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thornbutch · 7 months

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One Night Only (Pt. 1) (18+)

check out my masterlist! ♡

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Pairings: Jordan Li x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jordan Li loves to absolutely destroy fuck pretty girls.

Tags: smut, corruption kink, toxic Jordan Li, submissive reader, fem!reader, jordan isn't used to catching feelings during sex, dysphoria maybe? Jordan is scared reader won't like them in their other form

Word Count: 2.7k

The party went on around them, but they were deaf to all of the noises. Jordan’s lips were on hers in a moment of heated passion. Both of them didn’t care who was looking, watching, or recording. Jordan’s mind raced with thoughts of what they wanted to do to her. They wanted to mark her up, show everyone they claimed her; she was theirs. They knew they couldn’t do that, though. This would be nothing more than a hook-up. She probably wouldn’t even be into Jordan’s feminine form. They could tell she liked the way their hands griped at her waist and kept her glued to their front. She could feel how much they craved her this way, their boner rutting against her lower abdomen. She was needy, and they wanted to give her everything she needed.

This couldn’t go on for much longer unless they’d be presenting a free show for all the partygoers. Jordan didn’t like the thought of that; of people watching them, people watching her. She was undoubtedly attractive. Her lips were soft and plump, so tender to kiss. She may not have appeared frail, but Jordan could tell she was sensitive. God, how they dreaded having to leave her before she would awaken. She was so delicate, they wanted to break her in every way possible.

“Let’s take this somewhere else, yeah?” They muttered against her lips. She nodded, all dumb-like. She was entranced by them, and they loved every bit of it. They pulled her into one of the many rooms of the fraternity house. They knew which one would be the cleanest, having been to this frat (and that room) numerous times.

They let her go in first, presenting as the gentlemen they knew she thought of them as. Really, it was to stare at her ass. They couldn’t wait to see it bare.

The second the door was shut, she was turned and pressed against it with a gentle thud. She was pinned under their grasp, unable to move (even though she didn’t want to). In their male form, they were far stronger than she was. Hell, even in their female form they’d still be stronger. They liked that. The whole power dynamic turned them on, and they could tell it turned her on too by the way she rocked against them.

“Can I take this off?” They asked, tugging at the hem of her shirt. She nodded shyly, cheeks blushing with a dusty rose and her eyes darting off to avoid Jordan’s gaze. Jordan smirked, pulling the shirt over her head and tossing it God knows where. Her breasts filled out her bra, even spilling over the top a bit. Not in a slutty way, though Jordan isn’t opposed to slutty women. It was like she couldn’t help being so seductive, so sexy, so ugh. They hadn’t realized how long they’d been ogling at her breasts until she shifted. It wasn’t an uncomfortable shift, more like I’m topless, you’re not, fix it. She said it with her body because her mouth was too timid to word it.

Jordan took off their top, pressing themselves into her. Their lips met once again. Jordan kissed her more roughly this time like they were starving. Like she was their prey. They could hear how much she loved this. Her quiet whimpers didn’t fall on deaf ears.

Soon, they made it to the bed. She was underneath them and they were on top. They kissed down her torso, making sure to spend enough time to appreciate her breasts, before moving down to underneath her navel. She wore a short little skirt. It was what drew Jordan to her in the first place. The underpart of her ass had peaked from underneath the hem of the skirt. Jordan wanted to bite into it.

She looked down at them, spreading her legs like the good girl she was. “Can I?” They asked, spreading her thighs ever so softly. She nodded once more. They raised her skirt and sighed in arousal. They could smell her. She smelled so sweet, so bitter. So tasty. Jordan thought that was corny, but fuck. She was beautiful and so was her pussy, even when hidden by lace panties. They trailed their finger down her covered slit, watching as she jumped and twitched. Her thighs were already shaking. Jordan wondered how many people had made her thighs shake before. Was it them? Was she faking? Was she always so sensitive? Who saw her like this? Jordan felt angry, but couldn’t explain why. They pushed these thoughts away again, focusing on the full-course meal in front of them.

They pulled her panties to the side, all while maintaining eye contact. She knew not to look away. She was so obedient, even when not told what to do. Their head dipped down to press a kiss to her pussy. She whimpered loudly. So sensitive. They held the panties there as they took an agonizing stripe up her cunt. Her breathing hitched. So good. She tasted like how they imagined: bittersweet. Jordan loved the way natural pussy smelled, none of that artificial shit that brands made women believe was healthy for them. They loved the way natural pussy looked, too. She had a small, pretty bush. To others, it would seem masculine. Women shouldn’t be hairy. But Jordan, having a feminine body, knew that there was nothing wrong with being hairy. Her bush was soft and trimmed, like a cloud or the cotton within a pillowcase. With the other hand, they spread her lips. She was sticky and wet, gushing and pink. They blew on it, watching her opening tense up.

They wanted to be inside her so bad.

They’d have to wait, though. They wanted to make her feel good, make her comfortable. They wanted to please her. Normally, they’d let their hookups give them head first. Don’t get them wrong, they loved giving as much as receiving. But something about them on their knees made them feel superior. With her, they didn’t need her on her knees to know that she was submitting to them. She’d give them head later, no doubt. Jordan would be lying if they said they didn’t want to see her plush lips wrapped around their throbbing cock.

They wondered what she’d look like on her knees with her face buried in their cunt. They’d hold her in place, watching her lick so dumbly. Her eyes would be closed and theirs would be glued to her face, watching her expression and how slick her chin was getting from their wetness. She’d want to touch herself. She seemed so eager to be pleased, but also to please as well.

Jordan was mindlessly eating her out as they thought about different ways to fuck her in their feminine form. It felt wrong. They didn’t even know if she liked women. Yet, something felt different about her. Something open. Something accepting. She’d settle for sitting on either of their faces, riding the hard jawline or straddling the soft one. They love how they could be both smaller and bigger than her, both shorter and taller. She’d submit gracefully either way.

“Jordan,” they heard her mumble, “Jordan, please.”

They stopped their altercations, immediately worried they had done something wrong. “Is everything alright?” They asked, sitting up and moving up her body.

“I wanna,” she breathed in, “I wanna see you.”

Jordan’s face had been hidden by the skirt when they were diving into her. It was weird how Jordan wanted her to see them, too. They were just too busy thinking. “Okay,” they said, “I’ll take this off, too.”

They pulled down her skirt, followed by her panties. She felt so exposed, but safe. She didn’t feel embarrassed. She could see the way they craved her. They moved down her body once more, leaving behind all gentleness. Their tongue fucked into her roughly, leaving her screaming. One glance is all it took for her to quiet down, though. She covered her mouth with her hand, eyes teary as she looked down at them devouring her.

“I don’t want anyone to hear,” they murmured, pulling back from her leaking pussy. She looked into their eyes. It wasn’t because they didn’t like the sounds she made, or that they were embarrassed about fucking her. It was because they didn’t want anyone else to listen to the sinful sounds she was making. That was for them. The jealous glint in their eyes told her all she needed to know.

They pressed a finger against her hole, tongue on her clit as they pushed it in. It didn’t take long for them to press two, three fingers in due to her arousal. They opened her up, preparing her to take their cock. It also didn’t take long for her to cum, drenching their face in her wetness. Her hands found their way to Jordan’s hair, pulling them into her pussy. She rode their face, thighs practically vibrating. She squeezed their head between them, moaning religiously. When she came down from her high, she let them go. They took in a deep breath. Jordan liked to do the choking and suffocating, but fuck, that was hot.

They removed their fingers from her, bringing their fingers to their mouth to taste her again. That was new. Their fingers found themselves in her mouth next. She sucked feverishly.

“Such a good girl,” they whispered under their breath.

She pulled off with a pop, smiling shyly at them. How did she have the audacity to do something so dirty and then look so pure when she was done? Their lips were glued to each other’s again. She could taste herself on their lips. Jordan detached themselves from her to pull their pants off. They crawled back beside her, kissing her neck without leaving the hickeys they so desperately wanted to leave.

She rolled over on top of them, pinning their hands above their head. She was weaker. It would’ve been easy to release themselves from her grasp, but they didn’t want to. They wanted to give her the false sense of hope that she was in charge. She leaned down to peck their lips, sitting back up with a teasing grin on her face.

She reached behind herself to remove the bra that trapped her breasts. The moment the clasps were released, her breasts fell elegantly. She threw the bra on the floor. Who was this? Did an orgasm switch her into an alter ego or something? Jordan loved it, still. They loved the way her breasts sat on her chest. They weren’t the perkiest, but they were beautiful, nonetheless. She had the prettiest stretch marks on them, like a tiger. She sat her pussy on their closed cock. She made their boxers moist from how wet she was.

She moaned at the feeling of their hardness against her. She was acting so naughty. Perhaps all of Jordan’s actions had corrupted her, just the way they liked. When they had enough of her teasing, raising their hips to press harder against her pretty cunt. They needed to be inside of her, feel the same squeeze they felt around their fingers on their cock.

Both decided they could no longer wait. She fell to the side, letting Jordan maneuver themselves on top of her. They reached over to grab a condom off of the nightstand. They held it in their mouth, then stood up to pull their boxers off. Their cock stood proudly. They watched her practically drool over it.

“I think you’re the biggest I’ve seen,” she said. Jordan beamed with the praise but furrowed their brows realizing that she had seen other cocks. Other men. Other people. They were going to fuck her until she forgot all her past fucks and could only remember theirs. They were going to brand their name in her mind.

They ripped the condom open, about to put it on before she interrupted them. She pleaded with her eyes to put it on them. They handed the condom to her, smiling at her eagerness.

She pushed the condom down around their cock, causing a loud groan to erupt from their chest. Once that was over, they adjusted her body to enter the place they desperately desired. They pushed in slowly, grunting at the tightness of her pussy around them. She let out a loud moan. Jordan let her moan this time. They wanted her to yell it now. Scream it. Let everyone know who is fucking her so good.

They thrust in and out of her slowly for a few minutes before fucking into her. Their ministrations were coordinated at first. Deep and hard, hitting the spot that made her face scrunch up in pleasure and her eyes close from the delicious feeling. She felt so good. She was so tight. She was so good. So, so good.

“You’re so good,” they praised, “You’re taking it so well.” This caused her to moan loudly. They wanted to hear that again, and again, and again.

She held her breasts in her hands, keeping them from bouncing around. She played with them as she looked into their eyes. Their breath stuttered, as well as their hips.

She was going to be the death of them.

They felt the familiar in their gut and the familiar squeeze around their cock. A few more thrusts and they were cumming into the condom, while she simultaneously creamed on their cock. Jordan lost all organization of their movements, using her sensitive body to milk their cock. She let them. Obedient, good.

They were finally done. It was extremely disappointing to Jordan. They wished it could go on forever. They wished the two of them could be together. But she didn’t want them. She’d see them in their feminine form and be disgusted.

They removed themselves from her spent pussy, tying up the condom and waddling to the bathroom to dispose of it in the bathroom trash. They hoped she hadn’t seen their ass.

Luckily, but also to their dismay, she was asleep when they walked back in. They smirked. They fucked her into exhaustion. They gathered their clothes first, putting them back on. They then put her clothes back on, all except her panties. They were cold from her slick, and Jordan knew how uncomfortable it was to put back on drenched panties. They laid the panties on the nightstand. Normally, they’d lock the door and leave.

That didn’t feel right this time. What if someone heard? What if someone entered while she was sleeping? She would be too tired to fight them off. Jordan had to protect her.

They still locked the door but laid down beside her. She breathed little breaths, snoring a little. It was adorable. Jordan smiled. They pushed her hair out of her face. They maneuvered their bodies to pull the covers over them. They’d just stay until morning, when the party was over, and everyone was gone.

“Goodnight, (Y/n),” they whispered, so as to not wake her. They swore they saw the corner of her lips twitch in a smirk.

#jordan li #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li smut #gen v #supernatural #smut #18+ content #slight dysphoria?#gen v fanfiction #toxic jordan li #corruption kink #Spotify

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suugarbabe · 9 months

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Softer Side (pt.3)

[Final part 😘]

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warning: fighting, mentions of blood, fluff

sorry this did not end in smut, but this whole series has been about Mattheo's soft side so I felt it was only right it ended fluffy 😌

Your senses were enveloped with what you’ve become familiar with as Mattheo’s scent. The smell of lemons and patchouli with the ever familiar hint of tobacco was slowly becoming your favorite. His strong arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind as he placed a gentle kiss to your temple. You smiled at the tender gesture as he sat down at the table next to you. “Coming to study with me, Teo? Are you feeling ill?” You placed the back of your hand on his forehead in a teasing manner.

He knocked your hand back playfully, “You should know me better than that, y/n/n. Studying on a Friday?” You snorted, “Studying at all…” Mattheo rolled his eyes, “Do you wanna know why I’m really here, Princess?” You nodded, leaning your head on your hand. “There’s going to be a party tonight, in the Slytherin common room.” When your face was unchanging Mattheo raised his eyebrows at you, “You’re coming, right?” You sighed, leaning back in your chair, “Dunno, might just keep studying.”

He groaned like a child being told no sweets before dinner, “C’mon…please come. You never come to parties.”

“How do you know I don’t go to parties?”

“You’re not the only one who’s people watched this year,” his wink caused an immediate flush to your cheeks. “You can get ready with Pansy, then you can sit by us the whole time. It’ll be fun, we’ll drink, play games. Theo will ask you to smoke and you can deny him, it’ll be the best of times.” You gnawed on the inside of your cheek, contemplating your decision. The longer your thought the closer Mattheo was bringing his face. Closer and closer and closer until his nose was pressed against your cheek. He knew your answer before you could even say ‘yes’, knowing the grin on your face meant he won and you would be going. He stood triumphantly, letting out a slightly too loud cheer and being shushed by Madam Pince. He kissed your cheek, letting you know he’d see you at the party as he and the other boys ‘needed to finish some planning’.

You did your best to continue to study, even for a few hours. But your nerves about the party were too loud. You decided to find Pansy, seeing if she’d spend a little extra time helping you get ready as this was your first party in a long time. She was more than excited, practically destroying her dorm room with flying dresses, tops, and skirts. She finally landed on you wearing an emerald green pleated skirt, a little shorter than you normally wear; falling just above mid-thigh. Your top was a black crop top with two delicate strings criss-crossing around your abdomen and tying in the back. She had you accessorize with a dark green velvet choker and a gorgeous silver snake ring. Pansy argued that you should wear heels but thankfully she let you opt for shiny black doc martens.

You looked yourself over again, doubt clouding your brain. Pansy encouraged you, telling you how good you looked and how much Mattheo would be drooling over you. You pushed your doubts aside, entering the party with Pansy hand in hand as she led you to the rest of the group. Mattheo greeted you with a kiss, whispering in your ear about how breathtaking he thought you looked in the Slytherin house colors. He brought you down to the couch with him, draping your legs over his lap. You all talk and joke together, playing some games and drinking. You needed a refill, so Pansy agreed to go with you, both of you agreeing to grab some drinks for some others. You were surprised how well the night was going. Until it wasn’t.

“Can you believe who Mattheo’s been spending time with all night?” You stilled at the drink table, listening now to the conversation of the girls behind you. “Oh god, yes. Little mouse of a girl, that Ravenclaw. I mean, what does he think he’s going to accomplish?” You were seething now, Pansy noticing your change in demeanor. You made eye contact with her, her eyebrows raising as if to ask you what’s wrong. You opened your mouth to answer, but then you heard the girls voices again, mocking you and Mattheo, talking poorly about him and his intentions. You couldn’t take it.

You turned around, grabbing the main girl's shoulder. “What the bloody hell is your problem? Have you ever even had one conversation with Mattheo or do you just pine for him from afar like a loser?” You'd forgotten about the drinks, hands at your side clenching and unclenching. Pansy was behind you, arms crossed and smirking. The girl scoffed, “Do I have to? Everyone knows how he is.”

“You have no idea how he is. You don’t know the first real thing about him,” you were doing your best to stay calm, but you could feel your anger rising. One more thing, just one more ignorant thing out of her mouth and you weren’t going to be able to control yourself. The smirk that formed on the girl’s face told you that she thought her next words were going to make her seem like she knew it all, “You think because he gave you a few hickey’s that it’s your job to defend him now? Do you even know the number of girls he’s done that to? You are not special to him. He’s a prick, always been a prick, always will be a prick. Honestly we’re doing you a favor leveling out your expectations right now.”

And there it was, your boiling point. You turned your head slightly, speaking to Pansy now, “Do me a favor, Pans?” She nodded her head, confused by the smile forming on your face, “Go get Mattheo, maybe Theo too while you’re at it.” The girl across from you gave you a mocking pout, “What’s wrong? Need big bad Mattheo and friends to come defend you, feeling bad now?” You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to contain your laughter. The girl clearly confused by your response. You took a deep breath, opening your eyes and making direct eye contact with her, “God no. Pansy’s gonna go get them for your sake. Because they’re going to be the only one’s strong enough to stop me from beating the shit out of you.”

The girl opened her mouth to respond, but your fist was already connecting with her nose. She doubled over in pain, and you used this as an opportunity to throw her down to the ground. You pushed her back to the ground, kneeling over her chest as you took swings at her. You had to give her some props, she really did try to fight back for a moment, pulling at the strings of your top and trying to grab at your hair. You laughed slightly at her efforts, which probably made you look slightly more crazy than you already did to the crowd that was forming around the both of you. You got one more good swing in before you were being lifted into the air, the same familiar scent of lemon and patchouli filling your senses like this afternoon.

The girl was lucky Mattheo was so strong, because you were thrashing against his grasp but he still held you like you weighed nothing. Your adrenaline and anger still high as ever, not wanting to be done with the fight, “Mattheo you let me down right now, she deserves it.” You felt him chuckle against your back, “No way, princess. Parties over for you. You keep thrashing around and you’ll make me have to use a binding spell on you.” You slumped immediately, making him laugh again. He carried you to his dorm, finally setting you down once you exited the hall. He led you to the bathroom, where he lifted you back up to have you sit on the large countertop, hands settling on either side of your thighs, “Now, you wanna tell me why I just witnessed my innocent little Ravenclaw in a fight that easily rivaled one I would get myself into?”

You averted your gaze, looking down at your hands in your lap. Your bruised and bloodied hands. You wanted to feel awful, but her words played in your head again, “She was being a cunt.” You mumbled your response, causing Mattheo to tilt your chin up, forcing your eyes on his, “Come again, darling?” You sighed deeply, speaking more clearly this time, “She was being a cunt.” Mattheo was laughing again. You were glad he found this whole situation so amusing. “While I don’t doubt that, do you mind telling me exactly what happened to earn her the title?” He took one of your hands in his, grabbing his wand with the other. He started waving his want over your injured knuckles as you explained to him what happened. How you overheard them talking about you, and what they thought his intentions were. How you told them to shove off, then they told you that you were just another girl to him. Which, you clarified, was fine if it were true, but that he did not deserve to be talked about that way just because they were jealous of you being the current girl gaining his attention.

Mattheo finished mending your hands, then did a quick once over of your face and neck to make sure you didn’t have any other injuries before he responded. “You know, usually I’m the one getting mended, kind of a nice change to be the one taking care of somebody.” You blushed as he continued, “You're not just some girl to me, y/n. Not just another name on some list I have in my nightstand. You're different. Special to me." You looked at him with wide eyes, not quite expecting those words to be told to you. He cupped your face, thumb rubbing your cheek gently before placing a kiss to the other side.

"You seem to have this habit of defending me, y/n. Why do you get so mad when someone talks bad about me, love? You know most of what they say is probably true.” You shook your head, “It’s not true. Not the Mattheo I know. Not my Mattheo.” He hummed at your words, “Mm, your Mattheo. I like the sound of that.” You giggled slightly, pushing his shoulder, “You know what I mean. Just- I see a different side of you.” He nodded, dimples on full display as he came to stand between your legs, “Yeah, you do. But there’s another side that I’ve just been dying to show you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking up at him through your lashes, “Is that so? And what side would that be, sir?” That last word alone caused his irises to flash just a shade darker, pupils slowly growing, “Careful with your words, princess.” His hands gripping the underside of your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist. You were feeling confident now, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “I’m always very careful…sir.” He lifted you up then, carrying you from the bathroom to his bed, making promises to show you a different side of him that he said was also just for you.

#annnnnd it's done #not super happy about the ending but still generally happy nonetheless #mattheo riddle #softer side #softer side series #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #golden era #harry potter

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myeagleexpert · 3 days

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𝕮𝖆𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙?

Yuu has reached her limits, tired and without the strength to fight anymore, it is up to Leona to care for and restore her body and mind with devotion. Notes: Leona in this fic may be a little ooc, but I firmly believe that when he enters into a serious relationship with someone he will become more vulnerable and soft, taking care of the smallest details so that the person feels protected. He's very soft and sweet here, which we all need, right? (Fem!Yuu) You are not a machine, you do not run on steam and electricity. You are a human and you deserve to have your rest days. May this fic be a break for you and so that like Yuu you can have your rest.

This was one of those weeks.

Terrible. Exhausting. Desperate. With sleepless nights and days without eating properly.

And after finishing everything in the early hours of Friday to Saturday and handing over his work to Dire Crowley, because taking care of Grim and doing tasks in a magical world where you parachuted in is tiring enough, imagine the injustice when you still have to do the work of a therapist and do all the paperwork that Crowley forgot to do and threw everything into the shaking hands of the young woman without magic is even more tiring and an overload.

Yuu said goodbye to Grim who went yawning to Ramcharkle and called a sleeping lion to come get you, which was quick, considering he was just waiting for the sign of his love to pick her up on the flying broom and take her in bridal style .

Her friends started to worry because the symptoms were getting worse and worse, frequent headaches, irritation with the squad, confusing people's names and potion ingredients, refusing to stop to rest, because she always responded that she wasn't tired. But everyone saw and turned a blind eye when she fell asleep in the middle of classes, when she shook so much that she couldn't drink water properly, when her nails were always bleeding and her hair became brittle. Everyone was worried and didn't know what to do.

She was becoming increasingly sick and weak, a workaholic, and was unable to share the heavy burdens with anyone. She held the world on her shoulders, dividing herself into 100 so that the work could be done with excellence. Terrible idea, but necessary. She had water up her neck and was running out of air and options.

Jack, as a loyal friend, had the courage to tell Leona everything that was happening to Yuu, and that he, as her boyfriend, should do something. It was then that Leona swore that she would take care of her now, because if the discrepancies didn't lead anywhere, he would have to take drastic actions, like wrapping up an act in a burrito.

"Are you okay?"-Leona looked worried at her strangely cold and quiet form.

"Hunhun.." a yawn interrupted the little princess-"just tired…but fine" with a voice as loud as the whisper of a little mouse.

It didn't take long for them to get to Leona's room, and it took even less time for Yuu to trip on the carpet and hit the arm of the dresser next to the bed. Since when was that damn thing there? And then she threw herself on his spacious bed, still wearing her uniform and sneakers, and with makeup slightly smeared from the day's course on her face.

"Tsk… this herbivore."

The powerful and feared lion gently took off the girl's sneakers and placed her in a comfortable position, being careful not to wake her. And with the greatest care that hands made to destroy, he takes a cloth of warm water and delicately cleans Yuu's face of makeup, removing the excess mascara from her eyes, and the concealer that tried to hide the deep dark circles that were demonstrating the Yuu's exhaustion. Leona almost feels responsible for her tiredness, for her sadness, for not being able to help her enough, for not having been by her side when she deals with giants bigger than herself, for not having talked more about her carrying the world on her shoulders. That she is not alone.

And do you want to know the worst? That it wasn't the first time this was happening and it was getting more intense than before.

Leona was never one to believe in gods or be religious, but that night he prayed at the foot of the bed to whatever powerful being was in the heights, that he would always be by her side, that he would be strong enough to hold her. without trembling, so that one day she can be free and happy.

And when he went to lie down next to Yuu, he held her tight in her sleep, because at least in his arms she wouldn't have to deal with the threats of the world.

It was noon on Saturday morning when Yuu woke up from her more than deserved sleep, but she didn't have the strength to move enough and chose to sleep like a log for another 10 min…20…30… .. until her body decided it could become conscious.

By rubbing her eyes she tried to get used to the light in the place, or rather, the lack of light. Disoriented, she noticed that she wasn't in her precious Ramcharcle room, if she had been Grim would have woken her up for breakfast, meowing loudly until she had her tuna toast. She was then in….

"Good morning, princess." - said the gentle voice of the lion, he crossed the room and opened the curtains letting the sun shine. "How did sleeping beauty sleep?" he took the chance to get into bed with her

"Morning…" Yuu gave a heavy sigh and replied in a slightly worn voice, almost moaning from how refreshing the sleep was "Well…I slept well, my love. Did I give you trouble?"

"It's going to be trouble now" with a smile, Leona stood up and took her hand like a gentleman guiding her to the bathroom.

"Hey…I shower alone."

"This time you're going alone, but next time we'll be together" - he said with a damn smirk - "I have a gift for you"

At the entrance to the bathroom there was a beautiful gift basket. A basket with luxury skincare, recommended by the queen of Sunset Savanah herself and by a brand designed only for celebrities.

"Actually, I was going to give you this gift on our date next week. But my plans were advanced and today seems like a great opportunity." he smiled fondly and gave Yuu a kiss on the forehead before leaving to prepare something for her to eat.

The shower water was like a cold current that took away the thick layer of frustrations, fears, desires, and slowly brought the lightness of Yuu's heart, she smiled involuntarily when she saw that the basket's theme was for sleeping and relaxing, having exquisite notes of lavender and chamomile. He must be really worried. The body scrub renewed her skin, giving her a feeling of deep cleansing and freshness, and when she applied the shampoo and conditioner to her hair, she realized that it had been a long time since she had time to take care of herself with such patience. No spa day for days. No money for a new perfume. No time to take care of your body and mind. Even her nails, which were previously so vain and painted in different colors and interesting details, were bitten, she took out all her anxiety and stress on her nails, because what else could she do?

After a while in the bathroom, she came out and found a pair of clean, folded oversized pajamas on the bed. And she knew it was there for her, because Ruggie had perfected the lavender scent of the fabric softener, because Leona hates strong smells in his clothes.

"How do you feel? Do you want to sleep more?" Leona appeared at the bedroom door suddenly and approached Yuu.

"You arrived just in time, love. I'm just out of the shower" - Yuu wrapped her arms around the prince's waist, pulling him into a hug that was soon returned.

"We'll be eating in a bit. Ruggie is making your favorites and will bring them when ready."

"Great, now I'm going to comb my hair-"

"Nah nah nah bun, let me do it. Sit here." He said sitting on the bed, waiting for Yuu to sit in front of him. And she goes, used to his grooming.

You might think he wouldn't know how to take care of a person, and something as simple and intimate as combing someone else's hair could turn into a disastrous situation. But when it comes to Yuu, his partner, his mate, his equal, he makes a point of applying a cream first and massaging his princess's scalp, combing it with a comb designed for her hair, untangling the strands with tenderness and love. , mentally cursing the knots that dared to remain in Yuu's delicate mane.

How many times had Yuu done this for him in the dark and distressing days he had already gone through? And all he wants is to repay the love he received on a silver platter a thousand times over. Leos are very possessive of their mates, you know? An intense and protective love.

"Did you like the present?" he said, sniffing deeply Yuu's neck, inhaling the calming notes -" Farena's wife who recommendend this to me"

"Wow, what an honor that the queen personally chose my gift." she said laughing "But I did like it, just what I need at the moment."

"hey, I helped too. Don't give her all the credit."

"Oh yeah? And how did you help?"

"Saying whether it was approved or not, of course."

Yuu would comment further on this when he saw the strange pattern Leona was making in her hair.

"Hey baby, what are you doing?"

"I'm finishing your hair, it's like this, right? I researched your hair type online and saw that it's supposed to be styled like this."- If Vil saw this he would be horrified by Leona's messy hairstyle, but Yuu didn't care. This was because she was immensely grateful that her partner was taking care of her so well.

"Ow kitten, thank you." her heart was static, like a wound being healed little by little and it didn't hurt that much. "come here."

Yuu turned around and hugged the big cat, placing kisses on his cheek and mouth. "You're the best, love."

"Everything for you, darling." caressing her cheek and looking deep into the girl's eyes, he continued- "Just for you."

The moment was as delicate as a flower, vulnerable, two people healing each other through gestures and words, enjoying the calm and peaceful moment they hadn't had in days. And if the moment could last longer, it would, but a certain hyena had to enter just in time.

"Leona-sammm~ Yuu's lunch is here. Yuu, are you awake?"

Ruggie found Yuu sitting on the bed, smiling at him.

And Leona staring at him with a hateful face that said: "Don't you know how to hit, hyena?" with its tail wagging in annoyance, like a cat.

"How are you Yuu? This time you scared us so much shi shi shi~" he laughed in relief seeing that his friend, despite being tired, was recovering and left the snack on a small table next to the bed

"I'm getting better little by little… but I'm very hungry!" she said, getting up towards the table and enjoying the smell of the delicious food.

There were two sandwiches with shredded chicken, cheese and ham, lightly toasted, with a protein cream to accompany and two glasses of citrus juice.

Leona knew everything about Yuu and when he saw the eyes lit up by a simple food he knew that the plan had worked: Right at the beginning of their relationship, in a conversation about their childhood Yuu had confessed that her mother always made this sandwich when she was sick and tired to regain her energy, and always, always with a citrus juice to go with it.

He never forgot.

And he wants Yuu to know that even in her smallest details, he hasn't forgotten.

"Eat to your heart's content, we're going to need you tomorrow!" Leona immediately glared at Ruggie the moment he profaned those words.

"Uat weonna do?" with a voice full of food she asked

"Well, tomorrow will be-"

"There won't be anything Ruggie, let her rest. It's Sunday, she'll spend the day here." Leona roared quickly and to the point, wrapping an arm protectively around Yuu's waist.

"Ok ok relax, I'm joking bro shi shi shi~" covering his hand over his mouth he laughed softly, impressed as in any situation involving Yuu, Leona will show her claws to protect Yuu, that's a material for profocation later.

They spent the afternoon relaxing, he was sprawled out on Yuu's lap, while she responded to friends, comments, posts on her cell phone, laughing at her boyfriend's sarcastic comments, watching movies while eating popcorn, and when it was time to go to sleep, they were both cuddled up together, underneath with soft covers, in each other's arms whispering words of love.

"Thank you for today kitty, I felt like a spoiled little princess" she thanked the equally spoiled prince, who was currently having his ears stroked while listening to Yuu's heart, buried in her chest.

"Well, you better get used to it, from now on the treatment is real. And another thing, it doesn't scare me like that. If I see you working yourself to the bone, I'll ruin that crow's race myself."

The two laughed and when a comfortable silence reigned, he could only hear Yuu's breathing slowing down, calming down, and watching how her eyelids slowly became heavier, the good side of night vision.

"Hey Leona….." "Hmm?"

"…I love you" she approached and whispered incoherently with the sleep already taking over her body, on the lips of the lion prince who smiled and returned the kiss

"I love you too, my love." and with that his tail wrapped around Yuu's leg, pulling her closer. The stars are witnesses to this delicate romance, and between the purring of a lion and the slow massages of the princess's hair, the two got the rest they deserved.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥

@nickson-lol I think you'll enjoy this <3

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alastorsfuckassbob · 4 months

Text

You're Never Fully Dressed-

Alastorxfem!reader

oh boy everyone's favorite! Please I have never written before, I just figured I'd give it a shot it was 1:35 and I was not feeling sleepy so an hour later here it is, its not edited so SORRY ABOUT THAT- all of my friends are normal and would definitely not proof read this hot garbo!

Basic Plot!! Yikes another song fic i know i KNOWW, the reader knew our good pal Al in her life but oopsies he "left" her (he died duh) and now shes taking a sad hot girl bubble bath to reminisce!!

Lyrics are bolded, past events Italics for the most part.

ALSO Please DNI if you're a minor k thanks bye!! You are responsible for your own internet consumption, so here are the warnings! If you don't want to view that ✨dont✨

Warnings include:

-Swearing

-Violence

-Alcohol Use but not abuse! (its hell duh)

-Abusive Relationships

-Slight Innuendo but not a strong one!

-Angst

The fire danced, flitting left and right. It was different than any other fire set in hell, it wasn't meant to hurt anyone or destroy anything. It was just a small flame, melancholically melting the dripping wax down the white lilac scented pillar. Floral scents were hard to come by unless you made them yourself, it was hell after all, its not like theres a flower garden planted on every corner. The candles single wick didn't produce more than a drop of light. It just flickered every now and then, entertaining its own little lonesome sway. Your demeanor softened as you looked at it from the petal filled bath you currently resided in.

Oddly you felt at peace, understood, almost comforted. You had learned to dance the same way it seemed. You caught yourself when you fell, twisting and turning to please an audience. It was a cruel existence. At least the flame looked content in some way, at least it would never know what it was like to contort under the will of another. Yet it was still a light in darkness, shining for no other reason than to survive...All it could ever do was take, even if it didn't want to, fire needs to burn. To burn it must destroy. You sighed sinking deeper into the bubbly water. You didn't want to think about your past. Not anymore. You didn't have to anymore anyway. Life had not been kind to you and that constant displeasure followed you through your death and into the pits of hell. Funny how suffering could follow biting desperately at your heels and the man who was so "desperately" in love with you in life just couldn't find it within himself to stay...God you sounded bitter. To be fair you were. After all he had ruined your life and he didn't even know it...It wasn't that bad was it? You probably would still be in hell regardless, even without his "involvement" or lack of- you had always been a sinner. It wasn't worth it to be upset, not anymore he's most likely dead, you definitely are, whose to say if he'd even wind up down here. You paused a moment, laughing at the silly conclusion overthinking had led you to.. no that fucker is definitely in hell. Sweet as he was up front, he had a dark side that went much deeper than his soft exterior could cover. You closed your eyes..

1923- Central New Orleans

Suddenly it was 1923. The flower lined streets of late spring in New Orleans. His smile never wavering as he dragged you from store to store. As your dear companion, and biggest supporter, he had asked you to assist him at the radio station. Now that you had finished school you would need a job anyway. You'd always had a beautiful voice and a knack for writing. It just made sense. His hand squeezed yours lightly pulling you from your thoughts. In his hands, he held a burgundy day dress and a matching bow.

"Darling, would you try this on for me? I believe it is high time you were rewarded for all of your hard work. I believe you would simply sparkle in this color"

You smile softly at his gentle tone, taking the delicate dress in your hands. You find yourself caught in his eyes. It feels like you two are the only people on the planet

You feel the familiar sensation of tears on your face, you open your eyes again, you hadn't realized you'd started crying.

you let out the shrill scream you didn't know you were holding in. the fluke of champagne you had so tediously been savoring since you began your bath cracked slightly. You downed the rest of the glass, and grabbed the bottle sitting lazily on the floor. You didn't want to think about him or your life anymore...but it consumed you. You had so many more important things to fret about in your..current..environment. Songs to sing, bitches to kill, people to fuck. A grand glorious array of newer shinier problems, and yet you were stuck sulking about the past. You take a deep breath shaking slightly despite the warm vanilla scented water surrounding you. You remove your hand from the water motioning to the shadow hiding behind a vase (of no more than slightly wilted roses). It slinks forward at your beckoning, climbing to the white marble countertop of your vanity, it clicks the worn down knob of your rickety old radio. light jazzy music trickles out and fills the air with lovesick nostalgia you weren't entirely prepared to let in. No matter what he had done...you would always fall back to him. Even if he was nothing more than ill-fated failed fourteen year "endeavor". fourteen years is quite a long time, even if the majority of it was spent more or less platonically. You really did love him. Love doesn't always follow those that leave, you are testimony and truth to that. You let your mind wander guided by the static filled notes of the radio.

Hey, hobo man

Hey, Dapper Dan

You've both got your style

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

Even through the shudder of the static, it really did sound like him. Despite being the "host" of the station. He had his fair share of performances. For such a Hell bound soul he had the voice of an angel.

You close your eyes once again and allow the melody to take you back to an easier time.

1926- New Orleans, Your apartment

You sing along with whatever tune the radio gives you. You're at peace, simply existing for no other reason than to be with your friend.

"Dance with me my little canary, your voice lights a fire within me"

He pulls you in by the waist. His hands splayed across your hips holding them with a gentleness you'd never expected him to hold for you. He leans his head down against the yours and places a chaste kiss on your forehead

"Alastor" you giggle, the sensation tickling you slightly. "You are quite ridiculous"

"Ridiculous?" he feigns hurt. "My darling I am so far from ridiculous the word does not find sense within my ears" he spins you around and into his chest, you roll your eyes ignoring his antics

"Dearest are you aware you are speaking with the future of radio?"

"The future of radio? Please Love, don't jest. The 20s surely have more in store than you" You laugh into his chest and he shockingly laughs with you.

Neither of you know it but you are both so drunk on the sound. To you, his laugh sounds like the swift church bells that used to ring throughout your home town whenever someone got married. It feels familiar and yet like a distant memory. It makes you want to hear it over and over again until your ears stop working, and even then you'd settle in just fine feeling the vibrations of his chest. He sounds like home. To him, your laugh sounds like the rushing creek and smooth algae covered stones resting deep beneath the trees draped in Spanish moss of his mothers cabin in the woods. Just hearing your laugh he can feel the spotted sunlight speckling his freckled face underneath the big willow tree. You sound like home. Everything about you- it felt like home to him. His hands were crafted to hold soft curves of your body. His ears were made to hear your voice and your voice alone. You were purpose, his home. You don't know it, but it is that realization that sparked the idea of marriage into his heart.

That fire was put out not long after.

You at least had those nine years as his friend, three years as his "copain" if you will- and two years as his fiancée...and so many years alone. You only spent 14 years in the company of this man. You had lived before knowing him a good 17 years, and a good long bit after.

Why were you so stuck?

You hum along subconsciously, the objects in your bathroom begin to glow a familiar pink, levitating slightly in the air as you continue to hum. Your ability isn't weak by any means, but for some reason you were. You were nothing in comparison to hells overlords, especially the newest trio of Vs. Your power is so deeply connected to your voice, how can you hold power when it doesn't belong to you anymore? You drift back to the memory of your arrival. Scared, alone, dressed a great deal less than modestly, and equipped with nothing more than a pair of horns, some wings you couldn't quite use yet, and a thin devil like tail. It was only your third hour in hell. You didn't understand the rules. You were playing a twisted game in which you didn't realize you were just another piece of.

Shock can make a person anxious and fear will make them stupid. He was tall and smelled distinctly of cigars, soured whiskey, and something pungently sweet you couldn't name. It burned your nose as you inhaled it. You would become well aquatinted with the smell of lust in the years to come, you just didn't know it yet. It seemed innocent at first, just a simple contract, no different than a job. All you had to do was sing and dance at a club, in exchange for safety. But it was different and it wasn't innocent. He was cruel and yet no different than so many of the men you had dealt with in life. He agreed to your terms of anonymity and thats about it. You had your private life and his life. Valentino never played fair. You didn't know that yet, and now you're hells favorite sinner, a least no one knew it was you. If he had asked you another day later you would have realized you could have probably fended for yourself, with some difficulty anyway. At least you wouldn't have to be in this mess. You wouldn't be fucking six people before noon. You wouldn't be constantly covered in bruises and scars...Maybe you could have found him, Alastor that is. Maybe you could have at least been friends again. Its silly to hope for anything more since your romantic relationship ended...✨the way it did✨

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

1931- New Orleans, The river

The two of you sit beside each other in a small wooden row boat. Your hair is tied back with your signature crimson ribbon. He fiddles with the pocket of his jacket. The Louisiana soundscape of crickets, frogs and running water accompanies your conversation. Fireflies light up the air, almost bringing the stars down to your fingertips. With a buzz and a gentle green glow, the small creature lands on your hand. Your smile leaks wonderment and Alastor can hardly contain the love he feels for you.

As a Radio Host, he is quite agile in the way of words, yet something about you has him constantly at a loss. He takes a deep breath, unsure of what to say his voice wavers as he begins to speak.

"y/n, I want to thank you for the effect you've had in my lif-"

"My love look at the stars!" You didn't mean to cut him off, Your arms stretched upwards your face turning to meet his. The stars were so much brighter then they were in the city, it was only natural for you to be excited

"Yes doll, I see them, they're the same as they were last night and many many nights before hand"

You let out an impatient huff

"that doesn't make them any less beautiful." a mischievous glint hides in your eyes "now wouldn't it be so dreadfully terrible if I got bored looking at you just because I've already seen you before?" You fake a yawn and look at him eyes seething with boredom

"It would be so dreadful considering I was about to propose to you"

There is no other word to describe what you felt other than shocked. You had been an item for quite some time, but you never figured he would stick around (and "seal the deal" if you will).

Tears begin to run down your face rambling small words of agreement and love. You had never expected him to..love you that way. He was who he was, a dreadfully popular radio host, and you weren't really anything more than an assistant. People really only listened for him..yet in this moment, he was speaking only for you.

"I love you so dearly my y/n. If life without you exists I do not want to exist through it"

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

1934: New Orleans, Alastor's house

The house was empty. He was gone. Fully and truly gone. It had been a year since you'd seen or heard from him and six months since the birth of your son. It didn't feel like your house, it didn't feel like your life anymore. It was all still his. His things still bled into your side of the closet, his last purchase, a book, dust encrusted and unread. The blankets and pillows set on the couch exactly as you both had left them after falling asleep to the rain the night before he left wordlessly. You found yourself sporting one of his shirts more often than your own...until eventually they didn't smell like him anymore. The whole house used to reek of his signature vanilla smell. Theres nothing left here but dust and the crooked board of the desk he insisted he could build himself "just fine".

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

That matters

1936- New Orleans; ✨that shitty bar you performed at✨

"Get the fuck up you bitch"

You felt his hand tangle in your hair and pull you to your knees. All you could do was groan in pain.

"I'm so sorry it won't happen again I promise"

You mutter almost to yourself. He rolls his eyes shoving you into the counter smashing a glass in the process. Your vision blurs for a second seeing the glass shards decorating your h/c locks in a halo. You feel the blood trickle down your forehead.

"Do you think anyone else would hire you? A whore with nothing to her name and a useless ugly bastard child from god knows who?" You feel angered at his words. Insulting you is one thing, but your child?

But then it sinks in, he's right. The 30s are a sick decade, nothing progressive about them. No one else would hire you. You are lucky to work here..despite it all. You tell yourself anything is better than living on the streets. The mantra doesn't dull the pain but it makes it easier to put up with. You don't have a choice. You have a child to take care of.

"Get rid of him"

you stay silent unsure if you heard him correctly.

"Get rid of the boy. I don't care if you leave him in a box on the street or kill him yourself"

He reaches for a small silver knife under the bar's counter. He places it against your throat.

" y/n..You won't like it if I do it dearest, besides you are saving him the shame of having a mother like you. At least if he's adopted elsewhere he has a chance at a half decent life" he took a deep swig from his un-shattered glass of whiskey, looking at you with such deep distain.

You had never hated anyone the way you hated that man..But he was right. You would never be able to give your baby the best life. It would never get better because you couldn't make it better. So you found a young couple not to far from New Orleans, they took him in, and he got to be happy. he ended up living a successful life. He still is. If nothing else theres that. You know your own misery doesn't automatically allow others to be happier, but at times its what keeps you going.

Your mind is flooded with more and more thoughts. Thousands of little memories pilling themselves on top of you. Who would've thought, even deceased, even owned by Valentino, even trapped in an ever so violent place, the real plight of hell would be your thoughts. You light a cigarette and get out of the tub. You throw on a dark red robe and sit on the vanity's counter to brush your damp hair. The song continues into a jazzy interlude before it reprises again

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But, brother

You're never fully dressed

You're never dressed

Without a smile

You stretch out your wings in the mirror, looking at your demonic self. No matter how many times you catch yourself in the mirror, even after ten years of this hellish existence. It still strikes you as odd. You look more or less the same. The same hair color and skin tone, although slightly more grey. The tail was just fucking weird no matter how long you had it. The song erupts into the finale distracting you from your thoughts. You begin to sing along with it, smiling softly. It really does sound like him. The same pink glow takes over the room as well as your body, Your eyes begin to glow that same soft pink, your hair floating above your shoulders.

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

You're never fully dressed without a smile

The last line comes out much quieter than the rest. A sense of sadness overtakes you once again as you realize how pathetic this whole night turned out. You'd spent the whole night "Simping", as Velvette would say, over a relationship that ended decades ago. Yikes. The static from the radio clicks up a few notches, You cover your ears at the sudden noise. You quickly reach for the dial in order to turn off the device..And then you hear it. You hear him.

"Dearest.." Its almost unintelligible through the static

You think you've finally fucking lost it. Ten years in Hell and you've officially gone "delulu"...another Velvette saying but it feels fitting.

“y/n.”

He called softly, the static in his voice heavy and nearly unreadable.

You almost didn't believe it.

"Y/n" He repeats the static fizzling out leaving his voice raw and almost natural. Fuck this was real. You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how to. You weren't sure if he could even hear you..how he would respond? Would it be worse if he did? It had been an entire decade since you fell, All of this time- he never bothered to contact you. Why now? Why so much later?... Had he forgotten about you? Did he just..die? You cant discern which is worse...that he had left you and your son and lived a long guilt free life...or that he made no attempt to even speak to you in the decade you had inhabited the same existence.

Ok that was all like exposition and shit..considering part two but I AM VERY TIRED RN

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #fanfic #god this is kinda ass #tumblr is my shit hole and i will scream whatever I want into the void #lol what even is this #alastor died oops #y/n #y/n fics are my last mental defense before massive decline

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luvangelbreak · 3 months

Text

Deprived | Fourteen

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, smutty smut smut, oral (fem!receiving / male!receiving), fingering word count: 3.6k a/n: i kinda went off with this one?? i kinda fucking ate??? i actually am so proud of this chapter????

pov: layla

I don't know what was going through my head. I didn't understand why I was doing what I was doing. I never wanted to be this close to someone, figuratively and literally, but something felt different about Matt. He gave me something I had never felt before and I couldn't figure out what it was.

I hated it at first, it made me never want to see him again. But instead, I felt myself drawn towards him soon after our drive to McDonald's. His sense of naivety, innocence and pure love for the world made me want to protect him from it. I knew I would destroy it if I stuck around too long but selfishly, I wanted to be the one to show him what life was like outside of his beautiful little bubble.

So I popped it and leaned in to place my lips against his. He didn't move for a moment and I thought I had made the wrong move, maybe he didn't want this. But then that feeling washed away when his mouth moved against mine gently, his lips sliding against my own in a soft and caring manner.

It was like that for a moment, soft and delicate just like he was. But there was a switch, a moment of passion and adrenaline between us and I moved to straddle his waist, a heavy breath leaving his lips when I did so. He placed his hands on my waist, gentle fingertips gripping the warm skin of my hips so softly as if he thought I would break if he pressed too hard.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, sliding myself forward as I tangled my hands in his brown curly hair. I couldn't stop myself, my body felt like it was out of my brain's control as I pressed my body against his further as our mouths moved in sync. I'd kissed people before, I'd been this close physically to someone before, but it never felt like this.

There was always a disconnect, a gap no one could ever quite fill. There was never a passion, a longing to hold someone so tightly as if you were scared they would slip away at any moment until this point in time.

I rolled my hips forward over his own, a groan emitting from his mouth that ignited a fire in my stomach that I couldn't ignore any longer. I repeated my actions and I felt his hands gripped my hips ever so slightly tighter.

"Layls," he mumbled breathlessly against my lips and I barely pulled away, still rolling my waist back and forth against his.

"What is it, pretty boy?" I asked softly, catching his lips in mine again quickly before I pulled back again, this time opening my eyes to see his cheeks had a tint of pink across them, his lips slightly puffed.

"Are- are you sure this is okay?" he asked quietly and I smiled at his genuine concern before I nodded.

"Mhm. Are you okay with this?" I asked in the same hushed tone, using my fingernails to scratch the nape of his neck lightly and he nodded, "I need words."

"Yes," he answered quickly before leaning forward, connecting his lips with mine again. There wasn't a hesitance to his actions anymore, his hands gripping my sides unapologetically as his hips began rolling into my own.

A whine escaped from my lips as he squeezed my hips and I felt him smile against my lips, the heat building between my thighs as every second passed. I pulled his bottom lips between my teeth, biting down lightly, a hum emitting from him. I kissed him gently again before biting his lip ever so slightly harder eliciting a moan from his lips.

I pulled back and looked down at him, a smirk on my lips as I said, "Matthew Sturniolo, do you have a pain kink?"

"A little," he answered quietly, looking up at me with dilated pupils as his eyes glazed over with lust and a smile on his lips.

"Cute," I mumbled as I leaned forward, placing my lips on his and he melted into me again.

I began grinding my hips against his again and he let out a small, "Fuck."

"Matt," I breathed heavily as I continued kissing him, "You don't have to be so gentle."

"I don't wanna do something you don't like," he responded quietly, placing a kiss on my lips as our breathing got heavier.

"I'll tell you if I don't just please..." I trailed off as I tugged on the hairs on the nape of his neck and I moved to trail kisses down his jawline before I whispered in his ear, "Touch me."

That was all he needed before the switch flipped in his brain, his hands travelling from my waist to grab my ass roughly. I let out a heavy breath, still trailing kisses down his neck before I sucked on the skin just below his jaw. He let out a groan and unexpectedly I was flipped over onto my back, a gasp leaving my lips from the sudden movement.

He sat between my legs, leaning up to slide his shirt off of his head and I stared at his torso in awe. I never got sick of looking at him and I'd spend all day just staring at him if I could.

"You okay?" he asked while crawling over me, placing his hands on either side of my head and I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him down to my lips again.

He trailed his right hand down to my waist, gripping it lightly before his hand slowly made its way up my shirt. He smiled against my lips when he reached my chest, realising I wasn't wearing a bra.

"Can I take this off?" he asked against my lips, tugging on my shirt lightly and I nodded. He leaned back and I gripped his forearm to pull myself up. He grasped the hem of my shirt, sliding it up my body at a teasingly slow pace as I lifted my arms up, allowing him to pull it over my head before throwing it onto the bed beside us.

I fell back onto the bed and I looked up to see him staring at me below him. Instinctually, I covered my chest and stomach with my arms but Matt reached his hands forward, gently grabbing my wrists and pulling my hands away from my body slowly.

"Don't hide from me, pretty girl," he whispered as he leaned forward gently trailing kisses down my neck as I tilted my head to the side to give him more access. He made his way down to my chest, looking up at me as if to study my reaction as he kissed between my boobs making me shudder.

He pecked kisses all over my chest as I tried to steady my breathing. I felt slight anxiety being so exposed to him, the vulnerability making me feel uncomfortable but I didn't want him to stop. I let out a whine as he wrapped his mouth around my left nipple, using his hand to knead my other boob. I tilted my head back, my hands finding their way to his hair before tugging on it slightly making him groan around me.

As he sucked and licked my chest, I shifted on the bed. The ache between my legs was becoming unbearable as he began lowering himself further, kissing down my stomach and I sucked in my stomach subconsciously. He paused, looking up at me as I let go of his hair.

"Why are you doing that?" he asked softly and my eyebrows furrowed.

"Doing what?" I questioned back and he placed his palm on my stomach.

"You don't have to suck in your stomach, pretty girl. I think you're beautiful just the way you are," he looked at me with a soft smile and I sighed, letting my stomach return back to its normal shape. He smirked up at me before trailing kisses along my waist. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts before mumbling, "Can I take these off?"

"Please," I pleaded, lifting my hips up to show my urgency. He chuckled as he leaned back further, pulling my shorts down before I kicked them off my feet. He leaned back over me, placing his left hand beside my head to hold himself up as he kissed my lips again.

He suddenly cupped my pussy with his right hand over my underwear making me moan into his mouth. He began circling my clit painfully slowly and I bucked my hips upward to make him hurry up.

"So impatient," he mumbled against my lips before he pulled his hand away making me whine from the loss of contact. He continued kissing me before he slid his thumb on the inside of the waistband of my underwear making me shudder. He teasingly dragged his thumb against my skin before he pulled back from me, sitting back on his heels to look down at me.

He hooked his hands inside the waistband, looking at my face for any sign to stop as I shifted under him. He pulled my underwear over my legs at a slow pace before I kicked them off my feet like I'd done with my shorts moments prior. I clenched my thighs together, insecurity flooding me again and he ran his hands along my thighs. Wettness was pooling between my legs so much that I was convinced I was dripping onto the sheets below me.

"You okay?" he asked while squeezing the flesh of my thighs in his palms and I nodded, "Words, baby."

"I'm okay," I mumbled, still holding my thighs together as I placed my arms over my stomach, "I'm just completely naked and you're still in jeans."

"You want me to take 'em off?" he asked, a smirk on his lips once more and I nodded quickly. He began unbuttoning his jeans while looking into my eyes as I breathed heavily. He undid the zipper before pulling them past his waist, sliding them over his knees and kicking them off his feet. My eyes trailed down his body seeing the imprint of his dick through his black boxers making me bite my lip. His hands travelled back down to my thighs, gently pulling them apart before he stared down at my pussy.

"Don't just stare at me. Do something," I demanded impatiently and he chuckled, shuffling down so his head was between my thighs as he lay on his stomach. He trailed kisses down my thighs, sucking and biting at them every now and then as I whined, "Matt."

"What is it, pretty girl?" he mumbled against my skin and I threw my hands back, balling the sheets between my fists.

"Please. I need you to do something," I asked quietly and he chuckled against my thigh. The scruff on his cheeks brushed against my thigh as he made his way down to my core, wrapping his arms around my thighs to hold them in place.

He licked a stripe up my core making me whine loudly from the sudden friction. That was all the confirmation he needed before he wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking and licking softly as moans tumbled from my mouth. I moved my right hand to his hair, tangling it between my fingers as my hips shifted to grind against his face.

I tugged on his hair roughly eliciting a moan from his mouth that travelled straight to my clit, the vibrations making another loud moan fall out of my lips.

"Fuck, Matt," I panted as I tilted my head back, my back arching in pure pleasure. The hair on his cheeks added to the sensory overload I was feeling, my thighs clenching around his head making him hum against me. He removed his hands from around my thighs, one of them reaching up to grab my boobs roughly as the other joined his face between my legs.

He slowly inserted a finger into my pussy making me pull on his hair once again as he moaned into my clit again. He began pumping his finger in and out of me slowly as he pulled his mouth away to look up at me, his chin dripping with my wetness making him somehow look even sexier than before.

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth and my breathing became more rapid. He carefully added another finger and I clenched around him as he looked down at my pussy in awe. He let go of my boob, quickly finding my hand that was gripping the sheets beside me and threaded our fingers together before his head dipped back down to my core.

The sensation of his hand in mine, his hair running against my thighs as his mouth worked on my bundle of nerves while his fingers quickened their pace made the knot in my stomach tighten and I knew I wouldn't last much longer.

"Matt," I moaned out as I pulled on his hair even tighter as he hummed against me, "I'm gonna-"

My words were cut off by a moan and I squeezed his hand tightly. I pulled his head impossibly closer towards me as his tongue swirled my clit rapidly and I let incomprehensible noises fall from my mouth.

"You wanna cum, baby?" he mumbled against me, the vibrations adding to the pleasure even more.

"Uh-huh," I panted, my hips shifting as I came so close to my high.

"Cum for me, pretty girl," he demanded as he went impossibly faster on my clit, his fingers feeling like heaven inside of me. It pushed me over the edge, finally reaching the climax I had been chasing.

"Fuck, Matt!" I yelled as my thighs squeezed around his head as he worked me through my high. My legs shook uncontrollably around him and he moaned against me, rutting his hips into the mattress below him. He slowed his pace as I clenched around his fingers, my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

I let go of his hair as he carefully pulled his fingers out of me before placing one last kiss on my clit making my body jerk at the sudden contact again. He kept his other hand in mine as he moved to kneel between my thighs again, bringing his fingers between his lips and sucking them clean.

How does he get hotter with everything he does?

He crawled back over me, placing a gentle kiss on my lips before smiling against them, whispering, "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

I smiled against him, tasting myself as I ran my tongue along his lips before I let go of his other hand, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.

"My turn," I mumbled against his lips before I pushed him onto his back and I climbed on top of his thighs. He let out a huff from the unexpected movement.

"Layls, you don't have to-"

"I want to," I cut him off as I ran my hands along the soft skin of his chest. Although I was sweating, my nipples were rock hard from the cold air and I bit my lip looking down at him, "I wanna make you feel good. Please."

He smiled up at me before nodding and I pursed my lips, hiding the shit-eating grin that threatened to cover my face as he said, "Just know I don't expect you to."

I let the grin now cover my face from his sweetness and I nodded before saying, "Tell me if you don't like anything I do."

"I like everything you do," he replied smoothly making me shake my head before I shuffled down, hooking my hands under the waistband of his boxers. His chest rose and fell rapidly as I slowly pulled the boxers down his thighs, his dick springing out and hitting his stomach from how hard he was.

"Fuck," I whispered to myself as I looked at the length in front of me, not realising how big he was until now. I moved off of his lap, sliding his boxers off of his legs and onto the floor before I grabbed his knees, sliding them apart.

I moved to kneel between his legs which were still flat on the bed as I felt him observe every move I made. I felt the wetness pool between my legs again just from looking at him splayed out on the bed. My eyes locked with his and I smiled, a giddy feeling arising in my stomach. His mouth was hung open, his eyes filled with lust making me want to pleasure him even more.

I shuffled down even further, carefully wrapping my right hand around the base of his dick making him hiss from the sudden contact. I slowly began pumping him in my hand as I shuffled back, bending forward to give him the perfect view of my ass.

I paused the movement of my hand, licking a stripe from the base of his dick all of the way to the tip making him whine as he clenched his eyes closed, balling the sheets in his fists as if to contain himself. I kissed his tip, a whimper falling from his lips before he looked down at me. I opened my mouth, looking up at him as I began taking his tip into my mouth, my tongue swirling around it teasingly before I pushed my head down. He hit the back of my throat and I closed my eyes, thankful my gag reflex was practically nonexistent.

A moan escaped his lips as I bobbed my head up and down, my hand working on the rest of his length that I couldn't fit into my mouth. His hips jerked forward, his tip hitting the back of my throat roughly and a choked moan left his mouth.

"Fuck, sorry," he mumbled and I looked up to see an apologetic look on his face, letting me know he didn't mean to move his hips. I pulled back, spitting into my palm before working my hand around him faster as he panted heavily, whimpers and whines leaving his lips desperately.

I swiped my thumb over his tip, a loud moan leaving his lips involuntarily as he bucked once again. I smiled at him as he tilted his head back, his jaw clenching. I continued pumping his dick quickly, running my hand over his tip every now and then eliciting a moan from him every time.

I let my hand go from around him, placing it on his stomach as I leaned forward. I kissed his tip before I forced my mouth down on him, taking him fully as I felt him bulge in my throat. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as they began watering, the sensation winding me up once again.

"Fuck!" he yelled, gripping my hair roughly making me moan around him as he began guiding my head over his length. Unimaginable noises emitted from his throat as he gripped my hair, sliding me up and down his dick with ease.

I let him use my head however he wanted, going as fast and rough as he needed to feel good. I quickly tapped his stomach and he loosened his pressure on my hair, allowing me to come up for air as I used my hand to pump him again.

"You feel good, pretty boy?" I panted, catching my breath the best I could as he nodded, catching his own breath before I pushed my head back down, taking him down my throat once again and he moaned so loudly I wouldn't be surprised if the whole neighbourhood could hear him.

"I'm gonna cum," he said so quickly I almost didn't catch it and I quickened my pace as he whined loudly. He gripped my hair tightly making me moan around him.

"Oh god," he moaned loudly before I felt a warm liquid coat my mouth and I continued to work around him, slowing my pace so he didn't get overstimulated too quickly, "Oh my fucking god, Layla."

I pulled him out of my mouth with a pop before I swallowed the cum, some of it dripping from the side of my mouth. He let go of my hair, reaching his hand around and wiping the liquid from the side of my mouth. I grabbed his wrist, pulling it toward me before I slid his thumb into my mouth, sucking on it gently as he looked at me in awe.

I pulled his thumb out and he smiled at me as I crawled forward, laying down on his chest as my legs fell between his. I placed my hand on his chest before putting my chin on the back of my hand, looking up at him with a smile as he caught his breath.

"You will be the death of me, woman," he mumbled with a dopey smile and I giggled at him, pushing a few pieces of hair out of his face with my other hand.

"You're welcome," I smiled up at him and he wrapped his arms around my back, pulling me tight against him. He swirled my lower back with his thumb gently before I leaned up, placing another kiss on his lips. I pulled the covers over our naked bodies despite the fact we were both warm from our activities but I wanted to keep his warmth on me as long as possible.

"If you stay on me like this, I'll get hard again," he smirked as he looked down at me and I smiled, shrugging my shoulders.

"I won't be mad if you do," I giggled to myself, the dopamine of my high still travelling through my brain as he pulled a hand up, brushing my hair behind my ear gently.

"You're so cute," he whispered as he leaned forward, placing a kiss on my forehead and I closed my eyes contently, hoping I could stay in this moment forever.

tags:

@ilovechrissturniolo1 @sturnfix @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @sturniolowhore @dsturniolo @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @pinklittleflower @thatcrazybitch-69 @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn @leprechaunbirthdaygirl

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harmshake · 2 months

Text

The Gentle Horror, Part 3

What is done in the dark will always be brought to light...

Vampire Jimmy Uso x Nyma (fem!black!oc) | 18+, NSFW, mentions of graphic m*rder, domestic violence, blood, and smut | 7,474 words

a/n: We're back! I decided that instead of rewriting the entire series to edit in Vampire Jimmy, I'd just edit out Vampire Swerve. 💅🏾

Happy reading! Read Parts 1 and 2 or my non-spooky stuff here, if you'd like. ✨

"They know what you did, Stephon."

"They're comin' to kill you."

"Wake up. Leave the girl behind and run. Now. Before it's too late."

The dream of Nyma's delicate and beautiful voice had swiftly warped into a nightmare of a deep, panic-stricken tone, trying to shake Stephon awake after a few moments of him feeling trapped within the warning he didn't want to hear.

He knew that voice and knew it well. Daphne, his maker, his ex-lover, and a vampire he hadn't spoken to in nearly a century. Stephon wanted to be surprised that their blood link still connected them after all this time, after he'd sworn her off and crossed the nation to leave her alone, but that surprise abruptly melted into the realization that they could never be separated. Not when it was her blood that ran through his veins and made him what he was. A creature of the night. A vampire that was apparently in such grave danger that Daphne set aside her hurt for him abandoning her to call out to him, help him.

Stephon had his reasons to sever his ties to the woman as though he owed her his life, their time together was just as destructive to it. He had craved peace, quiet, and calm after decades of insanity and sin. Peace, quiet, and calm that Nyma and her beautiful, brown eyes, soft skin, and even softer heart blessed him with when he least expected it, but needed it most.

He knew as soon as the sun went down that day he would go to her, rid himself of the fear that swirled in his mind from Daphne's caution from wherever she was, hopefully not near, so that he could be near Nyma, ridding her clothes and hiding himself in her warmth that made him feel not only alive but safe. Stephon knew better than to dismiss his maker's message as he also knew what he'd done...and that certainly the consequences were imminent.

Yet he wouldn't put himself or Nyma in harm's way, already thinking ahead of how to tell her of his gruesome mistake and to come away with him to leave it all behind him. She wasn't happy here, regardless, not when she was alone in a new state with no friends or family. Not when Tyree, her husband, the only person she knew, was dead. Not when it was he who killed him.

He was an abusive piece of shit, a low-down nigga, and Stephon had no qualms about scrubbing the earth clean of him. Yet he did so not at Nyma's behest, but at his impulse, something he wasn't certain how to speak to her about, but he would. He had to. And he had to believe that she felt those blood-rushing, delicious, and deep emotions for him as he did for her to trust him when he confessed that he murdered him for her good—that he only wanted to protect her.

Just like Stephon wanted to protect her now. If danger was after him, surely it would be after her as well since he had revealed what he was to her. Stephon shook again in his sleep as the nightmare, as Daphne's voice, finally released him, his eyes popping open with a jolt shooting through his body that lay in his bed. He didn't have to adjust his groggy eyes to know it was still sunlight beyond his basement bedroom, sunlight that would destroy his body like that of a lit torch setting ablaze a bundle of sticks, yet Stephon's gaze sharpened with immediate awareness that there was danger, the danger, right here and surrounding his bed as his eyes widened to see three tall men he didn't recognize in matching black turtlenecks and jeans like the Texas heat outside wasn't blistering.

However, Stephon did recognize that the heat would never touch them, not when they were cold-blooded, not when they were vampires just like him. Vampires sent here to kill him. Before he could think to flee with his incredible speed, the three men used their combined and even quicker speed to pin him down to his mattress, two of them at either end of him with large and fucking strong hands holding down his arms and ankles as the third man retrieved a wooden stake from the holster on his belt.

"Shit, wait, pl—" Stephon's eyes protruded with panic, the same panic he could still hear enmeshed in his brain where Daphne's fear thought to bury itself for his own good. But it was too late, his words too late, falling on deaf ears, anyway, as he knew the men would not hear his pleas, only his brief scream as the man hovering above him drove the stake into his chest, through his heart. He did it with such ease and force like that of a knife sinking into supple, human skin as Stephon was once human, too, once immortal unless struck in this brutal and specific way...that ease and force unsettling yet short-lived, short-lived like the millions of thoughts of his every wrongdoing, regret, and wasted love, as he could do nothing more than stare into the eyes of his murderer before his blood spewed from his chest and blurred his vision.

Vision that obscured as it faded to black in just seconds as he faintly heard Nyma's voice in the corner of his mind a final time as she sang a spiritual his mother used to, a song he had not heard Nyma sing and never would, yet he prayed with his last breath that his soul would linger in the ether to perhaps hear it, hear her, in another lifetime...

・・━━━━━━━━━━ ∞ ━━━━━━━━━━・・

The kill had taken only a second, but Jon felt it for hours later.

It didn't matter how many vampires he'd witnessed in their final moments, didn't matter how many times he restrained them to keep them still for their demise, or, worse, how many times it'd been him with the wooden stake in his grasp before he wedged it into their chests to pierce their undead hearts...their deaths were still deaths. And yet he knew they were justified, or, better, well-deserved.

Jon may have carried with him the weight of ending a life, but if it was a life that unabashedly tormented and ended another, he believed it was only right to correct the sin with another that cleansed the earth of their evil. It was not only his belief but his sworn duty as a bounty hunter, his only prey vampires that dared threaten to expose their existence with violence against unsuspecting, and usually innocent, human beings.

Jon was human once, a long while ago, yet his heart still bled with the news of war, death, and savagery toward his distant kin—especially if it was at the advantaged hands of a cold beast whose strength would eternally overpower a fragile, defenseless human. The mere thought "boiled" his blood enough to make it his life work to protect not only vampires but the humans whom they hid themselves from.

As he and his bounty hunter associates stood around the bedside of the remains of this cruel vampire, his blood splattered along his sheets, the floor, and in every direction, including upon Jon's long braids that fell over his shoulders and left cheek, he smudged the back of his hand to the stain on his skin before they collected what was left of his body to dispose into large, black suitcases lined with plastic. They worked impossibly quickly, seamlessly, packing up him, the sheets, and anything that his blood had touched before they cleaned with hydrogen peroxide and other products to leave the basement pristine and untouched to a mortal's gaze.

Yet, suddenly, Jon couldn't shake the distinct pull of guilt that touched his heart from the mortal who lived just next door, that pull growing stronger as he and his team filed out of Stephon's home through the front door whence they came, knowing no human would detect their presence as they were careful to act at this particular time of day when the sun was high in the hot sky and they were all shuffled away to their jobs in the city. Where a normal vampire would burst into flames from that hot sky, Jon, like his mates, was gifted with the ability to bask in the sun, the particular blessing known to vampires as daywalking, a blessing only bestowed upon bounty hunters by the Liege who depended on them to work tirelessly, day or night, to collect their bounty in good time.

But the human next door, the one who yanked at Jon's heart with her pain so blisteringly blatant that it felt like his own, was home at an odd time, tucked away in her bedroom upstairs and beneath her covers as she tried to sleep but could not. Jon couldn't see her as he and the hunters carried their luggage to their windowless black van to stow their haul, but he could hear her perfectly. Shuffling with restlessness in her cotton sheets, breath huffing with frustration for the lack of rest, lack of peace as every other horror tried to steal it. He knew of those horrors as it was why he was here in her neighborhood: To assassinate the vampire who murdered her husband.

However, Jon could feel with his heightened sense of discernment that this human woman knew nothing of that horror, only what it left behind...hurt, confusion, and a dull sense of healing that he felt trying to blossom in her heart from the vampire who rested in pieces in the back of their truck to be burned in the desolate woods as they closed the doors and climbed inside. That was the guilt that tried to rip at Jon's chest as they pulled away from the two-story home that once housed a beast who no longer could plague this otherwise quiet, lush neighborhood.

But it was another death to plague that poor human woman. Another mystery for her never to solve. And, obliquely, it was his fault. His brown eyes glanced at her home growing smaller in the passenger side mirror as they drove down the street, yet his guilt did not grow any smaller with it. And Jon knew then that it would not unless he did what he knew was right: Protect the humans who could not protect themselves.

・・━━━━━━━━━━ ∞ ━━━━━━━━━━・・

Four days.

Four days without Stephon.

It was unlike him to not slip into her home as soon as the sun went down, his home unusually silent when she went to knock upon his door each day, and uncanny for him not to at least speak to her from his own, her blood mingling with his own, too, in a way that she heard his sweet, beautiful voice between her ears even if he was nowhere near.

Yet that was the most disturbing part for Nyma. If Stephon had suddenly gotten too busy to see her, she could understand. He did not lead some simple life that she could even begin to comprehend. But she couldn't hear him anymore. She couldn't feel his presence, something like that of a small void spreading within her heart with eternal blackness where he used to be.

Nyma was only human, only knew what death felt like on the side of the living, the way it gnawed at the heart, but she knew this feeling well as it was the same one that haunted her when Tyree, her late husband, went missing. Stephon was in trouble or...he was not on this side any longer.

The thought kept her up at night and kept her tossing and turning in bed during the day when she tried to catch up on sleep. If there was one thing she was grateful for was the fact that she worked remotely, and yet being home alone in a viciously empty house—save for her golden retriever, Maddie, who could sense her sadness and tried to lick away her tears when they fell from her face as Nyma gently pushed her away—felt like a special kind of torture.

It was already torture to live in a new state so far from home, to live in this new place with her husband who tortured her in his heavy-handed way, to live in this new place with no one to save her until...

Stephon's deep brown eyes gleamed in her mind's eye as Nyma lay in bed, glistening tears running down her cheeks to both sides of the pillow behind her head before she closed her eyes to see his gaze better. Not realizing that the last time she would see it would be the other night after he held her in his arms as he rocked between her legs, rocking her soul with thrusts that she felt somewhere even deeper, even more ethereal. He drank from her that night, his sharp fangs breaking her skin along her delicate throat and hurting her so good, a passion that Nyma never believed existed before Stephon unveiled his true form to her.

A gentle monster. A lovely beast. And yet still merely a mesmerizing man.

Now that man was missing and Nyma wasn't sure if she could handle it. She wasn't handling it, truthfully, the last four days a blur that left the room spinning, her world tilting off axis, and she saw no other way to balance it than escaping into the night, sinking behind her steering wheel, and following the dark roads wherever they took her.

Those first four nights, Nyma felt like she was still searching for Stephon, hoping to see him walking along the bordering woods, sitting on a park bench, hoping to just see him anywhere. When she did not, the dark roads led her to a bar that sat on the corner just outside her neighborhood. Nyma wasn't particularly a drinker, that was more Tyree's taste before he let the liquor fuel his frustrations that he took out on her, and yet she still found herself heading inside after peeping at her reflection in the rearview mirror to adjust the black headwrap that hid her dark, afro curls that she hadn't bothered to touch since sorrow sapped her of her strength. Even her brown skin suffered for it, usually luminous but now pale, both from her sorrow and those cigarettes that she reserved to smoke out that sorrow, going through two packs in the last 72 hours.

She wasn't proud of it, especially when she thought of Stephon's words to her that she was too gorgeous to smoke, but like him and his Hennessy, she had her poison picked, too. And without him here, she felt the need to down more poisons, anything that soothed her nerves with a warm touch...although she had begun to fall in love with his cool touch...

Nyma felt the cool gravel beneath her knees when she fell onto it as she stumbled out of the bar an hour later, too drunk to walk and certainly to drive, but she wanted to go home, and by the grace of whatever god was above she made it there to crawl into her bed, Maddie leaping onto the sheets with her to rest her big head on her waist, and cry herself to sleep as she thought about how that same god could inflict mourning on her time and time again.

When the time was past noon the next day, Nyma was still tangled in her sheets with dried tears and drool on the fabric, only waking when Maddie barked and would not stop. The sound didn't cause her headache, but worsened it, compelling her to snatch the sheets off her body and stare at her bare feet sprouting from the ripped, black jeans she'd worn to the bar last night as she didn't want to fall down the stairs on her way to quiet Maddie by fixing her a late breakfast.

Yet Maddie was not at her bowl in the kitchen but barking and whining for a different reason, standing in her foyer with her hackles standing up, too, her eyes trained on the front door like there was someone behind it. Nyma's eye twitched with her heart twitching along with it from anxiety and excitement that it could finally be him. She clumsily rushed to the mirror that hung to the left of her door as she wiped at her eyes and mouth and adjusted her red tank top to look as presentable as she could, never mind that he had already seen her vulnerable and still called her beautiful.

A few quiet knocks then called from behind her door and Nyma called back, "Coming!" as she petted Maddie on her head to calm her and quickly led her out to the fenced-in backyard before she nearly ran back to her door where the knocks rang again. Her heart pounded hard in her chest to see Stephon as she unlocked and pulled open the door, but it sank just as hard when she then remembered he could not stand in the sunlight. Instead, she spotted a tall, light-skinned brown man standing on her porch.

"Um, yes? Can I help you?" Nyma blurted as she squinted her eyes from the blaring afternoon sun assaulting her bleary eyes. His shoulders were almost broad enough to block it but he shifted on his feet to let it shine on her face, his face handsome yet slightly stern and concerned, even as he attempted a polite smile at her.

"Hello, ma'am. Are you Nyma? My name is Jon. I'm a friend of Stephon's. Can I talk with you 'bout him for a minute?" Jon's voice was just as polite as his smile, deep and laced with kindness and more of that concern Nyma could see crinkling his features. That same concern shifted to dread in her chest to hear Stephon's name come out of this stranger's mouth.

"Y-yeah, uh, please, come in," she stammered as she let Jon slowly walk past her and into her home where he stood awkwardly like he didn't know what to do with himself. She watched the long, thick fingers of his left hand twitch before he shoved both hands into the front pockets of his black joggers, switching around on his foot to face her when she said, "Have a seat, please. Do you, um, want anything to drink or—"

"Naw, I'm straight. Just want a few minutes of your time, if that's okay," Jon said without sitting down. His demeanor was already reticent even though he seemed nice enough, yet Nyma felt her dread burrow deeper into her chest at who he was and what he wanted to talk about concerning Stephon which would only take "a few minutes."

"Did something happen to him?" Nyma whispered as he parted his lips to speak, the truth trying to wriggle into her soul that she just wanted to confirm without further dragging it out.

Jon's face remained stern, concerned, yet soft as he replied, "Yeah. He's fled town. There's a warrant out for his arrest."

Nyma's eyes widened once more at the news, first panicked but then confused as Stephon was a sweet and quiet man, he had to be as no one knew what he was but her. She wondered if Jon knew, too. However, she didn't ask, wrapping her arms around herself as she tried to find the words to ask instead, "Arrest?! For what?"

"No easy way to say this," he said under his breath with a heavy sigh before he added, "Stephon killed someone."

"Killed? Who? W-what?!" Nyma spat immediately in disbelief. She knew Stephon had a notably noxious way of "eating his dinner," but she also knew he wasn't the type to be greedy. The night that would never leave her mind of when he feasted on her, he couldn't have been more tender...

Now Jon's eyes widened slightly at her question and he paused as if to silently debate with himself before he let out another tense sigh, this time his gaze holding hers. "He made me swear on my life not to tell anyone. Jesus. I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you when it shoulda been him before he went on the run. He...he killed Tyree. I'm sorry. I'm so fuckin' sorry."

Jon's hushed words rushed out of him before he rushed to her to catch her as her body tried to collapse to the floor, the blood rushing from her brain as Nyma couldn't stand or think straight, blotches of black filling her mind and vision. She didn't have to think too hard to realize all at once that what Jon said was true, all of the evidence she couldn't see as she got lost in Stephon's mysterious yet sweet gaze distracting her from reality...

The night she met Stephon, he seemed wary of her bruised cheek like he knew who caused it. That same night, Tyree was murdered with a snapped neck that his autopsy report claimed was a clean break with no signs of struggle. Almost immediately after, Stephon cozied up into her life to replace him with his promise to protect her the way her husband never did.

Nyma heard a loud cry echo through the patches of darkness that did not sound like her own but she felt her vocal cords quiver from its strength, saw Jon in spots through that darkness as he held her to his cool chest in a hug that did little to comfort her or muffle her sobs.

"I'm sorry," Jon repeated softly from far away before he pulled her to her couch a few feet away. Nyma's chest heaved with heavy, stuttering breaths as she tried to blink her teary ears to focus on her hands balled up on her lap, a technique she'd read ages ago that claimed to help quell panic attacks. Yet as Jon reappeared with a glass in his hands that her sights focused on then, she knew nothing would help unless there was a stronger substance in that glass besides the water he brought her.

He tried to sit down next to her once she took it from him, but then he seemed to think against it, staying upright as Nyma took a shaky sip of the water and nearly choked when another sob rushed from her throat. He grabbed the glass back from her to place it on her coffee table, his voice still hushed as he murmured, "Shit. I hate to drop this shit on you and leave. I really do. I wasn't supposed to come here in the first place, but it ain't sit right with me for you to be left in the dark 'bout all this."

Nyma glanced up at him and tried to hear him as a mild ringing in her ears threatened to mute him, but she'd heard enough. All she could do was nod and put her face in her hands as that darkness came to consume her, anyway, only able to kind of hear Jon as he hesitated to move before he quietly shuffled to her front door to let himself out.

In the long stretch of silence that passed after he left, Nyma felt frozen to her couch, her cries frozen in her chest, as her pale, brown skin became paler and cool as if her heart had at last, after so many mournings, froze over, too.

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Nine years earlier...

Red light poured through the dark nightclub, the strobes vibrating with the bass of DeJ Loaf's "Me U & Hennessy" as a beautiful, black woman vibrated her body with a sensual swirl of her hips on Jon's lap as he sat on the white leather sofa in his section. He forgot her name and he didn't bother to ask again, too gone off the Remy to care as he cared more about how the thick curves of her ass felt in his hands, watching how it bounced when she bent over to twerk for him.

"You gotta girlfriend?" she asked in his ear once she leaned back against his chest, her long braids spilling on him and her soft, cool lips grazing his skin and making him shiver with the need to feel those lips on his dick that tried to poke her through his jeans.

"Do it matter?" he asked back gruffly, his hands gruffly pawing at her ample breasts in her strapless dress before he sluggishly remembered they were not alone in this section, his boys and the girls they entertained surrounding them. Yet when the woman's delicate moan surrounded his ears, Jon suddenly didn't care to hear or see anything else if it wasn't her leaned over again, face down, ass up, so he could make her whine more of those pretty moans to him.

Yeah, he had a girlfriend at home but she was likely asleep at this ungodly hour of the night, giving him enough time to slip away and do what he pleased as he saw fit. He was a grown man, a strong-willed man, and with the brown liquor coursing through his veins, that strong will led him to the woman's apartment to fit himself inside her with her legs squeezed around his waist and his lips on hers as she let him sip more of her pretty moans as he made her cum.

When she moved her lips to his neck, Jon heard himself moan, too, and felt himself get lost in her tight, wet, and bizarrely cool depths and now her kiss as she found a spot on his skin to suck deeply.

"Goddamn, girl," he moaned again as he thrust even deeper, her odd temperature not hindering his climax creeping up on him, gripping her waist for support as she gripped his naked back with nails scratching at his skin. Her teeth gently scraped his throat where she kissed him, as well, before they nipped a little hard. He cursed again and again, louder, when she bit him harder, a white-hot pain unlike any he'd ever felt shooting through his body when his sloshed brain caught up to the fact that her teeth penetrated his flesh.

Jon tried to stagger up and off of her but she was all of a sudden strong and stronger than him, pinning him to her body as she sucked from his neck with such force he felt lightheaded instantly. His throaty, orgasmic cries spiked into gurgling cries for help as blood filled his mouth, blood that she licked from his lips when it spilled before she continued at his neck. He worked to tear himself away but it was futile as this random bitch had him trapped and, worse yet, he felt dizziness travel from his foggy head and through his limbs where his strength rapidly teetered off.

He had never hit a woman in his life but with his remaining consciousness, he tried to choke her and fight for his life—life that he felt swiftly drain from him and into her mouth, the sounds of her eerily satisfied moans resounding in his ears as every other sound and color in the room dissipated into haunting nothingness. Nothingness he didn't want to meet as it effortlessly swallowed him up against his will.

"Jon."

"It's Jon, ain't it?"

"Get up, baby. Please. Come to me."

He heard her voice beyond him somewhere in the nothingness, her voice that was not Imani's, not his girlfriend's, and he became desperate to cry, scream, and curse at it as if this was the afterlife, he knew he had been sent to hell.

It had to be hell if that woman, that fucking creature, was here, had to be with the distant screams he heard all around him, and yet he was awfully frigid, his body throbbing with the coldest chills and the sharpest pain that kept him frozen wherever he was, his strength still seemingly absent from his body that felt like ice.

Yet when he finally gathered the willpower to slant open his eyes, Jon saw the interior of her bedroom again. The same moonlight billowed through her lavender curtains. The same pearl-white fan that spun lazily from the ceiling. The same round lips attached to that woman, that creature, who stared at him strangely and made him want to run for his life, especially as those lips that were once moist with her red lipgloss now crusted over with flakes of dried blood. His blood.

But he could only move his eyes, eyes that hurt like hell to open wider in fear to take in the monster that greeted him to hell.

"Yes, you're dead. But not really. But you mine now, baby. I'm so glad it worked. I'm glad you're up." She lept from the bed to leave Jon paralyzed on it as his eyes struggled to follow her. Another freezing chill shook his body, the pain so excruciating that a whimper slipped from his throat yet stopped short of his lips that he couldn't open.

"You cold? That'll pass soon, I think. Then you should be able to walk again," she said with a toss of her hand in the air as she breezed out of her bedroom. She returned with the breeze, a speed Jon didn't truly recognize as speed but as her disappearing and reappearing with a young, lanky, white man, no older than 25-years-old, writhing in her arms, his screams sounding just like the ones he faintly heard when he woke up. And yet the woman put him to sleep, her hands snaking around his neck to twist and silence his agonized cries like they never existed.

Jon wanted to cry from the horrendous sight and the cruel sound...but something about the way the man smelled made the pain in his body throb with new intent—not just pain like he was injured, but pain like he was starving.

"You need to drink. That'll help you heal faster. Here." She was at her bedside in the blink of an eye, holding the man like he weighed nothing, gripping him by his short, blond hair as the rest of him tumbled to her carpet, shoving his exposed neck up to Jon's lips.

Thick tears dotted his eyes as he realized she wouldn't do to the man whatever she had done to him, leaving him for dead and making those tears seep from the corner of his eyes that he could only dart in every direction as he tried not to look at the man's jugular vein that seemed to call to him, tried not to inhale whatever that metallic, yet sweet scent was that still surged in that vein.

"Drink. Or else you'll die."

The woman pressed his neck to Jon's mouth, and he felt his gums sting with new teeth that achingly and slowly sprouted from them, teeth that he felt pinch his bottom lip before he reluctantly opened it. His strength gingerly returned only to carefully crane his neck for a better angle to taste the man, taste his blood, the peculiar and horrifying pleasure flowing into his mouth as his tears flowed down his cheeks, forcing a grunt from him as he let the blood slide down his throat.

"That's it, baby. Drink. He's all for you," the nameless creature cooed as Jon's eyes burned with bloody tears, his throat burned from the hot blood, and yet he could not stop. A silent prayer flickered through his mind for the man as he did not deserve this, he did not deserve his life and blood stolen, and yet Jon could still not stop, grunting and gulping and making himself full and sick even after he was certain there was not a drop left in him.

"I'mma get rid of him, feed, and come right back." She stood and hoisted his wilted corpse onto her shoulder and reached down to caress her fingers along Jon's bottom lip which was wet with blood before she said softly, "When I get back, I promise I'll tell you everything. Just know that I'll never abandon you and you can never abandon me...we belong together now, baby."

Her name wasn't Imani. The creature. It was Nika. The monster. She was his maker and he was her hostage. Three days and three nights passed since she made him over like her. A creature, a monster. He had regained most of his strength back by the third night and was able to flit around her apartment, his prison, his hell, like a moth trying to find the light—yet he was unable to leave when there was light outside, her heavy curtains drawn shut during the day that when he tried to open them, his skin sizzled like someone threw fire at him.

And he was unable to leave at night, Nika still much stronger than him, even as a newborn herself but with more time to grow into her new, cold body that possessed powers Jon felt trying to unfurl in his yet he fought it, fought his being, his lust for blood, only fighting to fucking get away from her back to his family.

His girlfriend left to fend for herself and their 3-year-old son, Jon Jr., left to worry about why Daddy never came home, left to wonder why he didn't care enough to call...never to know it was because he cared too much about getting his dick wet.

"You'll never see them again. You can't. You'll kill them on accident. Bet," Nika uttered when she blocked him from her front door. Then she approached him with her hands on his face, hands he shoved away with all his might that might as well have been to the wall the way she stayed planted to the carpet. She reached for him again, her nails digging into the skin of his cheeks as she whispered on his lips, "Forget 'bout them, baby. You mine now, Jon. I was so lonely but then God gave me you...and you got me. We'll never be lonely again."

Jon wasn't having it and wasn't going out with a fight, all the fight he willed in his muscles he used to break free of her grasp once more, ripping her door off its hinge before he flew into the black. The stars and moon twinkled above with no pity on him to hide his frantic bursts of speed he could barely control as he ran, only illuminating him as he prayed no one saw him, and that he didn't accidentally hurt anyone who got in his way, the aromas of their blood wafting from miles and feet away that tempted him to run to it instead of home to see his family.

"Jon!"

Nika wasn't far behind him, closing in, her bare footsteps, from being in too much of a hurry to follow him that she neglected shoes, barely touching the asphalt of the empty street, she was so fast. Faster than him. Surpassing him. Jon cried out as he led her right to his home and watched her sniff the humid air before she lept into it, his eyes bulging in awe and terror to witness her land on her feet on the third-floor windowsill that belonged to him and his family's apartment.

He had only a tremor of a heartbeat, an odd feeling when his soul, or what was left of it, shook with such fright as he dashed inside, not needing to smell the air to find his floor or differentiate Imani and Jon's blood as he recognized it as if he'd always known it, even smelling traces of his own blood in his son. Yet when traces of their blood littered the air, their blood-curdling screams hanging in it, as well, Jon kicked down his door to see perfectly in the near pitch-black living room Imani and her lifeless, brown eyes watching heaven as she lay broken on the tile floor, red pouring from her chest and glistening on the matte finish.

Nika crouched by her body among shards of glass and red, her hands smeared with it and her face with red tears as she shouted at Jon who stood with dread so heavy it nailed him in place, that same dread shouting at him, too, that he was too late, that his son had suffered the same as his mother.

"Jon! Look what you fuckin' made me do!"

"I told you couldn't see them again. I fuckin' told you!"

He was too shaken to speak, too heavy to move, too livid, too destroyed, too weary, too harrowed to do anything but listen to the silence that Nika filled with her laments for him and, somewhere in the distance, though he heard it like it was already here, police sirens.

"Jon, please! Come with me, please!"

Jon blinked and in that same blink, he saw himself cracking a leg off of the wooden coffee table behind Nika, watching it falter on its side before he cracked her spine with the shrapnel, watching her falter on top of Imani's body as her blood erupted from her along with her surprised gasp and shriek before he wedged it deeper and through her chest. He had no reason to believe it would work, no reason to believe vampire lore created by humans was nothing more than lore.

But Jon had one reason to yank the makeshift stake out of her back to flip her over to the tile and stab her again and again and again, her blood painting his face and her body ceasing to move from his first strike.

And as the police sirens and their tires screeched to a halt in front of his building where he heard the cacophony of screams, murmurs, and whispers, he fled the remnants of his home and his family, never to see again, with his one reason that he would never forget: He had no one. Nothing. And it was all his fault.

Present day...

The glass of Coke should have dripped with condensation as the ice had tried to melt in the warm room, yet Jon's cool hand around it kept his drink perfectly chilled before he brought it to his full lips for a tiny sip. He wasn't a fan of soda but water tasted worse. Coffee was better. And even though he was tucked away in a booth at a bar, he didn't care for the taste of alcohol, either.

He hadn't drunk in almost a decade, not since that night that ruined every night that followed it—every night that he spent alone with only the memories of Imani and their son, their faces, their smiles, their laughs, their screams, their cries, their last breaths.

The R&B music in the bar was quite loud but it couldn't drown out his thoughts that were always louder, always reminding him why he owed a great debt to humankind, the kind he had forsaken with his family as his original iniquity. A debt he paid with his duty as a seasoned vampire bounty hunter, the seasons growing warmer, then colder, all while he never grew older, but his bounty grew larger.

It was why he stayed stationed in University Park, a small, suburban neighborhood where he and his mates had slain the vampire that roamed it. He could sense the presence of a few others in the area, but they were well-hidden and well-behaved, causing his team to hit the road for the next hit...yet Jon had circled back as he still felt unsettled.

That debt he believed he owed personally to Nyma, especially after he shattered her world with the news that her friend, and likely lover, Stephon murdered her husband and left town without a word of it to her. The lie he created to deliver that news was one Jon regretted instantly, but he could not tell her the truth. Humans were not allowed to know of his and Stephon's kind. And their kind certainly weren't allowed to harm said humans.

Yet Jon knew he had harmed that human woman with his duties and his words, something that tried to shatter his heart. He sipped his Coke again and licked his lips, tucking his hands in his armpits before he rested his elbows on the glossy, wooden table and shook a bit, his denim jacket providing no warmth as his body underneath it was too cold. He didn't shake for any reason other than studying Nyma as she rose from her stool at the bar to walk in his direction. He didn't want her to see him, didn't want to have to lie to her again, but he felt the need to be here, to observe her.

His mates had already cursed him out from A to Z for bothering with "the mortal," blowing his cell phone up the last week he'd been in Texas, but he was thankful that even in their annoyance with him, they were just as loyal to him and didn't rat him out to the Leige, their bosses and central government of all vampires. Jon knew they could handle a few missions without him while he completed his own: Keep Nyma out of further harm's way.

Maybe it was because of her brown skin that shone similar to Imani's, even her afro coils the same density as they fell around her slender face. Maybe it was because of her soft voice that had a Southern twang to it that wasn't from this area, intriguing him and also worrying him as it slurred with her fifth shot of Hennessy. Or maybe it was because of her trying to order a sixth shot, one that the bartender poured for her when they should have cut her off, especially since Nyma seemed to be trying to drink herself to death as she came to this bar every night he'd been here to watch over her.

Jon watched her now as she struggled on her feet to the restrooms near him, but she did not see him, the shadows of the corner he sat in giving him a full view of the bar but very little of him. Not that she would have noticed him, anyway, the way she ran into the restroom door before struggling to open it, discovering it was locked, and wobbling her way back to her seat to down that shot that waited for her on the counter.

He sighed and shook his head, hating to see her like this, hating that this divine chaos was his fault. He didn't know this human, but he would get to know what it took to protect her from herself, from more of that divine and chaotic mess she was oblivious to. Then he would leave her the right way, not broken like the other day, but healed.

It was the very least Jon could do after devastating his home all those years ago and now hers, too.

With another displeasing sip of his soda, Jon glanced at Nyma from across the room before whipping out his phone from his jeans pocket to scroll through and look busy. He didn't have any active social media anymore or any contacts in his phone he could call besides the work-related ones as he lived to work and worked to live. However, he would be a liar if he said he didn't miss it, miss the simple life of texting his homeboys, posting pics on Facebook, and tagging his family in cute memes he shared on his Wall. The life he had before.

Jon simply thumbed through a Google newsfeed page, his eyes glossing over it all as he refused to scroll through his old apps that captured all the moments of his life before, apps he only kept as mementos as it was too painful to look at.

Instead, his eyes flashed to Nyma to look at her again as she hobbled down from her barstool a second time. He figured she was getting up to try the restroom one more time, yet when her deep brown eyes locked on his with curiosity, Jon slightly shook with that invisible chill to be caught.

He didn't know how he would explain to her that he, a friend of her friend that she had never met before earlier last week, was suddenly in a bar minutes from her home and staring at her off and on.

But as she made her way to him, their gazes still curiously stuck on each other, Jon discreetly sucked his teeth as he quickly thought of another, and unfortunate, lie to slither through them.

A lie to help her sleep at night. A lie to protect her. A lie to hopefully keep her alive.

Thanks for reading! 🖤

a/n: I promise you the next chapter is going to be a lot softer and sweeter cuz WHEW I know this one was a doozy. I appreciate you making it to the end! 🫶🏾

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lovemyavatar · 1 year

Text

STAR GIRL

| Lo’ak x F!Avatar!Reader |

Summary: the higher you fly, the harder you fall

Warnings: I am once again being dramatic, fluff, heavy-ish angst (sorry), mean dad Jake, mentions of smut but nothing too explicit??

chapter five chapter seven

Chapter Six

“Lo’ak!”

A giggle bubbles up your throat, head tilting back at the gentle caress along your neck. He hums against you, arms tightening around your waist. Your chest presses firmly against his, thighs splayed on either side of his extended legs.

The two of you have been in some variation of this position, limbs tangled, mouths planting sweet kisses—for the last three weeks.

“Shouldn’t we be learning something?” You murmur, lips pulling into a traitorous grin.

Since the night you crossed the invisible line between friends and more, Lo’ak hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of you. That first press of your lips against his destroyed whatever barrier of restraint he’d built to contain his feelings. The floodgates burst open, giving way to the full force of his adoration.

It’s all-consuming. His soft touches, his feverish lips on yours, it’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

He’s eager to explore your body, to find as many ways to give you pleasure as possible. For the most part, you’ve been able to keep him focused during the day. But at night…

“Is that good, baby girl?” His voice is muffled, head wedged between your trembling thighs.

You let out a ragged breath, back bowing from the earth as his tongue swipes another tentative lick along your core. His hand snakes upward, shifting against the warm grass until his fingers entwine with yours. He pulls away, glistening lips pulling into a teasing grin, hooded eyes boring into yours heatedly.

“Need your words, narlor (beautiful).”

You whimper beneath him, knowing you’re in for a long night at the mischievous glint behind bright yellow.

“I am learning, see? I’m counting your freckles. One, two, three…” Lo’ak punctuates each number with a soft kiss along your throat.

You can’t help but burst into another fit of soft laughter, arms unwinding from around his head. Your fingers smooth along his cheeks before curling around the sides of his neck to gently guide him backward.

Your gaze briefly grazes the necklace tied loosely around his throat, hanging delicately near his collarbone. It’s crude and a bit lopsided, one of the first pieces you ever made. You presented it to him tentatively, somewhat proud but knowing even Tuk could make something better. He insisted on having it, and hasn’t taken it off in weeks.

Something hot swirls within his eyes as they search for yours. Since that night, when you first sealed your lips to his, he hasn’t once tried to hide the extent of his feelings for you. He wouldn’t be able to, even if he tried. The intensity of it sears a hole straight through his chest, making his heart squeeze in a way it never has before.

He leans forward slowly, trying to capture your lips with his, but you dodge at the last second. He groans against your cheek, peppering a gentle kiss there before leaning back, lips pulled into a pouty frown.

“We have some time.” A large hand smoothes up your back, a shiver rolling up your spine along with it. “Plus, there are so many things I want to try…”

He’s already resumed his mission, kissing every surface of your jaw and neck. You sigh against him, relaxing into his chest when your lower belly tightens. His hand doesn’t stop moving until long fingers clasp the back of your neck, guiding your mouth back to his.

“Can I—can I try something?” The question is tentative, nervous eyes glittering above yours.

Sharp teeth find your lower lip before you nod, watching as he sits on the balls of his feet. Soft grass cushions your back, the sound of tricking water lulling you into calmness. Your gaze shifts toward the sky, flitting between glowing stars, until it lurches back to Lo’ak at the feeling of something tugging on your loincloth.

“Trust me?” He blinks down at you, big eyes swimming with uncertainty.

His mouth is pursed into a thin line, brow pinched as if afraid you’ll say no. As if afraid you’ll deny him the opportunity to explore this growing connection between you.

“Always.” You nod again, a small smile splitting your mouth at the victorious grin above you.

Slowly, carefully, he unties the woven string around your hips. A ragged breath leaves trembling lips as he peels it away, revealing your softness to him for the first time. Anxiety tightens your chest, suddenly very aware that no one has seen you like this before. Your legs close, one knee bending to hide the most intimate part of yourself.

Lo’ak frowns, hands smoothing up your calves, past your knees, until long fingers wind around your thighs, gently guiding them apart. You let him, still unsure but trusting him fully.

Hooded eyes find your glistening core, lips parting to release a rough breath.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” He asks suddenly, the brazen question making your face bloom with warmth.

You’re momentarily stunned, until his heated gaze flicks up to meet yours, urging an answer from your lips.

“I…no—not in this body, no.” Your heart thrums wildly, stomach twisting with anticipation.

Something akin to pride swells within his chest. He absolutely beams, a huge grin brightening his features. His hands trail along your thighs lightly, following faint stripes until he’s gripping your hips, thumbs rubbing a gentle pattern along the dip just before where he wants to be most.

“Can my fingers be the first? Please, baby girl?”

And how could any sane woman say no to that?

You manage to pull back, resting your forehead against his as you both fight to soothe shallow breaths.

“It’s nearly lunchtime and we haven’t done anything.” The corners of your lips twitch despite the gentle scolding.

You love being like this with him, hearts beating together, limbs tangled. Just simply touching him, feeling his skin on yours, brings a deep sense of calm. It soothes your soul, makes you feel right and complete.

But the clan’s dismissal still weighs heavily on your heart. Things have improved slightly since the celebration of life several weeks ago. There’s been a definite shift in your perception with the others, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

Neytiri has carried on as normal, seemingly unaware that you heard her and Lo'ak's conversation. Her words ring in your head almost daily, the harsh sting of rejection igniting a flame of determination deep within you. Your priorities have fully shifted to the clan, to becoming one of The People. To proving her wrong.

You haven't been to the lab in weeks. At night, on the rare occasion that you aren’t with Lo’ak, you try to talk with Meg as much as possible. Even that has tapered off significantly, but honestly, it hasn't plagued you much.

You’ve found a nice rhythm in the Tsahik tent, working alongside Kiri and Mo’at. Injured clan members plop down at your station without a second thought, though you’ve noticed the way their eyes glance toward the other women first to see if they’re available.

You’ve begun training with groups of Na’vi, the children having taken to you the most. You’re sure a certain youngest Sully has something to do with their sudden fawning over you. It brings a smile to your face, the way Tuk still sticks to your side at every available opportunity.

Lo’ak remains by your side through every session, a silent encouragement at your back. Warmth blooms in your chest at being included with the rest of the clan, even if it’s only the little ones.

There was one day, in the middle of a riding lesson, when Jake called for Lo’ak. He didn’t want to leave you, face pinching with uncertainty as he asked over and over if you’d be okay for a few minutes on your own. But the incessant shout of his name only grew more pointed with each passing moment, so he had to go, promising to return as quickly as possible.

You were fine at first, leisurely guiding your pa’li (direhorse) forward with internal commands. But then a young Na’vi lost control of their animal. The beast surged forward, knocking into yours. It quickly raised onto its hind legs, wrenching you from its back. You hit the ground with a painful thud, face smooshing into the dirt with a wince.

As shaky arms struggled to peel your torso from the ground, a set of long fingers jutted toward you. Your eyes rose in question, brows instantly lifting as pure shock rolled down your spine. Neteyam had left his position teaching a few young boys how to form tsaheylu (the bond), and now he was offering a helping hand.

You took it tentatively, still unsure even as he hoisted you from the dirt with a strong tug. No more than a moment later he was gone, lingering gaze following you from his periphery. You couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at your lips as you went back to your pa’li.

“Fine.” Lo’ak’s lips push into a playful pout before claiming yours in one final searing kiss. He pulls back, a tiny smirk forming at your breathless, dazed expression. “There’s something I’ve been dying to show you anyway.”

Long fingers tap the outsides of your thighs, signaling for you to stand up. You rise to your feet slowly, giving him a questioning look. Over the last three months, you’ve learned that whatever comes after that glittering mischief in his eyes is usually something you shouldn’t be doing.

He pops to his feet excitedly, raising a hand to cup the side of his mouth. His face raises to the sky, eyes closing as he calls out loudly. The throaty sound echoes through the trees before rising toward the clouds.

His eyes open to search the air above, as if looking for something. He calls out again, then looks back to you, a huge grin splitting his lips.

“Here, get behind me.” He grips one of your elbows gently and guides you toward his back.

Confusion pinches your features, but you don't protest as he moves you a few steps to the side. You’re about to ask what the hell he’s doing, when a nearly deafening squawk comes from above.

You can’t help but duck, fingers latching onto his out of pure fear. He simply laughs, head twisting to give you a dazzling grin over his shoulder.

A moment later, his Ikran descends from the sky, only feet away. A gasp rolls up your throat, heart rate instantly doubling at the sight. Wind blows the hair from your shoulders as large wings flap to guide a smooth landing. Wide eyes dance across its skin, the brilliant blues and purples unlike anything you've ever seen before.

The huge creature huffs out a rough breath, front claws shifting in the dirt. It’s head shakes a few times, mouth opening and closing in a familiar greeting.

Lo’ak moves forward, dragging you along with the hand still clasped in yours. You’ve gone completely rigid behind him, every muscle in your body tight with apprehension.

“Tam, tam (there, there).” His voice is quiet, soothing as he slowly approaches the animal.

His free hand smooths down the Ikran’s neck, and it chitters happily. Suddenly, one of its large eyes flicks toward you, a low growl rumbling within its chest. You lurch back, though Lo'ak's frame still blocks yours protectively.

“Don’t look in his eye.” He says quickly, and you instantly avert your gaze. He tugs you forward gently, ever determined to move closer to the animal. “It's okay, come on.”

When your heels dig into the dirt, he moves to clasp both of his hands around one of yours. When you realize he's guiding it toward his Ikran, your stomach twists with panic. You pull against him, but his grip is firm.

“Wait, Lo'ak! Don't—”

Your palm touches rough skin. The Ikran shifts under the gentle pressure, and you step away, as far as Lo'ak will allow. He crowds your back, toned chest pressed firmly between your shoulders.

“It's okay.” He repeats, soothing words whispered at your ear.

You let out a ragged breath, feeling like your heart may give out at any moment. You've seen plenty of Ikran in the last three months, but never this close. They're fascinating, beautiful creatures, and were the focus of many late nights when you still lived and worked in the labs.

But now, in this new life, they've become a reminder of how far you are from being one of The People. It's a rite each member of the clan must go through, claiming their own beast before becoming an adult. A rite you will never be allowed.

The Ikran calms beneath your touch, Lo'ak's large hand dwarfing yours as he guides it along the animals side.

“See? Not so bad.” The smile on his face is evident in his playful tone, the teasing words accented with a quick kiss against your neck.

In an instant he's connected their queues, before deftly jumping on the beasts back. You can't help but gasp, stepping back as they settle into the bond. Lo'ak grins down at you, eyes glittering with warmth and that ever present mischief.

He extends a hand toward you, making your blood run cold.

“Come on, Star Girl.” Glowing yellow tells you it'll be alright, that he won't let anything happen to you. You have no choice but to believe him, despite the fear twisting your stomach.

You're hesitant, unsure as trembling fingers slide into his palm. His chest blooms with pride, with joy when you allow him to become the source of another first. It ignites something within him, something unexplainable, a possessiveness so intense it takes his breath away.

He pulls you up gently, strong arms settling you into the space he's left at his front. Your back leans into his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart as it races in time with yours. Your hips shift at the unexpected rise and fall of warm breath between your legs.

Lo'ak's thighs cage yours, pressing you firmly to the animal. Your hands explore the reins on its back, fingers lightly gliding over the woven structure.

“Hang on, baby.” He murmurs beside your ear, the low cadence of his voice only increasing your heart rate.

There's barely a split second to catch your breath before you're airborne. You can't help the squeal that escapes you, hands releasing the reins to cover your face. Fear surges up your spine as your stomach bottoms out, powerful wind slashing at your skin.

“Hold on, Y/N.” The command is stern as long fingers circle both of your wrists, jerking them back to the stability of the reins.

Your eyes pinch closed, grip tightening to the point of pain. Suddenly, the Ikran levels out, no longer flying straight up toward the clouds but rather drifting along the wind leisurely. A ragged breath of relief shudders from your lips, chest heaving with lingering anxiety.

Long lashes flutter open, breath hitching as your head swivels from side to side, taking in the beauty of Pandora from above. It's unlike anything you've ever seen before. An astonished grin splits your face, racing heart finally calming slightly.

Gentle wind fans your face, cooling the panicked heat that had crawled up your chest and neck. The treetops practically sparkle from up here, leaves glinting in the sun. A group of syaksyuk (prolemuris) swing between exposed branches, chattering and whooping.

Your head jerks upward at the call of another Ikran. It zips past you in a blur, your hands instinctively tightening at the rush of warm air left in it's wake. At that moment you realize Lo'ak is commanding his own animal to fly extremely slow, a gesture that has heat blooming in your chest.

You lean back against him, head tilting so your eyes can catch his over your shoulder.

“I'm okay.” You assure, though your voice quivers with the remnants of your earlier panic. “You can go faster.”

His brow furrows with slight worry. He doesn't want to push you, take it too far and scare you off from the whole flying experience all together. He's been itching to get you above the clouds, to watch the light of wonder flicker in your eyes as you witness his home from another angle.

So far, you haven't disappointed, the childlike amazement painted all over your face sending a flutter straight to his lower belly.

“You sure?” His gaze searches yours, looking or any lingering uncertainty. When he finds none, his lips pull into a slow, proud grin. “That's my girl.”

You twist back around to face forward, skin prickling with heat at the endearment. Every touch, every kiss has expanded the hope in your chest, the need to be his. You've never spoken about it, what this arrangement between you might mean.

There hasn't been a reason. The two of you have fallen into an easy rhythm of stolen moments in the privacy of nightfall. During the day, in front of the clan, you're strictly professional. It worries you sometimes, the way his eyes expertly turn cold, not a hint of the warmth you've gotten used to swimming in golden yellow.

But then, night comes, and you feel secure again.

Your smile widens when Lo'ak pulls up, his Ikran soaring higher in the sky. You blink against the light prickle of moisture as you pass through a group of clouds. The animal gains speed quickly, surging forward with surprising power.

Excitement swells in your chest, replacing the fear that gripped you at the beginning of the flight. One of your hands releases the reins, floating up over your head as you let out a loud yell. Lo'ak laughs behind you, chest rumbling against your back, and mirrors the movement, his call echoing yours.

Something large passes you from below, tailwind knocking Lo'ak's Ikran off balance for a split second. He easily levels out, raising from his seated position to peer down over its large head. At the same moment, another Ikran shoots upward, narrowly missing you by mere feet.

“Mawey (calm)!” Lo'ak shouts to his beast as it squawks loudly, rearing back out of surprise.

You tumble backward, spine crashing into Lo'ak's chest as your hand rips from the reins. One of his hands winds around your waist, holding you against him securely. Your eyes follow the unknown Ikran, heart in your throat, as it tucks it's wings, rolling through the clouds almost playfully.

It rights itself smoothly before leaning toward you again. Lo'ak's Ikran roars loudly, its chest rumbling between your thighs. The other Ikran hisses and snaps its jaws, flying below you once again.

“Tiftang si (stop it)!” Lo'ak growls, frustration tightening his stomach.

He's seen the Ikran do this many times before. The harmless playing isn't typically a problem when riders aren't involved. But of course the unknown Ikran has to show an interest in his while he's taking you on your first flight. Irritation claws at his chest, worry accenting the scowl marring his features.

Finally, at the sound of his shouting, the Ikran retreats, disappearing into thick clouds. Your wide, inquisitive eyes trail it the whole way, until fluffy white envelopes it’s bright colors fully. Lo’ak relaxes behind you, though his arm remains firmly wound around your stomach.

Your hands return to the reins, fingers tightly clasped to stabilize yourself throughout the rest of the flight.

A giggle rumbles your chest, cheeks blooming with heat.

Lo’ak tugs at your tail gently, and you turn, batting roaming hands away. His chin dips, lips pulling into a heart-stopping grin. Large yellow eyes twinkle with mischief as he lunges for you again.

You squeal playfully, ducking a second too late. His strong arms envelope you, and a moment later your feet leave the ground. Your head tilts back with another deep laugh as he spins you around before planting you back down at his side.

“Y/N!” The breathless shout of your name has both of you tensing, all contact gone in an instant.

Within seconds, Lo’ak’s spine is expertly straightened, hands clasped behind his back to keep them away from you.

Your heart sinks as the light fades from his eyes. Just like that, the carefree version of him it seems only you’re allowed to see is gone, replaced with a practiced mask of indifference.

A familiar figure bounds through the brush, chest heaving. Her wide eyes flick between you and Lo’ak as she staggers to a halt. Her gaze latches onto yours, a silent plea beneath shimmering yellow.

“Kiri? What’s wrong?” You take a step forward, arm outstretched, the desire to soothe her panicked state rearing strongly.

“My father. He wants to see you…right away.” She struggles to catch her breath, brows pinching with concern.

Your stomach twists. Something about the frantic look on her face is deeply unsettling. It makes your head spin with possibilities.

“Is everything okay?” A frown of confusion pulls at Lo’ak’s mouth as his questioning gaze flickers between his sister and you.

There’s an unspoken conversation happening right in front of him, the silent exchange of pointed looks instantly piquing his interest. His spine prickles with unease, wondering if the two of you have gotten into some kind of trouble without him.

“Come.” Is all she says, fingers wrapping around your wrist to practically drag you the rest of the way to Home Tree.

The journey is quick. Kiri’s long legs maintain a rushed pace, almost too fast for you to keep up. If it weren’t for the tight grip pulling you along, you would’ve been face down in the dirt long before the two of you barrel through the entrance to the Sully’s family tent.

Lo’ak is only a step behind, the quiet flap of the woven door the only sound in the otherwise silent space. Your gaze instantly finds Jake’s tense form. He’s pacing, walking back and forth with both hands resting on narrow hips.

He turns at the new presence, steely glare searing right through you. Your throat constricts at the rush of emotions he isn’t even trying to hide.

Anger. Frustration. Disappointment.

“Y/N, sit.” He gestures to one of the mats in the center of the room, before a long finger moves to point toward each of his children. “You and you, out.”

The hard, uncompromising tone of his voice makes your legs tense, instinctively ready to obey the command. Kiri’s hand leaves you as she moves toward the door, only to be replaced with a larger, warmer hold. You spare a glance at Lo’ak, catching the way his eyes search his father’s over your shoulder. His brow is furrowed, pure confusion plastered all over his face.

“Dad, what’s going on?” The question is rough, concern and a tinge of fear coating the words.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Jake’s voice drops to that low, gravelly tone reserved for the most pertinent of orders.

Lo’ak’s fingers twitch against you before hesitantly releasing. Kiri disappears through the door, hands clasped over her mouth as if horrified by what’s about to happen. Lo’ak’s gaze flits between yours and his father’s, uncertainty and worry shining behind bright yellow.

Slowly, he backs up toward the door, eyes finding yours one last time before he lets it fall closed in front of him. Kiri is long gone already, finding the inevitable fallout too much to bear, but Lo’ak, so unaware and filled with concern, tucks himself low beside the entrance.

Jake clears his throat impatiently. Your gaze tears away from the door, breath hitching at the raw intensity lying in wait. Narrowed eyes cut to you, your stomach rolling under the weight of his pinched expression.

Without hesitation, you hurry toward the closest mat, plopping down quickly. The muscles of your back are already sore from tensing so hard, but you ignore the ache and try to sit up as straight as possible.

His arm moves forward, something small flinging from his hand haphazardly. It tumbles to the floor, rolling a few times until it stops right in front of your feet.

“Where did you get that?” His tone is low, rough accusation behind the words.

You heart stops for several beats, sputtering wildly in your chest as you stare down at the object. Your mouth gapes, lungs spasming from lack of air as all functions freeze on the spot. Panic grips you, eyes widening with horror as they graze the small necklace, as if answers would appear the longer you look at it.

He’s found your neck microphone. The one that should be safely tucked away near your hammock. The last several days flick through your mind in a haze, as you desperately try to remember if you left it out. You couldn’t have, you’ve been so careful…and that meant someone was snooping through your things.

Your gaze slowly lifts, anxiety tightening your chest. When it meets his, and steely anger bores right through you, a rush of nausea brews in your stomach.

You clear a bit of hoarseness from your throat, hesitating with a wince. “A friend.”

“And what have you been telling this friend?” He’s watching you like a predator watches it’s prey, glare locked so firmly you wouldn’t be surprised if he could read your mind.

“Nothing! Nothing, I—” Your eyes pinch closed tightly for a beat as you force a breath through quivering lungs, willing your racing heart to calm. “We just…talk.”

“Have you been back to that lab?” The question is nearly rhetorical, he’s certain of the answer, but still wants to hear it from your mouth.

“Yes.” Your voice is small, barely above a whisper, chin dipping to avoid his piercing eyes.

Though it’s been clear since the beginning that Jake is a formidable force, you’ve only ever been treated fairly—kindly—by the man. You’ve never been on this side of his wrath before. At this moment, you realize, you’ve allowed yourself to be lulled into a false sense of comfort, of assurance that he’d always be gentle with you.

You’ve seen it plenty of times from a distance, this rough side of him, when he’s scolding clan members or, more likely, his two sons. But to be here, on the receiving end? It feels downright terrifying.

Silence stretches on for too long, urging your reluctant gaze to lift. You watch as his jaw clenches, hands tightening into fists at his sides before he forces them apart. A beat passes before something else clunks to the floor at your feet.

“I found your little book, too. Keeping notes on my clan? My family? My son?” Your fingers begin trembling as he addresses you in Na’vi. “Yeah, that’s right. You’ve been lying this whole time, haven’t you?”

The words echo in your head, raw panic surging through you. Wide eyes blink rapidly, chest sputtering in an attempt to keep oxygen flowing. It feels like the ground has been ripped out from under you. You’re falling, the security of every thinly veiled perception you’ve built over the last three months crumbing in an instant.

“It’s just a journal.” Your throat tightens around the words, tongue barely able to push the quiet sounds out.

Jake releases a harsh breath, one hand moving up to roughly trail down his face. It tilts up to the ceiling, eyes rolling to the sky in frustration.

“You know, I try to be respectful to Mo’at with all this Eywa crap, but at this point, I’m having a hard time believing the Great Mother really chose you.”

The insult drills through your battered chest, hallowing out the space around your heart. You curl inward, the weight of his dismissal almost too much to bear.

When no one else wanted you around, he stuck up for you. He was the first, the strongest voice in your favor. Without that, you have nothing, the stark reality of your situation making bile rise in your throat.

“Why did they send you here?” He’s practically vibrating with anger now, too distraught to remember to speak in Na’vi.

The question has you lurching to attention, back straightening as your wide gaze meets his.

“They didn’t! I swear! It—it was the storm, and the consciousness transfer. I…I never asked for any of this!” You’re well aware that you sound crazy, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re frantic with the need to make him believe you, to hear you out before he does something drastic.

“I let you into my clan. My family.” He points an accusing finger at you, face scrunching with deep disappointment. “I trusted you.”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” The promise rushes from your lips in a single breath, but he doesn’t seem phased, head shaking in refusal.

“Oh, we’re way past that. What, are they planning something?” The hard glare is back with a vengeance, a protectiveness so fierce you don’t doubt that he’d kill you on the spot if he felt you were a threat to his family.

“I—I don’t…” You’re hyperventilating at this point, every muscle in your body trembling with built up emotion. You know you aren’t making sense, but your mind is clouded with dread, thoughts moving too fast.

“Fuck. Don’t move a goddamn muscle. Got it?” Jake is suddenly moving toward the door, before you can even give a shaky nod of understanding.

Lo’ak is frozen.

The muscles between his shoulders are so tight he fears they may burst any second. His father has just stalked past him, too distracted by his own anger to see his youngest son shellshocked by the tent entrance.

Everything he knows—everything he thought he knew—about you shatters in an instant. His mind races, thoughts jumbling incoherently as he desperately tries to piece together his fathers words, your words, and their implication.

Nothing makes sense. The last three months he’s spent with you flash behind his eyes, moments he cherished only hours ago now producing a deep sense of confusion.

He staggers into the tent, breath shallow, eyes hallow as they search for you. He easily finds you, bent over on one of the woven cots, head in your hands. At the sound of quiet shuffling, you stiffen, eyes widening in surprise as they land on him.

You quickly shoot to your feet, chest heaving with emotion. He stares at you, brow furrowed, lips pursed in a firm line. His eyes glisten with turmoil, their usual bright yellow a shade darker.

“Lo’ak…” His name is a broken sound on your lips, fear and anxiety tightening your chest.

“You—” His breath hitches, trembling hand moving up to point an accusing finger in your direction. “You’ve been lying this whole time?”

Large ears flatten against your head, chin dipping with shame. The statement, mirroring his fathers words from a few moments ago, is breathless with disbelief. Your stomach twists with dread at the knowledge that he’s heard it all. There’s no way for you to talk your way out of this.

Your eyes pinch shut tightly for a brief moment, lungs quivering with the effort of containing a rising sob. This is worst case scenario, your most potent fears staring you right in the face.

Your eyes tentatively lift to meet his, vision blurred with hot moisture. “Everything between us, how I feel about you—”

During your time with Lo’ak, often while wrapped up in his arms, thoughts of your first conversation in Na’vi would dance through your mind. Never once did you imagine it going this way, plagued with the raw betrayal coating his words.

It hurts, the pain lashing at your heart so violently it sputters in your chest.

“This whole time…” The words are nothing more than a trembling whisper. His eyes leave you, flitting quickly around the tent, as if looking for solid ground to land on.

“Just, please, let me—” You take a step forward, hand reaching out, fingers barely grazing his arm before he jerks it away as if he’s been burned.

A sob wracks your chest, hot moisture spilling over long lashes. He takes serval steps back, eyes wide with confusion and alarm.

A hand moves to cradle his stomach, as if he’s feeling sick. “I…I don’t even know you.”

“I wanted to tell you! So many times, but I—” You take another step forward, the desire to be close to him burning you from the inside out.

“But you didn’t.” His voice drops, brow furrowing as his eyes glisten with welling emotion.

He blinks away hot tears, lips pursing into a firm line. As quickly as it emerged, Lo’ak’s sadness morphs to anger. He feels like a fool. He gave himself to you, bared parts of his soul never before seen by another living creature. Fragments of your conversation with his father echo in his mind, pieces of a puzzle he fears he may never solve.

Consciousness transfer…journal…lab…chosen by Eywa…

It swells in his chest, churns his stomach, the flame of something so dark, so vile igniting deep within him. His chin dips, brows falling, eyelids dropping in a way that’s downright menacing.

“What, you thought it'd be fun to mess around with the clan freak? Get some information for your little humans?” He doesn’t even sound like himself, tone so cold a shiver rolls down your spine.

Insecurity gnaws at him. Every whisper of you aren’t good enough that he’d so expertly cast aside at the way you cared for him crashes into his mind at once. He thought he could be more, with you by his side. He thought he was finally worthy of the love he’s been so desperately craving his entire life.

But it was all a lie. Every touch, every murmured word of praise…

If none of it was true, that means he was never worthy at all.

“No! God, Lo'ak, I would never—” You can’t help yourself, taking another step closer, a desperate hand reaching for him.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” He roars, and you instantly rear back, shocked.

He almost feels bad. A tiny twinge of remorse cracks through his shell of rage. Then he remembers that you’re a traitor, that nothing you’ve told him is reality. The gravity of the situation washes over him, a bucket of ice cold water to his system.

“I can’t believe you! No, what I actually can’t believe is that I ever trusted you.” A humorless laugh fills the growing space between you.

It splinters your heart, shards of desperation lodging into your stomach as you fight to stay upright.

“Lo’ak, you have to understand! Please…I—you know how the clan feels about me. You hear what they say. They say I have demon blood, that I’ll never be one of The People.”

Tears stream freely down your cheeks. Your chest heaves with the effort of keeping your breath somewhat steady. You feel lightheaded, lack of oxygen finally settling in.

You know, somewhere deep down, past all the bitter emotion swelling within him, that he can empathize with being an outsider. He’s been cast aside his entire life by the very clan he was born into. Surely, he could understand. He could try to see where you’re coming from.

“Yeah, well...maybe they’re right.” His voice is quiet, breathless. The words are like stones on his tongue, searing a hot line up his throat as he spits them.

It hits you directly in the chest, heart clenching so hard the pain ripples down your back. He glares at you with a stare so cold, so devoid of any light, any warmth. It’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. Not even after the harshest of scoldings from his father.

The supportive, gentle Lo’ak is gone, marred by your treachery. Replaced with this shell, this hardened mask of anger and betrayal. It’s ugly, spiteful, intending to cause harm. Devastation claws at your insides, ripping what remains to shreds.

You allow yourself a single moment. One shaky inhale to search his eyes. You desperately look for any sign that you can fix this, that the past three months have meant something to him.

You’re met with nothing but malice, the fire of hatred kindling behind darkened yellow. It absolutely breaks you. It tears you apart, every hope for your future incinerated with one harsh glare.

You turn, unable to withstand it for even a second longer, and run.

taglist:

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misseviehyde · 5 months

Text

BETTER ME, THAN YOU

"Well I can't believe you tracked me down. It's been such a long time since we last spoke. Please sit down and enjoy the drink my butler prepared.

Ohhh, it's too bad you got so sick just before we were ready to test the Elixir. I know it was your dream to try it - but we couldn't afford to let the delicate solution deteriorate whilst we waited for you to recover. I simply had no choice but to try it myself.

Now, I unfortunately have to have a regular supply of the Elixir in order to maintain my new body and there's just not enough for both of us I'm afraid. I already hid all of the equipment and destroyed all the remaining notes along with your grandfathers journal before leaving town. It would take you decades to piece together even the smallest bit of our research, you really are wasting your time.

Look - it isn't just a simple matter of maintaining my physical form. Everyone thinks my male alter-ego is dead and I moved to this town for good reason. I have no intention of ever turning back into that loser.

Since arriving here I've insinuated myself into the richest family in town. I read about their young daughter being kidnapped all those years ago, and knew that if I turned up and pretended to be her after all these years, I could easily replace her. I am Olivia Hyde now .

Frankly - Mrs Hyde was desperarate to believe I was her long lost daughter and any irregularities in the way I behave and act have been overlooked due to my trauma. I of course have no memory of my kidnapping all those years ago.

Awww you think I'm a bad person for impersonating a dead girl? She's probably long gone and these fools would never have found her. Better that I should have all the money and power that would have been hers. Better that it is in my hands and I be the spoiled rich girl I always should have been.

My troubled past gave me an excuse for knowing so little about makeup, hair, girls clothing. But I was a fast learner and with an unlimited supply of money I quickly spoiled myself rotten. I know it all now loser. I know how to dress like a tease and make boys do what I want. I know how to bully and manipulate people. They all think I'm so innocent but I'm the biggest bitch you'll ever meet.

That's right - I'm a spoiled evil slut just like I deserve to be. Assuming Olivia's identity is hardly the worst thing I've done. I'm a bad bad girl and bad things happen to people who get in my way.

Don't you get it simp? The Elixir made me into a fucking Goddess and the more I drink, the more perfect it makes me every day. I'm smarter, stronger and more powerful than any human deserves to be.

So what if the Elixir numbs some emotions? Who needs pity and remorse when you have a tight pussy and can suck big cock when you want? Who needs love when you can have power, money and sex.

You have no idea how good my body feels loser. Soft perfect skin, firm boobs, silky hair. I love how ultra-feminine I am. I love that I can manipulate and control anyone.

The truth is - I wanted this power all those years ago, so I took it from you. I put laxatives in your food - I ensured that it would be me to drink the Elixir not you. I remember how hard I jerked my cock thinking of taking the power from you.

But if I thought jerking off felt good - I never orgasmed so hard as that first time I transformed and became Olivia. As I felt my nails lengthen and my face change I knew that I was finally becoming the person I always should have been. As I grabbed my ass and felt my tits swell up - I knew I would do ANYTHING to keep this body.

Ohhh whoops - did you drop your drink? Are you feeling okay? You look kinda woozy.

Shhhhhh. Don't fight it.

Did you really think I'd just let you waltz in here and take all this away from me. Haha - didn't you learn anything all those years ago.

I spiked your drink again - only this time it isn't laxatives. It's just a little something to help you sleep.

Shhhhhh it will all be over soon. I'll go on living this deliciously evil life and you'll finally be at peace.

You could have had all this - but now it's mine to enjoy. I won't even think of you at all after today - but it will be satisying to know that chapter of my life is over.

Yessss, close your eyes and just... sleep.

Don't feel cheated. Before you go, you just have to accept this was always my destiny.

Better me than you...

#evie hyde #Evil bitch #Dark #tg elixir #twisted #m2f corruption

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lyomeii · 1 year

Text

the mother (or at least the one I wish to had)

➤ warnings: yandere themes, platonic relationships, gn! reader with a hint of romance in Ijekiel and jennette part.

➤ request by anon! Lucas, Athanasia, ljekiel and Jennette with a mother reader Figure?

➤ a/n: a bunch of characters that need some affection :) sorry for not uploading as often I did since I got to do a test in the weekend. But I promise to post more soon as possible and maybe one day, the debut or die short will be released this year.

LUCAS

➤ you were kinda a caretaker of him after he was told to live a lonely life. as much you take care of him with such soft hands and a smile on your lips, lucas knows how better than become accustomed to your company.

➤ traveling to another universes, lucas make sure to bring you with him. he always says that you can’t be alone in your own since you are “too careless”, but in reality he truly loves spend time with you. he adores those moments when he takes a break from everything and you prepare a picnic with him.

➤ unsurprising, lucas got used to your presence in his life and began holding your hand whatever he walks out of the tower. many began to fear he easily could destroy the world if you ever suffered a tragic end.

➤ as much he start loving seeing you as maternal figure in his life, lucas knows that you are a human unlike him. he knows that one day, you will die and leave him alone just like the others.

➤ because of that, he decided to spend as much time as possible with you in order to make memories. initially, lucas wanted to make a spell to make you immortal, but he felt that would be quite selfish of him.

ATHANAISA

➤ her mother died on her birth and father completely ignored, leaving athanasia in the hands of the maids. her plan of making the maids favor her worked of course, and her primary victim of this was you.

➤ you are quite young compared to the others maids when you first pick her out from the cradle, no older than twenty years old. firstly, anathasia didn’t to be take care of you for being so younger, yet you quickly gained her affection when you took her to see the garden.

➤ many maids who work in her palace can hear and sometimes see how much you are about the little princess. some pity how the emperor never cared about athanasia, yet they all find harmonic how you take care of the little girl.

➤ sweet moments where your first saw her talk, craw, walk and much more made you feel like a proud mother. knowing that due to your influence made her become such a bright girl is enough to give yourself a smile. you hoped that athanasia will spend her life at your side.

➤ when claude finally recognize her as his daughter, you were one of the few maids that continue to take care of her. athanasia, in order to make you happy (and gain sweeties and chocolates), calls you mom when alone with you.

➤ claude is jealous how close you are to his daughter. firstly, he attempted to make you distance of athanasia, but after seeing his little girl cry over you changed his mind and you soon become her personal maid.

IJEKIEL and JENNETE

➤ a maid, that who you are inside the alpheus household, someone who have being taking care of the two little children since they were little.

➤ both ijekiel and jennete always looked up to you as their main caretaker, none for him had a mother to take of them and since duke alpheus works so much. you are the one who stay at their side mostly of the time.

➤ jennete was the first one who saw you as a mother. maybe because she was too naively as a young child or by the fact that you always stood by her side, listening to her words careful unlike many servants who pretended to hear her.

➤ (un)fortunately, Ijekiel became obsessed with you thanked to her. hearing how much you treated jennete with such delicate conditions and the many compliments he heard from others servants made him quite curious, so ijekiel quickly went to meet you.

➤ soon both the kids began spend their days with you. the entire household see how jennete and Ijekiel are like small duckling follow you whatever you go, some find it cute seeing how the two finally have someone to take care of them, others think that you take opportunity of them to gain extra money.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere female #yandere athanasia #yandere lucas #yandere ijekiel alpheus #yandere jennette #who made me a princess x reader #yandere who made me a princess #who made me a princess

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usiel21 · 8 months

Text

In a galaxy far, far away.

The ancient-classic design of the TIE Advance X1 touched down in the clearing. Wednesday glanced out the cockpit window, to see her waiting for her, supressing a sigh, she released her crash webbing and used the force to open the cockpit hatch and leaping through it to come to a standstill in front of the craft, kicking up the dirt as her boots touched down.

The blaring presence of light was a beacon, even if blind she would find her way to it in any darkness, in any eclipse. The Sith girl's eye met that of the Jedi across from her

"Addams" Enid said, growling the name, eyes sharp.

"Sinclair" Wednesday replied neutrally.

"Fancy seeing you here" Enid said challengingly.

"I could say the same" Wednesday intoned. The Jedi began to stride forwards, her gait was strong and purposeful. Her bright blue eyes never leaving that of the Sith's colder but yellowless black.

Wednesday let out a shuddering breath of relief as Enid reached her, claiming the back of her head with a hand and bringing their lips together, crashing desperately into her with hungry need. Enid pulled back, pressing her forehead to Wednesday's, her eyes closed as she bathed in the comforting, cold embrace of Wednesday's darker force signature.

"What took you so long?" the Jedi whined out quietly, Wednesday reached up to bury her own hand in the blonde hair of the Jedi, fingers teasing across her scalp.

"I couldn't... get away" Wednesday nearly growled out in anger.

"I missed you" Enid whimpered shakily. "I always miss you" Enid's eyes opened to pierce Wednesday with a blue more shimmering and deep than Naboo's crystal waters. "I..." Wednesday began, hesitating. Her grasp on the essential emotions of the Dark side, fear, anger, hate and suffering evaporated in the presence of Enid. "...I missed you too, how disgusting" She added before aggressively claiming Enid's soft lips once more, her brow furrowed in desperate longing for the other girl. Enid pulled them apart sharply. Eyes deeper and brighter than any abyss stared at her.

"I can't do it anymore Willa, I can't keep meeting you in secret like this, I can't see you on the other side of the battlefield and pretend that I..." Enid stumbled on her words, taking a shuddering breath "...that I don't love you" She finished sorrowfully.

"You love me?" Wednesday repeated, the Dark Side found no hold in her, and screamed in anguish as it was ripped out of her grasped by a force more powerful than its own.

Enid nodded frantically, tearfully. Her smile was pained and tortured. "I know, right? A Jedi falling in love with a Sith, how pathetic is that?" Enid said with mirthless amusement. Wednesday traced her fingers along Enid's jawline with a ghost of a touch, the tips of her fingers barely making contact, the softness and delicateness of her touch had Enid fluttering her eyes shut. Wednesday traced every scar, every blemish and every mark she had ever inflicted upon Enid in the heat of battle.

"Beautiful" Wednesday could not help but whisper as she touched the girl's face. "We are both a discredit to our Orders." Wednesday said causing Enid to whimper further. "Yet I find I no longer have the desire or the need to care"

Enid opened her eyes with hope and longing towards the dark sider.

"It's always going to be you, Wends." Enid said forlornly.

"I should hate you, I should destroy you and not think twice about it, parade your body in front of the Jedi Temple..."

Enid fixed her with an intent stare that she couldn't read, her force signature was eerily calm to her.

"...and yet I cannot!" Wednesday hissed, infuriated. "You worked your way into a part of my heart I considered to be dead and buried, and yet you tore it open asunder, crawled inside the cavity and nested there and you refuse to leave." Throughout her tirade, Enid adorned a slowly growing shy, bashful smile. "No matter how much I tried" Wednesday uttered tiredly. "You haunt my every waking moment and I'm tired of denying it any longer"

Wednesday looked away in shame. Enid grabbed her by the hand gently by her fingers. "Come with me" Enid gently commanded. Wednesday looked back to see Enid's eyes shimmering with tears and a pleading that she couldn't ignore.

"You don't know..." Wednesday began, pleading with her eyes "...you don't know the power of the dark side, how it ensnares you, how it destroys you, how it enslaves you"

"Then I will free you" Enid promised. "We can just go somewhere they'll never find us, no light, no dark, I just want you to be mine"

And as Wednesday looked into the eyes of Enid, she found that the last desperate slither of the darkness that clung to her slipped away, any desire for power for power's sake died with it.

Wednesday leaned forward and pressed her lips to Enid's who tearfully gasped into it as Wednesday let her passion drive her into what she wouldn't let herself have, peace.

There is passion, yet peace.

There is Emotion, yet serenity.

There was only Enid.

#wenclair #wednesday x enid #enid x wednesday #enemies to lovers #star wars #Jedi Enid #Sith Wednesday

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beanlot · 2 years

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Imagine amab! Ellie trying to teach an inexperienced reader how to give her a blowjob 😳🥺, she wants to be careful and delicate, but reader's soft lips and doe eyes are testing her patience on not destroying reader's throat

this whole amab!au has really shed light that you’re all cumsluts.

but anyway, let me set the scene. imagine ellie is quite experienced in this scenario, she’d had her fair share, she knows what she likes and what she doesn’t - but in terms of your sexual experiences, you’ve got nothing more than relying on what porn you’re into. and ellie is highkey the biggest, most consensual softie ever; she’s gonna be vigilant on how to touch you, and even the most vanilla elements of your relationship like what cuddles are your favourite or how you like your hand being held.

but eventually, you’ll get curious; you’d felt what ellie had waiting for you when your thighs would brush against hers. hell, you’d fucking seen the imprint when she’d wear those grey joggers she knows you like and start manspreading as she’d play video games - so it’s reasonable why you can’t help feeling just a little tempted when she’s led back in her chair, controller in hand and thighs parted.

she won’t think anything of it at first, because ellie isn’t exactly a sex machine. she’s just gonna think you need a little loving, a little of her sentimental attention since she’d been adhesive to her screen for hours now. she’ll ask if you’re okay when you sit between her legs, fingers delicate to shrewd around your palm and sensual enough to slew some hair behind your ear.

but it’s when you look up at her, stroking her abdomen innocently that she’ll look at you funny. and honestly, this might be a me thing, i’m under the impression ellie would get hard easily in this circumstance. think about it, she’s never even felt an inkling of the warmth of your hand below her waist, just the mere anticipatory thought is gonna be enough to get her lewd.

babe.

what’s up with you?

but ellie’s not stupid, she knows what’s up with you. and she’s more than compliant to give you a helping hand, joggers finding themselves clinging to her knees and cock recoiling from her boxers.

and she’s considerate, at first.

but let me just - ellie’s dick would be veiny as hell, and particularly fucking intimidating to look at considering she’ll be all thick and aroused by how you look up at her like this. but she’s selfless, asking you if you want to touch it, that you don’t have to continue - but you insist, with those pristine doe eyes that she just can’t say no to.

ellie..

hm?

i don’t.. know..

and she’s always been your let me show you person, enshrouding your hand delicately with her streaked knuckles and cloaking the base of her cock with your fingers. of course, you might flinch, you didn’t expect her to be scorching hot from what you do to her; her hand guiding you up and down her erection, warmth of her palm leaving your hand when you’d gotten the hang of it.

she’s a breathy moaner, for sure. humming, sighing, jagged breaths - all that good shit to let you know you’re doing just fine whilst she strokes your cheek, occasionally dragging your bottom lip down. she won’t admit it, but she wants your opulent lips enveloped around her; when you look up at her, she can tell through the unimpeachable globes that you want just the same.

tongue out, baby.

that’s it, that’s a good girl.

you’ll start with the tip, letting her instruct you how to twirl your tongue so divinely around her - but fuck, she can’t help but daydream about what a showpiece you look like right now. on your knees, tongue caressing the head of her cock, eyes that flicker up with purity when she tells you to look at her. she’ll be satin against your tongue, a velvety smoothness that you just can’t help but wrap your lips around the tip and gently suck.

you’re made for this, i can fucking tell.

she’ll chuckle at how godly your mouth feels against her, encouraging you to take her just a little deeper when her fingers push your head down slightly, and you’ll taste the creaminess of her precum from how eager she’s getting. but realistically, it’s not gonna go super silky at first - you’re gonna make a few mistakes.

teeth, baby.

’m sorry.

that’s okay, you’re doing so good.

mmm praise kink things. ellie’s been your sweetheart, considerate and patient, up until now. she can’t help but just give in the primitive instinct when she sees her cock glisten with your spit and the little whines you emit when your head dips into her, her fingers cunning to grip at the roots of your hair when she feels her heartbeat catalysing and the throbbing of her cock.

and before you fucking know it, tears are blinding your vision when she starts to thrust into your mouth; the back of your throat assaulted with her tip along with the indecency of being used as her fleshlight. you won’t be able to move, only staying still to serve her personal needs - and after all, it’s kinda hot, tears glossing your cheeks and her hips tensing up at the mercy of cavernous pressure.

fuck, baby girl.

i’d like to think ellie’s messy as hell when she comes, eyes fluttering dreamily and forcing your head down into her with such animalism when she feels her seed spurt into your mouth. it’s bitter, whipping against your tongue as you whimper, trying to fucking swallow through how strenuous it is to breathe.

and when she looks down, her cum on your lips and your eyes glassy, she’ll apologise.

she just couldn’t help it.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us #tlou #ellie the last of us #howdoesellie

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doriloco · 2 years

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Let me love you [Thoma x Fem!Insecure!Reader]

Your body wasn’t perfect, that made you extremely self-conscious and insecure. Luckily, Thoma is always willing to remind you of your worth and how much he loves you.

A/N:

This is a smut with some plot, if you are under 18 please don't read. You may come back when you have turned 18 :)

Reader is described as chubby, insecure and self-deprecating, if these are triggers for you please read with caution.

Angst -> fluff -> smut

I wrote this because I needed some comfort.

Thoma is soft here.

Your arms are wide, not like hers; slim and aesthetic. Your belly its not flat, it is not like hers to whom any garment looks beautiful. Your legs are plump and have stretch marks, not like hers; toned and perfect. It is obvious that you are wider than the girls who wear this type of swimsuit, what were you thinking? You look in the mirror and it is as if your reflection mocks you, reminding you and highlighting each of your imperfections.

You had promised your boyfriend that you would wear the red bikini that he had so excitedly bought you for this vacation with the Kamisato siblings, and you couldn't help but feel exposed with these garments that barely covered your private parts.

And there you were in front of the mirror, judging, destroying your body with your eyes, wishing you were as beautiful as Miss Ayaka, until you heard a knock accompanied by a voice at the door.

"Y/n? Are you ready?" It was Thoma, your lovely boyfriend.

You jumped a little in surprise, you were about to open the door, but your reflection stopped you, you weren't going to receive Thoma shamelessly showing off your unattractive body, right? So you put on a beach dress to cover yourself up and answered the door. To your surprise, he had his torso exposed and a towel on his shoulder "Ready? Ayato and Ayaka are waiting for us at the beach" he said smiling, you nodded silently and left the room towards the beach.

Upon arrival, you two put your towels under a large umbrella a few meters away from the sea, that was where the Kamisato were, the most beautiful and wealthy people you had ever met. You couldn't help but feel intimidated by their presence, especially by the Shirasagi Himegimi, who was wearing a blue bikini similar to yours, but with the small difference that she looked very good in it, much better than you.

She had no extra skin.

You sat on the towel and tried to cover your legs with the dress that until that moment had given you comfort, Thoma lay down on the towel next to you and gave you a bottle of sunscreen "Can you put it on my back please?" You nodded and put some of the sunscreen in your hand to gently spread it on your cute boyfriend's perfect back, wondering how someone like him had chosen someone like you.

"Done" you said when you finished, he got up and took the bottle of sunscreen, you noticed that he had a mischievous smile on his face "Do you want me to put sunscreen on you?"

"Sure" Thoma's smile widened "okay, take off your dress"

"Nope!" you pulled the skirt down by pure instinct, which left Thoma little more than confused. "I-I mean, when we go to the sea I shall take it off" he wasn't satisfied with your answer, but he let it pass and didn't insist, he didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.

Hours passed, Ayaka and Thoma seemed to be having fun in the sea, Ayato was under the umbrella reading a book, and you were standing at the edge of the sea enjoying the feeling of the waves in your feet. Ayaka invited you several times to join them, but the fear of what Thoma and the Kamisato might think of your body was much bigger than the desire of swimming.

You watched them from afar, they looked good together; he was tall, blond and perfect, while she was short, delicate and beautiful. If someone saw them together they would say they are the ideal couple.

You weren't like her, you weren't that beautiful… So why had Thoma chosen you?

You were so immersed in your thoughts that you didn't realize that Thoma was already in front of you "you look tired, do you want to rest for a while?"

His presence took you by surprise, so you just did what you knew to do best, nodding without thinking "yes, please" he took your hand, and both of you said goodbye to the Kamisato and went back to the beach house.

You noticed that Thoma was upset about something, he looked at you out of the corner of his eye from time to time trying to read you. Once you finally reached the room, he closed the door behind him plunging you into a warm darkness and sneaked up behind you "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine"

"Are you sure? You didn't want to swim and I couldn't see your swimsuit either" he hugged you around the waist and hid his face in your neck while pouting a little.

"I’m fine, I don't think you want to see it either way" you laughed to hide your disappointment.

Thoma was more confused than ever "Why wouldn't I want to see it?"

"Well…" you let go of his embrace and turned away to avoid looking into his eyes as you searched for the words to explain it. The truth is that you had lived with that insecurity for a long time, but you had never externalized it with words. You thought that if someone found out about your complexes that person would have the key to destroy you, so you just lament and silently self-destruct yourself "it's nothing serious, don't worry" you lied.

Thoma let out a bitter sigh "don't lie Y/n, please… let me help you" he begged for your trust and you couldn't resist him.

"Why are you with me?" You asked without thinking "I'm not pretty, I'm not charismatic and... the swimsuit you bought me looks horrible" your eyes got wet.

He gently patted your shoulder to make you turn around "That's a lie, nothing you wear looks horrible on you, don't say that Y/n, you're beautiful"

"But my body is horrible"

He sat on the bed, and took your hand to pull you towards him, so that you could look him directly in the eyes "Well, I love your body"

"Don't lie, Thoma"

Thoma smiled, but this wasn't his typical sweet smile, this time it was a… playful smile. It seemed that he was taking it as a challenge "if you don't believe me, maybe I have to prove it to you" he put his hand behind your head and brought your lips to his.

It was a sweet kiss that gradually became a hungry and passionate one, your lips moved in sync with his, his hands rested on your hips desperately approaching you to his body, seeking to feel you as close as possible.

His hands traveled down your lower back to your legs, where he took the chance of gently squeezing your thighs and fiddling with the skirt of your beach dress.

He broke the kiss momentarily, taking the time to enjoy your flushed and confused expression. Slowly he raised the skirt of the dress with all the intention of taking it off "let me see how that swimsuit looks on you" he left a kiss on your plump belly.

But before it reached your hips you stopped his hands, you were trembling with fear "w-wait… what if you don't like it?" He kissed your voluminous abdomen again "I'm going to love it Y/n, I love everything you wear... although I'm at a point where I'd prefer you didn't wear anything at all" his words were driving you crazy, you just wanted to be his and make him yours, but your fears kept you on the defensive.

"Please Y/n, let me show you how much I love you" he was begging for you, he was begging for your body. He needed you.

You nodded fearfully and Thoma continued with his task of getting rid of that dress that prevented him from worshiping his earthly goddess.

A sigh accompanied by a satisfied smile appeared on his face "you are beautiful" he left a path of kisses along your soft stomach and buried his face between your breasts sighing loudly, tightening his grip on your hips as if he was afraid that you would disappear "you don't know for how long I wanted this" he managed to make you sit on him, his fingers played with the lace of the bikini top, you felt chills running down your spine and your body temperature rising.

"Am I too heavy?" You asked feeling a certain bulge in his pants. But he denied frantically approaching your lips "not at all" he kissed you again, slowly and passionately holding you tightly, his tongue slipped into your mouth from time to time starting a small fight with yours that left a thread of saliva when separated.

His lips attacked your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites from your chin to your collarbone, the feel of his lips on your bare skin sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, you wanted more and so did he.

Because of his position, his hands did not stay still, one of them held you firmly by your hip preventing you from trying to escape and with the other he began to caress one of your breasts while he continued kissing your neck with desperation and need.

Finally he untied the ribbon of the only garment that covered your breasts, leaving you bare-chested and completely at his mercy. He separated a little to be able to appreciate you, but you clumsily tried to cover your stomach and part of your chest with your arms, which the blonde did not like at all, who in a quick movement threw you on the bed and held your hands over your head, giving him the opportunity to see you and taste you with his hungry gaze.

"Don't hide from me, precious" he lowered his face to your breasts and licked one of your nipples making you tremble "you are the person I want the most'' he turned his attention to devouring you, he did wonders stimulating your nipple with his tongue and mouth while his another hand kept busy toying and massaging your other breast. You weren't used to so much physical stimulation let alone the verbal adoration you were receiving, you felt in heaven.

Your breath was getting heavier as you made an effort to keep your whimpers from being too loud "please don't hold back" . Your sweet boyfriend bit your earlobe causing you to let out a moan of surprise and pleasure that delighted him.

A shriek came from your mouth as you felt his fingers delicately caressing your voluminous and soft stomach "d-don't do that" you screeched and turned your eyes away embarrassed.

He gave you a warm kiss on the cheek "Why not?"

"It's disgusting"

"According to whom?" There was concern in his voice.

Your breathing was getting ragged, you could feel the lump in your throat "According to everyone" you swallowed hard to keep the tears from running down your flushed cheeks.

He caressed your cheek, making you turn to look at him again "Listen to me Y/n; I love you, every part of you drives me crazy, there’s nothing about you that I would change or delete, I don't care what anyone else says or thinks about you, you are beautiful, and I don't say it just because I love you, I really think you are the most beautiful woman in this world" you were silent for a few seconds, processing everything he had just said, and once again his lips met yours, but this time something was different, you felt safe, you felt that in his arms you had found a refuge, you felt loved and desired.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, untying his hair to let it fall over his shoulders so you could lose yourself in the softness of his blond hair and the warmth of his lips. Thoma took advantage of that moment to lower his hands to your plump thighs, but not before enjoying the softness of your almost naked butt. The way he squeezed and stroked here and there made you let out a moan of pure pleasure that was drowned out by his lips devouring yours.

Once again he broke the kiss, leaving you wanting for more without knowing that you would get something much better than just his hands roaming your body. He left a trail of kisses that went from your neck to your stomach taking his time to kiss and tenderly caress your belly, without being able to avoid smiling and falling in love a little more when listening to your giggles at the tickles and new sensations.

Finally he removed the last piece of clothing you had left, opened your legs and ran his lips over your thighs, leaving some marks that made him feel particularly proud. His fingers went directly to your crotch, gently stimulating that area that made you tremble.

Your whole body reacted instantly, at this point you had no shame or modesty, you let the moans come out of your mouth uncontrollably, without knowing how much they excited Thoma.

"Thoma… please" his name came out like a sigh from the depths of your soul while he did magic with his fingers.

"Do you want more princess?" he increased the speed of his touch, but it was still not enough for you.

"I want everything of you" he knew exactly what you meant and you made him the happiest man on the planet "Really?"

"Yes…please" this time you helped him get rid of his trunks, untying the string and releasing the erection he had ignored for quite some time.

You felt guilty as you took hold of his member and tried to release some of the tension from him with your hands. "Why didn't you say you needed my attention?"

"I wanted to make you feel good first" he replied between groans.

"What can I do to thank you for what you have done for me?"

Blushing, with his mind lost in you, amazed by your body and terribly needy, he kissed you once more while you gave special attention to his member "let me love you" he whispered between kisses and you accepted without saying a word.

He helped you settle into bed and positioned himself over you, placing his member at your entrance. Even though he was desperate to have you, he looked into your eyes looking for any signs of doubt or discomfort that he didn't find, and finally, he signed his pact of unconditional love by slowly entering you.

You couldn't help but complain about the size. Thoma gave you time to get used to it as he kissed the tears that ran out of your eyes, apologizing from time to time for the pain.

When you were ready, he moved, first with slow and sensual thrusts, but eventually your bodies asked for more, the rhythm of his movements was increasing as well as the volume of your moans, the pain had been left behind and now the only thing you felt was a wave of pleasure. The negative thoughts of the beach had dissipated and you couldn't think of anything else other than Thoma giving you everything he's got.

The heat of the room, the sweat of passion, the sighs of pleasure, the honeyed words and the sensual sound of skin colliding created the perfect atmosphere for both of you to lose yourselves in your own world.

He went deeper and deeper, touching points that you didn't even know existed. There was a point where he buried his face in your neck, giving up completely to pleasure, kissing you carelessly and whispering in your ear how much he loved you.

All your doubts vanished. He was crazy for you.

"Thoma…" you felt a strange feeling in your stomach "I think-"

"Do it, my princess" he kissed you awkwardly as he increased the speed of his hips to help you reach your climax, which came shortly before his.

He came out of you to come on your belly and breasts, you were a mess, lost in the moment and completely exhausted, just like him.

With the little energy you had left, you took a bath together and he insisted on washing your hair, and of course, you insisted on combing his.

The both of you ended up cuddling on the bed, him holding you close to his chest, gently stroking your hair.

"I love you Y/n, never doubt it" he gave you a last kiss on the forehead before closing his eyes and falling into exhaustion.

"I love you too, Thoma"

The next day you both got up later than agreed, but both agreed that you had never slept as well as that night.

Once again, you would have a day at the beach with the Kamisato. As usual, Thoma put on his bathing suit and stepped out of the room, giving you a chance to get dressed. (Although the night before he had already done everything. A true gentleman)

Once again you put on the red bikini that had brought you so many negative thoughts the day before. With some fear you looked in the mirror before leaving, your figure had not changed, your arms were still fat, your stomach was still big, your thighs were still voluminous. And according to you, you still had extra skin.

But before you could judge yourself, you noticed the marks of Thoma's love on your neck, chest and thighs, which made you remember the night before; the way Thoma looked at you, the loving way he touched you, how he kissed every part of your body that you hated so much, how he adored you.

You inevitably blushed.

You looked at yourself once more, but this time remembering that there was someone who really loved and really liked you.

Maybe it's about time you loved yourself too.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact thoma #thoma x reader #thoma smut #chubby reader #genshin impact smut #insecure reader

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rinbowaman · 1 year

Text

HHP SMAU Drabble - "Jealous" *One shot* Requested. Part 2 (18+MDNI)

Looking behind, you see Ethan….

‘When did he get inside here?’

Merging out from the storage closet that was in the back of the classroom, he walks out with his arms crossed. His eyes remained hidden, yet from the look of how his mouth was slightly tucked in, he was angry…..very angry.

Walking up to you, very calmly, he squares up to you with his arms still crossed. Due to the lights all being shut off, the blinds on the windows all shut, the room was dimmed….ceasing you from being able to look at his eyes, despite that he was right in front of you, looking down at you, and opening his mouth and licking the inside of his cheek at you…..

....................

“Uh-huh….quiet now…are we?” he calmly scoffs out….with absolutely no smile or smirk on his face.

You give up in trying to look in his eyes, his cap and the shadow of the dark and dimmed room made it impossible, so you turn around and ignored him.

Your mistake…

His arms wrap around your waist harshly. It nearly felt as if a python was squeezing around you, restricting your breathing. A sudden rush of force slightly lifts you and flings you to the side as your hip bone makes contact with the edge of the professor’s desk. You feel Ethan’s hard chest up against your back as his groin presses up against your rear.

And just like the delicate and chic girl you are, you wore a nice soft skirt with a matching button up short sleeve, all in lavender purple and paired it with black thigh high socks and high platform sneakers. All making you look extremely delectable to him…despite that he was angry with you.

From behind, you feel his arm remaining wrapped around your waist, while the other lifts and snaps every button of your blouse open. Once he had every button disconnected, the flimsy lace bra you had on was adjusted by the same hand.

Peeling the material back to expose your areola’s and mounds, you felt the lace material somewhat tighten at being rolled back to expose your skin, thus propping and pushing up your cleavage upwards.

With his groin up against your rear, you feel him slightly push into you, while his hand rubs and squeezes your breasts. Suddenly, you felt his lips press up against the back of your head, and he scoffs out a lengthy breath with just a tinge of his deep vocal tone carried with it.

“Stop Ethan!” you snapped.

Ignoring your words, he reaches down underneath your skirt, the material was soft and thin. He slightly rolls it up as he reaches for your matching lace panties, and just like all the other ones that you had to throw out, he destroys the pair you had on.

You feel your hips swaying from the tugging and pulling. The sound of the material shredding as he remains with his lips attached to your head. His chest grew dense against your back, causing you to lean forward and had it not been for your own hands, your face would have plummeted onto the surface of the wooden desk. Yet….that only meant that you couldn’t use your hands to push him away…since you needed to stabilize yourself. Something he knew, and so, he places all of his weight against your back, and further pushes you inward, bending forward at the hip.

“Stop!” you snapped out once more. Yet the sound of him undoing his zipper and feeding his dick out through the hold of his briefs gave you the sense that all was lost….at least for you.

Snaking it and guiding it through between your legs, the warmth of the tip drags upwards, against your soft inner thigh.

“E-Ethan stop! Please! Not here.” You started to whimper, still trapped. For every time you break contact with the surface of the desk to place your hands on his arm, trying to peel it off, you felt a sudden drop of weight from behind, causing you to jolt forward and catching yourself from fully smacking the desk by slamming your hands against the surface to prevent the fall.

Feeling the stretch of his swollen tip, he enters. It didn’t matter that you weren’t ready or that your body hadn’t had the chance to respond and produce moisture.

It didn’t’ matter….not this time.

It was painful, stingy, and unpleasant, with how he began to thrust his entire length inside you. Inch by inch, tearing you open and pushing your hips against the edge of the desk even more. Your rear cheeks being slammed by his clothed groin as he starts to pick up the pace.

“S-stop….stop pl-please!” you whimper out.

Yet he knew….that the pain was about to fade, and intense pleasure was going to hit. Not that it would make you stop begging, for every time you had intercourse with him, the pain and pleasure, were equally intense, loved and hated by you.

His thrusts grew faster, harder, and deeper. Your body starts to produce the moisture that only aided him in act. He was going in so hard and deep, that you could feel the secretion of your fluids spraying against your thigh as his shaft entering inside you would cause the dripping moisture to fly out. It all decorated the exterior of your womanhood, his jeans, and your inner thighs.

Moaning out, you could stop. The pressure, the pleasure, the knot that he was pushing into you deeper and deeper made you lose your breath. Your chest felt heavy, and he kept fucking into you as if he was pushing something to come all the way up into your throat.

You gasp, pant, and moan. You do everything but barely breathe, or able to talk. He keeps fucking, thrusting, slamming, and pulsating as he thrusts into you, forcing your cavity to remain open, stuffed, and filled with his large and lengthy muscle.

With the arm around your waist, you feel it loosen as he places both hands on your hips, with his thumbs extending and digging into your lower back. Using his fingers wrapped around you, he begins to thrust harder, while also moving your body back and forth to enhance the feeling of being pummeled by his length.

Your thighs begin to shake, your body weight goes lip on the desk, causing your breast to slide back and forth against the smooth surface as he fucks you relentlessly. Your hands can’t move, you dig your fingers in, regardless that the hard desk was flat and there was no way you could get a grip into it, yet your body was on autopilot and desperate to grab onto something…anything….

His hands roam upwards, cradling the bones of your ribcage, and that’s when he used his grip to shift your body, forcing you to arch your back and raise your chest as your rear becomes perked upwards, allowing him to slam into you harder. The tempo was fast, so fast, you don’t know how its possible that he’s able to thrust and re-enter his length in full as the hits you were taking from behind felt like it was happening ten times per second.

“You gonna be fucking nice? Hmm?” he pants out in between his groans, through gritted teeth. His thrusts pick up pace…

“Y-ye….ugh! yes!!” you moan and pant out, your eyes wincing shut and begin to tear up from the immense pleasure. It was so good, you wanted it to end.

“You gonna fucking lose that attitude?” once again, he speaks out in between low growls and gritted groans.

“ye-yes! I-ugh!-ugh!-ugh! I-I wi-will.” You completely lose your breath at this point, practically hyperventilating as you felt the impact of his thrusts speeding up once more and going in deeper…much deeper inside of you. The fluid your walls produce begin to drip down your thighs, all the way down to your thigh high socks.

“Say you’re fucking sorry!” he snaps out at you, snapping out a harsh squeeze around our ribcage as he jolts your upper body up, furthering the arch in your back as your head snaps back from his control.

“I-I’m ugh!-ugh!-ugh! I-im s-sorry! I’m sorry!”

“yeah? Fucking say it again.”

“I-‘m sorry!! Pl-please! Ethan I’m sorry!”

“Fucking scream it right now!”

“I’M SORRY!!”

His hands quickly reach around, one grabs a hold of your breast while the other wraps around your throat as he propels your face to moan out in the open. You feel the pulsating of his dick as he cums inside you….hard. Your walls react by cumming..pulsating and pound every inch of his shaft, which only enhanced the sensation for him to release his orgasm inside you…deep.

With his face buried into your neck from behind, you felt the vibration of his growls as he cums inside you. Despite his length being fully submerged into you, he still thrusted, causing your body to rock upwards as you felt your feet extending to their tip toes from his lift. His arm wraps around your waist to pull you down as he thrusted upwards, making sure that every single drop was going far in as possible inside your belly, while your back remains arched, even though you were nearly standing upright with your back fully in contact with his chest.

Limp, fucked, and tear streams decorating your face, you felt like a ragdoll with how weak you became from the immense orgasmic high that you had succumbed to. In fact, you still were feeling it, since he remained inside you, still rocking his hips into you as you feel the tip breaching parts inside that you never thought could be reached.

With his face still nuzzled into your neck, you hear and feel the vibration of his words.

“Mmm….now tell me…what was that all about?”

“…..i don’t like seeing girls touching you…” you faintly remark. Unable to coherently speak in great detail as you were nearly lightheaded from getting your brains fucked out hard for God knows how long now, all inside this empty classroom.

“Yeah? Does it make you jealous?” he asks. Almost in a teasing manner.

“Yes…”

“How adorable.”

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