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janumun · 7 months

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A Lemurian’s Guide to Love (LaDS Rafayel – General NSFW Headcanons)

Rated: NSFW/18+

Tags: oral and vaginal sex, body worship, fingering, praise kink, facial, hand kink, Rafayel shenanigans, allusions to spoilers for Rafayel’s myth dates, certain ASMRs and his character story

Words: ~3k

Author’s Notes: The chokehold this man has on me (!!!) has led me to exploring Rafayel’s sexual foray as well as smidges of how I imagine his relationship to progress with his beloved in these headcanons.

Please take careful note of those tags and rating and proceed at your own discretion!

With that said, I hope you enjoy your read.

Rafayel has stood by and waited for you; over the course of several years — from that fated meeting and the result: a promise borne and broken — and through the descent of the sands of time.

And while he likes to consider himself a patient man — and to a degree, he has been just that; endurance incarnate over the course of those long, arduous years without his beloved at his side — when he does finally come across you, Rafayel finds his resolve ripple, and then gradually implode, into paper-thin fragments of yearning and fond desire.

From how Rafayel oft presents his public persona to the world — cool and dispassionate; a tepid smile on the ready for strangers who wish to garner his favour or attentions, one wouldn’t even think to scratch past that surface. The task of avoiding unnecessary engagements, especially since his return to Linkon City a few years prior, preceding his debut as an artist, is one he finds particularly cumbersome.

But during intimate moments, reserved for just the two of you, you see that exact same Rafayel — that handsome, charismatic artistic talent plastered, glossy, across covers of magazines and billboards — mould into silly scowls. A flair for the dramatics the minute he senses your attentions are not his alone for the taking. Ridiculous and feline-like in his excuses of demands from his ‘bodyguard’, to allow him her company.

After an endurance survived this incredibly long, he finds that in certain matters, he can no longer wait.

Great Lemurian entity he may be, but his habits fit firmer akin to a cat’s rather than any fish you’ve kept as a pet.

He likes to tease and prod at you, wind you up and then, burst into subdued laughter the moment you take his bait. He’s frighteningly adept at stringing you along to his whims, a certain boyish charm you’ve never seen him utilize on any of his vast majority of fans in public.

He loves to drag you out to impromptu sea-shell collecting ‘dates’ along the shores of Whitesand Bay, to capture the perfect pearlescent pink and silvers, to grind into paint on days he moans of “not having enough inspiration to paint’.

Tows you along for long drives in the vermillion convertible he was provided by Thomas, purchased from Rafayel’s private funds [the correct color he insisted on getting for the car before a poor Thomas was finally able to fulfil his request].

Had you both stranded miles away from home once, when he had a punctured tire and ‘forgot’ to ensure he had a spare to change, in case of emergencies.

And when you biked him back the rest of the way on a rental bicycle, you had the very nagging suspicion he wasn’t too upset about the mishap as he hummed an odd tune, seated behind you. Bodies close enough you felt the gentle vibrations of his voice deep within your bones, along with the steady movement of the tires hitting the paved road.

Truly a feline more than any amphibious creature.

A wondrous man, a delightful dissonance of character.

That very same man, when the two of you hold each other for the first time:

His digits scour a delicate path across your face, your jaw, down your neckline; Rafayel is incredibly, uncharacteristically quiet the first night you are his. Bathed a sterling blue under the watery gaze of the moon. Save for the thick hitch of his breath with the unveiling of bare skin, he is mute.

His eyes, however, a crisp indigo, seem to set an inextinguishable fire to the rest of your clothes.

He observes — engraves into memory — first with his gaze, and then, his fingers follow. Long, tapered digits mapping the shape of your breasts, thumb denting gentle at the peaks of them. A grip he tests, firm, against the supple flesh of your waist, flaring outwards into the soft squish of your hips.

He makes a sound then; incoherent, incomprehensible. Perhaps, an unconscious break of language into his native Lemurian tongue; the hoarse, barely compacted passion of it, however, conveyed to you in feelings.

You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Your first night is incredibly long, Rafayel shows you truly what it means to be made love to, you nearly weep of joy and pleasure.

He has waited, oh he has pined and wanted, for so long. It’s a surreal and soul shattering experience for him, just the blessing of you naked underneath his fingers alone, has all of Rafayel’s pretenses unravelling, all masks and facades falling away.

The first time, there is no teasing, no hiding.

Rafayel is immaculately thorough in his exploration of your body. His fingers; his preferred medium of following the swells and dips of his canvas — your body.

Unfortunately, and yet so very delightful for you; he takes his time sketching across your body throughout the night, providing no chance of rest or relief from the torrential waves of pleasure he crests through your body. His eyes trained fast on your face, for every slight quiver and break of you, witnessing your response to each single pinpoint of pleasure his fingers brush against.

Responding obedient to pleas of “oh, there, right there, Rafayel.”

This very first time, the sounds of you alone, moaning his name, could bring him to completion but he resists. Your pleasure, first and foremost, in his near-tunnel vision.

When the calls of his name upon your lips become unbearable, with the curve of his index and middle up into your warm wetness, Rafayel caves, like sand carried back into the depths of the sea, underneath the unrelenting break of waves. Long fingers indenting into pliant thighs as he cleaves them up and apart for unobstructed access to your weeping slit and presses a parched tongue to lap up your essence.

Curling his tongue up into your fluttering walls as his fingers dance against the tight bead of pleasure in between your legs, to the steady compresses of your thighs against the strength of his shoulders.

Rafayel adores and encourages your honesty in bed.

Ready to slow down when and if you tell him how overwhelmed you are. Takes you faster when you beg him to make you come with his mouth. All the while, that dark azure gaze is fixated upon you, the flush beneath them turned a deeper crimson with each sound of satisfaction he triumphantly plucks out of you.

Lashes descending involuntarily, only when you crest at the peak of your pleasure and flood yourself onto his waiting tongue. The taste of a delectable sea; he laps up every single drop of until he is sated.

And it is only when you implore Rafayel to put his cock inside you does he startle at the negligence of his body; hard and leaking, soiling the sheets beneath him.

When you finally, finally connect, painfully slow; the push comes without resistance offered, from how wet he has had you from his ministrations, for a good part of the night.

Rafayel has to struggle to breathe at the sensation of your warmth around him, tight, herculean control the likes of which he hasn’t ever had to scrabble for, ever in his life. To not just spill the moment he is inside you.

Her pleasure, I want to feel it. I want to make her feel good.

Still the sole thought behind that glazed, hot gaze. A moment of odd, emotional vulnerability when your eyes finally lock, your hands wandering now, to cup across his face.

And when he begins to move, Rafayel needs to feel each and every single part of you with every single fibre of his own. Fingers resuming their trek of their now favorite canvas as you murmur love and praise into his ears. The weight of a breast hefty against one large palm, the other with his fingers intertwined through yours as he propels into you.

Both of your releases, one and the same; as his eyes remain on the scrunch of your brow, just before he too falls, burying his face against the crescent of your neck.

Rafayel’s style of love-making is firmly passionate.

It is emotional, relieving and often times fun. He is incredibly adept at reading your cues and adjusting his pace according to your wants. Sex, in his mind, is an activity, as deserving of time and patience as his art — an intricate worship — and hence he usually requires the two of you have those several, long hours to spare before he gets to undressing you. Quickies, as such then, he isn’t a massive fan of.

Neither public spaces — a private dressing room at one of his events, requiring the two of you to be out within a certain time period — no matter how desperate or wanting he might be. Silencing your own protests with a long, hushed kiss and a skewed mischievous, flushed smile that has your heart quivering inside your chest. “Be a good girl now and wait,” he remarks before setting your disheveled collar back in order. The graceful sweep of his hand; for you to take, once you are done, ready to escort you out into the venue.

Open but private spaces, however, where you have time to spare and none to disturb, his private beach behind his home, is where you might find yourself spread wide across soft cloth. The cool waves of the shore lapping gentle at your tightly furled toes while Rafayel’s mouth works at the slick in between your legs. Truly his idea of a well-enjoyed romantic date.

On the note of basking in the benevolence of seas, Rafayel loves giving oral as much as he enjoys receiving it.

He isn’t incredibly vocal when it comes to giving voice to his desires, for having your mouth on him, often because he is more than happy [and engrossed] to have his mouth do all the talking (and lapping), while you luxuriate underneath the feel of his tongue and lips, like the [his] Queen you are. He loves servicing you to completion, no matter how much his tease of a foreplay may point to, otherwise.

It is only when your mouth takes him in for the first time, on your request do you make the delightful discovery of Rafayel’s little give-aways. The quiver of his fingers threaded firm through your hair. The clench of a fine toned abdomen, ripples of tight pleasure splaying across his torso.

“You’re doing so well, baby— hah, just like that. What have you done to me? You’re so good.”

The drop of his jaw, the fine, dark dusting of red smeared across his cheeks and ears. His slow, stuttered groans and pants. A deliberate suckle at his tip has him throwing his head back at the sensation, fingers spasming against the back of your skull. Your own resistance shattering and you take him in whole, the moan that chokes out of Rafayel’s throat in reward for your efforts is heaven enough, you keep returning for more.

Rafayel is loud and has no shame in showcasing his love and desire for you through the sounds he makes, just for you.

Part of the reason also why he prefers privacy to public displays of affection or quick sexual encounters. And he encourages just the same for you.

Be it the sounds of appreciation that leave his mouth, muffled and undulating, into your pussy or while he is inside of you, enjoying every single inch of your drenched, clenching flesh against his length.

“If you squeeze me that hard, I’m going to—”

Words fracturing apart into a long, stuttered moan he presses right against your lips. Foreheads slick with the sweat of your desires as he bears down against you. Bright blue gaze meeting yours — the gentle florid fringe of pinks — steeped in pleasure as his fingers curve about your jaw, pleading a kiss from your lips.

“My pretty girl.” A flushed devastating grin. “Let me come inside you. I want to feel the way your body clamps around me when I do. Gods, please.”

Rafayel is an immensely flexible lover. No rules are set in stone, no bedroom innovations entirely over-ruled before the two of you knock it at least once.

There is no sole lead; only the steps you weave in between you two, together. He is receptive to a wide variety of tastes and kinks; ever the most studious, eager participant, save for the rare personal boundary or two, he has set in place (see above: feelings regarding public sex).

Grasping your hand to fold a kiss against your palm as he moves within you. Bidding on sex-hoarse whispers to entrust yourself to his care while he sets to plunging your entire being into flames, pleasure so exhilarating you’re left grappling for air by the end of it all. All the while, he shapes his marks of adoration against your skin, soothing warmth to set nerves lax from all their previous exertion.

Or, when you ask it of him, supplicates himself — a willing, grinning participant — loving, puckish desire set to blaze within his dark eyes. Tracking each single move, the delicate fingers that sketch against his heaving abdomen, the hand that moves to enclose his cock in between eager digits and pump, slow: a delectable torture. And he responds in kind to your enthusiasm, if you leave his mouth unbound and able — sings for you as you so enjoy, in that rapturous voice you so adore. Lent a lascivious flavour from how his head rolls back across his neck in the throes of incoming release, the flush of him flooding down across his chest from how aroused he is for you to be doing what you are to him.

The sight of him in his entirety is enough for your own patience to wear paper-thin, drenched wet from the erotic picture he paints beneath you.

Rafayel’s house is a mess.

...Something he often brushes off as personal ‘creative choices’, declaring he finds a certain order to his disarray of things strewn about.

The colors he knows exactly where to pluck off the floor of his studio. A second draft of an upcoming painting, pinned underneath a [fish] magnet against the kitchen cabinet. A spare shirt draped across the arm of a sofa for when he wants to quickly switch out of pigment-stained clothes in between paintings.

However, he takes special care to keep his bedroom — or at the very least, on worse days, one sofa — in acceptable, spruced order. Especially so, after you start coming over to visit or stay the weekend, accompany him on days he holes himself up in his house, to pore over an artwork. Often so preoccupied, by the time he snaps out of it, several hours later: to a velvet sky outside and you scrunched up in an upright position, with your head coasting sideways at an uncomfortable angle, in your sleep.

The first and last time that happens as he carts you into his arms and off to his bedroom to tuck you into his bed and insists you retire to his bedroom on your own, the next morning, whenever you feel like dozing off. Making a point, then onwards to always have it ready and at your disposal.

For sleep and when you’re both not; tangled within each other and the sheets, cooling down from your highs.

Rafayel craves chaste physical intimacy post-coitus as he drags you into his arms, your breath warm against his chest. He despises being away from your comfort for even a moment’s breath; extra adorable and tetchy in his phase of dramatics if you try and squirm away.

Has startled you on one particular occasion; hunched, stark naked, by the door of the bathroom as you stepped out of it. A frown knit in between his brow, a disagreeable moue to that beautiful mouth and a simple, “I’m cold, warm me.”

An amalgamation of just how Rafayel is like and something else; deeper, you suspect it stems from unspoken fears of loneliness. There are nights you don’t quite understand, when his emotions run rampant and his need for physical affirmation and constant connection are strong; the man immediately soothed to rest the moment your hand is across his cheek, fingers caressing down the sculpt of his jaw. Tiring him at last into exhausted sleep. A vulnerability to his visage only you are allowed to stand witness to.

There is something so incredibly erotic about his girl when she lets him put his cock against her mouth...

Testing every single mental fortitude, he has ever had thrown up, walls of iron built over the course of centuries, crumbling at the feeling of your wet mouth against his length. Drawing him in before you swallow him, right to the base.

Taking his seed down your throat like the damn, amazing girl you are but if you pull back at just the right moment, firm fist bringing him to spill against your cheeks, traversing down the arc of your neck—

Rafayel’s thoughts frizzle into a numb void, mouth agape and panting. A scarlet flush dashed across the ridge of his cheekbones, his ears, to witness your face dirtied by smears of his cum. The sight truly untethers a carnal, primitive want in him, he isn’t able to fully parse himself.

Truly imprinted upon as the bride of the Sea God.

Your sexual sessions are more often than not, kicked off on sensual, fun notes and back-and-forths.

A stray jibe you might throw his way at one of his odd habits and he’s plucking you right off your feet. Nimble digits feathering down the expanse of your abdomen in retaliation before you’re reduced to giggles; both of your fingers catching at the other’s clothes in an attempt for dominance before you drift, natural, against the other’s mouth in soft, scheming smiles.

Or, when you reach to strike the firm muscle of his behind, the sweet, silly twist to his mouth right as he startles, an indignant, scandalized gaze he rolls your way. “Why, you—” Before you reach to grasp him by the collar and drag down towards your waiting, open mouth. Lips drawing wide into a smile as you feel his reciprocated urgent squeeze across your ass; the pads of his fingers tracing the lining of your panties beneath your skirt. “Don’t make me return the favor several fold, pretty siren.”

The bite of restive teeth he sinks into his lower lip as he hauls you up and against his rigid length. Before you reach forward, disengaging his lip, to suckle it into your own mouth. “Try me.”

The act itself leaning more into the romance of the moment and slow, deep thrusts into your body as Rafayel drifts against you. Mouthing every piece of spare skin in sight, affirmations and assurances as clear and heard as the moans that tumble from his lips.

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teddynivvy · 2 months

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☀︎ before the sun. chapter 1.

pairing: jschlatt x she/her reader. 2.5k words.

warnings: mentions of infidelity. reader wears a dress.

a/n: chapter 1 is here! ty for so much love on the prologue, i hope you enjoy.

summary: on the first day of your hawaii trip with your family, you meet your parent's friend's son.

Stepping off the plane into the humid Maui air was more suffocating than it probably intended to be. You felt sticky immediately, your top clinging to your stomach and shorts pressed to your thighs, tote bag slung over your shoulder. Your mom took a deep breath in, the smile on her face bright as she pulled you in close.

“What a perfect day!”

The sun was yellow-orange in the sky as you made your way through the airport and out onto the shuttle to take you to the resort. Your bag was heavy and annoying, strands of hair sticking to the side of your face as you pushed your headphone deeper into your ear, watching the palm trees pass you by. Lush green grass, and the soft rustle of the trees accompanied the drive as you felt yourself get sleepy, music in your ears turned to a low volume. You’d tuned out your parents musing about their planned excursions with their friends, most likely leaving you at the resort to fend for yourself for the week. They had mentioned something about a big dinner tonight with their friends and their son.

You were starting to get nervous about this babysitting situation you were likely going to be put in. You didn’t know much about Dan and Sarah, other than they’d moved to New York for Dan’s job a few years ago. Your parents were super close with them, and you’d heard stories of their son in passing, but not enough to know anything about him. The thought of being back home lulls you into a gentle sleep, forehead pressed against the cold windowpane of the air-conditioned bus for the remainder of your journey to the resort.

🫧

Your mom gently shakes you awake half an hour later, to which you feel grossly under slept and a little annoyed. She had a soft smile on her face, offering her hand as she helped pull you up, leading you off the bus and onto the resort grounds. It was grand, for sure - a big blue waterfall with the name of the resort above it, in cursive writing. The sun was hot now, beating down on your face as you followed the white-brick path to the check-in desk. Your parents had (very graciously) gotten you your own room, just down the hall a few doors from theirs. They handed you your room key, a white, nondescript card.

White Sands All Inclusive Resort and Spa.

“We’re going right to the beach,” your dad mused, putting his arm around your mom. “Whatcha gonna do, kiddo?”

You looked down at the suitcase in your hand and the keycard in your other. “I’m gonna go try and find my room. Maybe lay down for a bit.”

“We have a reservation at the steakhouse tonight, at 7. You can meet us there?”

You nodded as your mom pressed a kiss to your head, watching your downcast eyes and rubbing your shoulder.

“Try to have some fun, pumpkin. I know it’s hard.”

You flipped the keycard over in your palm as you gave her a tight lipped smile, trying not to let tears well up in your eyes again. “I will. I promise.”

🫧

The room they booked for you is exquisite - bright white linens and billowy curtains, with a view of the deep blue ocean, palm trees lining the beach. Soft white sand, people milling about below, being served brightly coloured drinks with little tiny paper umbrellas. Vast pools with swim up bars, lively music and the expanse of the water kissing the shore line.

You weren’t in a particularly good mood, but goddamn, was it beautiful.

The binder full of room service selections was calling to you, so you flipped it open. Calling in an order of truffle fries and one of those fruity little cocktails, you began to unpack your bag. It was apparent to you now that the headspace you were in while packing was not a good one, pulling out skimpy tops and shorts, along with sundresses you haven’t worn for years. You stuffed them into the drawers of the dresser before noticing a very distinct piece of clothing missing.

“Did I fuckin’ forget my swimsuit?”

You blushed red at your own mistake, palm pressed to your forehead, searching every hidden pocket of your suitcase.

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” you huffed out, looking down at the time on your phone. There was a knock on your door shortly after, where a man dressed in all white pushed a tray of food into your room.

“Is there anywhere on the property to buy a bathing suit?” You laughed, rather incredulously. “I have somehow managed to… misplace mine.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered. “There is a surf shop in the lobby area that has a selection of swimwear.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, closing the door behind him and once again letting out a sigh. You stuffed a few fries into your mouth and took a long sip of the drink, as tequila and fruit juice slid down your throat and cooled you down. The chilled drink immediately made you want to lay down in the soft sheets, which quickly brought you into a deep sleep once again.

🫧

A few hours later, you were awoken by a gust of ocean air coming through your window. The sun was hanging low in the sky, painting it a blood orange, as you rubbed your eyes and looked at the clock beside the bed.

6:46 PM

“Fuck,” you groaned, pulling yourself out of bed and walking over to the dresser. You pulled out one of the sundresses you’d packed, not being able to think for long, as you knew you had to meet your parents in less than 15 minutes. You took a quick look at yourself before grimacing at what looked back at you. Tired eyes, red and bloodshot from lack of sleep. Hair unruly, dress a little too tight around the hips, your nose still looking a little red from all the crying you’d been doing these past few weeks.

It was, unfortunately, the best you were going to get right now.

Luckily, the steakhouse your parents had made a reservation at was only a few minutes away, which allowed you to explore the resort a little more. You took in the clean white finishes, servers moving around with trays of drinks, of which you were offered one as you passed by. You happily took it, downing the glass before putting it on a nearby surface and approaching the restaurant, where you could see your parents and their friends sitting at the table already.

The other person sitting next to them, you were sure you’d never seen before. A baseball hat turned backwards on his head, button up Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts on his body. He had groomed facial hair, from what you could see, and a broad back.

“Hi,” you smiled as you approached their table, pulling out the vacant chair. “Sorry, I was asleep,” you explained, shooting a smile to Dan and Sarah.

“Nice to see you again,” you offered politely, your dad lightly rubbing your shoulder as you sat next to him.

“Nice to see you too sweet pea! My, have you grown up!” Sarah mused, her hand finding yours across the table. “So pretty!”

You blushed at her compliment, squeezing her hand and smiling back. “Thank you.”

“This is our son, Jay,” she introduced him, as he looked across the table from you.

Honey brown eyes, with bold facial features and fluffy brown hair peaking out from under his hat. He already had slightly sunburnt cheeks, freckles sprouting across his nose as he smiled at you politely, putting an awkward hand up to wave.

“No one calls me Jay. I usually go by Schlatt.”

“Sure, nice to meet you,” you offered, watching as his eyes fell from your eyes to your lips.

Your parents certainly didn’t mention that their friend’s son was so fucking handsome.

Dinner went off without a hitch, your parents sharing stories of what they’ve done in the last year since they’d seen each other. Dan was still working at some big law firm, Schlatt living out of the house in his own place.

A few drinks deep, and his mom started to ramble.

“I still don’t really know what he does on that computer all day,” she laughs, corners of her eyes squeezing shut. “Gun to my head, couldn’t tell ya. But his landlord isn’t after him for rent so it works for me.”

You shared a giggle as you looked down at the ice in your drink, deciding whether or not to get another one. The light buzz was starting to get to your head, and despite the afternoon nap you’d taken, it was making you unbelievably tired.

“What do you do?”

Schlatt’s soft voice brought you out of your trance as you looked up to him. The adults continued their conversation on the other side of the table as you sighed, putting your drink down on the coaster.

“I work in social media management,” you shrugged, playing with a loose thread on your dress. “It’s fun, I like it. I can relate to your parents having no idea what you actually do.”

He nodded at that, downing the rest of his drink.

“I stream video games and make YouTube videos,” he laughed, deep and hearty, as you smiled back. “They have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

You felt yourself smile for real, for the first time in probably an entire month. Your hand ran down the condensation of your glass, leaving finger-tip streaks. He could tell you were distracted, but didn’t say anything.

“You wanna go walk on the beach for a bit?”

“Yeah, um,” you felt yourself warm. “I actually forgot my swimsuit. So I need to go to the lobby and get something before tomorrow, if you don’t mind coming with me.”

“You forgot your swimsuit?”

You met his eyes, now noticing how handsome he really was. Golden hour was illuminating his soft features, reflecting in his eyes as he palmed the whiskey glass, fingers wrapped around the base.

“Yes, don’t tell my mom. Or anyone else for that matter, I’m horrifically embarrassed.”

He laughed to himself before sliding his glass onto the table, standing up and offering you a hand to help you up.

“Sure. I don’t mind an adventure.”

🫧

The surf shop was not full of options, per se - especially a nice, family appropriate swimsuit. You weren’t exactly trying to show your whole ass to the beach, or to Schlatt’s mom and dad.

You settled on a basic black one-piece, still rather cheeky and boob-y for your liking, but it was the best option. It cinched low in the back, corset style around your waist. You picked at it in the mirror, pulling on the tight fabric and shaking your head. “Whatever, I’m just gonna get it.”

“It looks nice on you,” Schlatt offered, and you found yourself blushing as you closed the curtain. “You really have nothing to be insecure about.”

You bit your bottom lip as you peeled the swimsuit off and threw your dress back on.

“Thanks. You’re sweet.”

Schlatt picked up a bottle of sunscreen and a bag of sour gummy worms, tearing open the bag behind you. You looked back at him, with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk.

“I get snacky at night,” he shrugged, dropping a gummy worm into his mouth and offering you the open bag.

“Thanks,” you picked out a red one, sucking it between your lips and offering a thumbs up.

🫧

You pulled off your flip-flops as soon as you reached the beach, feeling the warm sand between your toes as you and Schlatt walked alone the shoreline. The wind was slightly blowing his hair out of his face, and you couldn’t help but look at him.

“So, who wants to start talking about why we’re on vacation with our parents first?”

You felt the lump in your throat at the question - you had managed to avoid thinking about your ex for this entire evening.

“You can go first.”

Your eyes were downcast at the sand as Schlatt stopped at the shoreline, dipping his toes into the warm ocean. He sat down and motioned for you to follow, which you did.

“My parents say I spend too much time holed up in my place,” he laughed. “Which is probably true. But I also like to be alone, ya know?” You nodded along, drawing lines in the sand and looking out into the horizon. “I certainly wasn’t planning on coming, but they convinced me it would be fun so… now I’m here.”

A nod and a smile as you avoided his gaze, you rubbed your fingers together. Grains of sand falling through your palm back into the mound below, forming a small pile as you swallowed down the lump in your throat.

“I broke up with my ex like, a month ago. He cheated on me.” you finally said, once again avoiding his gaze. “We’d been together for a long time so… I moved back in with my mom and dad, and now I’m here. On vacation with them to ‘cheer me up’, I guess.”

Schlatt was silent, suddenly feeling very awkward that he even asked.

“That fuckin’ sucks,” was all he could offer. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re good,” you laughed, digging your toes deeper into the sand and feeling the evening sun on your face. “It’s nice to be here. Unfortunately, they were right, it is cheering me up already.”

You felt your eyes move to Schlatt’s face, your knees pulled to your chest, leaning your head on your arm. The warmth of the sun was making you feel tired once again, your eyes fluttering closed as you looked at Schlatt’s silhouette. The slope of his nose, poutiness of his lips evident against the tangerine background. The sounds of the ocean relaxed you heavily, before you noticed Schlatt standing up and offering his large hand to you.

“Let’s go back, you probably don’t want to fall asleep on the beach.”

You took his hand as he pulled you up, his bicep bulging under his shirt. It did not go unnoticed how strong he really was, broad chest and shoulders, forearm muscles prominent when he pulled you.

You pushed the sand off of your dress and let go of his hand, offering another awkward smile, before following him back to the resort.

You made small talk on your way there, learning that Schlatt really didn’t have much planned for his stay. His parents were planning on doing something every day - golfing, hiking, excursions to waterfalls, and all sorts of other activities.

“I just want to lay on the beach,” he laughed, turning into the dim hallway, with you following. He fished in his pocket for his room key, standing in front of the white door, stopping your conversation.

“This is me,” he motioned up to the door, with black lettering. Room 1106.

“Oh, no way,” you pushed past him slightly, feeling the brush of his arm on yours. “I’m 1108.”

“Sweet,” he laughed, tapping his key on the door. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

You felt yourself blush once again, leaning against the door as you smiled politely.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Schlatt.”

#chuckle sandwich x reader #chuckle sandwich fanfiction #jschlatt fanfiction #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt fanfic #nat writes

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jiejies-corner-store · 6 months

Note

THE AVENTURINE FIC 😭😭 OH GOSH IM CRYING 😭😭

i’m so sorry, anon! here this should make it up 😭😭 the devil knows you're dead

pairing. aventurine x reader

tags/tw: fem!reader, references to a complicated childbirth, mother!reader, father!aventurine, spoilers to aventurine's real name, spoilers in reference to 2.1 trailblaze questline, aventurine’s nihilism and depression, references to death, hurt/comfort, ooc aventurine probably, i make shit up at the end because i want a happy ending—bite me.

sfw

a/n: ouchie. i finished 2.1 and it hurt. it hurt a lot. the ost for the “all the sad tales” is genuinely so beautiful. the trumpet just feels so melancholy yet hopeful it just goes so perfectly with aventurine’s story. but i need something that feels good now. ABSOLUTELY NOT PROOF-READ pt. 1

“As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.”

It was cold. Cold and warm. Almost feverish feeling. The type of feeling you’d get when you were freezing but your skin was hot to the touch. There was this frustrating beeping noise somewhere off in the distance that you just couldn’t tune out, finally you opened your eyes to see a sea of darkness, and seemingly at an unreachable horizon, a large circle of white light that looked like a gate.

“You’re not dead, if that’s what you’re wondering,” a voice came from beside you. How you didn’t realize there was a whole person standing next to you, you had no clue.

“Well, that’s not originally what I was going for, but now I’m a bit worried I might be,” you laughed, nervous, but curious all the same. This… person you couldn’t quite make out an exact face, or even a body for that matter, but ther was this distinct feeling that it was in fact a person. Like your instinct knew, but your brain couldn’t quite fill in the details.

“This is a place beyond mortal comprehension, if I tried to explain it to you, you would only be more confused. Walk with me,” the entity said, and without even willing your body to do so, you followed. Ripples emanated from each step as you followed and soon the inky void around you melted into an unfamiliar planet.

The sky was a deep purple, streaked with red that looked like lighting that crackled along the sky. Instead of the fluid, black ground, sand now shifted as you moved foward. Inside a small hut made of rock, you saw a woman cradling a swaddled child.

“Such a lucky child, such a blessed child… Just like your name. A gift from THEM to Avgin… my boy…”

You turned to the figure beside you and hesitantly asked, “Where are we?”

“A land of rock, but not water, lightning, but not rain, blood, but not tears,” the entity responded cryptically, which only caused a crease in your brow. You went closer to the mother in the hut and sat next to her. She whispered a blessing onto her child, but none of the words made sense to your ears. Similar to the entity, it’s like your brain scrambled them from your understanding.

The mother cried. You tried to wrap your arms around her to comfort her but only phased through her like a ghost. The baby too began to cry.

Then, the scene changed again, suddenly it was a cell with iron bars. A blond young man sat next to you. The blond’s gaze was downturned, but you could recognize that voice anywhere.

“—Thirty tanba… that’s all my life is worth.”

“That’s not…” you said, but realized it was all in vain. You tried again to take Kakavasha’s hands into your own. You wantd to take the cuffs off his wrists and cradle where the skin was rubbed raw.

“It's all or nothing…”

“Kakav—agh!”

Your future never existed You█ future never existed You█ future ne█er existed You█ fut███ ne█er existed You█ fut███ ne█er ████ted You█ fut███ █e█er ████ted Yo██ ██████ █e█er ████ted

Your mind felt clouded, a searing headache, followed by an inability to even pin down a coherent thought. The scene shifted once more.

“What’s going on!” you shouted at the figure that stood only silently next to you, crippled on the ground, clutching at your head, fingers pressing in to try to find the spot that would alleviate this awful pressure.

When your senses were no longer blinded by pain, you were back to that inky void you started in, but this time you weren’t alone. Not far away, maybe twenty feet or so, was your Kakavasha, and a woman you didn’t recognize.

“Why are we born into this world if it's just to die?”

You stumbled to your feet to try to run to him, but with each step closer he only got further away. He walked towards that gate of light. In your head, you heart was pounding faster and faster. You failed to catch up to him. He only got further and further away until he disappeared like fireflies dispersing into the night, “Kakavasha! No—!”

Utterly devastated, you sunk back onto your knees. You didn’t know why but you had this distinct feeling of loss. Tears rolled from your eyes freely. He… he wasn’t gone surely? The entity’s presence reappeared next to you.

“Why did you show me all of this,” you asked, not sure if you actually wanted an answer.

“Because you need to go back,” the entity answered and your jaw locked, gritting your teeth so hard they hurt.

You screamed into the void, “You’re the one who brought me here!”

“I never call anyone to me… you mortals believe that it is US that determine when your time to go is… but in truth it is your own doing, whether it is your body or your mind that gives up first,” the entity said, “It is only the strength of your will that will allow you to continue down your destined path… but many give up on that path and someone else must be chosen.”

“What does this have to do with me,” you snapped. “Why are you meddling in my life? What does Kakavasha have to do with this?”

“Kakavasha still has a long road ahead of him. I have supplemented his journey all his life. It was only recently he was able to live on his own will,” said the entity ”Your body is giving up. I do not have the power anymore to keep him alive. That lies with you.”

Your surroundings melted again. You were in a hospital room and on the bed was you. Eyes closed and steadily breathing, but your heartbeat was weak. The annoying beeping from before was louder and more prominent.

“You wanted to help him. During his past, you reached out each time. There is nothing you can do about that now, but the future and the present… you still have a choice.”

Laying a hand on your unmoving body, there was a slight resistance, but with just a bit more pressure you felt as if you could phase through it entirely.

“What do I need to do,” you asked the entity.

“Live.”

You furrowed your brow at that. Of course you wanted to live… right? The entity gestured for your hand, you obliged. Against your palm was an oddly soft feeling. Warm. Like a mother’s touch against your’s. Your palms pressed together, the entity spoke,

“May the goddess Gaiathra close HER eyes three times… Keep your blood eternally pulsing… Let your journey be forever peaceful… …and your schemes forever concealed."

You lifted your head and your “body” began to disappear similar to how Kakavasha disappeared. Just before you disappeared into sparks of golden light, you had the sense about you to ask:

“Who are you?” you felt like you were shouting, but your voice was quiet.

“You could call me Fenge Biyos.”

You opened your eyes with a deep gasp for air. Your surroundings were blurry, and you rubbed at your eyes, only to realize Kakavasha was up, standing next to your hospital bed with an anxious expression, hands already grasping the one that was wiping crust from your eyes.

“You’re awake,” he choked out, holding you as if you would break, “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry I did this to you that I—”

“Kakavasha, slow down, what… why are you—no, don’t be sorry,” you finally found your words, sitting foward on the bed to wrap your arms around him. You racked your brain, trying to figure out what was going on. Your mind was still foggy, but finally that haze disappated and you remembered everything leading up to now.

“Kakavasha~” you hummed in a song-like tone, a small wrapped box with a blue and purple bow tied around it. You skipped over to his desk and wrapped your arms around his shoulders where he sat, and placed the gift in front of him, laying your head on his shoulder as your arms tightly hugged him. “I have a surprise.”

He smiled with a small laugh, “Doesn’t this usually work the other way around?” He pecked a kiss onto your check before pulling the bow off and opening the lid of the box, when he froze.

The smile on your face faltered bit when he didn’t say anything after a bit. The corners of it tightened into a more forced position, “Kakavasha? You’re gonna be a papa…”

The joy in his face from earlier had completely vanished. Only replaced by a stony, cold, poker face. He pushed his chair back and you stumbled into the wall behind. He gave you a tight smile and kissed your forehead before heading for the door and grabbing his hat. “I’ll be back later.”

With that, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving you at a loss as you fell into his chair, feeling suddenly so very empty in this large office alone.

He came back after that, apologetic for leaving you, but nothing felt truly right. He continued to reassure you that he did want to have this child, but it was a strenous time. The entire pregnancy was stressful. The doctors warned you that the level of stress you were under put you at risk for a premature birth, but you brushed them off. It was just the hormones, you were sure. Kakavasha still loved you. The ring on your finger should’ve been proof enough of that.

“How about the name Ilyas?” you suggested, laying your head on Kakavasha’s lap, “I was… looking at some databases about Avgin names and I thought that one was nice. What do you think?”

Aventurine hummed, but his mind seemed elsewhere. You let it go.

The next few months continued on in similar fashion.

But it all came to a head.

The two of you were standing in the kitchen. It had started off small. The hormones and the stress were getting to you. It was an off hand comment about him not fixing dinner, and you were tired and hungry from carrying around his child.

From there it had escalated. It turned into you were tired of feeling like you were walking on eggshells when you talked about the pregnancy. About how he was barely around for the appointments, and when he was he seemd emotionally distant… finally he exploded

“I never asked for this!” he shouted. “When did I ever say I wanted to be a father? Did you even ask me? Did you think about what I felt about this whole thing at all?”

You paused, feeling tears well up in your throat as a white-hot fear flashed through your body. You laughed, a hollow sound, “I’m sorry, Aventurine, I thought it took two people to make a baby? And you certainly made no attempt to use protection.”

He didn’t have anything to say about that. Even though the argument seemed over, you felt a nauseous feeling crawling up in your throat. Your tears felt like acid burning through your skin. Then a pain in your stomach. Your knees gave out and the last thing you remember was the scared expression on Kakavasha’s face before it all went dark.

“I was scared…. I was so scared that bringing another Avgin into this world would only bring misfortune onto you… that Gaiathra Triclops would take you from our child, just like my mother was taken from me,” he openly cried into your shoulder. “I took it out on you. I made something that should’ve been a beautiful experience something that was awful, and I understand… if you never forgive me for that but please…. please don’t leave.”

Now you were crying with him, one hand tangled in his blond locks and the other rubbing his back. Quietly, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it, he whispered, “I can’t lose you too.”

You thought for a long time. In front of you wasn’t one of the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC. Not a calculating or cunning man, who’s only interest was in things that benefited the IPC’s bank accounts. In front of you was a broken man, who’d had everything stripped away from him when he was only a child. Who was shattered and forced to put his life back together with nothing but fear and anxiety as glue.

Did it excuse what he'd broken?

No.

“I’m here… I won’t leave Kakavasha,”

But maybe with time and effort, you could help re-glue each other with something a little more beautiful.

“Ilyas! Don’t run so far!” you called after a small blond haired child who was already ahead of you by a longshot, you turned exasperatedly to your husband, “Honey, can you go after him please? I don’t want him to get trampled by some idiot who’s not paying attention…”

The man only smiled at you, one hand firmly wrapped around your ever expanding waist, “It’s okay. There’s some of my squad that’s following him incognito. He won’t get out of our sights without them dragging him back. We can let him get his energy out. He’ll be cooped up in a hospital soon.”

You huffed conceded. Already tired from just getting through the theme park’s entrance. You were due in about two weeks, but Kakavasha was insistent that a week before you’d be under hospital supervision until you brought your second child into the world. It had taken about five years before the two of you had healed enough and there were roadbumps along the way… but you were both ready to give Ilyas a little sister.

But for now, the two of you wanted to let Ilyas have one more day as an only child. The reconstructed Penacony was nothing like the Dreamscape of the past. Fear and secrets no longer were trapped in the gilded cage of the former prison planet. With the help of the IPC and the Harmony, New Penacony was entirely real. No more dreams, just reality. They’d kept many of their old franchises and built a true theme park.

“Mama!! Picture! Let’s get a picture here before we go in!” Ilyas screeched, pointing at Clockie statue in front of the Clock Studios main attraction. You set a hand on Kakavasha’s arm, glancing up at him to try to get a read on what he was feeling. He’d let you in on the parts of his past that he’d kept a secret. The scheme behind Penacony, his proposed “death” and his encounter with his Past and Future.

He took a breathe and looked back down at you, giving you a smile that said “I’m okay” and relief flooded your bones. After walking you over in front of the camera, he crouched down and scooped Ilyas into his arms.

“Ready?” the cameraman asked and you nodded. After a brief countdown the camera flashed, and for a moment in that bright light, you saw the hopeful future that lied ahead.

#aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #aventurine x you #hsr 2.1 #penacony

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merlucide · 3 months

Text

SEA’S SECRET ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Notes: um.. I did it :3 KIRA WORLD BUILDS! NOT CLICKBAIT!

pairings: merman!chigiri x mayor’s daughter!reader

wc: 1.9k

warnings: reader is fem, thalassophobia(?), the best thing I’ve ever written

chpt: 1 2

(pls imangine pirates and the Caribbean vibes!!) inspo hehe

You often find yourself walking up and down the seashore. It’s a place of solace for you, the sound of the waves and the salty breeze never ceased to bring a wave of ease over you. The seashore was a stretch of golden sand that curved gently around the bay, bordered by rocky cliffs. Palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves singing a calming tune. Small crabs scuttled across the sand, and seabirds called out to each other as they wheeled in the sky above. You like to look around for shells and pearls. When you find one, you take them to the sailors for them to tell you what they are.

The sailors would tell you mystical tales of the sea. You loved their stories—you knew they weren’t real, but you liked to pretend they were.

They’d tell you about the legends of the sea, stories about ghost ships, the kraken, sirens, and mermaids. The tales always made you eager to explore the vast ocean. You knew that wasn’t realistic, after all, you were the mayor's daughter. Your life was prim and proper, with not an ounce of adventure. You had many marriage proposals, but you turned them all down. Your father warned you that if you didn’t decide on a suitor, he would have no choice but to arrange a marriage for you.

It angered you to no end. Your life had barely begun, and everything had been decided for you. Your father’s warning had been the final straw, pushing you to the brink of rebellion.

That’s when you ran off to the shore, your heart pounding with a mixture of anger and desperation. You had snuck out of your estate at night, very careful not to draw any attention to yourself. The town was quiet, the usual hustle and bustle of merchants and sailors replaced by the soft lapping of waves and the occasional call of a bird. Lanterns flickered in the windows of the small buildings, casting a warm, glow on the cobblestone streets.

You headed towards the docks, looking around for a small rowboat you’d seen the fishermen take. You found it sandwiched between two sailboats, their tall masts swaying gently in the night breeze. You grabbed the oars and looked around to make sure no one was watching you.

You stepped into the boat, slowly lowering yourself down until you were stable. You pulled the oars, gliding into the water. You continued until you were far away from the dock. The moon reflected off the water, giving it an enchanting feel. The water was rather still, with only gentle ripples disturbing the glassy surface.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you were alone with your thoughts, away from the suffocating expectations. The sea was your sanctuary, a place where you could be free, even if just for a night.

It wasn’t fair. You had dreams, desires that went beyond the confines of your father’s mansion and the expectations of society.

You sighed peered over the side of your little boat, looking at the stars through the water. The surface was calm, reflecting the moonlight like a mirror. As you gazed into the depths, you thought you saw a glimmer, a flash of something that wasn’t quite right.

Then, you saw them—two luminous eyes staring back at you from the deep. They were unlike anything you had ever seen, glowing with an otherworldly light that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your heart raced as your mind scrambled looking for an answer, perhaps you were seeing things? But the eyes were unmistakable, fixed on you with an intense, almost curious gaze. You opened your mouth to scream, but no sound came out at first. Then, a second later, you found your voice and let out a piercing cry, jerking back so violently that you lost your balance.

You screamed and jumped back, losing your stability and tipping over, falling into the dark deep ocean. You kicked your legs, remaining afloat as you attempted to set your boat back up. The panic surged within you, fear of what was lurking below making your heart race. You continued to try to flip your boat, but with no success. Your breathing was heavy as you desperately pleaded for the boat to flip.

You felt ripples hitting your leg and frantically looked around for whatever caused them. Suddenly, your boat flipped over with a big splash. You desperately tried to pull yourself up, which was rather hard since you were in the water. Hands grabbed onto your calves, pushing them up. You screamed, grabbing onto the boat and finally pulling yourself inside. You hunched down and clutched the sides, trying to calm your racing heart.

Once you had caught your breath, you desperately looked around for the mysterious eyes you saw. “Who’s there?!” you yelled. “Hello?!”

You held on tightly to your oar, the other one most likely sinking below. Your eyes were heavy with tears when a trickle came from the end of your boat.

You snapped your head over to the sound. The eyes you were met with previously stared back at you. You couldn’t make out much of its appearance due to the night, but its eyes were reflective, standing out in the dark.

“W-What are you?” you stammered, your gaze wide.

“…I… I am…” its voice hesitant “..a merman.”

Your eyes were as wide as they could possibly be. You couldn’t believe what you had heard. It wasn’t possible. There’s no way. But, considering the position you were in, you had no other choice but to believe him.

“…A mermaid?” you asked yourself.

“…..I’m sorry for scaring you… I didn’t think… you would be able to see me,” the merman apologized, his gaze lowering.

You repeated the word “mermaid” a few times until he swam closer to you. You clenched your oar, ready for whatever might happen.

“..I will get you to the shore, alright?” His hands perched on the side of the boat, and you could almost see him now. He had raspberry-colored hair across his face, styled into a half braid. His eyes were a magenta color with cat-like pupils. He had shimmering scales littered on his cheeks and larger fins on the sides of his head. He was… enchanting.

You nodded your head with a soft “alright.” He returned the nod and swam to the back of the boat. Hands on the ledge, he pushed the boat through the water.

You sat hunched in the small boat, drenched and trembling, your breath coming in shaky inhales. The cool night air bit at your skin, but you hardly noticed, consumed by the shock of the encounter. Your heart pounded in your chest, the rhythm erratic and wild.

You clung to the sides of your little boat, the wood rough under your fingers, trying to ground yourself in the midst of this surreal experience.

It was silent aside from the sound of water. You headed towards the town, but not toward the docks, instead toward the shore by the cliffs.

You finally arrived at the beach. The water was up to your bust. He stopped pushing the boat.

“This is as far as I can go,” the merman told you.

“I- thank you,” you said and looked at the shore.

“..I will be off now,” he told you, backing away.

“W-Wait!” you impulsively yelled out.

He stopped and turned toward you, caught off guard.

“I- ah… will I, see you again?” you asked. You had just met a merman. They were supposed to be just some sailor’s tale, and here you just met one. You needed to see him again, to know if he really was real.

The merman’s mouth opened slightly, then closed.

“Perhaps… if fate allows it,” he replied quietly.

“I- Tomorrow, here at sunset?” you hesitantly asked.

He pressed his lips together before nodding. He ducked back below the sea. You watched the ripples spread across the water.

You hopped out of the boat into the water, walking to the shore. You dragged the boat onto the sand and collapsed to your knees.

You couldn’t believe what had just happened.

As you laid there, the events of the night replayed in your mind. You had come out here to escape the confines of your life, to find a moment of freedom away from your father’s demands.

And then, you had encountered a being of legend— a mermaid. The very idea seemed impossible, and yet it had happened. His eyes, so alien yet mesmerizing, haunted your thoughts.

Who was he? You didn’t even know his name. The realization struck you with a sudden urgency. The merman had saved you, had spoken to you, and yet you knew so little about him. What was his world like beneath the waves? The sailors’ tales had always painted mermaids and mermen as dangerous and unpredictable, yet he had been gentle, almost hesitant.

You lifted your head, staring out at the dark expanse of the ocean. The water was the same as you boarded your boat, as if the encounter had never happened. But you knew it had. You had seen and felt things that couldn’t be explained, things that made your heart race with excitement rather than fear.

Slowly, you rose to your feet, your legs shaky. You looked back at the boat, then turned towards the town. Each step was heavy, your wet nightdress clinging to your skin and the weight of the night’s events pressing down on you. As you walked, the familiar streets seemed strange, as if you were seeing them through new eyes.

The town was quiet, the occasional flicker of lantern light casting long shadows on the cobblestones. You passed the houses of neighbors and friends, their windows dark and their occupants asleep. Everything seemed so ordinary, so mundane.

Would he really be there tomorrow at sunset? The thought filled you with a mix of hope and uncertainty. You wanted to see him again, to prove to yourself that it hadn’t all been a dream. You wanted to know more about him—his name, his world, and the mysteries that lay beneath the waves.

By the time you reached the gate of your estate, your thoughts were a tangled mess. You slipped inside quietly, careful not to wake anyone. The grand house loomed before you, a reminder of the life you were expected to lead. But now, with the promise of the sea and the mysterious merman.

You climbed the stairs to your room, tomorrow, at sunset, you would return to the shore. You had to know if the merman was real, if the world held more than the life laid out before you. As you crawled into bed, your wet dress clinging uncomfortably to your skin, you clung to that thought. The ocean had given you a glimpse of something extraordinary, and you were determined to see where it would lead.

You needed to understand the world that had been hidden from you for so long. The longing for adventure, for knowledge.

Sunset couldn’t come soon enough.

next part

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @sharkissm @luvingshidou @kurona-theshark @soleilonthesun @duckydee-0 @rinitoshisgirl @someprettyname

HOLY SHIT. YALL?! I DID IT!!! OMG PLS THIS TOOK ME SOSOSO LONG TO FINISH?!? I HATE WORLD BUILIDING. BUT I DID IT!!? OMG AND I USED FANCY WORDS YALL SHAKESPEARE WHO??? I’m so happy w/ how this came out omg pls lemme know what you think!!

also uh should I make a pt2 ..?

made June 20th 2024

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theprettynosferatu · 1 month

Text

Shelter

Good evening. I'd say it's a surprise to see you here again, but we both know that would be a lie, wouldn't it?

I've been thinking a bit, in this shared night of ours. Can you hear the wind? Of course, it might not be windy where you are. After all, we are talking across time and space thanks to the magic of writing. Isn't it a wonderful thing? How my words just appear in your head as you read? By reading, you're letting your brain be colonized by someone else's thoughts.

And with all the books, all the stories and random texts on the Internet... you come here, again and again.

It's the wind. No, not the literal wind. The wind in your life. The constant demands life makes of you, the myriad choices big and small you have to make, the ever present fear you'll fuck up, you won't be enough, that the wind will become too much and sweep you away.

But here I offer an Oasis. Shelter from the weight of that wind, the horrible pressures of being a person. You come here to relax in this place that exists only between us. And let us not speak falsely now, you come here because of the way you feel here, the warmth between your legs.

No need to be coy! It's so simple, isn't it? The pleasure. The ability to drown in it. To tune everything out and just be a vehicle for that primal, shining sensation. Beautiful. Uncomplicated. Pure. Shamefully delightful. Outside the burdensome shackles of thought and morality.

And I'm happy to create this space for you, I truly am. But you must have realized by now that there's a toll you pay every time you come here. You leave a little piece of you behind. Sure, it's so small, so miniscule, like a grain of sand. But they add up, as I'm sure you have noticed. the greatest desert is all grains of sand, after all. Slowly, gradually, inevitably you are twisting your mind by coming here.

Now, let's not kid each other. We both know the thoughts, the dirty, demeaning, kinky thoughts haven't been exactly staying online, have they? Tell me, how often have you dreamed of slinking off to a bathroom and edge like a good girl when you know you shouldn't?

Did it happen at work? Did it happen at a friend's house? Did it happen while you were trying to do some serious academic writing?

Did you do it? Don't worry. You will, sooner or later.

Have you started looking at others differently? In a more... sexual light? Have you been tempted, just for a moment, to buy those slutty clothes?

Well, I'm sorry to tell you: you will no get better. Every caption you look at, every story you enjoy, every text you read will keep taking just a little bit of your mind, every single time. Weakening you. making the line between your online self and your other self so fuzzy...

And I'm taking zero risks by telling you. Because you're addicted. You're too far gone. You won't stop. Sure, you might quit... for a bit. That only makes the relapse so much more delightful.

So why tell you? Because I want you to know. I want you to be fully aware of how you're fucking your own mind. I want you to know what I'm doing to you. And that even knowing it, you won't stop.

And I'm telling you because I know that your awareness of your own downfall will feel so, so good for you...

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ichimerapunk · 4 months

Text

A thought regarding DPxDC fanfic authors who are looking for rational for why Danny can’t stay with his parents…

So there seems to be a few common plot devices used in DP x DC fanfics to rationalize why Danny can’t stay with his parents anymore. These include Danny’s parents being dead, they discover he’s a ghost and hate him for it, or Danny finds himself in a different universe (among others). All these devices have their own potential in adding to a story in many ways, but I’d like to offer another option.

His parents don’t have to go nuclear on finding out Danny is half-ghost for things to become untenable.

In real life, even if a parent changes their tune and accept an aspect of their child for who they are… that doesn’t always mend relationships. Kids can still love their parents but feel unsafe or ill-at-ease around them even once their parents accept them. Parents can love their kids and accept them for who they are but feel guilt or feel awkward for past actions.

Even if what his parents did to Danny only amounted to attacking him as Phantom on occasion and openly talking about what they would do to him if caught back at home, that still has a lot of opportunity to strain relationships. (And if they did more than that… oh boy.)

That angle could be used to push for Danny seeking out other living accommodations, with or without his parents’ input. They don’t have to be going nuclear for Danny to have to/want to leave.

Another possibility if someone was looking for a little bit less acceptance but still not gun’s blazing hatred, they could be taking a “head in the sand, it doesn’t exist if I don’t acknowledge it” approach. Which has its own host of damages to a relationship.

This isn’t against the angle of “The Fentons don’t accept Danny as Phantom with prejudice and violence” (plenty of fics I have liked used it). I just wanted to throw out an alternative on the chance someone hadn’t considered the possibility and might like it.

Just some thoughts to throw out there.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc fanfic ideas #dc x dp fanfic ideas #danny phantom fanfic ideas

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cookiebelle · 1 year

Text

Me Fui de Vacaciones • Damian Priest x AFAB reader

Warnings • 2nd person pov (no use of y/n), reader is Afab but I did my best to be as inclusive and nondescript as possible

Smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected PIV sex, oral (m receiving), names (Gatita, baby, you get it), some extremely light kink (spanking, biting, choking, hair pulling), lil bit of Sir kink, size kink sort of, exactly two uses of the word “whore”, porn with an unnecessary amount of plot, tropes galore, idiots to lovers requires its own warning, bad Spanish translations probably.

Word Count • 6.2k words, I have no reasonable explanation for this.

A/N • This should go without saying, but I’m gonna say it anyway. This is a wrestling fic, featuring wrestlers. While wrestlers are indeed real people with real lives, they are also playing characters. The people mentioned in this fic are their characters, and in no way am I depicting the individuals who portray them.

Burning logs crackled. One. Two. Three beers became five. Your feet dug into soft, cool sand as you and your closest friends talked around a fire.

It was the beginning of a well deserved mini-vacation, and the five of you weren’t intending to waste a moment of it. So when you all arrived at the little beach cottage you had rented, even at nearly midnight, you were hell bent on getting the most of your time off. So the fire was built, drinks were passed around, and laughter carried across the beach.

Most people called your friends “The Judgment Day”. You just called them family, though. You had met Damian first, in 2020, the near end of his NXT career marking your beginning. He quickly became your mentor as you navigated the tribulations of what it meant to work for the company, a true friend among those who looked at you only as competition. Later, he introduced you to Rhea. Then the faction formed, and Finn joined the circle, then Dom. Your call up to the main roster occurred shortly after, during the draft. The celebration that ensued when you learned you would be working with the rest of the crew was legendary. These, truly, were your people.

And then there you were, a year later, feet in the sand. You played a light tune on your guitar as though it were the backing score to Bálor’s story, leaving the group captivated. Well, everyone but you. You were looking up at the stars, taking it all in, wondering how you could possibly be so lucky. You decided not to tempt fate by asking the universe that very question, but it seemed fate had its own ideas for this week.

“You good?”

Rhea’s voice pulled you from your daydream and all at once, everyone was looking at you. You realized, in your deep state of thought, your random plucking at the guitar had faded to nothing.

“So good…” you grinned, slurring slightly, at which the group chuckled and carried on with their conversations. Crisis averted. At least you thought. Damian’s gaze lingered on you when you looked back down at the frets of your guitar, but you didn’t seem to notice.

It was a drunken stumble back to the house, sometime around 3AM, everyone finally exhausted enough to end the day and refresh themselves for the next. Except you. As they all said their goodnights and retired to their respective rooms, you found yourself on the couch, unable to sleep and watching reruns of the same sitcoms you had seen a hundred times.

—————

“Hey… Hey you…”

You felt something… poking you?

“Hellooooo…”

You gasped and sat up, eyes wildly searching the room until you found Rhea standing above you. It was light outside, light enough that golden rays peeked through the curtains and illuminated her face. You glanced at the clock. 7am. Hadn’t you guys just gone to bed?

“We’re going to the gym. You coming?”

“I thought we were on vacation,” You groaned and laid back down, covering your face with a throw pillow as you realized how sore your back was. Why the hell did you sleep on the couch all night?

“Suit yourself. We’ll back in a couple hours.”

You rolled over, scrunched up but content as the footsteps left the house, got in the car, and drove away. Slowly, you dozed back off into that euphoric state of half sleep.

“Hey…”

Oh fuck. Damian. Your heart picked up and suddenly you were awake once more. You thought you had heard all of them leave, and yet…

“Hey, you awake?”

You remained rigidly still save for your breathing, even as you heard him approach. For whatever reason, pretending to still be asleep was your first and only instinct. It did you little good, however.

In one sudden motion, as if you weighed nothing at all, you were scooped up into his arms. Still, you pretended to sleep. Despite your heart racing. Despite how badly you wanted to lean into the safety and warmth of his chest. Despite the fire that sparked in your core every time you got close to him.

Yeah, you were down bad. The moment he got in the ring to spar with you that first time, you were a goner, and it only got worse as years went on. You had spent holidays together, traveled to countless cities and countries, bared your soul to him over late night gin and cigarettes. You saw him for what he was. When others saw a monster of a man, a Broken Angel as he was once called, you saw someone sensitive, fierce, and loyal. Even the flaws drew you closer, but you could focus on those another time.

You kept the feelings under the hat as best you could. The only time you let it slip was to Rhea, early on in your friendship, your eyes lingering too long on Damian as he walked away from the two of you. She promised to take the secret to her grave. That didn’t stop her from teasing you in private, though, or from dropping the subtlest of hints when you were all together. Hints Damian never seemed to get, or maybe he did. Who really knows?

Back in the present, he was carrying you… somewhere, that much you could glean with your eyes closed. And then you were placed somewhere soft. Already warm and slept in, like the comfiest hug. Wait… was this his bed? You breathed deeply and realized it was, regrettably, recognizing the scent of his hair left behind on the pillow.

He covered you with a blanket, pushing away some hair that had fallen in your face. It was a surprisingly tender gesture from someone like him, especially for “just a friend”, but that was something you had gotten used to. It was one of the many facets of who he was, showing his love with touch. He was always there for you with a hug when you needed it, or a rub to your shoulders after a good match, and he seemed to mess with your hair a lot, too. You thought nothing of it. That was just.. him.

You decided, as his hand drew away from your face, that now was as good a time as any to begin to stir. You slowly blinked your eyes open and looked up as he was still standing beside you, just turning to leave.

“Mmmm hello…” you mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep.

“Shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you up… you just looked uncomfortable and I was getting up anyway so I figured…” He seemed almost nervous, immediately pulling his hands away from you.

“No, it’s fine,” you cut him off, stretching for the first time in what felt like days, “thank you..”

“Okay, well.. you sleep. I’m gonna make breakfast..” he turned back to leave and you quickly grabbed onto his hand, tugging it backward.

“Too early for breakfast. It’s your bed. Come lay down…” your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard every word.

It wasn’t as though you two hadn’t shared plenty of beds. Traveling on tour was like that. With Dom and Rhea paired off, and Finn preferring to be alone, you two often ended up in a room together, and thanks to Damian’s stature that meant sharing a single king bed. Of course, you didn’t mind. Not even as you laid awake all those nights, trying to quell that burning need you couldn’t seem to shake when you were so close yet so far from him. You wondered how he could sleep, how he couldn’t feel your nervous energy from across the bed. Maybe he could, and just paid it no mind.

This time was different, though. Charged. Like the energy you felt shooting through the fingertips that touched him was somehow a mutual exchange. Like if you pulled your hand from his right now, you would see the electricity connecting them. You couldn’t explain how or why, all you could do was tug on his hand as he tried to decline your invitation.

“There’s no way you’re not tired, come on…”

And, after a moment of your insistence, he reluctantly obliged.

There was a dip in the bed, and you hummed happily as a strong arm wrapped around you, hugging you close for a moment as he got situated. You rolled onto your side, facing away from him so you could hide your secret little smile. Strong arms wrapped around you again, to your surprise, and you shifted until you both were comfortable laying there in each other’s space.

You two always ended up like this, once you finally found yourself able to sleep. You would wake curled up against his massive frame, him holding you in a manner that could only be described as possessive. It was almost as though he was protecting you in your slumber; From what, you weren’t sure. Bad dreams? Aliens? You always played it off as though you two just enjoyed the closeness, drawn to each other in the unconscious. You’d vehemently defend to Rhea that it was strictly platonic. The butterflies in your throat disagreed.

It felt like every single cell in your body was vibrating. You thought there was no way that you could sleep, and yet you felt your eyelids droop as his warmth spread around you. Once again, you dozed, your body weightless despite being hyper aware of the fact that you were pressed up against him. His shallow, sleepy breaths puffed across the top of your head, but you would later learn he was also not sleeping.

No, he was in the same predicament as you. Pretending to sleep while his mind raced and the smell of your hair drew him further into this downward spiral. It was all innocent thoughts at first. Friendly. Looking forward to spending time with you and the others over the next few days. Then he opened his eyes, catching a glimpse of your peaceful, sleeping face and a switch flipped. Suddenly he was consumed by the thought of waking you up and taking you then and there, finally giving into the urge he felt every time he got close to you. Every time he watched you wrestle. Every time you smiled at him from across a room, or fell asleep on him during long flights, or gave his butt a pat as he walked out from Gorilla to the ramp. He valued your friendship more than that urge, though, and it’s stopped him every time he’s nearly gone through with indulging it.

Lost in your thoughts, you only barely registered the fact that he had scooted a little bit closer to you than before, hips flush with the curve of your ass. Something else pressed against you, something somewhat firm and insistent. You blushed, trying to muffle the faintest gasp at the realization of exactly what it was. He had to be sleeping… right? Would he do this if he wasn’t?

You didn’t know what to do, frozen still by the options before you. You could ignore it, pretend to keep sleeping and act as though nothing was happening. That was the safest option. You two could proceed as usual, protecting your friendship for the long run while you pined for him still. Or… you could give in and acknowledge it, say fuck it to all of the doubt and uncertainty.

Fuck it.

You moved to back yourself up further against him, making sure to slowly grind your hips and drag your ass against the clothed protrusion. You heard a low, barely audible noise from him, spurring you on as you arched your back slightly and once again pressed your ass into him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing…” he whispered under his breath, not wanting to wake you if this was all just some kind of cruel joke the universe was playing on him. His hand went from holding you across your waist to slowly tracing a line down your side, stopping at your hip and squeezing gently. You hummed again, softly, leaning into his touch.

It burned where his fingertips made contact with your skin, feeling that same electric energy as before, stealing the breath from your lungs. It was now or never, you decided, no going back from here. A calculated risk, but you were always so bad at math. Slowly, you reached back, grabbing hold of his hip and using the new leverage to really grind against him. You heard a low rumbling, like thunder in his chest, fingers digging into your hip.

“Don’t tease me…” another barely audible growl of a whisper. You chuckled softly, putting on an air of confidence in spite of your hammering heart, moving just enough in his hold to turn your head and look innocently at him. God, he loved that look. He propped himself up on his elbow, looking you over with a glint in his eye you’d never seen before, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Who’s teasing?” You offered a smile over your shoulder.

“I mean it…” he brought you closer to him, his lips finding your bare shoulder. He placed a kiss on it, then bit down softly, eliciting the tiniest gasp from you. Another kiss, another bite, another low, sleepy whine from you as your hips begged for more friction. His hand on your hip pulled you back as he rocked slowly into you. God, why did he have to make this so good? It was bad enough that you were past some kind of point of no return, but every press of his hips to your behind only made it worse, forcing tiny moans out of you. Officially helpless to the way your body was reacting to his touch, you didn’t bother resisting it any longer. Your hand on his hip reached between the two of you, teasing along the waistband of his boxers before reaching in. Your hand slid tentatively down his pelvis, running over smooth, hot skin before finally wrapping around what you were looking for.

It was damn near as intimidating as he was. Long and thick and heavy, twitching slightly in your grasp as he grew harder. You couldn’t help but utter a quiet “Fuck”. His chest rumbled as you stroked him a few times, and you couldn’t help but groan with him, the slick heat of your core only growing more overwhelming with each glide of your palm. You felt lips on your neck now, doing the same as before. A kiss, a bite, then another soothing kiss as you mewled at the sensation, your walls clenching around nothing, absolutely begging for him. You’d be lucky if you made it out of this without him marking you, but would that really be lucky? You kept on with soft, slow strokes, breathless as he continued to focus on your neck.

“Are you sure we should do this…” he breathed in your ear, your movements slowing as you processed his question. He was giving you one last out, it seemed. One last opportunity to say “you’re right, let’s stop”, though you both knew you had already gone too far to come back from this. But, with no hesitation, you nodded.

It all happened so fast after that. In half a second you were flat on your back, eyes wide as you tried to choke out something clever or witty to say, completely failing. He wasn’t touching you yet, but nonetheless you were pinned, his massive frame caging yours entirely. Your eyes cut down to discover he’d slid his boxers off, hard cock hanging between his legs. Fuck, it looked even better than it felt. Your gaze wandered back up to his confident smirk. He knew what he was working with, clearly. Smug bastard.

“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice…” you couldn’t help but laugh, doing everything you could to look normal, ignoring the steady beating in your ears.

“Just couldn’t help but notice you admiring something…” he chuckled, then leaned back down to kiss your neck, and suddenly your mind was mush again except for him.

You were ripped from your thoughts as you found your top being pulled off and your breasts exposed, his mouth immediately attaching to one. He was all teeth and tongue, frantic and desperate, years of tension finally breaking the dam and rushing through his veins. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, writhing and gasping as he played you so expertly, somehow finding every little sensitive spot and knowing exactly how to wring the most pathetic little sounds from your throat. Had your nipples always been this sensitive? You couldn’t remember. In fact, this all felt so new, like it was your first time all over again. His intense focus turned up to you as he switched to your other breast, the eye contact enough to ruin you both. You broke it, certain you would come in an instant if you held his dark eyes any longer.

Damian let go of your nipple with a tug of his teeth, leaning up to finally kiss your lips, both hands holding your face. White heat burst behind your eyes as his tongue immediately assumed dominance over yours. You wrapped your arms around broad shoulders, moaning shamelessly into his mouth as tongues danced and one of his hands moved to firmly hold your jaw. He only broke the kiss to speak, lips just centimeters from yours.

“Pretty little thing… me estás matando…”

Your loss for words left you grinning stupidly in response. You, killing him? While you’ve lost all sense of chill, not even bothering to pretend to be casual about this? He kissed the smile off your face, biting and tugging on your bottom lip as he pulled away, leaving your lips to chase his as you whined with need. It was strange, the fact that you needed him. You’d had plenty of partners, plenty of good sex. Sure, you wanted them, but this felt like you’d surely die if you didn’t feel him inside you soon. Like your body would simply vaporize without his touch. Maybe this was how it was going to be from now on, feeling like something was distinctly missing when he wasn’t touching you.

Your flimsy cotton shorts were the next to go, his lips finding every inch of exposed skin down your abdomen and claiming it as his own. Eager hands glided down his shoulders and back, taking in the way each muscle flexed as he moved along your body.

His energy was impossible to place, manic but calm. He knew exactly what he was doing, but still moved with an urgency as if the two of you would be caught any moment. Which… was partially true. In a moment of clarity, the rest of the crew came to mind and your heart picked up at the realization that they would be back soon, and this would be over. Or worse.. they could find you two, passionately entangled. What would they say? What would HE say? You feared he would deny it, too ashamed to admit he felt anything for you, even just lust.

Your thoughts continued to race, eyes closing as you panicked. You tried to be discreet about it, but if anyone knew your cues, it was Damian. He moved back up to you, a strong yet delicate hand wrapping around your throat as he kissed you. Well, that was one way to knock out the intrusive thoughts.

“Look at me,” he squeezed ever so slightly as your eyes focused, his tone stern yet soft, “whatever you’re thinking about. Doesn’t matter right now. Tell me what does.” Another squeeze.

“You.”

“And what else…”

“… me?”

“Good girl.”

Another kiss, another squeeze, and he was gone. Back to leaving bite marks down your body. He came down to your panties and let out a silent, somewhat shaky breath. Finally. Finally he had you right where he always wanted you. It was almost overwhelming, but he didn’t let onto that. His fingers gently traced over black cotton, finding a damp spot along the seam of your cunt.

“Oh gatita,” he kept focus along that spot, shooting sparks through your entire body with how inexplicably sensitive you were, “is this all for me?”

All you could do was whimper in response, letting your head fall back to the pillow as your hips chased his fingers, begging for more. He granted you that extra friction, mouth falling open as he watched you shamelessly grind against his hand.

And then he pulled away, leaving you whining from the loss. In a blink, your panties were tossed to the floor and finally the two of you could take in the sight of one another. It took all of the self control he had not to split you open on his cock right there, but he resisted, instead kneeling between your open legs.

You looked up at him, breathing out a barely audible “please”. You nearly took him out right there, his composure faltering as he fully looked you over.

“Perfect,” he exhaled, readjusting his position and giving his straining cock a few lazy strokes, making sure you were watching. Oh, you were watching, nearly drooling at the sight.

His hand found your pussy again, gently swirling a thumb around your clit, eyes locked with yours and hand still slowly working his cock. He wanted to see every reaction, every little microexpression, he wanted it all. He had waited this long for you, years of picturing you in this exact moment. He wanted to savor everything.

You moaned through your bitten lip as he teased, not daring to look away from him. He had you captive, it seemed, frozen in place and begging for anything he could give you. Which is why you whined so pathetically when he pulled his hand away, once again.

He sucked your essence from his thumb, savoring your sweetness. You hummed at the sight, closing your eyes, only to feel his grip on your jaw a moment later to tilt your head up toward him.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice deeper, more serious. You didn’t dare disobey him, looking up like a deer in headlights. Something about that voice… you couldn’t quite place it. He growled lowly, bringing his hand back down to your cunt. He collected some of your juices on his finger, running it up and down your slick folds before slowly, agonizingly sliding it inside.

He still gripped your chin, daring you to look away as you whimpered at the sudden fullness. You had always admired his hands, giant and strong and rough, yet gentle. You’d wondered how they would feel in this exact scenario, often finding your mind wandering as your own smaller hand worked to your release in the late nights. It was beyond what you had imagined, so much more. His finger found a slow, steady pace, filling you perfectly and yet not enough all at once. You moved your hips with his rhythm, mouth slack in euphoria, eyes still trained to his.

“So fucking good for me, look how well you’re taking it,” he praised, letting go of your jaw to let you look down at where his finger was disappearing into your tight hole. Then, as you watched, he added another finger, wrenching a moan straight from your chest as your head fell back once more. Now the pace picked up, the thrusts of his hand stronger, more precise as he curled his fingers to find that sensitive little spot. You gasped and panted pathetically as he played you so expertly, looking back down at his hand only to fall back onto the pillow, overwhelmed by the sight.

It’s unfair, how he seemed to know you without knowing you. Without much effort at all from him, you found yourself closing in on climax, your panting gradually becoming uninhibited moans of “Please. Please. Please.”

“Please what, gatita?” He cooed, slowing the pace ever so slightly as he leaned over you.

“Please. Just. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Just don’t stop.”

“Oh, don’t stop?” He slowed just a bit more, grinning down at you. You could only whine in response, hips moving sloppily now, trying to encourage him to fuck you faster. Harder. He obliged… for the moment. Your walls slowly grew tighter, your moans more heady and uncontrolled. You felt the coil tighten. Tighten. Tighten…

And then he slowed again. Painfully. Your orgasm held at bay, he couldn’t have appeared more smug, knowing exactly what he was doing. You looked up at him, flushed and desperate.

“Why’d you do that?” A whine, to which his response was simply to kiss you. Again, he picked up the pace, adding another finger, making sure you felt just how much he stretched you. Oh, you felt it. Your vision went blurry at the sensation, focusing on him and only him.

It didn’t take much to bring you to that edge again, the coil tightening even more, threatening to break with every rough pump of his fingers. He was hovering over you now, leaning down and biting on your shoulder, sucking a mark into it. Apparently, he didn’t think about the consequences of that… or maybe he didn’t care. Nevertheless, he bit again, smirking into your shoulder as you arched your back and rode his fingers, dramatically chasing your high. You were so, so close, every muscle in your body tense, hands scratching down his back.

“Come on, baby. Come for me.”

It hit like a brick to the face after that, overtaking you in every way as you moaned and gasped, holding onto him for dear life. He nuzzled his face into you, kissing and sucking marks down your chest to your abdomen, every press of his lips electric.

Everything felt blurry and yet razor sharp, every muscle in your body twitching in the aftershocks. You barely registered that he had kissed back up your body, hands on either side of your head as he waited above. His lips locked with yours the moment your eyes focused, your hands immediately twisting in his hair, holding him as close to you as you could.

You felt the weeping head of his cock prod at your folds, one of his hands guiding it to rub against your clit, still sensitive from your first orgasm. You mewled with anticipation, your hips grinding down against him.

“Patience…” he breathed against your lips, your hips stilling as he slowly slid inside. Just the head. A gasp from both of you. And then another inch. Fuck. And then another. And another. Until you felt all of him and all you could do was pull him in for another consuming kiss. He started with a slow pace, almost sweet, letting you get used to his size. It quickly grew intense, rough and fast, as he let himself fall into the demands of desire. Your hands grabbed at anything on him you could as he overwhelmed you with his force.

It really was unfair, the way he was fucking you. You didn’t stand a chance against him, not finding a single opportunity to gain the upper hand, left only to meet his thrusts with reckless abandon as you moaned with each moment he filled you. You liked it, though, being at his mercy. You trusted him, strangely. You could probably get used to this.

He’s stronger than you thought possible, his grip on your thighs surely bruising you as you writhed and arched your back at a particularly delicious sensation within you. You couldn’t help but close your eyes, completely lost in the rhythm and harshness of the snap of his hips. He bared his teeth as he fucked you harder. Faster. Tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the intensity. And then his hand was over your mouth, his eyes off you for the first time since this dance began. He was scanning outside the open window, watching a car come down the street, thinking it could be the rest of the group. That didn’t mean he stopped fucking you. In fact, it only got more intense.

“That’s right. Fucking take it.” he was back to looking down at you and your wide eyes, burying himself so deep inside you, you were sure he was ruining you entirely, “that’s it, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” Except he didn’t pull his hand from your mouth, smirking as you attempted to speak anyway, your mind too gone. That is.. until he slid himself fully inside, grinding his hips against yours. You moaned out loud, sure that the neighbors have heard you by now, your walls squeezing around him and feeling the drag as he pulled his cock out entirely.

“On your knees,” a simple order, and yet your brain was static. You blinked up at him before shaking away the fog and turning yourself over, wiggling your ass in his face just a little. His growl shook you, two strong hands grabbing hold of your ass and squeezing.

“Love this ass. Always loved this ass. Estuve soñando al respecto,” he kept squeezing, spreading you and groaning at the sight. You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, giving it another shake in his face. Suddenly, you felt teeth on flesh, letting out a yelp that quickly became a satisfied sigh, your head dipping down past your shoulders. Somehow, you didn’t expect his hand to come crashing down on you, the slap against your ass ringing out in the empty house. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, too immersed in the moment to acknowledge anything but the way your back arched and your chest created the most depraved noise you’d ever heard.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” Another slap, you gripped at the bedsheets to keep yourself grounded, “you like being treated like a whore?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered involuntarily, nearly slapping your own hand over your mouth at the realization of what you’d said.

“What.. did you just call me?”

“Nothing…”

A ruthless slap, “Tell me.”

You sobbed at the impact, “sir.”

The growl in his chest shook you, and with little warning his cock was pressing to your folds once again, sliding in with ease and setting a brutal pace right off the bat. You dropped to your elbows and arched your back, eyes closing as your head once again dropped. Of course, he took advantage and leaned over you, one hand finding the back of your head and pressing you down into the bed, holding it there. He slapped your ass with the other, laughing when you moaned into the mattress. It left the prettiest pink handprint, he almost wished he could get a picture of it.

You couldn’t believe the way he was fucking you. Like— like a whore, just like he said. You’d think he’d be gentle with you, being your first time together, that he’d want to show you how worthy he was of your pussy. In a way, he was showing you that. He was showing you his worth by fucking you absolutely stupid, and you were loving it. So much that you weren’t far from another climax, feeling your walls tighten around him, dragging such a beautiful sound from him. His hand found your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling your head off the bed. You cried out, steadying yourself on your hands. It was overwhelming, every sensation he subjected you to, to the point that you felt completely delirious with pleasure, all sense of control lost. You fucked yourself sloppily back on his cock, his fist pulling tighter on your hair. The tears pricked your eyes again, eyes whiting out.

“Ohhh fuck, are you coming? You filthy little—” he didn’t finish, groaning as your cunt rhythmically clenched around him, his own thrusts growing more erratic. You didn’t even hear him praising you with little ‘good girls’ and whispers of how good you feel, your head clouded with the sounds of your own depravity. You rode out your orgasm for what felt like hours, nearly collapsing as your body ceased quaking.

Your brain was working in half time, barely registering that he was still fucking you slowly, trying to bring you back to reality. You tried to speak, but the words were completely incoherent.

“Need a minute,” you finally mumbled, reaching back and grabbing his hand that rested on your hip. He obliged, pulling out and laying down beside you, pulling you into his arms. Your breath caught gradually, your mental faculties growing stronger by the second despite your throbbing cunt. You sighed contentedly, leaning up and kissing him for just a moment. You had your own ideas, now, and one in particular overtook your thoughts.

You kissed him again, grabbing hold of his cock, still slick with you. Your hand stroked him softly as you shifted down the bed, timidly tapping his leg as to ask him to open them. He did so, and you climbed between them, licking your lips as his cock bobbed in anticipation. You took him hungrily into your mouth, not bothering to tease, too eager to feel him.

Now it was your turn to show how unfair you could be, expertly taking him deep into your throat, holding there until you choked. Immediately, he was gone, head falling back on the pillow until he realized he would rather watch you. Your hand assisted your bobbing head, using your tongue to lap at every vein and ridge of his perfect dick. His groans and words of encouragement and yes gatitas only fueled you, giving everything you had to taking him. You almost wanted him to cum right there, to lose all composure and fill your mouth. He had other plans, however, pulling you by the hair off his cock and admiring the fucked out look on your face.

“So fucking pretty,” he mused, pulling you up to him and kissing you. It was all a ploy, of course, and you let him guide you to straddle him, your hips hovering just above his waiting cock. He ordered you to look at him, your brain already to fuck drunk disobey, eyes fixed on him as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Go ahead, take it all,” he couldn’t help but grin, brow furrowing in pleasure as you did just that, your own face mirroring his. It was almost too much, almost. Getting your balance, you slowly began to bounce on his lap, leaning on his shoulders for leverage. From there it was an endurance test, the pleasure of riding him only tainted by the strain it put on your knees. Still, you continued, his hands finding your hips to help bounce you on his lap, mewling when his hand crashed down on your ass.

You loved having the power. Loved watching his face twist in pleasure as you grinded your hips down onto his. … and you loved that it took little effort for him to suddenly flip you onto your back once more, placing your legs up around his shoulders as he sunk back into you. Every thrust was slow now. Powerful. So much so that each one knocked you back into the wall. It didn’t matter, you were too delirious by the way he was abusing that little spot inside you, seeing stars as you looked up at his concentrated face.

It was close, again, a climax brewing in your core that nearly overtook you the moment you felt it. Your sighs and moans became whines, hands gripped the sheets below you as he just continued with each knock of his hips to yours, folding you up as he leaned forward and somehow sunk impossibly deeper inside you. You pleaded to him, begged him, did everything you could to encourage him to keep going, please. Just another minute. ‘I’m so close’. But he didn’t even have time to stop, the wave crashing over you as the last ‘please’ left your lips and all you could hear was ringing in your ears and the sound of him grunting through each perfect squeeze of your walls around him.

And suddenly you heard something new. A breathy sort of noise intermixed with ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’ as his thrusts grew less calculated. Almost sloppy. His hips jerking with every thrust until he couldn’t stall any longer.

“Come on, Papí. Come for me…” you breathed, certain you were tearing the sheets at this point while your cunt pulsed around him, still coming yourself.

Papí. That was all it took for him to fill you, painting your walls as his fingernails dug crescents into your thighs. You laid there, chest heaving as the two of you shared a blissful moment, eyes locked in the realization of what had just happened. And then, as if to dispel the little voice of worry in the back of your mind, he let your legs down gently and climbed up beside you, taking your face into his hands and kissing you. It wasn’t a particularly passionate kiss, but it was perfect for that moment. Perfect enough to ease that budding anxiety.

“We should do that again…” he whispered into your ear, breaking the tension in the air as you burst into a laugh.

“I was thinking the very same thing.”

——

Friends who asked to be tagged: @melisabesurviving @bbygirlnessa18 @missfamilyjeweles @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @thealliasylum @romanreignkisser

#damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian priest smut #damian priest fanfiction #punishment martinez

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celesterayel · 8 months

Text

the tragic heroes | percy jackson

pairing: percy Jackson ✩ ‧₊˚

IN WHICH — the tragic heroes and the tragedy that appeases the chaos.

The monster cackles in delight, its bulging eyes crinkling with glee and invoking disgust in all that have (and will) witness its countenance. Darkness hides all other pallors of rotting skin and luminously straining veins, slivers of shades of bruised blues and bloody reds clashing against the dark abyss of the room, that the monster has no use for as an entity of chaos.

Bells foil loudly in the distance, perturbing the distant silence of the castle with grating screeches only reaching the heights of noise as the pits of tartarus. It is a cacophony of choked laughter and perversive glee for the delicate steps that built the foundation for what is to come. And soon it shall!

The Fates have come knocking on the door of destiny and offered up to the beast the next great tragedy that shall put all the others to shame. A deal for judgement and devastation. The Fates have weaved through sorrows befitting the leagues of Icarus's falling and Achille's lost love, enthralling the vices of Aphrodite's cruel methods that end with aching lips and entranced poets--forever written into history. They have searched the sands of time and bid the eons of creation for this.

The monster lounges forward as if the visions in the water will disappear and greedily drinks forth the taste of cataclysmic devotion and the etchings of pain in the cosmos as the moonlight of the water provides the burning echoes from lips that shall taste the sweetest sin and ache for it in every other lifetime. What a lovely destruction this will be.

The monster pitches out, “It has begun, young little hero. Such pretty sorrows..."

The Fates have certainly outdone themselves. This story will be one for the ages to come and even after!

The walls haunch over and enclose the story in its grasp, keeping it their secret even if only just a bit longer. It reeks of desperation and devastation--the greatest ones always do.

Voices of the damned and lost screech out in laughter, the entity mocks in pity or sadness all the same: "Wretched Greek story doomed to repeat like it has every lifetime; the pour of ichor waning between reality and prophecies about to drip, drip, drip down the pages. Except in this one, it seems perhaps the gods made a mistake choosing you for him. He has no qualms choosing you over all else. I must say, I shall have fun watching the Earth burn and Olympus fall down--the chaos it shall bring...delightful! Blessing or curse we have yet to see! It seems I have a new tale to tell when the cursed half-bloods come crooning at my gates to weep. My, what marvelous tunes!”

The beast could taste the tears and heartache that slide right off this tale, so presently tasteful.

My, my what marvelous fortunes to come indeed.

The Savior of Olympus., Son of the Seas, Percy Jackson. The Survivor.

The Great One, Daughter of the Heavens, Callopeia Iris. The Tragedy.

"Finally a story for the gods below who ache for destruction and tragedy like it was made for them. They shall have a riot."

The Tragic Heroes.

✩ ‧₊˚ author note i was doing physics and calc hw and this came into my mind and now thinking of creating a full on fanfic on ao3 and wattpad based on the dialogue i wrote. i apologize for being so inactive and for the requests in my inbox. swear I have alot planned and written but classes are kicking me rn. i just needed to post this cuz i think it sounded really good :)

#luke castellan #percy jackson #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo series #percy jackson show #annabeth chase #luke x reader #luke pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fic writing #fan fiction #celesterayel

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glaciertea · 18 days

Text

Masterlist Here

Tales the Songs Weave

Bonus: Wedding

Notes: This is from my long-fic, but can also be read as a one-shot. You do not need to know anything from that to be able to read this~

CW: 18+, Submissive Miguel, Temperature play (Ice), light bondage, oral (M and F giving/receiving), heavy teasing (Miguel receiving), praise kink, PinV, overstimulation, an overall sexy time~

Bonus Two: I Know I Don't Want Nobody Else but You

Word count: 4K

The honeymoon. The most intimate time after the wedding. The time where you and your new partner can enjoy each other's company even more, but in a different location.

You honestly didn't care if you and Miguel went on a honeymoon, but he insisted on a getaway to some fancy beach house. You were a bit surprised when he offered the beach of all places as he struck you as a person who seems to hate sand getting into places where it shouldn't be. But he really wanted to take you to this beautiful island with a private spot.

You agreed to go, and your only offer was for him to allow you to help pay for it. He tried to fight back, telling you that he had it all under control, but you told him that was his honeymoon as well, and you seriously didn't mind chipping in. He knew he wasn't going to win this argument and allowed you to give a couple of hundred dollars.

He wanted to transfer back the money the moment he received it but refrained. Asking for time off work and getting scolded by your boss for even bothering to ask because the answer was always going to be yes (you stated that you didn't want to just up and leave), you and Miguel booked everything and flew out for the trip.

The island was gorgeous. White sand with bits of red, luscious green landscapes, and the vast blue water in front that glowed at night.

The house was stunning. It was two stories high, and there were windows seemingly all over. It was white with hints of gray, white, and seafoam green. It screamed luxurious on the outside, yet the interior held more of a comfy heart inside. With white wood flooring, open flooring, and a high ceiling, it appeared more like a cabin, but with beach-style furniture. And you both loved it.

Your favorite part of the whole place was the bedroom that led out to the balcony.

You two had an amazing vantage point of the ocean, watching the sun come up and absorb the night with its beautiful oranges and kissing golden rays. To it, retiring for the night turned the purples and pinks into dark blues, embellishing the sky with the twinkling stars and milky way dancing around the moon. There was something about the illuminating glows from both the sun and moon when they beamed through the curtains that made you feel warm and calm.

Maybe it was the breezes that would stream through, whistling a soft tune in your ears. Or possibly the ambience of the sounds of crashing waves or the tides ascending from the shore and back.

Or maybe it was being near him.

Waking up to being entangled in each other's grasp made those emotions swirl deep. Seeing the beams hug his tan skin whether you were on the beach or in the house made you question how you were so lucky to end up with a man like him. And Miguel made sure to return the same sentiment. When you two weren't exploring the island or relaxing and enjoying each other's company, you two were all over one another.

On the sands of the beach (Miguel made sure to lay out a huge blanket), in the kitchen, the dining room, the laundry room, even on the roof (though you were ready to get down after the first thrust). You found your bodies nearly all over the beach house and beach.

Needless to say, hands couldn't be kept to yourselves for the first four out of the eight days.

It was all magical, and you were relishing every millisecond, but it got you thinking. You wanted to surprise Miguel. He would always catch you swooning over him if he was swimming or simply swinging in the hammock with a book that he would abandon a few pages in. He would instigate and lead you to any part of the house or wherever you were standing, and you both end up being sweaty, sticky messes.

But you wanted to throw him off track; you wanted him to sit back and enjoy himself while you savored every inch of your Renaissance marble sculpture on the runway, lover. You were going to find that way.

You and Miguel were snuggled up on the couch after coming back from a hibachi dinner that resided on the island, watching some movie, but you were barely paying attention to it.

“Vale, has estado distraído toda la noche. Tell me what's on your mind, mi Luna.” He peppered kisses your shoulder and neck.

You bit your bottom lip and pushed your body more into his. “It's nothing. Just some prime time thinking.”

“Prime time thinking?”

“Mhm.” You purse your lips and continue eyeballing the film.

“Mi Luna,” he said, tightening his grip and leaned in close to your ear. “Tell me what's on your mind. Now, mi corazón.”

A shiver spilled down your spine. You could restrain the temptation of wanting to give in, but you were always putty in his hands.

“Okay, fine. I'm only going to say this because you asked; it's actually been on my mind for the last day or so, and it's all I could ever—”

“Mi Luna, you're stalling.” His fingers brushed your hair.

You figured you outwardly saying it wasn't going to help you in the slightest. Expressing your desires didn't come easy, and it amped up around him, but tonight you were going to do this. You decided to not tell but show instead.

“Meet me in the bedroom in five minutes.” You patted his chest and darted off to the stairs. “And don't come until I say, mi Estrella!”

Stunned, he listened to the bedroom door close and shut his eyes and opened them bewildered. “Uh, okay.”

He debated if he should settle more into the couch or not get more comfortable. Every second, he would wander his attention over to a nearby clock then divert it elsewhere as time purposely slowed down whenever he took a peek. He listened out and heard you moving. He took note of every step and tiptoe you made across the floorboards. When six minutes passed, Miguel had to fight with himself from jumping up and darting in the room when you finally called for him.

Not craving to prolong the wait, he sped up the stairs and into the room where you lay propped up on the pillows, your arms sprawled on the cushions and legs stretched out with one over the other. You were in a silk robe but left no room for imagination. You were only in your underwear, and a smile was gracing you.

Miguel didn't know how to react, so he allowed his body to do the talking for him. He took off his shirt and slipped his pants right off. You suspected he would try to go for it; it even confirmed your suspicion even more when he dipped onto the bed and crawled towards you with those starving eyes.

“Mi Luna, you know I will give you anything to fill your urges.”

You shushed him and put your finger to mouth, winking innocently.

“I know, Miggy. But tonight, we're going to switch that around.”

He tipped his head to the side, trying to piece together what you meant by that, and that's when it dawned on him. “Mi corazón, are you wanting to take-”

“On the bed, and place your back on the headboard.” You rolled off the bed and stood by it and pointed at the spot where you were.

He was enticed and made his way over to get himself comfortable. Pleased, you discarded the robe, having it sink to the floor and straddled Miguel's hips. You were anticipating how far you could go. Wetting your lips, you began to roam your hands over his chest. You needed to see him squirm.

“Hands over your head.”

“And if I were to say no, mi Luna?” He gave a playful smirk and grinned harder when you rolled your eyes.

Taking his wrists, you shuffled up and pinned them above for him. “Now,” you locked eyes with him and followed his gaze whenever it went. “Webs. Let's go.”

When he didn't move a muscle, you knew you had to take matters into your own hands. Releasing him from your hold, Miguel went to lower his arms when you snatched one and planted it back on the wall. Quickly taking the free one, you angled it until it aligned with the other, firmly pressing his wrist so his web could bound it up.

“Mi Luna.”

“If you want to do things the hard way, then I can play that game too.” You repeat the process, moving his hand and shooting more to capture the other. “Much better.” You made sure to give him wiggle room on the first constrained arm, just in case.

Miguel balled his claw into a fist. He was curious to see what you had planned up. “You have me trapped. Now what?”

You kept quiet and pulled down his briefs to reveal his penis red and leaking the transparent liquid already.

“Mi Luna—ah! Oh, fuck.”

Miguel arched his back when your tongue found the tip, lazily swirling it around. He wasn't expecting you to jump right in. You were concentrating on flicking your tongue and placing feathery kisses from the body to the base. You fondled his balls, taking a quarter of him and slobbering on it as much as possible.

He exhaled and rolled his hips along with your movements when you pulled away with a pop and pressed your hands harder to his thighs. “No. Moving.” You went back, licking the shaft before putting it back in your mouth.

Miguel froze at the command when a low growl escaped from his throat. He went back to bucking his hips, wondering how you'd punish him. That, and he was desperate to have you take more of him. His breathing grew when he found himself successful, until he heard an irritated grunt.

You removed yourself from him and glared. The dangerous look sent a shiver down Miguel's spine, but he held it in, returning his own surly gaze. He watched you sit up and move back from him to reach the edge of the bed. His eyebrows knit, examining what your next move could possibly be.

“That warning wasn't for nothing.” You stood and turned your back to him. “For that, you get a punishment.”

You make your way towards the door, and Miguel begins to slightly panic. “Mi Luna, wait!” But you were already out of the room.

Were you going to leave him there like this? And for how long? He groaned out from the desire, his body burning with need. His eyes were locked on the door, growing more and more heated with every second that passed. He heard you shuffling around in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and the fridge.

After a minute, he was ready to call out for you when you strutted back in, with a wine glass and four ice cubes in it. You sat it on the bedside stand and plucked one out. He eyed you intensely, wondering what your next move was going to be. You smirked at his expression, removed your dampened underwear, and sat across from him, making sure to keep your legs spread enough for him to see all of you.

Putting the cube to your lips, you lap at it seductively, letting the cool droplets drip on your chest down to your stomach. Miguel was fixated on the way your lips curled around the solid. He tried to control his breathing as his cock throbbed relentlessly.

“Mi Luna...” he was already out of breath.

“Your punishment.” You moved the ice over his tip and let some drip on it. He groaned and threw his head. “Is to watch me please myself.”

You roamed it over yourself. Down your neck to your nipples. He followed your hands, ready to rip the bindings from his wrists, but kept himself at bay. He wanted nothing more than to replace that ice cube with his tongue. He was seriously jealous over frozen water; only you could get him to that point.

You made direct eye contact; your sharp hisses and soft moans as you trailed the ice down to your needy cunt had Miguel moaning out. You rubbed the nearly melted cube over your folds and clit, making your back arch. Your free hand reached down, and you stuck two fingers in yourself.

You made sure to scissor so he could adore every part.

“Por favor, mi corazón, por favor no hagas esto. Lo siento, pero por favor.” He begged as your pussy became wetter and wetter.

“Miguel,” you gasped out. You kept going until it completely melted. You were glistening from your chest to your thighs, your vagina very puffy as the clit poked out.

“Mi Luna.” His voice was filled with nothing but lust and needs. “Please…”

“Now, Miguel, when I tell you to not move, do not move. Yes ma'am?” You crawled your way over to him.

“Yes.” He replied, nothing but a shaky arousal in his tone.

You grabbed the back of his head and reeled him close to your face. “I said, yes, ma'am?”

Miguel almost came on the spot. “Ye-yes ma'am.”

“Good boy.” You placed your lips to his and went for another ice cube. You licked at it some, sucking it before moving it to him. “Lick.”

He did as he was told. You shivered when his tongue came into contact with your fingers, trying to stifle any sounds wanting to escape. You took it away when you were pleased with the size and began to pump his slick, veiny cock. It was hot and leaking out like crazy. You were a bit pleased with how well this was going.

You went in and nipped at his neck, leaving a couple of nice hickeys for anyone to see.

“All for me.” You purred right in his ear and placed the half-melted cube on the tip, sliding it down his length and then back up.

You moved back to get a nice view of your treatment. Miguel thrashed at the frigid sensation, his cock twitching as you rubbed it on the swollen tip. The more pre-cum that welled out, made you more proud.

“You're doing so good.” You wickedly grinned and plopped the rest of the ice in your mouth, taking him back in your mouth all the way.

Miguel moaned out, a string of swears in Spanish falling out. He looked down at your head, bobbing crazily, the sensations overwhelming his senses. His claws pricked his own palms, leaving indents in them.

Your whirling tongue and the slobbering made him want to cry. He desperately needed to release and wanted to buck his hips, but didn't want to endure another punishment, so he could stay still and watch your face and the copious amount of liquid spilling out from your mouth.

He glanced down when he saw you looking up at him through your lashes. The lewd sounds and the stare you were giving were enough to make him snap.

“Ay, mierda- mi Luna- fuck. I'm going to- fuck—I'm cumming.” He groaned out, and you dug your nails into his sides, taking every drop of him.

You released yourself from him and lifted your head, mouth wide open. Miguel almost fainted from the sight, watching some of his seed drizzle down your chin before you gulped down the mouthful.

“So delicious.” You licked your lips and cleaned up the rest of your face. “You always taste so good.”

“Vas a ser mi muerte.” Miguel rested back on the headboard. You took pride in his sweaty, disheveled state, and your smile wasn't washing away.

“You doing okay, mi Estrella?” You brushed away a bit of sweat from his forehead and kissed it.

“Sí, mi Luna.” His eyes seemingly got brighter when he looked at you. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

“Any chance you get.” You went in for a kiss, letting him taste himself and taking the third cube. “Now for being such a good boy, let me reward you by helping you cool down and giving you something special.”

Miguel smirked and licked his lips. “What could be more special than what just happened?”

“You'll see.”

Lapping at the ice, you ran it over his pecs, abs, and nipples, circling around them before biting one of the hardened nubs. Miguel sighed out, eyes fluttering in the back of his head. It did feel nice to let you take the lead, and it really put it in perspective how kinky you could exactly get. He was certainly going to have you take charge more often.

Nodding your head at the shine of his chest and stomach, you decided he was ready for the main course. You stood up on the bed, holding your arms out to balance, and moved your vagina a couple of inches in front of Miguel's face. You placed one hand on the wall near his arms and propped a knee on his shoulder.

“Now that you're cooled down, here's your reward.” You ran the ice over your folds. “Go ahead, Miggy. Eat me out.”

Miguel didn't hesitate on that instruction and took you in his mouth. His tongue darts in and out to taste you. He sucked and eagerly ran the wet muscle eagerly, not wanting to miss a single spot.

You called out his name and immediately dropped the ice cube, not sure where it landed. Miguel growled out and made out with your honeyed pussy, wagging his head like a madman. You inclined more into him and the wall. Your hand gripped on his hair as you tried to maintain that balance.

Delving deeper into your core, he was letting not one drop escape from him. He worshiped every part of you; he loved the taste of you. The overflow of your moans sent him in a spiral. You bucked your hips whenever he plunged farther in.

You hissed and licked his arms, grazing the veins popping out, and felt yourself get closer and closer. You moved away and peered down at the trail of spit that was connected from Miguel's lips to your pussy. You whined and plopped back down on his wet lap from the ice you dropped before colliding your mouth into his, needing to taste every part. You sucked on his tongue, rubbing your wet folds along the tip of his cock, teasing him for your amusement, but even you couldn't take it.

“Mi Luna.” Miguel snarled, but you pretended to not hear and went to nip his neck.

The immense amount of foreplay made his dick very warm and firm. Feeling it pulsate against you had you shuddering. You brushed on him some more, receiving a jerk and bucking from the unceasing taunting.

“Eag-eager, huh, Miggy?” You giggled when you faced him, but you weren't expecting the parlous glint in those eyes.

You gulped. Goosebumps pricked all over your skin when Miguel freed himself from his webs, the residue floating in the air. You should've figured that him getting out of the bindings wouldn't take much of an effort. Placing his hands tightly on your bottom made you squeak.

“H-hey! I'm supposed to be taking the lead.”

“You are, but this teasing is stopping now.”

He forced you to take the head and stiffened his body. You bit your bottom lip and didn't move for a few seconds, and that evoked a strangled whine from Miguel.

“Por favor, no hagas esto, mi corazón. I can't take the punishm- shit!”

You sank down on him all the way, your walls enveloping the burning cock. Squeezing his shoulders, you began bouncing in a rhythmic motion. Wet sloshes sprung from the puddle and your juices. Your voices were loud, calling out each other's names. You sharply inhaled, adoring how red Miguel had gotten. You rocked more into him, gyrating your hips to the point where he swore you were spelling his name.

An electrifying shock coursed down your back as a breathy moan left your lips. You trembled as an orgasm shook you.

“I love you, mi Estrella.” You whispered near his lips. “You okay? I wasn't too rough, was I?”

“I love you too, mi Luna. And no, you were amazing.” He wiped away your tears and hoisted you up.

You were a bit dazed when he pinned you against the wall, placing your arms by the sides of your head and prying your legs as far as they could go. His webs flung over your body to keep you held up and sturdy. He dug his talons in and glared deep into your eyes. You were hypnotized by his lascivious red iris and whimpered his name.

“Mine.” Miguel bit down on your neck and shoved himself in one motion.

“Yours.” You cried out as your body was going numb, the personal novacane rushing through your bloodstream, but you still squeezed every inch of him.

“Feels amazing. Te sientes tan bien.” Miguel moaned and thrusted into your tight heat, loving every squelch and slurred speech emitting from you.

The speed he was going was so insane that you swore you were going to fall through. He gropes your breast, pinching and pulling at the nipple; his grunts and soft groans sounded pleasant in your ears. The moonlight shined through, bathing him and complimenting his skin.

His hip bones smack into yours. The messy pool leaking whenever his balls slapped against your delectable, creamy pussy. He stroked your every inch, admiring your intoxicating face. Even though you were numb, every breech was wonderful. You were being split open, the engorged tip rubbing on your cervix, when another climax spilled out of you.

He didn't let up, dropping his head on the crown of your hair, taking in your scent. “Mi esposa, mía. Mi vida, mi galaxia, mi luna.”

Your heart was beating in your eardrums. Miguel's dick pulsed madly in you, his panting becoming irregular.

“I love you. I love you. Te amo. Te amo.” Miguel convulsed and bit your neck once more. Shot after shot of his cum seeped deep in you, along with more of his venom. Kissing your sweaty forehead and lips, he smiled at your tousled state. “Thank you for taking charge, mi corazón.”

You struggled to give half a smirk, but the twitch was enough for him.

“Let's get you cleaned up. Want me to open the balcony door?”

Your eyes tried their best to narrow at it, and thankfully, he understood.

“Alright. I love you, mi Luna. You go ahead and relax. You deserve it.” He tore off the netting and carried you to the bathroom before letting the salty sea and sounds croon in the room.

You loved this man with all your heart.

• • •

Miguel scratched his head and scanned the bathroom to make sure he wasn't leaving anything behind.

The day before, you both ordered in some food, chatted, and slept all day after that intense round, deciding to use that day to merely relax and regain energy before heading back home today.

Peeking in the shower to grab your body wash, his ears perked up to your voice.

“Miggy? We have a slight problem.” You called out.

He strolled out to where you were facing a wall. Your hands were at your sides with a look of mild concern. “The wall.”

He furrowed his brows and followed your line of vision. “What happened to the wall?” And that's when he noticed the claw marks and cracks going from big to small decorating the light blue paint. “Ah.”

“I think we're going to lose that deposit.” You sighed and gazed up at him, smirking at his work.

“I'm fine with losing it. And I'll do it again and again, mi Luna.” He kissed your temple then went back to packing, leaving you feeling extremely flustered and your face in your hands.

This was undoubtedly the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with, and you weren't going to complain, not one bit.

#Spotify #miguel fanfic #tales the songs weave #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel smut #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x fem!reader

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jiyascepter · 3 months

Note

Happy 1k omg !! I wanted to request smth for loki + "I'd run away and hide with you / I know that you got daddy issues, and I do too" from daddy issues by the neighborhood bc I think that song suits him so much haha

Run Away

MASTERLIST The Tunes & Tales Collection (Masterlist Soon!)

Pairing: Loki x f!reader

Words: 576

Prompt: -> "I'd run away and hide with you / I know that you got daddy issues, and I do too"

-> "We're like two fingers of the same hand The Hand of Fate writing on the sand"

-> "I'm gonna run away with you Gonna run away into your eyes blue I'm gonna run away with you I'm gonna run away into your eyes blue"

Requested by: @eleniblue & annonie 𖹭

Warnings/Content: Angst/hurt/comfort; mentions of leaving home, kisses

Summary: You and Loki decide to run away.

A/n: Thank you for requesting anon and @eleniblue! These two prompts were so alike to me that I couldn't help but merge the story with them, I hope it's not a problem 𖹭 hope you both like the story, thank you soo much for requesting 🥰

In the quiet of the moonlit forest, you stood on the edge of the realm you called home, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration. The shadows of your father's castle loomed behind you, a constant reminder of the life you were about to leave behind. Born a princess, you had always been a light of your father’s heart.

But tonight, everything was going to fade behind. Because you had fallen for the prince of Asgard, the snarky son of Odin, Loki. His presence was like a magnetic pull to you, his charm and wittiness had found a way to your heart.

He was everything you weren't—serious, witty, and often shrouded in a snarky demeanor. Yet, beneath that exterior, you had found his kindred spirit. And you absolutely loved it.

“We're like two fingers of the same hand,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you reached out to him.

“The Hand of Fate writing on the sand,” Loki completed, his blue eyes piercing through the darkness, filled with the same longing that mirrored yours.

You both were away from the castle grounds, away from the eyes of the guards. Because if they were to see him, not even a second would pass by and they would start greeting him with arrows.

“I can’t stay here anymore,” you say, your voice oozing with emotions. “Father won’t let me marry you, but I can’t bear the thought of not being with you.”

That was true for both of you. And not only the idea of marrying, the thought of his daughter meeting Prince Loki of Asgard was absolutely infuriating to your father. Same could be said for Odin, his rival for centuries.

He looks down at you, cupping your face in his hands. “Run away with me, darling.”

You felt a tear escape, trailing down your cheek and nodding while you gazed into his beautiful blue eyes. “I'm gonna run away with you,” you echoed.

Loki stepped closer, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you into him with a fervent need. He pressed his forehead against yours, so close you could hear his breathing. You were both scared, leaving your royal pasts would not be an easy thing.

But you were both tired of being tied down from the restraints of both of your fathers.

He gazed down at you with his soft eyes, his lips found yours, the kiss passionate and urgent, a desperate mingling of love and sorrow. Your fingers delved into his dark hair, and you felt his heart beating against your own, fast and fervent.

Breaking the kiss, Loki rested his forehead against yours again, his breath mingling with yours. "But…are you sure about this? About running away with someone like…me?” His eyes showed vulnerability that you rarely got to see.

You smiled at him, “Who else can I run away except you, Loki?” You touched his hand against your face, “I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

When you both finally broke apart, you took a glance at your home, the beautiful castle you had lived all your life in. “We’ll be outlaws,” you said, a touch of your usual cheerfulness creeping back into your voice.

Loki chuckled, though his heart ached. “Then let’s be the most legendary outlaws the realms have ever seen, right my sweet?”

He took your hand in his, radiating his charming smile before you two slipped away into the night.

┈➤ Loki Taglist in the comments! Lmk if you want to join or just click this 𖹭

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tenjikyu · 10 months

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𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 - 𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘬𝘪 - 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ extremely fluffy , male!reader throughout the entire series.

PART Il • PART IV • GENSHIN M. LIST

tag list - @wanderchive @wanderer-baizhu-simp @gimmealamp @mis-disaster @remi-appalance @lucianidealz @sleepdeprivedpotato @unemiart @heejinsong @kiiyoooo @sweett-heartzz @camryn-ciel67 @aruaruru @danika-redgrave124 @ravencalamity @snowcatlove @bunbunboysworld @kaoyamamegami @aphxdea @faesfaggotboyfriend @avatsufaust @danika-redgrave124 @red1sg0n3 @idolautism @sleepndacloud @squishyboo @ally674 @totallynotanagent

life in fontaine was quite different to what you had expected, however you surmised that it was due to the fact that you spent most of your days around… interesting… characters.

on one hand, you had some clingy little magician hanging off your arm and treating you as if he was your big brother wherever you went, which only reminded you of a certain redhead back in the day.

on another hand, you had a classy lady who wore a gorgous gold dress and was possibly one of the most glammed up people you’ve ever seen, who insists on dragging you around with her, taking you to all sorts of little shops and cafés. when questioned why she does this, she only smiles, saying how you seemed lonely and needed a friendly face that wasn’t bursting you eardrums with enthusiasm constantly.

having an absent female role throughout your childhood, you slowly began to cling to navia. from the moment you requested the both of you go on a little snack date, she was your official big sister!

with all these eccentric people in your life with seemingly no limit on their social battery, you find yourself overly exhausted almost every evening.

this all changed when a humble and shy diver boy swam into your story.

after about a month of living within the walls of fontaine, you soon come to realise you never formally introduced yourself to lyney’s younger brother, who was absent the first time you ever met the twins.

from what you could recall, freminet was a reserved yet somewhat stoic character. from what lynette had separately told you, he was easily flustered and a bit difficult to talk to. for awhile, you just accepted the fact you might not ever even meet the boy as you had never ACTUALLY seen him out and about.

until the day you decided you’d explore the waters.

like many people in fontaine, you too were curious and mesmerised about the beauty of the sea. the shimmering blue waves blended into the prismatic pinks of the seabed. an assortment of colours could be seen from the top of the ocean and you just had to know what lay beneath the surface.

so, like every normal people would do, you grabbed some overglamified water-gear (NOT diving gear), and hopped straight into the ocean. you were a fairly strong swimmer so you had no issues going under, you weren’t planning on diving deep into water ravines and ocean monuments after all.

looking at all the ocean had to offer you, your eyes glimmered in an almsot spellbound way. the ocean was hypnotic, an almsot angelic tune could be deciphered as you swam further.

going down a little, you see something almost glowing? just beneath the sand. as you go to pick it up, you then realise it wasn’t an object, but a flower. you then recalled what lyney had told you about certain flowers of fontaine.

a little giddy, you go to pick one for yourself before someone else appears in your vision. a boy wearing a diving helmet moves directly upwards from where you were, also in shock in the fact that somebody else was present.

the flower was sitting off the edge of a ravine, and so a body coming flying from the depths of it was quite a sight to behold.

the two of you stare at eachother, before you begin your ascend to the surface, needing to get some air.

you notice the figure swimming up next to you, and decide it’s worth it to learn who this mysterious diver truly is. divers aren’t uncommon in fontaine for obvious reasons, so when you make it on land you didn’t expect the one to take off the helmet to be the youngest brother of the magicians.

“hello, my name is freminet”. he speaks, almost robotically. still a bit startled, you go to speak.

“nice to meet you freminet, my name is (y/n), it’s a pleasure to meet you”.

silence.

“so, um.. do you like the ocean?” the boy asks, a small blush coating his pale cheeks.

“that was the first time i’ve ever touched the waters of fontaine”. you reply rather formally, going back into rich boy mode.

“oh! cool..” he plays with his fingers.

more silence.

you two suck at talking.

from that moment forward (after the very awkward first meeting), freminet was attached to your hip. he followed you around everywhere, and his company didn’t seem to bother you whatsoever. you were one of the first people, who wasn’t one of his siblings, to tolerate his inability to hold a decent conversation, and freminet cherished that part of you,

on the other hand, you liked how freminet didn’t make you feel as though you needed to talk with him constantly to keep the newly formed friendship in tow. the two of you could sit on a bench for hours, barley conversate, however the atmosphere never differed from comfortable.

in a way, you were each others peace.

“hello again (y/n)! are you here to once more whisk my little brother away on a little date?” lyney asks, winking as he spoke. it wasn’t rare you came to collect the boy if you had something to do, and vise versa if freminet wanted some company while he worked.

you only rolled your eyes at the blonde, flicking his forehead (to which he winced slightly) before making yourself at home. by this point your migration to fontaine was close to hitting the 4 month mark, and in that time the trio of the hearth became almost family to you.

that also means waltzing into each others homes unannounced.

i’m not joking by the way, once you came home to lynette stuffing her face with a cake you bought earlier that day with lyney knocked out on your lounge. and you know what you did? ate the rest of the cake with lynette (you twos secret till this day) and markered all over lyneys face before taking a nap yourselves.

anyways, you made yourself at home before asking lynette where freminet was. she smiled to herself knowingly before directing you to the boys bedroom.

as you entered, a truly charming scene before you unfolded itself.

freminet was fast asleep on his bed, pers sitting on his nightstand. freminet had a book cuddled into his chest, his little snores filled the room.

smiling to yourself, you go to collect the book from his grasp, worried the edges might hurt him in his sleep, before something truly taken out of a romance novel happened.

instead, freminet grabbed your sleeve and yanked you down towards him. you always knew he was a clingy sleeper, having shared a DOUBLE BED with him beforehand, however freminet had a SINGLE BED.

in schock, you look at his peaceful face that was still dead asleep, before giggling to yourself.

you successfully take the book from his grasp and put it on the floor. then you look up to the ceiling. the artwork of sea creatures and hanging bubbles from his roof was truly a mesmerising sight, his entire bedroom being themed off the ocean. everything about him drawer you in more and more.

you failed to realise that the ‘more and more’ was now directly next to you, clinging onto your chest. for the 100th time this day, you heart skipped a beat as the diver cuddled himself next to you.

‘fuck it’ you say to yourself, grabbing him gently by the waist and adjusting him so he was on your chest sideways, with you flat on your back with one arm around him.

‘you know, i think i could get used to this’. you think to yourself once more.

you didn’t know at the time, but the tune you assumed to be in your head was actually outside freminet bedroom window, being strung gently by a lyre. the figure of the person could not be seen to those passing by, but if you looked close enough..

you’d notice a jade green bard smiling to himself, an instrument of pure melodies resting upon his fingertips.

#genshin #genshin x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x male reader #male reader #freminet x male reader #freminet x reader #diluc x male reader #kaeya x male reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #fontaine #genshin sibling hcs #sibling hcs #angst #genshin impact

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yauchfilms · 5 months

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big thighs, new jersey ✢ mattias samuelsson (18+)

pairing: mattias samuelsson x fem!reader (childhood friends to lovers)

warnings: pining. so much pining. fem language (reader is referred to as a woman). cursing. alcohol consumption. reader and mattias are drunk but coherent. super vague religious imagery. oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, fingering, petnames, praise, enthusiastic consent, cocky mattias but literally who is shocked, begging, so many feelings involved. ever so slight angst.

summary: y/n has been in love with mattias since they first met when they were 8, and they had matching bowl cuts. being his best friend is the hardest job she’s ever been tasked with. 16 years of pure desperation all boils down to one night on the beach.

word count: 5.2k ... jesus christ

author's note: welcome to what is essentially a year's worth of brainrot, compiled into one fic. i started this concept a year ago with some friends, and now thanks to @pldstattoos, @flashyfucker, and @puck-luck, it is now a tangible piece of literature. based ever so loosely on the song “big thighs, nj” by lowcut connie, amongst other tunes that i will share later. this man just SCREAMS childhood friends to lovers so i had to give my very best to my favorite boy ever.

it’s late again.

he’s got one arm draped over your shoulders, gesturing wildly to the rest of the group with his can of seltzer, not spilling a single drop. the old, paint-stained sheet you two share has gone cold, matching the feeling of the sand beneath it.

if he remembered you brought that old “seaside heights” sweatshirt you bought back in the heyday of the jersey shore era with you to the beach when you told him you were cold, eyes wide and hopeful, he kept it to himself.

another day spent at the beach with your friends, skitting along the sand, never too far apart from each other. you could feel him on your skin like the humidity.

it’s been like this since your parents agreed, reluctantly, that you were too old for day camps and you barely got to see mattias anymore during the school year. your mom softened when you mentioned him like she always did. since then, you’d bike to his house in the morning to find him strapping on his rollerblades. you’d make him race you for a few blocks since he insisted on cross-training in the offseason or whatever it was he said to make himself feel like he wasn’t totally slacking off. then you both slowed down, falling into a rhythm about as familiar as your own heartbeat. you’d meet up with friends, skipping through town and letting the breeze off the ocean push you one way or another. and more often than not, it ended around a fire pit — and as you got older — with cans in hands, recounting the day and making half-hearted plans for the next one.

except, now you’re older. old enough that you just finished your first ever real internship, one that led you up to the summer, now leaving you with the stress of finding a real job. but that doesn’t matter right now. what matters right now is the fact that you’re back with your friends, on the beach, recalling those stories from long ago, like how you broke your arm when you were 10 because you insisted to mattias and his older brother, luke, that you could do a cartwheel on the trampoline in your roller skates. it had been his older sister, allie, that called the ambulance, naturally.

you’re acutely aware that there are a finite number of these days and nights left. mattias is a big-time hockey player now (well, not actually, but to you, he might as well be wayne gretzky), and just like you, he can’t spend his whole life on the beach. but you really wish he could, with you, forever. knowing you have to share him with the world, that’s the part that eats at you.

you’re also acutely aware of his position on you, his hand skirting just barely along the top of your bikini top, just barely out of reach from where you really wish he’d lay his hands. you wonder if he can feel the goosebumps on your skin from the calm jersey winds.

mattias’ voice vibrates through your body, its deep, steady buzz keeping you centered. it’s not until you hear angelo let out an almost inhumane noise that triggers the group into a state of hysteria, that you feel a cold splash on your shoulder and the sound of mattias stifling a choked laugh, snapping you out of your thoughts. you glance up at mattias, whose guilt slowly etches onto his face as he drunkenly realizes what he’s done. he didn’t even spill that much, but he knows there’s a good chance you’ll overdramatize for the sake of poking fun at him.

“mattias, how could you!” you widen your eyes again and fling your wrist against your forehead, leaning your back into him as though you’re fainting. you stick to your performance as much as you can, trying to ignore how his muscular frame presses against you, his arms catching you with your quick movements. he’s leaning down over you, rolling his eyes and laughing at you. you smell the scent of mango and alcohol on his breath, his signature summer scent at this point. you could kiss him right now if you wanted; he was close enough to your face.

you want to chastise him for not being more careful, for not paying attention to his own body. but you know it weighs on him more than anyone else. there are boundaries you know not to cross.

he lifts up his shirt, just enough to use it as a makeshift towel for the drink he spilled on you. just enough to see his soft, tan skin and the ripple of his muscles that he, for some reason, chooses to hide more often than not.

“sorry, baby. lemme help you,” he half-whispers, because he’s mattias, a man who can never be truly silent. baby. a nickname he started using on you when you were 15, starting to drink when you went to the cool parents’ house, a nickname that he only really uses on you when you’ve both been under some sort of influence. he knows the effect that it has on you, and you hate that you know that he seems to do it on purpose. he’s so unfair sometimes.

he uses his free arm to keep you steady, wrapping his arm around your stomach. you can feel his heartbeat against your back, but choose not to focus on it too much. you’re practically in his lap now, being cradled in his arms as you feel the soft material of his shirt swipe down your arm, and back over your shoulder, and just along that same forbidden spot along the hem of your bikini top. it’s killing you at this point.

“all good?” he asks, causing you to be forced to look him in the eyes again.

“all good,” you squeak out, your voice barely a whisper, leaning back into him and taking your spot back in his arms.

“sorry again, dude,” he slurs, smoothing down the messy hair on top of your head, and it reminds you that you, too, have plenty of alcohol in your body, and it’s just now starting to catch up. it’s that same consumption of alcohol that would account for why no one has paid attention to either of you for the past 5 minutes, everyone caught up in telling their own drunken tales from the past.

you go to tell him that you swear it’s okay, when josh loudly —and suddenly— announces his departure from the group, saying something about his early morning tee time with his dad the next day. it was from there that lauren, bri, and anna got up and began making their way back to the house together, arm in arm, giggling about an inside joke that you had been too distracted to participate in. julian and angelo linger for a few minutes longer, arguing with each other and mattias about stuff that doesn’t matter. your eyes feel heavier still. the pair of boys eventually peel off, their yawns becoming hard to ignore. they bid their goodbyes to you and your human pillow, disappearing up the dune and into the house.

mattias nudges you, and you stir.

“do you want to head in? it’s, like, 3:45 am,” mattias asks, showing you the time on his phone. his phone background – a photo of the group, his arms, wrapped around your chest, everyone smiling like it was picture day – lights up your face, the sudden brightness causing you to squint. sure enough, the clock reads 3:42 am. you let out a sigh, twisting in his arms so you’re laying with your back to the sheet, between his thighs. he grabs your head on both sides, shaking it slightly, his fingers loosely carding through your hair. you don’t say anything, just staring up at him like he’s a god of some sort.

“what’s up? talk to me. did i do something?” he looks down at you, a sympathetic look in his eyes mixed with that damn smirk of his.

“tias,” is all you can manage to get out, your voice barely a whisper.

“yeah?” his voice suddenly going quieter than normal. this is rare, and it worries you.

“would you be mad at me if i asked you to kiss me?” you ask, suddenly feeling bold and vulnerable with your loneliness in the moonlight.

“of course i wouldn’t; am i ever mad when you ask?” he replies, cocking an eyebrow at you. and he was right. you two had made out countless times before, always in private, never escalating past light groping, always leaving you both high and dry, but too scared to ask for more. even at your big ages, you were still stuck in this routine, always running back to each other when the girl mattias tried to fly out bailed on him or the guy you met at the bar ended up giving you a weird vibe. it was normal in some way. like, of course best friends kiss each other. why wouldn’t they?

“you don’t get it, i don’t think,” you dare, the alcohol in your system giving you a strange boost of confidence.

his hands loosen around your head, ever so slowly moving down your neck, over your shoulders, and to that damned spot on your chest. your body reacts to his touch, suddenly hyper-aware of just how cold you are on the beach in nothing but a bathing suit.

“no, i think i do. let me know if i’m reading this wrong, but i think i get it,” he responds.

you adjust yourself between his legs, your head now laying on his upper thigh. you feel the strong muscles tighten underneath you, causing a chill to run down your spine. looking up at him, your eyes soften, and he leans down again, feeling his breath on your face. the scent of mango white claw still lingers, only slightly less prominent now. you squirm slightly at the feeling of him so close.

“tell me what you want,” he speaks, low and gravelly. the feeling of it in your eardrums sends a pang straight to your core.

“what do you think i want?” you tease, wondering if he truly has caught on, or if he’s telling you want you want to hear.

“you want me to fuck you, don’t you?” his words catch you off guard, even though he said exactly what you were hoping for. “you don’t think i haven't felt you squirming in my lap all night? i’m not that dumb, baby.” his voice is barely audible at this point, just enough to get his point across.

all you can do is stare up at him, suddenly unable to form a complete thought, putty in his lap. your breathing grows heavier, and he can’t help but notice.

“so, what’ll it be?”

“please, ti.”

he pulls you up into his lap and you straddle him, finding your place settled directly above the bulge in his since-dried board shorts. his hands immediately find their place along your sides, gliding gently up and down from your ribcage to your hips. his fingers linger slightly over the string of your bikini, toying with it, not daring to remove it. he leans down, connecting your lips from where they were parted dumbfoundedly in front of him, as if you had never been in that position with him before. you had, but this was different.

he moves slowly, as if wanting to take his time with you, not knowing whether or not this would be the first or the only time he would have his way with you. you open your mouth once again, a moan escaping your lips. he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, licking up into you with desperation. the roll of your hips against him elicits a loud groan from him, now, and you decide that if that was the last thing you ever heard, you would die a happy woman. you can feel his shorts growing tighter underneath your lap, causing you to roll your hips again, slower than the first time. another groan escapes his lips, causing you to stop and look him in the eyes, your hands holding his face tenderly.

“what are you so fucking loud for?” you tease, knowing that the sounds he’s making are turning you on even more, as evident by the wet spot growing on his shorts.

“sorry, i’ve just been thinking about this moment since we were 16. you don’t know how hard its been to keep my cool around you, y/n. i’ve been so good, so patient. i can’t think of anything i’ve ever wanted more than this,” he says, panting slowly, trying to control his breathing. he seems as if a huge weight has been lifted off of his chest.

you hold back the tears threatening to spill over your waterline. you feel the exact same way, just unsure of how to express it. all you can do is plant a delicate kiss to his lips, letting the moment speak for itself. his hands find that spot of your bikini top, finger rubbing lightly on the freshly tanned skin there.

“may i, please?” he almost begs, toying with the strap of the thin top, a look of desperation looking up at you with big hazel eyes.

“of course,” you whisper, a kiss planted to the tip of his nose.

long, slender fingers make their way down your shoulders to the front of your chest, as he hooks the strap around his fingers, pulling slightly. a gasp escapes his lips as your full chest is exposed, the harsh chill immediately giving you goosebumps, you reaching back to unclasp and remove the rest of it. he sees the way your body reacts to the cold, and he takes your right breast in his large hand, enveloping it in his grasp, and you immediately feel warmer. he kisses you again, more passionate than the last, massaging the flesh in his hand, deft fingers keeping rhythm against your skin.

he leans back, taking you with him, now fully laying on top of him on the sandy blanket. his hands trail to your ass, the lack of his hand on your chest not too significant due to the lack of space between your bodies now.

the kiss never breaks, your hips rolling deep into him, the feeling of his hardness underneath you growing almost unbearable.

“ti, i need you to touch me please,” you sigh, pulling away.

all he can do is look up at you, his face slack as he furiously nods his head.

his hand trails down your ass, following the hem of your bikini bottoms, his fingers tracing the fabric down to your core. he moves the fabric to the side, sliding his fingers through your folds with a loud gasp.

“oh my god, so fucking wet,” he groans into your shoulder, you kissing up and down his neck, nibbling just below his ear.

“just for you, only you,” you whisper in his ear, causing his hips to buck up at you. “slow down,” you warn, not wanting to waste this moment.

he begins rubbing down on your clit, and now it’s your turn to moan. he glides his middle finger through your wetness a few more times before slowly teasing your entrance with the pad of his finger. you let out a whimper, signaling that he can go ahead. he slides his finger into your cunt, and you immediately feel the stretch of his thick digit.

“can you take another, baby?” he asks, not necessarily waiting for permission before adding a second finger. the stretch was almost unbearable, and he could feel you react to it so viscerally while he scissored his fingers slowly in and out.

“just wait till you take my cock,” he growls, his confidence suddenly taking over.

“now, please,” you whine, desperate for what you’d dreamt about since you were a horny teenager fantasizing about his length in math class.

“what happened to patience, baby?” he questioned, fingers never losing pace in your cunt. “i wanna taste you; are you gonna let me do that, huh?”

all you could seem to muster out was a weak “mhm”; his fingers already overwhelming you.

he removes his fingers, eliciting a wince from you. turning you over in his arms, he begins kissing your face, barely avoiding your lips, down your chin, to your neck, stopping right by your ear.

“i know baby, i know, i’m gonna take such good care of you, don’t you worry, baby,” his voice almost primitive.

he returns to his path down your neck, leaving marks that you’re sure your friends will see in the morning. he takes his time, agonizingly slow, and you wonder how he hasn’t come in his shorts yet with how patient he’s being. he gets to your chest, placing chaste kisses across it, until he reaches your left breast. he takes your nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue, causing you to arch up into him. he doesn’t say anything, simply opting to hum into your skin, the sensation driving you crazy. he comes off with a pop, his hand quickly replacing his mouth as he makes his way over to the other side.

you run your fingers through his hair, the hair that he has yet to ruin with his midsummer chop. you twist the longer locks between your fingers, needing some sort of stimulation. your hands trail down his back, tugging at the collar of his t-shirt, wondering why it’s even still on in the first place, suddenly feeling overexposed.

“take this off, now,” you demand, your voice sounding stricter than you intended. he stops, leaning up on his knees to look down at the beautiful sight below him.

“yes, ma’am,” he groans, drawing out each word. if he hadn’t had you pinned down beneath him, you probably would arched up into him. he reaches behind him, yanking the top over his head in one fell swoop, exposing his soft, tan chest, the few hairs left at the top near the base of his neck curling up neatly.

“stop starin’, baby,” he teases, knowing exactly what you’re thinking, although both of you refuse to acknowledge it; something to tease him about at a different time.

he leans back down towards you, placing a soft kiss to your lips, eliciting a giggle from you, which makes him pull back, that signature goofy grin of his plastered across his face.

“you ready?” he asks, making sure you two are on the same page, although he knows he doesn't have to ask.

a soft “please” escapes your lips, reverberating off of his own, and he begins making his way down your body, starting with your neck, softly nibbling at the skin there. he trails down your shoulder, kissing the newly-formed freckles that have appeared from the past few days of sunshine, then, obviously stopping to spend a quick second alone with your tits. from there he makes it to your stomach, causing your breath to hitch sharply. he pulls back, quickly placing another peck to your lips, as if to say “it's okay”.

he regains his place at your navel, using his hands to pry your legs apart for him. despite your sudden shyness, you oblige immediately, and he lets out a guttural groan at the view of the wet spot prominently featured on your bikini bottoms.

“i need these off, now,” he demands, this time, tugging at the strings of your bikini, undoing the ties on your hips, patting the flesh of your hip to lift up for him. you oblige, and your bottoms are joined with your top in the sand.

mattias ducks back down, face fully aligned with your cunt. his finger once again finds its place between your folds, not quite doing anything, but rather scoping out just how wet you truly are. another groan escapes him, mixing with the moan that escapes you, harmonizing together into what you could only describe as a masterpiece. his groan echoes off of you, feeling the warm breath of him.

you look down at him, and he looks up to meet your eyes. while never breaking eye contact, he allows a string of spit to fall down his tongue and into your folds, making your legs twitch, embarrassingly though, because his tongue had yet to make contact.

you think he’s about to touch you again, when you suddenly feel the cooling sensation of his mouth on you, catching you off guard. his tongue circles your clit, much like how he had your nipple in his mouth earlier, causing you to arch your back into his face, the feeling of just 3 days worth of stubble stinging your thighs. he wraps his arms around your upper thighs, holding you in place.

“gotta be still baby; taste so fucking good. i love this pussy,” he coos, his warm breath once again driving you mad.

you giggle, not out of malice, but because you often found yourself alone at night, imagining him saying similar things to you, your own hand never seeming to do the trick. you wonder if he’s ever done the same, even though you’re pretty sure you know the answer.

you thought your reaction would’ve deterred him, but shockingly, it only seemed to motivate him more, picking up his speed, practically making out with your core. his nose, long and slender, hits your clit, sending shockwaves through you, your legs growing shakier with each kitten lick.

“mattias, i’m close,” your words croak out; you can barely think straight.

“you’re doin’ so good for me,” he pants, trying to stifle the moans that dare to escape his lips. “you got it, baby, so fuckin’ good.”

his words, mixed with his motions, are enough to send you over the edge. he continues his movements with his tongue on your clit, electing to tease your hole with his finger. the sensation is too much, and you try your best to keep your screams in, knowing that your entire friend group is a mere yards away, likely sleeping off their hangovers that were bound to appear.

you come, then, your legs shaking in his arms as he continues to lick through your orgasm. as your breathing becomes sporadic and heavy, he peels off, running his hands down the sides of your body to calm you down — and warm you up.

your shaking doesn’t stop, and you’re almost certain its due to the fact that the temperatures have dropped since you and him became preoccupied, but there’s no point in going inside now.

“how you feelin’, baby?” he asks, spooning you against his chest as you lay on the blanket. “you’re shivering. do you wanna go inside? we can finish this in my room, if you want,” he continues, stroking your arms tenderly in his grip.

“need you inside me, now,” you mewl, not fully able to find your words. you were gonna finish what you started.

“you sure?” he whispers, and you can feel his heart beating faster — and his shorts growing tighter — behind your back.

“tias, i can feel you. you want this as bad as i do,” you half-argue back.

“i don’t have a condom or anything; are you sure it’s fine?” he implores.

“oh my god, mattias, please just fuck me already,” you whine, begging him for more.

and with that, he’s rolling you over, pinning you to the sheet, the warmth of his body caging you in.

he begins kissing you again, his movements slow and soft, savoring the moment, all while simultaneously thrusting down onto you, trying to get some kind of friction going. you reach down between your bodies, untying the strings of the bright red shorts he’s wearing. you fidget with the waistband, and he lets out another groan.

“go for it,” he confirms, panting into your ear, and you tug them down just enough for his cock to bob free. he shuffles them off, discarding them with the previous pile of clothes, and you look down between you two. he was right, it was big. you begin calculating in your head how he was going to make it work, suddenly growing desperate to find out.

“told you,” he says, with that stupid smirk back on his face. you let out an exasperated laugh, catching his chains in between your teeth. it’s his turn to laugh now.

he pumps himself a few times, although he definitely didn't need to, adjusting himself in order to line himself up with your entrance. he glides his cock through your folds, and you arch up into him. he uses that opportunity to grab onto your back, keeping you flush with his body again.

he finally pushes in, and the stretch of him is almost mindnumbing.

“holy shit,” is all you can muster, as he bottoms out and readjusts himself to get the right angle. he begins slowly rocking in and out, not quite fully pushing all the way back in, and you can tell that he thinks you can’t take it.

you moan his name, signalling for him to pick up speed. the sounds of your bodies mixing together are most definitely echoing through the air, and you hope and pray that none of your neighbors have decided to go for an early morning jog.

he finds his rhythm, picking up your left leg and hooking it over his hip. this angle is heavenly, and you can tell it feels good for him, too, because another throaty groan escapes his lips.

“so tight, holy fuck. you like that, baby?,” he asks, planting kisses across your chest and neck, leaving plenty of marks in his wake.

“yes, oh my god, ti,” you squeak, the feeling of his thrusts interrupting your ability to speak in full sentences.

you can feel him getting closer, judging by the way his cock twitches inside you.

“where do you want me, sweetheart?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means.

“anywhere. just not in,” you reply, your paranoia suddenly taking over.

he complies, pulling out. the loss of contact makes you wince, but he leans back on his heels, jerking himself off over you. your hand reaches down between your thighs, rubbing your own clit, until he swats it away, replacing it with his own free hand. the image of the large, muscular body in front of you, doing what he’s doing, is enough to send you to your second orgasm of the night. you come, quickly, nothing but smalls gasps escaping your lips. this is enough for him, and he spills, painting your chest with his seed.

you can’t help but grab for your own breast, lightly rubbing it into your skin. mattias is still straddling you, his own breathing trying to recover.

“i wish i could take a picture right now,” he says. “this is the hottest thing i’ve seen in my life. you’re so perfect, oh my god.” he’s panting.

“why don’t you?” you ask, motioning toward his long-abandoned phone on the blanket next to you both. his eyes grow wide, as if he was certain that he had misheard you, until you quip, “seriously, go for it. something to think about on your roadies. consider it a gift,” you tease, and he scrambles to grab his phone. he turns it on, the time now reading 4:38 am. the sun is just barely starting to peak over the water, the sky now a pale purple, like something out of a national geographic magazine.

he swipes to the camera app, lining you up in the frame, your come-covered tits prominately centered in the middle, the breaking of dawn just barely visible behind you. you hear the camera click, and you let out an exasperated giggle. leaning up, you wrap your hands around his neck, and he pulls you close.

“it’s fucking freezing out here,” you complain, your shivering suddenly returning to your body.

“i know, i hid your sweatshirt under the blanket about 2 hours ago,” mattias reveals, and you smack him lightly on the back of the head. he reaches over, lifting up the corner of the sheet, revealing the old sweatshirt, shaking the sand out of it. he uses the old sheet to clean you up quickly, then helps you place the sweatshirt on, planting a sweet kiss to your lips as your head pops out the top.

“we should definitely head in now,” you say, standing up from your place in his lap. reaching for your bikini bottoms and loosely retying them to your hips, you then throw his shorts and shirt playfully against his chest, and he quickly and haphazardly put them back on. he continues to hold on to your top, and he grabs your hand as you make your way back up the dune, up to his house that is all too quiet now.

you walk through the gate, pausing at the sliding glass door, turning to face him.

“we should talk about this, later,” you say, scared of what he might say next. he looks down at you, his height suddenly overwhelming you.

“later is good, yeah. let’s just savor it for now, okay?” he suggests, and you wonder if he truly means it. your friends would surely catch on, and you have no clue how to go about that awkward conversation, even though, unbeknownst to the both of you, the group had been placing bets for years now about how long it would take for you two to break. anna was about to be $1,000 richer.

with that, you two quietly open the sliding glass door, both cringing slightly at the chime of the alarm system that notifies when doors are opened and closed. he leads you up the stairs, daring to not make any extra noise, when he stops at his bedroom door, your shared guest room that housed the 3 other sleeping girls just 2 doors down.

“stay with me, please?” he begs, and his eyes soften. he reaches up to rub his left eye with his finger, a nervous tic of his that never goes unnoticed from you.

“of course,” you whisper, and you let him lead you through to his room.

you make your way to his bed, grabbing a pair of his sweatpants that had been thrown lazily on the floor, replacing your bikini bottoms with them, the small article joining the pile next to you. he climbs up onto the bed with you, a fresh pair of boxer briefs now on his body. he pulls you close, taking in the scent of your hair — the salt of the ocean, now mixed with his cologne — and he lets out what sounds like the largest sigh of relief of his life.

you once again feel his heartbeat against your chest, this time, the steadiness, mixed with his rhythmic breathing, lulls you into sleep.

this wasn’t the first time you two had shared a bed, but it was different, this time. as you drift off, you hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time you fell asleep with him holding you like this.

#mattias samuelsson #mattias samuelsson x reader #mattias samuelsson smut #nhl x reader #nhl smut #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction

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archangeldyke-all · 11 months

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Modern au office sev has crush on reader Love you

before i answer, if you havent yet, you should check out @piscespetals they have a really sweet romantic long fic on this exact topic! it'll have you giggling like a school girl...

okay anyways! i have never worked (in an official capacity) in an office setting so forgive me if some of the terminology is wrong. (also i know nothing about IT)

men and minors dni

i think it goes like this: sevika and silco run a private security firm out of the office building you do IT work for.

the first time she noticed you, you were in silco's office cleaning out his laptop after jinx downloaded a virus while playing roblox on it. she nearly tripped over her own feet. she'd never seen you before, she'd have remembered someone like you. you were biting your lip, a little furrow in your brow as you clicked and typed away. she swears that image of you is burned in her brain to this day.

you were rarely on her floor, most of your requests coming from the customer service offices in the lower levels of the building. but after your first call up to silco's office, you mysteriously started to get more and more calls up to the 10th floor.

(it's because sevika started downloading viruses and smashing monitors in order to see you again)

you didn't notice sevika for several visits. she hid behind corners and in her office, stealing glances at you when she was sure no one was watching.

silco sees all though, and he quickly put the pieces together as to why they'd been having so many technical issues when he catches his business partner ogling you in the middle of their quarterly review. usually, sevika's even more tuned in and focused than he is, taking notes and humming along as their employees talk. but that day, she was doodling in her notebook, chin resting in her palm as her eyes tracked your movements on the other side of the glass wall.

he decided to give her a nudge in the right direction. that night he downloaded a virus to her computer and put in a request for IT support first thing the next day.

the first time you met sevika is that next morning. the request came through marked as URGENT, so you made it your first stop. you were still a little sleepy, rubbing sand from your eyes as you navigated your way to the sevika's office.

you perked up the second you saw the woman inside, furiously pressing the power button on her monitor. she was gorgeous, big muscles filling out her silk button up, thin glasses sliding down her broad nose.

you knocked on her open door frame. her eyes snapped up to yours, and in a flash she was out of her seat, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in her shirt, nervously waving you in.

sevika was shitting bricks. she'd never even been in the same room as you before, and now you were standing in her office.

"hi." you said. "i'm from the IT department."

"i know." she blurted. then, with a horrified look, "i mean i figured. not like we've met before or anything." you nodded along in confusion as you rounded sevika's desk. she backed away from you like you were contagious, cursing herself when you sat in her chair. she'd had a dream like that before, but instead of sitting in her chair, you ended up sitting on her face. with your attention on her computer, she was free to smack her forehead with her palm. "get it together." she whispered to herself.

"you say something?" you asked. she shook her head no, then fled.

after that, sevika was determined to never see you again, sure she'd ruined her chances with you. but fate has a funny way of bringing people together, and (with a bit of help from silco) her floor started having even more tecnhical problems.

you started showing up multiple times a day. she'd see you making small chat with her employees as you worked on their computers, and she'd melt over the way you'd attentively listen and nod along to boring stories about their kids and grandkids.

she'd see you in their break room pouring yourself a cup of coffee, and she'd try to pretend like she wasn't counting your sugars, just to make sure she knew how you liked it.

she'd even see you outside, eating your lunch on her designated smoking bench, admiring the same patch of wildflower she always watched while smoking. it was like she couldn't shake you.

you started noticing her too. each time you'd catch her eye, you'd smile and wave at her. she tried to pretend like it didn't make her lightheaded, nodding back at you with a casual smile, and you tried to pretend like her little smile didn't give you butterflies.

you bumped into her in the bathroom once. she had her shirt off and in her hands, scrubbing away at a stain on it under the running tap water. you tried not to gawk at her, but you're pretty sure you failed. especially since there were only two sinks and you had to brush against her naked bicep to get to the available one.

sevika started loitering around the IT department on the main floor. there's a little lobby for the whole building just outside your department where she started eating her lunches. when asked, she said she liked the couches in the lobby. (but really she was just there to see you walk in and out of the building, shooting her a shy smile each time.)

one night, you popped your tire before you got out of the building's parking lot. sevika caught you trying to change your tire on your own and offered to help. she did more than just help, she changed the tire all on her own while you tried not to drool at the sight of her grease streaked forearms.

she started to visit her smoking bench again, finally comfortable enough around you to sit beside you as you ate your lunch. the two of you started to spend your lunches together. on particularly stressful days, you'd bum a cigarette off of her. she'd laugh every time you coughed at the harsh smoke, but she never denied you. you started packing extra in your lunch box to share with her after noticing that she never brought anything to eat.

the more time you spent together, the fewer calls you'd get to her floor. you started to suspect that the two things might be correlated, but you never brought it up to her. just like you never brought up her lingering stares and stuttered words.

ironically enough, it all came to a head on valentines day. when you got to work you were surprised to find six URGENT requests from sevika's office.

"i fucked up." she said the second she saw you. "i don't know what i did but i fucked up." she turned her monitor around for you to see and you cringed. popups were crowding her screen, and in the background her files were being remotely opened and deleted. you quickly got to work typing away as sevika started pacing in her office.

"it'll be okay sev. you've got a backup for all this stuff. worst case scenario you need a new computer." you said, trying to calm her.

"worst case scenario i have to fucking resign." she muttered. you chuckled.

"what would you have to resign for?" you asked. "you didn't do this."

"not this time, not on my computer, but what if I fucking... let this one in last time somehow? and it was just laying dormant until now? it's got all our numbers and clients now... silco's going to kill me." she rambled, running her hands through her hair. you perked up in her seat, taking in her words.

"what do you mean this time?" you asked. sevika froze in her tracks. "sevika?"

"i." she paused. you waited. "i might have been downloading viruses on a few of our computers a few weeks ago to get you up here. maybe." she said. you blinked again.

"oh." you said, your focus shifting back to her monitor. it was a flashy virus, but nothing bad. you got it cleared away in a flash. "get me up here for what?" you asked, biting your lip to keep a smile from forming. you watched in amusement as sevika shrunk into herself. you kept your eyes on the monitor, but your attention was all on sevika as she shuffled in place, gathering her confidence.

"wanted to see you." she whispered. your eyes darted up to her face. she was glaring at her feet.

"why?" you asked, slowly standing from her desk. sevika huffed, kicking her shoe against the carpet beneath her. you rounded her desk, and her eyes snapped up to yours. "fixed it. not your fault. you're not gonna lose your job." you said, gesturing to her monitor. sevika gulped. "you gonna answer my question now?" you asked.

"i--"

"you gotta crush on me and were too chickenshit to be normal about it?" you butt in. her eyes widened.

"y-yeah, basically."

you grinned, then launched forward to kiss her.

the two of you made out in her office until silco knocked on the glass.

"ladies, as happy as i am to see my plan has worked out, this is still a workplace. let's keep it professional." he said.

#thank u for the request!#idk this one was hard for me! i'm getting sleepy and i know nothing about offices haha #im too tired to proofread #hope you liked it tho :)#love u too anon!!#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you

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