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#Drift Inn
spaciousreasoning · 19 days
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A Visit to the Pacific Coast
Saturday morning’s blood sugar was up a couple of points to 164. Since we planned to get on the road early for our fifth anniversary trip, we only managed the Spelling Bee with our coffee. We did the other brain games when we got home this evening.
The first place we stopped was Our Daily Bread in Veneta, just a dozen miles west of Eugene, for a nice breakfast. During a brief conversation with one of the employees, we were saddened to learn that the place had been broken into four times in the last three months. They are now contemplating puts bars over all the windows.
Then we continued to Florence on OR 126 and turned north on OR 101. Before leaving Florence entirely behind we stopped for a cold brew at Ocean Grinds, a nice local coffee shop.
Just about 13 miles north of Florence is the state park where the Heceta Head Lighthouse is located. The lighthouse, built in 1894, is midway up a 205-foot-tall headland. The 56-foot-tall lighthouse shines a beam visible for 21 nautical miles, making it the strongest light on the Oregon Coast.
The light is maintained by the Oregon Parks and Recreation Department, while the assistant lighthouse keepers’ house, halfway up the headland, is operated as a bed-and-breakfast inn. It is maintained by the U.S. Forest Service, and there were tents in place for a wedding that was taking place later in the day.
The interior of the lighthouse itself was open, but only the first floor. A few exhibits were located there and in an adjacent building, and there was also a gift shop on the corner of the keepers’ house grounds. We bought a magnet for our fridge, and a sticker for granddaughter Kathleen and a pin for sister Deborah.
We also walked a little bit along the beach where Nancy picked up a few small pieces of driftwood, since the traditional fifth anniversary present is “wood.”
Then it was on to Yachats, where we spent a couple of hours walking check out some of the town. According to Oregon Geographic Names, the name comes from the Siletz language and means “dark water at the foot of the mountain.” It was originally named Oceanview. It was renamed Yachats in 1917.
The “Gem of the Oregon coast” has an official population of about 1,000, but the Yachats area has been inhabited for at least 1,500 years. Today, tourism is the city’s main industry.
On the way to a park overlooking the ocean we passed by the Little Log Church, a historical museum displaying Yachats artifacts. The church, built in 1926, was designed in the shape of a cross. The museum is now owned by the city, and the exterior logs are all being replaced due to rot. We did not visit the museum. We will save that for a future trip to Yachats.
A little after 3 p.m. we went to The Drift Inn for an early dinner. It was recommended by a couple of friends, and we were pleased with the food and atmosphere of the popular place. Nancy and I both got cheeseburgers and fries. Nancy got a local IPA.
According to a couple of pages of history included in the menu, The Drift Inn was built in 1929, with wood brought down the beach from Toledo, another 30 miles north along the coast. The bar “shut down” and became an ice cream parlor during prohibition, with a dance hall, drinking and card playing upstairs.
The Yachats Covered Bridge is about nine miles outside of town. Built in 1938 over the north fork of the Yachats River it was renovated in 1989 after an accident caused serious damage. At 42 feet long, the bridge is one of the shortest in Oregon and it is one of only two covered bridges in Lincoln County open to vehicular traffic. The bridge was on our list of things to see, but that will wait until our next visit to the area.
On the way back home, we drove up to see the Cape Perpetua Overlook. Cape Perpetua is a large forested headland projecting into the Pacific Ocean. The land is managed by the United States Forest Service as part of the Siuslaw National Forest. The cape was named by Captain James Cook on March 7, 1778, as he searched for the Pacific entrance to a Northwest Passage. Cook named the cape Perpetua because it was discovered on St. Perpetua’s Day.
At its highest point, Cape Perpetua rises to more than 800 feet above sea level. From its crest, you can see 70 miles of Oregon coastline and as far as 37 miles out to sea on a clear day. Unfortunately, by the time we reached the top, fog had enveloped us and we could see no more than a few yards from the viewpoint. We could still hear the waves crashing on the shore below.
We finally arrived home a little before 7 p.m., and shortly afterwards I took off for another walk around the neighborhood that went for two miles. Once home, we finished the evening with an episode of “Midsomer Murders.”
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red-velvet-0w0 · 2 months
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Erins list of media recomendations
Are you bored and looking for a new show to get into?
Did you follow me for one specific fandom and now have no idea what 90% of my posts are about?
Well look no further!
here is a list of a bunch of really cool media (of various genres/mediums) that I love and you might love too! (these are mostly going to be smaller fandoms/media that i dont think gets the attention they deserve):
Hello From the Hallowoods (podcast): My beloved! if you are a fan of Malevolent or TMA, and want other queer eye themed horror podcasts, this is my #1 recomendation. It is by far my favorite podcast of all time, and needs way more love then it gets. its currently still releasing episodes and is on its 4th season (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): a scattered group of survivors of an apocalypse known as "the black rains" fight to survive in a strange and magical forest, as an all seeing god watches from afar)
Witherburn After School News (podcast): Another great underappreciated queer podcast. its still releasing episodes and is currently still in its first season. Though there are supernatural elements, the story remains far more grounded and interested in the ordinary lives of the people. Gives a lot of the same vibes of season 1 TMA, but if instead of the statements being the focus, the characters were given the spotlight while the supernatural stories loomed in the background (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): a young reporter in a small town decides starts an afterschool radio show, where she discusses the goings on around town, and takes it upon herself to investigate the dissapearences of children that the police refuse to acknowledge)
Aurora Webcomic (webcomic): A webcomic made by OSP Red herself! the art and storytelling is phenomanal, and all of the characters are impecibaly written. it is currently in its second arc, and regularly releasing 3 pages a week. (also fun fact its where i got the name erin from) (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): a demigod must rescue his master from a god-stealing witch before she is able to use his soul to end all life on earth. along the way he meets up with a cast of colorful characters, each with their own quests, who decide to band together to save the world)
Nova Drift (video game): did you ever play that old Asteroids video game back in the day? did you ever wonder what it would be like if it was instead a fast paced bright neon roguelike where you massacred everybody who stood in your path with high tech machinery? well nova drift has you covered! its a ton of fun and increadibly addicting, with tons of complexity and endless replayability
Epithet Erased (indie cartoon): If wordplay was a series. it was created by the youtuber JelloApocalypse based off of a rpg campaign he played with friends. Though its artstyle is relatively simple due to its low budget, the limits put upon the animation allow it to find new and creative ways to tell its story. (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): In a universe where people have words tied to their souls that grant them powers, 6 people must battle it out in a museum for control over an ancient artifact)
The Wandering Inn (web fiction): another one of the reasons I go by Erin! though I honestly really need to catch up with it, I highly recomend the wandering inn if youre interested in more long-form stories. It is currently on volume 10 (i think im not sure) and each volume is longer then the last. If youre a fan of storys with hundreds of characters and shifting viewpoints youll love it. otherwise you should run in fear because you will not be able to remember half of the characters by volume 2. (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): A chess prodigy from earth named Erin Solstice suddenly finds herself transported into an RPG style fantasy world with magic, classes, and levels. to survive, she decides to become a bartender)
Bigtop Burger (indie cartoon): If youre a fan of absurdist comedies, this is the show for you. Its made by the youtuber Worthikids and just finished its second season. its incredibly short and can be binged in its entirety in just over half an hour. (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): a clown themed food truck attempt to sell burgers, while fighting with their rival food truck, and slowly realizing that their boss is not who they thought he was)
Kid Vampire (indie cartoon): much like Bigtop, KV is a simple and charming show with not much more going on. if your looking for some fun fluffy stories about some kids having fun, id recomend it, but if your looking for something more serious you might want to look elsewhere. Its made by the youtuber Mummy Joe, and is actively releasing episodes. (slightly spoilery pitch (if you dont like spoilers look away): a vampire child named Kid Vampire is sent to go to school with humans to kill them and steal their blood, but ends up making some new friends instead.)
Those are nowhere near all of my favorites, but id highly recomend you check at least 1 out! I adore all of these and if I can get even 1 more person to become a fan, ill consider that a win!
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i hope they do an acoustic kid 2. this shit is so fire. i already have a dream lineup i need it SO bad idc how long i have to wait
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lovegasmic · 2 months
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✖ PUBLIC POOL, FORBIDDEN TO HAVE SEX
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𖥔  ──── mdni. lifeguard Gojo Satoru x f!reader. coworkers to lovers, lots of flirting and touching, doggy, protected sex, sloppy making out. you don't have sex inside the pool, i have a taglist now :3
my piece for @interstellar-inn HELP WANTED collab‹3
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the decision was quite easy, start a new summer job in a burning hot small space such as your uni library, with a lack of air conditioner and many sweaty students, or, a job at the local pool.
you choose the latter.
Shoko had a friend who could squeeze you in the spot, she had many friends, and you were not going to complain. the uniform shorts were loose and allowed your skin to breathe in the scorching heat, and the one piece swimsuit top let the breeze cool you off.
a very much needed and welcome uniform to both, prevent you from overheating from the weather, and your stupidly hot coworker.
Satoru Gojo, was his name, the one who greeted you with a toothy grin and hands way too big to cover yours whole, he was Shoko’s friend and the one who squeezed you in the position, although now you wished he could squeeze something else in your tight needy body.
it was strange how a man could make you forget about the sun and focus solely on the warmth pooling in your lower belly.
“if you need anything, you know where to find me” he smirks and drops a little wink your way from where he leaned down to peek at you above rounded sunglasses. you were certain he was someone easy to find, those tight shorts around thick thighs muscles and slicked back white silvery hair was easy to lose from sight.
a pretty easy and comfortable job, the pool was not too big so there was you, Satoru and another guy called Choso, you did not expect your biggest challenge was to avoid staring like a creep at those abs.
except, it was not easy at all, Satoru was subtly all over you, stretching that muscular and toned body on a pool chair while smirking at you, engaging in small talk that only made your thoughts drift in multiple directions, mostly, to the bulge on the white haired’s shorts, he was soft, and you needed to see it hard.
you could blame the sun for the heat on your face, and the sticky sweat that made you squirm, it truly was not the sweet slick pooling on the crotch of your swimsuit.
was Satoru aware? definitely. yet you had no idea, unaware of his lingering gazes and lip bite at the sight of you bending over to pass a fallen towel to the little kids taking a dip, blue eyes staring down at your ass from above his sunglasses, making Choso roll his eyes.
his hands often lingered on your waist when walking past you, a subtle smile and friendly squeeze on your hip, accompanied by multiple praises when you did a good job, almost cooing you so sweetly.
friday finally arrived, and with it, a weekly pool cleaning. “you can go home, pal, we’ll take care of the cleaning” Satoru pats Choso’s back, who raises a brow and hums in disbelief, and mostly... disgust.
the dark haired does not complain, grabbing his bag and making his way out, not without a slight shiver.
too busy struggling to wrap a large hose to clean the pool to notice Satoru looming over you, “let me get that for you” isn’t he such a gentleman?
“ah, thank you, I'll grab the leafs rakes” is what you say back, managing to conceal your emotions a bit better, and pushing the fact that you both were alone aside.
it was clear Satoru’s been doing this for a while, catching leafs and brushing the slightly slippery stone edge with expertise, “that should be all, now we need to wait the pool fills again” his words are low, gently cupping your elbow, “why don’t we go inside and get a break?” oh, there’s the slickness again.
a nod is what you do, allowing him to guide you inside the break room where a lounge chair was propped against the wall, shelves with cleaning tools and chemicals on the adjacent wall, “i’ll order this in the meanwhile” you mutter, doing everything to stop the nasty thoughts fueling your brain.
“you’re such a hard worker” Satoru coos again, and you jolt, not realizing the moment he walked right behind you, hands on your waist and lips brushing the shell of your ear, “why don’t you relax a little, sweetheart?”
words die in your throat, intoxicated by his scent, his breathing against the burning skin of your neck, “i can help you...” it’s a brief whisper, followed by a tiny kiss and his thumb rubbing on the skin of your abdomen.
suddenly your knees grow weak, a whine punched out due to the soft kiss, “that’s a good girl, you’re so receptive” another praise, another gushing wave of slick pouring out of your needy pussy.
the power this man held over you was insane, mixed with the lingering need you’ve tried to conceal through the week, turned you into putty on his hands, barely raising your hips to help Satoru tug your shorts down, his whole body falling with it, tracing kisses down your spine, your ass and thighs, only to slide a thumb under the crotch of your swimsuit and lick a fat strip from your clit to your soaked hole, “fucking delicious, baby”
“g-ah, Satoru... i need you” your hands clench on the shelf in front of you, hips weakly bucking back against his face.
“i need you too, baby, so bad” his lips are on your neck again, using a hand to push your abdomen back so your soft ass is pressed on his bulging cock through the swimming shorts, “are you going to let me fuck your pretty pussy, hm?”
“please..., fuck my pussy”
a groan rumbles from his chest and through your back, “that’s a good girl” and through the hazy lust cloud, you hear his shorts quickly tossed on the ground, followed by his hand reaching the back of the shelf and tugging out a condom, “i’ve had them there ever since you arrived” he mutters slightly apologetic at your raised brow.
another kiss is pressed on your neck, muffling a groan at the sensation of the condom sliding down his rock hard cock, giving it a few pumps before tugging your hips back, messily collecting slick from your hole to smear it across your folds, staining a bit the hem of your swimsuit that’s tucked aside.
“what a pretty pussy, baby, i’m going to make you scream” his teasing continues, groping the soft flesh of your butt while mercilessly sliding the fat tip up and down your slit, occasionally dipping inside just barely to watch how your soft lips spread to greet him.
a weak protest whimper escapes you, “don’t tease...” he’s so mean, making you beg for his cock like desperate, “just put it in”
Satoru snickers, pressing his chest on your back, hands sliding under the opening of the swimsuit arms to cup your tits, “whatever you want, baby” and gently pushes in, groaning onto your ear at the warm and tight squeeze of your cunt around his erection, pushing and pushing until his balls pulse against your tender clit.
“fuuck, so good...” he grunts, fingers tightening around your nipples while starting to fuck into you, not wasting time in pounding your sweet pussy, only the sound of your mewls and gushing hole sucking on his cock resonating through the small space.
“ah... ah, S’toruuu...!” you squeak, eyes half closed and head hanging low, the burning on your belly subsiding with each thrust, with each knock of his bulbous tip against your g-spot, as if he was made just to satiate your thirst, “s’ deep, too deep” another squeak, struggling to keep upright with how Satoru forced your back to arch, pounding deeper into your needy hole.
“take it, love, you can fuckin’ take this cock” he grunts and grinds his teeth, maintaining the composure and not blow his load within seconds of fucking, “it was made for you, just for you, hngh, fuck!”
a few tears fall from the pleasure, dripping down the floor like the mess of slick your cunt produces, making the concrete slippery, disgustingly sexy.
his hand is on your hair, tugging you back strangely sweetly compared to his rough thrusting, then his tongue is in your mouth, forcing it open while yours join merely seconds later, you feel a sob bubbling up your chest with how lewd everything is, with the sound of your tongues dueling, saliva dripping past your mouths and the sound of your soft ass being roughly smacked against his pelvis, not to mention the squelch of your greedy pussy sucking on Satoru’s cock.
“i’m cumming, pretty girl” he barely mutters through the attempt of a kiss, eyes half open staring at your messy expression, “you’ll be a good girl and cum with me, won’t you?” all he gets from you is a positive mewl, too fucked to speak but not to stop your tongue from swirling around his.
in return, Satoru smirks, adoring how needy and clingy you became, doubling his efforts at fucking your tender pussy and rubbing your clit through an orgasm, having your eyes crossed, tongue out and pussy gushing all over with your delicious and sticky slick, “so gorgeous when you cum” he praises, merely seconds after exploding inside the condom, a fucking waste if you ask him, but at least he came inside your pliant body, groaning in approval at the way your sensitive walls pulsed and milked all his release, sucking and begging to be filled next time.
“my beautiful girl, you’ll be my little cleaning helper from now on”
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cake-writes · 3 months
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Whoops
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Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader
Warnings: smut, sex pollen, consensual somnophilia, substances, oral sex + rimming (female receiving), vaginal fingering, anal fingering + anal sex (female receiving), rough sex, playful sex, unprotected sex, edging, spanking, creampie, soft!dom!kakashi, this fic had no right being so fucking filthy, 'honey' used one (1) time as a pet name, safe word mention, so! much! banter!!!
Word Count: 5.4k
Summary: When you and Kakashi both forget to bring along something important on a mission, the two of you have to fight the effects of an aphrodisiac without.
You and Kakashi sit side-by-side on the sofa, staring down at the single white pill atop the coffee table of your inn room. His thigh presses against yours, allowing you to feel the heat radiating off of him—which is certainly, well, something, because your own body also feels way too hot. Stupidly hot.
“How could you forget to pack more detox pills?” Kakashi asks, looking over at you in mild disbelief. His cheeks appear rosy where they peek out above his mask, but you know it’s not so much from embarrassment as it is from the poison you’d both been hit by some hours ago.  
You shoot him a half-hearted glare. “How could you forget to pack condoms?”
Your first aid kit really should have had more pills in it than just the one, but you can’t remember the last time you did an inventory. And Kakashi, by regulation, should have had condoms in his bag in the event of a situation like this. Maybe he’d forgotten to double check his reserves, same as you. Whoops. 
The two of you would have been dosed just before dinner. That’s the only time an enemy trap had sprung, but there hadn’t been much of an effect until the middle of the night, long after the shops had closed and you’d settled in for sleep. At the time, you'd both assumed that it was just a bit of dust from the trap's explosion. Whoops, again.
With a weary sigh, your mission partner leans back against the couch, loosely crossing his arms over his chest in a deceivingly relaxed manner. “You take it,” Kakashi says, his uncovered eye drifting down your body before it flicks back up to yours. “You seem to have been hit harder than I was. I should be able to manage on my own.”
You swallow thickly at the mental imagery his words bring on. He’ll have to rub one out. More than one, most likely. “We should cut it in half. You’re still—”
“No. You’re smaller than I am, and you’re dealing with a stronger dose.”
He’s right. You can feel the sweat beading on your forehead, feel the warmth of a flush slowly creeping up your neck and onto your face, feel your skin burning for attention. Kakashi really is quite attractive—you’ve always thought so—and with the aphrodisiac coursing through your veins, your attraction to him has been cranked up to eleven. 
Fuck, your pussy aches, and only he can fill it the way that you need.
“Now take the pill before it gets any worse,” he tells you flatly. “That’s an order.”
“Ugh, fine.” Annoyed that Kakashi would seriously pull rank on you in this situation, you grab the pill and pop it into your mouth, before you chase it with a glass of water. Then you frown at him. “If you can’t manage, let me know. I’ll help.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“I mean it, Kakashi. Without a condom, we may not be able to, you know,” you jokingly make a rude gesture indicating sex, “but I know how shitty it can be to try and get through this on your own. If you need my help, let me know. Okay?”
If he’d brought condoms, he’d probably already be inside you right now. God, you feel so fucking empty.
“Okay,” Kakashi agrees, unfazed by the suggestion. The two of you are shinobi first, and people second. Your bodies are tools to be used in service of your village. You know that he knows that, same as you do. It’s definitely not the first time either of you have encountered an aphrodisiac; you’re both too experienced in the field to have that sort of plausible deniability.
The biggest issue, however, is that if it gets worse during the night, then his life could actually be at risk. Aphrodisiacs are still poison, albeit more pleasant than the usual suspects.
Kakashi gets a pensive look about him, then. “The pill will probably knock you out, you know. What then?”
You grimace. Right. So much time has passed since you last needed to take one that you’d forgotten. Forcing rest helps the body to heal more quickly, or some such. It’s terribly inconvenient.
“Well…” There really isn’t another option. If his hand isn’t enough, your unconscious body will have to be, because you sure as hell aren’t waking up to a dead teammate tomorrow. “You can use me,” you say finally, cursing your horny brain for actually enjoying the idea of it, of him using you for his pleasure while you’re asleep. “Take what you need, even if I’m knocked out. You have my permission. Just don’t hurt me, and don’t knock me up.”
A lick of heat comes into that dark grey eye of his, before he clears his throat and nods. “All right.” When he pulls himself to his feet, it’s impossible to miss the tent in his tac pants, though you make sure to keep your eyes above his waist out of respect for him. “Get some rest. I’ll try not to disturb you unless I have to.”
“Have fun,” you say sweetly, waggling your fingers in a wave as he heads back to his room.
Blearily, you wake to the sensation of fingers slicking through your folds.
The plush of your futon cushions your body, just as you remember upon going to sleep, though your yukata has since been pulled open at the front. The slight chill in the air brings goosebumps to the surface of your naked skin, bared to the night, and pebbles your nipples.
The poison seems to have worn off—of you, at least. You aren’t so stupidly hot anymore, but your tits and stomach do feel a bit sticky, a smattering of wetness cooling on your skin.
It’s cum, you vaguely realise. A lot of it.
Heat pools in your abdomen at the realisation that Kakashi used you—your nudity—for masturbation fodder. And now, he has your thighs splayed wide, allowing you to feel the heat of his breath against your soaked core while he spreads you open with his thumbs.
You should tell him that it’s okay. You should tell him that you don’t mind, that he can do whatever he needs to with you, but there’s something unbelievably sexy about him using you for his own enjoyment without you ever knowing. Then again, you’re still pretty out of it from the meds.
When his hot tongue slides up through your slit, a pleasured sound bubbles up from your throat before you can help it. He’s good with his mouth.
Kakashi chuckles against you, swirling his tongue over your clit until your hips jerk. “Finally awake?”
“M’sleepy,” you slur drowsily, rubbing at your eyes.
He hums in response, sluicing his fingers through your slick heat. You expect him to slide them into your aching core, but instead he moves a little lower, circling the rim of your ass with a fingertip. A glob of saliva joins it, before he coos, “I’m sorry for waking you. Is this okay?”
It’s been some time since you had anal, and the thought of it with him only makes you want it more. Maybe there is still some poison coursing through your veins. You’re too out of it for the pill to have fully done its job.
“Yeah,” you sigh, relaxing into his touch.
He flattens his tongue over your clit as he slowly eases his finger inside your tight hole. It’s a bit of a stretch, but you take it easily, moaning at the sensation.
“I know this isn’t ideal,” Kakashi murmurs against your heated flesh, sounding apologetic. “I would have loved to fuck you here,” he delves his tongue into your cunt for a moment, pulling a quiet gasp from you, before he drags it up to your clit again, “if I hadn’t already gotten off a few times. You’re so wet.”
It’s too risky for him to fuck your pussy with whatever semen might be lingering behind. He’s respecting your boundaries, but you’re sure he doesn’t want to take the chance, either.
“S’fine,” you answer sleepily. “Feels good.”
“If it hurts, tell me and I’ll stop, okay?”
“Mm. Okay.”
Time passes like a fever dream. You still feel foggy from the pill, and the pleasurable sensations that Kakashi bestows upon you only muddle your brain even further.
Soon your thighs are squeezing around his head, your fingers buried in soft, silvery hair as he edges you with his mouth for what must be the third time—or more, but you’re too out of it to really keep track. With each near-orgasm, he eases another finger inside, slowly but surely stretching out your tiny hole to take him.
When your body starts to quiver from pent-up release, he carefully withdraws his fingers from your ass and folds your thighs to your chest. Then, his tongue presses into your tight rim, tasting you directly.
The choked moan that rips out of you is nothing short of ungraceful. “K-Kashi,” you slur, cracking your eyes open to blearily meet his. “You don’t have to—mm!”
Kakashi gives you another long, savoury lick, holding eye contact the entire time to make his point, before he sits back up onto his knees and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re offering me your body,” he rasps, smoothing his hand along your calf where it rests on his shoulder. “The least I can do is make sure you enjoy it.”
Then he spits into his palm, messy and wet, and slicks up his cock with saliva. The action is so vulgar that your pussy clenches around nothing.
“Are you ready? I’m happy to prepare you more if you need it.”
“I’ll let you know if I’m not,” you answer breathily. It’s hard to see him in the darkness of your inn room, even if your body falls within the cascade of moonlight coming in through the window. You can still make out the shine of his eyes and the sharp, hard lines of his muscular form, but his face remains in shadow.
Damn it. You really want to see what he looks like under his mask.
“I’ll go slow,” he promises, and he does. Even though you can feel the heat coming off of his skin, and even though you can almost guarantee he’s just as horny as you’d been earlier, he takes it slow.
Kakashi has always had more self-restraint than you, even now.
His cock really is big, too—not bigger than you expected, but it’s definitely a stretch. He presses in carefully, not even an inch at a time, taking in every single one of your reactions to ensure that he doesn’t hurt you.
Your face screws up when the head pops in, locked inside by the tight squeeze of your body. “Fuck,” you choke out. “It’s big.”
He licks his thumb, before he brings it to your clit, rubbing soft circles over it to help ease you into the stretch. “Better?”
You make a soft, pleased noise in the back of your throat. It is better. It helps quite a bit, actually, by offering a distraction for when he slides in a bit further and you encounter a small amount of pain. Nothing severe; it just comes with the territory.
Even still, your hand flies down to jam against his thigh, keep him from going any deeper.
“It’s okay,” he says gently. “I’ll wait.”
And he does.
By the time he’s all the way inside, you’re practically panting like a dog because he feels so fucking good. Your empty cunt still aches to be filled, but the slow, beautiful glide as he pulls nearly all the way out of your other hole is a welcome alternative.
Kakashi adjusts your leg on his shoulder for a better grip. “Ready?”
You nod your head, peering up at him in the darkness.
Then he pushes back inside, all at once, and you both groan.
“I’m not gonna last long,” you gasp, and he lets out a laugh that sounds almost as winded as you feel.
“Neither am I.”
Kakashi treats you like glass in the way that he handles you, ensuring that it’s good for you, but there’s an undercurrent of need in his every movement, his every touch. You can feel it when his fingers dig firmly into the meat of your thigh; feel it in that slight loss of control every so often, when he thrusts hard, once, then reins it back in.
He’s prioritising your comfort, but he needs more.
“More,” you beg, because you need it, too.
He lowers your leg down and leans forward onto his hands, caging your body in between. The moonlight finally, finally reveals his face, and fuck, he just might be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Strong, angular features paired with soft lips and a beauty mark on his chin—he’s gorgeous.
“More?” Kakashi asks amusedly. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
He snaps his hips forward once, testing your resolve.
“Yes, I can fucking handle—”
But you don’t finish, because when Kakashi shifts back slightly to allow another glob of saliva to fall from his mouth and onto the place where the two of you are connected, something in your brain breaks at the sight. It’s filthy, messy, wet—absolutely nothing like what you’ve come to expect from your mission partner, reserved as he is.
Or not. He’s just as much of a freak as you are. He just hides it better. Kakashi ate your ass without a shred of hesitation, and the memory is such a turn-on that you wiggle your hips impatiently.
Another soft laugh leaves him at that. “Needy,” he teases so affectionately that your cheeks burn, but you barely notice because he’s already fucking into you again, slow but so unyieldingly firm in his thrusts that you can almost feel the impact in your throat.
Cursing something unintelligible, you grab at the futon above your head to brace yourself. It feels so mind-numbingly good that you swear you might be going insane—or maybe that’s because the haze from the meds still hasn’t fully cleared.
The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as Kakashi well and truly gives you more, just like you asked for. Every time he hits as deep as he can go, you feel another shred of his self-control slip until he shoves your thighs up next to your ears and leans forward to trap your knees in the crooks of his elbows.
Then he fucks you faster.
You can see the aphrodisiac plain as day on his face, in the beautiful flush that colours his cheeks and chest and the sweat that dots his brow. Some of his hair sticks to his forehead, and when his near-manic eyes lock onto yours, you’re held captive under his hungry gaze.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asks raggedly. The muscles in his arms tense and strain as he holds himself above you, pounding into you, and then his lips curl up to reveal the slight point of a canine. “Maa, I just might break you at this rate, you know?”
It’s almost impossible to think, let alone string a sentence together, but you do it somehow. Each word punches out of your lungs with another forceful thrust. “Break me, then,” you demand, sounding breathless.
A dark note of desire comes into his features, sharingan swirling just a tiny bit faster when you reach your hand between your legs to play with your clit. As if the sensation wasn’t enough already, the sight of him looking so debauched could easily do you in.
And it would, too, if Kakashi didn’t bat your hand away. He drops down onto an elbow to change the angle, and although his cum smears wet between your bodies, neither of you notice because he plunges two fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt.
“You want me to break you, honey?” he asks, voice low, and a choked sort of wheeze rips out of you as he roughly crooks his fingers up into your g-spot. “All right. I’ll break you. Would you like that?”
Scratch that, he might be even more of a freak than you are, and you fucking love it. “Yes!”
Kakashi doesn’t pump his fingers in and out; instead, he uses them to bully your g-spot exclusively, dragging his thumb over your clit with every brutal snap of his hips. Your eyes roll back at the combined sensation, the overwhelm of it all, and you can’t even manage to get another word out—just an embarrassing mix of gasps and whines.
“Oh, look at you,” he sighs appreciatively. “Are you close?”
Your cunt flutters around his fingers as if to answer the question, and he lets out a knowing hum. Then, right before you crest, Kakashi pulls out of your ass and drops down to devour your pussy with an urgency that makes your toes curl.
“Shit,” you squeal, your body writhing under his sudden onslaught.
He rapidly pumps his fingers in and out, hooking them into your g-spot again and again, the wet, sloppy sound of you echoing throughout the room as he finger-fucks you into oblivion, all the while sucking on your clit until you can’t handle it anymore.
“M’gonna—fuck,” you swear, pulling at his hair. Your eyebrows scrunch together as you look down at him, admiring the sight of him, the way he’s focused so intently on your pleasure even as you grind your pussy into his mouth. “Yes, yes—”
The intensity in his eyes when they snap up to meet yours is what finally sends you over.
You shatter apart with distinctly wet gush that soaks your futon straight through to the tatami, but before you’re even finished convulsing, he’s already on top of you again, sliding right back into your poor, abused asshole until he bottoms out.
You choke. The size of him is even more noticeable after your orgasm, especially with the aftershocks still rippling through your body, but it feels good. Mostly.
He pauses, a flicker of softness in his expression. “Too much?”
“Never,” you say, offering what you intend to be a cocky smirk, even though you can barely keep your eyes open.  
His brows raise in surprise, just for a split-second, before he laughs softly and starts to ease in and out of you in slow, patient strokes, giving you a chance to adjust in spite of your bravado. “It’s a shame we didn’t do this sooner,” he comments, tone teasing. “We could have had a lot more fun on all those courier missions last year.”
You snort. “Don’t forget those awful recon missions in the snow.”
“Would have been a great way to keep warm,” he jokes, before his gaze trails over your face for a prolonged moment. “Better?”
You offer him a grateful smile, before you lick your lips, relishing in how his focus drops to your mouth for the briefest of moments. “Yeah. Now fuck me like you mean it, Hatake.”
“Oh?” Kakashi tilts his head in his familiar way—just like when he’s about to knock you on your ass in a sparring match. “You don’t think I meant it before?”
“No,” you answer snootily, because you’re a glutton for punishment.
“I see, I see,” he hums. “My mistake.”
In one fell swoop, you’re flat on your stomach, your face buried in the plush futon; and then he’s spreading your cheeks, spitting crudely onto your hole, and hiking your ass up higher with his grip on your hips.
“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, your cheek mashing into the sheets as he shoves his cock deep inside your stretched-out channel, deeper than he’d been previously.
All sense of softness is gone, now, replaced by a brutality that makes your eyes cross. Kakashi fucks into you hard, relentless in his pursuit to break you just like you wanted, and you love every second of it.
“What do you think, hm? Do I mean it now?” Kakashi asks lightly, after which one hand claps down on your ass when you struggle to piece together an answer. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes,” you croak out, drooling onto the sheets.
“Hm?” Another spank, harder this time, and you hiss in pain. “I don’t think I heard you.”
“Yes!” Your voice cracks on the word, and when he slows down to check on you, you rush to add, desperation in your tone, “Green, fuck, don’t—”
His hand embeds itself in your hair, before he yanks you up, making your back arch almost to the point of discomfort. His other arm snakes around your front and between your breasts, his fingers wrapping loosely around your throat as he pulls your body flush against his chest.
“You even have safe words,” Kakashi murmurs into your ear, grinding his hips into yours. “Why the hell didn’t we do this sooner?”
God, he’s so fucking deep.
“Probably—hah—because we work together,” you say breathlessly, leaning your head back onto his shoulder, “and because Lady Fifth would kill us for fraternizing.”
His laughter puffs hot against the shell of your ear. “What a way to die.”
He releases your hair, and slides his hand between your legs in order to messily work your clit. Your thighs tremble and shake from the added stimulation, your moans only increasing in volume the longer it goes on.
Five seconds, maybe? Ten? You can’t be sure.
“God, I feel like I’m drunk,” you groan, your words still slurring just a little. Time doesn’t feel like a real construct right now; all you know is that Kakashi is the only thing grounding you, keeping you from drifting away with the midnight breeze.
“I’m sorry. I waited as long as I could for the pill to wear off.” Then he presses an apologetic kiss to your temple, and a warm, happy shiver ricochets through you thanks to the affection behind it. “Do you want to stop? I should be able to manage from here.”
“No,” you breathe. “S’fun, just a little out of it.”
“Still want me to break you?”
You shake your head. “I’m getting sore.”
“All right.” He releases you, then, and carefully withdraws. “Lay on your back again. I’ll try to be quick.”
You do as he instructs, shifting onto your back with your legs spread. As you watch Kakashi smear a bit more spit onto his cock, you make a mental note to pack condoms and lube in your bag for future missions—you know, just in case.
He settles back between your thighs, his expression now reminiscent of what you’re used to: calm, serious, measured as he searches your face for any sign of discomfort. “Are you sure? We don’t have to keep going if you’re sore.”
“Mm, yeah. I think I can come again.”
“Yeah? Then I’ll make it happen.”
Kakashi holds himself at your entrance, still watching your face as he starts to ease back inside, and he does it so gently, so tenderly, that you might actually be tempted to fall for him. You’ve never seen this side of him until tonight, even though you’ve been working together off and on for years.
“You’re sweet,” you say without thinking.
His eyebrows shoot straight up onto his forehead, before he coughs to cover a laugh. “My cock is in your ass, and you think I’m sweet?”
Well, when he puts it like that, he has a point. “No, never mind, I take that back,” you respond haughtily, but there’s no heat behind it. “You’re a dick. My bad.”
This time, he does laugh. Kakashi smooths his palm along your thigh as he hooks it over his hip. “Yes, yes. Now, how do you want it? Like this? Or…” He drops back down onto his forearms, pressing your bodies together, and studies your reaction. “Like this? What’s more comfortable?”
You wrap your arms around his neck and lean up to brush his nose with yours, teasing and affectionate. “Like this.”
His eyes shine warmly. “Can I kiss you?”
The question throws you, because he hasn’t kissed you yet. How the hell hasn’t he kissed you yet? “Yeah. Yes. Please.”
He smiles just a little before his lips slot over yours, and your body thrums electric as he begins to rock into you with sensual, fluid movements that alleviate that incessant ache in your abdomen.
“Touch yourself,” Kakashi breathes into your mouth, following the words with his tongue like he intends to explore every inch, maybe steal your breath while he’s at it. You’d let him, too. He’s that good of a kisser.
When you shove your hand between your bodies and find your clit, you throw your head back to bite out a swear. “S-Shit, that’s good—”
He kisses a blazing trail up the line of your neck, his teeth scraping pleasantly against your skin every so often. “You like it when I’m sweet to you?” he hums.
Of course he’d still be making fun of you for that. You can hear it in his tone, but you don’t pay it any mind because he feels so fucking good that you want to scream. It’s all you can do to make a soft little sound in the affirmative, your nails digging into his back.
“Good,” he murmurs, “because I like being sweet to you.”
You whine as he lovingly sucks a bruise on your neck, laving his tongue over the mark to soothe it after.
Then he pulls back just slightly to meet your heavy-lidded gaze. “Where do you want it? I’m not going to last much longer.” 
Your breath comes out in short, sharp pants as he brings you higher—and himself, too, judging by his bitten-back moan of approval when you lock your ankles behind his back. “Inside,” you breathe. “Need it inside.”  
“Fuck, I know you do. Are you—?”
You nod your head frantically as you hold the eye contact, though it becomes increasingly harder to do so the closer you get to the edge. Your eyelids flutter when he hits a particularly good spot inside of you, which he makes a point to target from then on.
“Oh, fuck. Oh my god,” you babble mindlessly, clutching at his shoulders with one hand, rubbing at your clit with the other. “Yes, right there, just like that!”
Kakashi holds you gently under your chin, his fingertips lightly pressing into your cheeks to ensure that you can’t look away, and there’s a fondness to his expression as he watches you fall apart. “Yeah? Like that?”
“Yes,” you sob. “Yes, yes, yes—”
When Kakashi kisses you again, there’s no decorum to it, no finesse, and his teeth click against yours from the sheer need behind it. His tongue pushes deeply into your mouth, stifling your moans as you finally come undone, your muscles bearing down around him so tightly that he has no choice but to shove in as far as he can go and coat your insides with his cum.
He lets out a sound of male satisfaction against your lips, and the sudden burst of heat deep inside your body brings on a sense of warm, fuzzy contentment—the satisfaction of a job well done.
As the aftershocks fade, your heart pounds a frenzied tattoo within the confines of your chest as you work to regain your breath. Kakashi slumps against you, boneless and fatigued and heavy as hell, and you grunt when he all but crushes you under his weight.
“I don’t think I can move,” he says tiredly, muffled with his face buried in your neck. “I think I pulled something.”
“Oh, poor baby.”
At that, he only lays more heavily on you, purposely, which knocks more of the breath out of your lungs; but he does lift up after a moment, and the way he rolls off of you and onto the futon, splaying out spread eagle, would be funny if you weren’t aware of how exhausting the comedown can be from an aphrodisiac.
He’s probably thoroughly tapped out. It’s impossible to say how many times he got off, not to mention all the physical exertion he’d gone through to get there.
“Did you die?” you ask.
“Probably. Your ass did feel like heaven.”
When you groan at his terrible joke and give his side a playful shove, Kakashi chuckles, and god, he sounds beyond tapped out. You’re actually a little concerned, so you lean up onto an elbow to give him a once-over, make sure he’s all right.
That pretty red flush is thankfully beginning to recede from his skin, though you find a number of scratch marks from your fingernails around his shoulders and upper arms. A surge of feminine pride flows through you upon seeing them, and you absently trace one with your fingertip before you finally glance up at his face, only to find him watching you in amusement.
“Pervert,” he says.
You choke on a laugh. “Excuse me?”
Kakashi tucks one of his arms behind his head as a makeshift pillow, looking entirely too self-satisfied for your liking. “You’re just as bad as I am. I could have sworn you’d be more vanilla.”
You turn your nose up at him. “Well, I already knew you were a pervert. You read porn in public.”  
“Erotic literature,” he corrects pointedly.
“Sorry, you read erotic literature in public. Because that’s so much better.”
The two of you look at each other for a moment, trying not to smile at the banter, before you roll your eyes in mock annoyance and lay back down, resting your head on his chest. Kakashi wraps his free arm comfortably around you, trailing delicate patterns along your shoulder with his fingertips.
“Are you feeling better?” you ask quietly.
“A bit. Thank you. I hope you aren’t too sore.”
“Oh, I’m definitely gonna feel it tomorrow. I haven’t done anal in months.” Then you lift your head to give him a cheeky grin, resting your chin on his chest. “Worth it, though. I mean, I finally got to see your face after all these years, so I’m not complaining.”
His lips twitch, like he’s trying not to laugh. “You could have just asked.”
You scoff. “Pass.”
Then you go to lay your head back down, but he stops you.
“Wait. Look at me.” When you do as he says, Kakashi brushes his thumb along the corner of your mouth. “You’ve got something right here.”
“What?” Frowning, you lift your chin a little so he can have a better look. “Well, get it, then.”
Before you can react, he leans in to give you a quick, unexpected kiss.
You blink at him, your heartbeat stuttering inside of your chest.
“Got it,” he hums, licking his lips.
Your cheeks flush all over again. “You—That’s—”
“What, am I only allowed to kiss you if I’m inside you?”
“No! Just…” Your face feels on fire, and you look away, embarrassed. There’s a difference between sex and intimacy, and you’ve just discovered the fine line between them. “Just warn me next time.”
“All right.” You can hear the amusement in his voice, but he doesn’t poke fun at you any longer. Instead, Kakashi leans up to grab the blankets with his free hand, after which he pulls them over you both and wraps that same arm around you, holding you closer than before. “Get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow.”  
Nestled comfortably in his arms, you finally allow your eyelids to flutter shut. “Night, Kakashi.”
His lips brush tenderly over your forehead, before he whispers, “Goodnight.”
A/N: yes they need a shower. no we do not acknowledge this. lmao
thank you for reading! if you could please please please keysmash in the comments or reblog to show your appreciation, it would give me sooo much dopamine :)) thank you!!!
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scruus · 3 months
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★ [𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲'𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲]
✎ : power bottom afab Al-Haitham x dom gn amab reader notes: aphrodisiac (in chocolates), dirty talk (very), reader is called daddy, haitham calls himself mommy, overstimulation, mentions of pregnancy(?), creampie, slight degradation, al-haitham being very very slutty
author talks: yea….this happened. Sorry.
lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ you right - doja cat
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“Okay then, you two lovebirds now have fun~”, Childe’s sheepish grin was the exact reason you adopted the habit of meditation and the path of ‘patience’. Which, by the way, was running at its limit. Not a single giggle or smile was cracked as he continued to humor his own joke and so to save face from further embarrassment, Zhongli dragged him back to their room.
Yanfei picked up her trolley bags, quite easily you noticed, and unlocked the room just opposite yours and Al-Haitham’s. Hu-Tao mumbled something to your boyfriend and his reaction remained the same whatsoever while she was giggling. You two bid goodbyes to the girls as they entered the room whereas you stepped inside your own, setting the bags down on the floor and taking in the room’s wide layout.
The group (mainly Childe) had hastily decided on a quick getaway before university would start and the routine of crying, screaming and chugging down caffeinated drinks till everyone’s body water content changed to dark espresso was to be set in motion. You and al-haitham being the only couple was the target of Childe’s teasing. And it was pure horror when he took the role of booking the hotel rooms without informing anyone. You were sure it would be some love hotel or a shady inn he would put everyone into but what a great surprise it was upon arriving at the place. Cozy, classic and modest.
You stretched your arms and cracked your back, “oof….am like an old granny now”. Haitham plugged both of you guys’ phones to the charger and then skipped to unpacking clothes from the bag like the responsible one in the relationship. “If you just joined me on my early morning walks everyday, you wouldn’t be an old raisin”, you gasped at his response, the cockiness just smoothly rolling from his lips and that gorgeous face of his is so damning you can’t even argue back.
“I am gonna go wash up”, grabbing your clothes from the bag, you threw one last glance at his figure which was hovering over the complimentary snacks counter, before entering the bathroom. They looked a bit different than the usual tea sachets, and chocolates, with the red heart drawn on but you didn’t give them much thought.
That was your biggest mistake.
After getting all clean and smelling like fresh lavender, you decided to take a nap in your bathrobe while Haitham decided to follow after into the washroom. “Honey! Wake me up if we need to go out!”, you shouted from the bed before cozying up inside the warm duvet.
Ah, peace.
With a weird feeling of hotness around your groin and the teasing licks of something wet, you woke up half-asleep from your snooze. Turning your gaze down, you saw Al-Haitham’s lips on your cock. His face looked flushed and the water was still dropping from his wet hair, strands sticking to his forehead.
“H-Haitham?”, you questioned, your voice all groggy yet having the element of surprise. He looked up at you and you felt your breath hitch. His eyes looked different. The composed and intelligent look was now exchanged with that of a hungry desperation. He never once stopped licking your shaft, gliding his tongue up and down while the eye contact was never broken. Plump lips sucking the tip of your thick cock as your nervousness soon drifted to lust.
He took his lips off with a pop yet his hand remained at its place, slowly massaging it up and down while he stared at it breathless. As if he had never seen it before. “W-what are you doing?”, you asked again, slowly. Your hands began to itch. It's like they wanted to force his mouth back on your dick. Make him take it all until his throat bulges. But you wouldn’t do that. You were too nice.
“mmm…I was hungry”, he licked like a kitten at the head, lapping up the pre-cum that was leaking, and it made you clench your jaw. “What?”, you bit your bottom lip trying to stifle a moan. “....was so hungry for daddy’s cock”, he groaned before putting your dick back in his mouth and slurping it up. A choked moan came from you when you heard his words. Daddy?.....DADDY???
Were you dreaming? Was it the end of the world? No, maybe you are still asleep and t-
“Ahmm~’, you whimpered as Haitham suddenly forced your cock inside his throat. You knew it was too big for him that's why you never coerced him to deepthroat you nor did he ever take the initiative, but now? He was whining with your cock stuffed inside him, throat clenching around it as spit dribbled down his chin. Gagging around it like some cockslut with tears welling up in his eyes. “Oh please…I wanted this so bad”, liquid trickled down his chin as he took our cock out all the while moaning in a low whine.
“Honey…wh-whats going on?”, you stretched out your hand and cupped his cheeks, worried that maybe he wasn’t feeling well. He stared at you before nuzzling in your palm, taking a deep whiff of your scent with his eyes closed. Trying to make his body realize your smell and let it wire inside his head. “Fuck….this won’t do”, he stood up on his knees, grumbling. The white bathrobe which was hiding his tanned porcelain body was beginning to shed, a working by his own hands.
“Can you tell me what’s goi-”, your eyes widened in surprise as they trailed down from his face to his cunt the moment the robe dropped down. It was dripping. A swollen clit showing itself off while his inner thighs were coated with slick.
….did he get this wet just by sucking me off?, your face contorted in confusion. Nothing was registering inside your mind.
“hmm…I don’t know”, his voice was soft and low. “I wanted to kiss you all day long”, he looked at you with doe eyes, “but didn’t know how to with everyone present”. His lips slowly formed into a pout, “and…and then I ate that chocolate and…..I felt so hot”, his hands started running down his body as if trying to tell you where it was burning. Chocolates?, you thought. But ho-
You remembered Childe’s winking face and it finally struck you.
Aphrodisiacs. That son of a bitch.
“Ngh~you’re not focusing on me”, he whined like an irate kid, his deep voice suddenly sounding a different pitch. His flushing cheeks now had tears trickling down them just because your eyes had dared to wander away from him. “Nonono Honey!”, you took his hands in yours, oddly happy seeing him like this, “I always focus on you….you’re the only thing I ever see!”. A shy smile popped up on his face and his turquoise eyes sparkled. “Really?”, he asked and you had never nodded so fast in your life. “So then…..do you see how wet this is?”, he pulled his hands back and reached down to his lower part, “do you see that it's so empty and aching so much?”. You gulped, trying to satisfy your parched throat but every inch of your body was hot right now. “I-It really needs your cock inside it”, he mumbled mindlessly, not having any idea about its effect on you.
“Mommy wanted Daddy’s cock all day”, he moaned as he slipped a finger inside his hole, “wanted daddy’s thick cock to stretch this starving cunt out”, his gaze burning a hole into your own as his lips parted open in a soft gasp. Mommy??????
Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod.
Stars. You were seeing literal stars around your room because this was unreal. Your lover, the great al-haitham, who would never beg you for a kiss let alone your cock, who would always judge when you would call him corny nicknames in public is now being filthy?? Is this what aphrodisiacs do? Turn normal people into mindless sluts?
“And now…Mommy has caught daddy”, he suddenly bent down, crawling towards you as his pecs flexed like a pair of tits and you had half a mind to just reach out and grope them. “So daddy will breed mommy like a good cumslut, right?”, his voice was sultry with a hint of patheticness as he positioned himself up.
Your cock was so painfully hard, it was embarrassing. The veins looked like they were about to burst and you were really concerned that it would take you just a second to ejaculate if your lover came anywhere close to your dick. For your boyfriend, it was a different case.
He was looking down at your shaft with hearts in his eyes. Ragged breaths leaving his mouth while a blush crawled up his body. He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, in an act of devouring you and your member. Your dick was standing erect and if he lowered himself a bit, the tip would be easily rubbing his pussy folds.
And that’s exactly what he did.
He slowly lowered himself, and the moment your dick touched his wet muscles, he hissed, eyelashes fluttering while his body relished the sensation. Trying to push himself down as your crown forced itself inside his hole, it was clearly too big but the burn felt so good. “F-fuck…..you’re so big”, he cried out once your tip finally settled inside his hole but the entirety was still remaining. Your eye looked at his nipples, all perked and red, and you really wished you could suck on them but you had to be the rational one right now.
His whimpers gained decibels as he worked himself open on your cock, trying to take it all. “Ngh~ my tight pussy just can't take you…hah”, his voice, his face, his pussy, everything was driving you insane. “Fuck it”, you growled as the last thread of reason snapped.
Pulling him down on your cock in an instant, Al-haitham screamed your name. His walls clenching around your throbbing dick as sticky fluids dripped out of him. The poor boy had jolts of shock coursing through his body as the orgasm fired up his nerves. He had already come.
“Look at this whore”, you wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled your trembling boyfriend closer, “I put my dick inside you and you cum immediately?”, the ridges of your dick rubbing along his sensitive insides and out came a meek whimper. The shame felt good to him, like it was something that was so natural. It was the way he was whining, the way his body felt limbless and his cunt so full that made him look all the more perfect for you to ruin. Although he was already mindbroken.
Placing your hands on his butt and groping that tender flesh you growled, “you wanted that cunt of yours to be fucked right?”, your eyes burning with lust, “so get ready”. Grabbing his ass, you made him bounce on your cock while your sobbing lover gasped in surprise. “Oughk- yesyesyes s’big kgghh-”, words slurring and his tongue lolling out. He was completely drunk on your cock and it was fucking wonderful.
“Who’s pretty pussy is this?”, you licked his neck aggressively while he just moaned in response. Angry, your hand left its position at its buttcheek to pinch his clit and Haitham almost felt his soul drive out of his body. “Whose is it!”, your voice sounded a lot more stern and demanding now as Haitham babbled, “yours~ s’yours daddy ugh-”. Truly reduced to a brainless nothing.
Haitham’s walls were contorting to the shape of your pulsing member inside and the pain suited him. All warm, wet and aching, as his gummy walls hugged you in a desperate fervor. He had never felt this good before. Oh, how he wished now to be a free use fleshlight of yours so that you could pick him up anytime and fill his pussy until it's gaping, spilling it all out like a pathetic slut who can’t do a single job. A slut who knows nothing except having his daddy’s cock splitting him open and breeding him.
“S-shit haitham you’re so tight”, you croaked because his gummy walls were clenching down on your shaft all the right ways and it felt heavenly. Fat globs of tears rolled on his cheeks as his guttural pleas of “too much!” and “sho good~” sang in your ears. His hand trailed down to his stomach and he felt your dick bulging through it. Giggling he drooled, “daddy shooo huge”, your eyes scanning his unkempt hair and erotic face while he inched closer to you,”I can feel you all up in my tummy”, he whispered mischeviously. Fuck, this man is gonna be the death of you.
His head jerked back and he howled as you angled your thrust at a spot that made him blank. Hips stuttering and nails digging on your shoulders, you knew he was close. “Bab-oh oh, Im gonna cum”, you moaned before nibbling on his neck then moving to kiss his lips. He moaned into your mouth, chasing after it, the ache between his legs and the tingling sensation on his clit told him he was close too. “Close…m’close ngh”, he keened in a high pitched voice as your rhythm turned erratic, faster and more brutal inside him.
“Insideinsideinsi- cum inside pleashee~”, choked whimpers of relentless begging turned your head dizzy and you complied because there was no way you were missing the chance of filling your boyfriend’s pretty pussy up when he was being so cute. Your palm rubbed against his swollen nub while Al-Haitham felt your tip prodding at the entrance of his cervix, good god you were so deep it was turning his brain into mush. He’d end up getting knocked up by you at this point, an idea Al-Haitham was suddenly getting fond of.
And as you came with a low moan, your hand tightly gripping his waist, your lover felt the burning knot in his abdomen finally fall apart. As the feel of your thick, warm cum rushed inside him, he could feel his eyes roll back and his body convulse in your arms due to the shockwaves. Orgasm so shattering, nothing but croaking gasps left his mouth and he was aware of how his pussy was sucking out every last drop of your seed. A ravenous beast.
Carefully settling his head in the crook of your neck, you looked down below at the white ring around the base of your cock and the few trails of fluid dripping down your cock. Oh god, your eyes widened as the realization hit you, oh god he is gonna kill me. The pleasure felt so good you forgot the consequence of going rough on your lover’s cunt, taking him to poundtown like some madman. But dear lord was it so scandalously good. All the more sinful to commit.
While your brain pondered scenarios as to how you would explain stuff to Haitham or maybe firstly go and kill that ginger in his room, a slight hint of pain erupted in your cock. You thought that maybe it was because Haitham was still wrapped around your length, that it was his hole clenching around you, but you were so wrong. The slow grind of his hips as you felt your soft cock turn hard inside him made you realize your incorrect assumption.
“Wh-what-?”, a finger was pressed on your lips as Haitham looked up to face you. “Mommy is still not done yet”, he whispered as you saw the outline of hearts appearing in his eyes again. “I told you right, you need to turn me into a cumslut”, a sly smirk appeared on his lips, “need to breed me until all I can think of is daddy's fat cock messing up my insides”.
“Get to work”, he instructed.
You silently gulped. Oh this is gonna be a long night.
— – — — – —
“Y’all they are really late, should we go by ourselves?”, Yanfei mumbled angrily. The group was waiting for you two to come out of your room but you both had refused to answer any calls or texts and so the rest were huddled in Childe’s room.
Ding!
“Guys, we won’t be able to go out today, Haitham’s a bit sick”, Zhongli read out your message to the group and they all sighed, maybe with the question that how did he even get sick. All except childe.
“Should we go and check up on h-”,asked Zhongli, “No!”, to which Childe’s abrupt reply silenced all. Everyone looked at him, confused.
“This is a different kind of sickness….you guys won’t get it”, he smiled a knowing smirk, something the others innocent minds had no idea about. He urged everyone to get out of the hotel and enjoy the day along the beach with drinks and food. Just like his two friends who were having the time of their lives, rutting into one another.
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dervampireprince · 1 year
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taking care of astarion after cazador's death no smut, just comfort /// gender-neutral reader/tav
after cazador's deminse, after the spawn leave, once it's just you and your companions again, astarion doesn't speak. it's as if he's in a daze. you're torn between giving him space and leaving him on his own, and wondering if he really needs to not be alone right now.
he's still covered in blood, you'd given him a shirt he pulled on over his head, the grime on his skin soaked through and left it sticking to his skin, it was over his face, in his hair. he didn't make any move to wipe any of it away.
the trek out of the castle, out of the dark, seemed so long. you wondered how he was still standing, how he was dragging his legs. you stay by his side, but did not touch him, you make no move to grab his hand, to sooth him. you hoped walking at his side, matching his pace, conveyed enough. you were here. and you weren't going to touch him until he said it was alright.
you only had one plan you cared about when you finally reached the inn. the others talked amongst themselves, one by one their eyes lingering on astarion, apologising, telling him he did the right thing, that they were proud of him. you watched them start to retreat up to their rooms as you spoke with innkeeper.
once done with your conversation, key in hand, astarion still stood at the foot of the stairs.
"were you waiting for me?" you asked. he opened his mouth to speak, his eyes drifted down, he paused. "i want to take you somewhere. and i know you're tired, i promise it's to help you rest."
he nodded, still mute, you reached out to take his hand, stopped yourself, and instead beckon him to follow you.
you wound through the inn, existing out into a small garden, and entering the building on the other side, guiding astarion through the main door and down the corridors until you found the door that fits the key the innkeeper gave you.
inside was a small, private bath, sunken into the ground like a hot spring. it's nothing that fancy, but it's quiet, and fits it's purpose. you press the key into his hand, carefully.
"i can leave, if you'd like. and you can take all the time you need... or, if you'd rather, i can stay and help you wash. and that's all we'll be doing. i'd be touching you, but it wouldn't be sexual. and if you're not comfortable with that, it's okay," you twisted your head to try and catch his gaze. "would you like me to stay or go? i won't be offended or upset, the choice is yours, and if you'd rather i go i'll be waiting for you upstairs."
he still didn't speak, you wondered if his screams and cries earlier have made his voice hoarse, or if he just can't bring himself too. your hand hovered by his cheek, not touching, but trying to guide his head to turn towards yours, and when he finally does there's wetness in his eyes, the blood high on his cheekbones becoming smudged.
"would you like me to stay?"
his teeth sank into his lip, if they drew blood you'd be unable to tell. he nodded his head.
"would you like to undress yourself, or do you want me to help?"
you saw him shudder, and he stepped back and as he started to remove his clothes you did the same with yours. you wade into the bath, sinking down and sigh as the water washes over your tired muscles.
you turned, and reached out a hand towards him. he took it.
he's silent as you reached into the small basket at the side of the bath, lathering soap in your hands and getting to work, starting with his hands, kneading around his nails, up his arms, his torso, his face.
he's silent as you nudged him to move, knelt up behind him, asked him to tilt his head back, poured water over his head, felt him start to relax as he closed his eyes, running your hands through his hair, feeling as though it's the most intimate action you've ever done with him, despite the multiple nights of passion.
he's still silent when you exited the baths, annoyed that you can't just roll under clean sheets but have to redress yourselves, as you hesitated to follow him into your room, ready to bunk with one of the others, but he took your hand, and then you're both silent as you undress again, crawl under the sheets, letting him reach for you this time, now that he's ready, taking him in your arms, cradling his head to your chest, fingers playing with his hair.
you don't imagine the soft "thank you" that fell from his lips as you both drifted off to sleep.
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knoxic · 5 days
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Cycle of Greed
Azriel x reader | Lucien Vanserra x reader | p1 - p2 - p3 - p4
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Summary: Reader and Lucien arrive at Day Court and go drinking. Azriel goes through some rough shit and gives Rhys and Cassian a new trauma.
wc: 6k
warnings: Alcohol, almost death experience, mentions of sex (?)
a/n: I wrote the Lucien scenes while drunk and sleepy, the next day when I went back to write I didn't remember half of it. It was a good surprise, I caught myself blushing at my own work.
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After arriving at Day Court, Lucien took you to the inn where you'd be staying. Helion no doubt had a room ready for both of you, but Lucien didn't want to risk being stuck in his father's palace, not again. You understood his reasons, of course, the damage Beron had done to him was one Lucien would have to carry for the rest of his life.
The inn was cozy and entirely Day coded, embellished in white and gold. Your room was more of a flat, with a couple of bedrooms, a bathroom decorated with stained glass that reflected colorful lights, the kitchen was filled with white furniture, high arched windows allowed rays of sunlight to dance inside the living room, you could swear Lucien's skin seemed to glow with them.
Watching him in what was supposed to be one of his natural habitats was something special. Lucien had to learn how to fit into places that weren't ready to receive him in his true form, so he adapted. Although he still maintained some of his origins, the Autumn part of himself had mixed with Spring over the years, he kept some of the colors and habits, Day Court was only in his blood, hidden from everything and everyone, even himself for some time. While your wardrobe only contained Night Court clothes, Lucien had perfected his to fit into any court he had to visit.
Now adorned in white and gold, Lucien was breathtaking, striking male beauty only Helion radiated.
"When we get back, you should ask Feyre for a painting, it'll last longer." He didn't even lift his head to look at you. Your cheeks warmed, he caught you staring him up and down, but surely there was nothing wrong in admiring a friend right? Especially if said friend was Lucien, who deserved to be looked at with nothing but admiration and pride.
"Shut up." You rolled your eyes at him with no true irritation. Lucien barked out a laugh, throwing his head back, a smile curled on your lips at the sight.
"There's nothing wrong with looking," he turned his upper body back to face you, flashing you a smirk. "I even dare say I liked it."
"Gods, you're so full of yourself aren't you?!" you groaned, more at yourself for eyeing him like that. After over a century of pining over Azriel, admiring him, wanting only him, looking at another male felt weird.
You went back to your room, dropping on the bed and rethinking your decision to come. You didn't regret accompanying Lucien, but this close proximity suddenly felt strange, you shared an apartment with him for God's sake, why did you feel this way?
Being with Lucien never felt wrong before, but now it did. Because you were starting to see him as a male, not a friendly male, an insanely attractive male. When your body heated and a knot formed on your lower belly, you thought of Azriel. Not Lucien. Now you weren't sure who you'd think of when your hand drifted down your body, who you'd imagine between your legs when your eyes slipped close from pleasure.
Azriel had never left you unsatisfied, it always felt good to be with him, he knew what to do and you wouldn't deny that, and it was natural that you'd only find pleasure with him or yourself. But if he could want another female when he was still with you, then you wouldn't feel bad about wanting another male while being single.
"Did I make you uncomfortable?" Lucien asked quietly, you hadn't even heard the door opening. You lifted your head to peer at him, he kept his head down while leaning against the doorway. "It wasn't my intention."
"You didn't," your head dropped back, "I'm just thinking." It was true, but he just didn't need to know what you were thinking. Lucien hummed and you heard his steps coming closer, you had closed your eyes for a moment when his weight dropped on the bed, instead of laying on the space beside you, he opted for laying horizontally above you, being careful to not lay on your hair but still close enough.
"Of him?" You would've laughed at the situation if you weren't so mortified. You wondered if Lucien thought the same, if he felt attracted to other females after Elain.
"Can I ask you something?" As embarrassed as you were, knowing that he felt the same would make you feel better, and if he didn't, then you'd just pretend you never felt anything.
"I didn't know we had to ask for permission, Ace,"  he tried teasing but his voice was as tense as yours. "Of course you can." You took a moment to find the courage you needed.
"Do you– ugh," it was harder than you expected, Lucien wouldn't judge you but he'd definitely tease you for being horny, and maybe that wasn't exactly what you needed.
"Just ask it." You turned your head up slightly, he already looked down at you, seeing him look so vulnerable and open eased your worries. Lucien was your equal, no matter what, he'd stand by you and some silly lustful thoughts wouldn't push him away. Not after everything you went through together.
"Do you feel... Like, do you want–or think of other... females?" heat rose to your cheeks and ears, you averted your eyes from his but kept your head turned to the side, so you could see if he tried to hide a laugh.
"Yes." Your head snapped up, his face was as serious as you ever saw him, like it didn't bother him at all to admit it.
"Yes?!" You didn't mean to sound so shocked, you were just surprised by his lack of concern. If it didn't mean that big of a deal for him, who had a mate, then it wouldn't be for you either. "Like in a–"
"Sexual way? Yes, I think of another female." His eyes drifted away before he turned to look up, "It's easy not to think of Elain. She's my mate, and yet... I don't even feel attracted to her anymore." His mouth opened and closed, a sigh escaping him before he looked at you, his eyes pleading for something you couldn't place, "Would you think badly of me if I said she meant nothing?" You wouldn't, couldn't ever think badly of him. Elain never gave him a chance, he was completely allowed to do and think whatever he wanted now. At least he had tried.
"No," your hands twitched with the need to touch him, comfort him, "I understand." The relief in his eyes was clear, he needed reassurance.
Only a beat of a moment passed before you could stand being so far. Slowly you pushed yourself up, wiggling your head against his arm hoping he would understand what you wanted, fortunately he did, with an amused scoff Lucien lifted his arm, allowing you to push yourself higher and drop your head into his stomach. His arm dropped beside your body, his fingers brushed your own arm a couple times before he deemed it okay to rest his hand on it.
"Can I ask you something?" Hearing the same phrase you spoke to him before now really sounded weird.
"Since when do we ask for permission?" Lucien laughed, his stomach moved and your head bounced, you lifted yourself to glare at him for it and it only made him laugh harder. Before you knew it, a hot hand placed on your forehead pulled you back down, his arm dropping to your chest to hold you back from lifting again.
"Why did you ask me that?" His voice was gentle and warm, your cheeks burned at how fast your body filled with goosebumps, "Do you feel attracted to other males?" At your lack of response, his thumb caressed your cheek carefully. "It's okay if you do, it doesn't have to mean anything."
It doesn't have to mean anything.
There's something about Lucien that just soothes you, as weird as it feels to say it, his mainly nature allows you to be yourself, no hard shells. You didn't have to fight off males at bars because Lucien was there to do it for you. You didn't have to be the male. He radiated warmth and comfort.
"Come," he didn't give you a chance to respond to his latter question, the hand that wasn't on your chest gently lifted your head, "Let's go get drunk." For a brief moment his eyes settled on your body, before you could feel embarrassed under his gaze, Lucien spoke with a certain annoyance, "But it won't do with those clothes, honey."
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "What's wrong with my clothes?" Even though your attire was rather simple, there wasn't anything particularly wrong or ugly about it.
"Funny, you never told me you had eye problems." The mocking smile on his face made you groan.
"Because I don't!" You yelled, sitting up so fast that your head spinned. Lucien blinked slowly, waiting for you to realize what was wrong, he only spoke when he noticed how lost you were.
"We're in Day Court, they're gonna kick us out of the bar if I take you out looking like this!" his hand gestured towards your dark clothes, "You're the perfect picture of a Night Court resident." Lucien stood up, snatching your hand and pulling you to your feet, you almost fell when he continued pulling you out of the room, towards the front door.
𓂃
When Azriel woke up for the second time, his chest hurt. A pressure he never felt before making it hard to breathe, his lungs burning as if he was drowning, the satin sheets scratched his sensitive skin. After he managed to fully open his eyes and look down at himself, he noticed red bumps on his arms and chest. When he tried to move, his whole body ached like he'd just fought the worst battle of his life. And the worst part was, he couldn't feel his wings.
In his half assed inspection, he noticed the dirty blonde hair sprawled across his sheets and he knew then that his shadows wouldn't help him. He tried to call for Elain, or anyone really, but he just ended up having a bad coughing fit. As he usually did when he couldn't or didn't want to speak, he called for Rhysand, hoping his brother would hear his desperate plea and help him.
'What's wrong?' his voice sounded annoyed but if Azrie wasn't so concerned, he'd notice how worried Rhysand actually sounded. 'Az? Answer me!'
When he woke for the third time, the room he was in wasn't his own, he recognized after a brief glance around that it was the infirmary.
"You're awake! Thank the mother..." The last part was uttered under his breath, Rhysand shot up to his feet, ruffling Azriel's hair with one hand and lightly patting his arm with the other. "I thought we'd lost you, brother."
Loud footsteps echoed through the hallway moments later, the door busted open and suddenly he was being pulled up, strong arms holding his body tightly.
"Idiot," sniffles and sobs muffled against his neck, "you scared me!" Cassian pulled back to look at him, wide and red eyes roaming over his face and body, taking in his features and wellbeing.
"What happened?" Azriel pulled back only to be taken by a different pair of arms, Rhysand nuzzled his head against his own, a shaky breath tickling his still sensitive skin.
"Madja said you had an allergic reaction, something you ate or drank or something overdosed..." Cassian spoke slowly, like the words felt weird on his tongue, "Azriel–" his breath got stuck in his throat, a choking sound filled the quiet room. Rhysand pulled back from the hug, violet eyes drifted between his two brothers, settling a while longer on Cassian. Azriel watched their silent interaction curiously.
"Az..." Rhysand called his attention, waiting for him to nod before continuing, "Your heart stopped beating."
𓂃
Shopping with Lucien was exactly how you expected. Trying on a bunch of different clothes only for him to roll his eyes and shake his head no, gesturing with a hand for you to get back inside the dressing room and try the next. You would've gotten annoyed at him if he didn't make up for his attitude.
"That's... By the Mother, Ace." He chuckled nervously, "Don't get me wrong! I mean—you're beautiful in any way, but in that... A Goddess would be outshined in your presence." You could swear the room had just turned a bit warmer and brighter at his words.
"Stop it–" you brushed him off.
"No, I mean it." That being the last dress you had to try on, Lucien got up from his seat, taking the basket with the clothes he'd approved and made his way towards you. His hand took yours gently, pulling you closer to himself, you were too busy trying to avert his gaze to notice the way he looked at you, the way he admired you. Trying to get your attention Lucien squeezed your hand, making you look up, for a moment you both just stared at each other, then he lifted your hand and made you turn slowly.
"Yeah, we're definitely taking this one." Lucien didn't give you time to be embarrassed, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to the shoes section.
𓂃
"What?" His question was whispered under his breath, his sore throat made his voice rougher than it usually was.
"For a few minutes we–" Rhysand exhaled another shaky breath, "we lost you. You died." He waited for Azriel to show any reaction before caressing his mind with careful talons. Azriel allowed him with no more than just a blink.
"Az? Azriel!" Rhysand tried to shake him awake, feeling his brother's frigid skin made him recoil. "No..."
"Rhys? What's– Oh Gods, no, no, no!" Cassian pushed the High Lord aside, gathering Azriel in his arms and walking out in hurried steps. Being careful not to bang his wings, long legs or head against the door and walls.
He knew he hadn't checked Azriel's pulse or breathing, and refused to look down at his bare chest to know for sure, but he only had one thing in his mind at the moment, finding help. He would do anything to make sure his brother would live, but he knew he couldn't help him in this situation, and he also knew how Rhysand felt on death threatening occasions, so he went to the only other place that could give Azriel the type of help he needed.
Madja was always ready for anything, there was never a day or night where she wasn't able to help. Whatever it was, she always had the solution for it.
Until now.
"I am so sorry, High Lord!" she seemed as desperate as they were, "It seems his body is fighting something, he has symptoms of an allergy reaction, his organism reacted badly to something and is now trying to reject it. But I can't tell what and if I can't tell... then there's nothing I can do..." her eyes were filled with moisture, she couldn't meet anyone's gaze and wouldn't tear hers away from Azriel.
"We can't just sit here..." Cassian pondered, something came to his head and he glanced at Rhysand, noticing how he seemed to be on the verge of panic he stepped closer, "Brother, look at me! He's not going to die, you hear me?! Azriel's not going to die!" Cassian shook him, calling to him in his mind, showing him what he was thinking.
𓂃
Four drinks in and you couldn't take it anymore, it'd been so long since you've gotten drunk that you weren't sure if you knew how to handle alcohol, Lucien didn't seem like he'd stop any time soon. Now you realized how spoiled Rhysand had gotten you, unintentionally or not. You were used to his wine and the drinks at Rita's, which paled in comparison to what they had in Day. A little part of you that hadn't come out in so long, slowly slipped to the surface, new ideas about trying the rest of the unusual drinks or roaming the city trying a drink from each bar you could find filled your head.
"Didn't you like it? We can try another." Lucien tapped your arm with his fingers, bringing your attention to him.
"No, this one's fine," you took a sip of the coloured drink trying to make a point, grimacing as you did.
Lucien grinned, "Yeah? Then I'll get another–"
"No!" Your hand shot up to hold his arm when he moved to stand, his face told you you'd have to give him a good excuse if you wanted him to sit back down. You groaned and let go of him, your fingers lightly pushed the drink away. "It's not bad–Really! it isn't! It's just... I'm not used to drinks this strong." You muttered the last part, hoping he wouldn't catch.
"Sorry, what was that?" He leaned close, one of his hands cupping his ear. You rolled your eyes.
"I said, I'm not used to drinks this strong." Lucien cooed at you.
"Aw, baby! You could've told me!" the hand that cupped his ear fell to your back, gently patting and rubbing you, you waited for the moment he'd mock you, "I would've asked for a warm cup of milk–"
A loud smack echoed. Just in time for your hand to make contact with his arm, the talking and music quieted. A few faes turned to glance at you both, raised eyebrows and hushed whispers, your cheeks heated up at the embarrassment consuming you. Lucien threw his head back and barked out a laugh that had your head falling against the table with a tud, you wanted to cave a hole right there and bury yourself in it, only coming out centuries later when everyone had forgotten it, including yourself.
𓂃
"Thank you." Rhysand breathed out, after seeing some color return to Azriel's face he felt like he could properly breathe again, "Really, I'll be in debt with you for the rest of my life." Those were dangerous words for a High Lord like him, and still he pronounced them clearly, it was a promise.
"No need. You're my friend and I'm glad to help." Helion patted his arm and left after a brief nod in Cassian's direction, wanting to give them the privacy to be vulnerable. Cassian immediately took it, crossing the room and pulling Rhysand into a tight hug.
"He's okay, he's okay." He repeated. Rhys hummed against his neck in response.
Now that the worst part was over, that he was sure Azriel would live, the brutality of the situation hit him. Azriel almost died and Elain was behind it. He wondered if she knew what she did, if that was her intention from the beginning or if it was an accident. He wondered why. Even though he hated the idea, he thought she loved him, thought they loved each other, enough so that Azriel defied him. But this... this wasn't love. Her reasons to do it didn't matter.
Rhysand hated himself for failing his brother, but he hated her more. He wanted to go back to the House of Wind and make Elain pay, perhaps giving her the drug she had given Azriel and see what happened, a strong Illyrian male survived, with the right help, he wondered how a simple high fae would take it, alone.
While embraced in strong loving arms, Rhysand fantasized about the female who almost killed his brother, who threatened his family. Wild fantasies of her in extreme pain, deadly worry, agonizing her last breath filled his mind. He wondered if Azriel would want a turn with her, if he'd want to make her pay for almost ending his life, for taking away his choice, for destroying the life he'd built with you.
Ace. He had to tell you, even if you ended up ignoring him, even if it didn't change anything for you, you should know. But he had something to do first.
𓂃
Coming back to the inn felt like a dream. With merry eyes that place was heavenly. You didn't remember getting ready for bed but the oversized shirt you wore and lack of makeup on your face showed you had. After doing your morning routine, you left your room. You assumed Lucien was still asleep given that there weren't any sounds coming from the hallway, so with quiet steps you made your way to the kitchen, only to find the table already set.
You were too busy munching on a piece of bread to notice the presence behind you. Two fingers jabbing into your ribs and a weirdly attractive 'morning' uttered by your ear made you jump, the squeak the chair let out mixed with your yelp. When your heartbeat stopped deafening your ears, you heard Lucien howling.
"The bread!" He wheezed. You watched him with narrowed eyes but after understanding what he had said, you started searching for it. "Cei–" he tried to say something only to start laughing again.
"What?" You frantically searched for the bread and still there was no trace of it, glancing back at Lucien you noticed his finger pointing up. The piece of bread had stuck to the ceiling above your head, the splashes of jam started falling as you looked up. A weird wet sound and the smack of bread on the table had Lucien barking out laughter.
Someone knocking interrupted your silly moment, Lucien wiped the tears in his eyes and walked to the front door. The silence that followed was awkward, there was no sound after the door opened, no greetings. A few seconds later you got curious and decided to go see who it was, as you walked closer Lucien asked what was wrong, you would've waited fro the other person to speak if you hadn't caught a glimpse of black. As you fully turned the corner, violet eyes drifted to you.
There was something in him that just felt unsettling. Rhysand seemed disturbed, and you hoped it had nothing to do with you.
"I need to talk to you." His voice was quiet, worrying you even more. You nodded and Lucien invited him in, closing the door behind him.
"I'll be in my room if you need me." He walked away after a brief look at you.
You took Rhysand to the living room, pointing for him to sit before taking the other side of the couch. The High Lord leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, his fingers fidgeting.
"I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm going to show you," he hesitantly turned to face you, "if you allow me."
"Okay." Even if it had something to do with you, it was bad enough to make Rhysand nervous, and that wasn't good.
Images of the last three days filled your mind. Azriel's pale body limp and Cassian gathering him would haunt you forever. Seeing Rhysand's inner turmoil, Cassian fighting to stay composed for his brothers sake, the Archeron sisters yelling at each other, Mor and even Amren looking troubled, it was all too much for you. Minutes after the memories ended you still hadn't pronounced a word, there was not a single indication of what you were thinking or feeling.
"Helion helped heal him, Madja wasn't able to so we brought him here. We would've taken him to Dawn but given that it was a potion, we couldn't risk losing time only to be met with no solution, and since there's not a spell Helion doesn't know, it was a wise decision." With a glance in his direction, you noticed how he nodded absentmindedly, his voice quiet as if he was talking more to himself. "It was Cassian."
The thought of Cassian poisoning Azriel sounded horrifying and the most unrealistic thing ever, "What?!" It was a loud whisper, you would've yelled if your voice hadn't failed you, almost muted from shock.
"No! Gods, no! I'm sorry I made it sound like that, I meant that it was Cassian's idea to bring him here. He took over when I couldn't think straight..."
"Thank the Mother," you breathed out, relief overtaking you for a moment before another thought came to mind, "but, who was it?" you hesitated for a moment, Azriel couldn't have poisoned himself accidentally, and the thought of someone close to him doing that, was terrifying. If someone had the guts to harm The Spymaster of the Night Court, they were either out of their mind, or the most threatening person to enter that court in centuries.
"Elain." Your stomach dropped, that uncomfortable sensation of shock filled you, Elain!?
Out of everything your mind could have come up with, Elain harming Azriel wouldn't be one of them. Up until a few seconds ago you still thought they loved each other, thought she wanted him badly enough to push her mate aside, thought he wanted her badly enough to throw you away and go against his brother to be with her. She had him, how could she harm him like that? Why?
"When Azriel was stable, I went to interrogate her, to know exactly what her intention was." He started when he noticed you were lost in thought. "It was a love potion. She had been cultivating passionflower for months now, its tea is used to treat insomnia, anxiety and pain. but apparently it's also used on love potions. So every time she pretended to help him ease his anxiety and sleep better, she was also drugging him into being in love with her." You uttered some curse words under your breath, Rhysand nodded in agreement before continuing. "She was using the flower petals and concentrated syrup on the cakes and pastries she gave him, saying it was a new recipe or just a form of payment for his help. According to her, three nights ago Azriel started acting differently, she could see the way his behavior drifted from being obsessed and lustful to disgust and indifference, so she thought it'd be a good idea to triple the tea's dose. The thing is, Az already had a decent amount of it in his system, he just wasn't reacting to it, and after the triple dose... It made him relax and sleep as intended, but when he drifted off, his heartbeat slowed way more than normal and it only got worse. The soreness he was feeling from the past few days turned into extreme pain, the beating Cassian and I gave him, his wing... It all made him too sensitive, the bruises turned red and angry like closed wounds or rashes. He managed to wake up somehow," Rhysand gave a humorless laugh, "and he called me... when I found him..." he drifted off, for sure reliving the moment behind his closed eyelids.
"Rhys..." you tried to find what to say, but nothing came up, you couldn't think straight. Your lower lip trembled, your eye stinging with tears that you couldn't keep from falling. A hand rested over your shaky one, his body shifting closer to you, his other hand bringing you to lean on his chest, planting a kiss to the side of your head before resting his against you and letting his own tears fall.
"I know it's a lot to take in... it was for me too." He breathed shakily in and out. "I took care of her, Az is safe, no one will hurt him again. It's okay." He kept uttering words to comfort you both.
You didn't know what to think. Azriel hadn't chosen her, he didn't love her, didn't push you aside because he stopped loving or wanting you. It made sense now why he seemed so intrigued when you mentioned breaking up, why his change was so sudden, why you didn't recognize him. The Azriel you broke up with wasn't the same Azriel you had fallen in love with, and at the same time that it relieved a horrible weight off of your chest, it also laid another. Because even if it wasn't your fault, you hated yourself for not seeing it earlier, for leaving him and giving her the chance to have him, and more so for even for a brief moment, wanting Lucien.
"You couldn't have known." You immediately closed off your mind and pushed away from his chest, refusing to meet Rhysand's eyes. "I'm not judging you, I wouldn't ever do that. I hate myself too for not seeing it, I knew he was different but I was just so pissed that I didn't even consider... I'm sure that the Azriel we know wouldn't judge you either. And, can I tell you something?" His hands were still holding yours and rubbing your back.
"Yeah." You still refused to look at him, your cheeks tinged with shame, Rhysand lifted your chin, his face showed no signs of bad emotions anymore, and if you dared guess, it showed hope.
"First I want you to know I'm not prompting you to do anything, I just want you to acknowledge the truth, you don't have to do anything with it if you don't want to. Again, I'm not going to judge you." He waited until you understood and nodded before speaking. "Azriel never loved Elain. His heart belongs to you... his soul belongs to you."
You tilted your head in question, wondering why he looked at you so intrigued. Of course, hearing that Azriel never loved another from someone else's mouth comforted you, showed that you weren't so wrong in assuming.
"Sweetheart–" he opened his mouth to continue but closed quickly after, thinking for a moment before meeting your eyes with a newfound determination, "Elain only resorted to that because she knew she was losing time, she couldn't make him fall for her naturally, and she knew she wouldn't have the chance to do it if Azriel found out." Rhysand shook his head when he noticed you didn't have a clue of what he was saying, his talons caressed you mind wanting to show you. It was a moment you didn't remember, and wouldn't ever because it didn't and wouldn't happen.
Both you and Azriel babysitting Nyx, who was snuggled in your arms, giggling from your fingers tickling his sides. Azriel watched the scene with adoring eyes, his shadows danced at the sound of your laughter, floating around you. The baby's back was turned to him, and the sight of his wings and black hair gave Azriel an image of what could be his future. His baby, giggling and snuggling with you, their eyes a copy of yours, nose the perfect mixture of you both, pointy ears half hidden behind black hair. Your eyes met his from behind his nephew's head, the light in them and your face glowing with happiness told him you were thinking the same. The love he cultivated behind his ribs bloomed, he could swear his heart pulsed so hard you could see it moving even hidden behind his shirt.
He watched you gently place Nyx down, making sure he entertained himself with some toys before making your way towards him. Azriel met you halfway, as always, locking his arms behind you and pulling you into his chest, your bodies fit perfectly.
"Can you imagine it?" You spoke softly.
"Yeah, I can." You could basically hear his smile.
Azriel pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to your head to make you look at him. Your eyes met hazel ones, the molten gold in his eyes, mingled with green and brown, glowed. The swirls they made resembled his shadows, you could spend hours staring into his irises and still they would fascinate you. Azriel blinked, when your eyes met this time, there was gold in yours too, a small thread growing brighter and brighter, his heart ached, a pull constricted his breath and he hissed, when your brows furrowed and your eyes watered, he knew you felt the same.
The thread became bigger and you finally felt your souls connected, Azriel's happiness was overwhelming, the tears fell. His forehead rested on yours, he sniffled and chuckled a moment later, shaking his head in astonishment.
"It's you..." he smiled, pulling back and caressing your face, "I always knew it was you." He whipped your tears while his own fell freely down his cheeks, your hands cupped his face, bringing him down for a kiss.
The memory ended and your heart broke. Seeing Azriel so close like that again, and so full of love, that was the male you knew and loved, knowing that perhaps you'd never get to experience that moment with him, absolutely wrecked you. Your throat tightened trying to hold back your sobs, fat tears rolled down your face, wetting your and Rhysand's shirt. 
Azriel was your mate. It was you he was tied to. Not Elain, not Mor. You.
Your mind provided you with a thousand possibilities of how your life could have been, if only Elain hadn't interfered. Your heart ached for him, for you, for the family you could've built. You still wanted him, it was too soon for you to have stopped wanting, but it was also too early to tell what was the right thing to do. Perhaps such a thing didn't exist, you both have always walked a thin line between right and wrong.
What confused you most was also longing for Lucien. Right when you decided that it wasn't wrong to want him, this happened. How could you feel so much want, and for different people? 
So you cried. For everything and everyone. For all the possible futures you could've had, and for the ones you still could have. For hatred, for love, for the blankness inside you. For not knowing if what you felt for Lucien was only lust. For still loving Azriel, enough that whatever happened with Elain didn't matter anymore, it wasn't his fault anyway. And most importantly, you cried for yourself. For the pain inflicted upon you, for the rough path you always had to walk, for the weight of the world that you carried on your shoulders everyday.
Rhysand didn't move, his arms never strayed from your trembling body. He never tried to stop your tears, he knew you had to get the pain out someway. He whispered gentle words right by your ear, everything he knew would help ease your worries and pain.
The tears stopped after a few minutes, Rhys didn't let go immediately, letting you make the first move and pull away first. After that you spent a little while thinking through your options, taking a moment to decide what you wanted. 
“Do you think–” you glanced at him to see his expression, “do you think he'll want to see me?” 
“What?!” Rhysand scoffed, “Sweetheart, of course he'll want to see you.” 
This trip was supposed to be relaxing, a time for you to not think of everything that happened. Lucien has asked you to come with him, to be there for him. You knew that he'd be okay with you going to see Azriel, because that's just the way he was, he would put himself aside to make sure his friends were happy, nevermind that his own happiness was just as important.
If someone deserves happiness, a happy ending, it's him. Lucien overworked so he wouldn't notice how alone he was, he used to avoid going home before you went to live with him. You both had become so much closer in the past few days, taking care of each other, having more fun than you've had in years. 
You weighed your options, you could stay with him and continue with your original plans, you could go see Azriel out of respect for the time you spent together and worry for the male you loved, you could just send a letter, and you could go back to him, because none of what happened was his fault.
“I need some time to think.”
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Taglist: @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @meritxellao @cleverzonkwombatsludge @paintedbyshadows @mp-littlebit @rcarbo1 @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @littlepippilongstocking @lorosette @minnieoo @hailqueenconquer @azriels-shadowsinger @blessthepizzaman @chelsiemp @saltedcoffeescotch @thestartitaness @historygeekqueen @sillyfreakfanparty @entr4p3 @warmdragonfly @clementine111002 @azriel-shadowsingerr @amiime @anuttellaa @loulou0101 @acourtofbatboydreams @xmalfoyweasleyx @anna-reader-blog @melmo567 @buttermilktea11 @helo1281917 @thelov3lybookworm @cazrielsfairygf @hanatsuki-hime @st4r-girl-official @feiwelinchen @fhgsvbnh
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ssahotchnerr · 11 months
Note
ALSO ALSO ALSO, Aaron keeping a pair of readers fuzzy socks in his go-bag for reader when a case is rough/they’re in a super cold area/just because 🤭🤭🤭
perfect pair
SCREAMING i'm setting this in the alaska episode it's the first thing my mind went to <33 cw; bau!reader, established relationship, fluff!!!!!
even with the burning fire going, countless chills continuously rushed through your body; you were shaking in place.
upon receiving word the case was in alaska, the customary temperature had been an afterthought. sure, you had packed (some of) your winter trappings; long sleeves, a heavy lined coat, boots. but you hadn't thought to layer, pack a set of gloves or a hat, wool socks rather than your usual cotton ones. rather, the excitement of purely being able to say you're going to alaska, of all places, had taken priority.
even today as you were getting dressed, you managed to talk aaron into lending you one of his favored quarter-zips. 'talk into' was a loose term, he hadn't needed the persuasion; you asked, he immediately accepted - never the one to deny you wearing his clothing, or the extra, provided warmth.
on the bright side, however, you had been hunkered down at the inn with penelope, researching the residents of the small town and not needing to brace the cold. but you might as well been, the heat coming through the air vents wasn't nearly enough, especially when the door frequently opened and the cold air drifted in. the fire was slowly weakening, and just thinking about the cold, made you freezing. the lingering frigidness was numbing your feet within your shoes, your fingers were just as biting - the bitterness was painful.
you were counting down the minutes until the day ended, eager to be warm in the comfort of bed, curled up with aaron 'the furnace' hotchner - the best perk of minimal rooms available and having to double-up. the two of you didn't typically share quarters while on the job, wanting to uphold professionalism, so this was a welcomed treat.
but when aaron had entered (and brought yet another rush of crisp air with him) to regroup with you and penelope, to discuss findings that would contribute to the profile, and hopefully narrow your search down, all he had to do was take one look of you shivering.
aaron walked behind the couch you were seated at, his hand finding your shoulder and giving it a squeeze hello, before heading up the stairs. at the gesture, you were quick to look up and acknowledge him, giving him a soft smile before your attention returned to penelope's screen.
aaron came back down a minute or two later, lightly tossing something onto your lap. it landed softly, but you still jumped a smidge, taking you by surprise.
you were met with your polka-dot fuzzy socks, a pair you hadn't seen in your drawer quite in a while, actually. your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity, grabbing the soft sherpa material and turning the pair over, analyzing as if you've never seen them before.
"you had these?" your eyes shot back up to aaron, arching an eyebrow in an accusatory, but playful, manner. the ends of your lips tugged upwards in a smile, your heart warming.
"given the circumstances, i'm sure you're glad i did." aaron's face matched your cheeky expression, a light smirk on his face. but he dropped the teasing demeanor, his gentleness returning, "i packed them into my go-bag a while ago. i figured they come in handy in one way or another, at some point. for comfort, warmth, when your ice cold feet touch my leg at night." his eyes smiled at you, and you couldn't help but grin.
aaron's immense, loving look was enough to melt everything in you, physically warming you. the sensation started in the middle of your chest, fanning out to the rest of your body, leaving you toasty and almost giddy.
forget the socks, layers, fireplace - all you needed was aaron.
"god that's adorable." penelope chimed in, who had been listening so quietly you'd forgotten she was there, a slight whine present in her voice, "never thought i'd be crying over a pair of socks, but here we are."
she turned back to her laptop, but her fingers paused above the keyboard, as thought came to her. her gaze drifted back towards you and aaron, a tickled glint in her eyes. "wait, i take that back. you two are the most, adorable pair."
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zombiecheri · 10 months
Text
A Girl And A Samurai
pairing: mizu x fem!reader
tags: slight dubcon?, reader is drunk, mizu is a bit tipsy, thigh riding, fingering, mizu does a knee thing, grinding, neck kisses, neck bites, teasing, fluff
A/N: here's the second part finally! It's nsfw as you can tell from the tags so 18+ please. Hope you enjoy. It will have one more chapter after this.
chapter 1
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Chapter 2
On the fifth day you both found a small inn and decided to stay overnight instead of spending yet another night shivering out in the woods by the small campfire. You told her you'd cover the cost and mizu nodded, leaving you standing in the middle of an inn as she sat down on an empty spot ordering soba and glancing in your direction with a questioning look. You shook your head and went up the stairs to your shared room not feeling hungry.
That's how you ended up sitting on a tatami with a bottle of sake in front of you as you took sips from the cup trying to run away from your own thoughts.
From that day where you got to know her name, you two got closer and the more you got to know her more your mind started drifting away noticing small details about her that made your head heavy with thoughts and heart full of feelings that you were scared to address.
The way her eyes softened whenever she shared memories about her swordfather, bits and pieces from her childhood, her deep, raspy voice that send chills down your spine and how surprisingly kind she was despite her somewhat fearsome appearance.
And those lips, that slight curve at the edge of her mouth and mirth in her ocean eyes whenever you shared some silly memory from your past made you go weak in the knees, made your face red and left you a stuttering mess.
So you drank. Downed a cup and then another and another to forget it. Forget the feelings that weren't supposed to be there. Drowning in sake until you couldn't think at all.
She found you like that after she returned in the room with nearly half the bottle empty and you sitting on the bed not meeting her eyes choosing to look down at the floor instead.
Mizu wasn't a fool, she noticed the way you were looking at her, noticed how easily you got flustered everytime she smiled at you and despite herself she grew interested. Intrigued at the possibility of what lay underneath that kind appearance and charming smile. You were somewhat of a puzzle and she realized she wanted to solve it, to understand you better. As easy as it was to fluster you, you carried yourself with such dignity she hadn't seen in other women before. At least not in women of your status. It was mindless, carrying yourself in such manner in a place like this where any men could easily take advantage of you at any given moment but even despite that, she was curious.
She decided to push your buttons a little bit to sate that curiosity. Or maybe she was just bored. Either way, there wasn't much to do on a road so she'd try to pass time to see how much she could tease you and it seemed that you've finally reached your limit at last.
"Where did you get that bottle?" Her ocean eyes narrowed at the half empty bottle before settling on your form, eyebrow raising in question.
Mizu's words shook you out of your trance and you finally looked at her, eyes following her as she sat down on a chair in front of you.
"I had it with me" your voice was surprisingly steady considering how much you've drank but fortunately, or not in your case, you could handle the alcohol quite well so it didn't manage to get you as drunk as you'd hoped. More like, she interrupted you before you could do it.
Your plans to drown your feelings with alcohol didn't work out. She was right in front of you and there was nowhere to run - from your thoughts or from her. Not that you hoped you could outrun her at all. Nowhere to go, nowhere else to stay. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to drink on the road but it was too late to dwell on that, you supposed.
You let out a sigh and tried to stand up and stumbled the world spinning around but before you could fall mizu's hands were on you firmly holding you in place.
Perhaps you did manage to get drunk after all, you wondered as the world continued to dance and spin and twirl. You felt like you were spinning along with it.
You didn't want to look up, you couldn't, but she didn't let go and curiosity won so you peaked a glance behind your lashes and instantly regretted it.
Mizu was looking down at you with that familiar curve at the edge of her mouth and amused glint in her icy blue eyes and you understood in that moment why she hid them behind the tinted glasses all the time (besides hiding her obvious mixed heritage). Her eyes were so expressive and you were going to drown in them.
No, you were already drowning. You couldn't breathe, couldn't blink as the world continued twisting and her face was so close.
When did she get so close?
Her breath smelled faintly of alcohol and it seemed you weren't the only one who was drinking. Maybe, some distant parts of your mind wondered, she was also running away from something. Or someone.
Ah, your thoughts were wandering off again and her face was getting blurry. You blinked and let out a breath you were holding in, then you leaned forward. Mizu's eyes were so pretty you could get lost in them forever. Her eyes widened a bit and the hand holding you, let go. You didn't like it so did something unthinkable, something that if you were sober you'd probably have regretted doing.
You reached for her. Your fingers traced the soft skin of her cheek, feeling the warmth of her breath against your skin. You saw her eyes narrowing in suspicion? Or something else, you couldn't tell at the moment.
"what are you do-"
Before she could finish the sentence your lips were on hers, soft and warm against her rough mouth. And it seemed that world finally stopped spinning.
Kiss didn't even last few seconds before she was pulling away - from your soft mouth, your wandering hands and from you.
Regret suddenly crashed into you like a wave, settling uncomfortably in your stomach and you tried to think of something to make her stay, to not turn her back on you and leave you in this inn. Would one kiss make her run away? Probably not, but you couldn't face the shame and embarrassment of that, couldn't face her after she rejected your advances so blatantly. What could you say to make you feel less like a mess? Sorry I thought you wanted to kiss me? Sorry, I misunderstood the situation? Sorry, I was drunk?
stupid girl
You couldn't even look at her but before your drunken mind could come up with an explanation her hand was on your wrist. Mizu's warm fingers were holding you tightly and suddenly you were the one pulling away. You didn't understand.
You didn't..
And in the next moment, she was pulling you closer, into her arms, into her warmth, her lips against yours and time seemed to stop at once.
Your pulse panicked, stuttering to a halt and tried and tried to start again. Heart was beating against your ribcage with such ferocity your mind felt dazed.
While your kiss was soft and tender, a slight touch of lips, a whisper - hers was bruising, demanding, almost as if she tried to devour you. It was not a warm kiss. It was all-consuming. A warm breeze against a ranging storm if you were to compare.
Mizu swallowed your gasp and the next one and licked her tongue inside your mouth that sent a pulse through you forming a knot in the lower part of your stomach.
You got lost in the taste of her, her smell and the feel of her hand on your waist. She made a sound then, not a gasp but not a groan either, mix of a two perhaps and that noise did something. You chanted her name against her lips as you tangled your hands in mizu's kimono trying to steady yourself on your shaky legs, pulling her closer and closer until there was not a space left between you, until you were molded together like a statue and you felt like you were being pulled underwater and searing up high in the sky all at once.
You weren't unfamiliar with the heat and lust and your hands between your legs easing that tension, that burning need, reaching the high and left shaking and satisfied afterwards, but you had never experienced it to the extreme, to this extent, to the point where you couldn't breathe.
You remembered then. To breathe.
You pulled away and took a deep breath to dive right back in, kissing back just as hard, hands clutching the kimono so tightly as if she'd disappear if you let go. You didn't know what it was to be kissed like that.
Mizu was spinning you around then, your back against her front, her knee coming up between your legs and making you gasp. Her hands were traveling up your body, warm fingers tracing the patterns on your kimono before sliding inside and finding your breasts.
You let out another gasp, legs shaky as her fingers brushed against your hardened nipples, her knee keeping you steady and suddenly Mizu was turning you around again taking few steps back dropping down on the chair and pulling you down, on her.
Your legs parted, your kimono loose and you sat on her thigh as she continued to devour your mouth in a franzy and then moved lower. To your cheekbones, to your neck. Found a pulse point there and bit down and you let out a choked moan head falling limply against her shoulder.
She smiled against your skin and shifted her leg the motion making her thigh brush against the spot that got your head spinning. You suddenly felt shy. Your head buried in her shoulder hiding your flaming cheeks and muffling your gasps and moans.
"you okay there?" Mizu chuckled, but she wasn't as unaffected as she tried to seem. Even in your drunken state you could hear the slight edge to her raspy voice, feel the light tremble of her long, slender fingers wandering on your body freely.
The voice did something to you still, lightening up whatever nerve center controlled your body and not your mind and heat pooled between your legs and became nearly unbearable so you grinded down hard on her thigh and felt her wandering hands against your waist coming to a halt.
You didn't feel shy anymore. You felt starved, desperate. You wanted more.
you needed more
She let out a startled sound and you swallowed it and then another and suddenly roles were reversed. You were the one reaching for her, hands roaming on her body, sliding under her loose kimono feeling the bindings wrapped around her chest. You continued grinding down and the tension raised. Your mouth found hers again locking in a hungry kiss battling for dominance as her frozen hands finally slid down your body, her fingers brushing against your bare thighs and stopping there. Teasing.
"Mizu" you let out a desperate huff, meeting her eyes and she laughed, her knee raising intentionally to brush against your damp spot not quite enough to sate the lust but enough to make you crave more.
Your lips found her neck and you were biting down hard making her laugh get stuck in the throat until it turned into a strangled moan as you sucked and licked, her hand gripping your waist almost painfully, but you didn't really mind. If anything, it made you crave her more.
Mizu stopped teasing you then, her fingers running up and up on your thigh until they found the dampness, pushing the fabric away and sliding inside your heat without warning.
"fucking brat" she sighed in your ear and the world was starting to shift and crack again as she continued pumping her trembling fingers.
in and out, in and out
In a steady rhythm, sliding as deep inside as she could reach before pulling them almost completely out of you, occasionally rubbing against your clit and the tightness was growing and you were going to..
you were going to-
Her voice, her smell, her breath against your skin, her words. You were overwhelmed, your head was spinning, your eyes were losing focus. Something about the way she said it, something about that tone, that deep and raspy sound...
Then you were spiralling.
Your body jerked and you grabbed her for support as the feeling wracked through you, hands trembling, your eyes closing shut orgasm overtaking you sending almost painful waves of pleasure like shockwaves throughout your body. You clamped down hard against her fingers and she slid them out completely after your body stopped spasming.
"Fuck" you murmured against her neck but it didn't quite cover it.
"Fuck" she agreed and adjusted her kimono.
Your world shifted into focus after your trembling eased a bit and you noticed how your wetness left a damp spot on her thigh wondering if she had another kimono to wear. You were watching her as she tied her hair and wondering when it got untangled before your gaze settled on her face. On her eyes.
"let me return the favor" you whispered, your hands already reaching for mizu before she stopped you and shook her head. She did something then that made your cheeks aflame.
Mizu brought the fingers covered in your release to her face inspecting them, giving it an experimental lick before she put them in her mouth tasting you as her gaze never left yours while doing it. Her blue eyes were twinkling with mischief that familiar smirk in place.
Oh.
Where did she learn to do that? You wondered, your cheeks hot.
"maybe another time, yeah?" she smiled and you nodded your head planting a shy kiss at the edge of her mouth before you were sliding away from her lap, adjusting your own kimono.
another time
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shadowdaddies · 5 months
Note
Being mated to Azriel/Cassian/Nesta. Az and Cass are away, visiting some Illyrian camps, and whenever they are away, you all have agreed that you’re free use for Nesta?
hii thank you for the request, I've been slow with them lately and hating everything I write but I hope you like this! I got carried away here
Mine All Mine
Nesta x f!Reader smut (ft. Cassian and Azriel)
warnings: pure smut, free use, oral f!receiving, masturbation, gagging/toys, d/s dynamics
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“Be good for us while we’re gone, sweetheart,” Cassian purred, flashing a roguish grin that forced heat to your cheeks under his gaze.
Azriel leaned in, arms wrapping you in a gentle embrace as his lips brushed yours, the tender moment at odds with the words that followed.
“She’ll be good, Cassian. Our girl knows she is solely responsible for Nesta’s pleasure while we’re away.” His voice maintained its smooth calmness, but the shadowsinger’s grin turned vulpine as a scarred finger curled under your chin. “You’ll take care of Nesta while we’re gone, won’t you, angel?”
It was an agreement the four of your had as mates. While Cassian and Azriel were gone, you were responsible for Nesta’s pleasure, and she for yours. She could take you at any time she wanted to get what she needed from you, and you relinquished complete control over your own pleasure to her.
You nodded at Azriel, embarrassed at the rush of heat that built between your thighs at his words. Two sets of hazel eyes simmered with desire at the scent of your arousal drifting through the room. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, lower lip tugged between your teeth.
Cassian was the first to break the tension, clearing his throat before mumbling something about being late to their meeting in Windhaven. Azriel slowly drew his finger from your chin, his intense gaze as he did so sending a shiver down your spine.
“We will see you very soon, angel,” he promised, the side of his lip curving to show a dimple before the two Illyrians disappeared through the door, the sound of their wings beating as they took off echoing through the air.
The house instantly felt empty, a restlessness settling over you at the quiet. Your mind drifted to the things Nesta would do to you when she returned home - the ways she would use you for her pleasure, push you to the limits of your own - and slick dampened your thighs, core clenching around nothing.
Face flushed, you shook the shameful thoughts from your mind in favor of distraction. A book caught your eye, resting on the couch in front of the fireplace in invitation. 
Picking up the novel, you collapsed against the soft cushions before peering at the cover. It must have been one of Nesta’s books, a Sellyn Drake novel like those she’d been trying to get you to read for awhile now. 
Pulling a throw pillow under your head, you flipped open the book, quickly finding yourself lost in the story. You had no idea how long you’d been reading when the two main characters found themselves in an inn with only one bed to share. You read of hands slipping between thighs, light teasing touches, gasps at the exquisite pleasure being exchanged.
You found that heat building between your own thighs once again, desire making it difficult to focus on the book. Tugging your lip between your teeth, you set the novel to the side, freeing your hands to explore.
Brushing your nipples through your shirt, you mewled with need when your hand drifted lower, featherlight touches teasing yourself as you slipped beneath the waistband of your pants. 
“Enjoying the book, pet?” a familiar voice drawled from the doorway, sending a chill down your spine and halting your movements. Your wide eyes flicked to where Nesta leaned by the wall, arms crossed and silver eyes glowing with amusement.
Breathless, you watched her stride toward you on long legs, her leathers hugging her curves. “Which part were you reading?” she murmured, limbs stretching across the couch as her body settled over yours.
Nesta’s hands pulled your own from where it rested on your lower abdomen, her eyes focused keenly on you while you stumbled through the plot of the book. Just as you began to recount the scene at the inn, Nesta popped your fingers in her mouth, licking and sucking fervently while she nodded for you to continue.
Somehow managing to breathe out the steamy details to Nesta - despite her lips around your fingers, hips grinding against yours while she straddled you - you loosed a sigh of relief when she relented her efforts in favor of releasing you. 
Standing for only a moment, Nesta stripped off her pants and turned away from you, showing off her perfect ass as she did. You started to lean forward, eager to meet Nes where she stood, but the female clicked her tongue in disapproval.
“Lay back, love. Stay still for me,” Nesta purred, flashing a grin over her shoulder as she settled above your face. The scent of her arousal was dizzying, the need to please her consuming your thoughts.
As though she could sense your desperation, Nesta hummed a “good girl” before sinking down onto you. Slick core pressed against your nose, her clit perched perfectly atop your mouth for your tongue to flick out against the swollen bud.
Her hips rolled against you on instinct, a soft moan escaping Nesta’s lips at your mouth on her. “Just like that, pet,” she breathed, hands pulling your still-soaked digits towards your heat. “Touch yourself while I read this.”
Picking up your book, Nes began to read the scenes you described, her wetness growing and spreading sloppily across your face as you ate her out. One hand wrapped around her waist, encouraging the rhythm of her hips against your lips, while the other followed her directions to your clit, rubbing tight circles that made your legs jerk against the couch in ecstasy. 
You felt Nesta’s core clench, her hips shaking as she moaned your name, dropping the book when her orgasm rocked through her. The scent of her invaded your senses, weight settling fully over you as you released muffled cries against her warm center, your own high crashing into you. 
Panting for air, you sighed with relief and longing at the loss of her heat on your face. Eyes struggled to focus, finally finding Nesta’s gaze on yours as she lifted your fingers to her mouth once more and licked your release clean.
“I need more,” Nes nearly growled, a wolfish grin formed on her full lips. “I’m not done with you tonight,” she promised, heat dancing in her eyes like flame when her hand wrapped around your wrist. “Come with me.”
You followed dutifully back up to your bedroom, stripping as directed before laying back on the mattress and watching Nesta undress. 
“I got something new for us, love. To use when the boys are gone,” she explained, rifling through her nightstand before pulling out a strap with a dildo attached to the end. But this one was different from Nesta’s strap; it was simple and black with one buckle around the back.
Sensing your confusion, Nesta grinned wickedly. “This one is for you to wear, sweet girl,” she purred, bare hips straddling your own as she lifted the toy to your mouth to demonstrate. “If that’s okay,” she amended, laughing when you eagerly nodded and lifted your head for her to secure the gag.
“So good for me,” Nesta cooed, golden brown hair falling down in a curtain around her as she smiled down at you. “I just need you to lay there and take it for now.”
Hips settled over the toy perched on your mouth, Nesta’s puffy center spreading her slick over the tip before sinking down. You moaned through the gag at the sight, your mate filled up and bending over to hover your core. Gentle hands spread your thighs before Nesta dove in without warning, tongue making wicked movements against your clit as she began bouncing up and down on your face.
Helpless moans and squeals escaped you, sounds drowned out by the toy covering your face. “Just wait and see, love, what I have in store for us this week,” Nesta moaned, perked nipples brushing your stomach. “This is only the beginning.”
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༉‧˚📖❀༉‧₊˚."the craving"༉‧˚🤍❀༉‧₊˚.PART 2
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Read Part 1 here 🤍
pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader
words: 7200
summary: After your night at the inn, the tensions between you and your betrothed Jacaerys are running high. Finding yourself curious about the kind of lascivious literature your prince has been reading, you decide to go on the search yourself - with pleasant consequences for the both of you…
warnings: pining, the return of the infamous Targaryen kamasutra diary, oral sex (female receiving), making out, handjob, aftercare, cuddling
a/n: there is going to be a third and final part after this one <3 let me know what you think, I always love to chat and thank you for the love Part 1 got!
𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃
You had always loved the library of Dragonstone.
The endless shelves bursting at the seams with history provided a peace and quiet you sometimes found lacking in your life, especially recently with the dark shadow of war looming over your family.
As you wandered through the many narrow passages between the books, you felt your mind calm down. With only the distant sound of the wind outside and a few busy scribes working around you, you dedicated yourself to your mission of the day.
You were not going to leave the library empty handed, not before you’d found what you desired; the mysterious diary Jacaerys had spoken of, in the night back at the inn…
The truth was simple, yet tangled and slowly driving you to the brink of your sanity; every night since your return to Dragonstone, you found yourself unable to sleep, at the brim of madness. Memories of Jacaerys and you, pressed against each other in the small bed as he slowly took you apart with his fingers and lips, haunted you.
You wondered if it only had been a desired dream, since your betrothed had gone back to being sickeningly sweet and attentive to you after your return. Jacaerys had taken most of his mother’s blow and the angered worry for the both of you, defending his choice to keep you safe through the night in front of the Queen’s entire council.
Standing beside him, your cheeks had been undeniably red as he had recounted the night of the storm, purposefully leaving out the part where he had fingered you to a mind-blowing orgasm, of course.
After the questioning, you two had fallen back into the same old dance and its rhythm as if your feelings for one another still had to be suppressed. But perhaps being sweet and chivalrous was Jace’s own method to keep himself under control before your long-desired union.
After all, you certainly did not have such methods for yourself.
The late hours in your chambers had been spent staring at the ceiling and listening to the waves crashing against Dragonstone. Tossing and turning, you had only been able to imagine the ghost of his touches on your skin, over and over, until you had to either firmly press your legs together or rarely indulge in your own wild imagination and the world of pleasure Jacaerys had opened up for you…
Since his quarters were close to yours, you couldn’t help but wonder if the same frustration sought him out at night and if he dreamed about your lips on his, your wetness on his veiny hand as he touched your most intimate part…
You took a deep breath and focused once again, traveling along the shelf where diaries and old reports were stored. A pleasant burn rested in your stomach, knowing Jace might’ve stood in the exact same place as you or would even return here to find that his precious book had been taken…
You grinned as your fingers drifted over a particular bound spine, a victorious flutter going through your chest as you noticed the lack of dust on it, although someone had seemed to hide it in the second row.
This was going to be a very interesting evening.
A little later, you were back in your quarters, curled up in the cozy velvet armchair by the high windows and completely absorbed in the book resting on your lap.
The diary you had hidden underneath your cloak on your journey back was open, a well-kept secret of your family now in your hands. In the privacy of your own four walls, you silently thanked your prince for his erudition as your eyes darted across the old rough pages.
You quickly discovered that the diary had been written by a nameless female ancestor of yours, her old ink writing elegant but faded. Her entries stretched themselves over nearly two decades, starting with her very first intimate encounter with a man and continuing to describe the adventures of her youth until she eventually found her forever love.
At the bottom of the very first page, she had scribbled: to all the princesses after me and their princes who should do good to take proper care of them. The little dedication made you smile.
Soon, you had begun to devour each entry without even noticing, the thrill of knowing Jace’s fingers had turned the same pages only spurring you on in your eagerness. And this diary was certainly…something.
It was lustful and forbidden and very, very detailed. You nearly choked on your own breath once as your dear ancestor had not spared any sexual details in her vivid descriptions, the stories sometimes accompanied by tasteful sketches of what her tumbling had looked like. You had never seen anything like it and soon, you found yourself squeezing your thighs together with your heart pounding in excitement.
Your thoughts wandered away from the current story and imagined how Jace must’ve felt reading those filthy passages. In front of your inner eye, you saw him sprawled out in his bed, dark curls resting on the pillows and his face brightened by the candles on his bedside table.
Had he been as aroused as you were feeling now?
In the inn, he had told you all he could’ve imagined while reading was you and your cheeks burned with realization, possessing the full knowledge of what he had meant back then. Did he find relief for himself when it had become too much, clinging to the book with one hand as the other slowly played with himself underneath the blankets? Did he whisper your name, squeezing his beautiful eyes shut as he-
A knock at your door sharply cut through the silence and you startled, nearly dropping your precious reading matter. Quickly, you cursed and put it back on the small table beside you, brushing out your skirts and taking a deep breath.
“Yes?”
Your heart skipped a beat as the door opened and Jacaerys peeked into your room, a small worried frown on his youthful face. “Good evening. Are you alright?”
You nodded, gesturing for him to come inside. Your betrothed closed the door behind himself and walked up to you as your eyes began to travel on their own, over the red and black of his attires, his dark curls lush and glossy in the candlelight of your room.
“I was worried about you.” Jace confessed to you, raising your hand to his plump lips and kissing the knuckles in greeting. This was a new habit of his and you were not complaining, although the small gesture always made you weak in the knees. “We missed you at dinner. I brought you something to eat, in case you weren’t feeling well.”
Only now you realized how dark the sky behind your windows had gotten already. Gods, how much time had you already spent with this book?
Your chest warmed at the sight of a well-filled plate in his hand, presenting everything he knew you liked from the kitchens. With a grateful smile, you admitted: “Thank you. I’m alright, I simply must’ve forgotten the time. I was…occupied.”
Jace raised an amused eyebrow at your odd explanation, placing the plate on the table, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Shall I leave you to it then?”
“No.” You answered quickly, your heart already longing for him although he was right in front of you. “I’d love some company. We’ve both been busy lately.”
Lately. Ever since the night of the storm, but you had not talked about the events at the inn since then.
Jacaerys let out a small – relieved? – sigh at your answer and the two of you sat down in the armchairs, your stomach growling at the variety of food your betrothed had organized for you. After a moment, you lifted your gaze to his and added quietly: “I missed you.” And it was true in more than one way.
“I missed you, too.” He replied in a heartbeat and watched you peacefully as you began to eat. The unexpected dinner was a wonderful treat after a long day like this, but it was not enough to distract you from the fact that you had not really been alone like this ever since that night. “I have not been neglecting you on purpose, I promise. You are way too dear to me for that.”
You looked at him with big eyes, quietly munching on a small sweetmeat as you shook your head. “I was not thinking such a thing, Jace. I know how busy your day is, now more than ever. Has your mother fully forgiven you by now?”
As you had foreseen, Rhaenyra had been out of her mind with worry when you had not returned as appointed and had given her son a very stern talk right in the dragon’s cave where you had eventually arrived at with your dragons. (The more you thought about it, the more you wondered if your dragons would’ve been able to take the late flight back to Dragonstone that night. If their sudden change of behavior – your own creature more affectionate towards Jace and Vermax oddly cuddly with you - could be any indicator, you almost suspected your beasts had somehow made a pact with each other to bring you closer…)
Jace sighed and rested his head against the back of his armchair. “I try to make it up to her every day, believe me. But if thrown into a situation like this again, I would not choose any different. I’d always choose you. Us, together and safe.”
“I’d choose the same.” You whispered breathily, your heart singing way too fast for an innocent confession between betrotheds like this. Underneath your conversation, something desiring and dark slumbered, only waiting for the right moment to jump out and remind you of your spent time between the sheets together. You swallowed, quietly adding: “You protected me that night, from the storm and my own reckless decision I would’ve made and I am grateful for it. I have told the Queen so myself.”
“I know.” He gave you a soft smile, the one that was only reserved for you, his princess. “I think deep down she has forgiven me already. She just likes to see me working even harder these days.”
You chuckled, taking a bite of a ripe strawberry with relish. When you looked up again, Jace’s eyes already were on your lips, how they curled around the sweet fruit and your tongue darted out to lick the juice from your fingertips, his dark pupils blown wide, body tense.
Suddenly, the dress on you felt way too tight for your body, your senses widening under his intense stare. But just like that, the moment was over and Jacaerys cleared his throat, causing you to go back to your dinner.
You wanted to curse yourself for your own timidness. You had shared far more than a space like this before your betrothed knew how you tasted and felt on his fingers and even before your wedding night had happened. So why were you so flustered out of the sudden?
In an unobservant moment, Jace casually reached for the book on your table and your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. You were helpless to watch as his eyes widened shortly with recognition, looking intently at the subtle cover.
“This is…” You had no idea how you wanted to end this sentence.
Jacaerys opened the diary right where you had placed a soft ribbon between the pages, his eyes skimming over the page before he looked up at you with a sly grin. “Ah. One of my favorite chapters.”
Oh gods.
Both embarrassment and excitement pulsed through you as heat crept up your neck at his knowing smile.
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He asked adoringly, his fingertips softly tracing the ribbon. “Was my description not vivid enough so you simply had to find out for yourself, to see if I lied?”
You proudly lifted your chin, trying to feign confidence and ignore the shaking of your hands at his look fueled with unfiltered desire.
“Of course you have not lied to me. You were way too…” You bit your lip, your mind traveling back to the way he skillfully crooked his fingers against your sweet spot, dirty words leaving his heavenly mouth as he praised you… You cleared your throat, brushing your hands out over your skirts. “I knew you weren’t lying, but I had to see for myself. For…educational purposes.”
Jace nodded slowly and hummed thoughtfully. “I knew you were curious…” He leaned forward and offered you the book back. A notch confused, you took the diary from his hands, the old clothbound almost familiar already in your grasp. “And believe me, I am not here to interrupt your education tonight, princess.”
A low fire sizzled through you at the mischievous smile he gave you. It was a smile you couldn’t resist and you prayed you knew what this meant for you tonight. After all, you were going to be Jacaerys’ wife, sooner rather than later, and he was going to be your husband. You blinked at him innocently before you reclined against the pillow in your back, your fingers brushing over the golden edges of the diary.
“How considerate of you, my prince.” You said sweetly and a quiet exhale left Jace’s lips, clearly affected by your playful undertone. “Maybe we can learn together. That is, if my betrothed doesn’t have any other plans for the night?”
A dazzling grin made its way on Jacaerys’ face and with an elegance only the prince could possess, he leaned back against his armchair as well. He gestured invitingly to the diary in your hands and nodded at you encouragingly. “By all means, go on.”
Gods, in what situation were the two of you stirring yourselves into once again?
You forced yourself to remain composed in front of him, opening the book once more and beginning to read. But you only managed to drift over a few words before Jacaerys’ voice cut through the comfortable silence of the room and your head snapped up.
"Out loud." He said, simple yet demanding, his eyes burning embers sending a shiver down your spine.
"W-what?" Your voice sounded thin, perhaps a little intimidated but also...intrigued by your betrothed's command. The look in his eyes was the same he executed in the council room, sharp and attentive and willing to fight for what was his.
"I want to hear your voice." He explained, softer now. "Please read to me, princess."
You stared at him and the heat from before in your rosy cheeks started to spread like dragon fire, claiming your entire being. The dress on you felt way too tight and although you were not wearing your clammy riding leathers anymore, the same tension had now taken possession over you. And it was all because of the prince seated across from you.
Jace rested his chin in the palm of his hand, licking his plump lips as he kept your eyes captive with his own. After a moment, he nodded, a small encouragement you needed to return to the page in front of you.
With your finger ghosting over the soft ribbon, you began to read:
“When I met him that night, it was like our previous encounters from before had vanished, leaving me alone with my carnal desire…” You read to him, feeling him shift in his seat just outside of your vision. “The prince has been kind to me before, but as the hours went by and our wine glasses emptied, there was something else in his eyes, something I felt wanted to devour me and make me his. Taking him into my bed was inevitable and we both knew it.”
It was scandalous and wrong, to speak such lewd thoughts out loud with your betrothed right before your very eyes, but something made you continue, your voice growing stronger as you carried on.
“I was not aware of my own body like this until he made me, taking my hand in his own and showing me what I was capable of…” You swallowed thickly, the words hitting way too close to home. “Like he was painting flowers on my skin, my body bloomed under his touch and awakened me as if I had only slept my life away before…”
You thought of the rain splattering against the window, how Jacaerys had undressed you and how right it had felt to let yourself be kissed by him, your bodies melting together underneath the blanket until you had forgotten where you began and he ended. There had been safety back then and you knew there was safety in this moment as well, your Jace a steady and relying presence by your side.
“He surprised me, in more than one way, but what surprised me the most was when he went on his knees for me…” You lifted your head at the sound of fabric rustling and breathed out shakingly as you watched Jace stand up from his chair and kneel down in front of yours, looking up at you with his lips slightly open.
“What are you doing?” You whispered breathlessly.
“You’ve read this chapter before?” He asked back, gulping.
You nodded slowly, not able to look away from his pretty eyes. “Twice. It is written quite…poetically.”
Jace chuckled, easing your nerves as he softly stroked your naked ankle. Scandalous, indeed. “So you know how the story goes, my love?”
Gods, he was going to be the death of you.
“Yes…” You whispered, not trusting your voice anymore.
“If you’d allow me, I’d like to give you the same pleasure.” Jace proposed slowly, his voice a little hoarse. “I-…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since we shared a bed. I try to be…a good betrothed, but every night I close my eyes, I still hear your sweet voice, I feel your body against mine and it’s driving me mad with want.”
You were shaking as you leaned forward and cupped his cheek with one hand, successfully making him halt in his confessional ramble. Softly, you stroked along his smooth cheek with your thumb as he melted into the loving gesture. “Jacaerys…Why do you think I wanted to find the diary like you did? If you declare yourself mad, then we are both out of our minds. I have been thinking about you too as I was reading. You are all I can think about and I desire to be with you again.”
He looked at you like you were the sun, the whole world to him. “So you’d let me…?”
You nodded fiercely, your finger drifting over his cheekbone and his bottom lip. You exhaled softly as he pressed a quick kiss to the pad of your fingertip. “I trust you. I know you’ll take good care of me.”
“I will, always.” Jace vowed and took your hand in his once again, this time lifting your bare wrist to his mouth and softly kissing it, making you sigh longingly. Then, he gently led it back to the book in your lap and smiled at you. “Read to me, princess.”
You cleared your throat, trying to push all nerves away from you as you continued with the story.
“I was overly aware of his presence between my thighs, soothing yet commanding as he slowly unwrapped me, a prize he had dutifully won with his chivalrous affections…” You read and tried not to squirm as Jace slowly began to lift your light skirts, exposing your naked legs to the warm air of your chamber. You felt his hot breath fan over your sensitive skin, goosebumps rising in his wake. When his knuckles brushed along your calf, you bit your lip, suppressing a small groan.
“What happens next?” Jace wanted to know, his voice warm and deep and lulling you into a certain headspace. Briefly, your eyes met as he exposed your knees and with a sigh, your legs opened, making space for whatever he planned for you. And oh, how you knew what he planned and how much it affected you already, knowing exactly what was going to happen…
“He took his time and ignored my pleas, relishing every little buck of my hips as he neared the sacred place where I desired him the m-most-“ You faltered as you felt his lips on your knee, one single featherlight kiss before he moved on to the other leg, repeating his actions.
His hands brushed appreciatively over your skirts and higher and higher they went until you heard him exhale in awe. “You’re as beautiful as I remember…May I?”
“Yes.” You lifted your hips, assisting him in his efforts to get your skirt out of the way, but just as you lost yourself in the sight of him on your knees for you, he admonished you with a single look and nodded to the diary between you. You laughed quietly, your head spinning from the sensation of his hand stroking up and down your leg. “I believe I might’ve gotten betrothed to a devil instead of a prince.”
“A devil wouldn’t do what I want to do to you, princess.” He murmured, his warm palms now resting on your thighs, oh so gently drawing little patterns into your skin.
You soldiered on bravely, although it was getting harder to think when he spoke to you like this. “I was no stranger to the secret pleasures happening behind closed doors, but with him, I felt like I have never truly known them. He looked at me like I was his personal meal at a feast and he was a man that has been starving, desperate for- oh!”
You stumbled over your words, a hiss escaping your lips as his knuckles suddenly brushed along the damp fabric of your underwear. The sensation of his touch on the wet spot over your folds sent a sharp shiver down your spine and the glassy look in Jace’s eyes, fixated on your clothed center in front of him, did not help to ease the tension in you.
“For?” Jacaerys repeated dazed, licking his lips before he softly mouthed at your naked thighs, the muscles quivering underneath his sweet assault.
“For her.” You exhaled, but he only cocked his eyebrow at you.
“Come on, princess, you know the word she uses.” He tempted you teasingly, lazily reaching out and tracing a circle over your soaked-
“Her cunt-“ You breathed out, sweat gathering on your brow as your mind rushed down your body, making it harder and harder to concentrate on the diary in your hand. Your eyes fluttered closed as he peppered kisses along your inner thighs and his curls tickled your smooth skin.
Distantly, you felt his fingers unlace the little ribbons on the side of your underwear, gently exposing your heavenly center to him for the very first time. You heard him groan under his breath, his imagination during your first encounter underneath the blanket exceeded by the sweet reality of your weeping cunt for him.
“Princess…” He hummed absently, shuffling closer to you, his eyes flickering back and forth between your wet rosy folds and your half-lidded eyes. “I want to know how the story continues, don’t you?”
A tiny whimper left your lips as you tried to make sense of the words in front of you with Jacaerys so close to where you needed him so desperately now. “My cunt was a flower blooming under his attention and with each touch of his, another leaf seemed to blossom, making me f-forget myself and…gods, Jace, please-“
Finally giving in to your pleas, Jace pressed a kiss to your aching clit and set you aflame with it.
A surprised gasp left your lips as your hips twitched on their own and you dug your fingers into the armrest by your side. Your taste only barely grazed his lips, yet Jace groaned and rested his forehead against your thigh for a moment, taking a deep breath to compose himself while he stroked the soft flesh under your belly.
Jace slowly lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders – the way he had often dreamed about – and nudged you to continue, his burning gaze not separating from your pink pussy.
 “His tongue licked fire into me, unforgiving and merciless at my open whimpers and when I thought the pleasure I felt could not ascend more, he proved me wrong-“ You bit down hard on your lip as he dove in again, kissing your folds and clit like he had kissed your blue lips at the inn, experimental and delicately and forbiddenly good. “-and pushed me further, beyond the veil and further.”
“Gods, you taste divine…” Jace murmured against you, his tongue darting out to lick one fat stripe up your cunt, making you release a long drawn-out moan you could not keep in anymore if you tried. “Let me hear you, princess, I want to hear every little sound from your sweet lips.”
“T-the pressure in me kept tightening itself as he played me like a delicate violin, his spit mingling- gods, fuck-“ You squeezed your legs shut as Jace licked and sucked at you, the noises where his mouth worked outright dirty and driving you insane. “-mingling with my own juices, his eyes never leaving mine as he lapped at me…”
You had no idea if you were even speaking a coherent language anymore. You were floating, levitating above yourself and the boy between your thighs, devouring you as if you were the best thing Jace had ever been granted to taste.
Jacaerys once again did not let it show that he was just as new to any of this as you were, expertly eating you out like he had never done anything else. He kissed your cunt with eager passion, varying between slow licks of his tongue and fiery kisses and sucking against your clit until you could not keep up with him anymore, your body melting into the armchair behind you.
As you stumbled once again over a sentence, you mewled and instinctively held on to the first thing in reach. It was the best unconscious decision your body could’ve ever made for you.
Jacaerys let out a guttural groan, the vibrations of his sound sending a jolt through you as he moaned right into your cunt, your fingers tightening their newly found hold on his soft curls. His fingers dug into your plush thighs and you lost yourself just a little more when he looked up to you.
His swollen lips were glistening with your wetness and Jace looked drunk on you, his eyes hazily glazed over as he held your stare, leaning into your hand holding on to his hair.
Your head fell back, your mouth opening to a silent blissed-out o-shape at the intensity of his mouth on you and before you knew it, you found yourself begging for your betrothed, his long fingers carefully spreading your folds apart for him.
“Jacaerys… please-“ You whimpered, brows scrunched together and breath hitching as he soothed his fingers over your sensitive flesh once more. The book became useless in your hands as the words blurred together in front of your vision. “I can’t go on anymore, please.”
He barely separated himself from you as he sighed into your cunt, deeply breathing you in and intending to never unlearn this feeling. “I know you can do it, princess. Come on, I want to know how the story ends, don’t you?”
You couldn't care less about how the godsdamned story would end anymore, but you saw the way Jace was looking at you, the dragon of your house lingering just beneath the surface. He was serious and you would not leave this seat before he had you right where he wanted; on the same high edge he had led you to in that tiny little bed…
And oh, how fast you were racing towards it.
“There was no escape from the heaven he brought on me and as- oh…as I felt my end nearing, I knew I was ruined for an…any m-man after him who’d dare to compete- ah, Jace, a-against him-“ You whimpered, your thighs shaking on top of his shoulders as he went on and on on you, his perfect mouth nearly making you go cross-eyed for a moment.
Suddenly, your vision whitened out, the diary slipping from your limb grasp and falling to the ground as Jace’s tongue breached your walls. Your back arched and you let out an incoherent string of curses, humming and gasping pathetically as his nose rubbed against your clit and Jace’s long lashes fluttered closed. You could not help but stare at him in wonder, your beautiful betrothed worshiping at the altar of your hips, dragging his skilled tongue through the mess he had made of you.
He was exquisite.
And finally, you seemed to have fulfilled your reading duty and he was satisfied with the outcome.
Jace groaned deeply and placed his hands on either side of your waist, drawing you closer to the edge of the chair and towards his mouth, his hot breath fanning over you and sending shivers down your spine.
“Are you close, princess?” He mumbled lowly, not bothering to separate himself from you, his lips sending little jolts through your nerves.
“S-so close…” You nodded quickly, head thrown back and fingers still carding through his hair, his hands and mouth on you the only things that still kept you on this world. “’s so good, Jacaerys, I’m going to…”
His hands found yours and as he laced your fingers together, he kissed your swollen wet clit again, gently suckling on it and moving his head just a little bit, his teeth lasciviously grazing over you-
You let go of yourself, combusting into a million little stars through his guiding touches. Your peak was washing over you in powerful waves, your hips still grinding against Jace’s eager mouth, chasing the taste of your release on his tongue as if it was the saving water in a hopeless desert.
“Perfect…” Jace murmured as he looked up to you in awe, his cheek admiringly resting on your thigh and you let out a breathless chuckle, chest heaving and heart thundering as he licked his lips clean of your release. “You are divine, my love.”
You were puddy in his safe hands, sighing happily as he kissed your leg and swiftly scooped you up into his awaiting arms. You gladly clung to him and as he carried you towards your enticing bed, your disheveled skirts were dragged behind you over the floor as your legs wrapped around his waist, one of his hands soothingly brushing over your hair as the other supported your bum.
He could’ve walked to the edge of the earth with you like this, you were content, nuzzling his neck like an affectionate kitten and breathing him in. What a grand blessing your sweet betrothed was…
While you still tried to calm yourself down from your peak, Jacaerys gently placed you on your soft beddings and sat down beside you. He kissed your chin, your temple and then both of your fluttering eyelids, his hands securely stroking your sides as he leaned over you.
“How are you feeling?” He asked quietly, seeking your gaze.
You smiled at him, reaching up to tuck one of his curls behind his ear. “Magnificent.”
Jacaerys blushed and kissed your cheek to hide it. “It wasn’t too much?”
“No.” You slid your hand to his nape, an idea blossoming in your mind. “It was new and…intense, but I loved it. You were good to me, Jace. Although…there is one thing I am still longing for, my prince.”
He furrowed his brows. “And what would that be, beloved?”
You drew him closer until he hovered over you, his own breath quickening as yours fanned over his lips. Your thumb brushed over his cheekbone and you leaned in to whisper: “I’ve not kissed you since that night.”
His pupils dilated. “We should change that.”
You grinned into the kiss as you both closed the distance and a deep part of you relaxed, as if you had been holding your breath ever since you took off to Dragonstone that morning. Jacaerys carefully held your face in the palms of his hands, but you felt that he was desperately needing this just as much as you did.
You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, although you were well and thoroughly sated for the night, only hungering for Jace’s pleasure now. You pulled him on top of you and sank into the pillows behind you, relishing the feeling of his lips moving against yours once more.
It was like the two of you were learning together, becoming better and better at knowing how to do this. He liked it when you playfully bit his bottom lip and you felt yourself growing hot when he licked into your mouth and time did not matter anymore as you made out with each other.
While his own hands were ghosting over your sides, his lashes brushing against your cheeks and tickling you, you steadied yourself on your elbows and pressed your chest against his. In a moment of tender weakness, you smoothed your hands over his chest and flipped the two of you around.
Jace let out a surprised grunt as he landed on your pillows, wondrously looking up at you and drinking in the sight that was you, now snuggly seated in his lap. His hands went to your waist, caressing your hip bones through the fabric of your skirt.
“Maybe I should make you read to me as well, my prince.” You considered sweetly, delighted in the way he breathed a little harder. “See how long you can concentrate while I play with you, hm?”
“Princess…”
You grinned, kissing the rest of his sentence away and sensually tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth. After all, he was not the only one educated in the practices of pleasure now. Time to show what your nameless ancestor had taught you through her diary.
He opened his mouth, surely to protest and insist he was fine once more, but you simply gave him a look and he closed it again. The evidence for his arousal was hot and hard under you and when you experimentally ground your hips down, a small whimper left his lips.
“I will not have you end the night unsatisfied again, Jace.” You told him sternly, making yourself comfortable and at home in his lap as you nestled with his belt.
He shook his head, although you could see the desire still burning in his dark eyes, sparked by your sudden initiative to take some little control back. “Seeing you come undone was more than enough for me already, princess.”
You shushed him, your fingertip on his lips. “Let me make you feel good too, Jace. Please.”
Jace brushed your hair back and for a moment, you could see him arguing with himself before he finally gave in to you. “Yes. You…I would like that, if you want.”
A victorious smile made its way on your face. “I do.”
You clumsily fumbled with his belt as you slowly began to kiss his neck, exploring the sensitive skin you had not felt against your lips before but could not get enough of now. Jacaerys obediently made space for you and leaned back, his mouth opening silently and eyes closing as he concentrated on only you and your hands and lips on him.
Quickly, you found out a spot that made him hiss, a sensitive patch just beneath his earlobe, when you unbuckled his pants and slid your hands down his front, over his muscled stomach, down and further down until-
Jace moaned, his fingers digging into your hip bones as you palmed the front of his underwear, feeling him almost throbbing with need against your wandering hand. You leaned back in curiosity to take a look at your beautiful boy, biting his lip and blinking at you with worship written all over his face.
“Help me a little here.” You whispered and held out your hand to him. Jace let out a shuddering breath, realizing your intention. Chapter eight. You clearly both had read it.
You trembled as he let a little bit of his spit drool down into the palm of your hand, holding your eye contact and when your own spit joined and you freed his cock to wrap your hand around his length, he hissed as if he had burned himself.
You could not decide where you wanted to look. He was beautiful, longer than you had imagined and a little curved and you couldn’t stop yourself from thumbing the slit, the precome of his tip easing the way as you slowly began to stroke him.
“Fuck…” Jace bit his lip, suppressing a little whimper, but you were quick, your thumb touching his bottom lip and encouraging him not to stifle his sounds. You had no idea what you’re doing, the reality was different from when it was all just words on a page, but you seemed to do something right given Jacaerys’ reaction to your slow and tender strokes.
“Does it feel good?” You wanted to know breathily, your lips brushing against each other as Jace bucked into your hand, unable to control himself as your hand slowly took him apart.
Jace nodded, chasing your mouth as he cupped the back of your neck and drew you close, devouring you in a hot and passionate kiss that made your hand stutter with distraction. Your other hand was squeezing his shoulder and you moved together, a dance danced best in your bed, with the one you loved and who loved you back.
“Princess…” He whispered, his whole sight angelic and holy to you as you watched him mesmerized, the slick sound of your hand around him drowned out by the string of moans leaving his plump lips as you twisted your wrist. “Gods, ‘so good to me…I’m- I’m not going to last as long as the men in those stories…”
You chuckled, lightheaded with the endless love you felt, only doubling your efforts to make your betrothed feel good at your hands. You leaned your forehead against his and breathed: “I do not care. It’s you I want. And I want to watch you come undone, Jorrāeliarzys, as you watched me.”
He whimpered, eyes fluttering closed as you slowed your hand. It seemed like Jacaerys preferred it this way, a touch so drawn out it almost felt like nothing, but was everything. You peppered kisses along his neck and exposed collarbone, coaxing him towards the same cliff you had tumbled off earlier, feeling his shivers and the strain in him as you took care of his need.
“Come on, Jace…” You lured, pressing one last kiss to his open lips before you added near his ear in a whisper: “Come for your wife, my love.”
Jacaerys’ head fell back as he released a languorous long moan, his cock twitching as he spilled his seed, your hand guiding him through the high as you watched him awestruck by his beauty. You stayed close and leaned against him, playing with his hair as he recovered, a panting mess you had made of him and you felt yourself cuddling close to.
“Are you okay?” You whispered when he did not speak, only drawing you tight against him and combing his fingers through your hair.
“Yes…I’m perfect.” He murmured and nuzzled his nose against your neck. “Just need a moment. You are a gift from the gods, my love.”
You blushed, busying yourself with gently tucking his length back into his pants and sighing happily. “This silly little diary, huh?”
You laughed together, the vision of two young lovers, happy and sated. The adrenaline and giddiness of both your actions was coursing through your veins at full force, now that the haze of pleasure had lifted from your mind.
After a while, he grimaced at the mess on your hand and you laughed quietly as he grabbed his cloak from your nightstand and quickly wiped it off for you.
“It’s not that bad.” You insisted giggly, but he was having none of it.
“I won’t have you having to sully yourself with my mess.”
“Jace, earlier your chin was covered with my-“
“Shh…” He shushed you gently and pulled you close, sinking into the pillows with you tucked against him, your head fitting just perfectly underneath his chin. You had missed the way your body fitted perfectly against his own, not protesting anymore as he hugged you close to his chest.
„I can hardly wait to get married to you…” You mumbled sleepily against his neck, your hand finding its way into his lush curls.
He smiled against your temple, his arms drawing you closer against his chest as he rested his chin on your head. “I will relish every day I’ll have with you by my side as my wife then. As I relish every moment with you now, my love.”
You hummed happily, an undeniable warmth spreading through your chest at his promise. Drawing a tiny heart on his chest, you looked up into his eyes with a plea. “Can you stay? Just a little longer until I’ve fallen asleep?”
Both of you knew he could not stay here for the night. It had been a challenge already to slip into your quarters without raising suspicious questions. But if the prince would spend the night in his betrothed’s chambers? You’d raise a scandal neither of you wanted to face or deal with.
“Of course.” He cooed and you relaxed, melting in his embrace as he carded his fingers through your hair. “I’ll stay.”
“Good.” You murmured sleepily, timidly kissing his jaw one last time as exhaustion claimed your body and bones. It was the sweetest déjà vu, your embrace similar to the one you had shared in the inn. But only this time, your hearts beating peacefully in sync with each other.
“Sleep well, princess.” Jacaerys whispered tenderly and watched as you drifted off into sleep.
He did not leave you for another few hours, but when he eventually had to, he swore himself he was going to make you fully his as soon as possible…
Perhaps a conversation with his mother was more than overdue.
𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃
my taglist: @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss
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saradika · 6 months
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— invisible string
din djarin x vaguely force sensitive!reader
rated e - 1.7k
tags: divergent timeline, soulmate!au, takes place across season 1 & 2, missed connections, the Razor Crest lives, PiV, marking, creampie, magical elements
a/n: for the TS Challenge by @beskarandblasters! This was so fun, thanks so much for hosting this event! 💖 I was so excited to get this song & character
There's something about him, this man.
Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.
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You feel as if you are always out of step.
Too early. And then somehow - just a little bit too late.
As if you've missed something crucial. A prickle on the back of your neck. Eyes scanning the crowds of people as you weave through cities - looking for someone.
As to whom, though - you're never quite sure.
You think it's always been there. A similar sort of feeling that flickers when you're in danger. That was something you had cultivated. Manipulated into a force you can wield. A push and pull, an aid - when you need it. Something you draw from often, during your days as a smuggler.
But you're not sure what to do with this.
The feeling is pushed down on Nevarro.
Contacted for a job, one that had been easy enough. Your goods exchanged in a dingy cantina - a shipment of stolen fuel cells furtively traded to an irritated man that went by Karga. Your eyebrows raised at the charred hole in the man's fine clothes - a half-hearted wonder at how the man was still standing.
The Imperial credits he offers you do not get you far. He's unable to offer you a puck - his trade was in bounty hunting, not smuggling. You're not sure if you'd take one, and the cells are enough to keep his crew afloat for a while. A dead-end for now, but you think - not always.
After, your ship drifts along an unseen track.
To Tatooine this time. A big job for the Hutts that takes you two weeks. Days in the sun spent waiting for the payments to transfer to your account, and so in the meantime - you tinker.
Trading your way up. A broken blaster fixed, exchanged for ship parts. The parts installed, the labor paid for with two, beat-up old speeders.
Only to sell them both to a cocky hot-shot bounty hunter for double their value - his over-blown self-confidence eclipsing the fact that you were absolutely swindling him.
It’s not your problem.
Though here, you can't help but feel the urge to linger. An itch beneath your skin, as if you've missed something, again.
You ignore it. Trading up one more time - swapping Mos Eisley for the sea. The choppy waters of Trask washing away the grit and sand that clings to your skin.
There's always work to be found here - deals to make with the Quarren and Mon Calamari. Those days spent at the inn, with lunches of warm homemade chowder and wrapped in chunky-knit sweaters.
Eyes snagging on a couple that often sits together at lunch. Their features frog-like, affection clear in their soft chatter, the slow blink of their large, black eyes. You imagine it to be a stolen moment - meeting up in the afternoon, too eager to wait until evening to see each other.
It’s nice.
It follows you, back to your room.
You think about them later - the obvious connection. A bone-deep urge to find another that matches a part of you. Something you've never had.
Somehow you know it’s out there.
But it's not time.
The next day, your ship takes off again.
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There's a feeling deep down that for once, you're right where you need to be.
Your path is not guided by a job. Something spinning inside your chest like the point of a compass, your fingers keying coordinates with a mind of their own.
It's not a sea. Not a desert. Not a growing town, slowly rebuilding.
You're taken to a forest. The trees are unlike those you've seen - stretching tall and thin towards the sky. Their leaves sparse, but still filling the space with the sheer number.
There's a village - but you're drawn away from the tall walls. There's nothing inside that you seek. Drawn back to the trees you had seen from above. There's no tracks for you to follow, it's only your own boots pressed into the earth.
But you still go out, day after day.
It's on the third day, as you sit by the edge of a clear, shallow pool, that you hear the crack of branches under boots.
It should frighten you… but it doesn't.
It feels like an inevitability.
Your head turns, and there's a man there. His limbs encased in armor of shining beskar. A Mandalorian, you realize, when your eyes meet the dark visor that bisects his helmet.
"It's you." The words are a flat buzz, through his helmet. Unsurprised, somehow. Just as you are.
And it's him.
There's something about him, this man.
Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.
You're not sure what that something is...
But think you are finally ready to find out.
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His touch is familiar, though you've never known it. Much like everything else, it feels almost destined.
You know he feels it too. A slow circling dance, the weight of his eyes following you from behind the visor. That string inside no longer feels like a leash, but instead - a lifeline.
Finally being able to acknowledge that he has been what you've been orbiting around this whole time. Easing that ever-present ache of loneliness that had always followed you.
For some time, he had thought you would be the one to train Grogu. That perhaps this had been the reason why the fates had pushed you together.
You had tried, and failed. That part of you still too raw, too unfashioned. It lived inside you, but it was something you had been unable to teach another. How could you, when you did not even know the word for what it was?
And as time passed, you realized deep down that you were truly meant to be here now. Not for the before.
An aid at first, of course. You had gone with him to Tython. Traded in your ship, and traveled on the Slave 1. Had faced death by his side, staring into the black chrome of the Dark Troopers.
Had grieved with him, after.
You think this had been your place all along.
This liminal space, in those months that follow.
Giving him something to grab onto. Fingers sinking into flesh, your back hitting the mattress as he follows.
It’s dark, in the belly of his ship. With anyone else your senses would be screaming, a ringing alarm.
But you’ve come to know each room, fingers tracing the cold metal. From the walls, to the bunk, to him - the tips slipping under to tug at the fastenings of his armor.
He is quiet, like he often is now. But you can feel the heat that rolls off him in waves. The harsh buzz of his breath through the vocoder, before the light cuts out completely.
Before it’s just him and you.
His knees nudge your thighs wider. Pressing into muscle and flesh, forcing them up and apart. Your fingers twist in his curls, angling your mouth up to meet the kiss that is all teeth and tongue.
Fingers dip down, thick and calloused. Parting you, nudging inside to where you’re wet and waiting. Pumping deep with his thumb pressed snug against the button of your clit - leaving you dizzy and clenching and wondering if he just knew, as well.
You think he did. He does.
And when he works himself inside you, you finally feel full. Ripping a sound from each of you - his rough and swallowed, yours a broken murmur of his name.
Something else given in the dark, on another night akin to this. Pieces of himself peeled back and gifted, only to be carefully wrapped up and buried deep.
The pound of his hips itches at something you’ve been missing. Those hands tugging at your hips, pulling you to meet each harsh thrust. Fingers slipping down to swirl against you again - a spark rising each time you fit together, building swiftly to an inferno.
“Din,” You breathe, as something heavy flickers inside you, just out of reach, “Stars, please. Don’t stop-”
“I won’t,” It’s a low oath, as his cock grinds deep, “I’ve waited too long for you, cyare.”
He wrenches it from you, setting you ablaze. Your is cry loud in the tiny room as you come undone. The wild swirl of your senses narrowing down, until it’s just him. Din’s mouth against your neck, warm breath and teeth nipping marks into your skin - the pleasure flowing from you in pulsing waves, sinking into him.
Making him follow, no more than a dozen thrusts later. A gritted, bitten-back moan of your own name, before his hips are stuttering. Giving back what you passed to him, his cock throbbing inside you, buried deep.
Where he stays, until he’s gone soft. A pang of loss shuddering through you when he slips from between your thighs - expecting him to return to his own bunk.
To leave you, again.
But the mattress dips, next to you. The space narrow, a short sigh when you wiggle too much trying to get comfortable. Hands hooking around your wrists, hauling your hips over his. Settling you down on top of him.
And in the dark - he stays.
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“Should have met you on Tatooine,” Din tells you later that night, unbidden. Letting your legs twine with his, thighs parted to make room for you. “I didn’t know it was you. If I had-”
His words end abruptly, hanging. Both of you thinking about all those moments when time hadn’t lined up. The synchronicity of your movements, just barely nudged out of time.
Both there, during that same moment. If you had stayed another day, maybe that would have been your meeting.
But you had left early, and he had came late.
“We’re here now.” You tell him, chin pressing against his chest. Eyes finding his in the dark, though you cannot see. “Isn’t that enough?”
There’s the brush of his hand along your spine - knuckles, and then fingertips as they unfurl.
“Yes.”
It is enough, for now.
You’re not sure if it’s forever. If, for some reason, you’ll be forced to part again. But tonight, you’re not worried.
Because, if you were to reach inside yourself and pluck that golden string right now - letting it thrum…
You think that he would feel it, too.
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thanks so much for reading!! 💖
cyare - beloved
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naffeclipse · 1 month
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Summersoft Reunion
Reader x Snow Monkey!Sun
Commission Info
This one is a little reunion for the darling reader and Snow Monkey Sun! It was so sweet to write these two coming back together and a big thank you to @cipher-the-sidhe for commissioning this lovely moment! It's so cute to come back to the god of the mountain and give him a nice hug.
———
The wind drifts around you, gentle as petals upon a pond. You breathe in and warm the cool mountain air inside your lungs before releasing it. It’s summer. The beautiful frost and sweeps of snow along the mountain have melted back into dense forest greenery thick with scents of fir and spruce. There is a notable temperature difference between the sweltering heat set low on the island and this cool, refreshing crispness that hangs around the town.
You step away from the train station, your hand clutching a wooden comb in your palm and the other tugging on the handle of your luggage. Without the winter snow, the landscape has gently shifted into deep greens and warm browns with glistening ponds of koi fish still happily splashing in their little homes. The wooden buildings are lighter without the weight of snowfall and the calmness persists, still cultivated in their ancient quality despite the modern amenities.
You were not born here, but you feel a connection. A precious belonging that is begging you to hurry along, like a newlywed bride entering her husband’s homeland to meet all that he knows and loves.
A shiver rolls through you. That’s too dramatic, isn’t it? However, it is not to say that you’re not eagerly looking for a sweet reunion, softened by summer. You promised you would find him. 
He’s waiting for you.
The timber company has been stalled for the time being. You were able to raise a reasonable objection, joined by most if not all of the members of the town, to combat the raid on the land and halt the destruction of the forest. 
Protecting religious and sacred sites is difficult to prove, but noteworthy with the shrines littered throughout the mountain for the mythical beast. While the timber company argues through the bureaucracy to continue tearing apart the land and chopping down the trees, their work does not continue. It’s a chance. A chance to give Sun what he and the other spirits of the mountain need. 
You trot fervently through the town. You don’t linger on the beautiful brushstroke signs out in front of shops or how the lighting has been made to look soft and lantern-like. The inn is at the far end of the street, hushly tucked away from the bustle of the shops and restaurants. 
Is it you, or is it a little busier? You hope so. The more people who pay respect to the shrines, the more legitimate your claims are in protecting the sacred sites. 
The hostess of the inn recognizes you when you check-in, and you spy her two little kids again, a little more bold in flashing you smiles and teetering in delight when you wave back at them. You quickly excuse yourself, already slipping into a thick pair of hiking boots and tugging on a thick jacket built for harsher temperatures than this, but you will not be caught unprepared. 
Gently slipping the wooden comb gilded with a delicate, gold design of a flower into your jacket pocket, you turn your eyes towards the mountain slope and begin climbing. 
It’s so familiar yet so strange. The first time you trekked up towards the shrine, you were a mere tourist, intrigued by the mythical and hoping for… something—a blessing. You did not know then what it would mean to you. A mountain of snow would fall upon you and you would be saved, held, and kissed by a god. Suno. But he is Sun to you.
Your heart already picks up on what awaits you. Your gloved hands move to touch your other pocket, caressing the little bit of money you brought as an offering. It’s not a gold pendant, but it is something to give. 
The mountain slope is still stained with trees gouged from the earth and earth scooped up like a disemboweled carcass, but the rot of the timber company’s greed no longer spreads. You wonder if Sun noticed. Of course, you think it would be difficult to not see the change in the air. Even if you sometimes feel small and meager, you have still done something to try and help. 
You are still worthy.
The mountain path gradually opens up to you and levels out into a flare little clearing containing a meadow now thick with grass and wild mountain flowers. You think one or two may resemble the design on your wooden comb.
Gently, breathlessly, you approach the shrine that first brought you to the mythical beast. Humble but timeless, the gate allows you entrance to the shrine. Gently, you bow, and step onto the sacred ground. You slip the money into the golden box. The small carved figure of what you know now as the mythical beast regards you with a commanding air, but he seems a little more cheerful. You’re not the only one who has visited as of late with other offerings softly rattling in the box. Good.
You step back. A soft sound of wooden beads knocking together pricks your ears. Slowly, you turn around.
Standing only a few feet away from you is the mythical beast. Sun. His cornsilk yellow fur shines in the bright daylight. His eyes, pale irises upon black scleras, soften like ice melting in spring. He stands tall, his body willowy and his limbs long but he does not frighten you. Despite understanding who he truly is, your heart lurches with a desperate need to throw yourself at him.
He opens his arms.
“A sun-kissed hello to you, my peach,” he greets, gentle and warm as the morning.
“Sun,” your voice cracks with emotion. You meet him halfway before he takes you into his embrace and lifts you off your feet. Wrapping your arms around his scarlet silk scarf, you squeeze your eyes shut and unashamedly press your cheek against his face. He rumbles a great, joyous sound, animalistic and human, all at once.
“How are you, snow angel?” he utters. “Are you alright? I’ve been waiting for you while the snow melted. The people have stopped chopping away at the trees. That was your doing, wasn’t it?”
You laugh shakily—only due to the sheer warmth flooding you. You once again soak in his warmth. You never forgot the sweet heat of his body, but there is nothing quite like experiencing his lush, warm fur again after weeks without his presence.
“I’m good, I’m good.” You softly card your fingers through the softness of his fur at the nape of his neck. Your palm yearns for the softness of his fuzz. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. The systems we had to go through were sluggish on the best of days, but we made our objection! The timber company has stopped for the time being. I just can’t say what will happen in the future, I’m afraid.”
“No mortal can,” he hums knowingly. Gingerly, however, he lowers you back to the ground without releasing you. Sun crosses his legs in the meadow grass and slides you into his lap with the slightest bit of effort. “But let me look at you, panda. Oh, you are so sweet and precious.”
His thumb and finger gently capture your chin. His large hands are pale and comforting and they gently press into your skin to tilt your head this way and that. His simian canines flash in his mouth, pearly white and stunning in length, but your heart only beats with joy at his presence. 
Slowly, as if you were still in a dream, afraid to wake from it, you press your hands softly to his chest and take soft fistfuls of his fur. His shoulders rise and fall gently with deep, calm breaths. His tail whips behind him while the rest of him holds carefully still under your observation. 
He is still the same. He is not a distant, confused dream. He is still yours.
You spare him a glance while you softly lift his scarlet scarf. Sun chuckles in amusement as your fingertips find the gold chain holding your pendant resting around his throat. A stirring overtakes your middle, unfolding with warmth, delicious and soft.
“I missed you.” You flush softly, heat staining your cheeks.
He coos joyfully. His fingertips brush against your cheekbones as if wishing to dip his hand in the pink overtaking your features. 
“And I have missed you.” His hands slide down to your hips. His gaze is powerful, holding your own with a deep longing that you wonder if gods are known for.
Preparing yourself, you lift your head.
“I know what you are,” you say.
Sun arches a brow, a grin playing at his mouth.
“Do tell, my peach.” He gently squeezes your waist, perhaps in an attempt to distract you, but you lift your chin higher. You’re not afraid.
“Suno, the god of the mountain.”
“Ah, so you did figure me out,” he chitters in delight, though nothing much has changed. You thought he would be surprised or at least curious to see if you’re afraid of him—of course, you’re not. You’ve had a long while to think of his hands upon you, how he washed you in the hot springs with reverence.
You are his. 
“Yes,” you murmur, and rub your fingers along his shoulders, combing his handsome fur, “though you could have told me.”
“I could have,” he agrees with the tilt of his head, “but that wouldn’t have been the same. Mortals need to discover things for themselves.”
“Do we?” you dryly regard him.
He grins so big, you can’t help but smile back.
“You do, such as what my affections taste like.” 
Your heart beats stronger within your rib cage. You straighten as Sun cups the side of your face, easily holding you in place while he leans closer. You catch a sweet scent of musk and a distant breeze of warm, yellow flowers.
The god of the mountain kisses you sweetly, with utter devotion. He is soft upon your mortal lips.
He draws back, his smile sated and his eyes glimmering.
“Welcome back, my peach.”
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fairyysoup · 5 months
Text
it will come back
part one
a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie's version)
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pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader
summary: You don’t go into the woods. You don’t talk to strangers. And you don’t, under any circumstances, approach a wolf. Unless one shows up bleeding at your door.
cw: dark themes, mature content, animal cruelty, animal death mention, gunshots, physical abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master, misogyny, suggestive themes, fairytale au, some kind of historical fantasy period, inspired by The Company of Wolves by Angela Carter, eventual smut (in later parts)
a/n: hiiiiiiii :) so remember when i said i'd stop posting fic on tumblr? well one mental breakdown later i decided that was literally making me miserable and ruining my hobby! so i'm back. it's me, hi, i'm the problem it's me <3 this is a reupload
ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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There are things they tell you about the woods from the time you are born, weaning you on them just the same as you are weaned on milk. Don’t go into the woods on a full moon. Don’t talk to strange men. Likewise, if you see a strange man alone in the pines on the full moon, run and don’t look back. And don’t, for any reason, approach a wolf at any time. They’ll kill you before you turn the other cheek.
In your twenty-some-odd years, you have never seen a wolf. You’ve heard them howling, distantly, so deep in the forest that you don’t even feel the need to be frightened by it. They exist in there, somewhere, going about their business as wolves do.
Sometimes you hear about the wolves wandering into town. Old Mr. Thatch, from just over the creek, said his pigs were slaughtered in the night. He’ll have to spend a fortune to get a few more. Torben Plack from the end of Warder’s Row saw one drinking from the horse trough outside the inn last month. 
There are whispers of wolves when a baby is missing from its crib. There are whispers of murder in the night. There are accusations that some of the townsfolk themselves are wolves in disguise.
Nonsense, the lot of it. Or, that’s what you believe. That’s what you choose to think about it– even though you’ve been told time and again that a pretty girl doesn’t think, a pretty girl believes and does what she’s told. She doesn’t go into the woods. She does her chores and she says her prayers and she marries a boy with a healthy income and lives quietly, rearing children until she can’t anymore.
(You don’t believe that, either.)
You don’t have the luxury of making any other choices, though. You are a servant, a milkmaid in the employ of a rather cold Master– you have no time for philosophy or discerning what you do and don’t believe about the local folklore.
You milk the cow. You chop the firewood. You feed the chickens. You harvest the cabbage and you don’t complain. You sleep on your bed in your shack– or, servant’s quarters– behind the grand house and you don’t, under any circumstances, question the Master or his wife. You wash the bedsheets after he sloppily takes his wife to bed, and you try to hide your disgust. 
You usually do what you’re told. Usually. 
On a night when the moon hangs round and full in the sky, lighting the stretch of land beyond your small shack in a milky blue haze, you’re building a small fire in the fireplace when you hear it. The howling. It’s so much closer than you’ve ever heard it, almost as though the wolves are just beyond the treeline that backs up to your master’s land.
You pay it no mind. Normally, the wolves are on the hunt for something– small animals that titter through the woods, unassuming until it’s too late. The howling will be distant soon, and you’ll be able to sleep soundly while the rest of the town frets about the dangers of the wolf-men, locking their windows and bolstering their doors. 
Just as you thought, the howls drift away slowly. You snuggle down into the covers of your bed, and you barely flinch when Mr. Thatch fires off a pistol over the creek, ringing through the dead night louder than hell. These things mean little to you. You’re more interested in what the land of dreams holds for you tonight– it’s one of the only reprieves you get from your long days of work.
It isn’t until ten minutes later, when you are mere inches from sleep, that you hear a soft whining outside your cabin door. At first, you think it’s the wind. Then, when it gets louder, you wonder if you’re imagining it.
And when it turns into a soft howling, well. That’s not your imagination.
You wrap a woven blanket around your shoulders and leave the door open when you step out into the chilly night. You don’t have a candle– you could always knick one from the Mistress, but that might risk getting caught, and you don’t love that idea. So, you contend with the little amount of light that spills out of the open door from your small fireplace, and you squint into the dark toward the source of the sound.
It takes shape in the form of a wolf. A big one, covered in black fur and curled up beneath the gabled roof, as though attempting to make itself smaller. It shivers and whimpers miserably, tucking its paws close to its body. 
You shrink back in the doorway, drawing your blanket closer around your shoulders. The hum of crickets in the bushes and in the grass across the pasture covers the shakiness of your rapid breathing. You don’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly be expected to bother the Master this late at night– even if it is a wolf, the barn is shut up and the animals are safe. You’d probably be expected to just stay put in your little cabin and wait for it to go away on its own. Maybe in the morning the Master will find it and skin it for the Mistress’s bedquilt. 
The image makes you shudder. This poor thing– even if it is nearly as big as you, even if it’s a nasty predator in the eyes of everyone else– is clearly looking for some sort of reprieve. Just the same as you do at the end of the day. You can’t let it be skinned alive just for searching for safety.
“Hey,” you whisper softly, and you know the creature hears you, because it flinches badly. Almost as though it may bolt away in a panic. “No, no… don’t be frightened.” 
You lower yourself down towards the ground, tentatively inching forward as the creature turns its head to blink up at you. Water brims its dark eyes, sparkling in the low light from your open door. Streaks of tears flatten the fur on its snout; the wretched thing lets out a noise like a sob, hanging its head like it doesn’t have the energy to stand you off.
“I’ve never seen a wolf cry before,” you tell it quietly. You’ve never seen a wolf, period, but you don’t need to tell it that. You’re not sure that it can understand you, anyways, but you keep talking like it can. ��Are you hurt?”
The wolf snorts, sneezes loudly, and then trembles. There’s a high pitched whining, a heart-shattering noise that cuts deep into your chest as the beast cowers away from you. The whine turns into a low growl when you move a bit closer, but it doesn’t sound like it really means business. More like it doesn’t know what to do with your closeness. 
“Hey,” you say again, more insistently. You inch your way forward, crouched low to the ground, holding your blanket around you with one hand as you reach the other out toward it. You’ve never tried to approach a wolf. You don’t know if it’s similar to trying to gain a domesticated dog’s trust– hold out your hand, let it catch your scent. Show it that you mean no harm, allow it to come to you. “I’m trying to help you, okay? Let me help.”
The wolf growls for a moment longer before finally relenting, and reaching its head forward to sniff curiously at your hand. You don’t know what you expect– perhaps that it would drop its head again, or back away cautiously. Instead, the wolf surprises you by pushing its head into your outstretched palm like a sad puppy.
“Oh,” you coo, stroking the wolf’s soft head as it trembles. Its ears twitch against your fingers, and it snuffles a few times, its body shaking with each, like an all-too-human fit of sobbing. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you inside.” 
Again, it’s a shot in the dark. You back slowly away from the creature, whose watery eyes blink up at you, and then you stand, and open the cabin door wider. The wolf doesn’t move, still continuing to shake with its uneven breathing.
You take a step into the door, and watch as the wolf slowly struggles up out of its cowering position. On all four legs, it seems to be favoring its right front leg, lifting its left paw limply upward. When you take another step back into the cabin, and it follows, it shudders a breath and limps badly on its left leg. 
“Good job, honey,” you tell the wolf gently as it tentatively follows you into the cabin. 
You don’t know whether to leave the door open or to shut it; you’re not sure if there’s any wisdom in shutting yourself in close quarters with a wild animal, but you also don’t want the Master to find it come morning. You suck your teeth and swing the door shut, quietly latching it and hoping the damned thing doesn’t suddenly decide it’s too hungry. 
You turn, and take two steps before dropping to your knees in front of the fireplace, where the most light hits the ground. You drop your blanket to the floor, and pat your lap as you look at the creature shivering a few feet away. “C’mere. Lay down.”
As far as you know, wolves don’t normally lay down and play lapdog for strange humans, but this one does. You wonder at it, remarkable in its size and beauty, as it flops down tiredly onto your floor and rests its head in your lap. Through your cotton chemise, the wolf’s chin is warmer than the heat of the fire.
You pet the wolf’s head again gently as you examine its left leg. It doesn’t seem to have any major wounds except for a spot of wetness on the side of it. When you lift it, the wolf in your lap whines loudly.
“I know, baby,” you coo at it, trying to pet its head as soothingly as you can while you look over the mangled leg and paw. Through the fur and dirt, you see a patch of pink skin matted with bright red, and your own hand comes away smeared with blood. There is a bad gash, enough to still be bleeding. 
You don’t want to jostle the animal now that it’s relatively comfortable, so you bend backwards and sideways to reach the cup of water on the shelf at your bedside. It’s what you have on hand to clean the wound– you suppose you could sneak into the grand house to steal some soap, but just the same as the candle, you’d rather not risk it. You take your time in pouring cool, clean water on the wolf’s wound, rubbing dirt and blood away from the gash. In your lap, the beast huffs softly in response.
“I don’t know what you’re doing out of the woods,” you tell it as you tenderly clean its wound, expecting that you’re only speaking to settle your own nerves, “but you ought not to come around here too often. The men here are bloodthirsty. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.” 
The wolf heaves a sigh. For what it’s worth, you take that as some sort of acknowledgement. 
“I can’t do much else for you besides this,” you continue softly. The wound is clean now, the fur gone wet enough that you can pull it aside and peer at the gash itself. It’s quite deep, straight, and slices from the middle of its leg upward at a diagonal. It continues to ooze even as you examine it, painting your fingers red. You tip a little more water onto it. 
You grab one corner of the blanket you’d used to wrap yourself, and rip a strip off along the grain. The light pink fabric looks almost comical when you wrap it around the wolf’s leg, tying it and tucking the tails in gently so that it won’t fall off too easily. You figure, eventually, the damn thing will come off while the wolf goes off on its merry way. You don’t delude yourself into thinking you’ve got a pet, now.
“I wish I could give you more,” you tell the beast, petting your hand down its mane, feeling the silken fur slide through your fingers like the plushest finery that you’ll never be able to enjoy for yourself. “But, I suppose, you can rest here tonight. If you promise to stay polite.”
The wolf doesn’t fuss when you slide a stiff pillow under its chin, and slip back under the covers of your bed. You gaze at it, curled up in a big black mass on your floor in front of the hearth, and you wonder why on earth a wild animal would be so well behaved. 
You wonder how a wolf is capable of crying.
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You wake in the early morning light expecting to find a big black wolf sleeping in front of your hearth. Instead, when you rouse and rub the sleep from your eyes, you find that the wolf is gone.
In fact, there appears to have been no wolf at all. No blood on the floor, no black fur on the pillow that has inexplicably reappeared on the foot of your bed. Your water cup is full. And the door to your cabin is latched, just the same as it had been last night, after you let the wolf in.
By all appearances, nothing happened last night. There was no wolf. You half expect that you dreamed the entire thing. And you would continue to believe so– but, the end of your pink woven blanket is still torn, missing a strip from the end, frayed along the grain.
You slip from your bed and fling open the door to your shack, emerging into the cool morning air. You look down at the nook beside the door where the wolf had huddled in the dark, seeking shelter away from harm. There is nothing there to suggest that it had been there last night. 
But you know it to be true. You know it.
How could a wolf, a four legged creature with full use of only three of them, manage to unlatch your door, step out, and then relatch it from the other side? How could your water magically refill itself? It’s a mile to the well in the town square, and it’s not like the wolf could have done it. 
Broken from your thoughts, you hear a shriek of your name. You lift your head to see your Mistress, fully dressed, feeding the chickens. The daily chores have already begun.
“What are you doing outside in your underclothes?!” your Mistress yells, flinging grain down at the birds. “Go inside and dress yourself this instant, you wretch! And begin your morning duties!” 
You jump, darting back behind the door. You hadn’t thought anyone would be out yet. “Sorry, Mistress!” 
You rush to grab your stays from the end of your bed. You’ll pay for that one, you think. 
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There are a million reasons why you prefer doing your chores out of the house. 
One, the Mistress isn’t around to rag on you over every little thing. Two, you don’t have to be watching over your shoulder to make sure you aren’t in the Master’s way. And three, you can take all the time you want to do other things as well, as long as you get done before dinner has to be served. 
Your skirt is filthy, but it’s a beautiful day, and the creek that separates your Master’s land from Mr. Thatch’s land is babbling quite a bit, and it makes doing the washing up much easier than it otherwise would be. Which you’re happy about, since your arm is so badly welted you can barely curl your fingers. 
You sniffle and lift your apron to wipe your nose. Then you wring out the Mistress’s petticoat– of which there are far too many for one woman to reasonably have– you whine at the strain on your injured hand, and you move to the basket of other soiled clothes. You think about blowing your nose in the Master’s linen shirt, and you’re about two seconds from doing it, too, when you hear a splash nearby. 
“Shit,” says a man’s voice. There are a couple more splashes around the bend, and then yelps, and then there’s one enormous splash, and a laugh. 
“Hello?” you call, trying to peer around the bank of overgrowth beside you. Then, there’s a cacophonous amount of splashing, which makes you screw up your face, and a man emerges from around the bank of greenery.
You pause, holding your Master’s laundry in your hands over the water like you’re wondering whether to dip it in or not. Really, you’re just shocked to see a strange man on your Master’s property at all. He’s out of breath, rosy cheeked and soaking wet from the chest down.
“Um,” is all you can say.
“Hello there,” the man says with a rakish grin that flashes sharp teeth at you. You blink a few times, just to make sure he’s really there. And when you do satisfy yourself with the fact that, yes, he’s very real, you then have to acclimate yourself to the idea that he’s also absolutely beautiful.
His very pretty face is framed by long, dark hair, and his eyes are strikingly dark. There’s something on his skin peeking out of the open collar of his burgundy blouse, but to look at that from this distance means to look at the way his shirt clings to his body, and then his trousers, and if you weren’t already struck dumb, now you are.
“How– how are you– um.” You wave your hands around, gesturing to the general area around you. “Whatareyoudoinghere?” 
“I think I was going for a swim, of sorts,” the man laughs, holding one arm out a bit to indicate his damp appearance. 
“Who are you?”
“Now, there’s a question for the ages.” The man tromps forward through the water, splashing along gracelessly and with exaggerated steps, like he’s trying to make you laugh. “Generally speaking, no one really cares who I am, just what I want.” 
“Okay,” you snap, irritated by the man’s jovial attitude and his need to speak in riddles. “What do you want? Why are you on this land? What business do you have here, and with whom?” 
“Whoa, hey–” the man holds up his hands, and grimaces like it’s painful to do so. Then he recovers with a flashy smile. “I don’t mean you any harm, princess. I have no business anywhere, I was just following the creek and seeing where it leads. Guess the time got away from me.”
“I’m not a princess,” you grumble back at him.
He tilts his head, his smile lingering as he looks at you. “Just an expression, no need to be nasty.”
You scowl down at your master’s clothes, and then plunge them into the water like they personally offended you. “Following the creek from where?” He points his thumb over his shoulder, towards the trees. “You came from the woods?”
“Thereabouts.” 
You squint up at him. “What’s your name?”
“Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows dramatically and takes another step towards you. “And may I ask who you are? Or shall I just call you ‘My Lovely Lady of the Creek,’ for time immemorial?”
You tell him your name flatly, and turn your face away as he gets closer, suddenly very invested in getting sweat stains out of your Master’s linen blouse using a cake of lye soap. “You should know not to go into those woods alone. There’s wolves.” 
 “Oh, I think I can handle myself in the woods, sweetheart.” Eddie smirks down at you. “Anyways, who wants to be in the trees on a day like this?” 
You grunt. You don’t think the man will be going away anytime soon, which is bad news for you, because the closer he gets, the more inclined you are to look at him. Then, you’re more inclined to talk, and you’ve already been punished once today. You don’t think you could handle another.
The man, Eddie, sits himself down on a large rock jutting out of the water next to you. He watches you for a moment, scrubbing with one hand at the cloth on the board in the water, and then he points down at your arm. His billowing sleeve flashes red in your peripheral vision, along with the silver of the rings on his hand.
“What happened here?” he asks softly, his voice losing its humorous tone.
You look down at the welted skin. It stings, but the cold water numbs the pain just a bit. Now that he’s brought your attention back to it, your eyes prick with tears again, and you sniff. “My Mistress caught me outdoors in my chemise.”
“She should count herself lucky. It’s a sight to behold.” 
“What?” You blink up at him. From this angle, him looming over you on a boulder, the sun rings his head in gold like a halo. “How would you know?” 
“I’m… supposing.” Eddie bites his lip, staring off to the side for a moment, as if suddenly at a loss for the right words to say. “You’re a very… beautiful girl. I can only imagine.” 
“That’s forward of you.” 
“Besides, it doesn’t answer my question,” he rushes out. He scowls back down at your arm. “What did that to you?” 
You heave a sigh. “Well, the Mistress told my Master. And the Master is very heavy handed with a cane.” A small sob constricts your throat for a moment, tears pricking your eyes again so badly that you have to stop working and close them. Your sinuses burn from the effort of holding it in.
“You were beaten because you went outside without a petticoat?” Eddie remarks incredulously, “That’s ridiculous.”
“Well, I… I was also late to start my chores,” you admit in a wobbly voice. “So I suppose I got off easier than most would…” 
“It’s cruel. I’d love to see how he would take it, if the tables were turned.” Eddie’s dark eyes flash dangerously when you look up at him; there’s something in the set of his jaw and the steely expression on his face that makes you think of the growling wolf last night. After a moment, he softens towards you again. “Why were you late to your chores?”
“I…” you trail off. You think about telling him about the wolf, but you wonder if he’s the kind of person who will go into town and yell about the wolves trying to steal women in the night, and you could do without the embarrassment. “I had a nightmare. Slept too late.”
Eddie clicks his tongue and rocks backward a bit. “A nightmare,” he repeats, considering the word like it’s a part of life’s philosophy. “What about?”
You don’t respond for a few moments. You’ve moved on to washing a pillowcase now, which is significantly less soiled than your Master’s blouse. “Why do you care?”
“I care because I hate to see My Lovely Lady of the Creek in distress. Even if she is completely vexed by the sight of me,” He says lightly, as you tilt your head down to hide the way your cheeks burn. He reaches up his right hand and produces a silver coin from behind your ear. You stare at it in puzzlement as he hands it to you. “What was your nightmare about?”
You hesitate just a moment before taking the silver coin. “Is this bribery?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie announces with a wry smile. “For your thoughts.”
You sigh. You could use the coin, you’ll admit. Maybe you could buy yourself a new robe, or a loaf of bread from the baker, or any other of the myriad things you’re in want of. 
You tuck the coin down the front of your bodice, where it slides down and gets stuck between your ribcage and your chemise. Eddie’s eyes follow the path that it takes between your breasts with a hungry glint in them. 
“There was a wolf,” you tell him quietly, going back to your work. “It came to my door bleeding. I brought it inside and nursed it. But when I woke, there wasn’t a wolf. It was just a nightmare.”
“Oh,” Eddie hums amusedly. “I wouldn’t call that a nightmare. I’d rather call it a dream.”
“A dream?” you echo with a scoff. 
“Yes. A lovely dream, with a heroine and a lonely beast in need of kindness.” He leans towards you, his hands on his knees. “But, you know what they say about wild things.”
You huff with indignance, but humor him, because you’re curious in spite of yourself. “I don’t know. What do they say?”
“You shouldn’t show them kindness,” he whispers, so close to your ear that you can feel his breath on your neck. “They’ll keep coming back for more.”
You startle, standing up with a noisy splash of water as you yank the last of the laundry from the creek. There’s a flush under your bodice that you don’t like, sticking to the coin that’s going hot against your skin as you think about it even being there. That it was produced by his hand. The more you think about it, the more you imagine it as an extension of his body, touching you just beneath your breast. 
Eddie snickers to himself as you hurriedly, shakily, smack the last piece of laundry into the basket with the rest, and pick up the washboard from the water. With a frustrated huff, you stand and rest the basket of laundry on your hip. You gaze out across the creek, and then away towards the trees, and finally, when you’re sure you can form words, you turn back to him. 
“Goodbye, Mr. Munson,” you say stiffly, so that you don’t trip over your own tongue. It comes out icily as a result, and you turn away to hide the way that you blush.
“Until we meet again.” Eddie presses his lips together, as though he’s stifling a laugh. Then he says, in a slightly bossy tone, “Take care of that arm for me, princess. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.”
You whirl around to ask him to repeat that– what the hell did you just say?– but when you do, the man is already gone. Along with any trace of his presence by the creekside. 
Except, the coin he bought your dream with still grows warm against the heat of your skin, under your bodice. 
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heaven4lostgirls · 11 months
Text
promises and dreams
pairing: finnick odair x reader
warning: angst, mentions of throwing up and blood, canon typical death and violence included!
summary: finnick odair is your best friend, but somehow you cant find it within yourself to be aanything more. Now that the 75th Hunger Games calls for Victors to be reaped you make it your plan to bring Finnick back home to Annie or you will die trying
word count: 1.3k
a/n: sorry ive been gone for so long! i have just finished uni so i am working on getting some more content out as soon as i can! have this to tide you over in the mean time but i can't wait to get back to posting! part 2?
part 1, part 2, part 3
You were sitting in the victors village of district 4 as you turned on the television to listen to the reaping news for the 75th Hunger Games. Your glass on the table in front of you was filled with amber liquid to quell the anxiety you felt as you hear Snow’s grating voice flood your home. Your hands are shaking as you’re forced to relive the memories of your own hunger games, which you had won at only 16.  
The victors that came after you were mentored by either you, or Finnick Odair, the Capitol’s prince. You had a harder time disassociating from  being a mentor when your tributes were in the games, Finnick always seemed so determined to get them sponsors and help them  in any way he could but for you, it was almost as worse as being in the games yourself.
Finnick and you had always been close, only drifting apart when his womanly companions found it necessary, he spend more time with them rather than you. You couldn’t blame them, if Finnick was yours you too would probably be uncomfortable but that never meant it hurt any less to see your best friend discard you as though you were nothing.
The only person you could never find it in yourself to dislike was ironically the only one of his  partner’s that  never dismissed  you, Annie Cresta. She was the epitome of beauty to you, there was no question about why Finnick fell in love with her. She had  been dealt just as bad of a hand in her own games and the both of you had found solace in one another. She could  not have been a better fit for Finnick and although your heart felt as though it was shattering each time you were forced to watch him look at her the way you longed, he would  look at you, you stayed strong.
That was how you found a paternal comfort in Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss Everdeen’s mentor, he was one of the only people who understood how easy it was for you to turn to drinking in favour of trying to find your tributes sponsors because of your own trauma. He knew just as well as you did just how  hard your games were for you; you had fought tooth and nail to make it back to your family only for them to turn you away in disgust for the atrocities you had committed in the games.
One of them always haunting you, You and 12-year-old George were the last tributes standing in the arena and you knew straight away that there was no way you would  be going home, you couldn’t kill him. That was until he ran to attack you and in a strike of defence you had pushed him, he had landed on one of the spears of the dead tributes. His lifeless eyes have haunted your nightmares to  this day.
As you tune back into the Capitol TV, you hear Snow’s voice state, “…the third quarter quell games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors from each district”. Your heart thuds inn your chest as bile rises in your throat. You can feel your eyes burning with unshed tears as you disconnect from reality.  The only thing that brings you back is the realisation that the other victors may  just as well be in the same predicament.
You get up to go to Finnick’s house, the light is on, so you know he must be at home so as you knock on the door, shaking on the front step in either coldness or fear, you’re no longer sure, you’re greeted with Finnick’s hard gaze as he opens the door to let you in. You whisper a small greeting as your eyes travel to the couch in front of the TV where Annie sits, she’s a mess of tears and you can only hold off for so long before you make your way towards her to comfort her.  
Finnick watches the both of you in pain and worry as you try and keep yourself composed to focus on Annie, you know just how hard it must  be for her, she had never truly been okay after her games so right then you had made the decision. If Annie’s name was ever called, you would volunteer for her, you could not sit at home and watch one of your best friends relive their pain on national television as you sat back and did nothing.
“I can’t believe this; how can they  do this?  After our games we were supposed to live! I can’t go back there” Annie says, and you softly rock the both of you as you rub her back, you look over her shoulder to where Finnick is standing and watching you both as his features tighten in anger.
“It’s going to be okay, I promise, you’re not going into that arena, okay?” Annie pulls away and looks  up at you in shock and she’s shaking her head as she lifts her hand to her mouth to stifle her sobs. “You can’t” She says, and you smile back at her as you tuck her long hair behind her ear as you move to hug her, whispering in her ear, “I will make sure he comes back to you” and Annie  squeezes you tighter.
You realise then that whatever happens in the reaping and the games, that  its much bigger than you. Since Finnick had a high chance of volunteering for any of the younger and older victors you  knew that it was up to you to bring him back home. He had a reason to come back, Annie needed him more than you did, and you acknowledge that even if he had never loved you the same way you may love him, that with you dying breath you would make sure he came back to Annie.
The day of the reaping, you stood in the middle of Annie and Mags as they took out  the name for the female tribute, “The female tribute from District 4 is, Annie Cresta-“ Before the announcer is done speaking your mouth moves without thinking, “I volunteer as tribute.” You state with confidence and hear Annie flinch as tears rise in her eyes. You let go of her hand and walk to the front of the podium, the announcer looks at you in shock and sympathy before she announces, “Our Volunteer in place of Annie Cresta, Y/N Y/LN!” she states.
You feel Finnick’s hard gaze on you as they wait for the announcement of the male tribute. When Finnick’s name is called, your heart clenches in pain at the thought of your best friend having to see you die in the arena. His demeanour instantly  switches to play the part of the Capitol’s  prince as he makes his way to stand next to you.  You both smile at the crowd as you make your way towards the train to say goodbye  to your loved ones.
As Finnick and Annie say heartfelt goodbye’s you realise that nobody has come to see you, you wipe the tears pooling in your eyes as Annie turns to you after saying bye to Finnick, she runs and hugs you and thanks you softly in your ear. You squeeze her tightly and reiterate your previous promise before you’re met with the solemn gaze of Finnick.
You nudge him with your arm and playfully tease him, “That looks isn’t very Capitol Prince of you Finn”, his strained smile does not go unnoticed, but you attest it to the pain of having to relive the games however the only thought running through Finnick’s  mind is how he plans on keeping you safe.
Somehow you both think that trying to save the other might just be your own downfall.
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