human is cool; my body going to shit is not.

“She’s measuring very normal.” He reminds me of what they told us at our ultrasound earlier this week.

“Whatever. Swiss babies must be massive or something. Doesn’t feel normal when she bounces on my bladder.” I move back to my side of the bed, adjusting the straps of my bra digging into my shoulders as I go. I can’t stand the discomfort of it holding my breasts to my chest. So I aggressively shimmy it off, tossing it onto the chair by the window. My perked nipples pierce my t-shirt, drawing Nico’s undivided attention. He tries to subtly adjust himself in his shorts as he moves to pacify me again.

“What do you need?” He asks, large hands cupping my hips as he pulls us close. Our baby wedged between us makes it difficult to come together completely.

“I don’t know.” I snap, shoving my hands through my hair and whipping my pony tail in irritation. Nico tilts his head to the side, weaving his gaze down every angry line on my face.

“Maybe you just need a… release.” He questions.

His fingers glide along my shirt, weaving over my bump to come to my heavy breasts. The tips of his fingers tease the peaks until they’re tightened into desperate buds. I sigh, not able to stop the needy moan. I’m so horny all the time still, even in the third trimester. I can barely let him leave the house for summer training. Seeing my pleasure, he reaches down for the hem of my shirt to pull it over my head. My nipples have changed with pregnancy, distinct points with deeper color to them. Nico admires the view, then slowly leans forward to suck the right one into his mouth. I watch his cheeks sink in, tongue stroking every little bit to tease. My fingers rake into his hair, holding him to my chest as his other hand comes to tweak my other nipple.

“Please.” I whisper.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me.”

“I want you to fuck me.” He responds, walking himself backwards to sit on the edge of the bed. “I want to see every perfect part of you as you ride me.” I look away, a little hesitant with how pregnant I am. Our position options are limited right now, but we’ve had the best success with me on top. “I’ll help, baby.” He assures me, encouraging me forward with outstretched arms. My inner core pulses with need, wetness slicking my folds in my panties.

I step forward, placing my hands on his shoulders, watching his dewey brown eyes as he strokes my belly, then grips my hips to encourage me further forward. He grips the waistband of my maternity leggings, shoving them further down my legs. After pulling his shorts off, I straddle him, watching as my belly bumps into his chest. He smiles, leaning down to kiss it.

Nico lays down on his back, watching me lean over him to feather kisses along his jaw. His stubble is delightfully abrasive against my smooth lips. I slide my mouth open, sucking the sensitive skin of his throat. My tongue runs over the red mark, devouring the taste of him.

“Mmm, that feels good.” His hands slide down my back to grip my ass tightly. I reach for his shaft, feeling along the hard, velvet skin. He pulses in my hand. I stroke up, smearing the trail of pre-cum over his hot head. He moans as I begin to jerk him faster with the help of the milky liquid.

His eyes watch hungrily as I move back over his hips. I grip his cock in my hand, working it through my folds, playing with myself while he watches. I savor the feeling of him against my clit. I toss my head back letting out a loud moan that has Nico gripping my hips earnestly.

“Put me inside you, babe.” His words are a desperate hiss. More pre-cum dribbles out onto my folds.

I tilt my head forward again, chest heaving with pleasure as I move him through my slickness one more time, rubbing a hard circle against my clit. I whimper to him, then do as he requested. Once I’m seated completely on him, I relish in the feeling of how full I am with him inside of me. The increased blood flow during pregnancy has been good to me. I flutter my walls around his shaft and Nico groans, fingernails digging into my skin. He’s tired of waiting and lifts me to begin his thrusts.

“Do I look good up here?” I ask him, watching as his eyes drift between my large, jiggling breasts and where we are wetly connecting. The sounds of our thrusts echo through our room. I press my hands on his abdomen for leverage as I move faster.

“So fucking beautiful.” He moans. “Keep going, baby.” He encourages, mouth opening wider to suck in breaths as his thick eyebrows tug together in pleasure. “You feel.. soo.. damn.” He snaps his head back into the pillow. His eyes close as a heavy exhale falls from his mouth. I can tell he’s holding back for me.

I continue to bounce and roll my hips, tilting my head and arching my back, as much as I can this pregnant, to hit a different angle. He’s rigid and his balls have tightened, pushing insistently between my legs as I move. I sigh in pleasure, feeling a similar tightness coil in my core as he presses deeper into me. His thumb comes to my clit as he pants excitedly beneath me. He gently rolls against the bud while raising his thighs behind me so he can help with each pump. He matches me thrust for thrust. I begin to quiver on him, unable to keep the tempo. He takes over completely, fucking me faster and deeper still as I cry out in what seems like pain but is the complete opposite. The orgasm rocks through me as I shudder, belly rigid and round while the last moan gets trapped in my throat.

“Ach du lieber Gott.” Nico sputters as my orgasm squeezes him. He explodes deep into me shoving and rolling my hips with his strong hands as I go limp. I stay like that, him buried in deep, my head tilted back towards the broken ceiling fan, mouth agape, as his hands steady me. I can feel his dick continue to pulse within me, spilling more into me with each spasm.

“I think my soul just left my body.” I tell him when I can finally speak. His hands move from my hips to my belly, then up to my nipples to give them a final stroke. My inner muscles quench around him causing a guttural groan from my husband. “It’s been a long time since you came that fast.” I tease, tilting my head forward. I smooth my hand up his chest as I sit back on his hips with him still buried inside of me.

“I had no chance with how hard you came. Plus, I’m obsessed with you this way… pregnant with our baby.” His hands press deeper and lower on my belly “I want to meet her, but I’m going to miss having you like this. This won’t be our last one, no?”

“We’ll see.” I say, itching at a red, stretch mark close to his right hand. “She might be so perfect that it’s one and done.” I toss him a wink. He knows I want multiple babies.

“Just like her mama.”

Lazily, we pull clothes back on and settle into bed for the nap I was trying to take earlier. Nico wiggles down next to my belly, lips attaching to my bare skin, nose mashing in as deep as he can get it. My eyes drift closed, finally content in my body today. I weave my fingers through Nico’s hair and grip his scalp as I surrender to my exhaustion.

The last thing I remember is Nico telling our daughter how much he loves her.

#nico hischier #nico hischier smut #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fic #new jersey devils #hockey writing #NHL fan fiction #writing requests

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greensimp · 1 year

Note

Hey, a friend of mine linked your glasses fanfic with Gyutaro.

I'm wondering if you could do a fanfic with Gyutaro with a AFAB who has body image issues? I don't really like my body that much, feeling like aspects of it are Frankensteined together with my skin having a couple of blemishes and feeling its not the best or "clearest". Doesn't help when my father makes a lot of comments about me being too thin and should eat more, yet being thin is something a lot of girls want.

Sorry if it got a lil personal, but someone who's also near-sighted, that fanfic made me a lil happy to read it knowing my younger self would have liked that.

I definitely feel you, as someone littered with eczema sores and practically snowing from the scalp with psoriasis. I think Gyutaro would be the most understanding of all our insecurities (and let’s be honest he could probably one-up everyone on here)

I’ll try to be as vague as possible with any identifiers for the reader other than they’re AFAB. This includes any specific insecurities such as being over/underweight, skin issues, height, breast size, etc. (if I get requested to do a specific one like I did the near-sighted reader, I will do it tho)

Canon!Gyutaro x Insecure!AFAB!Reader

He’d see you picking yourself apart in the mirror one night, a strange sense of deja-vu washing over him.

He doesn’t remember, since his memories are repressed, but he’d do a similar song and dance with his reflection in a puddle or lake when he was a human. At least, until he discovered he had a talent for fighting and intimidating people. Before his sister became the epicenter of his life.

He’d become angry for reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

You’d tried hard not to let Gyutaro see you this upset or down about your body, but this night in particular he hadn’t announced his arrival at your house like he usually did. In fact, he had wanted to surprise you with your favorite snack and the Kimono you had been looking at in the stores but could never afford. (Let’s just say he “borrowed it without permission”)

“What’re ya doing?” He’d growl at you, making you jump to cover yourself with your blanket and stare at him with a tear-stained face.

Normally the sight of you crying would have him rushing to comfort you, but something was different this time.

Repressed feelings of inadequacy and shame were scratching at the recesses of his memories, tugging at his chest like chains.

The feeling of being a pathetic worm with no one to love him and no one to love.

He hated it, and he’d hate to see it in your eyes.

It was like a disease.

And the cold truth was that it didn’t stop with him.

“I-I um-“ You’d be stumbling for words, mortified that he’d seen your naked body for the first time like this. You’d be trying too hard not to burst into tears to see the nasty scowl he’d be giving you.

“You what? You were just looking at yourself like that for fun? Huh?!”

Your breath would hitch at his harsh tone. Was he upset with you? What had you done?

“What do you mean?!” You’d cry out, but that would only make him angrier. To him, you’re hiding from the problem. You’ve been hiding a part of yourself you shouldn’t have.

You’re being pathetic. Just like he used to be.

“Disgraceful! Disgraceful!”

He’d bring his hand up to his face and scratch it till he bled, leaving you more confused. You’d never seen him so distressed and this self-destructive. It was like seeing you triggered some sort of traumatic response from within himself.

You just stare as your beautiful demon boyfriend shreds his skin to pieces, only for it to immediately heal as if it never happened.

He wouldn’t know to figure it out himself, but he would feel like he failed you. That’s why he’s so angry. He’s not mad at you. He’s projecting his feelings onto you. He thought he made you feel beautiful and loved as he never had. He thought you knew that.

But you’d catch on. At least, you’d recognize that he was about to break down.

Out of sheer love and affection for your sweet upper moon, you’d jump from your blankets and run to him, gripping his arms to stop his assault on himself.

You’d just stand there, in the nude, no longer caring about how your body looked to him. All you would want was for him to stop.

When he’d finally catch your determined stare with his own, frantic eyes, he’d falter and begin to shake.

It would be evident that he was on the verge of crying by how glossy his eyes would get.

You’d bring your hands up to his face to cup his cheeks and he’d gently grip your wrists.

“Why?” He’d croak out.

You wouldn’t exactly know what he was asking about.

I would be a question of multiple answers, though.

Why would you think you’re not worthy for him when he looks how he does?

Why would you think he wouldn’t love how you look?

How could you have such little faith in him?

You wouldn’t know how to respond, but you’d feel a twinge of guilt all the same.

You’d bring your hands back to yourself, hugging your body and trying not to cry yourself.

“Don’t hide. Please.”

He’d pry your arms from over your breasts and place his hands on your sides, crouching a bit to touch his forehead to yours.

You’d sniffle, maybe struggle a bit, but he’d just snake his arms around your waist and hold you tight.

“M’sorry I yelled at you. M’so sorry.”

His voice wobbled enough to the point where you could struggle anymore. You just let him hold you and show you how much he appreciates you through his gestures of rubbing your back and playing with your hair.

Every stroke, every touch was as if he were saying “let me love you how you love me.”

And yes, he would think you were beautiful. He wouldn’t understand how you’d think he was, considering how unfortunate he looks compared to conventional beauty standards.

He’d want you to know how much he loves your body every day from this moment onward.

He’d never let you forget that you have one of the most powerful demons on the planet admiring you from the shadows. He’d be there, even if you couldn’t see him.

And that demon’s name is Gyutaro.

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