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prythianpages · 3 months

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I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel

summary: Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate.

warnings: mentions of death (since the suriel & reader are friends); some angst but also fluff because Az deserves to be happy ♡

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: The lyrics kind of reminded me of Alice & Jasper from twilight and how she had a vision of meeting him. This does go back and forth a lot in the beginning between past and present and came out longer than I thought it would. It's 9.6K words (which for me is long lol.) I apologize if there are any spelling errors. I've read this multiple times but somehow, always miss a couple.

As the moonlight dances upon the water's surface, the river transforms into a liquid ribbon of silver, weaving through the city of Starlight. Anticipation fills the air as Azriel walks across the bridge that spans the Sidra, his massive Illyrian wings glistening in midnight hues under the pale moonlight.

Shadows play hide-and-seek as they travel through the night, drawn to the silhouette of a female figure. An intruder. Yet, Azriel's shadows dare to whisper something different into his ears.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice, carried by the wind, reaches him like a sweet caress, daring to awaken something deep within him. Beautiful. His shadows respond with a frenzy, a whirl of darkness singing wild tales into his ears, urging him forward. Meanwhile, his brain screams at the potential threat.

More tendrils of darkness dart toward you, ignoring their master’s orders to return. You don’t seem bothered by them. In fact, you seem to welcome them as if they’re old friends of yours.

Azriel swallows, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, unsure what to make of this.

“Who are you?”

Finally, you turn around and Azriel feels like the wind has been knocked out of him when his gaze meets yours. In the midst of the surrounding darkness, your eyes gleam with an inexplicable brightness. Specs of silver glimmer in your eyes, mirroring the stars above, as they shine back at him.

“That’s for you to decide,” you reply with a smile that carries both hope and a sense of knowing as you follow after him and take a step forward.

“But for now, I’d like to speak with your High Lady.”

Months before…

The brilliance of a thousand stars shine down on you and the night seems to hold its breath, as if it too, awaits the whispered prophecies from the celestial expanse above. Like always, you are itching to unveil them with your finely attuned senses. A gust of cool wind brushes through your hair, sending shivers down your exposed skin. Pulling your gaze away from the night sky, you turn in time to see a cloaked figure approaching like a shadow in the night.

Your lips curve into a smile. “Hello, friend.”

“y/n.” The Suriel greets you, hovering beside you. Then, not missing another beat, he says, “I told her Rhysand was her mate.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips. “You did not.”

“I did.” He grins back at you, flashing you his stained teeth.

You can’t help but laugh a little at your dear old friend. The Suriel lets out a rattled sound you discern as a laugh as he joins you. Always the one for dramatics. You still remember hearing about his first encounter with Feyre Archeron and how he told her to stay with the High Lord.

“I told her she must stay with the High Lord.”

“Did you specify which one?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m sure she handled it well,” you respond but your smile fades, giving way to a wistful expression. “She’s lucky. Not only is she made but the Cauldron has blessed her with a mate. The High Lord of the Night Court at that.”

The weight of his gaze settles upon you. You’re aware that your words carry a tinge of envy, a sentiment that feels unjust when considering everything Feyre has endured. The Suriel, ever perceptive, acknowledges this as well. He chooses not to remind you and indulges you instead.

“The Cauldron has blessed you as well, my child.”

“Have you seen it?”

Hope sparks in your eyes as you turn to face him. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, seem to pierce through the veils of time and secrets. You sense one of them unfolding. But he only gives you a teasing glimpse.

“Perhaps.”

With a furrow in your brows, you lift your head back up to glare at the night sky. The stars seem to blink at you in a teasing manner, as if finding amusement in keeping this secret from you.

“How come I haven’t seen it?”

“You will soon.” He reassures, following your gaze upwards. A dance of amusement swirls within the depths of his eyes. “He’s waited centuries for you. Count your stars lucky that your waiting won’t be as long.”

Back to the present…

Velaris lived up to its name. A dream compared to the horrors of the city you grew up in. But as the city sparkles and comes to life at the darkening hour, all your attention is drawn to the male before you. He’s even more breathtaking in person. Everything about him is classically beautiful and the moon seems to agree, shining down on him and casting an ethereal glow on the golden-brown of his skin.

As Azriel continues to approach you, his wings fold gracefully behind him. His gaze is locked onto yours and though his eyes are cautious and analytical, there’s a warm shiver running down your spine. The desire to lose yourself in the hazel depths of his eyes becomes an irresistible pull.

Before you know it, the shadows brushing against your arms rise and come to rest against your eyes in a blindfold. Darkness engulfs you, and the sensation of weightlessness takes hold as Azriel winnows both of you. You land on a soft cushion–a chair. The dark tendrils leave your eyes and wrap around your wrists and legs, binding them together.

“Stay here.” Azriel says, the shadows wrapped around your limbs tightening in a silent warning.

A chuckle escapes from you and when your eyes meet his again, you flash him a mischievous smile. It widens when he’s the first to fold, quickly averting his gaze. He has no clue. You’re exactly where you want to be.

He leaves the room and your eyes finally take in your surroundings. Veiled curtains made of midnight blue silk drape the expansive windows, pulled back to allow moonlight to filter through. Shelves line the walls, housing collections of ancient artifacts and magical trinkets. A large desk, crafted from dark, polished wood rests before you. Your gaze fixates on the wall behind it, where a captivating portrait of the female you seek rests.

The door behind you swings open, and you turn to witness the graceful entrance of the female from the portrait. Feyre, the Cursebreaker and High Lady of the Night Court. She's a vision of night and beauty, her golden-brown hair cascading down her exposed back, revealing glimpses of moon phases etched along her spine.

“High Lady,” you say in greeting, bowing your head in respect.

Surprisingly, the High Lord doesn't accompany her. Instead, it's Azriel who trails behind her. Her calm blue eyes assess you as she takes a seat across from you. Azriel stands guard behind her and you feel his shadows watching your every breath.

"And who might you be?"

“I’m y/n,” you respond, choosing your next words carefully. “An old friend of the Suriel’s. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to you and offer my help.”

Something flickers in her blue eyes at the mention of the Suriel and her stoic expression falters, if only for a moment. You send her a sympathetic smile, your own heart aching at the mention of the fearsome creature you both held dear.

“Your help?” She echoes.

"She’s a seer," Azriel interjects, his voice setting your heart alight as there's no hint of disgust or apprehension in his tone.

Your kind is often regarded with hostility. He might not know your connection...yet. But he’s paid you enough attention to recognize your abilities and appears to be indifferent about them. If the Suriel were still alive, you know he’d laugh at your slight delusion.

"I am," you confirm. "And I know your sister is one too." You don’t miss the tension in Azriel’s body at the mention of the cauldron-made fae, but you don't dwell on it as you can also sense Feyre's protectiveness. "She has great potential. I can help her hone her skills. Together, we can—"

"No," Azriel growls protectively. His sharp interruption has you startling in your seat and hope deflates as you feel the intensity of his glare.

Feyre raises a hand, signaling him to stand back. “Why should I trust you?”

“Let me show you.”

Months before…

“By the Cauldron, what did you get yourself into?”

The Suriel grins mischievously, his tattered cloak barely clinging to his bony form. He graciously accepts the cloak you offer, a luxurious piece made of the softest velvet in the darkest shade of black you could find. A purr escapes him as he revels in its warmth. "Nothing," he responds coyly, the satisfaction evident in the bounce of his form as he hovers in the air.

You shoot him a pointed look, yearning to know what he was up to. You’re certain it was no good. “Sure,” you retort and then gesture toward the crackling fire you started. “I also made dinner.”

“You spoil me.”

“It’s what friends do.”

"Friend," he muses, the white pools of his eyes burning into your soul, as he turns to you. "As a friend, I should tell you that your dress is absolutely atrocious on you. Cobalt blue is more your color."

With a glare, you playfully throw the roasted chicken over the fire at his face. He effortlessly catches it with his mouth, cackling as he chews on the tender piece of meat.

"What do you know about fashion? All you do is thirst for robes."

“You forget that I am older than the bones of this world. I know everything about everything. I also cannot lie.”

"Doesn't stop you from hiding the truth," you respond cheekily, and he hums in agreement,

Silence falls as he seats himself beside you on the ground. He breaks it a couple of moments later. “Remember what I told you last time?”

You release a deep sigh because you do remember. The mere thought haunts you nearly every night, and you’re often burdened by the heavy weight of it. Your shoulders slump in response. “Why can't you do it yourself?”

“It is your fate, not mine,” he states simply, a reminder of the immutable laws of destiny.

“I’m not ready.”

You don’t think you ever will be and suddenly, you’re that fragile sixteen year old again, who had to run away from the only place you called home to escape a cruel fate. The one who was left to navigate through her new onset of divine abilities alone.

That is, until, the fateful night you had thrown your cloak over a tree branch to dry. It had been stained by blood after a rough and almost deadly encounter with a stray naga so you had spent all morning cleaning it in the river nearby. Completely unaware of the Suriel you were summoning.

“You do not fear me?”

“That is mine,” you had said through clenched teeth with a deep rooted glare.

In the midst of your tug of war with the Suriel, your cloak tore in half. In that moment, you braced yourself for the dark creature's wrath. However, something in you captured his attention that day, and he chose not to unleash his fury upon you. He decided to take you under his wing instead.

He recognized your lineage without a single word spoken about it. He could sense your power coursing through your veins, waiting to be unraveled. After decades of patience and practicing, he was there to witness the formation of stars weaving themselves into the depths of your eyes. The mark of your seer abilities.

As always, the Suriel reads you like an open book. He can sense your insecurity, your hesitancy. But, in equal measure, he can sense your power, your potential.

“You will be,” he insists, his words carrying the unwavering certainty of the all-knowing creature he is. “You must guide and open the eyes of Elain Archeron the same way I did for you.”

Your throat tightens. “When?”

“Soon.”

And when you look up to gaze at the night sky, the stars align for you. A cascade of visions unfurls, pouring over you like a celestial waterfall. Your eyes become a myriad of galaxies and ears are teased with glimpses of conversations and whispers from the stars above. One moment, you’re in a forest, standing before a female figure crouched over a cloaked one.

“The tracking…I knew of it.”

Then, a rattling breath. “Leave this world a better place than how you found it.”

Abruptly, the scene shifts, and you stand in an enchanting city of starlight, gazing at the expansive river before you as anticipation fills the air. He comes for you. Azriel, the shadowsinger. The name resonates in the echoes of your mind.

Then, the final vision envelopes you, drawing you into the depths of mesmerizing hazel eyes. The voice that accompanies it is carried by the enchantment of night, gently caressing against your ears.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Mate. That is your mate. Azriel, the–

“Do you see it now?”

With a sharp intake of breath, you’re pulled from the downpour of your visions, only to find your senses clouded with tears that pool at the corners of your eyes. How cruel, you think, your heart twisting in agony. And though meeting your mate–your fated companion–was among your greatest dreams, you no longer want it. Not if it means you’ll lose your greatest companion.

You can live without knowing your mate. After all, you’re doing so at this very moment. The Suriel has been your friend for decades. Two souls brought together by their mutual loneliness. An all knowing creature and a seer. Together, you’re a powerful duo, navigating through the fated intricacies of Prythian. You’d be lost without him.

“Please don’t go,” you’re begging.

The Suriel smiles but it’s not his usual mischievous grin. This time, a tinge of sorrow lingers in the curve of his lips, casting his expression in a veil of sadness.

“I have to. It’s my time to go,” he says. “Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“That when it’s your time to shine, you’ll find Feyre. Help her make this world a better place.”

Back to Present

Feyre blinks back tears as she withdraws from your mind. She turns her head toward the Shadowsinger behind her, and for a moment, fear grips you. You allowed her to see the revelation of Azriel being your mate but only because it was deeply entwined with the other pertinent visions.

“Release her.”

The shadows release their grip on you and you let out a deep exhale in relief. But the inky tendrils don’t leave your side. They linger and hover over you and at this, Azriel’s eyebrows furrow.

Feyre extends her hand out toward you. Her blue eyes are warm, a gentle reassurance that she��d harbor your secret for you. A smile graces her lips, one that you're happy to reciprocate.

“I’ll gladly accept your help but let me speak with Elain first. You may stay here. There’s a spare room upstairs. Azriel will show you around.”

Following his High Lady’s orders, Azriel shows you around the grand estate. He’s a bit reserved around you and you don’t blame him. Both a blessing and a curse, your visions offer insight into his world, yet you're a mere stranger imposing on the family he protects fiercely.

And as he finally shows you to your room, the one right next to his, you can only hope that someday, he’ll welcome you too. After all, he is your mate.

Elain Archeron is infinitely beautiful. Inside and out. She is gentle and sweet and you see why some mistake her kindness for weakness. But it took only days for you to become well aware of the strength and power she harbors deep within.

While your abilities were limited to what the stars wanted to show you, you sensed that hers were limitless. With the right training, she could summon visions at her call, anticipate anyone's move. You wanted to help her achieve that and prove those people that saw her as something fragile wrong. Though reluctant toward your help at first, Elain was kind enough to listen to you and consider the advice you gave. It took some further convincing but you knew she was itching to unravel the depths of her powers too.

But it's proving to be a challenge. A hard and exhausting one. You're not surprised. It took you many years to become attuned to your powers. What is surprising, however, are Azriel's feelings for her. They're obvious and plain to see and could you blame him? Elain is wonderful...and you can't help but compare yourself to her. She's everything you're not.

Upon your arrival, you had been set on making Azriel fall for you. That was, until, you realized he was already entangled in the threads of another's heart. Could it be that the Suriel, in his all knowing wisdom, purposefully shielded you from such revelations about your mate? To delay the shattering of your dreams?

Now, you were just content to focus on your task at hand. To help Elain the way the Suriel did with you, even if Azriel was there as a safety net for her every session. Even if the way he was well attuned to every shift of her expression sent a sharp pain stabbing through your heart. He was blissfully unaware of your connection, clouded by his affection for Elain.

And you were tired of chasing after males. It's why you shot down Feyre's suggestion of confessing to Azriel. You dreamed of having a mate, pleaded to the Cauldron even. Now, you realize, that you want Azriel to like you for you. To chose you too the way Feyre did with Rhysand. If Elain was the person he chose at the moment, then so be it.

"I don't chase. I attract," you told Feyre. The same words you had uttered to the Suriel years ago after he poked fun at you over a failed romance. One of many, unfortunately.

"The only thing you'll attract with that attitude of of yours is a dark cloud of shadows," The Suriel had laughed at you, earning an icy glare from you.

But Feyre is much nicer about it than your dear old friend. She gives you an encouraging smile instead and wishes you luck on your upcoming session with Elain.

Your session with Elain ends terribly–with her screaming in pain and Azriel glaring at you and telling you to go, despite your attempts at apologizing. You spend the following days, weeks even, trying to make up for it. You slowed down in pace in your exercises with Elain, despite her protests. She held no animosity toward you at the dark turn that session had made.

You also buried yourself into any book you could find about seers in the magnificent Night Court library, grieving and longing for the Suriel. He would know what to do, and know exactly how to help. It’s the mere thought of him that fuels your determination to keep trying, despite how much you want to leave. It’s laughable almost, how in the midst of so many people, the sense of loneliness weighs heavier on you than it ever did in the solitude of Prythian's forests.

But perhaps, a break wouldn't be such a bad idea? You think as your gaze lands on an intriguing cover. It's a work of pure fiction. The ideal escape from reality. Retrieving it from its shelf, you settle into one of the plush chairs and immerse yourself into the words etched onto the pages.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

A nudge against your leg startles you awake, and as you blink away the remnants of sleep, your eyes widen at the sight of Azriel standing before you. Sleeping beauty, the words sink in, painting a soft blush over your cheeks.

“You missed dinner.”

“Oh.”

You turn your head, wincing at the dull ache in your neck from sleeping in an awkward position. The soft glow of the moon greets you through one of the library's windows. You don’t know when you had fallen asleep but you must’ve been out for hours. When you face Azriel again, your gaze drops to his hands, where he holds a carefully arranged plate of food. Your stomach growls as the scent hits you and your eyes linger on the generous serving of potatoes–your favorite–in comparison to the other vegetables and meat.

“Is that for me?” you ask, and immediately curse yourself for the seemingly silly question. You blame it on the lingering grasp of sleep, still reluctant to release its full grip on you.

"No, it's for the rats that come out at night," he replies, lips twitching upwards at the reaction it stirs from you. How the Suriel never scared you but a couple of hairy, smaller creatures do is beyond you. He places the plate on the small table beside you.

"Yes, it's for you. A peace offering. For snapping at you."

"That was two weeks ago.”

"Bet you didn't see it coming," he teases, and you find yourself blinking in surprise. The Shadowsinger cracking a joke? It's a sight to behold. At least for you.

Your eyes narrow. "Did Feyre send you?"

"No," Azriel replies simply, his tone carrying a sincerity that sets a flicker of hope alight in you. He then sighs. "I just realized I haven't been the most welcoming, that's all."

You smile in response and shift in your seat as you turn your body towards the food. The movement has the book in your lap falling. His hand reaches the book before yours could and the brush of your skin against his sends a delightful shudder through your body.

His eyes curiously look over the title and when he hands it back to you, you take note of the way he avoids looking at his scarred fingers. So you reach forward and brush your fingers against his again, letting them linger for a beat longer than before. Surprise flickers in his hazel eyes as he meets your gaze, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

“That book is one of my favorites," he says, his shadows dancing across his shoulders and peeking curiously at you. "I'm surprised you're into the mystery genre."

"Why?"

“Well, you’re hard to read sometimes. Like a mystery that refuses to be solved.”

An arched brow is your response, but the gleam in your eyes gives away more than you'd like. “Maybe I don’t want to be unraveled.”

Azriel's lips twitch upwards once more. “Maybe it just takes the right person.”

Bathed in the glow of sunlight, you and Elain sit across from one another on the soft bed of green grass. Meanwhile, Azriel leans against a tree, a couple of feet away. His gaze is intense as he watches you two. Too focused on not letting it faze you, you fail to catch the way it softens when he turns to you.

Azriel can’t help but frown when he catches you avoiding his gaze. He wonders if you still harbor some resentment toward the way he had snapped at you awhile back, even though he already apologized for it.

"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," he hears you instruct softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”

Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration. “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”

“Good,” you say and though her eyes remain closed, you smile gently at her. A gesture that sends a rush of warmth through him.

“Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”

“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow.

“Here, take my hands,” you say as you reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”

Elain does as told. The world stills around you two. You close your eyes. As Elain’s eyebrows relax, your own face contorts in concentration. Azriel feels himself tense when he realizes it’s not concentration etching onto your face–it’s pain. In a heartbeat, he’s kneeling before you and prying your hands apart.

“Stop!”

Your eyes snap open at the sudden disconnection, and Azriel is unsettled by the way you shrink back from him, panic widening your eyes.

“I’m not hurting her!”

But it’s not Elain he’s worried about. He hasn’t even spared her a glance. It’s you–you’re the one that’s hurt. Blood trickles down your nose and he’s urging you to lean forward, gently guiding you with his hands as Elain rushes for a towel.

“Are you okay?”

There’s a dull ache in your head but also one in your heart and you’re too disoriented to stop yourself from saying, “If you stop staring at me like that, I will be.”

Azriel releases a soft chuckle, his muscles relaxing in relief at the playful edge in your tone. Yet, his shadows, wanting to confirm you're okay themselves, flutter toward you in a delicate cloud of darkness.

"Like what?”

“Don’t make me answer that.”

And you’ve never felt more relief at the sight of Elain coming in between you with a towel in hand.

A sudden sound has you stirring from your sleep. Your hand instinctively slides under your pillow, fingers grasping for the dagger you always keep with you when sleeping. The sound comes again and your initially alarmed body relaxes as you recognize it as the sound of someone knocking. Wrapping a robe around your night shift, you head toward the door, expecting Elain on the other side.

Upon opening your door, you’re surprised to find Azriel standing on the other side.

“You’re not going to Starfall?”

“Good morning to you too.”

Azriel’s eyes rake over your form, taking in your disheveled state. His lips curl into a faint smile. "It's noon," he observes in an amused manner.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you pivot your head toward the clock that hangs on the wall of your room. There, confirming his statement, the hands point a half hour past twelve. You overslept. You didn’t have any plans today and it seems your exhausted body took advantage of it.

“Is everything okay?”

His voice, laced with genuine concern, draws your attention back to him. The soft furrow of his brow and the warmth in his eyes catch you off guard. You hesitate. You don’t want to lie but you also don’t want to burden him with the truth.

So you settle for a, “Why?”

"I've noticed you haven't been sleeping much," he remarks, and before you can interrupt, he gestures toward his room, the one adjacent to yours. A silent acknowledgment that he's been more attentive than you realized. It pulls at the strings of your heart. "Or attending family dinners, and now Feyre tells me you're not going to Starfall?"

The weight of his observations presses on you. You didn’t think anyone had noticed. "Why do you care?" you retort, your words sharper than intended, and a wince follows.

"Isolation is not a good coping method," he responds, his tone steady and unfazed by your sharpness. "Trust me, I know."

"I don't have a dress." The words escape your lips, but even as you say them, you recognize the feebleness of the excuse.

“I’ll buy you one.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel a telltale blush spreading as the thought of Azriel buying you a dress takes root. He’s just being nice, you tell yourself. His gaze remains fixed on you, hazel eyes bright and gleaming with curiosity, as if daring you to come up with another excuse.

“Starfall is tomorrow.”

Azriel grins at you. It sends a flutter through your heart and you wonder if he can hear the erratic beat of it.

“Better make haste and get dressed then. We’ve got a couple of hours before the shops close.”

You deliberately take extra time getting ready, a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within you as you prepare to spend time with Azriel. Half-expecting a hint of annoyance, you finally open the door to your room, only to find Azriel with a welcoming smile that has the bond in your chest humming. Still, you're met with silence at the other side.

You take a deep breath as he gestures for you to follow him. As you step outside, he offers his arm and winnows you, not wanting to waste anymore time. You both find yourselves in the bustling shopping plaza of Velaris, where the fragrance of blooming flowers and the animated chatter of people embrace you.

Elaborate Starfall-themed displays adorn the shops, enticing you inside. Suddenly, the sheer array overwhelms you, and an urge to step back washes over you. Azriel place a hand on your back, stopping you and guiding you towards one of the shops.

“Welcome!” A voice happily chirps. “How can I help you?”

A stunning female enters your line of sight, her gaze immediately fixating on the male standing behind you. Her lips curve into a captivating smile, causing a twinge of jealousy to flicker within you. It’s short lived as Azriel clears his throat, gently nudging you forward.

“We’re looking for a dress for her.” Azriel speaks for you.

“Splendid! What’s the special occasion?”

“Starfall.” Azriel answers.

The female’s eyes widen, her smile morphing into a strained one. “I’m afraid I’ve sold all my best work already.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Sorry for the trouble,” you quickly reply, attempting to conceal the relief in your voice. Turning to leave, Azriel's hands land on your shoulders, directing you back to face the female.

“I’m sure we can find something in here,” Azriel reassures with a polite smile, scanning the aisles of dresses. “Y/n isn't picky. Right?”

“I can be,” you mumble under your breath.

Azriel lets out a sound, what you discern as a muffled chuckle. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and then leans down toward your ear. “If I were you, I’d take advantage of the situation.”

You turn your head slightly and regret it immediately. It takes all your strength to hold back the shudder your body wants to give at his proximity. He’s so close you can feel his breath fanning against your neck and you wonder what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against that sensitive skin.

It surprises you how quickly you find your voice.

“I’m going to pick the most expensive one.”

“Go ahead,” Azriel says and you can hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him. He doesn’t allow you to get another word in, urging you forward again to where the female patiently awaits for you.

She lightly grasps your arm, leading you toward a rack of dresses in various styles and colors while Azriel makes himself comfortable on the couch by the fitting room. “You are a lucky lady,” she muses, her hands gracefully exploring the textures of her creations. “I’ve had this shop for centuries and you’re the first lady the Shadowsinger has brought to me.”

A blush warms your cheeks as you divert your attention to the array of beautiful dresses. Each one is a work of art, making you question her earlier claim about not having her best work available. If these weren't her finest creations, the thought of what her best work looked like leaves you intrigued.

The female, who’s name you learn is Willow, has you try on a couple of dresses that differ in styles. You’re reluctant to show Azriel each one but given he’s paying for it and the only other one in this shop, you feel like he should have some say.

“Do you like it?” Willow beams at you, admiring her work.

On the fifth dress, your hands run over the tulle of the vibrant yellow skirt. The fabric feels itchy against your skin, and the color is too bold for your taste. You swear you are not trying to be picky, despite what you told Azriel earlier.

“I li–”

“Let’s try another?” Azriel cuts in as if sensing the lie that was about to unfold. He rises from his seat toward one of the racks and pulls out a dress that caught his eye earlier. “How about this one?”

He holds the dress out to you, smiling softly when you take it from him. It’s much simpler compared to the other dress you’ve tried on but still just as elegant. It’s also soft against your skin. Willow guides you back into the fitting room, deftly assisting you out of the vivid yellow dress and into the cobalt blue silk one.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Cobalt blue is more your color!" Willow says as she gushes over you.

Her choice of words leaves you momentarily stunned. Cobalt blue is more your color. The exact words the Suriel had spoken to you. Also, the exact same shade as Azriel's siphons. The Suriel must’ve enjoyed himself a lot when he said those words to you. That sneaky little creature... You can hear his laugh echoing through your mind.

As you finally emerge from the dressing room, Azriel can’t help but stare. The fabric drapes gracefully around you, accentuating curves he hadn't noticed before. Sensing his prolonged gaze, your eyes meet his. It was him quickly averting his gaze, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure.

"This is the one. It looks…good on you," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.

“It’s 500 gold marks.”

He picks up on the teasing in your tone and the way Willow shakes her head in reassurance at him. Still, he humors you and says, “I don’t care.”

He’d pay more than 500 gold marks just to make you happy.

Azriel battled with restless thoughts that night, unable to find solace in sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, the vivid image of you in that dress invaded his mind. He couldn’t wait to see you in that dress again. Maybe then, he’d have the courage to compliment you better.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first guests arrived for the Starfall celebration, Azriel's eyes eagerly scanned the gathering crowd, seeking a glimpse of you. Just as a twinge of disappointment crept in, his shadows stirred, signaling your proximity. His wings twitched with anticipation, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. You are absolutely stunning. Breathtaking.

In an instant heartbeat, he’s pushing Cassian, who was ready to fly you up to the House of Wind, aside. With a warning look, Cassian steps away with a chuckle.

"You're here," he whispers, a blend of disbelief and relief saturating his breath.

“Well a very nice male spent a lot of money for me to be here.”

“Well I’m glad.” Azriel chuckles, eyes drinking you in again. Savoring you. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

Azriel flushes at the unexpected compliment and his shadows to come to life around him. He smiles at you. “Shall we?”

He waits for your nod before carefully hooking an arm beneath your knees, eyes never leaving yours. A thrill courses through him as he revels in the sensation of your arms around his neck, taking delight in the way you feel in his arms. His wings unfurl behind him, preparing for the short flight up. The sound has your eyes fluttering shut, arms tightening around him and face burying into his neck. He finds it absolutely endearing. He never wants to let you go.

Against his wishes, the flight up to the balcony was short. He sets you down, helping you regain your footing, a lingering touch before reluctantly releasing you. There’s still more guests he, unfortunately, has to fly up. It’s as if you sense his internal conflict because you’re turning around to face him, eyes bright and alight.

“Yes, Azriel. I’ll save you a dance.”

The way his name rolls off your tongue sends a thrill up his spine. He opens his mouth to say something but once again, you beat him to it.

"Thought I'd save you the question," you stated, an all-knowing grin gracing your features as you tapped the corner of one of your eyes. Ah, so you had a vision of him. He wonders about the other glimpses you might have seen.

He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it as Elain is rushing toward you, showering you with compliments. He takes that as his cue to depart. He is determined to finish his tasks in bringing the remaining guests up as fast as he can so that he can return to you and that dance you promised.

Azriel finds himself stealing glances whenever he thinks you won’t notice. The sparkle in your eyes, the way the dress accentuates your features–he can't look away. Caught up in the melody of your laughter, provoked by something Elain said, Azriel and his shadows are too mesmerized in the beauty of you to notice Feyre approaching until she speaks.

"She’s beautiful," Feyre remarks, her eyes following the same path as Azriel's gaze.

A soft affirmation escapes Azriel's lips. "Yes."

Feyre, well aware of the answer, delves further. "You bought her that dress?"

“Yes.”

A mischievous gleam flickers in Feyre's eyes as she delivers her next statement. "You like her."

Azriel's response slips out before he can even grasp the depth of his own admission. "Yes."

He turns to Feyre, his wide eyes betraying the shock of his own revelation. A slight pallor washes over his skin, and Feyre chuckles at his reaction. Sensing the tension in the air, she rests a reassuring arm on his shoulder. “I like her too,” she confesses.

Though, both of them recognize that Azriel's feelings for you run deeper and in more intricate ways than Feyre's own fondness.

“I offered her a place in this court. She said she’d think about it. Maybe you can convince her? The same way you convinced her to come to Starfall,” Feyre says and then with one last pat on his shoulder, she makes her way back toward Rhysand.

Still recovering from the revelation of his own feelings, it takes a while longer for the weight of Feyre’s words to sink in. A mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a flicker of hope plays out across his features. You weren’t planning on staying? The thought of you leaving–leaving him stirs a feeling in his chest. His eyes seek you out again but you’re no longer standing beside Elain.

In your place, stands Lucien and normally the sight would trigger dark emotions from him. But now? He feels nothing. There’s no sense of envy. His affections have shifted elsewhere.

Azriel’s shadows fall to the floor, slithering against the cool tile like serpents of the night. They lead the way directly to where you stand, by the champagne table. He makes his way toward you and you're downing the rest of the liquid in your glass.

“Azriel.” You smile at him.

“It’s time for you to fulfill the promise you made me.”

“Of course,” you reply, offering him your hand.

Azriel gracefully pulls you into his embrace. One hand wraps around yours while the other rests on your waist. The enchanting melody guides your movements as the two of you glide across the floor.

“Feyre told me she offered you a role in this court.”

Your eyes, wise and mysterious, meet his, and he feels your body tense under his hold. “What else did she tell you?”

“That you’d think about it,” he says, the rhythm of the dance allowing for a moment of ease to settle between you. “You should stay.”

“Why?”

A wistful expression colors your features and the soft glow of stars are reflected in your eyes. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of his hold before the next song begins.

“There’s no one here for me.” You admit and then give a small laugh as you look down. There's a deep, haunting sadness to your laughter, striking a chord within him.

“I’m right here.”

Lifting your head back up, your eyes search his for something with a glimmer of hope. An eternity seems to pass in your gaze. A frown settles over your lips and he feels a tinge of sadness. Whatever you sought, it seems you did not find it.

Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, his hand reaches for yours again. He guides you to somewhere more private, toward one of the balconies that is off limits to the guests. “Talk to me,” he says, his words carrying an invitation for you to unburden your heart.

Your hands grip onto the railing before you and attention is directed up towards the night sky. He mirrors your actions, resting his hands close to yours. So close he can feel your warmth but not close enough to touch.

"It feels weird being here," you sigh deeply. "My mother and I used to sneak out of Hewn City on Starfall just to catch a glimpse of these migrating spirits every year...until she realized what I was. She said I was a curse, said she would turn me into Keir and let him have his way with me if I didn't leave."

Azriel's fingers clench into a white knuckled grip at your words.

"Not that leaving a horrible city such as Hewn was exactly a punishment. It was probably for the best. Still didn't stop me from being scared. It was the first time in my life that I was actually alone. I learned how to survive."

"I met the Suriel a year later. He must've taken pity on me and would visit me without being summoned. Sometimes, it'd be to tease me with some gossip. Other times, to annoy and chide me for my mistakes. Most importantly, he taught me how to not only survive on my own but live alone. I don't know, it's probably silly but I just felt a lot less lonely when I was actually alone than I do here."

“It’s not silly. I used to feel that way too.” Azriel admits and after a moment of silence, he’s turning toward you. “Am I not your friend?”

“I don’t know,” you find yourself saying again, uncertainty clouding your expression. Pausing, you tear your gaze from the night sky to look at him. “Do you want to be?”

“Yes,” Azriel smiles at you. And so much more.

You smile back at him but it doesn’t last long. Turning your head to face directly ahead, you bite the inside of your cheek in hesitation, revealing to Azriel that there’s more troubling you than your sense of loneliness.

“What else?”

“There’s nothing else.”

“y/n.”

“I feel like a failure.”

Azriel's eyes widen, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not,” he reassures quickly.

“I–I just,” you stammer, the weight of self-doubt evident in your voice. “It’s nearing four months since I’ve arrived, and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface with Elain.”

“How long did it take you to harness your abilities?”

“Decades,” you respond, the admission carrying a hint of sheepishness. “But Elain is different. This is different. I don’t want to disappoint her. Disappoint Feyre. The world we know is crumbling apart, and we don’t have time. If–if we cannot fix it before it’s too late, I will have failed him.”

“Hey, look at me.”

When you don’t, Azriel lightly grips your chin, coaxing your gaze to him. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’re honoring his wish by just being here. Keep trying,” he encourages, wiping away your tears. “I’ll be here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone. We’ll face this together.”

“Together?”

He releases his hold on you, resting his hand once more on the rail. This time, it’s even closer to yours.

“Together,” he confirms, heart swarming with warmth when your hand bridges the gap between you and brushes against his.

And finally, it seems your lonely days are through.

Azriel’s been in love before. Twice. Or at least, he thought it was love. One was unrequited, a silent ache he carried within. The other was forbidden, a love he had clung to with misguided hope. He was beginning to come to the begrudging conclusion that love was simply not meant for him.

Then, you came along. Strange as it seems, you've seemed to have brought back that old feeling to him, awakening something deep inside of him. And though he doesn't know what you did, he thinks--he hopes that you could be the one. The one to possibly release him from the chains of solitude and longing.

You've rarely left his mind since the night he met you. The echoes of your first words to him lingered in his mind long after your encounter, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice was cloaked in both mystery and certainty, as though you held the threads of destiny within your grasp. It prompted him to ask who you were but your answer, “that’s for you to decide” only gave rise to more questions.

Then, there was that smile. So beautiful, so hopeful. It etched itself into the recesses of his memory. It was a smile no one had ever bestowed upon him before and one he longed to see it again.

And he almost ruined it all–that day he snapped at you after a session gone wrong with Elain. Your intentions were always pure. He knew this. No one was at fault as everything that transpired between you and Elain was completely consensual. But the scream that tore through Elain sent him in a heightened frenzy. He had sworn to Rhysand and Feyre, his High Lord and High Lady, that he would protect Elain. Before he could properly assess the situation, he had roughly pushed you aside with a growl. The hurt that flashed in your eyes in response haunted him nearly every night.

You began to actively avoid his gaze and presence whenever possible, and guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Even his shadows, missing your attention, seemed angry with him. Truth be told, he was angry with himself too. You had made friends with everyone. Everyone but him.

The following two weeks became a series of futile attempts at groveling, your obliviousness to it all cutting deeper than he cared to admit. The breaking point came when you missed dinner, and he knew it was time to set things right then. So he sent his shadows to look for you and when they reported back to him that you were sleeping in the library, he brought your dinner to you.

After that moment, the atmosphere between you two shifted. He became the chaser, gradually closing the distance between you.

You looked his way more, approached him with a newfound openness, and your conversations became more frequent. You teased him at times, even, with your cryptic words. But rather than frustrating him, it only made him seek you out more. He wanted to be the one to unravel the mystery that was you.

Somewhere down the line, his eyes stopped searching for Elain's. The private moments he sought with her became mere echoes of the past—no more lingering touches, exchanged glances, or pointless conversations. Instead, it was you who occupied the center of his attention, infiltrating his dreams and igniting desires he never knew he harbored.

You eased him like no other, effortlessly coaxing smiles and laughter from him. It was in these moments that the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning—he had never truly been in love during the first two instances. What he felt for you was different. He was unwilling to let his feelings linger in the shadows, as they had done before. He yearned for them to step into the light. To be acknowledged and acted upon openly.

He decided to wait until after Solstice to confess to you and hoped that your visions wouldn't give him away.

Laughter and clinks of wine glasses ring through the air. Azriel knows it’s time to open presents, his shadows singing loudly and overwhelming him with information. Cassian is sneaking a peak. Rhysand is rolling his eyes. Elain got Lucien a present. y/n is holding back tears.

Azriel tenses at the last bit of information, eyes immediately finding you. You’re seated beside Feyre–the two of you exchanging smiles. There’s an unwrapped present on your lap and his shadows dart toward it. It’s a small portrait of the Suriel. He hears you thank Feyre and he swears he can feel your ache of grief. He moves to stand from his seat but Elain stops him.

“Happy Solstice,” she says, holding out a small present. He takes the box albeit reluctantly but politely and opens it to find two tickets to an upcoming play.

Elain smiles at the frown he’s trying to hide.

"Elain, I can't--"

“Y/n mentioned always wanting to go see a play. I thought maybe you could be the one to take her. After you confess."

His eyes search hers for any traces of hurt. He’s relieved when he finds none but the frown in his brow remains. “How–”

“She trained me well," Elain replies, eyes shining with an all knowing gleam he's seen in yours. "She deserves to be happy. You both do and something tells me that she’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”

Gods, you and Elain have been hanging out so much with one another that now she’s beginning to talk like you. There's a tightening in his chest, like a band about to snap at her words.

Azriel looks back at Elain in question but she only smiles at him once more before retreating back to where she was sitting previously. Next to Lucien, who also sends a smile his way.

Looking down at the tickets, he thinks of you again. His shadows stir, mirroring the strange sensation in his chest. It’s almost like a pull and his shadows guide him toward it, turning his head for him. Just in time to catch a glimpse of you quietly slipping away from the festivities. His steps quicken as he follows you, pulling his coat along with him.

The soft flakes of snow flutter down, a delicate dance in the winter night. Despite weeks of continuous snowfall, the enchanting beauty of it never fails to captivate you. It differs markedly from the unforgiving snowstorms you endured while wandering the Night Court's forests. Though just as cold, it prompts an involuntary shiver, a reaction to the biting chill in the air.

As the door behind you creaks open, a rush of warmth accompanies its movement. The scent of cedar invades your senses, growing more intense as you feel a fabric drape over your shoulders, bringing forth an intimate warmth.

"Hey," Azriel breathes, a visible puff of white escaping his lips.

"Hi," you smile back at him, your fingers instinctively reaching for the coat that draped over your shoulders. You can't help but notice the thin sweater he wears. "Won't you be cold, though?"

Azriel stops you, securing his coat back onto your smaller frame with a reassuring smile. “I grew up in a camp where it snowed a lot more than this. I’ll be fine.”

You look back up at the night sky. The stars are shining so bright. It makes you wonder if they ever tire. They seem to answer you as their radiant beams cast a celestial glow upon you. Your vision blurs in surrender.

“What are you seeing?” Azriel inquires, curious. He hopes it's not the confession he's aching to spill.

Your eyebrows knit together, and you close your eyes, immersing yourself in deciphering the messages woven between the stars. Upon opening your eyes, you turn to Azriel, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

“You're going to get frostbite."

Azriel lets out an amused huff. "I don't care. As long as you're warm."

"We should head back inside," you suggest.

"No," Azriel insists, enfolding a wing around your form, anchoring you in place. His shadows can sense you don't want to go back inside yet. "I like being alone with you."

The wind nips at your cheeks, a sensation you welcome as it gives the perfect excuse for the blush creeping across your face. Tearing your gaze away from Azriel before he can discern his effect on you, you quietly share, "Nyx is going to say his first word in three days."

Azriel leans forward and you can feel his anticipation. A familial bet circulates among his uncles and aunts (save for Elain) regarding what the young heir’s first word will be. “What is it?”

“Cas.”

Azriel can't resist glancing back toward the house, his eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. There, he catches a fleeting glimpse of Cassian playfully hoisting Nyx in the air, the two engaged in a lively game of chase around the living room. When he turns his attention back to you, mischief twinkles in your eyes.

“You’re lying.”

“You fell for it."

And that smile he’s been longing for since he met you graces your lips as you laugh. A sweet and beautiful sound that warms the winter air. Azriel's gaze dips toward your lips, captivated by the sound, before lifting back to meet your eyes. He leans in even closer.

“I fell for you.”

You also lean in, eyes never leaving his. "The answer is yes."

"What?"

Azriel nearly stumbles back, caught off guard, but you remain close, lifting a hand and cradling his cheek. It's surprisingly warm and he instinctively leans into your touch. His eyes widen. Did you—

“To you taking me on a date,” you reveal, your smile deepening, and he swears his shadows snicker in response. “The vision I just saw. It was of me and you at a theater. Next Friday at seven.”

“Next Friday at seven,” Azriel confirms, a tender affection lighting up his expression.

The air seems to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting future. You reach out, tugging at the bond in your chest. Once again, there is only silence. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. Not when Azriel is gazing at you as though you are the very stars illuminating the night sky.

And then you're kissing him.

The snow crunches underfoot as Azriel moves, his usually keen senses dulled. His mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you. Even as the icy missiles fly past him, Azriel remains lost in the memories of shared glances and smiles and the way your lips felt so perfect against his last night.

For the first time in years, Azriel finds himself on the losing side of the annual snowball fight. Oddly, no disappointment lingers, even after meticulous planning for this anticipated victory. All he wants is to return home—to you.

Amidst the snowy chaos, revelation strikes him simultaneously with a snowball from Rhysand. The snap, the bond—everything falls into place. It all makes sense now. Your words when you first met. Elain’s words last night at Solstice. Why your presence thrilled and delighted him. Why he couldn't shake the feeling of love and adoration for you.

You are his mate.

The one he had been longing and pleading for, and the realization left him breathless. He shakes the snow from his face and Rhysand blinks back at him in surprise. The High Lord had been expecting a glare but he only finds pure shock on Azriel’s face.

“Oh come on, I didn’t hit you that hard,” he teases.

“I have to go.”

“If you leave, you’re forfeiting,” warns Cassian, but the glint in his eye betrays a desire for Azriel to leave, eager for a victory.

“I yield,” Azriel says mindlessly, surprising even Rhysand. Feeling his friend's talons probing his mind, Azriel throws up his shields and disappears into his shadows, abandoning the snow-covered battlefield. He'll explain later.

For now, he has to find you.

His shadows winnow him back to the River house and he doesn’t have to look for long because there you are, making your way down the last step and standing in his path. There’s not much that surprises you but that has changed since meeting Azriel and this moment is no different. Your eyes are widening, mouth parting.

“Azriel," you say. "What are you doing here? I thought you were–”

“It’s you,” Azriel interrupts breathlessly as if he was running, chest rising and falling quickly in step with the erratic beating of his heart. He’s bridging the distance between you. “All this time. It’s been you.”

You swallow thickly. “You know?”

The glimmer of hope that had ignited during Starfall returns to your eyes, revealing a world he hadn’t realized existed. How could he have been so blind?

Azriel smiles at you and it’s as if that’s the last piece to the puzzle as the bond between you both comes to life, singing loudly against your chests. He pulls you flush against him and spins you around, eliciting a delightful squeal from you. Cradling your face in his hands, he kisses your forehead, then the corners of your eyes. He saves your lips for last, lingering in the sweet taste of them for a moment longer.

“You’re my mate,” he says quietly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yes,” you manage to whisper back, surrendering yourself to the depths of his mesmerizing hazel eyes, just like in the vision from months ago. And it’s not you who speaks again but Azriel.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this (: It took me longer to write than I thought because i'm used to writing more angst for Az than fluff but I wanted this to be different. It's canon that Elain found out that reader and Az were mates through a vision around the same time she decided to give Lucien a chance. I just want them all to be happy ♡ in terms of my ABBA x ACOTAR series, I think I'll work on another one for Cas next inspired by Honey, Honey. If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!

tagging: @hellodarling1357

if you want to read more about Az x Seer reader, I wrote a couple of bonus scenes that didn't quite make the final cut. You can read them here.

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #abba x acotar

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yasu-1234 · 3 months

Text

losing your virginity to suguru geto.

pairing: suguru geto x afab reader words: 3,600 contains: oral sex, virginity loss, fingering, and suguru talking you through it. mood: soft, sweet, and tender. author's note: this was one of my favorites to write and i thought i should share it here too! also, let's be friends (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

You wonder what’s so different about this one Sunday morning.

You wake up with Suguru’s body pressed against you from behind. His lean arms wrapped around your torso. His cheek is pressed against the back of your neck, breathing and snoring softly, deeply, down your shoulder. He holds you as he always does: firmly, as if he was carrying you, and yet gently, as if you were fragile.

This isn’t the first time you woke up in his apartment, and it’s not the first time he ever spooned you in your sleep. Yet somehow your body feels warmer than before. And your skin feels more sensitive to his touch. His sweet and woody scent is heavy and enveloping, lulling you into a dizzying state of comfort. Not quite asleep, but not quite lucid and awake.

You feel him shift from behind you. And you feel something press against the back of your thighs. Something hard and thick and warm. Your legs flinch and your heart starts beating faster as you realize what it was. Suguru wakes up from the slightest tremor in your body. He raises his head to look at you with bleary eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice still deep and gravely from sleep.

You turn your head to meet him and smile, “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry to wake you up.”

He nearly melts at the way you’re nestled comfortably in his bed, in his arms. Your smile looks soft and pretty under the ray of sunlight pouring through the window. He hugs you tighter and nuzzles his face against your cheek, your neck. “I’m poking you aren’t I? Sorry.”

You blush and laugh softly, “It’s okay. It’s not like you can control it.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He points his hips away and lies his head back down the pillow. You feel your chest strain and your body ache from the loss of pressure and warmth. You pull his arms closer, tighter, around your torso like a blanket.

Suguru has always been so careful, so respectful. And so attuned with the ways your body reacts to him. He can feel the way your heart is pounding inside your chest as blood rushes from your heart to your skin, warming your entire body. He can hear the way your breath deepens as a strange sensation overcomes you. Heat. Desire. Lust.

Suguru nuzzles against your cheeks once again.

“Do you want it back?”

You lean towards his face, your voice barely a whisper.

“Yes.”

He turns his hips again to press his cock against you. Then he slides his leg in between yours. You didn’t even realize how badly you were aching for him, until he pressed his thigh against your cunt and relief washes over you. You hum in pleasure against the pillow.

“You need me don’t you?” he asks, as your thighs start squeezing and rutting his own, enjoying each pulse of pleasure against your clit.

You nod, biting your lip in anticipation.

“Okay,” he whispers. “We’ll take it slow, okay? You can tell me when to stop… when we’ll keep going…”

He starts moving his hips, grinding his cock languidly against your backside. You start rutting against his thigh in a similar rhythm. His fingers brush your hair to the back of your neck and start kissing an electrifying trail from under your ear to your collarbone, sniffing your scent as he goes. His lips are a bit dry from sleep, but you enjoy the contrast between the roughness of his lips and the softness of his kisses.

He pressed his hand firmly against your chest, grabbing a handful of your breast. Then it wanders down to your stomach, to your hips, to your thigh. It lingers under the hem of your shirt–his shirt. That you wear each time you sleep in his place. You take his wrist and pull it upwards, letting him touch your skin.

“I’m gonna raise your shirt. Is that okay? We’ll use the blanket if you’re cold,” he asks, with that smooth, gentle voice. As if his words are melting on his tongue.

“Okay,” you sigh. He reaches for the blanket pooled by your ankles and pulls it over you. Then he raises your shirt to your armpits and starts caressing your breasts. You shiver from the lightness of his touch.

“You’re so soft,” He sighs, rolling your breasts with a warm hand. He relishes the way your nipples shrivel in his fingertips. “So pretty…”

He pulls you gently by the shoulder, wanting you to face him. Your lips drift towards his. Suguru hums in approval, parting his lips to let your tongue meet him. He rolls over on top of you and lets the bare skin of your torsos press against each other, seeking comfort in the warmth and smoothness of your bodies.

Every kiss and every touch, even the scent of his skin, the taste of his tongue, and the small hums and groans from deep in his chest rushes straight down your spine and to your crotch. You pull away, forming a trail of saliva from your tongue to his. You look between his legs and notice his head peeking from under his waistband. The slit glistening with pre-cum.

“I wanna touch it,” you whisper.

“Please,” he replies, almost immediately. His voice is shaking now.

He takes your wrist and lets you fondle him over the fabric. His sweatpants barely cushion his massive length and girth. You caress him with a light and measuring touch. Sliding your hands up and down his hardening shaft, then cupping his balls, feeling how soft they are in the palm of your hand.

“What do you think?” He asks, smiling at the way you look at his crotch with lust-drunk eyes, your lips parted as you feel him. “Keep touching. Get used to the feeling.”

“It’s… thick,” you whisper with a mix of fear and hunger in your tone. Your hand sinks past his waistband, grabbing his shaft. His head drops down your neck with a hiss. His hips start to move, fucking your closed fist. His skin feels even smoother and thinner against your palm, textured slightly by the soft veins snaking underneath.

“I knew it,” he hisses between gritted teeth. “I knew your hand was gonna feel this good.”

He motions you to sit on your shin while he lies on his back. He pulls his sweatpants down to his thighs, exposing the thick cock laying heavily over his abs. He takes you by the wrist and wraps your hand around the shaft, just underneath the crown.

“Keep playing with it, baby. Make me feel good,” he mutters as he wraps his hand around your fist and starts jacking. Teaching you to his preferred rhythm and grip. “I know you can do it.”

You follow his instructions, gazing into his eyes as you gauge his reaction. His cheeks are flushed deep red, his eyes glazed over as he bites his lips and watch your hand slide up and down. He reaches towards your waistband and sinks his hand under your panties from behind.

You feel his finger slide between your lips.

“Aah!” You whimper and shudder. Your hand stops moving as he glides his finger back and forth against your slick cleft.

He wraps his free hand around yours once again and urges you to keep pumping.

“Try to concentrate,” he says with a gentle tone. “I’m just making sure you stay wet while you’re working on me.”

You nod try your goddamn best. But his fingers just feel so long, so smooth and slick, as he teases your bud with each languid stroke. You knew that Suguru had some experience, but it was only around now that you realized the depth of his skill. You start twitching and throbbing against his finger. Your thighs squeezing his hand to trap him in place.

“So sensitive. Have you ever touched yourself? At least once?” He asks, a playful smile on his face. He seems to be enjoying the way you struggle to stay upright and still.

“Of course I have,” you reply, pouting. “But it feels different when it’s you.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiles. “Do you think of me?”

You blush and look away. “I mean, who else do I think about?”

You feel his cock spasm in the palm of your hand. He chuckles softly.

“I think about you too. But this feels better than I imagined.”

He slides a second finger between your lips, now drawing circles on your aching clit. You grunt and whine. The ticklish sensation is too dull, too soft, to relieve the ache building between your legs. You look at him and notice that slight, mischievous slant on the corner of his mouth. He knows he’s torturing you. He’s relishing that starved look in your eyes.

Indignant, you bend down and give a soft lick on the tip of his cock.

“Fuck!” He grunts. His breathing grows heavier as you glide a soft tongue around and around the slit. “Hah… Holy shit.”

“Not so fun when you’re the one being teased, right?” You ask.

Suguru huffs and laughs.

“Are you kidding? I love it,” he replies. “Fuck me up, babe. Make a mess out of me. I wanna beg.”

You bite your lip and smile. Emboldened, you bend down and wrap your lips around the crown of his cock and start coating him with your mouth. Absorbing him, caressing him with your lips and tongue. Suguru groans low, his thighs nearly vibrating underneath your palm as he summons all of his will not to shoot his hips up and gag you with his length.

The taste of his dew drop reminds you of all things honeyed and sweet—ripe mangoes, fresh peach, a drop of caramel, enhanced by the delicate saltiness of his skin. His scent is warmer and smokier like burning wood. And somehow thick and sweet like amber. You dip your head down, wanting to taste more. You want to feel his veins against your tongue, his tip on the roof of your mouth, inching closer to the back of your throat. You suck him with eagerness and hunger that provokes his greed.

“Keep stroking me, baby. Suck the tip and stroke the rest,” he mumbles. “Stroke me while you suck me. Please.”

You wrap your hand around the base of his shaft and start sliding in tandem with your mouth. Suguru groans louder now. The balls of his feet digging and dragging against the mattress. His fingers circle harder on your clit, rewarding you with mutual pleasure.

"Mmph… " You hum as you start rutting against his fingers, and his cock nearly bursts from the vibrations in your throat.

“Oh God, wait. Baby–baby wait. Not so fast,” he gasps, grabbing you by the hair to keep you steady. But you move your head faster anyway, your hand tightening and swiveling around his shaft, wanting to drag him to the edge and lose all control.

“Okay–No–stop, stop, stop,” he pants, pulling you upwards by the scalp. He pries your mouth out of his cock with a wet smack. “Don't make me cum just yet. Not there.”

He sits up and slides you down the bed by the hip, pulling your crotch towards him. Suguru sinks between your legs and pulls your panties to the side, peeking like a chef with his pot. Not only have you soaked through the thin, lacy fabric, he can also see the way your clit and your folds flutter and quiver in anticipation. The feel of his heavy breathing alone is enough to make your hips jump.

“All this for me?” he teases. “I’m touched.”

You bite your thumb and grin towards him. Like a child about to be handed a new toy. Suguru pulls your panties off and starts kissing and nipping the inside of your thighs.

“My turn to take care of you, okay?” he asks, his lips seeking permission, hovering so close to your bud. And when you nod, he dives in. Suguru cycles through several techniques, trying to gauge which one you like best–a wide soft tongue, perhaps small precise licks, hard or soft suckling. And once he finds the right brain-blasting combo his mouth becomes relentless. He spreads your thighs and pins them unto the bed, giving him more access. You grasp, white-knuckled, the pillow underneath you. And you release a low, animalic grunt.

“I know, baby, I know,” he mutters before he dives once again. “Just keep feeling it. Feel good for me, baby. You need to be ready.”

“I am ready,” you plead. Every fiber of your muscle begs for release. Your hips begin to squirm away from him, trying to save your pussy from overstimulation. Suguru had to shift his hands and pin your hips down. “Please just-”

“Not yet,” he cuts off. He reaches upwards to hold two fingers near your mouth. “Spit.”

You look at him, bewildered. He commands you again.

“Spit.”

Reluctant, you gather saliva on your tongue and pour it down his fingers. Suguru sinks back down and starts teasing your entrance. Then he slides a finger. And another. Loosening you up with his lips around your clit.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, as he moves his fingers in and out.

You shake your head, “No. But it feels stretched. Right around the entrance.”

“You need to relax,” he murmurs. “Play with your tits for me, will you?”

You nod and slide your hand on the underside of your breasts, rolling them together, teasing your sensitive nipples. You watch Suguru work his lips and fingers on your core. His hair pooling between your legs. His eyes hazy with love and concentration as he makes a mess out of your cunt. Dribbling all the way down his wrist and chin. Eventually, the stretching sensation fades and you feel softer, more malleable, under his touch.

Suguru sits up and starts jacking his cock. His eyes wander over the flushed and dripping mess of flesh he made out of his own girlfriend. Panting as he imagines his cock driving straight inside you. He leans down and aims his tip between your legs. You flinch and look away in a sudden spike of nervousness.

“No, baby. Hey, look at me,” Suguru says with a soft, low, voice, tilting your face towards him. You look up and meet his gentle, earnest eyes. “I love you, okay? It’s just me. You know I won’t do anything to hurt you.”

He starts kissing your forehead, your lips, your neck, your shoulders. You try to focus on your breathing, drawing on every pleasurable sensation you’ve felt before this moment.

“It’s just a new feeling. You just have to get used to me. You just have to get used to feeling this part of your body.” he whispers, as he starts prodding you with the tip of his cock, coating himself with your fluids. “And once you’ve done it… you’ll crave it again.”

You nod, taking in his words. "Okay. I trust you."

"Good. Good girl."

You grit your teeth and whimper as you feel him enter. He thrusts into you inch-by-inch, pushing and withdrawing and stopping as necessary. It hurts. Then it doesn’t hurt. It’s uncomfortable, and then it’s not. You wrap your arms around him and pull him closer to your body, wanting to be crushed by his entire weight. While somehow wanting to push him away. While wanting to strangle him. While wanting to embrace him. To caress him. To scratch him.

He plunges into a place in your body you never realized was there. And more of him keeps coming and coming. Pushing towards an unknown depth you can never reach on your own. But it’s just him. It’s just Suguru. And you know that he’ll always treat you with unrelenting tenderness and soothing. He’ll never hurt you.

You dig your fingers on the back of his neck as you gaze into the ceiling with bleary eyes. Your head spins. You don’t know for how long you’ve been holding your breath. And if he hadn’t held you the way he did, perhaps your soul would have fallen backwards from your body.

“Yes, God, yes. Just take me, please,” he pleads as he kisses your neck. “I’m almost in…”

He leans down and takes your nipple in his mouth. The sudden prick of pleasure drives him further inside of you, all the way in, until he’s buried to the hilt with a long, satisfied groan. Your cunt clenches and quivers, plugged to the stomach by his girth, surprised that you managed to take this much of him.

“Do you feel that? That’s all of me,” he says, caressing your cheek with tender fingers, laughing softly in wonder. “We’re gonna make love. God, I love you.”

He laces his fingers between yours and kisses you deeply. And even the spaces between your fingers are sensitive to his touch.

"I love you too," you whimper. "I'm all yours."

Suguru’s hips start swiveling in circles against yours. Letting you get used to his length and girth. Then he rocks his hips back and forth in slow, shallow strokes. Fucking you with impossible gentleness. Measuring how fast and how hard he can go before you start to hurt again. Like you have all the time in the world. But you bury your face in his neck, biting his shoulder as you take more and more. Soon, you feel even looser, more comfortable, and the pleasure begins to overtake all else.

You start moving your hips in tandem with his.

“Yes, fuck,” he hisses against your neck. “That’s right baby, make love to me. Feel good with me.”

He picks up the pace, slamming his hips against you and nearly driving you towards the headboard. He’s stretching you again, his shaft slicing against your tight entrance. But Suguru angles his cock and jabs a spot underneath your belly that nearly makes you cry. You no longer mind the pain that’s so deliciously mixed with pleasure. And you notice that any coherent thought escapes you, and any words you want to say dies in your throat. You barely have enough air in your lungs to even moan his name. Or any strength in your arms and legs to keep clinging to him. So you simply lie there and feel him. Feel the way he thrusts and sinks into you. Feel his smooth hand on your waist. Feel his breath against your face as he rambles sweet degeneracy into your ear.

“You’re so tight. So fucking tight. Oh, you’re gonna milk me dry,” he mutters under his breath. “A good girl with a good pussy. I’m so fucking lucky.”

You feel the pleasure build from under your belly, on your clit, your nipples. And then you shatter. Your stomach tightens like a board and your body recoils as the pleasure overtakes you. White hot light bursts in front of your eyes and splatter into pinpricks of color. You scream and cry against the crook of his neck. Your pussy clamping around his cock. Suguru hooks his arm under your waist and thrusts even faster; eager to milk himself while you’re still wound up and tight from your orgasm. The pleasure starts to feel rawer, searing like an electric shock. A gradient from pleasure to pain.

“I know baby, I know, just bear with it. Just bear with it for me. I’m so close,” he grunts, face tight from euphoria. “I’m so close, please, let me cum.”

His jaw clenches and you feel a burst of warmth right inside of you. His hips stutter helplessly by the strength of his orgasm. And then it finally stops. He holds still. His hard grunts melt into soft moans and heavy breathing. Together, you hang onto that boneless, satisfied trance; your minds slipping into reverie. His cock stays buried inside of you for moments, but it feels like a part of you now. Even as he slowly pulls away you still feel him under your skin. The feeling of his touch, the warmth of his breath, the weight and thickness of his cock when it dwelled inside you, feels less of a vivid memory. And more of a phantom sensation that will linger for as long as you let it.

Suguru props himself with both elbows and gazes upon you with love and reverence. He plants a tender kiss on your lips.

“Thank you.”

You laugh weakly, “Thank you? ”

He nods. “Yes, thank you. For the memory, for the trust, for the love.”

Suguru brushes your hair away from your forehead and kisses you there. Letting his lips linger. Then you gaze at each other in euphoric wonder. You have melded with him in body and soul. In pleasure and love. Your skins are matted and slick with sweat, and you can feel his semen dripping down between your thighs; the light from the window bears down your heads like halos. You feel anointed and transformed. And your bodies now feel less like a mystery to yourselves and to each other. Everything has changed now. And your relationship with Suguru will never be the same. The memory of your lovemaking will lie in the undercurrent of your every interaction, now that he has untethered a craving inside your minds. That ever-present need to feel this sense of closeness once again.

Suguru nuzzles his face against yours. Holding your bodies completely still as you take a shared breath and bask in the intimacy, in the sacredness, of this moment.

thank you for giving this fanfic a chance! pls excuse me if the grammar, dialogue, choreography, and narration is awkward. english is not my first langauge and a lot of things get lost in translation inside my head. originally posted on ao3 art by m_mifmr on x

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 3 months

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≡;-꒰ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝑩𝒆𝒅

── mdni sexual content ; little headcanons with the boys that i desperately needed to get off my chest. inclusive of vaginal sex, pet name usage, dirty talk ✨

caleb would always lose all sense of self-control whenever he's with you, thoughts of taking it easy, thoughts of taking things slow, all quickly disappearing the minute he slips into your gummy walls. he's always trying his best to be gentle, always trying his best to attune his actions to your wishes... but you're too addicting. it's hard for him not to be selfish; he has so, so much pent up for you. deep groans and broken curses would fall from his lips in a constant lull, sometimes calling you doll, sometimes calling you pretty, sometimes calling you baby—but the ever-present pipsqueak will always be there. and it will drive you insane.

rafayel would always find every moment to tease you, singsongy voice forming dirty words of affirmation up against your ear. "yeah" would be a frequent—things like "yeah? you like that?" or "fuck, yeah, just like that." interchangeably, and whether he's hovering over you or splayed out beneath you, his smirk would be present and unrelenting. he'd ramble on and on, never shutting up about how wet you are, how well you take his cock, how pretty you look unraveling for him... finding every way to get you riled up, every nickname to make you clench tighter around his length. one cutie, buttercup, miss bodyguard, princess... and you're easily a mess.

xavier's voice would be soft and articulate, hot against your skin even with his cock buried inside you. his hands would rarely stray from your body, caressing you, touching you, making you feel good. and he'd love burying his face into the crook of your neck, whispering praises, calling you angel, calling you princess, sometimes slipping out a "my lady" as a force of habit. there would be soft murmurs of how good you feel, a whimper or a whine falling from his lips every now and then. and "i promise..." becomes a staple in his vocabulary—"i promise i'll be so good for you", "i promise i'll make you feel so, so good", depending on if you're bouncing over his cock, or he's rolling his hips against yours.

zayne would have you wrapped around his finger, wrapped around him—literally and figuratively. you'd seek to obey his every word, his tone of voice as icy as his evol, only to contradict the warmth of his body radiating off of yours, the warmth in his gaze sending spikes of heat down to your very core. he'd be commanding with you, direct—never stuttering, never cursing, the only hint of a loss in composure being the way his ears would redden, his body shuddering over how your cunt would flutter around his length, cock twitching deep in your heat, hips roughly snapping up to yours. but his words are so gentle. he'd call you sweetheart, guide you to look at him, egg you to voice out anything you felt—"use your words, sweetheart. let me hear you."

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

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avatarkv · 10 months

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EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (2)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc: 5264)

You swung your legs over the edge, feet ghosting just above the calm lake that surrounded this part of the forest. It was a bit far from the village, but you felt more at ease knowing that you wouldn’t be found easily. This was your own place and ironically enough, a spot you and Jake had found years ago. You could see the familiar marks left from the arrows you had shot, deeply engraved in some of the trunks.

One drawing had caught your eye. From one of the trees, a bit taller than the rest; an image of you and your father. It was silly, clearly etched by the hands of a kid no older than six. The lines were harsh as the wood itself was tough, but it was there– almost mockingly. You scoffed, mindlessly grabbing a pebble and flinging it right on the center.

You have barely moved since you arrived here; detached yourself the moment you had sat near the jagged rocks. It was a habit you presumed you got from Jake. The longer you stayed, the more you succumbed to your ever-bleeding wounds– there was just something so tragic about being an eldest daughter.

You weren’t all bite, despite the constant snarl on your lips. You weren't so egotistical as to think that you couldn't possibly be wrong, but tonight, tonight you knew damn well Jake was to blame.

‘Is it because I’m not your daughter?’

Your own voice had rang through your mind. You wince in response, cringing internally. That could very well be the case– you weren't part of their family. You can’t help but think that they may have done it out of pity.

But Kiri wasn’t exactly their own either. In fact, you and Kiri weren’t at all opposites at birth.

While you came from Tsu’tey, she was from Grace; both of you from separate blood and brought together by one. However you weren’t exactly close to Eywa or have the skills she possessed. Kiri was undeniably special– spiritual and awfully attuned. Heck, she had managed to tame her own ikran simply by asking it to be her friend.

Still, there was no reason for Jake to treat you differently. You were jealous– of course you are. If he’s able to be as gentle as he is with your baby sister, why couldn’t he with you? It was a sickening thought, to think that he acts so rigid and unrelenting around you while he looked at her like she had hanged every star in the night sky. Sure Kiri was special, but you were at least his daughter too. Can’t he spare you even just a second of a loving glance?

With Kiri, he listens intently– looks at her with such tenderness as he takes in her every word. It was the same gaze he wore whenever we visited the sky-people lab; Jake would stare a bit too long at Grace, expression somewhere along the line of reminiscing. Whenever he had moments like these, his eyes would hold some sort of longing– a promise. Perhaps it was because Grace meant the world to him– literally. She taught him everything about Pandora, showed him the way of the Na’vi; gave him another shot at living.

Kiri was exactly like her mother; wise and cunning. Jake probably sees Grace in her very image.

You’d think this would be the embodiment of every father with their daughters; kind and vulnerable, but you would argue otherwise. When he looked at you, it was more of regret– grief prolonging. It was a gaze so ugly and unwanted; a weight you’re not supposed to carry.

Because you’re exactly like Tsu’tey and Jake sees him in yourself.

It was no secret that Jake was softer when it came to Tuk and Kiri. While you are relieved that it had been that way, you can never pray for them to experience the struggles you are burdened with– it tugged on your heartstrings that you would never feel the warmer side of your father; will never know how it feels to be babied nor to be held gently.

You were her daughter too so you didn’t understand. What made you any different from them that you had to pretend his love was hidden beneath his icy glares and dismissive grunts? These were emotions nonetheless– however odd or minuscule they may have been. You thought that maybe, just maybe, there’d be a crack to this exterior. Maybe if you tried harder, Jake would soften up to you too.

But that wasn’t the case because he never did. You had picked apart pieces of yourself that you thought weren’t pleasing– did better despite your age. You were young and only yearned for your father’s approval.

( “You’re not doing it right. Again.”

As you stretched your already sore arms for the nth time, ready to take aim, his hands tug on your stance– a bit harsher than intended. Light continued to glare down on your figure as you tirelessly corrected your posture again. Your ears pricked up at the sound of your sibling’s laughter, coming to you from afar. You stole a glance at them as they continued to play and enjoy themselves by the water, their childish exuberance highlighted by their splashing around in the shallow waves.

“Can’t I take a break?” You whined, dropping your stiff shoulders. Hearing them have fun made you want to jump in as well.

“I didn’t let you talk my ear off just to give up. Come on, you promised me a bullseye today, baby girl.” He said, eyebrows furrowing a bit. You look down to your feet, a bit embarrassed. You didn’t want him to not take you seriously– you fear that if you let him down now, he wouldn’t let you do anything again. “Just one hit and I’ll let you off–”

His head turns sharply towards Kiri as she calls out for Jake, asking him to join them in their game. He can't help but to let out a small chuckle as he yells back a short response of ‘in a minute.’

“Again, come on.” His hands move quickly and firmly grasp your arms, helping you back to the same position before. “I’ll be watching, promise.” With a light tap on your shoulder, he rushes off, chasing after your siblings towards the water.

The quicker you got it done, the sooner you would be able to play. You pulled on the string again and released a heavy sigh before releasing the arrow. After several tries of firing shots that missed their mark, you finally managed to hit dead center with one shot. Your eyes widen in surprise, disbelief crossing your face before you jump excitedly, “Did you see that, dad? Did you–”

Your yell was instantly drowned out by Lo'ak's hearty laugh. You couldn't help but feel deflated as you watched your father lift him up onto his shoulders while the others trailed behind them in a fit of giggles. You run towards them, bow in hand.

“You weren’t watching–” You tried to pull his hand in your direction, gesturing towards the arrow that was still firmly embedded into the red ring you had created on the trunk of the tree.

"Ah, darn, I missed it?" He said between breathy chuckles as Kiri tried to tug on his tail from behind, barely taking note of your work. "Why don't you do it again? This time I'll be sure to pay attention."

“But I want to play with you now.”

“Dad– Neteyam caught something! It’s huge, come look!” Jake slowly lowers Lo'ak from his shoulders, letting them pull him towards where Neteyam stood. The children squealed at the sight of the fish (with Kiri letting out a few disgusted gags), but Jake reveled in pride. “Yeah, Neteyam, the mighty fisherman!”

You stayed still on the shore watching them– watching him. It was so easy to lose your father’s attention despite your best efforts. You retreated back to your spot, eyes glaring at the arrow sticking out from the tree. If a single bullseye wasn’t enough to impress Jake, then you’d just have to perfect your aim. Your hits will never miss again and you’ll make him proud.)

You were clueless. If only you knew that there was no satisfying your father, you would’ve spent the days tirelessly training to play instead– to be an actual kid without having the worries of a grown adult.

You could leave. At the thought of it, your head swiveled towards the unfamiliar path that would take you away from the clan– away from everything you know. You could leave and never come back; take your father’s name and build your own person. There was this selfish thought pricking at the back of your brain that once they noticed your absence, everyone would look for you and even feel sorry for what they put you through; that Jake would be sorry to lose you.

You wonder what kind of reputation you'd leave for him when everyone realizes you had run away, never to come back. But it was unfair– your mother would be devastated. Neytiri had already gone through enough, were you worth another heartbreak? She didn’t deserve that.

Suppose you could only dream that Jake would put on an effort for a search party– for him to grow hopeless and regretful while searching for you. You could only dream that he’d run towards you, arms wide open. “You scared me, sweetheart. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, dad’s sorry.”

But you’ve been away for hours and no one has reached out yet. They probably assumed that you only needed some time and space to clear your head, not seeing any cause for alarm. The only thing that waited for you back home was a hell of a scolding and a week’s punishment of tending the ikrans. Sighing, you decided to just head back.

Your steps are careful– silent, as you near your hut again. You expected for the worst. Neytiri could have told Jake to stay guard outside until you finally decided to come home for all you know, but you weren’t ready for another heated conversation with him just yet. So as you make your way back, you stick your neck out behind the bushes, trying to make out of the surroundings.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jake that was waiting outside. It was Kiri. Her figure glows underneath the starry night and it was hard not to be discouraged, but you suppose it was better than having to deal with your father again.

"Kiri?" You called out in a low voice, and instantly her head snapped up. She quickly jumps to her feet upon seeing your arrival, heart racing as she rushes towards you. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms tightly around you in a hug. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to try and steady herself. “Oh great mother, thank you.”

You tentatively put your arms around her in response, hands patting the top of her head. “This isn’t the first time I ran from home,” Your voice is soft– unsure.

Feeling your hesitance, she slowly withdraws from you. “But it’s the first time sempul has said something so..” She stops herself mid-sentence, shaking her head as if to clear away her thoughts. “I worry you’d finally want to leave.”

You stared at her, feeling your insides soften. You could never get angry at Kiri, no matter the situation. You couldn’t just leave. She was your sister still and no one would ever understand you like she does. No one will ever grow you another sibling. As much as you hated yourself, you were meant to watch as she thrives.

Siblings were such a weird concept; it was hard for you to wrap your head around it. Despite the fact that you could hate them with every fibre of your being, you’d still love them unconditionally and protectively; despise them but burn down the whole universe for their safety. It made no sense to be so full of such strong, conflicting emotions all at once, but she was your sister and that was enough explanation.

“Stupid eywa-powers.” You joke as you take your index finger, lightly pressing it against her forehead. She playfully swats your hand away with a laugh, eyes crinkling.

She silently murmurs, “Not stupid” to herself, a small laugh escaping her lips.

You two slowly sat on your wicker chairs in front of the fire. The seat creaked as you made yourself comfortable. Jake was real handy with his hands back then– made all sorts of things for everyone. Wooden Toruks, comfortable hammocks, and each one a special chair. Everyone’s name was etched on the back and although it was a bit smaller now, considering it was made for when you were toddlers, no one had grown out of sitting on it.

You smiled at the memory. It was like tradition for the Sully family– a silly one, but loved nonetheless. He first made you the wicker chair and although it was rather flimsy, you argued that Neteyam should have one as well when he came around.

It was so conflicting– to be able to remember your father was mean, despite being kind, then to know him as kind, despite being mean. You fear Jake could be every word you think of but the word father.

“Remember that time when we played hide-and-seek and we all thought Lo’ak cheated by hiding back at home only to find out we left him at the forest?” Kiri spoke, eyes fixated at the flames.

You chuckled, “Yeah, even dad was in on it– told us not to tell mom that we left him.”

“Oh– and that one time they left us to Mo’at to have their little dates and came home to see grandma knocked out and her hut a mess?”

You laughed, rather loudly this time. You remembered the memory like it was yesterday– little Neteyam wrapped from head to toe in bandages as you two tried to play healers; pastes and herbs were scattered everywhere while Lo’ak was playing to his own devices happily (something about kid Lo’ak and wanting to play alone most of the time). “Lo’ak and his lisp trying to explain why he was covered in warrior paint all over his body.”

“Ki-ti told me to do it!” Kiri squeaked out in her best impression of Lo’ak, before both of you burst into smothered laughter— careful not to wake anyone up. After taking a few moments to catch your breath, the area was silent once more. There was no sound other than the crackle of the fire, its flame illuminating the darkness in the vicinity.

“I’m trying to see the situation in both perspectives,” She starts once the quietness grows unbearable. You averted your gaze, not wanting to talk it out with her.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it, Kiri.” You threw your head back, your eyes burning a hole into the night sky.

“I just don’t want it to explode like what happened a while ago again.”

You kiss your teeth and let out an exasperated sigh, tongue clicking as you exhale. Deep down you knew that there was no getting out of this situation, so you may as well hear what they had to say. “Fine. What’s your diagnosis, doc?”

The flap of the hut's entrance is suddenly thrown back, revealing a rather disoriented looking Lo'ak stumbling out. It's clear he had just been stirred from his slumber. “You two aren’t as quiet as you think you are.” He said, his voice low. He made his way over to Kiri and sat down beside her with an audible yawn. “What is it this time?”

“Eywa tells me of your troubles,” Kiri starts, ignoring Lo’ak. “Father isn’t at all the greatest, I know, but he’s trying– His choices aren't really the best, but it’s what he knows. If you think about it, he was just as young once and you don’t exactly become a father twice.”

“What are you saying?”

“She’s saying– cut him some slack, maybe?” Lo'ak breaks the stillness with an unexpected remark, his voice quite loud in comparison to Kiri's careful words. His comment catches you off guard and you shift your position uncomfortably on your seat.

“Brother, you really have to stop going out with Spider. You and your lingo is getting harder and harder to discern.” Kiri jabs him from the side, “What he means to say is– maybe you should try being the bigger person instead?”

You let out a deep breath through your nostrils, not enjoying the direction of the conversation. Your brow crinkles in concentration as you try to make sense of why the discussion was taking this turn. You had no desire to pick apart the problem any further and yet, here you were– perhaps Neytiri told them to talk some sense to you? To quiet down for the sake of your old man?

Already sensing your anger, Lo’ak quickly interjects again. “Listen, It’s like,” He turns to you, the grogginess in his expression fading away and being replaced by something more serious. “If dad happens to reprimand us, we save our excuses or any reason we have. The response he wants is an apology and an apology is what you’re going to say– that’s it.”

“But that’s unfair.” You let out a groan, lips turning into a deep frown. “Especially to you and Neteyam.”

Lo’ak only lets out a playful scoff, as if he’s trying to lighten the mood. “You mean, especially to Neteyam. Bro’s an automated machine– expect him to immediately take the blame.” He says, grinning. “I think dad is just.. cracking the code still? Shit, I don’t know. He had to learn to live on two different stars. It must be hard on him.”

“Doesn’t it hurt you? Trying to understand someone older?”

Lo’ak stills for a minute as heavy silence envelopes everyone. “Of course it does. It stings a lot sis– but I think, no parent deserves a resentful son when all they wanted was for me to be better.”

Then it crashes down upon you like a heavy sack filled with rocks, a realization pressing directly against your chest as you watch Lo’ak’s face, illuminated against the flicker of the flames– the lights cast an image you failed to recognize before. Your brothers weren’t exactly immune to Jake’s ways either. He was equally as tough on them.

Maybe you can try for their sake. Maybe you should take the initiative instead of waiting for your father’s open arms.

“Why don’t you join us tomorrow instead? Take your mind off things. We’re visiting the old shack with Spider,” Lo'ak's hand carefully reaches for your hair, the tips of his fingers ruffling through your braids– a gesture he picked up after Neteyam. You chuckle, suddenly slightly embarrassed.

“Isn’t it dangerous?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.

“It is,” Kiri answers for Lo’ak, giving him a pointed glare. “Tuk heard about it and is begging to come along.”

“More like blackmailed me– I’ll tell mom if you won’t let me come.” He put on a mocking impression of Tuk, sticking his tongue out in an exaggerated way. Kiri gave him another jab, causing him to hiss in response. “But it should be safe.”

Kiri rolls her eyes. “We are so getting into trouble.”

“You guys go,” You say, back resting against the chair again. “Think I should fix the situation with dad first before getting in trouble again.”

You feel Kiri’s eyes on you– gaze emitting a sense of gratitude, almost like a tangible thank you for trying. It’s funny how she’s younger than you and yet she looked out for you more than you had.

You let out a deep sigh as the three of you settled in, reveling in the quiet serenity of the woods. The soft sounds of the forest enveloped you, providing a sense of calm that was hard to miss. Slowly, it lulled you all to a familiar kind of comfort.

Breakfast was unsurprisingly silent.

You felt like the room was full of robots, their limbs jerking and movements mechanically programmed as they ate. As everyone shifted ever so slightly, it seemed almost like they were doing it robotically - stiff and slow. It was like they were walking on eggshells around you and it was hard not to roll your eyes.

It was painfully awkward– a hard watch as Jake tried hard not to make eye contact with you. Neytiri would occasionally jab him from the side and pinch the fat of his thigh. ‘Talk to her.’ – her glare would send him the message.

He lets out a sigh before visibly gulping. “Y/n.”

Your head suddenly jerks upwards from the bowl resting in your lap, startled by your father’s voice calling for you. Neytiri watches in anticipation while your heart pounded madly against your chest. Suddenly, the air fills with tension as all movement ceases. Not a single soul speaks or breathes– waiting.

“Pass the salt.” Jesus Christ.

You give him a deadpan expression, stretching your arms over to pass it to him. He carefully takes it, shaking it over his already salty meal. Neytiri could only push her hands against her face in frustration, a groan of exasperation coming from deep within. After a few minutes, she finishes up and leaves with Tuk in her arms. The rest follow suit.

“I’m off,” You finish cleaning up the table, standing up from your seat and grabbing the weapons you needed for an impromptu hunt. Without waiting for a reply, you left Jake alone on the table.

As you trekked further into the forest, you prayed to Eywa for guidance. You were careful to smear the war paint onto your cheeks and forehead– breathing labored, but focused nonetheless.

You figured, your father has been doing bad from the recent hunts– only coming home with fruits and small portions of meat, sometimes none at all. It was that kind of season where the animals were out to hide and hibernate. You didn’t know where you got the confidence that you’d be able to return with something, considering the best next best warriors could hardly do so.

You had to try regardless; you thought that perhaps it could be a way for you and Jake to open up a conversation with each other. Maybe he could soften down his glare a bit when you come home with something to eat– but as hours passed and the sun burned to noon, you were only met with disappointment.

You stopped by an unfamiliar area, leaning against a tree as you tried to catch your breath. You regret not bringing your ikran with you– just what were you thinking?

As if the great mother had noticed your desperation, a familiar sound roars from a distance. Your ears perked up as you tried to walk through the thick bushes. A lone sturmbeest, drinking by the river. You sighed in relief before hurriedly taking your bow out of your back. They mostly traveled by a herd, but today might just be your luckiest– you stretch your arms, carefully approaching the animal.

Just this once, you pleaded, be in my favor.

The journey home was dreadful. You had been carrying meat and a few bones for what seemed like hours on end, feeling the strain in your back from the task. It was a small sturmbeest– presumably female by the size, but it should be enough to provide meals for a week or so. Before you knew it, eclipse approached fast and you were eager to meet your hammock.

You couldn’t see; unable to hold any form of light as you needed both hands to carry the heavy sack, but the thought of going home with something to proudly show your father rekindled the sense of pride that was long gone; a feeling you hadn't had in a long time– burned by the countless times you’ve tried to gain even a drop of recognition.

You were successful in hunting a sturmbeest when no one couldn’t for the past weeks– your father would be proud and that was all the strength you needed to continue waking.

Noticing the familiar path back to the clan, a surge of adrenaline courses through your body from the thought of already nearing home. But as the horns blared from the village, you felt nothing but confusion– What could it mean and why this late? You quickened your pace towards them.

Ikrans flew in, landing at the open space as everyone gathered around. You squeezed your way in through the crowd– stomach churning as the sound of Tuk's cries became more and more clear with every step; but before you could run to your baby sister, you were harshly pulled back. You immediately recognize your father’s calloused hands, but this time his grip was harsh– unrelenting. Careful not to trip on your feet, you steadied yourself, head looking up to meet his glare.

“Where were you?”

And just like that, your thoughts come crashing down around you from the sight of your father towering your figure, leaning in slightly. You feel it in the pit of your stomach; this wasn't what you wanted to come home to, this wasn't what you were expecting.

“Sir I–”

“The kids are hurt,” Neytiri hissed, tugging him sharply away from you. “For once, hold your tongue.”

He gives you one last glance, nostrils flaring as he walks away. That was your cue to trail behind. You walked behind him, eyes cast downwards as your thoughts raced through your mind. Neytiri is quick to come and stand by your side, soft kisses pressed into the top of your head. “Are you hurt, ma’ite? Where were you?” She softly asks.

You pause, feeling the words on the tip of your tongue leave the moment you try to open your mouth to speak. For some reason, you felt embarrassed— ashamed.

“What happened?” You whispered as you neared your grandmother’s hut. You glanced back to your sibling’s shivering figures, all of them unable to look you in the eye. Neytiri didn’t answer either– didn’t know how to tell you that they had found them once again. They processed the severity of the situation still, clearly shaken up and scared.

Everyone stepped inside, Mo'at immediately gathering each of them in a warm embrace. She spoke her thanks to Eywa in a gentle murmur, kissing the top of their heads. Neytiri quickly drew Tuk into her own arms, easing her shaking body.

“Outside, now.” Jake whispers before leaving. You take one last look around at all the people in the room before finally following him, your palms beginning to sweat as your anxiety intensifies.

Once you both find yourselves in a place where there were no lingering stares or whispers, (and without Neytiri having to save your ass this time), he turns to you, anger just as fiery as before. He strides back and forth, feet heavy on the ground as he attempts to choose his words carefully.

“I–” He started to speak, but then averted his gaze, his jaw clenched tight as he tried again. “Where were you?”

You try to swallow the lump forming in your throat as you mull over the question, taking a deep breath before finally attempting to answer. “I went out on a hunt. I have–”

“Without telling anyone firsthand? With scattered avatars over the perimeter?” Jake is quick to interject, arms flailing in anger. “Just what were you thinking? You knew about them going to the old shack and you did nothing to prevent it?”

Your shoulders slump wearily, feeling extremely overwhelmed. “I only wanted to–”

“Jesus Christ, it’s always about what you want, yeah? You with wanting to be olo’eykte, you with wanting to be heard. You and your goddamn wants had us all worried!”

And as you listen to him raise his voice, you turn younger and younger– until you were that same kid trying to tug on his arms to look at your first hit; that same kid who would do anything just for a moment of his time. It was like being ten years old all over again and realizing that he was slowly slipping away. That’s where you finally decided that Jake— your father, was just capable of unloving a child.

You take a step back, feeling the frustration boiling over as well. “Well maybe if you were a better father, they wouldn’t have the need to go against you every once in a while!” You shouted with the same volume as his, “You act as if we’re some sort of troops rather than a family–”

“I do it for you– for everyone! To keep them safe! You think it’s easy?”

“Well you did a pretty good job because from what I see, they’re shaking in their boots inside grandma’s hut!” You sarcastically remarked, “Best dad of Pandora, yeah?”

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters under his breath before looking up, as if he was pleading for Eywa to lengthen his patience. He then looked at you, eyes momentarily softening. You were breathing heavily, fangs baring. It was funny, he thought. You weren’t his daughter and yet you stood in front of him now looking exactly like him.

What he didn’t understand was that it wasn't Tsu’tey’s attitude that was passed down to you– rather, it was Jake’s anger you inherited. This was all him. All his fault.

“I thought I had it good, having Toruk Makto as a father. Five year old me was the proudest, if not a bit boastful too.” You muttered, gaze not meeting his. “There’s this huge difference that draws the line between being the olo’eyktan and a father and you’re doing a real shit job at the latter.”

I miss the latter, you failed to say.

You failed to see the way his ears flattened against his head, how his shoulders dropped like he couldn’t hold the weight of the world’s pressure anymore– but you were unable to see him. No, you two didn’t see each other eye to eye. To know that you failed your child was something a parent would never want to hear. His own daughter resented him and it was a heartache beyond repair.

“You think you make parenting any easier for me?”

“Then I wish you never took me in!”

It was such a thoughtless thing to do; to utter words that you know will only harm you more than they would ever heal - but it was there, finally out of your system; a though that lingered for as long as you can remember. Why take me in? Why raise a kid you wouldn't be able to care for?

You only wished that words could be undone but neither of you knew when to bite one's tongue back.

“Yeah?” He challenged, letting out a mocking snicker. “I really wish I didn’t– is that what you want me to say? Then go ahead and leave. Find a new family, see if they won’t find you any less difficult.”

And that was the final blow– the push you needed to leave. You looked at him in disbelief, vision blurry with tears. You shoved the bag right to his chest, forgetting it momentarily amidst the shouting session you just had with your father; the one you desperately wanted to present to him. With nothing else to say, you stormed off, leaving him behind.

Oh Eywa, there is nothing else as undoing as being an eldest daughter.

believe me, i've been trying to post this since 7 am and it's already a quarter 'til 9. tumblr has got to b fucking w me bec i just ran through at least 4 problems trying to get this on my account

anyway, hellaur. i know this is a bit overdue, but i had to make adjustments because i just had to get everyone's inputs and opinions in! i absolutely LOVE everyone's ideas nd you best believe i am trying to make everything word (also bec of the fact that i am a slow writer, so pls bear w me) hopefully i'm doing the story justice! this part went through a lot of modifications bec i kept feeling unsatisfied (i still am, kinda)

also, i couldn't tag a few people! 'm so sorry, some of the names don't pop up when i type it down ;(

tags: @erm2020quinzeanos @al-lethan @violilaqrs @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @sully-stick-together @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @hiddensnow1 @lunyyx @pearlsandcoconuts @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch

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jolienjoyswriting · 1 year

Text

Attune Your Ears (The Rewrite), Ch. II

Chapter 2 of 2 for "Attune Your Ears (The Rewrite)," an Essence of Ragnarok story. Previous version available here.

Eliza's true intentions are revealed.

Word count: 2,736 – Character count: 15,728 Drafted: March 18th, 2023 Revised: March 19th, 2023 –

Yeah, this still ends how you think it does. I'm not apologizing. Also, negative character traits, oh my gooo–

Joseph Lithius, Elizabeth Armstrong, "Essence of Ragnarok" series, and related characters and concepts created by and © Jo Li KMC

[ ↶ Prev. Story | ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter → | Next Story ↷ ]

It had been about a month since Eliza first asked Joseph to join her at home. Since that time, they had been meeting a couple of days on the weekends to… "become acquainted".

At first, it just seemed like a weird "bird" thing. He would sit down and let Eliza sit near or on him. She would chirp or whistle a little as she stroked one of his ears, then once he was relaxed, she would lean up and "preen" the other with her beak. Sometimes, though… things didn't go according to plan. Over time, the fox started to develop a lot of small nicks and things along his ears from where she had "slipped". There were a couple of healed spots where she had drawn blood, too. She hated hurting him like that… Not only did it make her feel incredibly guilty, but she seemed to have a clinical fear of the red stuff! It still worked in her favor, though, as her fox friend would immediately pull her in and comfort her. It wasn't something she planned for, much less intended for him to do… but she greatly appreciated that it was his instinct to do that. He gave pretty good hugs…

Through trial by fire, Eliza began to figure out the secrets of a good "ear preen". She would run the edge of her beak along the edge of his ear at a perpendicular angle, making sure not to move forward or backward… just "sideways". She still managed to cut loose some finer fur, here and there, but overall… it just made Joseph feel good. And that made her feel good. That was her end goal the whole time… learning how to "groom" his ears and make him smile. However… during their latest meeting, Joseph stopped her. When she leaned back and looked at his face… she realized why. He was blushing pretty hard…

"Liz…" he sighed, unable to look at her. "Liz, when… when you rub my ear, it feels so nice… Your feathers are so soft and your fingers are so warm… Plus, you're a lot more gentle than Kris is." The bird smiled, blushing a little. She never knew how to handle compliments. "B-but… when you start running your beak over my ears…" The fox sighed again before glancing up. "Okay… Don't… take this the wrong way, but… it feels nice. Like… really nice. As in… it feels really… really… nice. Do… do you get my meaning?" Eliza stared at him for several seconds, seemingly oblivious. "What I mean is…" Then… slowly, the bird leaned in… "H-hey, wait." And she started using her beak on his ear. "Nnn… nnn…" Which, once again, caused a reaction…

The warm blush grew under the fox's fur as he held onto Eliza's midsection. His breathing slowed and became heavier… One ear was delicately rubbed and tickled by her hand while the other was under constant assault by her sharp, cool beak. She was breathing into his ear, too… seemingly on purpose. He wanted to stop her again. But at the same time… he kind of didn't.

"L-Liz… Ah… haa…"

The fox squirmed and shifted beneath the friendly falcon in his lap. It didn't seem like she wasn't going out of her way to tease him. He wasn't sure she even realized what she was doing… Even when his hands started to roam along her back and slide down her fanned tail feathers… it didn't seem like Eliza had any plans to stop preening his ear. He knew he should have stopped her… He knew what might happen if she kept playing with his ears like that… However… the rational side of his brain had become clouded by all the good feelings. It felt incredible. It was addicting…! He wanted her to keep going… no matter what.

"I… I… L-Liz…! I…!" Joseph panted hard and his body trembled. He pulled the bird closer as she nibbled on his left ear. "Liz… Liz…!" His eyes shakily opened and he tried to focus on a random spot on the wall. His body was on auto-pilot as his brain came back online. However, even if he'd wanted to stop things… it was far too late. "Liii– aaaugh…!!" The fox threw his head back, passionately crying his friend's name. At least, he tried to. As his head went backward… Eliza's sharp beak cut a swath through the chocolate fur and tender flesh on the back of his ear. The sound he made was somewhere between pain and… and pleasure. All at once, the bird realized what happened. She leaned back, covering her beak and staring in wide-eyed… curiosity. She watched him spasm… heard him groan… and witnessed the effects of what she had done to the young fox. She should have felt ashamed, knowing what she'd done. However, behind those feathered hands of hers… was a big, proud smile.

She had accomplished… exactly… what she had set out to do from the first day.

As the fox began to calm down, Eliza relaxed her face. She feigned innocence, gingerly reaching up to stroke the ear she had been nibbling on… only to genuinely wince back. She'd felt something warm, wet, and sticky. Joseph's eyes shot open, his head clearing in an instant. He was quick to notice his friend violently wiping her hand on his shirt. When he looked up, he noticed an expression of near-hysteria on her face. He was pretty sure he'd heard her scream, too, but it didn't seem like she was making any noise, anymore. Her mouth just hung open and she desperately tried to wipe something off her hand. It didn't take him long to figure out what was going on…

Eliza was having a panic attack.

"Liz," he said with a slight pant. "L-Liz, hey. Look at me." The girl continued to hyperventilate, scraping her hand against his freshly-stained white T-shirt. She'd gotten blood on it… which absolutely did not help her situation. "Elizabeth," he called again, keeping his voice calm. She pawed at him a couple more times, clearly not paying attention. "Elizabeth," he repeated more firmly. She shuddered before finally looking at him. "Look here," he told her. "Focus on my eyes." Her gaze started to look elsewhere… "No-no," Joseph said, gently tapping her cheek. "Over here." She shivered… and slowly, she started to look back his way. "Right into my eyes, Liz…" he whispered with a smile. "Just my eyes." The girl shakily nodded before letting her eyes lock onto his. "Now… stay focused on my eyes. I'm going to carry you into the bathroom. Okay?" She nodded a little more… before outright burying her face against his collarbone. "Wuh– o-okay, that works, too… Eh heh…"

With some difficulty, Joseph gently picked the bird up, carrying her bridal-style into the rear of the house. Once they were there, slowly but surely, he managed to wash the blood off her hand. With that done, he made sure she was okay, then he politely asked if she would stay outside for a minute. She briefly tightened her grip on him before calming. She then closed her eyes and carefully left the bathroom, closing the door behind her. It wasn't long after that Joseph came back out, sans shirt and with a large kind of bandage over his entire ear.

"Thanks for being patient," he sighed, offering a comforting smile. "You did good…" She couldn't return the smile. She just looked worried… "Don't worry…" the fox whispered, gently cupping her shoulder. "I'll grab my dirty shirt when I leave." When she shook her head, Joseph tilted his. "What's wrong?" he asked. She gestured upward. "What? Oh, my ear?" The fox laughed. "Liz, I'm fine. Just a little tender. I'll heal!" Though he was smiling… Eliza couldn't stop fretting. "It's fine, Liz," he reassured her with a grin. "You can stop wringing your hands and giving me that look. Besides… the beak injuries make me look cool." For some reason, that finally got the girl to smile. "There's a pretty bird! Heh, I like seeing you smile…" He reached over, gently stroking one of her white, feathery cheeks. "It makes me happy." His smile warmed as she leaned in, cupping his hand with hers and rubbing her cheek against it. That feeling didn't last long, though, as it reminded him of what they were doing before she had her panic attack… "Liz?" When she looked up, he quietly told her… "We… we should talk about earlier…"

The mood was tense as Joseph sat on one side of the futon in the living room. Eliza had joined him on the other side. Neither of them could really look at the other… "Liz?" Until the former spoke up, anyway.

"Liz…" he began, looking right at her. "Liz, did… does… does what we did… c-count as 'cheating'…?" The hazel-eyed bird blinked a couple of times. That clearly wasn't the question she'd expected him to ask! "I… I know you probably… I-I mean, you were just having fun, right? You didn't mean to actually… y-you know…" He blushed hard, looking down and folding his ears before shakily whispering the words, "S-set me off…" Eliza kept calm. She felt guilty about pushing him so far… Proud, but guilty… And yet, that sweet, innocent fox had given her the perfect escape! She was home free! "Liz…?" So… why, then…? "Er… L– Liz…?" Why… didn't she take it?

Joseph blushed harder than ever. Without a noise, that pretty bird had shuffled over and leaned into him. She nuzzled his shoulder with her cool beak and gently stroked a hand over his chest, quietly chirping… It was pretty obvious what she was trying to tell him. "So… it was on purpose…" He looked away, spitting a curse. He was hoping that wasn't the case… "You knew what was going on the whole time… but you just kept on pushing…" When his tone changed, Eliza leaned back and looked at him. The fox looked… conflicted. Again, not something she was expecting.

"Liz…" He sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "Liz," he repeated as if she wasn't listening. "Liz… I… I have a girlfriend… You two are friends. You can't– huh? What?" Eliza was shaking her head. "What?" he asked. "O-oh, right. You two aren't…" When she nodded, he just sighed more, shaking his head. "Look," he started again, "my point is that… you know… there's… like… boundaries and stuff? And… and stuff! There should be, and…" The fox shook his head again before putting his glasses back on. "Void Below… if Kris knew what we just did…" He laughed a little… then he sighed even more. "You know what the worst part about all this is, Liz?" The bird offered a look of curiosity. "The worst part is…" He weakly smiled before admitting to her… "I don't feel bad about it. Not even a little." Again, Eliza was wide-eyed. She… really… did not expect that.

"D-don't get me wrong!" Joseph cried, startling the bird. "I'm pretty sure I just cheated on my girlfriend by letting you do… what you did… B-but at the same time, it's like… I guess it could be m… much worse?" Eliza gestured over to him, prompting the fox to expand on that. "We could've… you know…" He sheepishly grinned as he suggested… "H-had… sex?" And once again… the bird was wide-eyed with surprise. And embarrassment! She became very flustered very quickly, hiding her blushing face behind her hands… only to peek at the fox through her fingers. "I-I know!" he laughed. "Crazy idea, right? You and me… having actual sex?" He laughed… paused… then looked down, biting his lip. "What a… a crazy… s-stupid idea…" And it was at that point… that Eliza became fully invested in the conversation.

"I… I'm a good boyfriend," Joseph continued, talking to the floor. "I love my girlfriend with all my heart! She's warm and… well, she can be warm. And she can be cuddly, too! I guess I… Gods Above… I don't know what I'm saying." The fox sighed more deeply than before. "Look, forget I said anything… I'm just still high from the… the 'nibbling'… I'm perfectly happy with my girlfriend! She's everything I… could…" He trailed off, looking up. Eliza had leaned back in. "I… um…" The girl had her hand on his cheek and she was looking right into his eyes. "L… Liz?" She raised her other hand, two fingers pointing at his eyes. She then turned them around, pointing at her eyes. "Liz…" The fox quietly chuckled. "I'm not having a panic attack… I'm… having a guilt attack. I… don't wanna be disloyal to Kris." Eliza didn't make a sound. She just leaned in and rubbed the front of her beak to his nose, keeping her eyes locked onto his. "How… how do you do that?" he whispered with a blush. She nuzzled his nose with her beak a little more and stroked his cheek. He could see her smiling, too. "How do you say so much without saying anything…?" The bird cocked her head, asking a question without saying a word. "And… why are your caramel eyes so pretty…?"

Eliza blushed a little, herself, as Joseph brought his hands to her cheeks. Slowly, she closed her eyes. A smile came back to the corners of her mouth as he nuzzled her beak, and her blush warmed more as his cool nose touched her face. When she was pulled into a hug, though, she pulled inward and hugged back with all her might. He was such a precious, innocent thing… It was making her feel guilty about what she'd done. But… she loved being so close to him. He was fun to cuddle with.

"I've decided."

An unknown amount of time had passed since the pair embraced. The fog of warm feelings slowly lifted and Eliza leaned back, curiously looking at her friend.

"I've decided…" he repeated. "I've decided that what we did… probably pushes me into the 'cheating man-whore' kind of boyfriend." Eliza recoiled at that, silently gasping and covering her beak. She was about to make another gesture when… "And I'm… I'm okay with that." Joseph reached up, gently pulling her hands away from her beak. "I'm okay with it," he continued with a genuine smile, "because we didn't do anything truly 'cheaty'. All you did was play with my ears a little… It's not your fault my ears are that kind of 'sensitive'." When he winked, Eliza silently giggled and smiled. "I don't regret letting you do that," he continued. "It felt nice… and up until the point a completely unrelated thing happened–" The bird immediately looked at her fox friend's bandaged ear and frowned. "– we were both having a really good time!" She looked back, offering a somewhat awkward smile. "Honestly, if I'd met you sooner…" Joseph looked down, lowering their hands to the futon cushion. "Well… maybe you and I could have become closer than we are now." He looked back up, smiling. "I bet you'd be a kick-ass girlfriend, Liz…" She brought a hand up, covering her beak as she soundlessly laughed and looked away. She was blushing, too. As much as they flustered her, she did appreciate his kind words. "I wonder if Lan or Los…" He hummed. "Eh, nah, that's none of my business." When he noticed his friend blushing a little more, he just grinned and wagged his tail. "Threesome…" he lewdly whispered. That was too much for the poor girl. She pulled her other hand back and hid her face with both of them, harshly shaking her head. She had no idea that "innocent" and "precious" fox could suggest such a thing! In a way, though… it kind of made her appreciate him more.

"Well… I should probably be going…"

Eliza moved her hands… Joseph had stood, but he was still looking her way with a smile. When she smiled back, he smiled even more and wagged his tail again. "Before I go, through…" The bird got to her feet as the fox paused and looked down. What was on his mind? "I was thinking… You made me feel good…" When he slowly looked back up, Eliza noticed… his eyes were half-closed – even more so than usual – and he was wearing a rather… suggestive grin… "Maybe… I could return the favor, sometime…?"

#fiction #Essence of Ragnarok #Year 2043 #Attune Your Ears #rewrite #original characters #jolikmc #Joseph Lithius #Elizabeth Armstrong #slice of life #drama

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loganlermanstanaccount · 5 months

Note

if ur still taking requests could u do dbf!miguel? :3

he would be a brat tamer, change my mind.

DBF!Miguel O'Hara

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

DBF!Miguel O'Hara x fem reader

summary: fucking dbf!mig in a closet at a christmas party <3

warnings: Minors DNI. 18+. Brat taming, PIV, oral (f receiving), semi-public sex. established relationship? idk, this isn't the first time y'all are fucking

a/n: if you squint this is christmas themed. happy holidays everyone!

wc: 1k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dbf!Miguel but he has some semblance of a conscience. He has just enough self awareness, the wherewithal to feel guilty as he fucks you - sighing into the crook of your neck as you whine.

And God, do you whine… simpering, breathy little moans that go straight to his cock. The way you squirm underneath him, legs shaking and shivering so he has to dig into the meat of perfect thigh just a bit more; lapping at that dip below your jaw in a frenzy.

“Quiet.” He hisses, grinding his pelvis against yours, pushing your body flat against the wall.

“F-Fuck, Mig… can't–”

When your head tips back, and it will - he's been fucking you long enough to know your tells, to catch every shiver and creak of bones before you come - he'll lick up those moans too.

You keen, fucking back on his length, and Miguel shifts his hips just so - hiking up your leg even higher. With one swift movement, you've wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hand in his hair. He's pulled out, tip of his cock kissing your hole, and then he slams himself back in - a delicious curve that hits just the right place.

“Look at me.” He says it soft, tilting your chin so your noses graze against one another, lips barely a hair's breadth away. “You're close, baby.”

He says it like a statement, so attuned to you in that little coat closet, batting away fur trim and padding. And it's intimate, tits pressed up against him, spilling out of a push up bra under an itchy jumper you wore specifically for him - but of course, you wouldn't dare say as such.

The way your lips press against him is enough, desperate and breathy. He presses the flat of his thumb - deliciously rough, with just the right amount of pressure - against your clit, and your legs buckle under the pleasure that it brings.

“Look at me.” He says it again, crooning and gentle. “Want you to look at me when you come, hermosa.”

Like a dog in heat, what he says, goes; and you're brought to the edge by just his words. Quiet, like he said you should, and you nip at the juncture of neck peeking out from that thickly knit sweater, biting down a moan. It rips through you, bubbling up at your chest, causing you to clamp down on his length.

“Needy girl…. O-Oh fuck….” Miguel whispers it into your ear, holding you close.

Eyes lidded, you trace cheekbone and deep furrows, addicted to the way his dimples look in the low light. And when you tug, hand in his hair and pulling him closer, deeper, milking his cock; he rewards with you with hot cum and a sloppy kiss.

Hips stuttering, eventually he pulls out; tucking his cock back into loose slacks. You're breathless, slumped back onto cool. wall.

“Give me a second…” You huff.

“Here,” He says, wrapping the limp limbs around his shoulders even tighter. “Don't be a brat.”

It’s said without any real venom, quiet protests kissed into skin. He sinks to his knees, using his thumbs to open up your cunt, marvelling at the way you glisten. It makes you hot under the collar, batting him away. Regardless, Miguel persists, swiping his tongue at your pretty hole and taking a careful taste.

You squirm - half-heartedly, with a hand in his hair - as he presses pretty kisses, eating out his cum with a nose at your clit. You're close, tugging That second orgasm, ever elusive, is snatched away.

“Fuck you.” You spit, watching him wipe a hand across stubble as he gets up.

“Watch the attitude. S'why we're here in the first place.”

“No.” Adjusting your skirt, you step forward. If looks could kill, Miguel could give you a run for your money, you realise with a grimace. “We're here because you're a dirty old man.”

He rolls his eyes, arms crossed in the tiny space.

“Someone needs to teach you some manners.” He grunts.

…by fucking you in a coat closet? You raise an eyebrow.

“Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

He doesn't crack a smile, opting for a hand snaked under your skirt instead. Squeezing your ass, he presses you against him and gulps down subsequent moans. You both separate with a wet pop.

He goes to bed with a hand down his pants, fucking his hand to the pictures you send him late at night. But you already know that.

Miguel sighs, watching as you slip out of the little room, smoothing out the wrinkles in your skirt, adjusting a crinkly paper crown. After a reasonable amount of time, he follows the path you must have taken, across the hall and into the dining room, met with a dozen faces milling about.

There you are in the corner, pressing manicured nails to a screen; ignoring the way half the people in the room ogle you: the boss's kid. His chest puffs up, protective. There's a line drawn in the sand, between him and them. When he looks you up and down, traces the curve of thigh disappearing under a too-short skirt…. it's different, he thinks.

As if you can hear his thoughts, you look up. Catching his eye, he doesn't miss the way your thighs squeeze together, nor how you shift your red sweater to hide a blossoming bruise.

Good. You're learning.

Your dad asked him to take care of you - preening and dithering despite the fact you were grown; definitely not his wide eyed little girl. Spoilt rotten, sure. But Miguel will do anything to keep you safe, even if that means a few... corrective measures.

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #kat_writes😼#miguel o'hara smut #dbf!miguel

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wandagcre · 5 months

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push it for the pleasure | wanda maximoff 🔞

(College!Perv!Bestfriend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)

Wanda’s perverted thirst gets the best of her. You were irresistible and simply for her taking. And what does she do? She doesn’t resist. Instead, Wanda feeds the gnawing, filthy, and hungry monster inside of her by having her way with you even while you’re unconscious.

WARNING: heavy dubcon/noncon themes, fingering, perverted actions such as implied stealing undies, staring, touching and taking nonconsensual nudes, daddy kink (W), corruption kink, somnophilia | 18+ men & minors dni. Words: 3.6k Note: part of the perv!wanda series. you can consider it as a backstory that happened before this oneshot ;)

[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]

Wanda had an affinity for your tedious nature. Whether it comes down to your personal interests or university workload; not solely rooted by your clear determination written in your adorable face that she admires, but rather, how it leaves you exhausted to your very bones. Tired meant the manifestations of neglect — one that left you comfortable on your bed as the aftermath.

You were so lucky to have her, not only Wanda has slid a bottle of water or a snack on your side, but on a good day with a less constricting schedule of hers, she's got the privilege of pressing firm around the strained muscles of your shoulder — feeling you succumb into the comfort and her ears being rewarded of your soft moans.

A purr escaped your mouth. "That feels so good Wands..." Your body slumped in a relaxed state.

Wanda bit her lip at the innocent play of your words. "Anything for you, dorogaya. Do you want me to press harder?"

"Ah... yes, if- if it's alright with you," came a meek response out of your lips.

Wanda knew the effect of her native language on you. She couldn't help but lightly pinch your burning cheeks.

As Wanda kneaded the kinks out of your tired muscles, she couldn't help but thirst for more. The tendency of her insatiable want when it comes to you only grows impossibly bigger every day. Whether it was her dying need to touch you or your attention fixated on her - Wanda needs it all.

"It would be better if you took off your shirt. It’s more direct and effective," She murmured at the shell of your ear. Excitement coursed through Wanda's body as you squirmed in your seat.

You turn your head to the side in question. "Wouldn't that be too much of your time?"

"Nonsense. I love doing this for you."

Wanda wolfishly grinned as she saw you eventually nod in agreement.

Oh, you were so pliant and ready for her.

Your bestfriend had to stop her scandalous thoughts of wanting to bite and mark your back as you undressed your top in front of her. She admires the view of your back and its dimples, her mouth-watering and well-awareness of how soft they were. Wanda didn't waste any time on touching you — the breathy innocent moans and soft tilts of your head as you succumbed to her touch whenever Wanda hit a satisfying spot made her mind go haywire. Her thumb applying pressure over the bottom of your trapezius; just where your nape rests upon particularly was a sweet spot.

You looked lost; wrapped in complete bliss.

"Can I touch you whenever?"

"Like this?"

"Yes," Wanda doesn't miss a beat. It was risky and ambiguous, and so she adds, "I love your skin and how soft it is under my touch. It’s so… comforting.”

She decides to take more than she should've and ran her hand across the expanse of your back to caress — how you shivered was hard to go amiss for the woman.

You know nothing can go wrong especially when it's Wanda. She's the best at attending to your needs, a thought that mildly scared you of how attuned she was, but you knew it was always rooted in benevolence and affection.

Therefore, you couldn't help but recall how come this woman stuck out negatively to other people — having alleged issues of her temperament combined with her altruistic nature. They felt nothing more than a made-up childish rumor in the playground to you as to how Wanda easily conversed with you on that first week when you'd approached her brazenly.

Wanda had figured it out not so long ago; how the double-edged sword trait of yours was how you always believed to see the goodness in the people first. It was a debatable display of strength and flaw.

Besides, you liked having her attention for some reason. Wanda's perfect smile was often so reassuring for you, effortlessly putting you at ease.

"Okay, Wands." was your good-humored reply. Your bestfriend couldn't help but press her lips against the top of your head. You smelled wonderful. Wanda really couldn’t get enough of you.

Your unwavering blind faith-filled Wanda with so much pride.

The cherry on top of it all was how Wanda has taken care of your pretty princess parts; one between your legs and the occasional massages on your breasts.

It was so easy.

Wanda thrived on seeing your beautiful irises filled with innocence and gleam as you met her mischievous emerald ones. You've given her the opportunity of a lifetime and she intends to relish every given chance that she can get. It took her baby steps to get here – once she figured out where your affection levels lay, she initiated simple touches – whether it was a hug, tugging you close to her proximity, or now her intentions that stood morally corrupt; Wanda will find a way to accidentally brush against your private parts.

While you lay on one of her arms, Wanda gently ran her fingers through your soft cheeks as you faced her. She soaked in the sweet smell of your shampoo and the distinguishable scent of yours that Wanda could not get enough of. You looked angelic and waiting to be cherished. Soon enough, Wanda seeks for another type of comfort; her hands descending underneath your shirt, tiptoeing almost, with an unstoppable grin on her face — two fingers pushing under the band of your bra.

"Daddy's here. She'll always be here for you. I'm going to take care of you, dorogaya." Wanda whispered voice lilted with pure desire before her naughty hand came to cup one of your breasts. The recessed night glow that came from your dorm’s window was the only source of light, her actions being done in the darkness amplified the thrill in Wanda’s actions.

A suppressed moan came out of her lips. God, you were so fucking full — supple and fitted perfectly to her palm. One squeeze was followed by a dozen more that inevitably led to pinching and enclosed her fingers from your areola to your now perked tip.

"All for Daddy..."

Her thumb came to play for more, in circular motions around your nipple. Your breathing pattern was nuanced although still haven't shown clear evidence of you waking up anytime soon. Wanda rolled the sleeves of her sweatshirt, knowing she had a whole night ahead of her.

Eventually, it wasn't enough. She needed more.

And so Wanda will make sure to get more.

Careful not to wake you, she pulls out her arm that served as your pillow from earlier. You now lay on your back, still unphased, Wanda raised the hem of your shirt to reveal your indoor bra. Her eyes darkened at how pure and dainty you were presented in front of her, your blemishes and moles make up a beautiful constellation in Wanda's eyes.

Because of this, she's somewhat still in disbelief at your admission that no one has taken you yet.

But fret not, Wanda thought, because she's here and she's certain that you won't need anyone else other than her anytime soon.

"Daddy's going to play with you dorogaya, trust that it will be so much fun."

Wanda carefully rolls and pushes up your bra and now reveals your delectable breasts, cushiony and hanging free. This simply calls for another photoshoot.

She quickly retrieved the Polaroid camera that was atop your nightstand, just beside her rings. She's always brought it for a good reason.

Wanda had three subjects; one was nature and the other was you and no one else. What can she say? you've got her wrapped on your finger as much as she does over you. Her last subject was more risqué and controversial, it was still you — although it was a special one — meant for Wanda's eyes alone.

Wanda had placed her lips on your buttery soft breasts and wet them as she suctioned, her tongue coming into play to swirl them around. Her open-mouthed sucks and kisses filled your skin with red and purple marks. Wanda almost had a heart attack at the hoarse, high-pitched timber, a little trait of yours that you randomly let out before you sleepily stretched your limbs.

You were so cute.

"Dorogaya? Dorogaya..." Wanda hummed in a sing-song, checking if you were still unconscious.

Once sure that you're in deep sleep again, Wanda doesn't waste a moment to point her camera at your goodies — another one of the latest artworks she had done over you.

Soon as Wanda wrapped up and brought your bra and shirt in its unrattled state, here she was — pensive and debating whether she should ruin your pussy next.

Her greed over you took over with ease. Quickly, Wanda gathers her cascading hair in her hand and ties it up. She masterfully tugged down your shorts and as it reached your ankle, threw it away somewhere in your room. You even wore the red socks she gave you years ago! Wanda swooned at the cute sight. She caressed gently the expanse of your smooth legs where childhood scars and a few more moles came into better view.

You weren't wet just yet, of course. Wanda immediately wanted to change that and feel the heat you've been hiding away from her — to feel you around her fingers.

"You're so ready for Daddy, dorogaya. You don't know how much I want to eat you right now... to get a taste directly from its source, my tongue against your pretty and puffy pussy," Wanda knew you couldn't hear her, but it doesn't stop the wanton monologues of her feverish desires over you. "You're just for Daddy, aren't you?" She ran her fingers sultrily across your lower tummy, down to your pelvis.

It simply made her journey worthwhile. She somewhat wanted to communicate how fuckable your virgin self was for her. It was no longer the case as crossed this bridge a few months ago, but her filthy soul relished in corrupting you — with Wanda in complete control and taking you.

Luckily for Wanda, you've raised one of your legs — caught in a folded position, enough for her to pry you open.

Setting your ribbon-designed undies aside, Wanda’s mouth watered at your inner walls coming into view that she could not help herself and immediately inserted two fingers inside of your velvety walls.

"Fuck, you're so warm for Daddy!" Wanda rasps out, her body burning. As though in a cue in response, you huskily moaned in your sleep as well. "You love this, don't you? This won't take long, don't worry, dorogaya..."

Your bed rocked and creaked slowly, as Wanda fucked you asleep. The wetness came pouring and coated her until she was knuckle-deep in you. She stretched your now sopping hole, and the breathy moans tumbled out of your pretty lips now and then.

How you did not wake up yet was a miraculous thing for her.

Before Wanda gets carried away in roughly fingering you enough to rouse you out of your consciousness, she pumps and curls her fingers inside of you once more before reaching for her camera. She spreads your inner thighs apart — the viscous wetness that she loved to see was there. The repeated clicks reverberated and the white flashes of her camera came in the knowing four walls of your dorm.

She even inspects your wetness, rubbing and playing with them with her pinched forefinger and thumb.

A wicked smile breaks out of her in glee and satisfaction as Wanda admires for a moment the mess she has made; successful once again as she looks at the polaroid photos she recently took of you.

She pressed a soft kiss on your temple. "You did so well for Daddy."

Almost half an hour later, you wake up confused. You were wet — your cheeks burned. This was becoming a frequent occurrence and you were too old to pee in the bed. You're more than sure that your bladder was well-adjusted. But was there anything else that was wrong with you down there? You tightly crossed your legs.

Wanda appeared from your bathroom. Right, she stayed the night. She was beautiful even if the constant turning in bed had ruffled her appearance. Although, there were much more pressing matters — this is nothing but humiliating for you, surely this spot did not go amiss for your best friend...

"What’s the matter?" Wanda approaches your side.

You were hesitant, quick to try pushing her away. "Don't come close! I'm wet... I don't know how it happened. Goodness, I know for a fact I didn’t pee myself. Or did I?"

"You did not, dorogaya. Dummy, it was my fault." Wanda gave out a hearty chuckle at your immovable confusion.

"How was it your fault?"

"I spilled my drink on the bed," Wanda played with your hair and you immediately folded. You were so easy to please. "I was just about to wake you so you can change your shorts and underwear."

You let out another relieved sigh. You were happy to know that it wasn’t your bladder acting up.

"Oh, that kinda explains it. But I think it wasn't your drink that caused this the other nights…”

“Other nights?” Wanda echoed in feigned confusion.

“I-I often find myself wet down there," You confided to Wanda who nodded attentively.

Like a lightbulb moment, Wanda seemed to understand. "It's normal. Our vagina does it by nature, as a way of cleaning itself. It's called a discharge, dorogaya."

As you digest Wanda’s words, confidently assuring you, you take one of her hands and lace it with yours — giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I don't know what I would do without you, Wands. All this time I thought something was wrong with me." You nervously chuckled, beyond glad that the case was sorted out.

"That's why I'll always be here for you." Wanda shoots you a pearly smile. She tilted her head, "Now, why don't you change your clothes?" She brought her other hand that carried your clean panties and shorts.

Though you were grateful, embarrassment filled you again as you took it from Wanda with your head down and moved away from to bed to start changing.

Wanda sat quietly at your bed and peered curiously over your timid movements. Unbeknownst to you, she was waiting for whether you'd instruct her to look away as you strip down your ruined shorts and undies. She orchestrated the whole thing after her secret session with you, after all.

"C-Can you look away for a bit, Wands?" You requested, but your timid voice cracked in the process.

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "We have the same parts, dorogaya. Besides, I also change in front of you – why does it matter?" She counters and you can't rebut anything else because it is the truth. "I won't judge you. I'm just... impatient to cuddle with you again."

There isn't harm in it, you suppose. Wanda has always been there for you and has proven herself worthy of your trust. So, you affectionately smile at Wanda's needy self.

Your whole back view almost faced your bestfriend, much to her delight — only that her jaw slacked as she got a brief glimpse of your bare ass. Wanda was certain that it was buttery soft just as your hypnotizing breasts were.

You saw the clear, gooey, and viscous substance that left a mark in the center of your underwear. Your face curled up in a slight grimace. Even if you knew better about it now — all thanks to Wanda — it was somehow still icky for you to look at.

Wanda hands the clean replacements and before you can tug up your new shorts, she pulls you in her direction unexpectedly and brash to your liking.

"Wands– what?" Wanda didn't speak, touched you gently as though you were going to break. Her hand remained on your hips.

"Hush now, dorogaya. I need to check something." Her tone sounded serious so you let her. Although it felt too intimate, blood immediately came rushing to your ears and cheeks. "I think you need to replace some of them..."

You try to protest out of timidness, "But—"

"Let me inspect you first. Promise I'll be gentle. It won't be weird," Wanda gave you a condescending smile and you easily caved in.

You feel Wanda everywhere in your body. Her touch was electric on your lower back, the other was too close to your private parts — all wandering. Wanda's fingers came to trace underneath the garter of your underwear. From your pelvis to your innermost thighs, you almost closed your legs shut in reflex.

The air felt ambiguously thick.

Her hands continue to roam around the material — excruciatingly, it was underneath your buttcheek and the pubis area especially, where Wanda’s hands gravitate and wander back onto — doing motions as though smoothening it out.

You let out a sharp inhale and your stomach twitches each time in sync.

"This shouldn't be too hard and tight for you. Not only does it leave marks, but it's uncomfortable, isn't it? The material also is too thin. It's bound to tear off soon." Wanda lists out and all you can think is holy shit, she's right. You weren't confident with your picks when you shopped for them, in all honesty.

"Yeah. I wasn't sure what to pick..." You admit with your eyes looking at your sock-covered feet and your hands clasped in shame.

Besides, you somehow keep on misplacing them. You were baffled by now because you were getting understocked with the amount of undies you had. Where have they all gone?

"Tell you what," Wanda calmly calls your attention and tilts your head up with her hand, "I'd take you to shop some and help you throughout the process so I can teach you too. Don't worry, it's all my treat dorogaya."

Your eyes beamed. You need as much help as you can. "You'll do that for me? But... isn't it too much? I can’t ask that of you.”

"I don't mind, it's not like we do it often. I’m personally offering." Wanda shrugged. She had a point. You'll stop her the next time she insists... maybe in return, you'll do something nice for her.

Sneakily, one of her hands that rested on your lower back descended to your ass cheeks and came in contact to slap them. You sharply gasped and flinched upon the sudden contact, giving Wanda an unamused look. You hoped that she wouldn't detect the fluster in your appearance underneath it.

You didn't understand how it was somewhat satisfying for you. It was a mere play, an act that was nothing more but to tease you — but it felt good against your ass.

You whisper-yelled, calling out her outrageous act.

"Wanda!"

She sports a mischievous smile, her perfect teeth biting down her lower lip. Wanda shook her head and finally raised her hands in defeat.

"Come on! I thrive on riling you up. It's essentially my duty. Now come back and get comfy here in bed. You deserve more sleep. I'll take care of these," She points to the clothes you stripped out of. "And no complaints. I don't mind, I've seen all of you now dorogaya."

"You will be the death of me."

"I love you too," She teasingly replied before disappearing into your view and the words of your best friend made your heart jump.

You groaned in the soft pillow in surrender although it was too much for you — you knew that Wanda's intentions were coming from a good place. She's nothing but thoughtful to you. Soon, the harmony of cold and warmth of your sheets and duvet became too comfortable. You have proven Wanda right and easily succumbed to sleep once again.

Meanwhile, Wanda gathers the polaroid photos she took just a few minutes ago. She closes the door and threw your shorts to the hamper. But your pretty and soaked underwear? It's coming with her.

With the still-damp material of your undies, Wanda strips out her bottoms and sat to the closed toilet seat. She places the fabric over her now exposed pussy; not wasting any time rubbing it against her wet cunt, starting slow, and even thrusting it inside to stimulate and tease her filthy fantasies of you even more.

God, here she was, touching herself at the thought of you and the photos she had taken of your pretty princess parts.

Wanda took a good look at it; albeit with much effort as her eyes were threatening to shut at the sensation. It was easy to recall her indecent touches — the feeling of your folds ridiculously soft and unearthly, stretching your labia so she can insert her fingers inside of your opening and how it sucked her in slowly — fuck, you were so tight!

These thoughts spurred Wanda to rub herself with harder pressure and dared to tug and play with her clit — all while covered with your soaked undies. It was somewhat rough against the vulnerable lines and ridges of her labia and provided the undeniably irresistible friction that she craved, doing it repeatedly until Wanda stretched herself out.

It was your cum coating her own pulsating and clenching pussy. She can't help but moan at the thought as she touches herself inside these four, cold walls. How Wanda can only wish instead of her fingers, it was your dainty ones. Even better, you're on your knees for her... eyes wide, expectant, and obedient to her orders. You always looked at her in a certain way that made her stomach flip in adoration and glee. In her filthiest imaginations, Wanda is calling the shots, ordering you to go flatten up your tongue like a good girl and to lap her faster—!

Wanda finally cums hard, a guttural low moan tumbling out of her lips.

Fuck, she got so wet that it seeped out, the woman was sitting in her mess. Gripping and glancing at the jerking-off materials, she couldn't be more proud of herself today.

Another for her beloved and favorite collection — all thanks to you.

#gg.writes #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x fem reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagines #wlw #lesbian #perv!wanda #requested

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doumadono · 6 months

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Genshin men in heat - headcanons

Warnings: fem!reader, smut A/N: this little thing was written for my one and only @crystalwolfblog

GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

Zhongli

During his heat, Zhongli becomes especially attentive to you, showering you with affectionate gestures and heartfelt compliments.

Zhongli has a particular fondness for handholding, finding comfort and solace in the simple yet profound act of physical connection.

During moments of intimacy, Zhongli shows a fondness for traditional Liyuean music, creating a soothing atmosphere that enhances the connection between him and you.

Zhongli takes delight in exploring sensory experiences, introducing scented oils and candles during intimate moments to heighten the atmosphere; he loves giving you a back massage when he's slowly fucking your pussy doggy style with your body pressed into the mattress.

He reigns supreme when it comes to overstimulation. Simple as that.

He's about to eat your pussy out to the point where your clit is swollen and too sensitive, leaving you desperately attempting to guide his head away, but his firm grip ensures your hands remain under his control. "No chance, babygirl. Let me savor every bit of this delicious feast."

He'll ever so delicately give your ass a playful smack while fucking you from behind, skillfully massaging the soft fat of your buttocks after.

"In the vastness of Liyue, you are my most precious treasure."

Neuvilette

Neuvilette's heat brings out his gentle side. He becomes more verbally expressive, whispering sweet nothings and words of comfort.

His playfulness peaks, and he engages in lighthearted activities to lift the mood and make you smile.

He expresses his love through touch, with a preference for soft caresses and gentle kisses, creating a tender, nurturing atmosphere.

Neuvilette enjoys intertwining fingers during moments of intimacy, when his cock is buried deep in your pussy.

He takes pleasure in exploring your sex, using either his skilled tongue or fingers. Whatever brings you joy is exactly what he's focused on doing.

The Iudex revels in the sensation of you mounting him in his alcove. In this intimate space, he willingly relinquishes control, viewing it as a welcome escape from his daily duties. With a firm grip on your hips, he skillfully guides their movement, his gaze irresistibly drawn to the smooth rhythm of your breasts gently bouncing as you ride his cock, moaning his name.

"In your arms, I've found a sanctuary where I can be myself without fear or judgment."

Wriothesley

Despite his usual reserved demeanor, Wriothesley becomes more openly affectionate during his heat, craving physical closeness.

He expresses his emotions through carefully chosen words and actions, making sure you know you're cherished.

Wriothesley enjoys quiet evenings, reading poetry or sharing stories, creating a deeper emotional connection with his loved one.

In his alcove, Wriothesley turns into a fierce lover - he's determined to ensure your pleasure doesn't stop at just one or two climaxes, but unfolds in a series of multiple peaks.

He excels in the art of overstimulation, akin to Zhongli's expertise. He's committed to going above and beyond your limits to elicit involuntary tremors in your legs when he's fucking your cunny.

"Your lips hold the poetry that words fail to express. Let our kisses write the verses of our love," amidst the forceful thrusts, he's about to murmur gently in your ear before kissing your lips passionately.

Wriothesley won't shy away from taking immense pleasure in finishing inside you, relishing the sight of your mixed essences as they gracefully ooze from your pussy and drip down on the sheets.

Itto

Itto's energetic personality during his heat translates into playful and adventurous dates, from spontaneous outings to exciting challenges.

He showers you with compliments.

Itto's protective instincts heighten, making him more attuned to your needs and ensuring your well-being above all else.

Itto's love language involves physical touch, and he finds joy in affectionate gestures, like playful nudges and warm embraces, to express his deep connection.

Itto has a knack for combining laughter and passion, creating an atmosphere where the boundaries between playfulness and intimacy blur; like when in the missionary position, he leans in to kiss you, and strands of his hair gracefully cascade into your mouth. You shake your head, attempting to free the strands, all the while sharing a laughter-filled exchange, finding joy in the unexpected yet amusing situation.

He has a preference for fast sex, and he'll fervently fuck himself in your pussy without reservation, rolling his head back at times.

He dearly enjoys when you give him head, and he's going to beg for it with fervor, like a desperate bitch. "Please, baby, I need your beautiful mouth around my dick."

"Oh shit, babygirl, you feel so good, fuck! It feels so good to be inside your tight pussy."

Itto is committed to exploring every conceivable position with you; he thrives on discovering new experiences and broadening his horizons.

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bippiti · 11 months

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hobie w a spider! reader who has sensitive hearing

- hobie is incredibly attuned to your needs as a bc of your hearing. he knows bc notices the impact certain sounds can have on you and takes extra care to create a quiet and comfortable environment whenever he can

noise cancelling trinkets bc he’s known to be somewhat of an engineer and tinkers often. he creates specialized noise-canceling devices to help lower the effects of loud sounds on your sensitive hearing. they gadgets can be worn in your ears, and they allow you to have better focus during missions

whispers hobie knows that you perfer soft speaking or whispers when possible, so he tends to speak to you in hushed tones. he knows that even the quietest of sounds can be way louder for you, so he adjusts his voice accordingly, making sure youre comfortable

apartment mods hobie makes modifications to your shared apartment, creating a safe haven of sorts where loud sounds are minimized. he installs soundproofing materials, places white noise machines, and even incorporates acoustic-friendly furniture, all designed to provide you with a quiet peaceful environment

music therapy hobie discovers that certain frequencies or types of music can actually help soothe and relax your sensitive hearing. he makes a bunch of playlists specifically designed to provide a calming and enjoyable experience for you, using music as a form of therapy and stress relief

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown smut #hobie brown hcs #hobie brown head anons #hobie brown ff #spider-man across the spiderverse fanfiction #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x gn reader

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hoshifighting · 2 days

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Seventeen's reaction when reader stops breathing during orgasm

Seungcheol

as he feels you go completely still beneath him, he’d stop everything he’s doing, his eyes wide with panic. "hey, are you okay?" he’d ask urgently, shaking you gently until you start breathing again.

he slowed his movements just enough to give you a moment to catch your breath, his eyes never leaving your face. his hand comes up to gently stroke your cheek.

as your face contorts in pleasure and you tighten around him, he realizes what's happening. he was worried but also intensely turned on by the raw, uncontrolled reaction you were having.

a grin spreads across his face as he watches your blissed-out expression, the realization dawning on him that he's fucking you too good. "mhmm look at you," he chuckles, his tone teasing but relieved. "couldn't handle all of this, huh?" he continues to thrust into you, enjoying the way your body responds to him.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan would be startled, his playful demeanor instantly replaced with concern as he feels you stop breathing. he’d pause immediately, his eyes searching your face for any signs of distress. "baby, breathe for me," he’d urge softly, his fingers brushing your hair back from your forehead.

the moment you start breathing again, he’d let out a relieved sigh. he slows down just enough to prolong your pleasure, whispering dirty praises in your ear about how beautifully you cum for him.

Joshua

would be immediately alarmed, panicking as he realizes you’re not breathing. "oh my god, are you okay?" he’d ask frantically, shaking you gently until you start breathing again.

when you reach your climax and exhale deeply, he smiles softly. "that's it, beautiful," he murmurs, his hands soothingly rubbing your sides. "you did so well, just keep breathing."

''please don’t do that again."

Jun

Jun's brow furrows in concern when he notices you tensing and not breathing. "are you okay? don't forget to breathe," he says softly, his hands caressing your sides. "I'm here, just relax and let it go."

when you cum and release your breath, he lets out a relieved laugh. "there you are," he whispers, pressing kisses along your neck. "you did amazing, baby. just relax now."

Hoshi

"hey, Y/N, are you okay? please breathe," he’d say frantically. Hoshi’s heart skipped a beat when he saw you stop breathing momentarily during your orgasm. his movements became more controlled, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

as you finally came, your body trembling in response, Hoshi let out a soft, encouraging moan. “fuck, you’re amazing,” he kept his movements gentle but firm, prolonging your pleasure and ensuring you felt every wave of your orgasm. “that’s it, mhmm” he encouraged, his voice soothing and filled with admiration.

Wonwoo

Wonwoo notices your body’s reactions with a keen eye, fascinated by the way you stop breathing and tense up as you get closer to orgasm. he slows his pace just enough to tease you, "just relax, I'm here with you." "gonna' cum for me just like the good girl your are? hm"

he smiles in relief, when you cum around his cock "there you go, love..." he whispers, his hands gently rubbing your back.

Woozi

''hey, don't hold your breath like that," he almost scolds, voice laced with concern. he cups your face, making sure you focus on him. "It's okay, just breathe with me."

As you cum, he breathes a sigh of relief along with you. "that's it, you're okay," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Minghao

from the moment you start to fuck, Minghao is attuned to every detail of your reactions. his gentle but firm touch is designed to keep you grounded. as you get closer to your climax, you forget his earlier instructions and starts tensing up. your breath catches, and you can feel your body tightening.

"breathe," he commands, his voice dominating. when you cry out, overwhelmed by the intensity, he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "shh, shh, breathe," he repeats, his tone brooking no argument. "you did so well."

Mingyu

his eyes widened when he realized you had stopped breathing in the throes of your orgasm. his large hands stroking your sides soothingly. “hey, hey, breathe for me,” he coaxed, his voice gentle yet firm.

when you finally reached your climax, and he felt the gush of liquid from your squirting, Mingyu couldn’t contain his excitement. “holy shit,” he muttered, a wide grin spreading across his face. he watched in awe as you rode out your orgasm, his hands steadying you.

Seokmin

Seokmin’s eyes widen with concern as he notices you slipping into a trance-like state, your breath catching and body tensing up. "Y/N-nie?" he slows his pace momentarily, trying to gauge your reaction. ''breathe, baby, come on,"

realizing you need a sharp jolt to snap out of it, Seokmin thrusts sharply into you, forcing your body to react. the sudden movement makes you gasp, drawing in a much-needed breath. as you exhale, the tension in your body releases, and you cream around his cock, the orgasm hitting you. "good girl..." he continues to move, more gently now. "I’ve got you."

Seungkwan

"baby, you gotta breathe for me," he decides to stimulate you more, hoping to get a reaction. one hand moves to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles while his mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking and licking it. "come on, beautiful, I need to hear you," he murmurs against your skin.

feeling your body react to the extra stimulation, Seungkwan continues, his touch becoming more insistent. "breathe, baby, breathe" he repeats, his fingers working your clit faster. your body jerks, a gasp escaping your lips as you finally take in a breath. he grins, knowing he's got you back.

Vernon

Vernon immediately senses something is wrong so he stops thrusting into you, "are you okay?"

you whine, frustrated by the sudden pause, and manage to gasp "keep going." you start to breathe again, your chest rising and falling more steadily. Vernon grins, relieved but still cautious. "alright, but you gotta keep breathing, okay?"

he moves slowly at first, making sure you’re breathing steadily. once he's satisfied you're alright, he picks up the pace. "you gonna cum for me, baby? just like that, keep breathing,"

the pleasure builds quickly, and with Vernon’s attentive eyes on you, you feel safe to let go. your body tenses again, but this time, you remember to breathe. "fuck, that's it, baby." Vernon groans, feeling you clench around him.

Dino

his sharp instincts kick in, and he knows he needs to keep you breathing. without slowing his thrusts, he bites down gently on your neck and tugs at your hair, the sudden sensations pulling you back from the edge just enough. "breathe, baby, yes, breathe" he growls into your ear, his voice low and commanding.

the mix of pain and pleasure forces a gasp out of you, and you start to breathe again, albeit shakily. Chan doesn't let up, his thrusts relentless as he works to bring you to your peak. "that's it, keep breathing," he encourages, his tone firm. "I want you to scream my name when you cum." he pulls his face away from your neck, his eyes locking onto yours.

as you come down from your high, Chan slows his movements, his hands still holding you close. he scolds you gently, "you need to remember to breathe, okay? I want to feel you cum properly without scaring me like that."

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xtra7s · 4 months

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LOVE your g!p!renee/regina smut

i can’t stop thinking abt a g!p!renee dom x sub reader where the reader gets high and used by renee w lots of praise & oral fixation ,, i think you would kill it 🫢

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 ─── 𝘙𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Renee gets Y/N high and they have a little fun.

Content: Renee Rapp x gn!reader, Dom!Renee, Sub!reader, Cunnilingus, Oral Fixation, Breeding, Substances, R is high as fuck, Praise

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: Loved this request, hope i did it justice baby

masterlist

The pulsating beat of the music reverberated through the crowded room as Reneé Rapp and Y/N navigated their way through the lively party. The air was filled with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses, creating an atmosphere of excitement and anticipation.

Reneé, with her infectious energy and captivating presence, led Y/N to a more secluded corner of the room where the bass was a bit less overwhelming. They exchanged playful glances, their connection palpable even in the dim lighting of the party.

"So, what do you think of this place?" Reneé asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/N grinned, feeling the warmth of the evening and the buzz of the party. "It's wild. Definitely not what I expected, but I like it."

Reneé smirked, reaching into her clutch and pulling out a small bag. "Speaking of wild, ever tried one of these?" She dangled a brownie edible in front of Y/N.

Y/N's eyes widened with curiosity. "What is it?"

Reneé chuckled, "Just a little something to spice up the night. Trust me, you'll love it."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then decided to go with the flow. "Alright, let's do it."

Reneé handed her the edible, their fingers brushing against each other. The air was charged with a mix of nerves and excitement as Y/N took bites of the brownie, finishing it off. They continued to enjoy the party, dancing and chatting, the subtle allure of the edible slowly taking effect.

As the night progressed, Y/N felt a pleasant warmth spreading through her body. The room seemed to warp and twist in a delightful haze. Reneé, always the life of the party, leaned in closer, her lips dangerously close to Y/N's ear.

"You feeling alright there?" she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Y/N grinned the edges of her reality softening. "Yeah, I'm feeling… really good."

Reneé chuckled, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on Y/N's arm. "Glad to hear it, babe."

The effects of the edible continued to weave a dreamy haze around Y/N as they found themselves on a cozy couch surrounded by a few other people. The room was filled with laughter and the mellow beats of music, creating a laid-back atmosphere. Reneé, always attuned to the vibe of the moment, produced a rolled blunt from her pocket with a sly grin.

"Care for a little more adventure?" she asked, holding the blunt delicately between her fingers.

Y/N chuckled, feeling the warmth of the edible enhancing the easygoing mood. "Why not? It's that kind of night."

Reneé's smile widened as she sparked the blunt, the flame casting a warm glow on her features. She took a leisurely puff before passing it to Y/N. The fragrant smoke curled into the air as Y/N brought the blunt to their lips, inhaling deeply.

The room seemed to shift and sway with each exhale, the atmosphere becoming even more intoxicating. The group on the couch shared stories, laughter, and the occasional passing of the blunt, creating a sense of camaraderie. Y/N found themselves drawn into the conversation, feeling a deeper connection with Reneé and the others in the circle.

"wanna get out of here?" Renee murmured, her thighs pressed tightly against Y/N's as they sat on the couch, her leaning in to whisper in Y/N's ear.

Y/N nodded, and they navigated through the party, finding a more secluded room. The atmosphere was intimate, and the laughter from the party dulled to a distant hum. Reneé and Y/N shared a comfortable silence, the unspoken tension between them growing more palpable.

Reneé leaned in, her lips brushing against Y/N's earlobe. "You know," she whispered, "I like you. A lot."

Y/N's heart raced, the words sending shivers down her spine. "I like you too, Reneé."

With that admission, the gap between them closed, and their lips met in a heated kiss.

The room spun gently as Y/N found themselves lying on a bed, the effects of the edible and the blunt intensifying the sensation of weightlessness. Reneé, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and desire, hovered above Y/N. The dim glow of the room added to the dreamlike quality of the moment.

Reneé's lips met Y/N's in a slow, languid kiss, the taste of the lingering smoke and the sweetness of the edible blending into an intoxicating combination. Y/N's senses were heightened, and every touch, every movement, sent shivers through their body.

Unable to move much, Y/N surrendered to the experience, sinking deeper into the softness of the bed. Reneé's fingers traced patterns on Y/N's skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. The world outside the room faded away, leaving only the two of them entangled in a haze of desire and euphoria.

Reneé pulled back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You doing okay there?"

Y/N managed a lazy smile, their limbs feeling heavy but content. "I feel.. heavy."

Reneé chuckled, her fingers gently playing with Y/N's hair. "Just relax, enjoy the moment."

Y/N's mind swirled with a mix of emotions, the high amplifying the intensity of each touch and caress.

Reneé leaned in once more, her lips brushing against Y/N's ear. "You know, you're even more beautiful when you're like this."

Y/N's cheeks flushed with a combination of warmth and the realization of the genuine connection between them. The world outside the room ceased to exist as Y/N and Reneé lost themselves in the shared bliss of the moment.

The room pulsed with a rhythmic beat that seemed to synchronize with the pounding of Y/N's heart. As Y/N lay on the bed, a euphoric haze enveloping them, Reneé couldn't resist the magnetic pull drawing her towards Y/N's lips. The air was charged with an intoxicating mixture of desire and the lingering effects of the substances they had indulged in.

Reneé's lips grazed Y/N's neck, leaving a trail of delicate kisses that sent shivers down their spine. Y/N's senses were heightened, each touch a symphony of pleasure that echoed through their body. The room seemed to blur at the edges as Reneé's lips found Y/N's, the kiss deepening into a passionate exchange.

Unable to resist the allure of Y/N's skin, Reneé planted soft kisses along their jawline, gradually making her way to the sensitive spot on their neck. Each kiss left a mark, a visible testament to the intensity of the moment. Reneé couldn't help but revel in the intoxicating mixture of the high and the electric connection between them.

Y/N let out a soft sigh, their fingers lightly tracing patterns on Reneé's back. The room spun with a heady combination of desire and bliss. Reneé continued her exploration, leaving a trail of hickeys that marked the passage of their shared ecstasy.

Reneé pulled back, her eyes locking with Y/N's, a fire burning within. "You're driving me crazy," she confessed, her voice husky.

Y/N's lips curved into a hazy smile, their words slurred with the effects of the substances. "Good kind of crazy, I hope."

Reneé chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes. "The best kind." She leaned in once more, their lips meeting in a searing kiss that left no room for anything but the intoxicating connection between them.

Renee's eyes were full of desire as she hovered over Y/N on the bed. Her hand traced down their body, stopping at the waistband of their pants. "You're so beautiful," she murmured, her voice thick with lust. "I've been thinking about this moment for days."

Y/N swallowed hard, heart pounding in anticipation. They trusted Renee implicitly, but this was a new experience for them nonetheless. As they gazed at the ceiling, patterns formed and dissolved in the textured surface, creating a captivating kaleidoscope. The music from the party outside seemed to echo through the walls, each beat resonating with the rhythm of Y/N's heartbeat.

Reneé's voice, soft and melodic, reached Y/N's ears, drawing them into a world of warmth and comfort. Every giggle and whispered word carried a playful echo, and the air seemed to shimmer with a pleasant energy. The mere thought of having Renee's mouth on them sent shivers down their spine.

Renee's fingers deftly unfastened Y/N's pants, sliding them down along with their underwear until they lay exposed before her. She pulled off the rest of Y/N's clothes, and Renee's eyes widened at the sight, her gaze lingering on every inch of flesh revealed. "You're so wet," she whispered, leaning in to lick a slow trail up Y/N's inner thigh.

Y/N gasped, arching into the touch. Her back arched off the mattress, offering herself fully to Renee's expert mouth. Their fingers threaded through Renee's hair, guiding her closer to their core. "Please," they slurred, moving their hands as much as they could to hold Renee's waist.

Renee pushed Y/N's hand off of her, "No touching, love." She spoke with a murmur, leaving hickeys on the inside of Y/N's thighs.

Y/N pleaded, their voice shaky with need. "Please, Renee."

Renee grinned wickedly, licking her lips in anticipation. She positioned herself deeper between Y/N's legs, taking a deep breath before diving in. Her tongue flicked against their clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through Y/N's body. Their hips bucked involuntarily, pushing against her mouth.

Renee didn't hesitate, sucking Y/N's sensitive nub into her mouth and sucking gently. Her tongue darted out, teasing every crevice and fold, sending them into a frenzy of pleasure. "Oh god," Y/N moaned, grabbing onto the sheets for support.

When Y/N closed their eyes, a tapestry of vibrant colors unfolded behind their eyelids, a visual symphony that danced to the rhythm of their thoughts. The boundary between imagination and reality blurred, and Y/N found themselves lost in a dreamscape of swirling emotions and sensations.

Their body trembled under Renee's expert touch, each stroke bringing them closer to the edge. Sweat dripped down their forehead, mingling with the saliva from Renee's lips. Their breaths came in short gasps, each one punctuated by cries of delight.

Renee knew she had to be careful; she wanted this to last as long as possible. But the sight of Y/N's pleasure-drenched face was almost too much to bear. She increased the intensity of her licks, wrapping her hand around their cock and stroking it in tandem with her mouth. The dual stimulation had Y/N writhing beneath her, their moans growing louder with each passing second.

Renee could feel Y/N's orgasm building, just within reach. She wanted to be the one to push them over the edge, to make them scream her name in ecstasy. Her tongue darted out one last time, flicking their clit with lightning-like speed.

Y/N cried out, arching off the bed as her orgasm hit like a freight train. Her pussy clenched around Renee's mouth, milking every last drop of pleasure from her. Renee lapped up every drop, savoring the taste of Y/N's release before reluctantly pulling away.

Renee's eyes locked with Y/N's, her heart pounding with anticipation. She had never been with anyone high before, but this situation excited her. She positioned herself between Y/N's legs, her cock poised at the entrance of their pussy.

"Are you ready?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Y/N nodded, their eyes heavy-lidded from the high. "I'm ready," they slurred, their body trembling with anticipation.

With one powerful thrust, Renee entered Y/N, burying herself to the base. Their eyes widened in surprise, but it was quickly replaced by a look of pure pleasure. "Oh god," Y/N gasped, their voice hoarse with need. Renee started to move, setting a steady rhythm that matched their breathing. Their hips ground together, creating friction that sent sparks flying between them as sweat dripped down their bodies.

Y/N's moans echoed through the room, a mix of pleasure and disbelief at how good it felt. "You feel amazing," Renee panted, her voice thick with desire. "I could fuck you all night."

Y/N blinked, her eyes hazy with lust. "Please, don't stop" she managed to say between breaths.

Y/N moaned, a blissful smile playing on their lips. The room, filled with the scent of lingering smoke and the soft glow of dim lights, became a sanctuary of euphoria.

Renee increased the pace, thrusting harder and faster into Y/N's welcoming core. Their moans filled the room, mixed with the slapping sounds of flesh against flesh. Their breaths came out in ragged gasps, each one punctuated by cries of delight.

She reached down, cupping Y/N's jaw and neck in her hands. "Look at me," she commanded softly. "Look into my eyes while I fuck you."

Y/N complied, their gaze hazily locked with Renee's. The intensity of the connection only heightened their pleasure, making every thrust feel more intense. "fuck you feel so good baby" Renee murmured, lost in the moment.

She didn't break stride, continuing to thrust into Y/N as she spoke again. "You're taking my dick so good" she hummed out.

Y/N moaned loudly, her orgasm exploding like a firework within her as she came again. Her pussy clenched around Renee's cock, milking every inch of her as she came. Renee rode out the waves with her, their lips locked in a fierce kiss that tasted of sweat and desire.

As Y/N's orgasm subsided, Renee followed suit, her own release drawing near. She thrust harder and faster, their bodies slapping together in a rhythm that would never end. "I'm going to cum," she panted, her voice strained with need.

Y/N gripped Renee's hips, urging her onward. "Come for me," she begged, her voice hoarse with desire. "I want to feel it."

Renee shuddered, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. Renee shuddered, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she spilled her essence inside Y/N. Their cries mingled together, filling the room with the raw intensity of their passion.

When it was all over, they collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily and clutching each other tight. Their bodies glistened with sweat and cum, a testament to the intensity of their union. Renee leaned in, pressing soft kisses against Y/N's forehead.

The room slowly settled into a serene calm as Y/N and Reneé lay on the bed, their breaths intermingling with the remnants of the euphoria that had enveloped them. The once vibrant colors and swirling patterns now softened, giving way to a tranquil atmosphere.

Y/N's limbs felt like they were made of cotton, a gentle heaviness replacing the weightless sensation that had characterized the peak of their high. As they came down from the intoxicating cloud, the world around them seemed to regain a semblance of clarity.

Reneé, lying beside Y/N, traced lazy patterns on their skin, her fingers creating a soothing rhythm that echoed the soft rise and fall of their breaths. The room was filled with a languid energy, and the air was charged with a quiet intimacy.

Reneé's lips found their way to Y/N's neck, leaving a trail of tender kisses that contrasted with the earlier fervor. Each touch was a gentle reminder of the shared journey they had embarked on throughout the night. Y/N sighed, the sensation of Reneé's lips against their skin sending shivers down their spine.

"I like this," Reneé whispered, her voice a soft murmur against Y/N's neck. "Just lying here, feeling each other's breaths."

Y/N nodded, a contented smile playing on their lips. The residual warmth from the high mixed with the delicate touch of Reneé's kisses created a cocoon of comfort and connection.

As the room bathed in the gentle glow of subdued lights, the two exchanged quiet words, sharing thoughts and emotions in the stillness of the moment. The outside world seemed distant, leaving only the hushed sounds of their breaths and the tender exchange of affections.

Reneé lifted her head to meet Y/N's gaze, her eyes reflecting a shared understanding. "You okay?"

Y/N nodded, a lingering smile on their face. "Yeah, more than okay."

The room held them in a tranquil embrace as they lay there, their breaths gradually syncing in a rhythm of shared calm. In the quiet aftermath of the night, Y/N and Reneé found solace in the simple beauty of being together, their connection deepening with each passing breath.

#renee rapp x reader #lesbian #wlw #renee rapp #lgbtq #regina george x reader #leighton murray #the sex lives of college girls #leighton murray x reader

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