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sirenpearldust · 3 months ago

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Found You 3

Baby Daddy Azriel!

Series masterlist ⋆ Part two ⋆ Part four

Pair: Azriel x Spring Court! Reader

Word count: 4.369

Warning: violence, domestic abuse

Summary: Chaos enters Spring

The clock was ticking and your eyes were on it. He was late - again.

You and Amias had been waiting for Azriel, he should have arrived hours ago. It was already ten past twelve.

“Mama, is Daddy coming?”

“Yes, darling. He is probably just busy for a bit longer.”

Azriel’s visits had been irregular over the past few weeks. Sometimes, he sent letters explaining that work was keeping him away.

Nine days had passed since Amias had last seen him.

You could see the sadness in his eyes. He tried to hide it, but you saw the unshed tear.

His toys laid forgotten around him, his small wings were drooping on the floor and his shadows curled around him, just like Azriel’s always did.

He could barely sleep the night before, too excited about training with his father and spending time with him. At dawn, he had woken you up just to gush about how cool his father was- how tall, how strong.

You had smiled, glad that Azriel had been a good father since getting to know Amias. But still, you remained cautious. The irregular visits were starting to wear on you.

Where is he?

He could have at least sent a letter?!

A knock echoed at the door.

“Come in,” you said, hoping, for your son’s sake, that it was news of his father.

Instead, a servant stepped inside, bowing slightly.

“My lady, the Autumn Court heir has arrived and requests an audience. He says it is of utmost importance.”

You exhaled sharply.

What now?

Nodding, you rose to your feet, silently praying this had nothing to do with Azriel’s disappearance.

“Nara, take care of Amias,” you instructed.

But before you could take a step, Amias stood up, his small frame trembling. Tears spilled down his red cheeks as he ran to you, clinging tightly to your leg.

“Mommy,” he whimpered.

“Baby, it’s okay. I promise I’m coming back,” you whispered, running a gentle hand through his dark curls.

But he only sobbed harder, his little hands gripping your blue dress with all the strength he had.

“D-Dont… please. Daddy is already gone… please don’t leave too,” he hiccuped, his voice breaking, as he sobbed louder.

Your heart burned. Kneeling down, you cupped his tear-streaked face.

“Amias, listen to me. Mommy is just going to talk to Uncle Eris and see if he knows something about Daddy, okay? I won’t gone long.”

He kept crying, though and guilt sank deep into your chest. This was your fault. You should have been more attentive, should have reassured him more, should have…

You swallowed hard. Now he thinks you’ll disappear too and that also because you were busy with work.

Something tugged at you, an uneasy feeling.

“Nara, please take care of him,” you said, forcing yourself to step back.

She gently tried prying him from your arms, but he would not let go.

“No, mommy p-please d-don’t”

His hand stretched out to you as he tried getting out of her arms.

You were sick seeing your son like this. Anger burned beneath your skin, you were angry at your self, at Azriel, at life and your duties.

You turned on your heel with a heavy heart, storming toward the room where Eris was waiting, your patience long gone.

⋆ ♡ ⋆

Stepping into the room, you froze, stunned by what you saw.

What in the abomination is this?

Your jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as you glared at Eris.

“I left my son alone for this?” you bit out, tilting your head toward the older Archeron sister standing beside him. Her head was ducked down and you could only see the mop of light brown hair she shared with her younger sister. It fell in a messy low bun. The resemblance between them was striking.

“Let me explain,” Eris said quickly, positioning himself between the both of you.

“You have five minutes. Do you understand?” Your voice was sharp, edged with barely restrained fury.

Turning you glared at Nesta Archeron, adding, “And you’d better not cause trouble in my court, like your sister”

Without waiting for a response, you turned. Eris followed you to your office, a space where no one could overhear or interrupt.

The moment the door shut behind you, you crossed your arms.

“Talk.”

“She needs to stay here, she can’t stay anywhere else,” Eris said, his tone clipped.

You arched a brow, then let out a sharp laugh, slow-clapping your hands.

“Are you serious, Eris?” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

“Having an Archeron in Spring started this whole mess in the first place.”

“It’s different this time,” he said, but you only laughed bitterly.

Walking toward him, you raised your voice, pointing your finger sharply at his chest, pushing him back. His jaw clenched, a muscle in his cheek twitching, he hated when you did that.

“She’s mated to the Night Court’s general, for gods’ sake. Have you lost your mind. Hiding her here, kidnapping her, will bring war to both our doorsteps. I have Amias to think about for Gods sake.”

“I know but I swear, it’s not the same,” Eris insisted.

“It is.” Your voice sharpened.

“Have you forgotten what happened the last time? When the night court whore, her sister might I add, was here?”

Eris hesitated. “That’s… different.”

“How the fuck is this different?” Your brow furrowed.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his disheveled red hair.

“Because Rhysand wants her dead.”

Your confusion deepened. “What? What do you mean he wants her dead? She’s his mates sister?”

“I know. It’s just things have been happening,” Eris muttered, his frustration evident. He licked his lips before sinking into a chair. For the first time, you truly looked at him, his usually pristine clothes were wrinkled, his hair an unkempt mess.

“What the hell is going on?” you demanded.

He sighed. “We’ve been exchanging letters for a while. And that brute she’s mated to-let’s just say he hasn’t been kind to her.”

Your stomach twisted. “Be specific, Eris. I’m going to live with her, I need to know how I’m gonna take care of her.”

You meant your words, your mother had been through abuse in her first marriage, before she met your father.

His amber eyes met yours, filled with something between anger and sadness.

“They’ve kept her locked in that house, forced her to work with him, train against her will, to endure his verbal abuse.”

You exhaled sharply. “Eris, if your feelings are involved he could challenge you to a blood duel, and what if she changes her mind and wants to go back?”

“She doesn’t want to go back, he’s been cruel, they’ve been cruel. He wants children, he tried impregnating her, guilting her into not drinking the potion. She was miserable there.

She left them a goodbye letter saying she fled to the Continent and found a man while working. No one knows she’s here. No one knows I’m involved. She covered her tracks. Lucien is taking care of the rest.”

You leaned against your desk, rubbing your temples.

“She won’t be safe in Spring if they find out.”

“Then hide her in your manor, just until I figure something out.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You mean until you figure out how to deal with your father which, might I add, Night is supposed to be helping you with.”

Your voice dropped into a harsh whisper.

“Eris, you need them as your ally. I’ve been talking to Helion, but he hasn’t been responding well to this plan of ours. He’s worried about your mother’s life and now with Nesta in the game,” you said, your voice firm, as you crossed your arms.

“He is not supposed to be involved, he’s at fault for her misery in the first place. I have everything under control,” Eris snapped, frustration evident in his tone.

You laughed bitterly.

“You just showed me how much control you have. Helion needs to be involved because your mother is his mate, just like Nesta is Cassian’s mate. Do you see how many problems this might cause?”

His glare was sharp, his jaw clenched in anger. “And what about your mate?” he seethed.

Your powers flared to life, vines curling slowly behind your back, twisting with an almost dangerous grace.

“That’s a new low, Eris,” you said coldly. “Mind your tongue.”

The room pulsed with the intensity of your anger, your gaze locked with his as the vines continued to unravel.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have.”

Eris clenched his jaw and he didn’t argue further.

You exhaled. “ She can stay, under the condition that she follows my rules.”

“She will,” Eris said.

“She won’t be harmed. She’ll be treated with dignity and respect. I promise”

Eris stood up, stepping closer. His expression softened as he placed his hands gently around you.

Then, with a quiet exhale, he hugged you. It was hesitant at first, as if he was afraid you might still push him away. But when you didn’t, he tightened his grip, pulling you tighter.

He needed the reassurance and to be honest you needed it too. You were touch starved.

The last time this had happened, you were both sixteen, young, reckless and untouched by the burdens that now were weighing on you.

That night, in the quiet of the woods, you had made a bargain to always protect eachother and be loyal to one another.

Now, years later, everything was different. And yet, for the briefest moment, as you stood in his arms, it felt like nothing had changed at all, like it was before the duties and the wars that had hardened you both.

But for just a second, you let yourself rest in the warmth of his embrace.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“You know I still owe you Amias’ life and mine,” you murmured.

Eris nodded, understanding in his gaze.

“Tell him I love him,” he added softly, “and that I’m sorry I brought no presents this time.”

“I will.”

You exhaled, stepping back. “Now go, before I kick you out.”

Eris smirked. “Fine. I’ll come back later tonight.”

With that, you turned and walked out, making your way back to Amias.

⋆ ♡ ⋆

As you entered the room, your heart clenched. He had fallen asleep on the floor beside his toys, his small frame curled up, his wings enveloping his body as if he was hiding. His eyes fluttered open as he sensed your presence, his shadows slithered toward you, wrapping around your wrists as they tugged you closer to him.

“Has his father arrived?” you asked Nara quietly.

She shook her head. “Not even a letter, my lady.”

You swallowed the frustration rising in your throat.

Kneeling beside Amias, you gently brushed a curl from his damp cheek.

“Amias,” you whispered.

He stirred, slowly sitting up, his puffy, red-rimmed eyes locking onto yours. He must have cried himself to sleep.

Guilt twisted in your chest. You cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mommy had to talk with Uncle Eris.”

He blinked up at you. “Uncle Eris?”

You smiled faintly. “He’s sorry he couldn’t stay and he loves you very much.”

Amias nodded, rubbing at his tired eyes. Then, hesitantly, he asked, “Where is Daddy?”

You winced.

“Your father is coming later tonight,” you assured him.

“But he’ll make it up to you. He loves you very much, angel.”

Another small nod. But this time, there was hesitation in his expression, doubt creeping in.

“Will he come back?”

“Of course,” you said gently. “It’s just work.”

He nodded again, but sadness lingered in his gaze.

You pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, my sweet boy.”

He curled into your arms and as you held him. The thought of leaving him again, even just to deal with your new guest made your chest tighten.

But there was no choice.

You had a mess to clean up.

⋆ ♡ ⋆

Before you even reached the room, you could hear the shouting.

Multiple voices clashed over one another, servants hurriedly rushing away and power crackled in the air like a brewing storm.

Azriel was back.

Eris didn’t know about your bargain. You scolded yourself for the oversight, for not anticipating this.

Heart pounding, you pushed forward, stepping into the chaos.

The scene before you was nothing short of a battlefield. The eldest Archeron sister stood behind Eris, half-hidden. Meanwhile, Lucien and Azriel were locked in a furious shouting match, their magic glowing.

Without hesitation, you slammed the heavy door shut.

Silence.

All heads snapped toward you, the tension thick enough to suffocate. The only sound left in the room was the sharp clack of your heels against the marble floor as you strode forward.

Azriel was a mess. His leathers were torn, his face bruised and bloodied, his normally pristine hair disheveled. He looked like he’d been in a fight, a bad one. But none of the others bore a single scratch. Whatever had happened, it had been before he came here.

You came to a stop in front of him, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. His massive wings were flared wide, casting a dark shadow over you. His golden-hazel eyes, now looking like liquid gold were locked onto Eris, his shadows writhing around him like vipers, ready to strike.

“Azriel,” you whispered.

He didn’t move. Didn’t look at you. His gaze stayed fixed on Eris, his fingers twitching at his sides.

Turning away from him, you addressed the others.

“How the fuck can he enter?” Lucien demanded, his voice sharp.

“I will explain it later,” you promised, exhaling through your nose.

“That was an oversight on my part.”

Eris stood firm, Nesta’s hand clasped tightly in his. She pressed herself further behind him, looking fragile, she was too thin, to small. Your gaze flicked back to Eris, searching his face for the anger you knew was brewing beneath his carefully controlled expression.

“I will take care of it,” you said, voice steady.

“I promise you, nothing is as it seems right now. She is safe and welcome here.”

The bargain between you pulsed, a reminder to Eris of the vow you had made.

Eris’s jaw tensed, his features hardening for a moment before something in him relented. He believed you. Even if his body remained coiled tight with tension, his grip on Nesta’s hand loosened just slightly.

“Lex will see that you are accommodated, undisturbed and left in peace,” you said evenly. Your voice left no room for argument. “No one will harm you in my home.”

The three walked out and Azriel moved to follow, but you grabbed his wrist gently.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice firm yet soft.

His jaw clenched in frustration. He didn’t pull away, but his posture stiffened, as if he were ready to break.

When the door clicked shut behind them, Azriel’s eyes focused solely on you. His wings were still spread wide, his golden eyes locked onto yours, intense and piercing.

You felt small in front of him, towering over you like a giant, but you felt no fear. His presence was overwhelming, yet strangely comforting. His shadows reached out, enveloping your body in a cool, almost soothing embrace. They were like a second skin.

“Sit,” you said, motioning toward the chair opposite you.

He hesitated for a moment before lowering himself into the seat, his body still tense as if every muscle was on alert.

Your gaze scanned his body as you took in the damage. His knuckles were swollen, the deep bruises darkening his skin. His body was covered in cuts and bruises.

Kneeling infront of him you softly took his hand, gently healing it with your magic. You moved slowly, deliberately, feeling the power flow through you, soothing the pain in his injured hand.

“Where were you?” you asked quietly, focusing on his hand, avoiding looking into his eyes for a moment.

His voice was rough as he answered, his gaze never leaving you.

“Searching.”

“For the eldest, I presume?” you asked, your fingers intertwined with his.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours as you worked, your touch soft but deliberate.

You bent his hand gently to assess the damage.

Azriel liked the quiet, how quiet his head was with you right now. His heart began to pound, a realisation dawning on him. He liked the way you touched him, how soft and careful you were, just like you used to be.

Bending his hand back, you asked, “Does it hurt?”

He shook his head, though the faint wince in his expression suggested otherwise.

Your face softened, but your words were anything but gentle.

“The next time you come like this into my house, I will skin you and string you up for everyone to see.”

Azriel’s breath caught at the sharpness of your tone, his chest tightening. Before he could respond, you interrupted him, your voice cutting through the moment.

“Let me heal your face,” you said quietly, your voice softer again.

You reached up to touch his face, your magic cold against his burning wounds. As your fingers grazed his skin, he closed his eyes, the sensation both soothing and unsettling. He shouldn’t feel good about this, about the way your touch calmed him, about the way it made something stir deep inside him. He had thought of you as someone who had wronged him, someone he should stay away from. But now, something about your presence made him feel a pull that he couldn’t explain, like he had to tell you everything.

“Cassian,” he said, his voice rough, barely a whisper as his mind swirled with confusion.

“What?” you asked softly, focusing on his face as your magic worked.

“It was Cassian,” he said again, this time his voice strained.

“He’s the one who did this to me.”

“Why would he…?” you asked, still working on his face, your fingers lingering near his lips.

Blood was dripping down his chin, he must have bit it open again.

Azriel’s breath was shallow as he struggled to make sense of his emotions.

“He’s going mad,” he murmured, his voice tight.

“Because of Nesta?” you asked.

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed, his tone bitter, almost defeated.

Your fingers lingered a moment longer, pressing gently to his lips, trying to heal the blood that still trickled from the cut. His heartbeat quickened, every nerve responding to your touch. His eyes met yours and for a split second, the world seemed to fall away. Desire stirred deep inside him he just hoped you wouldn’t notice. He wanted to kiss you, feel your lips against his once again, to stop pretending everything had been fine. But that would complicate everything. You would kill him if he tried.

He had been dreaming of you since the moment he saw you again, after four long years. And now, as your touch lingered on his skin, it felt like he had been pulled back in time

Before everything went wrong.

His thoughts were interrupted by your words, cutting through his thought.

“That your High Lord said he would execute her?” you asked, your voice bringing him back to the present.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely audible, breathless.

“Azriel,” your voice was soft, a gentle whisper that seemed to draw him in, your words wrapping around him like a siren’s call. He shut his eyes, groaning quietly, hoping you wouldn’t notice how his body reacted to your closeness.

“It was Rhys, not Cassian,” he responded, his voice hoarse.

“I don’t think a mate would leave another if they felt safe, right?” you pressed, your gaze steady, a challenge in your voice.

Azriel’s eyes met yours again, his breath hitching. He noticed the way your fingers glided over his skin, tenderly healing the cuts Cassian had left. His face was swollen, bruised, luckily, his jaw wasn’t broken and it seemed most of the wounds would heal fairly easily.

“He’s been kind of an asshole to her,” Azriel muttered, his voice rough as he tried to explain. “He’s been working and stressed a—”

“Would you have treated your mate like this?” you interrupted, the question almost too soft, too easy for him to answer.

You cradled his face gently, the light from your magic casting a soft blue glow around the room, healing his injuries as you continued to hold him. His eyes stayed locked with yours as you worked, his breath steadying despite the chaos inside. He felt lightheaded with how close you were to him.

“Never,” Azriel whispered, his voice tight. He licked his dry lips, his gaze never wavering from yours.

“Then why would it be okay for him to?”

Azriel swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. You weren’t wrong. Everything inside him wanted to defend Cassian, to defend the bond between mates, but the truth was hard to deny. He had failed to protect Nesta.

“I know your brother is in pain, but so is she,” you said softly, you almost had him.

Azriel’s jaw tightened beneath your touch, his breath quickening. His scarred hands moved to gently hold your wrists, as if to remove them from his face, but he winced at the pain.

Gently, you moved your hand over his chest, your fingers tracing his worn leathers. With delicate care, you unbuttoned his jacket, exposing the bruised skin underneath. His broken ribs made it difficult to breathe, you could see his discomfort. You began to heal him, the cool light of your magic glowing softly against his injured skin.

As the adrenaline slowly left his body, the pain seemed to hit him all at once. His eyes closed briefly, but when they opened again, they locked onto yours.

“You won’t tell them where she is,” you whispered, your voice unwavering.

His breath caught as your hands continued to work, moving to the buttons of his clothes, carefully unfastening his belt and unbuttoning his pants.

“Our son needs to be safe in his home,” you said meeting his lidded eyes.

“And you’ll make sure that nesta location wont be revealed either, just like you promised, right?”

Azriel let out a soft whimper.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as your hands continued their work.

Your hands moved carefully across his skin, over his chest to his throat. You stood up, now almost taller than him, tracing the handprint left on his throat.

“You’ll keep Nesta and us safe, right?”

Azriel nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a promise in them.

“It’s a bargain then,” you said softly.

“Yes” He said without hesitation, you felt a small burn behind your ear, you would check it out later.

You continued to heal him, your fingers gently brushing across the scarred surface of his hand. Something inside you stirred, something small, but it was there. You would deal with it later.

“Good,” you said, your voice returning to its usual firmness.

Standing straight, you broke the moment, your voice sharp and composed once more.

“Button up your pants. I’ll send another healer to take over.”

“I have to talk to the others,” you added, your words cold once again, as if nothing had changed.

Azriel looked up at you in confusion he wa so confuse about . “What?”

Azriel felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs.

His fingers twitched where they rested on his thighs, his mind still catching up to what had just happened. The warmth of your hands still lingered on his skin, but it had been a lie. You had just guided him exactly where you wanted, let him believe he was safe with you, that he could be vulnerable, just for a moment.

But you had never meant for it to be anything more than a transaction.

A bargain.

His stomach twisted, he felt sick. He should have known better. He should have seen it coming.

His jaw tightened as he watched you pull away, as if nothing had happened. The warmth in your voice was gone, replaced by that same cold, detached authority you always wielded so well.

He had been played.

And the worst part?

It wasn’t just anger that was coiling in his chest. It was something else, something darker, more dangerous.

Because for the first time in years, he had felt something real with you again. And he had no idea if he hated you for it… or if he wanted more.

“Amias has been waiting and crying all day,” you said, your eyes narrowing slightly.

“He’s been missing you. We’ll also need to have a conversation about that.”

Azriel’s face softened, guilt flashing in his eyes.

“Rest,” you said firmly. “You need it.”

He hesitated for a moment before standing up. His face, though no longer bruised visibly, still held the exhaustion and pain of the day.

“Let me see him first,” he requested quietly.

“You’re still hurt,” you said, pointing at him. “He’ll notice.”

His jaw clenched.

“Let me see him. Do I always have to beg you?” His voice was a mixture of frustration and hurt.

You didn’t flinch, your eyes locking onto his with a coldness that was never this vicious.

“Careful,” you said, your voice icy. It was a warning, a sharp reminder of the boundaries you’d set.

Azriel gulped, his posture stiffening before he slowly sank back into the chair, visibly deflated.

“You’ll see him when the healer allows it,” you added, your words leaving no room for argument.

With one final glance, you turned on your heel and walked out, the door closing behind you with a soft click, leaving Azriel to wrestle with his frustration and the worst day he might have had in a long century.

⋆ ♡ ⋆

Walking past the open window, you reached out and grabbed the white cat by the scruff of its neck. It let out a terrible, loud meow, its green eyes glaring at you with all the rage it could muster.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been up to, you little shit,” you muttered, holding it up to eye level.

The cat hissed, its tail lashing in irritation, but you didn’t let go. You simply kept walking, its tiny body dangling from your grip as it continued to yowl at you.

Taglist for Found you is closed!

Please leave some comments 💜

Also Anon I’ve thought about Eris and Nesta and this is for you✨ I hope you like it 😘

Still working on their story

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thebluester2020 · 7 months ago

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[GI] Kinktober Day 10: "Exhibitionism"

Summary: After your stunt with Tartaglia, you are forced to deal with the repercussions of Capitano's not-so-well-hidden jealousy.

Warning(s): Reader is fucked in front of an audience, Dub-Con, Degradation, (Probably a whole slew of other warnings that I can’t think of rn).

Side Note(s): Okay so—I switched it up last minute to exhibitionism because I realized that I get confused easily between that and voyeurism (+ I have more of a love for exhibitionism anyway).

Also, this is kinda an unofficial pt. 2 to the "Sharing" fic I posted? I mostly kept to the same "storyline"(?) because it was easier on the brain for me.

Your relationship with Capitano has been in a...weird spot, to the least, ever since that day between yourself, Tartaglia, and Capitano.

At the end of it all, the men didn't even get what they had originally wanted. You were far too fucked-dumb to even decipher who was who, much less come up with enough letters capable of yelling out a name. But, for the sake of being tired himself, Tartaglia had admitted "defeat" and carried on his merry way! Eventually, he left Capitano's war band and continued on his own personal mission, leaving you behind and working for Capitano permanently like you were originally supposed to.

But it's been awkward.

Capitano was curt with you, only speaking to you when he needed to. If you were caught taking a moment to relax, you began to pray that Capitano wouldn't happen upon you, he'd only immediately order you to get back to work!

No longer did he greet you warmly and no longer did he seem to care about your well-being. When the entire war party moved, he no longer expected you to be by his side, nor did he constantly check to see if you were! You could've been at the very back of the party and he wouldn't have given a single damn.

You had a mind to call your boss out on his behavior, pull him aside, and ask what the issue was and...whether or not there was still something between you both.

Although, you already had a mind to think that any feelings that may have started to blossom had long since been crushed underneath heel and foot.

Until today that is, when you were in your tent and finishing up some reports.

. . .

You quickly rose to your feet when Capitano suddenly entered your tent, bowing your head as you murmured a respectful 'Lord Capitano' in greeting.

He responded with a gruff noise of acknowledgment. "There will be a feast held tonight," Capitano said.

Your brow cocked, a feast? You hadn't heard anything relating to a feast at all. "Our efforts and missions have been going smoothly, I figured it's overdue to reward everyone in this camp. Even you." You bit the inside of your cheek at the cold way he addressed you. Had you known that accepting Tartaglia's offer—that rogue ginger-headed charmer—would lead to such an awkward tension between you and Capitano, you would've never allowed Tartaglia to trick you!

"...That's...that's kind of you." You said before sighing.

He nodded his head before turning to leave, prompting you to quickly stop him. "M-My Lord," You started off. "About that day...are you still—"

"I'll be taking my leave,"

"Lord Capitano!" You said more firmly this time, walking around your desk and beginning to close the distance between the two of you. "You can't continue to avoid me, n-not to mention treat me as I—" You stopped in your tracks when the first harbinger turned his head to look at you. And although you couldn't see his eyes, nor his expression behind that dark mask...the danger that oozed off of him. It made you audibly gulp as you took a few steps back.

You bowed your head in silent apology. "...You will come to my tent before the feast officially begins." Then, he walked out. A cold bead of sweat dripped down your neck at the vague order. Either it would be nothing aside from more work, Capitano deciding to kill you, or...hopefully, he'd finally get over his attitude and talk to you.

You couldn't stand how things were at the moment.

So, when the time finally arrived and the feast was ten minutes away from the beginning. You found yourself in Capitano's tent, your hands resting neatly in front of you as you stood at the entrance of his lavish tent. "My Lord, the feast will begin soon." You gently reminded him. "Shall I alert the soldiers of anything before it begins?" You continued.

You didn't receive a response until Capitano emerged from the covered part of his tent, adorned in the usual attire he wore when he appeared during important Fatui functions or battles. "No," He answered. "Simply follow me." Your brow rose as he walked past you, but nonetheless, you dutifully followed after him outside and back into the steadily warming air thanks to the bonfire that had just been set up.

As the soldiers began to gather, however, Capitano clearing his throat before he broke out into an, admittedly, very admirable speech as he thanked and showed gratitude towards his soldiers. Certain things started to stand out to you as your eyes washed over the crowd. Such as...the doctors and nurses of the camp weren't present, surely they deserved some praise and appreciation too? Too many times have soldiers or even your boss himself had come into the camp injured from head to toe! They'd quickly patch them up and almost seem to perform magic, you've heard soldiers state that one doctor in particular was good at numbing the pain!

There were none of the cooks, blacksmiths or even the younger soldiers that were fresh into the party, tasked to simply stand aside and watch.

All this boiled down to this "feast" being composed of nothing more than the more experienced soldiers, simply leaving you with a number ranging around the hundreds.

As pieces started to merge together although...a heavy hand placed itself on your shoulder, and then, you tuned back into the conversation. "...You will all bear witness as to my secretary learning who she truly belongs to, hopefully with an audience, she will learn not to be so easy for others."

What had just happened?

. . .

"Apologize." Capitano gruffly ordered you as the loud sound of your squelching cunt echoed through the camp. Not even the whistling winds could muffle your desperate panting as Capitano fingered your soaked cunt, taking special care to not knick you with his claws. "Apologize for being such a desperate whore..." He hissed out, loud enough for everyone to hear. "...for being so easy to fuck, not even having the courtesy to quiet yourself down despite being in a camp full of my soldiers."

Your cheeks burned with shame as you could feel hundreds of eyes on you. You didn't know whether you wanted the soldiers to be disgusted at the sight and turn away or if...you preferred this in a sick way, although there were some women amongst the crowd, the heavy sound of panting amongst the men made you clench around nothing, your slick beginning to drip and run down from your cunt and onto Capitano's lap.

Something that the ever-vigilant Captain didn't miss.

"You shameless whore." He snarled in your ear, your body shuddering at the feeling of his sharp teeth grazing the skin on your ear. "You're getting even wetter at being watched?" The harbinger nearly had a mind to laugh at how your legs twitched, as if you wanted to curl into yourself at his cruel words. He almost allowed himself to feel bad, until he smelled how your arousal grew at his words.

Oh...so you liked this.

Well...that explained everything.

Slowly, he took his fingers away from your cunt, a string of arousal still connecting him to you as he brought them up to his face. "So that's why you fucked my fellow harbinger." He sneered, opening and closing his index and middle finger, playing with your slick.

"H-Huh?" You moaned, both in disappointment and confusion. Despite the cold, your body burned with desire, one that grew more potent by the passing second as you felt Capitano's obvious hard-on behind you. You were grateful for your tears blurring your vision, for as Capitano continued to let you sit in his lap exposed to his soldiers, you at least could fool yourself into thinking that no one was paying attention.

But only for so long.

A scream tore from you as the Captain's fingers returned to your sex, his fingers dipping into your pussy before they had quickly found your g-spot whilst his other hand wrapped around your torso to begin flicking rapidly at your clit. All the air in your lungs were nearly knocked out of you at the rate of how quickly you were approaching your climax, your hands fruitlessly clawing at Capitano's forearms as drool started to dribble from the side of your mouth, your eyes starting to roll into the back of your skull.

"C-Captain..." You moaned. "O-Oh Archons...!" You keened.

He didn't relent. "Take it," He ordered as if he were ordering a soldier. "Considering you've taken me and Tartaglia at the same time...you should be used to the pleasure." He chuckled gruffly.

He tightened his hold on you as you squirmed. "Slut," He spat. "Quit squirming."

It was only when Capitano suddenly bit down on your shoulder were you pushed off the edge, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as your body stilled and your vision turned completely white. For a long while, you drifted on that cloud of sheer bliss...until you were brought back down by the feeling of something hard slapping against your cunt, snapping you back to reality before you were face to face with the harbinger's cock.

Starting off at a lighter color at the base before turning into a dark purple towards the middle and upwards at the tip. You shuddered when you remembered that Capitano's cock was inside of you...not even a whole two weeks prior! The ridges along his dick were intimidating, especially with the way it twitched and oozed pre-cum.

You gasped when he parted your cunt wider with his fingers. "If you won't apologize with your mouth..." He started off before he lifted you a little, as easily as he would carry a sack of flour before the tip of his cock pressed against your opening. "...Maybe you'll be more apologetic with your pussy."

. . .

Capitano didn't waste any time to wrap a hand around your mouth, although, the sheer size of his hand nearly engulfed your entire face. As he pressed you impossibly closer to him, he made sure to get really close to your ear as he spoke to you. "Make sure to look my soldiers in the eye as you apologize to me with this cunt of yours." He said before he slowly pushed himself into you.

Immediately, you broke his command, your eyes threatening to roll into the back of your head. Something that Capitano quickly corrected with his free hand slapping the side of your thigh. "Look at them." He reminded you. As more of his dick sunk into you, your eyes blurry and struggling to focus as you looked at the soldiers before you. You accidentally made eye contact with one of them, all before...your eyes glimpsed at his noticeably hard cock.

In fact, you noticed how all of them were hard.

Your cunt clenched tighter around your boss' dick at that realization. "Fuck—" He whispered. "You must've noticed, hm? How they all yearn to fuck you? My secretary." He continued.

When your pussy twitched at his words, he lightly pinched your side in punishment. "Greedy pussy...still eager to take more cock despite having me inside of you?" A muffled yelp resounded against the harbinger's hand when the rest of the Captain's dick was suddenly pushed into you. More moans followed suit as his fat tip began to poke and prod at your sweet spot, deep inside of you. "Don't worry, I'll curb your greediness soon." He whispered, the sheer possessiveness in his deep voice making goosebumps pop up all over your skin and down your spine.

More than you cared to realize, you loved when your boss was possessive over you. And that love only grew more when he started to move, his balls slapping against your skin as he took up a brutal pace almost immediately. You tried your best to keep your moans quiet when he suddenly released his grip over your mouth for it to take up stationing itself on your waist, aiding in pulling you down faster and harder against his pelvis. But it was so fucking hard to be quiet when he was fucking you like he was afraid of loosing you. As if you'd be gone the second this was all done.

"C-Captain..." You groaned. "F-Feels so good...!" You continued to cry out, blissful tears running down your face as you lost yourself in the feeling of his cock. Delicious sparks ran up and down your spine at the feeling of the ridges alongside his cock rubbing against your walls, your arms coming to loop themselves around the back of the Captain's neck as his groans started to become more and more audible.

His cock was touching all the right spots inside of you, making you see stars behind your eyes. "Fuck—" He snarled. "Archons...your cunt is squeezing me so tightly." He groaned, his head coming to bury itself in the crook of your head before he whispered more words you were too cock-drunk to decipher. You whined when he sped up the pace of his thrusts against you, your cock-drunk babbles turning from moaning to pleading for him to go easier on you, much to the harbinger's amusement. "Too much?" He mocked, faking sympathy as he fucked you harder in turn. "That's too bad. You wanted this, so you're going to fucking take it." He growled.

He was suffocating you in the best way possible as each time his cock slid into you, it practically punched the air from your lungs, the scent of sex in the air making it feel like it was hard to breathe. But you loved it. You assume that's why your second orgasm snuck upon you so suddenly, the presence of people watching your boss fuck you silly on his lap...the degrading words he whispered into your ear in combination to the pleasure. It was all making your mind spin. "You're fucking tightening up on me..." Capitano grit his teeth together, his claws beginning to dig into your skin.

"Gonna cum?" He asked before he kissed the side of your neck, lightly nipping it as he felt his orgasm begin to approach as well. "Cum all over my cock then." He cooed, the feeling of his twitching dick battering against your cervix making you let out a few more strangled moans before you froze again him with a loud cry.

"Fuck...fuckfuckfuckfuck." He groaned, fucking you through your orgasm for a few more thrusts until he stilled against your still twitching pussy with a loud hiss of his own. You moaned softly as you struggled to come down from being dicked down, a dopey grin plastering itself onto your face as you looked behind you with both a happy expression and a shy one.

The harbinger, although dazed and hidden behind his mask, smirked confidently, the way he moved to run his fingers through your hair shockingly gentle.

He doubted you would want to go and find someone else to fuck after tonight.

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cosmicalily · 6 months ago

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"pilates princess" a changbin oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: i was talking to @thevampywolf this morning about how there's a proper lack of changbin fluff fics on tumblr atm and i decided to make it my mission of the day to change that! i absolutely love binnie, he's the silliest, sweetest guy and i was thinking of how to blend his gym obsession with his adorable personality, and a (very much so in love) pilates princess was born!!

Seo Changbin did not have time for girls.

According to his roommate, Han Jisung, his one and only true love was the gym, where he spent almost every spare second of his day. His diet consisted of protein powder, chicken breasts, green smoothies and instant ramen. He only drank cold brews with absolutely no sugar, because he couldn’t stand sweet things.

He was pretty quiet and some would say intimidating. Didn’t say a lot, didn’t do a lot.

But now, watching you, he felt something different. He felt strange. He felt soft.

Changbin looked over at you curiously from the bench press, pausing to catch his breath for a moment as you stretched your body like a cat, toes pointed, shoulders straight.

Dressed in a pale pink sports bra with a matching long-sleeved ballet wrap and black leggings, to say you looked a little out of place in a predominantly male gym was an understatement. Your hair was pulled back with a ribbon, a sticker-decorated water bottle by the side of your mat and an iced milky-green drink beside it.

You breathed slowly, stretching your arms forward and touching your toes before sitting straight, cocking your head at your one-man audience.

“Why are you watching me?” you wrinkled your nose in disgust, self-consciously placing a hand over your chest. “I’m here for the exact same reason as you, it’s not my fault the girls’ dorms don’t have a gym.”

Changbin flushed. “I’m sorry. It probably seemed creepy, fuck, it’s not, I promise. I’m just . . . curious. What were you doing? I’ve never seen anyone exercise like that. Everyone who comes in either beats the shit out of the boxing bag or lifts.”

“Pilates,” you smiled, looking less uncomfortable. “I got my instructing licence a bit ago, but the place I teach at is only open in the mornings. So if I’ve had an early class or lecture and want to work out in the afternoon, I have to come here. Trust me, I wouldn’t be here voluntarily. You guys are gross.”

He pouted. “I’m not. I’m cute.”

“Yeah, sure you are, princess,” you chuckled, taking a sip from the green drink. You noticed him looking at it. “It’s matcha, do you want some?”

“Fuck no, my friend said that tastes like grass,” Changbin shook his head furiously.

You laughed at him, inching the cup closer to him. “C’mon, try a sip. You’ll like this one, it’s sweet. I always get vanilla in it since I can’t stand bitter drinks.”

He very cautiously leaned forward, looking at you carefully in case you recoiled when he pressed his lips on the straw. You didn’t, seeming less and less shy by the second, watching him eagerly as he swallowed.

“...and the verdict is?” you prompted.

“Where can I get my own?”

Jisung looked around Changbin’s room in shock, eyes comically wide as he took in his surroundings. Sure, it had been a week while he’d been staying with his parents, but surely Changbin’s life hadn’t changed so . . . drastically? Or had he somehow been invaded by some kind of pink fairy?

A pale pink sports bra lay strewn on Changbin’s bed, accompanied by a pair of soft grey flared leggings and a drink bottle. There was a handbag too, with ribbons and cute fluffy keychains, all belongings that most certainly were not his. But there were slightly more permanent looking changes, too. A pink MyMelody sticker on Changbin’s previously pristine laptop. A little beaded bow charm on his duffle bag. Two polaroids pinned above his bed; one of a girl making a kissy face, another of her with Changbin, pinching his cheek as he beamed at her adoringly.

Did Seo Changbin have a girlfriend?

And why wasn’t she a black-donning, gym obsessed weirdo like he was?

“Oh hi, Ji, you’re back!” Changbin smiled wide, something that Jisung swore he had never seen in all his time being his roommate. Or at least, not for a very long time. But Changbin had a whole different air about him; his body, although still buff, didn’t seem as tense as it usually was. His brow wasn’t furrowed and there was colour in his cheeks. And, for the love of God, had he blow dried his hair?

Jisung smiled back. “Hey, Bin. What are you drinking? New protein powder?”

“It’s a vanilla matcha, you should try it,” he handed it to Jisung, who took a tentative sip then stared, open-mouthed in shock.

“That’s . . . sweet.”

“No shit,” Changbin laughed at him, thumping his friend on the back. “It’s good, right? Y/N introduced me to them.”

Jisung handed it back, still suspicious that the real Seo Changbin had been abducted and that the man in front of him was a secret twin. “Oh, nice. Is that her stuff in your room?”

“Sure is,” a sweet voice chuckled from behind Changbin. A petite girl flew through the door, wrapping her arms tight around Changbin’s waist. “I’m Y/N, Jisung. It’s nice to finally meet you! Binnie’s told me so much about you two.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow. “And you’re . . . ?”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Changbin said proudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah, but he’s the babygirl. Everyone knows that,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “He’s a pilates princess now, Jisung, I’ve converted him. Surprised he wasn’t doing it earlier; it’s very him, you know.”

Jisung blinked slowly, taking in the sight in front of him.

“Seo Changbin? A princess?” he mumbled.

“Sure I am,” Changbin shrugged, and Jisung promptly fainted in shock.

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eunandonly · 8 months ago

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౨ৎ — jungwon dating idol you

idol!jungwon x fem. reader | things he do when he’s dating you as an idol

genre: fluff, est. relationship | wc. 0.4k ♡ a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for AGES. not my best work, but i still wanted to post it ^^

jungwon would be trying so hard not to look your way at any ceremonies and award shows to prevent any rumours or scandals. when he bows because your group passes by, he will be staring at his shoes and refusing to meet any of your eyes. — more under cut!

he definitely gets shy when you show up on the big screen, and he’s lowkey vibing to your songs as he watches you dance. probably melts on the spot when you smile at the audience. (he likes telling himself that it’s for him and him only.)

jungwon wouldn’t be showing it, but he probably gets so excited when you and his promotion schedules and activities clash, because what do you mean that he gets to see you for five seconds as you pass by him for your performance in music bank?

jungwon is most definitely asking the staff if he can please please please have a dance challenge with you for his/your latest comeback.

jungwon would definitely collect your photocards, probably trades and buys from your fandom under an anonymous name and makes you sign every one of them.

he also collects your albums and has them in a little drawer and flips through them when he’s bored. (he may or may not have tabs on your pages)

jungwon has a whole playlist with every single one of your group’s songs and has your parts perfectly memorised. he will not hesitate to sing along when the song comes to your part when he’s in the car or in his room.

jungwon is an avid viewer of your fan cams and he leaves comments complimenting you.

jungwon probably watches ship edits of you and him on tiktok whilst giggling and blushing. he’s down bad for your fr.

jungwon is always getting into online fights with your haters, he can be a menace if he wants to be.

jungwon constantly tiring his members out by talking about you nonstop in the dorms. y/n this and y/n that. the members have had enough.

he also gets really sad when he sees you flirting with your fans.

he would just randomly crash at your dorm or practice room without notice in the middle of the night.

jungwon just loves you sm <3

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lokisgoodgirl · 11 months ago

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A Royal Audience: The Rite

Chapter 1 Masterlist for The Rite is here A link to my full Masterlist is here Summary: (1) You, an Asgardian court nobody, fall asleep in the palace baths and have an unconventional introduction to the elusive Loki Odinson. (w/c 3.7k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki x female reader. Smut. Language. Voyeurism.

Water splashes and your legs fly up, floating out into the murk of torchlit water. Bracing against the stone edge, you glance over your shoulder with a blossoming horror. The curved arch reveals the glittering lights of Asgard below; mountains which had glowed with low-afternoon light when you’d settled in the palace baths now cloaked in darkness. Why did no one wake me? It's forbidden for anyone but the Royal family to be in the baths after sundown. And the penalties are severe.

Surely more of a guideline than a rule, you think optimistically as you get your bearings. Panic twists in your chest. Surely Odin can’t imprison every member of the court who dozes off in the hot springs.

Heaving yourself onto the side, you shiver in the immediate chill. The loss of warmth is like the absence of a lover’s touch; leaving their bed on a winter night. You’re surprised you can remember what that feels like. A breeze blows through the atrium as you grasp for the robe you discarded earlier. It sticks to clammy skin, thick droplets seeping though the fabric as you gaze longingly at the towels lined up at the side. No time. But as you flick soggy tendrils of hair from beneath the collar, your ears prick. No. Footsteps. There’s only one doorway to the baths. A security thing. One hallway – in and out. Your eyes dart frantically at limited options. Tall, imposing pillars encircle the room. One of them will have to do. All you can do is pray the guards just take a quick peek around the door. The squeak of your bare feet on the floor fades just as your wet skin meets marble. You cover your mouth, eyes screwing shut. The door swings open, creaking on ancient hinges. “Prepare the oils,” someone commands. A dark, enunciated order which seems to settle in the steam.

A shudder runs down your spine. That voice. Another one replies in hushed reverence, flopping sandals scooting over the marble floor while bottles rattle. “Haste,” the first growls.

You clutch the flimsy robe tighter to your chest. The first time, you might have been mistaken. But as the irritated syllables of that solitary word settle, there’s no mistaking it. Prince Loki. If you were asked to swear in front of the Norns that you’d never envisioned the dark prince as you touched yourself in the dead of night, thought of his forbidden curls twisting through your hair as you rode him, the timbre of his moans as you choked on his cock – you’d be a fucking liar. I mean, who hasn't? But this? This is beyond the pale. Even conjured from your sickest fantasies. This is wrong. This is...a death sentence.

And yet, you find yourself edging closer to the side of the pillar.

Should you announce yourself? Grovel? Retreat out the door with garbled apologies, bowing with your face lowered and begging for your life? Probably.

But it’s too late now. Far too late. And if you’re going to end up in the dungeons, as on some level you always suspected you would, at least this image will sustain you.

Loki Odinson stands all limbs and and length at the edge of the baths. From emerald-encrusted slippers to the crown of dark waves spilling over his shoulders – he’s perfect; unmistakeably royalty even in his lounge-wear. What little there is of it.

White steam rolls above the water, as sheer and flawless as the chiffon robe that moulds to his body. The faint hue of his skin shows through the forest-green material, fingers toying with the tie circling his hips as he casts a scathing glance to the servant whirling a phial of oil between his fingers. “Tis’ ready, my lord” the servant says. The prince grunts, letting the sash fall open.

You hold a breath as the garb falls down the sinewy bulge of his shoulders, deep carves of tricep muscle illuminated in torchlight. You’ve never seen him so close; never had time to admire the stark beauty emanating from every angled inch of him. Without the distracting glint of his armour it’s almost enough to make your eyes water. Glimpses of him had been in passing, a stolen gawk before you bowed you head and he moved quickly through the great hall past the other courtly nobodies.

The luxuriously weaved material slides over his skin, folding and rippling as it drips from his fingertips. It shimmers in low flamelight and he rolls his shoulders back as it drops, abdominals clenching. You clench along with them as the robe pools around his ankles. Your palms sweat against the pillar, fingers beginning to claw as Loki steps into the water. He rakes his hair back, tilting his chin to the ceiling as he puts one foot ceremonially in front of the other. Making an entrance, even without an audience. Or so he thinks.

The servant stands obediently by the bath’s edge, staring ahead as the prince’s thighs flex with each effortless step, liquid lapping around his knees.

As much as you try not to look, sort of, to preserve some sliver of dignity for the god, saliva wells under your tongue. His perfect cock bobs between his legs. It’s true what they say, you think in a daze. His pubic hair is an immaculate shadow. Even his balls are perfect.

Loki sinks down, dipping long hair back in the water before seating himself in the opposite spot you’d occupied minutes ago. Jet hair plasters to his skin like tar, droplets of water clinging to his torso. “Begin,” he mutters with an air of annoyance. The servant complies, pouring the rose-tinted phial into his hand and beginning to massage the god’s scalp.

You watch in utter beguilement as Loki’s head is nudged from side to side, indecent moans of pleasure snaking from his throat as the favoured servant carries out his work. Thin drips of oil roll down the prince’s brow, catching the light. He tips his head back, jawline pointed to the ceiling like the blade of an axe. He lets out a whimper of pleasure.

You press your lips together so hard it hurts as a crease appears in the god’s brow, his eyes shut as the man kneeling behind turns the attention to his shoulders. The oil spreads down the thick of his neck, to the crevices of his collarbone; glistening. “Oh-h, yes…there-” the god growls, a gnawing groan shaking the air. For the first time, you notice the unmistakable heat of arousal sliding between your thighs. Squirming, you think briefly about looking away. You decide against it. In the blink of an eye, Loki’s mood changes like a winter wind. He leans forward, an abrupt tsk punctuated by the wave of a hand. “Leave me,” he demands. The servant looks visibly confused, fingers poised in the air above tense muscle. Loki turns expectantly over his shoulder. “Need I say it again?” he purrs menacingly. It was quietly brutal. You smirk in spite of yourself. Classic Prince Loki, you muse. You never dreamed you’d get to see it in person.

The man shakes his head, shuffling to his feet. He shuffles out the room with little bows and letting the ancient latch clunk into place. Your breaths quicken and the sudden gravity of the situation settles like a boulder in your throat. Frozen, you watch Loki eye the door a moment longer before resting back against the stone with a lazy sigh.

Long fingers run through the slick of his hair while water slops around his nipples. Gods, how you want to pull one between your teeth as you pump his- “Aren’t you cold?” His voice was an arrow. Sharp, targeted, tipped with venom. It’s hit spreads through your body, white noise filling your brain, blood thundering in your ears.

“Aren’t you cold?” he repeats, sterner this time. You realise with horrifying clarity that Prince Loki of Asgard, as eusive and unknowable as faraway galaxies to a mouse, is talking to you. And he’s naked. And you’re definitely spending the next decade in the dungeons. If you’re lucky.

With shaking hands, you step out from behind the pillar. The game is up. But to your credit, you have closed your eyes, one palm shielding them in a last ditch attempt at salvation. “Your Majesty I apologise I...fell asleep in the water, and woke up after sundown- the laws, and you came in...I didn’t know where to go- what to do-please have mercy...” You squint between parted fingers to gauge his reaction, hoping that the last threads of your long-gone innocence are believable. The prince curls a finger to his lips, covering a smirk. “I did not look upon your majesty...” you lie. The god’s eyes run from your ankles to your face, a devious smile playing at one side of his mouth. His lips part, chin tilting upwards, tongue resting behind his upper teeth before the perfect enunciation of, “Liar.”

“I did not look upon-” you stammer, lowering your hand and staring at the floor.

“-Oh, stop it.” Loki says. It’s followed by a melodic chuckle ricocheting around the marble walls. You glance up. One elbow rests on the stone behind him, water rippling against his chest. He tilts his head, raising the other arm out the water. “Never let it be said the God of Mischief is not merciful,” he rumbles coyly. A solitary finger beckons. “You must be cold,” he repeats for the third time, softer. “I assure you the baths are warmer than the dungeon, if that was your intent for the remainder of the evening.”

Each step feels like an eternity as you let yourself be drawn forward by weak flesh. You can’t take your eyes off his, thundering silently into your soul like a sexual storm. “I am not to the dungeons, then?” you ask cautiously. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

He winks, a perfectly timed droplet of oil falling from his chin to the water below with a thick plop. It makes your stomach flip. He stiffens suddenly, raising his palm in a ‘stop’.

“You may leave now...if you wish,” he says. An aura of stiff formality settles on his expression.

This is the Loki you recognise from feast days and speeches which ring around the towering cloisters of the great hall. The palm held upright softens to gesture to the other side of the pool. “Or you may stay, if you wish. Either way, sending such a flower to the dungeons to wilt and wither would surely be a greater crime than the one you have committed.”

He pauses. There’s a flash of pink as his tongue runs over his lips. His gaze drops to your fingers fidgeting nervously with the sash of your robe, still stained with watermarks from its hasty assembly. “Curiosity is only natural, one supposes,” he says.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” you reply quietly.

Loki’s eyes meet yours, one eyebrow rising. “Ah, but you did.” His voice is deeper, wisps of intrigue catching in every syllable. “In my experience, the path paved with mistakes leads to better stories. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You bite your lip. “Your Majesty are you...sure? I’m-” you glance towards the door, hesitating before you met the prince’s waiting stare, “-naked, under this.” Loki’s long index finger dips teasingly into the water, feigned surprise making his brows rise as he watches it sink beneath the surface. The lip twitches again as his digit skims, slow ripples pulsing out from his body. “Egalitarian, wouldn’t you say? Considering your recent education on my own state of undress.” Heat rises in your cheeks, matching the inexplicable confidence beginning to blossom in your belly. Loki smiles expectantly, resting both elbows casually on the ledge.

His lips form a soft o as your robe falls around your feet. You feel his stare roaming your body as keenly as though its his hands. Can he see the translucent sheen of arousal smeared down your inner thighs as you step into the pool? Possibly. Probably.

It’s true what they say about his body, about his temper, about his cock, after all. Why not his powers of perception?

The water licks against your skin, the thrill of this forbidden meeting making every hair on your body stand to attention. Pores tingle against the embrace of heat as you sink beneath the surface, perching on the flat stone seat beneath. The curve of your mounds bob above gently lapping water.

The same spot you’d been in earlier. But now, the view is entirely different.

You imagine that the archway behind you is a beautiful scene. Asgard’s moons would be shining, their light halo’ing your wetted hair against a blanket of stars. And yet, Prince Loki’s eyes never leave yours.

Although ten meters stretch between you, the whisper of his breath seemed to curl against your ear. You widen your legs beneath the water, immediately squeezing them closed again. Your lips purse, stifling a whine. “Your first royal audience, I gather?” Loki asks politely. You nod. This is madness.

Slowly, he shifts. One arm slips beneath the water, then two. His chin dips, observing you seductively from half-lidded eyes. “Why have I never seen you before?” The question hangs amidst the steam rolling over soft ripples.

“I find myself new at court, your Majesty” you hear yourself answer. It isn’t true. But it's better than the embarrassing reality. You're an invisible cog. “Liar,” he murmurs seductively. The corners of his eyes crease with mirth, a wet curl falling down to the side of his cheek. Somehow, your fingers find their way to your clit; hidden beneath the sweet-smelling veil of the baths.

“How can I have overlooked such a jewel in the midst of this grey wasteland?” “Wasteland?!” you scoff. It's bold, a peal of laughter escaping in spite of yourself. “Hardly.” The god cocks an eyebrow. “Despite my hyperbole, the sentiment remains. How did I miss you?”

There’s a moment of silence; anticipation choking the air. A suspicious disturbance begins to swell at the water by Loki’s mid-section and a chill of desire makes you shiver despite the temperate water; imagining those long, elegant fingers wrapping around that long, elegant cock. You began to toy with yourself, sparks of pleasure thrumming through your veins. Your shoulders began to roll in time with the pressure of your fingers. Unmistakeable. Breaths rise and fall in your chest, breasts bouncing lightly at the surface.

He grits, throat working as the straight lower line of his perfectly white teeth flash into view. The swell of water above his groin crests to a flurry; his deep, filthy exhales wrapping around your inhibitions and choking them. All pretence gone, you release the moan you’ve been holding.

Loki breaths out hard, a low ragged breath that seemed to part the steam caressing the water’s surface. “Mmm,” he grunts, neck stiffening. A vein at his throat stands hard and thick, straining as water began to splash against him from his abuse beneath. This is a scandal. You are a scandal. If anyone finds out, you’re finished...and yet. As the prince’s chin points to his glistening chest, wet from the splashback from fucking himself beneath the surface, you find you care not one jot.

His eyes darken, long lashes curled up to knitted brows. Loki’s lips are parted, tongue hovering and forming senseless words between laboured breaths. His cheekbones flash in the low light, soaking hair strewn over his milky skin. And always, his gaze is on you. The lofty, untouchable, inscrutable god that you’ve fantasised about is looking at you as he pleasures himself. Thinking about you as he sits across the water tugging his flawless cock. And if this is the shining, glorious moment which would burn out in a blaze of reputation-ruining glory to ash then so be it. Worth it. His dulcet moans of onanism grow louder, timing with your own. Only once do you tip your head back as you feel climax rear, a growled command of ‘look at me,’ through gritted teeth snapping you forward again.

If you’re ever deigned worthy to feel the prince inside you, have his marble body flush to your own in the throes of passion, feel his lustful praise hot in your ear– just once – you would die happy. But this? This could be enough. “S-so dutiful,” the prince moans, his shoulders juddering as he strangled the words. “B-brave,” he gasps. His brow furrows deeper with one last longing stare at your glistening neck and shoulders as you cum hard, a quiet mewl of his name echoing around the baths. It’s all you can do not to scream. “G-gods,” Loki chokes. Every muscle you can see in his body seems to tense, a thundering roar like ripping leather cascading from his throat. His mouth hangs open, grimacing to the atrium above. In the death of his cry, there’s silence but for the splash of water as the two of you compose yourself. Still flushed from orgasm, you push your hair back. The prince raises the hand that had been pleasuring himself out the water, inspecting a thick, white string that clings to his fingertips. He turns his gaze to you as he sucks the cum from his digits. God he’s fucking filthy, you think. I knew it. It takes every piece of willpower not to wade across the baths and lick it from his mouth. You bite your lip, matching his sultry demeanour and the prince’s eyebrow twitches. Your reaction is clearly to his satisfaction. “This has been amusing.”

He stands abruptly, breath stealing from your lungs as his entire body comes into view again. You aren’t prepared. The god’s cock is still hard. Long and perfectly formed, it’s earlier fairness now replaced with the blush of his work. Above, his abdomen glistens; pearled droplets of oily water running leisurely over muscled ridges. You open your mouth and close it again. Loki smiles. He turns and the toned meat of his ass shifts on his ascent up the short steps out the baths. With a click of his fingers, the robe and slippers he’d discarded are upon him once more. Your stomach drops.

“I didn’t tell you my name,” you blurt as he approaches the door. Prince Loki’s profile slices into view, the perfect arc of his bone structure lined over one broad shoulder in dancing torchlight. His eyes cast down and move to yours with theatrical precision.

“Your name?!” he purrs incredulously. “We must keep some mystery, surely.” And with the swirl of his robe and a thud of the ancient latch, he’s gone.

Loki’s stomach churns, emerald slippers feeling heavier with every step. He feels along the wall, blinking away the dizziness growing behind his eyes. Risky. Even for me. He pauses at the end of the corridor, steadying his breaths. There was something about her. Something which shattered any semblance of decorum he usually clung to in the presence of the court, however strange the situation. Her audacity. Gods, the look in her eyes as she brought herself to climax; pinning him under her gaze like a starving wretch at a feast. He stares at his feet, jewels throwing prisms from torchlight. “Brother?” Loki looks up, immediately rolling his eyes. “Spying on me? Truly you need to find something more wholesome to occupy your time, brother.” “Of course not. I intended to join you.” Loki’s stomach lurches as he notes the robe hanging off his brother’s shoulders, the plush red towels stacked in his glowering manservant’s arms. “No,” he snaps as Thor attempts to pass. The hand pressing against his brother’s chest is still wet, and he has a sudden hope it’s only water. “The temperature is not pleasing tonight. Tepid, at best. Trust me, brother.” “Is that so?” Thor asks, eyebrow rising. If he finds her in there, she’ll be punished. He won’t think twice before running to father like a dog. The thought wouldn’t usually cause him alarm but there it was again, that niggling feeling that greater fates were at play. He studies Thor’s face. "Trust me," Loki says. His brother sighs. “I trust you with very few things, Loki, but the temperature of bathwater is verily one of them.” He waves a hand and the servant scuttles away into the gloom. “In truth, brother, I hoped to speak to you about the Rite.” A hiss blows between Loki’s teeth, eyes darting to the side. “In my own time.” “Your own time?!” Thor stomps forward, making the torches rattle. “You’ve had five hundred years to find someone, Loki. Nine moons; that’s all you have until you must wait another five centuries for the alignment. Don’t you want to secure yourself in the succession? What if something were to happen to father? To me? The people of Asgard must be assured of your suitability.” “The entire thing is a farce. The fact that you succeeded, proves it.” Thor’s face darkens. “Don't speak of our sacred traditions that way. You know they’re in place for a reason.” A snort steals from Loki’s nostrils. “I have no doubts of my skill, I know I could rule Asgard’s people selflessly and with great enthusiasm; why must it be paraded in an inane peacocking which will make the high-lords wilt with inferiority?”

Silence hangs thick in the narrow corridor.

“A fact which makes your refusal to participate even more perplexing," Thor says, narrowing his eyes and yanking the sash at his waist in a way Loki assumes he thinks to be dramatic. "Nine moons, brother.”

As Thor's footsteps die away; he listens for splashing, for movement, for sneaking. But there’s nothing. He steps out the emerald slippers and pads back to the door, turning the handle with a final, furtive glance behind him.

He expects to see you draped nude over the chaise in the corner, or perhaps spread for him at the edge of the baths with hungry longing in your sharp eyes...but you’re gone. Loki frowns and stalks to the pillar which concealed you before. “Borr’s blood,” he hisses under his breath, scanning the room.

And then he sees it; something silken and knotted loops around the balcony pillars, glimmering in moonlight. He realises suddenly that the draping which normally billows in the evening breeze is gone. Loki smirks as he paces to the balcony and casts a cursory look over the edge. The makeshift ladder hangs to the level below. The royal laundry, if he’s not mistaken; the same hot spring source. “Nine moons,” he repeats quietly to the silence, rapping his knuckles against the marble twice before turning away with a smile.

💖Thanks for joining me for this lil journey! 🕯️Tags in comments x Read Chapter Two, Successional Pleasure HERE

#loki x reader #loki smut #the rite #loki fanfiction #loki x you #loki x you smut #loki odinson #loki odinson x reader #lokismut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x yn #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki imagine

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shanastoryteller · 6 months ago

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Sam seems convinced this is going to work, but Dean’s pretty sure it’s just a load of crap. Bobby’s even more convinced that it’s a whole lot of nothing, although he had admitted that he couldn’t read every symbol that Sam had added to this mess up devil’s trap. That didn’t mean it would work. It just meant that Sam had thrown everything he could think into it.

The real reason that Dean is going along with this, and probably Bobby is too, is because it means that Sam wouldn’t be alone after Dean is dragged to hell. Although standing in the middle of Bobby’s junkyard in a mess of spray paint isn’t exactly how he’d wanted to spend the last hour of his life.

“You really think Lilith is going to show?” he asks. He doesn’t know why she would. She just has to send the hellhounds, who’s howls and yips Dean has been hearing for days. And those things have never been stopped by any sort of devil’s trap.

“Yes,” Sam says, tense, not looking at him.

That’s another thing. For weeks Sam has barely looked at him, barely talked to him. Which sucks, because he’d really wanted to spend the last weeks of his life just looking and talking to and spending time with his brother, but Sam hadn’t been interested in that. At all.

He shares a look with Bobby, who just shrugs, hands tight on his shotgun.

Then the hellhounds come, just like he knew they would, no Lilith in sight. “Sammy,” he says, reaching out for his brother. Not because he thinks he can do anything, but because he wants to touch Sam one last time, one last memory to sustain him through hell.

Sam snaps out his hand and the hellhounds go skittering back, letting out pained yowls.

Dean stares, not understanding. “What did you – wait. You can see them?”

Only he should be able to see them. He’s the one that made the deal.

Sam still won’t look at him, damnit, even as Dean fists his hand in the back of his shirt. Sam's voice is low and pained when he says, “I’m sorry.”

Fear clenches in his gut. But before he do anything, there are demons surrounding the devil’s trap, appearing one by one in Bobby’s junkyard. They’d needed to take down his protections so Lilith could get in, but they hadn’t expected this. Of course she brought a freaking audience.

“Which one of you is Lilith?” he barks out, dragging Sam behind him. He refuses to let the last thing he sees be his brother hurt, or worse.

Dozens of demons stand there, human vessels with pitch black eyes. The hellhounds whimper and slink around them, but don’t seem interested in getting any closer. Dean can’t blame them.

Sam pries his hand off of him, stepping away before Dean can grab onto him again. He leaves the safety of the devil’s trap, which is fucking stupid. Dean’s lunging forward to stop him, but then there’s Bobby’s arm holding him back, face pale with a horror Dean doesn’t understand. He hadn’t looked like that even at Cold Oak, when they’d seen the gates open to hell.

The demons bow.

He blinks, not understanding what he’s seeing.

Sam is standing there in front of them, no protections, and they’re all bowing to him.

Except one.

Ruby is there, stupid red leather jacket and blonde hair and the smirk he hates so much. She walks around the demons up to Sam, who’s face is cold and expressionless. “She’s coming.”

“I know,” he says. “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to kill you.”

“Promise?” she returns. “If this doesn’t work, death will be a mercy.”

Dean tries to push Bobby off of him, to get in between Sam and this bitch, but he doesn’t let go.

Then there’s a little girl in a white dress, head tilted to the side. “Something here belongs to me.”

Ruby flinches, stepping just slightly behind Sam.

“Not you,” she sneers. “You haven’t belonged to me in a long time, I fear. You really think that this boy can save you?”

“Sam,” Ruby says.

He sighs, like this is a trial, and raises his hand.

Lilith’s sneer drops from her face. Her upper body yanks forward, but her legs won't move. “You bastard,” she snarls, raising her hand in return, but nothing happens.

For the first time, fear flickers across her face.

Ruby steps forward, her own terror swallowed up by arrogance, by delight.

Dean tries to move, but finds he’s just as frozen as Lilith, even more so. He can’t twitch a single muscle. Going by Bobby’s unnatural stillness next to him, he assumes he’s in the same boat.

“Samuel is the heir of the light bringer,” Ruby says. “He has taken his birthright. You can’t touch him.”

What’s she talking about? What birthright?

What has Sam done?

“No,” Lilith snarls. “He’s nothing more than one of Azazel’s experiments.”

“A night, a full day, and then morning,” Ruby says. “That’s what he was. Then he rose on the third day.” She shoots a mocking look his way. “If it weren’t for his brother, he would have died nothing more than a failed experiment. But he has risen.”

No. What does that mean? What’s she saying? He had just wanted Sammy back.

Did he do this? Is this his fault?

“Ruby,” Sam says, a note of warning in his voice.

“Right, right,” she sighs. Then, back to gleeful, “Her eyes.”

Sam’s finger twitches and Lilith’s eyes bleed black tears.

She screams, the sound even worse because her vessel is a child.

Ruby lists thing after thing, pulling out her fingernails, peeling her skin. Her blood is black, none of it red, and the injuries shouldn’t really be hurting her but they clearly are. Dean watches helplessly as Sam tortures Lilith at Ruby’s command, enacting one terrible thing against her after another.

Lilith lies there, moaning, limbs broken, body in pieces.

“That’s enough,” Sam says.

“Enough?” Ruby hisses, turning to face him. “You know what she did to me! She – she–”

Sam’s stoic mask breaks, creasing in sympathy. Dean would prefer it wasn’t for a demon, for Ruby, but at least he now recognizes his brother. He raises his free hand to her head, his touch an oddly gentle counterpoint to everything he’s done to Lilith. “I know. But it’s enough.”

Tears glint in her eyes, just for a second, then she swallows and nods, stepping away from Sam’s hand.

He steps forward, crouching in front of Lilith. “You shouldn’t have come after my brother. Now we both have to live with the consequences.” His mouth twists. "So to speak."

Whatever she would have said in response is lost in her screams. Black smoke pours from her, then lights up, like a spark in steel wool, the fire moving through her reminding him almost of the Colt.

Lilith dies. Sam kills her, no Colt, no devil’s trap. Nothing but his own terrifying powers.

“Will you bow to me now?” he asks.

Ruby tears her eyes from Lilith’s corpse and her irritating fucking smirk slides back into place. “Now?” She steps closer, tilting her head back almost like she’s about to kiss him, then falls gracefully to her knees in front of him. It looks more like she’s about to give him a blowjob than a form of subservience, but he thinks that for a moment Sam almost seems amused. “I bowed to you first.”

“So you did,” he says softly. He raises his voice. “Move out. Casey. You know your job.”

“Yes, sire,” says one of the demons, voice almost familiar.

Then Sam’s walking away, Ruby just a step behind him. The other demons follow suit, the hellhounds not even glancing at Dean as they get caught up in the procession.

Sam still won’t look at him. He only sees the back of his brother’s head as he leaves him behind

The only demon left is Casey. He knows her, he recognizes her, the demon he’d been trapped with in that city full of sin, the one that Sam had shot and killed. He’d seen him kill her.

She gets to her feet, offering him a smile as she draws closer. “Hello, Dean. I bet you never thought you’d see me again.”

She steps right into the devil’s trap and presses a hand to him and Bobby each. As soon as she touches them, they’re able to move, darting away from her and leaving her stuck in the devil’s trap.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, wishing his voice wasn’t shaking, but he has more important things to worry about.

She turns to face them. “Samuel does not want you to die. He did what he had to do to ensure you wouldn’t.”

“The fuck you talking about?” Bobby asks gruffly.

“I told you back then I was ready to follow Sam,” she says, stepping out of the devil’s trap like it’s nothing, which she definitely shouldn’t be able to do. Bobby hadn't thought that this thing would be able to contain Lilith, but Casey’s nowhere near Lilith’s level. It should work on her just fine.

Bobby’s hand darts out, throwing holy water over her, but it doesn’t so much as steam.

She just looks amused. “That won’t work on me now. Neither will an exorcism, or any of the usual tricks. I have been purified.” She holds out her hand to Dean and it’s the Colt, the one that they’d lost when Bela sold it. “This is the only thing that will kill me now.”

“And you’re just handing it over?” Dean asks.

“I have my orders,” she says steadily. “Samuel wants you to have it.”

His entire body goes gold.

“What do you mean purified?” Bobby asks, shooting Dean a concerned look. “You’re a demon. Purifying you should kill you.”

“And was Lucifer a demon?” she asks. “I have taken the sacrament.”

Dean doesn’t know what that means, but Bobby’s expression shifts from disgust to shock to a horror filled curiosity. “You drank Sam’s blood?”

She did what?

“I have taken the sacrament,” she repeats, lifting her chin. “Samuel purified me.”

How the hell would Sam’s blood do that? Why had she drank it in the first place? She’s a demon, not a damn vampire. Dean pushes those questions aside and instead asks, “How are you even alive?”

“Samuel resurrected me,” she says. First he can kill demons, and now he can bring them back? “He knows we had a rapport and he thought it would be easier if it was me.”

“What would be easier?” he asks. His head is spinning and his heart hurts and he doesn’t understand anything that just happened. At least being dragged to hell would have been simpler.

She presses the Colt into his hands. “Samuel doesn’t want you to die. He knows this will be difficult for you, that you’ll make poor choices. I have my orders. I am to stay with you and keep you alive. We’re going to get to know each other very well, Dean.”

“Like hell,” he says gruffly, hand tightening as he takes the Colt and raises it to her head. “What’s to stop me from killing you?”

“The same thing that will stop you from killing Samuel,” she says and he flinches. “Nothing.”

He stares at her. He can’t bring himself to speak.

“You’ll have to hunt him down the old fashioned way,” she says casually. “But if you can find him, you can kill him. We’re all under orders not to touch you. Samuel won’t stop you if you want kill him. The same way I won’t stop you if you want to kill me.”

“Why?” he asks.

She shrugs. “It’s always been up to you, Dean. He trusts you. If you decide that he must die, then he’s willing to die.”

Dean sold his soul for him. He’s not going to fucking kill him.

But the Sam he sold his soul for wasn’t capable of doing that to Lilith. He wouldn’t have even wanted to be.

“What about your demon lover?” Dean asks, thinking of the priest that Casey had embraced and kissed, the demon she’d begged to spare Dean’s life before Sam had killed them both. “Sam bring him back too?”

Grief chases across her face before she smooths it away. “He will. If I am good, and obedient, and loyal, then Samuel will bring him back for me.”

Dean’s stomach rolls to hear Sam described like that, like some sort of tyrant or king. Like Dad. “You really believe that?”

Casey meets his gaze steadily as she echoes the words she’d said to him in that basement as she spoke of Lucifer, except now she’s talking about his brother. “I have faith.”

#children yearn for the original S3 ending #supernatural

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hey-august · 2 months ago

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Yours, Mine, Ours

All the appreciation to this anon for their wonderful proclamation about pegging the clown with his own equipment.

WC: ~1500 Warnings: NSFW, buggy x afab!reader, male masturbation, hand job, buggy gets his own pearl necklace, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, anal sex, misuse of chop chop powers ofc, profanity, spit as lube, creampie

“Can I try?”

“Wha-yeah,” Buggy replied. The movement rippling through the mattress ended when he stopped stroking himself. His freed erection bobbed in anticipation, alternating between tapping and hovering over a trail of sticky blue body hair.

“No, no, I want to do it. Myself.” You wrapped your hand around the invisible request and pantomimed jacking off.

Another twitch from his dick.

“It looks fun when you do it. I dunno, sometimes I wish I could try,” you explained, suddenly second guessing what you wanted.

This was stupid. You’ve given Buggy a hand job before (plenty of times, really), so what’s the difference? It’s not like you’d know what it would actually feel like to have a penis just because you’re borrowing someone else’s. Any sensations would transfer back to the real owner and all you’d feel is a dick in your hand.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Buggy’s voice. “Here,” he said while handing over the object of your curiosity. “Not like you’re the only one who pretends this belongs to someone else. He probably has an identity crisis at this point.”

Buggy laughed at his comment - a confession that you had heard before. It didn’t surprise you, honestly. What did surprise you was how turned on Buggy became while telling you about how he’d fuck himself. How his voice grew husky and he spoke faster and faster, eager to replay the fantasy with an audience. Maybe that’s what he understood now - the desire for a faraway reality that could be tasted for a brief moment.

Although his erection wouldn’t pop onto your body like it would with his, Buggy was thoughtful about where it would sit on your pelvis. He placed it down, the flat surface warm against your skin, then moved it a little here and there before he was satisfied.

“Not bad,” he mumbled.

Whether it was about the placement or how it looked on a new (temporary) owner was unclear, but you knew which you wanted to believe.

“Can you make it do the thing?” You wiggled a finger and Buggy barked out a laugh.

It flexed and throbbed, bowing towards you then standing at hard attention. You were breathless.

Dragging a light touch from base to tip, you felt an ache so deep that it fell outside of your body. A familiar feel of longing, but this time it wasn’t threatening to drag you down with it. This time, it was tethered and you were holding the anchor. Sure, the nerves in the borrowed body part didn’t connect to your system, but that didn’t stop the electricity rippling out from your touch.

“Stay there,” you grunted while rolling over on the bed with only one hand keeping you steady. The other one did not want to stop holding the hot weight.

You ignored Buggy’s bemused expression as you straddled the pirate’s torso and wedged your legs beneath his ribs. His hands found a place to rest on top of your thighs, where his thumbs rubbed little spells of affection and encouragement.

“Not a bad view,” he quipped through an off-set grin.

“Yeah,” you agreed. It was. Now you understood that bizarre impulse to slap a thick cock against someone’s cheek.

Your eyes went hazy, switching between the two delicious focal points before you - Buggy’s myriad of expressions, and the blur of your hand stroking yourself. Twisting your wrist at the tip felt natural. The precum that dribbled from the tip and onto the crook of your pointer finger seemed to belong there. Fuck, you felt so goddamn hard and swollen.

Buggy’s heavy breathing rocked you ever so slightly. His legs kicked and twitched beneath you. His broad hands rubbed your legs, as though he was trying to push back what was rapidly approaching.

“M’gonna- you’re gonna-” Buggy keened as his body stiffened.

You kept pumping, sending ropes of hot cum across his chest and neck. Gasps accompanied each spurt, full of your own surprise and relief. At the end of the final stroke, you wrapped your thumb and pointer around the sensitive head and eased the last few drops away from the slit.

You shivered slightly.

So did Buggy.

His eyes closed, but he wasn’t relaxed. His brow was pulled into a frown and you could see his jaw clenching and releasing as he rode out the aftershock of his orgasm. Your orgasm.

Buggy tilted his head and rolled it against a shoulder. “Tickles,” he muttered. “I didn’t think there was going to be so much.”

A chuckle fluttered inside of you, along with the wing beats of butterflies. Horny little butterflies. Taking advantage of the fake connection between you and the simulated arousal, you cradled the softening dick in your hand.

Buggy’s frown deepened and he cracked an eye open as a warning.

“Please, I need to fuck you. Baby, please. You look so hot covered in my cum,” you begged. The words rushed out and your body chased them with rolling hips.

Bucking the half-hard erection into your hand earned a hiss from below. “Sss-stop~! Oh fuck, slow the fuck down.” Buggy’s fingers dug into the meat of your thigh, squeezing bruises into the flexing muscles until you stopped.

“Give me a break, fuck,” he groaned before bringing his arms up and crossing them to rest his head on. “Listen, you need a second to recover after cumming like that, alright? What am I to you, a piece of meat?”

Yes. Maybe.

“Sorry, Buggs. I forgot how sensitive you are.”

The glare he shot you was worth it. And, unfortunately for Buggy, you were able to replace the expression with one that was much more pathetic and delicious. Your gentle hold changed slowly, although not as slow as Buggy himself would have gone. Rather than stroking, you squeezed so daintily that it was more of a hug. Then a little pull. A pulse in pressure, which was returned with a bit of growth.

Soon enough, Buggy was whimpering and whining and begging to be fucked. Begging you to get on with it.

So you did. Settled between his legs, you ran your hand along his leg, grazing the hair on his shin before reaching his knee and pushing it aside. Meanwhile, your other hand remained busy with other activities.

Buggy’s groans were cracking at the ends, too full of impatience, need, and overstimulation. And when you pressed the dripping tip against his entrance, his noises fell apart completely. In the quiet, you rubbed the blunt head up and down, smearing precum as lube.

Leaning against his body, you bent forwards and spit. And missed. The bubbly saliva fell too close to your body and caught on your thumb. Not wanting the intention to go to waste, you rubbed your wet thumb against Buggy’s hole. Then, because you might as well, you slipped it in his ass.

The moan that came from Buggy’s mouth was obscene, but not as much as how his body pulsed and puckered around your thumb.

“Oh you like this, huh? It’s like your body is begging to have me inside, Buggy.”

Another whorish moan.

Your mind was reset - emptied of all prior times you pegged Buggy with his dick and replaced with this moment. This new experience of you fucking him. You screwing the captain with your cock.

Even watching yourself slide in and stretch him open seemed like something you hadn’t seen before. It was you doing this. You were the reason he was stuttering and whimpering. You were the reason he was telling you to hurry up and slow down. You were the reason he was complaining and boasting about being so full.

“That’s it, babe,” Buggy cried to the ceiling. “C’mon, you’re doing a good job. Keep going.”

Oh fuck, if that’s what he wanted, you were going to give it to him. You pushed his legs up and towards his chest, squeezing excess air from his chest.

“Oh fuck, oh yes,” he said, with enough volume and pride to make you blush.

Buggy’s hands hooked beneath his knees to aid you and your feral activities.

“That’s right, fuck me like you don’t know me,” he encouraged.

Those words broke something in you. Whatever cry came from your lips was raw and instinctual. Pleading and hungry, in need of something that it couldn’t have, and wanting to feast on this facsimile.

You rutted into Buggy hard. Slamming your hips into him, hoping that you could bury yourself deep enough to actually feel it. And if you couldn’t, then you would damn well feel every other sensation. You could hardly catch your breath as every thrust took everything from you, leaving you desperate for oxygen and an orgasm.

The orgasm arrived first and it came with a coarse shout from Buggy.

“Unnnngh, d-don’t stop.” The words were choked out between intelligible sounds.

The request barely registered, since your mind was still lost to the eternal need to hump something. More than the second climax causing you to stop, it was the lack of oxygen making you woozy. With your head and the room starting to spin, you eventually came to a stop. Carefully pinching the base, you pulled away and left the temporary piece of you buried deep.

“That was fun,” you sighed, exhausted and enlightened.

“Uh-huh, yeah,” Buggy responded weakly through his own tired smile.

Your laugh shifted into a grimace at the sensation of your slick between your thighs cooling, a stark contrast to the heat still burning in your core.

Maybe your kind and extremely generous partner would be willing to lend you a hand next.

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut #hey-august buggy fic

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yerimacoustic · 6 months ago

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𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚🤍𝙟𝙤𝙨𝙝𝙪𝙖 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

↳ ❝ 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 ❞

summary: after the princess falls mysteriously ill, joshua, born with powers no one else in the palace knows about, becomes her caretaker.

content warnings: joshua x female reader, fantasy/regency au, steward/secret sorcerer!joshua x princess!reader, friends to lovers, deep conversations, yearning, mentions of illness, cursing, reader’s family has a lot of lore, secrets, more tags to come! joshua and reader are both in their early twenties btw

notes: this is a teaser for an upcoming joshua fic! full fic is here please interact if you like it!

lavish parties were a common occurrence at the palace, and birthdays were no exception. although your own birthday had been celebrated a handful of times, you still never quite got used to all of the attention. to the spotlight. and now that you were finally of marrying age, there was an added pressure, as potential suitors most likely filled the audience.

after what felt like hours of dancing, polite conversing and forcing smiles, your mother had pulled you aside. after explaining that she wanted to present your gift in private, she eagerly watched you untie the tiny pink ribbon encircling the red box that fit perfectly in the palm of your hand. a gold, heart shaped locket lay inside, shining in the candlelight despite being an ancient heirloom.

the necklace had been passed down from generation to generation for centuries. your mother felt there was no need to explain the sentimental value the necklace held, instead stating that she had been eagerly awaiting this day since the moment you were born. suddenly, you felt silly wondering if she was pulling you aside to offer some comforting words of assurance.

no pressure.

actually, once the thin chain found its way around your neck, it felt as if it bore an actual weight on your shoulders. after all, you knew fully well what it symbolized- as the eldest daughter, you would be taking the throne one day. and as you began to take another turn around the dance floor, you came to the stunning realization that this was no ordinary birthday party.

you weren’t exactly sure if your corset was too tight or if a mysterious figure was suddenly sucking all the air out of the room- either way, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. once you felt that enough backs were turned on you, you shuffled towards the nearest french doors. once they were closed behind you and you were met with the bitter winter air, you let out a prolonged sigh.

with your palms resting flat on the ledge you looked up to the stars, finding comfort in the way they seemed to shine so brightly that night in particular. you quickly became fixated on the patterns and puzzles in the sky, wishing that you could pluck them off of the dark blanket like small diamonds. music gently began to ring through the air as the doors behind you carefully swung open and closed in a brisk motion. even so, you didn’t bother to look back and greet your visitor.

you were expecting the visitor to be one of your family members, maybe even your lady’s maid. holding back a sigh, you closed your eyes and spoke in a delicate tone, “i’ll be back inside in a moment.”

“no pressure,” a familiar voice behind you spoke. your eyes went wide upon hearing the man’s silky cadence and you, of course, were pleasantly surprised that it was probably the last person you expected to visit you.

you turned around to see joshua standing close to the two doors, as if he was awaiting your permission to come closer. he was quick to bow politely once your eyes were locked, earning a gentle scoff from you, “please- there’s no need for formalities. we’re not in public.”

he took a quick look behind him, reaffirming that there still were, in fact, lacy curtains covering the barred windows on the doors. a sheepish smile that seemed to light up the air between you two was sent in your direction before he stepped carefully towards you. “forgive me for disturbing you- but i wanted to ask if.. the princess was doing alright?”

you chuckled upon hearing his gentle tone and watching him approach you in the same timid manner. “well- the princess is doing as well as expected, under the circumstances. let’s just put it at that.”

this time it was the young steward’s turn to chuckle, mirroring your position and resting both hands on the balcony’s ledge. “the majority of the guests may not have noticed your strained expressions, princess, but i did.” he paused, looking over to you with a smile that instantly warmed your heart with reassurance. “if you ever need someone to talk to-”

“thank you.” gently cutting him off, you moved your hand to rest on top of his. an already shuddered breath caught in your throat once your eyes met again and a heated blush scattered across his cheeks. a similar warmth grew within your own cheekbones, prompting you to raise your free hand upwards to let your fingertips graze the area.

“you’re welcome,” he whispered to you, unable to break away from your gaze for even a moment. never in his wildest dreams did he expect to share a moment like this with you, the princess, someone he had stolen secret glances at in crowded ballrooms and halls for as long as he could remember.

the two of you were both raised in the palace, after all. so close yet so far- until now.

and yet, he didn’t dare to move another inch. even if his free hand was aching to brush delicately through your curls, or along the curve of your jawline.. “princess..?”

“yes?” you asked with a slight strain in your tone. after all, you unknowingly held a similar line of thinking as joshua’s. you always considered the steward to be a handsome man, but never knew the great details of his beauty until that moment, as you stood closer to him than you ever had before.

he had been wrestling with the dilemma of what to tell you since he’d plucked up the courage to walk through those doors. that much was evident by the way he quietly cleared his throat, pausing abruptly before speaking again, “i.. just want you to know that everything’s going to be alright. you’re going to be a wonderful leader someday.”

you weren’t sure what you were expecting (or hoping) him to say, but his beautiful words provided you with much needed reassurance. suddenly.. the prospects of becoming queen didn’t seem so daunting, now knowing that he would be there to support you.

“you’re so.. sweet,” you thought out loud shamelessly.

“you sound surprised,” his smile widened as he let out a gentle laugh.

“no, not surprised- just-” you bowed your head and chuckled sheepishly. “i suppose i should have taken more time to get to know you. we did technically grow up together, after all.”

“well..better late than never.” the young man’s attention averted towards your intertwined hands on the ledge, his smile growing fainter. as if he was stuck in quiet contemplation. suddenly, snowflakes began to gently fall. it was beautiful, picturesque, the way they fell and gently twinkled in the starlight.

joshua couldn’t help but laugh as he watched some of the powdery snowflakes attach to your hair, finally leaning in to the prompting to brush through the silky strands. “don’t want your hair getting too wet,” he chuckled sweetly.

“of course not,” you giggled quietly in return and stepped closer, allowing him to brush his fingers through your locks in an attempt to rid the small crystals. his gentle movements continued until your hair was pushed behind your shoulder, exposing a part of your collarbone to the cold. “joshua, i-”

“y/n!” your brother swung the doors open, prompting the two of you to take a step backwards and unlace your hands. jeonghan’s gaze shifted between both of you, the guilty parties, as he folded his arms across his chest. but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that reassured you he wouldn’t tell your secret.

“what is it?” you groaned, annoyed that a wonderful moment was interrupted by your brother, of all people.

“mother and father are wondering where you’ve been, of course,” he chuckled, raising an eyebrow in your direction. “they sent me to look for you. i suggest you get a move on before they start looking, themselves.”

you made no attempt to disguise your annoyance, rolling your eyes before brushing through your hair once more for good measure. “i suppose you’re right.”

before too long, jeonghan had made his way back inside the ballroom, slamming the door shut behind him in a quick attempt to reunite with his dancing partner. you stole one more glance at the burgundy-haired man standing at the ledge after crossing to the french doors, smiling gently to him, “thank you again.”

“i’ll be seeing you again soon.” he watched carefully as you stepped back into the ballroom, focusing on your figure until the lace in the window clouded his vision. a confused sigh escaped his parted lips, and just as he looked up at the sky, the snowflakes stopped falling. for unbeknownst to you, there was more to this young steward than met the eye.

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lomlkenji · 10 months ago

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༊*·˚ distraction | luke patterson

summary : luke can't help but be distracted by your presence at the band's show.

warnings : fluff, slight jealousy, adorable luke, stupid bobby, protective luke & supportive alex and reggie.

word count : 0.8k

author's note : hey babes! this a short imagine abt my baby luke <33 it's from my wattpad account :)) if you guys have any requests, you can send them!!

── ⋆⋅☆ main masterlist

Everyone was ecstatic. People were jumping, yelling, screaming the lyrics of Sunset Curve's songs. Their concerts were always the one to look forward to, and that's rich coming from you, seeing that you have been in almost all of them.

The fact that your boyfriend was their lead singer and guitarist was just a bonus. Their songs never failed to make someone dance like nobody's watching.

Luke's eye was locked on your as he sings his solo. the stupid smile never wiping off his face.

This interaction made girls close to you scream, thinking he was looking at them, when in fact he was looking at you and you only.

The venue was not that big but the people in the audience were loud enough to think otherwise. The stage was close to the crowd so Luke could walk towards you. eye contact never breaking, he was lost in your eyes and you were lost in his.

He honestly almost forgot the chords he was about to play and you almost forgot you were surrounded by roughly 30 girls.

He starts to walk slowly until he's in front of you. you had to bite your lip to stop you from bursting out laughing by the faces the girls made. their faces fell when he stood right in front of you.

but Reggie and Alex smiled at the utter joy radiating from you guys. From being best friends who completely denied their feelings for each other to not being afraid to show people that you guys were totally head over heels for each other.

When his solo ended, he didn't move an inch from where he stood. You guys continued to stare at each other lovingly, but when Alex beat his drum in a pattern you and Luke knew so much you snapped back to reality.

It was not the first time this happened. Luke has constantly forgotten about performing when you're there. and he wasn't ashamed of it in the tiniest bit.

you broke the stare and looked over luke's shoulder and saw Reggie and Alex giving you the look.

you rolled your eyes playfully and shook luke's shoulder lightly making him snap out of his daze.

"you're still in a show babe." you said to him, slightly yelling over the loud music.

his grin turned upwards even more if that was possible and moved to his original spot. but not before kissing your cheek.

The girl's eyes widen and look at you guys in surprise, jealousy and disgust. The disgust part was directed to you and you only.

but you didn't care. you didn't give two shits about them. your boy was up there doing the thing he loves most and that's all that matters.

Luckily for Luke the song was almost over, and when the lights started to dim, Alex was softly hitting the cymbal indicating the song's end.

"we're sunset curve! tell your friends!`` Reggie said to his mic before they bowed down and ran off stage. more like luke, ran off stage. Reggie, Alex and Bobby just shook their heads and followed after luke.

being faster than luke, you arrived first at the lounge area where they would hang out after a performance.

you were on the couch waiting for your best friends and boyfriend.

the door flung open, revealing a sweaty, grinning luke patterson. his eyes are practically sparkling at the sight of his girlfriend.

"babe!" Luke exclaimed, feeling more than happy to see you.

you stood up smiling at the joyful boy as he jogged towards you lifting you up and spinning you around making you laugh.

The action made you feel like the happiest girl on earth.

he puts you down and leaned his head down, softly connecting his lips with yours.

kissing luke is probably one of your favourite things to do. no matter how much you do it, the butterflies never go away or slow down.

"y/n, you need to stop coming to our shows dude." Bobby said, interrupting the sweet moment.

you and luke's head snapped towards bobby, "what why?" you asked, baffled, kind of offended at how his tone sounded.

"yeah why?" Luke sneered, as he wrapped a protective arm around your waist.

Bobby looked at you both in disbelief. "you're clearly distracting him!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

a laugh made its way out of you, as you said, "oohhh."

Reggie and Alex snickered behind Bobby at Luke's face. He looked like he was about to smash a car.

"Relax, Bobby, we figured that out already." Alex assured as he pats Bobby's back.

Reggie sat down at the sofa beside Alex and said, "yeah, if Luke was too distracted, Alex would play an extra beat. it goes like this 'ting tung tung bap' " he said, trying to imitate the sound which made you laugh.

Alex turned to look at Reggie, "exactly." Alex said, clearly impressed at how well he imitated his beat.

"Yeah, it will take a lot to get rid of me." you said, smirking.

"yeah, over my dead body" luke hissed, he's basically shaking from annoyance.

"Chill, I was joking." Bobby panicked, recognising the hostility in Luke's voice. it was the same voice he used on guys who were hitting on you, and he's not even flirting!

you laughed and intertwined your fingers with luke's that was gripping your waist. He instantly calmed at your touch, the familiar feeling made his insides fuzzy.

he looked down at you, to see you're looking up smiling at him, eyes filled with adoration. the boy smiled beforeleaning down, "a pretty damn gorgeous distraction." he muttered before sealing your lips together.

#⋆⋅☆ hana’s writing!#luke patterson x reader #jatp x reader #luke jatp x reader #luke patterson x y/n #julie and the phantoms imagines #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfiction #jatp imagine #jatp luke #jatp netflix

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accio-victuuri · 8 days ago

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THANK YOU, FILMMAKER WANG YIBO… 💕🫶🏼

this is a sort of recap post for the huabiao awards and basically a post to celebrate yibo and the amazing actor that he is. i know that we all have mixed feelings about this, and every other nomination that he didn’t win, but it’s important to go back to why we are here and support him. it’s because he is yibo and his works do not disappoint both the fans and the general audience. we already won when we watched those films — whenever that was for you.

we were all holding our breath if he will make it to the red carpet, sadly, he didn’t. that actually went on hs. his schedule was already so tight with the race and flying to qingdao. thankfully, his team took some excellent photos of him and with all the racer 85 related props 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

then as soon as he sat down, he was a bit late to the ceremony too, the host cued him and mentioned his name. he stood up and bowed to the audience. i love the cheers for him!

the award for outstanding actor was early, i guess all of us got nervous and hopeful that he will get it. he didn’t but he was so gracious. he was nodding and clapping. the tag on hs for him is how you can’t lipread what he’s saying. some are guessing that he said that it’s not easy, meaning it’s not easy to win it. and considering he was up against zhang yi, it makes sense.

you probably read about how hard it is to get nominated for this category. this award is given every 2 years. no distinction between supporting and main actor and there are only 2 nominees. just imagine all the eligible movies and actors — but still, yibo was chosen. he is the first post 90s actor to get nominated. and this is technically, within his first year of being a movie actor and releasing his works.

i have no bad blood with zhang yi. he is a well loved actor and what a coincidence that they both posted about each other’s movie before, and now, they ended up being nominated side by side.

yibo recognizes excellence. if anything, i’m sure this makes him want to strive more to be on that level. i’m trying hard to not quote timothee chalamet’s SAG speech here but it fits so well — “ i know we’re in a subjective business, but the truth is I’m really in pursuit of greatness. I know people don’t usually talk like that, but I want to be one of the greats.” and he is on his way to becoming one of the greats. it’s a privilege to watch him grow into that, and i hope we all stay on for years to come and see it happen.

the surprise was how he was actually gonna be onstage. not only that, he was there with zhang ziyi and jackie chan to give a tribute to Chinese Cinema. it makes me proud to see him be the representative of the young generation. because he really is. and he doesn’t even need to pretend and perform to be that — he already is. it comes natural to him.

overall, he was in a good mood. why wouldn’t he? he is attending an event celebrating the movies he worked hard for. tho my favorite is when he smiled like a kid after he presented on stage and how he was interacting with his seat mates — especially Ma Li.

lastly, i’ll talk about some pre-awards chatter. weeks before, people were talking about if yibo would go or not. moreso, if he will be nominated. it’s so ironic cause his antis were babbling about how people that are not invited are blacklisted cause it’s the 120th anniversary celebration. but lo and behold — not only is he attending. all the films he participated in are nominated. he is nominated as best actor. and during the broadcast, he went onstage with jackie chan and zhang ziyi. 😂😂😂😂

it’s the usual song and dance. it’s yibo’s favorite past time. proving his haters wrong.

same thing with them saying he is “banned” because it’s been a while since his last movie project - mermaid. clearly not. tonight’s program showed how he is the movie darling. he is just doing what he said he will be in his past interview, that he wants to experience the world to be able to be better in his craft. i couldn’t get that out of my head when he said it and that explains all his decisions. he is gonna be so selective with his next movie project and i’m excited what he picks next! he’s always had an excellent intuition of what roles will work well and challenge him. the rest can breathe for a while cause he is not coming for their wigs — yet. lol. i have a feeling that as soon as mermaid is out, he is gonna raise the bar again. we just have to wait patiently.

anyway, that’s all. the road ahead is long and we will continue to accompany actor wang yibo! 💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼

#wang yibo #I AM TOXIC ACTOR WANG YIBO FAN MOST OF THE TIME #just an excuse to talk about yibo lol

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sleepy-steve · 8 months ago

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🧠🪱 Wiggly Wednesday 🪱🧠

thank you for the tag @stervrucht 🖤

no pressure tags: @stevesbipanic @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @wheneverfeasible and of course, anyone who wants to throw their brain worms at me ✨

thinking about modern au metal-burlesque performer eddie and audience participant steve (who was dragged along by robin probably, at her insistence that he would definitely enjoy it).

eddie is the last performer of the night, and so far steve has definitely enjoyed the show. robin makes them sit at the table front and centre, so the dancers have interacted with them a little, waving feathered fans in their faces, tossing clothing garments at them, little touches and grazes as the performers step down from the stage to wander the audience. while it’s not really steve’s thing, it’s been a bit of fun.

then. eddie walks onto a pitch black stage. a red spotlight shines on him as a dark, heavy beat begins. eddie turns as the vocals start (music very much that filthy horny metal kind), and he looks nothing like the previous performers. he’s all tattoos and piercings and wild hair and ripped jeans and leather jacket.

steve is immediately starstruck. the whole audience is transfixed. eddie is one of those performers that does next to nothing and the audience just fucking eats it up.

letting his jacket hit the ground, he walks the stage, looking for his victim of the evening. he spots steve, in his glasses and pale sweater and soft swoopy hair and eddie zeroes in on him immediately. steve gets pulled up on stage and guided to a chair, where eddie (after confirming it’s okay) runs his leather gloved hands up steve’s arms and across his shoulders and down his chest from behind.

as the performance continues, steve is close to short circuiting, unsure how and when he became so revved up over another man teasing to take off what looks to be a band tee cut into a loose tank top, but here he is.

at one part, eddie kneels in front of steve, spreading his legs apart and head rolling towards steve’s crotch (an absolute classic) and steve speedruns his sexuality crisis right then and there because he’s gonna need this hot tattooed man on his knees in front of him forever.

eddie teases taking off his leather gloves, shoving his fingers from his other hand into the opening in a way that is so lewd. with one glove off, he brings the other to steve’s mouth and commands him to bite it.

holding the finger tip of the glove in his teeth, steve is helpless watching as eddie playfully pulls at it, like it’s hard to get the glove off, like having it removed this way is turning him on. he’s touching himself up and down his chest and panting, before finally letting his hand free of the glove.

steve quickly shoves the glove in his pocket as eddie moves to sit in his lap, rolling his back against steve’s chest, running his hands up his chest as he finally removes his shirt, only to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. eddie guides steve’s hands to his chest—steve feeling the nipple piercings hidden beneath—and lets steve unclasp the bra from the front.

the show is over way too soon, with eddie tossing the bra into the crowd. eddie brings steve up to bow, the audience going absolutely crazy for them. guiding steve back down off the stage, eddie gives him a cheeky smile and a wink before disappearing offstage.

robin is losing her whole mind over all of it, and steve is kinda sad that he won’t get to see eddie again. but robin points out that he just might get to.

because steve still has the leather glove in his pocket.

#this was a really fun idea to play with #and maybe…….maybe i wrote something more detailed on this #i will probably never get to a wiggly wednesday on an actual wednesday lmfao #cira writes #wiggly wednesday #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic

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constellationclarke · 8 months ago

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Hadestown today for Grace and Dónal's final performances was actually insane. The energy was electric, every single performer on stage gave it their fucking all as though it was also their last performance too, right off the bat everyone was already emotional, the crowd was wild and cheering insanely loud at the very beginning, all the emotional moments were 10x more tender. Dónal's last If It's True was actually fucking crazy it was a showstopper to the point that when it ended not only did everyone applaud like usual but everyone stood up for a grand standing ovation. (Also I was sat next to his parents!! When everyone came out on stage at the beginning his mum stood up and waved and clapped for him, I was so emotional!) During Promises when Eurydice says "You finished it" about Orpheus finally completing his song the whole theatre erupted into cheers and applause (that never happens in that moment). When Grace has her big note at the end of Wait for Me (Reprise) the cheering and applause was so loud. The audience was just electric like never before, the cheering and applause for every single song had such a different and more intense feel to it than any other day. When Orpheus turns around and loses Eurydice the whole theatre held its breath and you could hear a pin drop when Hermes starts singing the finale. Melanie started it so so quietly and solemnly and tragically and it was so beautiful. Everyone on stage was crying when they came to take their bows and Madeline got a moment of appreciation since she's taking over as Eurydice. Dónal and Grace had extended applause moments. Everyone was a sobbing mess during We Raise Our Cups, both audience and cast alike AND!! The rest of the cast (swings and understudies) came out during the song to raise their cups as well!! And then Melanie asked everyone to be seated again and called all the tech team out to stage too, taught us a call and response she'd like us to keep in mind from a storytelling tradition back in Trinidad and Tobago (sorry I can't remember it rn I was too much of an emotional wreck!!) And then she gave Grace and Dónal respectively a beautiful heart felt genuine lovely speech and goodbye, there was not a dry eye in the whole place. She asked everyone on stage to create a path and then sent Grace and Dónal off with a rhyme and the call and response she taught us, and they walked off the way Orpheus and Eurydice would have walked out of hell together if he hadn't turned around!!!!!, and they stopped at the top just before the exit to wave bye to everyone and honestly there's probably loads I'm missing out on but I cried too damn much to be able to have the mental capacity to even formulate thoughts so if anyone else was there today and has anything to add please do so!!!! 😭 it was an insane time and I'm so so glad I got to be there and experience it, it was pure magic. I got this vid of the bows and you can see how emotional everyone was but had to cut it off as We Raise Our Cups started because my hands were shaking so much (I have a full vid of the song from months ago tho if anyone wants to see it just search on my blog)

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arkhammaid · 1 year ago

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— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE LIVERY LAUNCH

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. the stark racing f1 team launches their livery

content warnings. written in 3rd person/lowercase, written + smau, not edited/proofread

word count. 0.8k + smau parts

notes. the main arc begins!!

y/n doesn't do nervous. not as l/n, not as stark- it's simply not in her nature. yet when the lights dimm and the audience starts to grow silent, her heart was up hear throat and she tried to dry her sweaty palms on her race suit.

"there is no need for that", muttered her teammate right behind her and she almost jumped. she glared at him, but he just grinned and gave her two thumbs up.

"don't do that, it makes you look old." he immediately put them down and she snorted.

"alright, you two, are you ready?" a stark employee, more specifically a stark racing employee, ushered them across the backstage all the way beneath it, ready to push them to the big event.

the car launch. the livery reveal. the introduction of stark to formula one, probably the most anticipated event of the year. unlike the other teams, they've been teasing the public for several weeks now, nothing concrete. speculations were all over social media, no one was even sure what main color stark racing would have, something the marketing team was very proud of.

now they would not only reveal the car, which would dominate the season (because- who are they kidding? they definitely will) but also the branding and race suits, and officially appear as drivers in one place.

the music started to play, the room darkened and the lightshow started. but y/n couldn't see anything of it happen. instead she was guided to the platform, which would bring her on stage, and put her helmet on.

a whole minute they would have to wait, a pre-recorded speech entertaining the guests and viewers all around the world, until she and kevin would appear in total darkness.

and they did. the platform brought them up silently, the room blacked out completely, until the lights behind them flashed on, shining on their backs.

the whole thing could be described as dramatic, over the top, but it fit. it fit the name, her father, herself. to show up with a bang.

"introducing... our drivers. y/n l/n-stark, number 95 and kevin magnussen, number 20! a round of applause everyone!" thunderous applause filled the giant room, people started to shout, when they finally took of their helmets.

with a grin, y/n spread her arms, raising her head and then her helmet over it. she stood proud and tall, all stark.

an assistant rushed to the stage, taking their helmets, to allow them complete freedom during their part of the reveal. y/n immediately took over, as it had been planned.

"welcome everyone, to the official launch of stark racing formula one team! i'm honored to introduce to you not only the car itself, but also the team." with a wide grin, she turned to kevin, who nodded to her.

"i'm sure you've all waited for him, our team principal, four-times worldchampion... sebastian vettel!" the room thundered again, cameras flashed, when seb walked on stage to stand between the two drivers. he waved to the crowd and bowed with a laugh, when they wouldn't stop cheering.

"thank you, thank you. wow, what a welcome! i'm very happy to be here, it has been a few years... but now we're back- and i'm thankful for the oppurtunity i've received. y/n, kevin... to a good season. to our fans, we all thank you for your support you've already showed, it's been incredible so far!"

"it's a special occasion, for all of us. and we have something very special for you", y/n winked, while slowly walking backwards, until she stood right in front of the gigantic screen, lightly knocking with her knuckle on it. a ripple animation waved across the screen and the room dimmed again. hushes were heard, when the sound of whirring filled the room, carried by the speakers.

another platform was brought up, the car. hidden by dark, silky fabric, it stood in the middle of the stage, ready to be revealed.

"ladies and gentlemen... the first car completely engineered by stark, for the stark racing formula one team... welcoming to the world, the SR-1!"

with that, kevin and y/n slowly began to lift the fabrig from the car, revealing a blinding white livery. lines of chrome streamlined it, the name stark proudly stood on the sides of it.

"it's mine, by the way", y/n joked and pointed on the number 95, after the crowd calmed.

"har, har", kevin drily replied, but he couldn't hide his grin.

"welcome, everyone... to the future!"

YNSTARK

liked by tonystark, charles_leclerc, mickschumacher and 7'973'331 others

ynstark happy valentine in white ;)

user what a perfect way to end valentine

user MOMMY, SORRY, MOMMY-

lancestroll The launch was incredible 👏

tonystark This is my daugher!

⤷ ynstark this is my dad <3

peterstark ew, your face on my dash....

⤷ ynstark i will block you

⤷ peterstark i will tell pepper

⤷ ynstark *blocked*

user white is such a good color on her??

user i just fell on my knees in the middle of the street

sebastianvettel You're incredible, I'm excited for our future!

⤷ ynstark STOP you're making me cry 😭

⤷ ynstark @/charles_leclerc look at this, your grid father loves me more than you

⤷ charles_leclerc That's not true! You better take it back!!

zendaya what a beauty 🤩

⤷ ynstark no, you!!

user we got the arm spread and the wink, now i'm waiting for the iconic peace sign

user white stark era, white stark era, WHITE STARK ERA!!!

user the bitchfighting with her actual brother and her grid brother is EVERYTHING to me

⤷ user oh my god you're right, charles and y/n are grid!siblings...

⤷ user IM WAITING FOR DAD SEB, YOU HEAR ME I'M WAITING

starkracing Our future champion!

⤷ ynstark hehehe

user red bull has been oddly silent

⤷ user they're all trying to stop christian from committing a crime

⤷ user or drying his never ending tears

⤷ user LMAO I CAN NOT

user half of the grid in the likes... i fear y/n is becoming the it girl fr

user these comments are a goldmine

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 female driver #fem!driver #female driver #f1 scenario #f1 fanfic #tony stark x reader #kevin magnussen x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #f1 x female reader #marvel x reader #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ lightning on track

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