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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months

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Eat your Young (viking!Konig x fem!Reader)

You weren't afraid when the Vikings came. Your ruler pays them well, and they protect you from enemies far worse - there is nothing to worry about as you, an unmarried maiden, wander into the embrace of one of them. They are on your side. Right? Tags and CWs: Age gap, size difference, Konig is a bit obsessive and a huge perv, mentions of violence, Vikings Are Actually Kinda Nice No For Real, hand jobs, oral sex, naked man/clothed woman, slightly historically inaccurate, jokes about inbreeding Thanks to @angelbabysblog for the idea. I changed quite a lot because I was reading articled about how many of the Slavic cities were actually cool with Vikings and worked with them AO3

The Vikings are here. Your Father never allowed you to meet them before – as an unmarried girl, even if you’re already of age, it would be…scandalous. Not smart. Dumb, really – everyone knows that girls that are messing with the warrior from overseas often end up being taken away. And you couldn’t survive sea travel. The Vikings are here, but it’s not really a problem – you know that there are other countries over the sea, the countries that die and burn every time a ship is sailed in their harbors. You also know that you do not live in a country like that. That sound of Vikings approaching is a good one – that you’ll be protected from the other enemies your country has. You always stole glances, despite what your father has told you – you were a curious thing, always searching for trouble, always interested in everyone outside of your small village. You’re on the border – stuck between sea and great plains, open for any enemy if it weren’t for mercenaries who deemed this place as worthy of their camp. They live here, occupying the territory outside – even build themselves houses, despite every rumor calling them nothing more but overseas barbarians who would tear you down for a flick of a coin.

Well, you always thought you’d have nothing to worry about – you are not made of coins, after all. The Vikings had a leader, the one that stayed in the long house just outskirts of the village – the one that would always visit the elders, discussing the payments and the spoils of war. Father always punished you if any nosy neighbor would see you sneaking out to look at the warriors – but you couldn’t care less. If you are going to end up in a marriage with a fool, you could at least steal a few looks at the real men. Not the ones from your village – they felt more like brothers than anything else. Some of them were – second, third, fourth, just diluted enough to make the babies a bit less disfigured.

But, oh, nothing compared to the vikings. You see them when you run for the lake, far from the shore. They are clean – cleaner than sailors from Byzantine who sometimes stumbled upon the small village by the sea. You think you heard them talking about how cleanliness is a sin – and just how silly it sounded. You think you didn’t like people from this place very much – sailors were often drunk, always handsy and never spared a kind word without an insult…not that you knew their language – but you are smart enough to know that if a man is attempting to grasp your breasts while sneering something through his teeth, it won’t be a love poem.

— What are you doing here?

Ah.

You were spotted. Like a fox in a hunter’s trap – you are standing in the tall water grass, looking at the man through the weeping willow branches. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, he’d think you were a mavka, trying to drown him – some men were foolish enough to fall for the act, sparing you the consequences of your curiosity. You aren’t sure if the Vikings have legends of mavkas – if they even have lakes back where they are from. All travelers are mixed in your head – desserts, great plains, barbarians who would steal your sisters if you’d been blessed with some. Sea beasts who will take you on your ship, away from your father and…ah, it doesn’t sound too bad.

— Can’t you talk?

His voice is rough, and accented. Younger than you thought he would be with a body like this – a seasoned warrior, ginger hair covering his muscular chest and a small trail falling down his…

Viking knows your language. Shouldn’t be surprising – they are working for the elders and your ruler, after all. They get gold from your village, they get food from your village. They get sons – you heard about at least some of the women falling pregnant to the guests overseas. No one dares to say anything against it – but the rumors are still falling. You wonder if it’s as bad as it sounds. — I can talk.

This sounds dumb, but there is no use in hiding. Your intentions weren’t innocent – you are curious and curiosity is what leads to the devil. Or god of death. Or goddess – you are not well-versed in matters of spirit and while half of your village is still worshipping old gods while the other preaches about new, stronger ones, you wonder what kind of beliefs Vikings have. You heard their women can wield magic – and can count. And read. You would love to read, you think. — Gut. Thought I spotted a Margygr.

The word is weird. Rough. You don’t know what that is, but you certainly aren’t one. You take a step forward, not caring that your linen dress is getting drenched in water – not caring about what your father might say after. You would just tell him you wanted to go and drown since he was so adamant on marrying you off to some one-eyed half-wit quarter brother of yours. He wouldn’t be surprised – and you probably wouldn’t be missed. A whore to be, as some older women from your village would say.

— What is that?

He tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes looking at you. You notice a piece of cloth in his hands – something that must have been covering his face, you think. He is covered in scars and dirt, blood from some battle is getting washed away into the water of the lake. Gods, you say to yourself – you won’t even be drinking from it again. Although you promised it to yourself a few years ago already, when you spotted a dead deer lying in the water – and it’s not like you held to your promise. Better than seawater, after all. — A…drowned creature. Drowning creature. Your people are calling them… — Oh. Mavka. — Others call it mermaid. Selkie. Mermaid sounds harsh too. Rude. Other languages are rude – still, you would like to know more. Still, you would like to do anything to get out of your village. Learn to read. To write. Maybe hold a baby goat close to your chest and not have it ripped away for the nearest dinner.

— I’m not…that.

— I can see.

He laughs and you steal a peak at his manhood. You should be ashamed, really – if your dear mother was alive, she’d beat you up for being so immodest. If your dear mother was alive, you wouldn’t be allowed to sneak out like that – but she isn’t, so you stare at the man who can crush your skull in one hand. You stare at the trail of ginger hair going down his waist. The muscles flexing and the scars on his hips, glossy from cold lake water.

Hm.

Is it supposed to be this big?

He coughs and you peek to look at him again. Coughing isn’t good – he can be sick. Contangenous. There is a sickness coming around from sailor to sailor – you wonder if vikings have it too. You don’t want to get sick – but it would surely keep you out of marriage for a long while. Maybe, if you’re lucky enough, you could be buried like a pretty maiden. White dress and mourning relatives. That would teach them how to send you off to marry some dumb cousin you never knew before. Or knew too well. — You shouldn’t come here, Schatzen.

— Why?

— My men won’t be as nice as I am when they see a maiden in the lake.

You smile, tilting your head to the side. There are rumors – you can’t invite foreign mercenaries into your country without them taking their toll on the locals. Some people like them, some people are scared of them. Some are going out of the ordeal pregnant and some are not returning at all. But, you can run. But, this is your lake. You like it here – the quiet, the tranquility. You think that if your father proceed with calling you an old bride who should be married as soon as possible, you could just run away and live here. Fish is nice and there are berries when it’s not too cold. — Where are your men?

You never saw Vikings in battle. Never saw a group of them up close – you’d like to, of course. There are warriors in your village, but their best shot is wolves and deer. Not other men – you think you’d like to see war sometimes. Maybe, all the boys of age would die and you won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You would be nice as a local witch – or a local healer. Old hag sounds nice too. — Around. Waiting for the order. — What order?

You ask so many questions, König thinks. Pretty thing – smart, too. You aren’t afraid of him, even though you have to be. Most women would be screaming and crying if they saw someone like him in the lake next to them. Not Viking women of course – but people from around here are soft. Cherished. Coddled. You also seem soft, too soft, too gentle – a woman living in a small village on the shore without a husband shouldn’t be this careless. König knows you’re just lucky that the ruler of your country is kind enough to pay the overseas mercenaries instead of suffering the pillaging. Not all of people are this lucky.

If he won’t get a promised weight in gold this village won’t be lucky either.

König looks at your sweet face, at the way your eyes constantly dart to his crotch. Curious little thing you are – he isn’t sure if he is that happy that the payments have been consistent up to this point. That he can’t just screw this all over and demand a payment in other ways. That pillaging this village and taking all of its women isn’t really an option while they get their gold from here. Your long linen dress clings to your skin - you’re shaking, he notices. From cold, probably, dumb lady who is too curious for her own good. Hm. He has furs not far from here. He can…

— We’re protecting the shore. The border, too. You smile, nodding. And here he thought the locals knew why the foreigners were here – but he can’t expect too much, he guesses. At least it seems like you haven’t heard of most of his accomplishments. The rivers of blood would be enough to fill this whole lake three times. Or, maybe, you heard – and didn’t care, brave and fearless little thing. König likes the sound of that.

— Are you cold?

You ask him, to his surprise. Your gaze is switching from his face – he is open, cheeks flushed from the cold and a maiden right next to him, and he can’t even find it in himself to cover his scarred mug – to his cock. It’s standing proudly, heavy, balls hanging low as if asking to be held in your soft palms. König isn’t embarrassed – but he is surprised that your body, showing only a little bit in that dress of yours, is already enough to make him this bothered. This ready to give up the supposed protection of this village and take what’s his. — You can warm me.

You tilt your head to the side, mimicking his action from earlier. Curious bird – he could keep you at his ship. Tied up to the post, ready for anyone to use you. You’re strong, and resilient. Should survive the long way home – and he is getting quite ready to find someone at last. If the ruler of your little kingdom won’t be as stingy as the previous one, König can walk away with a sack of gold hanging on his shoulder. Enough for him and for him men. Surely enough to sway you. — How?

— Do you have a husband?

He knows, you probably don’t. A husband wouldn’t allow his wife to run around and flirt with other men – and if König was yours, he surely would keep you locked in like the treasure you are. There is too many men ready to take what doesn’t belong to them.

— No. And I won’t.

— Why? — Soon I will be too old to be a bride anyway. Not that I want it. He laughs at that. Surely, little bird, it wouldn’t be your choice. If the luck is on his side, it wouldn’t even be the choice of your father. — Touch me, Schatzen. You want it, ja?

He says this with more awkwardness than before. Swaying women by his side isn’t his strong suit – and even with his strength, not many of them would just throw themselves at him. Being a mercenary leader might bring him money but with the whole team consisting of equally strong and handsome men, the broody leader usually isn’t the first choice. He gets his fill eventually – but not the one that would make his heart flutter. With you, however… Your hands are traveling down his abs. Caressing every bit of skin you see – sending goosebumps down his navel and straight to his hard and leaking cock. He wonders if you’ve done this before – but your actions are the one of an explorer, not a professional. YOu grab his cock with both hands almost as if strangling him, and König lets go with a choked moan.

You retrieve your hands, nervous. Good girl. Eager, pretty. Such a shame this village usually pays its tolls. — Are you hurt?

— Nein, it’s…go on. You proceed to touch him, the softness of your touches is making him groan from pleasure. This is something else – you’re something else. Having the power to bring a seasoned warrior to his knees – god, how much he liked the way you looked at him. Eager and curious, always going down to touch his cock some more. You press your palm together, making s steady rhythm – using the pre-cum from his cockhead like a lube.

König relishes in the feeling – he might be one of the strongest soldiers, but it was the first time he felt victorious. With your hand pumping his cock up and down, the pleasure settling in his stomach and threatening to burst, he felt like a king. No, the king. Gods, you were beautiful. Worthy of throwing this village into the fire for. Worthy risking the payment. Your mouth is warm on his manhood – he didn’t expect you to be this active, to wrap your lips around the bulging head and bop your head just a bit. Up and down. Tongue swirling, as if tasting him. Making him sweat that you will decide to take a bite out of it, just to satisfy your curiosity. To his peace, you didn’t. He came shortly after you decided to put your mouth on him – when your tongue started to swirl around and collect the bitter taste of his pre-cum. When your curiosity about foreign warriors bathing in your lake finally made you do something about it – and he would feel bad about pressing a hand in your hair and forcing you to choke on his length, your nails digging small red paths in his pale thighs. You choke and squirm and cry and this is the sweetest sound he ever heard – so when he finally drags you away from his cock, smiling as you wipe your mouth and whimper. Squirm again, some more. The light in your faded a little as he pushed one calloused finger into his mouth and pushed your lips apart. Poor thing, he thinks. — You did good, little bird.

His seed tastes weird on the tongue. You wince, but swallow – it’s what good brides should do, you think. Somehow, looking at this warrior, you don’t feel so bad about being considered a bride. Maybe…no. You stalled here for long enough – you saw the Viking. You touched him. Tasted him. Father is probably looking for you.

You don’t even bother to say goodbye as you come out of the water – but König stops you right on the edge of the lake, firm hand on your shoulder. Squeezing. Touching. Feeling.

— I…I apologize, maiden. I lost control.

His voice is hesitant. You don’t like how unsure he sounds. It made you feel unsure too. Weird. Uncertain and meek.

— Are you going to leave soon?

He stops mumbling, looking into your eyes. This is settled – he is not leaving you here. You must return to your family, say your goodbyes. Maybe enjoy a few weeks of peace before his troupe finally gets a clearing on killing whatever enemies grouped at the border – and he will take you no matter the payment your ruler can give him. Nothing will be worth more than you.

— Yes. Yes, I will. You turn away, almost running. He didn’t stop you this time – you need to get as much freedom in your lungs as you can. He will take you eventually and, well…you best enjoy freedom as much as you could before this.

When your village will burn along with all the cousins, half-triple brothers, and elders, you’ll find out why most countries fear the Vikings. When you will be hauled to the wooden ship over a giant’s shoulder, with his hand sitting firmly on your ass and his other palm preventing you from screaming, you’d know why taking the attention of overseas mercenaries is a bad idea. When your ruler would refuse to pay the warriors for their service and force them to just take everything by force, you’d know why making payments on time is so important.

When König would finally make you his wife, you’d understand why you should have drowned in that lake instead.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #call of duty #cod x you #konig x you #konig cod #cod konig #yandere x you #yandere x reader

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pseudowho · 1 month

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The Stacks

(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

Stuck together on an all-night study session at the University library, you and your rival Higuruma Hiromi find you may have more in common than you thought...

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, rivals/enemies to lovers, breaking point smut, mild brat-taming/retribution, 'missionary so we can continue fighting'

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The twilight crept in-- but, while your fellow students were heading out for a night of drinks and debauchery, you walked under the evening-dappled willows, to the entrance of the library. You already knew it would be as quiet as the grave.

In the morning was your final, decisive Law exam; this was it. The culmination of years of effort. The final hurdle before the start of a glorious, prolific career. The recognition of yourself as the best Lawyer that your University had ever produced. And, with a curious, melancholy twinge of anger, the last time you would ever have to share a classroom with--

"You." Two voices rang out through the library entrance corridor; one disgusted, the other surprised. Higuruma Hiromi's hooked nose wrinkled at you, beetle-black eyes glinting as he straightened under a straining bag of books, to full height.

A taut moment of silence. Something in Hiromi's jaw clenched and unclenched rapidly, his foot tapping, and he looked aside. Looking back at you, his fury a thin veneer over a flicker of curiosity, he tensed to feel you sweep past him.

"I'm taking the Law section. You can grab some books, and fuck off to study somewhere else, Higuruma."

"Hey-- hey-- you can get fucked if you think you're taking over the place, sunshine--"

Hiromi prickled, rushing to catch up with you. You raced him, his long spidery legs easily putting him in front of you. Two sets of frantic footsteps running up the staircases, crashing and jostling-- "don't touch me!" "--stop it, you're a fucking menace--" "--not sitting with an arsehole like you all night--"

Hiromi and you approached the Law section at speed, a single plush sofa hidden away within circular stacked shelves, tables running between them like the spokes of a wheel. Hiromi shunted you aside at the last moment, slamming his bag on the couch with a satisfied hoot of success, turning to you with a grin and a twinkle in his eyes.

"Bastard!" You snapped, your hackles raised, and the twinkle in Hiromi's eyes dulled, replaced by tired disappointment as he looked away again, jaw twitching under your hateful gaze. Hiromi huffed, moving to empty his bag of textbooks and scattily-organised notebooks.

"Not like I'm going to stop you from studying here," Hiromi clipped, tense, "Lots of room. Didn't anyone ever teach you to share?" He teased, offering another wan smile. You rejected it categorically.

"I don't share with rats," you snapped, grabbing your bag and slamming it onto a nearby table. Hiromi was silent, tapping his fingers against his thigh, mouth puckering up into a bitter snipe.

"Yeah, well...let me know if you want to borrow my paper from the Spring term," Hiromi offered sarcastically, his anger burning low, "I know you didnt do so well on that one--"

"Shut up! My paper was perfect, it was--"

"--second best in the class?" Hiromi hissed air through his teeth, his crossed legs bouncing and jittery as he started to sort through notes, "Yeah, it's okay, I suppose...always room for improvement though, right?"

"Yeah, well..." You retaliated, stumbling over your words, "...you know where you can find a decent essay on Commercial Law, I know you struggle with it."

Hiromi ignored you, relaxed and not taking the bait. It pissed you off how effortless he found all of this, how he didn't have a competitive bone in his body...and all the while, you had toiled away blood, sweat and tears to get to the position you were.

You sat in stony silence for an hour, studying quietly. Any time you relaxed in his presence, you mentally snapped at yourself, not willing to concede one inch to such a snake--

A cup of coffee from the vending machine was dropped in front of you by one long-fingered, elegant hand. You looked up to see Hiromi loping away, warm and lackadaisical in his slim black jeans and Law school sweatshirt. You bristled. Hiromi sat on the sofa again, rolling his eyes as you pushed the coffee away from you with a huff, his own coffee hiding the hint of a smile on his lips and coal-ember eyes.

You tried to hide a yawn behind your hand. Between studying, and part-time bar work to pay your way, sleep was a rare resource. You knew no light in your life other than that from the candle you burned at both ends. Rubbing your eyes, your elbow slipped when you moved to rest it on the table. Your impeccably written flashcards hit the floor, scattering as you swore, kneeling to pick them up.

A few slow footsteps, and those long-fingered hands appeared in your vision again, helping to collect your flashcards with meticulous care. Your shoulders bunched up, and you snatched the pile of cards from Hiromi's hands when he offered them to you.

"Thank you," you begrudged. Hiromi remained on his haunches, hands clasped in front of him.

"Nice flashcards," he offered, and you bristled again, looking for insult, "want me to quiz you?"

"I can do it by myself," you snapped, turning to sit on your chair again, your back to him. You weren't sure if you heard Hiromi sigh.

"Suit yourself, misery guts." Hiromi moved back to the couch, not partaking in the bitter little competition he had never entered. As the clock ticked onwards, approaching midnight, the sky beyond the windows now an inky black, your brain began to fog. You caught yourself reading the same sentence again, and again, and again--

You heard a persistent little tapping. Hiromi had not looked up from his notes, but patted the spot on the sofa beside him in invitation.

"Come on," he pressed, soft and unyielding, "bring your flashcards over, and I'll quiz you. If we're here all night, we might as well be useful to each other."

Your resolve crumbled, despite your prickles of disgust towards Hiromi, and you picked up your lukewarm coffee and your flashcards to sit beside him. You hadn't realised how cold you were, until you felt the warmth of his thickly muscled thigh against yours. You shivered. Hiromi's gaze flicked up and down your body, his hangdog eyes impassively reading you.

He took off his sweatshirt in one fluid movement, holding it out to you. You pretended to ignore him, turning your face away with a pout. Hiromi scoffed. Momentarily, you squealed in indignation to feel his sweatshirt being pulled over your head, your arms being pushed through the sleeves like you were a child.

"Do as you're told," Hiromi chastised without venom, "and wear my fucking sweatshirt. You're cold." You swallowed, rendered speechless by his warmth, the soft notes of his shampoo, and, to your surprise, cologne.

"Did mummy buy you some nice perfume?" You jabbed, and you blushed as Hiromi surprised you with a laugh, deep, rich and genuine. Hiromi leaned across you, his face skirting so close to yours, on his way to reach for your flash cards. He moved his face even closer, his voice conspiratorial as you felt his warm, coffee'd breath over your lips.

"Mummy still thinks I'm some little boy."

You felt a shiver down your spine, feeling heat pool in your belly and pussy, before mentally shaking yourself. Higuruma Hiromi? You berated yourself internally, don't be so fucking ridiculous.

You had felt your eyes wander to him, early in your first year, his quiet confidence so magnetic. You had almost been pulled into his gravity. Then, he bested you in test, after test, after test, never seeming to break a sweat, being lauded as a prodigy, touted as the youngest Judge the Law school would ever see instated. It hadn't taken long for you to see him as the nuisance he was.

Then, he had done something unforgivably dirty, becoming a filthy little sellout, and your conviction in your opinion of him was solidified with brutal finality.

Your train of thought was interrupted by your coffee being pressed into your hands.

"Drink up," Hiromi urged, his tone broaching no argument, a wonky smile on his face which made your stomach somersault, "and get ready. I won't go easy on you."

And, he didn't. He grilled you mercilessly, becoming more and more thrilled as you snapped back each time with devastating precision and accuracy. The flashcards soon became secondary, and eventually discarded in favour of a soulful debate. The back and forth roared through you both like wildfire. You bounced off Hiromi's challenge with ease, his natural foil, and he took it all with a sultry delight that intoxicated you.

Your legs were entangled, now, facing each other on the sofa, and ribbing each other for all you were worth. You hadn't noticed how low your guard had dropped, until you saw how Hiromi looked at you, your wide sparkling smile, your twinkling eyes, your dimples. His square jaw leaned on one hand, his slim fingers stretching from chin to temple, one finger between his teeth, eyes dipped low and burning through you as he smiled. You gulped, feeling the fire warm you from head to foot.

"I'm, uhm..." you trembled, pushing your glasses up your nose as he raised his eyebrows, otherwise still as a panther in the rainforest, "...uhm...just going to get a snack...want anything?"

"...sure," Hiromi eventually answered, watching with mischief as you untangled your legs from his, "anything." You skittered past Hiromi, and it took everything in his power not to pull you to straddle his lap and see just how much he could steam up your glasses.

Turning the corner to the vending machine, you finally released the breath you had been holding. You fanned your face, pressing buttons, selecting a random assortment of snacks, and tapping your card to the card reader. Three little bleeps-- declined.

You felt a thread of panic. You checked your bank account with your heart in your throat...pennies. Literal pennies left to your name, until payday before the weekend. You now burned with shame, considering just leaving your books and bag and turning tail back to your apartment. Instead, with a furious blush over your cheeks, you headed back to the sofa, Hiromi looking at you curiously as you pulled a book onto your lap, empty-handed.

"Nothing decent," you lied, "sorry." Hiromi was silent; his gaze rendered you transparent in a way that was so unwelcome to you now. You felt a wash of relief as he stood up and walked away.

A few minutes later, Hiromi returned, gently placing a bag of crisps and a bar of chocolate down on the book on your lap. Tears of shame prickles in your eyes.

"You like these, right? I've seen you eat them before," Hiromi mused, gentle and casual. You pressed your eyes and lips shut, tears threatening to overspill.

"You didn't have to," you urged, your voice tight. Hiromi hummed to himself, taking a bite of his chocolate, and raising your chocolate bar to boop you softly on the nose.

"Big day tomorrow...today. You won't do well if you're hungry." A pause. "You work hard. It happens." You flooded with a sickening rush of gratitude, Hiromi's easy empathy almost washing away the shame.

"...thank-- thank you," you mumbled, fingers closing round his, your little heart thumping for him, as you accepted the chocolate bar. "I get paid on Friday, I'll pay you back--"

Hiromi scoffed, playful, "Don't worry about it. Just...buy the second round of drinks." You felt your stomach flip, your fingertips pressed over your mouthful of chocolate as you blushed. He was so casual about it. You couldn't see how his heart pounded in anticipation, awaiting certain rejection.

"...I...uhm...yeah. That sounds...that sounds...nice." Hiromi released the breath he'd been holding in a shaky, quiet whoosh. He felt the bridge of his aquiline nose redden. He tried to look surreptitious as he scooted closer to you on the sofa, pretending to choose a textbook.

The exam in the morning was now the furthest thing from Hiromi's mind. You shivered to feel the heat of his thigh against you again, and your fingers itched to reach out and feel the hot corded muscle of them. Hiromi wanted nothing more than to turn, pull your mouth to his, and share the taste of chocolate on each others' tongues. He was torn by indecision.

Shifting your legs, your textbook tumbled off to the side of you. You leaned back, reaching down to the floor, at the same time as Hiromi leaned over your body, his fingers stretching out, too. You found yourself suddenly bracketed by his lithe, long body, his arms either side of your head and his lap pressed to yours.

You stared up at Hiromi, like a little bunny rabbit, trapped. You reached one hand up to brush the black commas of hair off Hiromi's forehead and he shuddered, feeling his cock throb and fatten behind the zipper of his jeans. He leaned down towards you, pupils dilated, a pit of possessive thrill just above his aching length as he spoke, millimetres away from your lips.

"How long has this been almost happening for?" Hiromi pondered aloud, his cock thickening even faster as you squeaked, little hands gripping his biceps.

"Never," you challenged weakly, "it was never going to happen--"

"Yeah, right," he whispered, low and sarcastic, one hand looping behind your neck in preparation for fucking into your mouth with his tongue, "always the same shit with you--"

"-- it might have happened sooner if-- if you didn't sell yourself to that filthy company to become their corporate lawyer lapdog--"

Hiromi stiffened instantly, pulling away from you, your lips chasing his briefly in confusion. You blinked up at him, feeling so small as his face twisted in fury above you, his eyes incandescent with rage.

"I'm sorry-- what?" He snarled, climbing off of you and leaving you cold, confused, blinking.

"--you--you were scouted by that nasty finance company, right? And you accepted. Everybody said--"

Hiromi laughed, humourless, both of his hands cupping his nose and lower face as he leaned back into the sofa, staring at the ceiling, "Yeah? Everybody says, do they? You listen to everybody, do you?"

You felt a thread of dread run through you, the adrenaline of having almost been taken by Hiromi, now replaced with the adrenaline of confrontation. You felt a ruffle of indignation through you.

"I always thought you'd go that way," you asserted, doubling-down, rendered stupid by the need to win, "some little corporate rat for pay."

Hiromi's teeth clenched so hard, you heard the crunch, and you felt exactly how seriously you had fucked up. You gulped. You stood, brisk. You crammed books and flashcards into your bag, before moving to make a swift exit.

"--a--anyway. Good luck in the morning. Have a nice life."

You hurried away, towards the tightly packed bookshelves, at first hearing silence behind you, before the sudden rush of heavy footsteps chasing you and your heart in your mouth and--

You squealed, forcibly spun by one strong hand, your back slammed against the bookshelves. Books slipped and fell around your head, but none of them hit you; Hiromi barely winced as he craned over you, books tumbling off his head and shoulders while his arms blocked your exit. His hips pressing against your belly trapped you further, and you felt the erection you had left him with, straining against his jeans.

"You're smart, but you're such a fucking know it all," Hiromi spat, urging you to answer for your crimes by forcing eye-contact. You swallowed, heart fluttering between your legs, speechless.

"Oh, what? Now you shut up, huh?" Hiromi tsked, a wonky smile on his face, still twisted in anger as he laughed, humourless, into his shoulder.

"What the fuck did I ever do wrong?" Hiromi demanded, leaning down so the side of his hooked nose pressed against yours, your lips almost touching, "What did I do to make you hate me? So fucking competitive, you act like a total brat to the one guy who's good enough to keep up with you."

"Higuruma, I-- I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

"Oh, no no no," Hiromi whispered, nose still pressed to yours, his cock rigid and twitching against your belly, "Hiromi, please. Enemies are just as intimate as lovers, after all." You shuddered, and Hiromi felt a drip of pre-cum soak his boxers, to see you finally yielding beneath him, and in his sweatshirt no less.

"...I did accept a job, obviously," Hiromi sniped, watching the colour drain from your face as he told you, "...at the Public Defence Office...you gullible little tart."

"...but if you think I'm such a bad person, how about I fuck you like one, hmm?" Hiromi drank down your squeak with a nose-crinkling grin, before crashing his lips to yours, moaning with relief into your gasping, warm mouth. The tension snapped in you, brittle under Hiromi's righteous rage, and you tangled your arms around his neck, pressing your body flat against his, in a kiss that was three years in the making.

"--oh, fuck yes-- fucking pain in my ass-- hate me all you like, still better than being ignored by you--" Hiromi nipped your bottom lip between his teeth, before sucking it between his, soothing the sting. You could feel how he shook with restraint, wanting retribution for years of ill-treatment. In a fleeting moment of shame-faced acceptance, as Hiromi laid claim to your neck, you realised you absolutely deserved it.

Hiromi marked your neck, sucking with his teeth and lips, raking the neckline of his sweatshirt down to do the same to your collarbones with a sandy moan. He scooped his arms under your thighs, lifting you against him, carrying you back to the sofa where he fell back, forcing you to straddle him. The sudden jolt of your clothed aching pussy against his cock made you both moan, and Hiromi bucked his cock up against you instinctively.

Feeling Hiromi's gaze burning into you again, you blushed, looking aside and sheepish. He reached up, tangling one hand roughly into your hair, tilting your head to the side, examining the lovebites down your neck with a shudder.

"You-- you're such a dickhead-- always came so fucking easy to you--" You whined at Hiromi, blushing as he laughed, his hand snaking under the sweatshirt to cup your breast with a groan of satisfaction.

"Fuck off," Hiromi scoffed, "fucking easy-- you treat me like scum, and you think I'm going to let you see me struggle? Please. Been fighting me for three years when you should have been fucking me instead."

Hiromi scooped your tank top and bra down beneath the sweatshirt, doing the same with his other hand, taking both of your breasts between his long, kneading fingers as he rutted his aching cock up into you.

"So go on then, if you're so clever...fuck me with your clothes on." You whimpered above him, feeling both of your nipples rolled insistently between his thumbs and forefingers. Your skirt had rucked up around your hips, and Hiromi swore under his breath to feel your arousal soak through his jeans, onto his cock.

He bucked up against your pussy again, and you mewled as shockwaves ran through your clit. Hiromi's fingers dug into your breasts, squeezing them with barely-contained need. You did as you were told, and hooked your panties aside, your pussy now flush against Hiromi's concealed length, and began to ride the underside of his weeping cock.

Hiromi threw his head back with a hiss, "Good girl-- not such a brat, now you're doing as you're told..." Hiromi bit his lip, moaning unashamedly to feel you hump yourself to orgasm against him. Despite his punishment of you, he already longed for you to fight back. He bucked his hips into you in challenge, thrilled when you planted your hands on his belly, your breasts squeezed together in his hands beneath the sweatshirt.

"--bet you're-- bet you're really fucking pleased with yourself--" You blushed, tears glittering bitterly in your eyes, moaning into Hiromi's mouth as he laughed again, kissing the pout off your face.

"I am, actually," he gasped, tweaking your nipples hard enough to make you whimper, "--gonna cum on my jeans, huh? Shit...don't know-- you never knew-- so fucking beautiful when you're being mean to me--'

Your thighs burned with the effort of rubbing your pussy against Hiromi, but you felt your orgasm building with the rough friction of Hiromi's trapped, twitching cock. Hiromi helped you, rutting up into you, staring at where your lap joined his, his face twisted into a feral snarl.

"--cum on me-- cum on me...shit, I need it, need to see your face when you finish...come on sweetheart--"

Hiromi's insistent growls send you tumbling over the edge, and you came with the sweetest cries Hiromi had ever heard. He watched you convulse and twist above him, his fingers still rolling over your sore nipples, his pupils blown with lust, teeth clenched with the effort of not spilling in his boxers. Hiromi rutted slowly into you, guiding through the haze of your pleasure until you came back to him, glassy-eyed and supple.

Hiromi released your breasts, flipping you over so your arse was on the edge of the sofa, with you on your back. Kneeling, Hiromi positioned himself between your thighs, one hand squeezing the plush of them, while his other pushed the sweatshirt up, his tongue drawing circles on your belly. You tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging until he moaned into your skin. His mouth travelled downwards, dipping beneath your skirt.

"Want to taste you," Hiromi insisted, yanking your panties down your legs, balling them up and shoving them into his back pocket. You opened your mouth to object, suddenly self-conscious. Hiromi growled at you, squeezing your nipple again until you keened at him, high and whimpering.

"Just shut up, and let me taste you," he growled, nuzzling his nose between your folds in an instant, rubbing it harshly from side to side over your sore, abused clit. You clapped a hand over your mouth to hold back the scream. Hiromi reached up, tugging your hand away and gripping them both together on your belly, "and hear you."

Hiromi swore into your cunt, lost in the taste of you, licking quick little flicks over your clit, in a way that filled your head with stars. Your thighs trembled, and you babbled Hiromi's name, watching with fascination as Hiromi unzipped himself, pulling his fat, heavy cock into his hand. He began to stroke himself with wet little plap plap plaps, soaking your pussy with his spit in preparation for sinking himself between your folds.

"Hiromi I-- right there god yes keep going with your nose I love it-- so good, I-- gonna cum, Hiromi--"

The last syllable of his name was dragged out in a sobbing cry. Hearing you whimpering and begging him as his nose and tongue fucked you through the waves of bliss, was worth all these years of your miserable torture, Hiromi thought lightly.

You blushed deeply as Hiromi came up for air, his gleeful face glistening with your cum. He grabbed you by the hips, yanking you so they almost fell off the sofa at an angle you knew would have you twisting against him.

Hiromi grasped his red tipped cock, and you drank it in hungrily; its pretty upward curve, three thick veins running down its length, the thick jet-black hair trailing down his belly. You felt your mouth water, and Hiromi was hyperfocused, sliding his cockhead up and down your folds with hooded eyes, sloppy and pussy-drunk.

"...fuck...I can't wait-- sorry, I--" Hiromi sheathed his length inside your slippy cunt in one slick thrust, whimpering and gripping you to him with dimpled fingerprints, "-- I can't wait any-- ahhh shit, so tight...squeeze my cock, c'mon--"

You didn't need to be told, clenching involuntarily as Hiromi completely impaled you on his cock. Hiromi gasped and cursed, yanking his t-shirt up and gripping it between his teeth, so he could stare down at where his cock sunk into you unhindered.

He fucked into you, slow and smooth, eyes flitting between your fucked-out face, your hands clawing at the sofa, and his cock pushing through your tight walls, its sweet upward curve dragging harshly against your spongy sensitive spot, nudging into your cervix and belly. Hiromi rolled his thumb around your clit, pinching the fatty flesh around it, gently pleasuring you to feel the way your walls fluttered and gripped him.

You locked your ankles around Hiromi's lower back, dragging an animalistic growl out of him. Hiromi stood bringing your hips with him, holding you by the thighs as he planted one hand on the sofa above your head, and upped his pace, fucking into you with messy abandon.

Watching your glasses bounce in time with your tits as he rammed into you, stoked a competitive urge in Hiromi, and he cursed, spitting venom as he upped his pace again. You arched involuntarily, feeling him fill you with such ragged fucks, that you forget where you were, clenching and whining around him.

You felt a fire, deep in the pit of your belly, watching Hiromi with absolute awe as he chased his orgasm, using your body as a cock sleeve with total reverence. Every muscle in his body twitched with effort, and you felt his cock twitching within you as he moaned and cursed. You clenched your pussy deliberately around his length, and Hiromi almost fell apart, his fingernails leaving crescents in the smooth leather of the sofa, his face twisted in anguished ecstasy.

"--so long waited so long-- shhhhit, ugh, s-so tight-- wet, fffuck...squeeze me agai-- oh fuck yes, cumming, I-- I--"

Hiromi broke off into strangled, desperate strings of moans, spurting hot, thick glugs of cum against your cervix. Hiromi continued to pinch and roll around your clit, and you felt yourself judder weakly as you came again, Hiromi gasping as your wet, velvety walls sucked the last spurts of seed from him.

Hiromi dropped to his knees, weak, still plugged inside you, gasping. He dropped his head onto your belly, grinning at the feel of your fingers sinking into his hair, holding him to you. A few sweet moments of companionable silence.

"...still gonna beat you in the morning, though."

Hiromi laughed into your plush belly, biting the soft skin there until you squealed, hearing him mumble against his sweatshirt.

"You wish."

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lqveharrington · 1 month

Text

We Become We | L.M.

summary: You and Lucifer were both linked by an unknown force, but Lucifer acted upon it differently, thinking it meant nothing.

pairing: Archangel!Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim!Reader

includes: fluff, angst, Sera and Micheal being kind of mean, heartbreak, letting your heart decided what to do and not your mind. (I think that’s it, let me know if I missed any !)

a/n: i listened to this song at least 100 times the other day, it’s really good. i think it made me cry already based on how many tiktoks i’ve seen of it.

Since the Father in Heaven created you, you have always been more curious about the different angels he created. You were the second Seraphim created after Sera, so you witnessed the birth of many angels, except for the Archangels. You were introduced to one another as royalty, treating one another with such status.

However, you always caught the eyes of a certain Archangel. He was the second oldest of God’s children, much like how you were the second Seraphim. When you were introduced to one another, you instantly clicked. You always made sure to find him once a day, conversing on several topics about Earth and the Heavens.

“Luce, where’s the— Lucifer!” You grimace at the Archangel, watching him give you a teasing grin. “You’re not supposed to touch those until later tonight.”

“It’s not my fault you decided to break into the palace’s kitchens for a snack!” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. You scrunch your nose at the action. “So formal all the time, beautiful.”

You roll your eyes as a smile etches its way to your lips, grabbing the strawberries from the fridge. “Just help me, you idiot.”

“Rude.” He bit into a strawberry, humming at the taste. “I was stating a fact.”

Nudging his shoulder, your wings ruffle at the words. “We have to go, Luce.”

“You really just came in here to get strawberries—?”

You both froze when you heard Gabriel and Sera’s voices coming through the other end of the kitchens, glancing at one another. Without another thought, you both run toward the back door, entering the palace gardens. You flinched when you heard Sera’s booming voice from the garden.

Lucifer pulled you by the waist, and softly pushed your back on a willow tree, covering your mouth when the wind speeds increased from his brother and your sister’s wings. Your eyes widened at the action, scanning his face as he looked behind you. You suddenly felt warm. From his hand holding your waist to the close proximity, you swear you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Sorry, they were looking for the culprit.” He chuckled as he removed his hand from your mouth, his golden eyes meeting your eyes. “Are you alright?”

You nod, face still warm from his hand still around your waist. “You still have frosting on your cheek, Luce…”

“Oh?” He swiped with his tongue, making you giggle. “Did I get it?”

“No.” You lift your hand, gently wiping the frosting off. “There.”

Lucifer smiled at you, “Thank you, beautiful.”

Seconds passed as you whispered back a response, letting the silence encapsulate the both of you. Your eyes searched his gaze while he cupped your cheek, rubbing softly.

“Lucifer—“

“SAMAEL!” Micheal yelled for his twin, making the both of you separate.

Your cheeks flare at the situation, watching him press a kiss to your cheek as he walks backward.

“I have to go, beautiful. I’ll see you later.” He winks, pushing off the ground with his six wings.

You lean against the tree, hand clutched by your heart. He had you hooked with a single action, but at what cost?

I could never choose to love another…

Months had passed and the Father created new souls on Earth. He created human souls, which fueled both you and Lucifer’s curiosity. You both visited them once in a while, but unbeknownst to you, Lucifer would visit without you, having built a blooming relationship with the human soul Lilith.

“Micheal!” You caught up with your creator’s eldest child, shifting your weight on your feet when he gave you an annoyed look. “Sorry, but uh… Do you know where Luc—Samael is? He promised we would have a picnic in the palace gardens today.”

“He went down to Earth to speak with Lilith again.” The Archangel waved you off. “If you wish to speak to him—“

“I’ll just go down to Earth.” You purse your lips, wings fluffing at his tone.

Lucifer said he was going to meet up with you by the gardens earlier that morning, he promised you. Did he just forget? Your heart ached at the thought as you soared down from the Heavens toward the Garden of Eden. You always loved visiting Earth’s garden, smiling when you saw flourishing greenery.

You slowly landed by the waterfall you added with Lucifer, his laughter ringing through the air. The wildlife followed you as you made your way over to the sound, your smile brightening when you saw Lucifer’s figure.

“Lucifer!” You shout for him, but the water from the waterfall drowns out your calls. You swiftly moved past all the growing plants before you froze, your heart beating harder with each passing second you watched.

Lilith and Lucifer were in a relationship?

Your heart broke as they parted from the kiss, Lilith tilting her head when she saw you. The animals surrounding you rubbed their heads against your legs in hopes of bringing your attention away from the couple.

Suddenly, Lucifer whipped around, eyes widening at being caught. Especially by you. “Fuck, beautiful—“

“I have to go.” You murmur, wings pushing you away from them.

Tears cascaded down your face as you made it back to Heaven, letting yourself break down when reaching your room’s balcony. The Archangels and Sera heard your curses out to the angel who took your heart and crushed it, frowning at the thought of what you saw.

They soon figured out the cause of your heartbreak, meaning the Angelic Council needed to make a crucial decision about the souls. With you swaying the final decision.

Lucifer watched you from where he stood with Lilith, knowing you would never look his way ever again.

“The Angelic Council voted unanimously,” Sera spoke with a delicate voice, hidden poison underneath. “You are both sentenced to Hell, becoming fallen to those in Heaven.”

You refused to look up from the papers in front of you, listening intently to your sister’s words. The whispers in the back of your head get louder as you hear Lucifer protest…

“ENOUGH.” Sera boomed her voice in the room, making you flinch. “It will be effective immediately.”

Lucifer looks back toward you, finally meeting your eyes. And for the first time, he saw guilt and anger emitting from you. He knew you loved him, but thought it didn’t mean anything until now.

Maybe one day I can learn to love you, too…

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vampsywrites · 11 months

Text

a protector

synopsis: after your acceptance into the omaticaya clan, neteyam takes you to utraya mokri (the tree of voices)

tags: fluffyy, aged up! neteyam (18-19), neteyam pining hard, reader being a tease, neteyam playing hard to get only to end up jealous someone help him

a/n: neteyam is just his mother cloned fight me/j also, in this au the tree of voices was not destroyed

w.c: 0.7k

The luminescent flora seemed to come alive, painting the surroundings in a mystical hue. Intrigued, your fingers extend towards the nearest tree, cautiously exploring its glistening trunk. Neteyam observes your genuine curiosity with a warm smile, appreciating the reverence you show for this sacred place.

Underfoot, a bed of moss glows faintly. Peals of laughter slips from your lips as you see it react to your footsteps with expanding rings of light.

"This is a place for prayers to be heard," Neteyam's voice barely rose above a hushed murmur as he gently led you towards the center of mesmerizing bioluminescent willow trees. "And sometimes, Eywa answers."

"It's beautiful," you gasp out breathlessly, delving deeper into the heart of this sacred wilderness. Neteyam faithfully follows like a lost puppy, his gaze fixed intently upon your back. After taking a moment to immerse yourself in the enchanting surroundings, you finally turn your attention back to him.

"Is there a specific reason you brought me here?" you inquire, although a part of you already senses the significance behind this meet-up.

As your gaze lands on Neteyam, you take note of his refined attire, a welcome change from his usual rugged warrior-like style.

Tonight, he stands tall and proud, his frame accentuated by the elaborate ceremonial garb he wears. Woven green bands, expertly crafted, encircle his firm biceps as its vibrant hues shimmer in the dappled light filtering through the canopy. Further down, your gaze is drawn to the beaded garment gracing his waist, adorned by carved wooden beads and shining gems.

The warrior fakes a coughs, turning around to brush his fingers through one of the draping tendrils." You are Omaticaya now. You are one of the people. Which means you may make your own bow from the wood of Hometree."

Neteyam pauses for a moment, his gaze flickering briefly towards you before retreating back to the ground. "And… you may choose a mate."

Amusement dances in your eyes as you watch him struggle to maintain a casual façade, trying hard not to glance back at you.

"Is that so?" you playfully respond, pretending not to understand the implications. Neteyam nods with his back still turned from you.

"Ao'sun is a skilled weaver," Neteyam murmurs softly, his voice scarcely above a whisper, "He is one of our best."

The willow trees sway gently as a cool breeze sweeps through the forest. You step closer to him until you are flush against his side, feeling the warmth of his body against your own. "I don't want Ao'sun," you say, your tone teasing yet sincere.

Neteyam swallows hard, his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips as he tries to process your words. "Natiro is a very skilled crafter," he stammers, attempting to divert the conversation.

"Indeed," you agree, a cheeky smile tugging at the corners of your lips, "He is."

A flicker of jealousy sparks in Neteyam's eyes, momentarily betraying his composure. He tries to conceal his inner turmoil, but his clenched jaw and the sudden tension in his posture give him away. The admission of other potential suitors stirs an unexpected wave of possessiveness within him.

You sense the shift in his demeanor, your cheeky smile widening ever so slightly. Chuckling, you lean in closer, your voice a soft whisper against his ear.

"But, I don't want him. There is someone else who has captivated me," you confess, your voice filled with affection. "A certain protector of mine. And he is not just anyone; he is a mighty warrior. One who has become incredibly dear to me."

Neteyam's lips part, but no words escape. Instead, he shakily reaches out, his large hand tenderly cupping your cheek, his touch gentle yet dominating. In that moment, the jungle around you seems to hold its breath. The willow trees swaying in anticipation, their whispered rustle echoing the tender exchange.

With a knowing smile, you gently place your hand atop Neteyam's, intertwining your fingers with his. "Ma'teyam, it has always been you," you affirm, your voice filled with assurance. "Your strength, your loyalty, your, at times, overbearing protectiveness and the way you make me feel…"

Neteyam's eyes shimmer with a depth of emotion. Wasting no time, he sweeps you into his strong arms, pressing his lips against yours, igniting a flame of desire that courses through your entire being. Once your lips separate, a comfortable silence fills the air, interrupted only by the sound of your pants.

taglist: @avatarmasterlistblog

"Ma'teyam," you smile up at him, "I choose you."

#💫—vampsywrites #avatar #avatarimagine #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader #writing #fanfiction #neteyam imagine #avatar imagine #avatar fanfiction #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x reader

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ladybirdswritings · 4 months

Text

Bound - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: Miguel O’Hara was never known to be a man wanting. He was beyond content with the power surging through him upon his multiversal throne. That is until he lays his hungry eyes upon you. Now, he will do whatever it takes just for the taste of you… dark!miguel x reader fic. very steamy as always <3

Notes: I couldn’t stop myself from this hades and persephone-esque fic so I hope you enjoy!! SW&P is far lighter if you desire that <3

next chap

one

Morning is a sweet greeting to you, warm and incandescent to shine it’s rays upon soft skin. As it always is. Though you find it to be dreary on days like this, as it is the same as the day prior, and the day prior to that day. As if it is not sparkling gold but shadowing gray.

All the same repetitive waltz for you.

Yet to your unknowing mind, much would change within the quick hour. Change not in the way of little things but rather in the way that would make your toes curl and your eager hands grab your tresses so you might not trip upon them on your dash toward the tallest hills.

You would have run had you known what was to come.

Yet you didn’t; and so? Your morning was quite a bore.

Similar to a zombie are your sunken cheeks and coffee kissed eyes decorated with awful bags. Your toothbrush is made of oak as is your boar-bristled comb. You tend to your prettying before slipping away from the hustle and bustle of a lively home. Four sisters and two brothers you sport, and an overbearing woman you dare to call your mother.

You made routine of this. Sneaking away with the latest print picked up from the small shop next to the apothecary in town. Out the oak wood door and past the burnt toast and meat to cuddle yourself comfortably against your favored weeping willow by the bend.

Your only company is the ducklings these days, though you don’t mind them much. They are mostly quiet beyond the occasional quack.

Serenity became you as you lay there in the remnants of springtime’s shadow, willfully sprouted in peonies and lilac blossoms.

Your print is a work of Austen, an old and worn thing but one you’d found comfort in recently. It would be your fourth time revisiting.

Would… however.

“Oh heavens sakes! You must enjoy making your mother walk upon tousled soil, girl! Have you got half a mind!? I don’t presume so otherwise you’d avoid any possibility of me losing a leg!”

A whine like that of a carnaged cat rings out from behind the bend. In the grassy plains your mother struggles her way toward you. You stand to your feet in swift motion, but your wandering eye finds curiosity in an unfamiliar bloom. Its colors an odd pairing of red and blue unfurled toward the sun.

What an odd thing, you think.

The huffing and puffing snaps your attention center, and you nearly grumble in complaint as you hurry toward your mother.

“Mama I was just—”

“Oh save it. I see you slip out each morning, I know full well your disdain for the company of your own family… but I didn’t come here to admonish you, sweet girl. Quite the opposite in fact. I am here to ask a favor of you. It seems the cold air has made our chickens most unwilling to provide us with eggs. Won’t you go in town and gather some?”

Like the rainfall’s mist caught by breath of wind, your hopes and plans of reading in the bend till dawn have dissipated. Pursing your lips, you nod— not wanting to administer a guaranteed headache at wake of your protest.

In to town you’ll venture.

✧*̥˚ … *̥˚✧

The cobblestone is cracked underneath your boot, as it is dampened by springtime’s departured mist. You like the clicking sound, though it is most lonesome at this ungodly hour.

The house cannot be run well with lack of your aid. Father left long ago and mother is just a dreadful housewife. The doctor blames her dissonance on the ailments within her mind’s confines though— she swears herself always to be whole and well.

Regardless, for the sake of your sisters— you help. Besides this, you owe it to her.

Your basket is made of weaved wicker and adorned with crimson cloth, at the end of the cobble is where life shines proud. A more lively gathering of townsfolk in search of early morning eggs to enjoy with their breakfast.

A single carriage, outdated as the things are, surges forward in an unstable command by a young man. He cannot be past twenty three, and his face is speckled with pale freckles. His hair is a burnt orange rasp.

The stallions are dark as midnight, sweat being huffed like chimney smoke from their nostrils. Dear god, the way he commands them is certain to ensure an accident.

You tuck the thought away in to the back of your mind to be focused upon your task. You’ll need no more than a dozen or perhaps three what with the vacuum cleaner your eldest brother refers to as his mouth.

Babblebrooke, it is where you’ve lived most your orphaned life. Surely some places have technology of picture books and magazines you skim through when you are awarded the rare chance but— you find yourself content with a place so simple.

You cannot imagine a life of loudness, no quiet space to tuck away and read. It’s a frightening thought.

The stand is nearby, only a few more passing steps and you’ll reach it. Your eyes are locked on the fresh berries, but you know full well you won’t have enough for them.

A bark startles you out of your trance, one excited and pointed. You jump at the sound and turn your head to find a cocker spaniel hound circling round and round to chase its own tail. You giggle at the sight, and its chestnut ears raise in alarm at the vibration.

Oh, it’s noticed you.

The little thing hobbles over excitedly, and you cannot help but bend on your knee to brush back its silken locks.

Beyond a canvas collar of pale pink lays a heart, engraved in molten silver the title: “Lyla.”

So she belongs to someone. Such a kind thing, they are to be a lucky companion indeed.

You smooth back the hair from her excited eyes before lifting to your feet again and continuing forward. She begins to follow you, but a movement in the alleyway shadows is a matter she finds far more pressing for her attention.

“Lyla…” you test in a whisper as you make your way behind a man hunched and gray— awaiting his eggs for breakfast.

Time seems agonizing and the line moves awfully slow, you peek behind the elder man to find annoyance laced in the eyes of the townsfolk. Blaire has taken a liking to the farm boy— it seems she’s busying herself with conversing nonsense with his mother rather than picking her fresh fruits for tart pastries.

You sigh, checking the time on your cracked, golden watch with impatience brewing at the soles of your boots. You sway on them, shifting your weight forward and back. No use just staring ahead.

Though it is quite loud, it doesn’t stop you from reaching in to your tote for “Jane Eyre.”

You find your favorite part, their first midnight meeting in the hallway. How romantic it is, you only wish that to be a possibility for you one day. You forbid yourself from joining the season of course but somewhere tucked away inside— you wonder how marvelous it would be for a broody and handsome thing to appear upon your doorstep with a bouquet the size of France.

You grin at the thought. Though it is swiftly interrupted by the quick patter of familiar paws.

“Woah! Easy!”

Your head snaps up at the gasps of those around you, and you are most horrified to see that the horses have reached the steep bend mere steps away. The ginger fool, they halt in warning and he kicks at them— slapping them with a russet pole. They comply, and the carriage loses control.

It creaks, hurling forward and disconnecting from its rusted shell. Tumbling at godspeed down the cobble and straight for little Lyla who lays mindlessly and happily on her back now.

Panic surges, and your eyes find worry in everyone’s features and yet no motive to act alongside it. Such cowardly men, allowing the poor thing to succumb to the bite of freak nature and cruel fate.

You won’t allow it. Though you feel frozen, the sharp and desperate shout of “Lyla!” from a phantom voice is enough to snap you back into the most horrible moment present.

“Christ!” You breathe, tossing Jane Eyre to the sapphire sky before surging forward. The carriage stalls on a pebble for a quick moment and it’s enough time for you to beat it by a mere step. You scoop the silly thing into your arms and as the wheel just grazes your skin— it is you now that is saved from immediate death.

A warm hand tugs at your wrist and you’re certain the brick wall has grown awfully large palms and fingers; for what you slam up against is hard and unpleasant.

You grunt, Lyla yelping in surprise where she is tucked up tightly against your chest.

Whistles and claps overtake the coward crowd and you sway upon your own boots as the wind itself makes you unsteady with its light graze. Firm palms steel you, grasping your shoulders tight to keep you together and well.

Your eyes venture on an upward path to find two crimson pupils imploring your features as if they are etched in stone and stored away in a beloved museum somewhere in Rome.

Brows pinched and quite bushy, eyes cold but curious, his reddened orbs search your face for what feels like a millennium. Fascinated.

Awed.

You blink, and the cry of the sweet creature in your arms breaks the trance you were entangled in. Lyla leaps from your arms and onto the cobble path— and you only huff and reach a weak arm toward her before the exhaustion of a skipped meal and your adrenaline fueled actions bring you to sit on the cobble ground.

He kneels beside you, the stranger. Yet you cannot find yourself mustering enough energy to truly examine his face. Just his eyes, rare things they are.

“She’ll be alright.” He whispers, hands still pleasantly upon your shoulders as if he fears you’ll topple over and shatter once he parts.

When you do lift your gaze however, stricken curious by the sickly silken sound of his voice, he’s gone.

“Thank y-”

The word croaks in your throat, and you can only wonder how it was possible… how quickly the phantom left you upon the cobble. The farm boy rushes over soon, much to the demise of poor Blaire. She stares on at the carriage and ginger man as if she wishes it was her nearly trampled.

He hands you fresh water and berries, and you wave his concern away and the crowd’s curiosity with a weak hand.

Your mind is only glued upon one thing.

The phantom.

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @tabalittlelong @iitangerine @queenb27sblog-blog @dprmooni @neptunieesworld @cyd2301 @amelialysm @justanothers-things @heartfeltlonging @coralreefses @knightowl019 @cybersry

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luegoshippeo · 1 year

Text

Like mother like daughter 2

“The design began with her mother’s costume from the original movie. Young took inspiration from Sorsha’s corseted belt and shoulder armor, giving Kit a waist cinching belt and attached shoulder piece as a modernized version.”

It’s the shoulder piece and the corseted belt, but also the black themed outfit, the arrows and of course, the sword

From: https://www.lucasfilm.com/news/costume-designer-sarah-young-willow-interview-part-2/

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onestopfanficshop · 1 year

Text

all the time in the world

pairing: tsu'tey x fem!avatar reader

word count: 4k (oops)

warnings: kissing, unprotected p in v sex (are there condom-equivalents on pandora?), fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), bit of overstimulation, description of reader’s hair length, miscommunication trope if you squint

summary: after three months on pandora with jake, neytiri, and tsu’tey, you finally complete your iknimaya. during your night of celebration, you gather up the courage to tell tsu’tey how you feel.

translations || tìyawn: love

oel ngati kameie: i see you

nga yawne lu oer: you are beloved to me

gif not mine!

"Tsu'tey!" you complain, dragging out the last vowels of his name. You had no idea where this man was taking you. He had dragged you away from your own party, for crying out loud. The clan was celebrating a successful hunt, as well as you for completing your Iknimaya shortly after Jake did. A night filled with music and laughter, and lots and lots of dancing. Another victory chant had just started, and Tsu'tey saw it as the perfect opportunity to steal you away for a moment. You just had no idea why. In fact, you're so caught up in what could possibly be the reason why that you trip over a root, nearly face planting on the forest floor. Not even three months of living practically full-time on Pandora could get rid of your inherent clumsiness.

Tsu'tey whipped his head back, ears standing up in alarm then flattening in annoyance as he saw you nearly lose your balance. You craned your neck up to look at the tree that the offending root belonged to, and patted its trunk apologetically.

Tsu'tey hissed quietly, walking to where you stood. "You are always getting yourself into trouble, hm? Try to stay close to me," he scolded, suddenly grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him. You’re shocked by the gesture, nearly forgetting to protest because your mind is occupied with the sensation of Tsu'tey's large hand enveloping yours.

"This is…totally unnecessary," you huff, although you make no move to let go of his hand. "I mean, where are you even taking me–"

You cut yourself off when you set sight on the majestic tree glowing vibrantly in front of you. You were positive that you had never been to this part of the forest–there's no way you would've overlooked this. The tree stood tall and inviting, with dozens of atokirina’ seeds floating in between its thin, droopy branches. It looked like a bioluminescent version of the willow trees that you studied back on Earth. You let go of his hand to push further through the leaves, cautiously reaching out to touch a drooping branch and delighting in how it glowed in response.

“This is the Tree of Voices,” he explained. “We can hear the voices of our ancestors here. If you connect to it, you can listen to them.”

You turned back to look at him, eyes slightly wide in surprise. “This must be very sacred,” you said, looking up in wonder at the glowing branches.

“Yes, it is,” he replied, taking note of the way you looked around in awe at everything.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to let me see it. It’s beautiful.” You gave him a soft smile.

“You know, there was a time where I did not trust you at all, " he said in an amused tone.

“I'm aware,” you replied, chuckling.

“Besides, you are Omaticaya now,” he continued. “It is only fair that you get to see it. And you will need to make yourself a bow, from the wood of the Hometree.” He pauses, parting some leaves out of the way so he can move a little closer to you. “And you may choose a mate.”

“A mate?” you ask, ears flicking back in curiosity.

“Yes… we have many strong warriors for you to choose from. I know Ozä is looking for a mate. He is particularly skilled,” he says pensively.

“Ozä?” you repeat, furrowing your brows. “I mean, he is a great warrior. But he’s not the one I want.”

“Oh? So you have already chosen?” Tsu’tey questions. His expression remains entirely neutral, but you catch the way his ears flick up and his tail swishes behind him.

“Um… yes, I suppose I have,” you admit. Shit. You’ve already sort of blown your cover. Might as well tell him how you felt—it was now or never.

“He’s a strong warrior as well. The strongest in the whole clan, actually. And he taught me everything that I know, about the way of the people. He taught me… how to see. How to give, not to take. I owe it all to him,” you say timidly.

“The person you are describing… it sounds very much like me,” Tsu’tey replied cautiously.

"I know," you said sheepishly, letting out a nervous giggle. His gaze was so intense; it was heavy and unrelenting and focused solely on you. You couldn't bring yourself to maintain eye contact, so you looked shyly at the bioluminescent moss at your feet.

"I know that we had our differences at first, and we argued a lot. But I grew… I grew to care for you," you admitted quietly, toying with a floating atokirina’ seed. "And I hope I'm not wrong in assuming that… well, maybe…maybe you grew to care for me, too," you said hesitantly. Your voice went up at the end of the sentence like you were asking a question, and you mentally kicked yourself for sounding so insecure. What if he didn’t feel the same way? You’re positive you would evaporate on the spot if he rejected you.

But a shadow casted over the ground you were staring down at. You looked up to see Tsu’tey standing right in front of you. You couldn’t make out the expression that was in his eyes at the moment.

“No,” he said.

“No?” you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady.

Fuck. You should’ve known better. After all, Tsu’tey was the best warrior in the clan, and surely there were plenty of other eligible women lining up to be with him. Neytiri was promised to him before she mated with Jake, and she was the tsahìk’s daughter, for crying out loud. Tsu’tey had practically hated you from the moment you set foot on Pandora, but you two had finally gotten to a place where you could tolerate each other. You might even dare to call yourself friends. But now you had gone and ruined it by confessing your unreciprocated feelings to him like a lovesick teenager. Your face dropped, and your heart dropped even further.

“Wait,” Tsu’tey said quickly, registering the expression on your face. “I meant to say no, as in, you were not wrong to assume that. To assume that I had grown to care for you.”

“Wha- really?” you said in disbelief, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Yes. I know you may not think so, but you taught me as well. It is true I hated the Sky People. But that was before I knew you. You taught me that it is not the body that matters; it is the spirit. It would be the honor of a lifetime to protect you until I take my last breath," he said. He slowly raised a hand to cup one side of your face, as if he was afraid you’d run away at his touch. You didn’t.

“If you will have me,” he continued quietly.

"Yes," you replied automatically, raising a hand to hold the one that was on your face.

"Yes?" Tsu'tey said, unable to hide the small smile that came to his face.

"Yes," you whispered again, letting out a breathless little laugh. You leaned in to rest your forehead on his. His pupils were dilated, and in the violet light emanating from the Tree of Voices, they almost looked animated. God, he was so close. If you just leaned forward a bit, you could–

It was almost as if Tsu'tey could read your mind, because his lips met yours before you could even finish your thought. It was hungry and greedy, his hands finding purchase on either side of your hips. Just the feeling of his fingertips on your skin made your stomach flutter, and when he dug his fingers in a little harder, you let out a sound that was somewhere between a whine and a moan. He moved to press his body against yours as his hands moved up to tangle in your hair. He tugged at it, trying to move impossibly closer to you, accidentally loosening it from the braided hairstyle that Neytiri had painstakingly put it into earlier. Your hair cascaded down your shoulders as Tsu'tey pulled away, hands moving to cup both sides of your face. His breathing had quickened, and he was looking at you in a way that made your legs want to turn into jelly.

"Is this…alright?" Tsu'tey asked breathlessly, thumbs caressing your cheekbones.

"Yes," you whisper. Your hands come up to hold both of his wrists. "It's more than alright. It's amazing."

Tsu’tey smiled at your statement—a full, genuine smile that had his razor-sharp canines on display, stretching across the expanse of his entire face. He untangled his arms from yours and sat down on the soft moss, tugging on your wrist to signal for you to do the same. He reached around his back and grabbed the braid protecting his kuru, and you took it as a sign to do the same. Tsu’tey moved his kuru closer and closer to yours, and you held your breath in anticipation, looking at him with eyes full of nothing but trust and curiosity. The tendrils swayed until they connected, and then…

Oh.

The amount of sensations that you felt all at once nearly overwhelmed you, causing you to shudder. Much to your surprise and delight, you could feel everything that Tsu’tey is feeling. You felt the breeze blowing at his ankles, and the dull ache of his fingers digging into his palm as his breathing got heavier. You felt like you had a sudden jolt of energy, and the only thing you wanted to do was spend it on Tsu’tey.

“Tsu’tey,” you gasped, your fingers tugging at his shoulders to pull him closer to you. “I need…”

“I know,” he said in a choked whisper.

His strong arms wrapped around the entirety of your waist, pulling you up so that you were taller than him, standing up on your knees. He took advantage of his lower position to plant kisses at the junction between your jaw and your neck, causing you to let out a quiet moan. Your own hands were not idle, roaming down the expanse of his defined chest, all the way down to his impossibly toned abdomen. When you snaked your arms around to drag your nails down his back, he shivered a little.

“Yawne,” he groaned. In the haze that Tsu'tey had your brain in, the translation managed to come to mind: Beloved. Your heart skipped a beat.

He pulled at the necklace connected to the intricately beaded top that Neytiri had gifted to you after you completed your Iknimaya. The beads were stunning; woven in the shape of a spiraling flower, they had a metallic look to them, beautifully capturing and reflecting the light from the Tree of Voices.

“If I had known that you felt the way I did… I would have courted you properly. I regret not having done so,” Tsu’tey said, absentmindedly tugging at your top but not quite taking it off.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, looking down at him and moving your hand to hold both sides of his face. “We have each other now. That’s all that matters.”

His ears flicked up at this, and you found it so adorable that you couldn’t help but smile. He looked down at where his finger was hooked on your top, then back up at you, as if asking for permission to take it off. When you eagerly nodded your head yes, he wasted no time, exposing your bare chest to the forest breeze. You suddenly felt shy, wanting to move to cover yourself. You weren’t sure what the difference would be between your Avatar body and that of a regular Na’vi woman. You hoped that your boobs weren’t too big or too small or too weird-looking. But all of that doubt washed away when Tsu’tey buried his face in your chest, planting wet kisses all over and paying special attention to your nipples. You couldn’t help the lewd moan that escaped from your lips, spine arching as you pushed yourself closer to him. Emboldened by your response, he continued his path down your torso, noting how your breathing hitched with every time his lips met your hot skin.

“You are divine,” Tsu’tey breathed against your skin, looking up at you with lustful eyes.

“Says you,” you replied smiling, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

He finally reached your tweng where he paused, looking up at you hesitantly.

“We do not have to—“ he started.

“No,” you interrupted swiftly, cutting him off. “I want to. Please, I—I want you,” you breathe, a bit whiner than you intended to sound.

Now it was Tsu’tey that couldn’t help smiling. You reclined back on your forearms on the moss as he took off his tweng first, then helped you with yours. After he took off his battle band and his neck piece, you were both laid bare before each other. Your right hand pressed to his chest, and you could feel how quickly his heart was beating. He cradled your face in his hand with a sort of restrained reverence, as if he was afraid to touch you further.

Sensing his hesitance, you grabbed his hand in what you hoped wasn’t a bold move, and dragged it down further and further until it was right at the cusp of your wet folds. Tsu’tey seemed to get the message then. His eyes stayed glued to yours, slipping a testing finger inside you. You let out a sharp little exhale, your back coming off the forest floor in response to his touch. He took this as encouragement, moving his thumb to circle around your clit and slipping another finger inside of you. That got you. One of your hands shot up to grab one of Tsu’tey’s impossibly toned biceps as your eyes snapped shut, brows furrowing together.

“Tsu’tey, I need—I want…,” you gasped, bucking your hips to try and add more friction to his movements.

“What is it, tìyawn? Tell me, and I will give it to you,” he said huskily. He was half a world away, eyes heavy as he watched his fingers move in and out of you.

“More,” you managed to get out.

In a surprise move, he took his fingers out of you, arms hooking up to grab your hips and tug you down. You let out a shocked gasp as Tsu’tey lowered himself near your aching cunt. His eyes flicked up to yours hungrily–only for a split second–before he buried his face in between your legs. Moans tumbled from your lips as his tongue worked his magic on you, swirling and sucking at your clit until you were seeing stars. You had to thread your fingers through his braids to ground yourself; otherwise, you were afraid you’d float up to heaven and never come back.

“Tsu’tey, please don’t stop, don’t you dare stop,” you mumbled, barely coherent. You were speaking gibberish now, a mix between English, some Na’vi, and moaning, but mostly, you just repeated Tsu’tey’s name over and over.

He paused his actions only for a second to look up at you, his mouth and chin shiny with your slick. The sight had you biting back a smile.

“You are very demanding, you know that?” he said, grinning and pressing a chaste kiss to the burning skin of your thigh.

You huffed out a laugh, tugging lightly at his braids. “Shut up and keep going,” you retorted breathlessly. Tsu’tey’s ears flick up at this, and his eyes glinted mischievously as he looked you up and down.

“As you wish,” he said lowly. He resumed his assault on your clit, hands moving up to hold both of your breasts and play with your nipples. Whimpering, you closed your fingers over his hands. You came undone seconds after, and if this were any other moment where you were the slightest bit concerned about your dignity, you would have thought it was an embarrassingly short amount of time. But right now, all you could focus on was squeezing your hands around Tsu'tey's as you reached the peak of your climax. Tsu’tey watched your contorted features, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead, and your parted lips, and decided right then and there that you had never looked more beautiful. You were panting, trying to get your breathing down to a normal rate when you finally caught his eye. They had a sort of amused look in them, and with you still giddy from your orgasm, you let out a giggle.

“What?” Tsu’tey asked, half-grinning as he gingerly tucked some hair behind your ear that had gotten in your face.

“Nothing, I just—that felt really good. You make me feel good.”

“I do?” he asked, quirking his lips at you.

“Mhm,” you replied. Your eyes drifted down to the space where his cock was, already hard and throbbing. Without thinking, you grabbed it, and his reaction was instant. He gasped, shuddering as he looked down at where your hand was pumping him, and then back up to your face.

“I need to—can we…?” Tsu’tey stuttered, swallowing hard as his eyes fluttered shut. You understood him well enough, though, and you lined him up so that his tip was at your entrance. You moved your hands to hold his face, looking between both of his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “Go ahead.”

Slowly, without taking his gaze off of you for a second, Tsu’tey pushed into you with the utmost care. You kissed all along his jaw and his throat as he continued on until he bottomed out, rewarding your ears with a low, throaty groan when he did. He began to move at an agonizingly slow pace, restraint evident as he tried to give you time to get accustomed to his size. Each drag of his thick cock had you biting your tongue from whining at the overstimulation. But even though you were still hyper-sensitive from your orgasm, you desperately wanted him to fuck you with full force, for him to come the same way he made you come. You wanted to make him feel as good as he made you feel.

“Tsu’tey, I want you to go faster,” you pleaded, staring straight into his golden eyes. “Can you do that for me?”

He slowed down, dick twitching inside of you. “Are you sure, yawne?”

“I have never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” you whispered. That was all the reassurance he needed. With a few warning thrusts, he began to pound into you. The force of it had you breathless, and the only thing grounding you was his hands, which were holding you down firmly on either side of your lower abdomen.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whined, your fingers taking hold on his biceps once more. “Please don’t stop. I need you.”

Tsu’tey could only respond by whispering curses in Na'vi that you vaguely recognized from your training with Neytiri. You could sense his restraint dissipating, thrusts becoming sloppy and arrhythmic as he felt your walls gripping him impossibly tight. Your head turned over to the side, where you caught sight of where the two of you were still joined by your neural queues. Carefully, you slid your hand under your conjoined braids so that it rested on top of your palm. Tsu’tey took one of his hands and closed it over yours, and you squeezed his hand gently. That seemed to be enough to drive him over the edge. He let go of your hand and pulled you up to a sitting position so that your chest was flush against his, and you raised your arms up to wrap around his neck, holding him in a tight embrace. A few more thrusts and then he groaned, suddenly going still, and a soft moan escaped from your lips as you realized that he was coming inside of you. Your fingers wrapped around the nape of his neck, stroking the skin there as he got in a few more lazy pumps, desperately trying to ride out his high the same way that you did before pulling out. He slumped against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you absentmindedly raked your fingers up and down his back. You could feel his warm breath coming out in little huffs against the skin near your neck, and you could swear you had never felt so content in your life.

“Ma Tsu’tey,” you said softly, feeling him come down from his climax. He looked at you, eyes full with equal parts lust and admiration, which turned to concern upon seeing your watery eyes.

"What is it, tìyawn? Did I hurt you?" he asked worriedly. His hand automatically came up to hold your face, thumbing away at the tears threatening to spill.

"No, no– I just…" you start, letting out a shaky laugh. "I love you, Tsu'tey. More than I can even properly say with words. Oel ngati kameie," you whispered.

"Oel ngati kameie, tìyawn," he whispered back, rubbing soothing shapes on your cheekbone. He paused, eyes dropping down for a moment before looking back up into your own. "Nga yawne lu oer," he said, voice cracking with emotion. Your eyebrows knitted together and raised up, breathless at the vulnerability that Tsu'tey was showing to you right now. Here was a man who went from never letting you see him sweat to confessing his love to you. So you kissed him. You had to. You needed to. And he kissed you back. If you kissed him, he would kiss you back–it was a concept that was so foreign, yet completely familiar, and you reveled in it. It wasn't like the first kiss you shared; this one was sweet and pressing. You weren't in an adrenaline rush; this was the bliss that came after the tides of rapture had breached the shore. It was the type of kiss that said: we have all the time in the world. You pulled away softly, taking time to immortalize Tsu'tey in your mind like this. Happy. At peace. In love.

"Hello," he said quietly with a loopy grin, as if meeting you again for the first time.

"Hi," you whispered back, giggling.

"What next, hm?" he asked, fingers tracing your back soothingly.

"I just want you to hold me, Tsu'tey."

And so he did. He held you, and made out with you some more–he couldn't help himself. You're not entirely sure when you had gotten your clothes back on (you were too high up in your post-orgasm bliss; Tsu'tey would have to tell you later that he's the one who dressed you back up). Time moved slowly, but you loved it that way.

You two had all the time in the world.

You had woken up sometime before dawn, and the bioluminescence from the Tree of Voices had nearly faded by now. You shifted around in your sleep at one point to be on top of Tsu'tey, curled up against his chest. He had one arm wrapped firmly across your waist, while his other hand was resting on top of his knife. Even in his sleep, he was a warrior. You let out a soft snort at the realization before you could stop yourself, rousing Tsu'tey from his slumber. His eyes opened to find yours, going slightly wide before relaxing again, as if he was afraid that last night was just a dream that he made up in his head. But it wasn't. You were real, awake, next to him. And you were smiling at him.

"Sorry for waking you up," you whisper apologetically, craning your neck to look up at him. He groaned quietly in response, merely throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight looming from the horizon. You had to fight back another laugh. Not a morning person. Got it.

"Are you truly sorry? Or did you just want my attention?" he asks playfully, voice delightfully raspy and low from sleep.

"Oh, I don't know," you say, innocently tracing shapes in his chiseled abdomen. "Now that I think about it, maybe I did want your attention."

He laughed a genuine laugh, the kind that you could hear vibrating in his chest and could feel in his shaking shoulders. "Whatever my mate wants, she gets," he replies with a smile, kissing the top of your head.

My mate. My mate.

Yeah, you could get used to that.

ty for reading!

#tsu’tey x reader #tsu’tey x you #tsu’tey smut #tsu'tey x y/n #tsu’tey imagine #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #avatar tsu'tey #tsu’tey

2K notes · View notes

klausysworld · 10 months

Note

Okayyy so i just had a idea and since you are amazinggggg with tvdu fan fiction, thought I might a request😅

Basically, yn is a wolf but for some reason or another, her puppy sized wolf is out of control and so whenever she gets emotional, she slowly starts transforming, like first she will get the ears and like the shift is slow but not painful anymore since it has been happening a lot and she just gets a headache.

Elena's gang except for Tyler and bonnie dislike her and Caroline doesn't have much of an opinion. She is usually a happy person since she is homeschooled so doesn't have to deal with any bullies or anything.

Klaus finds her with teary eyes and her wolf puppy ears out as she tries to stop herself from full on crying.

Klaus takes her in and cares for her and helps her control her wolf side so that her emotions don't control them. At this point, she loves her wolf form so much that Klaus has to scold her and treat her kinda like am actual naughty puppy and he even has a hard time keeping her in human form because she has learned that she can run off in her wolf form and not have to study

-✨

Tamed and trained

Y/n’s parents had always been worried about her. She wasn’t exactly normal, being a werewolf anyways was hard enough let alone a completely out of control one. They assumed there must have been some sort of mutation in the gene system or something similar which caused her to turn at any time, like how only few vampires were rippers and few witches were siphoners.

They had been to the Bennett’s who told them that this had only happened a very rare few times since the first werewolf was created and that she would learn control as she grew.

Of course their first fear was she would be picked on, misunderstood and seen as a monster, so they kept her inside. And then they worried that her werewolf anger would be 10x worse as instead of having emotions heightened on a full moon, hers are 24/7. But it turned out she showed nearly every emotion but anger. But the tears were the worst. As soon as they started falling they knew they needed to hide her asap. The ears would sprout from her head, then the tail and claws, the nose and paws, until she were howling her sorrows for the world to hear.

And gosh did she cry when she was little, always in a puddle of pity and fear of her own shadow.

He parents had pretty much given up with trying to control her. Just locking her in the house and telling her to be quiet while they went out and tried to live like normal people, pretend they didn’t have a daughter that the council would kill to obtain.

When Bonnie grew up they tried to convince her to spell Y/n but Bonnie refused when she saw the fluffy ears a big sad eyes looking back at her.

They tried to have Tyler help her when he broke his curse but he wasn’t sure what to do either other than bond over the experience of being in wolf form.

So she continued to hide inside, only getting out when her parents had gone away, most likely to get drunk and forget their worries.

She knew she was an inconvenience for them but the harder she tried to control herself, the worse it made her feel and then she ended up turning again. She didn’t know how to fix the cycle she was trapped within.

But on that day, her parents had gotten a little too angry at her. Called her a freak and a mistake causing her to run as far as she could on her human legs, praying to god that she wouldn’t turn halfway through a step.

She huddled up to the big willow tree besides the Mystic Park and kept their until dark. Her sniffles were the only sound heard as she wiped her eyes and cheeks.

Her knees dragged to her chest and she rest her chin on top of them as she kept her cries to a minimum, hiccuping as she tried to fully stop.

It was the sound that drew Klaus Mikaelson toward the park that night. His eyes squinted as he spotted a girl in the distance, two large and fluffed ears on her head which twitched very few seconds. His curiosity was peaked and so he approached the source of such sad sounds and crouched before her. His hand slowly touched her knee making her jolt and look up at him alarmed. Immediately smacking the top of her head to make her ears go away making him frown and grab onto her hands

“It’s alright love” he mumbled as she shook her head and tried to squirm out of his hold. He sighed and resorted to picking her up which made her cry again and him to panic. “No no no” he whispered, covering her mouth with his hand and his eyes widening when a tail curled up between her legs and little claws scratched at his arms. “Oh bloody hell” he muttered before speeding her to his home and getting her on the floor just as she turned entirely.

His brows shot up seeing her so small, running around like a lunatic and barking continuously. He blinked in surprise and slowly shut the front door, locking it and walking around the smashed vase and torn painting as she chewed at his brand new sofa cushions with her tail wagging so wildly that her whole body shook.

He made a gradual approach but the second she was in reach, she had darted up the stairs making him sigh and chase her through the house for the next 20 minutes. Having a little too much fun for an almighty hybrid as he tackled a small wolf to his kitchen floor and kept her firmly to his chest until eventually she turned back.

Asleep and completely naked against him. He cautiously lifted her up and brought her to his bed, not wanting her to run off while he slept.

He slipped his boxers up her legs and henley over her head, not without peeking at her lovely little body of course, and quickly stripping to his boxers before tugging the covers over the both and watching her from the other side of the bed. He kept an eye on her for as long as he stayed awake, until the steady beating of her heart sent him to sleep.

When he woke he was entirely on top of her, her big eyes looking up at him as he lifted his head to find her squished beneath him and shoving helplessly at his chest.

He kept quiet and in response so did she, swallowing thickly as she watched him observe her. She didn’t comment as his eyes lingered on her nipples that stood out against the soft material on his top, nor the way his tongue wetted his lips when he studied her legs.

“Do you do that a lot?” He asked just above a whisper when his eyes came back to hers and she nodded with a blush of embarrassment coating her cheeks.

“I don’t mean to” she uttered and he tilted his head ever so slightly

“I wouldn’t have thought you did” he murmured and she kept silent. He thought to himself for a moment before making an unklauslike decision “I think I’ll keep you love” he told her and she opened her mouth to speak but he was already talking again “no arguing, I’ll teach you to control yourself and we’ll see what happens from there okay?”

“But my mother and- and school! I learn at home, I can’t-“

“Do you know who I am love?” He cut her off and she turned her head

“Klaus?” She questioned, having heard of him before when her parents were researching, the mention of him from Tyler and the smell of both vampire and werewolf which twisted together when she lay under him.

“That’s right little wolf, Klaus, now I’ve been alive a very long time, I can teach you much better than any mother could. And besides, your mother would’ve found you before I had if she were worried” he waved it off and she frowned

“She will be…” she whispered and he watched in amazement again as the ears formed at her head. His hand automatically reached out to feel the soft fur against his skin making her lean into him. He could feel the smirk pulling at his face as he calmed her back down

“Oh you’re right love,” he began, seeing her brighten up a little bit in curiosity, “she will puppy, so how about I’ll handle it okay? She’ll let you come here, you want me to help you don’t you?” He manipulated and she immediately fell into it, nodding and laying still under him. Klaus couldn’t help but admire how she looked beneath him, her big round eyes and wolf ears still on display. If emotion was what brought this out in her, he could only imagine how she would howl if he treated her the way he desired.

But he would wait, he needed to get her under control at least a little so that she didn’t destroy his house and hurt herself in the meantime. He didn’t believe she would be able to hurt someone else, especially not purposely but he saw how she basically ran into walls without a care and worried for her own sake.

He snapped out of his thoughts at the whine she produced, confused on his face before he realised his knee was inbetween both her legs and she had almost definitely never been touched like that. One because of her little wolf issue, and two because she clearly had a lack of time outside her home just based off how afraid she was outside and then looking in wonder at simple objects in his home. Not that it was an issue for him, the more unaware she was in general, the better. She would be easier to tame if he could train a fresh mind.

And she was just that, a breathe of fresh air.

Simple and appreciative. No matter how small a thing he did for her, she was smiling brightly with her tail wagging and ears up. Whether it be a new bookmark or a diamond bracelet.

He remembers when he told her she could decorate her own room, he had never seen someone get so excited so fast. The room looked completely out of place, the rest of the mansion was relatively dark and gloomy but her space was bright but soft, calming in a way instead of tense.

He loved how she was like that, calming. Whenever he was having an awful day, there she was in his lap, ears up and a book in her hands that he had ‘assigned’ her to read for her ‘schoolwork’. She seemed to have at least her ears out all the time, especially when he touched her, just a hand on her leg would have her tail wagging and he couldn’t find it in himself to make her stop.

But he found that if he did tell her to put them away, it was the only way she would do so.

He had found her in tears over two star crossed lovers in a book she had gotten from her personal library, a gift from him of course, and watched as she struggled to calm herself down. But the second he used a commanding tone on her to put the canine features away, they were gone and she was whimpering quite literally like a puppy being told off.

He found that he had more control over her wolf than she did. And he loved it, she was his good girl, his little puppy to play with and look after.

She kept his bed warm when he was gone and made his heart swell when he was there.

He loved seeing her so freely running around in her wolf form, finally able to control where she was going and what she was thinking as she chased the birds and and spun around to get his attention. Only issue was when she gained more control, he seemed to lose some. And she was quick to tease him, running circles around him and nipping at his ankles when he was busy, having him chase after her because she had taken his phone or worse: the white oak stake. Of course she didn’t understand the importance but to her it was a game and she wanted him to play too.

He understood her mindset of course and she was completely entertaining for him but it was a pain to have to hunt her down every time he needed her to practice her school work.

He would always remember the first time he turned to chase her down. The surprise in her eyes when she skidded to a halt and looked up at him. He must’ve been nearly 10 times bigger than her and although she should probably have been terrified, she yipped happily and darted for the tree line. He shook his head before following after the flash of grey and brown that weaves through the woods, ultimately pinning her down and bringing her home before claiming his prize for winning the game.

The prizes varied greatly, sometimes he got a kiss on the cheek from her, sometimes he would get to sink his teeth into her sweet skin, sometimes he would just lay with her, y/n on the other hand got very different prizes, on the rare occasion that she won he found himself wearing a face mask and cucumber on his eyes as she giggled and held his hand.

Whatever she did, whether she were human or a little wolf, he kept her happy and hidden from the rest of the world but this time she didn’t feel like a disappointment, she felt adored.

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hoony2k · 3 months

Text

BLOSSOM WITH YOU

"WILL YOU PLEASE GET DOWN FROM THERE?"

SUMMARY: Curiosity gifts you with more than what you bargained for and it's up to your knight to change his scout boy ways to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart and place them back together.

PAIRING- Knight! lee heeseung x reader

GENRE- fluff, angst with comfort, period drama!, royalty au!, friends to lovers au!

WARNINGS- tears, heeseung is love sick, mentions of familial neglect.

WORD COUNT- 2193 words

NOTE- hi i'm still unsure whether or not I like the current formatting and I doubt I will ever settle. (formally) my first oneshot let's go!!

masterlist

Being the youngest out of three prominent siblings was all you had been ever since birth. The eldest two sons fought for the throne and the third would busy herself with matters of the court. All your efforts to be like them, to be seen, to be regarded as important were discouraged, for you were "too young" and "naïve" to comprehend the cruelty of the real world that your family tried to shield you from.

Sometimes you would wonder how their life would be had your mother died before birthing you. Would there be a drastic change? However, unfortunately, the queen gave birth and then retired from all her royal and motherly duties of love and nurture, leaving you to the care of ladies in waiting while she pursued her true dream to travel the world. Sometimes you hated her for leaving you alone with no hesitance. Sometimes you hated yourself for disliking the woman for doing what gave her joy. Sometimes you wish you found what gave you joy.

Lee Heeseung.

A knight assigned to protect you and quite literally a knight in shining armour because he salvaged you from your dark past. Heeseung was your closest friend, even if he complained about blurring the lines between duty and friendship, you did not care because Heeseung saw you. He saw you, unlike your true blood relatives.

"Will you please get down from there?", the young man questioned once more.

You granted him silence from where you sat, perched between two branches of a willow tree in the lavish royal garden. The hems of your dress were drenched in mud water, your shoes ragged and your pristine white leggings were stained brown. The branch was not at all comfortable like your cushioned bed but it had to do. Ever since you met Heeseung, this was the first time you truly wanted to be alone.

Though, he could not allow that because he was ordered to be with you at all times. Stationed outside your bedroom door at night and morning, checking the temperature of your bath and waiting outside the bathroom while trusted women bathed you, then he would be taste-testing your food when you visited the city- all of these things were listed in his job description as your knight.

But as your friend, there was no way he could leave you in this feral condition. His heart clenched when he observed the small scratches on your hands, a product of your past actions of poorly, yet succeeding, in climbing the tree. A thin sheen of water laced your pretty eyes and clung to your lashes whenever you blinked. The urge to wipe your tears away with his thumb and cradle your face made Heeseung swallow cotton because, no, there was no way he could do that. Threading the line of duty and friendship was already nerve-wracking enough, he could never allow himself to imagine himself with you.

"If it is to your comfort…may I join you?" Heeseung finally spoke.

Like a heartbroken child, you kicked your feet in the air and stomped in anger.

"I want to be left alone," your response was harsh but your tone was softer than a petal. The last thing you wanted was to let your impulse hurt the one person who truly adored you. Fortunately, it did nothing to steer Heeseung's ambition.

"I am here for you, as a friend".

The sincerity in his voice made you pause your actions. You leaned to see his face. He gazed up at you like you were a twinkling star far out of reach.

You nodded slowly.

He understood you and as humiliating as it was, Heeseung climbed the tree within minutes. It had taken you a massive amount of time during which you struggled and slipped and scratched yourself.

He was warm by your side, his pristine uniform was wrinkled yet spotless, unlike your attire.

The anger fuelled inside your heart slowly dimmed and all you were left with was stuck in a puddle of shame.

You sniffed and wiped a tear that escaped without permission.

"Did you overhear them as well?"

Despite your efforts, your voice wavered. Heeseung's heart shattered into tiny fragments. He wanted to ease your burden but he could not bear lying to you.

It was his turn to be ashamed. Neither of the two could face one another so he mimicked you and hardened his gaze on his hands, slack in his lap.

"Yes."

You let out a tiny whimper and he wanted to fling himself off the tree and fall on his head so all the memories thirty minutes prior would be forgotten but refrained from doing so. He sat quietly and waited for you to process everything.

Heeseung had never experienced the heartbreak you had currently undergone. His family life was simple and plain. Born to farmers who had great expectations for their son who was chosen by the royal knights to safeguard you after he completed his courses and missions successfully, came first in everything.

You, on the other hand, had a more nuanced life that only weighed on your soul. An hour or so ago, he saw you enter the kitchen halls for a bite but you had hesitated at the entrance, enamoured by the discussion taking place inside. He peeked between the large ajar doors and eavesdropped with you- then he regretted it.

Heeseung had tried to pull you away but you had inherited your stubborn qualities from Her Highness. You had paid no heed to his gentle grip on your sleeve and continuous tugging.

The domestic workers spoke of your birth as if it were a mere campfire story meant to entertain the new staff. It made him sick. It made you realise you knew nothing of your family. They were strangers to you.

"The queen was willing to give it up for adoption, but the court said it would tarnish the royal's reputation," the head of staff retold, " I think they wanted another son."

An elder chef scoffed, "They didn't want any child at all! The doctor was my uncle and he said the queen never wanted a child. She was going to…get rid of it. That's why she's now travelling. She doesn't want anything to do with that stupid brat-"

Your ears felt a sudden cradle of warmth that muffled her voice. Gently, someone pulled you away from the doors with small baby steps. You turned to the culprit and were met with Heeseung's wide eyes that had pools of worry and anxiety in them.

You choose to drown in those feelings. So you ran and ran until the staff and their conversation felt aeons away. Until the pain from rose bush thorns and low branches distracted you from the emotional agony. You ran until you reached a clearing and your lungs gave out, your forehead shone with sweat, your legs filthy with mud and grime, vision blurred. Until your exterior mirrored how you felt inside.

You ran until Heeseung caught up with you and begged you to stop.

You rubbed your nose harshly. With gentle hands, Heeseung grasped onto yours and slid his slender fingers to fit yours as if you two were crafted to complement each other.

"Do you think it's all true?"

You were grasping onto any silver lining. Any spark of hope that you were wanted, needed and loved. Oh, how much Heeseung desired and loved you- you had no idea. He had to keep his mouth shut, so he calculated his words as always.

"I have never been in Her Highness' presence long enough to acquaint myself with her, but I doubt there exists a mother who does not think about her child when she is away."

Your grip tightened.

"I don't believe every woman is meant to be a mother, Hee."

His heart clenched. You continued," I feel awful for her, but I desperately want a mother. I deserve a mother. Don't you think so?"

You turned your body to face him. An expression full of hope stared at him and Heeseung held the string of a guillotine over you. He swallowed thickly.

"I think every child deserves a mother who loves them. I also believe that…even if you are starved of motherly love…"

He trailed off, unable to meet your eyes, gaze trailed onto the grassy land and fields of tulips. You softly shook his hand to bring him back to the conversation, high off his words. Anything that could ground you from floating away with your sensibility, you needed it.

Heeseung pinched his eyes close and inhaled through his nose.

"I would ensure you are never starved of love if you let me into your heart. I will never be able to give you the love you desire because it is not in my ability to do so, but let me fulfil my duty to devote myself to you. Please accept the feelings I offer- as a man and a lover."

Heeseung was too afraid to view your reaction. Despite his trusted correct predictions of all your past reactions, for first Heeseung was unaware of what you might say or do. He knew his job was not threatened but your friendship was at stake.

His scattered thoughts were shunned away when he felt rough fingers paint his cheeks with their warmth. You held his face in his hands as if you were holding the most precious items, fear of breaking it was too much.

Your voice fluttered into his ears," Heeseung, please open your eyes."

A slave to your words, he followed yet he stared at the horizon where the sun descended to kiss the ground. In slow moments, you turned his head to look at you. Eye contact was inevitable.

Heeseung fell deep into your eyes and saw your soul bare and unstitched. He noticed the tremble in your lips and the minuscule furrow in your brows.

"Do you mean it?" Your voice was laced with poorly hidden desperation and hope.

Your hands moved along with his head as he nodded firmly. He placed his hand on top of yours, engulfing them in his larger palms.

"Always," he replied, voice firm as stone.

You refused to let go of him but a fit of giggles tumbled out of your mouth. Shoulders danced to the rhythm of your laughter until your eyes and brows crinkled in despair and your sudden wails filled the air.

Your grasp loosened so he placed both of his hands on yours and brought them to his lips for a sweet chaste kiss. His small kisses on your fingertips did not falter even as you cried and cried, basked in the golden rays of the sun.

Your head bowed forward to meet his chest, he wrapped his arms around your shaking shoulders like a shawl on a winter night.

"Oh, Heeseung!" You managed to cry out through the snot and tears. It must have been a rotten sight to someone else but Heeseung felt at ease now that you were finally vulnerable with him. Now that he was honest with you.

"I don't know what love truly is but I know for a certainty that my heart beats wildly when you are with me and my mind races in fear when you are not."

Although you weren't finished, Heeseung pulled you closer than ever and began littering your crown with kisses. Had anyone else seen, they'd faint in shock. Your bodies were moulded together, your entire frame was hugged by the knight, his slender fingers twirled your messy hair, and plucked a stray leaf out.

You heaved a heavy breath that burdened you for ages, shivering hands held the collars of his shirt like an anchor.

"You have changed my life and I want to bloom with you by my side."

It was Heeseung's turn to giggle. His hand was not enveloped in your locks and returned to caress your cheeks once more. Your eyes blinked the tears away but Heeseung's lovesick expression never changed. His touch was the fresh dew on grass in the early morning. His nose nudged your own, faces far too close to be inappropriate. You felt your face heat up at the thought. Heeseung ignored all rational thought and his heart threatened to break out of his ribcage from immense joy. He would make sure you were loved, he'd ensure you never had a single moment where you felt unwanted. He'd want you to relax from royal duties and come home to your bedroom where you were acknowledged and heard. He would do it all.

As Heeseung leaned upwards to place a sweet kiss on your forehead, you allowed your body to relax. It was a fact that once Heeseung had set his mind on something, he'd do anything to achieve it. Having the boy as your protector, companion and beloved, he was the perfect pillar of fortitude to support you and all your endeavours.

You gazed at your new lover and whispered," Thank you."

At your change in demeanour, gratitude and overall success of his new status, Heeseung smiled like he had never done before.

thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoyed.

please do not translate/copy/edit.

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

Text

Angels at the Door SIMEON x gn!Reader (Established); MICHAEL x gn!Reader (Developing) 4.2k Words | NSFW | Smut | Dubious Behaviour & Sexual Tension Content Warnings: Alternating POV. Pining, (resolved) sexual tension, accidental and non-consensual voyeurism, exhibitionism, scenting/marking, possessiveness, corruption kink if you squint, threesome (sort of), masturbation, intercrural sex, oral sex, penetrative sex. Next: Angels' Commendation | Epilogue: A Demon's Curiosity

When Simeon suggests to Michael that you should be given your own room in the Celestial Realm, he wholeheartedly agrees. You’ve spent many afternoons visiting your friends there, but you leave far too soon for everyone’s liking. Luke doesn’t try to hide his disappointment when he has to say goodbye to you only hours after your arrival. Simeon’s peaceful countenance turns bitter when he watches you pass through the Celestial gates, and Michael wishes he had more time to get to know you properly.

You move freely between the three realms now. You often stay in the Devildom for days, sometimes weeks at a time. It seems logical (and convenient) that the Celestial Realm offers you that same comfort.

Michael acknowledges your importance and gives you the empty guest chambers next to his own. It’s a lavish gesture, but he believes it’s fitting for someone of your importance. You’re the rare human that managed to instill hope for a peaceful future between the three realms. You charmed his fallen brothers in the Devildom and brought that menace of a sorcerer to heel. Michael can’t even express how much Luke has grown thanks to your influence, and Simeon seems to have found his path once more with your guidance.

Michael furnishes the room himself and makes sure that it has anything you could possibly want. It has a private bathroom so you don’t have to share the communal showers with the other angels. He even has the wardrobe filled with garments fashioned in the style of the Celestial Realm and hopes you’ll choose to wear them.

He makes these gestures of appreciation so you know you can consider the Celestial Realm another place to call home. He believes he’s honoring your efforts and helping to foster long-term friendships with the angels of his realm. After all, he wants nothing more than your happiness. He ignores the way his heart clenches when he sees you using the gifts he’s given you.

The day Michael catches you and Simeon being intimate together, the lies he tells himself about his purely platonic feelings for you start to crumble.

Many beautiful gardens grow in the Celestial Realm. Some are designated for vegetables and fruit trees while others are filled with the rare, colourful flowers that can only bloom in the realm of eternal light. Some of the gardens have paved pathways where angels can stroll at their leisure.

Michael’s garden is a small grove filled with wildflowers and willow trees. It’s near the back of the Celestial Halls where his chambers are, and very few angels bother to travel that far into the garden. It’s not officially his garden but sometimes when he takes a book there to read, or he simply leans against a tree to meditate, it feels like his own private space.

He heads to his garden one afternoon with a book tucked under his arm. You’ve been in the Celestial Realm for a few days and you seem to be adjusting well. Luke has been a near-constant presence by your side, and Simeon is usually not far behind. The other angels are warming up to you despite some of their initial concerns or suspicions about your loyalties. Michael reassures them that you should be considered a friend to angels, the same way the Devildom considers you a trusted friend to their prince and his fallen brothers.

It never occurred to Michael that you might be more than a friend to anyone in the Celestial Realm until he stumbles upon you and Simeon together. He ducks behind a tree and the faint sounds he hears on the wind don’t stop; neither of you seem to be aware of his presence. He tells himself he should leave as quickly as he can and pretend he didn’t see a thing. He’s not sure what invisible power keeps him paralyzed behind that tree, listening to your soft moans and sighs as Simeon’s lips and hands explore your body. You’re both laying underneath his favourite willow tree on a bed of flowers, and it seems so romantic—so why does he feel so much bitterness in his heart?

Is it because you lay with Simeon, one of the most slippery angels he’s ever known? Is it because Simeon’s hands push aside the soft, delicate clothes Michael gave you so he can touch the bare skin underneath? Is it because it’s Simeon’s name falling from your lips when his sinful fingers bring you so much pleasure you can’t silence your cries?

Simeon’s whispers and your delightful moans eventually fade on the wind and Michael panics. He worries that you’ll both walk this way and find him rooted in place behind a tree, sweat trickling down his brow and the front of his robes tented by his aching erection. He’s on the verge of prayer when luck looks favourably on him; Simeon leads you in the other direction that will take you both close to his room—and yours.

Minutes pass by and you must be inside the Celestial Halls by now—perhaps Simeon has stripped you down properly and laid you down on your bed, kneeling between your legs to touch you even more—but Michael can’t bring himself to move. His book lay on the ground at his feet where it slipped from his grasp. The sweat dotting his forehead and the back of his neck makes his skin feel tacky, but he doesn’t care. He tries to ignore the growing need buried deep inside him, and only when his cock softens—despite the way it still twitches when he thinks of you and the sounds you make, and your musky scent carried on a summer breeze—does he finally leave.

Michael avoids his room completely and hides in the restricted section of the Celestial Library, hoping the solace will soothe his troubled mind. He makes his excuses to Luke when the young angel sends him a message inquiring about his whereabouts. He skipped dinner feigning some lengthy task he had to take care of—he’s not hungry anyway. He has other insatiable appetites tonight.

He contemplates his predicament in the oldest part of the library where only the highest ranking angels are permitted to enter. He decides that his interest in you is simply a passing fancy. He tries not to ruminate about what drew you and Simeon together, or what he could’ve done to prevent it.

Looking through his memories of the past few days, he can see hints of the true nature of your relationship: the shy, subtle glances you shared, the way Simeon stood closer to you than socially appropriate, the way you said his name with more fondness than anyone else’s. He’s grateful for your discretion and blames poor luck that led him to the garden at that most inopportune time. He’s certain no one else would have found you there. He can’t fault either of you for that, no matter how much he might want to.

It’s late when Michael finally leaves his tormented sanctuary and retires to his room for the night. The Celestial Halls are darker now so that the angels (and you) can sleep comfortably. Your bedroom door is closed when he walks past it to his own room. He shrugs off his robes with a tired sigh and nearly falls into bed. He’s exhausted, and he closes his eyes and thinks about embarking on new beginnings tomorrow.

He meditates so that he can unburden himself with torturous thoughts of you and accept your friendship with grace. He doesn’t want guilt to ruin what you’re building there, and if you’re truly content with—with someone that’s not him, he can accept it. He’s Michael, and he won’t be brought to his knees by something as insignificant as lust. He’s better than that. He’s—

A whimper on the other side of the wall reaches his ears, and his brittle resolve cracks. He’s already hard under the sheets, and when he concentrates, he can hear the noises you and Simeon are making: the shuffle of your bedsheets, the wet, squelching noise your bodies make together, the rhythmic creaking of your bed in time with his thrusts.

Michael feels possessed when he slides off the edge of his bed and walks over to the shared wall that connects his room to yours. He presses his ear to the cool surface and nearly groans deep in his chest when he can hear you even clearer this way. You moan Simeon’s name but it’s muffled, like you’re burying your face against his skin—or in the pillow, laying face-down while he fucks you from behind. Simeon pants your name too as his pace quickens, and the rocking noise your bed makes grows louder.

If it were anyone else but you, Michael thinks he could go back to bed and roll over and pretend he didn’t hear a thing. But he can’t, because it is you. He wraps his hand around his cock and starts stroking himself in time with your muffled whines and stuttered whimpers for more. His pace is fast and desperate, and he spreads his precum along his shaft to smooth the glide. He wishes he could be fucking you instead; your body would feel better than his hand ever could.

He leans his arm against the wall and buries his face against it to smother his own noises. He bites his lip to stifle his moans and to prevent himself from uttering your name in desperation. He gasps from the white-hot pleasure coursing through his veins and he knows he’s close, but he slows his pace because he doesn’t want to come before you do.

When he finally hears your high-pitched moan followed by a loud cry, he pumps his cock and groans into his arm as his release covers his hand and the wall in front of him. He milks himself dry until it feels like he can’t breathe and he’s about to split open at the seams. He stumbles backwards and falls back on the bed, and he takes gulping breaths as his heart races. He’s hot and his skin is sweaty and his hands are covered in the proof of his sins.

The mattress next door creaks, and feet pad softly on the carpet. Someone runs the tap in your ensuite bathroom and Michael pictures Simeon washing you with reverence. You whisper quietly to each other but he can’t make out the words over the pounding of his heart.

Michael gets up to clean himself when he’s certain you’re both asleep and finished for the night. He remembers the streaks of cum on his wall he has to clean too. He washes away the evidence of his perversion and wonders how carnal temptation got the better of him.

Perhaps he should return you to the Devildom, or at least offer to give you a more comfortable room elsewhere. There are other rooms you can use that are far away from his, where he won’t be able to hear one of his angels touch you with his hands and fuck you with his cock.

When Michael finally goes to bed, he knows he’s too weak to send you away. While he waits for sleep to claim him, he wonders how long he’ll have to wait before he can listen to you again.

Simeon suspects Michael’s affections for you from the very beginning. Even as an honoured guest of the Celestial Realm, you’re given more freedom and gifts than he expected. Simeon said nothing—he was too delighted by your presence at his side to be bothered by whatever Michael was up to.

You both agreed to be discreet about your relationship. Angels might not abstain from physical intimacy the way humans believe they do, but you were concerned that any negative attention from Michael might complicate things. Simeon agreed, if only to ease your troubled mind; Michael would learn the truth eventually, and he could do nothing about it when he did.

Simeon doesn’t expect Michael’s behaviour towards you to change so drastically the night he discovered you together. Simeon wasn’t sure if the muffled groan he heard through the wall was his imagination. It lasted for only a brief moment, and you didn’t hear the noise at all. It would’ve been easy for Simeon to forget it, if it wasn’t for the increasingly affectionate way Michael started to treat you after.

Michael started following you both like a shadow. He justified his presence, of course—offering to show you parts of the realm you haven’t visited yet, teaching you history not taught in the Devildom—things that he knew you enjoyed, and your enthusiasm encouraged him even more.

The kitchens start preparing human world dishes with your recommendations, and Michael brings daily gifts to your room: a plate of his favourite pastries, a tin of Celestial Realm tea, vases filled with the most gorgeous flowers. He invites you to have tea in his private garden after he sends Simeon on some mundane task to distract him.

There are times that Simeon’s desire for you can’t wait until the nightfall to be sated, and you sneak private moments of intimacy together. Michael’s gaze lingers on your kiss-swollen lips when he conveniently finds you both shortly after. Sometimes he sniffs and pretends to have a runny nose while you search your pockets and hand him a tissue. Michael smiles at your thoughtfulness but Simeon knows he’s smiling because he caught the scent of your arousal in the air; it pleases Michael’s senses as much as it does Simeon’s.

When you make love in your room at night, Simeon knows Michael is listening. He has the same enhanced senses that Michael does; if Michael can hear you, then Simeon can hear him. To Michael’s credit, he tries to be quiet—and he’s more successful than that first night—but there’s only so much you can do to hide the sound of noisy bed springs and choked-off groans.

Simeon isn’t sure he can convince you to spend nights in his smaller, less comfortable room. He thinks about saying something to Michael on your behalf since it’s your privacy he’s concerned about; he hardly cares what Michael thinks of him now. But based on the way you react to the archangel’s presence, Simeon wonders how bothered you’d really be if you knew what he’s been doing.

Simon notices that your cheeks flush from Michael’s praise and attention. He also knows your heartbeat stutters when Michael dares to step a bit too close to you. The rare occasions when Michael has touched you—a hand on your shoulder or your back to guide you, a simple embrace, even—your body trembled with excitement long after Michael walked away.

Simeon remembers the way you stared at Michael’s bare chest one afternoon when you both saw him on the training grounds. The angels often tease Michael for growing soft due to his love of sweets, but his broad shoulders and chest still flex impressively when he wields his weapon. His movements are slow and calculated, and his blows are decisive and deadly.

You told Simeon after that he reminded you of Beel: he was a gentle giant, a hulking defender equally capable of great strength and kindness. Unfortunately for Beel, you never spared him a second or third glance the way you do for Michael.

Simeon muses that there must be something special about angels in particular that appeals to your most carnal desires. None of the demons in the Devildom seemed to interest you. Even his fallen brothers tried to seduce you and secure your affection for themselves, but none of them succeeded.

He’s curious what draws you to Michael: is it his skin that glistens when it’s covered in a sheen of sweat? Is it the way his long hair and broad chest draw your attention to him when he enters a room? Or perhaps it’s his eyes, haunted by years of painful memories and impossible choices that seem to brighten when he sees you, but darken with lust the longer he stares at you?

You’ve always been brave for a human. It’s not surprising that you would fall for wolves in sheep’s clothing.

Simeon wants to see how far he can push both of you in this little game you’re playing. He pulls you into a quiet part of the library and gropes your chest as he fucks his cock between the soft, warm gap of your thighs, but he leaves you a little messy afterwards. Your tacky thighs make a soft shlicking noise when you walk.

He leads you towards your bedroom so he can help you wash—after he fucks you properly—but Michael finds both of you first. He smiles warmly when he greets you, and his voice is like a deep, rumbling purr. He leans forward to pluck a loose thread from your tunic, and he scents you when his nose is closest to your skin. You don’t seem to mind Michael’s intrusion on your personal space, and Michael doesn’t seem to care that Simeon watches you both.

No matter what Michael might do or say, Simeon knows without a doubt that your heart is his and his alone. You’ve been through too much together, and his destiny is now tied to your own. However, he’s not entirely opposed to seeing where this path will lead if you desire it.

When Simeon takes you to bed that night, he feels particularly ravenous for you. He braces himself on his hands and knees above you so he can claim your lips in a hungry, filthy kiss. He licks into your mouth and detects a hint of tonight’s dessert on your tongue—a sweet vanilla cake, one of Michael’s favourites—and growls while he kisses you until the taste is gone.

Simeon is worshipful as he slowly moves down your body. His lips graze your jaw and his teeth scrape the sensitive skin at the hollow of your throat. His hands glide over your chest as his lips leave a fiery trail over the heaving slope of your ribs and the soft skin of your belly. When you arch your back in quiet demand for more, he rewards your patience by tweaking your nipples. He pushes your thighs apart and makes himself comfortable between your legs. There’s a small bottle of lube hidden amongst your sheets. He reaches for it and asks you what you want.

“I want your fingers,” you whimper, and you wiggle your hips impatiently.

Simeon hears a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the wall, and he hides his smirk in the meat of your thigh as he peppers your ticklish skin with barely-there kisses. The first sensation of his fingers tracing along your arousal leaves you gasping and clenching your sheets. He lowers his head and mouths at your sensitive skin as he slips a finger inside you.

You roll your hips and encourage him to touch you more, to fuck you deeper with the finger that’s preparing your body for his cock. You never hide your lust for him, and like all the times before, it sends heat rushing through him and makes his cock ache. He ruts against the mattress to try and find some relief, but nothing can compare to your velvety walls sucking him inside you.

He hears the soft, wet sounds of Michael touching himself on the other side of the wall, and it adds another sinful layer to the melody of breathy moans that escape your lips.

“Ahh–!” your voice trembles as you moan loudly when a second finger stretches you even more.

Simeon hushes you and he crooks his fingers inside you. “Be careful, my love. You don’t want Michael to hear, do you?” he murmurs. He doesn’t mean to ask that question out loud, but your reaction is so visceral that he doesn’t regret it either.

Your whole body jolts as if you’ve been shocked, and you groan deep in your chest like you’re having some sort of revelation. Your body clenches around Simeon’s fingers and he feels delightfully wicked as he basks in your depravity.

“Or perhaps you want him to hear us?” he teases you. Your eyes are clenched shut and you’re shaking your head back and forth against the pillow, but he knows you’re only afraid to admit the truth. He thrusts his fingers deeper inside you so he can brush against that sensitive spot inside that finally sets your hidden desires free.

“Y-yes–!” you cry out as you try desperately to fuck yourself on his fingers. No matter how deep or how fast he moves, it’s not enough—it’s never enough.

There’s a soft thump on the wall—like someone smacked it with their palm, or their fist—and Simeon suddenly withdraws his hand from your body and kneels between your legs. He adds more lube to his palm and pumps his cock until it’s slick. He presses the tip against you while he grabs your hips to hold you steady.

You hook your legs around his waist, but you look at him in confusion when he doesn’t move. You can feel the pressure of his cock pressing against your entrance. There’s something feral in his gaze, a dark hunger and possessiveness better suited to creatures of the Devildom more than any angel. His overwhelming need makes you tremble, but he doesn’t scare you.

You place one of your hands overtop of his and squeeze. “Please,” you whimper pathetically, because you feel so empty without him inside you and he knows it.

He clenches his jaw and utters a deep groan as he slowly sheathes himself inside you. He looks down and watches your body stretch obscenely around his cock.

Don’t hold back for me now, he thinks.

“Don’t hold back for us now,” he grits out, pulling back until the fat tip of his cock is all that’s left inside you. “Let him hear you,” he snarls when he snaps his hips forward and pulls your body down onto his cock to meet his thrust. The overwhelming sense of fullness leaves you breathless, and he begins fucking you with single-minded determination.

Simeon’s pace is faster and rougher than how he usually fucks you, but the intensity makes it so much better, and you can’t be quiet now even if you tried. There’s no chance that Michael can’t hear what you’re doing, not when Simeon growls at you to take his cock and feel how hard he is for you. You’re gasping for breath between moans and cries of Simeon’s name, and the headboard bangs against the wall in time with his thrusts.

The heat of your impending release burns deep inside you and you know neither of you will last much longer. Despite the loud noises you and Simeon make, you think you can hear a third voice from somewhere close by—deep grunts and curses and choked moans that sound suspiciously like your name.

Is that—?

You glance over at the wall that separates your room from Michael’s, and when you look back at Simeon, his burning gaze stares into yours. He leans over you and reaches his hand between your bodies. His fingers are electric as he strokes at your slick, sensitized skin that coaxes you even closer to your release. You can almost taste it, it’s so close.

“Let him hear you,” he whispers, repeating his command from earlier. You could’ve ignored it the first time as something dirty he said in the heat of the moment, but you can’t deny it now. His hand and cock move so purposefully to drive you over the edge like he wants you to scream for him—for both of them. He moves his hand faster between your legs and you close your eyes and arch your back so your chest presses against his.

“Please, right there, fuck I’m gonna—mmm—!” your moan breaks off into a high-pitched cry when you come, and Simeon’s own brutal pace starts to falter when your walls clench around his cock. He tries to keep going but he can’t hold off his own pleasure any longer. He grunts as his hips stutter, and his rhythm is slow and sloppy while he finishes pumping his cum deep inside you.

You think you hear a muffled shout through the wall, but you’re not sure if it’s your imagination or wishful thinking.

Simeon’s panting breaths are laced with tired, contented sighs. He huffs in amusement when a bead of sweat trickles down his brow and over the tip of his nose. His skin is as hot and clammy as yours is, and you brush the sweat off his face and wipe your hand on the bed sheets.

Simeon braces himself on his forearm so he can lean down and brush a kiss against your cheek. You both stare into each other’s eyes and you know he sees the same things you do: satisfaction, an undercurrent of lust that always exists between you, and uncertainty. It feels like something monumental happened tonight between the two of you in this room and Michael in his. Your throat feels hoarse, and you’re not sure how to ask the question burning in your mind.

Someone knocks on the bedroom door, and you realize you might not have to ask at all. Simeon glances over his shoulder quickly, but you both know who it is. When he peers down at you again, you know the silent question he’s asking you: Do you want to let him in?

Simeon’s lips curl into a smirk when you nod your head, yes.

#series: the edge of heaven #obey me michael #obey me simeon #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me michael x reader #obey me simeon x reader #michael x reader #simeon x reader #obey me michael smut #simeon smut #obey me smut #omswd smut #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #someone dropped this 🚩#gn!reader

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sl-ut · 4 months

Text

always

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader (also kina platonic!joel x ellie)

description: things didn’t exactly end up the way ellie wanted them today, but she wouldn’t give it up for anything.

warnings: UNEDITED, swearing, slight nsfw implications (i literally just mention that r and ellie have had sex), alcohol and marijuana consumption, slight angst

words: 1.1K (super short but i like it)

date posted: 10/01/24

For the first time in her life, Ellie longed for it to be wintertime. She wished for cold air to cut through the bitter warmth, allowing her a breath of relief for even a moment, having stepped out onto the front porch of the Tipsy Bison to take a moment for herself. To be fair, it had been partially her own fault, winter had ended only a few months prior, why hadn’t she asked sooner? It had been under a gentle descent of snowflakes that she had fallen in love with Y/n, after all, but she also hadn’t expected there to be anything official beyond the trading of a few vows, the sharing of a joint, and completed with the rest of the night rolling in the sheets together. Though, it would seem that that was far too much to ask for.

She really should have known better than to expect that Jesse would keep his big mouth shut, though she really did try to keep it a secret until the ring fell out of her pocket and onto the cold floor of their outpost. Jesse had teased her relentlessly, but seemed genuinely happy for his friends, promising to keep the secret until he knew that Jesse asked. However, as soon as she had, Dina was pounding on their door, demanding to see the ring and to know exactly when the wedding would be.

She was not overly thrilled for the wedding to have become such a large spectacle, but Maria had been just as enthused as Dina had been, stating that there was a desperate need for something like this to boost town morale. Ellie had immediately declined their offers of throwing a party for them, she was suddenly aware of the twinkle in her fiancée’s eyes at the idea of wearing a pretty white dress and dancing the night away at the Bison, leaving her little choice but to agree.

She had to admit, her heart had never felt quite as content as it had when she first spotted Y/n striding towards her, dressed in a horribly ugly wedding dress that was probably found in the attic of one of the houses, her smile radiating nothing but happiness as she met Ellie underneath the large willow tree.

Even now, watching her get passed around on the dancefloor, now wearing a simple white blouse and a pair of jeans that she had cut into shorts, but still as beautiful as ever. Ellie shook her head, letting out a large puff of smoke as a smile broke through her normally monotone expression.

A figure sidled up next to her, letting out a low whistle as they both stared through the large glass windows, eyes following the bride’s joyful movement closely, “I never got to say congratulations.”

She huffed a laugh, not taking her eyes away from her wife, “Thanks, I think I got pretty lucky.”

“You sure did. So did she,” Joel quipped, “You’re a real catch there, kid.”

“Please,” Ellie shook her head, “I’d be dead if it weren’t for her,” She was quiet for a beat before she continued, “And you.”

“Now I don’t know about that…”

“Shut up,” She chuckled, “What you did…I was–am angry with you. You took my choice away from me.”

“I know,” He nodded, “And you’ll never know how sorry I am for making you feel that way, but I’ll never feel sorry for keeping you alive.”

She nodded, “I know. I both hate you and–”

He sighed when she paused, “I know kid, me too.”

Ellie turned her emerald gaze to the man, her vision growing fuzzy as tears gathered along her waterline, “I wish you could have been here.”

His figure seemed to begin to fade into the darkness, but his voice was clear and true, “Me too, baby girl.”

“Ellie?” Y/n’s voice drew her attention to the front door, where her bride was standing with curiosity on her face, “Everything okay, babe?”

When Ellie glanced back at the spot next to her, “Yeah, everything’s good.”

The girl came closer, a smile growing on her face. She wrapped her arms around her wife’s neck, playing with the wispy ends of her short auburn hair. Ellie had also dressed up for the occasion, wearing a youth sized button up top and a poorly-tied tie hanging around her neck, which had been loosened throughout the night, even more so as Y/n pressed her body against hers. Ellie’s long fingers dug into her fabric-covered hips, leaning her head forward to accept the kiss that was being offered to her forehead.

“What are you doing out here on your own?”

The redhead shrugged, “Just needed to get away for a second. It’s hot in there.”

Y/n nodded, plucking the joint up from where she had set in on the railing next to her and taking a long drag, “I know this isn’t really what you wanted, but it really does mean a lot that you put in some effort to enjoy it.”

“I did enjoy it,” Ellie responded, “Maybe not all of it, but I wouldn’t trade today for anything.”

She leaned forward, capturing her wife’s lips with her own in a long and slow kiss, a small moan vibrating through her throat at the taste of cheaply made whiskey and cake from her lips.

“How much longer do I have to wait to get you in bed?” Ellie whined as they parted, earning a loud laugh from her wife’s lips.

“A little longer,” She shrugged, “Maybe after you come in and dance with me.”

Y/n made a break for it, only glancing back at Ellie once before disappearing behind the doors of the bar, leaving Ellie alone on the front step. The auburn haired girl chuckled at her, mentally trying to figure out a way to get her out of the bar sooner rather than later. As she stalked towards the door, her ears perked up at the sound of the voice once more.

“I’m happy for you, kid.”

The figure did not appear when she turned to look over her shoulder, but she knew he was there, watching over her. He always would be. A small smile graced her lips, uttering one last sentence before pushing through the doors and allowing her wife to drag her onto the dancefloor.

“Thank you, Joel.”

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou

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