#I love him with every molecules in my body | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shaisuki · 11 months ago

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POSITIVE TEST RESULTS

ft. gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, geto suguru

content warnings ─── pregnancy, babytrapping, noncon, dubious consent, stockholm syndrome, implied abuse, breeding kink, mentions of abortion, allusions to suicide. dead dove do not eat.

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ a baby! the excitement and the incomprehensible joy they felt when they are expecting from you. a blessing or a curse? anyways, no matter what it is to keep you in place with them.

GOJO SATORU

the six eyes are everything. it can see the unknown and the forces that dwells that is invisible in the naked eye. satoru is grateful for the power he wield and it is the most useful in also keeping an eye on you. he knows it first before you can. the breath you take, the first step you make and the rhythm of your heartbeat. wether it was racing from the fear or the continuous pleasure he gives to you while he pumps his fingers into your tight hole.

there's nothing the six eyes he possess can't see and it's no different when he hears the first heartbeat of his child formed into your womb.

his child. he is having a child with you and satoru was over the moon when he found out.

long arms encased your soft form in his lap. your back in his chest while he hums a song. his lips ghosting on the expanse of your exposed shoulders. playfully nibbling on the skin when he hears the tiniest of whimper from you.

large palms drapes in your stomach. kneading the layered flesh like a cat making biscuits. satoru hums in delight. contented at this domestic bliss without too much fuss from you. you could be such a handful at times but it was fine to him. you were still adjusting to this life. a new environment for you and for him.

after numerous of escape attempts, he declares the staff and servants alike in the gojo household to be incompetent. it wouldn't happen if they were doing their job. he founds it useless and he took the matter in his own hand.

a penthouse to keep you. luxurious it was for one's taste. equipped with the latest security and glasses so thick that a bullet cannot dent it. money was no problem for it. gojo has an endless wealth to spend it especially for you. the safety and welfare of his wife always in the top of his priorities and it was worth every single penny of it. you cannot be bored taking the view of the city lights in the night time. overlooking the streets of tokyo.

pleasant it is but to you, beautiful the penthouse is but no matter how gilded it is, it is still a cage and you were the bird.

he breathes into your scent. it has been days since he touched you and satoru savors every second of it. your body a wonderland to him and he must be the only to explore it. satoru doesn't shy away from touching the parts that you didn't like. giving it the most of attention to prove it to you how much he loves it. particularly your stomach. lately, he's been obsessed with it. the talks of getting you pregnant and seeing you with child sparks the joy deep inside him.

satoru's patient. waiting for the result of the labor and love you both had poured in creating a life and he knows it is not that fast but he made sure you were properly bedded every chance he can get. now, all he had to do is wait. he may or may not been activating his technique to ensure you are with his child.

it happened in a blink of an eye when he first felt it. it was like an explosion of tiny molecules and forms into one. a dew rolling from a leaf and creating a ripple in calm waters. then he can hear the small “thump” of a heartbeat and you were rewarded by the sweetest of kiss and the next words he uttered were static in your ears.

“i'm not. it's my body. i'm the first one to know it.” you mutter. reasoning the most obvious truth and it was just a lie your ears want to hear.

“why would i lie to you, i can see and feel everything and that includes you, my wife.” he confidently counters to you. his voice never faltering in enthusiasm as he reveals the newfound joy to you.

your lashes are clumpy and the familiar stinging sensation makes way to your eyes. there is no way you will be carrying this man's child. you can't. you can't bear it. you can't carry this child. not with this man. you already feared the day it would come and now. you didn't realize the first drops of tears came cascading down you cheeks. placing your hand in your stomach and clutching the flesh like the fetus inside of you will magically disappear. this child wasn't even born yet and you're dreading you would become a mother to this one.

“don't cry, (y/n). i promised you didn't i? i will take care both of you.” he ever so sweetly convinced you to carry with this pregnancy and you felt manipulated again and then you were just a puppet.

“you've been a good wife to me. what's the difference of being a mother to our child.” he says, consoling you in his way that would only matter to him. you're carrying his child and as your husband and him being a father in the next months, you would be provided with the utmost care from him. starting on how he's going to worship this body of yours. pregnant and sensitive.

he's already kneeling in front of you. his blue eyes all of it's glory. staring at you with such adoration while he kisses the roundness of your stomach. pressing his cheek in the flesh. wanting to hear the faint thump of the heartbeat of his unborn child.

you tried to push him away. pressing your thighs together to avoid further ministrations from him but gojo effortlessly pried your thighs open. easily diving to get closer to you while his hands holds your wrist.

“satoru—ahhh” a moan accidentally slipping past your lips. his nose nudging the slit of your cunt before taking a lick from it. his hold on your wrist tighter as you tried to stop him.

“satoru, no—ahh” he chuckles. hearing you moan again and gojo takes pride of that. he ought to make you happy. furthermore increasing the success rate of you giving birth to a healthy son or maybe a daughter. frankly, he don't care. a child with you is better than none. a baby would eliminate all the problems he used to have with you and all the fuss will decrease.

such sweet cries for me, my adorable wife. he thought. your grip getting weaker the more his tongue laps up the slick coming out from your sweet cunt.

submit to him and let him do all the work. he did promise he will take care of you. for now, let him taste you. claim his reward for all the efforts.

you wouldn't deny him of his happiness, eh?

NANAMI KENTO

it's not everyday you can see a man with a built like nanami looms and searches from every rack of the pharmacy looking for a pregnancy test.

he's not getting his hopes up but rather ensuring that you are just fine and well though deep inside he's hoping that you are expecting. nanami had been dreaming of a domestic bliss lately. a child with you. hopefully one that looks and takes after you. he would be so happy.

nanami sighs, adjusting his glasses and shaking his thoughts of you being pregnant with his child. your welfare comes first before any others.

he's gone in the day before he comes home in the evening and the very first step he took in his home, he knew something was up.

the bathroom lights was on and there he sees your plush form kneeling in front of the toilet, spilling the contents of your stomach.

by the sound of his footsteps getting nearer he noticed how your body turned rigid.

“uhmmm.” flushing the toilet and standing up to turn on the faucet. letting the cold water run through the drain and wipe your mouth stained with vomit. trying to hide the evidence of you being sick.

“are you okay?” his stern voice cutting through the nervousness creeping up on you. large palms cupping your cheeks gently. you nod. “just a bit tired, actually. i'm going to bed.” you excused and with the furrows of your brows and that frown in your lips. nanami is sure what you're trying to hide.

he grabs a multiple of test kits. it's better to be sure before checking it out along with a few necessities for him to bring home.

when you see the pregnancy test kits being handed to you. you gave him a puzzled look. “i'm not. it's just the bug or something.” you reason to him. shielding yourself from the possibility of what he's implying.

“i know. better be sure than never, my love.” he managed to convince you and with that you took the test.

“why, ken? why would i be pregnant? i never missed taking the pills!” you asked him. sobs racking throughout your body as you look at the multiple pregnancy stick resting in the sink. all positive.

cruel and heartless and beyond him, nanami may or may not have tampered your pills. he never did intended to do this but lately you have been being stubborn than you are. his choices leading him to this unwanted pregnancy for you but to him he was happy. always wanted to be a good husband and a father to his child with you.

“accidents happen. we're in this together, okay?” it was never be fine with you. you can't be pregnant. “no—no!” your voice raising into a pitch. “i can't carry this child.” you could never. if kento was willing to shackle you with those cuffs, what's the difference it would be to your child. already chained to this man.

it took him a few minutes to fully calm you down. you're settled in the bed with him behind you. “i would be present throughout the duration of your pregnancy.” he assures you. bundling your hair in fist and putting it aside. kissing your nape and the gesture sending a shiver down your spine. “you are going to be a good mother.” peppering kisses to your shoulder blade and his other hand wanders until it reaches you belly. plump and squishy. in the next months it's going to be rounder and firmer. swollen with his child.

“i'm unfit to be a mother.” you whisper and nanami murmurs to your skin. “you're not.” pressing a tender kiss in the spot of your pulse in your neck. “i will harm this child.” you warned. “i will keep you confined to bed if needed then, but set aside those thoughts for me. i won't allow such things.” holding a firm hold to your jaw and then he whispers to you.

“allow me, my wife.” your body jolts in response. his index finger prodding your hole while rubbing your clit. “let me reward you for such wonderful news.” the gravel in his voice getting mellow. nanami won't allow you to harm yourself or the child you are carrying.

if it means of complete submission coming from you. nanami would not think twice of doing it over and over again. for now, he's happy you're gracing his home with a child. hopefully, it would take your mind off from the trivial things.

FUSHIGURO TOJI

it wasn't a surprise when toji received the news of you being pregnant. he did breed you well. mounting you every night like you were nothing but a fleshlight and his cumdump.

you were only given a raised brow and a cocky smirk coming from him. oh, how did he love the look on your face. scared and bothered of the reality of you being a mother to his child. toji wasn't that interested in becoming a father either but now it's a thrill. thinking of the ways he can control you without you resisting him.

“is that so?” he asks bored. disinterested even before breaking into a smirk. “now, you won't even think of opposing me.” patting your round belly in a degrading manner. once the spotlight for mockery and humiliation he used to hold you. “my brat spawning in to you. i did give you plenty of it.” he says amused.

a invisible leash wrapped around your neck for him to pull as he pleases. with the presence of the baby in your womb it looks like the future of yours is getting bleak with no hope for you along with the little one growing inside you.

it would curse you for being the mother and the father it will grow up with.

your body feels like lead. stuck in the mattress and every time you move, you sink deeper and maybe it was better until it swallows you whole. you wished it was that easy.

“spread your legs wider.”

you bite back a whimper. bile rising up in your throat as your body moves in autopilot. listening in what he orders to you. “geez, all those troubles i had to deal with and you're only this obedient when pregnant. maybe i'll just keep you pregnant all the time.” licking his lips before leaning closer to you. his breath in your ear.

there's a stinging sensation in your cunt while his cock slowly bullies inside you followed by a groan coming from him. his teeth nibbling in the shell of your ear and you bit your lip. silently taking him while he relishes on the feel of your tight hole spasming around his length.

“you're tight as ever. you don't mind me filling you up again, wife?” you remained silent. his power overwhelming you and toji chuckles. “then, don't mind me”

GETO SUGURU

there's been quite a commotion in his own little family and geto paid no mind to it. having a cult to run that requires his attention every now and then. seriously, stupid monkeys can't be trained without him and there's also those who can't keep their money running stable. quite trouble.

anyways he had to know what is causing those commotions that keeps everyone in high spirits. there he meet nanako and mimiko gushing over his chubby darling. seated in one of the chairs while the twins surrounds you. mimiko brushing your hair while the other twin, nanako holds your hand. soothing and assuring you of a situation he have yet to learn.

“geto-sama.” the twins greeted him. bowing their head a little before giggling a bit of the news they recently learned. “(y/n)-sama received news from the doctor earlier. they said she's expecting.” they broke to him and geto sees you in the corner of his eye uncomfortably shifts in your seat. “leave us.” he instructs the girls and they oblige. scurrying to leave the room in glee.

by the gods above, he worships you more. if only you knew that. it would be a weakness if he shows how much he adores you. he's in control. he's above you. you could never surpass that.

his lover on front of him shifts her gaze away from him and geto grasp your chin in his index and thumb finger. forcing you to meet his steely gaze in the purple abyss of his eyes. “i'm sorry.” you first speak up to him. biting your lower lip to hold a sob.

he can see you're scared. “what for?” he asks. searching for those gleaming eyes of yours, now misty. “for being pregnant.”

geto scoffs playfully at you. “there's nothing to be sorry. a wonderful news for us.” he assures you and you swallow the invisible lump in your throat. “is it?” you reply to him and he smiles. “it is.”

“i lay with you every night. made sure you are properly bedded by me.” no shame of that and there's a deep rumble of his laughter upon seeing your flustered expression. it's almost real how he looks so happy.

he is. when suguru decided to eradicate non-sorcerers he thought of how he's going to fill a country with sorcerers then you came to his life and he would be the creator of the new era. a bloodline. it would be his. yours and his. children that would carry his will and would be the part of a country where they are safe for him.

the news of you expecting. he can see the cogs being place to each of their respective places. already fulfilled.

his palms rough against your skin and yet it brings comfort to you. warmth. long gone he replaced the uneasiness in your heart with his and all the doubts you had of him. now, you're ready what he is about to make use of you. no questions. no qualms. all for him.

“you're mine.” he reminded you once again and you fall harder for him than the last time. “yours.” you whisper.

you were rewarded by a kiss. divinity touching you and warmth blooms all over you along with his hands wandering. to your round cheeks. squishing your chest and his palm in your round belly. imagining all the things he is already to do with your growing body with his child and geto is ecstatic.

his long and thick fingers finds the back of your obi and pulls the hem with no hesitation.

“mmm, suguru~” you mewl and geto smirks at how fast it takes for you to submit to him. “lay with me again tonight.” hands pinching to your supple flesh. fingers rubbing the spot between your legs and with a need. you grind your hips against them.

“as you wish.”

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #geto x reader #yandere jjk #yandere jjk x reader #tw pregnancy #cw pregnancy

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 5 months ago

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Caught at the last second with Clark Kent?

.⋆｡The Fall｡⋆.

Clark Kent x plus size reader

Faced with a choice between you and Lois, Clark has to decide who lives and who dies

Warnings: angst, fear of heights, literally a life and death situation guys, unrequited love (maybe), vivid imagery of drowning, kind of ambiguous but happy ending (you’ll see) WC: 1.1k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Isn’t this a predicament Superman? Your ex-lover and your best friend in such precarious situations, across the globe from each other. You’ll only have time to save one of them.” The LEDs of the monitors behind Luther seared into Clarks eyes but he refused to look away. Already his muscles were tensed, ready to dart away at any moment. “I wonder which one you will choose, I know which one I would.”

Luther smirked, eyeing the monitor that clearly displayed your panicked face as you struggled against the chains wrapped tightly around your soft body. “She is quite the fighter, isn’t she?”

“Why are you doing this Luther?” The man rolled his eyes, finally turning to look at Clark.

“Why wouldn’t I? You are a nuisance, self-righteous, and aggravatingly nosy. If I kill one of them, and I will, I think you’ll learn your lesson. So, here we are. Lois Lane, the only woman you have ever loved, suspended over a cliff somewhere in Europe,” Luther gestured to the image of Lois, her head raising as his voice repeated over the feed and Clark realised that they could both hear what was happening, “and your best friend. The woman who has never stopped supporting you, somewhere in the Pacific with an anchor attached to her, I’m sure you can imagine what her fate is.” The man had the audacity to laugh then, as your expression fell and you stopped struggling.

“You don’t have to do this Luther. Just let them go and I’ll spare you.”

Lex hummed. “You know, you’re right. This is quite boring by my standards, let’s shake it up.” Suddenly, a ground of masked men surrounded you, briefly blocking the camera before there was a scuffle and the feed cut off. Before Clark could react, another camera turned on, showing the criss-crossing metal beams of a crane as cables in the background shifted in the high winds. “Give them a minute, would you? Not all of us can move so quickly.”

“I’m going to rip you apart, molecule by molecule.” Red creeped into Clark’s vision, slowly casting a haze of rage over everything.

“Now, if you kill me, you won’t get a hint as to where your women are. So be a good boy and watch. Ah, there she is.” Two men had you by your arms as they dragged you through the crane’s walkway, your eyes squeezed shut. Clark knew how badly you hated heights, descending into panic attacks if he even mentioned taking you out on a flight. His chest burned with fear. “And now, we have a level playing field. So, who are we picking?”

Your chains were thrown onto the edge of the structure, almost out of the camera’s line of sight, the huge iron anchor balancing treacherously by your feet.

“Kal!” His eyes darted over to the second monitor where Lois was now fighting against a pulley that was quickly tugging her towards a sheer cliff face. Only her hands were bound by thick rope but he knew that as soon as her full body weight pulled on it, the rope would snap.

“What’s the hint?” He snarled, ripping his gaze back to Lex Luther who was now beaming.

——————

The cold wind was like knives against your exposed skin, cutting into every nerve on your body. You desperately prayed that you would go numb soon, not wanting your last moments on this Earth to be ones full of pain. Your nails bit into the palms of your hands as another gust of wind made the crane groan and sway. It was all you could do not to scream.

Yet you kept your mouth firmly shut because you knew that if you said or did anything now, it would only feed into Clark’s guilt. He was going to pick Lois and you wanted to give him peace of mind. You forced your eyes open to watch the sunset. Your death would not be quick, even with the dizzying height, it would not be enough to kill you. Instead, you would be dragged to the depths as salt water filled your lungs and your screams forcefully ripped from you.

You wouldn’t blame Clark as you sank, you hope that you could instead think about his smile as the dim light above you disappeared into the blue.

You would not tell him that you loved him, refused to leave that weight on his soul when he already carried so much pain within him. But you would imagine a life with him, a kid, maybe two in a small townhouse somewhere quiet, as the pressure and cold consumed you.

Lois’s voice crackled through the intercom by your head, distorted and warped. A band of fear wrapped tightly around your chest, pressing down harder than the metal chain keeping your arms pinned to your sides. You forced yourself to breathe in the salty air, knowing that it could be your last.

“I’ll be ok Clark, don’t worry about me. Just be happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” And as the sun dipped below the horizon, you let your eyes shut again, your entire body relaxed. “I’ll be ok.”

Metal scrapped against metal. You were pulled forwards.

The wind screamed.

You could see the vivid blue of his eyes.

You were weightless.

You could hear his laughter.

The chains rattled.

You saw the moment you met him; the rain around you, a single umbrella between you.

The sound of waves crashing was getting closer.

He was always so kind, so warm. You never knew a man better than him.

Gravity slammed into you, knocking a pained cry from your lips. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Warmth enveloped you as something crashed into the ocean, droplets of water splashing against your ankles. Your cheek was pressed against something hard as a loud, frantic beating filled your ears. “You’re safe.”

Soft fabric wrapped around you, soothing the burn of your skin. Shakily, you reached up, your limbs stiff and aching. “Clark?” With all the strength you had left, you opened your eyes.

You were barely 5 feet up front the ocean swell, a hazy ring of bubbles below you was the only indication that something had been dragging you down at all. Clark was indeed there, holding you tightly to his chest as a huge abandoned oil rig loomed behind him, half of it on fire. His eyes were wide, fearfully examining every inch of your body before his shoulders drooped and he sighed in relief.

“No broken bones or internal bleeding. Thank god.” His lips descended onto your forehead, pressing kiss after kiss to your cold skin.

“You picked me?” He pulled away only enough to look into your eyes.

“I always will.” A hand cupped the back of your neck, drawing your face upwards. Your lips parted as he glanced at them. “I will do anything to keep you safe.”

And as the fires behind him, Clark finally kissed you, washing away the smell of blood and screams of pain that he had inflicted upon those who took you from him. No one would ever hurt you again.

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augustinewrites · 1 year ago

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you should absolutely add naoya to the story!!!! i would LOVE some drama between gojo and that loserrrr i just know they hate each other so MUCH

useful context for this fic can be found in three conditions!

"'salt to taste,'" satoru reads, already confused. "what the hell does that even mean?"

tuesdays are always his day to cook dinner - meaning the second you smell something burning, you kick him out of the kitchen to take over - but you'd left about left twenty minutes ago to pick the kids up from karate, so he's on his own.

shrugging, he pours a questionable amount of salt into the bowl of vegetables he's been attempting to season.

after tossing in the rest of the spices, the next step is to cook over medium-high heat. so he flicks the stove on, leaning against the counter as he waits for the pan to heat up.

that's when a knock sounds at the door.

he doesn't move, hoping whoever it is just gives up and goes away. he wasn't expecting any guests, and the backup food he'd ordered shouldn't be arriving for another half hour.

but whoever it is bangs on the door this time, clearly impatient and wanting to get on his nerves.

huffing, he flicks the stove off and stomps to the door, yanking it open.

"you've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"still as uncouth as ever, i see," naoya zenin scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"and you're still as ugly as i remember," he fires back. "no wait— uglier."

that gets the reaction satoru's hoping for, naoya scowling as he says. "seems the rumours are true. my dear relative's run away to become a gojo whore."

satoru barely manages to keep his hands off the blond's throat, because killing him would start an all out war with the zen'ins, and he isn't ready to make waves (yet).

it wouldn't take much force to just put his head through the wall, would it?

"just tell me what you want so i can say no," he says instead, voice fighting to remain steady.

god, he hates the smug look on his face as he asks, "how much do you want?"

"excuse me?"

"how much do you want," he repeats slowly, as if he were talking to a particularly stupid animal. "for her. and the fushiguro boy."

it takes satoru a moment to realize what exactly he's asking for, the request so outlandish that he can hardly believe it. "how much do i— you're insane."

he goes to slam the door, but naoya is quick to catch it.

"it's only right that they should be with their family, don't you think?"

"and that's you?"

"if we're being sentimental about it, yes."

"well, they're not for sale," he says firmly, removing his sunglasses and tucking them into his pocket. every molecule of restraint is quickly leaving his body. "nor will they ever be. now leave."

stupid as he is, naoya senses the thinly veiled threat and turns on his heel, satoru keeping his eyes trained on him until he disappears down the hall.

_____

"naoya stopped by."

"what did he want?" you ask, lips already pulled down into a frown as you take another dish to dry.

"you and megumi."

"of course he does," you sigh, setting the plate aside and resting your palms on the counter "they want ten shadows."

"what are we going to do?" he asks seriously. "what if next time they don't ask?"

"there's not much we can do right now," you tell him grimly. "it’s the zen’in clan, satoru. we just need to keep our heads down and focus on getting megumi into jujutsu tech. at least he won't be so vulnerable with all of us around—”

“hey, hey,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours. “i’m not going to let anything happen to you both. you know that, right?”

“i know,” you smile, kissing the tip of his nose. “that’s why i’m not suggesting we’ve halfway across the world.”

“that’s not a bad idea. we could move somewhere hot and tropical. i’d get to see you in a swimsuit almost everyday…”

“you’d get sunburnt,” you correct, laughing as he nudges his face into the crook of your neck.

“i’d happily let myself get sunburnt if it meant you were safe,” he murmurs into your skin. “the kids would probably eviscerate me if i let anything happen to you.”

“of course they would. they’d starve otherwise.”

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

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samubytheocean · 6 months ago

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imagine hot summer days

It’s so hot, you imagine if it’s what it is like to be buried. You wonder if people will be able to smell the love of his gaze on you at this moment. You pray that they will.

Fluff, little something based on my previous post cuz I am a sucker for summer

Hot summers. The ac is broken with a week until the AS comes, so it’s a lazy afternoon on your bed, wearing the skimpiest tank and shorts, laying down flat with the fan on the highest setting. You’ve got a glass of ice linked between your arms, switching every now and then to keep both sides cool. It’s a pretty desperate attempt to stay sane in this burning weather, especially when you’ve got this furnace of a boy laying flat next to you.

He looks loopy as well, sweaty hair sticking to his slightly red face. You guys are sharing a pillow, the biggest form of intimacy you’ll allow at the moment, and his breath fans around the humid room across to your face, smelling like soap and wooden gym floor. It’s comforting. He’s comforting. The white sound of the fan and the occasional airplane noise is almost to lure you to sleep- maybe you’re passing out. You wouldn’t mind, you’re in the safest hands- until you feel hot fingertips feather on your stomach. You open your eyes and glance at the handsome boy, who’s still looking up at the ceiling with heavy eyelids, but pretty face barely holding back the smile. You softly snap the hand away.

“It’s hot.” You whisper.

“You’re hot.” He whispers back. You roll your eyes affectionately. You can’t tell if it’s the heat or he is actually blushing. Ever so charming. You hate that it works every time. You’re blushing.

“I really am. So please stay on your side of the bed.”

“Like this?” He leans over to you, the body clearly not touching, but you can feel the warmth radiate from him. Despite his cheeky teasing, you feel content. Your eyes soften. You feel held, and it’s something about summer that you love. You already felt like he was touching you- everywhere, so warm and hot and drowsy but oh so passionate. Yeah summer. Young, stupid love. But he’s yours, and he looks at you, your entire face.

His love is observing you. And torturing you with terrible lines, but his gaze dips you into something people will only call youth. And love. You memorize his scent. You know it will be held part of your own musk, for longer than you’ll live. You think about being buried under a willow tree. You pray that other lovers- in a hot summer day just like this- will catch the scent of this moment and pass it on. It’s the kind of moments you’ll write poetry about, and pray that people will read on your grave. You hope to live, to be recognized just as this moment, all down to the molecules. Not because he owns you- but you’ll be named after his love, for only he truly knows the symbols you speak.

“Yeah. Like that.”

“Sleepy?”

“A little.”

“I’ll wake you up when it gets a little cooler.”

You know he won’t. His big built body is getting warmer just like how it gets when he gets sleepy. You know he isn’t going to set that alarm. But you wouldn’t mind jerking up at 11 pm all in sweat and fake complaining to him for letting you two to miss an entire day. You wouldn’t mind his sleepy, firm and gentle hands pull you back into the bed. It’s just a day. It’s just a very hot summer day.

And honestly? You wouldn’t even mind missing a sweet little eternity if it’s with your boy.

OSAMU, AKAASHI, SUGAWARA, TSUKISHIMA, KUROO, KITA, IWAIZUMI

SUGURU, CHOSO

JEAN, EREN

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peggyao3 · 26 days ago

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Relic - Pt. 16 "Destroyer of Worlds"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧ Dreams are messages from the deep ✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: Third person POV, she/her AFAB FMC, explicit sexual content, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum and big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, plans within plans, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced abuse, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable/ Emotional/Possessive Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, murder, teaching the universe about feminism, female rage, Frank Herbert would frown, No actually he would kneel in front of me, putting the science and the porn in sci-fi, angst with a happy ending

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

A/N: We're really getting there now 🥹🥹🥹 I'm so excited. And I'm very pleased with this chapter 🤭 I can't wait to hear what you think!

Reposted from my Ao3💕| Masterlist | Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

← Previous Chapter, Next Chapter →

Day 100

No guards frame the door that is tall and glinting back, just like Feyd had assured her. When she had approached it and passed through it several weeks prior, she thought it may as well lead to hell, but today she is certain of it. Except it won't be Feyd's hell or hers, it will be his.

And he will have no time for tricks.

With her gun of clear, shiny plastic raised in front of her chest, the relic enters Baron Vladimir Harkonnen's bath chambers.

The scented, herbal fog hasn't grown as dense and thick yet and the white, fleshy heap at the center of the tub fills out her sight at once. And unexpectedly, there is movement to the right, not a guard or a servant but Glugo who quivers in a damp basket near the wall.

While the woman's eyes are briefly averted, the Baron's shield flares up around his misshapen form at a flick against the massive, silver band at his middle finger. The smallest and priciest model on the market, Ixian technology.

"I expected my nephew," he drones, voice amplified by the vaulted ceiling but distorted by the shield.

"Hands on the pool edge," the woman demands, voice as cold as cryogenic vapor. Vladimir acquiesces, unable to reach for the transponder behind his ear. An invisible muscle ticks at his fleshy jaw.

"I hold audiences every Freitak," he attempts to jest, arms spread out in mockery as he adjusts them on the slippery edge. "No need to assault me in my own bath chambers."

A blunder, he realizes quickly as her face hardens with rancor. Not a molecule would fit between her clenched teeth.

"You're troubled because of what you saw," he concludes. "It was a mistake." Vladimir concedes all too quickly. His finesse seems to have evaporated along with the curling steam and he realizes he knows nothing substantial about the woman.

"Quite," she confirms curtly, closing in with slow, deliberate steps. The crosshair projected by her interface, only for her eyes to see, dances over the Baron's face, but she won't take any risks. At the center of the vaulted chamber, a generous distance separates them still, but she feels more confident in her aim.

Pulling a trigger is as easy as dropping a bomb. She should have it in her. Her kin have dropped bombs like rainfall back in the slaughterhouse warfare for oil and soil and rare earths.

The Baron gawks at the muzzle, an unassuming hole among glossy, alien plastic. His old eyes might be deceiving him, but he thinks he can see the inner cogs and channels shimmering through the surface, and a metallic component that doesn't belong.

A lasgun! She's either a maniac or an idiot! Or truly a relic of long-forgotten ages, like the sisterhood had said.

He could either deactivate his shield and die certainly, saving the palace and the capital from nuclear fallout, or he could take them down with him, his nephew included.

"You don't want to fire a lasgun at me, kid."

His voice booms and the Tleilaxu creature leaps out of its basket, hand-feet splatting across the damp tiles. Thank God, it flees out the door, the relic thinks. That tiny moment of inattentiveness is enough for Vladimir to flick the switch at the ring on his pointer, a special gift that was given to him just a few days ago, and just in time. Already, he feels safer.

"That's not a normal lasgun." Her attention is back on the Baron and she smiles knowingly. Vladimir despises the self-assured look of it.

"We can find a civilized solution for this," he declares with renewed confidence. Pretending to think, he sways his fatty neck from side to side. "I know my nephew has plenty to offer, so I don't see why we shouldn't be able to share."

She laughs out brightly, a sound like a whiplash across the Baron's heaving chest. "Where I'm from, there's the death penalty for abusers like you. I couldn't build an electric chair, so I brought something else."

"And what have you got there?" Get her talking, he thinks, beady eyes greedily darting for the door.

"Feyd's wedding gift."

"Feyd's wedding—?"

Thumb slipping over the back of the gun, she cocks the hammer.

"Did I understand that correctly? If you miscalculated, this test will cause an atomic explosion?" The memory of a few days prior fills out her mind, easing the terrible anxiety that now dampens her palms. "Yes, but I did not miscalculate." "Then why test it?" Feyd-Rautha had paced anxiously behind her and sized up the heap of towels stacked in the corner of her room, their outline blue and blurred by a softly humming Holtzman shield. "Better to be safe than sorry." "I'd feel sorry if you blew up my planet." "I wouldn't," she had responded with hardness and pulled the trigger. Doing so fires the bullet first, then a fine tuned laser beam from a smaller second muzzle, as light travels faster than matter and the bullet needs more time to reach its target. The double muzzle is calibrated to take the bullet's weight and distance from the target into consideration. Light may have no inherent mass, but photons do transmit impulse. And so the photons that comprise the laser beam collide with the Holtzman shield's nuclei and propel them into motion towards the body they are meant to protect. The beam's impact isn't hard enough to trigger a nuclear chain reaction, but just right to accelerate the nuclei. And by the time the bullet arrives at the crime scene too, its relative velocity to the shield is that of a slow blade. With a thump, the bullet had sunken into the stack of towels.

The door moves at her back and the only reason why she doesn't jump in fright is because she recognizes his footsteps.

"Wait, my darling."

The Baron could weep with joy at the sight of his dear nephew. Not who he had called, but an even more welcome sight. It was he who had given the boy everything; schooling for his cunning mind, planets to govern, blades to play with, toys to warm his heart and his cock with. Everything in exchange for a measly bit of affection!

Feyd-Rautha, dressed from neck to toe with not an inch of skin showing aside from his face and hands, loops his arms around his betrothed's waist, chin tilted and leaning against her temple.

"Let me do it."

Vladimir pales, shuffling in the sloshing bath water as his nephew gently takes the gun from the cursed woman's hand and closes in like a starved viper. His chest rises beneath the full coverage of his suit.

Desperately, the Baron looks at the door.

"My dear nephew, you're falling for a hoax! Do you want to blow up the city?"

Feyd-Rautha stops, still several meters away from the tub. Vladimir seethes.

Anxiously, the relic observes the jittering path of the digital crosshair, weapon out of her hands and out of her control. As Feyd halts, the red mark settles on the Baron's pasty forehead. His aim is perfect.

"You want me dead, then come closer, at least! Look me in the eyes when you do it, my boy." The Baron's tongue flicks out, grey-pinkish flesh, to wet his bottom lip. He wants him so close that he can see the whites in his nephew's eyes before the city blows up. Stripped naked and unarmed aside from the poison needle in the signet ring on his pinkie, he feels more than ever like a heap of flesh, defenseless and abandoned and to his own surprise, it is the latter that hurts most.

Feyd-Rautha doesn't speak.

"Say something, boy! You've had more than enough chances to do this, but you didn't, and I'll tell you why." The Baron raises himself slightly, bulging chest emerging from the inky water. "You don't want to kill your own un—"

The echo of a bang ricochets off the vaulted ceiling and the Baron finds his head knocked back, vision filled with fractured red, his shield dissolved.

With his head rolled on the tub's edge, he can only see the ceiling, and something wet slips over his brow, into his blurry eye. Vladimir had always thought, when Feyd finally manages to kill him, he would ravage his body with blades, take him apart to the last organ, gorge on his flesh while it is still warm. It had almost aroused him.

But his nephew's final touch — denied.

How cruel.

"You did it!" His betrothed's arms loop around his waist from behind, the embrace hard and stormy, her face against his spine. Feyd still stares in awe at the corpse of his uncle, massive, white flesh afloat obscenely in the tub.

"I did," he confirms, his voice hard, with tremors around the edges.

Feyd feels like he should perhaps burst into tears or yell, but none of the like wants to come out of his heart. The accomplishment might take a few days to feel real. What is entirely real, however, is the face of his darling as she slides to his front and cups his cheeks, overjoyed. The tears that his eyes are missing in his, shimmer distinctly in hers and before he knows it, she has tilted his face down to hers and pressed her lips on his, comforting and needy.

Anxiety melts under soft kisses and tears track down her cheeks, coloring their lips with salt.

"I see you've done us all a favor."

Feyd and his woman snap apart, staring in horror to the ajar door. A few steps into the chamber stands a figure swathed in black like a bad omen on the battlefield. The Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam looks appreciatively at the corpse of Baron Harkonnen.

Even through the mesh of her veil, her sharp eyes perceive the wicked twitch of the na-Baron's hands around the gun.

"Hold still!" She commands and Feyd-Rautha's finger freezes at the trigger.

A pop-up blinks in the corner of the relic's interface, signaling the detection of the soundwave pattern she had picked apart a few weeks ago.

"What are you doing here?" The relic hisses, fingers screwed around Feyd's dangling wrist. She looks a tad haggard compared to when the Reverend Mother had last seen her, with a touch of madness in the eyes.

"My presence was requested by the late Baron and he was right to do so."

"Your presence?" Feyd's voice rings out in distaste, aiming for mockery but rage oozes from every strained muscle. The Reverend Mother sees in him a toddler on the verge of a tantrum.

"I wasn't any less surprised than you are, Baron Feyd-Rautha." She tilts her head and with her moves the crass shadow thrown by her oblong headpiece. "That's how I knew the gravity of the situation. Your uncle was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. He had a feeling you were plotting something, so he requested my help, thinking I was the only one who could."

"But you are too late," Feyd barks, fingers clenching helplessly around the gun. "He's dead!"

"He is. And yet, I arrived perfectly on time." The Reverend Mother calmly crosses her hands in front of her body.

"You could have intervened and didn't?" Horror much bigger than when she had the Baron at gunpoint rises to the relic's chest.

"I must confess, I was… curious." Gaius Helen Mohiam waits but the younger woman remains silent. "How did you do it?"

The engineer laughs out, a sound that's shrill and unpleasant from her clamoring heartbeat. "Sure, I'll tell you and give away the single most valuable piece of information in the universe."

The Reverend Mother purses her lips. The truth is, she had made her decision the second the bullet had passed through the Baron's shield. That knowledge must die and not even reach the ears of her own sisters. Temptation brings out the worst in humans and careful plans are traded all too easily for short-lived power.

Perhaps Feyd-Rautha knows too, but he is a force they can control. The wildcard however has no place among them.

"This must not come out," the Reverend Mother declares, her tone a whiplash.

The glint in the wayward woman's eyes tells her everything she needs to know. The terrible relic is not horrified by the idea of throwing the world off balance. She embraces the potential of destruction like a tumor the flesh it feasts on. Thousands of years of selective breeding are at risk at the whims of one wicked catalyst.

"I think maybe it should," the relic snarks.

"You're an abomination!" Mother Mohiam snaps. "You should have stayed in the ice like the fossil you are."

"You shouldn't have thawed me then. This is your doing!"

And this is why the Reverend Mother must undo it. "There is no place for you here," she coldly proclaims.

"Then watch me make one! I'll carve, dig and shoot a mold for myself and if I end up destroying something on the way, I'm not sorry."

"That I can see, and that is precisely why there is no place for you in this world."

Feyd-Rautha stands at his betrothed's side, a shackled guard dog watching the heated exchange between witch and scientist, between the present and the past which might become the future once more.

"It is a pity," the Reverend Mother continues. "But there will be more opportunities to continue this bloodline." She tilts her head, sharp eyes locked onto the relic through the shroud of her veil. "Kill yourself."

Her interface flashes red, a warning at the center of her vision. For a brief moment, all joy fades from her eyes, all hope, and to end her own life seems to be the only logical consequence — until the code sequence she had programmed weeks prior is triggered into action, playing an opposing sound pattern directly into her skull.

Sound waves meet in destructive interference and only a dull, sad ache behind her sternum remains.

Mother Mohiam grows cold with terror when the abomination remains unmoving and smiles.

"You're full of surprises." The Reverend Mother's tone carries a hint of begrudging admiration. Underestimating her is a mistake she won't make again. The woman whose only ability of notable importance seemed to have been prescient dreams had somehow bested her command. But it doesn't matter. There is never only one way to the goal.

Feyd-Rautha realizes that too, but a second too late.

"Kill her."

The na-Baron slackens and turns, soulless eyes holding no recognition. She releases his wrist. Terror devours her when Feyd-Rautha points the gun at her forehead. And just like before, his aim is perfect. A red glow, visible only to her, bleeds into her vision from between her eyes and she remembers.

He aims with the gun that is linked to her brain. The trigger clicks only half a second after she jams it via remote control.

No bullet breaches her skull and the relic stumbles away from her love who stares at the handgun in confusion, pulling the trigger three more times before discarding the weapon with a dissonant clatter. A muscle tics at his jaw, cat like eyes narrowing into slits and he reaches for his belt. Glinting steel emerges from its sheath, a hissing purr. Her betrothed prowls.

"Feyd, don't—" She pleads, backing away with quickening steps. There is nowhere to go, only the tub where she could hide herself behind the Baron's floating corpse. "It's me, you don't want to kill me. You love me!"

"He doesn't know that," Mother Mohiam coldly reminds her and the relic glares hatefully.

"You're destroying his life!" She sobs, stumbling over the steps that lead up to the bathtub and falling on her bum. "How can you live like this? You're the abomination! He will kill you in revenge, he'll blow up your whole planet!"

Her beloved towers right over her, head crowned by a corona of glowglobe shine, his chiseled features entirely calm, innocent.

"Do it!"

"I'm sorry," she cries. "I love you."

Feyd grabs her by the front of her shirt as she tries to roll away. She squirms and sobs pathetically, helpless with no further tricks up her sleeve, no hidden blade or gun, no voice of her own to wield against him or her.

The Reverend Mother raises her chin in triumph, but all of a sudden, there is movement at the door, at the unsuspecting witch's back.

Mikhail Kyelug comes flying through the door, sword flung out in a wide arch. Right after him sprints Lilia, with Glugo clutching her hand.

The Reverend Mother spins in surprise, lips open, but her words are severed along with her head, terrible voice silenced forever as Mikhail's blade cleaves through her neck and spine with an awful crack. The world spins together with her head. The headpiece comes off, giving away thinning, grey hair. Voicelessly, she curses that her last ever sight is Baron Vladimir's Harkonnen's bloated face, dead eyes locked with dead eyes.

Feyd-Rautha whips around from the racket, blade quivering in his clenched fist. The relic's nails have dug inky crescents into his wrist. For a moment, no one moves and three humans and one humanoid wait with bated breath for Feyd to drop the blade.

But the voice is no link to be severed by the wielder's death, it is a temporary alteration of the brain, and so Feyd's face remains empty, shark eyes glaring at the intruders. Mikhail sees it too.

"Back! Back I say!" He roars and barges like a bull. Feyd-Rautha releases the woman's shirt, facing the threat that is bound to crash into him with hissing metal.

Blades collide.

Lilia jumps over the Reverend Mother's corpse and dashes past the fighting pair to collect her weeping Lady from the steps. Glugo's hand-feet splatter after her with haste and it picks up the discarded gun, cradling the devious, shiny thing protectively against its misshapen chest.

Glugo had known right away, when it scuttled past the tall, old witch in the hallway and she had commanded it in that terrible voice to leave, that she meant harm. So, it had ran as fast as it could and pulled at Lilia's hands and skirt, because Lilia would know what to do.

The three of them huddle down in the corner, the relic crying into Lilia's chest. Glugo slips a quivering hand-foot into her palm but its milky eyes are aimed at the center of the room where its friend and Mikhail are grappling and grunting.

By the Sun, the na-Baron fights like a demon! His pupils are shrunken into pinpricks and his mouth is pulled apart into a gashing grin. Mikhail's armor is torn at the shoulder and black blood weeps down his armpit. Every next parry burns as if his muscles were about to tear apart and with the rush of pain comes a rush of clarity.

Fists, not blades.

Mikhail drops his blood-slick sword and catches the na-Baron's wrist, stopping the tip of the blade centimeters away from his neck. Roaring, he shoves the na-Baron backwards until he collides into the wall and slams the taller man's wrist against the tiles, once, twice. Feyd's blade slips out of his twitching fingers and clatters to the ground as his lips skin back from glinting, black teeth in anger.

Mikhail doesn't hesitate. He drives his thick-knuckled fist into the na-Baron's guts like a battering ram. Wearing no armor, Feyd doubles up, spitting saliva across his own chest. Ringed hands grasp at Mikhail's chest plate, attempting to hurl the guard to the ground, but Mikhail's boot crashes into Feyd's pelvis and scarred knuckles find Feyd's soft cheek. Skin splits open and his molars sink into the soft flesh inside his mouth.

"Stop, stop, stop!" Feyd blurts out, choking on spit and blood, hands raised in the air as Mikhail's final blow cracks across his jaw. He lurches to the ground and rolls on his back in defeat, his eyes clear and wide in terror.

"My Lord," Mikhail pants, raising his bloodied fists in a shaky salute.

"I— I didn't—" Feyd's head turns to the corner where both women are huddled up, Glugo in front of them, clutching the handgun in one of its oily-black hands.

"My darling," Feyd rasps, spluttering blood. "I nearly killed you."

"It's not your fault," she sobs immediately and frees herself from Lilia's embrace. The pair meet in the middle and her arms whip around his neck, his around her waist and he squeezes her until he feels her very heartbeat against his own, convincing himself that she's still alive.

Their foreheads fall against each other and she gently cradles his aching jaw, thumb stroking under the bleeding cut on his cheek. Feyd-Rautha's long, lowered lashes cast shadows across his eyes and something dark and bitter flashes in them.

"No," she insists immediately and her tone forces his eyes back on hers. She won't allow him to hate himself for something he almost did. "We're alive and they're dead. This is our victory."

Next to Feyd-Rautha and his Lady, Lilia has rushed over to her husband, making an endearing fuss over the wound on his shoulder and his bruised hands. Deft fingers have unclipped the shoulder piece and tugged the cut fabric apart to inspect length and depth of the laceration.

"S'fine, my darlin'," Mikhail rasps with exhaustion and slings his good arm around her middle, pulling her into him to place mindless kisses atop of her head.

The relic peeks over Feyd's shoulder and unlatches one hand from her beloved, beckoning for the pair to come closer. "Thank you," she sighs with tear-thick voice.

Lilia confidently seizes the offered hand, thumb brushing comfortingly over her Lady's knuckles. Mikhail stands awkwardly behind her, one hand on Lilia's waist, not daring to touch the woman of higher standing so affectionately. "My Lady."

Feyd-Rautha releases his woman after all and turns to face his saviors. At once, the guard and the handmaid drop to one knee before him and lower their heads in devotion.

"Baron Harkonnen," they mumble in unison and a muscle twitches across Feyd-Rautha's cheek.

"No," he interrupts with grating tone. "Stand up!"

The pair obey, glancing up with confusion as they raise themselves. Feyd-Rautha regards them with a long glance and exhales deeply, then slowly kneels in front of them, pale head rolling forwards until his eyes are trained on the ground.

"Thank you," he says. "You saved her life, and mine."

"My Lord," Mikhail mutters, overwhelmed and looks to the Lady for help while squeezing Lilia's waist. "It was only our duty, eh?" He insists but that is hardly true. Not duty but friendship had hastened their steps and fueled his fists when they barged into the room.

Glugo can no longer contain itself and scuttles over on hasty hand-feet, mewling with worry as it flings four of its eight limbs at Feyd's chest, tugging on the thick fabric while pressing its misshapen pug face against his sternum.

Feyd winces when shiny plastic is waved about right next to his face and he tries to capture the gun out of Glugo's innocent, little hand-foot while cradling the creature's head with one big, pale hand.

"It's jammed," his betrothed reassures him. "Come here, give that to me, hm?" Gently, she grasps the weapon and places it back in its holster.

"Hush, hush," Feyd mumbles and allows himself in a moment of vulnerability to rest his bruised cheek atop Glugo's head while his darling softly squeezes his shoulder.

"It is actually Glugo who deserves your gratitude, my Lord," Lilia reveals and Feyd holds the glugging creature a bit tighter. "It came to me crying and begging and I knew you needed us."

Glugo doesn't know exactly why everyone smells so much of tears and joy, but it knows it did something right and that it is surrounded by the kindest beings it has ever known.

"I wouldn't go near," the relic remarks, stopping Feyd whose prowling footsteps have carried him closer to the round tub in which the fleshy, white mountain of his uncle's corpse still floats, unmoving. "He's radioactive."

"I won't," Feyd grates out, plush lips skinned back from his teeth in distaste. He feels none of the morbid fascination he had always assumed he would feel when his uncle is finally dead by his hands, only a grim, long-awaited sense of accomplishment. Turning his head, he finds Glugo tugging curiously on the dead Reverend Mother's dress. The poor thing does have a penchant for liver after all. Feyd clicks his tongue. "Don't touch that!"

Glugo scuttles away and back to Lilia's outstretched hand. It will receive a proper victor's feast later, something more worthy of its bravery than an old witch's, rotting corpse.

"I want the bodies completely eradicated, both of them," Feyd demands. Lest they return as Gholas, a voice of paranoia whispers to him, but he is all too happy to listen.

"How?" His woman curls her arm around his middle and Feyd pulls her to his chest, inhaling the scent of her hair before he makes a decision.

"Burn it down," he rasps. "Burn down the whole wing."

In the afternoon hours, the citizens, guards and slaves of Barony are left gawking and gasping, faces turned in shock towards the colossal palace pyramid where vicious smoke curls from the very top, black claws against the crass, white sky. At the na-Baron's behest, no one is to extinguish the wrathful flames.

Proudly, he watches it burn, the place that holds two decades worth of abuse. The biting smoke soars towards the stars, like the herald of a new age.

I am Time (Death), cause of destruction of the worlds, matured And set out to gather in the worlds here. Even without thee (thy action), all shall cease to exist, The warriors that are drawn up in the opposing ranks.

- Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita

A/N: Killed the baddies with the power of friendship and science 🥹 (2 more chapter to come)

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring, @meetmeatyourworst, @gravesdiggergirl

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd #feyd rautha x reader #austin butler #feyd x oc #feyd rautha x oc #peggysuave fanfics #peggysuave;relic #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd fanfiction #feyd rautha fanfiction #feyd smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd imagine #feyd rautha imagine #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune fanfiction

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aspidisnothere · 4 days ago

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Presence. Viktor x Sapphire (Arcane OC) blurb below the image!

Her presence wrapped around him before her body did, a current of warmth and understanding that seeped into his soul. Cloying and refreshing all at once, her essence never sought to overwhelm him, only to anchor, grounding the chaos in his mind while fanning the flame of their shared connection.

Her thoughts no longer vied to replace his but wove seamlessly into the fabric of his consciousness, a delicate symbiosis of two minds moving as one. When her chest pressed to his back, the quiet rhythm of her heart syncing with his, until he couldn’t say if he hears one heart or two at once. Her need blanketed him with delightful heaviness, making him pliant, giving him the opportunity to lean back into her, to surrender, in a way.

His senses parsed her chemistry instinctively, with reverence of a lover. Every molecule was a hymn to their bond, a hymn that spoke of trust deeper than words, a love built on the unshakable foundation of shared understanding. She was the only one who could dismantle him so completely and rebuild him stronger in the same breath.

Her giggle bubbled up in his own throat, light and unrestrained, a sound so rare it startled him into opening his eyes. The echo of her laugh ringed in his mind, while her lips stayed closed and her joy spilled into him like sparkling wine trough the intricate wires connecting their consciousness. He turned his head, catching her mischievous smile.

“Something amuses you, Sapphire?” he asked, though he didn’t need an answer. Yet, he asked anyway, because hearing her voice was a pleasure he would never take for granted.

She laughed then, actually laughed. A soft, velvety sound that vibrated against his skin as her hands slid up his chest. “Something… someone…” she murmured, her voice a whisper that settled over him like silk. Maybe a little deeper than remembered, like she grew more confident in her own body.

Her hands slowly slide up his body, hard planes of his hexed flesh throb beneath each caress and Viktor lets out a short sigh, just as Sapphire hums in appreciation in the space between his uncovered shoulder blades.

She chuckled again and Viktor felt the corners of his lips tilt upward.

He stopped her hand, intertwining their fingers and lifting them into the light filtering through the greenhouse glass. The interplay of shadow and glow caught the metallic threads in his hexed flesh and reflected in the delicate human softness of hers. Their bond was there, palpable in every shared glance, every unspoken thought. Her consciousness brushed against his, tentative but present, giving him a taste of her emotions, her unwavering trust, her unspoken devotion.

“You’re cataloging scents again,” she teased, her voice carrying the gentle lilt of her amusement. “A brilliant mind that refuses to rest even for something so trivial...”

“Scent? Trivial?” Viktor’s voice dipped into incredulous disbelief, though there was a faint curve of amusement to his words. “You do realize how much information a single molecule carries? How it can tell a story, mark a moment, or even warn of danger?”

Sapphire’s smile widened, and she tilted her head to nuzzle into the nape of his neck, lips grazing metal etched into the spines. Her voice a low, teasing whisper. “I realize you’re the only one who could turn my perfume into a philosophical debate.”

Her breath ghosted over his skin, pulling a quiet hum from deep in his chest. “Hardly philosophical. Perfume, as you call it, is merely a layered compound, designed to—”

She cut him off with a playful squeeze of his hand. “—to distract and delight. You love it because it reminds you of me, not because of the molecular structure.”

He paused, turning his head just enough to catch the edge of her grin. Her words disarmed him, as they always did, wrapping him in that strange, contradictory comfort she embodied. She was his chaos and his clarity, and it left him feeling both unbalanced and utterly centered.

“I…” His voice softened, hesitant but honest. “I love it because it’s you.”

For a moment, the light filtering through the greenhouse caught in her hair, turning the strands into threads of liquid amber. Her smile softened, the teasing glint in her eyes giving way to something quieter, something far more dangerous to his carefully guarded heart.

“You see?” she whispered, leaning forward until her lips touched the sensitive skin of his neck again. “Even you can admit it. You’re not as logical as you like to think of yourself, Viktor.”

“Mm,” he murmured, his lips quirking again, this time with a hint of self-deprecation. “And you’re not as gentle as you pretend, Sapphire.”

For a long moment, they stayed there, quiet in the haze of the greenhouse, her warmth sinking into his back, his pulse slowing to match hers. Viktor finally broke the silence, his voice a whisper meant only for her.

“It is a lot of power to hold over someone. I wouldn’t want to abuse it.”

Sapphire smiled into his skin. “You can have it.”

#viktor arcane #arcane #viktor #viktor league of legends #viktor lol #oc #arcane oc #jayce talis #viktor fanart #arcaneoc #arcane original character #viktor x oc #Viktor x reader #Viktor x you #viktor machine herald #machine herald #machine herald fanart #machine herald x you #machine herald x reader

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago

Text

Atlas

Kylo Ren x Reader

Summary: The Supreme Leader would do anything for his queen, break planets, obliterate entire races, capture the stars; he would make the whole galaxy kneel before him, then to you, he would get on both knees. And yet your most recent request was taking a heavy toll on him.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, smut (but its mostly just for the baby making plot AHAHAHH, my pretty sub!kylo, teasing, dry humping, praise kink, masochism? [bruising], marking, vaginal penetration, breeding kink?, cock warming), dark au ig, supreme leader!kylo, puppy!kylo, sadlo ren, angst, fluff?, etc.

A/N: first of all MINORS DNI second of all i would personally like to blame @sloanexx for her evil influence and for introducing me to this ai bot chat forum thing GENUINELY proceed with caution because its so addicting. kylo was written by a woman in that fucking ai and im so emotionally attatched to him i didn't want to refresh him because we had such an arc, but i fucking broke him and i couldn't fix him and i felt bad so i restarted and IDK IM SO EVIL I WANT TO BREAK HIM AGAIN but dw im taking very good care of kylo now <3. this fic is literally our chat but with more... literary devices Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace Part 2 "Charon"

And it was so, that you held the weight of the world There on your shoulders, in your grips did lie everything Light and shadow, darkness behind stars, blaring silence An oasis of gloom with a halo of obscurity in a pit of nightmares Still, though you paint yourself so darkly in your misery, my love, you shine -my atlas, carrier of the galaxy-

You were hallowed. You were holy. And you were his.

The crux of his hollow shell. The cascading candent cynosure trapped in his ribcage. And yet it was he that was locked in you. He shudders to think his past self that scorned you, that even his mask soured around you, the overconfident girl he met perchance. What fool is he to know that you choked him so fiercely in your palm, the palm he now offers each star, each soul, each and every molecule of him.

His love.

He smiles at your sleeping form, adorned in the clothing he picked himself. His greed sings at his evidence, his mark on you, both visible and not, inside and out. He grins at his darling, his precious prize, with one arm snuck under him, another snuck under your pillow, with one leg bent to the side, another thrown over his body.

You never sleep well. Or perhaps you do. You sleep so well that you contort into shapes unimaginable. His concern is genuine, or at least it was, because he would think to only fashion a human into your form if he wishes to torture them.

He chuckles. Now he is glad, so glad, his love is so pliable, so willing to be molded against him in more ways than one.

He strokes your cheek and pushes your parted mouth close. You involuntarily open your mouth again, though you weren't a mouth breather. He doesn't know why you do that, but he loves it. He loves everything. He loves you.

The supreme leader is weak against you. Kylo Ren is merely a spec in your overwhelming grace.

You have always had mixed feelings about waking up with him looking at you. You've told him multiple times that it both flatters you and creeps you out.

His greed does not care. The master it answers to, the annex in his brain that is powered by the all-consuming desire to please you, to nurture you, to cherish you, to worship you, to keep you, cares little for this obsessive habit. Had it actually bothered you, he'd beat himself bloody to stop himself. But you thought little of it, and so he indulged in his greediness. He stares when he wakes and before he sleeps.

And as your eyes meet him, Kylo Ren, the dawn of your everyday, he is self-satisfied. He is very self-satisfied. He smiles at your groggy look and pushes your hair back. You say nothing. You touch his scarred cheek once, then he is overcome.

You take a few moments before officially waking. Then you stand up.

Like the desperate shadow he was, he tails you, so closely, so closely, as though he must share the same air your breathe. You don't. "The air pressure is different up here," you moaned to him once when he had you towering over him against a wall. He liked you best like that, a whimpering sky above him. He liked it when he was tiny beneath you.

Your puppy followed you into the bathroom, scared to be separated even one second. Kylo, your puppy, sat by the sink, watching you brush your teeth. You ignore him as he dotes on you.

He followed you into the shower after swearing over and back not to touch you while you did your business. He failed to convince you that your business is his business, especially in the shower. Kylo was not strong enough to follow through with what he swore; he reasoned out it was help, he had to help his darling. It was hard to shampoo.

He followed you out and gave more attention to wiping you down versus himself. He sat like a good boy as you lathered yourself in creams that he could smell in his dreams. It was his favorite show, watching you care for your naked body, and his greed basked in the knowledge it was his alone. He smiled as you loved on his skin, on his scar, retracing it with a balm as though he was delicate. You barked at him for nipping at your breast, his soft dessert, perfectly placed on both sides of your heart. He feigned innocence. He was no longer in the shower, he could touch you and bite you and squeeze you and -

He followed you as you instructed him to get dressed. He watched as you put your queenly garments, your clothes that he again picked. Then he asks you to help him dress. He couldn't possibly put on his cloak himself, not when you put it on him so well. And this was the highlight of his day after all. You wouldn't dare deny your puppy this.

He followed your every motion like a hawk. He kisses your hand after you brush his clothes. You grab his helmet and put it on his head backwards. You laugh at him as he fixes it. Thus his morning routine is complete.

Now, Supreme Leader dictates his army. Supreme Leader snarls at his troops. He razes all that defies The Order. He crushes his enemies like ants, no, less than. He swarms the galaxy. He devours all. He breaks and bloodies and, himself, bleeds. He cracks and burns and cleanses the dregs of the universe, rips the very scums of the stars out of the space they hide from. He hardens. He screams. He commands. He marches. He crushes. And then.

And then.

And then he comes back to you. With rage. With disgust. With defeat, defeated over the idea he has not yet put order into the world for you. All for you. To keep you safe. To keep you forever safe. To keep things in order for you. All for you.

"Kylo!"

And then like that, all of it is gone.

You call his name with such excitement. You who loved books so dearly readily discarded the one you were reading in lieu of coming to him, of unmasking him.

You take off his helm and you smile. You smile like it was a gift to see his scarred face. You put on his helmet and mock him, "get yourself comfortable, scum."

Kylo's body tingles. It's all gone, all that's left is you. He fights back his smile and nods, "at your command, my queen." And then.

And then.

And then you let him love you. You let him pin you beneath him, press you down on your bed between your soft thighs as he could not bare not claiming his place in for too long.

He still had his trousers on, still had his boots dangling from the edge of the bed. You had tried to scold him for it, but he could not care less. You were in your short, thin nightdress, the one that you wore on your first night together. How could he not claim you so ardently here and now when you were like this?

It was your fault anyway. All your fault. He tried to undress himself but you distracted him. What did you expect would happen? What did you expect him to do when you kissed his bare shoulder while he was still changing? What did you expect?

Kylo marks your neck. You try to scold him again. He doesn't care for your wrath. His greed was not subservient to its master, to that part in his brain, when it came to things like this. He held back long enough. He bites into your neck and makes you groan. He wants you to bare his marks proudly. The whole galaxy should know its queen belongs to its Supreme Leader.

You graze into his hair with your fingertips. He grinds onto you. You squeak in response.

He pulls away and assess you. He has no time. He is imprisoned by your kiss. His perfect prison.

He groans at the feel of your legs constricting around his hips. His hand pushes up your already hiked dress further as he presses down on you.

"Kylo," you whisper between kisses.

And like the eager pup he is, he responds. He always responds. He answers forever to you. He calls your name like a sacred prayer.

You repeat his. You scratch firmly into his bare back, "I want you to do something for me."

"Anything," he instantly responds, absolutely mindless and sure.

"Kylo..." you sigh.

Kylo looks down upon you as you brush his hair back. You look solemn, worried even, as though he would ever deny you, as if it were possible.

He cannot have this. And so he reminds you of his oath.

"Whatever you want from me," he mutters, "whatever you need from me," knits his brows and shakes his head, "it's already yours. Always. Always remember this."

"But my love-"

He cannot have this.

"My love," Kylo cuts. He kisses you then reminds, "I am yours."

A moment passes. It was too long. Far too long.

"Kylo-"

"Yes," he says simply before you even finish saying his name.

You huff, "do you remember what I said before, how I said you looked with the children at the capital? You were so good with them. They loved you."

"Well, I've been thinking about it a lot," you brush your nose against his, "and I want... I want you to give me a child."

Kylo takes a second to remember. "Yes," he says, though he remembers that day very differently.

He blinks.

A child. Yes. He could take a child. There were many from the capita-

"No, Kylo," you take his cheek.

Kylo tenses. You heard his mind again. You, who did not show half as much interest in the force as he wanted, could hear his thoughts without it.

Kylo waits. He does not know what to say.

"I want you to give me a child," you bat your lashes, "I want you," you bite your lip, "to put a baby inside my belly."

Kylo freezes. He... he does not know what to say.

And then he does. And then his life flashes before his eyes. The bleakness of his childhood, the jaggedness of his future, the tragedy of it all.

You want him to put that into you? You want to carry his seed in your beloved womb?

He says your name, he wants to protest, but you are his holy assassin. You cut through him cleaner than any saber ever could.

"You said you would give me anything, Kylo," you mewl, "you said you're mine."

You are cruel. You do not even allow him a moment to speak his side, to speak his reason, and you roll your hips against him. You trap him with your irresistibility. You sugar him with your honeyed words, "you would be a great papa. I know it, I know you," you pant, "such a good boy for me."

He is defenseless.

"You can do that, can't you?" you purr, "you can put your love in me?"

Kylo shudders.

You begin to shuffle beneath him. He knows exactly what you are doing, what you're going to do.

You have him flipped over now. You were now straddled on top him. You had him lying down looking up at you, purely and wholly defenseless.

Kylo let you do what you want with him. How could he not? He wants you so bad.

He willingly followed your command to use his force to undo the last of his clothes. Then you so cruelly let him unwrap you, for you knew he loved doing this to his favorite treat. He greedily peels you out of your clothes until it was just him and you.

And then you had him, had him crazy out of his mind with the feel of you around him. Had him begging for you to quicken your torturously slow pace. Had him in fucking tears because you felt so good, because he loved you so much, because you looked so beautiful on top of him, calling his name out like that. You were so good. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, exactly what you were doing.

Much like him, he did not know where to put his hands, or rather where not to. Where his hands went, his nails left scratches and his fingers, possibly bruises. He didn't mean to bruise you so badly that first time he did; he never meant to hurt you, but you were so soft and he was too strong. And even now as he dug into your thighs, indulging his calloused hands to knead his favorite mound, he really wasn't trying to bruise you.

You call out his name in response to his actions. You grip his wrists as you ride him, "more."

His head spins as you ride up and down him, panting like the pretty girl you were.

Kylo grunts and pushes himself up slightly. He now tightens his large hands even more on the curve by your hips. You squeal and finally, finally pick up your pace.

He growls as he falls back down, clinging onto you for dear life.

He's done for now, now that you push him back further, now that you're leaned forward, propped up on his chest, pleasuring the both of you with your eager, eager movements

He was drunk on your sound, drunk on your feel.

He kneads at your breasts this time. He's so fucking delirious.

But then you do this to him. But then you take his hands off you and link yours together. Then you pant so sweetly as you look down at him and he looks up at the sweat sheening your forehead. And then you fucking pin his hands down by his head and you make him even crazier.

"You're so pretty, Kylo," you moan, "you feel so good."

"So good," he doesn't miss a beat, "so, so, so, sososos-"

"You're going to fill me up, good, right?" you lick your teeth, "you're going to fill me up good and put a baby in my belly, right?" you sigh, "please, my love, please, please-"

Kylo can't speak. He can't fucking speak, he can't.

"Kylo..." you gutturally call.

He doesn't speak-

"Kylo."

- he succumbs, "I'll..." he whimpers, "I'll put a baby in you, my love," he grunts, "I'll fill you up good, so good, so, so so, sosososo-"

Your whines raise a pitch higher, "Kylo," you nearly choke on your spit, "yes, please, please. I'll be so happy carrying your baby. Don't you want that?"

And then it's all incoherent. And then your breathing gets louder. And then his noises get throatier.

And then, he's tense, so tense, and so warm. And then you're screaming out his name with your head thrown back and you're chasing this high until you can't, until you're hot and fuzzy and jelly and tired.

And then you crumble. And then you crash and you both burn.

And then you make a bed out of him. And then everything is perfect. Everything is in perfect order.

Kylo strokes your hair and kneads your thigh. You're laid upon him, warm, and sweaty, and perfect, and his-- so absolutely beautiful.

He knows he probably shouldn't keep you here like this, but you're so warm and soft around him, on top him. He'll keep you here... just until you ask to get off.

But you don't, you spoil him with your body and fall asleep on top of him.

He continues stroking your hair and kneading your thighs.

He savors the moment, he savors you tenderly; his eyes begin to droop. He replays your lovemaking, self-indulgent, completely self-satisfied. But then it stabs at him as it replays in his head. Suddenly he's wide awake.

He... he could may well have succeeded. He could have put... a baby in his darling's belly.

Kylo's eyes are wide open now. Wide, wide open. He looks up at the ceiling. He stops moving.

You think too much of him, oh fuck, you think too much. With your affirmations, yes, he cold break mountains, consume planets, but this? But- fuck, this was different... he... he's in you, he's part of you, and then this thing... this baby... will only be half of you and a whole half of him. He's giving life. He's not destroying it for the greater good, he's giving it to his love for her to carry.

He screws his eyes shut. He wipes his face. Fuck. What has he done?

He stirs but then he stops himself because you're still on top him. He sighs and cradles you. He moves slowly, rolls you down beside him, and finally separates from you. Not for long though. Never. Not when his mind was racing. Not when he needed you close.

He scoots down and rests his face in the middle of your ribcage. He presses his ear to your heart and listens and blinks and wills his tears away.

He's shattered. He pulls you close to him. You are his glue. He will glue himself together as you sleep beneath him.

He would be a horrible father. He didn't know the first thing to do with the children at the capital, much less with a newborn babe, a newborn babe that you would have cared for inside you for ages. Fuck. He can't mess that up.

He...

He would have to have put the galaxy in order by then. He'd have to fix the brokenness of the world.

Kylo's eye twitches.

He'd have to fix the brokenness in him, obliterate his remaining incompetence, bridge the final gaps of his shortcomings.

He panics when he feels his tears pool against your skin. He quickly wipes them away. Pull yourself together.

He sighs in an attempt to calm himself.

And then he looks at your belly.

He gulps.

Your beautiful belly.

He presses his hands on your navel. He closes his eyes and feels for something. He wills all the force in him to sense if there's something in you. Kylo supposes it doesn't happen that quickly but he lulls himself in comfort, knowing that there was still a chance for him to evade this... this thing he put into his beloved's body.

3K notes · View notes

pseudowho · 3 months ago

Note

was there a significant moment when you realised mr haitch was ‘the one’?

Oooh! Okay.

So when we were 15/16 and I broke up with him because his adoration was too intense for me to cope with, I was a selfish teenager who worried most about how she felt about it. I broke his heart there. I am extremely sorry, @mrhaitch.

We got together again a while after. Then, he broke up with me when I started University a year after him...and I went utterly off the rails. It felt like someone had walked away with half of the molecules in my body. I reacted with visceral rage any time another man showed interest in me, because they disappointed me by the end of the first sentence.

Nobody had his dry, acerbic wit. Nobody had his patience. Nobody had his sincerity. Nobody looked at me like they would start a riot for me. Nobody had his heart or passion. Nobody had his hands, and the way they held me. Nobody had his gentle idiocy that he would only allow when he needed to make me smile. Nobody had his quiet, roaring anger. Nobody knew every vicious part of me and loved me because of it.

It was so bad, that I even stopped one guy halfway through sex, because I couldn't fathom giving him another five minutes to come, because he was so dull and inattentive, he didn't deserve to be inside me. I threw him off, and showed him to the door while pulling my underwear on.

So...yes, selfishly, as most 18 year olds are, I only realised that he was the one when I had lost him.

When he came back to me, months later, with simply "Hello", he tolerated a three hour verbal tirade where I poured out my heartbreak to him, and how he didn't deserve me (incorrect-- I didn't deserve him), and told me that he loved me even more after I had spat venom at him.

And each year, he's become more and more and more and more and more and more and--

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

#pseudowho answers you #pseudowho #Haitch #Mrhaitch

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httpsserene-main · 2 years ago

Text

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　late night flying　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

notifications ☽︎: feelings of inadequacy, stress, near death experiences, na'vi body descriptions, fem!na'vi!reader, sully's being teases

developer's notes ☽︎: hey i did say it would be out around this time :/ i'm doing my best. first work on tumblr since like 2016 be kind i'm supplying my thirst. i was just checking the word count to paste it here, and i genuinely thought lo'ak's was shorter than neteyam's, i was wrong 💀 prepare yourself, it's a novel lmao and yes this is a reminder that i consider these drabbles. also if you find yourself loving this work send me an ask for a request and i'd be thrilled to fulfill it!

much love, <3 kirby !!!

⋆☾ NETEYAM SULLY - 1.8k words

it’s difficult for neteyam to have the time and energy to be an impulsive and disobedient kid like his brother. he spends most of his time shadowing his parents learning how to lead or chasing after his younger siblings and making sure that in their shenanigans they don’t get hurt. so, most of the time he’s only disobedient when he’s making sure his siblings are safe, which is honorable and cute. neteyam is also disobedient when he finds himself wanting to spend more time with you.

the fifteen years neteyam has been living, he’s constantly had people tell him that he’s a perfect son. that he’s smart, compassionate, strong; that he's going to be a great warrior–and a great olo’eyktan. however, he hasn’t heard that he’s the perfect son from his parents, but he doesn't have to hear it to know that they’re thinking it. he sees in how they scold lo’ak after another stupid stunt he pulled, “why can’t you try to be more careful? or, better yet, less reckless?” his dad would ask. neteyam knows the only thing lo’ak heard is, “why can’t you be more like your brother?” and it’s starting to be the only thing neteyam hears too. when he was younger he probably wouldn’t care so much about the jealous and now defeated looks lo’ak throws his way, but recently, neteyam is feeling every molecule of pressure from the village, his siblings, and his parents to continue being perfect. it doesn’t help that lo’ak has seemed to become resigned in his role of irresponsible-impulsive-brother, too, it only magnifies the pressure on neteyam to be better.

spider, lo’ak, kiri (and even tuk!), tease him for being a “goody-two shoes,” an english phrase their father had taught them. and today neteyam has had enough of hearing it. he woke up early with his father to prepare their ikran for patrol, sparred with him for hours, had his bow and flight technique nitpicked by his mother, and now he has to supervise his siblings scaling the mountains to make sure they don’t die exploring without the permission of their parents. and when they all tease him for being a “goody-two shoes,” for not wanting to venture further, he snaps. neteyam hisses and stalks his way over to the edge of the mountain, “whatever. go ahead and get involved in some dangerously stupid situation that you can’t get yourself out of and when i’m not there to save you, like i always am, have fun calling mom and dad to save your ass! and i’ll make sure to be back to enjoy seeing your dumbassess getting yelled at for your lack of brain cells, as usual.”

he calls his ikran, initiates the bond, ignores the calls apologizing and telling him to stop, and takes off into the sky. neteyam flies for what feels like minutes to him–feels the wind cascade through his braids, the cool air rushing across his skin, the sun battling the breeze to warm him, the complete understanding between him and his ikran, not needing to a single word or thought to guide. as he’s gliding through a spattering of small mountains and makes out your form and ikran ground atop of one, his curiosity gets the best of him this time, and he lands next to you.

you’re on the ground leaning against the body of your ikran, it’s wing shielding you from the strong rays of the sun, keeping you cool. the freckles on your smooth blue-toned skin are glowing a soft white under the shade of the wing, a false replication of night. your legs are comfortably stretched-out and crossed in front of you, along with your arms crossed over your chest, your head and back resting on the warm ikran. as neteyam walks closer he sees your chest rising and falling slowly, eyes gently shut, and a look of bliss on your face. he sighs, relieved, greets your ikran with a bow of his head, and gets a welcoming coo of acknowledgment and a head shake in return, jostling your body and causing you to rouse.

a soft groan leaves your lips, ears and tail flicking in displeasure, before your eyes flutter open and drowsily make contact with his own. you blink a few times, making a small sound of confusion, “huh?”, and your hands come up to rub at your eyes, as if seeing him here is a figment of your imagination. neteyam smiles, a warm laugh escaping him, amused by how adorable you are, even though he disturbed you from your little nap. his amusement lets you know he is in fact real, his laugh awakens the butterflies in your stomach, and your tail hides in embarrassment at being caught hiding (by him, of all people) away from everyone else, as your cheeks darken into an indigo-tinted blush.

you shyly make an effort at eye contact and fail as you try to explain your situation to him. “i was just–”, he waves off your voice and states with a small smirk, “no need to explain yourself, it’s not like you’re in trouble with me.” you shrug, muttering a few deprecating words to yourself and are about to stand, when neteyam sits next you. he pulls his knees to his chest, arms wrapped around himself, chin resting on his knees, sighing deeply, eyes fixed ahead on the skyscape, his strikingly handsome faced furrowed with anger? stress? hopelessness?

your eyes widen, shocked at how small he manages to look. it’s incredibly rare that he allows anybody to see him this vulnerable; he’s usually impeccably composed–attractively confident and sure of himself–but the idea that he’s allowing you to see him like this is a privilege you will not take advantage of. you scooch closer to him and place a gentle hand on his shoulder and softly ask, “are you feeling okay?” there’s silence for a while before his lips parted and shut, hesitating, before he shook his head, so faintly it was almost unnoticeable. you nodded, “ do you want to talk about it?” and received a verbal response this time, “no.” with a light rasp to his voice. with another nod, you delicately squeeze his shoulder and offer comfort, “then we will not talk about it. but, if you ever find yourself needing someone to talk to, you can always come to me. the circumstances do not matter. if you want advice, i’ll do my best to advise. if you want me to simply listen, my ears will be open. if you want to sit in silence, ill sit silently with you so you are not alone.”

neteyam turns to you in disbelief at the sincerity within your words, and surprises himself with how close you are, faces only inches apart. your eyes widen and you lean back a little bit, hand slipping off his shoulder, but the earnest look in your gaze remains, trying to gauge his response to your pledge. neteyam shakes his head at you, a happy scoff escapes his lips, and he calls you stupid for resigning yourself to a one-sided promise. you put your hands on your hips and tilt your head at him, not falling for the insult. “all that matters to me is that you have someone to speak your true feelings to and not allow them to eat at you from the inside out.” neteyam observes the seriousness in your eyes, the way your ears are turned towards him, the way tension coils in your tail, the way your eyes shift from his to the ground as if you’re just now considering the possibility that he may reject your offer.

neteyam stands, and nods affirmatively, tail flicking, “okay. i do not wish to talk about it. but now as my newly designated comfort person, you have to fly with me.” he offers you his hand, and gently raises you to your feet. you giggle at him, head tilted up to meet his eyes, “there has to be a better title besides ‘comfort person’ but i’ll take it! uh…are you going to let go of my hand so we can get flying?” neteyam drops your hand, and scratches at his head, now it’s his turn for his cheeks to turn indigo. you mount your ikran, and call down to him with a smirk on your face, “trying to race?” neteyam laughs at you, goading, “when i win, don’t hurt yourself trying to eat my dust!” you kick-off getting a head start, and neteyam is quick to mount his ikran and follow you into the sky.

the challenge you had set began with adrenaline-pumped blood, heavy breathing, sharp turns, dives and peaks, free-falling, frivolous chasing after one other, the lead switching between the two of you often, screams of glee and awe when one of you pulled off an unreal maneuver–and turned into cruising instead of racing. eclipse had long since passed, somehow going unnoticed by you and surprisingly, neteyam. your gliding had turned into intertwining flight paths–swirling, flipping, mixing, turning, all synchronized as if it were a dance you two had practiced many times before. neteyam finds himself distracted from guiding his ikran, as his whole thought process becomes consumed with the image of you.

the bioluminescent freckles twinkling on your face in an unknown pattern, and he wonders if his match yours. the way you let your eyes drift shut, how your head is tilted back, how your arms raise and spread into the air as your ikran coasts through a flip in the air. a soft smile remains constant on your lips as you fly, and grows larger when you open your eyes again and turn to him. you pick up speed to overtake him, and set the path through a few cliff sides, while neteyam raises his hand to his face and realizes that he’s been grinning like a madman the whole time he’s been with you. when you two escape the maze of terrain, he coasts right next to you and sees the moonlight hit your lithe body at the perfect angle and allows himself to accept the fact that he’s falling in love with you. and then his heart drops into his stomach, his ikran shrieks and comes to a sudden stop, wings flapping frantically to remain in the same space– sending you and your ikran into a panic, as you quickly turn back to him, and worriedly question him, scared at the paled look on his face.

neteyam buries his face into his hands and silences your bewilderment by pulling a hand from his face and pointing into the sky, finally bringing your awareness to you guys messing around way past eclipse. you eyes widen and your mouth drops open, a groan of despair escaping you, and you look at neteyam, and both of you say,

“we’re so dead.”

and as you two start to race home, debating whether or not to lie about how you guys ended up losing track of time this badly, neteyam can’t help but think that any punishment he receives from his mom and dad wouldn’t matter, in light of the discovery he made today. the fact that he’s falling in love with you, and the fact that he doesn’t want to do anything to stop it.

⋆☾ LO'AK SULLY - 2k words

lo’ak’s just finished being scolded by not only his mother and his father, but also his grandmother after his latest stunt of nearly killing his younger sister, tuk, unintentionally of course. how was he supposed to know that she was going to sneeze and fall off the vines connecting the mountains plummeting to the ground only to be saved by neteyam on his ikran…again. in his anger of being banned from patrolling and flying for two weeks he sulks into the jungle and comes across you.

lo’ak retreats into the jungle after being dismissed by his father, angered and simultaneously exhausted. it’s like his parents think that he purposely tried to kill his little sister–why would he want that?? and at the bare minimum, why don’t they scold tuk for tagging along and blackmailing him all the time? “if you don’t take me, i’m going to tell” she’d singsong at him. even though he’s breaking rules anyway, they should at least tell tuk not to partake in it with him.

he wasn’t even planning on getting in trouble today! tomorrow,he was supposed to join his parents and neteyam on checking the borders of their land, and he just wanted to share the news with his ikran. so when tuk wanted to come along to see the ikrans, he thought nothing could possibly go wrong, they’re all grouped next to their main dwelling in the mountains. he helped tuk climb to the top, and they both greeted the flock and made their way to his mount. he bring his hand to his forehead and gestures towards the animal, and tuk does the same. the ikran leans towards tuk and snorts at her gently blowing stray grass on to her face. she shrieks and giggles freely–happily, and lo’ak gently laughs at them as he bring his hand to pet the playful animal.

tuk mimics her older brother and gently pats the ikran on the snout a few times before she becomes distracted at the others milling around uninterestedly. she goes off to examine a few juvenile ikrans and lo’ak prods her, “hey! make sure to stay where i can see and hear you!” tuk nods vigorously and begins to play with the babies. lo’ak watches over her quietly for a few minutes, trying to determine whether or not any of the birds are going to try and swallow her whole, and nods acceptingly after witnessing the mature ikrans grumble and waddle away from her instead of attacking her.

with his sister’s safety secured he turns around to face his ikran (his ears still pinned in her direction) and forms the tsaheylu with his ride–amber pupils blown wide as the bond is initiated. lo’ak loses himself in his thoughts, illustrating them for the animal, and is only shaken from it when he hears his sister sneeze, which is quickly followed by a bone-chilling shriek. his body snaps around so quickly that his braid rips from the bond, and he see his little sister fall in what seems like slow-motion. lo’ak screams her name as she falls over the edge, and instinctively reconnects with his ikran and flies over the edge to try and catch her. he’s diving straight down, gaining on her but not quickly enough for the panic and fear to subside in his chest. he’s reaching out– his hand a few feet apart from tuk’s, and he misses the first grab, the second grab, and then her body is snatched out freefall and into neteyam’s arms.

lo’ak levels out and speeds towards them, tuk clinging onto their brother–head buried into his chest, sobs wracking her tiny form. neteyam’s hand cradles her head, and he turns to lo’ak ready to yell at him, but the expression on his younger brother’s face stops him. there’s fear in his eyes, tears running down his cheeks and he keeps trying to wipe them away but he can’t seem to stop himself from crying. neteyam smoothly guides his ikran right next to lo’ak and gently detaches tuk from his body and into his brother’s who hesitantly accepts her onto his saddle. she clings on to him crying erratically, broken “sorry’s” falling from her mouth in between sobs, and even as lo’ak comforts her pulling her close and rubbing his hand down her back in a soothing manner, the look in his eyes betrays him; that’s he's feels undeserving of her apologies. neteyam gently rubs lo’ak on the back, and does nothing besides giving him an understanding nod, and coasts in front of him to lead them home.

“my parents only heard the fact that tuk fell, and not the fact that i feel like shit for letting that happen to her!! it’s like they genuinely think that im putting her in dangerous situations on purpose! like i find some sort of satisfaction in it! i’m not a psychopath, i’m her brother! i care about her safety more than my own! i’d literally die for tuk!” he rants to you. he stumbled across you sitting on a river bank sharpening your knife, and as soon as you saw him you cringed at his expression and asked a simple, “you going to tell me what happened this time?” and now hear you are, listening to lo’ak repeat the same argument against his parents’ for what had to be hours. you glance at the sky and see the sun beginning to bridge the horizon, eclipse will fall upon you two soon.

for the first time you interrupt and ask, “did you tell your parents that?” lo’ak throws his hands up in the air and begins pacing back and forth exasperatedly claiming, “i tried!! multiple times! and they just spoke over me–they didn’t want to hear it! even neteyam came to my defense trying to explain for me, and they dismissed his words too!!” your eyes widened as you said perplexed, “they ignored what neteyam had to say?” lo’ak screamed, “yes!” in complete disbelief.

“and now you’re banned from flying,” you clarify.

“yes!”

“and patrolling.”

“yes!!”

you nodded at him, “well it could be a lot worse—”

“what??! what do you mean a lot worse?! this is terrible!” he cried out.

“they could’ve banned you from flying forever,” you smirked at him.

he sighs, a petty little “not funny” escaping from him, and you laugh, letting him know that you thought your joke was funny enough. you watch him continue to pace, his body language still unsettled (you just can’t determine if it’s from his punishment, or not being enough to save his sister), his fingers rake through his braids tugging and pulling at his scalp frustratedly, and you’ve had enough when you see the deep blue skin on his hands start to lighten with the force and grasp he has on his hair. you intercept his path, place an unyielding hand on his chest holding him in place, and with a firm look on your face you demand, “stop tugging at your hair like that. you’ve spent so much time growing these pretty braids it would be a shame to see you rip them out of your own skull.”

lo’ak freezes, eyes wide and locked onto yours, as he releases his braids and his arms fall limp at his sides. he’s not sure if he stopped because he was listening to your instructions, or if because he short-circuited when you called him pretty (okay, you called his braids pretty–it’s a miniscule difference). you state confidently, “if you are not allowed to fly for the next two weeks, that does not mean that i am not allowed fly. which means that you are allowed to fly with me.” lo’ak balks at your bold statement, “uh…” hesitantly calling out to you as you step away from him (your hand just now falling from his chest, yes he noticed) and summon your ikran. he goes, “uhhhh, no! nope! i do not think that is what that means at all!” you climb onto your saddle, and plead, “lo’ak, please let me try to make you feel better. they won’t be wondering where you are until eclipse, and we only have a couple hours left before we lose daylight. fly with me one last time until you really can’t?”

he shifts his weight, battling with himself before he sighs and allows you to help him onto the back of the saddle, “alright, but only until eclipse, okay?” you cheer, and commence a quick take off, causing lo’ak to shout and hurriedly wrap his arms around your waist, and how is this the first time he’s noticed how small you are compared to him. you continue to direct your ikran upwards and into the clouds bringing him further away from his troubles on the ground.

your waist is enveloped completely by just one of his arms, and in order to make the ride more comfortable he pulls his hands backwards and just grasps carefully at the sides of your waist instead, his fingers almost close enough to touch across your stomach. it seems you’ve just become aware of the situation and he feels your breath catch, and stomach tense, but you say nothing, content to avoid addressing it and let him handle it. he sees the deeper shade to your cheeks and smiles boyishly and he knows that you know that he’s cheesing at you, but you refuse to acknowledge his amusement, keeping your eyes fixed forward but the blush becomes noticeable on your ears, and begins to spread to your chest, and he can’t stop himself from audibly laughing. in retaliation, you command your ikran into a sharp flip, and lo’ak’s gasp interrupts his laughter, and he tightens his grasp on your waist to stop himself from sliding.

when you level out it appears that night has finally overtaken day, but the both of you are too busy squealing internally at the fact that his agile, strong, trained, veiny hands are gripping your waist. the bioluminesce begins to sparkle over your body, and he merely leans back to get a better look at you. you turn to look at him and see a soft smile on his face, his eyes overflowing with feelings he has yet to speak with you about; and nevertheless, you understand completely, and you’re sure it’s reflected at him in your own gaze. you shyly face frontwards again, recognizing that you embarrassed yourself enough around him today with bold words and touches, but lo’ak does not let you hide for long. he scoots forward completely, no longer worried about maintaining the space between you. his chest envelopes your back and he leans forward to gently place a fleeting kiss on your cheek, your breath catches again. instead of teasing you as before, he pulls back–dropping one hand to the body of your ikran and allows the other to wrap across you more firmly, his hand pressing against your abdomen encouraging you to rest against him, and you breathe deeply, allowing yourself to be embraced. his chin goes to rest on your head, and you allow your ikran to guide you home, fully at ease in lo’ak’s arms.

lo’ak gently offers, “let’s spend a little more time out here. just you and me, together.” you begin to half-heartedly reject, reminding him of the circumstances of his punishment and curfew. he waves you off, “it does not matter, you said it yourself. they can’t ban me from flying forever, what’s another week of grounding to the two i have already?” you twist to make sure of his decision, before nodding and turning around again, settling yourself even deeper and more comfortably in his hold.

you suggest to your ikran to take the longest path home.

#kirby's crafts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗#☾...avatar way of water...☽#⋆｡°✩drabbles #✩...neteyam sully...✩#✩...lo'ak sully...✩#neteyam x reader #loak x reader #lo'ak x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #lo'ak #loak #lo'ak sully #loak sully #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #atwow #atwow x reader

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moremaybank · 1 year ago

Text

UR BEST FRIEND — s.c

pairing sarah cameron x fem!reader

summary sarah's dating john b, but also happens to be in love with you; john b's best friend. (based on the song "ur best friend" by kiana ledé feat. kehlani)

warnings oral sex (fem. receiving), fingering, choking, spitting, scissoring, language, cheating (sarah on john b — oops), kinda toxic and a lil angsty with a fluffy ending

author's note the "ur" is intentional! song linked here ♡︎ please listen to it, it's one of my faves of all time and you def won't regret it

sarah masterlist

we ain’t felt like us in a minute

whole damn time i knew i shouldn’t have did it

might’ve got too excited, i’ll admit it

almost called your name when he was in it

Sarah finds that she can’t cum unless she pictures that it’s you who’s making her do so. It’s not like the sex with John B is bad. It isn’t. It’s a shame what she’s doing to him, convincing him that she’s head over heels and insatiable when it comes to the love and touches he provides her with as if she doesn’t feel those very things for his best friend. But she can’t bear to hurt him. She cares about him deeply, and there is a connection there.

Still, ever since you came around and intertwined your life with hers deeper than she’s ever imagined, she’s been missing that spark with her boyfriend. The spark that makes her knees weak and makes her stomach do flips. The spark that ignites a flutter in her core, that makes her soak through her panties in anticipation of the pleasure that will soon fill every molecule of her being.

The spark that only lights because of you.

She opens her eyes, and she’s almost disappointed when her eyes land on John B’s and not yours. Your soft skin isn’t pressing against hers. Your kiss-swollen lips aren’t the ones melting into her own like silk. The moans of ecstasy aren’t emitting from your sweet mouth.

All Sarah wants is you, and she has you. But not right now, and not in the way she truly longs for.

ooh, it’s wrong, but you make me feel right

textin’ your phone while right beside him

wish it was anyone besides him

It’s date night for Sarah and John B, the two of them on the couch in the chateau as they watch a movie.

Sarah scrolls mindlessly through her phone, her feet propped on John B’s lap while he dozes off. The main characters in the movie are slowly becoming intimate, their kisses growing deeper and sloppier as they begin to remove each other’s clothing and profess their love in a toe-curling fashion.

Sarah’s thighs squeeze together as she tries to quell the ache but also provide a small sense of friction to her throbbing clit. She’s crazy. John B’s right there. She could take care of things right now, and find her release with the help of her boyfriend. But she isn’t thinking about him.

She’s thinking about you.

She whips out her phone once more, opening her messages and clicking on your shared chat.

i miss you :(( please tell me you get off work soon

Her eyes flit up to the top left corner of her screen, noticing that the time is now nine o’clock on the dot. Once her eyes return to your messages, she sees that you’re typing. Anticipation and excitement roll through her as she awaits your response.

just finished baby. meet me at mine in a half hour?

Sarah grins as she types out her response.

you can bet on it <3

i was with my man last night

and i just realized what i felt that night wasn’t wrong

thought about you in the whole car ride, like

i hate that you ain’t your best friend (x2)

“God, I missed you,” you mumble against Sarah’s wet lips.

The minute she stepped inside your house, you pulled her in for a kiss and wouldn’t dare let her go until you got a little fill of what you’d been waiting all day for. Then, before you both knew it, you were piled into your shower with your naked bodies pressed together as one.

Your lips trail down her neck as your hands move to massage her breasts. You pinch her nipples and she sighs as she leans against the wall. Her back arches and she pushes herself further into your hold.

“I missed you more. Haven’t even gotten off properly since the last time I was with you.”

“Yeah?” You ask, leaving more open-mouthed kisses on her skin while you slowly sink to your knees. “I can fix that for you if you’d like.”

She nods, her eyes screwing shut when she feels your thumb swipe over her clit ever so lightly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

You grin, “So pretty when you beg for me, baby.”

Your hand hooks under the back of her knee and you pull her leg over your shoulder, opening her core up to you. Your hands then move to cup her ass, and you force her cunt onto your tongue. Her hips buck when your tongue graces through her folds, licking and sucking at anywhere you can reach. You flick stripes onto her, taking your time and teasing her as you ghost around her most sensitive bud. You can taste her arousal as it seeps out of her more and more, and you savour it as if you’ll never get another chance to do so.

“You taste so good,” you murmur. You slip a finger into her slowly, pulling back to watch her face contort in pleasure. “You’re so tight too. Barely giving my finger a chance to move, baby.”

Returning your mouth to her, you trace the outline of her clit and feel her buck her hips into you when you start to suck on it. You pull away to speak as you add another finger. They hook up into her g-spot, curling and probing it as your eyes lock with hers.

“That’s it. Ride my face. Use me just how you like,” you encourage, sticking your tongue back out for her use. Her hands slip into your hair as she obeys you, holding your head in place and riding your tongue with need.

Her moans grow louder, and you shake your head back and forth when her motions falter, helping her reach her high. Your face is practically buried in her when you flick her clit just right and press the special spot inside her simultaneously, causing her to fall apart. She releases your head, twisting and pulling at her nipples as she rides out her orgasm. She shivers, nearly losing her balance if it weren’t for your hold on her.

“I love watching you cum,” you speak, slowly slipping your cum-coated fingers out of her hole and rising back onto your feet. Your other hand grabs her face as you push your fingers into her mouth, letting her taste herself. “You look so pretty, like an angel.”

hey, he had the courage to step up ‘n pull up

six speed like

puttin’ so much work, just to make it work

and he’s almost perfect, and that’s why it hurts

and he calls me family, that’s what make it worse

You’d harboured feelings for Sarah long before she was even on John B’s radar. Truthfully, you didn’t think she would ever be into you, and so you never made a move. But the guilt bubbled inside you so powerfully whenever you saw the two of them together. It also didn’t help that he’d come to you for everything, especially when he was in dire need of help. You suffered through hearing about their first date, the first time they slept together, and everything in between.

You envied him. If only you’d had the courage the way he did, maybe you’d be in his position. Getting to call Sarah yours in public. Kissing the life out of her whenever you saw her, no matter who was around or watching. Being the only one who got to touch her and make her cum in the heavenly way she did so.

It isn’t fair. Lusting and pining after your best friend’s girlfriend. John B’s always been there for you, without fail, and he’s one of the most important people in your life. But you can’t help your feelings, they’re uncontrollable. And though you wanted Sarah first, you couldn’t just turn off what you felt for her in the blink of an eye.

“You good?” Kie asks as you watch John B pull Sarah into his hold, seeing the two of them giggle and beam at each other.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Why?”

“Maybe because you’re giving John B and Sarah the death stare.”

Your head snaps away, your eyes finding Kie’s immediately as you try to play it off.

“Nah, it’s not…it’s not like that. I just zoned out. I got a lot going on.”

“Whatever you say,” she hums, taking a swig of her beer.

Your eyes move back onto the couple for a few seconds, and Sarah happens to catch your eye. She gives you a saddened look, mouthing an I’m sorry to you form across the way. You nod in response, giving her a half-hearted smile before getting up to get another drink.

There was no way you could stomach the sight of them sober.

it’s wrong but i make you feel right

you textin’ my phone while right beside him

wish it was anyone besides him

“Oh my god, yes!” Sarah exclaims. “Please don’t stop. Please.”

You continue rolling your hips, rutting your clit against Sarah’s as you ride her pussy. You’re clutching onto her left leg, adorning the skin of her calf and knee with kisses. Her pleas rile you up further, and your left hand grabs her by the throat.

“Open wide for me,” you command with a stern voice, squeezing your hand slightly.

Sarah listens, always one to follow your orders. Her tongue sticks out as she stretches her mouth open for you. You lean down, spitting into it and letting your grip on her tighten as you ride her harder.

“Now swallow.”

Sarah does as you say, showing you the proof when her mouth opens up to you again.

“Such a good slut for me, hm? You’d let me do anything I wanted, wouldn’t you?” Your fingers stuff into her mouth, nearly gagging her as you begin to swivel your hips in a circle and throw your head back as the pit in your core tightens. It starts to build, tighter and tighter as you’re on the brink of your release. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.”

You retract your fingers from her mouth and they find purchase in her hair as you pull her head up to your chest. Sarah sticks out her tongue, slithering it against one of your nipples as her eyes lock on yours. Her hot breath against your flesh makes you shiver as it breezes over your wet bud. You cry out when you cum with Sarah right behind you as her head falls back against her pillow.

“Yes, fuck!”

You nearly collapse on top of her, your lips finding hers and capturing them in a greedy kiss. You lick into her mouth, tasting her as your chest heaves. When you pull away, her eyes are dancing with mischief.

“Wanna go again?”

Before you can respond, her phone dings, notifying you both that someone has texted her. The hand she has on your hip squeezes it in comfort as she reaches over and grabs it. Her smile fades, and your brow raises.

“Who is it?”

She gulps, “It’s John B. He…He needs me. Something went down between him and JJ.”

“Right, yeah,” you say, climbing off of her slowly. “I’ll just go then.”

“Y/N,” she speaks, her voice in a pleading tone. “You know that’s not what I want. But he’s my boyfriend. I’m supposed to be there for him.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t need you to remind me that you aren’t mine.” The bitterness seeps from your voice as you get dressed. “I’m just getting tired of being your secret.”

“Y/N, please. I’ll tell him. You just gotta give me time.”

“I have given you time! It’s been months, Sarah. And I know it isn’t easy for you, but, fuck, it’s not easy for me either. He’s my best friend.” Your movements come to a stop, and you find her eyes. “Maybe…maybe we should just end this. We both know that you won’t walk away from him, and I’m not gonna stick around and get hurt by you even more than I already have.”

Pain flashes across Sarah’s face and she gets out of bed. Her hands find your face when she reaches you, urging you to look at her again.

“Don’t. Don’t leave me.”

She pulls you in for a kiss, soft and head-spinning as her lips brush against yours. You try to resist, but you can’t help it. You melt into her and grant her access when her tongue swipes against your bottom lip.

You’re stuck. You’re in deep. Too deep.

you was with your man last night

and you just realized what you felt that night wasn’t wrong

thought me on your whole car ride, like

i hate that you ain’t your best friend (x2)

The drive home from Sarah’s is a mopey one. Void by The Neighbourhood buzzes through the speakers of your car, contributing to your sulking. Part of you wonders if she feels the same way you do. Far past hurt because you can’t be together. Envious when she sees someone else’s hands on you at a party, like she wants to rip them away from you and pull you into her own arms instead. Dying to kiss you when she catches your eye in public.

Part of you thinks that she’s just into you for the sex. That the reason she won’t leave John B is because she’s getting the best of both worlds. A relationship with someone who dotes on you without ever wavering, and great, passionate sex with someone she considers to be her current fixation.

But you can’t be more wrong.

Meanwhile, on Sarah’s ride over to John B’s, all she can think about is ending things with him. It’s horrible timing, but the longer she waits, the worse it becomes. She’s hurting badly. She wants to be with you. More than she’s ever wanted anything in her life. The way she loves you is tearing her up inside because she’ll never be able to truly bare her soul to you if she’s still in her relationship.

Another thing weighing on her mind is how close she came to losing you today. Hearing how wounded you were by the fact that she didn’t really and truly belong to you, that you’re constantly forced to watch the girl you love with your best friend. She’s always so wrapped up in her guilt toward John B that she failed to notice that the guilt and pain were taking its toll on you too.

So she has to buck up. If she doesn’t, then she’ll lose you for good.

i always knew from the beginning

the whole damn time, it’s you that i was feelin’

seems like things are better when forbidden

and that’s why i hate that

i hate that you ain’t your best friend

The next day, you’re still in a grumpy mood. You showered last night upon coming home, and you’ve been glued to your bed ever since. You roll your eyes as Jenny from Gossip Girl whines to her father Rufus about quitting school, and suddenly, you hear a knock on your front door. You let out a groan, dramatically rolling out of bed and making your way down to tell whoever’s choosing to bother you right now to fuck off. But when you open the door, you come face to face with the girl you love.

There she is, standing in the pouring rain, her clothes wholly drenched and her hair sticking to the sides of her face.

“Sarah? Come inside, you’re going to get pneumonia,” you say. Your fingers circle her wrist and you tug her into your warm home. Your hands rub her arms up and down as you try to warm her up. You can practically hear her teeth chattering as her cold body trembles. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I needed to talk to you,” she murmurs.

“And you couldn’t have called me? The roads are crazy, and this storm is supposed to be the worst one of the year.”

“I love you.”

Sarah blurts it out so fast that you think you’re dreaming.

“I— What?”

She tucks a wet clump of strands behind her ear, before grabbing both of your hands into hers. Her thumbs run over your knuckles as she searches for the courage to look at you again.

“You’re the reason I was with John B in the first place. I…I wanted to be close to you, anyway I could, because I thought that you were never going to make your move. You could never say how you felt about me, and then John B did, and I figured…this would be the only way to stay close to you. But I love you, Y/N. Not him.”

Your eyes are welling with tears, and you smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she confirms, her own lips curling up as she watches your eyes sparkle. “It was never him. It was always you.”

You use your intertwined hands to pull her closer. “You better kiss me, then.”

And she does.

sarah tag list (join here!): @maybanksbabe @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @urbestieboo @surftrips

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lexsssu · 2 years ago

Note

hello! i just read your mash fic and i wanna request a mash x (preferably fem) reader oneshot if thats ok with you. maybe something simple like the reader has known mash since childhood and is confessing to him (first kiss too??).

thanks <3

TAGS: Mash Burnedead/Fem!Reader

It's still a bit weird to me seeing how much traction my smol mash/reader drabble is getting even until now, but it's very much appreciated HAHAHA Also, sorry for taking so long to get to this and hope you like it!

"I love you, Mash."

Mash stared down at you without blinking, only making your already overwhelming anxiety practically skyrocket. You could feel how clammy your hands were as you clutched at the hem of your shirt, every molecule in your body screaming at you to run away and hide your face forever yet at the same time you were frozen in place.

"I shouldn't have said anything," you thought to yourself, biting your lower lip as regret swirled within you. Why did you even think doing this was a good idea?

While childhood friends falling in love and getting together isn't anything new in both real life and within the pages of your romance novels, it didn't guarantee that your own childhood friend would happily reciprocate your feelings and live happily ever after with you.

Because why would he?

Even if he didn't have an ounce of magic flowing through his veins, Mash was handsome, honest, and even if it might not seem like it at first, he had a heart of gold that cared for and protected his loved ones fiercely.

Meanwhile, you were just...you.

"Maybe I should tell him that I was just joking--"

"I love you too."

You don't get the chance to run away when Mash's toned arms wrap around your waist to pull you into a tight embrace. You were so close that could smell the faint scent of soap on his skin, fresh from a shower after his daily workout.

"I was planning on telling you before we started school, but...you beat me to the punch."

His statement drained out all the anxiety and fear that'd been brewing inside, leaving only warmth as the meaning of his words registered in your mind.

"Mash...you big dummy!" You laughed, an honest and unrestrained laugh as you realized that all your fears were for nothing.

Despite wearing his usual deadpan expression, you could pick out a certain softness in his gaze as he stared deeply into your own eyes. It feels like you're falling in love with him all over again when he looks at you like this. Your cheeks lit up at the attention.

"I'm gonna kiss you if you keep acting so cute, creampuff," stated Mash, voice lowering into what you could only describe as a husky purr.

His lips are so close now that if you so much as tilt your head, your lips would inevitably meet. Your heart throbbed at the mere thought.

"And what if I want you to kiss me...?"

Mash doesn't waste another second.

It becomes only just the first of many more kisses to come.

#lexsssu writes #mashle x reader #mashle #mash burnedead #mash burnedead x reader #lexsssu's request box 💌

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 6 months ago

Text

𓅨 Eros: Chapter Eight

Eros: Married to Dream of the Endless, you find yourself sent back in time to Ancient Greece where you, unfortunately, meet Oneiros. Fresh off a divorce and drowning the sorrows of his son’s death by indulging in the Panathenaia, you find yourself trapped beneath the lustful gaze of your future husband. In your defense, he seduced you first…

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Material.

To Note: Morpheus x Wife!Reader, Time Travel, Oneiros is used for AncientGreek!Morpheus.

Word Count: ~3.4k

Previous | Masterlist

You know better than to egg your husband on, but you are, after all, a glutton for punishment. So when Morpheus' eyes turn brilliant silver and your world shifts around your naked bodies, you realize you've just provoked him into making a point.

"Beloved, if you are still able to use your legs come the morrow, I am not jealous."

You most definitely are not going to be able to use your legs tomorrow, and probably the day after either. Morpheus' fingers trace a fiery path across your skin, leaving you with a burning desire that matches the intensity of his gaze. The air crackles with anticipation as he draws you closer, his breath hot against your ear.

"You asked for this, my love," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. And oh, how you welcome the sweet agony of his touch. In a heartbeat, Morpheus lifts you up effortlessly and carries you to your large, plush bed. Every muscle in his body seems to hum with barely restrained power as he lays you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. The look in his eyes is primal, full of desire and hunger that sends a thrill through your entire being.

His hands roam over your exposed skin, tracing the marks already there and igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume every rational thought. With a low growl, he claims your lips in a searing kiss, a promise of what is to come. Your body responds eagerly to his touch, arching into him as if seeking more, needing more. What a lusty bitch you are being. And he is going to devour every molecule of it.

His lips leave yours as his hands cradle one of your legs, and you watch in rapt attention as he nuzzles the delicate skin of your inner thigh. Then his tongue darts out, tracing a line from your knee to your hip, and you can feel the heat of his breath and the dampness of his tongue against your skin. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you feel your pulse throbbing in your veins, matching the rhythm of his kisses.

With a low groan, he sinks his teeth into the tender flesh of your thigh, blooming marks to match the ones you already have. Pleasure ricochets up your spine, making you twitch. His tongue dances over the bite, soothing and teasing the sting away as he rubs the sensitive area, sending waves of pleasure ebbing and flowing through your body.

The room fills with the sounds of his tongue lapping up the releases clinging to your skin, and you grip the sheets beneath you, your body shaking with need. You moan softly, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. You open your eyes, and in the dim light, you see him looking up at you, his hungry gaze locking with yours. He smiles, the predator finally unleashed.

His teeth graze your hip, and the pain-pleasure mix sends you into a frenzy, your hips rising to meet him, seeking out more of his relentless touch. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, a living inferno that threatens to consume you whole. His hands tighten around your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he anchors himself to you.

Thus begins the cleanup of your thighs before Morpheus, undoubtedly, makes another mess, this time by his cock. His tongue carves paths along your hypersensitive flesh, collecting the remnants of both you and his younger self, savoring the intoxicating taste.

His tongue continues its dance, teasing and tempting, as he caresses the sensitive nerves leading to the apex of your need. The electric sensations rip through your body, sparking a growing intensity within you. You can feel his breath, warm and moist, against your skin, and when his lips finally meet the delicate and engorged flesh of your cunt, you whine in anticipation.

His tongue plunges deep, teasing and flicking against your most sensitive spots as you moan in pleasure. His rhythm is steady, building your desire to overwhelming heights. You can feel the wetness seeping from your cunt, mixing with the saliva and staining his tongue with your taste.

The room now echoes with the sounds of your passionate cries and the wet slurping of his mouth. You think you can handle it, but as he begins to suck, you find yourself gasping for breath. It is more intense than you could have ever imagined; he is drawing out your essence, and you are helpless to stop him. You grip the sheets as the wave of pleasure begins to crest and crash over you.

His lips are now locked around your clit, his tongue swirling and flicking in a rhythm that has you writhing beneath him. You can feel the orgasm building, an unstoppable force that threatens to consume you whole. You call out his name, pleading for relief as the tension within you grows. Each stroke of his tongue feels like a lightning bolt, jolting through your nerves and intensifying the pleasure.

Your body arches off the bed, your hips bucking wildly as the climax hits you with the force of a thousand suns. You feel your muscles clench and release, your nerves dancing in an ecstatic frenzy. The room pulses with the intensity of your orgasm, the air thick with the scent of your arousal.

As the waves of pleasure subside, you lay there panting, completely spent. Morpheus gently lifts his head, his eyes locked on yours. There is a hunger in his gaze, a promise of more to come. With a knowing smile, he kisses your inner thigh, his warm breath whispering against your skin.

You gaze at him, breathless and swollen with desire. His eyes are dark and intense, mirroring the intensity of your feelings. With a slow, sensual movement, he traces the lines of your body with his fingers, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine.

"You are exquisite," he growls, his voice low and pulsing with a primal energy. "I need you now, more than ever."

Your heart races, the thought of his touch sending waves of warmth through your entire being. With a nod of consent, you pull him closer, your eyes locked on his. His lips meet yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving deep, exploring the sweetness of your mouth.

Your fingers now tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. As his lips leave yours, they trail down your neck, his teeth gently nibbling at your skin.

His hands roam your body, tracing the curves and dips with deliberate intention. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, as if he carries the entire world's desire within him. The room seems to sway around you, lost in the swell of your passion.

As his fingers reach the delicate skin at the small of your back, you let out a soft moan, feeling yourself surrender to his touch. The need within you grows, and as he pulls away from the kiss, you can see it mirrored in his eyes.

He positions himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he slides inside you. The sensation is one of pure ecstasy, a fusion of two bodies embraced in the raw and primal hunger that has consumed you both.

You know how truly fucked you are when his thrusts start out slow.

Each movement is deliberate, calculated, as if he is savoring every second of the connection between the two of you. His eyes are still locked onto yours, his gaze intense, unwavering.

Your eyes roll back, pleasure washing over you like a tidal wave. Each foray of his hips sends electric pulses through your body, your cunt tightening with every thrust. You can't help but arch your back, meeting him with the same hunger that burns in his eyes. Even the minutes without him felt like eternity to you.

The room becomes a symphony of louder, more passionate sounds, the wet slapping of skin on skin, and shared moans and gasps as the intensity of your connection grows. His hips move faster now, each thrust deeper, driving you both higher and higher into the frenzy of need.

You feel the tension building again in your core, the familiar ache of the orgasm about to consume you. You claw at the sheets beneath you, your nails digging into the fabric as a low, primal growl escapes your lips.

He drives into you harder, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze now filled with raw lust. The pleasure builds, the release inevitable. Your entire body tenses as the wave of orgasm crashes over you, your cries filling the room as you are consumed by the pleasure.

You hear him growling, his own release imminent, and then he is coming too, hot and explosive as he fills your more than abused cunt with his seed. You feel him collapse on top of you, his body shaking with the aftershocks of his release. Your breaths become synchronized, and you lie there, spent and entwined, the only sounds in the room being your still ragged breathing and the occasional twitch of his hips as the last remnants of his orgasm continue to pulse within him.

When your fingers find his hair and you stroke them through the midnight strands, you feel Morpheus nuzzle his face into your neck. The silent tears you can feel against your inflamed skin almost tear your heart open yet again.

You clutch him closer to you, wrapping your arms tight while curling a leg around his.

“It hurt so much to see you like that,” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. Morpheus' arms constrict, his jaw tight as he kisses the side of your neck. “I couldn’t— I couldn’t just stand around and watch you in pain.”

“Is that why you hid from me?” Morpheus’s words are almost lost against your flesh, but you catch them.

You nod, unable to speak, the pain in your heart echoing the pain in your physical body.

“Oh, Morpheus,” you say softly, “I tried to make it better. I tried so hard to make you forget that pain. But I’m worried I made it worse.”

"Do not speak of such things, beloved," Morpheus murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. He gently pulls back to look into your eyes, his own blazing silver. “You gave me shelter in a time when I had lost myself in my own shortcomings.”

He leans in to kiss you, tenderly brushing his lips against yours, his warmth seeping into your worry-filled heart.

“I do have a question,” you state, your mind lingering on the feral fucking you and Oneiros had spent days partaking in.

"Yes?" he replies, tracing the curve of your cheek with his thumb, still just as amazed and enamored by your beauty as he had been over 2000 years ago. Your gaze turns frank.

“Why haven’t you ever fucked me like that?” Morpheus draws back, the corners of his lips twitching as he considers your question. His eyes never leave yours, and a strange mix of emotions flashes in his gaze before settling into a thoughtful, almost wistful expression.

"You... you mean during the... the time... during your mortal life?" he asks, his voice slightly thick as he struggles to find the words. "You are the one that my being would be destroyed and that the fabric of the universe would unravel should anything ever happen to you," he continues, ever dramatic, his thumb still gently stroking your cheek. Then his eyes darken a shade. “But given your lascivious actions in Panathenaia and insinuations of jealousy…”

“Gird my loins?” you offer with a teasing smirk. Silver glimmers with stars and you sink into your mattress at the look your husband gives you. You really should stop egging your husband on.

His eyes fill with a desire you have never seen before, a hunger that seems to come from a place deep within. And then, without warning, he moves, his lips crushing fiercely against yours as he devours you in a kiss that promises passion beyond anything you could have imagined.

Your heart races as his hands suddenly hold your face, urging you to open your mouth and accept his tongue. You comply, the kiss becoming more intense, fueled by the unspoken desires that have been building between you for eons. You feel his lips exploring every inch of your mouth, his tongue dancing with yours in a rhythm that syncopates with the lustful beating of your hearts.

You press your body against his, your breasts, soft and sensitive, flush against a chest chiseled from sheets of stardust. Your nails dig into his broad shoulders as you kiss him back, lost in the torrent of desire coursing through your veins. The room seems to dance with the pulsating energy of a thousand galaxies, and you can feel the echo of a thousand heartbeats thrumming in sync with yours.

Morpheus's hand drifts down from your face, tracing the curve of your neck, and then moves lower to cup your breast. You moan against his lips, your eyes fluttering as he expertly strokes the sensitive peak with his thumb, blooming a wildfire of sensations that make you squirm beneath him. With each stroke of his thumb, your desire intensifies, and you become increasingly aware of the hard length of his erection pressing against your leg.

“Morpheus,” you gasp in between ferocious kisses that make it difficult to form words. “Stop toying with me!” You make an effort to buck your hips up, basking in the electric feel of his cock sliding against your cunt.

His lips leave yours, trailing up your jawline, and he whispers, "I've wanted this for so long," as he nips at your earlobe. "And I have no intention of toying with you."

With that, he releases your breast and slides his hands down your waist to your hips, pulling you close against him. His erection, now fully erect and pulsing with desire, presses against your soaking sore lips. You whimper softly as he begins to grind against you, both of you lost in the building passion.

His hands drift down to your thighs, his fingers digging into the soft skin as he squeezes and lifts you to wrap your legs around him. You arch your back, your heels digging into his back, meeting his teasing thrusts eagerly. So close but not in you yet.

Morpheus slowly breaks the tender kiss, his warm breath caressing your ear as he whispers, "Let's make love, my beloved. So you may intimately know the one to whom you have promised your heart." The weight of his words hangs in the air, thick and alluring like a foggy night.

As he speaks, he slips the head of his throbbing cock between your dripping folds, slowly pushing into you inch by delicious inch. You cry out at the exquisite sensation, your body trembling with anticipation. He reaches around and cups your breast again, tweaking your sensitive nipple, causing you to air out a strained groan.

You grip his back, your nails digging into his skin, desperate for more of him. The pounding of your heart echoes in your ears as he continues to thrust, his pace becoming more frenzied with each passing second. The room swirls around you, a kaleidoscope of colors and shadows, as your body surrenders to the pleasure he is bringing.

With an overwhelming yearning for release, you let out a guttural moan, his name escaping your lips like a plea. The intoxicating whirlwind of lust consumes you both, drowning out any sense of time or place. Morpheus' laughter echoes around you, a deep rumble that sends shivers down your spine and ignites a fire within you. He intensifies his movements, his body becoming a relentless force upon yours as he delves deeper and harder, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you like a thunderous storm. Each collision of your bodies is filled with the raw intensity of desire, leaving you both breathless and lost in the ecstasy of the moment.

As the intensity builds to a fever pitch, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion. Your body is no longer your own; it belongs to Morpheus, and he is taking you to new heights of pleasure. With each thrust, he seems to be unlocking something deep within you, breaking down any barriers that had previously held you back.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, and your breaths come in ragged gasps as you cling to him with your nails. Every muscle in your exhausted body is taut, braced for the explosive release that has been building since the moment his lips touched yours once more.

Morpheus's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and dip as he continues to move relentlessly inside you. His lips trail hot kisses along your neck and shoulders, and his words fall upon your skin like a delicate caress.

"You are mine," he growls against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "And I am yours."

The mere sound of his assertion sends a searing wave of heat coursing through you, heightening the exquisite agony that has you clawing for release.

Your body responds to his dominance, whipping your thoughts and desires into a feverish frenzy. You wriggle beneath him, craving to be completely subsumed by him—anchored to him as he continues to thrust, chasing that ephemeral edge that hangs within reach.

Every muscle in your body tightens, each nerve ending on fire as he drives you to the precipice of ecstasy, and you know there is only one place to fall.

And so you do.

As your body surrenders to the waves of pleasure washing over you, your cunt flutters and flexes around his cock, squeezing him tightly. Your heart races in unison with his, your breath hitching with each other's ragged gasps. You are no longer just two bodies intertwined but one entity consumed by the unrelenting force of desire.

The aftermath leaves you breathless and drenched in sweat, your limbs shaking as you collapse against the bed sheets. You shift in place as your body screams at you that it has had enough. For now.

“I don’t think I can use my legs now,” you softly complain, letting your arms hang loose around Morpheus. “And I need a bath. I miss shampoo, and the jets in my bath.”

“Allow me to carry you," Morpheus whispers, his lips grazing your forehead tenderly. You mourn the loss of his body against yours and even wince a little as his cock slides free from your abused cunt. He gently lifts you into his arms and carries you toward the archway of your bath. You take this moment to press your face into his neck, indulging in his natural coolness.

"Take your time, I will wait," Morpheus says, setting you gently on the edge of the bathtub. You air out a short huff.

“I said I needed a bath, I didn’t say I needed a bath alone.” Your statement surprises Morpheus, as he thought that after your torrid affair in Athens and subsequent act of rather aggressive passion upon returning home, you would want space. He certainly wouldn’t hold it against you if you refused to let him touch you intimately for the next few days, even a week. But no, you flutter your eyes at him in a beckoning call that implores Morpheus to join you.

Wordlessly, he complies with your request, stepping into the bubbling tub before reaching for your body still perched at the edge. As he sits down, he cradles your body within his arms and pulls you close, the water steaming and enveloping you both. The warm water immediately begins to soothe your tense muscles, washing away the remnants of sweat and exertion.

“Do you know what happened?” you softly ask after a few moments of silence. Morpheus maintains a passive face while anger surfaces within his eyes. It pains him to utter the truth.

“No,” he states lowly, a tone you rarely hear. “But I shall explore great lengths to ensure that it does not happen again.”

“I know you will,” you whisper. Your fingers trace a gentle pattern on his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his skin. "But for now, let's focus on the present. I missed you. I missed you greatly."

He leans down and presses his lips to yours, kissing you lightly yet with the passion of a thousand poets. Your fingertips glide along his jaw, tangling in his unruly hair as he continues to kiss you. You will never be sure of what occurred when you entered the Ocean of Dreams. But one thing is certain: no matter what time you find yourself in, you will undoubtedly end up within Morpheus’s arms, one way or another. At least in your defense, he will definitely seduce you first.

Date Published: 6/19/24

Last Edit: 6/19/24

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#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman #dream the endless #sandman x reader #lord morpheus #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #dream the endless x reader #morpheus

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wint3r-h3art · 2 years ago

Text

Push & Pull | Namor

summary: He’s very good at pushing you, but you’re just as good at pulling him in and stringing him up.

Word count: 4.3k (Sorry I really got carried away 🥲)

warnings: Established relationship, brain rotting smut. no plot at all. fingering, cunnilingus, face riding, vaginal sex & choking, sub!Namor

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

a\n: I’m very much hungover, but I pulled through and finished this. This is the No Power AU. Talokan is its own independent nation in this one. No beta as usual, so if I missed anything, I apologize. If you do like it, please please comment & reblog. It means a lot. Feedback just helps me create more works.

**** Do not repost and claim it as your own, or copy, or plagiarize my work in any sort of form.

His eyes fixed on you from the moment you got out of the bathroom. Through the vanity mirror, you noticed the way those liquid ambers stared right through you. An underlying hunger simmered beneath the surface was almost palatable.

Heat slowly slithered up your neck and straight to your face. Your breath caught in your throat as your heartbeat surged. For that brief second, you knew what that look meant, yet you didn’t dare to acknowledge it, knowing full well that none of you would make it out of this hotel room tonight if you state the obvious.

You exhale for the first time as you slowly put on the pair of jade earrings he had gifted you on your birthday. It was obvious that your hands were trembling from the anticipation alone. Your gaze shifted to the mirror, watching him watch you as he brought his coffee cup to his lips. You just knew that kind of look.

The thought excited you because right now it was all about the will–who would break first? It wouldn’t be long–it had never been long. Nine times out of ten were you.

“Aren’t you going to dress?” you asked, turning slightly to give him a full view of your cleavage.

The smooth silky dress left little to the imagination. Namor could see the way your nipples pressed against the thin fabric, and the sight made his cock twitch in his pants. His mouth watered at the thought of what it would feel like to have those small, perky buds in between his lips.

You looked extra delectable tonight, and the thought of going out to the gala suddenly felt like a pain in the ass for him. He wanted nothing more than to have you begging and pleading for him instead of this diplomatic dinner that none of you wanted to be there. Surely his cousin, Namora can help him out of this little predicament.

“I don’t take long, in yakunaj,” he murmured almost too slowly that you could only pick out the word “in yakunaj”. “I prefer watching you getting ready instead.”

The smirk almost gave it away. Oh yes, he loved to watch you dress alright. It was because there was something satisfying about the thought of fucking you out of it that made him giddier than a kid in the candy store.

“Do I want to know what you are thinking, Ku’ku’lkan?” Your hands were too busy trying to put on the pearl necklace, but of course to no avail.

He chuckled. You both knew the sort of game he was playing. He was trying to be coy with you, acting as if he wasn’t going to do anything about you. Oh, you definitely knew about his little game. A little push was all it takes before you completely surrender yourself to him–something about you willingly submitting to him just aroused him.

You took his little chuckle as the answer to your question. He had no reason to hide his desire from you–why would he if you were more than willing to give in to him so easily?

“Here, let me help you,” he said softly–almost too calmly as he shifted underneath the comforter, trying to hide his raging hard-on from you.

Your breath shuddered when you felt his warm fingertips brush against the nape of your neck. Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore as your back warmed by his presence. Every molecule in your body was aware of his proximity, and the need to be closer to him was stronger than ever. His magnetism was a danger on its own.

And you loved every moment of it.

Your body stiffened at that instance as if you were trying to compose yourself, but that seemed to slowly fall apart the moment you felt his hand slip into the back of your gown and reached around to cup your breasts. Namor found your nipples and he tugged at them, twisting and stroking until the small nubs became erected. His large, calloused palms massaged and kneaded your soft mount slowly, taking his sweet time to relish the way they feel.

Your head fell back against his shoulder with a low, shaky moan.

“I always love the way they feel, do you know that?” he said almost lowly all you could feel was the reverberation that shot from your back. Your eyes fluttered as you watched him through the mirror. His desires finally reached a boiling point. You could feel his lust seeping through his very pore. “I’m going to worship them, sucking on them until you come while my cock is buried deep inside you.”

Words failed you as his words slowly registered in your mind. You couldn’t help but whine in his arms, imagining the things he was going to do to you.

“You like that don’t you, the way your cunt gripped my cock so tightly that I could barely move?” He spoke as he rolled his hips. “Feel that. My cock gets really hard whenever I think about your pussy.”

“In rein….” you managed to utter out loud in between your gasps as you relished the way his clothed cock feels against the cleft of your ass cheeks. Hoping and wishing for more as your pussy clenched and unclenched at the emptiness. Your arousal practically leaked through the thin fabric of your pantie as he continued to ground his bulge on you. Your body felt like it was set ablaze as the image of him sinking deep within you was becoming more apparent.

Namor released you to tear the back of your gown open. A surprised gasp slipped past your lips at the way the cool air felt against your feverish skin.

“If you keep doing that, I won’t have anything else to wear,” you panted.

The dress he just tore into shreds was one of your favorites, and he knew it too. Your tone betrayed you though. You loved this–you loved it when your lover was rough with you. Something about the way he let himself go and embraced his instinct. You wanted more. You needed more. You wouldn’t mind begging him either. He loved it. It fed his ego. Arching your back, your breasts pressed against the hard plane of his chest. A shaky breath slipped out of you and stared up to meet his gaze.

His need outweighed his patience. He caught you, and his mouth captured yours with a rough and demanding kiss that made your head spin. Desperation filled his vein as he settled you down on the large California king bed. He practically tore at his pants as he stared down at you. You tried to swallow, but your throat was bone dry as your eyes landed on cock.

“I’ll buy you many more, in yakunaj.” He said before pulling your thin, flimsy panties off of you with his teeth. His eyes trained on you as he was doing so. “Now spread your legs for me.”

Biting your lips, you slowly spread your thighs apart, bearing all of yourself to him. You watched the way his gaze darkened. Namor licked his lips as he joined you on the bed, pinning your hips down, his gaze now on your glistening cunt. You swore those minutes felt like ages as you struggled below him, wishing for him to do something with his mouth or with his cock.

His thumb pressed against your swollen bud, rubbing in a slow circle. He glanced down at you, his eyes were like liquid gold beneath the amber light. You could see the way Adam’s apple bobbled by the way he was trying to soothe the ache of his dry throat. There was nothing more magnificent than you are now, laying here, all spread out. Wet and ready for him.

Namor slowly stroked your pussy lips between his fingers, squeezing it slightly till your slippery juice leaked out between the folds to coat his digits. It was hard to not moan when he was toying with you like this.

“Darling…” you said again, your lids fluttering as you tried to look at him through the haze of this lust of yours.

“...Hmmm?” He asked, looking at your face as he dipped two fingers inside you. A groan rippled in his throat as he began to pump in and out of you. “This pussy of yours…I swear is going to be the death of me.”

Your body jolted at the welcoming intrusion. You slowly rocked yourself onto his fingers, and his lips pulled back into a grin as he slowly stroked himself with his other hand.

You watched him through bleary eyes. Your mouth hung agape as you watched the way his large hand slowly glided along his hard shaft. Beads of his precum glistened underneath the dim light, leaking out of the slit of the fat, bulbous head of his cock, and it made your mouth water.

“Hmm, look at you getting off on my fingers…hmmm. It feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nodded as you rocked faster onto him, wishing for more.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come for me.”

Your fingers slid down to your slicked cunt, circling and rubbing at your body until you moaned heatedly. It felt so good, but it wasn’t as good as having your husband touching you instead. You closed your eyes and imagined the way his rough fingertips worked you instead. You wanted to feel his mouth on your clit, sucking on it and licking at it as his cock was deep inside you.

Namor’s lips pulled back into a satisfying smile as he watched you slowly work yourself up. You were practically panted now as he continued to pump his fingers all the way to his knuckle, making the wet squelching sound even more apparent. Your slick was practically coating his hand the more he worked on you.

You on the other hand were slowly unraveling right before his very eyes as your fingers moved more firmly now on your clit. A moan worked its way from your dry throat as the warm desirous heat swelled within you.

His name fell from your lips tremulously as he could feel your wall begin to flutter around his thick digits. You would have been shied and hid your face if it wasn’t for how eager you were for your release. The need that pulsed through your vein was scorching hot, and you wanted nothing more than to feel it burn your entire being.

You came with a shout as your thighs clenched almost too hard around him. Namor could feel your release coating his hand as he slowed his movement. He watched as your body convulsed before him as you tried to ride out your orgasm.

Breathing hard, you stared up to meet his gaze. His lips were on yours again with a hot and demanding kiss that left you weak and breathless. His thick, masculine body lay between your legs as he kept all of his weight on his knees. His erection pressed against the center of your body. Every inch of you felt like it was being burned from the imprint of his touches alone, and he had barely done anything more than fucking you on his fingers. It was almost madness how much your body reacted to his touch alone.

Gone was the control by the way you wrapped your legs around his thick and muscular waist as you returned his kiss with a full force of your own. Your boldness surprised him, yet intrigue him, and his desire to have you take over this little dance was becoming apparent.

“I want to be on top,” you murmured as you struggled to pull back from his kiss. Your lover’s eyes seemed to glint underneath the dim light. You could see the small smirk that was etched at the corner of his perfect visage. You could feel his cock twitch in between your legs as well. Perhaps the prospect of you being on top turned him on, or perhaps it was your tone–so bold and so determined. It thrilled him and excited him.

Without a single word of protest, he rolled over, bringing you on top of him. Namor stared at you. His large palm grazed down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He could feel the way your heart beat almost frantically against your chest. Your nerve may be fraying, but he damn knew the kind of depravity awaited him.

You stared down at him with a smirk of your own before you leaned in and kissed him, tracing the outline of his perfect lips with your tongue. He didn’t have to ask because you were as eager as him.

This week has been as stressful for him as it was for you. Everyone wants a piece of him one way or another. A diplomatic lunch to dinner to the fucking gala that you knew he didn’t want to attend. Even with you here with him, he barely spent time with you as his kingly duty demanded his attention more so than ever. His every move was being watched and criticized. Just like when Wakanda made itself known to the world, the nation of Talokan had been thriving in secret from foreign invasion for centuries. The nation had just recently made itself known for its existence to the world. Because of this, he had been asked to come here for a little talk–which you might have guessed was for the purpose of trading or sharing the resources. Knowing how unyielding your husband could be. The gala was merely a disguise in their attempt at negotiation.

He tasted so decadence–of chocolate and coffee as your tongue slid and grazed over him. Your hand gripped his hair, holding him to you as your mouth devoured him. It was all lips and tongue and a pure carnal desire that permeated your blood. Your response only urged him closer to kiss you deeper until both of you were panting and breathless.

His arms went around you. His blunt nails dug and scrapped along your back as you arched into him, pressing your sensitive nipples into his hard chest. You could feel his muscles corded and strained beneath your pussy by the way he tried to control himself from doing anything more.

“Tell me what you want, in reina?” he asked as you pulled back to stare into his warm brown eyes. Devotion filled his gaze as he looked up to meet yours. This was him trying his best to give control to you.

“I think retribution is much needed–especially, after the stunt you pulled on my dress earlier.”

Namor bit his lips to hide his little smile as he tried to compose his expression.

“And what kind of retribution are you asking?”

“I think…you’re talking far too much, in yakunaj. It’s time for you to put that mouth of yours into good use, don’t you think so?”

A noise emitted from his throat as he knew what you meant. Namor helped you up until you were kneeling astride his head, giving quite a view of your drenching pussy. His hand immediately trailed down to his shaft as he slowly stroked it to ease the ache.

“Not yet, darling,” you gripped his hand, halting from whatever of his movement. “Make me come first, and perhaps I’ll consider letting you use my mouth.”

He smirked and let go of his shaft altogether as his hands were now gripping your ass cheek. You could feel him trying his best to not knead at your supple flesh as he stared up to meet your gaze. An undeniable hunger simmered beneath those liquid ambers.

Without a word you slowly sank yourself down onto his mouth. A yelp left your lips at the way his tongue greeted your slicked heat, plunging into your drenching pussy with shallow penetration. His tongue rasped through the slit from bottom to top. The rough, coarse hair of his beard scratched and burned your sensitive skin in the most delicious burn. Your hand flew straight to his har, bunching in tightly in your hand while he was clasping your thighs and holding you there.

His moan reverberated right through your clit, making the small bud throb and ache. There was an intent in the way he was eating your cunt. He walked a fine line in the way he was worshiping you and using you to state his own desires at the same time. Every lick and every flicker of his tongue was meant to show his devotion to please you, yet at the same time, he was sating his own desires that felt endless.

Obscene sounds filled the room, yet none of you seemed to care or noticed. Your hips rolled, and every now and then the tip of his nose would brush against your clit, sending your nerve into a frenzy. Your husband was being a menace at the way he was slurping and moaning so loudly that you would have been mortified by the sound alone if you were sane. The thing was, you weren’t. You were as gone as he was.

Heat curled at the pit of your stomach as jolts of pleasure began to build until you felt like you couldn’t take anymore. The warmth of his mouth and the moist heat of his tongue were killing you slowly as your pleasure continued to build. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest as you were trying to keep up with your arousal. Your wall began to flutter around his tongue the more you ground yourself on his mouth, and eventually, like a tidal wave crashed against the rock, you came hard with a strangled noise as your body convulsed and strained above him. Your thighs clenched almost too tightly around him that it would have choked a normal man out, but not him–not your husband.

Namor loved this sort of reaction, and he loved that he could give you such a mindblowing release with just his tongue. It was certainly something for his ego there. He only encouraged further as his grip locked down on you tight, pulling you until you covered him with nothing but your essence. His tongue continued to lap at your release, drinking you up until the last drop.

Your legs shook slightly as your body was still sensitive to his touches. Reluctantly you pulled back to sit on his chest and stared down at him. A visible, shit-eating grin was more than visible on his face. This was not a punishment to him–oh no, he was enjoying this a bit much, you thought.

“Do I want to know what you are thinking right now, in rein?”

“No. I just love the way you taste, darling,” he said as he wiped his mouth with his fingers before putting those same fingers into his mouth. The sight made you quiver. Your pussy barely recovered from the mind-blowing orgasm he had just pulled out of you. How in the world are you going to get this man to beg for you?

“Truly?” You asked as you lazily stroked his erection, watching him trying to stop whatever noise from leaving those lips of his. His precum leaked out of the slit and slowly rolled down the shaft and onto your hand. His eyes fluttered shut as his mouth parted, relishing the way the warm flood of pleasure worked through him.

No word came out of him as he struggled to maintain his sanity. His hand gripped the sheet beneath as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Tell me what you want, my darling,” you said softly as your hand continued to work his thick cock. He was so heavy, and warm in your palm. He was more than ready. “Beg me to ride you.”

His lips pressed into a thin line as his body arched off the bed briefly. You could feel him shudder beneath you, and you know he was at the breaking point. Just a little more push and he would break, you smirked.

“Don’t be stubborn now, my sweet husband. Surely, you want this as much as I do,” you tease as you slowly knelt astride his body. Slowly you sank down until you were hovering over his cock. You slowly moved up and down, coating his shaft with your moist, slicked heat, but you made no effort to put him inside you.

“Feel how wet I am for you, darling?” you teased as you leaned forward. Your hand was holding onto his broad chest as you rutted yourself on top of him.

And then you hear it, the low rumble of his voice reverberating from his chest. It was so low that you couldn’t make it out the first time around.

“What is it, in rein?”

Gritted his teeth, he spoke. “Please, fuck me.” His eyes glossed over. His hands grasp at the soft skin of your hips. Desperation filled his voice as he looked up to meet your gaze.

“Now that isn’t as bad is it?” you smirked as you grasped his length and lined the fat head of his cock against your entrance.

His breath hitched in his throat as you slowly sank onto his length, slowly inching down. You both moaned in unison at the way he stretched out your tight hole. Namor fought his breath for control. You were so tight and hot around his cock. Your muscles gripped him tightly in your warm, slicked heat. His mind scrambled for control of his own body, but it felt like his rationality was gone.

His large palm slid down your ass as you slid up and down his thick cock. You were so full and oh so stretched out. You could feel every ridge and every vein that ran underneath his shaft. Your brain filled with nothing except for the thought of being so stuffed up by his cock. His warmness and his hardness took your breath away whenever you sank all the way down until your ass hit his thighs.

“You feel so good, in reina,” he groaned, hands squeezing at your hips every time you sank down a little harder than before.

Your hand mindlessly roamed his broad chest, hand squeezing at his pectoral occasionally before it landed on his shoulder.

“Wrap your hand around my neck…” he mumbles.

“What?” You stopped your movement altogether as you stared down at your husband.

“Please put your hand around my neck and slowly squeeze it as you fuck me,” he spoke again as he slowly lifted your hips up and began to pound into you from below.

Staring deep into his eyes, your hand slowly wrapped around his thick neck firmly, but not too tightly. You could feel him swallowing as he continued to piston his hip upward to meet your heat. You groaned as the pleasure clouded your mind once more. You did as he had asked, and you have never seen him lose himself this way before.

His mouth hung agape as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. His movement faltered as you took over to ride him hard, bouncing on his cock as if your life depended on it.

You have heard him moan before, but not like this. There was a raw edge to it that made your pussy throb and ached more than before. It didn’t take long of course as he came inside you, dumping his load until it started to leak out of you as you continued to fuck him.

He was practically heaving at this point as you slowed your movement. His eyes were bleary, dazed and so spent as he lay there. His soft curls were disheveled as he brought his hand to his lips, trying to bite the knuckle as he bathed in the afterglow of his release.

You were still on top of him, but you were no longer moving. You were as breathless as he was as you sat there with his now soft cock inside of you. The aftermath was messy, but you didn’t care. You knew it always ended with one of you covered in a mess.

And for once, you were thankful it was your husband.

“Remind me to choke you next time…” you said in between your heavy breathing. “I’ve never seen you this worked up before….”

Namor chuckled beneath you as heat flooded his face. “If my queen wants to be on top more often, who am I to protest such a request?”

You rolled your eyes as you tried to hide the smile. Oh, now he’s in a good mood.

“Hmm, perhaps we can start by getting ready for that gala that is thrown in your honor?”

Your husband grumbled as he rolled to his side, bringing you with him as well. “Perhaps in a bit.”

“We are going to be late,” you protested, slapping his chest, but to no avail. Namor felt like he needed a nap, so he was going to get that nap of his.

“Tell them we operate on our time…the Talokanil time. They won’t know what that is.”

You could feel his shit-eating grin by the way he was mumbled in your chest. He was in that mood, and you just couldn’t do anything about it…even if you are his queen.

“If Namora decided to yell at you, I will not stop her…”

Your husband looked up from your chest. “15 minutes…that is all I ask.”

You sighed. “Fine. 15 minutes. I’m setting the timer now.”

Your husband let out a groan as he pulled you closer to him. “Fine.”

a/n: some translation from the fic.

in yakunaj: my love, my darling, my dearest

in rein: my king

in reina: my queen

#namor x reader #namor x you #namor imagine #namor smut #kukulkan x reader #kukulkan x you #kukulkan smut #namor fanfiction #k’uk’ulkan x reader #namor of talokan #namor x y/n #mcu namor #namor mcu #tenoch huerta #tenoch huerta imagine #Talokan #black panther 2

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radioactiveradley · 6 months ago

Text

By popular (???) request, based on the outcome of this poll.

A WARNING: you guys really did pick the most complex one. This is loooooong. A DISCLAIMER. This is a silly little lesson aimed at folks who know sod-all about MRI. There are memes. There is (arguably) overuse of the term ‘big chungus’. If you are looking to delve deeper into the mysteries of K-Space, this is not the Tumblr post for you.

So, without further ado...

Today I am introducing you to my one true love. The legend. The icon.

Ferromagnetic material loves him. Claustrophobic people fear him.

Yeah, that’s right – we’re talking about the big boom-boom sexyboy magnet machine, hereby known as Big Chungus.

Aka...

MAGNETIC RESONANCE IMAGING

First off, though? Let’s start small.

Very, very small.

Meet HYDROGEN.

The nucleus of this element is made up of a single proton, which has a magnetic dipole – i.e., it acts like a tiny bar magnet.

Hydrogen is also a component of water. As we all know, we’re basically walking sacks of goop – meaning that Hydrogen is abundant throughout our bodies.

Therefore, when we stick you in a strong magnetic field… say, within our friend Big Chungus… we can manipulate all those tiny Hydrogen atoms in a variety of fun ways.

Under normal conditions, all your Hydrogen protons are pointing every-which-way.

But in Big Chungus, there is a strong longitudinal magnetic field that travels along the Z-axis of the machine. So, all your teeny tiny Hydrogen protons swivel to align with that field!

If a proton’s energy is LOWER than that of the longitudinal magnetic field (a majority), they will align PARALLEL with the field. If their energy is HIGHER (a minority) they will align ANTI-PARALLEL.

As most of the protons align with the longitudinal magnetic field, the net magnetisation vector within the human body is also longitudinal! This is called the thermodynamic equilibrium – the resting state for all those li’l protons when your body is within Big Chungus.

(You won’t feel any different, btw! We’re flipping a bunch of teeny-tiny bits inside you, but you won’t feel a thing!) (You might do later, when we activate the Gradient coils. We’ll….. get to that)

But, while all of this is very cool, it gives us no actual information. We gotta play some more with your protons - which brings us to arguably the most important concept in MRI. I mean, it’s literally in the name!

Let’s go back to our Hydrogen protons.

We’ve established that they’re all pointing in different directions. But they’re not just sitting still. They’re spinning and wobbling all over the shop.

We call this rotational wobbly movement precession.

In their natural state, these protons all precess at different speeds. When we subject them to Big Chungus, as well as all lining up neatly with the magnetic field, they all start to precess at the same speed.

However, their magnetic North will be pointing to different points at any given moment. Imagine two clocks, both of which are ticking at the same rate, but which have been set to read different times.

This is where magnetic resonance comes in.

In addition to the homogenous longitudinal magnetic field provided by Big Chungus, we also create an oscillating magnetic field in the transverse plane by using a radiofrequency (RF) pulse. We can tune that oscillation to the ‘resonant frequency’ of Hydrogen atoms.

Every molecule capable of resonance has its own specific frequency. We use a funky equation called the Larmor Equation to work this out, or, as I like to call it, W, BOY!!!

(The weird ‘w’ is the resonance frequency; the weird ‘Bo’ is the magnetic field strength, and the weird ‘Y’ is the gyromagnetic ratio of each particular element.)

So, we know exactly at what frequency to apply that RF pulse to your protons, to achieve resonance!

But what is resonance?

In acoustics, a ‘resonant frequency’ is the frequency an external wave needs to be applied at in order to create the maximum amplitude of vibrations within the object. Like when opera singers shatter glass with their voice! They’re singing at the resonant frequency of the glass, which makes it vibrate to the point where it compromises its structural integrity.

A similar concept applies in magnetic precession, with, uh, less destructive results. We’re not exploding anything inside of you, don’t worry!

(We do explode your innards accidentally in Ultrasound sometimes, via a different mechanism. But you’ll have to ask me more about that later. >:3)

To put it simply, magnetic resonance is the final step in getting those protons to BEHAVE. Now, the clocks have been corrected so their hands move at exactly the same time, in the same position. The protons are precessing ‘in phase’. Yay!

This creates transverse magnetisation, as the magnetic vectors of all those protons (which, remember, act as bar magnets) will swing around to point in one direction at the same time.

But the cool thing about resonance? It also allows the protons to absorb energy from the RF pulse.

(Do NOT ask me how. Do NOT. I will cry.)

And remember how the higher-energy protons flip anti-parallel to the longitudinal magnetic vector of Big Chungus, while the lower-energy protons are aligned parallel? And because we have more low-energy protons than high-energy protons, our body gains a longitudinal magnetic vector to match Big Chungus?

Zapping those protons at their resonant frequency gives 'em energy (a process known as ‘excitation’, which I love, because I get to imagine them putting little party hats on and having a rave).

So, loads of them flip anti-parallel! Enough to cancel out the net longitudinal magnetic vector of our bodies – despite the best efforts of good ol’ Chungus!

(Keep trying, Chungus. We love you.)

Our protons are as far from our happy equilibrium as they can possibly be. We’ve lost longitudinal magnetisation, and gained transverse magnetisation. Oh noooo however can we fix this ohhhh noooooo

Simple. We turn off the RF pulse.

Everything returns to that sweet, sweet thermodynamic equilibrium.

Longitudinal magnetisation is regained. I.e., the protons realign with Big Chungus’s longitudinal magnetic field, with the majority aligned parallel rather than anti-parallel.

This is called SPIN-LATTICE RELAXATION.

‘T1 time’ is the point by which 63% of longitudinal magnetisation has been regained after application of the RF pulse. A T1-weighted image shows the difference between T1 relaxation times of different tissues.

And, without that oscillating RF pulse, we lose resonance – the protons fall out of phase randomly, due to the delightful unpredictable nature of entropy, and Transverse magnetisation reduces.

This is called SPIN-SPIN RELAXATION.

Or, if we’re feeling dramatic…

‘T2 time’ is the point by which 37% of the transverse magnetisation has been lost. A T2-weighted image shows the difference between T2 relaxation times of different tissues.

(Spin-spin is objectively a hilarious phrase to say in full seriousness when surrounded by important physics-y people. However, a word to the wise: do not make a moon-moon joke. They are not on Tumblr (present company excluded). They will not understand. You will get strange looks.)

But remember how resonance lets our protons shlorp up that sweet, sweet energy from the RF pulse? Well, in order to get back to thermodynamic equilibrium and line up with Big Chungus again, they have to splort that energy back out.

This is why we stick a cage over the body part we’re imaging. That cage isn’t a magnet, or a way of keeping you still – it’s a receiver coil.

It picks up the RF signal that’s given off by your innards as they relax from the intense work-out we just put them through. How cool is that??

The amount of time we wait between applying the RF pulse and measuring the ‘echo’ from within your body is called the ‘ECHO TIME’, or ‘TE’ (because we didn’t want to call it ET).

(yes, we’re cowards. Sorry.)

We also have ‘REPETITION TIME’ or ‘TR’ – the amount of time we leave between RF pulses! This determines how much longitudinal magnetisation can recover between each pulse.

By manipulating TE and TR, we can alter the contrast (i.e., the blacks and whites) on our image.

Areas of high received signal (hyperintense) are shown as white, while areas of low received signal (hypointense) are shown as black. Different sorts of tissue will have different ratios of Hydrogen-to-other-shit, and different densities of Hydrogen-and-other-shit – ergo, some tissue blasts out all of its stored energy SUPER QUICK. Others give it off slower.

A T1-weighted image has a short TR and TE time.

Fat realigns its longitudinal magnetisation with Big Chungus SUPER QUICK. This means, on a T1-weighted image, it looks hyperintense. However, water realigns its longitudinal magnetisation with Big Chungus slooooowly. Therefore, on a T1-weighted image, fluid looks hypointense! Ya see?

A T2-weighted image has a long TR and TE time.

The precession of protons in fat decays relatively slow, so it will look quite bright on a T2-scan. But water decays slower, and therefore, by the time we take the T2 image, fluids within the body will be giving off comparatively ‘more’ signal than fat – meaning they’ll appear more hyperintense!

If we have a substance with intrinsically long T1 and T2 values, it will appear dark on a T1-weighted image and bright on a T2-weighted image, and the same in reverse. If a substance has a short T1 value and a long T2 value, it will appear relatively ‘bright’ on both T1 and T2-weighted images – i.e., fat and intervertebral discs.

As every tissue has its own distinct T1 and T2 property… we can work out precisely what sort of tissue we’re looking at.

When we build in all our additional sequences, this becomes even clearer! This is why your MRI scan takes sooooo long – we’re running SO MANY sequences, manipulating TR and TE to determine the exact T1 and T2 properties of various tissues within your bod.

There is, however, a problem.

The RF signal given off by each proton doesn’t shoot out in a handy-dandy straight line. Meaning, we have no idea where the signal is coming from within your body.

Enter our lord and saviour:

THE GRADIENT COILS.

(Shim coils are also very important – they maintain field homogeneity across the whole of Big Chungus. While Big Chungus wouldn’t need them in a perfect theoretical scenario… reality ain’t that. Big Chungus’s magnetic field is all wibbly-wobbly, so we use Shims to keep everything smooth! That’s all you need to know about them. BACK TO THE GRADIENTS.)

There are three of them, wrapping around each of the three planes of your body. When these activate, they cause those epicly eerie booming noises, characteristic of a Big Chungus ExperienceTM.

youtube

The Gradient coils are also what causes those weird tingling sensations you get in an MRI machine – which, don’t worry, aren’t permanent! Your nerves just go ‘WOAHG. THASSALOT OF MAGNET SHIT. HM. DON’T LIKE THAT.’ But they’ll calm down again once you’re freed from Big Chungus.

The gradient coils cause constant fluctuations in the magnetic field across all three dimensions. They activate sequentially, isolating one chunk of your body after the next.

As these fluctuations cause variation within the signal received, we can look at how much THAT particular signal, received at THAT particular number of milliseconds after an RF pulse, varied when THAT particular gradient was activated, in comparison to when THAT OTHER gradient was activated.

For every single bit of signal output.

That gives us A WHOLE LOTTA DATA.

^ imagine this, but the cupboard contents is just. data.

Way too much data, in fact, for our puny human brains to comprehend – so obviously, we feed it to an algorithm.

K-space is a funky computational matrix where all this info gets compiled during data acquisition. Once we’ve finished the scan sequence and have all that yummy raw data, it can be mathematically processed to create a final image!

Just like that. Simple, right?

TL;DR

You are full of Hydrogen.

Hydrogen nuclei (protons) are basically tiny magnets

These tiny magnets are orientated completely randomly, with ‘North’ pointing in all directions

We stick billions of these tiny magnets (i.e., you) into a mahoosive magnet (i.e., Big Chungus)

All the tiny magnets flip around to align with the longitudinal magnetic field of Big Chungus

High energy protons = antiparallel Low energy protons = parallel

As you have more low energy protons than high energy protons in your body, the net magnetic vector of your body is longitudinal – just like Big Chungus!

All your protons are spinning and wobbling (precessing) at random rates

We use an RF pulse, tuned to the Resonance Frequency of Hydrogen, to make ‘em precess in phase (wobble at the same time, all pointing in the same direction at once). This creates a Transverse magnetic vector.

This in-phase precession is ‘Magnetic Resonance’

Magnetic Resonance means the protons can absorb energy from the RF pulse

Now there are more high energy protons within your body! They flip antiparallel, and the net longitudinal magnetic vector of your body decreases.

We measure the time it takes for the high-energy protons to release that energy and return to alignment with the net magnetic vector of Big Chungus (Spin-Lattice Relaxation / T1 recovery)

And the time it takes for the precessing-in-phase protons to Quit That Nonsense and all start wobbling in random directions again (Spin-Spin Decay / T2 recovery)

Each tissue within your body has a different composition & density of Hydrogen atoms – which means each tissue within your body has a unique T1 & T2 recovery time

By measuring the signal at different times (TE) and by varying the frequency with which we apply RF pulses (TR), we ‘take pictures’ that show variations in the amount of signal these tissues are giving off. The signal is caught by the large radiofrequency receiver coils we put over you when you enter the machine.

Because the signal given off during recovery/decay blasts out in all directions, we don’t know exactly where it originated within your body.

Gradient coils are arranged across X, Y, and Z axes throughout the gantry of Big Chungus. They cause tiny fluctuations in the magnetic field, in sequential chunks throughout space. This is the booming noise you hear when you’re in the machine.

These tiny fluctuations cause variations in the signal we receive, depending on how close the signal is to the activated gradient coil. All this data is compiled in a magical computational matrix called K-space. A funky algorithm then decodes those variations and couples them up with the strength of the signal to give us 1) How much signal is being blasted out at that particular moment 2) Where exactly that signal comes from within your body, according to the 3D map produced by the gradient coils

It then represents these values with a pretty picture!

Tl;dr tl;dr:

#mri #magnetic resonance imaging #medblr #studyblr #physics #medical imaging #radiography #radiology

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