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myfictionaldreams · 8 months

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You're Mine, Sweetheart // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson loved many things but above all else, he loved teasing you, especially when it was so easy to do. All day he had been whispering into your ear and giving lingering touches and now, you were ready for him to do whatever he wanted to you.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, dirty talk, pet names, teasing (LOTS), begging, sir kink, praise kink, panty kink/panty sniffing, discussion of past sex, restraints, polaroids, Eddie has an obsession with your smell and taste :), cum swallowing, blowjob, fingering, rough sex, pussy slapping, possessive behaviour, overstimulation, biting

Words: 6.6k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

It wasn’t a frequent event where you’d have to sleep by yourself, without your boyfriend wrapped around your body giving you warmth and comfort. Tonight unfortunately was one of those nights where you were tossing and turning, trying to find the same comfort that Eddie gave you, even positioning your pillows so that it may feel like him against your back but to no avail as you watched the hours slowly tick by on your alarm clock.

Eddie had a late-night gig at the hideout and your family had wanted to have a games night with even the extended family coming over so it wasn’t something you could sneak your way out of. By the time your family were in bed and Eddie was packing up his equipment, it would have been too late for him to come and pick you up and both decided like sensible adults to just meet the following day which also happened to be the weekly arcade meet up with all of your friends so that was something else to look forward to.

Now however, as the sun began to welcome the day, you were dreading the idea of having to leave your bed and gain the energy to go to the arcade and hang with friends. Eddie, yes you wanted to see, but your social battery was already low and you’d hardly even started. As slumber was just about to consume your body, you were abruptly disturbed by your mom shouting up the stairs, “Darling, the phone!”.

With a pained grunt, you rolled out of bed, stumbling out of your room and down the stairs, not even bothering to open your eyes as you’d grown up in this house and could walk around it without looking. Knowing your mom had left the phone resting on top of the holder, you reached blindly for it and rested it against your face.

“Hello?”, your voice was croaky and thick with sleep, not that you cared though as you held the phone between your ear and shoulder so that you could rub the sleep out of your eyes.

A deep chuckle welcomed you on the other end of the line and immediately your entire body felt rejuvenated, a smile blooming across your lips. Your eyes opened but only to check your parents were anywhere close by as you began to nervously twist and play with the phone cable. “You sound just as tired as I feel, Sweetheart”, Eddie remarked but you could sense his happiness through his tone.

“Hey you”, your sleepy voice suddenly sounded light and flirtatious, “couldn’t sleep either?”.

Your boyfriend released an exacerbated sigh, followed by a soft known where you knew he’d rested his head back against the wall. “Nope, not a single second, missed you too much”.

His casual declaration for missing you, always so open about his feelings, made your heart thump harder in your chest like it was going to beat so hard your ribs would break. There was just something about knowing that he was as attached to you as you were to him.

“I missed you too. How was the gig?”, You bit your lip as he began to talk, it felt like you’d swallowed hundreds of little butterflies with the tumbling nerves floating in your stomach which always seemed to happen when talking to Eddie, he had you hooked beyond a reasonable doubt.

“It was fucking awesome! I nailed the solo, you know, the one I’ve been practising all week? Even got a well-done head nod from a couple of the locals which I thought was pretty neat”.

Your smile spread to a full grin hearing his passion as you praised him for doing so well, “That’s amazing Eddie! I wish I was there to see it, I’m sorry again that I wasn't, you know I would always come to support you if I could”.

“It’s no worries, Sweetheart, I only would have been distracted by you in the crowd like I always am. Especially when you start jumping up and down in those corroded coffin shirts”. The apples of your cheeks warmed as you glanced over your shoulder to double-check check your parents weren’t within earshot. When you and Eddie had begun to date, he gave you a corroded coffin shirt which was just a cheap white shirt with the name scribbled in a black sharpie so you redesigned it slightly and cut the sleeves and around the neckline so that the tops of your cleavage would be exposed.

When you didn’t respond to Eddie, he continued, the pitch of his voice lowering to the way that he usually used when he was whispering in your ear to get you in a certain mood. “Want to know a secret?”

“Yes”, you reply with an only just audibly heard response as your tongue suddenly feels heavy and thick in your mouth as you wait in anticipation for what he has to tell you.

“Do you remember those Polaroids we took a couple of weeks ago? The ones when we skipped school and hid in my van?”

Your cunt instantaneously pulse in sudden arousal at the reminder of those explicitly scandalous pictures from the time he’d convinced you to both skip school after spending most of the day whispering sweet nothings into your ear and getting you so riled up that you were practically begging him to tie you up in the back of his van and fuck you. So of course, he did just that: he had to take a pretty picture to remind him of the sight of you at his mercy.

“Princess?” Eddie asked when you once again didn’t reply.

“Sorry, yeah I remember those”.

“Good. Because it slipped my mind that I’d hidden a few of them in my guitar case so what a happy surprise for me when right before I went on stage, I found the Polaroid beneath my guitar. The one where your arms and legs are tied together with my cock buried into that pretty pussy of yours”.

You had to bite your lip to hold back the moan threatening to burst from you as you also had to lean against the wall due to your knees trembling as slickness gathered between your legs.

Eddie continued, “I had to go on stage with a fucking hard-on - luckily the guitar covered it but, as I looked out and couldn’t see you, all I could think about last night were your perfect tits, bouncing up and down- god I miss them!” he groaned deeply. “Want to know how bad it got? At the end of the gig I had to run to the bathroom and jerk off before I creamed in my pants like a fucking teenager”.

You were absentmindedly rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the ache and need that had settled through your core, your nipples pebbling beneath your shirt and rubbing against the material.

“And then”, Eddie continued, “oh… well I can always tell you what I did when I got back home when I see you later, how does that sound Princess?”

“Good”, you say breathlessly.

“Good, what?” Eddie encouraged.

“Good sir”, your entire body heated now with embarrassment, quickly remembering where you were so you glanced over your shoulders to check that your parents hadn’t suddenly appeared but thankfully they were still in the kitchen and couldn’t hear.

“That’s my girl”, his voice once again spiked arousal straight between your legs and you were sure that if in person you’d be begging for him to touch you, pleasure you until you couldn’t remember your name. “What time should I pick you up?” Eddie asked, casually snapping you out of your erotic thoughts and changing the subject completely.

Shaking your head to try and clear your mind, you contemplated for a moment, “Um, I could be ready in 30 minutes so whenever you’d like, no rush or anything, I don’t think we’re meeting anyone until midday anyway”.

“I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes”, were his last words before he hung up, no doubt in a rush to come and pick you up which then meant you also had to rush but you were almost giddy with excitement.

Washing was a simple task but staring at your wardrobe felt like an endless journey. Do you wear jeans or a skirt? Do you go casual or dressy? Pink or blue? You were able to give up and lie on the bed when a blue, knee-length dress caught your eye. It was simple, floaty thin material that wasn’t too over the top but pleasant enough to meet out with friends. Especially as it matched your Converse and jacket, you were happy and had enough time to apply a light sprinkling of make-up but not too much as Eddie always preferred you more naturally than all dolled up.

Looking at yourself once last time, you moved downstairs to wait for your boyfriend, having 2 minutes to quickly pick up a slice of toast before the tale tell rattle and bang from his van were heard through the open window. Quickly pecking both of your parents’ cheeks, you ran to the door, not stopping with your swift pace until you were colliding with a solid chest.

“Woah, hey Sweetheart”, Eddie laughed, cradling the back of your head and shoulders as you nuzzled into his plain black shirt, breathing in his scents of the recently smoked cigarette, leather jacket and cheap deodorant but under all of that was the lemon from his shampoo.

“Hey!” You couldn’t help but beam up at him, looking like a love-sick puppy but happy to see that he was giving you the same look as he dipped his lips to steal a kiss from your lips. You checked him over unsubtly, from his ripped baggy black jeans to the loosely done ponytail that already had a few curls escaping.

Your boyfriend was doing the same check as you as his chocolate eyes roamed over your outfit, focusing slightly for a second as he licked his lips and then snapping out of whatever he’d just remembered. Leaning over, you thought he was going to kiss you again but instead, he took a hefty bite out of your slice of toast before asking “Ready?”

Nodding your head, Eddie happily helped you into the van to be his passenger princess before climbing in himself. The two of you drove around for a while as you both caught up with each other's time without the other, no mention of Polaroids or whatever it was that Eddie did after returning home.

Even though it has been less than 24 hours since you saw him last, the conversation seemed to flow endlessly as you sat happily next to him, admiring his dimpled grin and exaggerated expressions with his hands as he told you about Gareth locking himself out of his car.

You laughed and casually leaned your head against his shoulder as he began to drive in the direction of the arcade. Eddie's hand gently landed on your covered thigh, stroking his thumb in comforting circles over the thin material. “Do you remember the last time you wore this dress?” He asks casually before kissing your temple whilst keeping his eyes on the road.

Your face set in concentration as you looked down at the dress, like it could spark a memory for you but it didn’t so you shook your head no, expecting him to say something cute like you wore it for your first date or something; he always had a good memory on these sorts of things.

As you were staring at the road, you weren’t able to see the corner of his lips quip up as he excited himself to tell you. His ringed fingers squeezed slightly against your thigh as he said two simple words: movie night.

A heavy breath rushed from you as it all came flooding back. The last time you’d decided to wear this outfit, Eddie had been so riled up by the pretty clothing, that he’d complimented you almost constantly as you both attended Steve’s for a group movie night. However neither you nor Eddie saw the end of the film as the two of you were locked in the bathroom with Eddie's fingers pumping into your hole.

“Remember now?” He asked noting the way your thighs clenched and eyes unfocused slightly.

“Yes I remember”, you mumbled in response, refusing the meet his eye contact for fear that you’d fall right into those beautiful orbs and lose your mind.

“Good, I want you to think about that today as we’re out and about because I know for damn sure that’s exactly what I’m going to be thinking about”.

“Ok”, you paused for a breath and added, “sir” for good measure, absentmindedly reaching for the hand on your lap to play with his chunky silver rings, twisting them around and around. A little habit you’d developed when you were feeling somewhat submissive and needy, finding the touch of his jewellery comforting as it meant he was close. Eddie smirked down as he also noticed this, loving how easy it was for him to get you all worked up and needy for him, In fact, it was something he craved, especially when you clung to him like a koala, he needed you just as much as you needed him so welcomed the grabbing and touches.

The two of you arrived and somehow managed to be late, even though you’d both been driving around for a while. Everyone was already inside the arcade, hardly even noticing your entrance until Eddie shouted, “The fun has arrived!”. Not only did this bring the attention of all of your friends but also the attention of everyone else so you promptly rushed to your favourite machine.

Eddie of course, followed directly behind you, wanting to stay close even though he was itching to play a different machine. Inserting the money, you began to play, full concentration on the tiny screen in front of you but this was swiftly distracted by the warm solid body standing directly behind you. His comforting smell wrapped around you like a warm hug as he rested his chin on your shoulder, hair stroking against your cheek and hands on your waist beneath your jacket. It was nice to just be in each other's company, friends around, casually chatting as they gamed next to you but once they’d left and you were once again just with each other, you became hyper-aware of his presence and casual kisses against your ticklish neck.

“Don’t get distracted now, Sweetheart”, Eddie teased whilst tightening his hold on your waist, pulling himself even more flush against your back. “Just concentrate on the game, not on me”.

Your silence was enough to know that you were doing exactly the opposite of his request and were tongue-tied and unable to think of a witty response. Especially as he gently blew onto your ear, sending a rush down your spine. “Keep your eyes on the screen, otherwise how will you win?”, Eddie’s voice was low and his chest vibrated against your back. Your eyes snapped back to the screen, not even realising that you’d tried to glance over your shoulder up at him. Eddie had returned to his earlier mindset, intent to thoroughly dampen your underwear and muddle your coherent thoughts with arousal and need, especially as he casually remarked, “I know it’s highly inappropriate but I would really love to take you back to my van and lift this dress right now and see what fun I could have”.

Thankfully Eddie's arms remained locked around your body as your knees wobbled and a weak moan burst from your throat but luck was on your side as the game machines were louder so no one could hear.

Eddie heard though as he laughed in your ear, “The thing is, I know you’d let me because you’re my special Princess, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir”, you say without a care in the world or the fact that you’re in a public space.

“That’s my girl, keep up the good work”, his plump lips smashed into your cheek in a dramatic display of affection and then he was gone, moving away to play his own game, leaving you clutching onto the edges of the machine, trying to not look like you were about to melt into the floor.

Making a split-second decision, you purposefully died on the game and trailed after your boyfriend, finding him shouting at a game that was accepting his change. Eddie didn’t say anything as you slid your arms around his middle and ducked under his arm, he simply kissed your forehead and calmed down enough to play the game around your body.

Another hour came and went and you’d finally deemed it safe enough to venture on your own without feeling too needy to be around Eddie. However, it didn’t last long as he returned over your shoulder.

“Want to know the naughty things that I did when I got home last night?”, he asked referring to the conversation you’d had earlier in the morning.

Your fingers hesitated over the brightly coloured controls so Eddie swiftly braced his arms around you to continue playing on your behalf, holding your fingers onto the controls so you were now both playing. You wanted to know Eddie’s erotic tale of his adventures last night that were sure to drive you crazy but you were unsure of the public setting, knowing that you were already horny for him and any further taunting would drive you crazy. Eddie of course, was going to tell you regardless of whether it was a public space or not and was desperate to see just how crazed he could drive you so he didn’t wait for your response before continuing in short, swift statements.

“I got home, found a pair of your panties that still are hidden in my room… and touched myself whilst sniffing them like a fucking perv.”

You tried to turn and look at him to see if he was being serious or not but his arms tightened, keeping you facing forward.

There was too much to process but also not that much at all. He’s actually pleasured himself whilst sniffing your underwear. Eddie was always very vocal and complimentary of how much he loved your smell and taste and that it drove him crazy but you always assumed that it was all just words in the heat of the moment but clearly it wasn’t as he’d been able to pleasure himself with just your smell alone.

Neither of you said anything about this event, mostly because you were trying to convince your body to calm down and Eddie was silently planning his next way to tease you. Even as the hours passed, and you both mingled with friends, played games and snacked, Eddie would continue to whisper things under his breath to you.

Then there were his hands, brushing over your hands, tickling the skin on your neck, a stark comparison to the heavy touches against your hips, holding and squeezing as he’d casually walk past. Eddie Munson was unequivocally on a mission and you were failing very quickly.

It also seemed that Eddie was falling into his own trap, especially as he briefly glanced up at you from across the room and saw that you were biting your lip whilst looking at him, eyes exploring his body and something inside of him snapped. One minute you were surrounded by the bright colours of the arcade, the musky smell of aged carpet and the varying ages of people. The next moment, you’re greeted with fresh air and only Eddie surrounding you as he drags into the alleyway behind the arcade.

Your body was pushed against the uncomfortable brick wall as Eddie rested his arms on either side of your head, body pressed against your front and face dipped into your neck.

“Tease me some more and I’ll show you my reaction.”

“I…I wasn’t teasing, I mean- I wasn’t doing it on purpose”, you tried to explain with panic evident in your voice, already showing Eddie you were slipping further into your submissive mindset of always trying to make him happy.

“Uh huh”, Eddie continued to taunt, “I can see right through your pretty little lies. If you want to tease me like this, then you wouldn’t mind if I teased you right back, is that what you wanted? To trase me so much that I snap and fuck you in this disgusting alleyway?”

You couldn’t talk, eyes wide and worried and yet also wanting him to do exactly that. Eddie has you exactly where he wants you and almost feels bad for a moment knowing that he had been the one to do all the teasing but that didn’t stop him, especially as he had you so pent up. Lifting his ringed hand, he begins by stroking down your jaw with the tips of his fingers, all the whilst his jean-covered thigh lifts and slots itself between yours until it was flush against your clothed cunt.

You simultaneously whimper and shudder, pressing your hips down on your leg to add more stimulation to where you want to be touched the most.

Eddie’s eyes were dark as he studied you, “Look at you, already a whimpering little mess to my touches. Tell me, Sweetheart, what do you want me to do to you?”

Your brain screamed “everything!” and it seemed your mouth did the same as the next moment Eddie snickered. However, he did the opposite of what you wanted as he pulled his body away from yours and took a step back, not wanting to fuck you in the alleyway. His van was one thing but a dirty street? He’d never treat his princess like that.

Seeing and hearing your disappointment at his warmth moving away, he quickly cupped your cheeks, stroking his thumbs against the apple of your cheeks and pulling you into the most delicate kiss that he could muster. Your whimpers turned into mewls as your body raised onto the tips of your toes to try and be closer and deepen the kiss.

“Want you, Eddie, please can we go?” you asked between kisses.

Eddie contemplated denying you for a moment, knowing that the two of you should probably hang with your friends for a little longer but looking at the need in your pretty eyes and feeling your hands gripping his wrists like you never wanted to let go, he knew it was probably best to head back.

“Alright Sweetheart, don’t worry I’ll look after my needy girl, let’s get you to the van and I’ll tell the others we’re leaving”. He heard you audibly sigh in relief as he grasped your hands, interlocking your fingers together before heading in the direction of the car park however, you only took a few steps before stopping. “What’s wrong?”

You were rubbing your legs together like you needed to pee but it wasn’t this that was the issue. “It’s uncomfortable to walk with wet panties, they’re rubbing on my skin”.

Eddie’s eyes immediately zoned in on the area that you were talking about like he had x-ray vision and could see through your dress. Licking his lips, he suggested, “Well, why don’t you take them off?”

Without even checking if there was anyone at the end of the alleyway, you reached beneath your dress and pulled down your matching shade of blue to the dress underwear, that blissful sigh of relief returning. Eddie to his credit was shocked that you would do something like this within view of anybody walking past and his cock throbbed painfully within his baggy jeans as he saw the sheen of arousal on the material.

Your boyfriend acted on instinct as he quickly grabbed your underwear and rubbed his thumb against the patch of juices, his eyes remaining on you though as he then sucked on his thumb. It was almost pornographic the moan he released, eyes rolling back in his head dramatically. Before you could even squeak or react, Eddie shoved the panties into his leather jacket pocket and grabbed your hand again, moving with more speed towards his van.

Much like this morning, he opened the passenger door for you to climb into, his hands on your waist again to give you a boost up before he shut the door and ran, actually running, into the arcade to say bye to everyone.

Whilst waiting for him, you tried to regain composure, deciding it was much too hot for your jacket and shrugging it off. Eddie returned in record time, slightly out of breath from how fast he’d run in and out of the building as he gave you a cheeky grin, his dimples deepening as he turned on the engine.

“What did you tell them?”, you asked.

“Just that you weren’t feeling very well and I needed to get you home to rest. I think they bought the lie but I also don’t care right now, I just want to be with you”.

You smiled fondly at him, cuddling in close to his side and resting your head on his shoulder as he rested his hand on your thigh in a stronghold which you appreciated, needing it to help ground you to the moment as you played with his rings.

Eddie drove like a madman, even though his body showed that he was at ease, it was clear that he just wanted to be back at his trailer already as he probably broke a couple of laws with how he was driving. The two of you both smiled upon seeing his home and after he parked up, he ran around to your side of the van and helped you down the large step. Thankfully his Uncle Wayne would be at work until the early hours of the morning so you both didn’t need to worry about being interrupted.

Once inside, Eddie let go of his hold on your hips so that he could shrug off his jacket, throwing it onto the couch. “Do you want a beer?” he asked over his shoulder, kicking off his shoes as he walked, something you also did but left them neatly next to the door rather than in a messy pile like Eddies.

“No thank you”, you politely responded, rubbing your arms with the loss of his warmth as your eyes followed his every move. Once more Eddie’s moves were calculated, knowing that you’d quickly follow after him, needing to feel him close, having felt like you’d waited too long to finally be properly alone with him.

Before he could even open the beer, you slid in front of him and pulled his face down to yours, kissing him desperately and breathlessly. The beer clattered onto the kitchen countertop as Eddie laughed against your mouth at how frantic you’d become. He pulled away, glancing down to see that you were trying to rub your body up against his.

“Aw, my princess, are you feeling needy?” he spoke in a patronizing tone which only made you lean in further to prove your point.

“Yes”, you gasp, trying once more to pull his face down to yours but he takes over, taking your wrists in one hand and pushing your body back until you are pressed up against the refrigerator with your hands now held above your head.

“What do you want? Tell me.”.

“I want you, please Sir”.

Eddie clicked his tongue, “Be specific, what do you want from me?”

“Everything I want…everything please, I need you, Eddie”.

The Hellfire leader felt like his chest was going to explode with how hard his heart was beating seeing you like this, he’d expected you to be needy but this desperate? He was ready to walk on flaming coals if you’d asked but he continued his taunting for now, wanting to see if he could get you to say something dirty.

“Aw… Have I turned you into a wet puddle?”

You moan at his words, bucking your hips to show him where you want to be touched. You pulled on your wrists as well, wanting to get out of his hold to play with his hair, kiss his neck, rip his clothes off, just something!

“I think the lack of sleep and horniness has ruined your pretty little submissive head, what do you think?”

You again moan but this time in frustration, face scrunching up as you weren’t getting what you wanted. The hand that wasn’t holding your wrists hovered over your body, moving up the dress until he was grasping your jaw, forcing you to look up into his beautiful puppy eyes that were now hardened and full of dominance. You could feel his chunky rings biting into your skin as his breath kissed the skin of your cheek as he contemplated just what he wanted to do with you first. “I love how responsive you are to me”, Eddie praised, “I mean, look how needy you are after just a few words and touches through the day. You really are mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, only yours Eddie- Sorry, I meant Sir”, you quickly corrected yourself.

Eddie’s gaze softened slightly as he could see your thoughts racing with the need to please him in every way. “It’s ok, you can say my name, I always like it when you say my name”. Gently he kissed the tip of your nose, giving you a moment of care before asking, “I’ll giv eyou the option. Do you want me to touch you or do you want to touch me?”

“I want to touch you”, you say without a second's hesitation.

Eddies grip released as he held his hands away from you, “Then I’m all yours”.

He expected you to jump into his arms, kissing him or pulling on his hair like you always did when you needed him to be closer but this wasn’t what you did. Instead, you dropped to your knees and clawed at his jeans. Surprising even yourself, you managed to undo his zipper, reach into his checkered boxers and find his cock, hard and waiting for you as you pulled it out of the unzipped hole. Not even bothering to undo his belt as you just wanted to have him in your mouth.

“Shit Princess, Jesus Christ!”, Eddie shouted as your lips wrapped around the tip of his throbbing cock where it was wet with precum and red with how long he’d been hard for. You didn’t want to tease him, you just wanted him to find the ultimate pleasure so you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him deeper.

Your boyfriend tipped his head back, biting his knuckle to hold back the shouts that were sure to be loud enough to disturb the neighbours. Inch after inch of his cock slipped down your tongue and to the back of your throat until you were gagging but you kept him there, not pulling out until you were gasping for air.

“Wait, just wait a second”, Eddie gasped after a couple of minutes. Quickly, he undid his belt and button, moving the material of his jeans and boxers down his hips until his cock and balls were waiting proudly for your mouth.

“Thank you”, you say politely to him, wrapping a hand around the base and moving it out of the way so that you could suck on his balls, pulling each one into your mouth before returning to taking his length. Eddie rested a hand against the back of your head eventually helping your movement by pushing you further down, until you were gagging and burning for air, but the throb of his cock was only adding to the pleasure of it all.

“Let me see those eyes”, he softly demanded, and you hadn’t even realised your eyes had closed whilst in the thought of nothing but his cock. Opening them quickly, you made eye contact and were praised with a loving stroke of the back of his hand against your cheek. “Always so good for me, I fucking love you”, Eddie grunted, his hips snapping and balls tightening at the same time and you knew he was on the verge of cumming. His velvet shaft became harder against your tongue as you sucked him more vigorously “Swallow”, was all he demanded and you did just that as he swore, his pink lips dropping open as he came down your throat. His salty goodness was thick as you swallowed every single drop.

“Fuck Sweetheart, you did so well for me”, Eddie praised a moment later after his cock stopped throbbing and began to soften. Pulling out, strings of saliva connected the tip of his cock to your mouth as he chuckled, wiping it away, “Oh you’re drooling everywhere… Come here.”

Eddie helped you to stand but seeing how unsteady and weak your knees were, he lifted you onto the kitchen countertop, spreading your legs and lifting your dress to expose your drenched cunt to him. In a harsh grip, he grabbed a handful of your hair, holding you steady as he spread your juices around with his middle finger, circling your hole before pushing in.

“Look at you and to think, I’ve only just started using my fingers and you’re already shaking”, he taunted as he pushed his finger in and out slowly, watching your body respond with gasps and twitches. As he added a second finger, he praised, “I love the way you look with my fingers inside of you”.

Your hips bucked at his words as you tried to match his movements, especially as he began to curl his fingers to stroke against your pleasurable spot. However, then you said something that he wasn’t expecting, “Please don’t be gentle with me”.

Eddie didn’t need telling twice as he pulled out and gave your pussy a sharp slap, directly over your neglected clit. He rubbed away with a sting before doing it again and again, watching as you cried out and tried to lean into the touch and only did he stop when your pussy was drenched, puffy and your clit was overstimulated. “Did you like that Princess? Do you like it when I’m rough with you?”

“Yes, thank you sir!”, you shouted, whilst also leaning into the hand still holding your hair.

“So desperate today, aren’t you Sweetheart. Come on let's get this off of you”, as he spoke, he released his hold but only to grip the dress and lift it up and over your head. Next, he helped you down from sitting on the side but only so that he could turn you around and bend you over it instead as he also undid your bra and discarded that to the floor. The dress you’d worn was mde of a stretchy, flimsy material so he was easily able to use it to tie it around your wrists, getting the restrained behind your back.

“Let’s go”, he instructs, holding onto the material and using it to move you around, manhandling you to walk from the kitchen and into his bedroom, helping you to be face first on his mattress, careful to not hurt your neck as your arms were still restrained and arse perked into the air for him.

Eddie began to remove his clothes as you wiggled your hips invitingly and your boyfriend admired the perfect view in front of him before kneeling between your legs, hands massaging the flesh of your hips.

“Say you’re mine”, he demanded in a low, rough voice.

“I’m yours”.

“Tell me again”, he asked as he looked from your face to your cunt.

“I’m yours, Eddie”.

Hearing his name again, he couldn’t wait any longer as he carefully pushed the tip of his now hard cock into your hole. You were already so sensitive, even though you hadn’t cum yet, with all of the arousal pulsing through you, it felt like you’d already orgasmed a handful of times and with Eddie’s recent orgasm, he was just as sensitive. He moved slowly, even though you wanted it rough, he didn’t want to actually hurt you, knowing exactly what your limis were so he made sure to give you time to stretch and get used to his size.

However, once your moans were echoing around the room and you were trying to push yourself back on his cock, he released the restraint that he was holding onto. With his hands holding onto your hips, Eddie began to fuck you relentlessly, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix, his bals smacking into your clit and hips pushing your face into the bed.

Eventually your knees lose any strength that was holding your body up and you collapsed forward onto the bed. Eddie didn’t stop though, especially when he could hear how good you were feeling so he moved one of your legs up, giving him more room and he body crowded over your back as he bites your shoulder.

“Wanna cum Eddie, your words were muffled against the bed but he could already feel how close you were from how tight your pussy was clenching.

“You can cum for me, you’re doing so well”, he praised, licking over the spot he’d just bitten.

However, you groaned in frustration rather than pleasure as you moaned, “But I wanna cum with you Eddie, please cum in my pussy”.

“Oh Princess, all you had to do was ask”.

Eddie fucked you harder, his mouth sloppily kissing your cheek as you tried to hold back your orgasm for as long as possible but it was getting too much, everything was too overwhelming and eventually you couldn’t keep it back anymore.

You came hard and with a high-pitched scream, your pussy clenching so tightly around Eddie that he too found his release, orgasming together, both sensitive and bodies rocking together through the pulses of pleasure.

He stayed inside of you for a moment, trying to catch his breath and it was only when he could feel your restrained fingers wiggling against his abdomen did he push his weight up on his arms to kiss delicately across your bare shoulder. “That tickles”, he mumbled, causing you to giggle tiredly.

Carefully, he knelt back, undoing your bound wrists and massaging the areas to get them to relax at your side. “I'm going to pull out, ok?”

You nod but still hiss at the discomfort of your walls being stimulated whilst being so sensitive and then there was the gush of his cum and your juices that began to pour out and down your clit. “My favourite sight”, he admires, stroking your arse cheek as you smiled over your shoulder before closing your eyes and taking a moment to relax.

Eddie clambers off of the bed, turning on his stereo to the latest heavy metal album and then returningto caefully wipe way between your legs before manhandling your to lie across his chest. There the two of you just lay, enjoying the post-sex high.

Eventually, Eddie sparked up a cigarette, careful to try and blow the smoke away from you but the smell of it had become a comfort for you as you nuzzled further into his naked chest, feeling sleep nearly taking over.

A delicate kiss to the tip of your nose however had you coming back to the moment and opening your eyes, “Hey, don’t go to sleep for me just yet, I’m not quite done with you. We’re just having a little break but I still need to taste you Sweetheart”.

Your body warmed and you were now wide awake with the adrenaline pulsing through you. Eddie took another long suck of smoke, blowing it into the air and you never realised just how much the sight would turn you on. It was going to be a very long, sleepless night.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #dom eddie munson #stranger things smut #eddie munson one shot #mine*#stranger things one shot

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perlelune · 4 months

Text

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | vi.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

An eternity seems to fly by as you wait for Coriolanus to do what you’re too terrified to do on your own. During the agonizing minutes, you picture William’s face. The confusion, the hurt. Tears skip down your cheeks as you curl over the blankets, knees against your chest.

Hopefully your reckless actions haven’t ruined what you two have. Maybe one day, you’ll even jest about it, the pre-wedding jitters that caused you to hide for a week.

It’s the meager hope you cling onto as the soft tap on the door draws you from your thoughts.

Coriolanus nudges the door open, a silver tray between his hands. A matching porcelain kettle and cup sit on the tray.

The mattress sinks as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing the steaming teapot at your bedside. Your gaze drags over the colorful roses painted on the porcelain set.

Tearful eyes rising to his face, you ask “H-How did it go?”

His long fingers drape over your cheek, wiping your tears as he smiles down at you. “Everything’s alright.” His deep soothing voice brings you comfort as it rolls over you. “Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, just like I promised you.” He collects the tea cup from the tray. The steam rising from it caresses your face.

“It’s my own personal blend of chamomile, peppermint and lavender, for your nerves.”

“I don’t need that.”

Concern sways in Coryo’s blue orbs, his thumb collecting another stray tear.

“You had an emotional day. It’ll help you sleep, trust me.”

You don’t reply, laying the side of your face against the pillow. Do you even deserve to sleep soundly after causing the people in your life so much unnecessary distress?

Maybe this is what you deserve, unending nights wrestling with your own mind while you drown in a river of your own tears. After all, if you hadn’t overindulged in alcohol that night, you wouldn’t be here. You still remember the way Coryo described it. Were you truly that desperate to bury Sejanus’ memory, to forget?

Coriolanus strokes the crown of your head.

“I just want you to get one good night of rest. You need it. Do you really want to spend the entire night torturing yourself when you’ve done nothing wrong?”

For a while, silence hangs between the two of you, Coriolanus letting you weep as he patiently cups your face. The aromatic scents of the herbs he mixed in the tea tickle your nose. You have to admit, it smells heavenly. Like peace. The thing you’re craving most at this very moment. For your thoughts and emotions to fall silent, allowing you to drift into a dreamless slumber.

So you surrender.

You sit up and graciously accept the cup Coryo offers you. As soon as the first few drops of the warm liquid coat your tongue, a heady, pleasant feeling swaddles your mind. It makes your body feel heavy, pleasant warm tingles swirling over your flesh.

“I’m starting to feel…”

Coryo’s beaming face starts blurring in your line of sight. Your grip on the cup weakens. He assists you in holding it, tipping the rim against your lips so you gulp another sip.

“Drink more. All of it.” You heed his instruction. The drowsiness grows tenfold. Your lids sag. Your body slumps over the pillows. You feel the soft brush of Coriolanus’s lips on your forehead. “Sweet dreams, princess.”

You awake from the best sleep you’ve had in literal weeks, a wide smile stretching over your lips as you unfurl from the sheets.

Unlike the nights before, you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, crying or tossing and turning in bed.

You pivot to the sun rays spilling from between the curtains. You bask in the rejuvenating warmth kissing your skin. For a while, you stay like that, in awe that your mind isn’t crowded with anxious thoughts. Instead, you’re calm, rested, your head light as feathers. Even your grief is a faint noise when it’s usually so loud, its uproarious presence twisting your heart first thing most mornings.

It’s a newfound serenity you haven’t known in many weeks.

Even the bone-deep ache sitting in your limbs cannot cast a pale on the day. As you step in the rose-scented bath that’s been drawn for you, the soreness lingers. You grimace a little.

Perhaps you slept so heavily, your entire body is tense from it.

But as you lie back and let the hot water work its magic, the pain starts to fade. You let the strange sensation melt away, smiling once more.

You enjoy your bath. A bright, wonderful day awaits you.

When you’re done, you put on one of your favorite day dresses and hop down the stairs.

You find the entire Snow clan having breakfast in the dining room.

Coriolanus peeks from above the morning paper, his face brightening as his gaze flicks over you.

As you approach the empty chair near Grandma’am, Coriolanus rises and pulls it for you.

“Good morning,” you chime while plopping into your seat.

Tigris beams at you. “Good morning. I see someone’s feeling better.”

You tuck your hands into your lap as a maid places a scrumptious plate of eggs and meat in front of you. Your stomach growls at the sight and you pick up your fork, excited to dig into the food. You haven’t had a proper meal since you left Ma and Dad’s house.

Although, even that is a fuzzy memory, as you can’t remember the last time all of you sat down and had a proper breakfast as a family since Janus passed away.

It’s been too hard.

Shoving the fork into your mouth, you acquiesce, “Much better.” You hum as the flavors melt on your tongue.

The corner of Coriolanus’s lip quirk as he observes you. He returns to his seat and bends forward.

“I take it you’ve had a restful night, princess?”

“Yes, and I have you to thank for that. I don’t know what’s in that tea exactly but it works wonders.”

“I’ve had the opportunity to experiment with many natural remedies while working under Dr Gaul.” A glint dances in his blue eyes. “Some plants have the most…fascinating benefits.”

“I think I’ll take some with me home, if you don’t mind. Not just for me but Ma has struggled with sleep ever since…”

Your voice dwindles as an abrupt wave of sadness passes over you.

Tigris grabs your hand and squeezes it across the table.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Coriolanus nods in agreement. “She’s right. Take it one day at a time, princess.”

You ponder what he just said. You are feeling markedly better today, but you loathe thinking about your mom and dad alone.

You swallow a wide lungful.

“Maybe I should go back home tomorrow.”

Coriolanus’ gaze narrows, his smile vanishing momentarily before sliding back into place.

“This early? Shouldn’t you rest a bit more first? It’s clear that you need it.” He studies you for a long time. “You can’t be here for others when you aren’t healed yourself.” You shudder. Sometimes the blond seems to possess the uncanny ability to peer right inside your head. He reaches over the table to place his hand over yours. “Don’t rush it. Like I told you before, our home is your home.”

You don’t find it in yourself to argue, Coriolanus’ gentle yet firm grip on your hand and his smile chasing away your doubts.

“O-Okay.”

Satisfaction glimmers in his gaze at your response.

As Coryo advises, you remain with his family a little while longer. Everyday, he finds gentle words to convince you to extend your stay. It doesn’t take much for you to believe him as you trust him fully, his caring demeanor reminding you of your brother. If Coryo thinks you need a bit more time, he must be right. He only wants what’s best for you.

So a few days turn into a week, which eventually becomes two weeks. Surprisingly, you and the Snows’ daily routines twine with ease. In the morning, you have breakfast together in the dining room. Then you tend to the roses with Grandma’am while she hums songs to herself, an endearing habit you’ve grown quite fond of.

And you usually spend the rest of the day with Tigris, chatting or playing board games, or on your own, reading most of the time. Coriolanus’ library is massive enough to rival the one you have at home. You never run out of things to do in the gigantic penthouse, even sometimes cleaning and cooking to pass the time, efforts Coriolanus never fails to praise you for.

Whenever he returns home to a spotless house or one of your delicious meals, his blue eyes light up with happiness.

And of course, at night, Coryo talks to you in your bed while you dutifully drink your tea, regaling you with stories about his apprenticeship and the University. Most of the time, you never get to learn how they end because you fall asleep.

Thanks to Coriolanus’ herbal mixture, your sleeping schedule is back to relative normalcy. The only downsides are the tea’s peculiar side effects, as near everyday you wake up sore and aching. But the slight inconvenience is minor compared to the benefits you’ve experienced.

All is good and well until one day glimpses of lost memories flash in your brain.

You’re starting to remember the night of Clemensia’s party.

It first happens as you’re gardening with Grandma’am. You’re watering one of the rose bushes when something rushes back to you, something so vivid the watering can in your hand clatters to the ground.

You stumble back, your breaths quickening. Placing a hand between your shoulder blades, Grandma’am helps you find your way to a nearby bench. You collapse atop the bench, your mind whirling.

Her wrinkled features crease in concern.

“Are you alright, sweet girl? Should we call a doctor?”

“I’m fine, grandma’am. Just got dizzy for a bit.”

You smile, hating that you just lied to the older woman. You’re not fine. You’re starting to remember things, things that don’t match up, make no sense.

Terrible things.

I knew you’d feel just perfect around me.

Chills bounce across your spine. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the bench as your breath flows back to your lungs.

You come to a decision.

You need to talk to Coriolanus.

Your brows squeeze together in frustration as the balding man checks your pulse and shines a light in your eyes again. It’s the third time tonight. Coriolanus insisted upon it.

“I told you there was no need for a physician, Coryo.”

“Grandma’am said you almost passed out,” the blonde retaliates.

You heave out a deep exhale as you glance at Tigris and Grandma’am standing nervously by the wall. They’re wearing the same concerned expression.

You wished Grandma’am hadn’t made such a big deal of your little moment in the garden. You feel fine…well, physically at least.

You flash a feeble smile at Coriolanus.

“I didn’t…it was just a dizzy spell. Nothing honestly.”

Brows knitting, he turns to the bespectacled older man at his side.

“Doctor?”

As the man nearly approaches you again, you shoot him a warning glare. You refuse to be poked and prodded once more. Lifting his hands, the man falls back.

He adjusts the stethoscope around his neck.

“I see nothing wrong,” he says. Your shoulders sag in relief. “Still, I’d recommend that your wife takes it easy, sir.”

His words make every hair on your skin stand on end.

“I’m not his wife,” you snap.

Coriolanus’ jaw ticks.

He turns to the others and instructs, “Everyone, leave us alone.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation on Tigris’ face. She lingers at your doorstep after Grandma’am and the doctor take their leave.

“Are you really sure that you’re okay?” she asks.

You purse your lips. “I’d feel better if everyone stopped fussing over me.”

She nods before leaving as well.

As soon as the door to your bedroom closes, Coriolanus sinks to one knee in front of you. He takes your hands in his, his thumbs brushing circles into your skin.

His cobalt eyes are wide and worried.

“Is something wrong?”

Your stomach knots. “Coriolanus…”

“Yes?”

You draw your hands back, placing them on your lap. His gaze tracks the tiny motion and he squints.

“That night…” You lick your lips, nerves flaring as your fingers bounce. Just these two words have Coriolanus’ attention on you sharpen in a way that turns your blood to ice. Still you gather your courage and continue, “Did I say no at any point, tried to…stop it? Did…Did you, Coryo?”

The moment your doubts are uttered aloud, you loathe yourself. It’s an awful thing to even suggest. But you can't shake the feeling that there is something Coriolanus isn’t telling you.

And maybe you always felt that way, like something isn’t quite right, but you craved so badly to have a piece of your brother near that you ignored the glaring signs.

Shock paints Coriolanus’ handsome face.

“What? I already told you everything that happened, that I was drunk, we both were.”

You peer at Coriolanus. It hurts. So goddamn much. A knife twisting in your chest, again and again. Especially that look of utter betrayal on his face. You don’t want to casually toss those kinds of accusations at your friend.

But your mind…

It’s bursting at the seams, moments you’re beginning to recall seeping through the cracks. You can’t ignore that. Not the sick echo of Coriolanus’ lustful tone. Not the terrifying glint swaying in his blue eyes. Not the way he panted and grunted above you as you told him to stop. Or at least you think you told him?

You’re not even sure. You’re torn. Coriolanus wouldn’t do that…right? Someone you trust. Someone Sejanus trusted…with you.

Tears swell in your eyes, threatening to break past the confine of your lashes.

Anger flashes in Coriolanus’ eyes. “Really?” he scoffs, bolting to his feet. “You don’t trust me?”

He blurs in your tear-stained vision, distorting to hazy colors you don’t recognize anymore.

“Coryo…” you sob.

He hunkers in front of you again. The anger vanishes, making space for disappointment and sadness.

He cradles your face, his tone softening.

“I would never hurt you,” he mumbles. “How could you even imply…after everything I’ve done for you.”

A shaky breath flutters through your lips. You search Coriolanus’ face, hoping to find something. A truth, an emotion, a lie. Anything, really. Any proof that you’re not crazy, that your mind isn’t just spinning wild stories out of thin air.

Nothing comes up. Coriolanus’ face is a perfect mask of genuine concern and sincerity, right down to his glistening gaze. Doubts even begin to creep inside you beneath his intense stare.

But the longer you look into his eyes, the more unnerved you grow.

Something is off. No one can convince you otherwise. Not anymore.

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“I-I think I need to go home now, Coriolanus.”

You don’t want to be here anymore, in this house you don’t know, with this man…you’re beginning to realize you don’t know either.

You want to be back home, your real home. You crave the safety of your own bed, of Ma’s warm embrace, of the familiar walls of your childhood home.

Instead of acknowledging what you just said, Coriolanus flashes you a bright grin.

“We can discuss it tomorrow.”

A sinking feeling spreads through you. You frown.

“But Coryo-”

He leans to place a tender kiss on your forehead and you freeze. Every cell in your body longs to flinch away from him but gut-gripping fear keeps you in your spot.

“Tomorrow, princess,” he whispers. He fondles your cheek. You can’t tamp down your shudder. Coriolanus’ brow pinches as he gets to his feet. “It’s getting late. You should go to bed.”

Coriolanus heads for the door.

“Sweet dreams,” he coos, smiling. But it doesn’t reach his eyes.

When the door slams shut, a sound you never heard before echoes from outside. The sound of a key slotting and turning inside a lock. The kind of sound suggesting you’re now trapped in the room.

Your gut sinks.

You find yourself wondering; will tomorrow ever come?

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas fanfiction

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loveshotzz · 8 months

Note

12 -mutual masturbation while camping in a tent.

maybe tough girl finally gets to go on the annual camping trip :)

A/N:Thank you for your request angel, the way I had to write this immediately. I love this, I love you and I love them. 💗 this request comes from my completed series All I Really Want Is You but can be read as a stand alone. All you need to know is he calls you Tough Girl, you’ve been dating a year and he’s got a dog named Bandit.

wc: 2k

warnings: 18+, established relationship, age gap (reader is 30 and Steve is 42) slight somno I guess? reader is touching herself but not him, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, semi public.

AIRWIY!older!steve x fem! reader

The birds chirping stirs you first, the sunlight leaking through the half opened flap at the front of the tent, second. Eyes shifting behind closed lids that aren’t ready to open yet, the soft sound of Steve’s slumbered breathing next to you brings the beginning of a smile tugging up at the corners of your lips. The clinking of metal from Bandit’s leash outside is what finally gets you to open your eyes. You’d heard Steve in a daze take him out to pee before letting him bring in the sunrise outside the tent, quickly realizing this was the dog’s favorite part of these getaways.

The air mattress makes a noise that has you cringing when you roll over on the spread out sleeping bags to get a better look at him, the fresh humidity making your skin stick to it. You can’t stop that sigh that slips past your lips at the sight as he takes up room on his back. His permanent bed head is even messier than normal from a night under the stars with your hands in his hair and the stubble that lines his jaw rubbing the inside of your thighs raw. Rejuvenated after a shower that washed off the first two days of the trip.

The streaks of gray that sprinkle through his honey locks stand out even more in the daylight. The crows feet and laugh lines that you’d like to think got deeper in his first year with you are smoothed out in his sleep. You can’t help but wonder what he’s dreaming about, secretly hoping it’s you and not just the morning that has the blood rushing south.

His chest is bare, the dark thatch of hair in the middle looking soft in the warm light, the moles and freckles that dot his tan skin beg to be kissed, just like the sun had the pleasure of doing all weekend. One leg is kicked out of the covers, revealing a low hanging pair of black mesh shorts giving you a peek at the faint hint of a tan line from your days hiking down to the lake. A big hand lays spread across his stomach while the other looks like it got halfway across the small space between you on the search for yours before he fell back asleep.

Your thighs press together in your small sleep shorts, searching for some kind of friction that you know won’t be enough for the low simmer that’s already started deep in your gut. Why did he always have to look so good?

Steve licks his full lips, and you can’t help the way your hand starts to wander towards the ache between your legs that’s begging for attention. Fighting with your self control, your nerves ring in your ears and you swear the birds outside get louder when the tips of your fingers start to play with your waist band.

You freeze when he grunts, blunt nails scratching his stomach making the muscles in his pecs flex. The slight pinch of his brows when something happens in his dream is enough for you to push past the elastic, your fingertips meeting your already dripping folds with a shaky breath through your nose.

Your hips roll, your pointer and index finger spreading your lips apart before the pads of them catch your bundle of nerves when you drag them back up with enough pressure to make you whimper. They don’t feel as good as his, and your heavy lidded gaze focuses on his hand spread across his stomach as you add a third finger to try and mimic the feeling. It’s almost enough and it makes you have to bite your lip to keep quiet, the sound of how wet you already are is almost enough to compete with the growing sounds of the woods coming alive.

“Fuck - honey,” Steve’s voice startles you, thick with sleep and the unmistakable gravel of want, “Why didn’t you wake me up if you needed me so bad huh?”

Your eyes meet his, and all you can do is whine in response when you see all the colors usually inside of them first thing in the morning are gone. The bright greens and gold specks are replaced with something dark and hungry, jaw a little slack while his own hand reaches down, squeezing his now fully hard length over his shorts to relieve some of the throb.

“You know I’d never say no to you,” He whispers, his own hips rocking into his palm. You start to push two fingers in, your greedy walls fluttering despite the embarrassment of being caught making heat rise to your cheeks. “What’s got you so worked up baby?”

He pushes his shorts half way down his hairy thighs, the full thickness of his cock smacking against the dark trail on his stomach. Already leaking, the fat tip of him looks angry as he wraps his fingers around the base, the pad of his thumb swiping over the top making him shudder. He pumps once, twice before rolling over on his side, kicking his shorts all the way off along with the blanket exposing you both to the morning air.

“Come on, don’t be shy now.” He’s closer like this, your noses almost touching and you can smell last night's bonfire still lingering. His eyes roam your body while his wrist sets a slow pace watching your nipples pebble under the thin fabric of your tank when a light breeze ruffles the walls of your tent.

“Y-you - you just looked so good.” Your confession sounds pathetic, but it makes his eyes squeeze shut and a deep breath exhale through his nose, cock twitching in his big hand before he opens them again.

He leans in so his lips ghost against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing the curve of your bottom one before licking into your mouth to steal your breath with the kind of kiss that was usually reserved for late nights after a couple of bottles of wine.

“Take your shorts off, be good for me and let me see honey.” He pants, already wrecked, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before shifting to sit up, the air mattress making you bounce with the redistribution of his weight giving him the perfect view down every curve and dip of your body.

Listening to him, you feel more exposed than ever with your legs spread wide despite no one being around. Steve groans at the visual of you like this, the motions of his wrist getting quicker while his free hand reaches down to pull up your tank by the hem, the soft fat of your breasts spilling out for his hungry eyes. It feels dirty and new, touching yourself like this for him and it only adds to the growing slick between your thighs.

“God, I’m so lucky - can’t believe you're mine. Wakin’ up to you like this? So damn pretty, baby - shit.” He groans, already babbling, squeezing hard at the base of his cock when he sees your arousal gleam in the sunlight every time you pull your fingers out, drunk off watching them disappear again.

“I want you all the fucking time, Steve.” You whine hips pushing up when you add a third one, back arching when he tweaks one of your nipples.

“Yeah?” He asks before spitting into his hand, the slick sounds of his palm working his length even harder blending in with the messy way your walls suck you in. “Tell me about it.”

You nod, completely gone by hearing him talk to you like this, curving your fingers just right to hit the spot that makes you keen. A strangled noise leaving his throat when he clocks the way your thighs start to shake, your mind racing with thoughts of him. He needs you to come soon, and when he sees the pad of your thumb start to rub messy circles on your puffy clit he knows he doesn’t have to hold off for very long.

“You’re just so sexy all the time,” it’s your turn to babble and the breathy laugh that leaves him makes you clamp around your fingers even tighter despite wishing you could roll your eyes, “Those fucking running shorts, your suits, god I want you to bend me over your desk so bad. I think about it all the - ohhhh- a lot.”

“Jesus - baby, m’gonna have you meet me for lunch when we get back, god wear that short little dress, yeah? I’ll give you what you want, shit - anything you want.” He stutters feeling himself start to get close, your confessions bringing him to the edge.

“I - mmm- I won’t wear any underwear.” You giggle before your mouth falls open, the band inside of you dangerously close to snapping at the thought of him behind his desk and the predatory way he’d watch the sway of your hips knowing you’re bare and already soaked for him underneath.

“Dirty girl,” He moans and you hear the back of his head slide against the tent, “my dirty girl.”

Looking up, your eyes roam the way his chest heaves the closer he gets to his climax, sweat beading and starting to drip down his neck where the veins protrude. His gaze is heavy and hot, and it doesn’t leave you, it begs you to fall apart for him. He watches how your eyes glaze over, completely wrecked at the sight of him and the corner of his mouth turns up.

“Gonna be good and come for me now?” It’s soft when he asks despite how filthy the sounds echoing in the tent are, and when you nod with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, his grin widens. “Of course you are, always so good, so sweet.”

The last part comes out strained, his cock twitching catching the way your thighs start to shut when the drag of your fingers in your cunt becomes deliberate. You were close. The hand that he’s kept on the dough of your breast reaches down to pull your knees apart tutting under his breath.

“I wanna see it, let me have it, come on baby.”

His words are enough for you to push your head back into the pillow, your leg fighting against his firm grip to shut as the rubber band finally snaps. His name falls from lips long and drawn out, a high pitch whine that turns into a gasp and a shuddered loud moan when he pushes your hand away to replace it with his. Thick fingers collect everything you give him, pulling even more from you when he dips inside to hit the spot you could barely reach, praising you as you come even harder.

The feeling of your velvet walls squeezing tight around him brings Steve over the edge, gasping your name with a guttural groan that vibrates from his chest as he spills across his thighs and stomach. Chest heaving from the force of it, the visual of you spread out and falling apart for him makes him see white with his release.

The only sounds are your labored breathing, and a forest that’s come alive in the daylight. You hear Bandit shuffle around to move to another spot following the moving sun as it gets higher in the sky, warming the tent more. Steve is gentle when he pulls out of you, bending down to kiss your sweaty forehead before grabbing his basketball shorts. He chuckles, wiping himself down feeling like a teenager again with nothing else around to clean himself up, your breathy giggle making his teeth shine in a wide grin before he lays himself back down.

There’s zero hesitation to pull you to his chest despite the growing stickiness with the heat, peppering kisses across your face before collecting your lips in something a little sweeter.

“Morning, tough girl.”

#my writing #leighanne practices smut blurbs #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfic

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 months

Note

Can I request Demiurge, Sebas, and Albedo (Overlord) with a Supreme Being reader that's fallen asleep on their lap?

Falling Asleep on Their Laps | Yandere Overlord

As the Flower of Nazarick all the power you have, it has no limits as someone who doesn’t need the rules to thrive it also means you don’t have a real gauge for your energy. Considered more of a divine trainee of a Supreme Being all of Nazarick take it upon themselves to help you in whatever way they can. Especially since Ainz himself prioritizes you so does all of Nazarick and everyone in this world that is graced by your presence. So when you begin to drift to sleep they’ll gladly be your pillow after all what better purpose could they serve to you than the Flower of Nazarick:

Demiurge

“You can count on me, (Y/n).”

With a tail dangerously itching to wag

he watches as your eyes get heavy and your speech slurs dribble into the soft breaths of a sleeping supreme being

Because of Ainz’s trust in him, he has been tasked with helping you hone your power

Specifically holding back

But since you’re so unfamiliar with combat and your limits you were bound to tire yourself out

What was supposed to be a break turns into a full-blown nap

One that Demiurg will protect with his life

He’s frankly going to behead whoever enters without it being a guardian or Ainz

Even the Pleiades aren’t safe

Ainz forbid Yuri or Solution come to retrieve you gathering that you are sleepy by now

They’ll either have to dodge or endure the force of Demiurge’s tail that meticulously strikes for their mere interruption

This is his time with you

Training or not

He resists the urge to caress your face but he’s not Albedo…

He can resist

“I devoted myself to your rest (Y/n)-sama. I couldn’t bear to disrupt your rejuvenation.”

Sebas Tian

“My Flower…please rest.”

Too many times does he see the unhardened heart you have in contrast to Ainz so it seems

So Innocent

So untainted he sees why the world they’re in adores the very ground you hover over

You’re perfect

And he honestly considers himself almost unworthy to have you rest on him

His legs may get tired or even be weighed down by the weight of your head but he would have never given this up

“I’m unworthy but I am your tool oh Flower of Nazarick. Rest easy.”

Albedo

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~ My supreme being is sleeping!~'

She refuses to disturb your slumber with words she might want to say

But that doesn’t stop her other bodily functions

Her wings will flap excitedly

Her face will be overtaken by her smile

And her body’s temperature will rise exponentially

She’ll naturally try to use as much of her body as possibly

Slowly sliding her now ungloved hands on your face

Your nose

Your lips

This is just perfect!!!!

Her Ainz-sama doesn’t sleep so she never gets this opportunity

But with you, she can almost feel everything

If you’re not a light sleeper it's best to assume she’s exploring you and committing your measurements to memory

If she’s feeling particularly confident she might just take you to her bedroom

Or even better in Ainz’s unused room

sniffing your head as she imagines Ainz being with you both

“My Flower~! My (Y/n)~! Ah~! Your slumber is an immaculate gift for me to overindulge!”

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere harem #yandere overlord #yandere overlord x reader #yandere overlord anime #yandere albedo #yandere albedo x reader #yandere overlord albedo #yandere sebas tian #yandere demiurge #yandere demiurge x reader #yandere cocyutus #yandere overlord demiurge #yandere nazarick

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dee-writes-smut · 7 days

Text

SUMMER

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY healing is a long journey that can't be summed up in just four simple seasons, but it seems with the help of a certain shadowsinger at your side, you've seemed to do it.

CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, Cassian POV, and mentions of wingspans ;)

AUTHORS NOTE the finale you've all been waiting for is finally here as promised! Thank you all so much for your support during this series, I am excited to be back and writing for you all again! Love you all and I hope you enjoy! <3

Summer arrives like a promise fulfilled, a canvas awash with vibrant hues of green and gold, as if nature herself has donned her finest attire. The air hums with the gentle whisper of transformation, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the promise of new beginnings on its warm breeze.

As the sun stretches its golden fingers across the land, casting long shadows that dance in its radiant glow, there's a palpable sense of rejuvenation in the air. It's as if each dawn heralds a new chapter, a chance to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the endless possibilities of the present.

In this season of abundance, life bursts forth with an exuberance that is both intoxicating and invigorating. The world awakens from its slumber, blossoming with a riot of colors as flowers unfurl their petals in joyful defiance of the lingering chill of winter. Leaves rustle in the gentle caress of the wind, their verdant whispers carrying tales of resilience and growth.

Amidst this symphony of nature's symphony, there is a sense of newfound strength coursing through every living thing. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the warmth of the sun infuses each day with a sense of possibility, igniting a fire within the soul that refuses to be extinguished.

In the heart of summer, time seems to slow, allowing moments to linger like the last rays of sunlight on a balmy evening. It's a season of exploration and adventure, where every day holds the promise of discovery and every sunset marks the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.

And as the days stretch languidly into twilight, there is a quiet resilience that takes root, a deep-seated belief in the power of new beginnings and the strength that comes from embracing change. For in the heart of summer, beneath the sweltering heat and the endless blue skies, lies the untold promise of tomorrow, waiting to be seized with both hands and forged into something beautiful.

(Mid Summer, Velaris)

The afternoon sun poured into the training ring, casting long shadows of the figures sparring lightly within it. Cassian was across from me, a patient yet mischievous grin on his face, as he handed me a training sword. “Ready to get your ass kicked, or are you going to make me work for it today?”

I smirked, feeling the flutter of my old spirit stirring within. “Dream on, Cassian.”

The clash of our swords sang through the air, a melody of metal that resonated with the pounding of my heart. Each strike, each parry, felt like shedding layers of fear that had cocooned me since losing my wings.

“Focus,” Cassian said, his voice a mix of sternness and encouragement. “Remember, it’s not just about strength. It’s about knowing your opponent.”

I nodded, gripping my own wooden sword a little tighter. As I lunged forward, Cassian parried easily, countering with a swift movement that I barely blocked in time. We moved in a rhythm, the clack of our swords punctuating each maneuver. My muscles remembered the dance, even if they ached from disuse. Cassian’s style was a flurry of motion, designed to overwhelm, but today he tempered his usual ferocity, giving me room to find my footing again. The physical exertion was grounding, pulling me further away from my mental ghosts.

Laughter and shouts from Mor, watching from the sidelines, filled the arena, her cheers a buoyant soundtrack to our dance of blades and as we paused for a break, Mor jogged over with a waterskin and a smirk. She threw an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tightly. “Look at you! You’re almost back to your old self,” she beamed, her pride evident.

The warmth from her compliment soaked through me, loosening some of the tightness still lingering in my chest. “Feels good to move like that again,” I admitted, allowing the truth of my words to wash over me. It did feel good—like claiming back pieces of my soul, piece by piece.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” she smiled, squeezing me close again as she handed me the waterskin. After I took a long drink, she shot me a sly glance. “Speaking of fun, have you noticed how Azriel can't seem to stay away from your side?”

Mor’s eyebrows wiggled as I coughed on the water, wiping my mouth as I tried to compose myself. “He’s just being supportive,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up.

Cassian chuckled, leaning on his sword. “Oh, he’s being supportive, all right. Haven’t seen him this glued to someone since… well, ever.”

I rolled my eyes, but the seed of awareness began to sprout in my mind. Azriel had indeed been a constant presence, his quiet strength a comfort I hadn’t realized I’d leaned on so much.

“Do you think it might be a mating bond?” Mor asked casually, too casually, as she inspected her nails.

The question halted me, the weight of the implication settling in my stomach like a stone. The mating bond was sacred, profound—was I ready for something like that? The very thought made my heart race, not just with fear but with a blossoming hope I hadn’t acknowledged until now.

“Maybe he’s just being a good friend,” I countered, but my voice lacked conviction.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “When you know, you know,” he said simply. “And it looks like you’re starting to realize something there.”

We resumed training, but his words echoed in my mind with each strike and block. Azriel’s face appeared in my thoughts, his smiles, the gentle touch of his hands, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me lately. My feelings for him, which I had shelved as mere gratitude or the simple need for companionship during recovery, seemed to be deepening into something richer, more profound.

As we finished and walked back towards the House of Wind, Mor looped her arm through mine. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” she whispered. “But don’t close your heart to the possibility of something beautiful. Azriel cares for you deeply, more than just as a friend or protector.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow that bathed the world in a soft, forgiving light. It felt symbolic, reflective of my own internal dawn. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to consider that what lay between Azriel and me could be the kind of love that songs and tales were spun from. As fear and doubt receded, leaving room for this new, tender hope, I realized that my journey of healing was also leading me down a path of rediscovering my capacity to love—not just Azriel, but myself and this new life I was slowly, bravely building.

(Mid Summer, The River House)

That evening, the dinner with the Inner Circle was held at the sprawling, candlelit table in the River House. The atmosphere was thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses, a symphony of friendship and familial bonds. The windows were thrown open, allowing the crisp, cool air of Velaris to sweep through the room, mixing with the scent of jasmine and roasted meats.

As I entered the dining room, a subtle change in my demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by the group. Rhysand was the first to catch my eye, giving me a nod of approval and a warm, welcoming smile. Amren, ever observant, watched me with her piercing gaze, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, acknowledging the shift in my spirits.

Azriel, standing slightly apart, offered me a soft, encouraging smile as I took my place next to him. His quiet strength bolstered my newfound resolve to engage more fully with those around me.

Dinner began with a lively discussion led by Feyre about a recent exhibition at the art gallery in the city. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the vibrant colors and revolutionary techniques of the new artists showcased. I listened, chiming in with my thoughts on the integration of night and day themes, which earned an approving laugh from Rhys.

As the meal continued, Cassian, true to form, began recounting one of his training escapades, embellishing the details to make his tale more dramatic. “And then, just as I was about to execute my perfectly planned maneuver, an Illyrian baby sneezed on me. Totally threw off my game!”

Laughter erupted around the table, and I found myself genuinely chuckling, the sound surprising even to me. “Only you, Cassian, could be outmaneuvered by a baby’s sneeze,” I teased, earning a round of applause and a mock bow from Cassian.

“See, she’s got jokes now! Our girl’s coming back to us,” Mor exclaimed, her face alight with joy. She reached over to squeeze my hand, her gesture warm and reassuring.

As plates were cleared and desserts were served, the conversation shifted to lighter, more personal stories. Feyre shared anecdotes about her latest painting misadventures, while Mor detailed her plans for the upcoming festival in the city. Each story, each shared laugh, felt like a stitch mending the frayed edges of my soul.

As the dinner party began to wind down in the warm, laughter-filled hall, a soft coo from the corner caught my attention. Nyx, cradled gently in Feyre’s arms, was awake and curiously peeking over her shoulder with wide, starry eyes. I felt my heart tug softly. It had been too long since I had held him, too long since I’d allowed myself to be part of these simpler, beautiful family moments.

Feyre caught my gaze and smiled, understanding immediately. “Someone wants to say hello,” she said softly, walking over with Nyx. His small hand reached out, and I couldn’t help but smile as his fingers grasped at the air between us.

“May I?” I asked, my voice a whisper of excitement mixed with a hint of uncertainty.

“Of course,” Feyre replied, carefully transferring Nyx into my arms. The baby settled against me with ease, a soft sigh escaping him as if he found comfort in my embrace. His tiny hand reached up, touching my cheek gently, an innocent gesture that felt like a reassurance of missed affection. It was as if he was saying he remembered me, that he too had felt the absence of our connection.

The moment wasn’t lost on Azriel, who watched from a short distance. His shadows flickered subtly around him, a telltale sign of his emotions stirring beneath that calm exterior. Since the conversation with Cassian and Mor earlier today, every glance, every small interaction with him seemed charged with a new, silent tension. My newly admitted feelings for him amplified each shared look, adding weight to the air between us.

As I rocked Nyx gently, my thoughts drifted to Azriel again. His presence at my side had become a constant, his support unwavering. The depth of my affection for him had crept up silently, weaving itself into the fabric of my daily life until it was indistinguishable from my other truths. I found myself stealing glances at him, each look a quiet confession of the feelings I was only beginning to allow myself to acknowledge.

Azriel eventually made his way over, his gaze softening as he looked at Nyx in my arms. “He’s missed you,” Azriel murmured, his voice barely audible over the low hum of conversation around us.

I met his eyes, feeling a flush of warmth at the intimacy of the moment. “I’ve missed him, too. Missed all of this,” I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. The way Azriel looked at me then, with such warmth and depth, made my heart skip a beat.

“Looks good on you,” he said after a pause, nodding towards Nyx.

The comment, simple and offhand, thrummed with unspoken meanings. It was a nudge against the boundaries we had maintained, a gentle probing into the new spaces of my heart that had begun to open to him.

As I handed Nyx back to Feyre, I caught Azriel’s arm gently. “Stay for a moment?” I asked, my voice hopeful, laden with the weight of all the things I hadn’t yet said.

He nodded, his usual reserve melting away for a moment as he stayed by my side, his presence a silent promise of things perhaps soon to be explored. We both knew something unspoken was shifting between us, and while neither of us was ready to dive into those waters just yet, acknowledging it—even in silence—felt like the first step toward a new horizon.

(Mid Summer, The House of Wind)

The following week, Feyre, Mor, Nesta, and I revived our "book club"—a ruse for nights filled with wine, wild discussions about our latest reads, and shared secrets under the cloak of night. As I sat curled up on a plush couch, a glass of wine in hand, surrounded by these incredible women, a profound sense of belonging enveloped me. Here, in these moments, I was safe to just be; to heal, to laugh, to grow.

The cozy nook tucked away in the House of Wind had become our sanctuary, a place where the Inner Circle’s book club convened to discuss literature, life, and everything in between. Tonight, as the flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the room, I settled into my usual spot among the plush cushions, surrounded by my closest friends.

Feyre, Nesta, and Mor lounged around me, each with a book in hand, their faces alight with anticipation for our weekly gathering. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, the air buzzing with the promise of lively conversation and shared insights.

“So, what’s everyone reading this week?” Mor asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around the circle.

Feyre held up a worn copy of her latest find, a tale of forbidden love and political intrigue. “I’m revisiting an old favorite,” she said with a smile. “It’s like catching up with an old friend.”

Nesta, with a smirk playing on her lips, produced a rather scandalous-looking novel with a provocative cover. “I’m exploring the more… sensual side of literature,” she declared, her voice dripping with amusement.

As the conversation flowed around me, I couldn’t help but chuckle at Nesta’s choice. Leave it to her to bring a little spice to our book club discussions. I was hesitant to share tonight, scared to share my feelings so blatantly, to say them out loud in a space with women who would not so soon let me forget. Tonight felt different, though, I felt stronger, able to seize this chance to share with my friends the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me.

“I’ve been reading this collection of poetry,” I began, my voice tentative at first. “It’s funny how words can capture the complexity of human emotions so beautifully.”

Mor’s eyes gleamed with interest, her grin widening. “Ah, poetry—the language of the heart,” she said, her tone teasing yet tender. “Any particular poem speaking to you?”

I hesitated, my gaze flickering to the empty spot where Azriel usually sat. His absence was keenly felt, a reminder of the unresolved tension between us. “There’s one poem that resonates with me,” I admitted, my voice growing stronger with each word. “It’s about…” I faltered, the weight of my confession heavy on my tongue.

Feyre leaned forward, her eyes warm with understanding. “About love?” she prompted gently, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine in silent support.

I nodded, the words spilling forth in a rush. “About love, and fear, and the courage to open your heart to someone—even when it scares you.”

Nesta regarded me with a thoughtful expression, her gaze piercing yet compassionate. “Love is a battlefield,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “But sometimes, the greatest victories come from facing our fears head-on.”

Mor chimed in with her trademark humor, lightening the mood with a well-timed joke. “Who knew our stoic Shadowsinger had a soft spot for you?”

Feyre smiled knowingly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Maybe it’s time to confront the shadows and see what lies beneath.”

Nesta couldn’t resist adding her own brand of wit to the conversation. “Speaking of shadows,” she said with a sly grin, “has anyone else noticed Azriel’s wingspan lately?”

We all laughed at Nesta’s comment, the tension in the room dissipating as we embraced the camaraderie of our little gathering. Despite the challenges we faced, tonight was a reminder that with the support of friends, even the darkest shadows could be chased away.

As the evening wore on, our conversation drifted from books to more personal topics, each of us sharing snippets of our lives and experiences. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a chance to peel back the layers and reveal the raw truths hidden beneath.

Nesta, ever the enigma, shared tales of her latest adventures in the human lands, her sharp wit and cunning intellect shining through with every word.

Mor, always the life of the party, regaled us with stories of her escapades in the Court of Nightmares, her laughter contagious as she recounted her misadventures.

And Feyre, with her quiet strength and unwavering compassion, offered words of wisdom and encouragement, her presence a soothing balm to our troubled souls.

As for me, I found solace in their company, the weight of my burdens eased by the warmth of their friendship. In their laughter and shared moments, I found the courage to confront my fears and embrace the possibility of a brighter future.

And as the candles burned low and the night grew late, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I would face them with the unwavering support of my sisters by my side.

The support of the entire Inner Circle was a force as tangible as the magic that coursed through our veins—a constant, steadfast presence that fortified me against the darker moments. Their belief in me, their unyielding backing, gave me strength, and little by little, I began to feel not just the shadow of the person I once was, but someone stronger, resilient, reborn from adversity.

In these gatherings, these moments of shared vulnerability and joy, I was not just healing. I was transforming—emerging not how I was before the kidnapping, but perhaps even brighter, tempered by trials and warmed by the unwavering light of the family I chose and who had chosen me in return.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The night pressed heavily around the room, its silence a thick, oppressive blanket punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of Azriel beside me. In the comfort of his proximity, sleep had finally granted me a temporary reprieve from the relentless torment of my nightmares. Yet, the peace was fragile, vulnerable to the slightest disturbance—a reality proven as a sharp, inexplicable chill sliced through the room's stagnant warmth.

The temperature plummeted, wrapping its icy fingers around my spine, jolting me awake. My eyes flicked open, instantly scanning the familiar contours of the room bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight. Shadows clung to the walls like dark, silent sentinels until one stirred coalescing into a form far too human, far too familiar.

Lyris emerged from the darkness as though materializing from my deepest fears, his presence a tangible echo of past horrors. His eyes, sharp and merciless, locked onto mine with the precision of a hunter sighting its prey. The sheer malevolence in his gaze sent a visceral shudder through me, yet it was no longer solely fear that stirred within my veins. Anger, raw and blazing, kindled within, fueling a burgeoning defiance I hadn't known I possessed.

"Thinking you could escape me?" Lyris's voice was a venomous hiss, his form inching closer with predatory grace. His smirk was twisted, a grotesque mask of sadistic anticipation.

But then, with the seamless reflexes honed by centuries of battle, Azriel was between us. His body moved with lethal precision, his hand snapping out to seize Lyris by the wrist, halting his advance with unyielding strength. "She's under my protection," Azriel snarled, his voice a dangerous, low rumble. His other hand flicked to his side, the sound of steel sliding from leather slicing through the tension as he brandished a dagger, its blade catching the moon's silver light.

Lyris recoiled slightly, his eyes darting to the blade then back to Azriel’s unwavering stare. "You think you can keep her from her fate?" he spat, struggling against Azriel's iron grip.

“Her fate is her own, and you have no part in it,” Azriel retorted, his wings unfurling menacingly. The air around us thickened with dark, swirling shadows, responding to the raw power emanating from him. In that moment, he was not just my protector but an avenging angel cloaked in night's embrace.

The room filled with a heavy, expectant silence, thick with the weight of unspoken threats. Breaking the tension, I found my voice, though it trembled with the force of my emotions. "Where are my wings, Lyris?" The question tore from me, a desperate plea tangled with a demand.

"Your wings?" he mused mockingly, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "Such a precious prize… Let's just say they're kept in a place where they await their true destiny—far from your reach.”

"Give them back," Azriel demanded, his tone lethal, a stark contrast to the deceptive calm of his posture.

Lyris's laugh was cold and chilling, like the howl of the wind outside. "You overestimate your power here, shadow singer. I could take her now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

Azriel's response was swift and deadly serious. "Try it, and it will be the last thing you do." His wings unfurled dramatically as he snatched Lyris’ wrist in a powerful grip, the span of dark membrane filling the room with a sense of otherworldly power. The shadows around him deepened, swirling in response to his anger and the protective fury that laced every syllable.

The standoff stretched, a moment suspended in time where every breath, every heartbeat was laden with potential violence. Then, with a jerk, Lyris wrenched free, stepping back into the protective shroud of darkness. “She will never be free from me," he hissed, his presence oppressive, suffocating. "And neither will you."

Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he dissolved into shadows, leaving a cold void in his wake. His final words echoed ominously, a malevolent promise hanging in the air. As the immediate threat vanished, Azriel’s demeanor shifted, the lethal warrior receding to reveal his concern. He turned to me, his intense gaze softening. “Are you alright?” His voice was now a gentle whisper, a stark contrast to the deadly thunder from moments before.

I collapsed back against the pillows, my body trembling uncontrollably. The fear wasn't just about the physical presence of Lyris—it was the emotional and psychological terror, the deep scars he had left on my soul, that overwhelmed me.

Azriel sat beside me, enveloping me in his arms, his presence a solid, reassuring force against the lingering echoes of dread. "I'm here. You're safe," he murmured against my hair, his voice a soothing balm.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, sobs wracking my body as the terror slowly ebbed away, replaced by immense fatigue. "We have to get them back, Azriel. I need to feel whole again."

His embrace tightened, a silent promise of unyielding support. "We will," he assured me quietly. "No matter what it takes, we will bring them back.” He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me as if he were scared that I might run from him. “Always, I will protect you. From him, from anyone who dares to threaten you,” he murmured into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. His wings, now gently wrapped around us, formed a cocoon that felt impenetrable.

Settling back against him, I allowed the warmth of his embrace to seep deeper into my bones, expelling the lingering chill of Lyris's visit. His presence was a bastion, within which I found not only protection but a profound sense of belonging.

As we lay back down, the room once again shrouded in the soothing silence of night, a new resolve fortified my spirit. Lyris had found me, yes, but he had not found me alone, nor would he ever. Azriel’s vow to protect me was more than a promise—it was a declaration, a sentinel set against the darkness, both within and without. As sleep beckoned once more, the shadows no longer seemed an ominous threat lurking in the corners but allies, guardians cloaked in the same darkness that wrapped around us, a shield against all that would do harm.

(Late Summer, Cassian)

The morning after Lyris's intrusion, the House of Wind seemed to hold its breath, an unspoken tension palpable in the air. Everyone had shared their worries for her, our friend who had clawed her way back from that bastard's torment. We all worried, we all loved her so greatly, enjoyed the way her presence warmed Azriel’s cold exterior and to see her fall back into that dark place she had fought her way out of, to take Azriel unknowingly with her again, it poured a dark sense of grief over the house.

But amidst the uncertainty, the deep seeded fear of losing our friend once more, there was a glimmer of light, a beacon of hope cutting through the darkness. Entering the kitchen, I was met with a scene that caught me off guard—our friend, her laughter ringing out like a bell as she shared a moment of levity with Azriel. It was a rare sight, one that stirred a mixture of surprise and quiet satisfaction within me.

Azriel, usually cloaked in shadows both literal and metaphorical, had a small, genuine smile playing at the corners of his lips. His usually guarded demeanor seemed to soften in her presence, and I couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the air between them.

Their interaction spoke volumes, a silent language of understanding and companionship that transcended words. Despite the trials they had faced, there was a sense of comfort and familiarity in their shared laughter, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found in the company of those we held dear.

As I joined them in the kitchen, a silent witness to their shared moment of joy, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the bond that had formed between them. Their friendship had weathered storms that would have broken lesser souls, and yet here they were, laughing together as if the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders.

And as I observed them, surrounded by the warmth of their laughter and the comfort of their companionship, I couldn't help but feel a surge of hope for the future. For in the bond between her and Azriel, I saw strength, resilience, and the promise of brighter days ahead.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The day had been long and daunting, with every passing moment feeling like a test of endurance. The worry from my friends was palpable, their concern etched into every glance and every word. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate their care—it was their hovering, their treating me like a fragile thing, that grated against my newfound sense of strength. But amidst it all, there was Azriel.

He stood as a steadfast anchor amidst the storm, a silent guardian who watched over me with unwavering determination. While others fretted and fussed, he remained at my side, a silent sentinel who seemed to understand without the need for words. His presence alone was enough to bolster my spirits, to remind me that I was not alone in this struggle.

Throughout the day, I found myself stealing glances at him, marveling at the depth of his care. How had I not noticed it before? His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of concern and understanding, his eyes a window to the depths of his soul. It was as if he saw straight through the facade I presented to the world, recognizing the strength within me even when I doubted it myself.

As evening descended and the weight of the day settled upon us, we retreated to the familiar sanctuary of my room. Azriel had made it his own, his presence a comforting presence in the darkness. The routine of preparing for bed had become second nature to us—changing into pajamas, brushing our teeth side by side, and slipping under the covers as Azriel performed his meticulous check of the room.

In the quiet moments before sleep claimed us, we lay in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for Azriel's unwavering support, for his steadfast presence that had seen me through the darkest of days. It was a bond forged in the crucible of adversity, a connection that defied explanation yet felt more real than anything I had ever known.

“Azriel?” I called softly into the night, my voice barely a whisper.

He turned to me, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. For a moment, we simply gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a small smile, he reached out, pulling me closer until I was nestled against his chest.

At that moment, as I lay nestled against Azriel's chest, something shifted between us—a subtle yet profound change that altered the very fabric of our connection. It was as if the air crackled with an invisible energy, a tangible tension that seemed to draw us closer together.

I felt it first, the unmistakable sensation of the mating bond snapping into place with a sudden clarity that took my breath away. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. The primal need to be close to him, to feel his presence as an extension of my own, suddenly made perfect sense.

And then, as if in response to my realization, Azriel let out a small gasp, his arms tightening around me with a fierce urgency that mirrored my own. It was a primal, instinctual reaction, as if some ancient part of him recognized the significance of this moment and refused to let me go.

In that instant, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a profound sense of clarity and understanding. We were bound together, our souls intertwined in a way that transcended the physical realm. And as I gazed into Azriel's eyes, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united by the unbreakable bond that now bound us.

"I'll protect you, ensure you are safe and happy and loved," Azriel vowed, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around me like a warm embrace, promising sanctuary in the depths of his love.

Tears welled in my eyes as his words washed over me, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm my fragile resolve. "As will I," I replied, my voice trembling with the weight of my own commitment, my heart laid bare before him in a moment of raw vulnerability.

His eyes, pools of darkness tinged with golden fire, bore into mine with a fierce intensity, piercing through the walls I had built around my heart. "Throughout all the seasons you will be mine, if that is what you want?" His voice was a whisper, yet it echoed through the chambers of my soul, stirring something deep within me that I could no longer deny.

With a trembling breath, I reached out to him, my fingers trembling as they traced the contours of his face, memorizing every line, every scar, every shadow that danced across his skin. "There is no one else I would rather share them with," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth of my words ringing out in the quiet room like a sacred vow.

And in that moment, as our souls intertwined in the golden threads of the mating bond, I felt a surge of emotion wash over me, overwhelming in its intensity. It was as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes had been lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging that I had longed for all my life.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us as we stood on the precipice of eternity. In that sacred embrace, we found refuge from the storms that had battered our souls, forging a connection that would endure the trials of time. And as we surrendered to the pull of the mating bond, our hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and devotion that echoed through the halls of the House of Wind.

Together, we would face the challenges that lay ahead, our bond a beacon of hope in the darkness, guiding us through the labyrinth of life with unwavering strength and unwavering love.

For in each other's arms, we had found our home, our sanctuary, our forever. And as the night enveloped us in its embrace, we knew that no matter what trials awaited us, we would face them together, united in a love that was destined to last for all eternity.

[PREVIOUS]

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the-iceni-bitch · 5 months

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𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖑𝖐𝖞 𝕭𝖊𝖉 𝖂𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖌𝖍

𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝟺 - 𝙽𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜.

𝙰𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢 ~ 𝙰 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗'𝚜 𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚜.

𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜

Words: ~1.6k

Relationship: nymph!Wanda Maximoff x goddess of spring!reader

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (chase kink, food in a sexy scenario, analingus, body worship), sex outdoors, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all my latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

The clouds parted and the sun rose warm in the sky as your eyes at last fluttered open after your long slumber. It was finally time, your season, the awakening of the earth and the beginning of new growth. You slowly rose to your feet and breathed deep of the fresh spring air, looking out at the frozen land that was waiting to be rejuvenated by your touch.

As you began your trek down from your mountain you smiled warmly, hyacinths and irises and peonies blooming each place your feet met the earth while new green life spread across the land in front of you. Frost and ice broke away from the ponds and rivers when the sun’s rays reached them. Birds and animals chirped and sang, filling the air with the sweet sounds of rebirth as they rose from their winter hibernation and came to greet you. A lark fluttered around you with a symphony of twitters before landing on your outstretched hand, preening its feathers as it whistled before taking flight again.

By the time you reached the foot of your mountain the land was lush and green, the air filled with the verdant fragrances of spring that made you feel so alive and powerful. You took one more deep breath and spread your arms wide, beaming when the entirety of the land sprang to life at once and basking in the sunlight.

That was when you heard it. That lovely laugh that lilted like a song through the air. The murmuring splashes and soft singing of woodland nymphs as they bathed. It was her. Your love. The only thing aside from the growth of spring that you longed for during your time of sleep. As you came upon the still pool where the maidens bathed you felt your breath catch, the sunlight glittering on the surface of the water and on the flawless skin of your beloved when she rose from the depths with a beautiful sigh.

“Wanda!” You let out a delighted laugh when she turned to face you and blushed, her ginger hair flowing around her bare shoulders and her blue eyes sparkling with playful desire. “I see your thoughts, my love. If you run, I will catch you and drink my fill of your sweet pleasure.”

“My goddess…” she stretched her lithe, naked body and giggled when you let out a low sound of want, taking a few steps away from you towards the opposite end of the pond. “If I did not run, you would not love me as you do.”

That was the only warning you had before she took off at a sprint. You chuckled to yourself before beginning to pursue her, your steps fleet across the green earth and making trees and flowers spring up in your wake. Her laughter made your grin grow even wider. She was right, you did enjoy chasing her down before you lost yourself in the heady pleasures of her soft flesh.

Rivers and hills passed the both of you by as you chased her, the land sloping towards the sea as you moved further and further from your mountain. Her laughter was like music that rang through the valleys and forests, birds and animals joining her song as they rose from their winter sleep. Deer and foxes ran with your beloved, their cheerful yips and cries echoing her joy and only making your desire for her grow deeper. She was the embodiment of life and happiness, of everything that belonged to your season. And though she ran and played the shy coquette, she was yours.

Wanda’s voice was teasing and bright as she called your name over her shoulder, the sway of her hips enticing you to run after her even faster as she bent to pluck a sweet smelling hyacinth and breathe in its scent. She leapt over a brook and squealed when she felt the tips of your fingers graze against her heel, changing direction quickly so you could not catch her. You could smell her. Above even the scent of the new flowers you could smell the warm and fertile wetness between her thighs that called to you.

Though Wanda was quick, she was not as quick as you. But then, she did not truly wish to be. She squealed with glee when your hand wrapped around her knee and pulled her to the ground, her eyes bright when she beamed at you over her shoulder when you pounced on top of her. The rest of her playful noises were muffled by your lips as you bent to give her the most luscious of kisses, the sweetness of her plump lips making you moan into her mouth as you pressed her into the warm earth.

Wanda laughed lightly when you turned her onto her back and nibbled on the tip of her nose, her fingers teasing along the curve of your waist. Out of thin air a honeycomb appeared in your outstretched hand, the two of you sharing a pair of warm smiles before you pressed the comb to her lips and let her taste the sweetness of spring. Her eyes fluttered as you smeared the precious golden syrup all over her full lips and let it slither over her tongue and down her throat. Your lips were quick to chase the drops that escaped from the corners of her mouth, your tongue flicking out to trace the viscous trails left along her soft, pale skin.

You dragged the comb down her chin and then the slender column of her neck. You wanted her nubile body covered in honey, to taste the luscious flavor of her sweat mixed with the sweet syrup. When your tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat to lap up the golden nectar she sighed, making you grin when the soft sound of her pleasure made a smattering of asters bloom around her.

“My dear, sweet love,” your lips met Wanda’s skin between each word. “My beloved nymph,” the honey dribbled over the gentle swells of her breasts, followed closely by your eager tongue. “How I miss you when I slumber.”

“My goddess, oh!” Her sudden gasp when your lips brushed against her stiffened nipple made Olympus yarrow join the aster that was springing up in an ever growing ring around the two of you. “I have missed you too, so much…”

“I know.” The fragrance of the flowers and the warmth of the sun bathed the two of you in a haze of passion, Wanda’s breaths turning shallow and quick as your mouth left a wake of fire along her tapered waist. “Sing your song for me, my nymph.”

Wanda groaned when you turned her so she was laying on her stomach, biting her lip when you pressed the honeycomb to the firm skin of her back until she could feel the thick, sticky sweetness creeping down the curve of her spine. Your mouth ardently pursued the path of honey as your beloved whimpered and moaned, your teeth sneaking past the cushions of your lips to nip at the small of her back. The comb kept traveling lower and so did your mouth, worshiping her perfect, alabastrine skin as she spread her legs for you and arched her back. When Wanda felt your fingers opening her up and the warm honey dribbling over the dusky folds of her anus she gasped, her voice rising in timbre as your tongue fluttered and lapped at her sensitive flesh.

Her voice was musical and dulcet as you continued to lavish her body with passionate attention, your fingers and tongue leaving her sex covered in the syrupy evidence of your love for her. The pitch of her voice let you know that her mind was fully consumed by the pleasure you were giving her, her existence narrowed to only you and the pleasure you gave her as more spring growth bloomed around the two of you. Your tongue pushed past her tight ring of muscle at the same time your fingers slipped inside her pretty pussy and when she cried out softly you grinned against her.

Already you could tell your love was close, her staccato breaths and the way her toes and fingers curled letting you know just how lost in her pleasure she was truly. Every breath and sound she made was pure and primal, out of her control as she offered herself to you as a loving sacrifice for the new birth of spring. There was nothing on the earth for her except you and your touch, the unending ecstasy only you were able to give her. Your tongue and lips kept moving reverently against the most secret part of her as her body wound tighter and tighter, her slick inner walls clenching around your fingers while your thumb gently circled her swollen clitoris until she truly was singing for you.

Wanda screamed your name as she fell apart at your touch. It was more lovely than the singing of the birds or the falling rain, everything about your beloved was the epitome of beauty. You drank up her bliss gluttonously, catching every drop on your tongue before draping your body over hers so your head was resting on her shoulder. A glade had grown around the two of you as you pleasured your nymph, poppies and anemones surrounding a sparkling pond as the shade of a fig tree kept you cool. She rolled over and let her eyes flutter as you ran your fingers through her silky hair, her own fingers trailing along your side until she was tickling your hip.

“My goddess,” Wanda purred and bit her lip as she gazed at you with adoration. “It is your season, my beloved. Let me worship at your altar so you can give the earth new life.”

#natalie writes #monstrous mayhem #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #wanda maximoff #nymph!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut #female reader #goddess!reader #marvel #marvel au #eighteen plus

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gayandfairycore · 1 year

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Marmalade and mischievous mornings

Summary: spending a morning in 35 portland row, regular shenanigans ensue between the four of you.

Word count: roughly 800 words(?)

A/n: this is my first time writing for lockwood and co. So I hope I did the characters justice! Feedback is muchly appreciated but please do be kind, This is not proof read.

The smell of toast, and marmalade filled the little kitchen at 35 Portland row, the comforting yellow light of the kitchen casted a warm shadow over the inhabitants of the house. The thinking cloth white, and yet covered in inky black doodles, and words scrawled messily down on the white tablecloth. the biscuit crumbs that seeming always found home on the table had began to make your arms itch as you sat next to your friends around the table, a warm cup of tea in hand.

As an ever drying pen is left uncapped, and discarded. The soft linen curtains blew in the mid morning air a conversation started to arise between the group of four. The conversation went a little something like George rattling on about the case they had just completed, Lucy calling the fact that it was clearly was not a low level type one and was actually very strong type two and that George was getting rusty on his research skills.

you couldn’t help finding it a bit funny that everyone around the table were in their pjs having a slow morning like usual to rejuvenate themselves after exhausting nightly escapades.

George had yet again refused to wear trousers, Lockwood a plain white tshirt on, as opposed to his regular suit and cut tie. Lucy an oversized shirt, and some comfy shorts, you having adorned something quite similar to Lucy. opting for a band shirt, pj shorts and some fluffy socks. It didn’t look like only last night three out of the four had almost died, in fact it looked as if the four of them had just had a slumber party.

Sadly it wasn’t a slumber party, instead they spent majority of last night running for their lives in a panic, away from a powerful ghost that they were unprepared to face. so majority of the group were surely going to be aching for the next few days.

munching down on a piece of toast and sipping your tea, the warmth from the chipped glass radiated to your hands, the steam from your tea momentarily being inhaled. a soft smile graced your features as you sipped your tea, Lucy and George’s bicker had yet to be stifled.

When you joined the agency Lockwood had actually warned you to usually just tune them out, that’s what he did. It made you laugh originally but dwelling on it now you’ve decided tonight you’ll pull him aside an ask him to teach you to tune out the friendly bickering.

“clearly you’re just a bit rubbish of a ghost hunter then!” George yelled, clutching his biscuit as he swung out his hands, shrugging his shoulders.

“Rubbish?!” Lucy exclaimed in faux outrage, a piece of buttered toast hanging from her mouth as she spoke the gravity of her exclamation declining as it came out muffled by the aforementioned toast.

“I am not rubbish, george karim! how many times have I come to your rescue? Hmm. You wouldn’t call me rubbish then!” The brunette persisted pointing her half eaten toast piece at him her eyes glared at the boy.

Knocking the piece of toast away from himself, “that’s different!” He retorted as slumped back in his chair slightly coy smile adorning his features.

“Oh is it?” The brunette raised her eyebrows her voice no longer yelling, George gulped quietly slumping impossibly deeper in his chair at the girl, her voice lowered in a warning. The same warning voice she used when they had first met. Watching the scene play out from across the table, toothy grin on your face as you admired your friends, your eyes caught Lockwoods. majority of his face hidden behind a crumpled and tea stained newspaper.

You watched as he shook his head at his friends antics, chuckling into his tea cup. Your eyes meeting in a silent melancholic comforting moment.

your attention only moving when you heard your name called, ”cmon y/n back me up!” Lucy’s expecting gaze told you that you had missed something.

Your eyes darting between the pair nodding unsurely and feigning confidence as you replied with an “oh yeah, absolutely what she said.” Before tilting your head in subtle exasperation taking a large sip of your tea, to mask your embarrassment of admiring Lockwood so much that you had managed to tune out the pair.

“No! Y/n how could you!” George exclaimed mock outraged taking over his expression as he slumped back in defeat, Lucy’s laughter filled the air, a lost expression passed over your face as you glanced between the pair, Lockwood pulling you into his side to answer your unspoken question,

“she just stated she’s the better researcher than him, and that anyone would agree she could do it with her eyes closed.” Lockwood smirked stifling a chuckle as he let go of your arms “and you just agreed with her”

The boy smirked, flicking out his news paper with flourish.

Your mouth formed a ‘o’ at the revelation, before a cocky smirk overtook your face “I mean George may be a the best researcher- No offence, Luce-” you pause, looking at their confused and impatient faces with a coy smile hands in in the air as you point to them.

“But what I want to know is, whose the best ghost hunter?” Leaning back in your chair you watch as chaos ensues clasping your hands tigether like you were an old villain

“I’m sorry?”

“Excuse me?”

Both Lucy and Lockwood exclaim, the latter dropping his news paper onto the table and the force shaking and spilling his tea.

A silence formed over the room, as George watched as his competitive friends began to turn on eachother in friendly competition.

“No offence Lockwood, you may be a prodigy and all that but it’s got to go to Lucy!”

“Y/n!” Lockwood exclaimed his eyes darting wildly as his mouth agape

George reclining in his seat as he stifles a laugh lockwood whirling around to face the boy attempting to look serious and upset.

“George- do you think this is funny?!” The ebony haired boy exclaims, as a chuckle breaks midway through his facade as he speaks.

A mischievous grin adorns George’s face as he replies “I do actually I think this is very funny!”

“Lucy cmon back me up here!?” Lockwood pleads his hands together in a prayer eyebrows raised

“Sorry Lockwood!” Lucy retorts “But y/ns right I’m just the superior ghost hunter.” The girl replies straightening her posture and flipping up imaginary jacket cuffs.

A plan begins to formulate in lockwoods mind “Well if it’s like that then” he states before pulling you into him and tickling you

Between bouts of giggles you exclaim “lockwood! Lockwood! No! Oh cmon!”

His fingers never stopping their assault at your side no matter how much you try to wriggle away, he only stops tickling you to bargain

“Say that I’m the best ghost hunter you’ve ever known!”

Struggling to breathe through your laughter you chuckle out an estranged “No!”

Lockwood smirks “Alright then.”

His fingers moving at your sides painfully fast breathlessness taking over you, as tears well in your eyes loud laughter fills the kitchen.

pouting your lips you exclaim in defeat“okay! Okay! You’re the best ghost hunter I’ve ever known!”

Lockwood stops his assault at your sides smiling and slinging his arm over your shoulder before he taunts the brown eyed girl

“see Luce, there’s only one person here whose the best ghost hunter-“ mischievous looks are shared between you, George, and Lucy. As you move yourself from under the arms of the boy.

Lucy exclaims a “sorry Lockwood! But it’s not you, george get him!” And with her exclamation both you and george begin to ambush the boy flinging your body onto his back watching as he loses his footing. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck like he was giving you a piggyback.

“Ah- uh oh!” His yells voice high pitched and shrieking laughter fills the room despite the mess that had somehow accumulated over the time you had been in a tickle fight.

The spilled tea over old newspaper clippings a spilled tub Or marmalade staining the thinking cloth

As the sound of a camera flashing momentarily blinds both you and Lockwood as you both come toppling down the wooden floor your body above lockwoods.

Bashfulness blooms in your chest “oh uh sorry-“

Lockwoods narrows his eyes in disappointment “No it’s quite alright” he murmurs. Moving to sit up on his elbows a look of surprise takes over his face as you turn to look behind you

Your two friends about to dog pile you both both you and Lockwood exclaim almost at the same time “George, Lucy you don’t have to do this!”

The two share a glance at eachother before flinging their bodies onto you both collectively collapsing your attempts to get up. groans leaving you and Lockwood at the added weight.

#Lockwood and co #Lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #Lucy carlyle x reader #george karim #George karim x reader #Lockwood and co fluff #x reader

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rosemaze-reveries · 2 months

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cassia crushing on you hcs

⚠ typical cassia-isms, ie. stalking, obsessive behavior, murder attempts (?) ⚠ reader ≠ chief

You’re an anomaly in Cassia’s quest to hunt down the "fairest one of all" — like Chief, it’s not necessarily your beauty that’s captivated her, but your scent is irresistible just the same. She can’t place the reason. Not that that’s important. All Cassia knows is that it's addicting and she wants more of it.

Typically, Cassia would say that the potency of her perfumes is directly proportional to how beautiful she considers their inspirations. Her fixation on you runs a little deeper than visual attraction, and yet the richness in your scent rivals all her previous creations; she's eager to add this novelty to her lineup.

She collects pieces of you when you're careless enough to leave them behind. A lock of hair from your brush. Your favorite pen. Your fork after dessert. A shirt, especially if it's still warm—your scent is strongest then. Some are to use in perfumes, others are for personal safekeeping.

For a long time, she mistakes her obsession to begin and end with your scent. People rarely serve her any other purpose. She has tried to put you to sleep through various means to obtain more of it: a poisoned comb, a sedative perfume, helping you into a corset strung too tight. Chief always steps in before she gets too far. Now, you're familiar enough with her habits to evade them.

If Cassia is ever frustrated with you slipping away, she never shows it. She continues to seek you out, even for casual conversation, as if her attempts to 'collect' you never happened.

Occasionally she expresses concern for your wellbeing — your scent reveals a lot to her — and she'll offer you rejuvenating perfumes when you're feeling under the weather. You might have trouble making sense of her intentions knowing she has a track record of spritzing people unconscious.

Does she genuinely hold an interest in you as a person? Or are you just imagining things? It's odd for Cassia to be so taken by someone. Even odder for her to drag it out this long. Once she sets her eyes on something, rarely would anyone be successful in prying it from her fingers. You convince yourself it's because you have Chief's protection.

Cassia's mindset is simple: she makes fragrances to bring herself salvation. She doesn't murder in cold blood -- her "inspirations" fall into an eternal slumber, wholly unaware of what's happening to them, and their sacrifice will go on to save someone else. It's never done out of malice.

She reasons that keeping you around might give her the same salvation she's been longing for -- you are her "immortal fragrance," even if not in the form she expected. She still makes perfumes using your hair, if you let her, but also finds deep gratification in your physical presence. She likes burrowing her face into your neck, taking deep inhales for the slow pleasure of it.

Cassia isn't an experienced lover, as she's kept an icy distance from most in her life. She doesn't have much self-restraint when she wants something, though, so she becomes intimate very quickly.

#the world is cassia's dollhouse and we're just here to look pretty for her #🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣#path to nowhere #ptn imagines #ptn cassia #cassia x reader #ptn x reader

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teyamskxawng · 1 year

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In Heat [III]

Lo'ak Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Previously: Chapter I, Chapter II,

Keep reading: Chapter IV

The rundown: It proves to be an impossible task for Lo'ak to keep his distance from you while you're in heat, despite what he knows is morally right.

Warnings: 18+ content, smut-ish??, language, a lil angsty but not too much bc i hate writing angst, these two are almost painfully oblivious i'm sorry, characters are aged up, minors do not interact!! please

WC: 7.6k

After dutifully consuming the savory and surprisingly therapeutic soup and medicine that Kiri had prepared for you, you found yourself drifting into a deep and restful slumber.

It was the first time in ages you had managed to enjoy some truly restorative sleep. However, your dreams were an entirely different story. Despite the peaceful repose, your dreamscape was filled with vivid images of your best friend committing unspeakable acts upon your unsuspecting self.

You awoke from the dreams embarrassingly damp and unsatisfied. As a silver lining, however, you discovered that the once unbearable pain of your heat had subsided quite significantly.

The pesky pressure in your core still lingered, though it was more like a nagging nuisance rather than a crippling torment. It no longer dictated your existence, no longer forced you to spend each waking moment curled up on the floor in a fetal position with your hands between your legs.

Feeling rejuvenated and daring in your newfound strength, you resolved to throw all caution to the wind and seize the day. You decided to rejoin the land of the living, starting by joining the rest of your people for breakfast.

After a quick but very much necessary wash using some of the rainfall that you'd harvested in a pitcher behind your home, you finally made your way towards the heart of Hometree.

As you arrived, you marveled at the assortment of fruits and meats meticulously arranged for the clan's enjoyment. Though you had no qualms about mingling with your fellow clanspeople during your heat, you couldn't quite bring yourself to approach Lo'ak and his family, given the awkward circumstance you found yourself in.

With this in mind, you carefully selected a variety of fruits to fill your platter, diligently avoiding the yovo fruit as per Kiri's advice.

Scanning the area, you spotted an open space next to your good friend Näoo, a talented craftswoman-in-training who was a year your junior. You wasted no time in claiming your seat among the lively feast.

Upon noticing your presence, Näoo's eyes widened in surprise. You hadn't seen your friend in nearly four days, which honestly felt like an eternity.

Although life had taken the two of you on diverging paths–you training as a steadfast warrior and Näoo honing her skills as an artisan for the clan–you never let a day slip by without sharing at least one meal together. These cherished moments allowed you both to catch up on each other's lives and reminisce about your idyllic childhood memories.

“y/n! Where in Eywa's sake have you been?!" Näoo shrieked with such intensity that it caused several of the clan's elders to send grumpy, disapproving glances in your direction.

You couldn't help but snicker at your friend's unbridled excitement. With an amused smile, you gently covered the girl's mouth with your hand, hoping to silence her enthusiastic tirade.

Stubbornly undeterred, Näoo continued her animated gibberish into your palm, demonstrating her uncanny ability to maintain her energy even under such strenuous circumstances. After a few moments, she finally managed to pry your hand away from her mouth, rewarding you with a beaming grin.

"Well?" She eagerly prodded.

Näoo resolved to tone down her excitement, focusing her attention on the changes that she noticed in your appearance. Your darkened eyes and dilated pupils immediately caught her attention, and her expression shifted to one of mild confusion. Then, as if struck by a bolt of realization, her eyes widened in a comically exaggerated manner.

"You've started your first heat!" Näoo exclaimed in a far-too-loud tone, dripping with a mixture of shock and amusement.

You nearly rolled your eyes at the way everyone in your life seemed to possess some sort of innate heat-detection ability.

With an exasperated sigh, you pleaded, "Keep it down, please, yawne? I'd really appreciate it if the entire clan didn't become intimately familiar with my personal business, thank you very much."

Näoo's eyes twinkled with glee as she energetically bobbed her head in agreement, her hand instinctively coming up to stifle a giggle that threatened to escape her lips. However, the fleeting moment of composure only lasted a mere two seconds before the girl unleashed an avalanche of curious inquiries upon you.

"Okay, but when did it start? And how did you know? How are you even coping right now?"

With an empathetic and rather exaggerated air of concern, she mimicked Kiri's earlier gesture, extending her hand out and placing it firmly on your forehead.

This prompted you to react with an annoyed hiss, instinctively jerking your head away from the younger girl's intrusive touch.

"y/n, you're burning up," she declared with genuine concern. "Have you gone to the Tsahìk for healing yet, or do I have to drag you there myself? Have you told Neytiri??"

Growing aware of Näoo's unrivaled enthusiasm, you took it upon yourself to gently seize the girl's forearms, applying enough pressure to quell her eager advances. "Maybe," you began with a hint of sarcasm, "if you could find it in yourself to take a breath—just one teeny, tiny breath—I might actually have a fighting chance at answering one of your questions."

Amused by your quip, Näoo broke out into a fit of laughter. "Sorry, I'm sorry! It's just that none of my friends have experienced their heat yet, and I really need to be prepared for mine!"

You shook your head, amused by the girl's enthusiasm.

"Well," you began, taking a moment to compose yourself, "on the first day of my heat, I genuinely thought I was knocking on death's door, so..."

You almost laughed in Näoo's face at her expression of pure terror.

In all honesty, your potential demise could have resulted from one of two causes: the excruciating pain or the utterly mortifying way you had completely embarrassed yourself in front of Lo'ak. But, of course, those details were beside the point and certainly not something Näoo needed to know.

The last thing you needed was for her to have even more ammunition to tease you about your friendship with Lo'ak. Eywa knew the girl had already poked fun at you more than enough, insisting that it was impossible for two friends like you and Lo'ak not to have succumbed to romantic feelings for one another by now.

"Is the pain really that bad?" Näoo inquired, her features contorted by utter despair.

You paused for a moment, tilting your head as you pondered your response. "I'm sure it differs from person to person. I also didn't take any medicine for the pain until yesterday, so I think it was mostly my own doing."

Näoo, completely taken aback by your sheer stubbornness, gave your shoulder a playful but firm shove. "y/n, you idiot! It didn't occur to you to get help from someone before that? Not even…" Näoo trailed off, glancing warily over both shoulders to ensure that no one of interest was within earshot.

Satisfied with the apparent lack of eavesdroppers, Näoo leaned in closer to you, lowering her voice to an almost conspiratorial whisper. "Not even a certain four-fingered boy whose name happens to rhyme with Ko'ak?"

You cursed the way your breath hitched at the mere mention of the boy, even if it was veiled through an indirect description.

Over the past few days, it had become evident to you that feigning nonchalance was not at all your forte, so Näoo was quick to gasp in shock, dramatically bringing her hand up to cover her gaping mouth.

You, on the other hand, protested vehemently, "I didn't even say anything!"

Despite your objections, you could feel your heart pounding rapidly in your chest, much to your chagrin.

Näoo, not one to miss a beat, latched onto your hands with a nearly screeching intensity, exclaiming, "Exactly!"

You rolled your eyes, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the relentless girl in front of you.

Yet, Näoo continued her barrage of increasingly mortifying inquiries. "So, does that mean you guys…" Näoo's voice tapered off as she lifted her hands and gestured a crude imitation of what you could only assume was meant to be sexual in nature.

"Can you just... act normal for once?!" You snapped, swatting Näoo's hands away with force.

You could feel your face turning a deep shade of purple as images of you and Lo'ak filled your thoughts, images that went even further than your recent encounter. You pictured Lo'ak pressing you onto the forest floor, taking his time to completely and utterly ruin you, his lips leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, all the way down to your–

You seemed blissfully unaware of the eerie silence that enveloped Näoo as soon as she caught sight of the boy in question.

He was hurriedly making his way towards the pair of you, though his gaze was firmly fixed on you. In fact, you remained completely oblivious to his presence until your ears suddenly perked up, your heightened sense of smell picking up Lo'ak's unmistakable scent from an incredibly close distance.

Upon arriving for breakfast with his siblings, Lo'ak immediately noticed you from across the room, and his brow furrowed in confusion as to why you were out in public.

You needed rest, as Kiri had adamantly asserted. Even more so, you weren't yourself at the moment–it was as if your mind wasn't under your control. Lo'ak knew that having his best friend out and about, unguarded, was a stupid decision. It wasn't safe. That was all there was to it.

Struggling to suppress the possessive part of him that didn't want anyone, especially any other guys in the clan, to see you in your current vulnerable and lust-ridden state, Lo'ak forced his primary concern to be your safety.

He figured you would be much safer back in your home, surrounded by the comforting solitude of your familiar surroundings. So, he resolved that he would step up and be the one to make sure you retreated to that safe haven.

At your lack of a verbal response, Lo'ak decided to take a gentler approach.

He carefully shook your shoulder and tried once more to hold your gaze. "y/n, can we talk for a second?" he asked hesitantly, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

While posing the question, he casted a sideways glance at Näoo, who he knew happened to be one of your closest friends.

He hoped that she would register his unspoken plea for some privacy. Näoo, however, seemed utterly captivated by the ongoing drama playing out right in front of her, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

Exasperated, Lo'ak added with an unmistakable bluntness, "Alone?"

Enveloped in a delightful mixture of lightness and tingling sensations from Lo'ak's tender touch and close proximity, you could merely offer a languid nod. Lo'ak, taking the initiative, gently tugged you by the arm, guiding you away.

Oddly enough, despite mentioning his desire to speak with you, Lo'ak remained tight-lipped.

Instead, he had successfully escorted you across the entire expanse of the dining area and back over the pathway that led to your humble abode, all without uttering a single word.

"Why are we going back here?" Your curiosity was piqued, but a large part of you longed for some private time with Lo'ak.

However, the more sensible side of you, buried underneath your lustful fog, was annoyed that you were just manhandled away from the meal you were sharing with your friend.

Lo'ak remained silent, his eyes fixated on the path before him as he guided you toward your home, holding your arm with a tender yet firm grip. Your heart thrummed at his silence, an involuntary breathy noise sounding from the back of your throat.

Capturing Lo'ak's attention by gently squeezing his arm, you questioned, "Lo'ak?"

Lo'ak's emotions were a swirling whirlpool of frustration, with jealousy, guilt, annoyance, and arousal all bubbling within his chest. Exhaling a heavy sigh, he finally spoke. "What were you doing out there? You're still in heat, y/n. It's not safe."

You couldn't help the flush that took over your entire body at Lo'ak's caring and protective energy wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Still, you found yourself confused as to why he would think you were unsafe out there when all you were doing was eating with your friend. The furrowing of your brow betrayed your confusion as you uttered, "Not safe?"

Lo'ak released an exasperated sigh, fully aware that he was venturing into overly-protective territory. However, there was no way he would admit that in front of you now. With a stoic face, he simply replied, "Yes."

His one-word answer didn't satisfy your curiosity, and you persistently questioned, "Why?" Your concern escalated as your grip around his arm tightened, your nails threateningly digging into his skin.

Fumbling for a credible explanation, Lo'ak began unconvincingly, "Because, y/n. Kiri said it herself; you need rest. And you're still–you know." He trailed off, praying to Eywa that you understood what he was trying to say so that he didn't have to say it again.

You rolled your eyes dramatically, your grip on his arm slowly losing strength as you finally released him from your grasp.

"I was doing perfectly fine out there with Näoo, Lo'ak. We were just talking; I hadn't seen her in days."

With that, you decisively crossed your arms in a clear display of defiance, your stubbornness shining through even amidst the trials and tribulations of your heat.

Under different circumstances, Lo'ak might have found himself chuckling at your unyielding nature, but at this moment, he couldn't shake the feeling that you were completely missing the point. Trying to enlighten you, he simply stated, "Yeah, well, Näoo is a girl."

To his surprise, you burst out into a small, amused laugh. "And the sky is blue, Lo'ak. You're not making any sense at all."

With a groan, Lo'ak dropped his head and swept a hand over his face in exasperation.

"Look," he started, hoping to make a serious point, "some guys out there wouldn't think twice about taking advantage of you in the state that you're in right now. Even I should've stopped when you came to me the other day." He shook his head, remembering the situation vividly. "You were hurting, clearly, but it was so wrong of me to… you were still…"

Lo'ak's voice tapered off, his mind clearly tormented by the recollection of that initial day of your heat. The memory hovered in the air like a stubborn ghost, unwilling to leave.

You, however, were quick to react, shaking your head in vehement defiance. You adamantly moved to reassure him, eager to set the record straight.

"No," you protested, "I asked you to. I was practically begging, Lo'ak. I knew exactly what I was asking for."

Lo'ak's eyes suddenly grew wide in sheer disbelief upon hearing your admission.

He found himself mulling over your words, trying to decipher their hidden meaning, if there even was one. What could you possibly mean by that? His attempts at reading between the lines were futile, only serving to fuel his doubt further. It was all so confusing to him.

His thoughts spinning, Lo'ak couldn't help but question the version of you before him.

Was he speaking to the you that the realm of your heat had altered? Or was this the you that he knew–the one who cared for him in a friendly, best-friend kind of way?

Time was of the essence, yet it stood stubbornly still, refusing to reveal the truth.

He shook his head, adamant on believing that until you finished your heat, he couldn't take your actions or words at face value. Your mind wasn't entirely your own, and he had to accept that for now.

He explained as much to you. "It doesn't matter. That wasn't you, not really. What happened that day shouldn't have happened at all."

You exhaled unsteadily, trying to cope with the sting caused by Lo'ak's harsh words. "Stop," you plead. "Don't say that. I know what I said."

Lo'ak clenched his jaw, biting his lip nervously, summoning every ounce of strength to keep from succumbing to your impassioned plea. "If you still feel that way after your heat is over, you'll have to tell me yourself then, but–"

You, refusing to let him finish, interrupted and stepped back into his personal territory. You reached out for his arm yet again—a gesture that had grown familiar and comforting between you two.

With a defiant shake of your head, you desperately tried to persuade yourself that you were misinterpreting his message. "Lo'ak, no," your voice cracked, laden with a heart-wrenching vulnerability that pierced Lo'ak, causing him to mentally curse.

He was sure he could feel his own heart fracture under the weight of your pain.

In that agonizing moment, he forced himself to wrench his arm from your delicate grasp, putting a sizable gap between him and you as he took a calculated step backward, hoping the added distance would help him retain his composure.

"I'm serious, y/n," he asserts with conviction, "I'm not touching you."

Despite his protestations, the meager foot of separation between you two rapidly diminished as you inched closer. You cornered Lo'ak further into your home, against the edge of your table, leaving him with nowhere to go.

You were dripping with desire, and Lo'ak was almost sure that his own longing was reflected on his face.

"But you want to, don't you?" You inquired with a hopeful gleam in your eye.

Your gaze shamelessly drifted downward, focusing on the unmistakable bulge within Lo'ak's loincloth. Suppressing a grin, your lower lip vanished momentarily between your razor-sharp canines. You extended a scorching hand towards Lo'ak's chest, trailing a solitary finger downwards in a languid, tantalizing motion.

When you met the edge of his loincloth, a shaky exhale left your lips. "You do." you breathed.

Lo'ak's senses abruptly came to life, jolting him out of his daze, an internal voice screaming at him that he needed to get out of there–that the person in front of him wasn't you.

Instantly, he stepped to the side away from your wandering hand. His head hung low and he felt a strange mixture of embarrassment and shame, wondering how he ever lost control of himself like that.

He knew he needed to leave, and quickly, before he did something really, really dumb. He managed to blurt out, "I'll be back to check on you in a few hours. I'll bring lunch," as he finally found the resolve to make his way toward the door.

Meanwhile, you were livid. "Lo'ak! You're such a–!" but the words just seemed to disappear into thin air as you struggled to find an expression strong enough to convey your seething rage.

In your anger, you kicked the nearby table with a ferocity that could've shaken the heavens, and with bared fangs, you let out a furious hiss.

Your emotions consumed you as hot, angry tears began to pool in your eyes. You cursed the hormonal fury of your heat for turning you into a red-hot, emotional train wreck.

Standing at the entryway, Lo'ak couldn't help but shake his head in disbelief, attempting to persuade not only you but also himself that the course you both were embarking on was dangerously stupid.

As a last-ditch effort to prevent Lo'ak from abandoning you, you sneered at his retreating back and spit out, "Fine, go ahead and leave! I'll just go fuck someone else, then!"

Much to your satisfaction, Lo'ak froze in place, the muscles in his back going stiff as his hand hesitated on the exit flap.

You continued, unabashedly pushing him further. "I bet Teon'i wouldn't mind having me. Maybe Oa—he's really handsome. Or maybe I'll go find Neteyam.

You were definitely pushing it with that final comment.

Although you knew it was all entirely a lie, Lo'ak feared the unsettling truth within your words. His jaw tightened, and he released a self-deprecating snort, even though there was nothing remotely funny about your ultimatum.

In a low, tense voice, he said, "You're being childish."

Not one to back down easily, you retorted with a shout, "And you're being a coward! I'm in the middle of my first heat, for Eywa's sake! I'm not supposed to face it alone!"

The silence that descended upon the two of you was so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife. You knew you were desperate when you had to resort to begging. "Just stay. Please," you implored, your voice thin with urgency.

Lo'ak, taken aback by your plea, noticed how your voice quivered as if you were on the verge of tears. It made his stomach churn with guilt. Unable to shake the image of you, alone and in tears, he finally looked into your eyes, which, as he suspected, were misty with unshed tears. Your ears lay flat against your skull, emphasizing your vulnerable state.

A sense of responsibility washed over Lo'ak, realizing that he'd be nothing short of evil if he abandoned you like that.

With a sigh of resignation, he gave in to your pleas. "Fine," he muttered begrudgingly. "But I'm not touching you. I won't."

Elated by his response, you nodded your head with a bit too much enthusiasm. A wide, contagious smile cracked your previously somber expression, shining a light in your tearful eyes.

Despite Lo'ak's attempt to maintain his facade of indignation as he shook his head at you, he couldn't help but feel a twitch in his lips that lifted into the briefest hint of a smile.

He knew, deep down, that you could likely charm him into anything you desired. He was so wrapped around your finger; it was actually kind of scary.

An amused grin overtook your face as you teasingly remarked, "My Eywa, you're so submissive." Your observation yanked Lo'ak out of his thoughts and back to reality. Indignantly, he muttered, "I'm not submissive."

Because he wasn't. Not usually, at least. You just happened to bring the worst out of him, making him all dutiful and obedient whenever you'd look at him with those eyes.

With a dismissive shake of his head, Lo'ak walked to the opposite side of the room, eager to distance himself from the conversation.

Spotting the same spear you had been sharpening the other night, Lo'ak snatched it up and unsheathed his own dagger. He started sharpening the spear with an air of determination, hoping the action would put an end to your shameless accusations.

His hopes were futile, however, as you snickered in response. In no time, you evolved into a full-blown, doubled-over, hand-on-mouth kind of laughter.

Between gasping breaths, you managed to say, "You really are! Your submissive ass just sat down and started sharpening my spear for me!"

You pointed an accusatory finger at the spear in question, causing Lo'ak to pause and stare at the object as if he'd been caught red-handed.

Feeling the weight of the evidence against him, Lo'ak offered a weak defense, "It was the first thing I saw."

Smirking, you shook your head playfully as you teased, "Your submissive instincts must be strong."

Lo'ak snorted at your comment before replying, "Shut up. I just wanted something to do."

Your ears stood to attention upon hearing his response. Your mind, still clouded by desire, processed your friend's words in a way that twisted the initial meaning.

You muttered under your breath, yet audibly enough for Lo'ak to catch the misinterpreted remark, "I'm right here…"

At that, Lo'ak's tail abruptly curled into a tight c behind him, clearly indicating his surprise at your interpretation of his comment.

Your cheeks flushed at your lack of self-restraint. You had been diligently working to suppress the side of yourself that was prone to being engulfed in the grips of desire during your heat. You already made a fool of yourself just a few minutes ago, begging Lo'ak to stay with you.

"Sorry," you muttered, quickly averting your eyes from Lo'ak as a wave of mortification washed over you.

"'S okay." Lo'ak simply replied, but even as the words left his mouth, you could already sense the truth–things were anything but okay, especially for you.

You thought you could get through the day without your morning go at it, without letting your fingers give in to the tempting invitation of a sweet release immediately after waking up. Not only had you avoided giving in to your lust-filled urges, but you hadn't taken your medicine, opting to eat in the center of Hometree instead.

Those decisions ended up backfiring, as both lapses in your judgment only intensified the sensations invoked by your current predicament.

You found yourself wrestling to suppress the overwhelming urge as you absentmindedly reached for a smaller spear to sharpen alongside Lo'ak.

Though your hands were now occupied, your eyes found their way back to the boy sitting across from you. Lo'ak, wholly absorbed in his own task, had furrowed brows reflecting his deep concentration. He was hunched over the spear, the flickering fire casting dark shadows along the contours of his body, along the curves of his muscular frame. The image of a mighty warrior lost in his craft.

Suddenly, you heard an unexpected snap–the kind of sound that interrupts an all-consuming daydream.

Startled, you glanced down to realize that during your momentary reverie, you had focused your sharpening efforts solely on one spot, causing the spear's entire tip to break off and fall to the ground in front of you.

Shocked by your clumsiness, you stared blankly at the jagged piece of wood helplessly laying near your feet. Your brain scrambled to catch up. And yet, all you could think about was Lo'ak.

By this time, Lo'ak had noticed your distress and the snap that brought him back to reality. His expression now one of concern, he called out your name and lowered his gaze, attempting to meet your eyes.

"Yeah?" you hesitantly replied, still shaken.

Eager to brush off the embarrassing incident, you shook your head to snap out of your daze and began to hurriedly gather the broken shards of wood from the ground.

Lo'ak visibly relaxed at your verbal response, shaking his head in amusement at what he assumed was just you being your usual clumsy self.

"Got a little too excited there?" He teased, a playful glint in his eyes, his fangs making a brief appearance in his broad grin.

You felt your self-control wavering dangerously; that sultry voice, coupled with his infectious smile, was enough to make you snap–just like the spear you once held in your hands. You were well aware of your weakness, so you grabbed the opportunity to find your escape.

Silently cursing your racing heart, you clumsily rose to your feet, swaying a tad as you did so.

Feigning fatigue, you announced, "I think I'm gonna lay down for a bit. Tired."

Lo'ak's body shifted towards you, his previous mirth replaced by palpable concern. "Are you good?"

No, you wanted to respond. You were absolutely not good.

But you had vowed to maintain your composure in Lo'ak's presence. You had promised him that you'd behave appropriately, ensuring he would remain by your side. So, with a shaky breath, you lied. Nodding your head determinedly and delivering a strained, unconvincing smile, you tried to reassure him.

"Yeah, it's just–I haven't been sleeping well lately. It'll only be a quick nap."

Lo'ak's sharp features softened as he considered your words, only partially convinced by your façade. Nonetheless, he offered a nod.

"Okay. I'll stay here then."

You nodded, taking a deep breath before pivoting on your heel and squeezing your eyes shut in exasperation. You were so, so fucked.

Now you had to go lie on your sleeping mat and pretend you weren't a horny, desperate, aching mess.

You ambled across the room, stepping cautiously yet deliberately as if walking on eggshells. Your heightened senses made you acutely aware of Lo'ak's piercing gaze following your every move. It felt like you were being branded by the sun, and your senses tingled as if to echo your desperation.

Making your way to your sleeping mat, you took extra precautions to keep your back to Lo'ak. You knew very well that if your eyes met again, any last remaining shreds of your self-control would vanish instantly.

Positioning yourself on your mat, you laid on your side, your body tensed in anticipation. Under the pretense of finding a comfortable spot, you placed one hand beneath your head as a makeshift pillow while the other balled into a tight, quivering fist that you hugged against your chest.

You kept your eyes open wide. If you dared to close them, you'd be met with all the sinful things you wanted Lo'ak to do to you, as usual.

No more than five minutes later, you found yourself unable to hold out any longer.

Your heart pounded furiously in your chest as if it wanted to burst free, and your entire being felt like it was engulfed in a blazing inferno. The relentless throbbing between your legs had you hopelessly disoriented. You could barely resist the urge to reach down and tend to your needs, to alleviate the unbearable tension and discomfort. You didn't even care that Lo'ak was in the same room as you. This entire predicament was his fault, anyways.

You genuinely contemplated just reaching down and going at it right then and there without saying a word to Lo'ak. But instead of acting on that impulsive notion, you opted to address him instead.

"Lo'ak?" you inquired tentatively.

Lo'ak had been meticulously sharpening your weapons. So absorbed in his task, he was only half-aware of the fact that he was now on his fifth one. But the sound of your voice tore him from his trance-like focus.

"Yeah?" he asked, caught off guard.

He was under the impression that you had fallen asleep. By all appearances, you were fast asleep–laying perfectly still and silent since the moment you had collapsed onto the mat. Lo'ak was entirely unprepared for what you said next.

"Can you face the other way?"

His mind struggled to comprehend the request, rendering him speechless in bewilderment.

Sensing his confusion, you elaborated, a note of desperation creeping into your voice, "Please?"

Lo'ak, still trying to make sense of the situation, stared at you in confusion. Despite initiating the conversation, you maintained your previous position–motionless on your side, your back turned toward him.

Slowly, he nodded his head, a futile gesture considering you were in no position to witness the action. "Yeah," he agreed, albeit hesitantly. Lo'ak mulled over your odd request before finally adding, "Why?"

With an exasperated groan, you responded to Lo'ak's inquiry.

"Because I said so!" you declared. Lo'ak, sensing a sudden change in your attitude, proceeded with caution.

"y/n…"

At that moment, a pained whimper escaped your lips, causing Lo'ak's eyes to widen in surprise.

In an effort to alleviate your discomfort, you rolled onto your back. You adjusted your legs and feet to elevate your knees–your thighs pressed together, and your breathing became increasingly rapid.

"I need to make myself come. Right now," you plainly stated.

Lo'ak, momentarily stunned by your demand, hastily stood up and let go of the spear he had been attentively sharpening.

Despite his overwhelming desire to satisfy your immediate need for pleasure, he was fully aware of the moral consequences of his actions. He had made a solemn vow, and he intended to stand by his promise.

With that, he nodded his head and spoke up. "I'll just go wait outside." However, his movements were abruptly halted when you suddenly sat up, your voice hissing a sharp "No!"

You threw your head back in an exasperated groan, your long neck bared, your jaw sharp and all too inviting. "Fuck, Lo'ak. You promised you'd stay."

Lo'ak had to shake his head and pull his wandering gaze away from you, effortlessly beautiful with your head thrown back in aggrevation, in an attempt to regain focus on the conversation at hand.

"I know, y/n, but I—"

You cut Lo'ak off, your words tumbling out in annoyance.

"Just go sharpen my things in that corner or something. You don't have to look at me. I just need to be able to see you."

You pointed to a dimly-lit corner of the room, and Lo'ak knew he had no choice but to obey your command. As he made his way over to the designated area, he was fully aware that he was dangerously pushing the boundaries of his earlier promise.

Lo'ak cautiously settled himself in the corner with his back towards you, as far away from you as the room allowed.

With a sigh of relief, you exhaled, "Good."

Your voice was sultry, and Lo'ak was humiliated to feel himself twitch at your breathy praise. This was so, so wrong.

Feeling the need for a distraction, he hastily grabbed the half-sharpened spear nearby. Absent-mindedly, he used his dagger to whittle away at the spearhead in an attempt to zone out of his current situation.

But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't block out the sound of your panting breath. He couldn't ignore the rustling of fabric as you most definitely stripped off your loincloth. He couldn't ignore the wet squelches and the delicate moans you made as you shamelessly pleasured yourself across the dimly lit room.

Ever since the fateful encounter in the forest, Lo'ak had yearned to hear you make those sounds again; he'd dreamed about it. But now, to hear it again, with his own ears, knowing that he couldn't let himself see or touch you–it was the cruelest form of torture.

At the unexpected sound of a hiss, Lo'ak's ears instantly perked up. It wasn't the kind of hiss one would associate with pleasure–the hiss was more so angry, bordering on a frustrated scream.

Lo'ak's focus was now completely fixed on the situation, but he made sure not to let his eyes wander to you, where you lay behind him just across the room, half bare.

Up until that moment, Lo'ak had been successful in staying silent, allowing you to do whatever it was that you had to do in peace. However, when he heard the second pained hiss, a peculiar sense of curiosity and concern took over, compelling him to blurt out, "Are you okay?"

For several agonizing seconds, the only sounds that filled Lo'ak's ears were your labored breaths and the wet noises created by the movements of your fingers–noises that made Lo'ak's imagination run wild.

Finally, you spoke up, your tone a mixture of complaint and exasperation.

"Your skxawng-ass fingers are so much bigger than mine; it's not the same," you explained, your voice coming out rushed and breathy.

Lo'ak lowered his head, shutting his eyes tightly as he attempted, with little success, to maintain a steady breathing pattern.

You, on the other hand, were going off on a tirade, your words tumbling out almost incoherently, "So stupid. You and your…your four fucking fingers–" you start. "Don't even know why you'd need four fingers. Probably compensating for your tiny—oh, fuck!"

Your snide tease was suddenly interrupted by a moan of intense pleasure.

Lo'ak couldn't believe his ears, and despite himself, he barely suppressed a laugh at your completely unexpected diss. He found your taunts equal parts amusing and oddly hot, but he'd never confess to that aloud.

Meanwhile, the slippery sounds emanating from the opposite side of the room, along with your gasps of pleasure, grew louder and quicker.

"Lo'ak," you moaned, breathy and desperate. The depths of emotion in your voice were so powerful that Lo'ak had to hold his breath and close his eyes, afraid that one wrong move might result in him crossing a line that should never be crossed.

The resonant sound of your wet noises gradually ceased to fill the air, leaving only your labored breathing as it slowly returned to a normal pace.

As the seemingly endless moments passed by, Lo'ak remained frozen in place, uncertain if the slightest motion would shatter the fragile balance between reality and fantasy.

For a moment, he wondered if everything that happened was all just a figment of his imagination–some twisted, perverse dream that threatened to consume his waking thoughts.

But it soon became evident that everything that happened was indeed very real.

The subtle sounds of fabric rustling drifted across the room as you likely began to readjust your loincloth, doing your best to return to a semblance of normalcy.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, you finally spoke up, "Okay. You can turn back around now."

Lo'ak nearly laughed out loud at how you could be so casual about the entire situation. It was as if you relishing in your own pleasure on the other side of the room while he merely sat there and listened was nothing more than a brief interlude to your otherwise typical afternoon.

Quickly, before he stood up and turned back around, Lo'ak crossed his arms in front of his lower half in a feeble attempt to conceal the extent to which your actions had affected him.

His efforts were mostly in vain, as you almost immediately directed your gaze downward toward his awkward stance, zoning in on the poorly-concealed tent in his loincloth.

A small grin made its way across your cheeks, your face still flushed from the moment's passion. Your hair was kind of messy from lying on the floor, but in Lo'ak's eyes, he swore you'd never looked more beautiful.

"Feels better," you remarked with a hint of pride in your voice, your stare so piercing that Lo'ak could only muster the strength to blink and jerk his head in agreement.

"I think I'm actually getting better at controlling my urges," you added, either oblivious or simply indifferent to the fact that you'd left Lo'ak at a complete loss for words. "I didn't pounce on you. Or lick you. Or bite you."

You laughed at your own words and all Lo'ak could manage to do was to bring himself to nod once more, attempting to give you some indication that he was still alive, although barely hanging on to his senses.

"The begging is still embarrassing, though," you continued with a cheeky grin, shaking your head and finally looking away, giving Lo'ak a moment to recover.

Lo'ak couldn't deny that you were at least somewhat right, though.

You seemed more in control of yourself compared to the day prior, as though you had something to prove–a point to make. Your previously desperate ramblings and cries for help had transformed into shameless, flirtatious banter and an unbroken chain of colorful curses. It was almost like you were back your normal self, albeit a very... sensuous version of yourself.

"Do you also need to take care of yourself, Lo'ak? I promise I won't look." You gazed up at him, your eyes dancing with mischievous intent as a smug grin threatened to take over your entire face.

Lo'ak bit down on the inside of his cheek, doing his best to look away and shield himself from your piercing stare that seemed to cut right through him.

"Funny," he forced out, attempting to infuse his voice with a level of seriousness and deadpan sarcasm that, given the circumstances, he just couldn't quite muster. Instead, it emerged in a manner that was breathier and weaker than he'd intended, reflecting the fragile state he found himself in at that moment.

Silence stretched between the two of you, the situation seeming to take on a life of its own.

You finally broke the silence with a snort and a chortle escaping your lips before evolving into full-blown laughter. Lo'ak couldn't resist the infectious nature of your mirth, and he, too, succumbed to the sudden hilarity that had blossomed around you.

As the laughter finally began to subside, you unintentionally let out a loud yawn, suddenly feeling genuinely exhausted after having worked yourself up earlier.

Lo'ak chuckled at the display before him. "Was that a fake yawn or a real one?" He asked, his eyes full of knowing mirth.

You rolled your eyes and felt a tinge of embarrassment at the realization that you had faked being tired to ignore the almost animalistic attraction you felt towards your best friend.

You consoled yourself by taking pleasure in the memory of Lo'ak trying to hide his errection just a few moments prior.

Even though he had done an excellent job of not giving in to your desperate pleas for his touch, he was clearly struggling to control his body's reactions around you.

You settled yourself back on your sleeping mat, blinking up at the ceiling as you fought off the urge to close your eyes. Exhaustion settled deep within you, making it that much harder to resist the pull of sleep.

"Being so horny all the time really takes its toll on you," you murmured playfully, your voice heavy with fatigue.

Lo'ak watched you, a small smile tugging at his lips. He saw you go from angry, to sexy, to adorable, all within the span of a few minutes, and it simply amazed him.

"You should sleep, then. For real this time." he suggested, hoping it might finally persuade you to rest.

Silence settled over you both for a beat, and you remained still, battling your fatigue. You knew he was right, and the pull of sleep was too strong to resist much longer. But at the same time, you didn't want to admit defeat. So you simply closed your eyes and feigned ignorance.

At the sound of your continued silence, Lo'ak began to worry that you had already dozed off on him.

"y/n?" he called out to you with growing uncertainty.

Without opening your eyes, you replied with a barely audible humming sound. Lo'ak took this as a signal that he had only a few moments left with you before you were fully asleep.

"Do you think you can handle being by yourself for the next few hours while you rest?" he asked tentatively. He was admittedly nervous at the thought of leaving you alone for such a long period of time. "Just until after my training this afternoon. I can bring back lunch when I'm done." he offered, hoping to reassure you.

Finally, you opened your eyes ever so slightly to meet Lo'ak's gaze. With a slight nod, you agreed. "Yeah. Thanks, Lo'," you murmured.

The nickname made Lo'ak's heart swell.

Even though you've used it countless times—since you were little kids—it sounded so different rolling off your tongue. There was something about the way you said it that was new, more personal, intimate.

Lo'ak felt a warm flush rising in his cheeks as he dipped his head, trying to hide the sudden rush of emotion that coursed through him. You were still drowsy from your heat, your eyes half shut and your expression soft.

"Alright. Good. See you, I guess." Lo'ak stammered, his words stumbling over one another as he made his way to the door.

He cursed himself as the flap swung shut, wondering why he had to toe the line he himself had drawn when you were in the throes of your heat.

He couldn't deny that he enjoyed the way you acted while you were in heat–the extra softness, the way you clung to him as if he were the only stable thing in your world, the way you looked at him with a mix of confusion and desire that made his heart race faster than he'd ever admit.

You looked at him as if you saw something more in him, something more than just your platonic friend. But he felt guilty for savoring those last few days–he hated seeing you in pain and out of control, even if it did give him a little thrill to be the one that you turned to.

As he stepped outside, he couldn't help but think of how much he'd miss that version of you once you were no longer in heat.

He had always known that it was just the effects of your natural cycle that made you this way–shamelessly needy and hypersensitive to every touch and word. But he couldn't help wishing that there was more than just your heat that made you look at him with such longing.

You and he had always been inseparable, practically joined at the hip. It was no secret that you both felt most at ease in each other's company. He knew deep down that he harbored feelings for you that went beyond friendship–feelings that he probably shouldn't entertain.

Still, he kept this secret locked away, fearing the potential destruction of the special bond that the two of you had.

He almost did it today, though.

His jealousy raged like wildfire at the mere mention of you engaging with one of his friends–let alone with his brother–in a more-than-friendly manner.

Despite his better judgment, he found himself giving in to your pleas, imploring him to stay by your side even though he fully understood how quickly things could escalate.

He was genuinely powerless to resist the way you stirred him–the way he let himself become physically affected by just the sound of your voice. You practically stared at the physical evidence of your effect on him in the face.

Lo'ak was acutely aware of how obvious it was, the way you made him feel. He could only hope you wouldn't remember the minute details once you finished your heat. He honestly had no idea how the process worked.

You claimed that you knew exactly what you were doing, of what you asked of him that first day, that you were fully aware of the consequences, but were you really? Sure, maybe heat-induced you knew what you were saying, but would you—the real you that would emerge after your heat—be able to say those same things? He guiltily hoped so.

Taglist <3: @vanillawhale, @strawberryclouds22, @countryandsweetbabygirl, @kurogxrix, @yunonaneko

Previously: Chapter I, Chapter II,

Keep reading: Chapter IV

#teyamskxawng #teyamskxawng’s fics #lo'ak x reader #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak smut #lo'ak smut #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2022 #atwow #lo'ak x y/n #lo’ak x y/n #lo'ak sully #lo’ak #lo'ak fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #james cameron avatar

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