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sweetblinginrose · 9 months ago

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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: Rival Dungeons and Dragons reader who has a tournament and ends up without clothes. Oops…

word count: 6,6k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, bad language, cumming inside, female masturbation, culilingus.

a/n: hey lol, i wrote this half asleep so idk how it turned out, i'll see if it's any good or not later, so if there is something wrongly translated or that you don't find makes sense, pls let me know, hugs!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

masterlist

part 2 !!

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

The Sith Order.

All the members of the Hellfire Club and your group, The Sith Order, maintained a cordial and mutually respectful relationship, with the exception of the tense rivalry between you and the opposing leader, the insufferable Eddie. You hated him so much, especially now that you had bet your grand dice, which your brother had given you as a gift.

The abandoned cabin loomed like a shadow among the trees of the forest, a forgotten refuge that now housed your group of friends and your imaginary adventures. Inside, the air was filled with a smell of dampness and earth, a constant reminder of nature reclaiming its space. The once cozy and lived-in furniture was now covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs that wove complex patterns in every corner.

The sofa, your throne, was worn out, with upholstery torn in several places, revealing the crumbling yellowed foam at the touch. Dark stains of time adorned the fabric, and every time you moved, a cloud of dust rose like a sigh from the cabin itself. Sitting there, on your stomach, with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, you couldn't help but feel the rough and cold texture of the sofa against your skin, a reminder of your recent defeat in the game.

Around you, the tables wobbled on uneven legs, their surfaces scratched and marked with circles from past glasses. The faded and torn curtains hung sadly from the windows, allowing dim light to filter in and illuminate the dust particles in the air. The floor creaked under the weight of footsteps, and each floorboard seemed to tell a story of abandonment.

In this space, time seemed to have stopped, and every object told the story of a better past now eclipsed by neglect and desolation.

You felt as if a storm was brewing inside you, a mixture of frustration and challenge that consumed you as you sat on the sofa. The defeat in the friendly game was a thorn in your pride, a small battle lost in a war that seemed to extend beyond the game of dragons and dungeons. The rivalry with the Hellfire Club and its leader, Eddie, was the real dragon to be defeated, and every thought of him fueled the flames of your resentment.

Eddie, with his arrogant smile and his ability to bring out the best in his players, had become the antagonist not only in the game, but in your mind and life. You imagined him, with his tousled hair and carefree attitude, as the perfect villain for your campaign, one who seemed to enjoy every time his group came out victorious. The idea that he might consider your defeat as a point in his favor was unbearable.

While your friends continued with the campaign, laughing, stressed, focused, and rolling dice, you immersed yourself in your thoughts, planning your next move. It was not just a matter of winning a game; it was a matter of honor, of proving that your group could overcome any challenge, even the infamous Hellfire Club. Determination began to replace frustration, and although you still felt the bitterness of defeat, there was now a new goal on the horizon: to defeat Eddie and prove that your group was the best in the fantasy game.

But... were you really prepared for tonight?

...

Eddie, with a sly smile and a spark of malice in his eyes, steps forward to greet you in the lair of the Hellfire Club, the basement of the institute, the setting of countless campaigns and now the battlefield of your latest challenge. As the girls from your club gather in the space, filled with detailed maps and meticulously painted character figures, Eddie focuses on you, his most formidable rival.

"Welcome, oh great 'Mialee!'" he exclaims with an exaggeratedly theatrical and ironic tone, making a reference to the elven mage character to underline his mockery. "I hope your spells are as sharp as your tongue this time, and that your strategies are less predictable than your expressions of defeat."

You can feel the gaze of the others on you, some with complicit smiles and others with cautious curiosity. Eddie continues, not missing the opportunity to poke at your pride: "I hope you brought your Dragon Crystal Die, because something tells me you're going to need all the luck you can get."

The lair resonates with the stifled laughter of the club members, and although you know that Eddie's words are part of the rivalry game, you also feel that each joke is a challenge to your skill and determination. With a firm gaze and unwavering resolve, you prepare to show that this battle will be different, that this time, Eddie will be the one left speechless at the end of the night.

"You are living proof that not everything that glitters in a treasure is gold, and in your case, it's not even copper," you say, challenging him as you look him in the eyes. With a confidence that resonates in every word, you confront Eddie, your eyes shining with the reflection of the candles that illuminate the basement. "I hope you haven't forgotten your part of the bet, Eddie," you say with a firm and clear voice that cuts through the tension in the room. "That Orb of Entwined Destinies you so proudly show off will be mine before the moon reaches its zenith."

The Orb of Entwined Destinies was a perfect sphere of dark crystal, with a core that seemed to contain a miniature nebula, ever-changing and slowly rotating. It was more than just an object for Eddie; it was a symbol of his ability to manipulate probabilities and destiny within the game.

The mention of the orb makes Eddie's smile falter for a moment, a crack in his facade of confidence. You know you have hit a sensitive point, reminding him that you are not the only one with something valuable at stake. "Get ready, Eddie," you continue, "because when I'm done with you and the Hellfire Club, that orb will be the trophy of The Sith Order, and your luck will change forever," you spit, leaving the boys dumbfounded, unlike his group of friends, as they were used to this kind of speech.

Lucas, with a carefree smile and a tone bordering on disbelief, tries to lighten the atmosphere that has built up in the room. "Come on, guys, don't you realize? It's just a dumb bet, right? There's no need to turn this into an epic battle or something..." he comments, his voice a thread of sanity in the tapestry of rivalry unfolding before him.

However, his attempt to lighten the mood is quickly quashed by a severe look from both leaders, who in a rare moment of unity gesture to him with a stern gesture and an almost synchronized "Shh!" The seriousness of their bet is not something they are willing to downplay, even with Lucas' playful interjection.

The battle between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club unfolds in a fantasy world woven with the magic of dragons and dungeons, but the tension is as real as the beating hearts of the players. The room, illuminated by the flickering light of the candles, has transformed into an epic battlefield where each roll of the dice resonates like the clash of swords.

The Sith Order bravely faces the challenges posed by Eddie and his Hellfire Club. The dice roll on the table like distant thunder, dictating the fate of heroes and villains alike. You, The Sith Order, with characters ranging from cunning rogues to powerful sorceresses, maneuver through traps and puzzles that Eddie has crafted with malicious skill. The battle intensifies, with each strategic move and each spell cast adding layers to the unfolding narrative. Your characters fight hordes of infernal creatures, cross dark abysses, and decipher ancient codices to unravel the secrets that will lead them to victory.

As the night progresses, a tie seems imminent. The Hellfire Club has countered every attack, every plan, with a precision bordering on the supernatural. But you, with your leading character, are not willing to give up. With a mix of cunning and a bit of luck, you roll the dice for one last masterful play. Silence fills the room as the dice roll, dancing on the edge of the abyss between victory and defeat. Finally, they settle, and the numbers they show are the harbinger of a tide change. Your play has been successful, overcoming the defenses of the Hellfire Club and securing an unexpected triumph.

Eddie, with a look of genuine astonishment, acknowledges the victory of The Sith Order, albeit reluctantly. You, with a smile of satisfaction, accept the Orb of Entwined Destinies, now rightfully yours.

Amidst the euphoria of victory, one of the girls from your group, with a contagious smile and an overflowing energy, suggests an idea that captures everyone's attention. "How about we celebrate with some pizzas? It would be great to relax and enjoy the moment," she says enthusiastically.

The idea is met with a mix of nods and smiles. It is a comfortable and familiar proposition, a perfect way to lower the intensity of the night and simply enjoy each other's company. Everyone, except you and Eddie, seems to agree. The tension of the battle still clings to you, and the idea of sharing a table with Eddie and his club, even in a neutral and friendly environment, is something that you find hard to accept, just like Eddie.

However, aware that rejecting the offer could be seen as poor sportsmanship, both of you reluctantly agree with a gesture of resignation. "Fine, but only because I'm hungry," you murmur, trying to hide your reluctance behind a practical excuse. Eddie nods silently, his serious expression revealing his reluctant agreement.

And so, with victory still fresh and emotions running high, the group sets off to share a meal that promises to be as full of flavor as it is of interesting dynamics.

The night has slipped into a soft twilight when everyone, now relieved of the tension of the game, finds themselves in Eddie's van. The space is filled with laughter and the sound of bottles clinking together. "Cheers!" the group shouts for the sixth time, raising their beers in the air in a toast that has become a ritual.

Eddie's van, with its worn seats, stickers, dirt, and windows displaying the world passing by at high speed, has become a temporary sanctuary of camaraderie. With each new "Cheers!", the barriers between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club seem to dissolve a little more, erased by the alcohol and the shared joy. Or so it seems...

Eddie's van snakes along the road, a lonely path flanked by the silhouette of trees gently swaying under the starry sky. In the front seats, silence between Eddie and you is a marked contrast to the bustle that reigns in the back, where the rest of the group sings enthusiastically game anthems, interspersed with laughter and the sound of opening beers.

You, with crossed legs and a beer can resting in your hands, get lost in contemplation of the nature that unfolds before your eyes. The moonlight bathes the landscape, transforming each tree and bush into dancing shadows that play hide and seek with each turn of the road.

Eddie, with his attention focused on the road, drives with a slowness that seems to respect the shared silence. His profile stands out against the occasional glow of distant street lamps, and although you are together in the cabin, an abyss of unspoken words stretches between you.

"Hey..." Eddie's voice breaks the silence, a word hanging in the air that seems to wait for permission to continue. He does not look away from the road, as if fearing that a moment of distraction could reveal more than he intends.

You turn your head towards him, an eyebrow arched in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It is strange, this attempt at conversation. Outside the game, words between you have been as scarce as leaves in winter. You have never crossed more than strategies and challenges, and now, this attempt at dialogue seems as out of place as a barbarian in a library.

The tension between you is palpable, a taut thread that is woven with each kilometer the van devours. What words will follow that "hey"? Will it be an attempt at a truce, or perhaps the prelude to another challenge? Time seems to stand still as you wait for Eddie to continue, and in that moment, the van is not just a moving vehicle, but a space where two rivals might, just maybe, begin to see each other as something more.

"No... no, nothing. Forget it..." he murmurs softly, not taking his eyes off the road, but now looking more tense, sighing.

You decide not to insist, but this time not averting your gaze from those long locks, but discreetly examining them for some kind of response.

Eddie's van glides to a smooth stop in front of a caravan. As he turns off the engine, Eddie's expression transforms. The seriousness that marked his face during the journey gives way to a genuine smile, an open invitation to continue the night in a space that is as much a part of him as the game they both love. "Come on, guys! The party continues at my place!" he exclaims with enthusiasm, his voice resonating with the promise of more laughter and memories to be created. "We can drink as much as we want, and if anyone's interested, there's weed too. My uncle works nights, so we have the place to ourselves."

Friends and friends respond with a chorus of approval, their stumbling steps and complicit smiles sealing the tacit agreement to extend the celebration. One by one, they enter the caravan, a cozy space illuminated by dim lights and adorned with mementos from trips and caps. A bit messy, but cozy.

You, with a mix of caution and curiosity, are the last to cross the threshold. Your eyes meet Eddie's, and for a moment, the outside world fades away. Eddie closes the door behind you, a simple gesture but loaded with meaning. You stand there, still, remembering the unfinished conversation, the words that Eddie left hanging in the air.

Feeling the weight of the night and the looks charged with unanswered questions, you decide to join the group that has settled in the caravan. You grab a few more beers, your hand brushing against the cold surface of the can, and sit at one end of the narrow sofa from where you can observe the scene. Eddie, on the other hand, seems different tonight. The usual arrogance that characterizes him has given way to an unusual stillness, almost reflective. Was defeat the cause of this change? Or was there something deeper behind his silence?

With each passing minute, glances between you meet like swords in a silent duel, full of questions that neither of you dares to voice aloud. After an hour of this game of looks, you feel the need to escape, if only for a moment, from the intensity of the atmosphere.

"Where is the bathroom?" you ask, your voice strangely formal in the relaxed atmosphere. Eddie points to a small hallway at the back, and you get up, navigating the space filled with laughter and conversations until you reach the bathroom.

Inside, you find yourself facing the mirror, your reflection returning an image of someone who seems to be on the border between two worlds. You wet the back of your neck, not wanting to ruin your makeup, and step out, feeling refreshed but still restless.

As you pass through the narrow exit of the bathroom, you collide with the partially open door of Eddie's room, and curiosity gets the better of you. You discreetly peek inside, your eyes scanning the space that is so intimately his. The room is adorned with posters of rock bands, metal, clothes everywhere, magazines scattered on the floor, and action figures of fantasy heroes, a mix of passions that reveal facets of Eddie that you had never considered. On the bed lies an open diary with scribbles and handwritten notes.

Eddie, with his carefree smile, leans against the doorframe, watching you with curiosity as you try to process the mess. "What are you doing here?" he repeats, his voice gentle but clearly amused by your confused expression. The scent of marijuana is evident, and his eyes, although red, gleam with a mischievous spark. He seems not to mind in the least your presence in his personal sanctuary. You feel like an intruder in an unknown world, every object in the room telling a story that only Eddie knows. However, he, with that calm bordering on indifference, gestures for you to enter. "Come, I'll show you my collection," he says casually, and suddenly, the place transforms. What was chaos before now seems like an art gallery, each hanging T-shirt, each vinyl, and each magazine clipping is a piece of his identity. He guides you through his space, narrating anecdotes of concerts and trips, his voice a thread weaving a tapestry of lived experiences.

The initial embarrassment fades away, replaced by fascination at discovering the depth of Eddie's personality. And as he shares his world with you, the messy room becomes a map of his personal universe, a place that, despite the disorder, now makes sense.

As you survey the room with your gaze, something catches your attention and takes your breath away: a proudly displayed B.C. Rich guitar hanging on the wall.

It is a red and shiny beauty, with its aggressive shapes and air of mystery, a piece that any metal lover would desire. Your heart beats with excitement, not only because of the surprise of finding such a treasure in Eddie's room, but because metal is your passion, one of the many things you have in common with Eddie without even knowing it, a detail he is unaware of.

He notices your excitement and, with a mischievous smile, takes down the guitar and hands it to you. "It's all yours, at least for now," he says with a wink. You hold it in your hands with reverence, feeling the weight of the wood and the coldness of the metal.

With shyness but moved by the emotion, you ask Eddie to play something. He shrugs, regretting the lack of an amplifier, but he is not discouraged. With a mischievous smile, he starts "playing" the guitar silently, mimicking the sounds with his mouth. It's a parody, but there is something about his attitude that invites you to play along.

"Come on, guess which song this is," he challenges you, as he moves his fingers in the air and imaginary sounds of a song fill the room. You concentrate, trying to follow the rhythm and melody that Eddie creates. The silent notes seem to come to life, and suddenly, you recognize it. It's 'Time Is Right' by Whitesnake.

Laughter fills the room as you guess it, and Eddie nods approvingly. "I knew you were one of mine, babe," he says, and in that moment, the guitar is not just an instrument, but a bridge between two souls who share a hidden passion for metal and many other things.

A blush creeps up your cheeks, an unexpected warmth that takes you by surprise. The word "babe" resonates in your ears, a term so casual and yet, loaded with an intimacy you did not expect. It feels as if you are inside the pages of one of those erotic books your mother used to read in secret, where the protagonists, initially at odds, end up wrapped in a story of love and rough sex.

Eddie's gaze has become more intense, his eyes no longer just reflecting the reddish glow of a pot smoker, but also a different glow, deeper, provoked by your presence. There is something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel like you are the only person in the world at that moment, but at the same time, as if he is undressing you.

You find yourself returning his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. There is a connection, an unspoken understanding that seems to transcend words. And while a part of you wants to laugh at the situation, at how absurd it is to feel like a character in a pornographic novel, you cannot deny the electricity in the air, that spicy tension that hangs between the two of you.

Eddie takes a step towards you, his proximity overwhelming, and although he does not say anything more, he doesn't need to. Words are unnecessary when the looks speak for themselves. And in that instant, in that messy room that smells of marijuana and freedom, you understand that sometimes, real life can be as surprising and exciting as the stories hidden within the pages of a book.

After that moment, the room seems smaller, as if the walls had closed in to witness the silence shared between you. You decide to break the tension with a nervous smile and a change of subject. "Hey... what did you want to ask me before, you know, in the van?" you ask, stuttering slightly as you feel Eddie's scent filling your nostrils.

Eddie leaned against the threshold of the door, just inches away, watching your lips adorned with an intense crimson and your lined eyes attentively. "Ah, that..." he wondered, feigning forgetfulness. "I think I wanted to say something about Dungeons and Dragons, right?" he inquired with irony, biting his lip as he laughed and crossed his arms.

None of this compared to the fantasies you had with Eddie. Let's admit it, you had imagined countless similar scenarios, all related to the game and its protagonist, Eddie. You had wished for him to touch you in the same way he caresses his guitar. You wanted to be that fucking guitar.

"I don't think I want to talk about that right now..." you whispered, slowly moving closer to Eddie, who raised an eyebrow and smiled widely, catching your hint.

"Well then, if you don't want to listen to me, why don't you shut me up?" he whispered near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He grabbed your belt, holding your short denim skirt, forcing you to be pressed against him. "I said, why don't you shut me up..."

Eddie played dirty even outside of his character. He wanted you to take the initiative, perhaps to mock you or further feed his ego, but you wouldn't allow that to happen. With confidence, you ran your tongue over your lips and approached his neck, whispering, "I don't plan on silencing you. I enjoy listening to you and narrating each campaign..." This excited him, caressing your shoulder and getting closer, causing your breasts to press against him, eliciting a reaction in his groin. "Then, shut me up. I know you've wanted to since you met me," you whispered, trying to provoke him, with some success.

He responded by pushing you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, placing his thigh between yours and gripping your waist tightly, feeling the coldness of his rings against your bare skin. "What I've wanted since I met you is to fuck you on the Harken map, so that your screams scare away the undead lurking there..." he muttered with a deep voice, softly kissing your collarbone, causing a sigh to escape your lips. With captivating slowness, Eddie guides his lips to yours, each movement deliberate and filled with anticipation. When they finally meet, the kiss is like an explosion of fire, burning and passionate. His lips sink into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless, and his tongue boldly slides in to explore every corner of your mouth from the very first moment.

As your lips entwine in a sensual dance, his hands find your breasts with a firmness that surprises and excites you at the same time. The pressure of his hands cupping your breasts sends a wave of pleasure through your body, making you involuntarily shudder at the intense and unfamiliar sensation. You never expected this reaction, but you find yourself completely captivated by the desire that Eddie awakens in you, leaving you craving more of his passionate touch.

Eddie suddenly stops, his fingers noticing the absence of the bra he expected to find. A mischievous spark shines in his eyes as he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and desire. With a naughty smile on his lips, he whispers in your ear in a seductive tone, "Wow, looks like the girl comes with nothing...," murmuring with a hoarse voice, his warm breath sending shivers down your naked skin. His comment, though bold, is imbued with an irresistible sensuality that makes you blush and feel even more drawn to him. It feels like you're in a scene taken straight from one of those forbidden novels your mother used to find in the library, but this time, you're the protagonist, enveloped in the heat of shared desire with Eddie.

With expert dexterity, Eddie deepens the kiss, intensifying each brush of his lips against yours. As his tongue explores yours with unrestrained passion, his thigh slides and exerts pressure between yours, finding its way under your denim skirt, lifting it almost completely, hitting just that sensitive spot that makes your whole body react instantly.

"Mhmmm..." an involuntary moan escapes your lips as you feel the perfectly placed pressure of his thigh against you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You feel the need to ride that leg. You were very wet at that moment, so the touch was making you even wetter.

He moves it with precision between yours, creating a delicious friction that awakens sensations that make you gasp against his lips. Each movement is calculated, designed to provoke maximum pleasure, as his thigh finds that sensitive spot on your body, sending waves of excitement through you.

"You've got me so hard..." with a throaty whisper, he makes you aware of the effect you have on him, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine. His warm breath against your lips only increases the intensity of the moment. You feel your heart pounding hard as you let yourself be carried away by the passion swirling around you. Then, with seductive skill, he leans slightly down, his strong hands gripping the bottom of your thighs to open you up and wrap around his waist. The change in position allows his bulge to press directly against your underwear, which is exposed by the previous lifting of your skirt. A wave of desire surges through your being as you feel his prominence brushing directly against your sensitive and swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure that seem to electrify every fiber of your being.

The movements of his hips are precise and deliberate, each delicious brush torturous while engulfing you deeper into the abyss of pleasure. The sounds of your ragged breathing blend with the seductive whispers and soft moans escaping between hot kisses. You are completely at the mercy of the passion Eddie unleashes in you, lost in the whirlwind of overwhelming sensations that threaten to consume you completely.

The barely contained moan escapes your lips between kisses as you feel Eddie's gentle hip movement, a movement that sends you soaring to the heights of pleasure. Still with your thighs tightly wrapped around his hips, you give in to a wild and passionate kiss, with an intensity that defies any limit.

The kiss becomes a whirlwind of unabated passion, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you let yourself be carried away by the overwhelming sensations. Amidst the heat of the moment, you feel Eddie release one of your legs, changing the dynamics of the position and making you feel his bulge even more. Now, in this new position, the contact with his clothed cock is even more evident, causing you to instinctively arch your hips towards him, seeking more contact, more friction. You feel his hands grip your buttocks firmly, aggressively pressing you against his jeans, as if he is eager to feel you even closer.

The brushes and hip movements become increasingly intense, a symphony of pleasure that seems to have no end. You are completely immersed in the moment.

"Mmhm... fuck..." Between moans escaping your lips, accompanied by the sensual movements of your hips, Eddie suddenly stops, only to turn off the bedroom light and then guides you, still with your body on top of his, to his disheveled bed. He places you on your back on the tousled sheets, and positions himself above you, burning desire reflected in his gaze as he begins to explore your neck with hot kisses and licks. Each touch of his tongue against your skin awakens an electric sensation that makes you tremble with pleasure. His expert hands play with your nipples from inside your top, squeezing and teasing them while his thighs continue to exert delicious pressure on your intimate area, making you gasp with each movement, holding onto his back.

Slowly, your rival moves down your body with controlled impatience, licking and kissing your abdomen eagerly before quickly lifting your top and leaving you exposed before him. His lips find your breasts, and he kisses and licks them with devotion, as if they are the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. His long hair sometimes gets tangled in his face, but when you start gently tugging on it for pleasure, he moves away, leaving behind an incredibly enticing scene that makes you arch your hips forward instinctively.

While Eddie continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his hands begin to explore above your underwear with his ring finger, stroking gently from top to bottom. "Do you like it like this?" he asks between kisses and licks, asking you with a husky voice if you're enjoying yourself, establishing an intimate and desire-filled dialogue that only increases the sexual tension between you. "Or is it better like this?" he increases the speed of his touch.

Your silence prompts Eddie to grab your chin firmly, his fingers exerting a dominant and sexual pressure as he forces you to look into his eyes. When you finally respond to his question with an intense gaze, he slowly releases you, going back down to give attention to your body. His lips find your panties, and he kisses and licks them eagerly, soaking them with his saliva mixed with your own excited wetness.

With precise and deliberate movements, Eddie slowly pulls down your panties, placing soft kisses on your inner thigh as he slides them down your legs. Once he has removed your panties, his eyes meet your exposed, naked, and wet pussy, and he can't help but feel his cock throbbing with an unprecedented intensity, eager to satisfy the burning desire between them. You feel incredibly exposed under his heated gaze, but Eddie sees you as a work of art, a sight that excites him to the limit. Without wasting time, Eddie gives you a generic lick to your wet pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers to access your exposed clit directly. An overwhelming moan escapes your lips at the wave of pleasure that courses through your body, but Eddie quickly covers your mouth, whispering that you can't moan to avoid being heard in the common area where the others are.

With a mischievous smile on his face, Eddie realizes that the loud music has concealed any sound that would have revealed their activities in the bedroom. With your mouth still covered, he delves into the task with renewed eagerness, licking and sucking your clit with an intensity that makes your body arch in response. Each suck and each lick sends waves of pleasure through you, taking you to the edge of ecstasy over and over again. Your hips move instinctively in response to the overwhelming pleasure, but Eddie firmly controls them, maintaining a rhythm that takes you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. With an expert hand, he begins caressing your abdomen, slowly descending until reaching your clit, parting his mouth for a moment to touch it with his fingers before inserting two of them without any prior preparation.

The sudden stimulus causes your eyes to roll back, and your thighs tighten with force from the pleasure that overwhelms you, arching your back and moving your hips towards the direction of the long-haired person. In a short time, Eddie goes back to action, losing himself between your thighs as he continues moving his fingers with unwavering determination.

He continues like this for a few minutes, not stopping for a moment, until you feel that you're about to reach climax. You grab his hair with incredible strength, almost burying your fingers in its roots, urging him to continue, feeling like you're about to burst in his mouth. But just as you're on the edge of orgasm, he pulls away from you, leaving a thread of saliva mixed with your wetness as a separation between his mouth and your pussy, leaving you in a state of uncontrollable anticipation and desire.

Eddie, eager to satisfy his burning desire, hastily fumbles with his zipper and unleashes his erect cock, ready for action. Eddie's cock, although of average size, has a peculiarity that sets it apart: a curved shape that gives it a unique and distinctive appearance. Its thickness is notable, and the veins that run along its length add texture to its look. The skin that covers it has a pink tone, with a reddish hue indicating the excitement that engulfs it. A slightly glistening liquid adorns its tip. It is an image that reflects virility and desire, a promise of intense pleasure about to be unleashed.

"How does this look, huh?" he moves it, noticeably sensitive, gently rubbing it against your clit, giving you a mischievous look as if he's playing a game with you. Without warning, after lightly masturbating it, he quickly and decisively inserts it into you, completely surprising you and leaving you breathless. "Mhmmm..." he sighs deeply, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, arching his head backward. From the very first second, he begins to thrust into you with a dizzying rhythm, penetrating you deeply over and over again. You are overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure that engulfs you, unable to articulate a single word as you completely surrender to the wild thrusts of the guy. Each thrust hits your insides with overpowering force, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Despite the initial discomfort from the lack of preparation, you find yourself immersed in a whirlwind of sensations that make you lose track of time and space.

You writhe under him, unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips as you completely surrender to the frenzied pleasure that consumes you. Although it hurts, you can't help but enjoy every thrust, every touch of his skin against yours ignites a burning fire inside you.

He grabs you by the neck with a firm but dominant hand, stopping any sound that could escape your lips. His warm breath brushes against your ear as he whispers with a husky and authoritative voice, "Shut up." The words, loaded with desire and determination, send a shiver down your spine, leaving you breathless and obedient to his command. You are completely surrendered to him, unable to do anything but obey his orders as you let yourself be carried away by the frenzied passion that burns between you. The orgasm that you had almost experienced less than a minute ago begins to resonate through your body again, but the intensity of Eddie's thrusts makes you feel like you're on the verge of a great climax. You are completely overwhelmed by the avalanche of sensations that envelop you, unable to resist the tide of pleasure that drags you into an endless abyss of ecstasy. Your increasingly intense and uncontrolled moans blend with the background music, creating a symphony of pleasure and ecstasy that fills the room. Eddie, releasing his hand from your neck, begins to hit your thigh and butt with a mixture of desire and unbridled passion. As he continues to thrust into you with force, his lascivious words fill the air, whispering in your ear with a deep and seductive voice.

He tells you how much he has wanted to fuck that pussy of yours, expressing his most intimate desires with an exciting crudeness that makes you shiver with pleasure. He calls you a slut with a tone of desire and adoration, celebrating your sexuality and the way you grip his cock with every thrust. Those words, charged with lust and desire, only increase the intensity of the moment, pushing you closer to climax with each word that comes out of his mouth.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, every thrust of Eddie sending waves of pleasure through your body. He perceives it too, thanks to the way your pussy grips his cock, and he lets out a guttural grunt of satisfaction. You're on the edge of the abyss, about to let the ecstasy completely envelop you, while Eddie's lascivious moans and words push you towards the most glorious climax you've ever experienced

You feel the ecstasy completely enveloping you, a overwhelming wave of pleasure that shakes you to your core. Your walls contract tightly around Eddie's cock, squeezing with an intensity that makes him moan with pleasure. "Damn, you're so tight..."

Your body trembles uncontrollably, your eyes rolling back in your head as a guttural groan escapes from your lips, louder and more heartbreaking than ever before.

However, before you can fully recover from your orgasm, Eddie aggressively grabs you by the throat again, his expression a wild mix of concentration, excitement, and a hint of anger. With notable abruptness, he continues fucking with a renewed ferocity, as if taking revenge for something, but this time he has absolute control. The sensation of being taken with such force awakens a wild fire inside you, a overflowing passion that mixes with pain and pleasure in a symphony of indescribable sensations. You are completely immersed in the erotic game between you and Eddie, each thrust taking you further into the abyss of shared desire.

Thegame is now tied, each one taking the lead at different moments. You feel Eddie moaning with an unusual intensity, sensing that he's about to reach climax. You want to warn him not to come inside, but your throat is blocked by Eddie's firm hand, keeping you from articulating any words. A slight shiver runs through his body when he perceives your attempt to communicate your desire, but it's too late.

With a few final shaky thrusts, Eddie gives in to the avalanche of pleasure, releasing his hot and trembling liquid inside you. You accept his release without reserve, watching Eddie's expression as he does so. His face shows an unusual vulnerability, with arched eyebrows and a lost look somewhere in the room. His slightly parted lips release his moans of pleasure, and his hands grip your hips tightly, as if clinging to you for support.

After Eddie releases his liquid inside you, he slowly retreats and lies down by your side. Both of you remain staring at the ceiling, and suddenly, a nervous and uncontrollable laughter overwhelms you. Eddie looks at you strangely and asks what's happening. Between laughs, you respond that you just imagined that all of this was one of his campaigns, a kind of joke or experiment designed to test your limits and reactions. The surprise on Eddie's face turns into a knowing smile when he realizes that you have disarmed the tension of the moment with your humorous comment. Both of you give in to laughter, releasing the accumulated tension and sharing a moment of complicity after the unrestrained passion you just experienced together. It's an unexpected and light ending to an intimate and passionate encounter.

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ninthskzmember · 11 months ago

Text

Sharing is Caring. Part III

Lee Know x reader x Bang Chan (Pt 1.) (Pt 2.)

warnings: smut. smut. smut. and more smut. petnames too. and unprotected sex. word count: 3,2k (I got carried away) an: and with that... the Sharing is Caring season comes to an end... Goodnight. (please don't forget to reblog and like <3). Not proofread

Requests are open! :)

You were so used to your boyfriend's lips that kissing Bang Chan was a whole new experience.

His big lips, soft as feathers, made you feel like you were in heaven. His gentle tongue was playing with yours as his hands threw you further against him and his growing bludge.

"You sure about this?" He whispered in your ear, making you get goosebumps.

"Of course I am." You tried to devour his lips again, but he pulled away abit.t

"Once we're into it, I don't think I'll be able to stop, doll face."

"It's okay, Chris; my partner is Minho, if you don't recall."

"I'm not Minho," an almost scary grin came out of his face.

"Hyung, she said she didn't think she could handle Kim Seungmin," Minho informed funny from the couch in the room.

"Oh, so, Kim Seungmin?" He looked at you.

"She said that, and she chose him at first."

"Owh," he said, making a sarcastic face. "Was I not your first choice?"

"She squirted for the first time ever when I told her about you fucking her deep inside." Your boyfriend was setting up the fire between the two of you.

"Baby girl squirted from the thought of me inside her?" Your breath started to be uneven. He barely even touched you, and you could already feel your panties soaked.

"Lee Minho, I told you. You can't interfere." You looked at your boyfriend sprawled on the couch with his gray sweats and white shirt.

"Oh?" Chan looked surprised. "So it's just you and me?"

"Baby, what did you tell him?"

"I think I said something about a threesome." He looked everywhere but at you.

"So, Oppa, great news to you: We're not having a threesome. Minho just thinks he'd like to see me getting fucked," you smiled at the older one. "So it's just your dick and my pussy… and our mouths too."

"And your hands," your boyfriend added.

"Yeah, and our hands." You nodded.

"No, not hands." Chan took your wrists above your head and pinned you up against the wall.

"Say please?" You joked, but you were actually flustered by his sudden movements.

Chan started working on your neck. Again, it felt different, but you didn't dislike it. It was like changing the routine a bit. Maybe you'd do this with a few other members.

"Chris," you let out a moan the moment you felt his hard cock touch your drenched core.

"You like it?" He let out a cocky smile while looking at you for a few seconds. "I certainly like the hickeys your boyfriend left on your neck. I might leave my own."

"Yes, please," you said, moving your hips, looking for some friction and pleasure.

He kissed you again. A wet, messy kiss. Not like the ones before, this one actually made you realize what you were about to do.

You looked at your boyfriend, scanning the scene carefully. Yes, he had lust in his eyes, but you could also perceive a light amount of jealousy.

"Baby," you called Minho. "You okay?"

"Yes love. Keep on," he said, moving a bit, still giving his full attention to the moment in front of him.

Your body wanted to keep going, but your mind was still wrapped around Lee Know's sight.

You started to get a little clumsy with your movements, and Chris looked at you for a brief second, seeing you eyeing your partner. He turned around and looked at him too, calling him with his eyes as he let go of your wrists.

With no words spoken, Minho stood up and walked towards you both.

"Kitten, it's okay, really." He caressed your shoulder. "I was the one who brought this up; I'm okay with it. I know what's going on in your mind."

"I just… feel guilty," you said as Chan moved a bit away from you.

"Baby, don't be." He took you by your waist and wrapped you in a wild embrace. "If you don't want to do it, it's okay; I'm sure Hyung will understand."

Chan just nodded in silence—kind of uncomfortable, actually—and it's understandable since his dick was fucking strangling in his clothes.

"I want to," you nodded along, looking at both men in front of you. "I just want you by my side," you directed your world towards Minho, and he agreed, letting out a sassy smile.

Chan took position again right in front of you and kissed your cheek softly, making a road down towards your neck and then up again to end kissing your lips.

Minho moved you away from the wall, placing himself behind you and reassuring you by placing kisses on your neck.

"You like how Hyung is kissing you?" He whispered in your ear, "Think about how you'd feel when he eats you up."

By inertia, your butt pressed against his—of course, already hard—dick, and you heard him chuckle. “You said I'd have to beg, yet here you are, pressing your ass on my cock, kitten."

You moaned quietly in between kissing Chris, whom you took by his big biceps and pushed to the mattress.

You climbed onto him, your legs at each side of his hips, and took a seat right on top of his now semi-hard penis. You smiled at the older man and bitted your own lower lip a bit, taking an imaginary picture of him in that position, in that moment.

"You can guide me, sweetheart. I love giving pleasure," you whispered close to Chan's face. "Tell me what you like; tell me what you don't." You moved your hips a bit, experimentally, and he let out a small groan.

Minho pleased himself behind you again, standing. He took your hips and pressed you downward while you moved just a little bit faster, making your arousal stain not only your leggins but also Chan's pants.

"Fuck" the three of you cursed at the same time.

"It's so hot when you do that," said your boyfriend from behind, where it was easy to see the wet patch on his hyung's pants.

"When I do what, baby?" You let out the sluttiest voice you ever heard from yourself, looking at him with your fuck-me eyes.

"You just" he took a breath "You just stained Hyung's pants."

Chris looked down, and his grip became tighter on your thighs.

"That's it" Chan groaned and sat up, taking you by your back to lay you on the mattress. "You go there and sit," Chris demanded to Minho, who did what was told.

"You're so wet, and I barely touched you, baby girl." He pecked you and practically ripped your shirt out, kissing your chest above your bra and your belly.

Started playing with the elastic on your leggings, kissing and biting right above it.

"Chris, please," you moaned.

"Look at you, being all disrespectful just because you're horny," he smiled up at you. "We're not that close for you to call me Chris," he slapped your thigh, and another groan left your body. "Try again."

"Chan, please, I need you." You let out a whine, and he chuckled.

"Nicer, but still not what I'm looking for," he said, pressing a soft kiss on your clothed core.

"Please, please, please." You tried to keep his face in your pussy with your thighs, to which he laughed and stopped you with his hands.

"What do you want, sweety?"

"I want you to touch me, taste me, fuck me," you whined again, moving your hips in the air. He pushed you against the mattress.

"That sounds amazing," he said, taking the elastic of your leggings and pulling them off with a smirk.

You were left with just your black lingerie, and you swore Chris could make his own lip bleed from the force he was biting it with.

"Like what you see?" You smiled. "Wish you could have me anytime you want, huh?" You pressed your arms together, squishing your boobs, and he was practically drooling and nodding.

"Too bad" Your boyfriend made a silly remark, and you smiled at his voice but didn't look at him.

You took the older boy from his shirt, pulling him closer into a kiss. He took it off, and you could feel yourself getting breathless at the view of this man from where you were. You clenched around nothing, watching him flex his muscles to make the movement.

Your legs are wrapped around his waist now, making him closer, and then turning him around. Wasting no time, you took his stained pants off.

All that he was wearing now were his black boxers, and damn did he look hot in those. His dickens were twitching under your hand, and the fabric was practically screaming to be relased.

You got on your knees, taking the last piece of clothing from his body, leaving Chris with nothing but his lust on the bed.

It was the prettiest dick you've ever seen—after Minho's, obviously. His tip was leaking just for you to taste, and you just did what you've not ironically done way too many times before.

The second you tasted his fluid and sucked on him, a loud moan was heard in the room. You made eye contact with the culprit with his dick still in your mouth, and he took you by your hair and nodded.

You sucked his dick like it was the most delicious thing you've ever tasted, and he was frightened not to cum so soon.

"Fuck, y/n," he breathed loudly. "I don't want to cum yet."

"Cum, babe, I want to fully taste you," you answered while still bombing his member. "Your dick is so pretty."

You took him as deep as you could in your throat, gagging around him to trigger his orgasm.

"Oh my fucking god" he sounded desesperated. All the moaning coming from his mouth only made you still clench around air, rubbing your clitoral against your heel. "I'm coming, I'm coming, babe, I'm coming." He whined again and held your head against him as he relaxed his cum inside your throat, letting you suck and taste every little drop.

Once you felt his grip loose, you smiled and looked at him with a smile on your face.

"What?" he asked, smiling the same way you did.

You didn't even say a word; you just took out your tongue and showed almost all his cum there. You could literally see how his eyes sparkled and then got dark the second you swallowed it all without even a flinch.

"Come here," he ordered, and you laid on the bed. He took out your bra as if he had a master in that.

He knew you had sensitive boobs; he talked about it with Minho when this topic came up. His member told him how much you love getting your nipples sucked and played with, so that's just what Chan did. He was sucking so sweetly and gently on your boobs that you forgot about everything.

Again, you wrapped your legs around him and brought him closer. His now flacid dick is rubbing against your completely wet pussy.

"Oh, god," you heard him moan in your boob, making you let out a cheeky smile. "Mate, is she always so hot?" the man asked your boyfriend, and after a while, you looked at him.

Minho was all messed up. In his eyes was pure lust, completely dark. He was all sweaty, and his hair was glued to his forehead. His shirt lifted just enough to see a wet spot in his gray pants.

"Babe, did you cum in your pants?" You smiled while looking at his crotch.

"In my defense, I was pretty good until you started deepthroating him," he excused himself, and you laughed out loud.

"Imagine when he's got me in all fours and fucking me deep inside from behind." You winked at your man but, actually, turned both of them on again.

"You liked that thought, huh?" Chan captured your attention again. "You clenched, baby girl. I felt it," he said, and he started kissing you again after a while.

He reached down with one hand and started circling your clit delicately.

"Oh shit," you groaned at the touch.

"You like that?"

"Yes," you breathed out.

"You like that, huh?" he smiled at you knowingly.

"Yes, daddy," you quoted Felix, and a loud scream from Minho took place in the room.

"Un-fucking-believable" He gasped, "She doesn't even call me daddy."

"Because, mate, that's me." As soon as he said the last word, not only did he slide one finger inside you, but two.

You were obviously wet enough to take it, but the loud moan you let out left both men in silence. "Chan, please." You started pleading again.

"Wrong again, princess," he said, taking one out.

"Daddy, please," you said, moving your hips towards him and your head against the pillow.

"That's more like it," he smiled, taking off your pants with his other hand. He reached down and started eating you up.

If his kisses on your upper lips made you feel like you were in heaven, the feeling of him eating your pussy sent you through heaven, hell, space, and beyond.

You weren't able to hear, see, or feel anything else than the pleasure he was making you feel right now. In your ears, there was only white noise, and you couldn't bring yourself to anything.

He was eating your cunt like it was his last meal, while his nose kept rubbing your clit. The next thing you know, you're shaking with his face in between your thighs. He introduced two fingers again, touching your sweet spot from inside, and there it was, squirting all over the bed once again.

"Oh my fucking god, babe," Minho said in a high-pitched voice.

"That's so fucking hot, y/n," he said as he kept fingering you through the last of your high.

Once it was done, you just laid there, catching your breath for a minute.

"You're perfect" Chan said by your side, moving the hairs that were glued to your face, "You're so yummy, I'd eat you anytime."

"Too bad," Lee Know repeated, and you laughed again while looking at him.

"What is your dick doing out?" You asked him, raising your eyebrow, "That was not part of the deal." You weakly got up and walked towards him.

"I just, babe, I…"

"No, Lee Minho," you said, sitting right on top of him, moving your hips delicately since you were still sensitive from the orgasm. "You're in so much trouble now," you said, rubbing your lips together.

Chris was looking at both of you and analyzing whether watching instead of participating was as interesting for him as it was for Minho.

"How many times did you come?" you asked.

"Two," he answered, "once in my pants, and then when you got all high-pitchy and moany."

"And that's not fair for me or for your Hyung; you know that, right?" You asked and started kissing his neck, at the exact points where you know it drives him insane.

"You're making me hard again," he said, avoiding the question.

"I know that," you answered quickly.

"I'm not begging."

"Then don't" You kissed him passionately as he grabbed your waist and guided you through your ride.

While your man was busy with your kiss, you called Christopher with your hand to walk over to you both.

You took Minho's dick and placed it in your entrance, almost sliding in, and moved like that a few times. He looked at you with the most deadly look he ever gave you.

"Oh, I'm sorry, babe," you smiled and slided him inside you, but just the tip and then got him out again.

"Don't make me pin you down, kitten," he said, grabbing his own dick and aligning it with your pussycat.

You smiled and got up, taking Lee's wrists on top of his head and leaning over to him, letting Chris have you all for himself.

He did not doubt himself once and slid himself inside you.

A brand new feeling, a brand new stretch.

"Oh my god, you're huge," you moaned as your boy's friend Dick was getting inside.

"I've been told," he said, a bit out of breath. "You're so tight."

"I've been told," you said this time.

"Wait a minute; she stretches really well."

"You shut your mouth," you said between teeth. "Move; you feel so nice inside, Daddy."

Minho flexed his muscles, looking you straight in the eye. You really never called him that.

"Oh god, babe, he's making me feel so good," you said while Chris started pounding you from behind, making your boobs jump in front of Minho's face.

You started letting out every single sound you wanted to make, knowing that your boyfriend gets turned on by them.

Soon, between nasty words, moans, and a bit of 'accidentally' rubbing Minho's dick with your legs, you could hear him moaning with you two.

"Chris, daddy, I'm close. Don't stop," you whined, and he kept doing exactly what he was doing.

"Jagi," your boyfriend called you, and you hardly opened your eyes to look at him with a pleading look.

"I can't, Lee Know, he's making me feel so good; it's going to take way more from you to let him go."

Chris slid his hand on your throat and pressed just enough for you to feel an electric wave through your body. And you did the same thing to the one who was sitting, hearing a groan from him and feeling a buzz in the palm of your hand.

"We need to be even," you said out of nowhere. "Just let me cum once more, babe." It was your sub-side talking shit; you were so used to being under Minho's control that you were asking permission to come again.

"I'm going to cum," Chan said, moaning, breathless.

"Come inside," you said, pulling your hips backwards.

"Y/n, I don't think… I…" he stuttered.

"Please, daddy, please, please." You kept repeating it and pulling your hips

"Fuck," he let out a big groan, and you felt it. You felt his warm cum fill you up, and you felt how it was so much more than what you swallowed.

"Oh my god." You rolled your eyes. "A bit more, please," you whined, and he kept moving inside you and touching your clit just to make you explode again.

You slid Chan's cock out of you just to penetrate yourself with your boyfriend, making him feel how hard and tight you were clenching.

"Do it, babe, please," you whined at your boyfriend this time, and he started thrusting at you, touching your g-spot repeatedly.

"I love you so much," he said in your ear, and it was enough for you to let out all that liquid again, squirting around your boyfriend, who just kept going in and out, looking for his own release.

It only took a few seconds because your twitches were so hard and stimulative.

"I love you too," you said while he let out his cum inside you too.

The three of you lay in bed in silence for a few minutes.

"So… Kim Seungmin?" You said it quietly.

"You're NOT calling him daddy," your boyfriend said quickly, and Chan let out a laugh.

This is definitely not the last time this is going to happen.

Bonus

taglist: @httpswilloww

#skz #skz imagines #stray kids #lee know #stray kids x reader #skz smut #bang chan #lee know imagines #minho x y/n #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bangchan smut #bang chan smut #bangchan x reader #minho x reader

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leftoverpages · 6 months ago

Text

Underneath the Steel

Pairing 𓅪 Benjicot "Davos" Blackwood × Targaryen!reader

Tags 𓅪 angst, brief character death mention, sleep paralysis, fluff at the end, reader uses she/her but no physical description, romance if you squint really hard

Notes: request by @ithilwen-aranel !

I need a fic where reader is a Targ princess and dragon rider and a known fierce warrior, like Visenya reincarnated level warrior but nobody knows that she has sleep paralysis. So she's marching with House Blackwood to Harrenhal and it's nighttime so they're in tents and her and Benji's tents happen to be next to each other. So that night she gets an attack/episode and he hears her muffled cries and sobs and he helps her get out of it and he finally sees the girl inside the warrior and he comforts her by showing that he has vulnerable sides too and stuff. (sorry if it's messy and chaotic haha but l WANT MORE FLUFF)

Wordcount 𓅪 1.4k

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

The cold wind swept through the camp as the soldiers of House Blackwood settled for the night. Tents dotted the landscape, bathed in the pale light of a crescent moon. Among them was a tent marked with the sigil of House Targaryen, on it, a dragon standing tall.

Inside, the Targaryen princess sharpened her blade, her mind a battlefield of its own. Known to many as a fierce warrior, she was often compared to Visenya Targaryen, a legend reborn. She had led her dragon into countless battles, her swordsmanship and ferocity unmatched.

But, as night fell and the camp quieted, a darker struggle loomed. Under her strong exterior, she had a secret as old as her lineage, a shadow that haunted her dreams-sleep paralysis. She had fought countless ennemies on the battlefield, but none of them were as terrifying as the darkness that gripped her in the night.

Benjicot Blackwood, the young lord of House Blackwood, laid restless in his tent. The march to Harrenhal stayed heavily on his mind. His thoughts drifted to the princess, their tents stood side by side. Her reputation preceded her, but Benjicot had seen glimpses of something beyond the warrior facade—a quiet sadness in her eyes.

As he drifted to sleep, muffled cries were heard in the night. Benjicot sat up, his senses sharp. The sounds were coming from the Targaryen tent. Frowning, he woke, moving silently.

Inside her tent, the princess was trapped. Her body laid motionless, her eyes open, her breath uneven. Shadows stood at the corner of her eyes, mocking her. She struggled, her heart pounding in her chest. The nightmare always started the same: she was in a big and empty field. Her dragon was nowhere to be seen. Panic rose up inside her as she realized she was alone.

Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet began to tremble. Shadowy figures emerged, their forms indistinct, as if they were made of smoke.

"You're weak," they hissed, with their chilling voices. "You will fail them all."

She tried to take her sword, but her body refused to move. Her limbs were turned to stone. She was desperate as the figures approached her, their cold fingers brushing against her skin, leaving trails of ice behind.

Her breath became faster. She could feel her heart pounding. The shadows wrapped around her, tightening their grip, almost suffocating her. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but she was unable to move, a silent plea for help left her lips.

As the nightmare continued, the shadows began to transform into faces she knew - friends, comrades, and family members, with twisted expressions.

"Why didn't you save us?" they cried, their voices full with anger. "You are supposed to be our protector!"

The guilt crashed over her as she could feel herself slipping, the line between reality and nightmare blurring. The faces closer, their features more distinct, their voices louder.

"Help," she managed to whisper, the word barely audible.

Benjicot pushed aside the tent flap. He saw her, tears streaming down her face.

Instinctively, he knelt beside her, his voice soft yet urgent.

"Princess, can you hear me?"

She did not respond, her eyes locked in a terror. Benjicot hesitated, then gently touched her shoulder. "Princess? You need to wake up."

The warmth of his touch broke through her. Slowly, she regained control, her body shaking as the paralysis faded. Her sobs flowing freely now.

She looked at Benjicot, her fierce demeanor shattered. "You saw..." He nodded, his eyes filled with understanding.

"Aye, I saw. And I see you, the real you. It's all right."

She wiped her tears, frustrated. "I hate this. I'm supposed to be strong."

Benjicot sat beside her. "Strength isn't just about physical strength or riding a dragon. It's about facing your fears." She looked at him.

"Do you ever feel like you're drowning in expectations?"

A bitter smile touched his lips. "Every day. The burden of leadership, the pressure to protect my people... it's overwhelming."

He reached out, encircling her in a gentle embrace. He held her close, offering his presence. "But in moments like these, you have to remember that we are not alone. We have allies who will stand by us, who will fight beside us."

She let herself breathe deeply, the tension slowly fading away. A reminder that vulnerability did not equate to weakness.

Their eyes met, a silent understanding between them. In that moment, they were no longer just a Targaryen and a Blackwood. They were two souls, each bearing their own scars. She took a deep breath as she sat there.

"I've fought battles, slain men twice my size, and ridden my dragon through storms of arrows. But this... this is different."

Benjicot nodded, his gaze steady. "It's the battles we fight within ourselves that are often the hardest. But you don't have to fight them alone."

She hesitated, vulnerability warring with her warrior's pride. "It's... it's been like this since I was a child. The shadows, the paralysis. I've learned to mask it, to be strong. But some nights..."

"Some nights, it's too much," Benjicot finished for her, his voice gentle. She nodded, grateful for his understanding.

"Yes. I fear that one day it might break me."

He squeezed her gently, his embrace a shield against her fears. He reached out, his hand covering hers.

"It won't. Because you're stronger than you know. And because you have allies who will stand by you, even in the darkest of nights."

She squeezed his hand, finding solace in his words. "Thank you, Benjicot."

"Always," he replied, his smile reassuring. "And if you ever need someone to sit with you through the night, you know where to find me."

"Thank you," she whispered.

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. She looked up at him, a silent plea in her eyes.

"Will you... stay with me?" Benjicot nodded without hesitation.

"Of course."

He settled beside her, his presence a calming presence. She lied closer to him, finding comfort in the rhythm of his breathing. In the safety of his arms, she finally allowed herself to drift into slumber, the weight of her fears lifted for the night.

As the first rays of sunlight broke over the camp, the princess took a deep breath, the remnants of her nightmare dissipating with the morning mist. Benjicot remained by her side, his presence a steady anchor.

As the camp stirred awake with the dawn, they lay intertwined. They were warriors, yes, but in each other's embrace, they found a refuge from the shadows that haunted them both.

As they walked under the dawn's embrace, they stood united, ready to conquer both the battles ahead and the shadows within.

#angst #asoiaf #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #benjicot blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood #davos blackwood #fluff

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igotanidea · 2 years ago

Text

My eleven : Jason Todd x fem!reader

Request: Can you do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader doesn’t think she has a chance with Jason because “he’s a 10” and the reader has low self esteem.

Warining: all the typical that comes with Jay: swearing, teasing, bickering, slight innuendo in one sentence

***

„How the hell did I even get here?!”

“Are you having fun, Y/N?!” Steph yelled to her from the other side of the dancefloor. It was Brown’s birthday party and of course all of her friends and family were invited. Poor, shy, introverted Y/N being no exception to that even though she was trying her hardest to come up with any pathetic excuse that ever existed.

But Stephanie was not known for letting people off easily.

And that is how Y/N got here.

Here being the middle of the crowded club, filled with people, most of whom she did not even know. It was like suffocating, but she just put a thumb up and smiled at Stephanie, cause was else was left to do? She was practically dragged here to have fun and enjoy Friday night, damn it.

And more to that, she was forced to wear a dress.

A dress for God’s sake! Most of the time she felt insecure in pants and simple T-shirt so getting dolled up was just too much. Very much too much.

She had to get out. To find just a little bit of peace and air to breathe, being it in the bathroom or outside or wherever else far from the people.

It took a lot of effort to squeeze between the moving bodies, unnoticed by any of the family members, but Y/N was fast, flexible and extremely sneaky when situation called for so she made it out to the door safely, nearly tripping over her own feet at the very end.

“Damn it!” she hissed exhaling deeply and letting all the frustration out.

“I take it you don’t like it here either?” a deep male voice, seasoned with mockery came from the right side and at first she almost expired, but quickly realized it was just Jason.

Just Jason.

Not that she was having a massive crush on him, for months now.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack you idiot!?”

“Is it working?” he raised an eyebrow at her puffing on the cigarette.

Oh damn it’s working. My heart is definitely beating faster than it’s supposed to.

“NO!” she scoffed

“Whatever you say, princess“ Jason smirked “but I don’t think you were expecting to see me here”

‘You mean outside or at Steph b-day party?”

“Let’s say both”

“Well, I never took you for a party animal Jace, so….”

“I’ll tell you a secret” he pushed himself off the wall and came closer to Y/N. too close! “I didn’t really come for Brown…..” his gaze focused on her , eyeing her from head to toe and ended flickering between her lips and eyes making the girl choke down. “That;s a really nice outfit, princess….” He muttered and she was suddenly extremely aware of every nerve ending in her body “I guess I’ll see you inside” before she could gasp a single word Jason trampled the butt, smirked at her and disappeared inside.

What the hell just happened?!

Her head was spinning, heart jumping out of her chest, breath becoming uneven

Jason fucking Todd.

Of course he was just making fun of her. There was not a chance he meant what he said as a complement. Not an option that he was interested in her. He was a freaking edgelord, trained at intimidating people and bickering.

So why were her cheeks burning like that? Why was there a smile lingering on her lips, wondering that maybe…. Maybe …..

“Hey you!” this time it was female voice throwing her back to reality

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” a tall girl stepped into the light and Y/N could see her face. The other girl was just beautiful. Her every step showed the confidence and determination. Oh, that one knew what she wanted and how to get it. And y/n had a feeling why she took interest in her. “How do you know the 10”

“the 10?”

“That guy you were talking to. Don’t you know the scale?”

“Oh, no, please” Y/N whined “why do people feel the urge to judge each other like this? This is just …. Humiliating and freaking objectifying!”

“sorry to break it to you, sunshine, but that’s how the world works. People judge each other. How else would they get together? There are some rules to maintain, and social status is the barrier. Simple as it. Your… friend is a total 10. And so am I.”

“Right…..” as if Y/N didn’t know that. Of course she knew that was how it worked. She was actually painfully aware of that. And familiar with the fact that Jace was most definitely a 10. His ripped body was speaking for itself, and the little scars on his face, including that hated J was only adding to the flame. He was perfect image of a bad boy and it’s no news that most of the girls fall for that. To add to that, Jason was also a perfect mix of many different traits. Rough and sarcastic, but deeply caring. Harsh and violent when it came to enemies, but loving and longing for the one that were close to him. He was keeping his walls up and was wary, but once you gained his trust you get to know him on so many different levels. Y/N knew all that. And it was not easy to see herself in comparison. Boring, average, ordinary girl. She didn’t stand a chance.

“Listen, pidgeon. “ the blonde said, running fingers through her hair, fixing them to look sexier “I’m just saving you heartbreak. Stay in your line. Go back home, change into sweatpants and chat with someone online. That’s more of a place for someone like you. Do you understand me?’

“Oh, fuck you.” y/n muttered

“Mhm. Someone definitely will do that tonight….” The girl grinned like a predator and followed Jason inside.

Y/N had enough. No matter how much this would break Steph heart, no matter how much of a cowardly behavior it was, she was going home. But that meant getting back to the club, grabbing her coat and perhaps seeing something her poor heart could not take.

“Oh fuck it!” she hissed to herself again. “just get yourself together, girl. You knew that one day, sooner or later, he was going to get a hot girl. Just get that shit inside your brain and keep smiling for him. If anyone deserve happiness it definitely Jace.”

If only that little pep talk worked. But no matter how much Y/n tried, her emotions were stronger than her brain. And unfortunately she saw exactly what she was fearing so much. The blonde had already approached Jason, smiling at him innocently, fluttering her eyelashes and talking, talking and talking while he was just listening. After a couple minutes of that show, his face expression changed from curiosity through amusement and then to taunting. And then he laughed at her face.

He laughed at the hot girl.

And then he turned around spotting Y/N with tears in her eyes and became concerned in a blink of an eye, ditching the blonde and rushing towards his friend.

“Let’s get the hell out of here” he mumbled grabbing her small hand, enveloping it in his and simply leading her out.

Y/N should not have felt so good having his attention and care. She shouldn’t have let him do all that. She shouldn't have enjoyed his warm hand holding her and sending heat waves all over her. She should have told him to stay and relax and have fun, to forget about her, but she just couldn’t do any of that. She wanted him. She needed him to ease her pain and soothe her and hold her and to be with her and never, never, never let go. Stupid, selfish silly girl.

“Y/N.” Jason grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him the second they were back outside.

“Please, don’t ask me who hurt me. Please, don’t use that words ‘cause I will break under the weight of your care.” She thought “care that is not mine for the taking….”

“Who hurt you?” he asked exactly what she was fearing. And then she truly could not hold it back any longer as her body started shaking and she found herself in his warm, calming, protective embrace, sobbing desperately, unable to form any coherent words, just crying into his chest. “Shhhh. Just tell me. I will make it right, I promise.”

“No….” she sobbed and it made him pull away and look at her.

“What do you mean ‘no’? Y/n/n? What is going on? Whoever made you sad does not deserve to breathe.”

“Jason, please just let go off me. Please, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t let you do this anymore.”

“Do what, love?”

“Stop calling me that” she struggled against him, but he was too strong and kept her close. “Why can’t you see? You’re a 10! I don’t even reach within the scale! You should find yourself the girl in your league! Why can’t you just stick to the rules!”

‘You’re unbelievable.” He chuckled shaking his head “truly unbelievable.”

“Stop making fun out of me! You shouldn’t…. You can’t …..” she hiccupped

“That is really bold of you to start a sentence like this. Telling me what do. But go on, I'm listening carefully.”

“I’m not good enough for you! I’m no one! And you…. you’re you! We’re not supposed to even be seen together! It will ruin your reputation and ….”

“My reputation….” He almost laughed “dammit, love. Are you done?” he locked his hands on her waist and it made her eyes grow wide. Something was terribly wrong here.

“No, I ….”

“Too bad.” He interrupted her, pulling her closer and she immediately put hands on his toned chest to separate their bodies. Grave mistake since feeling all that muscles only made her want him more. Again. “Cause now I will speak and you will listen, baby.”

“Baby?”

“You’re gullible. Self-conscious. Oblivious as fuck. Why? Why can’t you see that I don’t give a damn about should, could, must or mustn’t. I do what I want. Screw the rules, which are fucking stupid by the way. Me being a 10, shit!” now he laughed for real and that wonderful, rare sound made her close her eyes, indulging in this. “Like I care!”

“But you are! For me!’ it just slipped through her mouth without her thinking “shit, did I say that out loud?��

“I’m glad you did.” He leaned forward a bit, testing the waters, and when she did not pull he back just put his lips onto hers, his grip on her tightening, her hands tangling in his hair. She was making out with him. In front of a public premise. Where everyone could see.

“No…” she pulled back upon realizing what was happening “this is wrong….”

“Stop being stubborn” he muttered resuming kissing her, this time harder, more intensely, that sudden craving of her taking over him. He finally had her without all her inhibitions and doubts. He had her in his arms.

“Jace….?” She asked hesitantly when he cut the kiss and leaned his forehead on hers.

“You’re right y/n. You don’t fit the scale. Cause sure as fuck you are my 11.”

“But….”

“Oh, no, baby, forget it. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you, but I’m not letting you go away from me now that I have you.”

“Is this real?” she mumbled.

“Let’s see about that.” He smirked and kissed her again. And again. And again. Proving that this was not just a crazy dream of a delusional girl, but deep honest feelings on his part.

He loved her.

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suunani · 19 days ago

Text

pieces of myself ( hwang intak )

▍ intak reminds you that you’re enough as you are.

content: 1600 words, male reader, added member!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, boyfriend!intak, reader is having a breakdown, intak is the biggest sweetheart.

the dressing room was colder than usual.

the harsh overhead lights flickered softly, casting long, silent shadows across the space.

it felt like time was moving in slow motion. your breath coming out in shallow, uneven gasps as you sat at the vanity, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

you had just finished another successful concert with the boys, another night of applause, screams, and flashing cameras. but all you could hear now, in the quiet aftermath, was the pounding in your chest.

the image staring back at you wasn't really you anymore.

the stage lights had dimmed, but the hollow feeling in your chest hadn't. you had spent hours perfecting that flawless image — perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect posture. the boy the fans adored, the boy the company demanded you be.

but who was the real you?

who were you when the lights were off?

you had been suffocating for so long. the constant pressure, the weight of expectations from the fans, the industry, and — perhaps most of all — the pressure you put on yourself to meet them.

there were days when the smile you wore in front of the cameras felt like it was carved into your face, like a mask you couldn't remove. and every day, the weight of the mask felt heavier.

but today? today, it felt unbearable.

the knock on the door broke the silence, but you didn't move.

you didn't want to face anyone, least of all the one person who always made you feel like you were more than just the idol everyone expected you to be.

"y/n? are you in there?" it was intak, his voice low but filled with concern.

you swallowed, trying to steady your breath, trying to put on a face for him.

"yeah, i'm fine," you said quickly, the lie tasting bitter in your mouth.

you hadn't been fine for a while now, but saying it out loud made it feel real.

the door creaked open, and in he walked.

his eyes instantly fell on you. you hadn't even turned your face toward him, but the way he stood there, so still, so patient, told you everything you needed to know.

he had known something was wrong the moment you'd entered the building, and he hadn't stopped looking for you since. he'd noticed the way you'd withdrawn into yourself during the performance, the way your usual spark seemed dulled.

but intak wasn't the type to push when you weren't ready, so he waited. but now, seeing the emptiness in your eyes, he couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"y/n..." his voice was so soft, so full of empathy. "what's going on?"

you hated the way your throat closed at his words, how they made everything inside you feel more fragile, more exposed.

you had tried so hard to keep everything locked inside, but in front of him, it felt like it was all coming apart.

"i'm fine," you repeated, your voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

"no, you're not," intak stepped closer, his voice gentle but firm. "you don't have to keep pretending with me, y/n. please, talk to me. what's going on?"

you could feel your chest tightening, the familiar sensation of a breakdown creeping up.

but you held it back, like you always did.

you couldn't let him see you like this. you couldn't show him the weakness, the cracks in the perfect image you were supposed to embody.

"i just need a minute," you said, your voice strained, desperate to push him away so you wouldn't have to face the pain.

but intak wasn't backing off.

he knelt beside you, his expression softening as he reached out to touch your arm.

"it's okay. you don't have to do this alone. you're not weak, y/n. you're allowed to break sometimes. but you don't have to carry all of this on your own."

the words were like a bomb going off inside of you. the dam you had spent so long building finally cracked.

you didn't want to cry. you didn't want to fall apart in front of him, but the moment intak touched you, his warmth, his concern, the tears flooded out.

you couldn't stop them.

"i... i don't know what's wrong with me, intak," you whispered, voice breaking with the weight of all the fear you'd been holding in. "i'm supposed to be perfect. i'm supposed to be this idol that everyone looks up to, but i can't keep doing it anymore. i'm so tired. i'm just so... tired."

your body shook with the force of your sobs, the overwhelming exhaustion finally spilling over. you felt like you were suffocating under the pressure.

the company, the fans, the endless expectations. it all felt so far removed from who you were as a person. you had always done your best to keep up the image. smiling, laughing, always giving more than you thought you had.

but now? now you didn't even know who you were.

intak didn't say anything for a moment. he just sat there, quietly watching you, as if giving you the space to let it all out. his hand remained on your shoulder, his touch reassuring but gentle.

"you don't have to be perfect, y/n."

he finally whispered, his voice filled with such tenderness that it almost felt like he was trying to heal the broken pieces of you.

"you don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. it's okay to be tired. it's okay to need a break. you're allowed to be human."

"i'm not perfect," you gasped through your sobs, shaking your head as though the words themselves physically hurt. "i'm so scared that one day i'm going to wake up and everything will come crashing down. what if they hate me? what if they don't love me for who i really am?"

intak's hand tightened on your shoulder, and you could feel the ache in his chest, too, as if hearing the depth of your pain hurt him just as much as it hurt you.

it was breaking him, but he wasn't going anywhere. he couldn't leave you like this.

"y/n, listen to me," he said softly, lifting your chin so that you had to look at him.

his eyes were filled with so much emotion that it made your heart ache.

"i don't care if you're perfect. i don't care about the image the company created for you or what anyone expects. you're enough. just as you are."

you shook your head, unable to accept his words. you didn't believe them.

not when you felt so far removed from the person everyone thought you were. the real you. the person that had been buried under layers of expectation. the person who didn't even know if they could go on pretending anymore.

"i'm not enough," you whispered, broken. "i'm not good enough for you. i'm not good enough for anyone."

you could feel your chest constricting again, the weight of your self-doubt pressing down on you like a vice.

intak's eyes filled with anguish, his face scrunching up with the emotion he couldn't hide. it physically hurt him to see you like this, to see the person he loved so much torn apart by invisible forces.

"y/n," he said, his voice shaking now. "you are more than enough. don't you get it? i'm not with you because of your image. i'm not with you because of the fans. i'm with you because i love you. the real you. the person who cares so much for others, the person who makes me laugh when i'm down, the person who gets frustrated with the smallest mistakes and pushes himself to do better. you're perfect in the way that matters. you're perfect to me."

his words, raw and sincere, were like a balm to the wound in your heart. but even as he spoke them, you couldn't fully believe them.

the weight of everything you were carrying felt too heavy. the fear that you weren't worthy of his love, the fear that one day everything would come crashing down, clouded your mind.

the pressure was suffocating.

"i don't know how to be that person anymore," you admitted, your voice barely audible. "i don't know who i am without all of this. without the image, the expectations. i don't even recognize myself anymore. i just feel so... lost."

intak's heart broke even further, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you into his arms.

it was a tight, protective hug, the kind that wrapped around you like a shield, like he would never let go. he buried his face in your hair, holding you as if he could absorb all of your pain and exhaustion into himself.

"i'm so sorry, y/n," he whispered, his voice breaking. "i never wanted you to feel like this. i just want you to be happy. i just want you to be okay."

and in that moment, all the walls you'd built around yourself, all the lies you'd told, started to crumble.

you felt his love, steady and unwavering, surrounding you. his warmth was the only thing that made the fear and exhaustion bearable.

"i'll help you," he said softly, pulling back just enough to kiss your forehead. "we'll figure this out together. you don't have to carry this weight alone. i'm here. i'm always here."

for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself lean into him completely.

the overwhelming flood of emotions left you raw and vulnerable, but with intak beside you, it didn't feel like the end. it felt like the beginning of something new.

maybe it wouldn't be easy. maybe you'd still have moments where the weight of everything felt unbearable. but for now, you didn't have to pretend anymore.

you weren't alone. and that was enough.

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 1 year ago

Text

🎃 That's my darlin'..

Reward CW: Abduction, blackmail, dub-con, humiliation, oral (giving)

The basement was suddenly filled with light, illuminating first on the staircase from the opened door then blinding (Reader) when their kidnapper flipped on the light switch. They shuffled back into the furthest corner of their cage. The cage was wide enough to lay down in and tall enough to sit up on their knees.

"Good morning, darlin'!" Billy joyfully called out as he hit the bottom step. "Did you sleep well?" Nothing good ever came from trying to reason with the bastard, so (Reader) was nervous to play along. Black boots clomped against cement as he approached the cage.

"I'm.. I'm really hungry, Billy." (Reader) tried not to cry, knowing that by responding they were entering whatever sick game Billy had prepared for them. It was always something new, some disturbing way to humiliate them and break them down. They didn't want to, but the hunger pains were too extreme to ignore.

"Well, you know what you have to do to get what you want.."

"You want me to beg?!"

"Heavens no! I'm your future husband, not your God. I don't want you to beg.. but.." Billy smiled wide, revealing all his sharp, uneven teeth. "if you play real nice, I'll reward ya. What do you say?"

"Okay." Hoping Billy meant complimenting him or sweet talking him (Reader) agreed far too quickly, scooting over to the bars he stood at. "What do you want me to do?"

"Pretend like we're newlyweds." The bastard said matter-of-factly.

Blushing not with cute embarrassment, but shame, (Reader) smiled as sweetly as they could. They knew it was a trap, but they needed to eat. "We-Welcome home, baby! How w-was work?"

His shoulders relaxed, releasing tension as his sinister smile turned loving. "It was a rough one, but I'm glad to be home now! I missed you."

"I... missed you too."

The warm and tender look on his face darkened again, revealing the twist that (Reader) had been waiting for. Billy unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants to his knees, standing in only his boxers in front of (Reader), his hips level with their face. (Reader) flinched away, crying out "What are you doing?!"

"Ah ah ah, newlyweds, remember? Madly in love, still in our honeymoon phase, newlyweds. What does my little darlin' want to do, seeing the man they love like this?"

Tears stuck to (Reader's) lashes like dew drops on spider webs. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well.. you're already on your knees."

Sobbing silently, (Reader) reached through the bars, rubbing Billy's flaccid penis through his underwear. His body was pressed against the cage, giving (Reader) complete access to his body. They kissed him through the musty cloth, feeling his cock harden against their lips. Trembling fingers continued playing with Billy's member until he sighed

"You know, I'm starting to think you don't want it.."

"No!"

(Reader) hastily pulled down his boxers, eagerly kissing and licking the growing member. They sucked on his dick, feeling as it swelled to fill their mouth. Their hands continued frantically petting him, caressing his heavy testicles tenderly as they swirled their tongue across his slit.

Billy groaned in approval, encouraging (Reader) to continue. Hearing his heavy breathing and feeling his subtle bucking into their mouth warmed (Reader) down to their core. They kept telling themselves that they were only acting desperate for his dick because they wanted to be let out of their cage, but the uncomfortable feeling in their own under garments continued increasing as the hungrily devoured Billy's dripping precum.

"That's my darlin'.." Billy praised, making (Reader) whimper sweetly with their bruised lips still wrapped around his shaft. "Fuck, you're doing such a good job playing house.."

Grabbing their head through the bars, Billy pulled (Reader) off his dick with a wet pop, releasing his load onto their face, painting their flushed cheeks and tired eyes with his thick semen.

"What do you say?"

(Reader) smiled dopily, knowing that they did a good job. "Thank you, sweetheart!"

"Very good." Billy cooed, reaching down to his back pocket and pulling out (Reader's) reward: the key.

#kinktober #cw abduction #cw dubcon #cw humiliation #yandere stalker x reader

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ceareon · 7 months ago

Text

"Salvation"

Yan! Angel x Apostate! GN! Reader

You find yourself surviving the end of the world. Yet now you're stuck with the angelic creature that tore your world apart. content warning: end of the world, gore, male yandere, religious themes, obsessive behavior. ALSO NOT PROOF READ

Part 2: "Repentance"

Artwork: "Death on a Pale Horse, ver. 1" By Benjamin West

The air was still, barely anything made noise. The soft cackles of the burning buildings in front of you slowly stifled into silence, leaving you alone with your thoughts as well as the smell of burning weed and flesh. Oh that burning smell of flesh reeked. Its been engraved in your mind since the start of all of this.

—

Your mother had gone missing. As well as thousands of humans on the same day without a trace. This of course brought mass destruction to the cities, humans suddenly disappearing without a trace was unheard of. Especially in broad daylight with witnesses. Despite your best efforts. In mud, you kneeled at sunset on the day of your birthday, dread filling you from the fact you couldn't find where your mother had gone to. You hadn't even been able to blow out your candle, now your dearest mother was gone, almost like she ceased to exist.

It was the day after your birthday when the first seal was broken, the white horse with its horseman grasping a bow, galloped forward in a quest to conquer. You couldn't forget that day, where the crown the horseman bared on it's head was soaked soaked in blood. In front of your eyes, your brother was taken from you.

Not long after you ran, tears pouring from your eyes as you feel your breath start to become uneven. You clutched your ears tightly, not listening when you hear your father calling out to you. Your heart was erratically beating. What the hell had just happened?

Hours go by, hiding in the small meadow near your home. Barely any people there yet you could still see the destruction being caused on the cities just far from where you sat. In your hand was your phone tightly clutched in your hand, you could see the countless posts on people lasts goodbyes, last smiles, last sorry's, last moments. Tears drip down, once you see the last post your father had posted. You were tagged in it.

"I love you @/darling"

posted on XX/XX/XXXX, a few minutes ago

You couldn't control the tears from pouring down, tears staining the screen of your phone before you threw it on the ground from sheer anger and disdain for yourself. How could you abandon your last family member? Dread started to fill you. You couldn't even breathe anymore.

—

You collapsed on the ground, choking blood as you barely had a will to live. Yet despite everything, you were never killed. You couldn't even take your own life despite having tried it so many times. This end of times had lasted for at least 7 days. Yet you felt as though you've been surviving for a decade.

"Human."

The air had suddenly gone cold. No longer did you feel that comfort of knowing your end was near. No. All you felt was dread. Like every little moment you had made to soothe yourself for your end was going to be ripped out of your stomach. You felt like you were about to vomit. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at the holy creature that burned it's thousands of eyes into you.

"Fear not... I'm here to bring you your salvation..."

Beside you it kneels down, gently, it wraps an arm around your waist, trying to make you sit up, yet you don't comply, causing it to huff in annoyance.

"Must you really be so stubborn?"

It forcefully grabs into your hair, pulling down to make you look up at it, yet your eyes only haze once you see the blinding light of it's halo. Fear stricken you as you see the adoring affection it shows through it's in humans face. You absolutely detest it.

"Oh... You are more enchanting than I would have thought."

Burning anger and sorrow reeks through your skin, yet you were too weak, too tired to show it. All you could do was spill the tears you've forced down for so long. It's inhuman face contorts, you could see it's makeshift eyebrows furrowing, while the thousands of eyes that were on it's skin squints, almost in a confused manner. Yet in all honesty you didn't know what emotion it was actually showing.

"Oh, human... My human. You must be so confused. I'm here to take you where you belong. To the kingdom above."

It's disgustingly human lips turn upward into an odd smile. Causing you to recoil back from uncanny disgust. No where in your pathetic life were you about to trust an Angel. Not after the calamities they've brought to the earth in the name of salvation. Just thinking about it made you heart clench as you were reminded by what you've witnessed for the past 168 hours. No amount of holy water will make you forget what these vile creatures had done to the planet you called home.

"Human."

The Angelic creature immediately apprehends you to the ground using it's four hands. You couldn't even squirm under it's grip. It wouldn't let you go. Not after having you under it's grasps now.

"I had never given you the option to say no."

#yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere male #yandere #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere insert #yandere angel

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heauxvibez · 10 months ago

Text

Warning: Smut (18+)

Downtown

My desire is begging for the healing Let me guide you down to the place to be..

Roman let out a shaky breath, every soft kiss you placed upon his bare torso making him slowly lose himself. The blankets became hostage to his grip as the feeling in the pit of his belly engulfed him. Each kiss felt like a tiny spark and he savored the sensation as it spread through his body.

The sweat acted as an adhesive as his strands of hair caressed his beautiful face, highlighting the contours of his features in the dim light of the room. His chest rose and fell with each uneven breath, a testament to the intensity of his arousal.

There was nothing you loved more than seeing the love of your life unravel in front of you. To know that he was the one being submissive this time stirred a different type of feeling within you—a mixture of power and adoration that fueled your desire to please him even more.

Watching him moan and squirm as he leisurely became vulnerable to your touch was a delight. It was enough to send you into a frenzy, your own heart racing in sync with his.

Nibbling and licking along his waist, you left your own little love bites to make sure he remembered who he belonged to. Each touch provoked light thrusts from him, a silent plea for more.

"Please.." he pleaded, his voice filled with longing, his eyes gazing down at you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. His vulnerability only served to fuel your wants and needs to please him.

You were slightly surprised by his submission, different from his usual demeanor. He had never been so submissive for this long, and you couldn't help but wonder what had prompted this change. Maybe he was working on his patience, or maybe he simply craved the intimacy of this moment.

Roman's hand grazed the top of your head, urging you to go further down, his touch a silent invitation to explore every inch of his body.

"Relax, baby.." you assured him, your voice seemed to soothe his restless soul.

"I'll take care of you real nice.." you promised. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips; you sounded just like him.

Roman's hand moved from your hair to your face, his touch tender yet possessive. His thumb softly pulled down on your bottom lip, a silent reminder of who was really in control.

For a minute, his demeanor shifted from vulnerability to dominance. But that control was soon lost when you took hold of his hand and slipped two of his fingers into your mouth, your tongue wrapping around them in a slow and seductive dance.

"Fuck," Roman threw his head back, his mouth agape, his breath hitching in his throat at the unexpected sensation. You hadn't even touched him yet, and already he was at your mercy, his desire laid bare for you to see.

You withdrew his fingers from your mouth, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you teased him with a promise of what was to come. Each movement was deliberate, each touch proved to him how much you wanted him.

You placed wet kisses on his thighs, and you savored every moment of this intimacy. His muscles contracted with each movement he made, his breath coming in short gasps as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of your touch.

The moans that escaped his lips made you shudder, the sight of him writhing beneath you was something you wish you could've captured on film. Little did he know, even with all his control, you felt as submissive as ever especially under his gaze.

Though you wanted him to be patient, you knew you had teased him enough. So, you decided to give him what he wanted, to satisfy the craving that burned within him.

Grabbing his erect member, you peppered it with kisses. You could hear his breath quicken, his anticipation building with each passing moment.

"Is it mine, baby?" you questioned, your voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down his spine. You savored the taste of him on your tongue.

"Mhm," he answered, his voice a low groan of pleasure as he felt himself at the back of your throat..

You pulled your mouth away from him, each movement intended to drive him wild.

"Use your words, baby," you whispered, your voice a gentle reminder of the power you held over him.

Roman let out a breathy chuckle while his fingers tangled in his hair.

"Yes, baby girl...it's..yours," he moaned between words as he succumbed to the feeling.

"Mmm, that's what I like to hear," you murmured, satisfied with his answer.

You took him back into your throat. His fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your head up and down, his hips working in sync with yours.

"Oh, Fuck," he moaned softly.

You slurped, devouring him whole. His back arched away from the bed, the feeling of your lips wrapped around him overwhelming him completely.

Roman was beginning to get closer and closer to reaching his peak.

"Fuck..fuck..fuck," he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure as he thrust into your throat with each curse that left his lips, his body trembling with ecstasy as he climaxed.

You swallowed every single drop, the taste of him on your tongue fueling your arousal. You sucked him dry, your lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to coax every last drop of pleasure from him.

He used his thumb to wipe the cum that threatened to fall from your lips.

"How was I?" you asked, kissing your way back up his exhausted body.

"Amazing," he said, before placing sweet kisses on your lips.

"But now, I think I should return the favor," he whispered, the kisses traveling along your neck and making their way downtown...

-----------

Omg that took forreeevvveeeeerrrr. Excuse me if there are any mistakes lmao I did my besstttt, don't come for me

This man would be a great pornstar because whhyyyy do we know what this man's love faces look like..

like sir we don't even have to imagine what it's like to see you moan, there's 1 million gifs of what that looks like

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede

#wwe #roman reigns #wwefanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #romanreignsimagine #romanreignsoneshot

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muffinsin · 7 months ago

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Ok muffin hear me out the sisters s/o kissing, tracing and questioning about the girls head tattoo. I think the story on how the sister got it would be so cute!!!!!!!!!

Pls if you can had fluff to it and more about the sister relationship!

Awh, this one’s adorable!

While I HC that the tattoos were unknowingly and unwillingly given to them by Mother Miranda a short while after their re-birth as a way of “branding” or “marking” them as Dimitrescus, I’ll share different HCs and stories here in order to make it a little more wholesome :)!

Let’s get into it!

Masterlists

Bela

She’s completely calm in your embrace, her tired, golden eyes closed at last, her breath calm and just uneven enough to tell you she hasn’t fallen asleep yet

She’s quiet, by far too relaxed to even keep humming quietly as she did minutes ago

With your arm around her and your hand gently stroking her cheek, she’s the most comfortable and calm she’s been all week

And she deserves the break, too

After an awful week of having to deal with her bratty sisters, stupid and incapable new staff members, Lycans pushing into the castle’s territory and too much paperwork for it to be right, you want to help her destress

You want to take care of her

And what an amazing job you’re doing already

She’s close to dozing off already, content and happy at the light, slightly ticklish feeling of your fingertip tracing her facial features

Then, you come to rest at her forehead, where the tattoo is placed

You trace the rose, the halo, the thorn

Then, you notice you have no idea how she even got such a thing. You always assumed her skin and quick healing speed wouldn’t allow tattoos and piercings

When the question slips from your lips, her eyes open slightly, just enough for you to spot the bright gold in them before she pulls you close

She moves closer to you, her body stretched out lazily against yours like the one of an overgrown house cat lounging on a sofa

Then, her lips part, granting you her answer

“It was originally Cassandra who got it, I’m not sure why”, she answers. A small giggle falls from her thick, unpainted lips and you can’t help but smile as well when she adds: “I thought it looked stupid”

“How come you ended up getting one too, then?”, you ask

She pauses, her eyes opening a little. She’s waiting, you realize after a few seconds

Laughing, you raise your hands again and begin scratching her scalp and stroking her hair gently

Pleased, she continues on

“I didn’t really plan on it at first. But in time, I noticed Mother wearing that symbol everywhere. It’s stitched into the side of her dress, and the underside of her hat”, Bela explains

She shrugs, then, giggling lightly

“I wanted to match her”

You laugh at this, your lips pressing a kiss to her forehead affectionately

Yes, of course

That’s the Bela you know and love. A mommy’s girl through and through. You’re hardly surprised she got herself such a tattoo out of eagerness to match with Alcina

After all, it’s not all that different from how she attempts to match her mother’s perfume and the way her lipstick is applied, her posture, her vocabulary

You know, Alcina is Bela’s role model in nearly every way

You find it adorable, the thought of a young Bela tattooing herself with the exact design her sister and mother wears

Secretly, you’re sure she wanted to match both, perhaps slightly out of jealousy

After all, you notice her fussiness whenever attention is paid to others, despite sharing nearly all she has with her sisters

You giggle at the thought of her possessiveness, and merely press another kiss to her head when she opens her eyes again and hums

Lovingly, you trace the tattoo on her forehead, a large smile on your face when her breath evens and she falls asleep at last

4.5

Cassandra

You feel her

All around you, only her

Only she is of importance, in this moment more than ever. Only she is who you are thinking of, who is always on your mind. Only Cassandra

You feel her fingers sliding through your hair, not grasping, merely stroking through it

She’s cupping your face and holding onto you as she kisses you, over and over and over again

Her tongue is in your mouth, yours is in hers

She’s cool, but slowly warming up

Your hand at her cheek, your arm wrapped around her as you keep her close to you

When you need to break away from her lips for a moment to breathe, you smile at her

She’s in a rare position; underneath you on the bed, with her arm wrapped around you and her thighs on either side of your hips

With her hair sprawled out around her and the sun hitting her face and dark golden eyes this way, she looks god-like

A daughter of Aphrodite, her beauty far outweighing the one of the village’s supposed goddess

You take in her beautiful face, her for once clean skin and chin, her plump, dark painted lips. You feel your cheeks burning a little bit at the sight of smeared lipstick across her lips

Her nose, her cheeks, her lazy eye, the golden hue, and lastly, the tattoo on her forehead

Your hand raises and she closes her eyes as she feels you trace it. Comfort. Trust

You can’t help but wonder out loud: “How’d you get that? Why this design?”

Her head turns a little, her eyes keep staying shut. The smallest hint of pink hue covers her pale cheeks

You grin

It seems, you’ve found something embarrassing to your girlfriend

And yet, with pleading and kisses to her neck and jaw, you are granted a quietly spoken answer:

“I got it when I was younger. Say, maybe four decades after I was been reborn”, she explains. You hum in understanding

This would make her quite young still, you realise. At least for an immortal being, that is

“I went into something of a..erm..rebellious phase I guess”, she says, so quiet you must hold your breath to hear

Cassandra cringes at the memory

“I don’t even know why. But I wanted to act out. And seeing as killing the staff and so on didn’t get me far, I tried for more extreme things”

“Such as tattoos?”, you ask

You’re grateful for her closed eyes, as they prevent her from noticing your wandering eyes. You wonder; has she got more you haven’t seen yet, somehow? Your mind immediately fills with possibilities, some innocent, some less so

Cassandra grunts, her face a grimace as she recalls the actions of her younger self

“Yes. I originally just got a dagger, but freaked out pretty much afterwards. I knew Mother was going to kill me if she saw this. I fully expected to be turned into an ice cube!”, she whines quietly

You laugh a little at the thought, though instinctively wrap your arms tighter around her and pull her closer to you

“Anyway, like I said, I freaked out. I knew I couldn’t undo it, so I tattooed over it. I figured I could sell the rose as me trying to imitate the symbol on her clothing”, she shrugs

Again, you laugh

“Did it work?”

“Of course”

Daniela

You tsk as she squirms, loud whines and groans fill your ears

“I want to cuddle already!”, she whines

Instead, she only groans and growls quietly when she is tugged on your lap and gets the wet rag smeared up against her cheek again

You shake your head a little at her, but can’t help but giggle when she quietens down and only whines whenever her cheek is smudged by the rag

Really, you can’t help that though. You feel her adorable, soft cheeks through the rag as you clean her face and can’t help but push slightly harder to squish her cheek

And it brings whines forth from her each time

This time she’s really outdone herself, you think

Having jumped into the bath in the hall of ablution, she is now covered head to toe in blood while six staff members are working on cleaning the room back up

Daniela, of course, has no regrets. She’s had her fun and flashes you a wide, innocent and excited smile when you bring it up

At last, slowly but surely, you discover more and more of your girlfriend again as the blood is washed and scrubbed away

Bits and pieces of pale, soft skin are revealed to you

Her cheeks, her neck, her jaw and lips

Daniela giggles and purses her lips when the last bit of blood is removed from them

Naturally, you can’t resist her, and both of you end up giggling and laughing when you press a sweet kiss to her lips

However, as more and more skin is revealed, so is her forehead and the tattoo adorning it

You trace the shape lovingly and gently, the rag thrown in the sink as you bring your fingertip over the ink rose

It takes no time at all for you to hear loud, purr-like buzzing from her flies

Daniela holds onto your shirt loosely, her body close to yours

As you trace the shape of her tattoo, you can’t help but wonder to yourself

Why a tattoo? Why this tattoo? Why this placement? Are there more? Did she place it herself? Did her sisters help? Did her mother, even?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts again by her cheerful giggles

“Lost in thought?”, she teases, and you shake your head fondly

You pull her closer to you, already long uncaring of the blood on your clothing

“My love, what is the story behind your tattoo?”, you wonder at last

And, of course, you are granted your answer almost immediately. Daniela is never one to keep answers from you

“I copied my sisters! I thought it was some kind of gang symbol and wanted in on it”, she shrugs

“Turns out, it was just Cassandra being stupid and Bela being Bela”, she adds

Then, before you can speak, she pushes herself closer to you, her big, gold-green eyes looking up at you

“But I wear it best, wouldn’t you agree? I look the prettiest with it!”

#cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #destiny-fly

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xxlady-lunaxx · 1 month ago

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it felt unnatural. sitting here, beside giyuu, and nobody else. giyuu seemed equally uneasy, glancing around as if waiting for something—someone. the room was empty with only the two of them. usually, giyuu was one of the last hashira to arrive. so him being here now, despite the fact that there stood no one else was unnerving. sanemi fidgeted, his bandages itchy against his skin. they continued to wait.

a moment later, they were joined with a company of three. three children, really. but just as much, their leader. if sanemi and giyuu were the pillars, the ubuyashiki's were the foundation; the walls and the ceiling and the floors. where, without them, the corps wouldn't have existed.

yet the rooms were empty now, except for the lone figures of the surviving hashira. they bowed their heads as kiriya, kuina, and kanata entered. they were so young, so full of potential for a life that the corps had been built to give. to allow themselves to let go of the idea of such life in the hopes that they could gift it to someone else. at least now, they could rest easy. knowing their hopes had finally become concrete and real.

kiriya sat and his sisters followed suit. they were young yet held themselves with the knowledge and experience of people much older than them. sanemi and giyuu remained silent, giving room to speak.

the children spoke simultaneously, as if it had been rehearsed many times before. kiriya's voice trembled ever so slightly, tense under the realization that he must deliver the words. but he managed to continue, thanking giyuu, and sanemi, and all of the members of the corps from the beginning to the end. it was finally the end.

the final hashira meeting, forever. and only sanemi and giyuu were there to attend. their victory remained unspoken, instead shown through gratitude and shaky smiles, bowing. but then—the thank you should've been directed towards the ubuyashiki's. kiriya, kagaya, and every leader that tracked a thousand years back. because pillars weren't anything without something to hold up, and the ubuyashiki clan had done its best and done perfectly in doing everything they could for centuries.

now, at least, giyuu found it in himself to speak up. sanemi could agree with giyuu, could stand on the same ground because they had to let them know. show them that they had grown with the corps and they had the ubuyashiki's to thank.

and then—kiriya and kuina and kanata. all three of them. they were still children. with so much ahead of them.

they cried, softly, full of hiccups and stuttered words. sanemi and giyuu exchanged a smile—something bittersweet and theirs. the children would be alright. they would see to that, finally repaying everything the ubuyashiki's had done for them by doing their best to build a world where kiriya, and his sisters, and everyone to come, could live in the life they hoped would continue on forever.

it would just be them, for now. and the following years wouldn't be easy, despite everything. but, at least, they vowed to make the best of them. for everyone they had lost and for everyone who would follow.

the meeting ended, quietly, and the final hashira left. a few minutes later, the ubuyashiki children followed, leaving the room empty. the light filtered through the trees outside, projecting uneven ovals of golden warmth onto the tatami mats. at first glance, nothing stood inside the room. but, throughout the months and years and decades before, there was nostalgia and laughter and tears and blood tucked into the crevices of the walls, the floor and the doors. and then, finally, everybody before them for miles and miles huddled together. it was nice to relax, to allow themselves to rest. because they would be alright. everything would finally be alright.

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yourstruly9489 · 1 month ago

Text

Distortion Fanart (michael centered)

(saturated version on the left, og on right)

This is long, so a break before closeups start!

Closeups:

Text reads "The Distortion" (the o has a spiral inside of it)

More closeups but the doors on the left page are open, left to right, top to bottom:

Text reads: That was very stupid

Text reads: I am the throat of delusion incarnate

Text reads: There has never been a door there, Archivist

Text reads: How would a melody describe itself, when asked?

Text reads: "MICHAEL" That is a real name

Text reads: Does your hand in any way own your stomach?

Text reads: My very existence, tied to my pointlessness

Text reads: Did you notice which door she left through?

Text reads: I am not a "who," Archivist. I am a "what"

And that's the end of the closeups :D

All the text inside the doors are quotes from Michael Distortion btw. The only exception being "MICHAEL" bc Jon says that, but Michael does respond by saying "That is a real name" so I think it counts as a Michael quote. At least enough to be included.

I'd also like to thank a couple members of the "michael enjoyers" community for helping me come up with enough quotes. I do not remember your names, but thank you :D

The decision to make this spread was fairly impulsive. It started by me doodling spirals on a scrap piece of paper while trying to design a birthday card for a family member. While doing so, I thought, "why not fill a full page in my sketchbook with spirals?" And that turned into "I could make it into a Distortion spread."

And so, we have ended up here with a full Michael Distortion spread.

It was lots of fun to do, and has possibly gotten me out of artblock. Although, trying to come up with 9 unique doors that weren't yellow was quite the pain. Alongside the 9 different spiral patterns inside said doors. (although a couple of the spirals are copies of another)

And now a couple fun facts.

I am currently listening to "More Doors For Me" by elybeatmaker. I thought the song would be fitting.

I have only watched the first 14 episodes of TMA, and none of the TMAGP episodes. Everything I know about TMA is from my sister and Tumblr. For this reason I did only Michael, bc I know him far better than Helen. (she appears less in fanworks)

This spread took me five days. This is because I was either busy, or didn't have the motivation to work on it. The doors took the longest.

There is so much tape. The black background on the left page is black construction paper taped in, the spiral patterns underneath the doors were taped in, the doors themselves were taped on, the yellow door was also taped in, along with the hand and the wrist, both separately taped. It's a good thing I want a thick sketchbook.

My sketchbook's paper is a bit thin, so you can see the spiral behind the yellow door on the back of the next page. (I have since drawn over it, so I don't have a pic)

Each door has a separate color chosen to be the main color of said door. The colors include: Pink, Red, Orange, Yellow, Lime, Green, Light Blue, Blue, Purple, and Brown. The only one that is a normal door color (brown) has Michael inside it.

If you look closely at the right page, you can see where the lines start to get uneven in the background spiral.

I really like the idea of showing someone this spread and have them randomly open the doors, just to see a surprise Michael. :)

Materials used: generic pencil (for the initial sketch) 05 Micron pen random Prismacolors a cool multicolored lead pencil I don't know the brand of kingart twin-tipped brush pens Sipa fineliner pens scotch tape X-acto knife kid scissors black construction paper yellow cardstock A5 Fabriano sketchbook that I hate with a burning passion

Since you read this far, have some bonus Michael doodles!

^This one was variations of a scene from a dream.

^This one is from a doodle page I have laying on my desk, hence the scribbles nearby. I did not color in the lines (yes, that is nendou from TDLOSK to his left) This was also the first time I ever drew him.

I love giving him spiral cheeks :)

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago

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𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐊

Pairing: FEDRA!Javier Peña x firefly!reader

Genre: slice of life, smut, romance, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to lovers, TLOU AU, minors dni

Summary: Javier, a former member of the Federal Disaster Response Agency in Kansas City, is haunted by the guilt and violence he indirectly caused by not taking action when he should have. After fleeing Kansas City in the aftermath of Kathleen's violent overthrow of FEDRA, you and Javier seek refuge in an abandoned train in the middle of a forest.

As you and Javier turn the train into a living space and learn to navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, you gradually overcome your differences and form an unlikely bond. But when your pasts catch up with you, you must confront the demons that haunt you and make a choice that could mean the difference between life and death. Will you choose to protect each other and find a way to build a new life together, or will the ghosts of your pasts tear you apart?

word count: 4.5k

chapter summary: you and javier get off on a rocky start.

warnings: canon typical violence, arguing, a brief reference to Ellie and the main TLOU plot, no y/n

Deadhead - A railcar or locomotive that is being transported empty, typically to be used for future shipments.

The day was warm, the sun bright. Small petals flew further away from the green grass, colorful flowers moving left and right with the soft caress of the wind. The vest Javier wore dug uncomfortably into his chest, his rifle slung over his back and pistol snug on his hip. The lovely weather mocked him, taunted him. It was a lie. A facade. The color, the white clouds, the green grass— all of it seemed muddled now. If he tried hard enough he could see specks of blood, tainting the visual that could as well be a spitting image of a Van Gough painting.

But despite it all. Despite knowing it’s a lie, despite knowing the horror, he still wore the letters; F E D R A— Federal Disaster Response Agency. He liked to think that they were doing some good. At least they drove the wretched infected underground, right? They did one good thing, so that made the killing, the rape, and the torture okay.

Right?

“Fuck me.” he muttered into the wind, hoping the words, later on, would be carried back to him, reminding him that hey, at least I knew something was wrong.

He noticed someone walking up to him. He was expecting it, really. Micheal Coghlan. The man who by some goddamn miracle still carried goodness inside of him. The type of goodness that would radiate through the cracks of skin and bone, the type that would bring light to a person’s face.

Micheal had a limp.

It was caused by someone Javier knew but didn’t particularly like. He saw it happen. He still heard the bone snapping into two when he closed his eyes at night. The man stood next to him and Javier observed him from the corner of his eye. Once upon a time, he could call his face roguishly handsome. It wasn’t a sharp face, round around the edges, with a bit of stubble; shaved by his sister no doubt. His eyes were kind, a darker shade of brown compared to his own, lips thin and chapped. Thirsty.

Javier cleared his throat, hand going to his waist, he pulled out his flask and offered it to him.

“Water?”

He took it without an answer. Drank it in a way where water droplets would stream from the corner of his lips, his gulps loud. It made Javier feel awkward. Micheal stood a bit straighter when he offered the flask back. It was empty.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Javier asked.

Micheal smiled and crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes. “The people.”

It’s a bird violently flying into the window that wakes you.

Your eyes open fearfully, your heart beating a mile a minute. Your breathing is uneven. Dust clings to both the inside of your throat and skin. Eyes still wide open, you stare at the ceiling of the train. The seats you managed to sprawl yourself upon are uncomfortable, jagged metal sticking into your skin, making ugly marks and dents. When your breathing calms, and body relaxes, you slowly get up.

The weather is hot, yet gray clouds decorate the sky. The heat of rain, you like to refer to it as. You can barely see the sun, the light of it filtered through the gray, painting the world into a muted color. Fitting.

You hear a snore and direct your gaze toward the sound. You see the boots that belong to a man that’s sleeping a couple of rows ahead, too big to truly fit and get comfortable. Javier Peña. You heave yourself up by grasping the heads of the seats, your legs aching and stumbling like a newborn doe’s. His shirt is unbuttoned from the top, revealing golden, scarred skin. Your eyes trail further down, and they don’t stop until you see the gun strapped to his waist. You think about how easy it would be to just take it, to shoot him and try to find your people.

Then you remember. They’re all gone. You have no people. Marlene’s words were clear;

The girl’s gone. No more soldiers, no cure, no nothing. The fireflies are dead; you’re on your own now.

A chill crawls up every inch of your skin. Why are you even here? Why are you with him of all people? You’re not sure yet. It’s much easier to dislike him when he’s not speaking and his eyes are closed.

You hate that when they are closed, the only memory of them is him being struck with fear, the flames behind you mirrored in his eyes. Kansas City quickly became a place of destruction and death. It was unexpected and with every fabric of your being, you wished you had never seen it.

“Why are you watching me?” his voice startles you; it’s deep with sleep. “It’s creepy.”

“I was thinking about taking your gun and shooting you.”

“I’ve always loved an honest woman. What stopped you?”

“I have no place to go.”

“Neither do I, as you know,” he says. He finally opens his eyes, but only to stare at the ceiling in a similar way you did not moments ago. “So where does that leave us?”

You don’t understand what he’s asking you. The air is still. Javier takes a sitting position, his elbows pressed into his knees and hands hanging loosely between his legs.

“I say we stay here,” he says, voice firm.

“The train?” you ask, confused.

He shrugs. “Why not? It’s covered pretty well, it’s far enough for people to see and close enough if—god forbid—we want to head back into the city.”

“You want us to live together?”

“I want us to turn this into a living space. After that leave, if you want,” he rubs his thumb into the corner of his lips. “Though I wouldn’t really advise leaving, and I definitely need your help.”

“So I should stay because?”

“Safety. Security.” his smile is bitter. “What else can a person want during the end of times?”

“Someone they can trust.”

“You can trust me.”

You look him over. He must’ve sensed your immediate hostility because his gaze slowly moves to you. He returns your suspicion in like, contemplating what to say. You don’t trust him. He doesn’t trust you. Javier’s fingers twitch and his hand moves to clap over his pocket. He lets out a sigh of relief when he feels the familiar shape of a cigarette box.

He licks his lips again.

You gaze out the windows. They’re thick with dust and vines, the outside seems a tad bit brighter now, the gray clouds clearing up a bit.

“Being addicted must be hard,” you mutter. “What are you going to do when you run out? Sacrifice yourself for a box of Marlboros?”

He chuckles. “Maybe. Who knows. I’m not out of stock yet.”

“Not a very comforting thing to hear from a man that’s arguing that I should trust him.”

“It’s not like I said I’d trade you for a pack of cigarettes.”

“Who knows. That’s what you said, right?”

He sighs and gets up. He walks down the narrow hall of the train, hands brushing over the headrests. You follow him outside, and just like you suspected, the weather is grossly warm with no light. The dry weeds crunch under your boots. Javier pulls out the crumpled pack and offers you one; you shake your head. You’re surrounded by trees, with little to see except the sky.

“Wouldn’t want to dry out your stock faster.”

“That scared of what I’ll do if I run out?” he smiles, placing the butt of the cigarette between his lips. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re paranoid or smart.”

“Paranoia works.”

“I guess that’s true.” he mutters, lighting a match. “So what are you going to do? Stay or leave?”

Javier inhales deeply, his lips not too tight not too loose. A soft groan vibrates from the back of his throat and he lets go of the smoke. Your eyes follow the dance of it, twisting and dissipating like the vapor on the first exhales of winter. He places the cigarette back between his lips and tucks his hands behind as he leans back into the metal surface of the train.

He waits as you think. It’s ironic really, the fact that you’re actually contemplating staying with him. Needless to say, FEDRA and the fireflies don’t have the best relationship, but you guess that’s all behind you now. There are no organizations at this moment, no rebellions. Just him and you; two people looking for a way to survive.

You turn to stare at the train. It’s nearly completely intact— there are six cars and the locomotive. If you stare hard enough you can spot the tracks buried under the moss and grass. It would take a lot of work, but indeed it was possible to turn it into a living space.

“Give me a gun,” you say and he smiles.

“What makes you think I have more than one?”

“Then give me the one.” you press.

“The first thing you said to me this morning was that you wanted to shoot me.” he pushes himself away from the metal surface. Pulling his cigarette away from his lips, he stands an inch away from you and holds your gaze. His smile disappears as smoke fans across your face, making your stomach churn. “Are you going to stay?” he asks.

“If you give me the gun then sure.” you tilt your chin up. “I don’t trust FEDRA.”

“I’m not FEDRA anymore and you’re not a firefly.”

“You were once. I think you can see why I have my reservations. You weren’t just any FEDRA soldier, you were a part of it in Kansas City. I heard horror stories about that place.” you rub your eyes, trying to erase what they had seen. “And I actually witnessed the fables.”

Javier takes a step back then, admitting defeat. Something horrific seems to cross his face, a series of violent images perhaps, or maybe it was the loss of his “friends” whatever it was you don’t pay much mind to it. Everyone has pain. Even children who are meant to be carefree and happy. You’re surprised when he suddenly hands you the gun, cigarette loose between his lips. You take the weapon. It’s heavy in your hand, cold between your fingers.

“Satisfied?”

“Very much so, yes.” you don’t smile, but you pull an expression very similar to it. He exhales another breath of smoke, and you push the gun under your waistband. “Where do we start?”

“You can’t be serious, Carillo.”

It was dark and he could barely see the figure of his colleague. Javier had the intention of stepping forward and taking the gun from the other, but he stood there instead, heart beating in his throat. His stomach churned, bile thick on his tongue. Carillo didn’t bother to look at him. There was a man that was on his knees in front of the captain, his head bowed, shaking like a leaf. Carillo aimed his gun at him, his jaw tense.

“You rather them kill us?”

“I rather none of us kill each other.”

Carillo finally turned to him then. Javier would expect the captain’s eyes to soften but they didn’t.

“You heard what happened in the other QZ’s,” he spat. “Soldiers being killed, murdered. The people rioting. We can’t let weeds grow free Peña, he already killed one of us. You heard the rumors to overthrow FEDRA.”

Before Javier could say anything a gunshot echoed, a body fell lifelessly to the concrete. He didn’t move. He didn’t even twitch. He just watched. Carillo placed a hand on his shoulder and the skin under Javier’s shirt burned—his stomach trembled then.

“Ya no vivimos en un mundo de misericordia. Elige un bando.”

Pick a side.

Carillo left, Javier followed. Without thinking, his hand went to his empty flask. The cool metal under his fingertips did little to soothe him.

It’s odd being here with him. You feel trapped by nature, by circumstance. Nothing is the same and nothing would ever be the same. You lean over and sweep out the glass into a tattered bag. Javier had decided on burying the glass or anything else you might find and have no use for down into the dirt. You didn’t have any objections to that. When you lean over to pick up a piece of a broken wine bottle, you feel the gun Javier gave you pressing into the skin of your hip.

You always hated cleaning before the outbreak. Now it was a soothing thing to do. It felt normal. A reminisce of the past. Still, you can’t help but feel sick from being at ease. Change has to happen. But with the immune girl gone, and the fireflies basically disbanded (at least that was what you could tell from Marlene's massage) there is nothing you can do.

You see Javier approaching, a sheer amount of sweat coats his skin, his shirt clinging to his body. Surprisingly, he’s silent. You had expected him to talk, to pry into your past life. But he seemed to be content with just cleaning for now.

“We should scout the area,” he says when he catches your gaze. “Look for abandoned houses, supplies. Maybe we can find a fruit bush or something and plant some here for food.”

“You do know there’s no way this is going to be like…a peaceful suburb residence right?”

“A man can only dream.”

He wipes a bead of sweat from his brow and your curiosity gets the better of you.

“I need to ask,” you say and he piques with interest. “Why FEDRA? No offense but you don’t exactly look the type.”

“I remember you saying that the first time you saw me.”

“Still surprised you didn’t shoot me then, considering who I was.”

“No offense but you didn’t exactly look the terrorist type. I didn’t know who, or what, you were.”

“We weren’t terrorists.”

“So you guys didn’t plant bombs?” he asks sounding amused. “You didn’t kill people?”

You narrow your eyes, heat pooling under your skin. “Only pieces of shit like you.”

“I thought I didn’t look the type?” he sighs and shakes his head. “Look I’m not going to argue the ethics of it all and you’re definitely right. The things they—we did, FEDRA, It’s inexcusable. But don’t come here and tell me the fireflies were squeaky clean.” he takes the broken bottle from you and throws it into the bag. “I don’t want to fight about this. I don’t want to argue with you all the time. I’m not telling you I’m a good person, I don’t understand why you have to remind me. I know I’m not.”

Silence follows. Your anger shifts into guilt and you push those feelings down. He gives you one last stern look before turning his back to you.

“But neither are you so let’s stop bulshitting ourselves. And if you’re going to start interrogating me about my decisions—about my past— I recommend you not cuss me out a minute later.”

His steps are loud as he leaves. You notice he left the bag behind, meaning that you managed to rile him up enough that he just had to get away from you. You probably deserved that. You don’t understand how he can shove the past aside so carelessly, how he can just forget what he’d done, what you’d done. But he was right, you aren’t a good person. Unlike him, you enjoy believing that you are. Joining the fireflies…it made you believe that you were doing good, that you were better and more noble. The killings you did were for the greater good, the people that ended up under the rubble of explosions were just a sacrifice that needed to be made—you told yourself that, again and again.

Maybe you aren’t as bad as FEDRA but you aren’t that above it either.

You contemplate going after him. Apologize without actually apologizing. You remember a time you used to break the tension by making a joke, how did you do that again? You can’t quite remember.

You shake your head and continue to clear out the debris. He’ll come back. You can think about what to do then.

Javier does eventually come back, but not before the sun had set.

The stars appear one by one, and you hate to admit that you’d worried about him. Being alone is worse than being with someone you hate.

Dirt and dust sit uncomfortably on your skin. After an entire day of work, you managed to clear out the broken glass, rust metals, dead insects, and rodents (you shudder at the memory). Now all of it lays outside, waiting to be taken further away from the train.

“Where were you?” you ask when he arrives, you notice a bow strapped to his back. “And where did you find that?”

“Careful, it almost sounds like you were worried about me.” he grins as if he hadn’t stormed away from you when the sun was at the very top. You decide to let it slide. He lifts two rabbits and your eyes go wide. “I went looking around a bit. Found this in an abandoned cabin, then did some hunting. Assuming you’d be hungry.”

“Thanks. I…actually forgot that we need to eat.”

“Help me build a fire?”

You answer. “Sure.”

The process of building a fire has become as natural as breathing air. If it were a couple of years ago, most people wouldn’t know how to build a fire but that wasn’t the case now. You doubt that anyone who had survived in this world did so by not knowing how to create flames from scraps of wood and dried leaves. Even the children know. That’s just the world they grow up in now.

Your eyes constantly follow him whenever he moves and you can’t decide if it’s due to old habits or is it because of something else. He has a bizarre aura about him. Something that you can’t quite read. He’s soft. You’ve met a lot of FEDRA soldiers back in the day, have argued and fought against them, but you never met someone like him. He has a bite to his words, but you see the kindness swirling in his eyes, suffocating him from the inside out. It’s an odd contrast and makes you feel uncomfortable.

He’s a man that has been beaten down by the world and the system. Him asking you to stay here is his way of giving up on everything he wanted for the world. You can see it as vividly as you see the stars. Just glimpses of his backstory winking down at you.

The flames come alive, roaring and eating the rabbits whole. Javier had taken the job of cooking for himself, patiently watching the fire, he pokes the sizzling meat from time to time.

“You like cooking?” you ask, and your eyes water when the wind blows the ashes into your face.

“I did,” he answers without looking. “I wouldn’t really say I particularly enjoy cooking this.”

You cross your legs as Javier hands you a branch, skewered with rabbit meat. You take a moment to examine the branch, noting the rough texture of the wood and the way it's been stripped of any leaves or twigs. The delicate slices of meat have been threaded onto the branch with care and precision, each one spaced perfectly apart.

He takes his own portion and sits across from you, the flames curling into the air in between. He doesn’t say a word as he takes the first bite. You watch him chew. The flames lick his face, the tip of his nose a dusted red. Javier swallows and when he does you bring a piece to your lips and slowly chew. It’s gamey, slightly sweet. Overall, tastes pretty damn good.

Your lips twitch up to a small smile. Biting into it more eagerly this time, your stomach growls as you swallow.

“This actually tastes pretty good,” you mutter, feeling the fat from the rabbit coating your lips.

“Well, don’t go overboard.”

“It’s the truth.”

When you lower your gaze back down to the meat, you don’t miss the way a smile curls at his lips. The night grows louder and you two finish the rest of your dinner in silence. You hear crickets, the leaves rustling with the wind. A sweet scent touches your nose, something like newly blossomed flowers. You look into the distance and all you can see is darkness.

Your eyes play games with you, shows you shadows of people, tricks you into thinking that you and Javier might’ve been followed by Katleen’s resistance.

You blink.

No.

There’s no one there.

Your pulse skyrockets, your heart beating in your throat. Vibrating, you turn back to Javier only to see that he’s already staring at you. His look is one of understanding, his lips relaxed as his eyes flit around your face.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I just thought—” you look back to the silhouette of trees. “I thought I saw something.”

“The curse of the forest,” he answers, placing a cigarette between his lips. He realizes he doesn’t have his matches with him so he leans forward and lights it from the source. Javier’s face illuminates, and you see splashes of blood, of death. It lingers over his skin, curls around his throat, stains the white of his eyes. “It makes us see things we don’t wanna see.”

“There was this girl,” you suddenly say, swallowing down the gasp that threatened to slip from your lips. He raises an eyebrow and sits back, listening. “Marlene told us that she was immune. I was supposed to meet up with them in Boston.”

“Immune?” he scoffs. “Immune to what?”

“Cordyceps.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, it’s true,” you answer with a sudden need to convince him. You’re not sure why. “She got bit and never turned.”

“Did you actually see it?” he exhales a puff of smoke when you shake your head. He believes he made his point. “So what about this girl? Is there a reason why you’re telling me this or are you just that afraid of the dark?”

You bite into your bottom lip, the sting offering a fleeting relief. “It’s not that I’m afraid. It’s just too silent. It feels…naked.”

“Naked?” he asks, grinning, he steals the cigarette from between his lips and evens his gaze with yours. “We’re covered, cariño. Nothing to worry about.”

“Famous last words,” you tease, ignoring how his tongue rolled as he mumbled cariño. “I guess I’m not used to it yet. There’s always something to fight. Someone is always lurking in the shadows.”

He voices out the rest of your thoughts, “It’s like all the noise and chaos of the world has disappeared, leaving you with nothing but your thoughts.”

You take a deep breath of the crisp forest air.

Emotionally, you want to lean into him. There’s a need in your chest that doesn’t go away but it’s tainted with the anger and the hatred of the organizations that tear you away from each other. He might’ve wanted to do good once, but he chose the wrong side. He thought fireflies were terrorists, and maybe to some you were. However, at least you weren’t fascists and tried to help the people. For better or for worse.

“It doesn’t hurt does it?” he says, guiding your attention back to him. Javier looks up to the sky, takes a deep inhale of smoke. It spills from his lips as he continues. “To have someone by your side.”

No, you think as you get up and head into the train, it doesn’t.

You don’t know what it is this time that wakes you up. There’s no noise. The only thing that convinces you that you’re not in a soundproof cell is the moonlight filtering through the dirty windows. You watch as the pine leaves move together, you’ve always enjoyed the smell of it. The sound of it comes like an afterthought, slowly gaining and getting louder.

You get up when you feel the train shake.

Javier is in the same spot that he always sleeps in, only a couple rows ahead. You move past him and you sneak a glance. His lips twitch and move as he sleeps.

Stepping outside, you take in the same sight as before. It’s still eerie.

Interestingly enough since the fire was gone the darkness seemed lighter somehow. A shimmering blackness. The moonlight probably helped.

Dry earth cracks under your boots. The sound of the trees now mixed with something else, something violent and cruel yet beautiful. You feel the gun on your hip and travel deeper into the forest. The scent of pine and flowers that only bloom during the night stronger. The train is still visible so you don’t worry much about the distance in between. Your fingers brush over the tree trunks, you feel the moss, the sticky resin.

You hear a click.

Click. Click. Click.

Just ahead there’s a clicker, moving with its arms bent and dragging its feet through the soil. Swallowing, you take a slow step back. Then another. And another.

The chill of the night stings your skin, sticky from sweat and burning. The clicker turns in your direction and you stop moving, your one foot suspended in the air. It gains momentum, head twisting and turning. Very slowly you lower your foot, and your heart beats loud in your chest. Surely the clicker hears it.

Fuck.

The sound of the branch snapping underneath you was like a gunshot, reverberating through the stillness of the woods.

You don’t even get the chance to pull out the gun on your hip.

You’re slammed into the dirt, all air forced out of your lungs. You struggle against it but it’s too heavy, too wild to be pushed off of you. The clicker screams into your face, the stench horrid. Bile builds in your throat and coats your stomach. You’re helpless.

It makes a move towards your hands and you pull them away, its full weight suffocating you. Killing you. You can’t breathe.

Tears flood your eyes. You know you’re about to die because you see your life flashing before your eyes, snippets of the past and possible future. You think of the fireflies, of Marlene. You see earth cleansed from the virus.

You see Javier. He’s smiling, leading you in a dance around the wilting flames. You don’t push the thoughts away. You take them as a blessing in moments of lingering death.

A gunshot echoes. You hear the bullet cutting through the air, whistling in the night. It sinks into the clicker’s shoulder, you hear another one, this time the bullet strikes its head. The clicker collapses. Before you can shove the lifeless vessel away, it’s being lifted.

You can breathe again.

Javier is standing before you, his brows creased with worry. His lips are parted as if he’s about to say something but you beat him to it. You’re still gasping for air when you speak.

“You had a gun.”

“Yeah,” he heaves, sweat clinging to his chest and moonlight trickling down his skin. “I had a fucking gun.”

Oh man, you guys have no idea how excited I am to finally be sharing the first chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed it, I'll probably be posting a new chapter every Saturday (the first 3 chapters will def go up and Saturdays, after that, if everything goes well, I'll continue it the same way)

A few thank you's are in order; @pedrito-friskito , @inklore , @fuckyeahdindjarin and @pedrorascal who listened to me go on and on about this and for their endless moral support ♥︎ and thank you to @laters-gators who beta'd this.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #fedra!javier p #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #narcos x reader #narcos fanfiction #firefly!reader #tlou x reader

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netegf · 2 years ago

Text

violet chemistry (i)

pairing: aged up!ao'nung x f!metkayina reader

plot: you and ao'nung attempt to regain control in your lives by fake-dating. the irony is... this is fated.

word count: 2k

a/n: my take on a fake-dating, friends to lovers, best friend's brother au??? i want to make this a series, but i think it will be short and sweet <3 no particular warnings, but this takes place roughly 10 years after atwow (& neteyam is alive 🥰).

Nothing about the moment makes sense. It’s an agonizing kind of relief, which is somehow a feeling that exists. It comes in Ao'nung's hand brushing a strand of hair from your face which you would have preferred stayed. His knee tickling yours as you attempt to control your uneven breathing, years of water training out the window as he casts you a sideways glance in preparation of the charade that’s about to begin.

As Ao’nung dislodges a beaded anklet from a poorly-woven pouch that you’ve made for him, clan members pass each other impish smiles like they know something you don’t.

The trouble is, reality is quite opposite. You know something they don’t.

Everything they think they've seen over the last few weeks – Ao’nung’s only slightly tender gaze, the rap of his three-fingered hand on your family’s marui pod before the end of night, his surprisingly charming gifts which match the accessories in your hair – is a farce.

Ao’nung watches you fumble with the anklet three times before he breaks. You sit in the sand, taking note of the eyes that linger over the two you.

“I can’t watch this anymore.” He grumbles, taking your calf in his hand and placing it firmly in his lap. Ao’nung ties the flimsy jewelry around your ankle in a single neat knot with a stupidly smug look on his face that seems to say ‘see how easy that was?’ and it makes you want to shove him hard in the chest.

Like he can see those violent wheels in your head turning, he clicks his tongue. “Nuh-uh.” He chides. “They’re watching.”

Spending time with the Olo'eyktan’s son, it seemed there was always someone watching.

You nod, but Ao’nung doesn’t miss the way your eyes roll slightly. It made his chest clench in a way that felt uncomfortably new. By this age, he’d really hoped there were no new feelings left to encounter. Nothing quite like this, sinking through him like a slab of metal through water.

“They’re always watching.” You retort, blowing a loose strand of hair up from your face. “When else do I get to roll my eyes at you? All this pent up anger is gonna burn a hole through my stomach.”

Ao’nung laughs a hearty laugh that you know is meant for your ears, but he smiles for everyone to see. Gently leaning his muscular shoulder on your own, he shrugs, and you take it that he doesn’t really have an answer.

That seemed to be the case a lot lately.

When Ao’nung first proposed the idea to you, he was shocked at the ease to which you complied. He was expecting more resistance, the way there’d always been in your relationship – a splash of the water to the face when he bragged about finally training with tsurak, a cheap and sarcastic laugh at one of his not-so-funny jokes which warmed him and vexed him at the same time.

He knew why he had asked. His parents were slowly but surely introducing the topic of mating into conversation and it was stealing all the air from his lungs like a vindictive little vacuum.

Talking about mates made everything feel so real. So heavy. Like he’d lived his whole life to get to this point and suddenly it was here and he’d do anything to go back and live one of those light-hearted days again. With you, and everyone else, playing because you could afford to.

He asked you to get his parents off his back for a bit – just until he could find it within himself to live out his destiny. Still, he couldn’t understand why you had said yes.

“If I’m so hard to be around,” Ao’nung jokes, but not really. “Why’d you even agree to this in the first place?”

You pull your knees to your chest, let the cool pieces of sea glass strung onto his anklet mediate your body temperature. “Same reason as you, really.”

Ao’nung quirks an eyebrow, turning his head to meet your eyes, but he’s met with resistance. Your eyes are glued to the rounds of your knees, a small bite to your lip that stirs a barrelling feeling in his stomach. He waits for you to elaborate with his forehead pinched.

“My parents want me to find a mate.” You say simply. “At first, it was easy to convince them otherwise. I could say I was focusing on completing my rites.”

He passes a contemplative glance. “And now?”

“Now, they have suggestions.”

Suggestions. The word felt sticky in his mouth and birthed a new feeling.

Ao’nung knew your parents. They were dedicated members of the clan – your mother, a celebrated hunter for her sharp mind in battle and borderline overwhelming tenacity, and your father, renowned for his artful craftsmanship of weaponry. They loved you well, but were a tad controlling. He could tell it bothered you – how tight their reigns were.

“And you know me. I wouldn’t be any good… at that.”

You were right, he did know you. But it was the second part of that statement that was causing him full-body grief, though it’d be hard for him to pinpoint exactly why. Ao’nung feels his mouth open in objection, but you continue without waiting for him, like you always do.

“Anyways, I said yes because I need to do this. For myself.” You wrap your arms around your knees and gently press your chin atop them. “I don’t even know if I want a mate… but if I do, I-I need it to be my choice. And I need them to understand that.”

The heat Ao’nung feels is suddenly everywhere, but he nods all the same.

You shuffle under his hot gaze and let out a hefty breath that staggers as it falls. Every molecule in the air felt heavier and it had a lot to do with the fact that things were a lot different now than they were ten years ago. Ten years ago, when you’d joined Olo'eyktan’s children in teaching the Sully’s the ways of the Metkayina. When Kiri had joined your life-long friendship with Tsireya, and you’d pined for Ao’nung as inconsistently as high-tide, sometimes early in the day, sometimes late, but always so long as there was a moon.

The you of ten years ago wouldn’t have been able to fathom the situation you were in now, but the you of today knew that there were worse people to pretend to court than your best friend’s fickle, but well-meaning, brother. Some nights it felt like you were strong enough to do this. Other nights it singed at your fingertips, leaving ash on your sleeping mat.

According to Kiri, love doesn’t just fade like that. Maybe she was right and some completely sensitive part of you, trudging water from the past, was eager to have him in whatever capacity you could even if it was destined to disappoint. Maybe Tsireya was right and you wanted to hurt a little.

“I want to be more brave. Like you.” You finish, and Ao’nung feels a teasing shiver run down his spine. Like Eywa blowing air down his back.

“Brave?” He snorts. “My body just moves. I don’t know if I would call that brave.”

Ao’nung wasn’t sure how he felt hearing you undersell yourself. It was definitely bad, but it was also confusing. He’d never known anyone more daring than you. You butted his hard-headedness in a way that no one else seemed willing to. You’d been known to entertain Lo’ak’s recklessness more than a few times, flying ikran when you were born for water, and it annoyed him to no end. In most of his childhood memories, you were somewhere in the foreground, doing something that he’d wanted in on, but would never say so.

Some part of him thinks you always knew that – which is why most of those memories finish with you tugging him by the arm and pulling him into the fun – often motivated by his hard-to-earn, but more than worth it smile – he was young, painfully begrudging, but entirely grateful, and he hoped you knew that.

In any case, brave was a word he reserved for that starry-eyed girl that spent many sleepless nights outside her marui pod and on the beach, retelling him fantastical Earth stories that she'd heard Jake Sully once tell Tuk. He couldn’t forget those nights if he tried – and if he could, he wouldn’t.

He remembers you, blinking the sleep away, heels buried in the sand in a way much like you were sitting currently. Except back then, you would tell him about ‘once upon a time’ – something humans said before they told stories about princesses and goblins – things that didn’t exist, but he supposed that’s what made them so compelling.

The Metkayina had a similar phrase for their stories, but the words were different. In English, the best translation would have been: ‘there was, there wasn’t’. He’d seen in you that urge to escape when you left the Na’vi words behind any time you told him a story thereafter.

“I guess I just feel stuck.”

That was something Ao’nung could relate to. He follows your eye line, set on a group of barnacles deadlocked to a slab of rock. With an unwavering hand, he breaks one off and chucks it into the sand in front of you.

“Then we pull a little harder." He casts a gentle, but stern look. "Right?”

“Right.” You force a smile over the dull burn of tears. Then you bite back a laugh. “What are you? The barnacle whisperer?"

Ao’nung groans. “Don’t call me that. Please.”

A small laugh rumbles in his chest, and he takes the opportunity to look at you head-on. He lingers on your slightly damp eyes and nudges your side.

“You, uh, look like you’re getting broken up with.” He says in a nervous whisper, scratching the back of his neck. Eyes flickering between you and the onlookers still out on this part of the reef.

You bite your lip, shifting slightly closer to him. “Can’t have that, can we?”

You sneak a quick peak at the eyes glued on the two of you, fingers trembling faintly, but you know you’re nervous for a different reason. There was no going back after this. But you force a deep breath of air so cold that it felt herbal, with a new-found confidence – you didn’t want to go back. Slowly, your hands, once planted in the sand, drift up to snake around Ao’nung’s neck and his breath catches in his throat. He knows the clan is watching – knows you’re doing this because the clan is watching, but he feels his heart beat erratically as if his body can’t tell the difference.

You eye him inquisitively, in a way that he knows means you’re asking for permission, and he nods whilst internally urging his jaw to fall slack. His lips to do something other than wait for you.

Your lips touch his in a way that makes him gasp, and then again, and again, when you swallow his heavy breaths. He feels like a quick-filling cup that you won’t let spill. Against all his self-restraint, his hands tremble around your waist when you pull away from him.

“Is that what that feels like?” You murmur, feeling loose-limbed and heady. He thinks he'll faint if he acknowledges that it's your first.

“Y-yeah.”

But Ao’nung knows he’s lying. He’s never felt anything like this in his life – let alone in a kiss, and he’s suddenly concerned that you'll remember his tells. Tinge of purple on his ears, lightly flaring nostrils. If you notice, you don’t say so, and he’s grateful for it.

He clumsily pulls the heat of his body away, knowing something inside him has changed, and mumbles some kind of non-excuse about having to help his father out before eclipse. He says so whilst avoiding your eyes, though you wouldn’t have noticed anyways. Too busy ruminating in the aftershocks of his kiss – there was no going back – and mostly because those lips shot an arrow dead through the idea that there could be someone else for you.

Wordlessly, you nod and walk away like his retreat is contagious – trying hard not to, but still keeling at the hope that he could feel there was something there. A spark, a desire, a small flash of yearning you swear you saw in his eyes but disappeared too quick to know for sure.

Something that was, then wasn’t.

reblogs + tags are always appreciated 🪐🩷🫶🏼 i hope you enjoyed! as it stands, i'm working on more parts in the hopes of making this a mini-series, but def lmk if you want more hehe!

#ao'nung x reader #aonung x reader #atwow x reader #aonung #ao'nung #atwow #avatar 2 #idk felt a lil sad today so i wanna post this as a distraction

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fortheloveofarchons · 7 months ago

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Dan Heng is acting drunk in front of Caelus

C.W. - Kiss and make out - Smut - Caelus being a menace - Dragon Dan Heng / Vidyadhara Dan Heng - Top Dan Heng & Bottom Caelus - Fluff and smut

As the small party is about to come to an end in the Astral Express, Caelus takes one last bite of his cream puffs on his plate, and bids a goodnight to everyone.

“Sleep well, Caelus.” Himeko, who after settles her cup of coffee on the table, replies kindly to him. “Hope you get some good sleep.”

“Sweet dreams, Caelus!” March 7th waves to him enthusiastically, a small chunk of frosting lies in the corner of her smile. “Let’s host another party like this someday again!”

“I know we’ve only been on this journey for one year,” Welt adjusts his glasses up his nose, and gives Caelus a head pat, because that’s what Caelus deserves! “But I am glad to see that you have been improving a lot on your journey as a trailblazer. Oh, by the way, could you check up on Dan Heng before you go to bed? Dan Heng may have taken a bit too many glasses this time around.”

“Don’t worry Mr Yang.” Caelus nods, accepting his head pat. “I’ll go check him immediately.”

As Caelus enters Dan Heng’s room, he notices the dim, ambient lighting below the floor, making it look like luminescent ocean waves. Dan Heng is sprawled on his bed, appearing noticeably tipsy. His eyes were half-lidded and unfocused, his lips slightly open ajar. His cheeks were flushed, and he seemed to be fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Dan Heng?” Caelus walks towards him, putting his hand on Dan Heng’s forehead. Thankfully, his forehead isn’t too hot or too cold at the moment. “Are you okay? You left a bit early during the party.”

“Hmm, me– Oof!” Dan Heng attempts to prop himself up on one elbow, but ends up sinking back into the pillow with a soft, helpless smile. “I’m just a bit tired from all of the partying, so I figured I’d go to bed early… I didn’t notice you until you came in. Is there something you need from me?”

“Yes!” Caelus gasps from seeing Dan Heng’s smile. A smile that Cold Dragon Young doesn’t show most of their time together! “Your wellbeing!”

Dan Heng’s movements were slow and uncoordinated, and his normally stern facial features were softened by the effects of alcohol. His head lolls slightly to one side as he looks up, his eyes squinting, struggling to focus on the grey-haired guy in front of him.

“I can’t exactly go to sleep with you hovering over me like that…” Dan Heng stretches out his arm, his fingers curling in a beckoning gesture, inviting Caelus closer. His breathing was uneven, a mix of deep sighs and short breaths, indicative of his relaxed yet disoriented state. “Come closer...”

Caelus sits next to Dan Heng on the bed, concerned mingling with affection in his golden gaze, and gently brushes a stray lock of black hair from Dan Heng’s forehead.

Caelus heart aches slightly, seeing Dan Heng so vulnerable for– aeon knows how long has Dan Heng ever opened his emotions up to Caelus and the other express members, but Caelus couldn’t help but smile at Dan Heng’s trust towards him even in this inebriated state.

“You don’t need to help me, but I appreciate it a lot.” Dan Heng holds Caelus’s hand that’s on his forehead, giving it a kiss on the palm. “I just drank a little… too much. If my speech is slurred and if I say some strange things out of my mouth– it's because I'm impaired, and it doesn't reflect who I am when I’m sober.”

“Well,” Caelus replies with what sounds to Dan Heng like a mix of a cough and a laugh. “I kinda like you in this state.”

“Hmm? Why would you want me like this?” Even in this inebriated state, the gears in Dan Heng’s head would shift and turn, already coming to a conclusion. “Is it because... You wish to see me relax like this? I don’t see why that would be appealing to someone like you, but then again… you are always a little odd.”

“Hey!” Caelus immediately retracts his hand, yet laughs once more from Dan Heng’s honesty. “You really are rude, Cold Dragon Young!”

Dan Heng, upon seeing this rejection, immediately summons his Vidyadhara form, his bright teal horns appearing on his head. His tail, sleek and covered in bright teal scales that shimmered in the light, coils Caelus’s waist, pulling him closer to him, their bodies softly angled towards each other. Dan Heng’s hair immediately flows long until it reaches the quilt of the bed, and he hugs Caelus from behind, his face nestled in between Caelus’s shoulder and neck.

“Let me just…” Dan Heng mumbles. “Lace my fingers with yours for a minute.”

Dan Heng’s fingers slide between Caelus’s, weaving together in a gesture that is both tender and deeply connective. Although Dan Heng’s grip is firm, it is not constrictive. The warmth of Dan Heng’s hand seeps in Caelus’s, creating a shared heat.

“Your fingers are a bit cold, was the air-conditioning a bit too much for you?” Dan Heng’s thumb strokes the back of Caelus’s hand in slow, lazy circles. His tail slowly removes itself from Caelus. “I didn't see you eating much earlier at the party by the way, aren’t you always hungry?”

“This time, not really.” Caelus’s eyes, soft and unguarded, trace the contours of Dan Heng’s hand. “I had some roast chicken, tons of sweet sodas, and some cream puffs. Though, I’ll admit that I only ate two plates while you all ate more than three. I guess I was just so exhausted from today’s mission that I couldn’t eat much.”

“I know we'll have leftovers tomorrow morning, but they'll hardly be fresh anymore.” There’s a slight curve to Dan Heng’s lips as he gazes at Caelus. While not quite a full smile, but a small, contented one. “Y’know, I took some of the little treats on a dessert plate with me.”

“Really?” A glint of excitement glows in Caelus’s eyes, looking left and right of the room. “Where?”

Just then, Dan Heng’s dragon tail carefully coils around a cream puff, and hands it over to Caelus. Caelus tries to grab it with his free hand, but Dan Heng’s tail is pulled further away from Caelus, and Caelus couldn’t even reach it.

Dan Heng’s tail sways with an almost hypnotic rhythm, which confuses the grey-haired trailblazer. “Dan Heng, what are you doing?”

“Allow me to feed you, Caelus.” Dan Heng whispers near his ear, his warm breath tickling Caelus’s skin.

Before Caelus could even say anything, he could feel another hand on him– this time, covering his eyes, obscuring his vision.

“Knowing now you might come in search of me,” Dan Heng continues to whisper. “I had to entice you.”

“Dan Heng–”

“Open your mouth, Caelus.”

Caelus had no other option but to obey in this so-called "precarious" scenario, leaving his mouth open just a little. The path is not smooth; the dessert wobbles precariously, threatening to drop as Caelus’s breath catches in anticipation. Dan Heng smirks, enjoying the playful tension, his movements both teasing and sensual.

As the desert reaches Caelus's lips, a small dollop of cream falls, smudging on his cheek. Dan Heng then leans in, his tongue slowly licking the cream and Caelus’s warm skin. As Dan Heng is now in his Vidyadhara form, his tongue is different– longer and more flexible than a human tongue, possessing a slightly forked tip that is reminiscent of serpentine creatures, like snakes and dragons.

Caelus could feel that Dan Heng’s tongue had an unusual warmth, almost as if it carried the Vidyadhara’s inner fire.

From what he can remember from Dan Heng’s daily recaps from the research of his data bank, this warmth can be felt keenly upon contact during the process of mating, adding a layer of intimacy and intensity to any interaction.

Mating… Mating?!?!

Caelus could feel the forked tips of Dan Heng’s tongue gently brush his bottom lip, creating a light, tickling sensation that can be both teasing and tender.

“Dan Heng, wait! We can’t do this, you’re not sober– Hnnngghh!”

After tasting and swallowing the cream puff– which consists of Caelus struggling to bite it due to the cream puff being shoved inside of his mouth, Caelus could feel his grip on Dan Heng's hand loosening, and a finger touched his lips as Dan Heng called in a gentle voice.

“Caelus, I assure you I’m just a bit tipsy. Don’t you remember what I told you before?”

“What?”

Caelus parted his lips slightly, allowing Dan Heng to put his finger inside his mouth before slowly licking it. Because Caelus’s eyes remained closed, the sensation of Dan Heng’s delicate finger inside the warmth of his mouth, teasingly playing with his round, soft tongue, was more noticeable.

One finger was not enough.

A short while later, a second one squeezed in. Dan Heng’s eyes glitters as he watches Caelus trying hard to suck the two fingers deeper inside, licking them warm and wet.

Dan Heng then pulls his fingers out, guiding them lower on Caelus’s body.

“Vidyadharas don’t get drunk that easily.”

Caelus had not realised how his lower body was being undressed already, leaving nothing but his white shirt on…

A pang of mixed emotions stirs within him, urging him to take action.

► (Reject Dan Heng and push him away!)

► (Reluctantly accept his offer.)

► (I mean… dragons have two pillars! Take this opportunity to understand their anatomy!)

Before Caelus could even think of option one, Dan Heng begins to lay a broken and dense thicket of kisses on his neck, like a chick pecking at rice.

Feeling this warm and wet moment from Dan Heng, Caelus picks option three...

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