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uc1wa · 2 years ago

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18+ minors dni

OCT. 28 — KINKTOBER ‘23

DUMBIFICATION & BREEDING WITH TOJI FUSHIGURO

ktober m.list

tags: fem reader, daddy kink, tummy bulging (squint), mating press, size kink, choking, toji is not a poor bum

the first time you’d had sex with toji was sweet and sensual. he treated you with care, tender touches pressed to your skin as if you’d crack if he pressed too hard. your small form underneath his big one strengthened his want to care for you, fill you up with his cock—but only after he’d eaten you out, filled you up with fingers enough to make you cum into his mouth two times. consideration, that he showed to no other who crossed paths with him, came naturally when you'd touched his sheets

and he loved how much smaller you were than him. how, never in your life, had you been with a man as big as toji. whether that be the broadness of his shoulders that shadowed your figure like a silhouette, or if it was his length that he felt in your tummy when he pressed his hand down, teasing you gently on how you were made to hold his length.

tonight was only the second time that you’d found your way into toji’s bed. after a long night of wining and dining, spending your night with a chef's course that toji told you, "i’ll pick a place that’ll learn your name," because he promised he’d continue taking you. he loved watching over you, opening your eyes to care that you didn’t know existed.

the kissing hadn't stopped since the moment you’d found his door, his lips sucking on your tongue even when his fingers fumbled with keys. and once he found the right key, he was pushing you against the door when you’d made your way in, his hand finding your ass and pulling you up his form, holding you as he found stairs until he was throwing you against his king-sized bed.

you should’ve known tonight would be different when toji didn’t delicately lay you in his bed, looking down at you with affection in his eyes, rather a darkness that read lust. a difference in atmosphere when there was space between your figures, enough to read his face and feel his aura that wasn't swallowing your kisses. something cold surrounded him, the scar that sat on his lips pulled upwards while his hands gripped your thighs; his hips slotted between them.

an eerily comfortable silence settled upon your figures. and you weren't sure if your breaths were interrupting it. with dark eyes moving over your body, you didn’t feel far off than dessert served on a platter for toji who was just a little too hungry.

"hi," you said without a mind of your own, hands fallen haphazardly on the thick, goose-feathered duvet you were sprawled on. your soft voice cut through the coldness that was the air you breathed, a smirk painted on toji's lips.

"hey, princess," he moves closer until it's impossible for his clothed bulge to press further between your legs without entering your panty-covered entrance. rough hands move underneath the fancy dress he'd bought you for that night, eyes moving down to the panties that you'd decided on. lace, sheer, and all. the brand that decided to sell it as an undergarment was generous, but the detail that went into it was worth the prize that it covered.

the prize that was surely leaving a dampening stain on the front of toji's trousers that it was pressed against. his thumb and forefinger move to capture the skin that covers your chin, pressing it to allow your eyes to meet once more. you wince, wanting nothing more than to feel toji filling you up like he had a week ago.

"y’so pretty, baby," his gruff voice says, calloused fingers rubbing against your soft skin. thumbs rubbing circles on the inside of your plush thighs. and you smile a small, embarrassed smile, not wanting toji to say another word without stripping you of your clothes. he watches with harsh eyes, chin tilted upwards as if expecting something out of you. and when he doesn’t get it, he purses his lips. "lost your manners?"

your eyes widen for a second, shaking your head while attempting to grind against his bulge. "th-thank you," you say while your partner's grip tightens on your skin, halting the attempt to grind against him.

"who?" and you feel lost for a second under the pressure of the words and the gaze that has you in a trance. "thank you, toji," you gulp, feeling all too tiny.

and when you see his lips curl up once more, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. "that’s m’girl," his thumb finds its way under the thin fabric of your panties. finding your clit without hesitation or a stutter, pressing harshly while his figure leans down. lips pressing against the corner of your lips.

"daddy's good lil’ girl, yeah?" hot breaths fan your skin as you wriggle from the sudden pressure against your most sensitive part. the heat growing on your face and between your legs mixed with the name the man had called himself was the start of your descent into a puddle underneath his form.

your descent into feeling small and your brain being filled with one thought and one thought alone. "'m daddy's good girl, please, wanna feel you," you whine in a voice that sounds unfamiliar to the one you used when you ordered your dinner just over an hour ago. the voice that you've only used with toji the one other time you've been in his bed.

finally. he's got you where he wants you, and he coos while you wrap one arm around the back of his neck, the other fumbling with buttons on the dress shirt he wore. toji laughs against your skin at the dumbness that's filling your eyes, unable to even undo a single button. his hand moves to find yours, holding it in place while his thumb begins moving circles around your clit.

"where does my dumb baby wanna feel me?" he teases, letting go of your hand to begin undoing his buttons in the slowest way he possibly can. it's as if he rubs over the circle, memorizing the uniqueness of each one before he slides it through the cloth hole. it feels like an eternity until the sides of the top fall on either side of his torso.

and if you felt small a minute ago, you felt microscopic under his dark gaze now. you felt like a bug ready to be stomped on under the broadness of his chest, traps that made his shoulder look that much bigger and stronger than they did under a shirt. the way his obliques stretched from the form he held overtop of you, one arm stretching the muscle as it laid against plush covers, the other moving underneath panties.

looking at your partner alone was enough to erase the question from your brain alone, further proving toji's point that you were just a dumb baby. but with the bliss that follows the way his rough thumb toys with your bud, you're unsure if you're able to communicate outside of moans.

"huh?" he grunts in question, and your eyes meet him as he bends down once more, moving a mere inch from your face and halting his movements. but thinking is too hard, and you don't remember the man asking a question, so you pout and look away. "w-what'd you say..?" it's daring to ask the question, but you do anyways and feel humiliated when toji's laugh fans your cheek.

"should've known you're too dumb," his voice is teasing. "need daddy to do all the thinkin' for you, huh? don't even know why ya gotta brain." you look back to toji, because you agree. thinking and speaking is too hard under his touch. not to mention he already paid for all your meals and outfits, toji took care of you in every sense of the word.

with wide eyes, you nod, "'m just need you," you whine, leaning forward to attempt to press a kiss to toji's lips, but the hand that isn't pressed firmly against your clit catches your throat before you're able to throw yourself at the man, pushing you against the bed with a choked whimper.

with the hold on your throat that still allows you to breathe, albeit hard to breathe, he's letting go of your clit that's held with his thumb. subbing two fingers that delve into your flowering hole without a warning, moving so that he's knuckle deep inside your cunt while choked cries beg to leave your throat.

"gonna fuck you like a dumb slut then, since, y'know, that's what you want baby," he scissors your cunt, moving in and out with a pace that makes you see stars, a warmth growing in your tummy while you're sure your throat is gonna have a small bruise where his thumb lies on one side.

as soon as you're beginning to enjoy yourself, beginning to feel your pulse in your throat and a knot grow in your belly, toji's pulling his fingers from your hole and releasing his hold on your neck. and, without enough time to whine in protest, his two fingers are finding their way to your lips. taking the opportunity when your mouth falls open and filling your pretty lips before he hears something dumb leave you.

the hand that was holding your pulse point moves to his slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping with fervor until the girthy and lengthy member that you weren't used to yet, hits his lower tummy.

"taste good?" he teases, not bothering to meet your gaze as he lines himself up with your cunt that's moving with a mind of its own. trying to suck in toji which he hasn't even pressed against yet. another laugh and he's pushing through tight walls as you hum against fingers, your attempt at moaning something loud and wild at the sudden intrusion.

he only groans, taking his fingers from your mouth messily, saliva and all dripping against your lips and chin until they find their place around your neck once more. "d-daddy!" finally, you moan clearly and coherently as the man doesn't allow your tight hole to get adjusted, thrusting with a pace that's got your legs trembling around his waist and fingernails that are leaving crescent indents on the back of his neck and shoulders.

you didn't know if it was fair to say you were used to a different toji, having only found yourself in his sheets once more than now, but the toji who was filling you up with his length now was different than the one who welcomed you before. this toji was rough, uncaring of the bruise blossoming on the side of your neck, the way you screamed moans in his ear and the slapping of wet skin bouncing off of the surrounding walls. "dumb fuckin' pussy, squeezin' me 'n shit," he grunts, the only sound with the ability to be heard over your pathetic whimpers.

with the harsh movements, the expanding of your walls that squeezed against the man, on top of the words he groaned in your ear, it was hard to hold yourself back. the coil in your belly tightening faster than you'd like. "g-gonna cum," you whine, and toji moves his hand from your throat, replacing the rough callouses with the grazing of his teeth over your skin. "gonna fuck a fuckin' baby into you," he moans, bringing his knees onto the bed, pressing impossibly deep into your cunt while his hands move to the top of your head. resting there while he pushes you down even more to swallow his cock.

the mating press he fucks you into floods your senses, heat radiating and you're not sure if it's from you or the man holding you against his body. skin flushed against yours while sweat manifests a second layer over your soft skin. "cum on this dick, baby, c'mon," he urges, and it feels like a dare coming from him. like you have to prove the motion in order to continue being his, and you're committed.

"p-please, wanna baby," and maybe your dumbness caught up to you. maybe if you were sober from toji's cock, you'd be embarrassed by the words you were begging. but in the moment of tip kissing cervix, you wanted nothing more than warmth to fill your cunt. needed to feel warm cum dripping out of you as your life depended on it.

when toji felt the familiar feeling of your soft muscles squeezing around each vein of his cock, it was only right he allowed himself to fall into his own bliss. giving you what you asked for and continuing to fuck you after he'd spilled his seed into you. fucking his cum into you, scared that it would be wasted by falling onto the duvet your body rested against.

🏷️: @hopeannalea, @zaxlrza, @loviie-stuff, @nightjarwings, @natiluv, @cl-0-vr

last kinktober post... thank you for reading! thank you for joining my taglist and all the sweet messages attached! woohoo! i’m out this hoe

#traps are the ugliest muscle that a man can work out but toji is my exception #i finished kinktober… i feel like i’ve won a war #WOW #this was so fun i love events but WHEW did this take a lot outta me #hello to everyone new!#thank you for being here!#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x you #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji zenin #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you #jjk smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut

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moonstruckme · 8 months ago

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i want this to be a series even if i'm the only one who will read it

would you do more royal!au sirius x reader??? please??? i mean the fluff and the banter alone are ripe for more situations but the smut of banging in a castle in formal wear or the angst of some great big political problem??? i'm here for it allllllll

only if you're interested in it

Absolutely I would! Thanks for requesting lovely ;)

cw: nausea, controlling family dynamics

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 2.1k words

You lie atop your bed, rubbing the sheets between your thumb and pointer finger. You estimate their thread count is about ten gazillion. The duvet piled by your feet is probably stuffed with feathers of a goose hatched from a golden egg and raised with a silver spoon right here in the palace. It all makes you feel slightly nauseous to think about.

Though in fairness, the nausea could be from any number of things. The several courses of rich foods you had to force down over dinner with the Black family, the way Sirius’ eyes seemed to flicker every time they passed over you, the many, many hours of memorization you’d put in only to set your fork on the wrong edge of the plate when you wanted to signal you were finished eating, or perhaps the conversation you had with your grandmother and her council of advisors in her office afterwards.

All in all, you’re really only waiting to either be violently sick or fall asleep. Whichever comes first.

A knock on the door makes you sit up slowly. No one usually cares to see you past dinnertime. You wonder for a moment if you’ve misheard, if someone knocked further down the hall and the sound carried.

Then it comes again. You get up.

Sirius’ mouth is already half curved when you open the door, but his smile blooms as he takes you in from head to toe.

“My,” he leans against your doorframe, looking positively delighted, “don’t you look cozy.”

Your cheeks flame. You hadn’t been expecting any visitors when you’d put on your pajama bottoms and giant, graphic nightshirt. Sirius is also the most casual you’ve seen him in a gray sweatshirt and dark jeans, but he’s still wearing clothes, which means he’s still dressed better than you. You fear this is an inevitability you may never escape with him.

“I’m having an early night,” you say.

He frowns. “Oh. Really? What could I do to persuade you not to?”

You feel your eyebrows rise. “What would you be persuading me to do instead?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Sirius says, looking you in the eyes, “we should go out.”

You feel acid in the back of your throat. You nearly choke on it. “We—you and me?”

“I see how that wording could be confusing. I don’t mean like a date,” he clarifies. You let out a breath, and his grin renews. “Not that I would ever deny you one, gorgeous, if that’s what you wanted. But what I had in mind was more of an introduction to the kingdom.”

Your stomach settles a bit. The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it doesn’t seem like you’ve gotten out much since you’ve been here. Am I wrong?”

You shake your head.

Sirius’ smile is almost gentle. “I know it’s a bit unorthodox, because I’m not from here and your family rules this place, but I’ve actually been here quite a lot. I could show you around the town, get you acquainted with some worthwhile haunts.” He pauses, analyzing your reaction. “There’s a bakery not far from here that has the most incredible apple pastries this time of year, best I’ve had. They only use seasonal ingredients.”

There’s an uneasy feeling about this, about him, an allure and a simultaneous urge to run. But you’re intrigued. “The best you’ve had?”

His eyes flash with satisfaction. “Change quickly. They close at ten.”

Sirius proves his prowess quickly. He brings you into town off the main road and says a few words to your guards that have them keeping a furtive distance from the both of you. To any passerby along the lamplit streets, you look like a regular couple. Intentionally or not, Sirius’ hand in yours completes the image.

He pulls you into a coffee shop first, coerces you into trying a specialty latte and promises it won’t matter when you order it decaf. You make it to the bakery just before close, and Sirius orders not only the apple pastries but some with pear and a few with blackberry and one muffin for each of you to have tomorrow morning. He charms everyone behind the counter so effortlessly the owner gives you the muffins for free.

You end up sitting on the grass at the edge of a park, on a hill sloping downward towards the street. Admittedly, you’ve not put much thought into the kingdom you’re allegedly supposed to run someday. It still feels like some kind of fraudulence to sleep in your bedroom in the palace, and the idea of being a princess to this place doesn’t feel any more real now that you’re seeing it up close.

But this is a town you could love, you think. It’s the sort of place you might have traveled, before, and imagined your life in. Maybe a job at the bakery, grabbing coffee before your early mornings, indistinguishable from any of the other locals strolling around and chatting with shopkeepers and wearing their footprints into the ground. It’s hard not to imagine it even now, though you know your role in this place is far less quaint.

“Mmmmygod,” Sirius moans, licking sugary apple glaze from the corner of his mouth. “Your palate is not prepared for this. Don’t let it get cold.”

You fish your apple pastry out of the bag obediently, taking a bite. It’s warm and soft, the dough flattening over your tongue. You close your eyes, and the flavor blooms.

“Wow.”

“Right?” He sounds downright gleeful, excited for you in a way that’s out of keeping with the refined, stately way you’re both usually expected to behave.

“You were right. It’s really good.” You give him a smile and take another bite before putting the pastry away.

Sirius cocks an eyebrow at you, his expression unabashedly judgemental. “You’re not going to finish it?”

“Dinner didn’t sit very well with me,” you say apologetically. “You can have the rest, if you want.”

“Oh.” His countenance melds into something like sympathy. “That’s alright, you can reheat it tomorrow if you like. Are you not feeling well?”

You press your lips into a smile. “I’m okay.”

“They’ve been running you pretty ragged, yeah? It must be a lot.”

“I’m okay,” you say again, softer.

You think the polite thing would be to at least act like he believes you, but Sirius doesn’t. You can feel his gaze on your face as you look out over the town. He’s been a bit different tonight, you think. Still ridiculous and jovial and loud, but gentler at times. Friendly in a more sincere way. Kind.

You take a breath. “Can I ask you something?”

You can practically feel the lift of his eyebrows. “Maybe,” he answers, half humorous.

“Did you know our families have been trying to arrange our marriage?”

There’s a thick pause. You watch a couple of the lights in windows go out.

Sirius’ sigh is heavy. “Honestly? I suspected.”

You turn towards him, your throat tightening with nausea and fright and half a dozen other emotions you haven’t identified yet. Sirius is still looking at you, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

“My family doesn’t tend to see fit to involve me in these things, even when they pertain to me,” he says somewhat bitterly, “but I know how my parents operate. It’s not rare for us to have visits here, but these last couple since you arrived have involved much more nice-making than usual.” He leans back on his forearms, tilting his face to the sky. For the first time since you’ve met him you think that he looks almost tired. “I suppose us appearing to get along at the ball probably didn’t help matters. They’re always looking for someone who can ‘tame’ me. Now they likely think you’re it.”

You fight to keep your tone even. “Can they just do that? Make us get married?”

“Well, clearly it’s not that easy, or we would be.” Sirius seems to be musing aloud. His eyes trace the stars, voice low and thoughtful. “I imagine the holdup is on your side of things. My family would love to be rid of me, but your lot may not want to take me on.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” you say, but your voice is growing wispy, your vision blurring.

Sirius sits up. “Hey.” He sounds upset, but his hand on your shoulder is gentle. “Don’t do that. It’s not as bad as it seems, it’ll be okay.”

“Sorry.” You jam your fingertips into your eyes, trying to keep tears from leaking out. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never felt so…out of control before.”

Lately, that’s all you’ve felt. Helpless, robbed of your autonomy. You eat and wear and say what you’re told to, you need guards to go out and get pastries, and now the rest of your life is being practically given away to some other kingdom so that your family can rest easy knowing trade agreements are well solidified.

“I know,” Sirius murmurs. His palm runs a couple inches down your arm, then back up again. It’s the most tentative you’ve seen him. “You’re not, though, really. They can scheme all they want, but nothing has to happen unless both of us get in front of an altar and say ‘I do.’ No one can actually make us go through with it.”

You lower your hands enough to look at him, and he gives you a sideways smile.

“I’d be more than happy to be the one to ruin us, if you like. I have a reputation for foiling my parents’ plans anyway. You can even act betrayed. The gracious new princess, and the wayward prince who wouldn’t be bound to her.”

You worry the inside of your lip. “I wouldn’t want to throw you under the bus.”

“Sweet of you, doll, but I’m already under there. No sense in taking you with me.”

He takes another pastry out of the bag, resolved and resigned. You study him. Your life has been nothing but change lately. One terrifying revelation leading to the next, seemingly following a structure you’re not privy to. You haven’t had time to get your feet under you in your new life, constantly being told you’re doing things wrong or getting introduced to new important people or having your manners corrected. This is only your first time getting out into the town where you live! You don’t feel ready to be married.

But through all the madness of your new life, Sirius has been an odd sort of constant. Kind, and grounding, and casual even when it’s improper. He’s been a real friend to you, the only person who stops to ask how you’re doing and seemingly wants an honest answer. You’ve come to take comfort in him.

“Do you really think my family is keeping us from…” You find you can’t say it, but Sirius catches your drift anyway.

“It’s the only explanation I can come up with,” he replies. “Or, not keeping us from it, necessarily, but slowing the process. They’re likely negotiating something to do with the trade agreement, making sure I’m a worthwhile deal for them to take on.”

“How long does negotiating that stuff take?”

“I don’t know. Believe it or not, this is actually my first time as well. At least a couple weeks, I’d guess. Your family may want to see how you’re settling in first.”

You gnaw on your lip, pensive. When you look at Sirius, he’s looking back at you, gray eyes discerning.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks you.

“What if we didn’t stop it yet?”

Surprise flickers over his expression, gone as quickly as it came. “I assumed you’d want to be done with this as soon as possible. Why are you asking?”

You shrug, feeling your cheeks heat. “You’d probably have to be here pretty often while they’re still talking things out, right?”

“Yeah…”

“And we’re sort of friends now, aren’t we?”

Sirius’ mouth pulls up on one side. “I’d love to be your friend, gorgeous.”

“So…” You pull up a blade of grass, carving it in half with your fingernail. “As long as we don’t say ‘I do,’ we don’t have to be married, but we don’t necessarily have to send you home before they’ve even decided anything, right?”

He leans forward interestedly. “Are you suggesting we let our families go through weeks of pointless negotiations, maybe even humor their beliefs that we like each other, just to break things off when it all comes to a head?”

“Well, we do like each other, don’t we?” You smile, and he beams back. “I don’t know, would that be okay with you?”

“Oh.” Sirius shakes his head at you, still grinning. “Sweetheart, you are even more fun than I imagined you’d be.”

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year ago

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Believe Me [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Home from a mission in the dead of night, Loki requires absolution (w/c 1.4k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smutty. Avenger!Loki. Established relationship. Mild sub!loki, non-toxic jealously, 'authorised' mild infidelity (missions, innit).

You had dozed, slipping between the fleeting embrace of slumber. Snatches came and went, the cool of your pillow turning hot before you turned it again.

Fat feathers crisped as you lowered your head. The finest Asgardian goose. Loki insisted. With each wave of consciousness, you tried not to think of your lover destructively flirting his way through a honeytrap mission tonight. The poor mark didn’t stand a chance. You checked the clock. 03.23.

But something feels different.

Sitting up, you squinted beyond the darkness.

On the far side of the room, a wing-back chair rose in the gloom. The draped silk of your discarded robe still hung over the armrest, but it shimmered. It was moving. Black became grey as your eyes adjusted, seeing pale fingers weaving silk between them.

You saw him now.

Legs crossed, back straight and chin dipped as he watched you sleep while he bathed in shadow. Curls sat effortlessly back from his face, slices of cheekbone protruding from blackest night.

The shade of his suit was at one with the leather behind, but Loki’s bright eyes smouldered; embers of starlight and dying galaxies deep in the darkness. “I didn’t wish to wake you, love” he murmured, pulling the silk hem through his fingers a final time before letting it fall.

One long leg unfurled over the other, the click of his heel meeting the floor making you clench beneath the bed-covers. You were wet already. So wet. Like your body could sense his presence, if not yet your mind. She always could.

Like a dream, you cast the duvet back and rose; bare feet padding across the boards towards him. Cool air sent gooseflesh rippling up your thighs, your arms; the curves of your body protected only by a flimsy camisole. Only a few more steps. The leather of the chair squeaked as his thighs spread against the sides. “Loki,” you breathed, cupping his face.

No sooner had the name left your lips than a row of candles flickered to life, illuminating him from behind. They floated in the air, rivulets of wax already spilling soft rolls down the sides. “Hel-lo,” he purred teasingly. One eyebrow cocked. And the threat of a smirk pressing against his cheeks.

For the first time, you noticed his unusual attire. A three piece suit, with its crowning glory the drip of starched ruffles cascading down his chest to the high waist of his trousers. He shifted in the chair, the pad of a fingertip brushing a close-lipped smile.

“Steve really went Ken-doll on you tonight, huh?” you teased, mirth ebbing to renewed desire as he drew the fingers to the bow-tie fastened at his neck.

He shrugged, tugging it slowly, letting the silk unfurl. It hung perfectly around his collar. You wondered if he would tie you up with it. You hoped he would.

In a flash, two large hands cupped your ass, pulling you down to his lap. With a gasp you managed to straddle him, slotting your knees on either side of his thick trunk. You kissed him deeply, savouring the softness of his tongue as it welled and licked and loved you. The ceremony was about to begin. His fingers spread against your cheeks, pulling and massaging as he groaned into your throat.

He tasted like jealousy. Traces of expensive perfume lingering on his skin and the faint hang of some rich whisky doing its best to conceal it. A thrill flooded through you, imagining the mark's desire roaring through her blood as she felt his muscle ripple beneath her touch. But Loki would never betray you, not beyond the emotionless tactics his position required.

Your thumb skated up his cheek, catching a patch of forgotten lipstick near his ear. Forgotten? No. You knew better than that. Whenever Loki came home from ensnaring a target with his wiles, he never missed the chance to make sure you knew who he belonged to. It was a mission. It was nothing. But ceremony must be upheld. His lips waxed and waned deeper, firing passion setting you alight. Every swallow was harsher and deeper than the last. Like he might lose you in the darkness. Loki grunted wetly as you scooted closer on his lap, chest flush to your colossus of a lover while his fingers wound in your hair. Your digits slid down his chest, feeling the ropes of muscle bound beneath starched folds. You broke apart just long enough to whisper the question he was waiting for. "You had to kiss this one?" You let the playful mist of a snarl hang on the air. Loki growled in response while you began working down his chin, along the long blade of his jawline. Letting the tip of your tongue run over the angle of his bone structure.

“Yes,” he rasped while you dropped lower, fastening to the slender muscle of his neck. You took a moment to appreciate his Adam’s apple work as he swallowed hard, ragged breaths ripping the air. His head fell back. “Only for a minute,” he panted to the ceiling. “It was perfunctory.”

Honestly from the god of lies, you’d found, was the greatest aphrodisiac of all.

“Where?” you asked, closing your eyes against his skin. “Against the wall,” he choked. His breaths were short. Loki’s fingernails grazed down the exposed skin between your shoulder-blades while you began to gently gyrate in circles. The god’s thick cock snaked down his thigh, ferociously hard against the tight fabric. At the mercy of your movements.

His brow creased as you slid back and forth, wetted lips parting with a needy gasp. “Did she want you?” you goaded, sliding the heel of your palm over one of his cheekbones. It raked through his hair. "Of course," he strummed, thighs beginning to tremble beneath your hips. Loki's hands ran in worship up the curve of your waist. "And did you want her?" you asked coyly. Loki pouted before a gentle tug of the camisole made your breasts spilled into his waiting hands. “Never,” he breathed; eyes flashing dangerously as he lifted them to meet yours. “Never.” You slid a hand down his torso, through the mass of white foliage ruffles which lapped against your palm in flickering candlelight. They were hard, and yet soft. Just like him. And stiff. That too, was a common attribute.

Slowly, you reached the button of his trousers. Loki thrust into the touch, biting his lip with a flinch. His brows knitted together.

One button popped beneath your fingers. Then two.

He leant forward, pushing your cleavage together and burying his face deep. The god’s nose slotted perfectly between the mounds of flesh he sought, drowning himself in the scent of you. The feel of you. His muffled moans of anticipation made you squirm on his lap, rubbing your bare pussy against his sprung manhood.

Pants and wet grunts of desire filled the air before Loki surfaced, kissing manically up the path to your lips. He consumed you again, his palm skating up the nape of your neck in a violent embrace. Waves of stiff ruffles grazed your nipples, sending electric shocks of pleasure to your dripping core. Had you ever needed him more than this? You were certain you had. But you couldn’t remember when.

Loki’s hands massaged your ass, pulling you deeper against his face. His shirt ruffles scratched your inner thighs, the tender caress making you mewl his name to the ceiling.

“Say you believe me,” he gasped in desperation.

It was a dark prayer. And a desperate one, at that. A ring of saliva was smeared across his lower face. The words chanted on repeat as your searching fingers lined him up between your slick thighs.

“Say you believe me,” he pleaded, slurring. His throat clung to the final syllable, rasping it through a torturous exhale.

The tip of his cock jarred against your slit, a sticky mess of pre-cum and arousal webbing with each slow buck. He was trembling with the effort of resistance.

He would not. Not until the ceremony of his forgiveness was complete.

You looked down at him, head resting against the back of the chair. Carefully coiffured hair now hung around his cheekbones, jutting at mussed angles. Half-lidded eyes observed you with reverence, submission. A pilgrim awaiting absolution. You smiled. Leaning in, you traced the taut vein popping in his neck. Felt every bob and tighten as he swallowed on your ascent. The little mewls from his pretty lips. And all the while, his hips rocked; cock licking and caressing your glistening sex.

The swirl of your tongue tasted bitter. Remnants of perfume from her wrists as she wound her arms around his neck, perhaps. But it would be gone soon. It always was. They always were. And you? You remained. You always did.

You reached the soft skin beneath his ear, humming a little before sucking his delicate lobe between your lips. “I believe you, baby” you whispered.

It was no more than a breath. The truth needs no more than a breath, you’d found. And with a broken sob of gratitude, Loki felt you sink deep onto his leaking cock.

Tags

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @buttercupcookies-blog @goddessofwonderland

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #loki laufeyson smut #loki odinson smut #loki imagine #loki mcu #loki x yn #loki x yn smut #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #lokismut #loki oneshot #avenger loki

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spideyanakin · 4 months ago

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summary - malfoy + slything! reader, sirius left home to be disowned, leaving you to be engaged to his little brother. You and regulus decide to play the game and pretend - this part is literally just r and reg comforting each other after their wedding!

warnings - platonic best friends + husband! regulus x reader, moonwater mentioned, mentions/ allusions to sex but it’s kind of poetic in an icky weird way

part of all I think about now - masterlist

You don’t know how long you had spent staring at the guilded ceiling. Definitely long enough to know how many carved Lys flowers painted in gold adorned each corner of the room. Enough to know how many laurel leaves were circling the chandelier’s hook.

The bed felt soft beneath you. A duvet of goose feathers, wrapped in white silk sheets that smelled like summer and roses.

Your corset felt suffocating in contrast to the light and softness of it all, and the pins in your hair were pulling your locks in places that you never wished would hurt again.

For a minute you felt as though you would never be able to breath again.

"So… this is really it, isn’t it?"

His soft voice broke your turmoil.

You turned your head to the side to look at him.

Regulus was in the same position as you. Sprawled out like a starfish over his side of the giant bed, hair tousled, jacket gone to the other side of the room and the few first button of his shirt popped open as he blankly gazed up at the ceiling.

Your mind seemed to finally comprehend.

You were married to Regulus.

You had travelled to France. You had been dolled up for hours until your entire body felt numb.

There was cake, champagne, an ungodly amount of congratulations from death eaters, and pure bloods. There were wedding vows, a binding of your magic to his. There was the Dark Lord, staring at you in all his charming glory, piercing eyes, and a sharp smile of approval as you walked inside the large hall of the chateau at the arm of your new husband.

Your skin was still burning from the fresh mark adorning your arm. He had insisted on doing it tonight, to mark the occasion. After all, you were now a woman of society, no more the schoolgirl being readied for her duties.

There wasn’t a world in which you could refuse the Dark Lord’s wedding gift.

It was burning and you hated it.

And then, when all the courtesies were said, the cakes eaten and drinks drunk, they finally set you free.

You had been driven to yet another chateau deeper into the French forests whose name you did not know. The place was smaller, with yet an even more splendid garden to drown your days in. It was owned by some follower of Lord Voldemort. Yet another good friend of your brother whose name you couldn’t even start to attempt to remember.

There was a staff of maybe ten house elves running around to prepare the home for your honey moon as you walked inside.

Once you had been shown to your suite, the door closing behind you in a snap of magic, your shoes had gone flying, and you caught sight of Reg’s jacket being thrown across the room as you threw yourself on the enormous bed. You barely felt the thud that followed as Regulus did the exact same thing.

"Are you alright?" He turned to look at you, after what felt like hours of silent rumination, meeting your eyes in a soft gaze.

"I am not sure," you whispered, afraid of your own voice.

He sighed. A deep sigh pouring from the depth of his chest as he shuffled to face you.

"You?"

"I am not sure either." He offered you a small smile, softly closing his eyes. Once he opened them again, he looked down at your arm, "how does it feel?"

You followed his eyes to the skull and snake now rudely drawn upon your forearm.

"It hurts," you mumbled, shuffling to lay on your side to face him as well.

"The pain will soothe in a few days…"

"It’s ugly."

That got a laugh out of him.

"I know."

"Who drew it for him?"

"I think the Dark Lord himself."

"Well he might be good at magic, but he is not a good artist."

He couldn’t help but smile at your complaints. He watched you gently rub your dark mark with the tip of your fingers, as your gaze went back to his face.

Regulus offered you his hand, which you took without a second thought. He squeezed your hand once it was securely against his, his thumb rubbing circles on your knuckles.

"How was last night?" You mumbled, face half hidden within the soft pillows. "Did you go?"

"I did," he spoke, barely above a whisper.

"Good, I’m proud of you," you squeezed his hand to accentuate your word. "How was he?" You met his eyes; there was a soft tragical sadness in them that made your heart twist in itself.

"Heartbroken, although he tried not to show it... But you were right."

"About?"

"I would have regretted it if I hadn't gone." You nodded in silent agreement.

"I know. I do not think he would have forgiven you either. Werewolf are famous for their grudges," you joked, which almost made him smile as you saw the soft memories of Remus flash before his eyes.

You watched as he softly played with your fingers, the pads of his own staying longer upon the golden band that now intertwined the two of you.

"How about you? How did it go?"

"It was devastating..." your voice wavered. "Devastatingly beautiful," closed your eyes as they started stinging.

The thought of Sirius's skin against your own, of the shared whispers and desperation in your voices. At the kisses that dragged until you ran out of your borrowed time.

You thought of him, of the glorious minutes where you only made one. Of his tears against your own, the ones swallowed by hopeless moans and gripping of flesh, hoping his skin would stay under the creases of your fingers, that his cells would forever stain your own. That you could slither yourself into his DNA, and stay there for eternity.

Your nose stung when you opened your eyes again.

"Sometimes I wished I had a time turner, but then, I do not know what I would change," you spoke as you met Regulus's stormy eyes.

"Nothing you could have done could have prevented this, Y/n. Sirius was always meant to leave this life."

"I know. I just wish," you dragged your words "that maybe, I had a similar destiny."

"I understand," he squeezed your hand once again.

"We will be alright, won’t we?"

"I think so," Regulus mumbled, offering you yet another soft smile, the ones you were the only witness of. "As long as we stick together."

"As long as we stick together."

#captain black 🫧#marauders 🫧#sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #regulus black imagine #regulus black #Sirius black x reader #Sirius black #sirius black fan fiction

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cdragons · 1 year ago

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"La Vie En Rose" - Ikaris x Eternal!Reader

Summary: You and Ikaris are finally ready to take a big step in your relationship. The two of you hare details about yourselves to really show how much you two have loved one another throughout your entire existence and since the failed Emergence.

Warning(s): MDNI 18+, very heavy smut in the beginning, loss of virginity, Persephone!Reader/Sephia is demisexual, spoilers, talk of WW2 and its aftermath, mention of suicide, Druig and Kaety are mentioned, almost character death, author tries to talk about music but has no musical background

Author's Notes: I think this might be the longest Ikaris oneshot ever on Tumblr, with a whopping 9.2k word count. For context, I would go to this masterlist, and read the very first post. I would like to thank Grammarly for making sure I don't write like a hill-billy. A huge thanks to @ethereal-athalia for her help. A lot of these ideas could not have been done without her input. I hope y'all have a wonderful Valentine's Day! I also plan to make a Valentine's Day for Druig x Hecate!Reader

Inside the Ritz’s Suite Chopin in Paris, clothes were sprawled across the room. Your dress had pooled on the ground where Ikaris zipped it off you as soon as the door closed. His suit jacket and tie had been removed before you two entered the room. Despite how frantic your movements may have seemed on the outside, you and your lover knew that this moment had been long overdue.

The blue rings in his eyes thinned as his pupils widened at the sight of your strapless bra with its matching lacy cheeky-cut underwear and garter belt. After you ripped his dress shirt and buttons flew across the room, you marveled at the mass of muscle and heavenly skin by softly revering his body with your touch.

You traced every scar and line on his body as if handling a priceless painting. Ikaris sharply hissed at the feeling of your feather touch ghosting over his body. He responded by lifting you in his arms and wrapping your legs above his hips while he kept a firm grip on your soft, ample bottom. He felt your muscles tense before relaxing, and your body melted into his embrace as if the two of you were bodies were born to be together.

“I love you,” he whispered with each kiss he pressed on your skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Ikaris,” you panted, “don’t stop. Please don’t ever stop.”

Trailing kisses down your neck, your lover never took his lips off yours as he carried you across the living room to the boudoir covered with pomegranate flowers. Laying your body gently on the goose feather duvets, Ikaris stood utterly captivated by how your hair framed your face like an ethereal halo.

The sight was nothing short of heavenly.

The luminosity of the moonlight shining through the overhead window gave your form a celestial glow. Your divine figure, added with the contrast of colors from the blossoms on the stark bedspread, made him wonder if this was all a wonderful dream instead of his cruel reality.

Sensing his fear that you were only an illusion, you sat up and took Ikaris’ hand from his side to press a gentle kiss on his palm.

“Ikaris, I am here. I am with you. We are together – now and forever, forever and always.”

Overwhelmed with happiness, your immortal paramour felt a mountainous burden topple down as the relief of knowing this moment was not a figment of his imagination. His Adam’s apple bobbed as tears welled up in his iridescent blue irises.

Ikaris brought his other hand to cup your other cheek before lowering himself to plant a feathery kiss on your forehead. He closed his eyes – savoring the feel of your skin on his lips as he tried to memorize the scent of your hair with the fragrance of the pomegranate flowers surrounding you.

“Ikaris,” you softly begged, “please kiss me.”

And who was he to refuse such a sweet request?

Pressing his lips to yours, Ikaris felt you lower yourself until your back was fully pressed against the bedspreads underneath them. No matter how much his lungs clenched for air, he refused to part for even a breath of air. But you softly pushed him back. Ikaris opened his eyes – prepared to ask if you needed to stop. But he stopped himself at the sight of your lust-filled eyes with the blush on the apple of your cheeks. You reached behind your back and unclasped the hooks of your brassiere before removing the rest of your undergarments.

Time slowed down frame by frame as Ikaris watched you further reveal yourself to him. A part of your hair fell forward to cover your breasts as you lowered your head and fixated on your gaze on the silky scarlet petal of the flower you rubbed between your fingers. Scars and marks dotted your body from battles between deviants in the past. Ikaris knew he was the only man you let see so much.

You sighed as you couldn’t help but feel like shrinking into the shadows as he stared.

“I don’t…I know I’m not as pretty as most of the women you’ve slept with. My body is a bit…, and I’m not as willowy and lovely as Kaety or Sersi. Even Thena is so beautiful and strong. My hips have a weird dip and –” You felt like crying for ruining the moment. “I’m making this so awkward – I’m so sorry.”

Ikaris quietly sat across you for a moment. Then he tipped your chin, and you were forced to look at his stern expression but heated gaze.

“Sephia, your body…it’s lovely. There isn’t a woman or creature more beautiful than you.”

You scoffed inelegantly, but Ikaris shook his head.

“I’m serious. Sephia, I – everything about you is so mind-bogglingly wonderous and beautiful. I have thought so since we first met on the Domo. Who could possibly have given you the idea otherwise?”

You leaned into his chest and let out a deep sigh. “It was no one in particular. I just noticed that men continually gawked at my chest whenever we settled into a new location. They would always stare when I wasn’t looking. Sometimes, when they were drunk, they would tug on my dress and comment that I was either too big or too small. It’s why I preferred to wear their clothing. I thought I attracted too much attention from my Olympian Attire, so I hoped to be noticed less in their garbs. I tried telling Ajak, but she told me not to pay attention to their actions since they were only curious. But it didn’t stop until I told Kaety.”

Hearing your explanation, Ikaris’ hold on you tightened. Once more, he was in your friend’s debt. How dare those lowly men cause you so much strife? Had he known of your troubles, he would have ensured that those fools feared for their lives. But he knew if you were aware of his thoughts, it would only push you away – so he remained quiet.

Instead, he planted a gentle kiss on both of your cheeks and whispered to you how honored he was for this moment. His hands caressed your thighs, and he had your legs straddled on his hips as he made sure you were comfortable on his lap. He let you take the lead by wrapping your arms over his shoulders and groaned at the feeling of you pressing his chest against your bare bust.

The way he moaned your name made your stomach clench. “Sephia. Thank you. I will show you how beautiful to me– tonight and every night from now on if you’ll permit me.”

You nodded your head against the crook of his neck. You didn’t trust your voice to convey your love for the man with you tonight.

But Ikaris needed more. “Say it, Sephia. Look me in the eye and tell me if you want us to continue.”

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head to show your trust. “I want you to continue.”

Bringing you in for a heated kiss, Ikaris and you explored each other’s bodies with your hands as your lips were locked in a familiar embrace. He then trails kisses down your chin and travels down your neck and across the tops of your breasts. You wondered if he could hear how hard your heart was beating against the confines of your rib cage as you panted for air.

Ikaris used one hand to cup one of your flushed breasts covered in love bites and kisses. On the other, he put his mouth on your puckered nipple and swirled his tongue around the areola.

You slowly rocked your hips and whispered for more. “Ikaris, Ikaris, Ikaris – more, more, please.”

Your body was his paradise, and you were his angel. Everything about you – the perfume of your skin, the silky luster of your hair, the addictive scent of your arousal – it was both all too much and never enough.

Switching breasts to continue his services, Ikaris wondered if he could get you to cum without directly touching you down there. He felt emboldened by the challenge with the breathless praises spilling from your lips that were swollen and red from his kisses.

He traveled down to your navel while continuing to trace his tongue and lips across your skin until he stopped at your navel. Dipping his tongue into your navel region, your initial reaction was a giggle, but then he used both of his hands to reach for your abandoned mounds to massage them. The rough calluses on his fingers gave way to new sensations unbeknownst to you, making your laughter change to moans.

Arching your back, you called out his name with your sweet voice. “Ikaris- Ikaris! It’s too…it’s too much!”

As you arched your back, you pushed your chest further into his hands. He tendered cupped them before giving them a hard squeeze and then used his fingers to pinch your nipples. Twisting and tugging them brought tears to your eyes as the pleasure from the attention he granted to your bosom with the swirling of his tongue in your navel.

The feel of Ikaris’ hot tongue contrasting with the cooling spit from his saliva only added to your rapture. You felt your stomach tighten into an invisible coil as you clawed and grasped onto the bed covers to ground you. The coil became tighter and tighter until your lips started to tremble as your core clenched around nothing, and your mouth opened to let out no noise as your vision went white. Your body squirmed, and you clamped your legs to unsuccessfully quell the sensations.

Ikaris’ mouth traveled down to your nether lips as he removed his hands from your breasts to spread your legs and put them over his shoulders. Although the sight of the Eternals’ strongest fighter between your legs was certainly an arousing view, you couldn't contain snorting at the absurdity of it all.

Your cerulean-eyed beloved raised a quizzical brow to showcase his offended feelings.

“And what, pray tell, do you find so amusing right now, flower?” he asked in a monotone voice.

“I’m sorry-” you couldn’t stop laughing “-I’m so sorry – I just never imagined being in this situation with you – with anyone.”

He gave you a flat look for you to continue.

You went on with your explanation. “For so long, I have never felt this way. You- you aren’t the first person I’ve been with – romantically, at least – but I could never feel myself wanting to go further. It always felt like something was stopping me. For so long, I thought something was wrong with me. And then, after talking with Kaety and Phastos, I thought I might be asexual. But it hadn’t been until those moments we spent in the field outside the village that I- I felt a bond transform from friendship to what I didn’t realize to be love to- to this.”

You stopped laughing and lifted your torso on one elbow to reach him. You cupped his face with one hand, and Ikaris nuzzled his face into your palm – welcoming the feel of your silky touch. In your eyes, there was enough love to make the world outside this room disappear.

“I haven’t felt this way for anyone but you. It was such an unexpected surprise, but I wasn’t scared. I think it was because- well, despite everything, I never felt unsafe around you. Ikaris, the years I spent with you after Thanos’ Snap and before the Emergence were some of the happiest years of my life. I don’t think there are words to describe how much I love you.”

It was only when you stroked your thumb on his cheek that Ikaris realized he was crying. As Ajak’s most trusted and loyal soldier, he had an image of stability to maintain. Before his suicide attempt in flying to the sun, he could count the number of times he cried throughout his life on one hand.

The first was when a deviant managed almost to sever his spine. The pain was so terrible. It took the efforts of Ajak and Kaetlyn to stop him from bleeding out and close the gash, but not without a garish scar across his back.

The second was when you left him and what remained of the team after Kaetlyn and Druig left in response to the genocide of Tenochtitlan citizens from Spanish conquistadors. He was hurt and felt betrayed. He called you weak and naïve to believe that you, Kaet, and Druig had better judgment than Arishem for humanity’s future. While your leaving broke his heart, his sobbing resulted from the pained look on your face from his words. He cried for three days after your departure.

The third time was after he killed Ajak. It broke his heart to kill the one he admired and followed for so long. She wanted to stop the Emergence and stop Arishem’s Grand Design of the birth of a new Celestial. But to do so was to condemn you to a slow and painful death, and Ajak knew that. The Avengers destroyed your regained health when they brought back the rest of humanity.

Ikaris knew that destroying the planet you loved so much would have brought you more pain than your illness, but it was humanity that weakened you so much from the beginning. If the Emergence must occur, Ikaris was sure he could ask Ajak to convince Arishem to allow him to keep his memories. If he had, he would have been able to love you from the beginning of everyone’s rebirth.

But he failed, and it nearly cost him you and your sister. The memory Druig implanted in his mind would haunt him forever. It was so unnatural to see Kaety so lifeless, so cold. The sight and Aisling’s screams with Laoise’s cries made it worse.

The fourth was when he stood before Sersi as her frame kneeled atop Tiamut’s emerging body. You lay unconscious as you allowed your new leader to use your cosmic energy to kill the infant Celestial but also to use your body as a medium to use the Celestial’s infinite amount of cosmic energy to revitalize the Earth. Standing in front of his sister as she kneeled next to your body, Sersi was ready to accept her death at her brother’s hand. But Ikaris could not steel his resolve to aim his heat vision at her heart.

He could not kill his sister – not when she was the one person he could ever love as much as he does you. She was the only person who trusted more than anyone in the world. She knew all his secrets and was the first to realize his love for you.

Just as Kaetlyn was your sister, Sersi was his. And so all he could do was let himself be used to destroy Tiamut, give one final goodbye to his sister, and give you one final kiss before he flew to the sun.

Your voice broke him from his thoughts. “Ikaris? Are you all right?”

“Yes, flower,” he answered with a smile. “Thank you.”

“‘Thank you?’ Whatever for?” Your confused expression was so utterly adorable.

“Everything, I suppose,” he said while shrugging. “Sephia, you said you never imagined making love to anyone for thousands of years. But for me, it was all I could think about with you. As I said that night on the balcony, ‘I was made to love you.’ And I will say these words and show you how much I mean them for however long you permit me.”

Your heart sang out to his at his sweet words. You reached to pull him down for a kiss before whispering in his ear.

“Ikaris, will you make love to me?”

“Yes,” came his immediate answer. “But first, I must prepare you.”

“Has that not been what you’ve been doing so far?”

Your immortal worshiper gave you a lascivious grin in response. “My petal, this had only been the beginning.”

Your hands clenched his hair in a feeble attempt to get him to ease Ikaris’ feasting. But all your actions brought were him spreading your legs further apart. The feeling of his tongue flitting over your clit as he drove fingers to furiously thrust inside your cervix to the point of making you weep in ecstasy.

It started with one, then it became two. Soon, he added the third, and the pain from the stretch quickly drove you to a state of nymphomania. It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, and it was far more intense than its predecessor. You felt your body spasm for a little bit before relaxing into the mattress as Ikaris languidly stroked your walls to carry out your climax for as long as possible.

This wasn’t the first time he had eaten you out, but it was the first time he could do so without interruptions.

As your essence spilled on his tongue, Ikaris let out an obtusely loud, close-mouthed groan, and its vibrations added to your overstimulation. Your body’s nectar was ambrosia worthy to be tasted only by gods. It was addictive enough for an Eternal such as himself to get drunk on it and crave its taste for all eternity.

He removed himself from the bed before frantically unbuckling his belt and stripping himself of his black slacks and boxer briefs. The way his shaft sprung out and its head hit Ikaris’ naval region made your eyes widen. It must have been around eight inches long, and the sight of it made you unconsciously clamp your legs close. It was pulsing dark pink with veins running along its length, and its head looked so swollen and red that it neared to purplish hue with a pearly white bead of precum leaking out.

You’ve seen corpses and anatomical diagrams. Kaety was the more explicit one out of the two of you. She had no qualms sharing even the most graphic details of Druig’s…thing.

But this was the first time you saw it in person, and you didn’t realize men could be so…big.

“Does it hurt…being like that?” you hesitantly asked as you reached forward to touch it. But he softly grasped your hand from getting too close.

Ikaris chuckled at your innocence. “It doesn’t hurt per se, but it is very sensitive. And if you touch it, I cannot promise you that I will last long enough to enjoy it.”

Kneeling on the bed, he carefully grabbed his length and positioned it just outside your soaking womanhood.

He cupped your cheek and brought your eyes to him. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? Don’t think about me. Do you want this?”

Looking into his eyes, you drowned in the overwhelming sea of love that was his beautiful blue eyes. You admit you still felt a twinge of fear. But more than fear, more than lust and desire, you felt safe. What you shared with Ikaris was more than how you ever hoped to feel with someone. It was real – what you shared with this man was true and went beyond physical attraction. Your bond with him had only grown stronger since his return; nothing would ever change that.

“I’m ready,” you whispered as you felt the increasing rate of your heartbeat. “I love you, Ikaris. With all of me.”

He positioned his cock until its head had just entered you. You sharply sucked in a breath.

“I’ll do my best to make it as painless as possible. Take a deep breath if you need to. I won’t move until you feel like you’ve adjusted to it. We can go as slow or as fast as you want. I promise.”

“I know,” you replied. “I trust you.”

He gently pushed himself inside you inch-by-inch. The stretch of your walls around his manhood was almost painful. He was halfway inside you when you asked him to pause with two thin trails of tears running down your eyes.

“I just -” you gasped, “- I just need a minute.”

Ikaris softly stroked your cheek before catching a tear under your eye. “It’s okay. Take all the time you need.”

When you nodded to show you were ready, Ikaris continued to insert himself inside you until he fully bottomed out slowly. When he reached his hilt, he let out a mighty groan and husky rasp as you took a sharp and loud intake of breath. Despite how well-lubricated you were, the stretching of your cervix to accommodate his size was more than you expected. Thankfully, your lover did not move for the sake of you being able to adjust to the feel of him inside your tight walls.

Ikaris propped himself on one of his elbows as he hovered above you. He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his moans, but the feeling of him being swallowed by your warmth was more euphoric than he could ever dream it to be. He lowered his head enough to kiss away the tears from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered so sweetly. “This discomfort will pass, my love. I will not move until you are ready.”

Thank the stars he prepped you earlier. If he hadn’t, you weren’t sure you would have been able to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It was the strangest sensation. You felt so full – as evidenced by the slight bulge protruding from your lower stomach – but the fullness was almost comforting.

It was evidence that you and your love joined bodies and became one.

You slowly wrapped your legs around Ikaris’ waist. Despite the discomfort, you wanted to feel as close and connected to the beautiful man hovering above you as possible. Soon, the pain lessened to a sting, and it dulled further before shifting to pleasure. It was not long before you craved the friction from Ikaris’ shaft moving inside you and slowly began grinding your hips against him to ease the ache inside you.

Ikaris could feel the fluttering of your cervix and your walls becoming more slick from your increasing arousal. Feeling your hips moving against him, he couldn’t stop the teasing leer at your squirming and the soft moans and whimpers leaving your lips.

“Does it feel good? I wonder how it would feel if I did this–” he pushed his hips to give a shallow thrust and reveled at the way your back was so beautifully arched.

Your cries were no longer laced with pain but adorned with shock from the unexpected pleasure.

“Oh? You like that?” he chuckled in smug amusement. “Fuck, your body is so responsive. You have no idea how much your sweet cries add to my ego.”

“I-Ikaris!” you stammered as you frantically moved your hips. “Please!”

“Please what, my flower?” he teased. “You know I can’t do anything until you provide explicit instructions.”

You wailed in frustration. “You know what I mean, you cruel man! I-I need you to m-move! I want to feel everything! PLEASE!”

Throwing all inhibitions to the wind, Ikaris gave you precisely what you wanted by giving hard, powerful drives. The squelch of your folds from each thrust was downright sinful and caused you to cry out his name. The slapping of his hips against your thighs, coupled with his gruff grunts and your high-pitched mewls, made for the most erotic symphony.

You felt so embarrassed by your reactions, but there was no use in holding back your reactions. You put your arm over your eyes to maintain some semblance of dignity, but Ikaris pinned it down to the side of your head. You opened your eyes to see if your lover was as out of control as you.

You were shocked to see how nearly black his eyes were, with almost no evidence of his lapis-lazuli irises. His lips had a thin, wet sheen of film covering them, and his hair was wholly tousled and unkempt from his usual militant style – a result of you running your fingers through it and yanking it.

“Oh no, don’t you dare cover your face,” he rasped. “I’ve waited for this moment for seven thousand years. All those years of watching those men stare at you with lustful eyes – every soldier, king, even fucking Thor. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it – what right did I have to do so? But tonight- tonight, I ensure that you will never want anyone else but me.”

You shook your head. “No…only you- I only want you, Ikaris. I swear!”

“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he cooed. “You feel so perfect – gripping me so tight. Do you feel as good as I do, my flower? Can you feel how I was made for you? As you were made for me? Can you feel how greedy your cunt is for me – I fit so perfectly inside you.”

The euphoria between you two reached such a crescendo that your bodies were frantically rocking against each other at an erratic tempo. You reached forward to cling onto his shoulders as you brought him in a close embrace. The only thing that mattered to you was the man above you and the love overflowing between you. The only thing that mattered to Ikaris was the feeling of you under him and knowing this wasn’t a dream.

The rest of the world disappeared, and the noise from the festivities of the City of Lights became white noise. The only sounds you could register in your lust-hazy mind were Ikaris’ hoarse groans and hushed gasps. The only sounds Ikaris could hear while in his bliss-intoxicated state were your breathless whimpers and sharp cries.

The two of you looked less like the gods humanity regaled in myths and legends and more akin to wild beasts. The sight of your legs tightly wrapped around Ikaris’ waist and the vulgar rings of the slapping of skin from him pounding into you was sinful. The feel of your full and soft breasts rubbing against his hard pecs only heightened the pleasure.

The familiar coil in your stomach returned, and its intensity was reaching a point of almost unbearable pleasure. All you could do was continue to cling to your lover with your nails dragging down his back as he continued to slam into you. Ikaris cursed under his breath at the feeling of your nails scraping long red marks on the skin of his back. He felt your walls start to tighten to show that you were reaching your peak. He increased his tempo to a relentless pace as he felt your walls continue to grip him.

With his newfound vigor, you became all the more aware of how he dragged each and every inch of his cock in and out of you. Your cunt wept at the way his new pace made you stretch even wider to accommodate for all of him. His rough patch of curls around the base of his cock hitting your swollen clit made your mind go blank.

“Ikaris!” you wailed. “Slow – slow down! I think – I think I’m going to – oh, FUCK!”

“Let go, Sephia,” Ikaris grunted. “I want to feel your cunt gripping my cock. I want to feel your walls creaming around me as your womb begs for my cum to fill so much that it leaks.”

Refusing to part from you, he snaked his arm to the space between your legs to press your swollen clit. The pressure from his fingers pinching your nub broke the dam inside you as your juices sprayed and soaked Ikaris’ manhood and naval region. Your back arched, and your legs trembled while the rest of your body pathetically spasmed from the intensity of your release. Your vision went white, and your mind was filled with blissful static as drool dribbled out of your mouth, hanging open at the sheer shock from the release of pressure.

When you came around him, Ikaris gripped the sheets so hard that he heard a faint rip as he felt a mass of textiles clump in his hand. If the fluttering of your cunt was heavenly, then the feeling of your walls clenching so hard around him as you sprayed your essence around him was euphoria. Using both hands, he unhooked your legs around his waist and spread them wide apart until your feet dangled by his head. The new position allowed him to reach so deep in you that he felt the tip of his shaft hitting the entrance of your womb.

He chased the end of his release as you senselessly babbled – your mind was too far gone from your climax, and all you could do was take all of him until he was done himself. It was not long until he felt his body tense, and he thrust himself into you to the hilt and came with a thunderous shout that echoed with your loud cries. The shift of all his weight ramming into the warm and wet hole that greedily latched onto him brought you a new sensation so pleasurable that it rocked on the edge of pain. The spilling of his hot seed inside your womb made you further cling onto him as tears streamed down your cheeks – as if melding your bodies into one being.

Ikaris completely let go of all of his tensions as he lay on top of you – panting for air. Your heart was racing as you tried to catch your breath. For a few minutes, the two of you only wanted to bask in the feel of you together in the aftermath of your lovemaking.

Not wanting to crush you with his weight, Ikaris gently tried to pry himself off you. He thought it would be best to grab a wet rag to help clean you or at least give you some water, but you refused to let go.

“I like feeling you inside me,” you whispered, your voice was a bit hoarse from your screams and cries.

His voice sounded more gruff than usual as he chuckled. “You shouldn’t say such things unless you’re prepared for another round. And by the looks of it, I think you’ve had enough for one night – especially for your first time.”

Ikaris stroked your cheek as he smiled at the sight of you. Your hair was tousled, and your skin was flushed to a lovely hue. There was not a patch of your neck that was not completely littered with red splotches from his bites and kisses. Your eyes were wet from the tears that streamed down your cheeks, and there was a small trail of drool from your mouth.

You were the very image of erotic perfection – only to ever be seen by him.

“…Was it good?” he hesitantly asked. “How do you feel?”

“I feel…at peace,” you replied after a few moments of thinking. “I don’t really feel any different from before. I certainly wouldn’t object to doing it again. But I just feel…content- and happy. Does that make sense?”

You felt your love’s feather-soft lips press against your hairline. “Yes, it does. But are you sure you don’t want to clean yourself? I know your thighs will feel…sticky in the morning if we don’t wipe it off.”

You shook your head. “No, I just want you here with me.”

“At least let me get you a glass of water,” he reasoned. “Believe me when I say you’ll be grateful for it in the morning.”

“Fine,” you relented with a pout. “Hurry back.”

He lowly chuckled as he lowered himself to plant a soft kiss on your temple.

When Ikaris returned with your water, he found you bundled under a cocoon of the bed’s sheets and covers. Shaking his head in amusement, he placed the glass on the nightstand on your side of the mattress. He carefully lifted the covers, not to wake you from your well-deserved slumber, and crawled under them before gently shifting your body in his arms.

As Ikaris closed his eyes and felt the beckoning lull of slumber reach him, he swore he could hear the tune of a trumpet blowing as a rich timber voice sang a familiar song that held a special place in his heart.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

With a peaceful smile on his face, Ikaris dreamt of a dear memory. It happened in Paris only over seventy years ago. He recalls the day he first heard the phrase ‘rose-colored glasses’ as if it were only yesterday. Unbeknownst to him, you were playing the same memory in your sleep.

Paris in February 1948 was a less-than-ideal time. The weather was dismal, and the air was filled with smog and cigarette smoke. The snow surrounding him more resembled ash blown from a forest fire than frozen ice particles falling from the heavens. People were still hurting from the losses they suffered in the war. The industry was ruined, food was severely rationed, and housing was in short supply. The once luminescent City of Lights and her people were living in misery.

But Ikaris’ longing to see you was greater than his misery.

You had been visiting the graves of soldiers and victims across France every February since the signing of the Paris Peace Treaties in 1947. While there were thousands of unmarked graves, you knew the names of each fallen soldier and nameless body. The Earth whispered each person's tale as their blood spilled to the ground. You would breathe their name to a single red poppy before laying the bloom on the ground. It was too little while also being too late, but you wanted to show your thanks.

Your heart ached at the thought of anyone crossing over without someone remembering them. You walked these hallowed grounds because these brave men and women had fought for that privilege. You walked to honor and thank them.

It was what Kaety and Phastos would have wanted. It was what James would have wanted.

Feeling a sudden shift in the air, you did not need to look to know who had joined you.

“Hello, Ikaris,” you greeted your friend while still kneeling on the ground. “What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to see you,” he replied. “Is that not what friends do?”

You bitterly laughed under your breath. You finally stood from the ground to face your old “friend.” It hurt to see how beautiful he remained despite how he impassively stared at you – as if you meant nothing to him.

“Are we still friends?” you asked. “After everything?”

If your questions hurt him, Ikaris had not let it be shown. But he at least had the decency to soften his tone and look down at his feet, slightly admonished.

“I suppose I deserve that,” he answered. He looked up to face you once more. “Sephia, I…I missed you.”

A new wave of tears threatened to spill as you scoffed at his words.

“Cruel man,” you inwardly wept. “Cruel, cruel man.”

“Forgive me for my reaction,” you scornfully replied. “But I find that a bit hard to believe, considering how we left things between us last time.”

The last time you had seen Ikaris was over fifty years ago when he visited you in the small open field outside Kaety and Druig’s commune. It was your usual meeting place for the past two centuries. It was close enough to the village that Kaety still felt your presence but far enough to ensure your meeting remained private.

The first time he came, you were so happy to see Ikaris. You were terrified at the idea of him forever hating you for joining Kaety and Druig in seclusion. He had criticized you for going against Arishmen’s orders. He told you it mattered little of what you and Kaety did – humanity was doomed to fail.

The last you heard from Kingo was that Ikaris had disappeared from Earth. No one had seen him since Ajak sent all of you away – not even Sersi or Sprite.

His reaching out to you over everyone else meant so much to you. Perhaps it was selfish, but it made you happy to know your talks and meetings with Ikaris were done without anyone’s knowledge. Not even Kaety knew of his presence. You two would talk about the world that was changing around them while reminiscing about the world that had passed.

With each talk, you felt your bond with your friend strengthen. With each meeting, your attachment to Ikaris became more profound as you often craved to see him just hours after he left. Your feelings grew to the point where you could no longer contain them. It felt like you had laid your entire heart on the line.

“Would you stay here?” you softly asked. “Would you stay here with me?”

And then he left, leaving you in the field by yourself.

“Did you hate the idea–” you hastily inhaled to stop your voice from breaking “– of staying here so much? Could you really have not found any joy in what I do here for those people?”

Ikaris reached out to hold you in his arms.

“No,” he whispered in your hair. “No, Flower, that’s not it. I swear… I swear that’s not it.”

He should not have come. If he were a better man, he would have let you hate him until you could forget him. But he knew you were alone, and his selfishness won out in the end.

“Then why?” you cried. His shirt muffled your words, but your voice broke his heart. “Why did you leave? Why didn’t you come back? Every year, I waited in that field! Because I thought our friendship meant something to you! But you never came!”

“Sephia,” he explained, “I could have never been who you needed me to be for those villagers. I have nothing to offer them but my combat skills.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you tell him. “Everything you told me that night – you were right. It doesn’t matter what any of us do. Humans will destroy everything themselves. Just look where we are now.”

You and he looked at the thousands of white crosses that stood from the ground. You still had nightmares about the bodies surrounding you as hundreds of soldiers entered your tents – only to pass away from their fatal injuries. So many graves without names were men and women you treated before you had to bury them.

Kaety still woke up every night screaming at the horrors and abuse of the victims of Unit 731. What remained of the records of Ishii Shiro and his use of anthrax and the plague as biological warfare would haunt her for the rest of her life. Her thrashing had almost gotten to the point where she ordered Druig to sedate her if she ever accidentally hurt herself or him.

Phastos was practically left in a continuous catatonic state after leaving the site of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But during the times he came back, he could only weep out apologies to the millions of victims for his interference with humanity’s technology from the beginning.

“Was everything we thought we were building for nothing?” you asked. “Was this planet and its people doomed from the start?”

Ikaris only stood silently. He wondered if he was more cruel not to tell you the truth of Arishem’s grand plan after Ajak told him so long ago. But he wanted to see your smile for however long he had left. You were so proud of your creations, and rightfully so. Not knowing what else to do, he figured to let his actions speak more than his words.

“Can I show you something?”

He took you in his arms when you nodded. He lifted the two of you to a dark alley in Paris next to the Seine. The lights surrounding them with the people walking along the river bank made the night cold winter night less cold and desolate than the hopelessness you felt in your heart.

It was a pretty sight, but the view couldn’t have been the only reason why Ikaris brought you here.

“Look around you.” He spread his arms to emphasize his point. “What do you see?”

“…Litter and pollution?”

“Besides that.”

You tried to look harder. “Ummmm…people?”

“Exactly, people who are alive. A florist who sells flowers in the spring to young lovers because she wants to share the fruits of your labor with the world. Families who tour the Gardens of Versailles because they want to bask in the splendor.”

You understood Ikaris’ point. You were the one who tried to explain it all to him for so long, but everything seemed so hopeless now.

“Sephia,” he spoke your name to break you from your thoughts. “What you brought into this world was not for nothing. It never was. You are why people can find beauty and joy in the simplest pleasures.”

You wanted to say something – anything. But words failed to come to you. They always had during the most important events. Suddenly, you heard the melody of one of France’s favorite songs creep into your ear. You felt your Ikaris softly grasp your hand as he gently led the two of you to the direction of the melody.

It was a mixed jazz band playing in the middle of a packed Place Vendôme. They were playing La Vie En Rose.

The symphony of clarinets and flutes made for a beautiful melody. The saxophone altos, French horn, and trombone gave the song a homophonic texture. But the real star of the ensemble was the trumpet. It added a sense of joy and lightheartedness that so deeply contrasted the past decade.

“A favorite demon of yours told me this song was all the rage in France a few ago,” he quipped. “Care to show me why?”

You rolled your eyes. “You really need to stop calling Kaety that. She’ll bite your head off for being unable to think of a new nickname after seven thousand years.”

Ikaris took a few steps forward before turning to you and held out his hand. You only stared at it before realizing the meaning of his gesture. You stared at his face with wide eyes and a gaped mouth to represent your shock.

“You,” you choked out, “want to dance? In the middle of the square?”

Ikaris only shrugged. “Why not?”

“But…but, there’s just – there’s so many people around!” you stammered.

“That’s never stopped you before in Reykjanesskagi.”

“That was during the Maiden’s Day festival!”

“You know, you’re starting to hurt my feelings with how long you’ve kept my arm like this.”

You huffed out a breath in annoyance before you reluctantly reciprocated the gesture. Ikaris must have known that you wouldn’t refuse a dance, especially a dance to one of your favorite songs. You hated bringing attention to yourself, but you loved to dance. You didn’t know what it was – but you could always lose yourself in the notes as your body moved in tandem with the tune. Whenever there was a festival or celebration in any city where the Eternals were stationed, you and Kaety would disguise yourselves as peasants or low-born nobility to fade into the background. So often, you would lose yourself in joy that you would accidentally make flowers bloom around you, even in the harshest winters.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Ikaris pulled you close to his chest. One hand was placed on the small of your back while one of your hands clutched on his shoulder. But the other was firmly clasped in his other hand. Before you began, you saw a few other pairs sway to the band. It eased your nerves to know that you and he were the only pair dancing in the historical square.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça m'fait quelque chose

Everyone around you seemed to be dancing in slow, expressive, rhythmic steps, resembling an American-style bolero. Given the time and place, it was only natural that Ikaris took the lead. You were prepared to offer instructions, but he surprised you again by showing how comfortable he was in the role and steps.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you remarked.

Ikaris looked slightly embarrassed as his cheeks reddened. “Sersi taught me. She basically threatened to castrate me if I refused to dance at a speakeasy we frequented in New York in the 20s.”

“Sersi?” you snorted out as he spun and dipped you. “Sersi threatened you? Our Sersi? Lying is a very unbecoming quality, Ikaris. I didn’t think you’d be one to develop it.”

“Oh, if only I could make up such a tale,” replied Ikaris as he grabbed your waist before lifting you without struggle. “Sersi’s can be downright terrifying if she wants to be. Ask Kingo – he’s the only other person who’s seen her like that.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling out of your throat. And as the band continued to play, you and Ikaris swayed, dipped, and spun for hours. Over three hours had passed by the time the band was finished for the night. When you stopped, all you could do was stare into your friend’s eyes in a rose-hued haze before a thunderous round of applause broke you out of your dreamlike state and into reality. A sizable crowd had surrounded the two of you – hoots, hollers, and whistles accompanied the applause. Your impromptu performance enchanted men, women, children, and even pets.

“Bisou!” called out from a random face in the crowd. It wasn’t long before the call became a chant.

“Bi-sou! Bi-sou! Bi-sou! Bi-sou!”

Feeling suddenly emboldened, you cupped your Ikaris’ face and kissed his cheek softly. The following whistles and cheers would have made you wish to disappear – had it not been for the sweet peck Ikaris placed between the furrow of your brow.

All of a sudden- without even knowing it at the time- the world seemed brighter, and the air started to smell like roses.

Ikaris woke up to the feeling of gentle poking on his cheek. Hearing the swallows sing and feeling the warm sunlight on his skin, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at peace. He turned his body in your direction before opening his eyes. He was immediately blessed with your bright eyes and sweet smile. Raking his eyes down your body, it looked like you wore his dress shirt from last night.

He adored the way it draped over your curves – especially with how it showed off your legs.

“Are you ready for your Valentine’s Day present?” you asked with poorly contained excitement. Judging by how your smile went ear-to-ear, you practically bounced out of your skin.

Ikaris furrowed his brows in puzzlement. “Was last night not my present?”

You rolled your eyes. “Why would sex be your present? I thought I made it pretty clear that I hadn’t expected the night to turn in that direction.”

“Well then,” he chucked in amusement over your flushed cheeks and pout, “what is my present?”

Your eyes shone in delight as you lightly kicked your feet against the mattress. “You’ll have to get out of bed for that! Come on!”

You dashed into the next room while Ikaris wrapped the sheets around him before locating his briefs and grabbing a pair of gray sweatpants in his luggage. Once putting them on, he stretched out his back and arms from behind the balcony window before opening it and letting in some air to freshen the room.

When he crossed to the piano room, he was mildly surprised when he saw you seated at the pianoforte. You pressed the keys to carefully listen if the instrument needed any additional tuning. Satisfied that the pitch wasn’t flat, you turned to Ikaris, who was leaning under the doorway.

“Are you ready?” you asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” he replied.

You positioned your fingers over the right keys while straightening your posture. Clearing your throat, you began to play at Adagio. Your body swayed to the melody as if you had become one with the instrument. Every key you lovingly caressed let out a note sounding so beautifully as if the music came alive just for you. You closed your eyes before you began singing.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

Ikaris’ eyes widened. Were you playing…had you –

But his thoughts were interrupted as your rich singing broke through his stupor. Your sweet voice was soaked in honey and laced with the roses from the song.

Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça m'fait quelque chose

Il est entré dans mon cœur Une part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause

For a moment, Ikaris truly hated that his French wasn’t as proficient as yours. Had it been, he would have been able to appreciate your singing that rivaled the voice of angels properly. Was it possible for one to sound as rich and effortlessly fluid as sweet syrup?

C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie

Et dès que je l'aperçois Alors je sens dans moi Mon cœur qui bat

Your fingers lightly danced along the keys to give your voice a brief intermission. And for a few moments, it felt like Ikaris’ soul had returned to his body. And although he expected you to stop, you began to sing the English translation.

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me, heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose

Whereas the original French version required a slower and softer pace to grasp the ballad's meaning and beauty, the English version required a slightly quicker tempo. It brought a more joyful mood and tone compared to the lovely but melancholic French version.

When you press me to your heart

I'm in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

When you finished, Ikaris was once more completely and utterly entranced. You turned to face him with hopeful eyes. You long memorized this song since that night in Paris over seventy years ago. When you began to learn how to play the piano, you did it because you never wanted to forget the ballad’s meaning and how it touched your heart from that night on.

“You once asked me why this song was so popular,” you began to explain. “Édith Piaf wrote ‘La Vie en Rose’ in 1945 and released it as a single in 1947. The song’s popularity quickly reached global success as jazz artists began to sing its covers. Louis Armstrong played it on March 2, 1948 – at the same Jazz Festival you took me in Salle Pleyel.”

You stood up as you tenderly traced a single black key that released a soft C sharp when you pressed it.

“As you remember, all of Europe was in chaos and misery after the war. Everyone lost someone fighting. So many men and women who returned became shells of themselves. People were starving and homeless from the constant airstrikes. But Édith wrote this song to remind Paris to never lose sight of the happy times and good things in life. You shouldn’t forget the bad times, but you also shouldn’t forget to look at life without seeing the beauty of everything around you.”

You walked towards Ikaris before standing before him and wrapping your arms around him. You laid your cheek against his chest and smiled at his beating heart's steady and strong rhythm.

“That night- when we danced at the Place Verdôme- the song they played was stuck in my head for months. Whenever I felt sad or disheartened, I would put on the record I bought to listen to it. I know you have your doubts about humanity. You always had them, as had I. We were never the ones who loved humankind, especially after the atrocities they had committed. I hated what they did to the Earth, how much they polluted it, but – Oh, Ikaris. I made you cry again.”

Touching his cheek, Ikaris realized that he was indeed crying. That’s twice in less than twelve hours, a new record. Just what in Arishem’s name had you done to him?

He shook his head. “Never mind my tears. Continue.”

“Listening to that song, I finally realized why so many of our family kept faith in humankind. Kaety and Druig have their twins and remain in their village. Phastos and Ben have Jack. Sersi has loved and lost more than any of us, first with Jane, but now she’s with Dane. Kingo lives among them effortlessly and adores them. Even Makkari remains joyful because she keeps looking at life and seeing its beauty.”

You paused for a moment before standing only tip-toes to press a kiss on his nose.

“Ikaris, you don’t care much for humans. But that night, you reminded me why I did what I did in the war. You reminded me that there will always be people who will take comfort in the most simple pleasures- a rose’s bloom, the crisp bite of an apple, or even the sound of a child’s heartbeat. So, for just a few minutes, I wanted to give something to you the way you have for me.”

Words failed to convey the love Ikaris felt for you. All he could do was tightly hold you in his arms and never let go. For the first time since he came back, he felt it was alright to love you. That he wouldn’t pollute or ruin you the way he had done with everything else in his life so many times. Ikaris knew that it was his destiny to love you. But you- you chose him. You chose to love him. And that fact alone was enough to make him die without regrets.

“I hope children have your voice,” he murmured into your hair before facing you with wet eyes. “And I hope that they have your heart.”

He cupped your cheek, and you kissed his palm softly. “Only if they have your eyes and your art skills.”

Ikaris must have heard you sing your rendition of ‘La Vie en Rose’ a million times. You sang and taught it all your children— Laurie, Aggie, and Ari – on the piano or tucking to bed. But that first time he heard you sing it- that morning when the sun pooled into the room as pink roses and red asters suddenly bloomed- that will always be his favorite.

Thank you if you if finished the story! Let me know if you enjoyed it, and make sure to like, comment, and reblog!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @lexyysworld, @hypnoticmistake, @jolixtreesunn, @tess-love, @she-wintersoldat, @vikingqueen28, @lilacliquors, @beananacake, @tesha-i-guess, @littledoveofchaos, @atjsgf, @littlewitchoftheweast, @fireinmoonshot

Let me know if the comments if you want to be included in future Eternals posts!

#marvel eternals #ikaris smut #richard madden smut #eternals x reader #marvel x reader #ikaris x reader #druig imagine #ikaris imagine #ikaris x female reader #ikaris x eternal!reader #ikaris x oc #eternals fic #richard madden x reader #eternals au #eternals smut #demisexual!reader #demisexual eternal #lgbtqiia+

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queers-gambit · 11 months ago

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https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSYcSyRsv/

frothing at the mouth, pls tell me this isn’t giving TAN

not what i thought it was going to be, but once the words, you know, like, registered - JFC - my heart actually hiccuped. that's actually kinda... hot? is it hot? it's hot.

it's the hot headcannon i didn't know i needed! how dare you be so RIGHT yet so LOUD but also, how dare you send me this while i have PMS - reminding me of how horny i am!?

yet your mind? chef's kiss.

couple thoughts -

okay, so, at first, it's slow and languid; akin to two teenagers first kissing - all timid, shy, insecure. it's because Tan knows he can't just jump your bones, so, he goes at a snail's pace to give you plenty of time to adjust; also providing ample space to change your mind, if you wanted. when he feels you start to retreat into panic, he pulls back and reaches for his gun snug in his shoulder holster, his brows crinkled before presenting the weapon on a flat palm. he'd tell you the "type" of gun, prove it was loaded, then discard the "bullet in the chamber", snap the magazine back into place, and finally, show where the safety was and how to turn it on / of.

when you question him, he's explains that he knows how you can sometimes feel panicked, overwhelmed, scared, fearful, and / or uncomfortable because of your past. he never wanted nor intended to trigger you. it was a sensitive subject, but after dating close to a year, you had decided to fully give yourself to Tangerine in a sign of faith, love, and trust. hence why you were laying on a mattress covered by a goose feather duvet, Tangerine on top, you flat on your back, ready to engage foreplay.

"here," he whispered, "take it, doll, gotta hold it. there's a good girl - yeah, just hold it - good, feel the weight... see that? it's loaded, princess, and loaded guns are about a pound heavier in hand. all right, good. now, look, see, you're gonna hold it like this, this finger - yeah, yep, good, goes here."

"why're you doing this?"

"because you say it's the lack of control that often scares you, yeah?" he waited until you nodded meekly. "so, here, even the odds - anyone tries to overpower you, now you're protected. if holding a gun to my head is what it takes for you to feel safe? for me to get a taste? fucking fine, princess, you hold that fuckin' gun," he all but growled, your body relaxing unconsciously, "right at me fuckin' head, but don't mind me," his fingers curled around the waistband of your cotton shorts and panties, you lifted your hips to aid him in freeing your bottom half. "i'm just gonna take a quick peak, maybe get a li'l sample..."

so, first time, it's missionary. gun's at his chest or ribs. which morphed into you on top, riding him, arm extended to hold the barrel right between his heavy-lidded eyes or under his jaw. you even tangled one hand in his ringlets, gun at his temple while sharing several long, wet kisses.

or maybe it's like, you and Tan are in some kind of argument. it's a fucking whirlwind, a tornado of aggression and frustration and confusion; yelling insults and verbally punching below the belt.

so, what it boils down to is what i think Reddit calls "a dead bedroom". it feels like the romance had expired, like you two were just roommates since you only fucked him like a chore on your to-do list because you're both just busy with work. this is the fight that brings out the ugly; where fears, assumptions, and anxieties are aired out and confronted.

"i can't read your fuckin' mind!" he snarls.

"give me the chance to explain. all right? okay? let me tell you somethings - things you might not know that will help make sense of this situation."

Tan was still coming off his adrenaline high, snarky and a little unreasonable - but he listened as you relaid to him past traumas and what you had been triggered by. he began to feel violently guilty for picking this fight, but in-love or not, Tan's still an asshole.

so, he literally sets his gun down and kicks it across the glistening hardwood floor; trapping the weapon with your foot. "there - is that it? huh? that what you want?" Tan snarls, sounding hateful and distraught, unsure how to prove himself and erase all those putrid memories that still hurt you.

so he did the only thing he knew and gave you his gun. it was a symbolic gesture of his safety and commitment that you accepted. "there! see? is this gonna get you there?" he asked. "if it means i get to have you the way i want - i'm all for you holding that fuckin' gun to me fuckin' head. yeah? all right? just don't fuck with the safety - "

"it's loaded!?"

so, after emptying the clip and chamber, simply resetting the spring and triggers (sure to discharge the one in the chamber), you dove head first into the abyss that is ✨Tangerine✨.

that night, Tan slows down. see, it makes sense that after a fight, you guys might hate fuck, but after this particular fight, Tan's sitting up in bed, his bulging arms around your waist, and you're riding him like you placed a bet at the Kentucky Derby before competing in the fucking race yourself!

yeehaw, ammirite? all my love 🖤

#tangerine #tangerine x f!reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x female!reader #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #bullet train movie #tangerine drabble

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eastwindmlk · 8 months ago

Text

Look! Something happened here and idk. It got away from me. Anyway for @jilytoberfest day 24 we revisit Bigger Fish. Prompt: 🎶Then I know everything is gonna be fine, Because you are mine🎶 -You Shine from Carrie - The Musical

Word count: 3.606... yeah I know.

Waking up in a small boutique hotel on Paris’ Place de la Bastille on the day of your wedding should feel like waking up in a dream. Lily knew that. Still, she sat up in the Egyptian cotton sheets, bleary-eyed and hard-hearted.

Everything should have been dreamy, from the French breakfast waiting for her on her balcony with a view of the courtyard and the muffled uproar from the square rising over the building. To the incredibly fluffy tear-stained pillows she’d cried herself to sleep on and all because of one man.

James Potter, who had ran back into her life at the eleventh hour like they were in some sort of soap opera. Where he returned just in time to confess his love for her and steal her away to the future they were always meant to have.

He almost did. Showing up at the airport, begging her to not do it. The only difference was that she wasn’t the heroine. She wasn’t going to blow all of this off just because he swanned in at a ta-da nick of time to swoop her off her feet. That was not who Lily Evans was.

Lily Evans was sensible and steady, she went through school and dated the footie captain and when he eventually broke her heart, like everyone said he would, she moved on. She found a dependable, unremarkable colleague who brought her coffee and complimented her hair even if he never noticed when she cut it.

He wasn’t a big fish and that is what made him right. Right?

She gripped the edges of her goose feather duvet and peered into the glaring sun, wondering if maybe she was making a mistake. Her eyes lifted to the clock, it was a little before eight and the make-up and hair team would be there in half an hour. Which should be long enough to warm up her cold feet.

Lily took a quick shower, getting dressed in her wedding lingerie and a silk robe before settling herself on the balcony. She was intent on enjoying the view, the sun, the breakfast and staunchly ignored the humdrum of the touristy city below her. Just as she was ignoring the doubt swirling in her chest.

All she had to do was get through today – and the rest of her life – wondering what would have happened had she been brave enough not to board that plane.

She was sipping her morning coffee when the door to her room burst open, the hot drink dripping onto her fingers. It was at this moment that Lily regretted giving the front desk permission to let her mother in.

“Lilykins! Darling! Are you alright?” She asked and without looking Lily could tell that she was frazzled and red-faced. “Are you not bothered by all the ruckus? The receptionist said that ‘ze are protesting ze new work low but ze won’t burn down anyzing ‘ere’,” her mother scoffed and Lily suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at her mother’s abysmal imitation of the French accent.

The bride-to-be turned her torso to offer her mother a sympathetic smile. “You know that sounds awfully mean when you do that right?”

“Do what?”

“The accent,” Lily pointed out, her lips pressing into a thin smile.

Her mother sighed dramatically, her whole torso rising and falling with it. “Don’t be so soft, Lilykins. I am sure they know I don’t mean it that way,” she said, her forehead wrinkling while she gestured vaguely around herself before plopping down on the edge of the bed. Seemingly to catch her breath.

“Oh I don’t know, the French aren’t renowned for their sense of humour,” she pointed out now just trying to get a rise out of her mother. A little thing to distract herself from the restlessness that still brewed in her chest like a storm at sea.

Ruth Evans tutted and shot her daughter a playful glare before letting her expression soften. “It’s a nice room,” she started trying to make small talk. Her mother hated small talk.

“Just spit it out, Mother,” Lily huffed, not wanting to pussyfoot around whatever her mother had to say. She felt like, today of all days, she was entitled to an expedited process. She simply did not have it in her to take her mother’s delicate sensibilities into account today.

Ruth’s lips pursed while she levelled her youngest daughter with a disapproving look that bounced right off of her. “Don’t call me ‘mother’ in that tone,” she sniffed and shifted in her seat before coming right out with it. “I was just… See. I heard that a certain someone might be back in town.”

Lily grimaced and placed her coffee back on the cast iron table, the thought of consuming anything suddenly making her feel ill. “He is, not that it is of any consequence to me,” she dismissed as blasé as she could manage while her heart threatened to burst from her chest and tattle on her.

“Right, of course, it isn’t. I just- It made me wonder how you’re feeling about all of this,” she said while she gestured around her vaguely in an attempt to indicate the whole situation. Or, at least, that is what Lily assumed she meant.

She turned fully in her seat and away from the food and the view to look her mother squarely in the face. That was the plan, but she could only drop her eyes to her hands when she answered her. “It’s beautiful. Every girl dreams of getting married in Paris.” Her voice sounded distant and tight, very much unlike her. Even more so, very much unlike how you’d want any bride to sound on her wedding day.

There was a moment of silence, patient and expecting. There was something extremely unsettling about it. Her mother was never silent, not like this. It made the words she did not want to say rise to her lips nearly instantly. Her secrets fought their way up her throat to see which one was going to fill the emptiness her mother’s silence left.

Lily nearly confessed to what happened at the airport when she was saved by a knock on the door. Her mother stood up in a flurry to open up for the beauty team. Which, hopefully, meant that her mother would let the situation rest for the sake of keeping up appearances.

After all, she would probably die of embarrassment if these total strangers knew there was trouble in paradise.

For a glorious thirty minutes while she was poked with brushes and having her hair pulled and twisted in every which direction, Lily enjoyed her mother’s chatter on how the venue was coming along. Ruth didn’t like small talk unless it would earn her praise.

The end of her peacetime was rung in by Petunia stomping into the room, her blonde hair in her signature, braided twist - which had made an appearance at every formal event after she’d perfected it at age sixteen. - the aubergine maid-of-honour dress still on its garment bag. Lily had no time to ask her if she wanted to use the large en-suite bathroom to change before her sister’s shrill shriek rang through the room. “Seriously, Lily! The airport!”

If her face had not been slathered in foundation a quarter inch thick, she might have flushed. The redhead just wasn’t sure if it was in shame or frustration. “Did something happen at the airport?” her mother chimed in and it was like watching the spark that started the great fire catch.

“You haven’t told her?”

“Tuney,” she cautioned and hoped that a withering look was just as powerful through a reflection.

Not that they had often worked on her sister, who barrelled on with her usual amount of consideration for her younger sibling. Next to none. “The Potter boy showed up at the gate,” she informed their mother, her nose turned up to drive home her superior tone.

Ruth gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth in shock. “Lily Josephine Evan! Why did you not tell me?” The use of her full name made Lily cringe even at age twenty-eight.

‘Because of that reaction’ Lily thought to herself, but she wouldn’t say that now. “I didn’t think it mattered much,” she lied and closed her eyes to let the make-up artist apply another layer of powder and hoped she was done now.

“No? I would think that the other man showing up means quite a lot,” Petunia’s snide remark burned away the remaining cringe and her glare turned deadly.

Her perfectly painted lips disappeared into a thin line when she turned around to look at her sister. It was their mother that interjected. “Petunia!”

“Well, I don’t have some fancy man show up at my gate, begging me to marry him instead,” she said with an indignant sniff and an upturned nose. “’S all I’m saying. “

That is when she started to regret flying with the airline her sister worked for, even if the tickets had been free. The gossip train was clearly very effective and she would not be surprised to see that her sister was a little too well-informed on things.

The news shocked their mother into silence for just long enough that her sister could shoot Lily a look, Superior and satisfied with ruing a perfectly peaceful morning. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her mother’s voice trembled with emotion and she almost worried that she was going to burst into tears. Grateful that she’d already done her make-up and would not want to ruin it with tears.

“Because I knew you’d make a big deal out of it all when it really isn’t,” Lily pointed out, her voice gentler now. Mindful of her mother’s fraying nerves.

“Well, what did you tell him?”

“I am here, am I not?” she answered, her toe pushing up her sock and hoped the answer was enough to soothe her mother.

Ruth sighed in relief, her smile appearing from behind the clouds. Another crisis averted. “That you are and you will be such a beautiful bride,” she cooed, her hands clasped together. “I’ll go get changed. Petunia, help your sister into her dress. It’s almost time,” she said with more enthusiasm than she thought she could muster for her own wedding.

Lily stood, facing the mirror while her sister laced her into the bodice of her white gown and while she felt like she looked like a princess with the Tudor-style bodice and the puffed skirt. She was Cinderella on her way to the ball, all she was missing was her glass slippers.

“What are those?” Petunia’s disgust was evident in her voice when Lily lifted her skirt to slip into her low-heeled slippers.

Her eyes travelled down to look at pastel blue, fluffy socks she’d worn from the moment she stepped out of the shower. “My something blue?” Lily replied, her tone questioning while her sister yanked the warm socks off her feet.

Her sister tutted, not unlike what their mother had done before. “You’re so strange sometimes,” Petunia complained while she fuzzed over Lily’s veil for a moment. “All done. Now smile, this is the happiest day of your life.”

The words echoed in her mind. The happiest day of her life. Lily knew it ought to be, but all she could focus on were the clouds that had rolled in earlier, the restless sea that roiled in her chest. She forced the corners of her lips up into a smile and was grateful that Petunia did not care if it reached her eyes or not.

Lily told herself that she was just nervous, this was a big day for everyone involved. It was only natural to feel a little nauseous. Especially when your mother reappears in the room and just so happens to also be dressed in white.

“Mother,” she started and the words stuck in her throat when Ruth looked up at her. “Mum,” she tried again, tempering her tone. “Why are you wearing white?”

Her mother laughed, her fingers caressing the string of pearls that she wore on every important occasion. “I’m not wearing white, darling. This is crème,” she said defensively, tracing her fingers along the taffeta silk fabric that had a similar sheen to that of her wedding dress.

Despite feeling like she should be offended by her mother’s actions, she couldn’t help but also be grateful for the distraction it offered. The more she could focus on this, the less she would think about her doubts.

More importantly, she won’t think about him.

By the time Lily made her way across the hotel lobby on her way out, the protest had indeed moved on without as much as a rubbish bin lit on fire. It was all that her mother talked about on the way to the venue, more distractions.

Lily’s storm seemed to finally break while she stood waiting in the wings as the stragglers filed in minutes before the start of the ceremony. Her hands were wringing in front of her nervously when Petunia grabbed her shoulders. “Breathe, Lily,” she commanded sternly and took a few deep breaths with her until she was satisfied. “Remember to smile when you see him.”

Her eyebrows brew together at the remark she blinked at her sister before asking. “Who?”

“Your fiancee, Lily. I know you’re nervous but smile for him when you see him, he won’t know the difference from when you feel better after the ceremony,” she explained and pushed a stray lock of hair back into her up-do before lowering the blusher over her face. “Happiest day of your life,” Petunia reminded her once more and handed her the bouquet of flowers. She scowled at the Baby’s Breath she’d explicitly said she hadn’t wanted.

So, this is where her mother chose to be traditional then. It was fine, she supposed.

Lily wrapped her hands around the ribbon-bound stems while she rocked from her heels to her toes a couple of times, hoping that the chapel was warmer than this side room. If only she could have kept her socks on. It wasn’t like anyone would notice.

All thoughts of socks faded to the background when their father opened the door, right on cue. The first notes of Pachelbel’s canon started to float their way. This was it. The start of the rest of her life.

John Evans was the opposite of his flighty and erratic wife. He was solid and calm, a rock that Lily would cling onto all the way down the path of pink petals. Like her sister before him, her father took a deep breath with him and pointed to his cheek. Smile.

Lily clutched her father’s arm and the storm had run its course when she clutched onto his arm. She knew her father would not lead her wrong, he only wanted what was best for her. This was what was best for her. A steady, dependable man and a quiet life.

She’d almost convinced herself of that as she slowly walked down the aisle with a smile on her face. When her eyes were drawn to someone sitting in the fourth row, almost all the way in the back. Dark hair and grey eyes. Sirius Black, one of the only mutual friends of her and James she still felt close enough to to invite to the wedding.

She’d thought that seeing him there would make her happy. Perhaps it would have if he’d looked happy for her, but his face was blank, only the hint of a smile and a nod sent her way when they locked eyes.

This was not approval, this was surrender. The smile on her face turned apologetic before she rend her eyes away from him and back to the front, the future waiting for her.

A future that was already suffocating her. The idea of a white picket fence and charity bake sales weighed down on her chest like a tonne of bricks. Lily dug her fingers into her father’s arm and hoped he would notice her panic, he would get her out of this.

Before John could look at her, they were at the end of the aisle. Her hand was placed in a limp, sweaty palm. All she wanted to do was pull her hand back and run, but instead, she froze in the realisation that the moment of quiet, of acceptance, had only been the eye of the storm.

Her body moved when it was prompted to by her groom. They stood, face-to-face when the priest started the traditional opening words. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to…” The rest of the words were drowned out by the blood rushing through her ears, and the pounding in her throat.

Lily knew that the priest would be reading a passage from 1 John 4 that they’d agreed on and she couldn’t help but see the passage in a different light now. While she knew it spoke of God’s sacrifice, she related to that more now than ever that he was promising her life to a man she was not certain of.

The whole church was silent, leaving her to drown in her waves of panic when she heard the rattling of the door. Something tugged inside of her and it took her concentrating on the words being said to not turn around. To not be hopeful.

Lily’d had her chance yesterday at the airport. It would be too much to ask for another one. Everyone knew that the words that would follow were just for tradition’s sake, no one ever actually spoke up. She kept her eyes on their hands while she grimaced her way through the silence that would undoubtedly follow the priest’s words.“Before we proceed with the vows, should anyone here present know of any reason why these two should not be married? If so, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

One heartbeat and there was a quiet cough, a shuffle and Lily’s breath caught in her chest. Would her rescue come from an unexpected place? A murmur started to rise through the guests and the door rattled again. But no one spoke up.

The priest drew in a deep breath to continue the ceremony when two things happened at the same time. Someone cleared their throat from her side of the church and the door crashed open, the rush of relief nearly bringing her to her knees when she heard an echo from the day before.

“Stop!” James’ voice echoed through the decorated columns of the church sounding breathless and desperate as he had at the gate.

Lily only took a moment to take in the shock on the priest’s face before turning to face him, just like everyone else. Everyone but Sirius and James were still in their seats, craning to see the man slowly making his way down the aisle towards them.

“I will not hold my peace,” James said, loud and clear this time and before Lily knew it her hands were in his. “Lily, please,” he pleaded literally dropping to his knees in front of her.

The whole church was collectively holding their breaths and Lily could feel the tension mounting. She knew she should turn him away, it would be the right thing to do. “James,” she choked out while she looked down at him but the words wouldn’t come.

“I know that this is a little too late, but I cannot let you go without making damn sure that you know how much I love you,” he spoke so evenly, so sure of himself. Like he had rehearsed the words over and over again. “I have been an idiot for ever letting you go. I should have asked you to marry me before uni but we were young and I thought I would have you forever because I could not imagine sharing my life with anyone but you.”

Lily rolled her eyes at him and received an apologetic smile in return. When she pulled her hands back from his, he didn’t resist. He did not drop his hands either, waiting expectantly while she pushed the veil back to uncover her face and placed her hands back in his.

“I love you, Lily Evans. I always have and I always will.” James paused to cast a quick glance at the groom beside her, still processing the shock. “If you truly, in the depths of your heart have no love left for me then I will step back. Resign myself to having the one constant person in my life being Benjy bloody Fenwick.”

She giggled, actually, giggled at that. Lily knew it was inappropriate but she couldn’t hold it back. He’d always had that effect on her. His smile was dazzling and yet anchored her in this bonkers moment. This impossible, larger-than-life moment.

It was just so… James. Her James. Who, even after all these years, she loved so much that she could burst. Even standing here, dressed in white to promise herself to another man, she couldn’t help but love him, to admit that she’d hoped he’d swoop in and save her from making the biggest mistake of her life.

“This is not the time or place, I am very well aware of that. Still, I need to ask one last time. Marry me instead?”

Lily felt her lips move before her mind even had time to properly process the words, tears spilling down her cheeks. The guests reacted before she realized herself that she, in a well of emotion, said yes.

#jily #james potter #lily evans #jple #jily fic #jily fanfiction #jilytober2024

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