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aurorawritestoescape · 1 year

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The Beast Within

Pairing: Dark!Ezra x f!reader

Genre: smut

Tw (dead dove): 18+, mdni, noncon but reader wants him and is ok with it, somnophilia, oral (f and m receiving), squirting, cum eating, tiny bit of ass play, Ezra is rough, overstimulation, pet names.

Summary: trekking the Green with his new partner, Ezra is overtaken by his need to have you. While you sleep in the camping tent, the animal within Ezra pushes him to act on his desires. Little does he know, you’ve wanted him as well.

Word count: 2k

A/n: filthy smut and nothing else. just needed to let it out after watching Prospect for the first time. Hope you enjoy<3

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Ezra wanted you the minute he heard it—your heavy panting in his ear coming through his headset shot straight to his cock. You two were new partners and had been trekking the Green for two days at that point, searching for Aurelac gems. You needed to get to the camping tent before it got dark, so you had to move faster. The warmth of your suit and non-stop walking made you overheat, and you were breathing hard. So as soon as he heard those pretty noises of yours, he knew that he was fucked. From time to time, he adjusted himself as well as he could, which was difficult in the suit, but even that was making matters worse, as any touch to his cock made it ache with need.

You were very pretty—beautiful, in fact—but your breathing right into his ear was a nail in his coffin. A couple of times, still walking forward, Ezra shut his eyes for a moment to imagine you riding his cock. Your accompaniment made it so real in his mind. At one point, you stumbled over a tree root, and your sudden breathy “Fuck!” almost made him come in his pants. The familiar animal within him had woken up and wanted you, and Ezra knew pretty well that it couldn’t be stopped. He had to get his release.

Finally, you two got to the tent and took off your heavy suits, bulky helmets, and headsets. Ezra didn’t hear your breaths as intensely as before, yet the desire had already nestled deep in his abdomen, making his cock strain in the confines of his sweatpants. Ezra and you ate and climbed on the bunks opposite each other. Exhausted from the journey, you immediately fell asleep. Ezra wasn’t that lucky. The images of your naked form huffing and puffing under him were flooding his mind.

He was about to get off in secret next to his sleeping partner, but then you sighed quietly in your sleep and turned on your side, facing him. In the dark, the contour of your slightly opened lips sent electricity to his member, and in his torturous mind, he saw those lips around his throbbing cock. The beast in him took over in a flash and sprang into action. He wasn’t a good man.

Ezra was standing in front of your sleeping body with his weeping cock in hand, just inches from your face. The human in him, albeit overtaken by the predator, questioned his actions, asking, “What the fuck are you doing?” The animal didn’t answer. He nudged your mouth with his cock and traced it with the tip. In the almost-dark he could see the precum glistening on your lips, and his whole body shivered. Ezra carefully slid his cock between your teeth, opening you up more, and a slight pain added to his pleasure. Your tongue was soft and hot, and it felt like heaven. He dropped his head back and moaned silently. He was gentle not to wake you, and when you moved your arm a little, he froze, still holding the tip in your mouth. The gods sent him a gift then. Without waking up, you glided your tongue around his bulbous head like you were dreaming about the tastiest lollipop. But the gift quickly turned into a curse as his cock twitched and a little amount of precum spilled on your tongue. That jerk, plus a salty taste, sent a signal to your brain to awaken. He saw the whites of your eyes in the dark and pulled out hastily. But you could still see him standing there with his cock out in the open.

“What... what are you doing?” you asked quietly, and your innocent tone crushed him. There was no anger, no fear, just confusion in your raspy voice.

Ezra dropped to his knees, sweatpants around his ankles, and cock rock hard, and took your face between his big hands. There were tears in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, dear. Please forgive my horrid actions; I was overpowered by the desire in my obsidian soul. I’m weak for you. So weak.” He put his head on your chest, and you could feel wetness on your skin.

Feeling a surge of sympathy, you lifted his head and looked into his puppy eyes. You saw the need and desire there, and your body quickly mirrored them.

The days you spent together added attraction to your partnership; something raw and carnal was growing in your gut, making you blush and tremble at every sweet nickname he gave you. Throughout your trek, you saw him glancing at you with his dark eyes, and the tingling sensation in your cunt morphed into a constant ache. You weren’t sure if he would reciprocate, but after getting rid of your suits, you saw the tent in his sweatpants and got excited. However, the exhaustion took over, and you could think of nothing else but sleep.

After waking up and finding him consumed with desire for you, to the extent that he would take your unconscious body, the warmth in your abdomen swelled and bloomed. The taste of him on your tongue made your mouth salivate.

“Give it to me,” you asked quietly. He furrowed his brows and stared at you with disbelief. You had to repeat yourself. “Give it to me, your cock. Fuck my mouth. I want it.”

His jaw dropped in disbelief. Still flabbergasted by your reaction to his crudeness, he was quick to oblige. He stood up and took his sweatpants off, keeping his wide and lustful eyes on you. You laid on your back, grabbed his thighs, and pulled him to yourself. Ezra obeyed and got on your bunk, placing his knees at your sides and positioning himself above your head. You lifted yourself on your elbows, reaching the hard cock in his hand. Looking up at him, you licked the tip and gave it a peck. A low rumble escaped Ezra’s chest. Then you enveloped his head with your lips and began swallowing him, swirling your tongue around. He was big, so you shifted your weight on one elbow, spat on your hand, and grabbed the base of his cock. You began bobbing your head up and down, helping with your hand where you couldn’t reach it, and twisting it rhythmically. Ezra couldn’t take his eyes off you, breathing heavily and slightly moving his hips to meet your mouth.

“My little deity. Gifting a brute like myself the warmth of your generous mouth,” his praise made you moan around his cock as your cunt clenched around nothing. You were drooling, and wet slurping sounds filled a small tent. It was hot inside, and his musk was making your head spin with desire and soaking through your underwear. The sweat on his thighs and stomach reflected dimmer light.

His hand gently cupped the side of your moving head. Then his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, collecting your drool, and he raised it to his lips to suck on it. He shut his eyes and dropped his head back. His breathing hitched, and a groan left his open mouth. Sensing that he was near the edge, you gently cupped his balls with your hand.

“Oh, shit. Oh, shit,” he murmured and choked on his words. Still working his shaft, you saw his muscles tense, his eyes shut, and warm ropes of cum began painting the insides of your mouth. His spend was salty and bitter, and you didn’t stop sucking, mixing it with your saliva, and glazing his twitching cock with your liquids. Some of it was flowing down your throat, and you swallowed it, contracting around his tip and drawing more moans out of him.

When Ezra stopped coming, he pulled out and saw you completely cock drunk—wet lips and chin, hazy eyes, and sweaty forehead. He quickly covered your body with his, and your back hit the bunk under you. His lips were on yours in a flash, his tongue breaching your lips and tasting his own seed in your whimpering mouth. Ezra’s realise didn’t calm the insatiable beast inside him as he continued groping, kneading, and rubbing your body and limbs. He was everywhere, as your hips shot up to meet his cock. He broke the kiss and looked into your eyes, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb.

“I’m tremendously grateful, my little deity. Let me repay my debt to you.” Something wild flashed in his eyes and scared you for a moment. Without waiting for your answer, Ezra sat up on his knees and peeled your sweatpants off, along with your underwear. Then he grabbed your thighs and yanked them up, placing them on his broad shoulders. You gasped, feeling cool air on your wet, naked cunt, fully exposed to his gaze. With your head on the pillow and your ass in the air, you looked up at him with widened eyes. Ezra scratched your soft inner thigh with his scruffy beard, leering at you with an animalistic grin. “Nice and tight,” he commented, and you blushed.

He didn’t make you wait for long. His mouth darted to your core, and he began kissing your folds with vigour drawing mewls out of you. With one arm holding you up, he moved the other hand to spread your cheeks with his fingers, flattened his tongue, and licked a wet stripe from your tight ring of muscle to the slick entrance reaching your hardened clit. He sucked it in hungrily and then began rubbing and almost abusing your cunt with his tongue. The animal in him was rough and careless, and your pleasure suddenly turned into painful overstimulation. You whined and tried to reach for his forearm, which held you in place. “Hurts... too much,” you managed to mumble, and he stopped for a second, but then he sucked in your clit between his teeth, nipped, and pulled it slightly. Tears glazed your eyes as you cried out in pain. It only made him chuckle. “Shhh… I shall kiss it better, sweetheart,” he cooed at you and returned his mouth back between your thighs.

His skillful tongue began devouring your cunt again, but he was much gentler that time, flicking and sucking your clit, rubbing your thighs with his calloused hands. He was eating you out like his life depended on it, slurping and swallowing your slick. You moaned and he echoed you with a low groan vibrating through your core. “I feel your cunt beating for me; you are so close, my deity. Let’s finish it off.” With those words, he shook his head, making your lips slap, and your pleasure skyrocketed; you were dripping on him, your cream covering his beard and mustache.

Soon you felt your walls contracting, and a wave of heat and ecstasy shot through your core. You cried out his name, gripping the covers and arching your back. Your legs were trembling, and your heart was beating fast. You gushed on his face, and he welcomed your juices, lapping up every last drop. Aftershocks were rippling through your body as Ezra was still holding you in place, resting his wet cheek on your inner thigh, taking in the sight of you unraveling because of him.

When you stilled, he gently lowered your ass back on the bunk and laid down next to you. You were completely spent, the exhaustion of the day coming back in full force as Ezra had squeezed the last drop of your energy. He covered you both with a sheet and draped his heavy arm over your body. He nuzzled your cheek and whispered with a triumphant smile on his face, “As I was searching for treasure, I seemed to be blindly walking alongside it all that time.” You chuckled at his elevated conclusion of the filthy sex the two of you just had. He wasn’t fazed by your reaction and continued cuddling you. “Sleep, sweetheart. I assure you, I won’t bother you again tonight.” You closed your eyes and drifted off, held by your partner, who was finally satiated.

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Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!🩵

Tags: @unfedmind @brywolf13145 @littlegreendove @pedroswife69 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @musesofthenight

#ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #prospect movie #prospect 2018 #ezra prospect smut #tw noncon

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bumblepony · 1 day

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Sneak Peek Saturday

Tagged by @jessicawhitlys and @emilylawsons. This is a little shorter than I normally do, but I'm kinda in love with it so far.

Big shout out to @sixhours for letting me play around in her universe for this one.

#tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #ezra prospect #prospect movie #prospect fanfic #ezra x Joel

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jessahmewren · 1 year

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Trial

4.6k / Ezra x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dystopian society, noncon/dubcon, rape, forced breeding, breeding kink, innocence kink, inexperienced reader, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, come play, oral (f receiving), pussy slapping, sexual slavery/bondage, brief mention of su*cidal thoughts, implied squirting, nicknames (darlin', pretty girl, sweet girl, sweetheart, etc), no use of y/n.

Summary: You are one of the last fertile women on a desolate world, subjected to an endless cycle of abuse in the name of the greater good. All of the men are nameless, faceless brutes. Until you meet Ezra.

Also on AO3

All thanks to @two-birds-alone-together for the excellent beta!

You crane your neck up to look toward the door. A tall, broad man in blue scrubs walks toward you. He is tan, his eyes a deep brown. There’s a curious white patch at the front of his hair, and it’s brushed downward, making him appear boyish. But he is no boy. He has strong shoulders and large hands…a well-defined nose. He approaches your head where you lay against the table and looks down at you.

-0-0-0-

You’re little more than breeding stock. You know that now. On this planet, to this endless parade of doctors and scientists, your entire worth has dwindled down to your fertility…what you can grow in your womb to repopulate a planet devastated by civil war.

You never thought you would long for the mining colony you’d been kidnapped from…for the hardships of your life before. You’d spent cycles in the mines without rest or food, scrabbling to make points from what you could unearth from the gas-ridden caves. But you were free. Your body was your own, until one day a routine blood test changed your life forever.

You’ve been in the same room for so many cycles you’ve lost count. You’re intimately familiar with the tiles on the ceiling, the harsh fluorescent lighting, the low couch by the window that looks comfortable, but that you’ve never been allowed to sit on. You’re strapped to a table, legs spread and cunt on display. It horrified you at first…the clinical exams, the blatant disregard for your comfort. Your cheeks burn with the memory of your first “trial.” You had kicked and screamed until they’d sedated you. You woke up sore with cum dripping out of you, no question as to what had happened.

Now they don’t bother with sedatives. You no longer fight. The punishing march of cycles has sapped your will. You’re never getting out, not unless you give them what they want. Unless your belly becomes round with new life, your life, as far as you can see, is over.

Tears are dried on your face from the last trial. It’s your fertile time, they’ve informed you, so the trials are daily now. The next man, one of the institute’s finest specimens of virility, no doubt, fucks you with a bored expression on his face. You look at the ceiling. You can feel his cock twitch after about a minute, feel his precious seed fill you to overflowing. He snarls as he comes, digging his blunt nails into your thigh.

The only mercy is that it never lasts long.

He backs up from where you are laid bare to him and puts himself away. “Did you come?” he asks perfunctorily. “The doctors say it’s more likely to take if you do.”

You say nothing. Of course you didn’t come. You never have. You were a virgin when they brought you here. You’ve never even touched yourself. Daily rape is not going to change that.

He shakes his head at your silence. You can feel his seed running out of you. A single tear tracks down your face, and you hear the door shut behind him.

A nurse comes in once a day to clean you up. It’s not enough. You have at least three trials a day, different men each time, and multiple blood tests. Your menses comes when you’re due, without fail. No pregnancy. No hope of ever escaping this hell you’re trapped in.

You’ve thought about killing yourself, but there’s no way to do it. Your arms are tied down away from your body. Your feet are secured and your legs forced apart. You’re never given sharp objects; your meals are liquid. Every cycle the sun rises and you wish again that you were dead.

It’s another early morning when you hear a soft knock at the door. That’s new, you think. No one ever knocks. They come in, use your body for tests or trials, and leave, usually without a word. If you don’t die from the abuse they are putting you through, then maybe you will die from loneliness. It would be a mercy.

Another knock on the door, and it piques your interest like nothing has in a long time. “Come in,” you say in a raspy voice. It’s been so many cycles since last you spoke, your lips can barely find the words. The door opens, and you brace yourself for what comes next.

But he is no boy. He has strong shoulders and large hands…a well-defined nose. He approaches your head where you lay against the table and looks down at you.

That also, is new. Most men who come in go straight between your legs. You almost never see them up close. Sometimes you never see them at all.

“Hi darlin’,” he says, his peculiar drawl thick and syrupy. He’s smiling down at you a little lopsided, his head cocked slightly. “Let’s get you all undone, now. Let you stretch your legs a bit.”

You blink up at him, trying to comprehend this radical change in protocol. He’s already working on the restraints binding your arms, then the large one across your middle. He moves down to your feet, and your gaze immediately finds the ceiling, expecting the worst.

Instead, he loosens those restraints as well. When he sees the reddened skin around your ankles, he tuts, taking one of your feet and gently massaging it. You say nothing, wondering if this is some sort of cruel joke. You’ve never been unrestrained during a fertile time before, not since you first arrived.

The man returns to your head. He takes one of your hands in his, thumb making little sweeps over your skin. It’s the first time someone has touched you with any sort of kindness in a long time, and tears spring to your eyes. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” he says softly. “My name’s Ezra.”

You look up at him and reflexively draw your hand away. You marvel at being able to move your arms. They’re stiff and tingly from being bound, but you relish the sensation. You whisper your name and he smiles.

“That’s beautiful darlin’,” he says pleasantly. He holds out his hand again while his other hovers near your shoulder. “Need some help sitting up?”

The first thing you do is close your legs, wincing at the pain in your atrophied muscles. Your modesty intact for the first time in a long time, you let Ezra gently pull you to a sitting position. The hospital gown covers you, finally, and you let your legs dangle over the side of the table.

You still avoid his gaze, though you can feel it burn you where it lands. You chance a glance at him and his eyes are soft, thoughtful.

“I bet a shower would do you a world of good,” he says, still congenial…still seemingly kind. You’re unused to it. It makes you immediately suspicious.

“Are you…are you a nurse?” You ask him. The only time you’ve been cleaned up (and those were hasty wipe downs with a cold basin of water) was by nurses during your scant few bathroom breaks. A shower, as unbelievable as that sounds, still feels like a trick.

He chuckles at that. “Not a nurse, sweetheart. Here to take care of you, though. Here to make you feel good.”

You frown. How could you possibly feel good in a place like this? After all that’s been done to you? You shake your head in refusal.

He sighs, leaving you sitting on the side of the table. “Let me start the shower for you, darlin’. You think you can manage by yourself?” His brow is furrowed, his eyes sympathetic. “I know it’s been a while since you stood.”

Suddenly you see the adjacent bathroom. You watch Ezra as he walks into it; you listen as the water turns on. Hot steam wafts from the open door, and you close your eyes.

Then you remember…the door to your room. It’s probably open. You can get away, or try to. This is the first time you’ve had any actual hope of escape, and you’re drunk off of it.

You bolt toward the door, but your numb legs betray you. You fall on your face, crying out, the hard floor jarring your bones. Ezra is by your side in moments.

“Ah, now,” he soothes, taking you up by your shoulders. “Can’t be running off like that. I’m trying to help ya honey. Nothing more.”

You look up at him where he holds you in his arms. He’s handsome, you think distantly, but the realization has no physical effect on you. You lost any sexual desire you had a long time ago, when these people weaponized reproductive organs as a means to an end, a tool to be used for the greater good.

Ezra helps you to your feet. His hands are big and calloused, but they’re warm. You’re not used to gentleness. It makes you wary, but you find yourself craving it all the same.

He leads you into the bathroom…stands you up by the sink. He offers you his arm, looking away as you step out of your hospital gown.

The steam feels so good on your skin; you’ve been cold for so long that your very pores starve for warmth. Ezra leaves you and you step under the hot spray. A wanton little sound of relief, the nearest sound you’ve ever made to pleasure escapes your lips, and you snap your mouth shut.

You spend the next few minutes washing your body, your hair, letting the suds run over your skin and down the drain. You clean the dried semen from your folds, scrubbing just a little too roughly. You stand there swaying under the water. You haven’t had a hot shower since your youth, since before you were sent to the mines. You huff a disbelieving laugh at how good it feels. You forget about Ezra and stay there until the water runs cold.

When you step out of the bathroom, there’s a fresh gown waiting for you on the counter. You towel off, slipping it on over your head. Feeling the cool, threadbare cotton against you just reminds you of where you are, what your purpose is, and the previous contentment from the shower, scant as it was, immediately evaporates.

You pad out of the bathroom and onto the cold tile. Your legs are still wobbly. You’re lightheaded from the hot shower, and before you know it the entire room tilts.

But you never hit the floor. Ezra catches you under the arms, sweeping you up to cradle against his chest like you weigh nothing. He murmurs something, his voice a low and pleasant rumble, but your ears are still ringing. He sits you down beside him…not on the cruel examination table, but on the couch.

You come back to yourself, and Ezra is tucking your wet hair behind your ear. He lets his hand linger by your cheek in a soft caress. You blink up at him, not understanding.

“Why am I on the couch?” you ask. Ezra looks confused, then his face transforms into a wide smile.

“Well, it seemed a mite more comfortable than where you were,” he says softly. He ducks his head, trying to catch your furtive gaze. “You feel better?”

The question catches you off guard. You do a quick, basic self-assessment and realize that you do feel a tiny bit better. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Thank you for the shower.”

Ezra preens, seemingly pleased by your gratitude. He tracks his thumb back and forth across the soft skin of your cheek, humming to himself. After a moment, he leans forward, pressing his lips to your forehead.

You instantly recoil, pressing your back to the end of the couch. He scoots forward, crowding you a bit. Your heart picks up.

“Mmm,” he hums, that low rumble coming from deep in his chest. “Y’ smell good.”

You bite your lip, refusing to meet his eyes. “I smell like hospital body wash,” you say, still trying to parse what’s actually going on.

He drags his knuckles up your bare leg, and you look at him. His eyes are dark, his strong nose scenting the air. “Wasn’t talking about the soap,” he says, grin lopsided, and then you realize.

He’s here for a trial.

You swallow hard. He’s got his arms braced on either side of you; it unfurls a strange warmth in your belly. It feels like fear…anticipation, but you’re not really afraid of him.

“If you’re gonna fuck me then just fuck me.” You look up, your mouth a firm line. “Why play all of these games?”

He tuts again, eyes bright and looking at you softly. He floats his hand down the column of your neck, settling at your shoulder.

“Such harsh words, sweet thing.” He gives your shoulder a little squeeze, and your skin burns with his touch. “I’m going to make it so good for you. You have my word.”

A little thrill goes through you, and you shiver. Without a word he pulls you to him, wrapping you up in a warm embrace. He’s speaking, but you don’t register much of it. It’s soft nonsense, words you would use to calm a frightened child or animal. You close your eyes against the white noise, and your nose catches his scent.

It’s uniquely masculine, something earthy and rich. Saliva pools in your mouth.

He holds you there for a long time, whispering soothing words into the shell of your ear. He trails his hands down your arms, smoothing the gooseflesh he finds there.

“You cold baby? You need a blanket?”

He leaves you on the couch, going to a closet and withdrawing a blanket. In all your cycles here, it’s a comfort you’ve never been offered. He wraps it around your shoulders, rubbing his hands over it like he can stoke warmth into your bones.

“Th-thanks,” you say, your teeth chattering. You realize it’s not entirely from cold.

Once you’re wrapped up, Ezra leans in again and you stiffen but do not pull away. You realize this is a foregone conclusion. Ezra is here for a trial, and nothing you do is going to change that.

He noses the skin beneath your ear, and you exhale. He presses his lips in a trail down your neck, gentle little pecks. When he reaches the fluttering pulse there, he seals his mouth over it and sucks.

You gasp softly and arch against him, feeling the warmth in your belly from before travel lower and settle between your legs. You feel your heartbeat throb in your center. That’s never happened before, and it makes you want to squeeze your thighs together to make it stop.

You reach up between you and press a hand against his chest.

“I won’t fight you,” you say. Your voice is thready and soft, and you hate how demure it sounds. “Just do what you have to do.”

He ignores you, letting his tongue wet your skin where his mouth is still sealed over your neck, then he teases it with his teeth. You tremble again, from nerves or cold you know not. “Ezra,” you whisper breathily, and he groans.

“You got me so worked up, darlin’,” he breathes against your neck. He kisses down to where your collarbone juts out of the wide neck of the hospital gown and closes his lips over it. He pulls away, observing the flush of your cheek, your shallow breath.

“Gonna take care of you,” he murmurs. “Gonna put a baby in you. Maybe two. Right here.”

You look down and he has his large hand splayed over your stomach. Your pulse quickens. Your gown is hitched up, and your legs are on display.

You shake your head. “Can’t get pregnant,” you say, “no matter what the blood tests say.” You turn your head, cheeks blooming red. “Been through many trials. Nothing’s ever worked.”

Ezra pouts, pecking at the line of your jaw. “Bet no one’s ever made you feel good though,” he says, his hand sliding from your stomach down your thigh to catch the edge of your gown. “Bet no one’s ever fingered this pretty little pussy before.”

Your mouth pops open, and he uses it as an excuse to claim your lips. His are full and soft, and your eyes slip shut. You’ve never kissed anyone before, so you have no comparison, but you like the way it makes you feel…warm, wanted. His whiskers tickle your chin. He slips his tongue in your mouth and your eyes fly open, a little noise purring deep in your throat.

He moans into the kiss, probing your mouth with his slick tongue. Tentatively you kiss him back, unsure of exactly how, so you simply touch your tongue to his and hope it’s enough.

His hand slips up your thigh and you feel a gush of liquid between your legs. You pull away, mortified, and move to stand. “I think I need to go to the bathroom,” you stammer. You feel strangely off balance. Your skin’s on fire, and there’s a steady ache between your legs.

You’ve never felt this way before. Something’s wrong…Ezra has done something to you and you don’t understand what.

Your legs are shaking, and you look down at the wet spot on the couch. “Oh no,” you murmur, face red. You feel the sudden need to hide, but there’s nowhere to go, and Ezra has both hands on your arms.

“Sit down, sweet girl.” There’s color to his cheeks, too, and you can see his hard cock tenting the front of his scrub pants. He pulls you back down and gently kisses your cheek. “It’s normal, honey,” he says sweetly. “It’s what’s ‘sposed to happen. That little pussy just needs a cock is all. It’s crying for one.”

Your core throbs, and you feel even wetter at his crass words. The dull pulsating sensation is now more urgent, sharp and unceasing. You want to touch, thinking that would make it go away, but you’re not sure how or where.

Ezra places his hand back on the inside of your leg, slowly dragging it upwards. He kisses you again, gentler this time. His hand reaches the humid juncture of your leg and pelvis, and he pets through your damp curls with the back of his hand.

“Unngh,” he moans into your mouth, then pulls away. He withdraws his hand, and his knuckles shine in the sunlight coming through the window. “Haven’t even got my hands on you properly and you’re already soaked. Kevva’s sake, girl.”

You’re trembling again, gripping Ezra’s upper arms. He slips beneath your gown once more, parting your seam with two big fingers.

“Oh shit,” he breathes, scooting up some on the couch. “You’re dripping, babygirl.” He locks eyes with you, and his are impossibly dark. “This all for me?”

You bite your lip and tell him the truth. “I don’t understand,” you say, trying to keep the tremor from your voice. “This has never happened before.”

He smiles, his eyes sparkling. “Good,” he says around a smirk. “You mean you’ve never touched this pretty thing, not once?”

He pulls your gown up, exposing your soaked cunt to the cold air. You shiver. “Kevva be damned, you’re beautiful darlin’.”

He drags through your folds with those same two fingers, groaning at the wet heat. He finds your clit, giving it an experimental little tap, then circling it with his thumb. Your legs quiver and your head falls back.

Your panting now, chest heaving, arms braced against the couch. You unconsciously widen your legs and feel yourself leak onto the cushion.

“Goddamn,” Ezra groans. “You’re unbelievable baby.” He makes another gentle circle over your clit, and you can scarcely believe the sound you make.

You can feel your body tightening. Your muscles go rigid and your toes curl. The warmth in your belly returns, spreading out to your limbs. “Ezra…,” you say, tears in your eyes. He continues his ministrations, shushing you gently. “You’re just aroused, sweet girl.” He dips into your folds, bringing more of your essence to your swollen clit. Something’s about to happen…you can feel it. Your heart beats faster…your skin feels tight. Ezra presses one of his fingers against your entrance and locks eyes with you. “Gonna give you one finger, my good girl. Just one. Give you something to clench around.”

You nod, not sure what you’re agreeing too. It’s all so much so quickly. Ezra smiles and looks down to where his finger enters your body.

You cry out, and he’s barely a knuckle deep when your walls close around him. He pumps his finger in an out, hooking it just so. You see stars. Your vision goes black at the edges, and your legs shake. He coos, laying you back onto the couch. He’s still working you through it until you start to whine, overstimulated.

He’s showering your face with kisses when he finally stops circling your clit. He withdraws his finger, giving your pussy a slap. His palm falls wetly against your folds, causing a pleasurable little sting.

You’re still catching your breath when he’s opening your thighs again. “You were so good for me, sweet girl, taking that finger. Did I hurt your little clit, rubbing it so hard?” He’s trailing his hand over your abdomen. It tickles, and the skin there quivers. You shake your head.

“Uh huh.” His hand slips down between your legs, cupping your pussy. You groan, arousal stirring again. “I’m gonna kiss it better all the same.”

He slides down the couch, kissing his way over your belly, to the top of your mound. “Ezra,” you moan, and he has to palm himself. “Ezra, please.”

He noses your curls, chin bumping against your folds. You groan louder, feeling the pressure build inside of you. He seals his lips over that tender bud and sucks.

You arch off the couch, crying out. Your heels dig into the cushions and your hands drop to his hair. He nips your clit with his teeth, stealing your breath, and still travels lower.

He looks up at you, eyes hooded. Your slick paints his mustache and patchy beard. You feel a fresh gush of it coat your thighs at the sight.

He probes your entrance with his tongue, and you twist under him. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. There’s pain in the pleasure, but you also need more. He licks a stripe up your seam, and it makes you shake. “You taste so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs against you, and the vibrations of his voice against you almost send you spiraling. “Could stay here all cycle.”

His lips return to your clit, swirling his tongue around the little bundle of nerves. Two fingers probe your entrance, and he slides them in without warning. It’s a stretch; your walls flutter around him to accommodate the intrusion. Then he starts to move.

“Goddamn pretty girl. I think you can take another.” He slides in his ring finger aside the other two after just two pumps, and you groan at the stretch.

“So full,” you murmur, already cock drunk and you haven’t even had it yet. He pumps his fingers in and out of you while eating you out, feeling your cunt tighten and clench around him.

“Gonna give me another sweet girl? One more before you take this cock?”

You find yourself nodding…anything just so he doesn’t stop. He crooks his fingers and presses into that spongey spot inside you, and you keen.

It hits you like a lightning bolt. The tension in your belly unspools, and before you can stop yourself you’re riding his face, hands clenched in his hair. You know it must hurt, but you can’t be bothered to care.

He coaxes you back down with soothing words, his soaked hand rubbing little circles on your inner thigh. “That’s my good girl,” he says to you over and over. “Gonna take this cock so well.”

When you finally come down he’s holding himself, languidly stroking your juices over his shaft.

Your eyes immediately go to the cock in his hand. It’s big…you’re not entirely sure it will fit. Your mouth goes dry as you notice the little bead of precum clinging to the tip.

“It’ll fit, darlin,” he says, reading your mind. “Gonna fill you up good. Like nobody else.”

His cock twitches, and he gives it a squeeze. “Gonna put a baby in me,” you murmur, and he smiles, cock lined up at your entrance. “That’s right, sweetheart. That’s what I said.”

The fat head of his cock breaches your entrance and you gasp. It’s a stretch, and once you’ve adjusted he eases a few inches inside you.

You both groan in unison. You can feel yourself relaxing around him, the initial twinge and stretch all but gone. It’s always hurt before. It’s never felt like this.

He’s got both elbows planted on either side of your head. He bends down to kiss you, and sinks his cock to the hilt.

You moan into the kiss. For a few moments neither of you move. His breath is coming in warm puffs. His hips are moving in little thrusts; he’s not fully fucking you yet…it’s like he’s settling in.

“Knew this pussy would take me,” he grits out. “So perfect. So tight.” He pulls out and then slams back in. It takes your breath. He finds a rhythm, pulling all the way out before thrusting back into your tight heat. His pelvis grinds against your clit. He balances on one arm, pulling up your hospital gown and exposing your chest.

You blush. He looks at you in awe, then bends and licks a stripe up your sternum. “Knew these tits would be perfect, too,” he says before taking one his mouth.

Your mouth drops open. He’s fucking you hard, and you’re so full you wonder briefly if they’ll be any room for his seed. You wrap your legs around him, the wet squelch of your bodies joining and your harsh breathing the only sounds in the room.

He pulls off your breast, a string of saliva dragging from his lips. “I’d come on these pretty titties if it wouldn’t be a waste of seed,” he stammers out. His hips are stuttering…there’s high color to his cheeks, and his hair is soaked in sweat. He flicks one of your hard nipples and it goes white at the sting. “Maybe next time.”

You clench around him at the thought of a next time. He pulls out suddenly and flips you on your belly. He slaps your thigh. “On your knees for me, sweet girl. Gonna pound you deep.” You’ve barely processed what he’s saying before he’s slipped inside you again, fucking you at a furious pace. He is hitting you deeper at this angle, you marvel, and a blooming warmth starts unfurling in your body even more rapidly than before.

Ezra reaches for your clit with his free hand, and it sends you over the edge. You soak his cock, and he groans, pulling you up and grabbing your hips in a bruising grip. A few more thrusts and he’s spilling inside you; his hot release branding your insides.

He collapses against you. You’re both breathing heavily, your body slicked in sweat. Ezra stays there for a long time, pressing sloppy kisses into your shoulder.

You feel sleepy, fucked out. Your eyes slip closed as Ezra slips out of you. He presses what seed escapes back into your loose hole, holding it inside with his fingers.

“Gonna take, pretty girl. We’re gonna populate the new world, you and me. Gonna be a regular Adam and Eve.”

You moan into the couch cushion. You’re pleasantly sore, and your mind is blissfully blank. Ezra’s fingers wiggle within, and you clench around him, trying to keep him inside.

You never wanted to help repopulate the world, you can’t help but think. But if Ezra was by your side, maybe a baby wouldn’t be so bad.

-0-0-0-

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chickenfics · 8 months

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Chapter Summary:

“Not to worry,” he said, still gentle. She kind of wanted to kick him in the shins. She also wanted to grab his hand and never let go.

“You know, just because you say that doesn't mean I won't.”

“Back when we first took this job, you said you trusted me.” He looked down at her, his eyes deep and intense, like water she could drown in. “Has your position on the matter changed since then?”

Cee looked up at him. A lot had changed since then. That had not.

“No,” she replied.

“Then I’m asking you to trust me now like you did then.”

#FINALLY sorry for the 2000 year wait #prospect #prospect fic #prospect 2018 #prospect ezra #prospect movie #prospect cee #ao3 link #fanfiction #ao3 fic

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alittlebitmanic · 8 months

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💅🏻 regarding Pedro being cast as Reed (as confirmed by my hubs today as he sent me a link showing it had been finalized apparently/ the filming beginning soon) .

Would love to hear thoughts, personally I think its a little of an odd choice for Pedro but at the same time like we dont know. He may really wanna do it. I definitely dont know what to expect but Im sure he’ll kick ass, or give it all hes got. Reed with a beard kinda resembles Pedro a teeny bit.

But part of me is wondering why he chose to pursue the role or accept it/marvel is not a great studio to work for allegedly/they shit everything out and its quantity over quality with them/im not a marvel fan tho. Im genuinely curious how itll be and if he’s gonna be a good fit. But let’s see! Again, though, not a fan of Marvel films nor them as a studio, never pictured him accepting a superhero role (superHERO lead role, Max Lord was a fun villain, not the lead HERO i wouldnt want him to get tied down to marvel forever but maybe this’ll be one and done.)

#pedro pascal #pedropascal #films #discussion #reed richards #marvel #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal story #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #tlou #thelastofus #joelmiller #dieter bravo #the bubble #prospect movie

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sketchy-rosewitch · 2 years

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A Raven and Pigeon: Ezra x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, sleep Drugs, needles, reader has scar on their nose, little angst. Happy ending tho.

Masterlist

A light shift is found in the bed. Your eyes tiredly open, you smile sadly.

“Leaving already.” You rasp, staring at the figure in the dark sitting at the edge of the bed, the stars illuminating around him.

“Unfortunately… You know I’ll be back in three cycles little pigeon.” The man gets up and begins gathering his belongings. You sigh dramatically as if that would ever change his mind about leaving.

You adjust yourself so you’re in the middle of the bed, as if the bed always hosted one person. He stares down at you, you smile. “You have it right?”

“Always.”

It sits on the bedside table, your side, the right side. A syringe filled with a sleep inducing drug. He bought it before he came here. He always does. Makes you sleep for three cycles. You’ll wake and he’ll be here, like he never left.

“Can you put it in, you know I hate doing it myself.” You slowly blink.

“Of course.”

You fold your arm over so the palm is facing up, he takes the syringe and sticks the needle in your fossa. You stare at it the entire time, watching the liquid drain out of it. He does too.

He dumps it in the trash once he’s done and crouches down at your level, caressing the side of your face with his calloused hands. You sigh dreamily.

“I love you pigeon.”

“I know raven.”

Your eyes flutter shut, you try to keep them open to get another look at the beautiful man, it’s hard. So you no longer fight it.

“I’ll see you in three cycles.”

Silence.

You look around you. It’s a bright and beautiful day. You’re sitting on a bench in the park. You wait for him. Ezra. Your love, your raven. He’s supposed to be here, you two will walk around and then get some food.

He walks towards you, the little blond hair shining in the sun, the rest of his hair highlights in the sun. You look at him lovingly and stand up, he practically runs the rest of the way, his boots lightly tapping the concrete. He lifts you and spins you around.

“Ezra! How was work?” You laugh, he kisses your scar and smiles down at you.

“Better than it has been. I got a raise!”

You give him a deep kiss. “Well I think that deserves some ice cream!”

You take his hand and you two walk down the sidewalk. Cars honk, birds chirp, but you’re only focus is Ezra. Everything Ezra. He’s a divine creature in your eyes. You’d never ever let him go.

“Ezra!” You laugh. He grazes his lips over your neck and tickles your sides as you lay on the couch. You wiggle uncontrollably and nudge him trying to tickle him back. He chuckled and pecks his lips all over your neck and face.

“My darling pigeon.” He mumbles. You hum.

“My beautiful raven.” You run your hands through his soft hair, then down his face, then to his chest. “Isn’t it nice having the week off..”

“Extraordinary… especially with you.”

“Ezra?” Your eyebrows knit together.

His body stumbles in, he falls and lets out a groan. You rush over and turn him over, his right arm is gone. You gasp. “Ezra?!”

“It’s nothing.” He mumbles. A girl walks through the door. She looks about 10-12 years younger than you.

You’re confused.

“I’m Cee.”

Ezra gets up as if nothing had happened.

Your eyes flutter open. You sigh softly and look around. “Ezra?”

The room is dimly lit, you can see him though. His arm is missing too. You gasp. “Ezra!” You scramble out of bed, and towards him. “What happened?” You sigh sadly.

“I was shot… had to be amputated pidge.”

“Is Cee here?”

Ezra furrows his brows. “Yes.. but.. how did you know about her?” His head tilts. You look down, then back up.

“I had a dream… about your arm, about her. You two came back to me.” You explain softly, your thumbs run across his cheekbones.

“I see, she’s here, but I have to tell you something.” You feel his heart pick up speed. He guides you two your bed and you two sit. “The aurulec… we found a plentiful amount! We can sell it. We’ll move off of this atrocious freighter pidge. I can find a better job. I’ll only have to be gone for a few hours instead of cycles!”

Your eyes go wide. No more sleeping, no more waiting. A reality is being made from your dreams. You stare at your raven with his blond speck of hair. “And the girl?”

“Yes, come meet her. Would you be okay with us being her guardians?” Ezra asks, guiding you towards your unused small livingroom. She sits on the couch.

“Of course.” You walk up to her and kneel down to her. You introduce yourself, she looks at you and smiles shyly.

“Your name is beautiful. Come on let’s go get some dinner.” You take her hand.

You take your clothes of and throw them in a hamper, Ezra doing the same as you, then guiding you backwards into your small bathroom connected to your bedroom. He kisses around your neck and shoulders. Then your scar.

“I missed you Ezra.”

“I missed you more little pigeon.”

You start the shower. “That would probably unfortunately be true.. you had to stay awake thinking about me. I got to dream all day and night about us being together.” You kiss his lips and step into the shower, pulling him in with you. You kiss him roughly, licking his lip, he opens his mouth. You sigh into his and he starts kissing your skin, he grabs shampoo and hands it to you to open. You do just that and squirt some into your hands and his. You scrub out the dirt and grime in his hair, he does the same to yours. You take your body wash and rub his shoulders, arm then down his stomach. It tenses lightly, you smile softly and look up at him.

He does a similar pattern, everything washes out and he feels up and down your body. You pant a little. Ezra turns you around and makes you bend down, you hold onto the wall and soap dish. Water runs down your body, he licks up your folds. Your breath shakes and you moan lightly. His hand grips your thigh and he licks roughly, hitting your clit. “Ezra.. fuck Ezra that feels so good.” You whine out. Your words encourage him to suck. Your body can’t help but back into him begging for more. It feels so good.

“Ezra… Ezra! I’m gonna cum. Fuck Ezra..”

He quickens his tongue and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You let out a whine as your body shakes.

You pant, he stands up. “Come on pigeon. I’m not done yet.” He whispers into your ear. You nod and get out, he turns off the water behind him and grabs your towel and his. You dry off and quickly make your way to your bed.

Your upper body hovers over Ezra’s, legs on either side of his hips. You grind down and mumble into his neck. He starts to pant and moan. “Pidge please.”

You smile into his neck and sit up, holding his cock he pushes up into your cunt. You cry out, a tear going down your face. It felt so good to be stretched out. You start to ride him.

He feels you up and down and moans. Everything about this was amazing. “You feel so good. So good little pidge.” Your heart swells and your cunt clenches making Ezra moan louder. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck…”

“Please cum in me.” You beg, he nods. You start riding faster, and he pushes against you. His back arches as he groans, digging his nails into you. You feel your walls being coated with cum. You continue riding, he moves his middle finger to your clit and you cry out. You legs shake and eyes again roll to the back of your head.

He pulls out and you fall gently next to him.

“Pigeon…”

“Raven..”

He takes your face and gently kisses your nose scar. You kiss his lips. “You’re here to stay.”

“Always, I never wanna leave you again.”

#ezra (prospect)#ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #cee prospect #prospect movie #prospect fanfiction #pedro pascal characters x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal

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bluestar22x · 1 year

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Fanfic List For Prospect (Ones I Enjoyed)

The birds here make different noises – Ezra and Cee: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39694086

Sunshine – Dad!Ezra: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32971666

Pink Peonies – Husband!Ezra: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30965792

Together Wing to Wing – Ezra and Cee: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29161200/chapters/71592144

Strange, marvelous words: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30144318

All farewells are sudden, reunions even more so: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29704020

After Launch: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28970826/chapters/71093985

Not Alone: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26835895

Trust: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23585638

#Prospect Movie #Prospect #Fanfiction #Prospect Fanfic #Pedro Pascal Character Fanfic #Ezra Fanfic #Cee Fanfic

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kaznejis · 6 months

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Make it Fun, don't trust anyone- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

“I can feel it.” He spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he visibly failed to prevent his thoughts from spilling, “I could sense the metal as soon as we left the building; I could sense your necklace, the rims of your sunglasses, the iron in your blood, and that ring.” His words turned to venom at the procurement of the final item, you watched as he grit his teeth; smoothing a hand over his head as his jaw clenched. Anger bloomed at the pits of your stomach in response, anger at his audacity to attempt to stake such ownership over you, “You were gone, Erik.” You spat, turning to him, anger blazing in your eyes; as reflected by the shock upon his face, “What? Did you expect me to wait around like a child? Wait for you to come back on the slim chance that it would happen?”

A/N: Hello! If anyone sees this, I hope you enjoy! If not, this is entirely self sufficing and I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. Just to note, sorry if the scenes taken from the movie seem a little..rushed? If there's one thing I do not enjoy it's working out how to incorporate existing scenes into canon compliant fanfiction. The struggle.

Word Count: 6,692 / Read it on AO3!

If you'd like to see more from me about Erik- please feel free to send in any requests! :)

The Cuban sunlight had acted as the perfect antithesis to your situation; the gaping hole that had formed and taken a residual spot within your ribcage as you knelt beside Charles, screaming and crying at the lack of feeling in his legs.

But your eyes had not been upon him.

You had stared up at Erik, stomach collapsing at his stoic gaze; only remnants of his grief were prevalent to yourself, the person that had known him most in the world. That wretched helmet had sat upon his head, his eyes empty with the melancholy of his own steadfast determination.

“Join me.” He had whispered, his lower lip trembling as his eyes finally landed upon you; the first time since you had boarded the plane to Cuba. He had reached out then, his palm splayed towards you; hope swimming in his eyes as he beckoned you forward.

You had simply shaken your head, lips tight and breaths heaving as you held his gaze. You watched as his heart broke, as his eyes glistened and bloodied hands trembled. You watched as he nodded and as he turned away from you. Turned away from the love that you had shared, choosing his own foolish endeavours of revenge over you. Allowing grief to swallow you, you had ducked your head; unable to watch as he walked away, unable to face Charles, writhing in the pain of your lovers’ actions.

That had been it- you had returned to the school. Welcoming and accepting prospective students; working as an administrator and overseeing the school’s board. It had been good, amazing- supplying a necessary distraction to the heartbreak you had endured and a chance to improve your powers, learn from the experiences of others. There, in your reluctant state of happiness, you had met Adam.

Adam, the school’s mutant psychology teacher; specialising in mind-based and largely telekinetic powers. Your curiosity regarding Erik’s powers had led you to him, sitting beside his desk; asking question after question. Questions soon turned into conversations and you soon found yourself being courted. All the traditional romances that had never crossed your mind when with Erik had become your reality; constant flowers, gifts, candle-lit dinners as your heels caressed his leg beneath the table.

Your family had loved him, adored him. They had never met Erik, for obvious reasons, and whilst they were more supportive of your mutant gene than the average family; they had hoped that you would still be able to live the average life. Meaning, that you would acquire the average husband. Your family had practically demanded that you married him despite only being a year into the relationship, the pointed remarks about you being ‘unwedded at such an age’ a constant force at each gathering.

So, you had. You had adorned the white dress, the large diamond ring, and Charles had granted his blessings by allowing you to host the wedding on the school’s grounds. Everyone and anyone that could have possibly been there had been in attendance, a day simply to forget about the wrongdoings of the past, the present and the future.

On paper, everything was perfect.

“Do you ever think about him?” Charles had asked, the night before your wedding, the two of you nursing a glass of scotch each within his office.

You had exhaled through your nose, a lodge forming at the base of your throat, “No.” Despite the pronunciation of such a small, singular word; your voice had croaked, your chest trembling pathetically.

Charles had simply nodded, his eyes flickering; his powers catching your obvious lie. “He’s in prison now, you know?”

You nodded, humming affirmatively, your gut twisting at the reminder.

“Are you sure you want to go through with tomorrow?”

“I do.” You smirked, a failed attempt at humour as Charles had only looked back at you with sympathy, “I can’t sit here and say that Erik is never on my mind but… this is for the best.”

Charles had only nodded, his face twisting as hair fell before his eyes, “He will never bother us again, I will make sure of that.”

Whilst you had thanked him, smile wide and eyes crinkling as you both raised a glass; you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach had swooped in disappointment. The way your chest had heaved with unbridled pain, simply at the thought of never seeing Erik again. You would wrestle with it for the years to come- the guilt of constantly thinking of another man as you lay beside your husband.

Your love with Erik had, to simply put it, been enigmatic; fuelled by passion- both by the mission at hand and the way you felt for each other. There had been awful, screaming fights on the worst days and entangled limbs with scratches lining his spine on the best. You had loved him with every ounce of your being, cared for him, yearned for him when he wasn’t there. Whilst you had endured the worst pains of your life with him, you had also been at your happiest.

It had been toxic, ferocious, you had never known what would come next.

You missed it every day.

You passed the feeling off as pure delusion, your mutant gene playing cruel tricks on your mind as the years passed; as you grew bored. Bored of the same mundane life every day, bored of the simple forehead kisses, bored of that house. You and Adam remained within the dark confines of the manor instead of finding a place of your own following the fallout of the war in Vietnam; acting as support for Charles, who had steadfastly begun to dwindle in both his morality and his health. You had used this as an excuse every time Adam had attempted to introduce the necessary conversation of moving on, settling down. Children. You had deflected his attempts every time, claiming that you needed to be there for Charles, that you weren’t ready, that it wasn’t the right time.

You knew for a fact that the reality lay within your inability to let Erik go, your inability to potentially miss the opportunity to catch a taste of his mere presence again. As the breadth of time since he left and the distance with Adam widened, you thought of Erik more and more. His serrating blue eyes and wicked charm haunted every moment, both awake and unconscious. You yearned for him, worried for him, hated him. You hated him for giving you up so easily, your lack of support in that specific moment signifying the end of everything, defining the status of the rest of your life. Sometimes, during the darkest of nights, the ones where you felt so alone, the nights where the wind howled and the trees drew vines and branches upon the walls- you imagined what it would have been like to join him, to have clasped his hand against yours and allowed him to lead you into the darkness.

Secretly, you knew that following Magneto would have led to your early demise, sometimes you pondered on whether that could have been a better end to your time together than your reality.

But then, as Spring turned into Summer; as the grounds of the manour flourished in their unkempt state and the sun cast illuminations through the large windows- Logan arrived at your doorstep. A mission from the future, unbelievable if not for the pure conviction in his eyes. Unbelievable if not for the grief that haunted his strong features.

You had been completely unprepared when Logan had stood from the chair you had offered him, yourself having been perched on the edge of Charles’ crumpled couch; your legs crossed and hands clasped with worry as he had detailed the horrors he had experienced, the horrors that he was there to prevent. He had paced the length of the table, surveying each resident of the room; you hadn’t missed the way his eyes had flickered between you and Adam; his forehead scrunching before his brows raised in amusement.

“Ah…he warned me about this.” He grinned, flicking a finger between the two of you and scratching at the base of his head. “Kinda weird to see actually.”

“Sorry?” You smiled politely, head swarmed with confusion, you looked over at Adam only to see he bore a similar expression, “He?”

“We need to find Magneto,” Logan spoke determinedly, his gaze fierce, his voice taking a tone of finality. He was serious, conviction overtaking the air as the gravity of the situation dawned upon each resident.

You knew that he was right.

In that moment, you had been able to do nothing but stand and promptly leave the room; abandon the sound of Charles’ manic laughter that followed Logan’s words, Hank’s doubt that tended to suffocate a room. But most notably, you were abandoning your so-called husband’s silence.

Somehow, you found yourself curled beneath your bed covers, arms crossed over your knees like a small child; your form shrunken in your fear and heartbreak and doubt, tremors racking your shoulders. As you attempted to steady your breathing, a knock sounded at your bedroom door. Expecting it to be Adam, you promptly rose from your position; scrubbing furiously at your swollen eyelids.

But to your shock, Logan entered the room.

“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” He held his hands out placantingly, slowly approaching you as if you were a timid animal, “I know you don’t know me, but I know you, Y/N, very well and… I wanted to check you were okay.”

You nodded, crossing your arms and biting your lip as you mulled over the words he had spoken since his arrival, “It’s okay… I just- haven’t heard his name outside of my own head in a while.”

“Erik?”

You smiled, your heart blooming at his real name, the name you had known him by, “Yes… I’m assuming you know about us; I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve witnessed one of our messes for yourself,” He had smiled at that, his teeth glinting as he chuffed in amusement, though you could only stare at Logan, building the courage to ask what you desperately wanted to know, “When, you know, you were sent here… was Erik there?”

“Yes.” Logan nodded.

“Was I?”

Logan nodded once again, though opted to do so silently this time.

“What did he tell you about us?”

Logan laughed properly then, a smile finally breaking across his face, “He told me not to meddle, that your situation is especially… sensitive, at this point.” He scratched a hand across his chin, his expression filled with nothing but pure mirth as he spoke, “Which I can see, seeing as though he’s locked one hundred feet underground and you’re married.” He finished that with a pointed look at your ring finger.

You nodded, that you found yourself unable to match his amusement, unsure of exactly what it was he found funny, “I haven’t seen him in almost ten years.” You shrugged, “When I try to think about it, I don’t even know what he looks like anymore.”

“But you still think about him?”

You sighed, lowering your gaze to pick at the loose threads upon your old bed sheets; you had always been reluctant to get rid of them, the memories that they held with Erik remained too precious. Slowly and timidly, you spoke, “Every day.”

Logan could only nod, an exhale sounding from his nose, “Well, if I can trust anything from my time knowing you; it’s your ability to give that man hell.”

So, the following day; with an overly-energised, overly-excited teenage mutant in tow; Hank, Charles, and Logan had embarked en route for the Pentagon.

“Stay safe.” Adam had spoken as he leaned against the entrance to the house, having opted to stay behind; claiming that the house needed to be watched despite Logan being the first visitor in years. You had simply smiled at him, waving goodbye before turning towards the car; you didn’t miss the way the door had immediately slammed, Adam having chosen to waste no time in ensuring your safe departure. He had been quiet since Logan’s arrival, especially since the mention of Erik’s name and your obvious upset in response.

You feared that despite his promise to protect the house, he would not be there upon your return.

“I can’t believe you even married that guy.” Logan had mumbled, chuckling to himself and shaking his head as he slid into the car’s driver's seat; you could only manage a meager glare- your doubt regarding Adam had been clear even to yourself.

Whilst the others performed the monumental task of attempting to free Erik; you had been tasked with organising the transport from the Pentagon and away, far away. You knew that Charles had orchestrated this purposefully, giving you the chance to see Erik as little as possible if necessary. You had accepted without a fight, you feared that if faced with Erik in a dire situation; you would act impulsively, irrationally. You feared that if faced with Erik, you would be able to do nothing but throw yourself into his arms.

“Not appropriate.” You had mumbled to yourself at the thought, tapping a hand against the car’s wheel; dark aviators high upon your nose as you awaited. Your other hand hung from the drivers-side window, a dwindling cigarette balancing lazily between your fingers; it had been a nasty habit you had picked up in your adulthood, largely to Adam’s chagrin who had banned you from doing so indoors. You began to recognise that the stress of marriage had aged you significantly; the existence of service had overtaken your life in a way you hadn’t predicted.

Just as you had begun to dwell upon your own disappointing life decisions; a loud bustle of noise exploded from the doors exiting the building’s kitchen; you only had a second to rescue your cigarette and balance it between your teeth before the group rushed to the car. Peter immediately sped ahead and claimed the passenger seat, grinning at you cheekily as he slid beside you; though this was quickly diminished when Logan slammed the car door back open, promptly gathering the teenager by the lapels of his jacket and ejecting him from the seat. You could only guffaw as he promptly plucked the cigarette from between your teeth, taking a hasty drag as the rest of the group piled into the back.

You refused to glance at the rear mirror.

“Seriously Y/N?” Charles huffed exasperatedly from what you could assume was the seat directly behind you, the rustling of his jacket prevalent as he attempted to get comfortable in the tight squeeze of seats, “This may be a getaway car but it doesn’t mean you can abuse it to your will with your smoking.”

You gritted your teeth, slamming your foot upon the pedal and pulling out onto the road; en route to the airport. Erik’s presence behind you plagued your mind, causing your fingers to tighten upon the wheel and your toes to curl within your shoes, every hair upon your neck stood ramrock straight as you waited, yearning for him to acknowledge you.

This was what you had dreamed of, every night for years, and now you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him.

A gleam caught your eyes as you drove, suddenly all too aware of your left hand rested on the steering wheel. Your wedding ring still adorned upon your finger, glistening obnoxiously in the afternoon sun. Risking a glance, you rose your eyes to the rearview mirror- only to immediately flick your eyes back to the road before you.

There, in the middle seat, sat Erik- his cheeks sunken, hollow; the effects of years in confinement were prevalent in his every feature. His skin was pale, almost ghastly; his haircut was shaggy, uncaring. But what shocked you the most, what made you pull your eyes away from the man you loved so suddenly- was the way his eyes, those hauntingly blue eyes, stared straight at you, straight at the ring upon your finger. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from squeaking in response, the taste of blood plaguing your mouth as you willed yourself to focus on the road, focus on the mission at hand.

You knew that Logan had witnessed every moment of that encounter, his dark eyes sunk into the side of your face as you determinedly stared forward, refusing to acknowledge any of the people around you. Alongside the stench of smoke, the air in the car was thick with tension- the aura of unspoken words choking every passenger. Even Peter, the usual chatterbox and the one who had spoken your ears off the entire way to the Pentagon had opted to stay silent; instead staring out of the window, his lips twisted in his own display of tension.

As you drove in silence, you became all too aware of Erik’s presence; you found yourself pinpointing his specific breaths, the crinkle of his prisoner-assigned uniform, the shuffle of his legs against the side of your seat, the nervous tap of his finger against his knuckles.

It was a miracle you managed to reach the airport.

Upon saying goodbye to Peter, you determinedly pushed past the front-row seats of the private jet, opting to sit at the very rear of the plane alongside Logan, of which had simply raised an eyebrow and sighed as you lowered yourself before him, “You two are more pathetic than I expected.” He exhibited an air of nonchalance as he lit his cigar, despite the plane now very much being in the sky, and propped open a newspaper upon his lap- though it was prevalent that he found delight in watching the entire situation unfold.

You raised your eyebrows, shrugging your shoulders stubbornly and sliding back against the base of the chair, “There’s no ‘us two’,” To which you complimented with the use of air quotes, “I am married, Logan.”

Logan could only laugh at that, shaking his head, a habit he seemed to have picked up in his exasperation at what was unfolding before him, “You do realise I’m from the future right?”

Scowling, you crossed your arms and opted to sulk at the back of the plane; still determinedly refusing to look Erik’s way- who was now engaging in a heated argument with Charles.

“Do I at least age well?”

“Of course,” Logan smirked, holding his cigar up in a toast; though he was quickly interrupted by the creaking of metal as the foundations of the plane shook; Erik. Logan jumped forward and immediately threw the two of you to the ground- acting as a human shield as the plane began to tip sideways; Erik’s passion overtaking all rational thought as plates and glassware shattered beside you.

“You abandoned us all.” He spoke with finality, Charles lay splayed across multiple seats, his hair a tangled mess as he gaped at Erik. You could only pull yourself back into your seat as Charles left for the cockpit, both you and Logan gasping at each other as you attempted to regain your stolen breath.

“So,” Logan grunted, fetching a new cigar and lighting it, “You were always an asshole then.”

You could only scoff as Erik turned, facing you for the first time since boarding the plane; you noted the way his eyes landed upon anything, anywhere but you.

“I bet we’re best buds in the future,” Erik smirked sardonically, his voice rough with the sudden severity of his outburst.

Logan hummed, puffing on his cigar before offering you a puff, to which you politely declined, “Not like me and your old friend Y/N here are.”

At the mention of your name, his hands spasmed at his sides; his fingers convulsing in a bodily reaction at the mere recognition of your existence. You would have felt excitement, love; if it weren’t for the way his eyes told a different story- cold and piercing as they landed upon you, his cheekbones twitching as he allowed himself a second of eye contact before he abruptly turned, returning to his seat across the plane.

“Jesus,” Logan mumbled to himself, reclining in his seat and widening his eyes at you; you could only nod. Jesus.

With Erik and Charles opting to keep to themselves, the rest of the journey went swimmingly- immediately upon landing you wasted no time in departing from the suffocating air of the cabin; luxuriating in the deep breaths of fresh, evening air that greeted you.

“We need to find somewhere to rest.” Charles spoke from behind you, “The drive to the next spot is too long and we’re all exhausted.” He glared pointedly at Erik then, who simply sighed; as you allowed yourself a glance at him, it was prevalent that he too was plagued by fatigue. His cheeks were more sunken than before, his eyes drooping as he visibly struggled to hold himself up. You yearned to reach out, place a hand on his spine and simply hold him, aid him as he wrestled with the weight of the world upon his back. But then, as his eyes turned towards yours, the weight of the wedding ring upon your finger prevailed once again; you could only turn away.

Hank managed to find a group of last minute rooms at a nearby motel, though as he returned to the reception's waiting area, keys in hand, his nerves were ever-prevalent. “I only managed to get three rooms; two have two beds and another has one, I was thinking-”

“I’m taking the solo room,” Logan ordered, snatching the key from Hank’s hand and sauntering down the hallway, though not without sending a wink over his shoulder at you. Bastard.

“Oh-” Hank froze, the other keys dangling from his fingers- you could only watch as he winced, practically praying for you to forgive him with his eyes, “Charles, I doubt it would be safe for you to be with Erik, so I guess…”

You could only sigh, electing every ounce of confidence you could embody before standing, cutting Hank off once again before retrieving a key from his hand, without turning you spoke, “Well, come on then, Erik.”

You felt his presence behind you, each of you electing to say nothing as you unlocked the haggard wooden door; its hinges creaking as you pushed open the door. Before you stood two double beds, an only-just-comfortable distance between the two. Nodding to yourself, you entered the room, your fingers twirling the keys nervously as you surveyed the room; you felt the air thicken as the door slammed behind you- you felt like prey finally being cornered by the predator.

Erik cleared his throat behind you, the sound thick and grating, “I’ll take the bed beside the door; would you like to use the bathroom first?”

You turned towards him, shocked by his kindness; he could only stare back at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and exhaustion tinting his features. “I- Sure.” You could only croak, opting to briskly enter the bathroom; afraid of irrationality taking over your lovesick mind. Reaching behind the shower’s curtain, you turned on the water before stripping off your clothes, the sound of your ring clattering against the sink as you placed it down caused you to flinch, knowing that Erik would be all too aware of your every move from the other side of the door.

You took your time in the shower, breathing in the warm steam and collecting yourself after the events of the day, collecting yourself in preparation for the events of the night that was to come. You could do this, even if it meant a sleepless night whilst Erik lay only feet away; whilst the object of all of your nightmares lay only feet away. It reminded you of a night, a night a long time ago; in a motel room just like the one you were in, his skin against yours; his breath hot against the base of your throat as he had slowly stripped you of your clothes, as he had kissed every inch of you. It reminded you of his pants as he pushed into you, his groans as he buried his sweat-coated forehead into the skin of your shoulder, biting and licking and sucking there as you became one. The way that he had moaned his love for you into the skin there, your responsive moans loud and uncaring as you had clawed at the skin of his back, gripped at the hair upon the base of his head-

Stop; you shut off the hot water, stumbling from the shower as you panted, your cheeks and chest red with warmth as you desperately attempted to remove the memory from your mind. Gripping the porcelain of the sink, you eyed your pathetic reflection; willing, begging, yourself to let this go, let your silly daydreams go. This was reality, your reality. Getting through the night was the only necessity you needed to accomplish, then you could avoid Erik and promptly never see him again.

You could go back to your husband, back to your life.

Undeniably however, you couldn’t ignore the way Erik made you feel, the way his mere presence made you feel. Adam’s influence upon you paled entirely in comparison, your obligation to return to him simply one of duty, one to appease your family, one to live the ‘perfect’ life- be the perfect wife. But you craved more, you craved better; for years you had chased and yearned for the way Erik’s slightest touch had made you feel- the way that his love encompassed every molecule of your being; the way that he had branded you for life, rendered unable to ever feel the way you had felt with him again. Your thoughts of Erik made you all too aware of how long you had spent in the bathroom.

How long you had spent, very obviously, avoiding him.

You emerged from the bathroom in nothing but the oversized shirt you had packed hastily to sleep in; swiping it from the bed due to the short notice you had received in regards to this trip. You felt bare, naked suddenly as you left the bathroom to Erik’s piercing gaze. He sat, fully clothed, lounging against the headrest; allowing a pen to swirl around his fingers, dancing from pointer to thumb as his wrist spun. Entrapped, you could only stand there and stare; stare at the beauty of his powers, at the beauty of him.

“It feels good,” He spoke slowly, carefully, allowing the pen to drop onto the sheets beside him, “To use my powers again; to feel metal.”

You nodded, smiling politely, unsure of exactly what to say in response. You opted to stay silent, allowing yourself to walk past him and into your own bed, the crinkle of the duvet loud in the silent room, loud within the silence that was swelling between you.

“You aren’t wearing it,” Erik spoke suddenly, his voice slicing through the silence; to your shock. Once you recovered, you simply crooked an eyebrow at him, to which he spoke; swallowing his words audibly, “Your ring.”

“Oh,” You shook your head, staring down at your empty finger, remembering that you had placed it on the sink, “I usually-”

“I can feel it.” He spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he failed to prevent his thoughts from spilling, “I could sense the metal as soon as we left the building; I could sense your necklace, the rims of your sunglasses, the iron in your blood, and that ring.”

His words turned to venom at the procurement of the final item, you watched as he grit his teeth; smoothing a hand over his head as his jaw clenched. Anger bloomed at the pits of your stomach in response, anger at his audacity to attempt to stake such ownership over you, “You were gone, Erik.” You spat, turning to him, anger blazing in your eyes; as reflected by the shock upon his face, “What? Did you expect me to wait around like a child? Wait for you to come back on the slim chance that it would happen?”

Slowly, at the pit of his lungs, he formed a laugh; his head shaking as his fingers trembled once again, “You think so lowly of me, Darling.”

“You left me!” You were yelling now, rising from the tangled bed sheets as your chest heaved with anger, heaved with the heartbreak and sadness that had plagued you for the consequent years following his departure, “You left me.”

“I gave you a choice, Y/N. You chose Charles, you were more than welcome to come with me.”

You shook your head, scoffing, “Well… if I had gone with you; I would be dead by now.” Your tone held a sense of finality, as supported by your return to the bed as you promptly turned your back to him, curling up under the duvet and refusing to face his reaction to your words. His response followed in the slam of the bathroom door as he promptly left the room; leaving behind the stale air of your own regret.

It felt like hours as you waited, wondered; hoped for him to come back. Hoped for the two of you to forget the words that had been said, to sleep comfortably in your separate beds and complete this mission as peacefully as possible; to go your separate ways and live your separate lives once again.

In the depths of these daunting thoughts, you fell asleep; the exhaustion of the day’s tensions taking hold as your eyes slipped closed. You woke, hours later, to the moon’s rays spanning throughout the room; a ghostly glow hanging in the air as you rubbed at your eyes, glancing to your side, Erik was fast asleep; his sharp edges and soft hair illuminated in the scant light- you allowed yourself a moment, just that moment, to take him in. Drink in the features you hadn’t faced in almost a decade, the features you longed to reach out towards; to trail a finger down his jaw or scratch a nail upon his hair. His hair was wavy, a slightly damp smell filtered throughout the room told you that he too had taken the opportunity to shower.

The thought of his broad shoulders and lean back illuminated by the spray of hot water did nothing to help the swarm of doubt swirling within your gut. Shaking your head, you reached into the bag beside your bed; fetching the box of cigarettes stashed within one of the inner pockets.

Then, barefoot and in just a shirt, you shouldered open the room’s door, balancing a cigarette upon your lip as you did so before promptly lighting it, traversing the motel’s corridors silently before reaching the fire escape. Hoisting yourself upwards, you climbed up the ladders before finally reaching the building’s roof. The night was clear, quiet; the only sounds emerging from the distant highway and subsequent traffic- you listened out for any signs of disruption as you lowered yourself to the roof, allowing your legs to dangle from the side of the building.

The silence of the night and the goosebumps prickling at your bare arms allowed the tears to emerge; it allowed them to pour down your cheeks, for snot to bubble at your nose and for your lips to tremble with unkempt sobs. You allowed for your hurt to take hold, for your hurt at Erik’s words and actions and simple presence to take hold. But then you allowed your hurt towards yourself to unfold; for allowing yourself to end up here, in this situation- living this life that you had manufactured for yourself.

You couldn’t go back to that motel room, but most notably you couldn’t go back home. You couldn’t bear it anymore; the stresses of being within that barron manor were becoming too much to bear. If you couldn’t be with Erik, then you would rather be alone; somewhere far away, far away from here. You stewed upon this thought for a long time, as you lit your second, third and fourth cigarettes; it prevailed.

Just as your fourth cigarette began to dwindle, the slam of a door sounded below you before hasty, alert footsteps lined the hallway. You rose, walking back towards the highest entrance of the fire exit before looking down; listening as the hurried steps continued, haggard breaths accompanying it. Opting to investigate, you lowered yourself onto the platform below before descending the stairs; entering the residential hallway of the hotel. There, at the end of the corridor stood Erik, the obvious source of the worried footsteps as his chest heaved; he was turning in place, visibly searching for something as he rushed down the hallway.

“What-” You mumbled, slowly walking towards him as he had not yet spotted you. Finally, you decided to catch his attention; concerned as to whether there was some form of danger, “Erik?” You called, a hand shielding your eyes as you peered down the dark hallway. You watched as he froze at the sound of your words, his head snapping towards you as he drank in your presence, your appearance.

“What the fuck-” He breathed, immediately shaking off his shock and advancing towards you, practically running as he reached you. Entirely unannounced, he swept you up into his arms; shaking as he lowered his head to your shoulder, practically breathing you in as he tightened his hold by the second.

“Erik, what-”

“What is your problem?” He pulled back almost as soon as it had begun, his breathing staggered as a blush covered his cheeks; he wore only the black tank top and sweatpants he had been asleep in, his hair a mess upon his head; as if he had just jumped from his bed, “I woke up and- and you were gone, your bed sheets were practically stale with how long you’ve been gone I-”

“I’m fine.” You assured, catching his hands between your own as an attempt to calm him down; the worry he had been feeling now prevalent within the staggering of his chest and the blush at his cheeks, “I just went to have a smoke I- let’s get you back to the room.”

He nodded, his glassy eyes immediately beginning to droop as he allowed you to use your grasp on his hand to pull him down the hallway. Upon depositing him into his own bed, as you left to enter your own, a tight grip latched upon your wrist; you turned, only to be met with those blue eyes swarming with desperation, “Stay?”

You sighed, nodding reluctantly before crawling in beside him; allowing him to drape an arm over your waist, allowing him to rest his head upon yours. Before your departure, before the decision would be set; you could allow yourself this one thing, this one night of unplagued sleep as his comfort would ward away the nightmares that tended to tinge your nights.

But, before you could fall asleep; Erik’s voice rumbled above you, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You could only shrug, pressing your nose to his chest as you listened to his heartbeat, “Me too, Erik.”

He moved backwards then, settling so that his face lay directly before yours; the tip of his nose rubbing against yours with each second breath. It seemed that he could only muster a whisper as he continued to speak, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His eyes grew wet as he spoke, his head shaking slightly as he smiled sadly.

“Erik.” You whispered, your voice soft with contempt as you raised a hand to his cheek; brushing away the tears that had begun to fall there. Feeling him swallow against your wrist, you could only watch as his eyes flickered downwards, just as your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip. Before you could register, he had moved; his lips pressed to yours as your cheeks grew wet with his steadily falling tears. Your mind allowed nothing else but to kiss back, to shift your leg upwards and to caress his cheek with your thumb. He kissed you earnestly, slowly; as if approaching a terrified fawn, testing the waters as to what you would allow him. You could practically taste the desperation perspiring his tongue, as you assumed he could yours. You would take anything, trade any parts of your wretched souls if it meant that you could feel this forever; feel the warmth of his tongue sliding against yours for every waking moment that remained.

Erik pulled back then, only to lower himself; his mouth hot and needy against your throat, his hands trailing patterns against the skin of your stomach; becoming exposed as your shirt had rode upwards. His ministrations rendered you only able to lay there and pant; to bask in the feeling of being needed, wanted. Truly, ferociously.

As he began to paint a trail of kisses down your stomach, something changed; something shifted in his demeanour. His hands, beginning to pull your thighs upward, were shaking and whilst his lips were forming kisses, they were forming words too. As you raised yourself to rest against your elbows, you finally heard the words forming within his mouth, “Please don’t go back to him.” He was whispering, pairing the almost unspoken words with a gentle kiss to the nearest area of skin; he was crying again, his eyes glistening with fresh, unshed tears as he burrowed his face into your skin. It seemed as if he was afraid to let you go, practically burrowing himself into your being, with the hopes that you would stay.

“Erik, Erik wait-” You spoke urgently, lowering your hand to his chin before pushing him away; he stared up at you through his glassy eyes; his hair ruffled and cheeks rosy. Confusion graced his features at first, though he soon registered the concern in your eyes and realisation visibly dawned upon him.

He removed himself from you then, moving to sit at the end of the bed; the duvet splayed around his waist as he sat with his legs crossed. He seemed to take a moment to compose himself, wiping at his mouth and running a finger over his teary eyes, “I’m sorry Y/N, I- it’s not my place to tell you what to do.”

Instantly, you crawled towards him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and settling yourself into the space between his legs; you felt his cheeks crinkle as you pressed kiss after kiss to his face, but you could still sense his confusion, his doubt. “I knew I would be leaving him the moment Logan mentioned your name, whether you were coming with me or not.” You stroked his hair as you spoke, caressing your fingers through the thin tendrils of oaky brown hair that adorned your lover's head. Erik grinned then; his teeth shining as he practically mooned up at you, he kissed you again then; pulling you in and deeper into his lap.

Before you could push him onto his back, before you could lower yourself upon him and mobilise the groans that would fall from his mouth; he abruptly straightened up, untwining his hand from beneath your shirt and raising it in the air- your wedding ring flew towards the two of you, hanging in the air before Erik made a flicking motion with his fingers; you could only gape as the ring flew through the open window and into the darkness of the night.

“Erik!” You squealed, hitting at his chest as he laughed loudly, unabashedly. Despite being secretly pleased, you couldn’t allow him to know that. “That was expensive!”

“I can find you better,” Erik grumbled against your chest, burrowing his head into your shirt and inhaling unashamedly, “That one wasn’t you anyway, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that ghastly thing on your finger.”

The only response you could have mustered in that moment was to shove him back against the bed; silencing him with the warmth of your own mouth.

#this goes out to the 3 magneto fans that exist #magneto x reader #erik lehnsherr #x men #days of future past #michael fassbender #magneto #erik lehnsherr x y/n #erik lehnsherr x you #marvel #writing x men fic is so funny cause these people old af....LOL #erik lehnsherr x reader #erik lensherr x reader #erik lensherr

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olivialau · 3 months

Text

Shadow's Embrace Ch.6

Sukuna x Reader

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fanfiction based on the universe of "Jujutsu Kaisen," created by Gege Akutami. The original manga, anime, and characters belong to their respective owners and creators.

Notes:

This story unfolds in the Jujutsu world, set in a slightly altered universe where Sukuna inhabits his own vessel distinct from Itadori Yuji's body, making him a separate entity.

Summary:

Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, becomes fascinated with a female sorcerer rich in potential but lacking control. Initially seizing her for his destructive plans, Sukuna aims to bind her abilities through a contract. Yet, as he tries to dominate her, he finds himself intrigued by her strength and determination. Over time, his interest evolves from strategic advantage to a deeper, personal connection.

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CHAPTER 6 - Cinematic Chaos

Jolted awake by the deafening sound of explosions and bangs, you found yourself back in the dimly lit basement. Adrenaline surged through your veins as you quickly assessed your surroundings, trying to make sense of the situation.

Your gaze landed on a large television screen that hadn't been there before, the apparent source of the blatant noise.

And there, lounging casually on the worn, tattered sofa, was Sukuna himself, hands behind his head as he watched a violent battle unfolding on the screen.

You blinked in confusion, the surreal scene making you question your sanity. The mighty King of Curses, embodiment of malevolence and destruction, was leisurely enjoying what seemed to be an action movie.

As you attempted to get up, a wave of dizziness swept over you, blurring your vision and causing your head to spin. Without turning to face you, Sukuna spoke, with a casual- almost bored tone of voice.

"Go ahead," he dared, his eyes still fixated on the sceen. "Try to stand. Half your blood decorates the floor above, you'll collapse straight away." Though you couldn't see his face, you could sense the smirk forming on his lips.

Reluctantly, you heeded his advice, as you sank back down onto the mattress, your limbs trembling with the effort. Sukuna's nonchalant demeanor, coupled with the state you were in, made you feel vulnerable. You couldn't fight back now, even if you wanted to.

You glared at Sukuna, but he seemed entirely oblivious to your presence, his attention fixed solely on the film.

Glancing to your side, you noticed a fresh bottle of water and a shiny red apple, a small gesture that did little to alleviate the sense of dread and discomfort.

The deafening noise of machine gun fire from the TV only served to exacerbate your unease. The ringing in your ears a constant reminder of the brutal treatment you had endured at Sukuna's hands. Unable to bear the assault on your senses, you hissed, "Shit, can you turn that down?"

At the sound of your voice, Sukuna moved to face you, a mocking grin spreading across his features. His voice darkened as he blatantly refused your request with a stern. "No."

His utter disregard for your wellbeing was infuriating, you truly hated his guts.

As you watched Sukuna casually lounging with his legs raised, engrossed in the violent action, you couldn't help but wonder again. Why would the mighty King of Curses be indulging in such a mundane activity.

It seemed so at odds with the image you had of him – a being constantly consumed by dark ambitions, conjuring up evil plots and reveling in the suffering of others. The thought of him simply passing the time by watching a movie was almost inconceivable.

You considered asking him about it, your curiosity piqued by this unexpected behavior. However, the sheer exhaustion and weakness you felt, both physically and mentally, made the prospect of engaging him in any sort of debate or discussion seem daunting, if not outright dangerous.

The last thing you wanted to do was inadvertently anger him, potentially leading to a new assault on your worn-down body.

Lacking the energy to confront Sukuna further, you closed your eyes. The explosions and gunfire faded into the background, your mind drifting to a memory from weeks earlier, before attending Jujutsu High.

3 Weeks before enrolling in Jujutsu High

"We have to watch movies...? For real?" you asked, your voice laced with surprise as you looked at the young man beside you, who shared a similar expression of bewilderment.

The boy, with his messy pink hair and determined light brown eyes, shrugged, clearly as baffled by Gojo's instructions as you were.

Suddenly, Gojo sprang up between the two of you, brandishing a pair of puppets that resembled bears with comical boxing gloves on their paws.

"Ta-da!" Gojo exclaimed, his enthusiasm visible as he presented the peculiar puppets, which he explained to be cursed corpses.

"The goal here is to maintain a steady flow of cursed energy while watching various movies," Gojo said, his voice brimming with a playful energy. "If your emotions cause your cursed energy to spike or drop... these little guys will react accordingly."

He gestured to the bear-like puppets in his hands, their boxing gloves a testament to the consequence of losing control.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Gojo continued, "It's a bit unconventional, but trust me, it's the quickest way to master this."

As he finished explaining the exercise, he tossed a puppet to each of you. Still bewildered and unprepared, your cursed energy fluctuated, causing the puppets to smack you in the faces.

"Well then, I'm off!" he declared with a nonchalant wave of his hand, rushing toward the door and leaving you both in stunned silence.

As the door slammed shut, the boy turned to you with a beaming smile, extending his hand. "I'm Itadori Yuji," he introduced himself. His carefree attitude reminded you of Ayumi, causing a slight pang in your heart.

You sat down next to your future classmate, Itadori, and together you began shuffling through the selection of movies, choosing a comedy to start off with.

At first, the two of you were met with repeated smacks from the bear-like puppets, the chaotic and painful experience eliciting a mix of laughter and frustration between you. It was a shared struggle, and in those moments, you felt a sense of camaraderie with Itadori.

However, as time passed, you noticed that Itadori began to improve slowly, his ability to regulate his cursed energy becoming more and more refined. The contrast between his progress and your own lack thereof began to weigh heavily on you.

An old wound, one of guilt and helplessness, started resurfacing as you found yourself unable to master even this seemingly simple exercise. You had always felt a step behind, constantly striving to catch up to those around you, who seemed so naturally adept at wielding their cursed energy.

After what felt like an eternity of repeated failures and painful strikes, the door to the room suddenly burst open, and Gojo Satoru strode back in.

It was clear that he'd noticed the stark contrast between yours and Itadori's progress. However, he seemed to ignore the disparity, instead commending both of you for your hard work and dedication.

As Gojo dismissed Itadori, he placed a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with a certain intensity. "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with you for a moment,"

Being left alone with Gojo made you feel nervous. Worries started to flood your mind. Maybe he'd send you away back to that old, dreadfully boring life.

As he turned his attention towards you, he instructed "Go ahead and show me how you pour energy into the doll,"

Holding the bear-like puppet out in front of you, you once more attempted to channel a steady flow of cursed energy into it. But just as before, the doll reacted with a resounding smack, striking you squarely in the face.

Wincing at the impact, you looked up at Gojo, defeat etched across your features.

Yet, to your surprise, Gojo's expression was one of genuine fascination. "That's amazing," he declared, a wide grin spreading across his face. "That thing you're doing with your cursed energy – it's quite impressive. Though a bit scary, too..." He chuckled.

As you looked at Gojo questioningly, baffled by his excitement over your apparent failure, the white-haired sorcerer leaned in, his mouth close to your ear.

"You know," he whispered, his voice low and determined, "you have the potential to become one of the greatest sorcerers out there."

The words had left you utterly confused. How could he possibly say that when you were clearly struggling with such a basic exercise?

You searched Gojo's face, hoping to find some explanation for his cryptic praise, but the sorcerer had maintained an air of mystery.

---------------------------------------------------------

Replaying the situation in your mind now, to try and make sense of Gojo's words, you couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration. What was it that he had noticed about your cursed energy that you had failed to see yourself?

Then suddenly, the sound of another loud blast jolted you back to the present, your eyes snapping open to the sight of a massive explosion on the screen. Sukuna seemed to smirk, his eyes gleaming with delight.

Sensing your gaze upon him, he suddenly regarded you, breaking the icy silence. "You know why I enjoy watching movies like this, brat?" He asked, with a sinister edge to his voice.

Peeved at being addressed as a brat once more, you mustered a mocking retort. "I'm guessing it's the cries of anguish you enjoy."

"Well, that is a welcome bonus, I must admit," Sukuna replied, a playful smile spreading across his features. "The pitiful looks on their faces as they scream are hilarious." He leaned back, clearly relishing the thought.

You raised an eyebrow, confused by Sukuna's sudden willingness to engage in conversation. His tone then shifted, becoming morr ominous.

"Greed, fear, revenge, love," he mused, "These movies unveil the true nature of humans—pathetic insects trapped in endless, repeating cycles, unable to break free."

Sukuna paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. Then, with a menacing edge, he added, "Their predictability is my greatest weapon. It allows me to anticipate their every move and bend them to my will."

His arrogant dismissal of humanity, his perception of humans as nothing more than pathetic insects to be toyed with, ignited a familiar fire within you.

A fire that compelled you to challenge his words. "Isn't your own need for power and domination a similar weakness and predictability then?" You retorted.

"You claim to see the flaws in human nature, yet you seem driven by your own insatiable greed and desire for control."

Sukuna's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you wondered if you had overstepped your bounds. But to your surprise, he let out a deep, rumbling chuckle.

"Oh, little sorcerer, you truly don't understand," he purred, his voice dripping with condescension. "It's not like that at all. I'm not driven by ideals or some grand ambition. I'm simply led by my instincts, doing whatever I want, whenever I want."

As Sukuna's words sank in, you couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for the man before you. His complete disregard for anything beyond his own fleeting pleasures and impulses struck you as a profoundly lonely and unfulfilling way to exist.

"That seems awfully lonely to me," you remarked. Your voice was tinged with a hint of compassion, despite your better judgment.

Sukuna's eyes narrowed slightly as he registered your words, a flicker of something akin to surprise crossing his features. However, it was quickly replaced by a look of disdain, and he simply scoffed in response.

Without another word, Sukuna turned his back to you, fully absorbing himself in the movie again. His dismissive reaction made it clear that the conversation was over.

Sensing the futility of pressing Sukuna any further, you decided it was best to let the matter drop. Reaching for the apple placed beside your bedside, you took slow, deliberate bites, savoring the crisp fruit for a fleeting moment of joy.

While chewing, your gaze involuntarily drifted to Sukuna's back, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was capable of feeling anything at all.

---------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be uploaded soon.

If you want to be added to the taglist, so you don't miss any updates, please let me know in the comments or with a private message. Thankyou!

Taglist: @sukunasthightattoos, @tomiokasecretlover, @6demonize6me6, @blindbabycadder

#ryomen sukuna #ryomen x reader #sukuna fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk men x reader #jjk men x you #sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x oc

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penvisions · 6 months

Note

Congrats on your milestone, lovely Dev! 🖤🎉🎉 So, so happy for you!

To celebrate, I'd love to request 💡 if I may? I'm thinking something soft and fluffy with my main Ezra... 😍 I'd love to see what you come up with for him. Or you can trade him in for Dieter if you'd like. Or alternatively, write both! 🙌🏻

Once again, congrats and love you millions! 🖤🎉🎉🎉

lovely jett!! i appreciate you so much, thank you for the kind words ♡

i went ahead and picked ezra bc i've been wanting to write for him for some time now but have been too preoccupied with our dear joel miller. without further ado, here is a lil drabble! ♡

{plumage}

come celebrate with me!

#dev writes #follower celebration #follower milestone #fic: plumage #ezra prospect #ezra #ezra x reader #ezra x you #prospect #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #prospect movie #prospect ezra #prospect 2018 #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

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taste-your-silhouette · 1 year

Text

Say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams

Pairings: Vic De Angelis xfem!reader

Contents: Fluff, SMUT

Summary: You're an up-and-coming actress, and Vic's best friend since high school. You have been friends and in love with each other for as long as you can remember. So when you have the chance to be together, it's magical.

Words: ~2276

A/N: Firstly, English isn't my native language, so pleeease forgive me if you come across any errors while reading. It's my first fanfiction, but I've planned it so so so much and I sincerely hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it!

"Well, she is..." A torrent of reminiscences flooded your mind, evoking memories of your youthful days, your time together in high school, and the challenging battles you fought to progress in your careers, always finding each other and nurturing your affection whenever circumstances permitted. "the love of my life."

In that poignant moment, it felt as though the air itself froze in your lungs, while a profound chill coursed through your entire being, setting your stomach aflutter.

"So, enlighten us on the factors contributing to your current state of not being together," the interviewer probed.

"We're constantly in each other's company, you know, whenever we can orchestrate it," you responded with a chuckle. "We're currently living the pinnacle of our lives, I mean, career-wise, you know? Måneskin is rocking it worldwide and I've got a TV series and two movies in the pipeline. It's quite a juggling act. Therefore, we're doing our utmost, just going with the flow."

You and the journalist continued to engage in lively discussions covering various topics, including your professional journey and the prospects of your upcoming projects. However, it was the part about your personal life that made you the most jittery. You had openly professed your love for Victoria in an interview for one of the biggest magazines in the world. Not that you both had never expressed your feelings for each other before, but this was different.

"What is the projected publication date for the article?" you inquired of the journalist.

"In a fortnight. Why do you ask? Regretting any of your statements?" she inquired, with a touch of suspicion yet clandestinely relishing the notion of your potential regret.

"Oh, not in the slightest," you responded, chuckling. "Simply curious."

🎸

"Guess who's rocking the cover of Rolling Stone!" your publicist burst into the dressing room, where you were getting ready for a TV show.

"Finally!" You widened your eyes and asked for a moment to quickly skim through the article. Of all the topics discussed, the focal point inevitably became your heartfelt declaration of love for Victoria, as though you had never before professed your love to her.

As you read snippets of the article, your phone rang, and a snapshot of you and Vic materialized with her name.

"Ciao cuore mio," you enthusiastically answered the call.

"So, am I really the love of your life?" Vic responded, her smile palpable.

"Did you read the magazine? I forewarned you, they would exploit it shamelessly, akin to treasure seekers lusting after gold."

"I only read the parts that piqued my interest, obviously. You look absolutely hot in the photoshoot they did. I want a poster of each of those pictures to plaster on the ceiling of every hotel I stay at during our tour." You struggle to contain your laughter, but it's futile.

You both shared a laugh for a moment. You needed to get back to doing your makeup, but hearing Victoria's voice was so invigorating. You missed her immensely.

"I wanna see you. It's been far too long since our last encounter, I can't bear it any longer," Victoria whispered the final sentence, sending shivers down your spine.

You were aware that the band was in the midst of their tour, so if you didn't go to meet her, you wouldn't be able to see each other.

"I have a recording session today, but I'm available all weekend. Where will you be?"

"Hmmm, we'll be passing through Germany. We have a concert in Berlin today and another in Cologne tomorrow. I'll have Sunday free. Fancy a little adventure around Germany?"

"Only if I have a backstage pass for the concert in Cologne."

"You always do, Y/N," Victoria replied confidently.

"Deal, now I have to go, I'm running terribly late. See you there."

🎸

At 7pm, you strolled into the dressing room accompanied by the security guards. Vic, Thomas and Ethan were gathered in a room adorned with an array of intriguing items, and serendipitously, you entered just as Victoria enveloped Thomas from behind, insinuating an intimate encounter. The vibrant energy exuded in that moment reignited a sense of belonging within you.

"I can't believe I made it to this amazing gathering!" You exclaim boisterously, bursting into laughter.

"Now the Måneskin is complete!" Thomas bellows, thrusting his hands into the air as he approaches to embrace you.

"Mia cara amica Y/N, I saved some slices of pizza for you," Ethan chimes in, hugging you while holding his drumsticks.

Damiano appears, shouting something incomprehensible, and in an instant, you find yourself on his shoulders.

"She's the love of my life," Damiano exclaims, mimicking your voice and bursting into laughter. "I've loved her ever since I grasped the true meaning of love. So much love for her!"

You close your eyes and burst into laughter as Damiano playfully mocks you, creating a nostalgic atmosphere where you all feel like carefree teenagers once again.

Suddenly, Victoria appears, perched atop Ethan's shoulders, mirroring your playful stance. You lock eyes, and in that moment, the world seems to stand still, leaving only the two of you. Having been apart for several months, every reunion is an explosion of emotions. One particular phrase she shared with you after a year-long separation still resonates: "I wanna swim between your thighs” Not long after that, Victoria confessed that, inspired by the night you spent together, she wrote "For Your Love" in just 20 minutes.

Your train of thought was abruptly halted when Damiano playfully released you, allowing Victoria to seize your face with both hands. With a glimmer of excitement in her eyes, she examined your features before planting a passionate kiss on your lips.

Regrettably, the kiss was short-lived, as they needed to take the stage. You accompanied them backstage, assisting Damiano and Thomas with their attire. When you approached Victoria to lend a hand, she awaited you with a radiant smile.

"I promise, once we're finished, I'll be completely devoted to you," she pledged, punctuating her words with one final kiss before donning her blazer.

"Oh, baby, rest assured, I'll be right here, hungrily devouring every captivating moment of the concert, my desires ignited by your mesmerizing performance."

"Mmm, I can feel the exhilaration coursing through my veins, knowing that this time, those deliciously naughty cravings will surpass your wildest imagination and materialize into an intoxicating reality."

She gave you a mischievous grin and, before turning towards the stage, playfully blew you an air kiss.

The concert was absolutely mind-blowing. The four of them were rocking it harder than ever, and your heart swelled with pride, having been there since their very first dream of starting a band and supporting them through every phase. Whenever Victoria had a chance to come backstage, she would shower you with passionate kisses, leaving you breathless.

By the end of the concert, they were buzzing with energy.

"You guys were fucking amazing!! I love you so much, I missed you!"

"We missed you too!" Ethan shouted over the roaring crowd, and Thomas nodded in agreement.

"Now that you're a big-shot actress, it's rare to see you tagging along to concerts with us," teased Damiano, laughing and tousling his hair. "But enough with this drama, I know you and Victoria are burning up inside. So go on, go head to the hotel and have a blast!"

"Next time, I'll bring Giorgia along so you won't be bored out of your mind, alright?"

We were teasing each other while Victoria changed outfits, and when she emerged in a different ensemble from the one she wore on stage, you, Damiano, and Thomas attempted to mimic a challenging dance move Thomas had seen on TikTok. Ethan, on the other hand, dared you to perform the same dance while he evaluated and gave it a rating.

As soon as you laid eyes on her, she looked absolutely stunning, even more down-to-earth than she did just moments ago on stage.

"Alright, enough fooling around, I've won, and my prize is Victoria. See you later." You halted the dance, approached Victoria, and planted a kiss on her lips.

🎸

You hop into an Uber to head back to the hotel, chatting away during the ride. Conversation has never been an issue for you both—you always have so much to catch up on since your lives are jam-packed, leaving little time for heart-to-heart talks.

"Last week, I was in Paris, did you catch that? Y/N, I stumbled upon this incredible restaurant that we absolutely have to try together. It's right up your alley, with all your favorite things. The whole time I was there, I couldn't stop thinking about you," she confessed.

"Was that the day you called me, and I couldn't pick up?"

"Yes, exactly! I just wanted to hear your voice. Sometimes it sucks being so far away from you," she replied, her gaze lowered as her hand gently glided up your thighs.

"We've arrived," the driver announces, and you step out of the car.

The moments leading up to entering Victoria's hotel room were a whirlwind for you, consumed by thoughts of indulging in every inch of her captivating form.

As soon as she locked the door behind you, her eyes locked onto yours, a potent mix of desire and admiration shining through. You yearned for her, craving her presence in every imaginable way. With a seductive grin, Vic shrugged off her jacket, revealing a tantalizing hint of her confidence. Closing the distance between you, she extended her hand and deftly slipped the coat off her shoulders, letting it fall carelessly to the floor.

"Now you're all mine," she whispered, pressing her lips against your exposed shoulders, playfully nibbling at your neck.

"And you're all mine, just us here," you whispered, your voice laced with possessiveness and adoration. With a gentle caress, you twirled a strand of her hair around your finger, relishing in its silky touch against your skin. In that moment, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a uniquely intimate bond.

With a daring move, she firmly grasped your hips, asserting her dominance. In one swift motion, she pressed you against the wall, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. A surge of anticipation shot through you as your back met the unyielding surface.

Driven by a heady mix of desire and control, her hands began their ascent. One arm encircled you possessively, drawing you closer, while the other embarked on a tantalizingly slow journey, inching higher and higher. The tension mounted, testing your patience, until at last, she cupped your breast, igniting a surge of pleasure that rippled through your entire being.

Vic pulled back her hands with a mischievous grin.

"Not yet," she said, slowly stepping backward toward her bed, still holding your hand, her gaze fixed on you.

She undressed you completely, leaving you completely naked. A triumphant smirk played on her lips as she pushed you onto the bed, delighting in the sight of her breasts bouncing.

"I missed you so much," she whispered.

Crawling on top of you, she captured your wrists, trapping you beneath her. Her lips crashed against yours, trailing down to your chin and neck. She ravished your skin, sucking and nibbling, leaving a trail of moist kisses in her path. Then, with purposeful motion, she positioned her knee between your thighs, pressing it against your moist center. A gasp escaped her lips as you instinctively moved your hips forward.

She showered your body with kisses, leaving love bites on your sides, hips, and thighs. Her gentle touch caressed your heated skin, sending shivers of delight through your body. Vic reveled in teasing you, savoring the sound of your moans. At last, she focused her attention on your most sensitive areas, her mischievous grin fueling your excitement.

Her fingers embarked on a tantalizing dance, teasing your folds and stroking your clit. As she slid two fingers inside you, she lowered her face, nestling it between your thighs. Vic's warm breath against your skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With deliberate slowness, she lavished your clit with a long, languid lick, her tongue pressing firmly against it. Your moans filled the air as you instinctively reached out, tangling your fingers in her blonde locks, pulling her closer to you.

Vic increased the speed of her fingers, skillfully exploring every inch of her pulsating pussy, creating a symphony of juicy, tantalizing sounds. She eagerly sucked on your clit, simultaneously thrusting her fingers in and out with rapidity. The intensity heightened, your muscles tensing, and your body edging closer to the precipice. You couldn't help but let out loud moans, the pleasure intensifying within you.

And then it happened. Your climax crashed over you like a wild wave, and you couldn't suppress the loud scream that escaped your lips. Waves of ecstasy engulfed you as you experienced the euphoric release.

Vic continued to bestow attention on your sensitive folds, indulging in a few more licks of your pussy before planting a gentle kiss on your thigh, a silent sign of satisfaction.

"I missed you so, so much," she whispered, her mouth and chin still glistening, soaked with anticipation.

"Well, now it's my turn..." you whispered, a mischievous grin spreading across your face as you pulled her down, aligning your eyes with hers.

You pressed your lips against hers in a passionate kiss, and then shifted on top of her, reversing roles. This time, you took the lead and embarked on fulfilling her deepest desires, transporting her to euphoric heights just as she had done for you.

#vic de angelis #victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis x reader #vic de angelis x reader #victoria de angelis fic #måneskin fic #maneskin imagine

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