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#its so rare for me to have sweet dreams like this one
togament · 2 days
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" 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. windbreaker boys edition. "
pt. 1. (sakura, ume, suo.)
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𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : kinda suggestive (i mean it's me. ofc its gotta be suggestive somehow), some swearing, kinda ooc for suo. can you blame me though? we know so little about the man and we're already 140+ chapters deep.
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𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.
- canonically doesn't own a pillow so he only sleeps on his side, curled up to conserve heat. like a cat. but after having you around? he's clinging onto you, man. he may deny it vehemently when you tease him about it in the morning, throwing pillows at you as he's blushing profusely, but he doesn't know you've taken a picture of him with his arm over your chest, tugging you close to him. - clenches and grinds his teeth when he sleeps. you buy him a mouth guard so his jaw isn't as tense when he wakes up. (TMJ sufferers rise up) - sleeps in his boxers when you're around but if not, he's going commando, baby. just... text him when you're planning on surprising him in the morning. give him prep time unless you're looking to eat sausage for breakfast. - gets bed hair but doesn't care. he'd have a huge cowlick on his head but he doesn't mind. best he could do is kind of wet his hair? anything more than that is too much effort. - very light sleeper. if he hears the smallest bump in the night, he's immediately up. - has only one duvet and it's kind of falling apart. you gifted him a new one and he almost cried in front of you (not without freaking out about it first.) - talks in his sleep sometimes. you record him whenever you catch him doing it just to play it back for him in the morning. he's always so confused as to how and why he does it.
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𝐔𝐌𝐄.
- won't sleep unless you give him his goodnight kisses. you have to. how dare you deny him of the pleasure of kissing you before you sleep? - always lets you sleep before he does because he reads before he sleeps. - needs reading glasses and falls asleep with them on. CONSTANTLY. you have to remind him about them before you snooze or you peel them off when you wake up before he does. has broken one (close to a dozen) reading glasses before you came along because he kept sleeping on them. - has to read before he sleeps. it's a necessity. he reads stuff ranging from philosophy to manga. never fails to fall asleep with a book in his hand too. - checks on a spreadsheet he's got for his plants so he has a game plan ready in the morning. checks the weather and temperature and everything before he does his reading routine. worries endlessly if a heavy typhoon drops or god forbid hailstorms. - HUGE SLEEP HUGGER AND YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. his body just naturally gravitates towards you in his sleep. it's cute. it's endearing. until it's a hot summer night and you're damn near naked because just wearing a shirt's making you sweat. ume's just a happy sleeping puppy of a man, sweaty body clinging to your side. - a very light snorer. you rarely ever get to hear him snore. he only does after a particularly tiring day or after you've had rounds and rounds of se-- - gets a boner most nights. - wet dreams often. you have to help him out in the mornings. - that being said, he's very, very touchy in the mornings.
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𝐒𝐔𝐎.
- sleeps like the dead. you may or may not have held your finger to his nose to check if he's still breathing. - never has bed hair. when he wakes up, he looks absolutely impeccable. it's crazy. - has a candle warmer set to a timer. likes sleeping when his surroundings smell good. also has a scent diffuser. - has like... a 30 minute long ritual before bed. candle warmer, check. proper pyjamas, check. pillows plumped, check. skincare routine, done. you always end up waiting for him on the bed while he's apologizing with that sweet voice of his while crawling into bed with you. - only ever sleeps facing up. if you want to cuddle, he could. but he can't engulf you in his frame or anything. just an arm around you or maybe with you pressed up against his side. - he runs cold so he's got thick duvets over thick duvets. they're really soft too. hotel quality. always gets them washed. - somehow you've never caught him in the process of waking up. he's always up before you, brewing tea or cooking breakfast. hell, he already has a set ready for you by the time you wake up. - who am I kidding suo never sleeps.
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a/n: just a quick little thing before i hop into bed. doing part two soon bc i wanna clown on kaji so fucking BAAAAAD omg (affectionately) ok goodnight babycakes.
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Forgot to share this here, but yesterday I had my first dream featuring Jeffrey and I'm still emotional about it (´;ω;)
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plutoswritingplanet · 3 months
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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt.3
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a/n: so i lied about this being the last chapter, there's one more, i know im sorry....... also shout out to my friends, who were unbelievably helpful with the smut part because oh, there's smut here
Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (yuuuh yuuuuuuh), Alcohol, like....a tiny bit of Humiliation.
Summary: The month-long courting comes to an end with a bang! As your engagement party commences, wine flows and darker feelings rise to the surface
Pt. 1, Pt.2 Pt.4 (finale)
In the darkness of the night, he still comes to you in your dreams, knife in hand, body taunt and ready to strike. Every single morning, you awake with a gasp, as visions of your tormentor plague you. In some, he slits your throat, reveling in the way red cascades down your nightgown. Other times, it's a quick and brutal stabbing, your insides twisting as you wake. 
But then, there are those rare nights where you rise from your bed, sweat clinging to your skin, as you fight with the pressure in your stomach, try to rid yourself of the images, before making yourself presentable for breakfast. 
Those dreams, nightmares, are the worst. 
White, elegant fingers, grabbing, pulling, pinching every surface of your exposed skin. Defined arms around you, squeezing your pliant body in an embrace that is as tender and romantic, as a snake suffocating its victim. Deceivingly soft lips, mapping a trail down your front, pulling back to reveal teeth, which make that same trail visible, hurting.
In those dreams, he paints you with black. Taints you, until you're molded into his perverse image, until there's no telling where he ends, and you begin. He makes you into a sculpture, in a way that an artist cuts away pieces of clay, slowly robbing you of all agency, until there's only what he wants to see. And you let him, with a trembling smile on your lips, hands twisted into the stained sheets of your bed. 
Ignoring him has become an art form as well.
Since your faithful tangle at the training barracks, you did everything in your power, to never appear in the same room as him, or at least, never alone. You became a shadow in your own home, a whisper of the person you used to be. Shame is a powerful thing, and you wore it like a wedding veil over your face. Paul would always help you, silently. Never asking outright what had happened between you and the Harkonnen, but somehow always knowing. Your brother, your salvation, breaks your heart everytime he grabs your hand, and leads you away from the predator in the room.
The date of your engagement party has been set a week into the future. The nervous bustling of the court only heightening your already wracked thoughts, as the inevitability of your situation begins to haul you to the ground. 
Your Mother took most of the preparations on her back, directing the servants, the kitchen, the musicians. She picked out a dress for you, some flowing abomination, which hung in your closet, reminding you every morning, that you will have to wear it with a smile. You hoped, there will be wine at the feast, hope that it will be sweet enough to dull your insides. 
As the date of the feast comes closer and closer, you begin to spend more time outside. 
The air is crisp and smells of seawater, and you can't help but inhale fully, every time. You want it seared into your brain, so whenever you're taken away from your home, you can run back to this memory, to the feel of grass under your fingers. 
- You'll catch a cold, if you keep sitting here.
Paul's voice brings you back from your dark thoughts, and you look up, from your spot in the grass. He stands a couple paces back, hands folded behind his back in a manner, that is reminding you of your Father more and more every day. 
- Do you want to join me? - you ask, your lips quirking up into a small smile - Or would you prefer to stand there like a pillar of salt?
Your brother shakes his head, before coming closer and plopping down next to you, his skinny legs stretched out in front of him. The both of you sit in silence for a while, enjoying the breeze ruffling your hair, the smell of ocean and the waves crashing into the cliffs. There are seagulls flying over your heads, and you feel the moisture from the grass seep into your clothing. 
A wistful sigh escapes you, before you can stop it, and you let yourself fall, laying flat on the hill. 
Paul looks down at you, undescribable sadness swimming in his eyes, and an instinct of sister awakes in you, a need to comfort, despite being a wreck yourself. So, you offer him a smile, a tired one, but a smile nonetheless. 
- Do you think we could take the horses for a ride today? - your brother asks with naive hope, his eyes turning to the sea.
- Mother won't allow me to go, she wants me to spend my pondering the proper behavior during the feast - try as you might, you can't hide the bitterness in your voice - Besides, I could fall off and hurt the merchandising. 
Paul's hand finds yours, and he squeezes your fingers tightly. It's hard not to break, in moments like these. When you're forced to remember, you'll most likely never see your family again. 
- If I could do something, anything... - you recognize that feverish note in your brother's voice, it's devoid of reason, impulsive, too much like you.
- But you can't, so you won't.
A frustrated sound escapes his mouth, and he turns back to the sea. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, eyelashes falling heavily on your cheeks. He looks like a Duke, you conclude, and that thought feels strangely comforting. No matter where you'll be shipped off, no matter what life has in store for you in the future, somehow, you know your brother will persevere. 
- Do you remember that time Gurney made us train on the beach? - you ask, a sudden wave of nostalgia washing over you, as the clouds float in the sky above you - Cause of the... The balance. We had to try to balance in the sand.
Paul twists his head towards you, surprised at the turn of the conversation, before cracking a smile. 
- Yes, he slipped on the rocks, nearly broke his backbone - he starts to wave his hands around in a wonderful reenactment of your mentor's fall, before collapsing next to you in the grass.
Your laughter mingles with the sounds of the sea, as the both of you, the future of House Atriedes, share memories, scenes from the life you've lived together. The good and the bad. The horse races through plains and hills of Caladan, the many, many food fights. It's hard to tell, how much time you spend together, laying in the grass, but when you finally fall into silence, the air has become considerably more chilly. A sign, it's time to return to reality, to your duties. 
- You should've been me, and I you - Paul whispers suddenly, and you close your eyes in a pained expression. 
Perhaps it's true. Perhaps Lady Jessica made a mistake, and gave a Daughter where she should've given a Son. Now, it's no longer important. Your roles have been set in place, all you could do, is fulfill them. Somewhere back, in the direction of the Palace you can hear a voice calling your names. A reminder, that the world outside this grassy sanctuary exists, and can't wait any longer. 
You move to stand, Paul gathering himself up closely behind. Your clothes stick to your body, and you're shivering from the cold, but if you could spend just one more moment exactly like that, you would've taken that chance without question. 
An arm snakes around your elbow, and you lean onto your brother's shoulder, as you start to walk back, steps swaying like a pair of drunkards. Then, Paul tugs you closer, you can feel him tense suddenly, as he leans with a sullen expression on his pale face.
- I hate the way he looks at you - he confesses, waves upon waves of righteous Atriedes fury crashing in his voice.
You don't know how to respond to that, so you stay silent, giving his arm a reassuring tug.
That was the last conversation you've had with your brother.
*** While the House Atriedes is characterized by a rather mellow temper, there was one thing they took extremely seriously. And those, unfortunately for you, were engagement rituals. 
So, that's why you sit posed like a porcelain doll in a deep chair, next to your soon-to-be husband, at the foot of a long table, surrounded by music, and dancing, and food. There are ribbons hung from the high ceilings, and flickering lights float around them like little fireflies. You watch, as they dance above you, the ridiculous headdress placed on your hair digs into your skul. Color surrounds you, your own dress flowing like a waterfall, elegant, yet delicate. The pools of fabric gather around your legs, a chiffon monstrosity, that you know, is supposed to make you beautiful. 
And perhaps you would've felt beautiful, if this was any other occasion. A birthday feast, perhaps. Dare you say, and engagement party with someone you actually loved. 
Speaking of which, your betrothed sits beside you, sticking out like a sore thumb. He looks utterly bored, eyes following the celebrating masses, hand playing with a steak knife. Not enough blood for his tastes, you suppose. He's dressed in traditional Harkonnen attire, which you think, doesn't really look that much different from all the other outfits you've seen him in. Black, sleek, efficient. You must be a curious pair, a mass of colorful materials and a black-stone pillar. 
The wine, thankfully, is sweet. It warms your face, and turns your insides into a pleasant mush. You should've eaten more, but then again, it was a celebration of your imprisonment, and if you wanted to get drunk, you would. And you did get drunk. Quickly. 
The dress moves with you, as you slowly slide down the chair, one leg resting up on the seat. A frightfully unbecoming sight, but you can't find it in yourself to care. Another, clumsy drink from your cup, and you sigh deeply, blinking a couple of times to rid yourself of sudden dizziness. 
Your betrothed gives you a look, whether it's of warning or amusement, you're not sure. And you don't care. Your nose scrunches in the general direction of his smooth head, and you take another sip, just to spite him.
- Shut up - you grumble, a slurr entering your words.
- I haven't said a word - he counters, and this time you can see him smile.
- You're thinking, it's annoying.
Feyd Rautha has an unpleasant laugh. 
Sharp and low, and very rough around the edges. It's like listening to an old spaceship try to take off, and you're sure you don't want to hear him laugh ever again. That's it, your goal in this, frankly, fucked up marriage, will be to never make your husband laugh. Although, it's best not to think about it so loudly, he might be a hidden mind reader, and would most likely laugh in your face every day, just to torture you. 
God. You were going to regret every sip come tomorrow morning.
- You're wrapped like a present - Feyd Rautha leans down with a smirk playing on his full lips, and you have to crane your neck to look him straight in the face - Shall I unwrap you here, while your family watches?
Despite the light tone, you shiver under his gaze. Something in the way his body seems relaxed yet tense at the same time tells you, this shameless man would do it in a heartbeat, if you as much as inclined your head. 
- Gross - you groan, hand untangling itself from the amassing of chiffon to push back at his face.
It's the first time, you've touched him out of your own volition, and even in your drunken daze, you note the sudden glint in his eyes. Fingers grab at your wrist, keeping you in place, as he leans further into your touch, turning his head slightly. Wine mixes with sudden embarrassment, as his lips brush against the meat of your palm. Then, black teeth shine and your heart jumps to your throat, as he bites down on your skin, hard enough to make you jump. Tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your thumb, before giving your fingertip a tiny nibble.
You tear your hand away from him, pressing it into your chest with an appalled expression. There are indents just below your thumb in the shape of his teeth, and the confounding feelings you've been trying to stoke for almost a month now, come crashing down upon you.
He looks satisfied with himself, returning back to his seat, and his steak knife. The utensil reflects the flowing lights, and despite yourself you swallow thickly, turning back to your cup, which is quickly becoming empty.
God, it was getting incessantly hot in this cursed dining hall. 
Whether it was the wine, or the sudden wave of knee-bending arousal washing through you, you couldn't tell. (It was both, you were fully aware it was both) And you're uncomfortable, terribly so. You fidget in your seat, almost painfully aware of the heat, which has now spread further down. The fabric of the dress slides against your body, skin becoming far too sensitive, too hungry for touch. You try to relieve some of your torment, legs squeezing and rubbing together. Treacherous tongues of self-awareness rear its ugly heads, and you look up, and...
Of course he noticed. 
Feyd Rautha places his chin in his hand, and he observes you with a knowing look, which turns dark and terrifying as soon as your eyes meet.
- Careful, lest the court starts talking - he warns you, his voice somehow becoming deeper than before, and you take a shuddering breath.
Dagnerous, this is dangerous.
 You're seated far away from your family, from any consolation, and even if they were close enough to intervene, the masses of dancing people, the sound of their laughter... Your heart stops, a snake curling itself around your insides. Truly, if that beast of a man wanted to, he could make do of his threat from earlier, and take you where you sit. Haunted by that thought, both terrifying and arousing, you down the rest of your wine. 
It doesn't taste as good anymore. Hell, it threatens to come back up, until you force it to sit in your stomach. 
Duncan, you need to find Duncan, or you'll do something incredibly stupid. You'll do something incredibly stupid either way, but at least the regret will be less biting. So, pulling yourself up on trembling arms, you shuffle out of your chair, your betrothed's heated gaze following you on your way through the hall. 
People don't even look at you, too enraptured with free food and drinks, and the music, which flows loudly through the air. Good, in any other case, the Duke's Daughter, stumbling drunk through corridors, would certainly lift some eyebrows. Your feet carry you towards the training barracks, a familiar route you've followed many times. Indulging in sex with your Father's most trusted advisor was not the healthiest form of regulating emotions, but you needed something, and God knows, you'd rather die than get it from anyone else. From Him especially.
The choice is made for you, however, as a strong hand wraps itself around your arm, just above your elbow, yanking you backwards, behind a stone column. The world spins in front of your eyes, and for a second you worry the company of wine warming your insides is about to abandon you along with breakfast. 
- Do you truly thought, you could sneak away from me?
Finally, your eyes focus on Fey Rautha's face, almost demonic in the low light of the corridor. Shadows play on his expression, falling heavily over his eyes, and you try to wrench yourself from his grasp.
- What I do is none of your business - you slurr out, wringing your arm every which way, his fingers digging painfully into your flesh - Let go of me.
The Harkonnen presses himself closer to you, trapping your body between the stone and himself. His nose nearly crushes itself into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, taking a disturbing long whiff. You can feel his chest vibrate against your own, as he groans deep within his throat. It sobers you up in record speed, and you start to thrash in his hold. He subdues your outburst, as if he was made for it, before dragging his nose up, towards your hair. You snarl like a wild animal.
- Let me go. 
His body moves on its own accord, tearing itself away from you in an instant, legs tripping over themselves, to put distance between your bodies. He looks up at you, muscles tense and an expression of shock painted across his pale face. 
The ability to use the Voice was something you rarely took part in. Training sessions with your Mother went well, as expected of a woman, but you still had a lot of work ahead of you. You blink forcefully, steadying yourself against the wall behind you. Then, you notice the borderline murderous look on your soon-to-be husband's face.
- Witch - he spits out, baring his blackened teeth at you.
- I am the Daughter of Duke Atriedes - your voice carries a note of righteous pride, despite dread climbing up your spine - And you will treat me with respect, wedded or not.
He straightens himself with petrifying speed, and as he takes a step towards you, actions overtake reflection. Your hand winds back, and you bring a resounding slap across his sharp cheekbone. While your palm blooms with pain, he seems to barely react, closing the distance between the two of you after a tense beat. Before you have a chance to react again, his hands grab at your face, and his lips crash against yours in a punishing kiss.
Teeth clink together and the momentum of the kiss makes your head collide with the stone pillar behind you. He's fingers dig into your cheeks and your jaw, as he devours you completely, bringing down all your defences in one swoop. You kiss him back, almost immediately, opening your mouth to let him in, to meet his tongue halfway. It's almost grotesque, how much you hate and love this at the same time, the buzzing of the wine mixing with the sound of your racing heart, with the sound of his unabashed sounds of pleasure. 
Hands flail at your sides, as you grab all you can take, pulling him even closer by the thick fabric of his tunic. 
His hands however, know exactly what they want, and as he lets go of your face, they both sink down. Fingers hook into the neckline of your dress, and he tears it down, your entire body swaying with the force of his movement. Your breasts are freed for only just a moment, cold air hitting them in a way that would be uncomfortable, if they weren't immediately covered by your betrothed's large palm. He palms at your chest, as if he wants to crush it, and you bite back a whine, which threatens to spill from your abused lips. 
- Don't - he growls a warning, unoccupied hand tangling itself within your hair - Sing.
And you do. As his mouth descends upon your neglected breast, where he alternates between licks and bites that make your back fly off the wall. Once again you don't know what to do with your hands, finding them entirely useless in the Harkonnen's overpowering grasp. One, grabs at his shoulder, undecided on whether to push him off, or pull him in closer. The other one scratches four lines into his skull, as he sucks on the sensitive skin under your ribs. 
Finally, he detaches from you completely, standing straight and regarding you with a look so intensely ravenous, it shakes you to your core. Your exposed chest rises and falls in tandem with your heaving breaths, and you shiver, as cold air hits your skin. His gaze drinks in your dissheveled hair, the way your lips are puffy and red. A beautiful sight for his blackened eyes. 
- I know who you went looking for - he starts, stalking towards you once again - Can't have that, can I?
You debate feigning confusion, outrage at such accusation, which hasn't really been uttered yet. But, as Feyd Rautha stops just short of the bottom hem of your dress, you suddenly find yourself unable to speak. Instead, as a last ditched effort to rid yourself of him, your hand extends, a half-hazard attempt at liberation. He swats it away, as one would a mere fly, before sinking to his knees in front of you. 
- Lift up your dress, Viper - his voice is like thunder in your ears, and you bite your lips at the sight of his eyes, dark and surprisingly eager.
Hands move clumsily in an effort to gather all those translucent layers. You nearly trip over yourself, earning a rather nasty chuckle from below. As soon, as your legs are visible, he dives between the chiffon, his head dissapearing from sight. You can feel his lips, traveling up the expanse of your calf, giving a light bite under your knee. 
Anticipation siezes your gut, and you grab onto the wall, as if that would save you. His hands grab your leg, skin incredibly warm to the touch for someone who looks so cold, and then, with forceful tugs, he starts to manouver you. 
You let out an unbecoming squeak, as he yanks your leg over his shoulder. Strong hands keep you in place, and he reaches out around the upper part of your thigh to all but tear your undergarments off of your core. The force of this action makes you jump in place on your one available leg, just to hold your balance, and for a second you consider swatting at him. 
That thought leaves you almost immediately after it appears, as an onslaugh of kitten licks unleashes downward. A vague, head like shape moves under your dress, the chiffon floating from place to place like a hypnotizing river. The wine must've heightened your senses to an alarming degree, because as soon as Feyd Rautha begins his ministrations, you're a mess. 
It's honestly humiliating, the way you fight for any purchase on the wall behind you, as he begins to lick in earnes, parting your legs further with one hand, while the other wraps securely around your used leg. While there, he cops a feel of your behind, fingers biting into the soft flesh, and you lock your lower lip between your teeth so hard, you can taste blood on your tongue.
As if he's developed some new telepathic talents, his hand leaves your ass, in favor of winding up, and slapping it harshly. The action makes your jump in place once again, a sound stuck between outrage and glee fleeing your throat, before you have the chance to stop it. Right, "sing", you remind yourself, and immediately feel him change his tactics. 
Your bundle of nerves opens new possibilities of torment, and as his lips close around the bud, you can't help the whine, escaping through your lips. The music is loud, you remind yourself. They won't hear, no one will hear. His hand pushes your dangling leg further up your shoulder, and your back arches from the stone. You will be sore as all hell after this is done, but for now, it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters, except the way your betrothed eats you out, like a man who's been starved for decades.
- Oh shit - you curse, hands flailing uselessly - Oh fuck!
All of a sudden, everything stops, and your building peak subsides into a dissatisfactory simmer. Feyd Rautha's head emerges from under the fabric, a terrible, shit-eating grin on his wet lips.
- Such language? - he teases, tongue darting out to lap at your arousal - So unbecoming of a-...
- Fucking don't stop! - there's panic in your movements, as you grab the back of his head, and shove him right under your dress again.
The laughter should be unsettling for you, but he returns to his post with twice as much motivation, and however more strength, and before you know it, your orgasm sneaks upon you. A sudden tightness in your core is all the warning you get, before the coil snaps, and your entire body starts to spasm in pleasure. 
It's good. Incredibly so. You'd risk saying it's the most intense you've ever came, but never out loud, never to him. That shameful secret was between you and whatever God that was listening. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, your breathing stopping for just a moment. 
And then you go deliciously limp, legs giving out completely. 
To his credit, the Harkonnen catches you before you hit the floor, the arm curling around your leg proving to be an unmeasurable support. His head emerges from under the dress once again, and he lets you slide down the wall, until you're seated. He sways on the balls of his feet, still towering you, even as he crouches. 
You swallow, throat slightly raw from all the noise you've done moments ago, and he follows the movements of your neck muscles with greedy eyes. Still greedy, after taking so much. Truly, he was a Harkonnen. And before you can stop yourself, a thought materializes in your brain, a treacherous little information, which would shake you to the core, if your muscles weren't currently made of taffy.
He blushes pink. Your betrothed blushes pink, from the exercise of making you cum on his tongue alone. God, what a precious sight.
He must've noticed the serene smile playing upon your lips, and his nature to ruin comes to light. His hand reaches back, and you freeze in your spot, as you recognize that damned golden steak knife. The blade shines in the dimly lit corridor, making your breathing faster, questions swimming behind your eyes. You don't really want to fight him in this state, but you fucking will, if he tries anything. 
- An engagement present, for you, Viper. - he rasps, licking his reddened lips in an obscene display, which doesn't repulse you quite as much as it should. 
- I have nothing to give in return - your voice is stern, and your betrothed flashes you an evil grin.
Then, he presents you the tip of the knife, golden utensil hanging between his slender fingers, and you look up at him, not understanding what is expected of you. Placing one knee on the floor, Feyd Rautha lowers himself to your eye level, for the hundredth of times surprising you with the sheer grace in his movements. 
- Kiss - he whispers, into the space between the both of you.
Your eyes fall to the knife, then, to him and you take a long, deep breath. Pride, your biggest flaw, takes a deadly hit, as the man twists the knife in his fingers, looking at you expectedly. You hate him, truly and deeply, and it must be showing on your face, because he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, as soon as your eyes meet. 
Swallowing your pride, you keep his gaze, leaning towards the blade. Your lips press delicately against the cool metal and the Harkonnen flashes you a nasty, self-satisfied smirk, before slipping the knife up his sleeve and standing up. 
- I'll see you back at the feast - he gives you a small bow, and you press your lips tightly together.
- Fuck you.
- After the wedding, my Viper.
And with that, he turns around.
 You're left there, on the floor, your dignity in shambles, the exertion catching up to you all at once, as if his presence alone was the only thing keeping you from feeling pain. A stupid thought, you chastize yourself, before slowly pulling yourself from the cold tiles. 
It takes you a couple of shameful minutes, trying to put yourself back together again. The ridiculous headdress, which has slipped all the way down from your hair, will probably never look the same, as when your Mother has styled it, but you can't find it in yourself to care. 
The music still plays, as you enter the hall, and thankfully, no one notices your arrival. No one but your betrothed, who raises his drinking cup in your direction, as if nothing had happened. His face is annoying, you conclude, and turn away, your aching legs taking you towards the center of the room, where people danced and sang in celebration of your engagement. What a lovely sight, what a lovely couple. Opposites attract, right?
Bitter, aching and humiliated, you throw yourself into the crowd, let it sway you from place to place, as you dance away this whole wretched week. The whole month-long courting rituals, which were just a bullshit attempt at torture. 
It's said, that when Death comes to take your soul, you're allowed one more dance before the eternal void. 
So you dance. 
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siribaes · 4 months
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WHO’S BETTER THAN ME?
RIO x blackfem!reader (oc - Angel)
“After their breakup a decade ago, Rio reunites with high school sweetheart making up for lost time—”
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PARING: Exes to Lovers / Past High School Sweethearts
SUGGESTED TUNES 💿: Tu Principe by Daddy Yankee, What You Want by Ma$e & Total, Throwback by Usher & Jadakiss, Thugman by Tweet & Missy Elliott, Only U by Ashanti
CONTENTS: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, or*l (fem receiving), f*ngering, praise k*nk, slight possessive k*nk, Rio being a bedroom bully lol, some light use of Spanish, makeup s*x, cursing, etc. (UNEDITED/ NOT PROOF READ) / GIF CREDIT: @blackisblackisblack
AUTHOR’S NOTE: this was supposed to be a drabble but turned into a full-blown fic, but anyway LOL. so i did a lil AU for rio, essentially he pulled a griselda blanco moved operations to Long Beach (Rio is so west coast coded to me) but yeah, the backstory of these two is that they were childhood friends turned high school sweethearts (class of 2005 in my AU lore of these two, hints at the music choices, etc.) before they went separate ways yada yada, the oc’s face claim is danielle brooks 💖 as always enjoy y'all
Makeup sex shouldn’t be this good. Like this was too good, like ultimate dream-fantasy level type of makeup sex. It felt unreal, except this was very real. Very, very, real.
Angel never imagined that her night would've ended up like this, in the arms of her high school sweet-heart, or rather sitting on top of a very expensive, entry way console, as her high school-sweetheart-turned-ex, used his nimble hands to fondle at her luscious curves, and pillowy-soft lips to suck on the sensitive part of her neck. From how hard Rio sucked and kissed on her neck it was surely going to leave a hickey, which might've been on purpose on Rio's part.
Since they were young, Rio always had a slight possessiveness towards Angel, nothing that was too domineering or chauvinistic, but still a possessiveness that was rooted in a love and a true appreciation of her. This of course was expressed in a way that only a sixteen-year-old Rio could, buying Angel's favorite snacks for school, littering her neck with hickeys during make-out sessions, and even saving what little he had to buy a gold necklace with an angel shaped pendant. It was the subtle ways Rio showed how he felt. That in addition to the verbal ways, in true young-Rio, braggadocious fashion. Even then Angel knew, deep, deep, down, that there would be no one who could measure up, or as Rio so accurately foretold the night of their break-up, "Who else is like me, hm? Who's better than me?"
Angel of course buried that fact deep into her subconscious, well, not deep enough, because in each of her relationships since, it managed to rear its ugly head every single time. Most recently, with her ex-fiancé, Nathan. Nathan was great at first, good conversation, amazing dates, lavish gifts, he treated her like princess. But slowly, over time, Nathan stopped trying, it especially became bad after their engagement. They rarely talked, unless it was about work, or wedding plans, he neglected her, especially in the bedroom. Angel soon realized that despite Nathan's neglectfulness, she made no effort to confront him about it. She didn't care, not a single bit. In the end, Angel had to accept that her heart belonged to someone else. That Rio was the only man for her.
Which brings her too tonight, Angel's high school class's reunion. It was a big one, celebrating 20 years, and Angel thought it would be the perfect remedy to cheer her up. She could let loose, reunite with some old classmates, and celebrate with her friends she's had since then. Something that could put her mind at ease, pull her focus away from the abysmal ending to her engagement.
She was having a good time, truly, cutting up on the dance floor to a killer set of music from 04' and 05', with her besties, Clarissa, Benny, Keke, and Dre. Angel was having the time of her life, dancing to Lose My Breath by Destiny's Child, when her friends froze, their eyes all staring at the bar of the ballroom. Clarissa leaned and whispered.
"Rio's, here."
Angel's mind and heart went to full overdrive, as memories of their relationship flooded her mind. Apparently, while Angel and her friends were having the time of their lives, Rio showed up and instantly became the talk of the town. He had a few breezy conversations with old classmates, charming them of course, and when asked about what does for a living, he smoothly responded that he was an entrepreneur, that he's always been good with numbers. Which wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either. Of course, none of their classmates were aware of Rio's true dealings, only Angel and her close circle were privy to that info.
Despite the nerves that bubbled in her stomach, Angel, knew that she had to face Rio at some point. She marched over and sat at the bar next to him. After some awkward pretense, more on Angel's part than Rio's, and shot of whiskey later, they talked. The conversation flowed and soon before they knew, it was like old times. They caught up and laughed about old memories. More and more Angel felt her heart swell in her chest, her latent feelings for Rio were bubbling to surface. But Rio surprised her, after sharing a couple dances to slow jams, a proposition slipped freely from his lips.
"Come home with me?"
From a safe distance, her friends watched the exchange, seeing the chemistry they still had after all this time, and despite some reservations, they encouraged to follow her heart, or as Keke put it, her pussy. When they were parting ways, Clarissa hugged her tight and encouraged her, whispering in her ear, "Just go with him, girl. Have some fun, we both now you deserve it after the shit you've been through."
So, here she was, whimpering and writhing underneath Rio's touch, while simultaneously admiring the backyard view. An ink-colored sky served as a gorgeous back drop, for the glowy lit infinity pool, in the distance was twinkling lights from buildings near the coastal beach. It was truly a sight to see. Angel snapped back to reality when she felt a firm hand, cradle her chin.
"Where'd you go?" Rio asked. His Coca-Cola colored eyes stared back at her. His head tipped to side, long eye lashes fluttering against the tops of cheeks as he blinked.
His gaze was heavy was lust, completely unrelenting. Its intensity caused Angel to squirm in her seated position. A warmth bloomed underneath her skin as she rubbed at the part of her neck Rio just was. It was still wet from his kisses.
"N-nowhere, baby," Angel stammered.
Slowly, Rio lips curled into a half smile.
"Good," Rio nodded his head as his gaze traveled down to Angel's chest, zeroing in on the exposed skin the peeked through her top, "now take this shit off. I wanna see them titties, Nena."
Completely under his spell, Angel quickly took of her top, leaving her in a lacy, cerulean colored bra, her mini skirt, and a pair of thoroughly soaked panties. Immediately Rio, hand's palmed at Angel's breasts, rubbing and squeezing them. A soft moan escaped her lips, as Rio's lips latched onto one of nipples.
"Yes, baby," Angel sighed, her hands cradled Rio's head close to her. His tongue alternated between soft flicks and harsh sucks at her left nipple. He released her nipple with a pop and went to the right nipple, repeating the same thing, "Fuck, baby, just like that. Shit!"
Angel could feel the wetness pool inside of her panties, as her clit began to throb. She needed Rio, real bad.
"Damn," Rio breathed out. He pulled away from Angel's chest, while his large hands rubbed at her ample thighs. His lips curled into a wicked smile as he admired his handywork. Angel's boobs glistened with sweat, as her hardened nipples stood at full attention, with spit dripping from them, "I missed them titties, girl. Fuck, I need to that pussy too. Lift up for me."
Angel obliged. Rio supported her with one hand, while with the other, slipping off her mini skirt and panties. He tossed the skirt to the floor, while he pocketed her panties. A storm swirled in his eyes, a thick haze of lust, as he admired Angel's, wet, glistening, pussy.
"I dunno if I can wait, mama," Rio rasped. He brought a finger to Angel's core, swiping at her wetness, and brought it back to his lips, sucking on it, "You taste good, mama. All this shit for me?"
Angel nodded. "Yes, it's all for you baby,"
Wordlessly, Rio plunged his fingers inside of Angel, who let out a yelp in response. He quickly fell back into old habits, fucking Angel with his fingers, just the way she liked it.
"Yeaaahhh, just like that," Rio rasped, he bent down and licked at her lips, "Be a good girl and fuck my fingers back," Angel whined loudly, following his instructions, lifting her hips slight and fucked his thick, fingers.
"Fuck! I'm close baby!"
"I gotchu, mama. Fuck, I feel you on my fingers. You gonna let me take care of you, huh? I'll give you anything you want mama, fuck, you being so good for me. Cum for me, darlin',"
And she did. Angel's eyes squeezed shut as she gushed over his fingers. A string of curses and pleases slipped from Angel's lips as Rio continued to fuck her through her orgasm. She could feel the cum slipping down her thighs.
"Mi alma, you look so good cummin' for me," Rio praised her. He captured her lips and kissed her sweetly. His tongue swirled around in her mouth as mimicking the move with his fingers. Angel pulled away from him, mewling.
"Riooooo, fuck, slow down baby,"
Rio landed a firm smack on Angel's ass. He cradled Angel's chin bringing her eyes towards him. His eyes hardened a bit, still holding its lustful haze, now a bit possessiveness broke through. Rio crooked his fingers, slowing down his pace just a tad, but driving into Angel's pussy much harsher and deeper.
"Fuck, I say about that shit," He growled.
"Shit! Baby, I-I'm s-sorry," Angel whimpered. Her mind flickered back to them making out in the car, he only to wanted to her his name, his real one, "Christopher, 's too much,"
A look of pure satisfaction bloomed across Rio's face. Got her.
"Just one more, mama. Be a good girl for me," Rio sunk down to knees, he slowly placed small kisses at Angel's inner thighs. He worshiped the plushness of her thighs, while Angel writhed and whined. He inched closer, spreading Angel's thighs further apart. He admired how she dripped around his fingers. "Fuck, mama I want you to cum on my tongue, 'k?"
Rio kept his eyes on Angel as he licked at her entrance, swirling his tongue around his fingers, continuing on until he reached her clit. Rio pressed a soft kiss to Angel's clit.
"Christopher!" Angel shouted.
Rio worked in tandem, his long fingers plunged in and out of Angel's, while his tongue swirled around her clit, flicking at the sensitive bud. Angel's hands rubbed at the soft hair of Rio's buzzcut, while the familiar thrumming of her orgasm quickly approached.
"Christopher, fuck, I'm soooo close,"
Rio pulled back, "Say it again,"
"Christopher,”
“Again,”
“Christopher, Christopher, Christopherrrrr, keep fuckin’ me, I’m so close,”
Rio grinned as he returned to her pussy. He latched onto her clit, sucking so harshly, Angel for sure believe that it was going to be bruised. His fingers fucked her even faster, as she clenched around them, as Rio French-kissed her pussy. He was completely relentless, wanting to see her cum, again, again, and again. With one last, harsh suck at her clit, Angel, exploded. She screamed in pleasure as she rode out her orgasm. Rio rose up, slowly pumping his fingers, before pulling out.
"Did so good for me," He mumbled against her cheek, holding her close as Angel rode out the aftershocks.
“I love you so much, baby,” Angel whispered in his ear.
Rio captured her lips again, kissing Angel. He licked at her mouth, allowing Angel to taste herself. Rio arms snaked around Angel's torso, and with ease, managed to throw her over his shoulder. Angel giggled and kicked her feet and Rio moved to the stairs.
"Baby! What are you doing?"
"It's time for the real show to start, Nena," Rio teased, he playfully smacked her ass, "You ready for me?"
"Always."
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mydearesthrry · 5 months
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the morning after - h.s.
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a/n: so its soooo rare that i see what happens the day after a friendstolovers fic sooooo i wanted to make one but have it actually he realistic (lolol) so fhis is what that is. enjoyyy (also wrote this high as shit so if it doesnt make sense idk)
wc: 700 of fluff
Y/N rolled over in her bed, eyes clenched shut as she tried to adjust to the bright light shining through her curtains, her hair a mountain of frizz atop her head. She burrowed herself deeper into her pillow as she tried to hold onto the last bit of sleep she had, only to fail when she remembered what had happened last night.
She kissed him. She kissed Harry.
Her eyes shot open when she’d remembered what she’d done, her heart jumping out of her chest and making its way up to her throat. What was she going to do?
She gnawed on her lip as she got distracted in thought, trying to plan out how she was going to bring it up with Harry. But… there was no time like the present to rip off the bandaid, she guesses
Pushing her covers off of herself quickly, she marched to her door and threw it open before she could even regret it, the loud creak notifying Harry almost immediately that she was awake.
“Hey, princess!” Harry called from downstairs, making her nearly fall down the stairs.
“H-hi, H,” She stumbled, cursing herself when her voice broke. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good, good,” he nodded, eyes still downward, watching the frying pan. “Wha’ about you?”
“Oh, good, yeah,” She cleared her throat, pulling out a stool at the counter to sit on. “Have any plans today?”
She was honestly surprised at how nonchalant she was being, especially with her best friend, who, not even 12 hours earlier, had his tongue down her throat.
“Umm, not that I can remember.” He shook his head, turning his head quickly to smile at her.
“Oh, cool, cool.” She said through a yawn. Fuck. So much for keeping cool. Now he probably thinks she’s bored of him.
A few beats of silence passed before Harry pushed the pan up to the back burners of the stove, turning to face her. “So?”
“So…” She continued.
“Y’gonna come over here and give me my morning cuddle, or wha’?” He held his arms out expectantly, almost annoyed that she hadn’t gone over to him in the 5 minutes she’s been in the kitchen.
“Oh, sorry,” She squeaked, hopping off the stool and making quick movements to get to her best friend. “Hiiii.”
“Hi, lovie,” He sighed, wrapping his arms around her neck tightly in a hug, his nose burrowed into the top of her head, inhaling her scent.
“Sorry I forgot about your cuddle,” She whispered, pressing the side of her face against his chest, her arms around his waist. “Didn’t mean to.”
She didn’t know how quite to feel. The fact that he hadn’t brought it up at all was stressing her out, because she didn’t know if she was supposed to. Or if he was waiting for her to bring it up like she was waiting for him to.
“‘S okay,” He promised, pressing a kiss to her head. “But, y’know how y’can make it up t’me?”
“How?”
“By givin’ me a kiss. Fact that y’making me wait s’long to taste your lips again after I was nearly insatiable last night feels a little mean t’me.”
“Oh!” She said, pulling back just enough to see his face. “I didn’t know if you remembered that or… or still wanted it.”
“Baby,” He sighed, walking them over to the couch and pulling her onto his lap. “I will always, always want you. I will always want this. Jus’ having you here, close— closer, just how I always wanted to? ‘S a fucking dream, baby,” He murmured, leaning in to just touch the tip of his nose to hers. “You’re a dream.”
And with that, he placed the softest of kisses to her unexpecting lips, humming in content. “I’ll always want you, and I’ll always need you.”
“Promise?”
“Til’ the day I die, sweet girl.”
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shadowdaddies · 6 months
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is it okay if I request a lot?
Can you do a smut where it's just like lots of wingplay? With the same Summer Court female and Az? You wrote my last ask so beautifully it was amazing to wake up to, especially because you answered so fast!!!
honey it's okay if you request a LOT a lot, lol sometimes it takes me a little longer to get through my requests but I'm ALWAYS excited to see your ideas💜 and I love Az and the summer court reader, they're so sweet
A/N: this is a continuation of Part 1 but can be read separately
Wings of Desire (Pt. II)
Azriel x Reader
Warnings: smut below the cut, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, wing play, minors dni, not proofread sry
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You lurched awake in the bed, covered in sweat as you quickly took stock of your surroundings. Only once you had confirmed it was just the same nightmare as always did you allow yourself to breathe. A shiver ran down your spine as cold caressed your cheek, a shadow dancing along the wall before slipping through the door. 
You shook your head, realizing that you must be imagining things after that horrific dream. Before you could get swept up in the memories you had recalled in your sleep, you looked around the space, grounding yourself in the present. A small smile graced your lips as you remembered where you were. 
It was cozy in the High Lord’s cabin. Despite the unfamiliar chill of winter, the house was as warm and comfortable as ever. The space next to you on the mattress was empty, however - different from how you had fallen asleep next to a certain shadowsinger. As if summoned by your thoughts, Azriel knocked softly on the door to your room. “May I come in?” his low voice sounded through the door. 
A small laugh escaped you at the ridiculous question. “I fell asleep with you in here. Of course you can come in.” Only a moment passed, but it felt like a century before Azriel slowly entered the room, softly closing the door behind him. “I just wanted to check on you.”
Realization dawned on you as you cocked an amused brow at the spymaster. “Would the shadow you left behind have anything to do with your concern?” You admired the blush that reddened his cheeks as your theory was confirmed.
“I didn’t think it was appropriate to stay in here with you while you slept, but that shadow insisted on staying behind with you.” He spoke as if the shadow were an unruly child, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of the feared Night Court spymaster having trouble controlling his shadows.
“I much preferred it when you were in here with me, if you would like to stay in here,” you whispered, looking at Azriel with hopeful eyes. Another one of those rare smiles flashed across his face for a moment, before he schooled his features into an indifferent facade. 
“Of course,” Azriel murmured, moving to settle into his old spot under the sheets next to you. His shadows danced as the male settled into the sheets, and you watched enraptured by their personality. They seemed to be more telling than their master when it came to emotions. One shadow - likely the one who had stayed with you through your nightmare - darted out to brush your cheek, twirling through your hair as you let out a loud laugh at its playful nature.
As if your laugh got their attention, more shadows followed suit. They all moved towards you, like puppies eager for your attention. They played with your hair and clothes, until they brushed the inside of your wings, eliciting a loud moan from you. 
Azriel shot up in bed, frantic as he studied your face. “Are you okay? They aren’t bothering you, are they?” It was your turn to blush now, embarrassed by the scent of your arousal, which the shadowsinger had clearly picked up on, if his darkening eyes were any indication. He was frozen above you, eyes searching yours for an answer to his unasked question.
You reached up, threading your fingers through the hair at the nape of Azriel’s neck as you gently guided him towards you, your own eyes searching for any hesitation. Instead, Azriel eagerly leaned into your hold, lips brushing lightly against yours in a soft kiss. Shadows danced across your wings once more, this time eliciting a moan as you arched into Azriel. 
The energy between you changed drastically - turning from a chaste kiss to fervent need for more. Teeth and tongues clashed as Azriel climbed on top of you, both of you grinding against each other in a frenzy. You had never felt the need for someone like this, desperate to consume and be consumed as you ran your own hand down the outside of Azriel’s wing.
He growled into your mouth at the touch, and you smirked into the kiss - a silent challenge which he understood. Azriel quickly lifted your nightgown, leaving you bare and him only in his pants as he kissed his way down your body. He read you like a book, taking note of your reaction to every touch, knowing where to move next as you writhed under his hold.
The same shadows that had been teasingly brushing your wings now skated over your bare body, teasing your breasts and clit as Azriel licked a stripe up your core. Gripping your thighs, Az held you open as he ate you out hungrily, enjoying how you moaned praises at his touch. A scarred finger pushed into you, curling against your walls as Azriel sucked on your clit, his shadows oscillating against your wings. The overstimulation sent you over the edge with a scream, vision fading in and out as Azriel worked you through your orgasm.
The moment the smirking spymaster came back into focus above you, you shoved his pants down with your feet, ready to take control of the situation. When you tried to flip Azriel over to ride him, shadows wrapped around your waist, pinning you against the bed. Azriel smirked, shaking his head as he leaned down to suck on your neck. 
“Let me pleasure you for tonight, love,” he murmured, his deep rasping voice sending a shock of pleasure through you. Hazel eyes watched yours as Azriel pulled your leg over his shoulder, lining up at your entrance. A rough laugh left his lips as you wiggled your hips in encouragement, eager to be filled by him. 
Azriel pushed into you, making you feel more full than ever with his size. The both of you moaned at the feeling when he settled inside of you, waiting a moment to adjust before he began thrusting. Finding the spot that earned the most reaction from you, Azriel held you in place as he pounded relentlessly, stealing the breath from your lungs as he worked you. 
You clenched around him as you neared a second orgasm, and desperate to have him come with you, you reached your hands out to his wings. Fingers slid along the dark veins, satisfaction filling you as Azriel came inside you with a roar. Shadows were unleashed, again overstimulating your clit and wings as the both of you came together. 
Azriel fell to his elbows, hovering over you as he left kisses all over your face. Giggling under his sweet touch, you lightly pushed the shadowsinger back to look at him, shocked by the feeling that rushed through you as you looked in his eyes. “Mate,” you whispered.
A brighter smile than that which you had ever seen from Azriel graced his features. “Mates,” he confirmed.
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cuubism · 7 months
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I've written something very silly. Dating apps, texting fic, crack, smut. desire messing with dream. onlyfans creator hob. trans dream. Enjoy.
--
U up?
The notification from an unfamiliar app stared up at Dream from his locked phone screen. He frowned, perplexed. Nobody texted him. Certainly not with such vernacular.
Dream opened the notification. It pulled up the messaging page of a dating app, one he himself had certainly not installed—
Desire. He grit his teeth. Unfortunately, they weren’t nearby to receive his ire.
Dream looked again at U up? on the message interface. He clicked on the profile of the man who’d sent it, a “Kyle” who would not have looked out of place shotgunning a beer at a rager. Of course, Desire had not only gone to great lengths to establish him on this insipid app, but had also spent time matching him with the exact opposite of his type, presumably to cause him never-ending grief and annoyance. As usual.
Dream should probably have just deleted the app. Instead he responded, For?
What he received in response, a few minutes later, was a poorly-lit photograph of Kyle’s penis. Dream pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger with a sigh. He should have known.
I have seen better, he replied, and closed out of the app.
He had been back at his writing for ten minutes or so when his phone buzzed again. He checked the notification.
Brad: you could be MY good boy, kitty cat 😽
Dream gagged, but opened the man’s profile out of perilous, morbid curiosity.
Brad, 28, Hedge Fund Manager, “Looking for something casual on the DL”, likes golf and cryptocurrency— oh, dear. Somehow, Dream doubted this Brad truly wanted Dream to become a part of his life. Nor did Dream want to be his ‘kitty cat’.
He was going to have words with Desire.
You strike me as a man who brings choking into the bedroom without knowing what a safe word is, he wrote. Am I accurate?
I can choke you if you want, baby 😜, wrote Brad. Which may as well have been a yes.
Dream did not think that Brad was the person he wanted that from. Not to mention that his utter lack of kink safety knowledge would probably land Dream in hospital, and there were more interesting ways for that to happen than mediocre sex in a finance associate’s penthouse.
I would prefer to keep my brain cells, he wrote, and closed the app.
Over the next few days, Dream fielded many strange, annoying, and obscene messages from people on this app. He certainly had not “swiped right” on anybody himself, so he could only assumed Desire had done so on his behalf and had now left him to suffer the consequences of “matching.” By all rights, he should have just deleted the app off his phone. But Dream rarely communicated with anyone, certainly not strangers, and there was something a little bit entertaining about seeing what kind of drivel was being thrown his way. Was this how people attempted to court over the internet? Or perhaps Desire had merely “matched” him with the dregs of humanity.
By the end of the week, Dream had received seven “dick pics”, four offers to share one or more of his body parts in exchange for cash, and a request to become a seventy-five year-old man’s “sugar baby.” He was uncertain precisely what that entailed, but he was fairly certain he would not like it.
He had also received a text from Desire that read, enjoying yourself? ;) to which he did not respond.
His meager entertainment expended, Dream was on the verge of finally deleting the app when he received a different message:
Hob: Do you think it’s possible to cheat death by force of will, or are you too busy craving its sweet release to consider it?
Dream frowned, perplexed by the specificity of the message. Finally it occurred to him to actually look at the profile Desire had made. He swiped over to said screen, and sighed in aggravation.
Desire had, at least, chosen flattering photos of him. He supposed if the goal was to have Dream sexually harassed over the internet, this would have been a requirement. The photos definitely suggested something other than “serious, committed relationship”, but they weren’t terrible, at least.
As for the text—well, Dream finally understood where some of the more unhinged messages he had received had come from. He read through the given prompts, and Desire’s answers to them:
Dating me is like: You found a stray cat and brought it home and fed it and you were going to take it to the animal shelter but now it won't leave. It’s pretty cute if a bit mangy but it won’t stop biting your hand and mewing pathetically. The sex is pretty good tho.
“Pretty good.” Desire had written all this and couldn’t even manage to make Dream sound like a satisfying hookup. Typical.
He read on:
I’ll fall for you if: You tell me I’m a good boy 😳
Things were falling into place in Dream’s mind now.
Hob’s strange message seemed to arise from the main part of Dream’s profile, where Desire had listed his “religion” as “worshipping l’appel du vide.” An interesting element for this “Hob” to focus on. Dream did not think it was typical for messages on these apps to open with a discussion of death.
He switched back over to the messaging page of the app, and replied: I consider death often. As to your query, it depends: are you thinking of death as an entity one could escape, or a force like gravity? Or perhaps a place one must go?
Hmm, Hob responded, good question. I think it’s like a state. But a state of nothingness. See, if I thought it was a *place*, might be willing to go, see something new and all. But what’s the point of nothingness?
Nothingness is its own satisfaction, wrote Dream. It seemed peaceful, to him. Quiet. The lack of need for satisfaction in the first place.
But you won’t be there, so you won’t get to experience it, said Hob.
Precisely.
Huh. The void really is calling to you. You don’t like experience, then?
Is that innuendo? Dream asked.
Could be. If it is, do I get to be part of the toxic codependent relationship that ends horribly for everyone?
Another reference to Desire’s profile choices. What Dream was apparently “looking for in a relationship.”
That depends on the quality of your experience, he wrote.
I’ve received good reviews, said Hob.
You’ve yet to call me “kitten,” so I suppose I must concur on that front, replied Dream.
You started that one, little stray cat, said Hob.
Technically Desire had started it, but Dream had to grudgingly admit that his profile did invite such comments.
Having a smashing time in your dm’s, then? Hob continued.
I have received several unsolicited pictures of genitalia, wrote Dream.
Oh yeah? said Hob. Anything good?
Random strangers’ genitals did not interest Dream. There was a reason he did not watch porn. Mediocre at best, Dream said.
There was a long pause, and Dream hastily added, Do not send me a picture of your dick as comparison.
My dick is already all over the internet, you don’t need to get it here 😛, said Hob.
Dream blinked several times at his phone screen, as if to clear away a fog before a message that might make more sense.
What, he wrote.
Before Hob could reply, it occurred to Dream that perhaps he should actually look at Hob’s own profile. He had gotten too caught up in the strange conversation to remember to do so.
He opened it and— froze.
Dream had already deduced that Desire had intentionally matched him with whoever they thought Dream would be least interested in. He could see why they had thought the same of Hob, primarily because he was very different from Dream. In the past, Dream had tended to have flings with people who were rather like him, in some respects. “Tortured artists,” Death would say.
This was not Hob. For one, unlike Dream’s pouty and morose profile photo, Hob was actually smiling in the first picture on his page. And what a smile.
He was handsome, too. At least, Dream thought so. Handsome in a homey, comfortable way, the type of handsome that suggested really good hugs, and coffee in the mornings, and someone to come home to. Dream scrolled through more photos, and caught the spark of mischief in his eyes that belied his easy nature. This best matched the way Hob spoke in his messages, he thought.
It was not so much that Hob was his usual type, and more that Desire had unintentionally uncovered a type Dream had not known he had. He swallowed hard. Scrolled back up to read the details of Hob’s bio, in search of answers to the strangeness of Hob’s response.
Ah. His profession was listed as “OnlyFans creator.” That would explain it. He supposed he could track down Hob’s profile on said app. Dream was historically not very interested in porn, however. But he was finding himself interested in Hob.
He moved back to the messaging page, and wrote, before Hob could question why Dream was confused about information that was clearly stated in his profile, Ah. I see. I’m afraid I don’t watch porn.
That a moral stance? Bcuz I get enough of that already, trust me.
Personal taste, said Dream.
Prefer to get it in person, eh? said Hob.
Yes.
You’d do numbers on OnlyFans just fyi, Hob wrote. If u ever wanted more cash. Or does Poetry & Malaise pay better than I thought?
Dream’s “career,” according to Desire.
He supposed Hob's comment was flattering, in a way. Is that your own bias, Hob? Or your considered opinion as a professional?
Both ;), said Hob.
If that is your situation, then why are you on this app, dare I ask? Most people I have encountered seem to just be interested in sex but I doubt you are suffering from a dearth of it.
What, porn stars can’t want to get married? :(
Dream could imagine his pout. It was surprisingly endearing.
THAT is why you are here?
Sure, be judgmental about it, mister “I want to get consumed.” Or was that about vore and I misread it as metaphorical?
Dream spluttered, though Hob was not physically present to see it. Indeed, Desire had written that Dream wanted “someone he could consume and be consumed by in turn,” which was surprisingly accurate considering its intention had been to mess with him.
It is not VORE, he wrote. Then followed it up with, I have frequently been accused of being intense, possessive, and overbearing.
Well then we have that in common, Hob replied. By the way, sex for work is not the same as sex with someone you really care about. Or would you feel emotionally fulfilled after fucking your colleagues?
I don’t have colleagues, said Dream.
Right, right. Poetry and malaise.
And have you achieved much emotionally fulfilling sex from this app?
No :(, said Hob.
You are too handsome for that to be the case, wrote Dream, and realized what he had said a moment after he’d hit send.
He panicked internally until Hob replied, And here I thought I was just annoying you 🥰.
I might be having a crisis over your photos myself, Hob added, but let’s not discuss it or I’ll embarrass myself.
We could discuss it in a different venue, Dream wrote, heart in his throat. I am interested also in hearing your plans to thwart death. Perhaps over drinks?
Thought you’d never ask :)
So they set a time.
--
Drinks turned quickly into tumbling into Hob’s flat turned quickly into Hob pushing Dream up against the door and kissing him senseless turned quickly into falling into Hob’s bed. Dream was feeling quite happy about his decision to go on a date with this weird, death-obsessed OnlyFans creator. He had been right about Hob giving good hugs, he had learned that when Hob had greeted him at the bar. He had also learned that Hob really knew how to use his tongue.
“Fuck, Dream,” Hob said, looking up at him, lips wet. He had his hands wrapped around Dream’s thighs and his face between Dream’s legs, and yes, Dream was feeling very satisfied with his decision, indeed. He might even have to send Desire a gift basket. “You taste so good.”
“Your mouth is ungodly,” said Dream, tipping his head back against the pillow with a groan as Hob continued teasing him with that mouth, swiping his tongue through Dream’s folds and sucking on his clit.
“Converted you to a new religion? You’re done with the void, then?”
Dream twisted his hands in Hob’s hair, holding on tight, thighs trembling, heartbeat racing in his throat. “Perhaps.”
“Is Dream your real name, by the way?” Hob asked, pushing one finger into Dream, and then quickly two, as Dream moaned and clenched down on him. “I kind of thought it was fake.”
“No,” said Dream, though it came out as another moan. “It is real.”
“Fascinating.” And he went back to torturing Dream with his mouth, fucking him deep on his fingers, until Dream was squirming and writhing under him, trying to get away from Hob’s relentlessness even as he wanted to throw himself into its fire. He felt hot, feverish, taut all over, Hob’s hands were so good, and his mouth—
“Hob,” he whined, “please.”
Hob paused, looked up at him, lips and nose wet with Dream’s fluids. Then grinned cheekily. “Yes, kitten?”
And why did something that had sounded so revolting coming from anonymous strangers only make Dream laugh when Hob said it? He laughed, a horrible, choking laugh, and Hob laughed too, incredulously. Dream could not remember ever laughing during sex, it had always been a torrid and serious affair. But Hob was so charming and handsome and Dream wanted to kiss him.
“Come,” he commanded, drawing Hob up towards him by his hair, and Hob went, and Dream brought their lips together. Hob’s mouth was slick and tasted of Dream. It was heady.
Dream wrapped a leg around his waist and pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed together, and Hob ground his cock between Dream’s legs, between his folds and against his clit. He didn’t try to actually fuck Dream, though, which Dream figured was Hob’s professional good sense considering they hadn’t discussed birth control or anything in that vein in their haste. He imagined what might have happened if he had instead gone home with Brad of the un-negotiated choking kink, and laughed despite himself.
“What are you laughing at?” asked Hob, lifting his head to look at him. He really was so appealing, with his dark eyes, hair falling long over his forehead, his voice that was much more honey-warm than Dream could have imagined over text.
“I was thinking of the catastrophe that would have resulted had I slept with one of the questionable individuals I’ve encountered on that app, and my good fortune in finding you instead.”
Hob smiled, and kissed him, a proper first date type kiss, sweet and kind. Then he said, dragging his hand through Dream’s hair, tugging on it, “Don’t think about anyone else.” He kissed Dream’s jaw, then down his neck, nipping at his skin.
Dream dug his nails into Hob’s back, into his strong shoulders as Hob ground against him. He wished Hob was fucking him. His cock felt so good even just moving between Dream’s legs, and the weight of his body over Dream’s was so grounding. Next time, maybe.
He shivered as Hob moved faster over him, claimed his mouth with a hard kiss. “Come on me,” Dream urged, pulling Hob in tighter again with his leg wrapped around his waist. He reached between them and got his hand around Hob, and Hob groaned.
“Dream—”
Dream pulled him off in time with Hob’s own thrusts, and soon felt Hob’s hips stuttering, his grip tightening in Dream’s hair. He came over Dream’s hand and stomach, breathing hard against Dream’s throat. But he didn’t pause very long to recover himself, instead slipping three fingers back into Dream, making Dream arch against him with a shout.
“Hob!”
Hob worked him mercilessly until Dream was clenching around him with a gasp, body shaking as his orgasm ramped back up and hit him, fast and hard. Hob grinned against his throat as Dream panted, then gently pulled his fingers free and raised his head to look Dream in the eye as he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean of Dream’s spend. Fucking. Hell. And this man couldn’t find someone to marry him?
Hob kissed him again, and again it was sweet, and firm, like his hugs. Dream kissed him back, petting Hob’s hair. Pleased with the position he’d found himself in. Pleased with Hob.
“Good?” Hob asked, stroking a hand up and down his side.
“Very,” Dream sighed.
“Good,” said Hob. “For me, too.”
He kissed Dream’s cheek, and then went and got a soft wet cloth to clean them both up, and even brought Dream a glass of water. Truly Dream’s good fortune was unparalleled on this day.
Hob slipped back into bed beside him, and Dream laid on his side, head pillowed on his arm, gazing at him. Tucked an errant strand of Hob’s hair behind his ear. Ran his fingers over the stubble on Hob’s cheek. He really was quite handsome, especially mussed from sex, in the low bedroom light. Perhaps Dream was going to have to find his OnlyFans. Just so he could… take this home with him.
“You really are even prettier in person,” Hob murmured, studying him. “Although I don’t think the rest of your profile was really doing you justice.”
“That is because my sibling initially created it to annoy me,” Dream admitted. “However, I think I am the one who’s come out on top in the end.”
“That does explain some things,” Hob said with a chuckle. He took Dream’s hand and kissed his fingertips, met his eyes again. “I promise I won’t break your heart. If you stay.”
My BFF’s take on why you should date me, Desire’s profile fills had read: With luck you can be the next person to break his heart <3
Once again, it had not been entirely inaccurate. But perhaps it would be this time.
“I think I am inclined to,” he said quietly, and Hob smiled, that warm, endearing smile.
So Dream did stay that night, cuddled up in Hob’s arms. Feeling all warm inside, even when Hob had fallen asleep, and Dream was still awake, lying beside him. He often had a hard time sleeping, but he didn’t mind so much, right now. Hob was pleasant to cuddle up to, even if Dream couldn’t sleep. Hob was pleasant all around, in fact. Dream tended to fall fast and hard and he could already feel it hovering over him like a cresting wave. Fortunately, Hob didn’t seem inclined to be any more casual about him than Dream was feeling about him.
Dream thought he could get used to this.
With Hob’s arm still wrapped around his waist, Dream swiped his phone off the nightstand and opened his text thread with Desire, which still had enjoying yourself? ;) as the last message, as yet not responded to.
Having made Desire wait for several days already, Dream wrote, with a little smile, I think I am going to get married, and turned off his phone.
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thenerdywriter · 16 days
Text
the kiss (aka that one scene) and subsequently—
*spoilers for bridgerton s3*
ahem...this might be a bit indelicate? Let us think about who Colin is, at his core. he is a dreamer. he's sweet, he's kind to a fault, and he's also the Bridgerton brother most likely to have ao3 in the 21st century.
Penelope asks for a kiss, and Colin cannot deny her that. so much of their relationship is evinced by the fact that they cannot deny each other anything, even if it is at the expense of their own well-being. Penelope has never once voiced her feelings for Colin because she is aware that he would never see her in such a light, and mostly because, she does not think that her feelings are his business. In the books and in the show, Penelope has never voiced her crush.
So, when she's facing the very real prospects of remaining a spinster and firmly under the influence of her mother and sister (Prudence, especially, I don't really think Phillipa would be that bad) she makes a choice to ask the love of her life, mind you, the one man she had always felt safe with, to kiss her. She is waving goodbye to the dreams of being married, finding a place of her own in a world where a woman had no value if they were not attached in matrimony to a man. Yes, it seems pathetic, yes, it seems desperate. It is. It is desperate. Penelope is desperate at this moment, and she is reckless, but she is not pathetic. She wants to be kissed, and she asks for it, it is a moment where we see a woman exercise agency for the first time in her life. Feelings are so very rarely black or white, and so is this scene; on one hand, you feel wronged and angry at the fact that Penelope is pleading for a kiss, on the other, you empathize with her situation and where she is coming from. She wants this moment, and who better to ask from, than her best friend? Colin has always, always been there for her, and she has been there for him. They know each other the best, she has had the privilege of being able to love him. She wants love, and she has it in her hands at this moment, a fleeting, transient glimpse into what her life could be if she were someone else. This is the moment when Penelope Featherington's dreams are well and truly shattered.
And that same kiss turns Colin's world on its axis. It is so wonderful to see on screen how the same action can have two entirely opposite, but just as important effects on people. Colin has always loved Penelope. This is not even a discussion. He took action on behalf of her family (on behalf of her, really) when he found out about her cousin's schemes. He gives Cressida the cut direct when she humiliates Penelope in front of him. He seeks her out at every social assembly. He has always looked out for her and has always loved her. But all this is platonic. He has never felt a physical connection with her, because neither of them has had the chance to explore that avenue. Neither Colin nor Penelope are aware of their latent attraction to each other. For Penelope, it is because she has never been allowed to feel a physical connection with anyone, and Colin because he has never thought of pursuing a physical connection with Penelope. It is their kiss that ultimately awakens that connection in Colin, and by connection, Penelope asking Colin for a kiss is what puts the wheels in motion.
Which brings me to the first paragraph. Colin is the sweetest boy in the Bridgerton family (Gregory I love you, but nine children? Get off that woman, immediately). When he realizes that he likes Penelope, and loves her romantically, what does he do? He internalizes it like he does everything else. So much of Colin's character arc, both in the book and in the show is about him internalizing everything. He refuses to voice his own feelings if they make other people uncomfortable, much to the detriment of his own mental health. After being deceived in the first season, he removes himself from London because he cannot bear to stay in the city anymore, not when he is reminded of how naive and stupid he was, every moment. It is also important to realize that Colin has been viewed as the naive, soft-hearted brother, by everyone else. When he gets engaged in season 1, Anthony, his big brother, the example he is supposed to follow, tells him that he should have taken Colin to brothels and accuses him of getting married to have sex. In season two, Penelope, an outsider, is the only person who gives a damn about his thoughts. His own family refuses to listen to him, and what does he do when he returns a second time? He tells them, "I shall not bore you with the details". He knows, no one essentially gives a shit. This is why, when he comes to the knowledge of the full breadth of his feelings for Penelope, he internalizes so hard he dreams of her. And this is not an indelicate dream. He does not dream of taking her in the back of a carriage or on his yellow sheets, he dreams of her returning his feelings. He is yet unaware of the extent of Penelope's feelings toward him, but he knows he should not force his feelings onto her, and that is why he dreams of her.
I could go on and on about why Colin is the best Bridgerton brother (Gregory, nine children) but it will take up a lot of space, so I shall keep it brief: (in the show) Anthony almost marries Edwina, a girl who is what, thirteen(?) twelve (?) years younger than him, a girl who has no safety net outside of her sister and her mother, her sister whom Anthony was in love with, and refused to confront his feelings for. Literally, no one forced Anthony to propose to Edwina, he went down on one knee while being aware of his feelings for her older sister. Kate would have been content with relinquishing her younger sister to a marriage where she loved someone who would forever love another. Imagine if Anthony had married Edwina as he intended. Do you think, for even a second, that he would look at her face and not be reminded of Kate? Not to mention neither of them took action till the very last second, and Edwina, a bystander, was forced to ruin herself. Half the reason why she married abroad is the fact that not a single person in London would have married her (headcanon: she marries the Prince, fuck you, Anthony) when she was very publicly denigrated as the Viscount Bridgerton's cast-off. Yes, the Queen's favor saves Anthony and Kate's marriage from scandal, but it also saves Edwina, it saves her from further public embarrassment and scrutiny by a ton that not only views her as an outsider but also envies her for securing the title of the Season's Diamond. (Book)Benedict forces a woman from a servant class to be his mistress while he searches for the girl he fancied to be the love of his life. I'm sorry, there's no coming back from that. Colin gets angry when he is aware of who Lady Whistledown is, but his anger is not directed at Penelope herself. It is directed at her lack of thought for her own safety. Colin puts Penelope's safety and reputation over everything. In the carriage scene, he steps back as soon as he hears the words "but we are friends" from her mouth; he takes it as a sign, that this is Penelope telling him I don't have feelings for you, and he is happy to respect her wishes. Colin would have never voiced his feelings a second time if she had rebuffed him then, he would have been happy to remove himself from Society and spend his days on the Continent, writing in his journals. So much of both Penelope and Colin is them learning to voice their wants and desires and fuck, it's the most beautiful thing to watch as it comes to life on my screen.
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luna0713hunter · 8 months
Note
"you'll have to teach me " with zoro please and with
neck kisses / kitchen counter kisses
Kisses to keep your lover quiet but zoro kisses the reader
Lazy make-up
Thank btw I love your work
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Author's note : its currently 3:30 am that im writing this request and gosh so many cute kisses with Zoro! And thank you for your nice compliments!!i hope you enjoy it 💕
"you'll have to teach me"
"neck kisses"
"kitchen counter kisses"
"kisses to keep your lover quiet"
"lazy makeout"
Based on this prompt
Zoro Roronoa x reader
Warnings : none,lots of fluff and kisses,cute couple
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
Getting some privacy in a ship is nearly impossible.
You cant really blame anyone;its a public space that all the crewmates share,and no one has the actual time to relax and spend time in their lover's company.
But there are also mornings like this: where everything's soft in the glow of the rising sun;the ocean calm and the sky so blue with few clouds, it has you closing your eyes and wishing for that moment to last forever.
As you lean back on the kitchen counter after you've made yourself a cup of tea,you enjoy the rare moments of loneliness. You close your eyes and take a sip of the sweet honey flavor liquid and let the rays of the sunlight warm your face.
When you hear the sound of someone stepping inside the kitchen,you open your eyes;ready to greet Sanji, assuming he's going to make breakfast since he's always the first one to wake up. But what greets you is the sight of a very drowsy Zoro making his way toward you. You pour him a cup of tea as well and offer it to him;and eye him as he accepts it with a grunt. You grin and bump your shoulder to his,making him grunt again.
"not awake yet,sleepy head?"
"not my fault. Usopp snores. And Luffy talks about food in his sleep."
You snort around your own cup of tea, "what about Sanji?"
Zoro takes a moment to consider your question,a when he speaks next,he seems genuinely surprised by his answer.
"he... actually isnt so bothersome when he sleeps. Which is weird, considering how annoying he is when he's awake."
You throw your head back and laugh;the sound so refreshing in the silence of the morning. Zoro takes a sip of his tea,and leans on his forearms next to where you're currently sitting on the counter.
"why are you up so early?"
You shrug and tilt your head toward the window.
"the weather was too nice to sleep in."
"is that so?"
You close your eyes when the skies clears again and the rays of the sunshine warm your face.
"yeah."
You two bask in each others' presence;no need for any words,just enjoying the silence. The tea finishes soon,and with warm belly,you eyelids start to droop again.
"sleepy?"
When you open your eyes,you see Zoro's face inches away from yours;having you caged between his arms. You lean forward and rest your forehead against his, smiling when he lowers his head and presses his lips to your neck. You shiver,and wrap your arms around Zoro's neck.
"you know,i always dreamed of kissing my boyfriend on a kitchen counter."
An amused chuckle escapes his lips,and he tilts his head to one side while eyeing your lips; pretending to be confused.
"oh?then I'm afraid you'll have to teach me how to do it."
You giggle and pull him closer
"that,can be arranged."
When your lips meet,the morning feels even better. Zoro's lips are soft and move slowly against your own. Its everything you've ever wanted,and even more.
Because of mornings like this,you try to wake up earlier than usual every now and then;so you can have a small alone time with the man you love before everyone else wake up.
When a small sound escapes your lips as he bites your lower lip lightly,Zoro pulls back slightly and rests his forehead against yours.
"you have to keep it down,babe. Don't want other to wake up now,do we?"
And one shake of your head is enough answer for him to dive back in,and capture your lips again.
And you pray to every god you know,that mornings like this last forever.
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danikamariewrites · 8 months
Note
I love your writing so much!!!! Can I ask for Azriel fluff where reader is touch starved and loves skin to skin contact, especially while cuddling/sleeping 🥰
I Just Feel You
Azriel x reader
A/n: this is the cutest thing omg and thank you sm ❤️
Warnings: nudity, fluff
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As you and Azriel got ready for bed you were lost in thought. Holding a shirt you stole from Azriel all you could think about was how you didn’t want to wear it tonight. But you weren’t totally sure if he wanted to sleep naked if it wasn’t after sex. Even then you would throw a sleep shirt on.
Skin to skin contact with Azriel was semi rare. He was still reluctant to let you hold his hand. You want that to change though. You’re a very touchy, cuddly person and your last boyfriend didn’t like that. He’d push you away when you tried to hug him.
You understand why Azriel is reluctant with some things, but he is an affectionate person.
You carefully fold the large, black shirt and place it back in the draw. You head towards the bathroom where Azriel is just finishing up his nightly routine.
Leaning against the door frame you lovingly look up at Azriel. He’s so beautiful. Every time you look at Azriel his stunning features take your breath away.
Without looking away from the mirror above the bathroom sink he smirks at you, “Its rude to stare sweets.” A blush creeps up your cheeks as you quickly look at your feet. Azriel’s near silent footsteps slowly make their way to you.
Scarred fingers gently caress your chin as Azriel tilts your face up. He smiles at you, those hazel eyes sparkling in the fae light like hidden gems. His shadows brush through your hair and run down your arms, calming your heating skin.
“You look like you have something to ask me, sweets.” You give him an incredulous smirk, raising an eyebrow at him. “And how would you know that?” You quip back. Azriel give your chin a light squeeze, letting out a small chuckle, “Spymaster, remember?”
“How could I ever forget,” you say sarcastically. “What did you want to ask me sweets?” You lean into Azriel’s touch letting out a deep sigh.
“I just…” you were hesitant to ask him. “You can ask me anything. No judgement, I swear it.” That made you feel better already.
“Can we cuddle tonight?” Azriel’s smile widened, “Of course. I’ll always hold you when you want y/n. Is that all you wanted?” “Well yeah, but I have another request.” Azriel nodded for you to go on.
“I like skin to skin. It’s a nice feeling, to be secure and stuff,” you continue to babble but Azriel silences you with a kiss. “I know it’s hard for me to show affection but I swear to you I’m working on being better. And if this helps you, I’m happy to do it.”
You and Azriel stripped, leaving you just in your underwear. Climbing under the covers Azriel pulled you to his bare chest, wrapping an arm and wing around you.
He felt soft and warm. For the first time you felt Azriel’s hands gently roam your body. You could tell he was unsure because of his scars. But you didn’t tense or shy away from his touch. If anything it comforted you.
You wrap one arm around his neck while your free hand traces his Illyrian tattoos. As your eyelids droop your movements become slower and slower.
“G’night Az,” you mumble into his neck. “Goodnight sweets. Sweet dreams.” Azriel kisses your forehead, watching you drift off.
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mx-monster · 2 months
Text
I have a lot of Horny Thoughts about the incubus. It’s such a cliche and so overdone but it’s just so hot. MM, corruption/virginity kink, a leetle dubcon, nsfw maybe one day it’ll become a full story but for now just enjoy my horny rambling
The son of a fire and brimstone preacher has been homeschooled all his life, with little interaction with anyone outside the church his father preaches at.
The church he’ll one day preach at.
He has a girlfriend but they’re waiting until marriage to kiss. He doesn’t understand why his peers are having such a hard time abstaining from the sins of the flesh. It’s easy for him. He’s never even watched porn. And aside from night time expulsions, he’s never had a proper orgasm.
He’s exactly everything he’s supposed to be. Free from sin. Free from failure.
Until the dreams start.
He feels weight on his chest. Something was laying on top of him. He blinked his eyes open only to have his breath stolen by a pair of brilliant gold eyes. The strangeness of the eyes didn’t stop with the color of the iris. Where the whites of the eyes were supposed to be, there was inky black. And instead of roundness the pupils were thin, vertical slits.
The eyes of a snake.
Of a demon.
He was in his bed with a demon sprawled out on top of him.
It had to be a demon. The creature had blue skin and a pair of horns that sprouted from its long, inky black hair. And yet, despite its alieness, he could not look away from the sharp angles and planes of the creatures face. So enraptured by the creature, he didn’t notice it begin to grind its sex into his own clothed cock until a wicked heat sparked deep in his belly.
“I see you’ve noticed my gift, sweet one,” the demon purred. And God that voice, “I’ve been blessed with two cocks. Do they feel good?”
Yes, they did, he loathed to admit. Bolts of electric pleasure sparked underneath his skin with every roll of the demons hips.
It was just a dream he could have this in his dreams
The sound of his own wrecked whimper broke him out of his lust induced haze.
“Get off me,” he snarled, scrambling out from underneath the demon. As the demon sat back on its haunches, the covers fell away revealing the demon in all its naked glory. Blue skin that stretched over lean muscle. Elaborate gold tattoos adorned the demons arms, torso, and legs. He traced the intricate patterns with his eyes until his gaze fell to the two thick cocks that stood at attention between its muscular thighs.
The demon gave him a pacifying, nearly condescending, smile.
“Don’t worry, sweet one. I have no plans on forcing myself on you. That defeats the purpose. I plan on taking my time with you. To truly savor you. A meal like you is rare nowadays,” the demon reached out a clawed hand, tracing the preachers sons jaw with a long, black talon, “I’ll take you in my mouth first. And then you’ll take mine into yours. I’ll press your face into the pillow while rut into that virginal hole of yours and then I’ll turn you over and lavish myself on your cock until I’ve had my fill. I’ll have you in front of God and you’ll cry tears of ecstasy. But not until you want it. Until you’re crying for it.”
“I’ll never want it.” The preachers son growled through clenched teeth. Heart beating wildly with rage and perverse desire.
The demon’s golden gaze flitted down to the tent in his sweat pants. A grin bloomed on it’s face, revealing a mouth full of pointed teeth, “we’ll see about that.”
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kissitbttr · 1 month
Text
a sweet moment of frat!miguel and muñeca that we rarely get to see
to miguel, relationships are complex.
he’s not built for one and never meant to. the idea of having to commit to one person when he still wants to have fun sounds like a real torture. the constant clinging and demands of going out on dates just enough to make him scowl. like what’s the point of it all? spending money on gifts or valentines dates just seem to be a waste of time.
until she entered the picture. gone were the days where his money were spent on booze and gears.
now, he’s having the ultimate pleasure of spoiling his girlfriend, walking her to classes, stay during cheerleading practice and begging her to stay over at the frat house. all that he did out of consciousness,
even curating the image of what their wedding would look like in the future.
yeah. that much.
the couple decides to have a small picnic at the campus park during their free period. whereas the rest of the students are busy with studying and walking from building to building, these two lovers find the spare time to be with each other.
“i love hibiscus flowers. they’re pretty” muñeca mentions, laying on her side with palm supporting the head. “sunflowers too—much better than a rose”
miguel fixes himself a smile upon his beautiful girlfriend, deciding to mirror her action by laying on his side as well. “how abouut cake flavor, cariño?”
she looks over at him and the sight is making her drool. the shirt that he’s sporting compliments his rippling muscles, not to mention the few unbuttons at the top showcasing a bit of his chest hair and gold chain around the neck.
“are you going somewhere with this?” she questions with a smile, seeing him shrug,
“just asking” he replies, eyes staring intently into hers. “i want to know what my girl likes—because if she mentions vanilla then i’m out”
muñeca giggles, head shaking at the ridiculous assumption. “i would never!” miguel grins even wider hearing the sound of that laugh. “i love red velvet—and anything fruit infused desserts”
he nods, making a mental note on that one. “what if I prefer chocolates?”
“then we can have both” she answers casually, hand sneaking through its way towards the slope of his calloused one. “chocolates and raspberries are good combo, anyway—not white or milk chocolates though. dark is the way”
“that’s my girl” miguel praises, his thumb drawing circles around her skin. “i love this dress on you, by the way—wear it often”
“you say that pretty much about everything i wear miggy!” she smiles, kissing his jaw. “you’re biased”
“is it my fault that my girlfriend looks good in everything?” he asks as if he’s proving his innocence, tightening the hold of his hand around hers, “got the prettiest girl on campus by my side and there’s no way i’m missing the chance to let her know how hot she is”
her cheeks warm at the compliment, looking down momentarily to hide the large grin that’s threatening to break through, “you just want to fuck me” it’s a joke,
“is it working?” he jokes back with a raised eyebrow, earning himself a punch on the shoulder making him grunt and laugh, “caray, ma!—you sure got some strength in you”
“thanks to my handsome linebacker’s workout routine” she winks, curling a loose hair around his forehead,
“put me in a headlock next, i beg of you” he says, and she can’t tell if he’s really joking or serious but she wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter,
“ugh! you’re so unserious sometimes!”
they both share a laugh after. “okay back to question number—five!” he picks a chocolate covered strawberry with his free hand off the plate and pop it in his mouth. “dream destination?”
her lips curl into a thinking mode and so are her eyebrows, clutching their interlocked hand against her chest. “hmm—bali, malaysia, and rome”
miguel hums, nodding as he looks down. she tilts her head to the side with confusion written all over her face, watching him. “what is this, intervention?”
“what, no. can’t a guy ask his girl a few things to get to know her better?”
“miggy, we fuck at least three times a day, i think we already went past that kind of formalities” she rolls her eyes playfully, seeing how he shrugs innocently and grin. “so? what is this about? first it was about my favorite decorations, second it’s about my favorite dish and drinks of choice and then third, and fourth—“ she trails off, watching the shy smile on his face appears as he avoids her gaze,
“what?” she asks confused, yet his smile is contagious and that makes her smile too,
“just thinking about how everything would look like for our wedding someday”
“a wedding?”
“y-yeah” he scratches the back of his neck nervously, “i’m making notes, you know? i trust them all with you, muñeca—want you to handle everything”
her heart somehow blooms in her chest, gaze softening when he mentions about marriage. tying a knot. living happily ever after. with her.
she feels the little girl inside of her is squealing at the thought of a prince charming asking her for a hand. like ones she read on fairy tales and bedtime stories.
he wants to marry her
upon hearing no response, he feels the embarrassment creeping in as he gulps, his hand trembling slightly at the thought of being rejected. he would probably cry if she told him that she doesn’t see the future together.
“look you don’t—“
“baby” she coos, her hand moving to cup his face. “you want to marry me?”
he feels somehow at ease when he hears the tone of her voice, realizing that he may not look like an eager idiot whom he thought he’d be in front of her, “i do” his response is firm and set. “do you?”
the way he’s looking at her with hopeful eyes makes her wish that they’re both alone right now, just so she could straddle his lap and smother him with kisses. but seeing that they’re not and at a public space, especially on campus, she’s holding herself back.
instead of that, she cups his face before leaning in for a kiss. miguel sighs into her mouth, kissing her back with much more passion as he snakes a hand around her waist. the kiss is somehow becoming more intense and hungry. he then moves himself to move on top of her in swift motion, making her giggle at his enthusiasm.
what’s supposed to be a simple kiss, turns into a heavy makeout session. she squeezes both his shoulders as a gesture to take it easy, not wanting the head of security to catch them in the act. again.
miguel huffs when she pulls away, but the taste of her lips remains to be the reason why a lovesick smile attached on his features.
“of course i do” she replies, “just make sure that the ring is ready after we graduate, o’hara” and miguel will hold onto that. he will buy the most expensive and prettiest ring ever for her.
she swears that the love she has for him is bigger than anything. he had changed a lot for the better and she couldn’t be more proud. miguel had learned so many things during the times he had shared with her, and it would be so crazy to think that she didn’t bring any positive impact in his life.
her existence is the key of him growing. not just love but as a person as well. and he would argue to hell and back with anyone just to prove the point of his gratitude to her will always be bigger than this girl,
none of these two lovers knew what fate had in stored for them. to have a committed relationship with someone wasn’t in either’s bucket list, let alone getting married. but everything seems to have changed.
before this, they didn’t even know each other. there had been a time where miguel didn’t know muñeca exist and vice versa. and there’s some sort of twinge rattle in his chest, knowing that someone else could be loving her instead of him.
he doesn’t like that. at all.
the negative thought that plagued into his mind somehow gets pulled when he feels her soft padded thumb traces his lower lip. his pupils dilating when he looks at her, with the pretty smile that he never gets tired of. seeing that often makes his heart fail to find a steady rhythm.
gaze in her eyes speaks so kindly to him. a look in which helps to remind him that she belongs to him and so does he to her. and miguel finds himself exhale a breath of relief yet once again.
‘she is so unbelievably gorgeous and all mine’
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songbirdseung · 1 month
Text
hold your peace / lee heeseung
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synopsis: watching the one you love being wedded to someone else.
pairing: ex-lovers heeseung and reader
warning: sadness and then sadness and then more sadness, fluff at the end, i promise.
wc: 2k
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In the heart of a quaint town nestled amidst rolling hills and whispering trees stood a venerable old church, its weathered stones bearing the weight of centuries of prayers and whispered confessions. Within its hallowed halls, amidst the flickering candlelight and the solemn hymns, YN found herself seated in one of the wooden pews, her gaze fixed upon the altar where Heeseung, her once-beloved, stood exchanging vows with another.
The echoes of memories danced around her, haunting whispers of a love that once bloomed like the roses in the churchyard, now withered and forgotten. YN's heart ached as she watched Heeseung, his eyes alight with joy as he clasped hands with his bride. How she longed to be the one standing by his side, to feel his touch, to hear his voice whispering sweet nothings in her ear.
The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the quiet park where Heeseung and YN sat side by side on a weathered bench, their laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves overhead. They were just teenagers then, their hearts as untamed as the wind that swept through the trees, yet already they knew that their bond was something rare and precious. Heeseung's hand brushed against YN's as they shared stolen glances beneath the fading light, his gaze soft and earnest as he spoke. "You know, YN, I've been thinking…" "What is it, Heeseung?" YN asked, turning to face him with a curious smile playing upon her lips. "I think… I think we're meant to be each other's end games," Heeseung said, his voice barely above a whisper as if afraid to speak the words aloud. YN's heart skipped a beat at his words, her breath catching in her throat. "End games?" Heeseung nodded, his eyes shining with a determination that belied his tender age. "Yeah, you know, like in those movies we watch. The ones where the two people are meant to be together no matter what happens. That's us, YN. We're each other's end games." A soft smile tugged at YN's lips as she reached out to take Heeseung's hand in hers, their fingers intertwining like vines in a hidden garden. "I like the sound of that, Heeseung. You and me, against the world." Heeseung's grin widened at her words, his heart swelling with a love so fierce it threatened to consume him whole. "And YN, one day… one day, I'm going to marry you. I promise." YN's cheeks flushed with a rosy hue as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against Heeseung's ear. "I'll hold you to that, Heeseung. I'll hold you to that." And in that fleeting moment, beneath the fading light of the setting sun, Heeseung and YN made a vow to each other that would echo through the corridors of time. For they knew that their love was not bound by the constraints of reality but rather by the unyielding force of destiny, guiding them ever closer to their shared end game of forever.
But fate had other plans, tearing them apart like pages ripped from a cherished book. YN's mind wandered back to the days when they first met, a chance encounter in the bustling streets of the town square. Heeseung had been a beacon of light in her dark world, his smile a balm to her wounded soul. They had shared dreams and secrets beneath the stars, promising each other forever in whispered vows of love.
Yet, as swiftly as the seasons changed, so too did their love unravel. Distance and time became their adversaries, tearing at the fragile threads that bound them together. And despite their desperate attempts to cling to what they once had, the inevitable tide of life swept them apart, leaving YN adrift in a sea of loneliness and regret.
Now, as she sat in the quiet sanctuary of the church, YN couldn't help but wonder what could have been. Would they have found their way back to each other if circumstances had been different? Or was their love nothing more than a fleeting moment in the tapestry of time?
As Heeseung stood at the altar, his heart pounding in his chest, his eyes scanned the crowded church until they landed on YN, sitting amidst the congregation. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as he gazed at her, his breath catching in his throat. He hadn't expected to see her there, a haunting reminder of the past he had tried so hard to forget.
A wave of sadness washed over Heeseung as he realized that YN was not meant to be a guest at this wedding but rather the bride by his side. His mother's fondness for YN had prompted the invitation, a gesture of kindness that now felt like a cruel twist of fate.
Heeseung's gaze lingered on YN, his mind drifting back to the days when they had dreamed of a future together, promising each other forever beneath the stars. How different things might have been if they had stayed true to those vows, if he had been brave enough to defy the odds and follow his heart.
But now, as he stood on the precipice of a new beginning, Heeseung knew that he had to let go of the past and embrace the future that lay before him. With a heavy sigh, he tore his gaze away from YN and forced himself to focus on the ceremony unfolding before him.
Just as he began to regain his composure, the priest cleared his throat, drawing Heeseung's attention back to the present. He offered a sheepish apology, blaming his momentary lapse in concentration on nerves.
The priest chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Ah, young love. It has a way of making even the bravest among us tremble with fear. But fear not, my son. For love conquers all, even nerves on a wedding day."
Heeseung managed a weak smile in response, grateful for the priest's lighthearted jest. But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had just witnessed a glimpse of the life he could have had with YN, a life that now existed only in the shadows of his memories. YN's heart clenched at the sight, tears shimmering in her eyes like pearls in the morning dew. She knew then that she had lost him forever, condemned to forever be a silent observer in the theater of his life.
As the ceremony continued, YN found herself overcome with a flood of emotions, tears welling up in her eyes like raindrops on a stormy night. She tried to blink them away, to hide the ache in her heart behind a veil of smiles, but the weight of her unspoken sorrow threatened to consume her.
To those around her, it seemed as though YN was shedding tears of joy, her emotions overflowing at the sight of her dear friend finding happiness. But Heeseung's mother, seated beside her, knew the truth behind those glistening tears. With a gentle understanding born of a mother's intuition, she reached out and pulled YN into a tender side hug, offering silent comfort in her time of need.
YN leaned into the embrace, grateful for the warmth and compassion of Heeseung's mother. In that moment, she felt a sense of solace amidst the turmoil of her emotions, knowing that she was not alone in her silent grief.
Across the aisle, Heeseung couldn't help but steal a glance at YN, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks. He longed to reach out to her, to wipe away her tears and whisper words of reassurance, but he knew that he had no right to intrude upon her pain.
While Heeseung's heart was torn between the past and the present, his bride, unaware of the turmoil within him, cast a sidelong glance in his direction, her brow furrowed with concern. She had noticed his momentary lapse in focus, his gaze lingering on someone in the crowd, and it stirred a flicker of annoyance within her.
As the ceremony progressed, she leaned in close to Heeseung, her voice a hushed whisper against his ear. "Is everything alright, Heeseung? You seem distracted."
Heeseung forced a smile, his mind still lingering on YN and the memories they had shared. "I'm fine. Just lost in the moment, that's all."
As the priest's solemn voice echoed through the hallowed halls of the church, announcing the pivotal moment in the ceremony, a heavy silence descended upon the congregation.
Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
All eyes turned towards the altar, anticipation hanging thick in the air like the scent of incense. Heeseung's heart pounded in his chest as he glanced back and forth between YN and his bride, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. In that fleeting moment, he felt the weight of a thousand regrets pressing down upon him, each one urging him to speak the words that had been left unspoken for far too long.
Just as the priest was about to continue, his lips parting to recite the sacred vows that would bind Heeseung and his bride together for eternity, Heeseung's voice rang out, clear and resolute in the silence.
"I… I have something to say."
The congregation held its breath as Heeseung took a step forward, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat. His eyes locked with YN's, a silent plea lingering in their depths, begging for understanding.
"I… I cannot continue with this marriage," Heeseung declared, his voice trembling with emotion. "I cannot pledge my life to someone when my heart belongs to another."
Gasps of shock rippled through the church as Heeseung's confession hung in the air like a heavy fog. His bride's eyes widened in disbelief, her hand flying to her mouth in a gesture of stunned silence.
But amidst the chaos, amidst the whispers and the murmurs of disbelief, YN remained perfectly still, her gaze locked with Heeseung's, a single tear shimmering in the corner of her eye.
For in that moment, she knew that the love they had shared had never truly died, that the bond between them was stronger than the vows spoken in haste and the promises made in vain. And as Heeseung stepped down from the altar and made his way towards her, his heart laid bare for all to see, YN reached out and took his hand in hers, silently promising to stand by his side through whatever trials lay ahead.
As Heeseung's supposed bride's voice rose in a crescendo of anger and disbelief, her words cutting through the air like a knife, Heeseung's family remained steadfast in their support. His parents, sibling, and relatives stood by his side, their expressions a mixture of determination and defiance in the face of opposition.
Heeseung's supposed father-in-law joined the chorus of protests, his voice booming with indignation as he demanded an explanation for this sudden betrayal. But Heeseung's family remained unmoved, their loyalty unwavering as they stood united in their belief that love should never be sacrificed on the altar of convention.
"You can't do this, Heeseung! You made a commitment to me!" she cried, her voice cracking with emotion as she struggled to comprehend the sudden turn of events.
Heeseung's supposed father-in-law joined in the fray, his face flushed with rage as he pointed an accusatory finger at Heeseung. "You're making a grave mistake, boy! You'll regret this for the rest of your life!"
But amidst the cacophony of voices, Heeseung remained steadfast, his gaze fixed upon YN, his heart unyielding in its resolve. As he reached her side, he took her hand in his, his touch gentle yet firm.
"I'm sorry, YN," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he turned to face her. "I couldn't go through with it. Not when my heart belongs to you."
YN's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked up at Heeseung, her heart swelling with a mixture of love and gratitude. "I understand, Heeseung. And I'm here for you, no matter what."
Amidst the chaos, Heeseung's mother stepped forward, her voice calm yet firm as she addressed the gathering. "Love cannot be forced, nor can it be contained within the confines of tradition. Our son has made his choice, and we stand by him, regardless of the consequences."
Heeseung's father nodded in agreement, his gaze steady as he met the accusing stares of those who questioned their decision. "We raised our son to follow his heart, to be true to himself above all else. And if his heart leads him to YN, then so be it."
Heeseung's supposed bride's protests faltered in the face of such unwavering conviction. With a final glare directed at Heeseung and YN, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the church, her dreams of a fairytale wedding shattered by the harsh reality of love's unpredictable whims.
As the dust settled and the echoes of the confrontation faded away, Heeseung stood beside YN, his hand clasped tightly in hers, a sense of peace washing over him like a gentle breeze. For in that moment, surrounded by the love and support of his family, he knew that he had made the right choice, that true love was worth any sacrifice, no matter how great.
And as they walked out of the church together, hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, Heeseung and YN knew that their love was a force to be reckoned with, a bond that could withstand even the harshest storms. For in the end, love always finds a way, lighting the path towards a future filled with hope, promise, and the sweetest kind of redemption.
For sometimes, love is not measured by the grand gestures or the elaborate ceremonies, but by the courage to speak the truth and follow the heart's deepest desires, no matter the cost. And in the quiet sanctuary of the church, amidst the echoes of a love that refused to be silenced, Heeseung and YN found their own happily ever after, bound together by the timeless threads of fate and the unyielding power of true love.
As the dust settled and the echoes of the confrontation faded away, Heeseung and YN found themselves standing outside the church, the cool breeze of the evening wrapping around them like a comforting embrace. They turned to each other, their eyes locking in a silent exchange of understanding and gratitude.
Heeseung was the first to speak, his voice filled with emotion as he reached out to cup YN's cheek tenderly. "You remember what I told you, right? That I'd marry you and only you."
A soft smile tugged at the corners of YN's lips as she leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with affection. "Yeah, I remember. You almost did, didn't you?"
Heeseung's expression softened as he shook his head, his eyes glistening with sincerity. "It wasn't by choice, YN. You know that. I never wanted to hurt you."
YN reached out and took Heeseung's hand in hers, squeezing it gently as she met his gaze with unwavering understanding. "I know, Heeseung. And I'm not blaming you. Sometimes life just has a way of throwing us curveballs."
Heeseung nodded, a sense of relief washing over him as he realized that YN harbored no ill will towards him. "I'm just glad you're here, YN. With me."
YN's smile widened as she leaned in closer, pressing a tender kiss to Heeseung's lips. "Me too, Heeseung. Me too."
And as they stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, Heeseung and YN knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, hand in hand, united in their love and their unwavering commitment to each other. For in the end, their bond was stronger than any obstacle, a beacon of hope and resilience in a world filled with uncertainty.
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freyarabbit · 4 months
Text
°•"𝐷𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑦 𝑫𝒐𝒍𝒍"❥
♡[Small titty reader, nsfw✞, no verbal consent but mutual desire, somnophilia, mentions of bullying, insecurity]♡
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Megumi opened his eyes, waking up in the middle of the night again. This had become a common occurrence for a long time now, so he supposed he could say he was used to it.
His senses sharpened as he realized that you weren't next to him, having drifted away from him in your sleep, sleeping sideways, your back turned towards him. That must've been why he'd woken up, because you weren't near him, he thought to himself.
This was so annoying but so damn cute at the same time, how your little body moved on its own like this.
He reached out for you, gently gripping your arms as he pulled you back towards him. As expected, you didn't wake up. You must've been exhausted.
His eyes lowered, noticing your loose nightgown having slid up to your waist, giving him a view of your sweet panties. The failure of a nightgown didn't cover up more than half of your chest either. Your cute little tits.
Something came over him, his body heating up. He hands grazed over the flesh of your thighs, before making their way up your dress. His fingertips brushed over your hard nipples, as he began massaging them, earning quiet sighs from you.
He couldn't wait till you woke up, and looked at him with that one expression of yours. When you're embarrassed but turned on at the same time.
Not long after, your lashes fluttered open, startled at the sight of finding your boyfriend basically caging you as he gave wet kisses to your pathetic little breasts.
"M-megumi- what are you...."
There it was, the face he was waiting for you to make.
"Sorry baby, I got a little impatient, hope you don't mind."
He spoke so casually, looking down at you with his rare smile, as you took the chance to wrap your arms around your chest. Avoiding eye contact with him. You felt so embarrassed that he'd been staring and touching them for so long, maybe he thought they were ugly, maybe it made you less attractive, maybe it made you look like less of a woman.
All your maybes were interrupted by his voice, as he asked
"Why are you doing that?"
"...doing what...?"
"Why are you covering them up from me?"
"I just....don't like them..."
He paused, giving you a slightly confused and a little irritated look, before replying
"But I sure do."
You went quiet, heat rushing to your cheeks, having a hard time comprehending what he just said.
"So, let me show you how much I like them, okay?"
He swiftly pulled down your panties, discarding them somewhere in the dark room so that they could only be found by you in the morning. Aligning his pulsating dick with your pussy's puny little hole, pushing in mercilessly into your wet heat, he put his attention back to your cute little chest.
He sucked on them, kissed them, bit them, even slid his tongue across them and what not, while all you did was let out pretty little cries, and whimpers, clearly overstimulated as both your pussy and your tits received his undying attention.
You'd always been teased for the size of your chest by other girls, who you believed to be more beautiful just because they had more fat in their chest and by boys, who made fun of you, saying that having a pretty face wasn't enough. But right now, your boyfriend seems to be obsessed with their size, so...was this a dream? No, not with the pleasure you felt right now.
He felt so good right now.
Fucking you felt like fucking a tight little doll, his doll.
And your small boobs only contributed more to this thought of his.
The way you'd begun mewling in that way you always do, he knew you were at your climax. Which was perfect timing because so was he.
Pulling out quickly as he came, he spilled his cum all over your tits.
The view of your fucked out face with your adorable little titties drenched in his cum, stained with his red bite marks and purple hickeys, was a permanent image in his mind from now on, which he was sure he'd get off to the thought of whenever he was away from you.
As you managed to catch your breath again, you spoke up
"Megumi...you really like them...?"
"You're so fucking cute."
He took his shirt off, using it to wipe his cum and spit off of your breasts, discarding it to the side once he was done, before sliding your night gown back down, and pulling you into a tight hug, so that you don't move away from him during the rest of the night.
"Goodnight, I love you"
"Love you too, M'gumi"
He fell asleep instantly.
You smiled, leaning into his embrace before beginning to drift away as well.
Being small felt so good for once...
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llondonfog · 8 months
Note
Wailing about “you love me so you’ll love my child” but w melleanor and silver
"—and do not let Vanrouge within twenty meters of the kitchens, is that clear, Counselor? Inform the kitchen staff that they have my exact permission to maim him on sight with the nearest sharp object. Oh, do not duck your face like a quivering kitten as if I cannot see that grimace, Counselor— that man has survived much worse and scraped through with life and limb and still persists to terrorize us all with his presence, isn't that right, my dear one?"
From within her arms, Lilia's child coos and babbles something far more intelligent than her trailing, fretful advisors back at her, and she taps a dark painted talon delicately against its plush cheek in fond agreement.
Lilia's child.
Meleanor rolls the words silently within her mouth, holds them there to taste the strange, but pleasant, flavor of their meaning.
Of all the fae in all their lands, who would have ever dared to dream that Lilia Vanrouge would take to a child like a fish to water, or a fledgling to the skies?
She can still hear him now, grumbling and griping so about the burden of children, their helplessness and neediness as unnecessarily weak creatures. In a rare form of mercy, not once did she pry— for how could she, when she knew the answer even if it was not in specifics? When fae were perishing at the hands of humankind's avaricious cruelty, how could she dare chastise him when she was so certain that Lilia's bitterness only existed towards himself?
Her hypothesis had been proven correct when her most trusted General had been present for Malleus' hatching, a softness that she had only seen once before smoothing the harsh lines of his battle-weary gaze. Perhaps she had the right of bias; it was only correct that anyone melt at the sight of her darling son, chirping and mewling miniature fonts of emerald flame.
But that softness had reappeared tenfold when Lilia had knelt before her in the privacy of her chambers where no other fae save for two were ever allowed, revealing the swaddled contents of his cloak with a desperate, fervent need for approval.
He woke for me, she remembers her oldest friend confessing in a voice choked with awe and an emotion that had nearly frightened her (her!) with its intensity. Meleanor, do you understand what this means? He is the son of our enemy, lost and forgotten by time, and he woke for me.
Oh, she had understood as perfectly then as she does now. It was for that reason alone that she had stayed her hand from where it had been readied to smite the child from Lilia's arms, to strip it from existence out of fear that it had somehow bewitched the one fae with more reason to detest humanity than all the rest.
True love was so rare in this world; it had taken her centuries to find her heart's desire. How could she wrest that from Lilia, as he kneels before her and bares his soul, staring down at the sleeping infant cradled in his arms with a delicate strength she did not know him to possess and the dazed look of a parent struck with the dazzling knowledge that the child they hold is more perfect than any creature alive on the earth?
She could not— the proof of which rests in her arms and happily teethes on strands of her gleaming hair, warm and soft and heavy in the sweet way of babes.
"And that is why we cannot allow your pathetic wretch of a father to ruin the celebration of your first blessing, isn't that right— Silver?"
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luciferlightbringer · 3 months
Text
Talk to Me
Chapter 1
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Lucifer x Fem Fallen Angel Reader
Word Count:4.1 k
CW: Angst, abuse, lies, slowburn,
Chapter 1|Chapter 2 (Updated through Chapter 5)
Welcome back friends! I will be tagging all chapters now under #punching-pentagrams if the tags ever have issues or if you are looking for updates from me 😊
Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a troublemaker with “fantastical ideas” for all of creation, and was seen as such by the elders of Heaven. For they knew his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So, he was to watch as the other angels began to expand the universe in their ways.
From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Adam worked to take charge over his responsibility to care for Earth, and Lilith refused to work alongside him. She fled the Garden. Drawn in by her rebellious nature, Lucifer found her and troublemaker seduced her to his cause. Together, they wished to the ruin the future of humanity with their selfish dreams and ideas, offering the Fruit of Knowledge to Adam's new bride, Eve, who accepted, unaware that this “gift” came with a curse. For with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into the Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his mistress into the dark pit he had created, to live out his days as the King of the cruel and the wicked.
This was the Parable of Lucifer, known by every Angel in Heaven, memorized, but rarely spoken. His name, or even the threat of falling was akin to swearing, which wasn't forbidden but it was frowned upon. For many eons, his name was rarely mentioned. That is, until the morning his daughter came to visit Heaven.
You watched that morning as Emily, the young seraphim you served under, danced around her room as she got ready that morning, singing and flitting about while talking about how excited she was to be at the the side of Sera, the High Seraphim, later at a meeting with the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith.
You listened and nodded at her excitement, trying hard to keep your own thoughts to yourself. You didn't understand how she could be so excited, being in the room with anyone related to Lucifer sounded like a fate worse than death. You were not important enough to be in the room where it all was going to go down, and you were perfectly ok with that.
"And then! Oh! What about the zoo?! Do you think they have zoos in hell? Maybe we have different animals.... Oh I'll just ask them!" Emily squealed with excitement as she brushed her hair.
You were trying so hard not to roll your eyes, why would some hellspawn want anything to do with a heaven zoo? And why did Emily insist on showing them around? It almost seemed cruel to show them around something more wonderful and beautiful than they probably had back home in their dark pit of evil. But it couldn't be helped, that is just who Emily was. Kind and full of desire to make people happy.
You were a "right hand man" of sorts to Emily, a sort of "lady in waiting" or "aid", and had been ever since the beginning of her time as the Seraphim of Joy. You enjoyed a higher status, that was marked by your four wings, but not as many as Emily's six, which marker he status as a seraphim. You liked being by her side, she was sweet and playful. It was her job to keep the people of Heaven happy, and it was your job to assist her in that. She was gentle and kind, and that made your job easy. She treated you as an equal, even if she didn't need to, you were happy to serve her.
"Sounds great, my lady, I hope you guys have fun," you say trying to hold back any sass you wanted to add to your comment in response to the idea of her field trip with the Princess of Hell.
Emily looked at you with a smile, "Oh! You're coming with us, of course. Aren't you?"
You held a strained smile, of course she would want to include you.
"Oh... I wish I could. But I can't I have plans," you responded coolly.
"Plans? Like what?" Emily pouted.
"Well... there uhhh... there is the updates to the Golden Girls theme park! Now that Betty is here, I figured it was important to meet with her and make sure it is correct...ya know... get her ideas..." you start.
Emily floats over and grabs your hands, "Oh but that can wait, can't it? Pleeeeease? This is so exciting and I want my best friend their with me!" She gave you big puppy dog eyes.
You can't help but feel a little shy when she calls you her best friend, you were honored that she thought of you as a friend, but you knew that was not your place, even though you had been by her side for several thousand years. It wasn't forbidden for you two to be friends, just... discouraged. Due to the difference in status. You sighed, she knew you couldn't say no to her when she got all pouty and pulled the "best friend" card.
"Alright, alright! I'll go... Just... Please don't expect me to be all buddy-buddy with them? I mean no disrespect, my lady... The idea of having beings of Hell in Heaven just... makes me nervous..." you nervously confess to Emily.
Emily smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "Yay! Oh (y/n), it's going to be ok! How about this? If you get uncomfortable, you can flap your wings quickly twice and I'll give you a reason to leave, ok?"
"But won't that leave you alone with them? What if they should try to harm you?" you say with worry in your voice.
Emily squeezes your shoulders, "It will be fine. Come on! We are gonna be late!" Emily grabs your hand and she half drags you out the door and out the the main plaza to meet up with Sera before going to welcome the guests from hell. You bow respectfully to Sera in greeting and wait as Emily and Sera fly out to the front gate while you wait inside with Sera's aid, Lily, who also had four wings like you. You rarely talked to Lily, but she was also nice, more serious like her seraphim she served.
"How is your lady feeling about the meeting?" Lily asked calmly, looking forward instead of at you.
"Very excitedly, as is her nature. Almost a little too excited, but that is not my place to tell her, of course. And what of your lady?" You asked Lily.
She shook her head, "Nervous, but collected. She was very distressed by Lucifer's request for his daughter to meet with the council of Elders. Her ideas sound... preposterous, and dangerous. Just like her father's," she responded flatly, her nose crinkling slightly.
"What ideas?" you ask.
Lily looked around for any nearby souls before leaning close and whisper, "Something about trying to redeem souls to get them to give them a second change in heaven."
You blinked, what? She is trying to redeem the souls of sinners? "Is that even possible?"
Lily shrugged, "It is not our place to ask such things, besides, we have no idea why they would want to try that. It sounds fishy to me, and I think it sounds fishy to Sera, too. We have a system in place for a reason."
"Of course, that does seem silly to try to change things," you go back to your neutral stance and start to think. The daughter of Lucifer wants to redeem souls? Why? That seems like a good thing to try to do? But how could they prove they were actually "redeemed" to even attempt something like that. As far as you knew, this had never been done before. This thought left you with so many questions, that from that point on would start to unravel your very understanding of everything you thought you knew.
Eventually you see the gates open and Sera and Emily enter with two others, a girl with long white hair, wearing an eye patch, named Vaggie, and a young woman with long blonde hair in a ponytail and a red suit, who was introduced to you as Charlie Morningstar, the daughter of Lucifer. You wanted to focus on the Morningstar child but... something about the other one seemed off about the other one, especially in the way she looked at all of you. Specifically she looked... uncomfortable? That seemed like such an odd way to react to Heaven. But maybe a place this beautiful was just hard for a demon like her to feel comfortable in. A pity.
You shifted your attention back to Charlie, you were only briefly introduced as Emily's aid, she greeted you warmly and then went back to talking with Emily and Sera. You liked it this way, it gave you a chance to just watch this daughter of Lucifer at a distance. As you toured Heaven with them, you were surprise by how sweet and bubbly she came off. She talked, mostly with Emily, about how excited she was about the meeting and looked in awe at everything she came across in Heaven. Your face remained a pleasant neutral, but you were processing everything through the lens of what you had been told about Lucifer and the information given to you by Lily about her reason for being here. What was her deal?
Eventually, Charlie and Vaggie were set up in their room, and Vaggie decided to stay at the hotel while Charlie went off with you and Emily to the zoo, and Sera and Lily went off to prepare for the meeting. Great... now there was more of a chance that you would have to interact with the Morningstar child, but you were good at remaining pleasant and neutral. You stayed to Emily's right while Charlie walked on Emily's left as they went through the zoo. Luckily, the Princess of Hell was more interested in fawning over the animals than paying attention to how little you were interacting with her. You exchanged some pleasantries and small talk when addressed, but not much beyond that.
The longer you were around her, the more curious she made you. She didn't act at all like how you expected a hellspawn would act. You know you shouldn't be making assumptions but... something was not adding up. How could this be the spawn of the most hated and dangerous being in all of creation? Either she was a very very very good actor, spinning colorful and exciting tales to disarm her victims and seduce them to her side... or somehow... despite having such an awful and cruel creature of a father... this young woman had an actual passion and love for others. You were worried at how much you felt like you wanted to agree with the latter, especially with how in-sync her personality fell with Emily's. You tried to shake the questions out of your head, again it was not your place to ask such questions.
Before long, it was time for their meeting with the angelic Council of Elders, which meant it was your time to separate from Emily and the Princess. You bid them a farewell and went off to take care of that meeting with Betty White to make any additions or suggestions to the theme park. You had a pleasant meeting with her, luckily there were only a few additions that needed to be made, so you were able make note of them with the construction team and get back to Emily's suite to prepare her some tea for her when her meeting was over.
Before long you heard the quick open and shut of the door, signaling that Emily had returned home, "Welcome back, my lady Emily! How was..." you stopped as you heard the sounds of... something you had never heard before... little sounds in quick secession that would get quieter, she'd breathe in, and then the quick secession of sounds would happen again, but starting louder and growing softer.
You peaked out around the corner to see Emily curled up on the floor right next to the door, face in her hands, making her little sounds. You had heard about this, was... was she... crying? She had never seen anyone cry before. You rushed over to her side.
"My lady? Emily? What's wrong? Why do you cry?" you asked with a slight panic, you had not idea how to help her with this, you had never seen someone sad before.
She let out different higher pitched sound and shook before she looked up at you, tears rolling down her round cheeks.
"Oh (y/n), it's terrible! I'm so angry!" Emily cried.
"What's terrible? What did the Princess do? Are you hurt?" you start to look her over.
"No!" Emily cried, "It's Sera, and Adam, and Lute... They have done something terrible!"
You blinked, you had never heard her speak of her superior sister like that, and you new the First Man to be... a colorful character, but what could he have done? "What happened?"
Emily took a few breathes before looking up at you, "They have been allowing a yearly extermination on human souls in Hell to control the overpopulation down there... Adam has an army of angels that go down with him to kill and erase human souls!"
You sat back a little, taking in the news, "Wait... why... That does not make any sense... why would they do something like that?"
Emily let more tears fall, "It's how they control the overpopulation of souls, trying to keep them from thinking about uprising against Heaven... that's why Charlie was here. She's trying to redeem souls into heaven so that we would stop killing them. She-she's just trying to protect her people, and we have just been slaughtering them! For... centuries!"
You sat in silence as Emily continued to freak out and cry, this was the worst thing you had ever heard of. How could heaven allow something like this?! Sure, the sinners had all earned their place in Hell, and they needed to stay in their place... but the does not mean anyone should be erasing them!
"Who could have allowed this?" you ask quietly.
"Sera..." Emily snarled, you look up at her, and she looks at you... with anger in her eyes, it made you jump, "Sera allowed this it happen, and what's worse... she kept it from everyone! From the rest of the Elders... from me... Only Sera, Adam, and his army of angel exorcists know... The rest of us were in the dark..."
You just sat there on the floor next to her, trying to breathe, trying to work through the thoughts and feelings in your body, this was bad... this was... really bad. You never knew this try of bad could exist, not here, not in Heaven, and you felt it all over your body. Your chest felt tight, your thoughts were racing, everything was a blur.
You looked at the young angel next to you, "What do we do now, my lady?"
Emily's expression went serious and she sat up straight looking at you, "This can't be a secret anymore, we must tell everyone."
Your eyes widened, "E-everyone? Even the human souls? My lady... I don't know if..."
Emily got up, "Yes! Everyone! They have been keeping this secret from everyone! They are breaking one of God's base commandments! Now that we know we must tell the truth! Everyone must know!"
You get up to meet her, "But... that would cause an upheaval! What if..." you change to a whisper "What if this causes you to fall? Like Lucifer?"
Emily shook her head, "If something like this is what caused his fall... then maybe there is more behind his fall than they told us in the first place..." She looked at you, "After hearing Charlie... it's worth the risk... I need to do this. Are you with me, or not?" Emily grabbed your hands.
You froze in place. Do you defy Emily, your seraphim that you are sworn to serve and support? Or do you go against something that you know will make the elders unhappy, and risk both you and her falling? You knew this look on her face, there was not talking her out of it at this point.
You sigh, "Ok... I'm with you." She smiled and hugged you, and you hugged her back. You had not idea what was going to happen next, but you couldn't bear the thought of not supporting her. It's all you knew.
You spent the rest of the night planning with Emily on how you were going to get the word out to the people. Unfortunately for the both of you... Sera had been worried about Emily's outburst in support of Charlie and went to go check on her. Emily was not watching her volume, no matter how much you reminded her, so before knocking, she was able to hear Emily talking out some ideas out with you. With a heavy and broken heart, Sera went to go alert the rest of the Elders.
The next morning, you and Emily did not have a chance to start telling anyone before Emily was brought to stand trial before the Council of Elders. You were brought with to stand witness for the conversation you had with her. Emily fought and cried, angry tears running down her face as she pleaded for the safety and protection of the people of Hell, quoting how the Elders were breaking commandments. The Elders responded of how they were doing what they needed to do to maintain the order in Heaven, and Emily teared back about how they were only proving Charlie's point about "angel's getting to do whatever and remain in the sky" while the people of hell suffered by Heaven's hand. Sera warned Emily not to press but she didn't care, saying if this was the truth that she no longer wanted to be the Seraphim of Joy.
"If you don't stop this now, you may soon not be a seraphim at all!" one of the Elders warned.
Adam sat over on the side, grinning. He was quieter than yesterday, he was trying to play nice after his major slip up the day before when he revealed the existence of the exterminations, but he was still enjoying watching the drama. Sera looked over to you, eyes pleading with do something to stop this. You looked over at Emily. There was only one way you could see getting her out of this, it wasn't going to be pleasant, but it was all you could do.
You stood up and looked over to the council, starting to cry and shake, "I'm sorry! I'm so... so sorry, my great Elders!" You whole room was looking at your now, even Emily.
"Please... please do not blame her! It was my fault! I... I was so excited to see the Princess of Hell, know why she was here. I know I wasn't allowed at the meeting... but I still stood outside of the door and listened! I couldn't bear the news! I've gone mad! Emily came back and didn't want to talk about it... but I did! I made her! I filled her head with ideas of telling the people of Heaven the truth! The angels deserve to know! It's barbaric! All of you refused to listen to Charlie and I can't stand that!" you say grabbing your hair. "Please! Emily is innocent of everything besides being to close to me! Please spare her! Punish me instead!"
"(y/n) what are you doing?!" Emily cried.
"I'm telling them the truth, my lady! Don't try to cover this up for me. You've suffered enough!" you cried, flying down to the floor and standing in front of Emily, fanning out your wings to block her, "Punish me instead! I should fall for my madness! My lady Emily has done nothing wrong! Punish me for my sympathy for Lucifer and his daughter!"
Sera frowned, looked at the others, and shook her head, "What a shame, but not unexpected from you, unfortunately." That comment almost made you flinch, what did that mean? Sera looked to the others, who all nodded at her and looked at you with distain.
"Very well," she said, lifting a hand to prompt two other angels to remove Emily from the floor, leaving only you in the middle, all eyes on you. "(y/n), for your attempt of treason against Heaven and attempted corruption of a seraphim, you have fallen from Grace and will be cast into Hell."
You give Emily one last look as she screams, whispering a goodbye to her. A portal opens up in front of you, giving you a clear but distant view of the rings of hell. Intense fear flooded your body for the first time. You take a step back, only to be stopped by Adam who had flown over an landed behind you, a wicked grin on his face.
Behind you he whispered "See you on extermination day", before breaking off one of your wings and kicking you into the pit, the sound of your screams of pain mixed with his laughter as you began to fall.
What an absolute piece of shit.
Most of your fall was spent in searing pain from your one missing wing, the other three fluttering in the wind as hell grew closer, golden blood oozing from your new wound, your first wound ever. You cried the whole way... out of pain, out of fear, out of hope that you saved Emily from this fate, out of confusion...
As you got closer, you felt more pain sear through your body, but for a different reason. You watched as you hands stared to turn into black claws, horns sprouted from your temples, a tail lashed out behind you, eyes watering as they changed to red, some of the feathers of your wings burned red. More tears burned down your cheeks as you fell, mixing in with some feelings of... anger? You wish that Emily had not dragged you into this... but it was your job to serve her... and you did it until your falling day... Who knew what awaited you in hell. The second fallen angel in all of history...
You realized then, yes, would would be the second fallen angel, would Lucifer seek you out if he found out another angel had fallen? You wanted to avoid that at all costs. As the ground grew nearer, you knew you had two choices, use your wings to ease your fall and risk being seen, or tuck them away and have a much harder hit but hide your identity as an angel. You swallowed hard as you forced your wings to tuck away. It was something angels could do, but it was not common, as it was more comfortable to keep them out.
You were almost to the red floor of the Pride Ring. God Above, this was going to hurt... You braced yourself as you plummeted into the hard rock of the upper part of the ring, making a small intend in the ground from the length and power of your fall. Your body seared with more intense pain, bones were definitely broken, but by some grace you were still barely conscious.
After catching some amount of breath, you looked around. With as much information as you could process at the moment, it looked like you had landed on some old battle ground near the edge of the ring. At least some luck was still on your side. With one good arm and leg, you clawed and crawled your way across the red brimstone ground, leaving a trail of golden blood, before finding a pile of stones that were set in just a way that you could hide. Probably something someone had built for cover at some point.
With the last of your energy, you crawled into the hole, took off your robe, and stuffed it under your head as your felt yourself suck into unconsciousness.
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Hello! Just wanted to let everyone know that this one will have less of a back and forth between Lucifer and y/n's point of view, it will still have that, but it will be a lot more focused on y/n until they meet. Also it might take a little before they meet, but we will get there! Let me know if you want added to the taglist!
Taglist:
@sapphireravensworld @cimadreamer @froggybich @randomstranger703 @tiredlillypad @melday0105 @btsgangleader @hawke1917 @gbshdhd @pandaquick @littleladydemon @wonderlandangelsposts @hulyenl @willow404
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