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#and that's when eclipse comes out to play
naffeclipse · 10 months
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I don't know when I'll ever write this, but I've had this AU in the back of my mind ever since Bendy and the Dark Revival came out, and it's best to get it out of my head before it festers and rots.
More or less, it's BatDR and the DCA smashed into one. The premise is that you are an animator at Fazbear Studios and Sun and Moon are humans who go by Cyrus and Mani respectively, employed as voice actors. (First AU with human Sun and Moon whoo! don't get attached though) Vanessa is a janitor who is a bit odd, mostly keeping to herself though sometimes you feel like she's starting at your back when you're alone.
Cyrus and Mani perform as extras in the Fazbear cartoon, adding supporting voices for side characters and miscellaneous lines. Cyrus often supplies humorous, wacky, and surreal voices to his performances. Mani tends to get villainous or spooky characters with his deeper, raspier voice. They both enjoy what they do and love that they can work together as brothers.
You can't help but notice Cyrus and Mani. You admire their skill, their passion, and their smiles, and you sometimes even work up the courage to wave at Cyrus or Mani whenever one of the brothers happens to pass by your work desk.
They inspire you—not just with their work, but with their small acts of care. You find coffee on your desk when you return from a meeting with the other animators with a little smiling sun doodled on the cup. Sometimes, Cyrus asks you to join him on a walk since it's your lunch break and you could really use some sunshine and a chance to stretch your legs. When it gets far too late and you're burning the midnight oil, Mani is somehow always there, doing a funny voice to surprise you with a little reminder that it's past your bedtime. He leaves you little treats in blue wrappers, hidden in places on your desk, among your ink and papers.
It's not a surprise that you start drawing a character for them in your rare off hours when you still have the energy to hold a pencil. The Fazbear cartoon could add a new, permanent character. A robotic jester, lanky and tall, but with two forms for the day and night, funny and sweet and mischievous. Cyrus and Mani could both voice him!
That's silly, however. Fazbear Studios does not want your chaotic and half-brained scribbles nor do you dare show the brothers what they inspired—they might hate it. You keep your little jester character tucked away, along with a small doodle of a minor, nobody, gray character who may or may not be a tag along to the main act that is the jester. Your sketches and concept art are hidden away, far from where the light of day or the shine of night will ever see.
It goes missing one day. You're upset and asking everyone who went through your desk. No one confesses. Cyrus tells you that it'll be okay, he'll help you find it. Mani suggests that you keep locks on your drawers from now on.
It's never found, not that you wanted either of them to stumble upon it. Yet, they stay late with you after everyone has gone home, looking for your precious and secretive sketchbook through the many departments of the studio.
Somewhere along the way, Cyrus disappears, promising to return with your sketchbook. You lose Mani in the audio department before, oh, there's Vanessa. She tells you to come to the basement with her—she found your notebook. You're relieved but a little put off by Vanessa and reluctantly follow her down into the dark.
You don't find your sketchbook, but you do find Cyrus slumped against the wall, blood trickling down his temple, and a strange collection of shrines to one of the studio's cartoon characters.
Before you can rush to his side, pain explodes in your skull, cracking white across your vision. You fall to the ground, dazed, as Vanessa gives a cryptic promise to return with the last sacrifice. You manage to crawl across the floor in your pitiful state to reach Cyrus and attempt to revive him, but by then, Mani is walking in. His shock overtakes him but he dodges a swipe of Vanessa's wrench and starts struggling against her. You try desperately to drag Cyrus somewhere safe as he murmurs for you to get out of here, but in the middle of Vanessa's and Mani's fight, she flips a switch and ink begins filling the room.
The black flood sweeps Cyrus away from you. Pages spill out from the inside of Vanessa's vest, dozens of sketches of your jester character. You cry out. Mani looks to you. Vanessa at last shoves Mani into the surge of onyx liquid beside Cyrus, and you watch both of them go under together. You scream their names. She turns to you, grinning.
The last thing you remember is Vanessa shoving your head into the ink.
Then it's the only thing you remember. You're vaguely aware that your jet-black hands are strange and shiny, and that you don't know where you are in this sepia-colored studio, but you know something's not right. You're missing someone, and someone else. You're scared.
You wander around for a bit until you're attacked by monsters emerging from the ink, shrieking and wailing in gluey dark forms until a wonderful and terrifying automaton arrives. He destroys such a creature about to tear you apart. He stands so tall, detailed with sharp teeth and even sharper sun rays around his large, flat face, but you think you recognize those yellow eyes—a living cartoon.
He helps you calm down and asks for your name in a loud and funny voice that rings like a bell in your mind but you can't name the tune. You don't remember your name. He doesn't remember his either. He leads you away from the harsher spaces of the studio, somewhere 'safer'. You don't know if there is anything as safe, but you feel better with him.
You're startled when after a time, in the middle of talking to this sunshine character, he melts and morphs and bubbles until a crescent moon face emerges and a new grin. You panic before a darker, raspier voice, like a cartoon villain, tells you it's alright. He's here, too. He's not sure what's going on but he, and the other 'him', and you are gonna make it out of here, somehow.
You don't have hope anywhere else but in this unique robot jester, and he seems to want you to stay close to him. So it's you two, the last sane partnership in the crazed and dripping studios, fighting off ink creatures and surviving other bizarre characters. You learn how to wield a gent pipe and the jester is strong on his own, often able to tear things apart or toss monsters off of you before they can do worse. He has claws and teeth and he uses them well.
Vanny is a lady rabbit and a constant threat. She's smart and cunning, unlike the other mostly senseless attackers. She keeps tracking the two of you down and spouting off the religious rhetoric of Inktrap, promising that your sacrifices will be well worth the pain. You had to be introduced to the cycle. The ink has corrupted you perfectly. You are part of this place. You are never leaving and will give in to Inktrap.
You and he avoid Inktrap at all costs. You've only caught glimpses of the shadowy, pitch-black beast, but that's all you need to see as you both hide and hold your breaths until the danger just barely passes by.
You start to call the daytime jester Sun, and he seems to respond to it. The nighttime joker is Moon, and he neither hates nor loves it, but he answers when you call. He has a name for you, too, or rather names. Peach, bird, thrill, calico, and sweetheart. He gets creative and goofy. You think he's being mean sometimes but he tells you he's not, he means it, and you don't know how to take that before you two have to focus on escaping this part of the studio and getting into safer areas. You protect his back and he protects yours, and together, you make this living, unending nightmare bearable. Sharing bacon soup, falling asleep in Moon's lap, and patching up any drips in Sun's inky form becomes something like a life.
It just never stops, repeating over and over. The jester deserves better than this, whatever happened to him. You know you both do.
You become determined to learn how the cycle works and how to prevent it from going on. There's a funny feeling you have that, somehow, you're going to have to go through Vanny and the Inkdemon. One day, you will get the jester and yourself free.
You need to see his and your happy ending.
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luminitewrites · 1 year
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I have IRL duties to juggle, but all I can think about is writing a modern stalker/maybe supernatural AU drabble where Y/N is an employee at a large business technically owned by three brothers but ran by one. On the surface, Sun is Y/N’s manager, Moon is a recruiter (maybe?), and Eclipse is the CEO. And Y/N can’t shake the feeling that they’re being watched constantly, to the point they feel pressured to leave their job. But when they try to quit, they find it strangely difficult to do so, and the feeling of being watched only intensifies until it reaches a breaking point.
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wizzard890 · 6 months
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okay so picture this.
You're a man named Jim Steinman. You are one of the most prolific songwriters of the 80s. In your spirit, output and essence, you are eternally popping a wheelie on a motorcycle while a hot half-naked woman clings to you and bats wheel in the sky above.
You wrote a song in which Meatloaf plays a hideously disfigured hunk who steals a nubile lady back to his crumbling manor and introduces her to the pleasures of magic lesbian group sex.
You wrote a song in which Celine Dion sings as Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights, dancing with Cathy's corpse on a beach in the moonlight; a scene which you, Jim Steinman, believe should have been in the book. (The moors of Wuthering Heights are landlocked, but you, Jim Steinman, are too fucking real to care about that.)
You wrote the song for the opening scene of the movie Streets of Fire, in which evil leatherdaddy Willem Dafoe leads his malefic motorcycle crew into a concert to abduct Diane Lane while she's wearing a skintight satin jumpsuit.
You wrote a song in which Bonnie Tyler wanders a haunted boarding school as literal demon twinks gyrate at her out of the fog.
There is no peak of goth camp that you, Jim Steinman, have not summited, no horny energy you have not tapped. They say that Alexander the Great wept when he saw there were no more worlds to conquer. But you, Jim Steinman, are not Alexander the Great. You, Jim Steinman, are better. You, Jim Steinman, have vision.
You take your most successful song, the song everyone knows, the most big-haired, white dress, gothic arches, doves flying, possessed choir boys chanting, bombastic song you have, and think: what if this, but with vampires.
And so you change the lyrics to be about death and infinity and a powerful bloodsucking lord seducing a girl who is ALL ABOUT IT, and then toss off a whole musical for this song to be the centerpiece to, and the musical is bad but it's also a weird hit that's been staged in fourteen countries and revived seven times, because nothing has ever whipped as campily, as ridiculously, as perfectly as this:
youtube
It never takes off in America. A prophet is without honor in his own land. But that doesn't matter. How could it matter? You are perhaps the most creatively self-actualized man who has ever lived. Look at that vampire. He's coming in hot and a hundred Venetian nuns gave their lives to make his ludicrously capacious lace sleeves. Look at that girl. She was born in a fog machine. She wore her best red velvet cape. She's down bad. She's singing Total Eclipse of the Heart the whole time.
You are Jim Steinman, and you have reached apotheosis.
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joelmillerisapunk · 1 month
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Divide my legs like a mathematician
Dbf!Joel x virgin!reader
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Masterlist
Wordcount: 4K
Summary: you find yourself drawn to Joel's confidence and charm, unable to resist the forbidden fruit. After sharing an intimate moment by the pool, you're left feeling both guilty and exhilarated, eager for more.
Warnings: 18+, virginity loss, reader has first kiss, age gap (reader is early 20's and Joel is however old you need him to be.) Reader has hair and breasts, and wears a bikini, unprotected p in v, m&f oral receiving, fingering, Joel comes twice. Joel, being a typical middle-aged man, saying "you know.."
Notes: please do not read if this kind of dynamic or situation is offputting or something you do not like or enjoy or object to. Please be responsible for yourself and your fic reading. Love you bye 💝 and don't ask about the title unless you wanna hear and see something weird 😂
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The sun beats down relentlessly, its fiery rays reflecting off the shimmering surface of the pool. You've sought refuge by its side, lying on a vibrant, floral towel, your swimsuit clinging to your skin. Your eyes flutter closed, and you breathe in the scent of chlorine and sunscreen, letting the warmth of the day lull you into a state of peaceful relaxation.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a shadow eclipsing the sun. You squint up, the brightness giving way to the familiar face of Joel Miller, your dad's old buddy. The one you haven't seen in a few years.
His salt-and-pepper hair, flecked with silver, is styled in a casual yet purposeful way. His muscular build is evident through his t-shirt and swim trunks. Joel's eyes, a stunning shade of chocolate brown, crinkle at the corners as he turns his attention to you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, well, who do we have here?" he asks, his gaze sweeping over your body in a way that makes you feel a bit nervous.
You shield your eyes from the sun with your hand before you reply, "Hey Joel, my dad's not here. He had to run some errands."
Joel chuckles, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, good thing you're here to keep me company while I wait for him.”
You roll your eyes, but you can't help the heat that rises to your face. "I'm not here to entertain you," you say, trying to sound stern.
Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You know you've sure grown up since I last saw ya, more beautiful than ever."
You can't help but feel a little flattered by his words, even if you try to hide it. You've always had a bit of a crush on Joel, but you know that he's off-limits, the forbidden fruit. He's your dad's friend, and he's much older than you. You've never even had a boyfriend, but there's something about him that you find irresistible. Maybe it's his confidence, or his sense of humor, or the way he makes you feel when he looks at you. Whatever it is, you can't help but be drawn to him.
You try to play it cool. "Oh, please, you're just saying that because you feel awkward being alone with me and you're trying to be nice."
"Maybe, maybe not," he admits. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're beautiful."
You feel your heart flutter at the way the word rolls off his tongue, but you try to hide your reaction. "Prove it," you say, challenging him.
Joel raises an eyebrow, chuckling. "Prove it?" he repeats. "How do you propose I do that?"
You shrug, trying to act nonchalant. "I dunno, race me to the other side of the pool, maybe?"
Joel's laughter rings out, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief as he accepts the challenge. "You're on.” With a swift and fluid motion, he peels off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and arms. The garment lands carelessly on a nearby chair, but you barely notice as your gaze follows the contours of his physique. You notice how broad he is and how beautiful in return you think he is.
Joel dives into the pool, cutting through the water with surprising grace and agility. The splash startles you, breaking your reverie, and you take a deep breath diving into the pool swimming as fast as you can towards the other side of the pool.
The cool water feels refreshing against your skin, but you're determined to win the race. You swim with all your might, your legs kicking furiously behind you. But despite your best efforts, Joel reaches the other side just before you do.
You come up for air, panting slightly, and Joel grins at you. "I win."
You stick your tongue out at him. "Fine, you win," you concede. "But that doesn't mean you're right about me being beautiful."
Joel's expression softens, and he looks at you with a seriousness that takes you by surprise. "You know darlin, I'm not just sayin' it to flatter you," he says as he gets out of the pool and then helps you out. "I've always thought you were beautiful. But now, you're all grown up, and I can't help but notice the way you move, the way you challenge me, it's all so - intoxicating."
His words make you feel self-conscious, but also excited. You've never had anyone talk to you like this before, and it's both scary and thrilling.
Joel notices your reaction and takes a step closer to you. "I know this is unexpected, and maybe even a little inappropriate," he says. "But, I can't help the way I feel. And I think you feel it too, don'tcha darlin?”
"I-I don't know," you stammer.
Joel's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face. "It's okay, take your time. I'm not goin’ anywhere." You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You've never felt this way before, and you're not sure what to do. "It's okay," he repeats. "I know it’s a lot to take in.” Joel moves so his body mere inches away from yours. "You ever done anythin' before, you got a boyfriend?”
You pause, feeling the air get tense. You can't believe how abrupt he is to just ask like this. You shake your head, feeling a bit ashamed you've never even kissed a boy before, let alone have a boyfriend.
Joel can see the uncertainty in your eyes, but he also sees curiosity and desire. He takes a deep breath, and his eyes never leave yours. "You know, I can teach you how to please a man, how to be pleasured. I wanna make sure that when you do decide to be with someone, you're not so inexperienced."
Your eyes flitter around, never fully meeting Joel's gaze. "I dunno I've never done anything like this before," you admit.
Joel's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently take your hand. "I know babygirl," he says. "And I'm not going to push you into anything. But I want you to know that I'm here for you, if you want me to be."
You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You know that what Joel is suggesting is wrong, but you can't help feeling like a snake, trying to convince yourself to take a bite of the juiciest looking apple you’ve ever seen. He's always been so helpful, and now that he's offering to show you the ways of intimacy, you can't help but be tempted. You really don't want to be so inexperienced when it's your real first time. "I want you to teach me Joel," you whisper.
Joel's face lights up, "I promise to make this a learning experience for you, somethin’ you'll never forget."
He takes your hand and leads you to a secluded spot by the pool, sits down on the grass, and pulls you down next to him. "First things first, let's start with the basics. You ever touch yourself?"
You shake your head, feeling yourself fill with embarrassment.
"S'okay," he says. "This is all new to you. Just do what I do, okay?"
He takes your hand and guides it to your bottoms, helping you to slip your fingers under the fabric. You can feel the heat radiating from your core, and you gasp as Joel's and your fingers brush against your clit.
"Just relax," he says, his voice soothing. "S’all about pleasure."
As you continue to touch yourself, you can feel something building inside of you. It's a strange, unfamiliar sensation, but it's also incredibly pleasurable. You moan softly as Joel continues to guide your hand, his lips close to your ear.
"That's it," he murmurs, his lips close to your ear. "Just relax and enjoy the sensation." You can feel the heat radiating from your core, and you can feel your body tensing as you get closer and closer to your first orgasm. Joel can sense this too, and he places a hand on your belly, feeling each jolt and tremor as it passes through you.
"Just let go, baby," he whispers. "I've got you. You're safe."
But suddenly, you pull your hand away, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
"I can't," you say, your voice shaking. "It feels too weird."
Joel can see the look of fear and uncertainty in your eyes, and he pulls you against his chest.
"Yes, you can, I promise," he says, his voice soothing and reassuring. "Just let yourself feel the pleasure. Let me help you, baby. Tell me what you're feeling, baby," he says, his voice gentle and coaxing. "What does it feel like when I touch you like this?" He starts rubbing circles on your clit again.
You take a deep breath, trying to put your feelings into words. "It feels...good," you say, your voice hesitant. "But it's also scary. I've never done this before."
"I know, baby," Joel coos. "But there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm here with you, and I'll never let anything bad happen to you."
Joel can see that you need a different approach, something that will help you to relax and let go of your inhibitions.
He pulls away from you, his eyes meeting yours. "Let's try something a little different," he says with a gentle voice. Before you can protest, Joel is moving down your body, his lips pressing gentle kisses against your skin. When he reaches your thighs he gently guides them further apart, leaving kisses all the way until he reaches your swimsuit bottoms, he pulls them to the side, exposing your clit. You gasp as you feel his tongue flick against your clit, the sensation almost too much to bear.
"Just relax," Joel murmurs, his voice soothing. "Let me show you how good this can feel."
He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers slipping inside of you to stroke your G-spot. You can feel pleasure building inside of you, more intense than anything you've ever felt before.
"Yes, just like that," Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let go, babygirl. Let yourself feel it."
And suddenly, you do. The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, so intense that you can barely breathe. You cry out whatever vowels and constants your brain can, and your body shakes with the force of it. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers continuing to work their magic. Another orgasm builds inside of you, even more intense than the first. You can feel yourself on the edge, your body trembling with pleasure.
"Come on, babygirl, come again, such a good girl."
And you do. This orgasm tears through you like a lightning bolt, so intense that you see stars behind your closed eyes.
Finally, the orgasm subsides, and you collapse back onto the grass, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Joel moves beside you, his arms wrapped around you as he holds you close to his body.
"How do you feel?" he murmurs, his lips close to your ear.
You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I feel...amazing," you say, quietly.
Joel smiles, his eyes meeting yours. "I'm glad," he says. "That's exactly how I wanted you to feel." Joel's expression is gentle as he looks at you, gauging your reaction. He then reaches down and slowly starts to undo the drawstring of his swim trunks. "You ever seen a cock before?"
You shake your head, feeling a mix of curiosity and nervousness. Joel seems to sense your apprehension, and he takes his time as he pulls down his swim trunks, revealing his erect length. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight before you, the way the sunlight dances off his smooth, taut skin, the way the veins protrude just slightly, creating a roadmap. Your gaze drifts down to the base, where the same salt and peppered hair that graces his head dusts his pelvis. Joel gives you a moment to take it all in before speaking again, his voice barely above a whisper, "Do you wanna touch it?" The question hangs in the air.
You nod, feeling a surge of excitement and curiosity. Joel's hand finds yours, guiding it towards his stiffening cock. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. As you wrap your fingers around his shaft, you marvel at the weight and firmness of it in your hand.
"Mmm, that feels so good," Joel moans, his eyes fluttering closed as he relaxes into your touch.
Encouraged by his reaction, you begin to explore his cock more fully. You stroke your hand up and down its length, feeling it twitch and throb beneath your fingertips. Joel helps guide your movements, his hand covering yours as he shows you the rhythm he likes best.
"Tighten your grip a little... yeah, just like that," he murmurs, his breath hitching as you increase the pressure. Joel's moans become louder and more frequent, and you can feel him grow even harder in your hand. It takes no time at all for Joel to reach his peak.
"Fuck baby, I'm gonna come," Joel gasps, his hips thrusting forward.
You pull your hand away, unsure of what to do. Joel opens his eyes and looks at you. You look like a deer in headlights, and the sight almost makes him come without help. "It's okay, baby," he says with a gentle voice. "You don't have to do anything. Just wanted to give you an idea of what it feels like, what it looks like, what it tastes like," he says softly, "But, if you're curious, I can show you how to pleasure a man with your mouth."
You nod, your curiosity getting the better of you. "I want to, I wanna learn."
Joel smiles, his eyes softening. "Okay, just remember to take it slow. There's no rush."
Joel takes your hand and guides it down to his cock, which is already rock-hard and pulsing with desire. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and you're eager to explore him further. With a gentle nudge, he encourages you to take him into your mouth.
At first, you're hesitant. You've never done this before, and you're not sure what to do. But Joel is patient and kind, gently stroking your hair and murmuring words of encouragement.
"That's it, baby," he whispers. "Just relax and take your time. Mmm, yeah, just like that."
Emboldened by his words, you begin to explore him more fully. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. Joel lets out a low moan of pleasure, and you can feel his hips bucking up towards you.
Encouraged you take him deeper into your mouth. You suck harder, your cheeks hollowing out as you work him over. Joel's moans grow louder and more frequent. Suddenly, he grabs a handful of your hair, guiding your head up and down in a steady rhythm.
"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna come," he gasps, his voice tight with pleasure.
You pull back, letting his cock slip out of your mouth with a wet pop. Joel opens his eyes and looks at you, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Keep goin’ like you were, just swallow if you can, it's natural."
Joel's eyes flutter closed as he helps guide your head back down to his cock, savoring the feeling of him growing hard in your mouth once more. You wrap your lips around him, taking him in slowly, and begin to move your head in a gentle rhythm. Joel's breathing grows heavy as he lets out a low moan, his fingers finding their way into your hair.
You can feel him tensing up, and then, with a shudder, he comes, filling your mouth with warmth. The taste is strange and unfamiliar, but you swallow, determined to please him. You pull your mouth away from him quickly, probably a little too quickly. "Joel," you say, your voice hesitant as you look over at him, catching his breath. "Can we... do it?"
Joel looks at you, his expression serious. "Do what, babygirl?" he asks, puffing out a response through caught breathes even though he knows what you're asking.
"You know...have sex," you whisper.
Joel's eyes widen, and he looks at you with a mix of surprise and desire. "Baby, I just came," he says, his voice gentle. "Let me catch my breath for a bit, and then we can figure somethin' out."
Joel's eyes meet yours, and he can see the slight hint of disappointment in them. But he understands, and he takes your face gently in his hands, leaning in close so that his mouth is almost touching yours. "Don't worry, babygirl," he says, his voice soft and soothing. "I'll make it worth your while." You can feel your heart flutter at his words, and you can't help but smile. Joel's breathing begins to return to normal, and he pulls back slightly, looking at you with a serious expression. "I think I have a couple of ideas," he says. "But, it's gonna take some effort on both our parts."
You nod, eager to please him and experience more of the pleasure he's shown you.
Joel takes a deep breath, looking at you with a serious expression. "I want you to take your top off."
You look at him in surprise, your hands instinctively going to cover your chest. "What? Why?" You ask, your voice hesitant.
Joel reaches out to take your hands in his, his eyes meeting yours. "Because it's a natural part of a woman's body, and it's one of the things that turns me on the most," he explains. "And I want to be able to pleasure you fully, without any barriers between us."
You bite your lower lip, you've never been naked in front of anyone before, and the thought of doing so with Joel is both terrifying and thrilling. But you trust him, and you want to please him. Taking a deep breath, you nod your head, signaling your agreement. Joel's eyes softened as he smiled, his hands moving to gently guide you onto his lap. You feel a flutter in your stomach as you straddle him, your thighs brushing against his. His fingers deftly undo the knot that holds your bikini top in place, and the fabric falls away, leaving your breasts exposed to the warm summer air. You feel a shiver run down your spine, your nipples hardening in response to the exposure.
Joel's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of your bare chest, his breath hitching in his throat.
"Mmm, so perfect baby.” Before you can respond, Joel leans in, his mouth capturing one of your nipples. You gasp at the sensation, your hands instinctively going to his hair as he sucks and licks at your breast. Joel's hands come up to cup your other breast, his fingers teasing your nipple. You had never felt anything like this before, the sensation of his mouth on your breast, his hands caressing your body. It's intoxicating.
Joel's hands start to wander down your body, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. He reaches your bikini bottoms, and you can feel him tugging at the fabric. "Lift up for me, baby,"
You do as he asks, lifting your hips off the ground as he pulls your bikini bottoms down your legs. You're completely naked now, exposed to Joel's gaze, but instead of feeling embarrassed, you feel a thrill run through your body. Joel's eyes are dark with desire as he takes in the sight of your bare body.
"Fuck, babygirl, you are so damn delicious," his hands reach out to touch you. He runs his fingers along your inner thighs, teasing you. "Spread your legs for me, baby, nice and wide," he says, his voice low and commanding.
You comply, spreading your legs apart.
He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "You have no idea how fucking sexy you are, do you? I've been dreaming about this for years, imagining what it would be like to touch you, to taste you."
You gasp as Joel's hand slips between your legs, his fingers finding your clit. "You're so wet," he growls, his fingers circling your clit in slow, deliberate movements. "I can feel how much you want me, how much you need me. You think you're ready, baby?"
You nod, feeling a surge of excitement and nervousness. Joel moves between your legs, his body hovering over yours. He looks into your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt or hesitation.
"If you want to stop at any time, just tell me," he says. "I won't be upset."
You nod and shyly say, “I'm ready.”
Joel positions himself at your entrance, his tip pressing gently against your opening. He looks into your eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort or fear. "Just breathe, babygirl," his voice soothes you a bit. "It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it'll feel good real soon."
You nod, taking a deep breath as Joel starts to push inside of you. You feel a sharp pain as he breaks through your barrier, and you can't help but gasp at the sensation. “Ah, Joel, it hurts," you whimper, your eyes watering.
Joel curses under his breath, his eyes filled with concern. "I'm sorry, babygirl," he says, his voice gentle. "I know, I know, I gotcha.” He continues to move slowly, giving your body time to adjust to the intrusion. You can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, and you can't help but wince at the discomfort. Joel leans down, almost kissing you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. "It's okay, babygirl," he murmurs. "Just relax and let me take care of you."
As he continues to move, the pain starts to fade, replaced by a strange, unfamiliar sensation. It's not entirely unpleasant, but it's not exactly comfortable either. Joel seems to sense your confusion, and he starts to move his hips in a slow, circular motion. "Feel that, babygirl?" he touches your lower belly where you can feel his cock hitting. "That's your body gettin’ used to me. It's gonna feel good soon, I promise."
And he's right. As he continues to move, the sensation begins to shift, becoming something more pleasurable. You can feel yourself getting wetter, your body responding to Joel's movements. "That's it, babygirl," Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let yourself feel it. Let yourself feel me."
He starts to move faster, his hips thrusting harder against yours. You think you can feel yourself getting closer to another orgasm and Joel can sense it too. "You like that, babygirl? You like feeling my cock inside of you? You like feeling me stretch you open, fill you up?"
You nod, a small whimper coming from the back of your throat.
"Good," he breathes, pushing his hips deeper into yours, the friction making him groan. "Tell me when you're gonna come, sweetheart."
You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "I-I'm gonna come," you gasp.
Joel's eyes widen, and he nods, his hips thrusting harder against yours. "Come for me, babygirl," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "Come on my cock."
The orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, so powerful that it feels like every nerve in your body is firing at once. You can't help but cry out, a loud, primal sound that probably alerts everyone in close proximity to what's happening. Your body convulses with pleasure, every muscle tensing and then releasing as waves of ecstasy wash over you.
Joel's thrusts become more erratic, his hips slamming against yours with a fierce urgency as he chases his own release. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps, each one hot and moist against your ear. "Fuck, babygirl," he groans. "I'm so close. I'm gonna come too." You can feel him throbbing inside of you, each pulse of his cock sending another shiver of pleasure through your body. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside of you, wanting to feel every inch of him as he fills you up with his warmth.
And then he's there, his body tensing as he reaches his own peak. "Fuck, babygirl," he groans. "Oh fuck!" He collapses on top of you, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.
You can feel his heart pounding against your chest. For a moment, neither of you say anything, both of you too caught up in the afterglow of what just happened.
Finally, Joel lifts his head, looking down at you with a mixture of awe and desire. "Fuck, babygirl," he murmurs, his voice still low and husky. "That was...incredible."
You wrap your arms around him, feeling a surge of affection and gratitude. "Thank you," you whisper into his ear as you instinctively start stroking his hair.
Joel looks up at you, "What are you thankin’ me for?"
You feel a mix of embarrassment and shyness. "For showing me how good it can feel."
Joel smiles. "You're welcome, baby girl. I'm glad I could be the one to show you." He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a soft, gentle kiss. You can feel yourself getting lost in the moment, in the feeling of Joel's lips on yours, in the warmth of his body pressed against yours.
Your first kiss.
But all too soon, the bliss comes to an end. Joel pulls away, his eyes meeting yours. "I better get goin'," he says. "Your dad will be back soon."
You nod, feeling a surge of disappointment. "Okay," you say kinda pouty.
Joel smirks and lifts your chin in his hand so you're looking at him. "Don't look so sad, babygirl," he says, his voice gentle. "This is just the beginning. I promise to show you so much more."
With that, he gives you a quick kiss on the forehead and he gets up, putting his swim trunks back on. You watch as he walks away, your heart heavy in your chest. You know that what just happened was wrong, that it's not something that should have happened. But you can't help the way you feel, the way your body responds to Joel's touch. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You know that you should feel guilty, that you should be ashamed of what just happened. But all you can feel is a sense of excitement, of anticipation. You know that this is just the beginning.
And you can't wait.
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strongheartneteyam · 6 months
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We are just animals.
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader
CW: "light" non con, dubious consent, voyeurism, neteyam jerking off to reader touching herself, descriptions of masturbation, kinda mean/dark neteyam, belly bulge, rough sex, semi public sex, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, size kink, size difference, exophilia, dominant neteyam, sub reader, primal play [hunter/prey] (if you squint), doggy position
Synopsis: Neteyam is on his rut period and he's struggling to deal with the fact that masturbation doesn't really seem to help anymore when it comes to easing his strong urges. But when he finds a human girl alone in the middle of the forest, that seems to be the solution he was desperately longing for.
Slightly proofread. I'm running on 4 hours of sleep, a cup of strong coffee with no sugar and only one slice of whole grain bread rn (and I'm in a hurry to go out lol) so be gentle with me 🥲☕ love you guys <3
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Neteyam had been extremely frustrated and moody lately. He had been aloof and impatient with people, even with his family, these past days, which is so not like him. But the Omatikaya people tried to understand and cut him some slack since they knew he was going through his rut and he didn't exactly have a partner to help him ease that itch right then.
Neteyam tossed back and fourth on his mat at eclipse and he couldn't get restful nights of sleep as he would wake up in the middle of the dark hours with such a strong urge to mate that he felt like it would drive him insane. It was so incredibly troubling. He found no other way to deal with it than being the quietest he could be while stroking his erect cock, desperately trying to get some release. But Eywa... it was never enough. No. What he needed was to cum inside a good inviting cunt.
One day Neteyam was walking through the forest, looking for good branches so he could gather an enough amount of them to light up the bonfire for that day's communal meal time at eclipse.
He was in a place in the forest that was far enough of the Omatikaya huts for it to be somehow private, as private as a forest could be. There was always a risk of people being around, of course.
He almost couldn't believe his eyes when he caught you pleasuring yourself as you laid on the grass with your eyes closed, your small delicate human fingers rubbing your wet clit, his nostrils getting filled with the delicious scent of your juices (that he just knew tasted delicious too). Neteyam knew he had found the girl that would help him get some release from his madness inducing urges that were bothering him all the time in this rut.
You were just the perfect prey. So small, fragile and soft. His cock got hard as a rock just thinking about sinking himself deep inside your ekxìn (tight) pussy.
So, Neteyam hid behind a tree and uncovered his cock, pushing his loincloth to the side as quickly as he possibly could as he did not want to spend one more second watching that delicious scene that was you shoving your small fingers inside of your tiny pussy without pleasuring himself to it.
You were so lost in your pleasure haze that you didn't even think someone could be watching you.
But then, suddenly, you stopped what you were doing when you heard a muffled moan of pleasure.
Fuck! Was someone around you?! It couldn't be! But, damn, you knew it was risky to masturbate in the middle of the forest. You just thought you could get lucky and not be seen. Somehow... Yeah. That sounded stupid and you knew it.
You almost panicked when you realized Neteyam was looking at you with a predatory look in his golden eyes, behind a tree near where you were. When you looked down and realized he was touching himself while gazing at you, your mouth fell slightly open.
But your startled face only seemed to make the desire inside him grow even stronger.
Neteyam saw the way your eyes betrayed your shyness just as the way your blood rushed to your cheeks, while you closed your legs fast, pressing your sweet soft thighs against one another but he also had heard from some friends how you had a crazy crush on him. So, he took that as a good sign, something that only meant you were just embarassed you got caught touching yourself and not that you didn't want him too.
"Don't let me interrupt you. It's beautiful. I wanna keep watching you, paskalin." (sweet berry)
"What-" It was hard to talk as you were nervous as hell "What are you doing here?"
"Nothing more natural than an Omatikaya in the forest" He smirked "What are you doing here, sevin tawtute?" (pretty human)
You shut your mouth at that. You couldn't think of a good enough answer.
"You saw me..." your cheeks burned with embarrassment "I was touching myself, OK? Are you gonna judge me? You were doing the same. And looking at me while doing it. You sure are bold." You tried to be confident and overpower him with your argument but it was obviously failing
"Who told you to be touching your pretty pussy in the middle of the forest? Didn't you think someone could catch you?" He said in a mean tone but his na'vi accent only got your already soaked pussy even wetter. The way he rolled the "L" letter... oh my Eywa...
"Of course I thought it could happen. But I hoped no one would. I certainly did not expect you to be creeping around and jerking off while watching me. Pervert." You snapped back
"Cut the crap. I don't need any complications right now, tawtute. I know you have a crush on me and all I want is to cum inside of you. So, tell me. Do you want me? Yes or no. It's simple." Neteyam said impatiently
"What? I don't know what you're talking about!" You tried to hide your feelings but it was useless
Neteyam walked to you, took you with ease from the grass you were laying on and put you over his shoulder. You shaked your legs incessantly in protest.
"What the fuck are you doing?! Let me go, now, Neteyam! Arghhh!" Your shouting only sounded funny to his na'vi ears
Neteyam pressed your body against the nearest large Pandoran tree in front of you two and you could feel his big bulge pressing against your ass as he was lifting you with his blue hands under your arms, your legs hanging in the air, leaving you with the feeling of being helpless at the time.
"I'm gonna say it again and for the last time. Yes or no?"
Your heart beat fast inside your chest as you moved your head back and fourth slightly, telling him that, yes, you did want him to fuck you.
"Yes... Yes, damn it... I want you." You confessed
"Good. That's what I wanted to hear." He stated
Neteyam put you down on the ground again. You stood up but your legs felt weak with anticipation and some fear.
He undid the way the long string of his loincloth was wrapped around his tail to get rid of that piece of clothing that was getting on his way and making it harder for him to just fuck you dumb already.
You just couldn't stop staring at his cock, the way it was huge and all covered in his precum because of the way he had been stroking it while watching you. To know Neteyam's cock was glistening with precum like that because of you made a tight knot form in the lower part of your belly.
"Now, on your knees." He ordered
You swiftly obeyed him. Neteyam had you around his finger. You had dreamed about what it would feel like to have him inside of you for so long. You had always lusted over him when you saw his muscles on display when he practiced his archery on the Omatikaya mainland. But it seemed like he had never noticed you like that before. You thought that perhaps you just didn't spark any interest in him. But maybe you were wrong.
"Now this dripping tawtute pussy is mine! Let me finish the job." Neteyam stated "You'll feel so full with this na'vi cock. You'll see." He smirked in a perverted way
Neteyam walked until he got behind you, got on his knees too and forced you forward just so you would be on all fours for him.
He pressed his swollen tip against your entrance and you whimpered at how good just that felt. You couldn't wait for what was coming.
When you least expected it, he pushed his cock in a quick motion inside of you, burying all of its length inside of you. As your pussy was dripping wet, it wasn't as hard to fit as you thought it would be. You let out a cry of sheer, strong pleasure.
Neteyam covered your mouth with his huge blue hand to prevent you from being too loud but your muffled moans still echoed slightly around the both of you as he pushed his hard big cock roughly inside of your soaked pussy, his hips crashing against your butt and making your soft flesh jiggle which only turned him on even more. He just thought human girls were so hot because of how soft and delicate they were. He was surely loving to squeeze your soft stomach while his hand rested right above your belly button, where the huge bulge his cock was causing on you could be seen.
"Great Mother, your pussy feels too fucking good, yawntutsyìp..." (darling)
Neteyam kept fucking you as deeply as he could, hurting the tip of your womb just enough to make you feel a masochist type of pleasure burning inside of you. At this pace, you suspected you were gonna cream around his cock soon enough.
What if someone came and saw the both of you fucking like that? Oh, God...
But you had to admit that - despite of how wrong that felt - if anything, the being wrong part of it only turned you on more.
"Gonna cum loads inside this ekxìn pussy, tawtute. Did you know I'm on my rut period? I'm needing to release all this cum trapped inside my balls somewhere, baby. They're so heavy." Neteyam whispered in your ear. His words were so dirty but so enticing.
Many hard delicious thrusts later you felt his thick load of cum filling you up to the brim. The feeling was amazing.
After he composed himself and got his breath back again, he said:
"You are a perfect cum slut. You're mine now, tawtute. My mate."
Taglist:
@yeosxxx
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casualhedonists · 5 months
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✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter three)
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pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader
chapter: 3/? (MASTERLIST)
warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, power play, oral sex, thigh riding, degradation, dirty talk, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)
i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.
taglist: if you’d like to be tagged, leave a comment on the masterlist post and i’ll add you! 💌
a/n: thank you for your patience and condolences / kind messages over the past week i’ve been awol. i’m very happy to be back. very long, filthy and much awaited chapter ahead, so strap in and hope you enjoy the ride.
in the words of miss zegler herself: oh we are so back.
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You weren’t sure how long he stared at you, smiling with a fire in his eyes that rivalled yours until it was eclipsed. A third and final time, you found yourself speechless, dumbstruck, and one final time, much like the others, you took a few shaky steps backwards, before turning and fleeing.
He knew. He’d known this whole time. How long had he been planning this? Exactly how much of this had been an act, with Snow puppeteering you as you slowly lost your mind?
You almost felt pity for the girl, because she was played just like you were. She was a mere pawn in his game of chess, where he’d toyed with you until you were backed into a corner, unable to make a move.
Well, not this time. Now you knew what he was playing, you were ready to up your game. This wouldn’t be another stalemate; you wanted to win, and you had a few ideas of where to start.
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You were already up and dressed when you heard a knock at your door the next morning.
Dreading the worst – despite the fact that Snow had never actually been in your room before, but the rules had changed now and you weren’t sure quite how much – you paused for a second to prepare yourself, praying that he wouldn’t be there, ready to put a stop to your plans before they’d even started.
You fell lucky. It was one of Snow’s footmen, George.
“Good morning, ma’am. I, um.” He swallowed, not meeting your eye. “I have a message from Master Snow. He’d like for you to meet him for breakfast in a half hour, if you will. He says you have something… quite important to discuss.”
Typical Snow. Never liked to get his hands dirty. Too proud to knock at your door himself.
You considered.
“George, could you please tell Coriolanus that if I’ve already eaten, and that I’ll come to him when I see fit. If he isn’t satisfied,” you added, for his sake, as you knew Snow wasn’t above killing the messenger, “Say I have an urgent matter to tend to, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
You grew a lump in your throat from your refusal, fearing the consequences. But you’d set your plan into motion now and there was no going back. Once George had been sent on his way, you snuck down the stairs on the far end of the building and slipped out the door through the servants’ quarters, where you knew Snow wouldn’t see you leave. The one upside to the last few weeks was that you’d learned how to sneak around the manor unnoticed. You were certain there were at least three hallways he’d had never even set foot in.
You had Lucille call Henry – Snow’s driver – in advance so you could leave right away.
“Where are we going, ma’am?” He glanced at you over his shoulder as you slid into the black town car.
“Head into the city. I’ll explain on the way.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
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Henry took some convincing – and some light bribing – to finally cave and tell you what and where this gentleman’s club was. Of course, it was a risk, a roll of the dice to go there without concrete proof, but you knew Snow. You knew his little neuroses and hang-ups, and he was paranoid; in all senses, it would seem, except when it came to you. If he’d been frequenting this club for some time – some years, according to Henry – and trusted their discretion, then you highly doubted he’d play Russian roulette and pick somewhere else.
You were dropped off outside, and sent Henry to the tailor to pick up some of Snow’s things; an excuse for the outing, but a part of your plan too. He was hesitant to leave you alone in such a place, but you insisted you knew exactly how to handle yourself, and so he gave in.
You’d deliberately dressed down for what you were about to do, worn your old coat and let your hair down with a hood pulled over it. It being daytime, the place was closed for business, but you knocked on the front door expectantly.
You waited. Went over the plan, and knocked again.
This time, the door opened and a burly man now stood between you and the inside of the brothel. Your curiosity made peek over his shoulder before he cleared his throat.
“Can I help you, miss?”
“Yes. My name is Margaret, sir, I’m a maid at the, uh,” You dropped your voice to a low whisper, “Snow household. I have a message for the owner of this establishment, from my master. Is he here?”
The man cleared his throat and glanced around the nearly empty street, then beckoned you in quickly.
“Anything for Mr Snow, miss. Right this way.”
There was your proof.
The empty club was a classy one, you had to give Snow that. The bar caught your eye, silver panels lining the wall behind it in an otherwise jet-black glossy room, with dark red couches and shiny tables, booths, single chairs, a stage with shiny metal poles, and a few cordoned-off alcoves.
You took it all in, certain you’d be able to appreciate the aesthetics of it more if it wasn’t for the seething rage inside you. You were stopped at a closed door near the back, and the burly man knocked.
“Yeah.” Came a voice from inside.
“All yours. He’ll take care of you.” Your guide stepped away. You pushed at the door.
A dark-haired man sat facing a desk, poring over paperwork. He didn’t look up.
“If you’re here for a job, sweetie, it’s Tuesday after 11.”
This incensed you.
“I’m not here for work. This is official business. I was told you take care of… special clients.”
He spun around, frowning.
“I’m listening.”
“I have a message from President Snow. He has a series of requests to be carried out with no delay.”
“Ah, yes. Mr Snow. I see. And you are to him?” He prompted.
“Just a maid from the household. He sent me as a messenger.”
“Excellent. Well in that case, of course, miss. How can I be of service?”
You took a breath, hoping desperately that he didn’t see right through you.
“Firstly, the shoes your girl wore.”
“What would he like with them?” He asked.
“He’d like to keep them. He’s willing to pay, and he’s not up for a price negotiation. This should cover them.” You slipped a bill across the table, and he nodded. You learned long ago that money causes loose lips, and this man was no exception.
“Of course,” he obliged, “They’re in the lockers through that door there. I’ll bring them to you. We ordered them in specially for Veronica, he made a point for her to wear them on the first floor. Usually our girls get instructions to sneak through clients’ houses quietly, but we handle every request as thoroughly as possible.” He chuckled.
That fucker. He really had planned it all out to get in your head.
“Was there anything else I can do for you, miss?”
You swallowed thickly.
Here goes.  
“Yes, actually. As of today, he’ll no longer be needing your services, or her services. He’d like to terminate your contract, and he doesn’t wish to see her again. Ever.”
The owner blinked. His mouth moved, as if he was about to say something, but then it closed again.
“But, um,” he stammered, “It’s only been three weeks. Veronica is our best girl, and he’s her top client. She carried out his orders to the absolute best of her ability, I can assure you. Are you sure those were his words?”
You sighed.
“She’s getting off lucky with a dismissal. Take it as a warning, sir. President Snow doesn’t show mercy to thieves. If she shows her face again, I can guarantee you, he’ll have her head.”
His face turned plum-red with horror.
“She was… stealing?”
In a way, yes.
“She was caught by a maid last night.” You nodded, and the owner swallowed thickly.
“I – I understand, Miss. I am terribly sorry for this. I apologise that our services weren’t up to your master’s expectations, truly. Please, if there’s anything I can do- and I can assure you, I’ll be having some very stern words-”
You cut him off.
“There is one more thing, as a matter of fact."
"Anything." He pleaded.
"You can send word that… Veronica, is it? She’ll be paying him a visit this evening. But you are not, under any circumstances, to send her. Am I understood?”
He furrowed his brows, puzzled. But you stared back challengingly and held your ground.
A small, sheepish smile formed on his face.
“Much obliged. I can assure you your requests will be carried out with the utmost discretion.”
“Thank you.”
He brought you the heels in a shiny box, and you turned and left.
Henry was waiting outside, and you slid back into the car.
“Get what you needed, ma’am?”
“I certainly did.”
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The drive home was your chance to pick up lunch, finetune your plan, and go through the suits you’d had Henry pick up from the tailor.
They looked impeccable – crisp and creaseless, the white shirts brighter than the stars, and the maroon red jackets and waistcoats deeper than blood itself. It was one of these jackets that you chose to take upstairs with you, leaving the rest to be taken up to Snow’s room later, hoping the missing item would go unnoticed.
You retraced your way up the winding stairs of the manor. Luckily, Lucille had informed you Snow had left not long after you that morning, and was expected to be gone until evening. Nonetheless, your paranoia made you glance left, right and left again before every turn. Finally, after an exhaustingly long morning, you were back in the safety of your own room.
But the work was far from finished. You ate quickly, then began getting ready for your discussion with Snow. He hadn’t sent for you again; he was too proud. You took pride in knowing he’d be positively seething at your turning him down that morning. You kept going, showering, teasing your hair, adding a little more makeup than usual – not excessive, but enough to make a difference – then finally wandered the room as you picked your wardrobe for later.
You lay out the heels – which were a little big on you, but would serve their purpose – as well as the jacket you’d stolen, taking the time to run your fingers over the smooth maroon velvet you’d felt only briefly before, when brushing against Snow at public events. You then dug through your underwear drawer, debating between a red lingerie set and a white. You picked the latter; the tones of red would blend in with the jacket and white made more of a statement.
Innocence. If only.
You checked the time. Three hours or so until Coriolanus would be expecting Veronica. You hoped that he would be back by then, and more so, that your performance with the brothel owner had been enough to hold him to his promise of sending word. But if you’d learnt anything from Snow, it was that fear commanded respect, and better yet, obedience. So your doubts were few and far between.
In all honesty, that’s what had drawn you to Snow in the first place. It wasn’t about money; your family had money, more than they knew what to do with. It was the power, the fear. Even the richest man in the world would crumble to the ground with a gun to his head. Power trumps wealth every time, and the enigmatic, newly elected President was by far the most powerful man in Panem.
It was its own kind of thrill, pursuing a man like that. The temptation to get him wrapped around your fingers, ravenous, hungry for power, hungry for him. It all blurred together at this point, the man was like a magnet. You wondered if this thirst for more, always more, was an affliction the two of you shared. Or perhaps, an affliction you’d developed a taste for because of him. And the longer you spent at his side, the louder it began to beat in your chest like a second heart. You wanted to consume it, and let it consume you.
It thrummed in your chest now, adrenaline coursing in your veins. You fidgeted as you waited for the hours to pass, your craving growing with each second. You flicked through a few books; you drafted a letter to your mother. Each tick of the clock bringing you closer to finally taking the one thing you’d wanted since the day you met Coriolanus Snow. It was almost time for your big move.
✩✩✩✩
As enough darkness crept into your room and you stood to light some candles, you heard soft footsteps pass your door.
For a change, you recognised them as Snow’s, even and deliberate. He was home. With half an hour to spare until he’d be expecting his whore.
You jumped at the opportunity to change. Slowly and carefully, you slipped out of your clothes and into the underwear set, until you were clad in crisp white lace, with a matching garter belt as a finishing touch. You slid on Snow’s jacket – which smelled like him, of his cologne – the usual fitted shape it would give Snow now hanging loose and slack around your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. You did up the first button, tracing the neckline that plunged down your chest, leaving very little to the imagination. You slipped into the heels, checked the time, and after scanning yourself over in the mirror, made for the door.
The few worries you had about being seen by the staff were short-lived; the hallway lights were dim as you wobbled in the heels, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. You weren’t sure if Snow had fallen for your plan, but what mattered was that as you turned the corner, there were lights shining from under his bedroom door. He was in there, waiting. By now, it was odd seeing it closed. You tried your best to emulate the sound of the footsteps you’d drilled into your brain, the clicks giving you a sense of power knowing Snow – apprehensive or not – would be in for at least one surprise.
Click. Click. Click.
You considered pausing before barging in, but you didn’t. When you reached the end of the hallway, seconds away from your fate, you reached out a hand, pushed Snow’s door open, and walked right inside.
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Snow was there; of course he was. Facing his dresser and away from you, he didn’t flinch at the sound of your arrival. You closed the door behind you, and took a step towards him. Stared at his back, scanning his black dress pants and the white shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows, cufflinks on the table, blonde curls a little unruly as he smoothly poured himself a drink.
This, right here, was where the solid part of your plan ended. It was caution to the wind from here on out, and you could practically taste it, high off the adrenaline; off his presence. And he hadn’t even looked at you yet.
This was the moment of truth.
“Well,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Look who finally figured it out.”
“Not who you were expecting?”
“She’d never reschedule.” he said simply, turning on his heels, eyes glinting at you. “Figured you were up to something. Drink?”
“Think I’ll pass.”
He approached you, eyes scanning your body, deliberately clad in the skimpiest underwear you owned. You figured this was as good a time as any to unbutton the jacket and let it fall open. It brushed your sides, and you watched him lower his glance, hungrily taking you in for what could quite possibly be the very first time. He wet his lips, took another sip.
There it is.
There was that power you craved, that look that you’d been aching to see in his eyes while he stared at you, and although it was fucked up, you let the pride fill your head with confidence, and stepped forward.
“Now, just where did you get that?” A slight narrowing of his eyes gave him away. At least something you’d done had made an impression.
“Borrowed it. In case I get cold.” You smiled.
“Cute. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”
“Oh, I take whatever I want, Snow.”
You raised your head in defiance. Proud of your voice for not faltering once.
“Clearly. Nice shoes. Borrow those, too?”
“Why, do they look familiar?” you quipped.
“I think we both know the answer to that, doll. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
You sighed, feigning exasperation. A chill crept up your legs but you barely noticed.
“You wanted to talk to me, Coriolanus. Talk.”
“Is that really what you came here for, sweetheart? Dressed like that?” He put his drink down on the dresser, not once looking away from you.
“If this is what it takes to get your attention, Snow, then yes.”
You took another step closer, and the jacket fell further to your sides, more skin slipping out from underneath for him to feast his eyes on.
“I think you know plenty about trying to get my attention. I watched you struggle for weeks.”
“Didn’t think you cared.” You muttered.
He laughed, low, more like a scoff.
“What, your childish attempts at seduction? They were pitiful at best. I’d expect that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady of your standing.”
“Thought you liked whores.” You retorted.
“They’re no fun to live with. And there you were, proving my point.”
Your eyes narrowed, and when you spoke, it was through gritted teeth.
“So what, you had to go and fuck one to prove a point? Mature.”
“Mature?” he glowered, then before you could think, he stormed towards you, grabbing both of your wrists with a hard squeeze. You gasped.
“Mature like you, with your short skirts and your fuck-me eyes, sucking your fingers off at the breakfast table?”
You squirmed. Tried to jolt yourself away but it was no use.
“I didn’t think you-”
“Oh, I noticed.” He said, moving in to corner you, grip tightening until he was walking you backwards across the room as he spoke, never once taking his eyes off you. “And it’s a real shame this couldn’t have been easier for us both, but you just had to start it. So I watched your pathetic little displays, day after day, knowing if you’d behaved better, I would’ve given you exactly what you wanted.”
You fought not to trip over yourself until your legs bumped against the ottoman at the foot of his bed and you caught your breath. His eyes bored into yours and you blinked helplessly. His grip loosened on your wrists. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone dry.
“If you’d been good,” he continued, voice lowering, “you wouldn’t have played around like that. Good girls don’t whore themselves out to respectable men.”
Your eyes narrowed in defiance as you felt heat start to brew in your stomach.
“Respectable?” You spat, and his grip tightened again, bringing one hand up to trace your jaw, almost pitifully.
“See what I mean? You dig yourself deeper at every turn. Good girls ask nicely, and say please. It didn’t take me long to figure out you had issues with authority. It could’ve been so easy for you, sweetheart. You had plenty of chances. You could’ve asked me very nicely to fuck you, but instead you behaved like a desperate slut for weeks on end. Eventually, I knew there was only one way to shut you up.”
Your ears started to ring and you fought harder to gain composure. He’d never talked to you like this before. And now, all this, all at once, it was almost too much. Goosebumps had long covered your arms and legs, despite the heat inside you burning you up. You were vaguely aware of heat pooling uncomfortably between your legs.
Your breathing was heavy as you stared into him, his hand gripping your chin, and you couldn’t hide it if you tried. He finally backed away, letting you peel yourself from the ottoman. His hungry eyes scanned over you, suit jacket now crumpled at the wrists. You swallowed as you tried to pull yourself together.
“You knew I was watching you. The whole time. Every time. It was… for me.”
He watched you knowingly, raised his eyebrows a little. His lips grew into that smirk, that fucking smirk you knew all too well.
“We were playing the same game, sweetheart. I was just… Better.”
“A little excessive, don’t you think?” Your voice faltered and you cursed how breathy it sounded.
“Oh, on the contrary. It was very entertaining to see you struggle, but I could’ve gone further.” He mused. “I even considered fucking her on your bed.”
Shit.
A thought popped into your head, and a strange smile made its way to your face.
“Aren’t you going to ask me where I got these?” You asked, glancing down.
He frowned for a second; good. You’d thrown him off guard. But he caught up fast.
“The heels? You know, I had her walk right past your door in those so you’d follow her and see just what you were missing?”
If you weren’t so wired with adrenaline, you were pretty sure you’d be tearing up with how desperate you felt. But his words channelled it all into pure anger.
“Fuck you.” You seethed, and he smiled.
“We'll get to that. But go on, I’ll bite. What did you do to her?”
“Let’s just say she deserved much worse than what she got. Maybe you should’ve fucked her on my bed. Would’ve given me a reason to choke the life out of her.”
“You think I’d care?”
“Course not. Knowing you, it’d probably get you off.”
“Which brings us right back to now.” He stared at you, challenging. You laughed again.
“Is this you talking? You’re not very good at it.”
“No, this is me giving you a second chance. The way I see it, you made your move, I made mine. Now, if you’re a good girl, and ask me very nicely to fuck you until that pretty little head of yours gets filled with nothing but empty space, I might consider putting an end to this and giving you what you want. Maybe.” If you thought you’d survive smacking that smug look off his face, you would.
“You want me to ask nicely, Coriolanus?” You closed the gap between the two of you and glanced up at him through your lashes. He looked back at you, and no chill in the world could cool you down from the fire in his eyes.
He stepped away, paced towards the desk chair – the one he’d watched you from last night – then dragged it across the floor, spun it around, and took a seat. Once again, last night felt worlds away now. A lifetime sat between that moment and this one as he made himself comfortable, unbuttoned his collar. As if the room was now a stage, and he was the sole spectator.
“Go on. I’m waiting.”
Cocky bastard.
Another airy laugh escaped you. But you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t exactly where you wanted him. So you played into it.
“You want me to beg you? Say pretty please?” Your voice softened as you slowly stepped towards him, holding his gaze. A passing thought reminded you of your childhood, asking your mother what you’d feel when you first truly fell for someone.
Fireworks. Thousands of them, crackling, hissing, charging the air between the two of you into something heavy. Thick clouds of smoke you could almost taste as you stared into darkened eyes. You paused in front of him, fingers playing with the hem of his suit jacket that brushed against your thighs. Caught your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Take it off.” He ordered.
“Gladly.”
You slipped the jacket off your shoulders, and it fell smoothly into a pile on the floor. You kicked off the heels next, landing haphazardly to the side with a thump. His eyes never leaving you, consuming you.
“Like what you see, Snow?”
He took you in, long and hungry and shameless. Like you were simply there for his entertainment, nothing else. You wondered where along the line he’d lost all his inhibitions, at what moment in his very young life he’d decided to simply stop caring. It should scare you, but it just made you burn warmer. Maybe your wires were a little crossed, too, because it didn’t make you feel cheap.
It made you feel powerful.
You knew you looked good, too; you’d made sure of it. But he was looking at you like you were carved out of solid gold. He didn’t answer, because he didn’t need to.
“Think I like you better when you’re not acting like a dumb slut.”
You hummed, determined and unphased, moving in closer until your legs touched his knees. His words shouldn’t turn you on - nor should not knowing exactly how much he meant them – but they did.
“You like me better when I’m begging, then?” You placed your legs either side of his, straddling him, but still standing, and took his hands in yours. You ran one of them across your lips, brazenly taking a digit in your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop, then dropping your head down.
“You want me to be straightforward, Snow? Tell you exactly what I want?” you breathed, your foreheads almost touching, looking down at him from a thrilling vantage point, your hair falling either side of his face. “To beg you to rip this off me?” You guided his hands to your hips, letting them slide over the lacy fabric. “You want me to beg you to kiss every inch of skin you see and make it yours? Beg you to fuck me until I can’t think, and forget my own name?”
You ran his hands down the sides of your legs, then, inch by inch, letting him take a good long look on the way, you finally lowered yourself onto his lap. Your blown-out eyes met again, at the same level this time. You shifted your hips once, feigning getting comfortable, and hid a smile as he let out a strained sound.
You were close enough to feel his breath against yours, fast but steady, controlled. You moved closer, your head dipping cautiously under his chin to kiss his neck. He smelt clean, like fresh laundry and his cologne, and his skin tasted like salt as your tongue traced a line across it. It felt like power, having him like this. Slowly starting to grind your hips as your mouth pressed against his pulse, every shaky breath you elicited from him awakening something new in you.
“Say it, Snow.” You murmured, breath catching. “Tell me you want me to beg you, and be good for you.” Another trail of messy kisses across his jaw, and you finally heard it, ragged and coarse, words shooting through you like knives softened by the heat of his breath on your hair.
“Be a good girl, and fucking beg me.”
You hummed with satisfaction. Moved your lips to his ear, hand cupping the back of his neck, and leaned in close.
“If you wanted me to be good,” you whispered, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”
You felt it, his whole body tensing beneath you. But you had it now, the upper hand, and you weren’t giving it away. Your other hand came up to close over his mouth with a warning shake of the head, and you gripped the back of his neck harder with the first. Craned it backwards so he could look at you, a different kind of fire in his eyes. A fire that could burn you far worse than any other. You leaned your weight into him until you were flush, skin pressing into fabric. Tightening your legs around his so he couldn’t kick out. You felt dangerous. You felt alive.
When you spoke, your voice was a vial of vitriol.
“You thought I’d just give into you? Three weeks of torture and you call it even? No fucking way, Snow. You wanted to play? Let’s play.”
You were closer to him now than you’d ever been before, infinitely closer than when you’d held hands in front of an audience, or danced in the middle of a ballroom, or when he’d draw you in for a lingering kiss at the head of a busy table.
You were closer still because of the common denominator: you were alone, your bodies pressed together, soft and firm colliding. And your stomach ached with want, but your rage burned brighter.
When you were sure he wouldn’t move, you readjusted your position on his lap so you were sat on one thigh, your right knee pressed firmly against the chair between his legs. Slowly, you dragged your hips against it, firm muscle between your legs, shameless as you stared him down.
“I’d like to modify the terms of our agreement, as of tonight. Starting with this: I’ve made sure your little whore won’t come running back here. If I so much as hear a whisper of a rumor that you’re fucking someone else, I’m leaving. Don’t think I don’t know how to disappear. I can, and I will.”
He scowled at you, and you’d never felt power like the rush you got from seeing your hand clamped over his mouth. His own hands, now easily able to overpower you and push yours away, instead sat at your hips, digging in so hard you knew there’d be bruises for weeks. As you moved, he started to follow suit, rocking your hips on his thigh faster.
He’s allowing this.
The realisation made you pull your hand from his mouth, and yet he didn’t speak. There was a tightness in his jaw, locked down so hard it must’ve hurt as he watched you move, helped you move. It sent a shock through your core, and you ground down harder.
Who’s on top now?
This was getting to your head.
“President Snow,” you mocked. “What a title. Thinks he can take whatever’s in his sight. Thinks he has the right. Did you think I’d come crawling back to you?” Your voice lowered.
“Did you think I’d get on my knees, like she did?” You glanced down, running your now-free hand over the front of his pants, gentle at first, then pressing in firm, and he hissed.
“Did you really think, after all your little shows, that I’d just submit? Not a chance.” You spat, and his breath turned a little shaky as your hand slid up, then down.
As it evened out, and he reached for composure again, he pulled a countermove. Got in close, with words so sharp, they nearly cut through you.
“Which one was your favorite?”
You pulled your hand away. Your hold on the back of his neck tightened, and in turn, so did his grip on your hips, pulling you down harder as you got closer, panties bunching up as you became desperate.
You shook your head.
“Don’t.”
He smirked.
“I gave you plenty to go off. Tell me, was it when I sat right here while she rode me? Or when I was fucking her mouth and calling your name?”
He pulled your hips in rougher, and you gasped, barely able to think. You were sure if he kept this up, your thighs would chafe. You just couldn’t find it in you to care.
“No, I don’t think so.” He hummed. “I know which one it was. It was the second time, wasn’t it? When I was making her cum all over my tongue, wondering what you tasted like.”
You couldn’t help it – a moan slipped out of your lips. He kept up the pace, rolling your hips faster, flexing his thigh as you started losing your bearings. He laughed at the state of you.
“I knew that one would get to you. Tell me something, princess, how many times did you touch yourself after that night wishing it was me? Or did you lose count?”
You gritted your teeth, fighting the spinning room.
“Cocky much?”
He let out a breathy laugh again, as if he was losing himself as much as you were. Pulling you in harder in response.
“Look at you,” he mused, “riding my thigh like the needy slut you are. Bet you’re close, too, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
“Fuck.” you panted. “Stop fucking talking, oh my god.”
“You sure about that, sweetheart? You know I can feel how wet it’s making you, right?”
Your head dropped down and you whined. Sure enough, you’d soaked through your panties and dripped an embarrassing wet patch on his dress pants. You cursed under your breath as you slowed down.
“Beg me.” He ordered.
“No.” You gasped as he pulled you back again, faster, hips bucking as your legs started to shake around his.
“Beg me,” he repeated, "or I’ll stop.”
“Fuck, no, don’t fucking stop, I can’t-”
It was so much friction it hurt, but you kept chasing it.
“Yes, you can. You want to cum? Ask nicely, sweetheart. Just ask me.”
The seam of your panties got wetter as you moved, just enough to let the pain melt into pleasure instead as it caught on your clit, and you started to ride out your high. You were right at the edge, he was keeping you there, hair stuck to your face in a hot sweat as you writhed on his lap. So fucking close.
“Fine, shit. Please. Please help me cum, oh my god. Right there, please. Fuck.”
And maybe you were more like him than you thought, because you weren’t ashamed. You rode his thigh like you’d ride him, unabashedly, while he watched you starting to fall apart. He moved faster, pulled your hips hard in as if you were riding him, as if he could feel it, breath running ragged, desperate. It only brought you closer knowing this would be sending him over the edge, holding you so near and yet so awfully far away. The look in his eyes screaming danger, and you let it swallow you whole, squeezing his shoulders like you were scared you’d float away.
"That's it. Knew you'd sound incredible, asking me all pretty like that."
His lips met your neck, teeth grazing your skin and that’s what did it, your legs squeezing his as you shook through your orgasm, crying out, falling to pieces, hearing going fuzzy. The words good girl echoing through your head so distantly, you couldn’t tell if he’d really said them or not.
You sighed, glazed eyes rolling open, coming back to yourself. Your right hand was pressed against his chest, fingers curled into the creased fabric of his shirt. As you looked closer, you noticed it had opened wider, and he was missing a button. Had you done that?
When your eyes finally met Snow’s, you couldn’t look away from them. Beautiful and blue, like an ocean frozen over, staring into yours like you were all he’d ever wanted. You could get high off this feeling, live off it.
“Get on the bed.” He breathed. “Right fucking now.”
But too much of any feeling isn’t good for you.
“No.”
He glowered, face flushing even further, and as he leaned in to make another demand, you quickly stood, trying your hardest not to let your wobbling legs give you away.
“You should understand, Snow. We’re doing things my way now. And I’m going to be doing them as I please, when I please.”
You picked his jacket up from the floor, and slipped back into it, the soft fabric cooling down your burning skin.
“You think you’re funny, sweetheart? Nobody likes a fucking tease.”
You chuckled, doing up a button and brushing your hair out of your face, damp with sweat. You walked to the dresser and took a swig from Snow’s half-empty glass, then turned. He sat there, and it took everything in you not to smirk at the mess you’d made of him. You handed him the glass when you were done drinking and turned away. You felt him stand, but you didn’t acknowledge it, still fiddling with your hair, smoothing it out.
“You said it yourself, Snow. I’m no common whore. If you want me to beg you to fuck me, you’re gonna have to work for it.” You turned, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. His face was unreadable.
“But be a doll, leave your door unlocked.” You added, stepping back. “You never know when I might change my mind.”
“You’re not going to leave. You wouldn’t dare.” He seethed, the rage in his voice only propelling you on.
“Wouldn’t I?” You smiled, giving him a once over. Dropped your eyes down pointedly, first at the ruined leg you’d ridden, then at the uncomfortable-looking tent in his pants. You met his eye again and bit your lip, really laying it on thick. “Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
He huffed, incredulous, disbelief painted across his face as you made for the door, swinging it open. You glanced over your shoulder.
“Buckle up, Snow. I’m just getting started.”
You missed the way his shocked face turned almost admiring as he watched you leave, walking barefoot down the hallway, leaving the door wide open.
Checkmate.
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a/n: hope it was worth the wait 😌
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violet-eng · 5 months
Text
Drunk!Loid Forger x wife!fem!reader | NSFW 🔞
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Summary: Loid comes home very late drunk after going out drinking with Franky. He fucks you drunk.
Warnings: Porn with no plot lol. Smut +18. Oral fem! Masturbation. Inappropriate use of belt. Spanking. P i v. Unprotected sex, mention of pregnancy. MDNI
Wc: idk like 3k?
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For Agent Twilight, there was something pleasurable about playing Loid Forger, the carelessness that the peaceful family man could indulge in from time to time without suffering any major consequences...like the night Franky had invited him out for a drink.
Twilight was a man of strong drinks, the kind that go to your head and detach you from reality by ripping your thoughts and every last drop of consciousness from your brain... he was addicted to those drinks because he could stand them, because they were no challenge for the best spy in Westalis.
However... along with the wonderful, sweet personality that the Loid Forger brings with him, certain misplaced platitudes fall upon Twilight. Twilight was a cold man of steady mettle and pure stoicism, a determination that could not be eclipsed by mundane feelings like... falling in love....
The fusion of his alter ego as Loid Forger with that of his original identity as Twilight had led him to the very night he stumbled back to your house, his hand covering his face in search of relief from the terrible headache.
He doesn't turn on the kitchen light because he knows you're sleeping in their shared room, and he doesn't make any noise when he fills a glass of water because he's afraid of disturbing your sleep.
You, his beautiful and efficient wife, what more could he ask for but a devoted woman like you. Fuck... if only his mission would never end... he wouldn't have to leave you.
"Loid..." you whisper from the living room, peering over the wall. He woke you up... you can't see him in this state, he can't talk in this state. If he confesses anything now, if he gets carried away with his feelings for you, anything would jeopardize the mission...
Come on, Twilight, think fast. He shakes his head as he returns to his role as Loid Forger.
"Y/n, my dear. I'm sorry I woke you," the voice is calm, even though your name falls from his lips in a frenzy of emotions.
"You came back late," you add, emerging from your hiding place and walking towards him, who stops breathing for a moment.
The dim light illuminates your figure, you are wearing only one of his shirts, which covers the skin above your thighs, and a pair of white wool stockings. Your hair is down, and it seems to Twilight that you look perfect in this moment, with these clothes and this warm light.
Damn, she looks so...
"I'm... I'm sorry, I went out for a drink with Franky. I didn't think I'd be back so late," he stammers for a moment. What are you doing to him? What effect do you have on him that he can't control his emotions?
"I see," you smile, "your cheeks are pink, you look lovely"
"No... no, of course not," he turns his face away, lips parted and cheeks burning.
What are you doing, Twilight, regain your composure.
"I missed you," you confess, embracing him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting them fall to his stomach, filling his breath with your scent, your lemon and honey scent reaching into the deepest recesses of his mind, taking over his consciousness and his last shred of self-control.
I am Twilight... and I am fucked... I want to fuck her tonight like I've wanted to fuck her for months.
You are completely unaware of the man on top of you. He has carried you into the bedroom in one swift, nimble movement, stealthily and carefully. He has laid you down on the mattress and is now attacking your neck with his lips.
Whiskey breath surrounds your mind, your consciousness is clouded and your heart is disturbed by the frenzy of your husband's kisses, causing sensual gasps on your skin. Loid's hands run through your hair, tangling behind your neck to give him more access to your neck and chin, devouring your surface with hunger and desire.
You are completely immobilized by his muscular body, and by the surprise that his behavior has caused you, you feel your heart in your throat, the beats echoing in your ears, only eclipsed by his moaning when he touches the valley of your breasts through your shirt.
"Loid~" you bite your lip and try to push him away with both hands, but it's no use, Loid is so much stronger than you. Has he always been like this?
"You have no idea how you turn me on," he whispers, almost on the verge of madness, his throat is choked and he holds back his tongue that wants to run all over your body.
He sits on top of you, you find relief in being able to breathe normally for a moment as you see him unbutton his shirt, opening it with a jerk to expose his chiseled abdomen. It's not the first time you've looked at him without his clothes on, but you always marvel at the way his muscles stand out against his skin, the way a few scars frame his pecs and abdomen.
You reach out and touch his skin, the line between his chiseled abs, in a reflexive action. Having him so close, like this, awakens a vulgar side in you that only he knows.
"Patience," he whispers, the tone deep and punctuated with a lustful gasp.
He throws the cloth away from the bed and leaves his hands on the belt of his pants. His movements are desperate yet unmistakable, he is quite skilled for being so drunk.
His pants are on the floor next to his shirt and boxers, he holds the belt between his hands and strokes the leather with his fingers, a dark idea floating in his mind.
"Loid..." you get his attention, only to meet a dark stare, bathed in malice.
"I have plans for you, y/n" his smile is evil, but it turns you on, fuck, you've never seen this side of your husband before.
Loid made love to you, when you slept together he was the soft and gentle type who cared more about your satisfaction than his own. He didn't play with you, he didn't tempt you and he didn't make you beg. His gaze was always loving, full of sincere and genuine affection. His kisses were chaste, almost as if you would break if he came any closer, and his thrusts were gentle, so that he could feel you clearly and not hurt you.
And he didn't cum inside you because he knew you weren't ready to be pregnant, because it was enough to take care of Anya, another child would be too much work for both of you... so when you were done, he bathed you and fell asleep next to you, framing your form with a protective hug and sweet, almost poetic words in your ear until you were both asleep. Loid was a sweet and loving husband...
That was Loid, and it was okay... for you... because for Twilight, it was a nightmare.
He hated going slow, he hated not being able to bite your skin or leave marks between your legs, and worst of all, he hated you moaning a name that wasn't even his. That's why tonight, he would completely take over Forger's identity, kill Loid, and do to your body what Twilight had wanted to do since he first saw you.
"Shit," he grunts as he takes his member in his hand and fucks him with his fist, throwing his head back. Just the thought of fucking you that night had turned him on.
You look at him with great surprise, you've never seen Loid masturbate before and you didn't think the first time would be while he was on top of you. The way his ragged breathing lifts his chest, the way his muscles flex as he jerks his arm, and especially the way he moans your name as the red head of his cock drips pre-cum.
Even though you are completely unaware of this behavior, you can't take your eyes off of him. You slip a hand under your clothes, rifling through your panties in search of your clit, throbbing at the image of Loid above you. Your wrist is gripped by Loid's hand, which leans over you with a tight grip and whispers into your ear.
"Not yet. I haven't given you permission," the voice is unrecognizable, Loid has never used such a low tone.
He undoes the buttons of your shirt, pulling the fabric apart as he dips his face between your bare breasts, sliding the fabric under your shoulders as you squirm from the soft bites he leaves around your nipples.
He circles his tongue around the buttons of your breasts as he runs his hands all over you, from your sides to your arms, lifting them above your head. Loid touches you as if he has never touched a woman before.
He takes the belt and holds your wrists above your head, watching you from his position, like a hunter watching his prey. You let yourself be taken in by his bizarre game, maybe it's a fantasy he's wanted to fulfill for a long time and now he has the confidence to do it, you think.
And the reality is that Twilight fucks like this because he knows he's going to fuck you so good that you'll want to push it away with all your might.
He leaves a trail of kisses all over your face, down your chin, your neck, between your breasts and your stomach, around your waist and down to your hips, where he holds the elastic of your panties, fucking soaked with your juices.
He glances at you before tearing the thin fabric, and for a moment you can see the face of an unknown man, his face completely changed by the lust he is releasing at that moment. Leaning back on his elbows, he spreads your legs and rests them on his shoulders, licking his lips as he watches your dripping pussy.
With his fingers he gently caresses your valley and the edge of your hole, his finger grazes your clitoris, eliciting a moan from you.
He looks at you from between your legs, analyzes your face and the surroundings, and you swear his mind is going a mile a minute right now."What are you thinking about?" you ask embarrassed.Loid turns his gaze back to you, the blue of his eyes seeming darker than before.
"I was debating whether to gag you or not, I don't want to wake the kid."
"I won't make any noise... I... I promise," you say hesitantly, because you don't believe your own words.
"I want to hear you hold back," he smiles, the corner of his lip turning to the side.
He dips his face between your legs, his nose brushing your skin, his fingers parting your folds, his tongue moving from the base to the top. You shiver at the passage of his tongue as it begins to wiggle around your clit. It is delicate, gentle, as it always has been... but he seems to enjoy it more than before.
He gasps as he moves his head, his fingers spreading your folds further apart and you feel the warmth of his breath on your entrance. He doesn't tire, he doesn't stop, in fact, with each movement he seems more energetic than before.
He continues to caress your clit with his tongue, sucking on the small nub that makes you arch your back and hold back the moans that want to escape your mouth. You feel Loid's tongue at your entrance and his nose brushing your clit, then a finger slips gently inside you, followed by another.
His fingers are long, calloused, and surprisingly dexterous. He finds your spot almost immediately and you feel like you're seeing stars. His tongue doesn't leave your clit, your button is swollen and he sucks on it passionately while his fingers abuse your sensitive spot inside you.
Your walls close over his fingers, he thrusts in and out, fucking you wonderfully with his digits, while your ecstasy grows in your belly from his skillful tongue.
He lets out a hot gasp against your skin, and the sound of his fingers soaked in your juices floods the room, it seems harder and harder to contain your moans. You bite your lip hard as he makes a soft stroke over your button, his fingers digging deep inside you.
He makes a curious movement, lifting his fingers and seeming to increase his speed, he uses his other hand to mistreat your clit, with his elbows he spreads your legs. You can't close them, you want to, you want him to stop, you feel the burning in your stomach and in your legs. He lowers his face again to the level of your sex, just when it seems he is finished, he continues, his tongue abusing your hole and your clit in perfect synchrony, a hand runs down your belly and catches your breast.
"Loid~" you let out his name in an anxious moan "Ah~ Loid..."
That name, he thinks, his mouth and mind focused on your sex... I am that now, I am Loid Forger, this is my wife, and I will see to it that she can't get out of bed for days.
"Loid," you add, taking his hair between your fingers, your bound wrists making movement difficult.
"Mmh?" he whispers still between your legs, the vibrations of his voice sending electric waves up your spine.
"Since when... you're so good... so good at this," your words are cut off by a dirty moan that slips from between your lips. It hurts, it hurts not to be able to make a sound, it hurts not to be able to scream out how good your husband is eating you right now.
"What do you mean?" he asks, he knows exactly what you mean, but he likes to play with your mind, right now.
His movements are synchronized again and your mind is confused as you feel your orgasm erupt. Loid has never made you come with his tongue alone. And he hasn't lasted this long. It's different, he behaves differently.
You're breathing hard, your mind a whirlwind, and even more so as you watch Loid savor the nectar that has stained his fingers. His tongue dances erotically between his digits, and his gaze is all on you.
"I missed your taste. Much better than whiskey," he says.
You pick up your legs, thinking he is done, and when you go to ask him to untie your hands, you feel him flip your hips. The movement is quick, almost imperceptible, your face is glued to the sheet, and when you go to protest the sudden change of position, you feel him sink deep inside you.
"Loid!" the cry you let out is unmistakable. It hurt, but it also felt so good. He pushes your walls apart with his cock, molding your insides for him. He leaves a resounding slap on your butcheek and you hear him laughing behind you.
"Just what I wanted to hear," he says.
He pulls back, letting the head tease your entrance, your sodden pussy contracting to nothing, and he slips back in, whole, as far as your cervix will allow. You feel the crash of his hips against your ass and his balls slapping against your skin. His hands are anchored to your hips, leaving occasional slaps on your now pink skin. He's ramming you like an animal, the pace is fast and the force is enormous.
You tremble, your face sunk into the mattress, your forehead rubbing against the sheet from your husband's movements, your elbows in front of your head and your hands raised as if in prayer.
"Loid~ please...more...slower," you moan, almost sobbing.
Each thrust is accompanied by moans from both of you, his moans dark in comparison to yours, and in the background the grinding of the bed and the banging of the headboard against the wall. He moves like he's never moved before, fucks you like he's never fucked you before.
His fingers slide under your belly, touching your clit, you let out another scream at the overstimulation, and begin to move your hips in time to his fingers. Your breasts are massaged by his other hand, fully attended.
"Loid, Loid I..." you don't know what to say, the sentences you blurt out are meaningless, pleasure clouds your mind and all you hear is Loid's low growl behind you.
"You have no idea," he whispers in your ear and leans over you. You feel his chest against your back, your pussy shuddering at the change in position and the sudden cessation of his assault. "You have no idea how many times I've wanted to fuck you like this."
He spreads your lips with his fingers and your tongue tastes your own taste and a hint of the whiskey he'd had a few hours ago.
"m gonna fuck you until that little pussy of yours breaks, did you hear me?" he demanded grabbing a fistful of your hair and lifting your head.
"Yes... yes I heard you" you blurted out between moans. You couldn't say no, you didn't want to.
He continues his onslaught, more violent than the previous ones, expanding your walls, opening you wide for him, throwing your head back in an avid attempt to enjoy every nook and cranny of your loins. It feels as if it's going to pierce you at any moment, hammering against your spot abruptly, relentlessly.
You turn your head to look at him in the mirror, head back, eyes closed and lips parted, letting out low moans. His arms, muscles tense as his hands hold your hips, holding you in place. His hips move deftly, forcefully, he knows how to align himself perfectly before entering you again.
And you, your back is arched perfectly, your ass vibrates with each thrust and your breasts jiggle in frenzy from the onslaught of his cock. Your cheeks are pink, your lips swollen, your forehead sweaty.
"So good" you hear Loid, who leaves his hand on the back of your neck, returning to your starting position.
You reach your second orgasm without even recovering from the first, and Loid cums inside you soon after.
"I like that you have stamina," he says, turning your body around without coming out of you, his movements continuing, resuming the frantic rhythm of a few seconds ago.
You don't have stamina, fuck no, of course not. But there's not much you can do when your hands are tied and held down by a burly man taller than you. You tell him you can't take it anymore, you feel like you're going to pass out, but fuck, how good it feels when he caresses your waist while he fucks you in that position.
He hides his face in your neck, strokes your hair, frames your cheek with his hand. Untie your hands without looking, and you finally feel free enough to anchor yourself to his back, marking his skin with your nails and playing with his hair.
Loid's favorite position is missionary, because he can smell you as he penetrates you, because he has access to you in every possible way, because he intertwines his hands with yours above your head and whispers that he loves you, over and over and over again.
"Say my name," he whispers, his voice drowned out by your shoulder, "say my name, please.
"Loid," you whisper again and again as you wrap your legs around his waist and your hands find comfort in his.
He kisses you, kisses you as if he had never kissed you before, as if with one kiss he could suck your soul and keep you in his chest forever. With this kiss, he tears away all your doubts and strengthens the promise of a life together with you.
He will not leave you, he tells you fervently, he swears on his life that he will never leave you, that he will put a child in you and that he will not leave this family.
"I hope you will accept me as I am," he whispers.
"Oh, Loid," you smile as you cling to him in an embrace, your legs feeling your third orgasm approaching,
"Loid~ I love you...".
There are no words to describe this night, it has drained you of all your energy, you feel almost sick, weak and completely out of control.Loid hugs you to his chest and covers you with the sheets, leaving a kiss on your forehead and whispers how well you took it.
"Loid..." you whisper.
"Yes?"
"You don't have to ask me to accept you...I love you in every possible way. If this is your way of telling me that I need to get to know you better, I am ready to do so. If I discover another phase of you, as I did today, I will be more than happy to do so," you look at him smiling, "I have noticed that you have many faces that I don't know, Loid Forger.
Loid Forger, he thinks, the man of a thousand faces... doesn't sound bad.
He knows he'll have to tell you about his mission someday, but now is not the time, not after he's shed his facade and shown you an authentic side of himself. Even though he knows you'll understand, he doesn't want to risk everything, at least not yet... later, when you know Twilight better, he can tell you everything... and stay with you. ....
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hyperfixat · 11 months
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How they show affection, demon brothers!
roughly ~700 words :3 side characters ver
Mammon bites.
Seeing how quickly Mammon took to you, he started showing affection around day three of knowing you, after forming your pact. At first you thought he was sniffing your hair, and maybe you needed new conditioner, but then you felt the graze of teeth on the lobe of your ear and a gentle bite.
You don’t react, save for a mild blush, and Mammon’s makes an oddly bird-like chiro, before pulling away from you.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“You bit me,” you acusse. It’s not like you’re mad, but knowing why might be nice.
“Stupid human, you’re imagining things,” and if you didn’t believe him from the tone of his voice the aggressive sunburnt red that eclipses his whole face shows he doesn’t mean it.
Satan headbutts.
It took a while for Satan to be affectionate with you, maybe shortly after the Lucifer slash London incident was when he first rammed his (thankfully horn-less) head into your arm. You thought he just bumped into you, maybe he stumbled and to spare him embarrassment, you didn’t mention it.
But then it happened again, this time he made eye contact with you before shoving his scalp into your chest. You melted.
Satan’s so sweet to you, for real for real.
Lucifer purrs.
Now don’t ask him or accuse him of purring because he will deny it, vehemently.
((The Avatar of Pride does not purr, don’t be ridiculous, MC. (Lying through his teeth.))
You only had the opportunity to hear it once in your first year at RAD, the night before you left, he had let you hold his head in your lap and bask in the warmth of your stomach and thighs in between the other activities you did that night.
Lucifer’s eyes has lidded and he gaze up at you with near heart shaped pupils, eyes nearly completely red, and a low rumble began in his chest.
At first you had thought he was growling and you did something wrong, but when you had stiffened up for a brief instance, Lucifer had snuggled his face deeper into your skin.
Asmodeus rattles.
You can’t see where it’s coming from, but it sounds like a baby rattle or the rattle of a snake.
“MC!” [aggressive rattling]
It was really confusing the first couple times and you had to eventually ask if there was a bug somewhere. Asmo, naturally, got offended, but as soon as you told him it was okay and you were just curious, he tells you it means he’s happy.
Cutie Patootie!!
Belphegor licks.
Belphie doesn’t give short little kitten licks, he gives long, drawn out licks across whatever he can access easiest (usually your neck or chest). His tongue is rough and tends to feel a bit scratchy against your skin and sometimes catches on your clothes.
The first time it happened was shortly after the attic incident, and you had thought you were alone in your bed and nearly had a heart attack when a lazy, oddly thick tongue went over your exposed forearm.
You, as one does when startled, screamed.
Belphie leans upward with a grumble, eyes alert though. “What’re you screamin’ about, MC?”
Beelzebub bites and buzzes.
He tries to keep it to just licks, he knows his teeth are sharp :( and he’d hate to hurt you by accident. But after you get your pact and harming you becomes much more unbearable, he will play-bite much more often.
AND he buzzes (like a fly, teehee) when he is especially content.
Leviathan purrs(?).
It’s probably some deep sea monster echolocation thing, but the closest you can describe it as is a purr.
Now getting him to purr is harder than getting Lucifer to purr, he gets up in his own head a lot, so usually when he’s sleepy he purrs (maybe it’s a trill?) into your side.
Bonus for Memphis, TN. (Mephisto)
Since we have not seen his demon form (thx solmare), I have to use what I know of my babygirl to guess what he is like.
I think he probably taps MC with his cane, like a poke or something idk it’s cute give me more mephisto content pls.
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randxmthxughts · 1 year
Text
Tunutu (Crush) - Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader
summary: although neteyam had never reciprocated her feelings, choosing him was always an easy decision for y/n, one of those she could make in a heartbeat. so when another man tries to win her affections, neteyam suddenly becomes aware of what he has been missing out on
wc: 7,7k
contains: childhood friends to lovers, first love/puppy love, jealousy, long-time crush
a/n: the way i completely made up everything about the vayätu-creature. sometimes i just write without a plot and although i was very excited for this idea, it was so difficult to finish it. i hope you enjoy reading it, please let me know if you do
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“Come on, Lo’ak, don’t take it to heart,” Kiri nudged her brother, “You know that Neteyam has been having a hard time lately, it’s not that he pushes you around on purpose.”
You emerged from behind the thick bushes, finally finding Lo’ak and Kiri sitting on a log, engrossed in a conversation. Your curiosity piqued at the mention of Neteyam.
“Why is Neteyam having a hard time?”
Kiri stiffened under your expectant gaze, but before she could even signal to Lo’ak to hold his tongue, he was already spilling out the truth. She groaned in frustration at how senseless her brother could be at times.
“Because our parents have been nagging at him to choose a mate lately.”
Neteyam must choose a mate. Your heart dropped at the statement you had been dreading to hear for years now, ever since he had first passed his Iknimaya. It was never going to be you, you were used to the thought, but nothing could have prepared for the weight of bearing it now.
“You are such a skxawng,” Kiri hissed at Lo’ak, swatting his arm. She shot you an almost apologetic glance.
“Why? It’s not like it is a secret,” Lo’ak rolled his eyes, finally drawing a connection between your sour expression and Kiri’s sudden irritation, "Neteyam has to choose a mate soon, so that the grandmother has enough time to prepare the new tsakarem. He's been putting it off for far too long."
“It is not easy to choose someone to love for a lifetime,” Kiri added with a sigh.
But it was. Choosing Neteyam was always an easy decision for you, one of those that you could make in a heartbeat. He had been your tunutu since childhood, a curious fascination with the older brother of your friends that eventually grew into a frustratingly intense crush, haunting you at every stage of your life. It was by Eywa's grace that your paths crossed with the Olo'eyktan's children when you were about six years old, learning to hunt and running through the forest together until the eclipse. On the second day of playing with Kiri and her brothers, you had boldly declared your love for Neteyam to everyone in the village, turning it into a big inside joke among the clan. If you had known that it would follow you far into your teenage years, when kids your age were relentless and cruel, you would have been more guarded about it. The guys teased Neteyam for having an admirer so clingy, it seemed as if he had grown a second tail. But no matter how much they tried to get to you with their taunts, it never seemed to bother him.
Even as a child, Neteyam had a maturity that went beyond his years. He seeked no entertainment in punishing someone for their feelings, something they cannot control. On the contrary, he admired your loyalty and dedication to him, the way you had remained his close friend, despite his gentle refusal of your romantic overtures. And so, that’s how it went. Your relationship grew stronger over the years, you learned and failed together but were always there for each other to offer a supporting shoulder. It hit a rough patch for a short period, right after both of you had completed your Iknimayas, when you tried to distance yourself from him to avoid any rumors. But Neteyam was persistent to keep your friendship, and so he did. Eventually, your feelings for him were pushed to an afterthought, as you had come to terms that Neteyam was never going to choose you. You had made peace with being just his friend, but your heart still sank at the thought that soon enough you will be replaced.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Kiri’s concerned voice caught your attention.
“Sure,” you gulped, forcing a small smile, “Lo’ak is right, it’s not like I didn’t know.”
“Right,” Lo’ak nodded hesitantly.
The siblings exchanged a knowing look. At times, your crush on Neteyam was sweet, entertaining even. But the two of them also got to live the nasty side of an unrequited love through you. Especially Kiri, who had shared the pain of knowing she couldn’t be with someone she loved, often commiserated with you in it.
“Maybe this is a sign for me to start looking too, you know? Find a mate,” your blabbered without a thought, trying to cover any traces of the stinging pain.
“Huh?” Kiri's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she glanced at Lo'ak to see if he was as taken aback as she was. This was new.
You had never expressed the desire to find a mate before. Knowing well that Neteyam did not reciprocate your feelings and there was no point in getting your hopes up, the idea of being with somebody else appeared in your mind quite frequently, you just never voiced it. It was scary, the prospect of settling for someone you loved less, simply because there was no other choice. 
Your parents had often spoken of their own bond, a relationship that began as platonic and it was only natural when they decided to choose each other for their companions. Companions, not lovers. Though your mother had assured you that once they had completed a Tsaheylu, everything changed. That the blessed bond is a connection deeper than love, one that is impossible to ignore after experiencing everything your mate had gone through. So with a heavy heart, you had to accept that one day you might have to face the same fate.
“Y/N, are you sure you’re okay?” Lo’ak stood up from his seat and walked over to you. He placed the back of his palm against your forehead, as if checking for a fever. 
“I am not ill,” you chuckled, shoving him away, “I mean, I’ve known for a long time now that I’ll have to accept the advances of another man at some point. Why dwell on something I can’t have?”
It burned your throat to say the words but it was only the truth, and truth hurt. Kiri and Lo'ak agreed hesitantly with you but were still unsure if you meant it. It was as though you were convincing yourself more than them.
“Oh, Y/N…” Kiri began but Lo’ak was quick to interrupt her. 
“No, don’t do that, Kiri,” he shushed his sister before she could even express how sorry she felt for you, “You’re right, Y/N. Do you have any idea how many of my friends keep asking about you? You should get out there and have some fun, I mean, Txi’pu’s practically turning purple when he sees you.”
“Txi’pu?” you questioned, “Didn’t he tame his ikran at like… twelve?” “Yes, yet the man is flustered by your mere presence,” Lo’ak chuckled, “But he seems like a cool guy, maybe you should give him a chance.”
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“Hey, what’s that about?” Neteyam nudged his brother, staring in the direction where you sat.
The communal dinner was in full swing, right after Lo’ak had given Txi’pu the green light to approach you. You were engrossed in conversation with Kiri, as she nibbled on her food, when Txi’pu gathered up the courage to come up to you and offer you a plate of cut-up fruit.
Lo’ak followed his brother's line of sight and straightened immediately, intrigued by the interaction. He grinned in satisfaction, as he watched you shyly accept the gift.
“Txi’pu is going to ask Y/N out,” Lo’ak explained.
“Poor man,” Neteyam snorted, watching you intently, “She’s clearly not interested.”
Neteyam braced himself, eager to enjoy how you would decline Txi'pu's offer. He had seen you reject advances before with such poise and kindness that the men didn't even realize they were supposed to be offended. It was always amusing to watch. But as he saw you take Txi'pu's hand and stand up, a low growl rumbled in his throat.
“What’s happening?” he questioned with a strained voice.
“Looks like she said yes,” Lo’ak shrugged.
Neteyam shot his brother an angry glare, as if it was entirely his fault, before turning his attention back to you. He watched Txi'pu led you away from the clan, his eyes following the sway of your hips. Eventually, as the two of you disappeared from his line of sight, Neteyam clenched his fists so tightly that the pain from his nails digging into his palms went unnoticed.
He stood up abruptly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the noise surrounding him. The fiery glow of the flames painted him in a crimson hue, adding to his already intimidating demeanor. Lo’ak frowned as he watched his brother walk away.
“Hey, where are you going?” he called out after him, but Neteyam was already gone.
That night, Neteyam laid in his hammock, unable to fall into his usual deep sleep as he gazed up at the starry sky. The distant sound of your laughter reached his ears, and he couldn't tell if it was real or just a figment of his own imagination. He had never felt this way before when you got attention from other men because you never reciprocated it. He wondered what you saw in Txi'pu. Would you be happy with a man like him?
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The next morning, Neteyam returned later than usual from his hunt, his body tired and mind restless from the lack of sleep. As he made his way towards the communal area, his attention was immediately drawn to you, seated with his siblings, engrossed in a conversation that seemed to captivate them. Neteyam felt a surge of energy within him at the mere sight of you talking so animatedly, he couldn’t wait to join and hear what you were saying. Quietly, he slipped in between Lo’ak and Kiri, so as to not disturb you, and his heart dropped upon the realization that the topic of the gathering was your walk with Txi’pu.
“Did he take you somewhere nice afterward?” Kiri asked, grinning.
Neteyam kept his gaze trained on the ground, not wanting to appear to be invested in your babbling about the last night, yet he hung onto every word you spoke. His patience was running thin, Kiri’s tail whacking him on the back with increasing excitement as you shared more details. He clenched his jaw in annoyance.
“We went to the waterfall, the one by the cliffs,” you smiled, “It was very beautiful.”
“Oh, that’s a good spot,” Lo’ak chimed in with a mischievous grin, “Girls are always impressed when I take them there.” 
“Yeah, sure, Romeo,” Kiri rolled her eyes at him.
Neteyam cleared his throat loud enough to catch your attention.
“I think it’s too cliche. The waterfall,” his voice possessed a hint of annoyance, “He clearly hadn’t put much thought into impressing you.”
“No, it totally depends on who’s taking you there,” Kiri argued.
Lo’ak intervened too, and as the two of them went back and forth about it, Neteyam’s eyes locked on yours. He studied you intensely, trying to read whatever was going on in your mind. You seemed pleased with the outcome of the last night, of the time you spent with another man. He wondered if you had truly moved on from him, and he felt a pang of guilt for secretly wishing that you hadn't. You stiffened under his penetrating gaze, sinking deeper into your seat. 
"How was your hunt?" you hoped to shift the conversation away from the uncomfortable tension that had suddenly taken hold.
“Nothing special,” he shrugged, then reached for the pouch on his loincloth, taking something out of it, “Here, I brought this for you.”
Neteyam had made a sweet habit out of bringing you small treasures from his hunts. From simplest rocks to wildflowers, he always admired how you managed to turn them into something beautiful. He thought that the vibrant blue feather he found this morning would look nice braided into your hair.
You accepted it with a smile, admiring the unique pattern. And as he watched you observe it, Neteyam just couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the moment. His usually cheerful expression was clouded with gloominess. He had hoped that you would confide in him about Txi'pu's unwanted advances and ask for his help, but instead, you seemed content with the outcome of the previous night.
“Thank you, Neteyam,” you beamed at him, but he could only manage to give you a faint smile.
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Neteyam tousled the edges of his loincloth, irritation babbling in his chest, tightening so hard from within, he felt like he could snap any second now. His mother’s words, usually held dear to his heart, sounded like an annoying screech, as she went over the same topic: finding a perfect mate. Somebody on whom he could rely on when he becomes the Olo’eyktan, when the responsibilities are too much to handle. That the poor girl, whoever she is, must be prepared for her role in the upcoming few years, and that unlike Neteyam, she didn’t have her whole life to train. So he was being unfair to her by postponing the decision, leaving her no time to adjust.
His grandmother sat silently not too far, hands occupied with work, as she occasionally nodded to agree with Neytiri’s words. There was nothing new about them, it was the same lecture that has been passed down in generations through Mo’at’s lineage. She was sure that one day Neteyam would pass it down to his own children.
“Are you paying attention?” Neytiri asked again, and Neteyam had to nod to convince her that he did, though he stopped listening a long time ago, “She must be strong, resilient. It is important that you choose wisely. I believe you are mature enough not to be fooled by beauty only -”
Y/N was undeniably beautiful. Was he fooled by her appearance? By the way her hair cascaded down her shoulders, those two beaded braids, adorned with some that he had gifted her, framing her face and complementing the yellow of her eyes. By the way her body moved, like the flow of water, gentle and natural, as if every movement was planned out by Eywa herself. He couldn’t deny that sometimes his eyes lingered on her longer than a friend's should. Sometimes, even the way she sat close to him, their thighs pressed against each other and her small delicate shoulder nudging his, could make him too flustered.
“Led not only by her heart but also by her mind,” Neytiri continued.
Surely, you were smart, capable for your age. Neteyam would even dare to say that you were smarter than most of the adults he had known, probably smarter than him too. And you were kind too, with a heart so big that you willingly offered support and loyalty to him, though he had done nothing in return. If it were any other girl, she would have likely cursed him out and refused to acknowledge him for the rest of her life.
“Prepared to protect her clan and her family.”
Would Y/N be a good mate, ready to take on the responsibility of tsakarem? The thought was fleeting but heavy enough to ooze his head with delight. Neteyam took a deep breath to calm himself, feeling overwhelmed by how much the descriptions expanded to you. Neytiri paused, observing him for a moment.
“There is someone already, yes?” she asked, failing to conceal her hopeful tone. 
Neteyam’s eyes snapped back to his mother, as she waited for him to answer. He could only shake his head and mutter an apology before scurrying away. 
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
No, it was wrong. Not after all those years of rejecting your affections, of not noticing when he crossed the lines and you didn't mind, he couldn't just swoop in now. Neteyam had struggled with this thought for many nights since the rumors of you letting Txi'pu court you began to circulate. You would tell him, right? He was your best friend, he had to be the first to know. But then again, it was probably foolish to believe what others had assumed. He had heard you say it to Lo'ak.
"I'm just taking things as they come," you shrugged, seemingly unbothered. Neteyam wished you would give him more of a reaction, so he could make some observations, "I don't think he and I are there yet."
But how could he believe it when he had seen you with Txi'pu repeatedly - the other day, the day after, and yesterday. He had noticed how you accepted the cut-up fruits from the warrior during communal dinners, held his hand, laughed with him - how it all had become somewhat of a habit. Neteyam struggled to maintain his appearances - he’d rather stay hungry than see you leave early with Txi’pu. Why him? The question knitted his eyebrows together in a deep-wrinkled frown, and he turned in his hammock once more, coaxing another annoyed whine from Lo'ak.
"Could you please stop?" his younger brother whispered, trying not to stir the rest of the family.
With sunrise approaching, it seemed unlikely to get any sleep anyway. Neteyam huffed and rose from his hammock, determined that a walk would clear his head. Maybe he was being selfish, greedy to keep you all to himself. But the idea of you being courted by someone else didn’t seem fair, especially when he had rejected everyone, every potential suitor suggested by his mother. Secretly, Neteyam wished that she would say your name, and then he would give her a sign that he wasn’t opposed to mating with you. But was it really unfair? After all, he never really gave you a chance.
His feet carried him away, making a few laps around the village. People were beginning to stir, emerging from their homes to begin their daily chores. Neteyam headed to the camp, intending to start his training early. But he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard your name.
Txi’pu and his friend were standing in front of the training hut, grinning widely and snickering about something. About someone. Neteyam hesitated to reveal himself, but his curiosity got the best of him, and he moved closer, trying to eavesdrop. The camp was beginning to get busy with the morning session, and just when Neteyam heard Txi'pu's malicious words about you, rage surged through him. In a split second, he made a decision. The rest was just as rushed, a heated fight took place between the two men.
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“You, go to Tsahik, now,” Jake ordered to Txi’pu with a scowl, then turned to you with a softened expression, “Y/N, please take care of this knucklehead,” he gestured to his son.
You nodded, hunching slightly, disappointment evident in your demeanor. You weren't sure how you felt when you first saw Neteyam on top of Txi’pu, punching him too hard for it to be considered a part of the training. Luckily, Jake was there, pulling his oldest son away from the other warrior before bigger damage was done.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Neteyam sighed.
“You do not look sorry,” Jake scoffed, “So stop with the lying, and go get cleaned up. We will talk about this later.”
Similar to Neteyam, Txi’pu refused to meet your eyes. He looked guilty, even more so than Neteyam. You wondered what had caused their fight, the thought consuming you so much that you almost missed Neteyam walking away from you. Anger began to bubble up inside you at the lack of information. It wouldn't have surprised you if it were Lo’ak, but Neteyam rarely resorted to using his fists.
“What happened?” you asked again, catching up to Neteyam. 
But he only shook his head, refusing to reveal the reason. As the two of you headed into his family hut, you gently shoved him to sit down and began shuffling through his mother's baskets. You quickly settled on picking out one of the healing balms, the one that usually stung the most. You were furious. For not telling you what had happened, for getting hurt, for attacking Txi'pu; that’s not who he was. Careless, reactive.
“Just say it,” he gritted through his teeth, feeling the cut above his brow throb under your fingers, “I can feel that you’re mad at me.” "You shouldn't have attacked him like that," you replied, your voice laced with irritation. More than anything, you hated when Neteyam got hurt.
“He deserved it.”
"That's not the point," you replied sternly. "This isn't like you. You don't go around punching people."
“Why him?” his voice cut harshly through the air, his amber eyes searching yours desperately, “Out of all people, why would you give yourself to him?”
“What?” you frowned, “I didn’t.”
“Well, that’s what he’s telling everyone,” Neteyam rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t believe you. You shook your head, partly to convince him you were telling the truth, partly denying the fact that he believed somebody else over you.
How could he truly think you would do that? Knowing how much you valued the sacred bond, how could you, a woman he had grown up with and seemed to know through and through, give herself to a man with whom she had spent only a mere of two weeks. Without feelings, or even proper courting? And even if it was true, wasn’t he supposed to support you regardless of what you did? The thought stung, bringing anger into your voice.
“And what if I had given myself to him? It is none of your concern,” you snapped, pulling away from him with a sharpness that left him reeling. Your words were meant to wound, to protect Txi’pu and to strike back at Neteyam, “You had no right to attack him like that.”
“But I had,” he hissed, frustrated with how oblivious you were at reading his actions, “I have every right to make a call, when you can’t.”
“That’s not fair,” you shook your head firmly, as if denying his words, “You don’t get to act possessive over me.”
Neteyam retreated slightly. Did he reveal too much? He had always been aware of the deep-seated feeling in his chest that riled up every time he saw you but had never dared to give it a name. He couldn’t let you recognize it before he’d bring himself to confront it first.
“Do you think I did this for you? I am the future Olo’eyktan, and it is my duty as a leader and a warrior to keep skxawngs like him in tact,” he retorted, his voice dripping with venom, “I am not some lovesick puppy.”
You stared at him in bewilderment, struggling to reconcile this angry, unfamiliar version of Neteyam with the man you thought you knew like the back of your hand. His face was masked with rage, as he took it out on you for a reason that had still remained unclear. ‘Lovesick puppy,’ did he mean you?
"Got it," you spat out.You knew better than this - to trust that he wouldn’t hold your feelings for him against you one day.
“I didn’t mean to -” he regretted immediately, grasping at your hand but you yanked it away from his grip and stormed off.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
“Bro, what’s wrong with you? Dad looked like he was going to skin you,” Lo’ak plopped down next to Neteyam.
The older brother sat defeated on the cliff, feet dangling from the abrupt edge mindlessly. He stared out into the distance, the sun setting over the rainforest. 
“I don’t regret it, Txi’pu is disgusting,” Neteyam spat out, anger still lingering in his voice. 
“What did he do?”
Lo’ak pushed for answers, since the reason for the fight was still unknown. When the fight was broken off in front of the other warriors, Neteyam refused to voice it. He didn’t want to repeat the nasty words spoken by Txi’pu when you were there and embarrass you in front of the others, even worse, he didn’t want to hurt you. Neteyam didn’t care enough to defend himself, didn’t care for the scolding he got from his father after that. Frankly, he didn’t regret attacking Txi’pu at all, drawing blood felt good. But his father pressed, knowing exactly how to prod the words out of his oldest son. Jake decided not to intervene in the matters of your friendship then, he only advised his son to be mature and clean up his own mess. 
“He was saying these things about Y/N, and I couldn’t just let it go,” Neteyam gulped, his fists clenching in anger, “He told his friends that she gave herself to him without a Tsaheylu. That after years of pining for me, he had finally ‘cured’ her... some shit like that.” 
“What an asshole,” Lo’ak sighed, shaking his head.
“Yeah…”
Both brothers sat there for a moment, giving each other the space to process their conversation. The only sounds were the soft rustling of the wind through the vines and the distant calls of the banshees. Eventually, Lo’ak decided to break the silence once more.
“I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it, but you shouldn’t have caused a scene like that. You got yourself into so much trouble.”
“Lo’ak,” Neteyam turned to look at him, a little frustrated, “It was about Y/N. How could I let it slide?”
“No, I know, I agree,” his little brother was quick to raise his palms in the air to show he was still on his side, “I’m just saying, you never act like that. Maybe the jealousy got the better of you.”
“I am not jealous,” Neteyam protested, “I just can’t stand it that she chose to spend time with some asshole and then got herself hurt.”
“It’s her life, she can make her own choices,” Lo'ak placed a comforting hand on Neteyam's shoulder. He could sense that his brother was battling with something deep within himself, that the boundaries were blurring. 
“But he doesn’t deserve her.”
“And you do?” Lo’ak asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“W-what?” Neteyam scoffed, standing up to show he was done with the conversation, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s okay if it took you so long to realize. Just don’t make her wait any longer,” Lo’ak shouted after Neteyam, who was already walking away.
Neteyam's eyes widened with a sudden realization. It was as if Lo'ak's advice had struck the exact spot in his mind that had been bothering him for days, offering a simple solution to his inner turmoil. It was like medicine to his aching soul, and all he had to do was reach out and take it.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
Txi’pu's apology came quickly but lacked any genuine remorse. It was as if he had been forced into it, and by the look on his face, you suspected that he had been, most likely by Jake. The thought of the Olo’eyktan having to waste his time like that and hear about the stupid rumors was humiliating. Neteyam, on the other hand, took his time, letting you cool off, while he would figure out his feelings. Though he hadn’t suspected that the lack of his apology drew a distance between you that you were previously unfamiliar with. He’d steal glances at you during the dinners but that was it. Your best friend, the man you have been in love with, didn’t feel like a safe person anymore. 
He was confused about it too. Couldn't tell if it was just his mind playing tricks on him, or if he was genuinely blind to how much he used to relish in your presence. He gazed from afar with a longing look as you sat, looking pretty as ever. Your eyebrows were knitted in a gentle frown, eyelids halfway closed, as you huffed air out of your plump lips. He couldn't help but steal another glance in your direction, as he watched your head pull back with a loud whimper, your mother's hands quickly braiding another section of your hair, gripping tightly as you struggled to keep your neck straight. It would almost make him laugh at the way you reacted to pain, if he hadn't been so distracted by how pretty you looked.
“Stop gawking,” Lo’ak nudged him with an eye roll, “Just apologize already. It’s been days.”
Neteyam shook off his distracting thoughts, but the knife he was supposed to be sharpening remained as blunt as his mind, struggling to keep up with whatever Lo'ak was saying to him.
He wished he could just go back in time and stop himself from lashing out at you, from taking his frustrations out on the one person he cared about the most. He regretted pressing on the wound in your heart that had been bleeding for him for years, hurting you in the place where it hurt the most. The distance between you two had become unbearable, but he couldn't bring himself to close it. It felt different this time. Throughout all the years of your friendship, you had never fought like this. You had always been there for each other, through thick and thin. Misunderstandings were usually quickly resolved with sincere apologies. But the venomous words that had spilled out of him due to jealousy had stung like no other, ‘I am not some lovesick puppy.’
“Lo’ak,” Neteyam’s voice quievered, “Can you talk to her for me? She might listen to you.”
“Really, dude?” Lo’ak raised an eyebrow at him, “You want me to apologize for you?”
“No, I don't want you to apologize for me,” Neteyam frowned, already getting irritated, “Just make her talk to me, please.”
“Fine, but you owe me,” Lo’ak stood up abruptly, with a huff. Neteyam’s eyes widened at his sudden movement.
“Wait, are you going right now?”
Lo'ak gave a nonchalant shrug as he glanced in your direction, still seated in front of your mother. Neteyam thought it would be too humiliating to watch his brother beg for your attention while he was right there. You would think him as pathetic, a mighty warrior afraid to approach his friend of fifteen years.
“But she’s busy,” Neteyam's voice trailed off, eyes following as Lo’ak jogged over to you.
He watched the way Lo’ak greeted your mother with respect and earned a kind smile from her. You took your time to grant him your attention, tail swishing lazily from side to side, while Lo’ak made small talk. Neteyam stiffened once your eyes landed on him with a newfound harshness. He had never seen it from you before, and he could feel his heart sink in his chest. 
What was Lo’ak telling you? Neteyam strained his ears to try to catch some of the conversation, but the soft murmur of your voices made it impossible. All he could do was pray that the little shrug you gave was meant to be for him, a chance to let him explain himself.
“I will be tracking a Vayätu after the eclipse. If he wants to apologize, he can help me first,” Lo’ak relayed your message to Neteyam.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
Your ears perked up at the faint rustling sound, eyes already scanning the area, hunched over from behind the thick bushes. The mysterious spell was casted over the forest with the presence of Vayätu, a creature just as ethereal as it appeared. You felt it was near, just like Eywa, lingering somewhere in the dark. The bioluminescent shimmered over its sleek iridescent fur, concealing the creature, but the two sets of prominent yellow eyes stood out in the densest part of the forest.
Among your clan, Vayätu was one of the most valuable creations of Eywa. An animal rarely shown in the forests of Pandora, that despite its incredible speed and agility, was delicate, easy to scare away. Its only defense was disappearing into the foliage, blending with the surroundings. If a Vayätu got hurt once, it would never return to the same area. 
Then there was the medicine that came with it. Deep within its long neck, the creature had a gland producing thick, viscous substance highly prized for its medicinal property, used to ease the pain for treating big wounds, or fed to women before giving birth. Retracting the liquid wasn’t harmful to the animal, similar to the way your eyes would produce tears when crying, but there was a certain routine to it. Requiring at least two hunters, one of which would hold the animal down, while the other one would gather the substance. 
You stiffened immediately, hand reaching for your leather rope - a signal for Neteyam to prepare for the attack. Simple. You had done this before once, worked perfectly together, and then couldn’t stop laughing as the adrenaline rushed through your blood, jumping through the trees to hurry back home and announce your victory. But it seemed like at that moment, as he was kneeling beside you staring up at your profile, Neteyam had forgotten everything he knew. The apology, along with the confession he had been crafting carefully for days now, were ready on the tip of his tongue. He had to wait for the right moment.
Your skin was adorned with bioluminescent freckles that resembled a star constellation, just like the ones he used to stare at with his father on clear nights. Your eyes glowed softly, narrowed as if concentrating on something in the distance, and Neteyam was too distracted to pick up on it. He had seen you many times from many angles before, yet he couldn't help but be captivated by the way you tensed up, the definition of your lean, delicate arms, and the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed quietly and steadily.
Neteyam was so entranced by the way your body moved that he didn't notice when you jumped forward, your form confident as you chased a shadow. His attention was quickly drawn to the two sets of yellow eyes piercing through the darkness, before disappearing in an instant. He realized that he had missed the signal to attack first.
The forest came alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and cracking branches, as you ran after the Vayätu, hot on its tail. But the extra set of legs gave the creature an advantage, it was faster, putting a prominent distance between you. Frustration bubbled within you at the realization that you were alone in the chase. Where the hell was Neteyam? You were not set for this; speed wasn’t your strength. That was Neteyam’s part, you were better at sneaking. 
“Neteyam!” you called out loudly, snapping him out of his thoughts.
You pushed harder, heart racing, as you refused to let the creature out of your sight, because once you did, you would never see it again. Neteyam caught up then, quick on his feet, as he articulated through the trees. He felt guilty for getting distracted, he had to prove himself to be helpful for you.
You, you, you. You were all that filled his mind. With determination, Neteyam lunged forward, his lean muscular body fluidly navigating through the dense undergrowth of the forest. His eyes remained fixated on the Vayätu up head, never losing sight of his target as he closed in on the ethereal creature. With a sudden burst of speed, he leaped towards it, his arms outstretched as he managed to tackle it to the ground.
You were still a few paces behind, your blood pumped with adrenaline, as you watched the scene unfold. Quickly, while Neteyam was still holding the animal down, you dropped to your knees right next to them. 
“Where the hell have you been?” you hissed angrily, your eyes already darting all over the trembling creature.
“I’m sorry, I got distracted,” he mumbled. You only shook your head, dismissing his apology.
Elderly often instructed young hunters to calm their prey, make them feel safe and connected to Eywa. Following their advice, you reached to gently stroke the creature’s neck, whispering soft prayers to soothe its fear. Neteyam’s gaze was glued to you, as if something intimate and intricate was happening, something that only the two of you could comprehend.
“Okay, get ready to apply more pressure,” you warned, before taking out your wooden flask, crafted out of the root of the Home Tree.
Neteyam only nodded, watching the way you worked. The creature trembled under your touch, but his grip was unyielding, letting you collect the precious liquid and gently store it away. With a pat on his arm, you signaled for him to release the animal. Neteyam leaned back, panting heavily as the Vayätu sprang to its feet, shaking its head and snorting in frustration before darting away into the darkness.
Both of you stood up and remained quiet for a moment, as he wiped away the sweat and grime clinging to his skin. You were too covered in dirt, body exhausted from the chase. Yet, the triumph took over you once the realization that you had been successful settled in. A small smile crept onto your face.
"Nice work," you spoke quietly, “Even though you almost snoozed.”
He chuckled weakly, a little embarrassed. Amber eyes scanned your face, tracing the now smudged patterns of yellow paint. 
“Let’s wash off,” he offered.
The tension slipped right back in and hung heavily between the two of you, as you walked ahead, letting Neteyam trail after you. Navigating through the dark forest was easy, you had taken this way to the pond many times before. There was no need to check if Neteyam was still following, you knew he was. He wouldn’t let this opportunity slide, not after sending Lo’ak to talk to you. You weren’t going to deny it - you missed Neteyam terribly, and a part of you had hoped that the apology would be sincere enough to soothe the pain left by his words. 
The water was still under the shimmering moonlight, creating a perfect mirror of its surroundings. You carefully removed your belt, ensuring that the items in the pouch didn't spill, and placed it on the ground. Neteyam followed your lead and quietly put down his weapons.
“You wanted to talk,” you began first, the harshness returning to your voice.
Sure, it was disappointing, the way things turned out with Txi’pu. You couldn’t help but pity yourself for being played by the first guy you decided to give a chance to. The thought of him holding your hand now seemed disgusting, sent shivers down your spine. But it was easy to dismiss it because for the past week, the sting left from Neteyam’s words was much worse. You wanted it to go away, desperately.
“Y/N… I am so sorry, I truly am,” Neteyam took a long breath, forcing you to look at him, “I wish I could take back everything I said.”
"Don't apologize if it's how you really feel, Neteyam," you replied, your voice catching in your throat. "I just wish I had known sooner, so I would stop acting like a ‘lovesick puppy’ around you."
“No, no, I didn’t mean it,” he raised his palms in the air, as if to stop you, “I didn’t even think. I only spoke out of jealousy.”
“Jealousy?” you scoffed in disbelief. Did he really try to lie his way into forgiveness? “Why would you ever be jealous?”
Neteyam sighed and took a few steps closer to you. Almost too close. Of course, as friends, you had been even at a closer approximation before, but there was something different about it now. Too intimate, like no one else was supposed to see it. Your eyes flickered up to his face.
"Because you gave a chance to somebody else, and... I hated it," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing you hold his hand instead of mine, laugh at his jokes, accept his gifts...it hurt me, more than I care to admit. Do you understand?"
You blinked in confusion, though your heart raced at the mere possibility that he was hinting at what you had hoped for a long time. Neteyam waited for you to answer his question, but when you opened your mouth to speak, no words came out. Then you felt him reach for your hand, long fingers intertwining delicately with yours. Goosebumps covered your skin in an instant.
“Every time my parents talked about choosing a mate, I got frustrated because all I could see was your face… you by my side. And I was so confused, I didn’t know what it meant back then, but now I do,” words spilled out of him with sincerity, “I like you more than a friend, Y/N. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.” “’s better late than never, right?” you attempted a faint smile with a croaky voice, though your heart was racing like crazy.
Then, as he leaned in, every thought seemed to wash away, and all you could focus on was him.
“Can I just..?” he trailed off, his arms open for you.
You nodded, stepping into his embrace. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply, savoring your scent. He had missed you so much and had been dreaming of holding you in his arms ever since the fight. All he wanted was to keep his arms around you, both gentle and strong at the same time. And sweet like honey, his voice dripped.
“I see you, Y/N.”
You pulled away, searching for his face.
“Can I kiss you?” his voice trembled like a leaf on a windy day, and your own heart skipped a beat at the question. 
You could only stare back, frozen, as Neteyam’s fingers brushed hesitantly against your face. He leaned in and waited for you to push him away, but once he was sure you wouldn’t, his lips ghosted over yours. A beat, and with a shaky breath, he pulled you closer. You surrendered to the feeling immediately, hands finding their way to his chest, trying to touch, feel every part of him, just to convince yourself this was real. With a soft gasp, your tongues intertwined, his taste like honey, sweet and intoxicating, marked you as his own.
The kiss broke, foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "I should have waited for your permission."
You shook your head weakly, unable to form any coherent thoughts. All you knew was that you wanted more.
"Don't be sorry," you nuzzled his face with your own, "I...I wanted this for a long time."
Neteyam felt like his heart couldn’t take it anymore. He was lightheaded, intoxicated by you. By the way your lips tasted, by your scent, by the feeling of your hands on him. He kissed you again, more desperately this time, pushing you back slightly, stepping into the the pond. You followed him without a word, the water lapping at your ankles.
The water was cool around you, causing a shiver down your spine, though you weren’t sure, maybe it was just Neteyam. He pulled you closer, dipping the two of you into the water half to your waist. There was only one thing on his mind - he needed to take care of you, wash away the stress and the tiredness he had caused, and make up for it with his love. 
You closed your eyes, surrendering yourself to his embrace, as he began to run his hands over your back, gently massaging your shoulders and arms. Some of the water he cupped had dripped over your back, relaxing away all of the tension in your body. You could feel yourself leaning onto him more, as if your knees were ready to give out any second now.
Neteyam’s hands continued to roam all over your body, exploring every curve he never had the chance to touch before. Everything that he had dreamed about was right there, under the pads of his fingers. He scooped another handful of water, bringing it to your face this time, washing away the dirt and the traces of paint off your face. You let out a sigh of pleasure, when his thumb grazed the blue stripe over your cheekbone. 
His hands then strayed lower and lower, found their way to your hips and lingered there. He couldn’t move, thumbs pressed into your skin, leaving hot traces. You could feel the heat building in your chore, the desire in his eyes was undeniable. Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you again, his tongue probing gently at your lips. You opened your mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss, and you felt a rush of heat flow through your body.
“Neteyam…” you sighed softly, your hands reaching for his loincloth, tugging at it weakly.
“Yes?” he asked, as he dipped his head to kiss your neck.
“I want you,” you managed to let out, hand reaching lower to stroke over his length. He pressed into your palm with a groan.
“I want you too,” he planted another kiss to your neck, “But we have to wait…”
“What? No,” you shook your head weakly.
“Mhm, yes… I have to court you first,” he spoke in between short breaths he took, mouth never leaving that sensitive spot on your neck, “Do it properly. Earn your affections.”
“Neteyam, you know you had me all this time,” you chuckled weakly.
His chest heaved as he pulled away slightly, his hands still cradling your cheeks. He looked deeply into your eyes, a small smile curling his lips as he studied your flushed face for a moment.
“I want to do this right, Y/N, will you let me?” he asked softly, like he had already planned out the whole thing in his head.
Butterflies churned in your stomach, and you nodded, your own lips stretching into a lovesick grin. He planted another gentle kiss on your forehead.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
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6K notes · View notes
spacedace · 9 months
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Had a dc x dp brain worm, feel free to use as a prompt <3
Sidenote, I decided to get fancy with the Ancients titles because of course I did lol
Shifting Where = Space (Danny)
Eternal When = Time (Clockwork)
Ever Onward = Speedforce (Ellie)
---
Bruce watched the footage again.
And again.
Again.
It didn’t make sense.
A week ago every television, radio, computer, phone - even the LED billboards - had been taken over to deliver a message. Across the United States. In every territory it held. Every military base. Down in the depths of the oceans where American submarines tried to creep past Atlantian patrols. In the endless cold white of Antarctica. Even far above in the International Space Station. Any place the United States Government had control over, any place one of its citizens found themselves. There was the message.
The face of an entity, human in shape but not in form. Hair as gleaming white as starlight, eyes bright as the twisting dance of the Aurora Borealis, skin as cold and blue as the tail of a comet. The entity wore armor as black as the depths of space with a crown to match, the later glinting and shifting with the twisting birth and death of galaxies. A cloak of nebulae danced down his shoulders, eclipsing the world beyond the entity entirely.
He named himself, jaw tight, expression serious.
High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms.
The Shifting Where. Son of the Eternal When. Father of the Ever Onward. His Epitaphs many and ever growing. The True Balance. The Bridge Between. The Devourer of Dark. The Last Child of Between. The Great One.
King of the Dead. King of the Infinite Worlds. King of so much more than Bruce had ever even known was possible.
King who had declared war. Who marshaled his endless armies. Who spoke of warnings, of efforts to reach a peace, of trying again and again and again to find a way to not plunge into violence and bloodshed. All things living come to call him King in time, he had no want or need to go out and hurry that along. But there were no options left to him now. He had tried for peace. He had been denied.
He would not see his people suffer any longer. Would not see those he’d sworn to lead and protect imprisoned by fools who had sworn themselves enemies to all the afterlives. Would no longer permit the vicious cruelty to continue.
The message was a final warning.
A final offer.
Three days, Phantom said. The United States government would have three days to release their prisoners, to begin the process of dismantling the laws that made death itself an illegal act.
If they refused, he would lead his endless armies personally in the war to come.
It had not been an idle threat.
Three days after the message, after Bruce and the rest of the Justice League scrambled to try and figure out just what it was it was all about, after Justice League Dark’s members shakily took turns explaining just how powerful the being that had gave that message was and how much danger the world was in should he and his armies march upon their world, war came.
Of all places, it began in a town in Illinois.
The sky shattered like broken glass above, Lazarus Green beyond, and the Dead poured out.
It started in Illinois.
It did not end there.
Bruce watched the footage of it all, eyes burning as he watched every second of CCTV footage, every shaky phone camera video, every news broadcast.
Most of them looked human enough. Changed in death, but recognizably human once. A pair of glowing teenagers on a motorcycle, a writhing shadow twisting about at their command sweeping chaos upon the battlefield. A young woman dressed to perform with hair a literal flame, burning bright blue and snapping furiously as she played devastation upon her enemies with her guitar. A child with corpse gray skin and luminescent green hair, flickering in and out of Bruce’s ability to see as if fighting against a law of existence to be visible, screaming orders to a skeleton crew from his place on deck of a 1700s ship that sailed through the sky, disappearing into clouds before raining down attacks from above.
There was more. Glowing skeletons dressed in the fashions of war spanning every culture going back millennia. Robots with weapons far beyond the technology they had even in the League. Creatures of myth and legend. Things of nightmares.
Leading them all, as he had promised, was Phantom.
He looked younger, smaller. Just a boy, really, a gangly teenager that hadn’t quite finished growing into himself. One holding power beyond anything Bruce could ever imagine, but still just a child as far as he could see, no older than Tim who’d just graduated high school. Frantic research found Phantom appearing as far back as human history, but those sightings had to have been after his death. Bruce can’t help but wonder how young the boy had been when he died, how much of that youth still clung to him through all these eons.
It wasn’t something he’d let him self consider normally, not with something like this.
A dangerous unknown appearing without warning and attacking with unimaginable power and seemingly endless forces. It was something that would normally eclipse everything else. Something that would make Bruce put aside the ache at seeing a face so young twisted in rage.
But.
He watched all the footage.
Civilians were put in the crossfire. Were shot at and endangered. Were left terrified and scrambling for safety in buildings that were rapidly being torn away by stray artillery.
But never by Phantom or his armies.
The dead, in fact, went very far out of their way to ensure civilians weren’t harmed. Sweeping people up out of the way of falling debris. Shielding them from attacks that would have most certainly killed a normal human. Some dead even helped evacuate, ushering a frightened and panicked populous to safety as gently as they were capable of. Some of the less human creatures - giant bear-like beings with horns and fangs and ice edging their burly frames - even rushed forward to offer medical aid.
When the sky shattered open and the armies of the dead swept in, they ignored the town below. They focused instead on what was discovered later to be the base of a secretive government agency. The dead’s fight focused on those individuals in sharp white suits, bearing weapons capable of actually injuring King Phantom’s people.
It was these agents that brought the fight to the streets to Amity Park. That fired recklessly and without thought or care to the casualties they could inflict. That didn’t seem to care if they killed a hundred civilians if it meant hurting just one of Phantom’s soldiers.
Bruce watched all the footage.
And again.
Again.
Phantom had declared war.
Phantom spoke in his message of being out of options, of attempting peace. Phantom gave three days time for the release of captives. Phantom lead armies who fought viciously but never once willingly harmed civilians.
Phantom declared war, but he didn’t want it.
“Amanda Waller has reached out.”
Bruce didn’t turn his attention from the screens before him, eyes burning as he followed Phantom as the King dove away from the middle of locked combat to shield a child from a pulse of green energy from something like a grenade another agent in white had carelessly thrown. The child was crying but unharmed. The left pauldron of Phantom’s armor cracked and shattered from a direct shot from the enemy he’d just been fighting that he’d turned his back on, a glowing green liquid uncomfortably like Lazarus Water dripped down from a smoldering wound.
Clark stepped up to stand beside him as he watched, face worn and tired. The League had missed the first battle, but they’d been quick to appear at the rest. Phantom and his army ignored them unless they put themselves purposefully in the way of the fight. They were, as Justice League Dark had warned, vastly out powered by the entities fighting. A hulking giant knight made of shadow riding a nightmarish steed had driven Clark six feet down into the dirt when he’d attempted to make his way to Phantom directly to try and talk to the king.
The depth Clark had ended up felt like a warning of what would happen if he tried to get close to the king again.
It probably was.
“She said they have intel for us.” A faint twitch of fingers, jaw clenching, voice flat in that way that told Bruce his old friend was fighting back anger with everything he had. “That she has options for how to deal with the insurgence.”
Bruce shut off the monitors.
He’d seen enough.
Now was time to get answers to just what, exactly, Amanda Waller and the US government had done to cause the Dead to rise and rage.
---
Part Two Part Three Part Four
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loaksbitch · 1 year
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originally jake sully written but made a neteyam ver. let's go let's go.
warnings - size kink, tummy bulging, spitting, breast play kinda, getting your hands held behind you, toruk makto neteyam is enough to be a freaking warning yes? riding, whiny and crying oc, neteyam whimpers like once of twice if you squint, mean neteyam turns to soft neteyam at the end
this is roughly 2k y'all, so idk what to feel about it! reblog + likes are appreciated and not pressured, i love each and every one of you!! mwah. 20ish toruk makto!neteyam
“i’ll make it fit” — neteyam sully ver. (⨳)
you’re finally satisfied with your work, twirling around with a smile. the leaves you made as a sexy cloth that barley covered your body didn’t fail you as you feel something if you churn at the thought of greeting your mate with this
neteyam would be back by the eclipse from the war party and you just can’t wait to show him off about your new creations.
the glowing leaves allover your chest and ghosting your nipples as they reflect their light on your blue striped soft skin. and there’s a web like cloth covering you down there that clearly shows the jewels between your leg.
as the night came on, you couldn’t help but feel nervous and insecurity starts to sip in you.
what if he doesn’t like it? what if he’ll laugh at you? what if— enough! you try to focus on your breath. “it’s gonna turn out good.” you comfort yourself. your ears suddenly perk when you catch a familiar footsteps getting near and near to the hammock you share with your mate and decide to hide quickly
meanwhile you’re hidden, neteyam couldn’t keep feeling instant worries when he didn’t see you at the welcoming session. were you sick? he tried to ask your friends but they just shrugged and said they didn’t see you the whole day
neteyam admits he was pretty excited to see you and waited for you to shower him with kisses to make him feel better and less stressed but no, you weren’t even there.
it was dark when he entered the hammock and frowned, the candles were blown out and everything is neatly set. “princess?” neteyam’s voice was calculated with worries. “i’m home, where are you?”
you’re nervously shuffling from one foot to another. “baby if this is one of your jokes you know i’m tir–“ neteyam’s words get stuck when you come to view. at first he was about to load his gun but the feminine and petite body of yours appears in front of him and your man’s breath hitched at the sight of you
your braids were undone and flawlessly splayed allover your shoulders, his eyes are trained down your body and neteyam curses under his breath as his cock stirs and twitches. the valley between your chest and your two swelled breast shown under the glowing leaves you’re wearing
then his eyes go down to your hip curves and small waist and finally to your thighs that he wants to be choked with. “ma ‘teyam.” your sexy voice makes his ears flatten and he closes his eyes. “fuck princess, what’re you supposed to be doing right now?”
you shyly glance behind him then at him. your eyes widen when the equipments are harshly thrown to the side on the hammock mat and neteyam is walking to you with a burning lust in his eyes
“i’ll just tak…” neteyam’s teeth clash to yours as he shuts you up with toe curling kiss. you can’t even form a word when he’s pulling you by your cheeks and neck desperate to have more of you. you turn your head to the side to take a breath but neteyam takes the chance to leave wet kisses on your neck as he bites and licks the spot, marking you in ways that makes you sigh.
“you didn’t come to welcome me baby,” he says before pressing his forehead to yours while you two take deep breathes from the kiss you’ve shared. “i was searching for you” he slightly pouts making you guilty
“sorry baby, i had to make a welcoming present for you.” he hums with a smile plastered on his face. “this is the best gift ever.” he leans to kiss you as he bends slightly and grip onto your thighs
“jump, pretty girl.” you only giggle before jumping to your mate’s hold. he starts to kiss you and you devilishly mess with his hair. you run your hands through it and grip on his locks hard making neteyam moan into your mouth.
as your body settles to the thick mat of the hammock and neteyam pushes your legs open to settle himself in between them, you start to feel a little too insecure. “i’ve dreamt of this for so long baby, you’ve no idea.” you gulp when he continues
“having you under me, on top of me, in every fucking position with this glowing like loincloth you made allover you.” he tells you softly, his lips pressed on the corner of your lips.
you try to sit up and go along with his kiss but neteyam leans back and pushes you back to the mat, making you huff out. you’re watching every move of his when he starts to trail kisses on your chest.
“nete, jus–“
you moan when his mouth engulfs your perked nipple with his warm mouth and sucks gently. “neteyam, ma ‘teyeam…” you sigh, tiny hands returning to his locks. his other hand is holding the glowing leaves that were covering your breast out of the way before starting to massage your breast well and let your nipple roll between his fingers.
it felt so good that had you arching your back, chest pressing to his face. neteyam leaves your nipple with small ‘pop’ sound and watches how his saliva reflects to glowing leaves lights on your nipple. “stay still baby.” he shifts his attention to the other nipple and starts to slowly tug it with his teeth before putting his whole mouth onto your nipple
“oh eywa!” you sigh.
“princess?” you’re gasping when he’s on top of you and gently smiling. “i want you to touch me too, i want you to show me how i make you feel with your hands, yeah?” you’re only able to nod while your mate is fully clothed and you’re almost naked
“good girl.”
you feel him start to trail a kiss down your stomach a to your navel. once he was in front of your web like fabric that’s covering your pussy, he closes his eyes and takes a breath before using his teeth to slide off the web like loincloth from your body.
you can imagine how his erected cock is begging to be free and looking for attention.
neteyam used his hand to rip off the fabric that’s being a wall from getting what he wanted and deep growl from he chest haves when he sees your arousal creating a thin line and connected to the fabric. oh how he wanted to devour you so bad
the thing is removed from your legs and thrown to the side and neteyam presses your legs wider to see your folds slowly open and your clit throb. oh how your scent is driving him nuts. “you’re so wet.” he says and you’re about to talk before he wraps his mouth on your clit and starts to suck. hard.
“NETEYAM!” you cry out, half of your body jolting up when he tugs on your clit with his teeth. you feel him take a long sniff and moan before plunging his tongue to your hole. “oh mother,” your long moan makes his ego boost and he keeps lapping your juices
your hands are on his locks now, tugging hard and grinding him onto your pussy, but his glare was telling you he wants to drag you there by himself.
your hips risen and gets pressed down with your mate’s large palm below your navel. “let me make you cum.” was the only thing he said before ruining you. his nose grinding onto your throbbing clit while he laps your arousal clean with his tongue fucking you deep.
“ngh..!” you’re now pushing his head away but one strong hand grabs yours and throws it to the side. he’s getting frustrated when you keep pushing him away from making you happiest woman alive.
your chest having up and down was a sign to tell him you’re almost there, and neteyam grins in the middle of tongue fucking you. “that’s it baby, cum for me. cum for your ‘teyam.” and you let go.
back arched, you let go of the bubble in your stomach.
neteyam? he’s so mesmerized by your state and how you’re gushing his face had him completely bricked up right now.
neteyam crawls the mat until he’s your face level and your cheeks redden from the sight. his lips and chin is glistening from your release that shines from the light directly coming out from the moon. neteyam used his arm to wipe your arousal from his face.
he didn’t waste anytime as he unties his loincloth and throw it to the side. your inside clenches at the sight of your man’s cock as it sprang and slaps his stomach before bouncing at the freedom.
it’s veiny and you can’t help but moan when neteyam uses his own hands to bring his cock down and palm himself. “so fucking sexy you are.” he tells you as he stares to your soul, “you drive me insane, everything about you… drives me insane.” he whines when his thumb gilded over his own slit.
“shit, need to be inside you.” at his words you spread your legs wide but frown when neteyam shook his head and got out from in between your legs. “where are you going?” he wasn’t even going anywhere
your confused state follows his actions and neteyam lies beside you on his back and turns to you, tapping you thigh. “c’mere” he pulls you to him and your eyes widen understanding his request. “n-no.” you’re only ignored before you feel yourself being pulled and sat on him.
you’re now straddling him as you’re sat right above his blue throbbing cock. “you’re gonna be so deep like this” you say trying to change his mind but your words only turn him on. “mhm, it’s gonna be okay.”
“‘teyam, it won’t fit…” you persist and try to get up but neteyam pulls you down. “i’ll make it fit.” your inside clenches. “oh,” your mouth opens for a loud moan when neteyam squeezes your ass and split them for his hard and angry tip to enter you.
“swallow me just like that, fuck yeah baby.” you winch every second you welcome him inside you. it’s not like you guys haven’t had sex recently, you both did fuck yesterday morning but he’s so big you’ve to readjust him and take him well every time he fucks in to yo-
“neteyam!” you gasp out when he thrusts upward and chuckles when you slap his chest hard. “you’re so slow, princess and i told ya i need to be inside you.” you whimper when he runs his hand up to your thighs and hips then waist and grips you right there.
you feel his girth kiss the opening of your cervix and your toes curl. “that’s it baby, relax for me” you’re taking deep breath and your man feels your walls relax around him. “arch your back and ride me.” he deadpans
you nod, eyes wide and adjust yourself on top of him enough to lean and use the wooden drawer behind him as a leverage but you instantly let a sharp scream out them neteyam ruts to you up again but this time harder
“nuh-uh princess.” he licks his lips and sighs in between strangled moan. “i said back arched.” his brows are knitted and his face serious. “need you to ride me with your back arched.”
you’re about to curse him before he raise an eyebrow as a warning.
you lick your lips and decide to be a good girl by arching you back and using your hands to support you by placing them on his chest. you’re slow but start to move your hips and neteyam nods while moaning
“yeah that’s it my girl, fuck me just like that.” you can’t even say a word at his praising that are like a pat on your head. your unintentional clench only pushes him to the edge every time you’re moving on top of him.
“you’re so tight.” he tells you with a breathless moan as you raise up and kneel before sinking down his length. “mhm,” you both moan. you’re shuddering above him with every move you make and you try to lean in to him.
“back arched, fuck me back arched princess” he repeats, he’s so gonna be the death of you.
you’re too unfocused to hear him and eventually lean. “fucking little brat.” neteyam hisses before bringing his body up and kneeling as you’re sat on his strong thighs while he’s inside you
you feel him bring both of your hands to your back and holds them both with one hand while the other lands on your waist and pushes you to his chest. you’re now bent in half, breast pressed to him and hands held behind you
you close your eyes tight when you feel neteyam so much deeper than before and you’re sure you can feel your tummy bulged out with his cock like that.
“look at me.”
you didn’t think twice before opening your yellow eyes and look straight to his. “not gonna tell you again or imma have to break you alright?” his tone is serious. “you ride me with your back arched got it?” you’re awfully silent but yelp as he tugs your hands that’s behind you
“yes!” you gasp but he wasn’t buying your whining self. “yes what?” he huffs “yes! yes sir” your forehead is sweating and you let a relieved sigh out when he loosens his grip on yours but doesn’t completely lets you go
with your back arched, you start to bounce on his dick and hear him mutter sweet nothings to your ear. “ma ‘teyam”, you’re whimpering at this point, tears threatening to fall.
you moan while neteyam leans and boldly licks your mouth and starts to thrust, wildly moving his hips. “n-no wait don’t move!”
you’re trying to free your hand to push him away but neteyam only tightens his hands on your small ones. “trying to escape now, are we?” his chest roars with a chuckle. “you think i’ll let you go right after you greet me with that slutty cloth of yours?” you feel him nudge your nose with his.
“mhm?” you shake your head, “no s-sir…oh mother eywa!” you keep gasping for air while neteyam keeps kissing you. you try to turn your face away from him but his one hand comes to grip your jaw at a place. “stop turning away from my love to you.” he’s so romantic yet wicked.
neteyam ruts to you while ruining you and he leans back to see where you both are connected, your skin slapping and squelching sound helps him get near his orgasm. with one last look at your face, neteyam sucks onto his own mouth and collect a glob of spit
you’re whining messy when his spit directly hits your exposed clit, “ma ‘teyam...” you cry out and by the sound you’re letting out and your erratic movement he knew you’re close
“let it out, baby.” he smiles as he fucks into you. “cum for me” you wanted to tell him at least to stop when you’re cumming but his tortures can’t even let you think of a word, your brain is completely mushed.
you gush out on his cock and neteyam throws his head back when he feels you milk him good. “oh fuck fuck fuck i’m close.”
you watch him with blurry eyes and black dots covering your vision as your body keeps jolting.
“tell me you love me baby.” his harsh breath hits your lips when he pressed his forehead against yours. “tell me you love me so fucking much hm?”
“i- i lov…i love you” you’re gasping for air and neteyam closes his eyes a happy smile stretching his lips. “i love you more, i love you so fucking much” you feel his hand that was holding your hand being you let’s you go and you instantly wrap your hands on his neck
“‘m sorry i hurt you princess.” neteyam says, tucking your hair behind your ear and you just nod too tired to talk back. “i’m gonna cum” his eyes flatten and he whispers. “cum for me” you tell him and he obeys
it was his last push when you said that word and neteyam shoots ropes of cum inside you. “you’re tiny and adorable when you struggle against me” he growls trying to recover from his orgasm
“and you looked beautiful tonight.” you giggle and shy yourself away from him. “hm, no look at me when i tell you how amazing you’re.” he kisses your nose.
“i love you” he whispers still inside you. “i love you too.” you kiss him.
neteyam rolls his eyes at your confession, “don’t say ‘too’ it feels like you’re just agreeing with me to feel good.” he’s so dramatic sometimes, “fine, i love you more.” neteyam suddenly gives you a hard thrust and you whine. “‘teyam i’m sore!” you tell him
“hm, sorry but i love you most and you know that.”
you don’t fight back at this point, you just agree and tell him to clean you up and go to bed.
sprinkles pandora’s holy water on y’all thirsty bitches out there who’s twinning with me 👯‍♂️
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candy-heart-brew · 1 month
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I've seen some fans theorize that the lyrics to "Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight" tie into Frank's developing relationship with Eddie, potentially foreshadowing a grisly end for a favorite mailman. The lyrics are incredibly emotional and poor Frank sounds like he's fighting back tears during this entire record, making it feel like there's something more going on under the surface. While it's entirely possible that this is meant to foreshadow Frank and Eddie eventually being separated, I think the song's symbolism could be pointing to a different direction...
I touched a bit on this in a different post but to summarize: the attitude that Frank displays during "Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight" is completely at odds to his reaction to Eddie at the party. During BaBaG he's sad but resigned to fate, he knows that hibernation is inevitable but takes a bit of comfort in the knowledge that it's only temporary and that his loneliness will only last through winter. So, he does his best to power through, keep his personal feelings out of it, and assure his little friends that he'll be alright.
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By contrast, his reaction to Eddie's behavior at the party is one of panic and confusion. He doesn't understand what's happening to Eddie or why he's suddenly gone unresponsive, he just knows that he isn't acting like himself at all and he can't accept that. He refuses to leave Eddie alone even after being ignored, continuing to push until he gets a response, at which point he immediately realizes something is wrong and tries to push further, only stopping when Eddie leaves. At this point in the story they don't appear to be especially close but Frank's terrified reaction speaks volumes about his true feelings for Eddie. And if this is how he reacts to him being quieter than usual, I can't imagine that he'd be much calmer or more composed in the event of losing Eddie altogether. IMO, he's far more likely to get angry and demand answers rather than wax poetic. So while "Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight" could potentially foreshadow Eddie's fate, Frank's subdued reaction makes me question that interpretation. I do think there's a deeper meaning to BaBaG, that Frank is singing about something other than bugs, just not Eddie. But then who? Well, as we found out in this last update, bugs are not the only creatures in the neighborhood that hibernate...
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Think about it for a moment- Julie is going to be gone for months, leaving Frank all alone without his best friend. Who's going to invite him to games now? Who's going to listen to him about his interests and laugh at his jokes? Who's going to bake gelatin monstrosities with him? Julie is practically his other half so to lose her for months on end must be very difficult for him! He knows that she can't help it and he doesn't blame her but that hardly makes it any easier. All he can really do now is just push that sadness down, wish her goodnight, and wait for her to return.
Under this interpretation, certain lyrics in BaBaG take on a different meaning to me. Lines like "I know it's for the best, I can't keep you," or "I'll be the first to tell you, you just can't stay," could imply an oncoming rift between the two of them. The recent updates have implied that Frank and Julie were written to be a couple and were perceived as such in-universe. We don't yet know how the two of them felt about that but we do know that they were very close to the point of doing basically everything together! But now Frank is falling in love with someone else, someone who may very well come to eclipse Julie in terms of importance to him. No matter how much he loves her, no matter how much they might want to stay together, there are some things you just can't fight and this play-relationship they have can't last forever...
But that's just my interpretation!
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teela · 2 months
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something soft, naughty, and sweet with nanami kento... the walking green flag himself.
husband material.
the man who worships the ground you walk on.
the one who will give his life for you.
he treats you like the goddess you are, never once straying from your side, acting like your personal bodyguard whenever you went out together.
but the moment his cock thrusts inside of your sopping wet cunt, all of his sense of formalities were tossed out the window.
he has an obsession with the sheer taste of you, often spending his time ripping off your paper thin blouse and mini skirt with his large hands, his once slicked back hair now a mess of tangles because of how you kept running your fingers within them.
the way his blond hair falls across his face makes you shiver, watching his brown eyes being eclipsed with a lingering darkness, becoming dilated due to his uncontrollable lust for you.
his sinful lips presses kisses down your inner thigh when he slides down your panties with his teeth. you began to let out soft whines of his name, already clenching with need for him.
"ken, please... i'm so... i just... oh..." you end your statement with a moan the moment he presses his lips against your pussy, sliding his tongue across your folds while tracing at the outer lips of your cunt. he says nothing, yet you could feel his groan sending vibrations down your spine.
with a pant, you fall back against the luxurious, king sized bed, hands already delving themselves into nanami's hair as he begins fucking your cunnie with his tongue. he swirls the wet appendage inside of your gummy walls, seeming determined to suck the soul right out of you as he doesn't cease his sinful kisses.
he explores your body with an expertise- playing you like a symphony as a cacophony of moans fill at the air.
a sudden rush of something powerful was felt between your legs as tears began to dot your vision, "oh, k-ken, stop, i feel really strange. this is... oh..."
a string of moans and breathless gasps were heard when nanami lifts your hips, allowing your legs to wrap around his head when he buries his entire face within your cunt, not stopping his tongue's rapid movements in and out of it-
even when you felt a warm liquid pouring out of you and into his awaiting lips.
a gasp was heard escaping from you, coupled along with an embarrassed whine of his name. feeling the red hotness against your cheek, you couldn't bring yourself to look at him-
you were curled up into a fetal position, unaware of how nanami was looking at you with a feral gaze. his lips were still wet, made evident from your squirting, his cock practically leaking for you as he pulled your leg until he was settled between your thighs once more.
"what was that? did you just... squirt on me...?"
a whine escapes from your lips, and you finally gather your courage to see nanami giving you what had to be the sexiest smirk alive.
not even bothering to give any warnings, he strokes his cock into full hardness momentarily before thrusting his dick deep inside of you, making you inadvertently clench around him in response. a dark chuckle was heard coming from him when he grips at your bouncing breasts. you were left seeing stars now, with your back arching against the bed as nanami continued to fuck himself into you, filled with a desperation to make you cum, just like that, again.
"c'mon... do it for me again... do it for daddy again... wet his cock. make a mess out of his cock just like that... wanna see those juices sliding down my cock. c'mon baby, c'mon."
you were crying out his name now, clutching at the bed while feeling the intense pleasure washing through you. as if following his command, you felt the same, intense rush of your orgasm, making your boyfriend take in the sight of your love juices running down his shaft now.
his cock pulses, growing bigger inside of you when he helps you ride out your release. only when your walls become even tighter in a vice grip did he still his hips, allowing his balls to tighten while shooting his seed inside of you.
you feel his grip on your waist- feeling his limp cock weakly thrusting in and out of you as he made sure to empty his seed within your soaking wet cunt. he lets out a groan of your name, falling against you as he hid his head within the curve of your neck.
you were both covered in sweat, and even though you felt so hot- you did not push nanami's heavy weight off of you. he seemed speechless now, simply running his chapped lips against the length of your bare shoulder, making you sigh at the gesture.
"ken..." you call out to him, practically love drunk and so stupidly in love with him. pressing your lips against the side of his face, you eagerly wait for his post-nut clarity to kick in, knowing that he was going to spoil you with the aftercare you knew that you deserved.
so when you felt him suddenly harden inside of you, you couldn't stop the the shocked, choked moan from escaping your throat.
"that was the first time you ever squirted on my cock... and i need to make you feel so good again, need to have your pretty pussy wetting my dick."
nanami was looking down at you with a blush dyeing his strong cheekbones, sitting back up on the bed as he tosses both of your legs over his shoulders, making quick pounds against your sensitive cunt.
"gonna be a good girl f'me...? can you give me another one... please, i need to feel another one... gotta feel my pretty princess wrap herself around me again and again and again." he finishes his statement with another powerful thrust against your cunt.
and if the squelching sounds of your pussy echoing throughout your bedroom wasn't enough proof, you made sure to vocalize just how much you wanted to make your man happy by squirting on his cock once more 💋
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© teela
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daycourtofficial · 1 month
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Laborious anxieties
Eris x Rhysand’s Sister!reader
Summary: based on this request - Eris is riddled with anxiety leading up to your labor, but what happens when some of his worst fears come to fruition?
Author’s note: this is technically a follow-up to A Starfall in Autumn, but could be read as a standalone 🥰 I kinda tore through writing this. I got the request at 7:45 and finished writing at 9:30. Forgive any spelling errors, I have ✨sick brain✨
Warnings: pregnancy, labor, blood loss
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The last two weeks of your pregnancy had been a time riddled with anxiety.
You were fine - it was Eris who was unable to stay calm. It felt like a stranger was consuming your mate’s body the way nervousness radiated off of him these days.
And the way he clung to you was very unlike him.
He stepped back from High Lord duties for at least a month, delegating responsibilities amongst his brothers and advisors. He receives a summary of the day’s activities during dinner, and except for a trade agreement his brother signed that was less than advantageous for Autumn, everything was running fine.
Which meant your mate could spend all of his time worrying about you, following you around. He’d gotten so absurd he began having his hounds check you for any abnormalities, doing a ‘daily check’ where they sniffed you to ensure you were okay.
The moment you had told Eris of your pregnancy, his joy was very quickly eclipsed by his very sudden interest in providing you with more security. You had been able to talk him down from the initial twelve guards he wanted trailing you at all times to two guards and at least two of the hounds.
“One hound will stay and defend me, the other one will find you,” you had argued. He relented, but as you got closer and closer to your due date, his attempts at renegotiation were increasing by the day.
You had now agreed to four guards and six hounds with you at all times, unless you were with him.
Between the massive bump on your belly that makes maneuvering around very difficult and the entourage you’d have to take, you opt more often than not to stay in your chambers for most of the day.
One of Autumn’s advisors had suggested the birth be a public spectacle, and Eris grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him out of the room, stating, “you’ll be allowed back in when you’ve recovered from your sudden onset stupidity.”
You were glad, because even laboring privately didn’t keep it from being quite the spectacle. Three high lords were to be in Autumn around the birth: your brother, Rhysand, and Eris’s brother, Lucien.
Lucien offered to be available to you in any way he can be, so you took him up on that offer and begged him to take your mate away for an hour or so every day.
So every day at an hour past noon, Lucien would retrieve Eris, and they would play some sporting game they invented when Lucien was a child. They tried explaining it to you, but it never made any sense to you, so you opted to just let them enjoy themselves.
Today, Eris was running through the halls of the Forest House, cursing himself for putting his chambers so deep inside. The house was more fortified the further in you went, with many foxholes that can take you throughout the court. Now it was just a pain to get back to his mate who was definitely not okay.
His fingers made quick work of ruining his hair, a light sweat coating his skin as he flung open the door, preparing for the worst.
Instead, he found his insufferable brother in law opposite you on the bed playing a card game.
“Hi Er,” you say, lighting up at the sight of him, but quickly going back to the cards in your hand, determination in your features.
Clover, the eldest hound and your personal favorite, currently had her head resting against your bump. Her eyes tracked the room, searching for any movement that could be perceived as a threat. Her tail wagged softly at Eris’s entrance, but she remained fixed, guarding your unborn babe.
“Hi Er,” Rhys offers, not glancing up from his cards, “did you run here or do you get winded from these elaborate halls?”
Eris straightens his vest, closing the door behind him as he walks further into the room. “Someone was sending some very distressed signals down the bond.”
He keeps his eyes on you as your face softens, “oops, I was so focused on our game, I didn’t mean to. It’s just not fair because he cheats!”
“I have done no such thing! How dare you accuse a high lord of such a crime?”
You stick your tongue out at him, which he immediately returns. Eris rolls his eyes, well aware of how being around your brother turns the two of you into children. He heads into your private chambers, heading towards the bathroom to bathe.
After bathing and putting on fresh clothes, Eris is about to head back to the two of you, when he hears your soft voice whisper through the door, “I miss mother.”
He’s sure you’re curled up into Rhysand, peering into the violet eyes you both inherited from her. He turns back into the chambers, allowing the two of you to share your grief. As he retreats he does hear, “but I’ll have Eris’s mother. She’s not, y’know, but she’s great. If I can’t have mother, she’s a great stand-in.”
He smiles to himself, finding the book on his bedside table, and settling into the couch, letting the two of you have your privacy.
-
Rhys travels between Autumn and Night every morning and every afternoon, keeping you company during the morning as you become more and more confined to your bedchambers.
You weren’t technically ordered for bedrest, but moving about was incredibly taxing for you, especially when trying to wrangle the large entourage Eris insisted on.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, Rhysand happened to be with you when your water broke.
Eris was at court settling a dispute between his idiotic advisors that they insisted required his input when Rhysand’s claws tapped his mind. Upon allowing him entry, he hears Rhysand’s voice trickle in.
It’s time.
-
Your contractions began, slow and unhurried, the cramping abismal. The contractions came quicker and quicker, time between shortening until your nursemaid tells you to start pushing.
You cry out as you do so, an intense pain coming from your pelvis. They tell you to stop, as they check to ensure your dilated enough to continue.
They motion for you to continue, but the pain only gets worse.
“She’s tearing dramatically,” one of the nurses says.
“What does that mean?” Rhys asks, holding your hand.
“Her circulation’s poor, likely because of the bedrest. She’s losing a lot of blood from these tears.”
Eris felt the primal rage of the mating bond heating his blood. They were talking about his mate in such a sterile, clinical way. Eris bared his teeth at them, but they did not back down, they would not back down, even to the commanding presence of multiple high lords.
“I need the two of you to leave, now. I need to focus, and I can’t do that with two high lords breathing down my neck.”
“Everyone here has her best interest at heart - I promise you, high lords, we will do our best for her,” another nursemaid says.
Eris’s eyes are fixed on your pale face, drained of any color. He doesn’t feel Rhys’s arm wrap around him, dragging him out of the room, nor does he feel the wall Rhys presses him against, giving him something to support his weight.
He can’t let that be the last memory he has of your face.
Lucien is in the hall, and Rhys is updating him on how much blood you loss. “Can’t Feyre’s blood heal? Can she come help?”
Eris snaps his eyes up to Rhysand, whose eyes have a vaguely glossy look to them.
“Please, Rhys.”
Eris did not beg. He accepted the hands he was dealt. He did not plead with his father, as the whip would strike his back. He did not plead with the Mother when he had to chase Lucien into Spring. He did not plead with the Cauldron or the stars asking for help.
But he would ask Rhysand.
“She’s on her way, she just has to get someone to care for Nyx.”
“Hel, she can bring Nyx and I can care for him,” Eris offered, reaching out to hold tightly onto that golden string connecting the two of you.
Rhys’s eyebrows raise, but Lucien cuts in, “brother, you are in no state to watch over a young child.”
“Since when have you had any experience with young children?”
Lucien balks, “the children of Spring were quite fond of me.”
Eris smirks, “pity the children of the court you preside over do not feel the same.”
Lucien is about to bite back when Rhys comes back to them.
“Okay, she’ll be here any minute now.”
Eris hated to do it, tampering with the wards of the Forest House to allow any member of your family entry in the past month.
Never has he been so grateful he did something he so staunchly opposed when Feyre appeared in front of them, a cooing Nyx in her arms that she quickly hands off to Lucien. She briefly lets her hand touch Rhys’s shoulder as she nods to Eris before running into the room.
Lucien holds Nyx, the young toddler providing amusement to the three high lords.
“Do you have a name?” Rhys asks, trying to distract Eris from the nervous meltdown he understood all too well.
“For a girl, we like Hestia Seline.”
Rhys’s eyes snap up, but Eris continues.
“Some ancient humans believed in multiple gods, one of which was the goddess of the hearth, Hestia. And Seline for..”
He gestures towards Rhys, letting his sentence finish there.
“You would allow a Vanserra to be named after my mother?”
Eris nods, “if she insisted,” a finger was pointed to the door you lay behind, in what condition Eris had no idea, “I’d let her name a Vanserra ‘Rhys Azriel Vanserra.”
Rhys grins, “but not Cassian?”
“We all must draw lines somewhere, Rhysand.”
Lucien hoists Nyx up into the air, his little wings fluttering, and Eris watches.
“I helped raise all of my brothers,” he states to no one in particular. “It would have been utter carnage if they had wings.”
“And Cassian only makes it worse.”
“Color me surprised. Don’t allow him home alone with Nyx, I’m sure he’ll throw him from your tallest balconies.”
Rhysand breathes through his nose, and Eris knows there’s a great possibility it is something that has already happened.
“What if it’s a boy?” Rhys asks, “you have Hestia Seline.”
“Jasper Camden.”
“Didn’t want another Beron around?” Lucien asks, pushing Nyx into the air on one arm.
“The day I give a child that name is the day I have been possessed.”
The conversation was helping distract Eris, but he kept a tight hold on the bond, ensuring you felt him no matter what.
Eris feels intense pain through the bond, and without thinking, he shoots up off the ground, and opens the door, promptly running into one of the nursemaids.
“High lord, she’s pushing again. The tears were healed, and she’s doing much better. I was just about to get you.”
He comes over to you, holding one of your hands. Feyre was tightly holding your other, holding a damp cloth to your forehead.
“Hello, my love.”
Eris isn’t sure when he started crying, but he knew he was when you smiled back at him, color back to your beautiful face.
“Haven’t you heard? I’m a vampire now- ah!”
You breathe out slowly, and Feyre begins whispering words of encouragement to you.
“But my dear, you love the sun too much.”
You nod as you push, and the nurse tells you you can stop for a moment. You catch your breath, looking towards your mate.
“But I would have really cool fangs. I could taste your blood.”
He strokes the back of your hand, kissing your palm. “Anything you want, my love.”
Your labor continued, much faster now as you held onto Feyre and Eris’s hands, frequently apologizing if you break any fingers.
Eris never got to be around for this part. He was always kept in front of closed doors, anxiously waiting for his next brother, uncertain as to his mother’s state. His anxiety reprieved only hours after the actual labor, when he was allowed to visit his mother and new brother.
Now he was here, the bond thrumming between you two, as he got to hear the first cries of his babe. You almost fall back in exhaustion as your babe slides out, but Eris slides behind you, allowing you to rest against his chest.
He holds your sweaty face in his hands, hair damp, kissing your forehead, telling you how proud of you he was and how incredible you were.
The two of you listen to your babe’s cries as the nursemaid brings the babe to you, placing them on your chest.
Every exhalation is accompanied by a wailing too large for the small body as they breathe air into their lungs for the first time.
Eris places a hand on the babe’s back, hoping they’ll remember his touch from the womb. The babe was covered in birth, but Eris didn’t care. He knew being around for this part was a privilege he had never been afforded before.
He kisses your head again, as the nursemaid smiles at the two of you.
“It’s a girl.”
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kil9 · 2 years
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I can't listen to beautiful night by vixx lr without thinking taekwoon is saying "feel this vermont" 😐
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celestial-robots · 9 months
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Explaining Eclipse (A Theory/Headcanon)
Spoilers for the Ruin DLC below!
Okay so I've been thinking so much about Eclipse and what they mean. You know, as you do XD. Just a lot of wondering what they mean for the ~lore~ and how they fit in with the rest of the Sun and Moon stuff. And after a lot of thinking, I may have figured stuff out.
I've seen a couple posts wondering if Eclipse is the way the Daycare Attendant is "supposed to be" and if Sun and Moon are the result of the DCA breaking down or something. But personally I just can't see that. Not only do we hear Sun go "thank you" after the Eclipse encounter, implying he's still around and hasn't permanently "fused" into Eclipse, but it also wouldn't make sense with stuff in Security Breach. In-game Fazbear merchandise and advertising have a lot of focus on Sun and Moon as two separate individuals, not the DCA as a single unit. For example, see the giant golden statues outside of Daycare. Two different forms of the Daycare Attendant. Collectibles are also identified as "Sun" and "Moon." It's not like they're labeled "Eclipse Doll (Sun form)" or "Moon Eclipse Doll." No, it's just "Sun Doll" and "Moon Doll."
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So here's how I think it works. Sun and Moon are two separate AIs within the DCA body. They can function on their own, independent of the other, in the way we've been thinking this whole time. BUT they're also designed to join together, like interlocking puzzle blocks. Two separate forms that come together to make a "whole" that's greater than the sum of the parts.
This makes sense from a programming perspective. Sun is designed to play with kids and entertain them, Moon is designed to watch over kids while they sleep. They're both made for specific scenarios, but taking care of kids is a lot more complicated than just "play time" and "nap time." So whenever one of them encounters something they can't deal with by themselves, they call for help from the other, who activates as well, combining their features and protocols. I'm willing to bed this also activates several specific "Eclipse" features that can only be accessed when both AIs are active, which would explain why Eclipse has such a different personality.
But if this is the case, then why haven't we seen Eclipse before? Why did they only come out when Cassie rebooted the DCA?
Well that's where this theory by @dana-chan-the-control-brain and @twinanimatronics comes in. The two of them theorized that the Balloon World arcade cabinet in the DCA's room was some sort of signal broadcaster that kept their AIs divided. I think that Ruin confirms this—or at least provides a lot of solid evidence.
In the main game, Balloon World is in the DCA room, up and active and with a form of Eclipse inside. In Ruin, the Balloon World cabinet is broken. And you can see weird purple glitches coming from it while in AR vision. It's only in Ruin, after the cabinet has been damaged, that we finally meet Eclipse.
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This is venturing a bit into headcanon territory, but let's have some fun with this. I believe that the Balloon World cabinet was put in the DCA's room to infect them with the virus. Probably a long time before the events of the actual game, since the worn-down state of the room shows it's been a while since any human or robot cleaners were in there. This might have been some sort of test run to see if the virus could affect the animatronics.
However, the virus couldn't affect the DCA while Eclipse was there, acting as a sort of stabilizing failsafe for Sun and Moon. So the virus then cut off the "fuse" function from Sun and Moon, locking Eclipse away and preventing them from stepping in when Sun or Moon encounter something strange—strange like a virus. Sun probably couldn't be affected by the virus because the virus attacks nighttime and/or security protocols, and he no longer had access to those once Eclipse was gone. Moon, however, did. And that's why he's hostile.
But then, if the Balloon World cabinet was keeping Eclipse contained, why were Sun and Moon still freaking out in Ruin even after the cabinet was destroyed? Why did they need Cassie to reboot them?
Well, I think that forming Eclipse requires both Sun and Moon to want to fuse together. And Moon clearly doesn't want to do that in Ruin. Why? Probably because he's mad at Sun. You can hear how angry he is in voice lines where he says stuff like "No more Sun!" and "No more light!" (Seriously, props to Kellen Goff, holy shit.) Moon was only able to be "awake" for short periods of time in the main game, partially because Sun was encouraging everyone to "Keep the lights on." Of course Moon would be pissed and want to be in control now that the lights are broken. He wasn't about to risk losing that .
But not having Eclipse around was ultimately damaging Sun and Moon. They were meant to stabilize the system when the two individuals couldn't do that alone. Not to mention their systems were already damaged, judging by Moon's increased light sensitivity in Ruin. They needed Eclipse so they could be stable again.
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Cassie rebooting the DCA's systems was a lot like restarting your computer. Everything shuts down and then all the systems start running again at once—including, in this case, both Sun and Moon's AIs and whatever Eclipse functions were now restored. That's why Eclipse was in control after the reboot. Presumably, the rest of the software damage was also fixed, which probably helped calm Moon down. So, overall, a happy ending.
Relatively, I mean. The DCA is still stuck in an abandoned Pizzaplex, but at least Eclipse is back and Sun and Moon aren't fighting anymore :)
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