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notmyneighbor · 29 days

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Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Word Count ~ 2.5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content

Also available on AO3

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.

The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.

There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.

The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.

He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.

Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”

The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”

“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”

“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”

You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.

“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.

You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.

Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.

I say I'll move the mountains

And I'll move the mountains

If he wants them out of the way

You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.

The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.

You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”

“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”

“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.

“You asked me to tell you.”

“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”

Like the wind that shakes the bough

He moves me with a smile

“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”

The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”

“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”

“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”

”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”

You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.

He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.

I say I'll care forever

And I mean forever

He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.

He kisses you.

You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.

Crazy he calls me

Sure, I'm crazy

Crazy in love am I

“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.

His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.

“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.

The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.

There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.

You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.

“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.

The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.

The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.

Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.

The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.

Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.

It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”

You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.

“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.

“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.

“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.

You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”

The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.

“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.

#thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #francis mosses x you #francis mosses x reader #milkman x you #milkman x reader #doppelgänger

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kingkatsuki · 6 days

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>>> Reply sent at 1:28AM: who knew Dynamight was such a slut?

Read the other replies here.

Here is my part to the Thirst Trap collab for Bakugou’s birthday! Please check out all the other fics at the link above💕

Happy Birthday to the King👑

Warnings: 18+, intoxicated Bakugou, dirty talk, sending dirty videos, sexting, m!masturbation, voyuerism, exhibitionism, creampies.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Shindou Yo x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Bakugou’s thumb paused against the screen when he saw that particular message in a sea of hopeful replies, a lump tight at the back of his throat as he swallowed thickly in a feeble attempt to clear it.

He’d recognise that profile photo anywhere. Grand’s girlfriend.

Bakugou had spent more than one night fisting his cock to the thought of you, although he’d never admit it. Remembering just how pretty you looked at the hero gala last month in a dress that left very little to the imagination, leaving him bricked up for his acceptance speech as he thought about bending you over in the men’s bathroom stalls.

And part of him thought he might even have a chance with you, if he could get you away from Grand just long enough. Remembering the syrupy scent of your perfume invading his senses when you stood up on tip-toes to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders to give him a hug after he’d received his award; leaving a sticky lipgloss stain against the shell of his ear when you whispered against it how proud you were of him. And he was certain he wouldn’t make it out of the building alive. His boxers now glazed with dry pre and his cock throbbing desperately for any kind of sweet relief.

And now you were messaging him?

Bakugou was quick to click onto your profile, navigating directly towards the direct message option to see he’d already received a slew of them, but they didn’t appear to be from you.

YOU[1:57AM]: Aww you didn’t think that message was actually from her, did you?

Shit, Bakugou grunted as his cock still throbbed pitifully between his thighs, of course Shindou was the one texting from your phone and not you. Certain he could hear Shindou’s condescending tone through text.

YOU[1:58AM]: Oh, you did? You sick fuck hahahahaha.

YOU[1:58AM]: She’d never message you without telling me anyway.

Bakugou growled in irritation as he read through each message. Of course, Shindou texts were just as annoying as the man was in real life.

YOU[1:59AM]: But you should’ve seen how excited she got when you sent that tweet.

YOU[2:00AM]: It made her stupid little crush on you even worse.

Wait, what? Bakugou’s heart pounded at the realisation as he saw the next message. A link to a video that had a pitch black screen to start, his heart hammered against his chest as he clicked onto it.

And there you were spread out in all your naked glory. The sordid fantasies Bakugou had while stroking his cock at night would never compare to the sight of you like this— spread out against tousled sheets as you stared up at the camera through thick lashes.

The perfect point of view, Bakugou thought as he imagined himself above you.

“I guess I should be thanking you for this, Dynamight.” Shindou sneered, reaching out to mould one of your round breasts between slender fingers. Pinching at your taut nipple as a groan rumbled deep in Bakugou’s chest, “Getting my girl all riled up in the middle of the night.”

Bakugou wondered if he’d actually fallen asleep, because this had to be a dream. Reaching down to palm his cock through his damp boxers as crimson eyes roamed your naked skin, trying to commit the sight to memory.

“Lucky I was right here to fix it,” He continued, “That what got you excited huh, sweetheart?”

Shindou’s voice rung out from behind the camera as he fucked into your body with slow, deliberate thrusts. Each precise motion had your tits bouncing, a calculated move from his rival, he thought. Watching the way your lips parted in sultry moans every time he drew back, trying to coax him deeper as your cunt gushed around him.

“Thinking about Dynamight’s hard cock.” And Bakugou’s cock was hard, throbbing with neglect as he wrapped a large fist around himself to curl his wrist. Smearing pre, that was now drooling down his engorged head along the length of him as crimson eyes watched the video.

“He shoulda just text you if he wanted a birthday treat, huh?” Shindou continued, panning the camera down to where your bodies were connected so Bakugou could see the creamy rings of slick around the base of his cock each time he drew his hips back, “You’d have been more than happy to get on your knees for him.”

Bakugou whined pitifully at the thought of you like that, looking up at him all pretty and shit as you wrapped your glossy lips around his cock. His hand tightened around himself as he he pumped himself with calculated measure. Following Shindou’s movements as he fucked into your warm, wet cunt as he tried to replicate the sensation. Positive that nothing would ever feel as good as the real thing—

“Say his name, sweetheart,” Shindou continued, bringing the camera up towards your face, “Come on, it’s his fuckin’ birthday.”

“Katsuki,” The lewd squelch of your cunt aired in the background as Bakugou focused in on the desperate lilt to your voice when you repeated it, “Katsuki.”

Bakugou grunted as he leaned forward, pursing his lips together to spit onto his cock. Smearing the moisture along his length as he imagined it was you sinking down onto his length instead.

“God, you’re such a nasty slut,” Shindou continued, as though he hadn’t been the biggest instigator, “Moaning another guys name while I’m balls deep. Bet you’re thinking about him fuckin’ this sweet, sweet cunt too?”

“Oh my god, fuck—” You mewled, hands reaching up to paw at your tits as Bakugou watched the way your hands dipped into the soft skin.

“Is that it?” Shindou pressed, “You want Dynamight to fuck this sloppy pussy?”

“Yes!” You cried out, cunt clenching around him.

“Oh, shit.” Shindou rasped, the camera angle faltering as he jolted with pleasure. Almost dropping his phone as he readjusted himself above you, the camera now angled lower to show Shindou’s thick cock disappearing inside your tight cunt. A sheen of your slick glistened around the base of him as he kept his languid pace.

“We should invite him round, then?” Shindou continued, “It is his birthday, after all.”

You gasped at the implication, your body reacting to your boyfriend’s words as he smirked down at you. Giving the side of your thigh a playful swat as you moaned in response.

“Yeah? You like the sound of that?” Shindou cooed, “She clenched around me so fucking hard when I said that.”

Bakugou groaned, squeezing his fist around himself in a pitiful attempt to mimic the action. Trying to replicate the grip of your cunt around him as he pictured the pretty faces you’d make for him.

“‘m close,” You panted, biting down on your bottom lip as Bakugou felt his balls tightening at the sight, dangerously close to his own end.

“Yeah? You gonna cum?” Shindou coaxed, his thumb disappearing between your thighs to press taut circles to your puffy clit, “Show Dynamight how pretty you look when you’re cumming all over my cock, sweetheart.”

And fuck, did you look pretty. Bakugou thinks. Your eyes rolling to show their whites as your lashes flutter, lips curled into the prettiest moan he’s ever heard as you begin to convulse. Nails leaving dark lines against your tits as you mould the supple skin, thighs raising in the air to try and clamp down around Shindou’s hips.

“Fuck,” Bakugou snarled between clenched teeth as he sped up his movements, rough and sloppy as he desperately tried to meet your climax. Wanting to tumble into bliss by your side as the camera moved back towards your slick heat, his hips jerking sloppily as he felt himself come undone. Sending streams of milky cum against his hand, thighs and the new sheets he’d put on for his special day. A whole ass mess.

“Bet you would’ve preferred cumming inside this perfect little pussy,” Shindou spoke, as if he knew Bakugou would be touching himself while watching.

Slowly pulling his spent cock out of your trembling hole before moving the phone between your thick thighs so Bakugou could see the gape. A stretch Bakugou wished he’d inflicted on you as he brought his phone closer to his face to try and see the way your walls still fluttered in the aftershocks of your release, his spent cock throbbing when he noticed you begin to push Shindou’s warm spunk out of your abused hole. Watching it drool down between the curve of your ass before Shindou’s thumb came up to collect it; pushing it back inside you as you let out another sinful moan of delight.

“You think Dynamight would fuck you this good, sweetheart?” Shindou coaxed as the pads of his fingers circled your stretched hole.

“Mmm, I think he would,” You mumbled, gasping when Shindou’s palm came down hard on your slit, catching you by surprise.

“Course you’d think that,” Your boyfriend laughed, shaking his head as he leaned down to press a kiss to your pouty lips.

“Maybe you should come and get your birthday head,” Shindou turned the camera around to show his smirking face as he sat shirtless above you, “So you can show her how tiny your cock really is.”

Bakugou shared up at the ceiling with blown out eyes, wondering if he’d sobered up enough to move as his chest still heaved with the intensity of his climax. Taking a deep breath before he moved to stand, grabbing his keys off the bedside table as he shoved his softening cock back into his jeans.

Fuck it, he’ll get an Uber.

#Bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #Shindou smut #Shindou x reader #yo Shindou smut #yo Shindou x reader

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onepiecepetalfanfics089 · 8 months

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Yandere Sanji vs Yandere Zoro with a naive reader who has every flirt just go over their head. Including by drunks at a bar- and maybe those two have enough and decide sharing is the best way to get fast results?

Ours To Take~..

Humming softly, you stared at the words in your book with a smile while occasionally admiring the beautiful sky. Nothing really concerned you that much and everything was fine! Well you mean..zoro and sanji were acting rather strange lately to you but the thought of them having any interest in you completely flew over your head.

Why would they? Sanji flirts with literally anything that has boobs, and Zoro is well..Zoro!

A rather loud and ‘romantic voice’ snapped you out of your thoughts and your reading as you blinked.

“Y/N-SWAAAANN!!!~ i have another drink for you my dear!”

You chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the man who was running towards you with heart shaped pupils and a tray with your favorite drink..again.

“Uh sanji?..i haven’t even finished the one you gave me just thirty minutes ago!” You laughed softly. Referring to the drink on the railing he’d made you so you wouldn’t ‘die of thirst’ and because his beloved Y/N needed to be pampered.

Sanji then grinned, dramatically getting down one knee like he was bowing to you. “Oh but my lovely Y/N..you’ll need backups! And…” he then stood up and got rather close to you with a smile, the smell of smoke filled your nostrils from his cigarette and you fought back the urge to scrunch your nose from the contact of the smoke. He smiled and kissed your hand.

Huh..weird..but then again he did that with every girl! Right..?

You stared into his sea blue eyes awkwardly and then gave a friendly smile. “Oh..well thanks I guess Sanji!” You Saïd while you turning back to your book. Sanji felt a pang in his heart as he sighed.

He plastered on a smiled and slowly walked away..almost like he was sad or disappointed. You glanced up at him curiously from your book but brushed it off while he sulked in the kitchen without you knowing of course.

A few minutes passed by and the nice breeze passed, slowly flowing through your hair. The pages of your book started to scatter and you scoffed, quickly book marking it and stretching.

The faint sound of footsteps caught your attention.

“Hm…must be Nami or Luffy..”

You thought as you sipped the first drink Sanji had given you.

Suddenly then, your book was about to fall off the railing and into the deep sea. Panicked, your eyes widened as you you reached out for it but then saw a rather large and masculine hand catch the book with little ease. You then felt a strong hand on your hip from behind.

The sudden warm sensation on your skin caused you to turn around to the person who just saved your book.

Storm grey eyes looked back at you and silence fell upon the both of you.

“..Hey..be careful next time.”

A deep monotone voice said to you almost quietly. Looking up you saw no one other than the green haired swordsman himself, Zoro.

Giving a soft yet platonic smile and gently took the book out of his hand.

“Hah, thanks Zoro! That book Robin gave me was almost gone!” You Saïd as you sat the book down on your side table you got for yourself to set your drinks on.

He stared into your eyes for a moment and made a grunting sound. “Yea..maybe try to set it on the table next time?..”

“Yea i don’t know why I didn’t do that in the first place..”

You Saïd with a blink, trying to make it seem like you were actually pondering instead of slowly trying to scoot away from zoro because he was in your space bubble for whatever reason..

Suddenly his grip seemed to tighten on you, causing you to glance down at his hand and then up at him. He slowly loosened his grip and rubbed circles with his thumb on it, trying to be as gentle as he could.

Your eyebrows couldn’t help but raise in confusion.

“Uh hey zoro why is your-”

“Did Nami tell you when we’re docking on the next island?..”

Narrowing your eyes you just gave up and leaned your back on the railing as he stood in front of you, one hand on the railing and the other on your hip.

“Hmm…she said in about an hour..”

He stared at you intently for a moment.

“Well are you heading anywhere when we dock?..”

“..no, I think shopping can wait until tomorrow”

You then grin as you get an idea. What if you invited a few of your friends to lighten the mood with Zoro and Sanji? It was perfect!

Nothing could happen to ruin the night!…

Right?

You then look up at Zoro with an encouraging smile as you got off the railing.

“Oh! I have an idea..what if we went to the bar together once we dock on the island? I know you would love a drink..” you said playfully hitting zoros shoulder in which he responded with a scoff and a smug smile you always saw him with.

“I’ll even invite Sanji and the others too!”

His smile then immediately disappeared and the glimmer you saw in his eyes faded. He grumbled a reply and pulled away from you rather quickly. Almost seeming to storm off like he was annoyed or angry at something…maybe specifically even someone?..

huh that’s weird..!

You just shrugged his obvious annoyance off and sipped your drink while hot summer sun made your skin warm up and glow.

You stretched as you felt the ship dock on a new island, a grin spread across your face as you finally stepped foot on land for the first time in weeks.

It was a little after sunset by now and you went over to get Sanji and Zoro to get some drinks, the others respectfully had other things to do or had shops to attend so it was just you three.

On the way to the local bar you saw a few miles ahead, Sanji kept blabbering on about some romantic things and complimenting you non stop for sone reason.

You respectfully said a thank you and went on to another topic in the conversation, causing the both of them to frown or narrow their eyes at you.

Sitting down in one of the seats at the bar you smiled at the bar tender and ordered some drinks, after you started some small talk with zoro who kept staring at you intently or seeming to move closer. You just would raise an eyebrow and ignore it.

A hand on your thigh stopped you from finishing your sentence as you slowly turned over your shoulder to see a man who was obviously drunk, he slowly crept his hand up to your inner thigh and you just stared, asking the man what he was doing.

“Oh nothing sweet-cakes..you just have such a fucking good body..couldn’t help myself.” He slurred, his hands slowly sliding under your shirt. Your eyes widened and you were about to do something when a hand grabbed the guys arms rather roughly.

So rough that it was turning red, causing the man to hiss in pain. He turned toward the one who had grabbed his so aggressively and growled.

“What’s the big idea asshole?” He spat while glaring at the swordsman with good instincts.

Before anything else could even happen, the man suddenly had a foot on his back. Sanji said nothing as the drunk man stumbled and groaned from the kick.

“Come with us.”

The sound of Zoro sheathing his bloody swords rang through Sanji’s ears while the smell of smoke filled the swordsman’s nostrils.

Sanji’s eyes were covered by a shadow while he sighed, almost clutching his cigarette.

The corpse before the two pirates was cut up and brutally kicked.

“This is never going to work..” Zoro heard the cook mutter while he threw the corpse in a near by dumpster.

“….”

The two men eyes then both locked, giving each other a knowing look. They both absolutely loathed the idea but..

“We should work together marimo..”

“…and why in hell would we do that cook?”

“Use your brain moss head…it’s clearly obvious that neither of us are making any progress with them..so maybe the results might go faster if we try to win them over together..”

He thought about the idea for a split second..

“Fine. Just don’t screw it up..got it curly brows?”

“Yea whatever mosshead just try not to intimidate my beloved Y/N to much..”

“What’s taking them so long out there?..” you mumbled to yourself as you sipped your drink. Surely a talk with that man couldn’t have taken that long right? It was getting late and the bar was even about to close.

The sound of the back ally doors opening and shutting back suddenly caught your attention as you you jump a little from the sudden noise while slowly turning around to indeed see the swordsman and cook of the crew.

Smiling while turning around in your chair you greeted them.

“Hey guys..what took so long?..the bars about to close-”

Without another word you felt arms wrap around you and the smell of Sanjis cologne seeming to fill the air.

Strong hands slowly slid on your shoulders and squeezed them gently before wrapping around your collarbone and rubbing the area gently. The feeling of calloused fingers massaging your skin and of a chin resting on top of your head made your skin tingle and shiver..just what were they trying to do..?

Slowly moving your body to get out out of their embrace, you had enough of their touch for a day but the two pairs of arms only tightened around you immediately.

“Guys? What are You doing??…whats going on with you guys today..?”

You said with a sigh while trying to gently push away from them away again.

This only caused zoro to scoff and turn your head close enough to his so he could kiss you passionately, his tongue licking your bottom lip slowly while his hands slid down to your waist and giving a light squeeze.

“Your such an idiot sometimes.”

He said bluntly with a hint of annoyance.

You then felt something wet on your shirt and looked down..was that blood..?

Now taking a look at the both of them you saw that their clothes had a decent amount if blood on them. Eyes widening, your breath hitched.

“Um..guys what’s that on your clothes?..”

They both stayed silent and sanji just gave a loving smile, lifting your chin up as he gave you another passionate kiss.

Starting to feel a lot of things..like unheard..uncomfortable and most of all..unsafe…? you tried to push away from but only got neck kisses from zoro while he gripped you tighter.

Sanji leaned his lips close to your lips to whisper against them, his voice soothing yet so..off putting..

“Shh Y/N my dear…you wouldn’t understand so we made our feelings clear…you’re ours to take now after all~…”

Hope you guys like this!! It was honestly so fun to right and I loved it! Hope you did too 🌸❤️ thank you to the person who requested it! I honestly love writing zoro and sanji or the straw hats in general because I’m in love with their characters lol-

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cherieiu · 22 days

Text

; SAY YES TO ME,

sypn. whether he likes it or not, insecurity chased him — you're too much for him, too loving, too caring — he doesn't (does) deserve you. pairing. aventurine x gn!reader notepad. super super short omg i tried my best D:, its vv icky and kinda ooc, for @toorurs (EWW THE BIGGEST ICK OUT THERE VIOLENTLY THROWS UP MAJOR ICKKK) this is so icky ick i'll write more aven as an apology!! reblogs are super duper appreciated!!!

they say, 'to be loved is to be changed', yet the mellow bitterness rests still in his heart, immotile and repulsive. the warm feeling you induce in him nauseates him. your honeyed voice sings him sweet nothings, your fingertips lovingly worship his skin — he doesn't deserve this heaven, he doesn't deserve you. he only taints with every fleeting touch, his opalescent gaze alone filthies you. aventurine sickens himself, you're forced to carry the burden of him (undeserving and of little worth) on your shoulders.

"isn't it tiring?" his voice is hushed, vulnerability seeping through every word. the hem of his shirt is tightly crumpled between the crevices of his hand, the sweet taste of insecurity melted onto his tongue. his shoulder tense with tangible anxiety— a dangerous gamble he's willing to lay his heart vulnerable for.

"aren't i tiring?"

the dim iridescent moonlight blankets your frame and his - you look ethereal, he swallows the words down.

"no! of course not," how the words slip past your candied lips with such ease. the scent of lilac gloss lays heavily in the air and on his lips — the sticky kisses that smear onto his skin, the constant reminder of you.

"you're not lying, are you?" uncertainty laces his voice, "do you promise?"

you nod, pressing candy-like kisses on his pillowy lips with a determination to convince him. "you'd be able to tell if i was," you breathe out, blonde strands tickling your nose.

"it's hard to tell when it's you," his voice painfully aches of longing, for your comfort — the cup he held never overflowed — , satiates his thirst for repeated words with lost meanings. "it's like i can't see through you- just makes it hard to tell," (as if you're a clouded mirror, only with his warmth can he see past the fog) the confession slips past his lips, silently hanging in the air.

you glance up at him with curiousity, "is it? then, can you tell if i love you?"

his breath tenses - do you truly love him? the line between truth and lie blurs, he can't discern the two; if he were a shameless man with nothing left to give, he allows the words to swallow him. with so little left, it wouldn't hurt, would it? — regardless of truth or lie, he's a starved man who'll indulge in this.

"yes, you do," serenity's a sea, it never stills yet he only wishes for this moment to last — may it be a memory he'll run back to in his dreams.

cherieiu 2024 © plagiarism, use of ai, reposting and translation is not permitted.

#xue:fics!#hsr x reader #honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x you #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #EWW I HATE THUS THROWING UP VIOLENTLY?!

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fjordstan · 2 years

Photo

fj cameo my beloved

#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #sprinkle one shot #sprinkle's incredible journey #fjord stone #cr fjord #jester lavorre #fjorester #travis willingham #laura bailey #cr clapp #cr joanne #cr sprinkle #cr toby #orig #thirsting for a sea man #blueberry babeyy

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ladythornofrivia · 6 months

Text

Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part One)

🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉

Next Chapter

summary: modern!reader woke up in Westeros after getting drunk.

pair: aemond x reader

warnings & disclaimer: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant but is secretly a softie, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, jealousy, stalking, virginity loss, obsession, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Pro-Green, Reader is a green supporter. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader).

a/n: it’s official! It’s here! I hope you enjoy my fanfic series of ‘Kingdom of Fire and Blood’.

Chapter One: The Dark Uproar

In a realm of dragons and knights,

There lays with conquer and fear, from scorching summer through bleak winters, through life of air and fire and ashes.

In a realm of nobility and law, in the halls of mountain and sea,

the green star has shed upon the dark, cloudless sky, wedged upon the shrouded waters of Westeros.

The green star has emerged.

“Seize her! Don’t let her get away!” the man pointed at you dashing away from the scenery.

It’s a dream. You were sure that it’s a dream. Dreams occurred in a blurry vision, not by transparency. Dreams are often—and easily—forgotten once awake after the newborn daylight arises.

In a midst of pursuit, you retraced back your steps. You went at your friend’s celebration, then eat and watched anime— you didn’t have much vigor to spare for removing your makeup due to sleepiness. The last thing you ever did was you resting on your warm bed without a change of clothing, now dry and shivering, laying down on a half-parched sand, half-asleep while unsure of what’s happening before your arrival. You were unconscious deeply in your sleep you weren’t aware of the commotion you have caused, awoken by the young knight, who found you in the brink of nightfall—who fled and carried you—travelled within distance for three days.

Under a huffed breath, legs and feet numbed as you carried yourself away to stray paths where band of guards weren’t able to trace you accurately. You’re much lighter and faster with sprinting; due to their armor, they couldn’t move they so desire. Even more so when some guards have horses with them. Or hounds barking with thirst for a good gnaw on your youthful flesh.

Until now, you’re steadfast with rush. Harsh wind blasted in your earholes at the stallion’s speed.

Your mind is raced with previous encounter, mind occupied with millions of panic inquiries.

~ before the chase ~

Previously, with your skin and bones beneath your tight crop top shirt and tennis skirt quivering at a spine-tingling weather, despite the lack of storming wind, you have no idea where to begin on what to say to the young knight but offering him a small yet timid smile to lessen the intensity of cumbersome fate that’s forcefully thrusted upon you, oblivious and frightened, shaking like a grumpy feline that despises water or anything that touches the feline.

Upon the yearnings of a weeping locked inside your heaving chest, of begging and wanting to go home was futile, estranged within a foreign land. As the vexed fate of anxiety clambered into your heart, the staggering breaths and rasps in your voice and your loud thoughts has been noticed by a young man in fancy armor, bestowing you with a relieved grin etched on his weary features. You’re certain that Halloween is over.

“You have awaken,” he said with a brightened grin, though you weren’t focused on the sound of his voice, but saw his lips shifted.

Noticing the young man’s eyes, you were positive that no one wouldn’t rescue a stranger such as yourself. Groaning, you leaned your back against over the bulkiness of a tumbled tree. Fire flickered and crackled like bones snapped to pieces.

“Can you hear me, my lady?” he asked, alarmed yet almost as quiet; he didn’t wish to see you alert under his aid.

“My lady,” you repeated, lifting your heavy-numbing head, confused as you were shaking with your eyes sealed with bursting pink stars flowing in your black vision, ears, head and heart pounded against you wakened state. Sighing, you resumed with, “How long have I been unconscious?”

“For three days,” he said, the soft outline of his lips curled upward, as if he was relieved to see you alive and well. Your eyes examined him, spotting the clean armor and a long sword carried in his sheath.

“What happened?”

“I saw you lying unconscious, so I have to come and save you, hoping that you’re alive.”

Everything was bizarre at this point.

“Save me?” you asked the boy, subconscious, coughing out the thick, salted water, clutching your chest tight, pounding for the leftover to drain.

“Yes, my lady,” the young man said with a kind smile, but his glassy eyes beamed against your frightful ones, covered in soot, despite being drenched. “I was sent by my father for a further alliance with another house, but as soon as I left the castle, I found lying you unconscious in the midst of the ocean. I have swam my way to rescue you.”

“Where did you find me exactly? I’m all wet,” you commented, lips curled in disgust your clothes are caked in black sand and puddle.

“I found you by the shores, and took you in quick before anyone could search on the grounds.”

Your head was pounding.

“Shores?”

“At Blackwater Bay,” he explained.

Blackwater Bay, you thought as your fingernails scraped onto your wet scalp. That name sounds familiar.

The back of your head was pounding. “Are we still at Blackwater Bay?”

“We travelled within three days while you were in your subconscious state. A fewer miles ahead and you’re already in the kingdom.”

Then the skies filled with an animalistic roar, screeching like nails on a chalkboard.

Your ears covered and shoulder blades flinched at the long, grating sound.

Your shoulders flinched as you said, “What the hell is that?”

The young man still grinned, remaining silenced from your projected inquiry.

“They’re still frightened of the sound,” is all he said. “Of the light.”

You eyed on him with perplexed expression resting on your features.

“What light?” you wondered. “What did you mean when you ‘they’re still frightened of the sound’?”

“Dragons,” the young man said, eyes twinkled. “You came down here with the light, and that’s what’s causing the uproar.”

You found his cryptic statement alarmingly bizarre due to his faint enthusiasm.

“We’re reaching close to our destination,” he said, but you still don’t comprehend.

Bewildered, before you could ask another, the clanging sounds of metal and flickering flames on a torch and countless heavy stomps dashed on its way to your direction.

“Allow me to escort you to safety. These guards are brutal than ravage beasts,” he said to you. “I can’t let a young maiden die in vain.”

Your breath held in shortly.

“Which way should I go? Is there a safe spot for me to hide?”

“Take the nearest path down on a pebbled road and hide. From there, you’ll see the narrow passage, one where no one uses. Traitors and spies lurking about the lower grounds.” and kept heading The young man pushed you, guided you and instructed you to conceal behind the large and sharp boulder, while your legs shaken, air colder than ice. However, another realization dawned upon your wake. You have nowhere to go. Not in this foreign land.

Thoughts conjured and slice your numb mind open. Death is near me; I’ll be killed if I don’t have something with me.

“Where am I heading to?”

“Somewhere far where they can’t reach you or trace your steps. You’re heading to a place where the crown’s might is still strong.”

You paused in your tracks. Wait, that can’t be right.

The rumbled noise made it’s passage close to your location, causing for your heart and his sprung with immense fear.

Both of you reached in time as he hoisted your body up on the saddle. Before whipping the reins on the horse, the young man gave you the dagger with a symbol on his shining armor. The same sigil the knight has on his armor—or so it appears. “You’ll be in safer hands if you carry something with you.”

“If we meet again, I’ll return this blade back to you.”

His eyes gazed into yours with a sad smile.

“Still, I don’t even know your name.”

He grasped your hand shortly. He smiled. “Ser Remon Blackwood.”

The pounded hooves reached a louder noise, getting near to your direction.

“Thank you, Ser Blackwood,” you said.

Remon Blackwood had his hand reached out to yours. “You share kindness like no other. Not like the people in the realm with conquering dragons. It’s an honor to meet you, my lady,” he said, giving you a one last smile.

“Dragons?” you questioned in shock.

He gave a hard slap on the horse’s front leg, as he watched his given horse galloped with you giving one last look onto the despairing knight with a somber smile.

Your eyes darted forward, leaving your ears perceiving the traced sounds of sword clashed and rang, forest filled with raged shouts.

Afar, a young knight plea for mercy, then a long-produced sounds of swords slipped through cracked armor and bones, blood shed and slimed over the forest ground.

Then nothing; only the solid ripples of the heavy hooves and a rushed wind from a great stallion’s speed deafened onto your ears.

The good knight is dead.

And the nightfall became colder.

~ present ~

The horse nearly reached to a wide-ranged road when five of the men continued to pursuit you, eyes preyed on you at the back of your head, drilling and contain in unyielding desire of violence.

“Kill the bitch!” one man shouted.

Looking over to your shoulder, on your left, you saw the man on the right drew out a bow, and sent the arrow down at your back. But you managed to duck in time. With an irritated huff, the man sent another blow with the second arrow. You ducked your head once more, gazing back, then forth, then back again.

Heart pounding in your chest; the distance between them began to shrink.

“For fuck’s sake,” the first man bellowed, wrinkles on his forehead protruded, veins on his neck were visible. “Sent the arrow flying down on that bitch’s neck, you good for nothing prick!”

The second man’s face went pale. “I’m trying, sire.”

“Try harder, you useless fucktwad!”

Clutched fingers against the writhed reins grew tired, the steadiness in your breath increased tenfold in suffocation, heart rate escalated twice as strong—feeling hot and cold all at once. Cold sweat plastered to your clutched hands as you whipped the reins harder, indicating a sign for the stallion advance farther. The pace began to slow; you whipped the reins, but no to avail.

“Please, hurry,” you begged, head leaning against the horse’s ear, holding onto your dear life as death still awaits for you.

The man reload with the third arrow. His aim targeted to your face. For a second, he went still with his aim, but immediately shot at the back of the horse’s leg. The back of the horse’s limbs tripped and flipped in mid-air, sent you flying forward with a loud clash on the forest ground that nearly shattered your back and ribcage. Ears rang and eyes shut with gritted teeth droned a sharp hiss from your lips as the men dismounted down and marched their towered over you crumpled form.

Immediately, you gathered your shattered form and fled with your hidden in plain sight. The limp on your leg made a painfully deliberate pace as you attempt to go farther while the men with cloaks and big swords, following you, wearing a yellow and crooked teeth on their lips, sniggering at your flee. And by the time you reached at the centered road, nearly to the exit, your path has been blocked by two more men, who you unaware of the extra company. One man grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you down. Drawing the dagger out, your hand brought down on his foot, then his knee, then his thigh—never minding the hysterical noise. Loosening the grip on your head, while on your knees, with a support of your foot, you spun around and stabbed a knee from another man.

You couldn’t scream or cry for help anymore. After all, you’re drowsy from ocean water, still wet and lost, in an unwonted void of labyrinth.

“What shall we do of this little cunt?” the man with a thin beard said.

“We’re going to make a use of her, bore into her with my seed and carry the filthy bastard inside her,” the second man with a short, uneven bowl cut suggested confidently. “After that, I’ll eat her flesh.”

“Stupid cunt can’t even fend for herself,” the third man, who was shorter than you said, cackling. “Let’s all take turns then. Whoever makes her scream the hardest, will get to keep her as a toy.”

One man undo his armor on the half-bottom, the clanging armor bumped in haste rhythm, as all the men who towered over your sicken stature, shed their trousers out.

Before one could pull the long cock out, with a knife in your hand, given by the young knight, you sliced his cock apart, left him wailing like an infant, blood splattered like waterfall. The men hovered you with their grubby hands, but you dodged—rolled back and took a hard swing at the man on your left, chopped his hand off. With the knife on your hand, it felt more like a short sword.

Another man has struck.

The bulky man in the middle plunged a full swing on your belly. Yelping, your arms encompassed over your flesh as the man plunged another blow with his hardened boot. His eyes gaze over the blade and punted it over to the side, then stomped over your belly and breasts in repeated motion until he grows tired. Once his foot has grown fatigue, he grabbed your thighs and spread them apart.

“No…” you said, pleading and crying. “Please don’t!”

The man dragged your panties and your tennis skirt down in barbarous motion. “Stay still and be a good wench,” he said, muddy fingers traced over your skin. You bit his fingers, drawing hot blood.

Enraged, his hands strangled you. With quick thinking, you knee slammed against his balls and kicked his face, crawling away before retrieving the dagger back, the man stomped over your left wrist, your mouth opened, but no sound came except the twinge of pain searing in your bones.

“You should’ve listen and stay still like a dog,” the man sneering, pulling your hair back again. The blurriness in your eyes worsened.

With your bones and limbs have been shattered, the hope in you began to fade. No hopes of a savior or luck stayed in hand with your despair.

His boot lunched another blow struck against your face, only to be bled through your nose, your body is broken and immovable, you couldn’t find yourself speaking, or cry for aid. Nothing good ever comes.

Except you’re alive. In fact, you were letting your guard down—pretending to be dead, abiding for the enemy to make a hasty error. The squint on your right eye left a little gap, seeing the man, kneeling down on you as he took off his trousers merrily. But as he splayed his cock out in the cold air, you managed the seize the dagger, tackled him and slashed his throat, while alive, the dagger impaled him through one of his eyes, then nose, then cheek—spare vigor imploded under a last sheer of your quick anger. The man’s face and mouth flowed with warm blood, choking and plopped down back on the surface with a thunderous thud.

From there, you stood once more and limped your way through the exit from the forest’s road in so little steps.

Only remains are the trees billowed and rustled and swayed through a gentle, cool breeze, and with you exhaling with a cautious breath you held in your chest and limbs worn out and limped as your vision drown into darkness.

~~~

Ser Criston Cole accompanied the band of men through the forest, as for they ought to repose for a short while. Sundowns became long, and the dragons in the heavens unyielded through an unforgiving climate.

The dragons don’t bear the coldness of wintry-like air. In the old days of Valyria, centuries before the time of Viserys’s reign, none of the great dragons and its people survived the Doom of Valyria, and within the errored times, from moving Essos to Westeros, dragons hatched into a total of eighteen—mighty and proud and carnivorous and bloodthirsty, though tamed through the influence of their rightful owners—heirlooms and foundation of companionship and trust between those who have the blood of a Valyria and connections through history. For instance, Vhagar is the second largest dragon compare to the other dragon riders owned. Dragons are obedient when those who dialect in Valyrian tongue, if not some. Some takes a special gift to have certain trust with a dragon, and dragon shares it’s mutual respect to the owner.

But it can’t say the same to the recent owners. The Blackwater Bay boomed nearby the Dragonstone. And during the nightly hours, the dragons were deeply asleep, though fully awakened by the quiet whiplash of what it appears to be none other than the small green light yet brightly shot downward from the vast of great, empty sky. Two nights ago, Prince Daemon tried to appease his dragon, Caraxes, the red scaly beast, but it’s clear enough to sent the prince with hesitation. Prince Daemon reached Caraxes with his hand for reassurance but Caraxes nearly snapped Prince Daemon’s hand in half. Criston Cole has neither seen Prince Daemon or Caraxes in the verge of calamity. Prince Daemon, a rogue prince who tends be as brute yet reckless and composed has been caught off guard.

The dragons have startled the men—knights and royals alike completely—peasants, too. The green starry light has fallen into the thundering waves, almost as if it was the end of Westeros. The booming wave from Blackwater Bay still lingers the aftermath effect. None slept through the night. They were returning to King’s Landing from meeting the lord from the north nearby the Blackwater Bay. But Prince Daemon, as always, fled away without considering so much of a wait for the others.

Under the gentle moonlight floating from the clouds, Ser Criston and his men galloped through the forest with their horses, hooves stomped over the twigs and dead leaves and the steeped grounds. By the time they reached into the monumental of pointed, red structures and gold and white in the city, Criston Cole couldn’t wait to repose and serve the Greens, mainly Queen Alicent, King Viserys’s second wife.

The stallion neighed loudly as it thrown its front hooves up in the air. Criston Cole’s heart leapt, somewhat appeasing his steed as the men behind him halted without a warning, causing others to nearly fall.

“What in the Seven Hells…” the man beside Criston Cole, took upon the glance at the fallen men in the midst of their exit.

Criston took the man’s torch and investigated the scenery. The fallen men all have bled from their knees to their open crotches. Hardness of their cock had flung out from a sharp blade. Criston winced at the sudden imagery flashed through his head.

“What could’ve done this…” a scrawny man said, perturbed.

“It must’ve been the work of a demon,” another man commented.

Criston moved onward, his legs carried him far and examined the view before him long before he reached to a figure, laying down. Rushing to her side, he noticed that her attire was far strangely and strikingly unique and bright compare what other women in the court wore. Turning her over, Criston settled his palm over her visage, pushing the long locks aside.

“My lady,” he muttered, still calm. While carrying the torch, he removed his glove with his teeth and touched her face. It was warm. Then he traced his hand below on the center of her chest.

Her heart in fact, still beating. He heaved with relief and called out to his men.

“This girl is alive! We must take her back to King’s Landing!” He passed the torch to the man beside him, who was following Criston without Criston noticed, and ripped his cloak off and wrapped the cloak around you and carried your unconscious body back to the men. Instructing the man to carry you while mounted on his horse and retrieved you back, placing you at the front.

“What of the Targaryens?” the man asked, somewhat scared.

Criston gave a sharp glare.

His fellow comrades, knowing Criston’s reputation, has not said a word, and followed Criston back to the realm where dragons reign.

Taglist: @liannafae

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

High Infidelity

Adult!Neteyam x (f)Metkayina!Reader x Ao'nung

Warnings: cheating, smut (fingering, oral - f receiving, praise kink), cursing, 18+ minors dni

Word count: 3.7k words

Notes: oops, was supposed to write other things, but listening to this song triggered smth in my brain so here it is x enjoy ;)

next part (x)

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?

“I’m tired, we can do it tomorrow.”

“Ao’nung, we haven’t been swimming together in months. We’re supposed to be together for the rest of our lives, you’d think I wouldn’t have to drag you outside to spend time with me every other day.”

“Maybe if you stopped nagging me like we’re already mated, I would be more inclined to want to spend time with you.”

You couldn’t stop the tears falling down your cheeks any less than your legs making a run for it at the slightest pushback from your mate-to-be. Running away was the only time you felt free anymore. You loved Ao’nung. He’s been in your life… well, your whole life. There was little of you that wasn’t tied back to him and there was little of him that wasn’t embedded in you. You grew up together, Tsireya’s best friend and confidant, Ronal’s long-lost daughter, it seemed. You might as well be, since your parents were never around anyway, not to raise you, or to teach you better than to accept such treatment from a boy, who had been sweet and kind to you all your life, until he realised you liked him, until he realised that no matter how little he gave, you would cling on to it for dear life, you would pretend a drop of water was a fountain, and that it could sustain your thirst until the next drop came.

You didn’t stop until you hit the beach, that was deserted this time of night, and sat down on the warm, soft sand. You sighed, allowing yourself the kindness of respite, of crying it out without shame, without constraint, without being made to feel stupid for being soft. You felt so foolish, so used and yet somehow so useless, at the same time. You were deep in thought, so deep in your own sorrow, that felt like it was drowning you, keeping your head forcefully underwater until there was no more breath in your lungs, that you missed the steps tracking closer until a tall form was towering above you.

“Are you alright?”

You shot up and onto your feet, pried out of your anguished reverie and shaking from the scare of another person, at a time and place you thought you would have the safety of solitude. You immediately recognised the young man sitting across from you, the rhythmic bioluminescent waves shining over his face, making him glow with ethereal beauty unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. It was hard not to know who he was, as him and his family have been the talk of the village for a while now, the buzz surrounding their arrival constant and unending. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan, the son of Jake Sully, the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya and the Sixth ever Toruk Makto. Everybody knew his story, everybody admired him, for his valiant win over the demons that took so much from the Na’vi and from the Planet. Now there he was, in your village, with his whole family, asking for Uturu, asking for a new chance, asking to be trained in the Metkayina ways.

Neteyam Sully was a beautiful man. Tall and muscular, his body was a deep shade of blue, so unlike your own, so unlike anything you’ve ever known. His stripes were even darker, an intense indigo that reminded you of the night sky, of the sea during a heavy storm, and the contrast was hypnotising, so hypnotising, in fact, you couldn’t stop the booming in your heart or the way you were shamelessly staring at his arms and chest. His hand went to your chin, and he brought your face upwards to get you to look in his eyes. You swore your breath stopped when he touched you, all of your 18 years of breath practice and your phenomenal control right out the window. His eyes were bright like the stars in the night sky, which might as well have been dull and pointless when compared to the freckles on his face, that shone brilliantly and moved upwards as his lips lifted in a soft smile.

“Can you hear me?”

You shook your head lightly, trying to push the thoughts out of your head and bring the sane ones back in.

“Y-yes, I can. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I just wanted to make sure you are alright. You seemed… upset.”

His hand didn’t drop from you chin, and his lingering touch sent shivers down your back that reached the tips of your fingers and toes before dissipating and being replaced with new ones, electrifying your entire being.

This was wrong. You were promised to another man. To the future Olo’eyktan. You had no business getting shivers down your spine, no business getting lost in his eyes, no business feeling feelings you have never felt before, not with Ao’nung, not with anybody else. You took a step back and watched and his hand fell from your face limply besides his body.

“I’m alright. Thank you for checking, you are very kind. I should probably go now. It’s late.”

You didn’t look behind you as you passed him and headed hurriedly back towards the village, hoping this way you could outrun him, the emotions he evoked in you, the shame that followed and the guilt that you knew was lurking menacingly in the shadows.

“I’m sorry for being such a dick. Forgive me?”

The shell he was holding out in his palms was gorgeous, everything you liked about the world and the sea wrapped in a tiny, magical package. He knew what you liked, he knew you very well, a thought that made you despondent. If he knew you, that means he knew what he was doing to you. He knew the feelings that plagued you, feelings that he brought upon you, that his actions brought upon you, and he still did them - unapologetically, at least until the last second, when he came asking for forgiveness, which you granted every time. He raised an index finger to your chin and lifted your head and you couldn’t help the booming in your ears when the action reminded you of the Omatikaya boy and the night you’ve pointlessly tried your best to forget about the past couple of weeks.

As your lips touched, a messy, sloppy kiss, filled with intention and need, you felt your heart drop to your stomach as not even this kiss, passionate as it was, invoked a fraction of the same reaction in your body as Neteyam’s one touch. Still, you loved Ao’nung. You always have. You were to be a mated pair soon. You were to be together…forever. He moaned as he deepened the kiss and you smiled at knowing, despite everything, it was you who made him feel this way. He might be acting out now, but he loved you, he wanted you. And one day, he’ll love you enough to show you in more ways than just the one.

“I still have to teach the Omatikaya, how about you come with me?”

“NO!”

Ao’nung looked at you curiously and tried to understand where this reaction was coming from. You knew you exaggerated and had to calm yourself if you were to not raise any suspicion. Not that there was anything to raise, you didn’t do anything wrong. And yet still, you couldn’t stop the nagging feeling, the lingering thought that you had to lie, that what happened had to stay between you and the eldest Sully.

“I’d rather not, I have other things to do around the village anyway.”

Ao’nung scoffed and rolled his eyes irately.

“You know, you keep saying we never spend time together, but then you pull this shit. I’m busy, you know? I can’t always entertain you whenever you want.”

You felt the all-too-familiar sinking feeling take over your mind again, just like the tears that formed almost instantly at his words, threatening you, praying for one moment of weakness so they’d fall and make a mess out of you again.

“Ao’nung… I come most times you ask. Every time you ask, in fact, which is very rarely. I just can’t right now. I’ll wait for you to come by my marui tonight. My parents aren’t home.”

Why did you do that? Why did you ask him to come? He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve you. You made a promise, though. To the clan, to the Tsa’hik and Olo’eyktan. To him. It was an unbreakable promise, a sacred bond. You were mere weeks away from completing your Iknimaya, short time away from giving yourself to him, allowing him to do to you what you knew was the ultimate form of intimacy, what you’ve wondered about for years, what you’ve been craving for the last few weeks.

You walked on the beach, the same beach, a beach most Metkayina didn’t come to, as it was out of the way and filled with big rocks and greenery that took away from the beauty of it all and the usual uninterrupted patch golden sand which people liked to lie on, to feel, as it grazed their sea-green skin. You hoped the walk would clear your mind, a hope that quickly vanished from sight as a certain cerulean Na’vi tapped you gently on the shoulder, making you jump out of your skin. He laughed softly, his sharp, pronounced canines coming swiftly into view, and you felt a sudden urge to touch them, to see if they were indeed as sharp as they looked. Could they draw blood? Could they pierce your skin easily, as they grazed over you, over your neck, over your -

“Sorry I scared you. I was hoping I’d run into you again.”

“I…” you took a deep breath in a futile effort to calm your nerves. “I thought you were training with Ao’nung.”

He eyed you intently, his gaze trailing over your face and landing on your lips. You opened them slightly to accommodate the deeper breaths you felt the need to take, like your body needed an increase in its oxygen intake to keep up with the intensity of his presence.

“I was, but my dad needed me for something. I’m on my way there now.”

Your hand felt like it caught on fire as his fingers wrapped around it, lifting it up in front of you until your palm was facing upwards and he dropped a bracelet in it, closing your hand with a touch of his hand and letting you go.

“You lost this, that night on the beach? I have been meaning to give it back to you, but you have a way of eluding me, it seems.”

You opened your hand again and inspected the item that was now residing in it. It was a bracelet you got as a gift when you were much younger, when your mateship with Ao’nung was first announced. Your shoulders dropped at its sight. It was pretty, and ornate, and a bitter reminder of what was beautiful and has now soured through time, like fruit left outside on a hot day.

“Thank you. I appreciate you finding it for me. It’s very precious to me.”

He chuckled a little, unable to keep the sarcasm from coating his tongue.

“Is it? It’s been weeks since you’ve lost it, and the way you reacted makes me think you didn’t even realise it was gone.”

You took a step back at his words and felt your ears flattening in response. Your dour expression must have taken him by surprise, just like his words did you, because he took a step towards you and spoke.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to infer. You know better than me what this means to you. It was rude of me, and I apologise.”

You couldn’t help staring at him once more, wide-eyed and bushy tailed, unable to understand the words that were coming out of his mouth. He… apologised? He said something untoward and he just… apologised? You don’t think this has ever happened to you. You didn’t think that was possible, not to you, at least. Other girls, your friends, had mates like that, had relationships that were… well, happy. They were happy, and filled with love and lust and passion, with sleepless nights and midnight swims, with lingering touches and anticipating gazes, filled with feelings of flickering flames and wondrous woes, filled with so many things you’ve never felt before, with all the things you were feeling right in this second.

“So you are Ao’nung’s mate?”

Why was he asking you this? Why now?

“Mate-to-be.” You whispered, knowing that if your voice was any louder, it would be shaky and breathy.

He nodded to himself, looking deep in thought as his eyes darted to your much smaller body and then over in the distance, at the waves crashing on the beach.

“Why are you asking, Neteyam?”

His step faltered a little as you said his name, but he regained his composure almost immediately, falling back into step with you, as if it never happened. His face gave little away, although his tail was moving behind you furiously, running up and down the back of your thighs in their haphazard motion. You felt heat pool in the pits of your abdomen at the quick brush of the soft appendix, that you tried to will away to no avail.

“Take care of yourself. I should go train with your mate.”

And just like that he left, leaving you to deal with your chagrinned heart and leering mind, all on your own.

He didn’t show. Once more, you waited for hours in your tent, until way past eclipse, and your mate didn’t show. You were crying in your hammock, trying to undo the hurt in your heart, hoping that if you cry hard enough it will just escape through your tears duct and be gone from your body once and for all. You were playing with the bracelet he gave you so long ago, cursing it and cursing him for the years of hurt and pain, the years of broken promises and shattered expectations, and with newfound determination, you dropped it on the floor and left for your beach.

You were a little surprised when you found Neteyam sitting peacefully on the beach, looking into the darkness that enveloped the sea for the night, only the glimmer of the bioluminescent plankton being hit by the soft waves visible. You swallowed audibly, and made your way to this man you had some sort of unspoken connection to, trying to ignore the way your heart thumped in your chest at the mere sight of him.

His ears twitched as he made out your presence, but he didn’t made any effort to acknowledge it otherwise.

“He didn’t show, did he?”

“H-how did you…?”

“I overheard you. In the morning.” He got up and turned around to face you, a fervid look on his face that made your legs quiver and push together to accommodate the feeling growing in between your thighs.

“Why were you so adamant about not coming training with us?”

“I was… busy.”

His body got closer to you, closer and closer, regardless of how many steps back you were taking, regardless of the fact that you made every effort to get away from his presence that overwhelmed your every sense, clouded your every critical thought and replaced it with a blabbering mess of heightened emotion and need. You gasped loudly when your back hit the trunk of a tree and you realised there was nowhere to go anymore. No place to hide, nothing to do but deal with it, with him.

“You’re lying. Don’t lie to me.”

His beautiful aureate eyes were fixed on your face, an ardent, hungry look haunting them, haunting you. Your knees were weak and wobbly, cowering under the weight of his presence, under the weight of the lust washing over you. His hands raised to your face, and the rough calloused feel of his fingertips made you pant, made you fantasise about how they would feel against other parts of you that desperately craved attention.

What are you doing? This is wrong. This is so wrong.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

You knew as his face was closing in on yours that you were doomed, that you didn’t have it in you to stop him, that you didn’t want to stop him. You knew that this kiss would mark a point of no return, a path of illicit affairs and unspeakable secrets, and that nothing could ever take it back, but you didn’t care. You wanted to know what it felt like, to be wanted, to be owned, to feel special.

His lips were nothing like his hands, instead they felt feathery and soft, and he tasted sweet, like a ripened fruit or like a child’s laughter. The kiss was hungry and needy, like you were, and your lips were brushing over each other, devouring any ounce of sanity still left in you as his tongue trailed over your lips and into your mouth, and you welcomed him with your own, allowing yourself to taste him, allowing him to taste you, to explore you.

“I want you. I want you so badly, I want you to know what you do to me. I want to show you what you deserve.”

He broke the kiss to place new, wet ones along your jaw and down your neck, and your couldn’t help the moan that escaped you and the way your head threw back, chest heaving at the sensation, at his maddening words. His lips were roaming your body, licking and sucking and biting on every inch of your torso and abdomen, like he was uncovering uncharted territory and wanted to know every secret within it. He knelt in front of you as he reached your hips, and you found yourself using the very limited amount of critical thinking you still had to push his head away from where you knew he was headed, from where you desperately wanted him, from where you knew he couldn’t be.

“No. We can’t. This is wrong.”

“Yes. Yes, we can. You can, and you should. You should see what you’re missing out on by being promised to him. Let me show you how good it can be. How good I can make you feel.”

He tightened his hand around one of your thighs and plopped it on his shoulder and then wrapped his fingers in the waistband of your loincloth, untying it easily. You groaned as the breeze hit your now uncovered core and shut your eyes tightly when the sight made Neteyam let out a wild, throaty moan that made you feral.

“Look at that. You’re already ready for me. You’re dripping wet, that’s how badly you want this. How can something that feels this good ever be wrong?”

You were a hyperventilating mess as his face got so close to your folds, you could feel his warm breath on you. A kiss is all it took for you to melt under his touch, for all reason to leave your being, every memory of your promised mate erased from your mind, like he never existed. Like nothing ever existed outside of this man, outside of the feelings he evoked in you. He pushed his tongue inside of you and you pushed out unintelligible noises, that got louder the harder he thrusted in you, the more his lips moved fluidly and skilfully on you, sucking and biting until the pleasure was coiling inside of you like a spring ready to give out at any blow of the wind. His tongue was swiftly replaced with a finger, and the foreign sensation made you squeeze your legs together as you discovered it, as you revelled in it.

“You’re taking it so well, baby girl. So well. Think you can do one more finger?”

You had no words, no words could be formulated in your state, so you just nodded aggressively, bucking your hips against him and he chuckled.

“So needy. Needy for my fingers, huh?”

He didn’t wait for an answer as he retracted his middle finger and pushed it back in, adding the ring finger, until he reached a spot that made you scream out, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“That’s it, that’s the spot. Feel good? You like being fingered, you like my mouth on this needy cunt, huh?”

His words made you a mewling mess, and you felt the pressure in your core build up and you knew it was building up towards a release that would take everything out you, that would ruin you, just like he was ruining you.

“I can feel you squeezing my fingers. I want to see you come, I want to taste your cum on my tongue, baby girl. Come for me. Show me how good I make you feel.”

His tongue found his way back to your clit, licking and sucking while maintaining an unrelenting pace of his fingers and with little warning, your orgasm washed over you like a rogue wave in the middle of an ocean of pleasure, overtaking you, drowning you in him, in this feeling you never wanted to end.

He smirked as he got up and kissed you, and you loved the taste of yourself on him, loved it in all its unholy, nefarious, sinful glory. His thumb brushed your lips as he spoke.

“One day, you’re going to beg me to fuck you. And I’ll do it so well, you will never be able to get me out of your mind, never be able to touch yourself again without an image of my cock slipping in and out of you ingrained in your brain.”

He walked away without looking at you.

“Sleep well.”

pt. 2? maybe? maybe not?

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strikeaprose · 2 years

Text

Forever changed on a spiritual level by Lucius. He's just thotting and sketching across the seas with his neck scarf. He survived Jim's wrath and wound up thirsting in the end. Mans got slutshamed with a dash of homophobia by Blackbeard's first mate and just went "yeah that's my pirate polycule. want in, little man?" Fucking iconic.

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #lucius ofmd #ofmd spoiler

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violet-eng · 4 months

Text

You give Al haitham! a bj I NSFW Alhaitham x fem!render🔞

Summary: So.. Alhaitham is now the ActingSrand Sage, and you, as the great gf you arefind Alhaitham to give him a "prize"

Tw: -+18 content, MDNI, blowjob (m!receiving,outdoors sex, established relationship.Nsfw under the cut

MDNI

2k words

Cr: Ahriii (@ahriii7) on X bc gosh that's what I imagined.

The news of Alhaitham's appointment as Acting Grand Sage has crept into your ears as you walk through the marketplace, lost in your riotous thoughts about your latest expedition.....

You hurry out of the city, eager and ready, to the place where you and he usually meet briefly, where the grass is low, the dew of the flowers floats in the air, the sweet nectar of nature, all on the shore of a lake, your lake.You find Alhaitham leaning against the trunk of a tree, holding a book in his hands, flower petals dancing in the wind, landing on his ashen hair. You approach him, and he greets you with a hint of a smile. Only you are able to draw that intimate, empathetic look from his stoic face.

"Congratulations, Acting Grand Sage," you say, sitting down next to him, your hands on the grass, damp from the dew and the proximity of the lake.

Alhaitham looks at you, a cold look for the average observer, a grateful look at your appreciations and experiences. You discover his eyes by pushing aside the fine gray locks on his forehead, meeting his loving orbs with crimson sparkles amidst a turquoise sea. Your fingers trace a path down his cheek, his skin pale and smooth, warm to your touch, until you reach his lips, tasting the corner with your digits.

"I am proud of you," you whisper, this small intimate space, just for the two of you, deserves no more than a chaste whisper.

"The title is a mere formality," he counters, his voice in a whisper, equal to yours, his hand clasping yours, on his cheek.

"Humble," you add, settling on your knees, skirt gathered over your thighs, soft flesh exposed to the grass, bathed in natural nectar, "just the way I like you.

You straddle him, dropping your weight onto his hips. Alhaitham brings his hands to your hips, sliding them over your ass in subtle movements, pure instinct taking hold of him, this man so rational and studied before you. The air becomes heavy, the space between you a chasm between your growing lust. His eyes shine, absorbed in your figure, in the contours of your face and the curve of your lips. He wants to kiss you, he's dying to, he's wanted to since you sat next to him.Alhaitham takes your chin between his fingers, his fingertips running along the angle of your chin, tilting your head to get better access to your lips. He brings his mouth to yours in a chaste, sweet, almost shy kiss that grows in intensity as the seconds pass.

He catches your lower lip with a soft nibble that shows his thirst for you, for the sweet nectar your skin gives off when he touches you, when he kisses you as he's kissing you right now. Your hands find his shoulders, his sculpted muscles feigning support for your palms. One of your hands runs up the nape of his neck, finding the base of his hair, tangling the digits between his arranged curls, making inroads into the ashen jungle of his hair.You share a wet kiss, your tongues exploring each other's every nook and cranny. Desperation grows as your hips rub against his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. The equivalent response to your action, swift and rigid, is the erect phallus beneath your clothed center.

Alhaitham grunts hoarsely, a masculine sound, as he breaks the kiss and stares at the mess you have made between his legs. His gaze dances between your face and his erection, studying the branches of possible outcomes to the current situation.Sinking into his mental expertise, he doesn't notice that you have changed your position on him. With your knees and elbows on the grass, you pull his pants off, or try to.

"Y/n, not here," the sound his lips make is drowned out by the burning sensation that spreads through his legs. The fire of excitement spreads to his chest and forehead, beads of warm sweat overflowing his eyebrows.

"There's no one around," the murmur is subtle, your good manners replaced by your lust, your hands releasing the excited excerpt of him, growing in desire as he feels contact with the open air.The tip, thick and with pre-cum surrounding its outline, the base long and broad, a throbbing mess. That part that longs to be tasted, to be devoured by your lips and to furrow the smooth folds of your throat. Alhaitham can't stop an electric shock from running down his spine as the image of your face, distorted by the penetration of his cock into your mouth, assaults his mind, a vision built on memories, past encounters.you gather your hair into a bow, Alhaitham watching every minute change in your movements, studying your anatomy, the way you arch your back, your hands behind your head as your chest pushes forward toward him.

Your cleavage gives access to his curious eyes, which see the silhouette of your breasts through the fabric."Not a good idea," he insists, against his growing instincts, against the insidious desire that overshadows rationality.

"Let me spoil you a little," you murmur, and you perceive a purr from the back of his throat, a blissful indicator of his bubbling satisfaction, "I must reward you for such an effort, at your age the attainment of titles of such caliber is a feast".Alhaitham takes one last look around, making sure no one witnesses the mess you're making of him, even though he knows you won't be conducting the symphony for long. Giving in to his baser instincts, to the sensitive, hot anticipation that has built up between the two of you, Alhaitham nods his head in a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, as if to absolve himself of the indecency that is about to take place.

Alhaitham takes your chin between his fingers, his fingertips running along the angle of your chin, tilting your head to get better access to your lips. He brings his mouth to yours in a chaste, sweet, almost shy kiss that grows in intensity as the seconds pass. He catches your lower lip with a soft nibble that shows his thirst for you, for the sweet nectar your skin gives off when he touches you, when he kisses you as he's kissing you right now. Your hands find his shoulders, his sculpted muscles feigning support for your palms.

One of your hands runs up the nape of his neck, finding the base of his hair, tangling the digits between his arranged curls, making inroads into the ashen jungle of his hair.You share a wet kiss, your tongues exploring each other's every nook and cranny. Desperation grows as your hips rub against his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. The equivalent response to your action, swift and rigid, is the erect phallus beneath your clothed center. Alhaitham grunts hoarsely, a masculine sound, as he breaks the kiss and stares at the mess you have made between his legs. His gaze dances between your face and his erection, studying the branches of possible outcomes to the current situation.

Sinking into his mental expertise, he doesn't notice that you have changed your position on him. With your knees and elbows on the grass, you pull his pants off, or try to.

"There's no one around," the murmur is subtle, your good manners replaced by your lust, your hands releasing the excited excerpt of him, growing in desire as he feels contact with the open air.

The tip, thick and with pre-cum surrounding its outline, the base long and broad, a throbbing mess. That part that longs to be tasted, to be devoured by your lips and to furrow the smooth folds of your throat. Alhaitham can't stop an electric shock from running down his spine as the image of your face, distorted by the penetration of his cock into your mouth, assaults his mind, a vision built on memories, past encounters.you gather your hair into a bow, Alhaitham watching every minute change in your movements, studying your anatomy, the way you arch your back, your hands behind your head as your chest pushes forward toward him. Your cleavage gives access to his curious eyes, which see the silhouette of your breasts through the fabric.

"Not a good idea," he insists, against his growing instincts, against the insidious desire that overshadows rationality.

Alhaitham takes one last look around, making sure no one witnesses the mess you're making of him, even though he knows you won't be conducting the symphony for long. Giving in to his baser instincts, to the sensitive, hot anticipation that has built up between the two of you, Alhaitham nods his head in a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, as if to absolve himself of the indecency that is about to take place.

Your hands perfectly frame the vertices of his erection, blissful fingers smooth against his sensitive skin, your palms molding to the expanse of his flesh, valleys known and explored, familiarity providing the right atmosphere. A deep sigh escapes from the back of his throat, falling to his lips in growing fervor at the pleasurable sensation the gentle alternating motion of your hands elicits from him. Alhaitham's heartbeat, almost as audible as the subtle, trembling, choked moans that leap from his chest, penetrate his ears, the blood flow swirling in the innermost corners."Whew, baby~" he slurred the grainy words, remnants of composure in his voice, his throat eroding his musical compliment, his hips parting slightly from the floor in an attempt to get more friction on your velvety hands."Patience," you coo as your hands squeeze his extension sharply. Alhaithman's chin contracts in a spasm, a worldly grimace of how well your hands are working him, as his lips, parted in a perfect 'o', utter the most mellifluous sounds ever heard from him.

Alhaithman's moans are lost amidst the crash of the nearby waterfall against the rocks, beautifully deposited amidst rippling seaweed, the gasps, wide and low, emerging from deep within his chest, the heart tangled in an elixir of sensations and pains, so submitted to you, so exposed… not the way the Acting Grand Sage should behave, no….

For he has always been the living image of an ideal scholar. Inconsistencies torment him, logic and formality rob him of the ability to allow himself to enjoy this afternoon with you, your hands so skillfully igniting sparks in his legs and swelling his balls.With his head thrown back, Alhaitham gives in to the dark desires of his baser instincts, ignoring the paradigm of his title and position in the Academy.

And his reactions are so ingrained in you that you notice the change in his posture, the change in his breathing pattern, and the anxious hesitation of his hands. His fingers move like hooks, painful spasms in his joints, his silhouette indicates what he desires, what reaches deep to escape him.

With every groan, every throbbing and every exaltation, Alhatitham sheds his virtues, his famous stoicism, and submits to your touch, to your warm, fine caresses on his cock, which feels so painfully well cared for by your palms.His chest is abused by the frantic beating of his heart, by the way his lungs swell for air, shuddering gasps escape his lips as he feels your tongue wipe away the drops of pre-cum that drip like pearls from his cock.

The familiar bitter sweetness permeates your taste buds. Your name escapes his lips in a plea, a muffled moan following the last syllable of your name. The frenzy of desire to be devoured by your mouth dulls the last drop of dignity the scribe has left."So pretty," he flatters, trying to appeal to your kindness, to free him from the torment of your tongue. You smile over his expanse, the warmth of your breath on his sensitive skin sending shock waves up his throat, where he stifles any number of embarrassing sounds.Your lips finally make the move Grand Sage craves, parting perfectly in an 'o' to give him access to his big fat cock in your mouth. The breath of your gasps embrace his length as it slides over your tongue, the taste of his skin mingling with your saliva, the way your throat tightens as he advances inside you.

"I so needed your mouth, y/n," he murmurs, so low you can barely hear him, as subtle as he is dirty, his words like granite on his wet lips.Your tongue dances around his phallus, taking it into your mouth in an explosion of pleasure and the burning caresses of your palate rubbing against its pulsating surface. Alhaitham falls to the lowest of his instincts as he brings one of his hands to the nape of your neck, grabbing your hair in a fist and tangling it in his slender, long fingers to bring your head further down on his cock.

You feel the penetration down your throat, across the curve of your arch, down of your neck, the rings of your throat cavity scraping his length, the nausea coming and your watery eyes staring into his.

"So accommodating, my y/n, not even the Akasha has enough knowledge for someone to be able to do this as well as you," he expresses as he watches you from his position, the height giving him some authority over you, the imposing posture over your figure.

Your eyelashes flutter as pearls of tears hang from your eyes, your gaze blurry, raging ecstasy. You have completely lost control, for it is he who now takes the baton, fucking your throat as if his life depended on it. The flow of the waterfall is peaceful, as are the grunts Alhaitham's chest emits as your saliva bathes his cock and his throat contracts in delicate spasms."Fuck, how good your little mouth is," he gasps, hoarse and husky, the movements of his hand showing his frenzy and his thirst for you, the caresses of your tongue and the way your throat expands to receive him. The revolutions increase, decency is gone and the lack of rhythm means that he is about to cum.

"I'm going to empty my balls into your mouth," he announces, raising his hips to meet your chin, and from the impact a slimy melody is born, an erotic crash and an irregular frisson."Shit, y/n!" his expression is vulgar, the same way his face contorts as his orgasm floods your mouth and a rivulet of milk overflows your corners, your lips turning bright white."How beautiful," he mentions as his fingers lift your chin and caress the contours of your jaw. Your eyes meet his as you swallow his seed, earning a nod of approval from him.Alhaitham is a bit grotesque when it comes to social relations, his lack of tact and almost complete lack of empathy make him a purely rational subject, except when he is with you, when you sit next to him after adjusting his trousers and he gives you a warm smile, or when you rest your head on his shoulder and he lets out a pleasant sigh… and shows his affection towards you, especially when he wipes the remains of his cum from your lips, wanting to restore your respectable facade after the good blow job you gave him…

#genshin impact #al haitam x reader #al haitham #genshin smut #genshin kaveh #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #alhaitham #al haitham x reader #Al-haitham #al haithem #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #alhaitham genshin #alhaitham x you

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jinnie-ret · 6 months

Note

Hey can I request something like your heat stroke fic but instead Where reader takes care of Hyunjin when he gets it while she’s on vacation with him and the boys (and they’re dating ofc) he gets like rlly emotional n overwhelmed too and she’s just there for him 💖

too hot to handle

hyunjin x reader

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: heatstroke, vomiting

word count: 1.3k

summary: your boyfriend unexpectedly gets heatstroke after a day of fun at the beach on your holiday.

Hi! Hope you enjoyed this! If you did be sure to reblog and let me know if you'd like to be added to my taglist! :)

HYUNJIN'S MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Hwang Hyunjin was simply irresistible, and of course, you knew that. But as the 9 of you relaxed on the beach in the early morning, ready for a chill day, you couldn't help but thirst over him. He looked like something out of a dream. Wet, black hair slicked back from the ocean, as your gaze was fixed to him from your sun lounger, a book in hand.

"Come on, babe! Spend some time with me!" Hyunjin pleaded, shouting with his hands cupped over his mouth.

You jumped slightly, quietly giggling to yourself that you had been caught out, and because of the fact he was openly complaining in front of his members. He was sure to be subject to their teasing.

"I'm taking in the sun! Can't you wait, Jinnie?" you teased, stood up with your toes wiggling into the sand.

You saw his arms immediately flop down, but he was soon dive bombed into the ocean by who you think was Lee Know. It wouldn't surprise you, you've had to save your boyfriend from being cooked in an air fryer multiple times.

It wasn't until around half an hour later, a sun lounger was loudly dragged next to you, disturbing your peace as Hyunjin hovered next to you, hands over his hips.

"You left your poor boyfriend to drown," Hyunjin pouted.

"I told you baby, I was taking in the sun, you should try it," you nonchalantly said, putting on your shades as you relaxed.

"You just want me to stay here so you can admire me, don't you?" he teased, pushing his lounger right next to yours and stretching out, causing you to shut your eyes, even underneath your shades.

"Don't know what you're talking about," you squeaked, ignoring his nudging before he wrapped a wet arm across your middle. "Ew Hyunjin! You're wet!"

"Guys, this is a public beach," Jisung snickered as he walked past, causing the two of you to freeze before bursting into laughter.

"Just lay here with me, yeah?" you looked up at Hyunjin, who had wormed part of his body underneath yours just so that he could hold you.

"Of course baby," Hyunjin brushed back some of your hair before planting a kiss on your forehead, and the two of you fell asleep in the sun, just like that.

Later on in the day you were woken up for some food, Chan and Seungmin were in charge of the BBQ. And after you finally went into the sea, much to Hyunjin's excitement (this man literally chucked you in), you all headed back to the villa you were staying in.

"Hey, Y/N, keep an eye on Jinnie, he seems a bit off," Changbin let you know as he patted your shoulder, and you immediately worried.

"Okay, thank you Changbin!" you nodded thankfully, before speeding up to catch up with Hyunjin, tapping your key card and entering your room.

You analysed his movements carefully, watching as he winced from the feeling of his t-shirt peeling off of his sunburnt back. He slowly went into the bathroom, and you sat on the small sofa in your room, sighing, before you heard a small crash and a groan.

"Jinnie?! Baby?" you went to open the door but he locked it. Why would he lock it? It's just you.

"Mmm, baby," he whimpered, and you could hear him trying to stand up.

"Darling, unlock the door for me, yeah?" you tapped your foot anxiously, and felt a small bit of relief when the door opened, until you saw him curled up, hands clinging onto the toilet seat.

"Hyunjin?!" you wrapped an arm around him, feeling terrified at the state he was in.

"Baby, I, I feel, sick, so hot," he panted, small tears running down his face and he was shaking in your arms.

"Oh, Jinnie, it's ok, I've got you, ummmm," you panicked, not knowing what to do until you stood and started running some cold water over a cloth.

"I'm... Scared, feel dizzy," he cried, and as you pressed the cold cloth to his back, you ran your fingers through his hair trying to soothe him.

But really, you had no idea what you were doing.

"Baby, I'm just going to go for a sec, I'm gonna grab my phone, okay?" you winced as you told him, standing up slowly.

"No, no, don't, I can't," he whimpered, and you rubbed his back soothingly even more.

"Oh Jinnie, I'll be 2 seconds, literally, I promise you, okay?" you hushed him, as you dashed out and grabbed your device, immediately back by your boyfriend's side. "See, Jinnie, told you, I'm right here. Bet you didn't even notice me gone, huh?"

"No," he simply said, body swaying slightly even from where he was sat by the toilet, and you began to feel more concerned, his answers were becoming shorter.

You rang the first person you could think of to help in this situation. Chan.

"Chan? Can you come into our room? Please, Hyunjin isn't feeling well, I think he's caught the sun- oh!" you paused in your rambles as Hyunjin began to throw up. "You're okay babe, it's ok... Chan please help I don't know what to do!"

"Ok, love, ok Y/N I'm coming through now," Chan said gently yet speedily as he hung up and you could hear his footsteps rushing into your room.

"Please help, Chan, he's really hot and I don't know what to do," you finally let yourself panic as Chan was here to help now.

"It's fine, you've done a great job so far, yeah?" Chan nodded at you as he sat down on the bathroom floor on the other side of Hyunjin. "Jinnie? You done?"

Your boyfriend weakly nodded.

Any other time, you would have made the joke that the Red Lights duo are what is too hot to handle, but clearly it was the sun for Hyunjin that had done him in.

"Y/N, let's lay him down in bed," Chan gestured you to help walk Hyunjin to bed, and you laid him down above the duvet, Chan placing a cloth on his forehead as you sat next to him, leg nervously bopping up and down on the floor.

"I didn't know what to do, he'll be ok, right?" you bit your lip worriedly, and even though he was the one feeling unwell, you didn't miss the way Hyunjin lightly strokes his hand over you leg to comfort you.

"He will be, we'll just keep an eye on him for now in case he gets worse, but he's already doing better I think," Chan nodded at you, looking you in the eye to make sure you were listening to what he was saying.

Half an hour had passed, and Hyunjin was more talkative now, still feeling a bit weak and hot, but the nausea seemed to have passed.

"Thanks Hyung, you know what Y/N can be like," Hyunjin joked as Chan chuckled too.

"I can see you're already feeling better, let me know if you need anything else," Chan smiled, before leaving the two of you alone.

"You don't have to worry anymore baby," Hyunjin rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand.

"You know I always do," you kissed his hand that rested over yours. "Plus, I should be comforting you, not the other way around."

"You've already done that my love, come on, let's cuddle," Hyunjin offered a small smile, slowly moving his arm outwards to welcome you into his embrace.

"Don't be silly, you'll get too hot," you frowned, not wanting him to feel worse.

"You never turn down my cuddles, are you sure you're feeling okay, my dear?" he sighed, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Okay, forget what I said," you shuffled into his arms and traced patterns on his stomach.

"What are you drawing, baby?" Hyunjin fondly smiled after a second.

"A rose," you smiled innocently.

"It doesn't feel like a rose," he giggled.

"Well you're going to have to keep guessing then," you laughed, and you both spent the rest of the evening relaxing, where you'd occasionally damp the cloth again to keep Hyunjin's temperature down. It was a stressful day, but you were just happy and relieved he was feeling much better now.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Text

Put on Display

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, degradation, orgy (setting), throne sex, public sex, cockwarming, slight humiliation

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: My Daemon thirst came back full force. This was supposed to be just a blurb but... I got carried away. I'm not sorry.

You let your head fall against Daemon's shoulder, your moan lost in the endless sea of others just like it. The cold throne juxtaposed with his warm hands on your back, and further with his cock, hitting inside you with every bounce of your hips.

Sounds of people laughing, moaning, whimpering, crying out in pleasure and of skin slapping against skin were just background noise when you listened to him speak softly in your ear.

"To think you were so shy about this. You're a natural I must say. Am I really to believe that you were a priestess before we met? Innocent and pure? A far cry from the woman bouncing on my cock right now don't you think?" He smiled a cocky smile against your marked neck. "Oh I'm sorry, you're missing all the fun." He pumped his hips once, twice more before he lifted you up, turned you around and not even a second later slammed you back down on his hard cock. "You should have the best seat in the castle."

His throne or his cock? Probably both you concluded. You had both, he was giving you both.

Your head was swimming with pleasure as you took in the sight in the throne room. It was like an endless sea of sex, in positions you never even thought of but wanted to try if your twitching clit and wet pussy were any indication. There was a woman laid out on the table, a man thrusting into her with sheer force while another woman straddled her face and sucked two men at once, switching between their cocks, their moans muffled.

In another part, a man moaning, no whimpering as he came inside the woman on to top of him. A little farther was a woman rapidly fingering herself while swallowing a man's cock to the balls. And to the pillar next to the throne a woman was being held between two men, taking them both at once, one in her pussy and one in her ass, demanding them to fuck her harder.

"You like what you see? There's so much beauty in sin isn't there?" His mouth was like a trail of fire down your back, his hands gentle on your hips, fingers edging close to your clit, "Your pussy is so tight, it's getting ready to receive my cum."

"Another? My lord I... I can't. Too sensitive." You whimpered and thrashed on top of him, but he didn't stop. If anything your squirming only made him pound your pussy harder.

One shove and you were laying on the floor, Daemon on you like an animal in heat, pulling your hair back and grabbing your hip. "Up. Get up. I'm not done with you, not even close to being done you hear me? You rest when I let you, no sooner, until then do your job and take my cock like a proper whore."

When you became so used to him being so rough you couldn't exactly point out. Or when your pussy began to ask for more then your fingers in the dark.

"It seems like your body agrees with me. When I met you you were a priestess. Now the only thing you worship is my cock. You were always a slut weren't you?" His question sounded like an accusation more then anything, sinful, shameful, but true all the same. "Only took a proper cock to make you realize it."

"Yes." You admitted, wanting somewhere to run and hide.

"What was that? I don't think our guests heard you." Daemon yanked you back by your hair again and made you look out into the crowd, "Speak up. What are you?"

You bit your lower lip as your vision started to get blurry, the mass of people fuzzy, at some level you still knew of them, that they were watching you get absolutely railed, but you also wanted to obey Daemon's orders. "A whore who likes being fucked hard!" In the distance you heard a few murmurs and chuckles.

Unbothered by them you angled your hips upwards, your arms crossed under your head for support and clenched your cunt tight around Daemon's throbbing cock. "Very good. You're so compliant now. If I ordered you to spread your legs and to have every man here line up and fuck you until you forget yourself, would you do it?"

"No." You answered honestly and wholeheartedly.

"No?" He thrusted deep and hard, every thrust echoing around you, "And why not?"

"Because I only want your cock my Lord." Daemon's cock twitched at your words, his hold turning possessive rather then controlling. There was no need of that, you'd never dream of having another. Still it only served to flame the fire building up in your lower belly, threatening to explode at any moment.

His body pressed against yours, almost shielding you from view, "Then you will have me. Every morning and night." Those words were whispered only for your ears to hear. "I've trained you well. Just a few months with me and you've been reduced into nothing but a set of holes for me to fuck and come into." His breath catches in his lungs, his thrusts slowing down for a second before he finds it in himself to fuck you into the floor, "In a year you'll be completely addicted to my cock. Forget everything and everyone else, it'll just be you and me."

"Just you and me." You repeated, all sense leaving your mind when his shallow breaths tickled your ear, when his hand found yours on the cold floor and his cock hit inside you just how he knew you liked it. Three more pumps and you felt your orgasm hit, your cunt clenching and trembling, desperate to keep Daemon's cock in, "Please my Lord."

"What? Be clear. Be honest." The humor in his voice drove you mad. He found this amusing, you being on display like this, your while body shaking and flushed with heat, your voice barely there anymore.

"Give me your cum! Fill me with your thick seed!" You heard more chuckles, and a few grunts and moans that followed that plea.

A torrent of warm cum rushed inside your pussy, making you cry out in pleasure while Daemon grunted and growled and cursed loud for everyone to hear. They needed to know, they all needed to know that he was calming you, breeding you, marking you with his cum.

As you collapsed onto the floor and Daemon on top of you he kisses his praise against your back, against your neck, his hands running from your hips to your stomach, caressing it fondly and with so much care. "Amazing. You were amazing love. As expected of my future bride." His, you were his. From the moment he saw you he knew it.

Gods? No god would dare to try to take you from him. Not that you would want to go, you made that clear to everyone in this room. No one could compete with Daemon.

He picked you up and with a tiny grunt sat you in his lap while he took the throne. "Tired?" He whispered against your neck, pampering it with kisses.

"A little." You weren't sure if you could go for another round. He already fucked your pussy raw. Even keeping his cock perfectly still inside of you made you on the verge of an orgasm.

With your pussy constantly spasming around him he wasn't going soft anytime soon. "I suppose you earned a little rest. Let's sit back and enjoy the show shall we?"

"Yes, my Lord." You sighed back against him, melting into his arms which circled around your midriff. A part of you still thought it sinful, watching all these people indulge in untold pleasures so openly. But the part of you that Daemon helped set free couldn't help but agree that yes, there is beauty in such sin.

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