#spring awakening fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hwaightme · 1 year

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Safe and San

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR MOUNT'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist)

🟡 pairing: san x afab!reader 🟡 genre: smut, pwp, fluff, established relationship 🟡 summary: in the coolness of an early morning, choi san reveals to you what it means to love in a quiet timelessness, where all that exists is you, him, and the sunrise. 🟡 wordcount: 5.3k 🟡 warnings/tags: fiance san, falling asleep in the living room reading together, sharing hoodies, just loving each other, summer season - yes it is spring but now it is summer because san said so, hoodie san, cuddles, hugs and kisses, sort of edited sort of not (lmk if there is intense chaos anywhere) 🟡 taglist: @doom-fics @legohwa @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven 🟡 a/n: seriously idk where this came from, all I know is that I have been occasionally mindblanking and... here we are. Much love and all reblogs, comments, notes welcome <3

🟡 nsfw taglist: the petname content is intense in this one (sun, moon, stars, summer, honey, darling, love... nicknames...), all the praise, lazy sex, no protection (wrap before tap c'mon), cum inside, cockwarming, sex while in a state of semi-dress, fingering, the softest dom san, basically a service dom

The early morning haze entranced you. An ever-changing palette, the walls of your living room appeared to take on a different hue every time you languidly blinked, still fighting the heavy remnants of sleep. After having forgotten to completely draw the curtains, the luminescence of the cheerful, expectant sun crept across the cold wooden floor in a shy line, barely caressing the cream wall on the other side of the room, centimetres away from producing a kaleidoscopic scene by hitting the glass inserts of the shelving unit. The soft cushions that lined the l-shaped couch, and the woollen throw that hid you from the chill, were a cloud suspended in a tranquil bliss. You studied the familiar, adored surroundings as they metamorphosed from a lilac wonder to a glowing mandarin masterpiece, the brushstrokes of a pastel pink, coating the awakening sky, peeking from the other side of the window, capturing your bleary attention.

Not a sound, except for the level breathing of the man beside you. The man who had your love so fully, so deeply that you were not sure if the slow thudding in your chest was real, or was simply an echo, a comfortable illusion that you had agreed to settle for just so that you could give the heart away for him to keep. He would most definitely keep it safe. Find a neat little box for it, and, if you were lucky, find a place for it somewhere between the books and the video game DVDs, and admire it whenever he would walk past. Or perhaps he would be crafty enough to find a way of putting it in his pocket and carrying it around with him wherever he went – that way, you could miss him less than you normally did when you were apart. Shame you only had one heart, because you would give Choi San the universe if you could.

Your fiancé was like the grand starry expanse in the night, paving the way for explorers, lovers, and mystical creatures alike, and the radiant manifestation of Apollo in the day, bestowing upon the earth a hope, a heavenly brilliance, a magic the secret to which only he knew. With each moment that passed, you had come to understand that there was always more to San. Be it hidden in a sigh, in an enchanting glimmer in his eyes or in a simple gesture, he was an ethereal enigma that you were shocked, and infinitely grateful, existed.

Careful to not disturb him, which was a challenge in its own right considering that you had used his broad chest as your pillow, you lifted the throw ever so slightly and rose into a seated position. You gingerly adjusted the material back, and twisted yourself to be seated on the edge, and facing the literal sleeping beauty before you. You let your eyes travel across his resting face. From his forehead that was obscured by adorably ruffled onyx locks that poured out from underneath his grey hoodie. To his eyelids and lashes that showed the tiniest movement, making the soft light occupying the room land onto the little hairs and turn them to white gold. Down to the perfect line of his nose, the tip of which you liked to plant a quick peck on when you wanted to see your fiancé get flustered. And to his alluring lips which were parted ever so slightly. In the somnolent daze there was an angelic quality to him, a peace that you wanted to sink into and never depart from.

This was one of the first mornings in a while, that you had all the time in the world to keep on staring. For the most part, it was either you or San, or both of you having to get up and rush out of the door for work after having snoozed the alarm a ‘healthy’ number of times. Which is why it was surprising that you were even awake – five o’clock was not exactly your usual territory, and if not for the summer season blessing you with longer hours of sunshine, it was likely that you would not have distinguished between dream and reality, and dozed off lulled by the rise and fall that came with San’s every breath. But your wakefulness had its beauty: there was no stress spurring you on, and the sight of your love beside you, serenity written across his features, made you grateful for the surprising perkiness. For this short while, your personal heaven could be committed to memory, and serve as a transformation for every future when you would need to ‘rise and shine’.

You spotted San’s reading glasses lying, discarded, between his body and the back of the couch, inches from being squashed, while the books you and him had been reading were lying in awkward positions on the floor, much to your amusement. Careful not to damage the pages any more than they had been, you reached to pick the novels up, momentarily studying the covers before marking the pages with what turned out to be a folded receipt and a post-it with the glue segment torn off, and placing them on the coffee table. You settled back into a seated position, tucking one of your legs under you and pulling down the base of your oversized tee. A shiver passed down your back, reminding you of the fact that the air conditioner, your saving grace after the summer heat kicked in, rendering natural ventilation impossible if you wanted fresh air not laden with pollution and unbearable humidity, had been running at full power all night. Only now that you have removed yourself from the human radiator that was your fiancé did you realise this, and began to construct an escape plan that, hopefully, would not break San's peaceful slumber. If you were lucky, perhaps you could snatch and save his glasses.

These small troubles, trivialities of daily life were what brought a smile to your face. Endearing dilemmas that left you confident that what you were experiencing was a continuous blessing. Tongue between your teeth, poking ever so slightly out of your mouth, you concentrated on stalking towards the spectacles. Having stood up from the sofa, you were in a half crouch, bare feet sinking into the soft carpet, with only the rumble of the air conditioner to accompany you. When you were already hovering above San's chest, arm out reached to fish out your target, your breath hitched as he shifted and smacked his lips, following the adorable gesture by placing his arm, which previously was your only line of defence against falling off the sofa, over his abdomen, which in turn made the glasses fall a little deeper, just out of your reach. You mouthed a 'now what', contemplating your next course of action - you were getting cold, but too stubborn to accept a so-called defeat in this miniature game of capture the metaphorical flag.

The only way out was to summon the powers of feline agility and hope that San decided to be a deep sleeper today. Knee sinking into the edge of the pillow, the stitching digging into your skin as you inched forward while trying to keep a toe still on the ground, a peculiar source of security for the case that a quick retreat might be needed. Fingers flittering across the material, reminiscent of the pitter patter of rain - every effort to blend into the dormant landscape, an accidental echo of a season recently culminated. Closer and closer, your leg was a mere few centimetres away from San's torso, and you were arched over him, checking for any sudden changes in his position. But he was still. Almost too still. You narrowed your eyes and scanned his face, but could not detect any difference, aside from his mouth now being pressed together, however he did that in his sleep on occasion, so you paid it no mind. Suppressing a shiver, what used to be careful manoeuvring turned into risk as you took one final look at what you determined to be the sleeping form beneath you, and made a reach for the glasses, quietly hissing out a congratulations to yourself as soon as you felt your fingers touch the frame. Just a little more and you would be able to go get a sweater. Or turn the air conditioning off. Perhaps, since you were still occasionally blinking away the remnants of dreamland, you would get a cup of morning brew ready, and properly greet the sunrise by lounging on the tiny, but nevertheless welcoming terrace encased in shimmering glass. Or so you had hoped, until, as you were making your so-called journey back, a strong pair of arms snaked around your waist, and sharply pulled you in, so you now found yourself pressed flush against your sleepyhead love.

“Hmm… where are you going?” San mumbled, voice deep and groggy, resonating right above you as you wiggled to nuzzle into his neck, triumphantly holding onto his specs with one hand, pleased with yourself for having accomplished your initial task.

“‘s cold, so I need something warm.” It always took some time for him to register what you would say to him as he was waking up – on a number of occasions, he had not been able to recollect a single thing. So you kept your words simple, but even that made him give an exasperated whine as he hugged you tighter and rubbed the side of his face against your head, resulting in his hood being pushed back to reveal more of the heavily ruffled locks of jet black hair.

“But you have me… Y/N…” while answering you, San had managed to kick away the blanket fully, so that it now formed a dark grey heap at the other end of the sofa.

“I didn’t want to wake you, love,” you whispered back, shutting your eyes and relishing in the sensation, “you looked so cute and so peaceful.”

“What?” the sudden question made you raise your head momentarily, only to find San squinting right at you, “Nah… no.”

“No? My Sannie isn’t cute?” you asked, voice tinged with playful disappointment as you let your head fall back down, and took a deep breath.

Much like the early morning light, the mixture of cotton and San’s cologne was unequivocally captivating. It was the scent of the lazy days, the moments when you would allow yourselves to fall asleep, much like today, on the living room couch, legs intertwined after having spent the entire evening reading. An aroma of an embrace, a slow dance and a humming of a tune that only you knew, the notes that carried with themselves the melody of sweetest memories. The interplay of hemlock and bergamot, accompanied by heliotrope and mimosa – when you had pestered San enough times, he had read the profile out for you, the brief paragraph now forever imprinted in your mind in his timeless timbre.

A hand travelled underneath your t-shirt, trailing up and down your spine a couple of times before settling on tracing random patterns on the small of your back. You stifled a gasp as your fiancé took to toying with the waistband of your tracksuit bottoms, and, still laden with sleep, grunted and uttered his short, gruff retort.

“Not when I’ve read what I’ve read… ‘m surprised I even fell asleep.”

“Oh? And what was it you read?” a soft grin settled on your face as you sank into the feeling of San’s hands moulding you to his heart’s content. Unable to settle for one place, they roamed your body, worshipping every curve.

“Mm… too sleepy to explain…” he leaned into you, and upon nudging you to lie down a little bit higher, trailed a series of kisses down from your jawline to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, “…but I could show you.”

“Is that so? Well, I’m more than interested.”

“Wake me up a little bit more and I’ll give you a spoiler.” One of his hands travelled to meet your chin, and tilt it forwards so that his dark, glowing pools of adoration could meet yours, pupils trained on every micro expression despite being cradled in a blur, contained by relaxed lids and wispy eyelashes.

“Such a tease, Sannie.” You whispered, and gave into San’s guidance towards his soft lips, closing the space between you.

The infinite gradient of the sky’s spectacular hues exploded in your vision, as love’s intimate caress ignited a radiance within. With every passing moment, just as the cherry blossoms twirled to the ground in a muted waltz, giving way to flamboyant hydrangeas and mystical lilies, you too, fell deeper and deeper only to bloom once again with a new evolved adoration. A love that grew day in, day out. A love that motivated you to go on until tomorrow, for you knew that you would love even more then, and come to understand the naïve emptiness that you had trusted to be infatuation in the past. Fuller and fuller the soul became. The fuelled up inner fire that contained and protected your safe haven and your eternal paradise. While lilac skies and lavender fields blended into a heavenly unity only for a season, gifting natural beauty for a fleeting appreciation of its temporary existence, the reality that you and San had crafted was evergreen. It was, of course, expected to waver, much like any flowers that were meant to bloom, but together, you would sway and intertwine, two lifetimes turned to one harmonious duet in an everchanging landscape.

New leaves and blossoms replacing those that wilted, but to inexperienced eyes, devoid of recognising the impeccable, intricate details of time, it meant continuity. It meant immortality and a youthfulness that did not know time. This was how life with San had been and will continue to be forevermore. Each tender gaze and caress, the sweetest sigh into your ear was a rekindling of something greater, and left you in an ecstatic daze. The invisible paths of his strong hands exploring every inch of skin left behind a budding desire as you thought back to the transforming garden of hues outside the apartment, now turned to a colourful prologue for the beginning of your hazy summer day.

“Tease… I’m very polite, I’ll have you know.” You giggled as San broke away from the kiss, revealing his lovable pout. Unable to resist, you pushed your free arm up and cupped one side of his face, running your thumb over the cheek, poking his nose with your own as you broke into a wide grin. The action had an effect on San as he moved and tightened his grip to your hips, not once breaking his gaze, while the expression changed entirely.

Like a traveller who had finally found their oasis after an eternity of roaming the scalding hot sands, persevering through madness, he revered you. An unfiltered, unabashed, quiet love that could only be felt amidst total tranquility emanated from him as he resisted the urge to never let go, instead relishing in the beautiful, fleeting instances that you could spend together. Timeliness had taught him to treat each moment with special attention, but with you, he need not try. You were the moment. You were the one who shared his rhythm. You were the meandering river that he would forever prefer and worship over a roaring, cacophonic ocean. Elegance, grace – an identity that could never be replicated. In the rolling tides of strangers, he would always search for where the river met the sea, and would marvel at just how quickly he gravitated towards you. His priceless love and life, the one with whom he wanted to see every sunrise and sunset.

“Well then, gentleman, care to warm me up? Since I have been so politely intercepted.” The attempt at a joke flew over San’s head, but nonetheless, your wish was rapidly granted as he propped up his left leg so it was bent at the knee and his foot was steadily positioned on the couch. Arms still wrapped around you, he gave you another peck and inquired, voice low:

“Y/N, may I… roll you over?”

“Yes, you may. See? Such a sweetheart.” Words of praise always found their way into your responses when it came to your fiancé. Sometimes to obtain his shyness – a breath of spring, or relief – to last the autumn and the biting winter, or, like now, to lie down, impressed at the evoking of the blazing, sultry summer.

He encouraged you to give up any balance you had, and with impressive care switched you places, so that you were now the one resting on a fabric pillow, enveloped between the echoes of San’s body heat on the material, and the man himself, who had one arm on either side of you, and a goofy, proud smile adorning his features. Unable to contain yourself under his intense scrutiny, you raised the glasses you had been securely keeping, and unfolded them to try place a barrier between San and you. But to no avail. Reading your intentions, what used to be a pure cheekiness suddenly gained a darker colour, that of an intimate dusk, and lifting a hand, he hooked the spectacles right out of your outstretched hands, and raised an eyebrow.

“I can see you pretty well, darling. I am more than awake and focused now.”

He tossed the glasses onto the coffee table, sighing in relief as he saw them stop their sliding journey right before the far edge, which earned him a rolling of the eyes from you.

“All these efforts to get them, and you are ready to throw them into oblivion, yeah?”

“No idea what you mean, all I see is that everything is how it’s meant to be.”

The strength of his glances as he brushed your hair out of your face was reminiscent of the sun at its zenith, while the kisses he peppered on your forehead, flushed cheeks and longing lips were the rays of sunshine that would trickle down from the skies through cloudy barriers. The contrast in his light touches and their intentions as he slid a hand under your t-shirt and found your bare breast was immersing you in your personal summer. Your head fell further back, and you let out a satisfied sigh as San took the opportunity immediately, searching for the sensitive spot on your neck.

Taking his time, San nipped at it, while sending your mind into a disarray once his hand pinched your nipple and began to rub languid circles over its very tip, sending an electrifying shock to your core. One kiss after another, he was soon sucking on the sweet flesh, proudly giving life to a garden of unbridled lust spurred by a desire to show closeness. San wanted to melt into you. Melt with you. No embrace was close enough when souls could be together, and so through intimacy and the approach of ‘a small death’ did he strive to express his adamantine devotion to you. Any evidence of your harmony was nothing but heavenly music for him, and it was with pride that he claimed you, and was elated when you claimed him, be it in gratitude, in bliss or in frustration for your yet to be released high.

Your hands snaked themselves around San's perfectly sculpted torso, pulling the hoodie and the black tee underneath, higher and higher, until you could slip beneath, and your cooler skin touched his. The action made San stop his teasing and chuckle against your neck, while his body reacted automatically to roll his hips against yours, member concealed by layers of clothing growing more prominent and pressing against the material of his bottoms.

"Cold." The comment, uttered hoarsely though holding nothing but excitement for what is to come encouraged you to tilt your head and kiss San’s jaw, preparing to return his little, colourful favour.

"Told you."

"Mm, I know a way to fix that." Alas, you were not fast enough, and he lifted himself off you, the loss of contact making you whine. To remind you of his proximity, one of his legs remained between your thighs, knee too close to your core for you to interpret his steps as unintentional, innocent, serene.

With one final smirk in your direction as he caught you eyeing his body voraciously, San took off his hoodie, and motioned for you to sit up – only for him to grab your hand, and cautiously pull you towards him, grinning once you understood his mission and raised your arms above your head. It did not matter – the design, the colour, the cut… any item of clothing that belonged to him, in his opinion, looked better on you for the simple reason that it could hug your form, be an extension of him if he was away and could not wrap you up in his arms. At times, when you were showering, he would purposefully replace your clothes with an item of his just so the scent of your favourite shampoo could linger, and your image would be even more easily imprinted in his mind. Not that it was much of a challenge in the first place, but having all of his senses being preoccupied only with perceiving you was a state he wished could turn into permanence.

“Ah, but there’s a catch, my love.”

“Come on…” you whined and fluttered your eyelashes.

“These,” he grabbed onto the waistband of your tracksuit pants, “off.”

“Yes sir.” As soon as you uttered the phrase you noticed a lustful darkness flash in your fiancé’s gaze, one which he, much to your surprise, suppressed and shook his head.

“Y/N don’t do this to me, or you will not get up ‘til sunset.”

“If that’s your plan, would I even be able to get up?”

“And that’s why I want to make love, Y/N. I want to love you quietly… lie down for me, darling?” he requested, interlacing his urge with the words of one of your favourite poets. A tenderness in his directing you, how he reduced the bottoms and panties he had hooked along with them to a mere accessory on the floor, and how he caressed your thighs, revering every detail, was leaving you breathless. But, just as he was approaching your exposed, aroused sex, you called out to him, reaching for the hand that was resting on your leg.

“Then look at me.”

“Hm?”

“I want to see your pretty face, love.”

The dimples that fell into his cheeks as he beamed at you, crawling up to be right by your side much like a cat would, and letting you roll over so that you were nose to nose, sharing hot breath, made you fall in love again. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say ‘rise’ in love, for when you were like this, vulnerable, and yet so totally safe, you felt like you were soaring.

San took no time in finding your lips, relishing in the stifled moan that escaped you as his fingers teased your moistened labia. A leg resting over his, you were enamoured with the gentleness of his worship of you. The tip of his tongue begged for entrance and elicited a muted sigh as it entered to explore you. With an approving hum, San curled his digits and let your walls clench around him, as he proceeded to set an unhurried pace, knowing you, knowing how to coax out every feeble mewl and build you up to an unforgettable ruin. You had the luxury of time, every worry replaced with the opportunity to connect and combine into one.

There was an added pleasure that came with the surpassing of the excitement of your relationship’s novelty. The intricate mapping of your fantasies had now taken on a new level of complexity, and the sequences transformed into a language only you and San shared. Delighted in the lewdness of sound that was produced by the relaxed pumping of his fingers into you, the gorgeous man further deepened your kiss by taking the strings of his hoodie, now adorning your frame, and drawing you in. Whatever illusion of space between was now entirely gone, and all that existed for you was San’s touch, San’s fragrance, San’s body heat, and the knot in your stomach that was getting tighter his thumb ran circles over your aroused clit.

There was no urgency in his movement as he unravelled you, even though, as you adjusted your positioning, you became aware his stiff erection. The sudden friction caused San to gasp, and, when you brushed your leg against his again, to test the waters, he pleaded, voice ragged and airy:

“Let me take care of you, honey.”

“But San-” you protested, hand palming his length, but denied as he kissed the response away from you.

“You’ll help me out with that later.”

“But I can get an early start.” A final attempt, only spurring San on to push his fingers deeper into you, massaging your pussy until he hit your most sensitive spot, earning a yelp and an approaching tender pulsation.

“Needy for this cock, huh?”

“Ah…What happened to… mfph… sentimental lover boy?” you joked through shallow breaths, choking out every word as you clung onto San’s t-shirt for support in your approaching high.

“I’m still here. Still here… You look beautiful, Y/N… taking my fingers so well, dressed up in my hoodie…” he praised, emphasising his role in your unwinding. Gazing at the love bites he had left on your soft skin through hooded, lust-filled fog, he was motivated to give you any satisfaction you could possibly desire.

“Sannie, please… ah that feels so good…”

“Please what, darling? Hm, tell me.”

Continuing to relentlessly abuse your g-spot, San sweetly took in your writhing form, enjoying the power that he had in this moment, while a ray of the morning sun crept across the floor towards you, traversing the territory of the living room like a foolishly courageous voyeur.

“Faster, please…”

“But it’s so early sweetheart, don’t you want to take it easy?” he inquired, knowing full well that you would not give him a well-structured response, intoxicated by the intensifying arousal, climbing closer and closer to a climax.

“Ah… please… Mm… I need…”

“Elaborate, or I cannot heed to your caprices.”

“I need you inside me.”

“Is that so? Well, I can’t deny you anything, my love.”

Reduced to a whimpering mess, you waited with bated breath as San shuffled to finally push down his trousers and reveal his throbbing member, now adorned with rivulets of pre-cum after having been left abandoned while his digits satisfied you. In a matter of seconds, you could feel its tip against your folds, gliding up and down the slick until you inadvertently bucked your hips towards him, unable to hold on for any longer without a stronger stimulation. Luckily, San was in a loving mood, and submitted to your silent begging. Soon enough, he began to drive into you, so agonisingly slow so as to not force how perfectly your pussy accepted him, and once his pelvis was flush against yours, embraced you. He strived to have you entirely, as if, even when you were with him, he missed you.

Overwhelmed by the fullness your head tilted forward, your forehead meeting San’s as he barely withdrew his cock, and re-entered you, mumbling fuzzy words of praise at how well you were taking him, and just how heavenly your soaked cunt was as he went deeper, rocking his hips upwards to drown himself in your heat.

The world on fire, skin lapping against skin like waves of a mountainous current, painting the landscape in the hues of a blazing sunrise, much like how hedonistic desire washed over you. It grew at an alarming speed until it was threatening to bloom, a crimson rose of undying attraction and adoration for the man who was offering himself to you as your cunt clamped around him. San was entranced by you, and wanted more than what ‘more’ could signify, lifting your leg and throwing it over his to bring you to your sensual demise. Your grasp of his tee tightened as the pounding became hungrier, and you dropped the act of being able to contain a portion of your moans, letting the salacious melodies go right by San’s ears, interlaced with expletives and your beloved’s name.

With every affirmation to roll off your tongue that he had only recently confronted with his own, he would grind harder into you with ease, now that you were propped up just how he wanted you. San could never get enough of your flushed cheeks as the ripples of pleasure ran through you, with his cock rendering you speechless, muscles tightening in anticipation of a crashing orgasm. Only feeble, high-pitched gasps bounced around the walls of the living room, blending into the warm ambiance as your climax hit you – a monsoon, the season controlled by none other than your fiancé, who kept up his flow, mumbling barely coherent phrases:

“So gorgeous, my love, that’s right. Come for me, come over my cock-”

It was not long after your orgasm that his thrusts lost their steadiness, San’s grip on your thigh grew unbelievably tight and he dived to find stability in the dip between your shoulder and neck, leaving feathery kisses and biting the area to suppress his low grunts, now turned to helpless moans that served to prolong your own high.

The erratic motions of his hips culminated in a series of deeper thrusts as he buried his dick as deep as he could inside you, groaning as ropes of cum painted your still-pulsating walls, that seemed to be pleading for more, greedily taking every drop. You rolled your lower half a couple of times, ecstatic from the dizzying fullness that his cock and thick release provided, causing some of the cum to ooze out, threatening to coat your inner thighs. San had no plans on moving, at least not until mist lifted from his consciousness, and he could conjure up at least one thought that did not relate to having you again.

While his dick twitched inside you, you attempted to remain as still as possible, regaining San’s attention by whispering his name. Through half-lidded eyes he gazed back, sending you a shy smile so endearing, and so much brighter than every star, contrasting the remnants of earlier intimacy in the form of a bead of sweat that concealed itself under the hair that fell over his face, and the reddened, plump lips.

“San?”

“Hmm?”

“I’d say I’m very warm now.” He chuckled, making you bashfully glance off to the side, catching the reflection of the sky in the coffee table. The simple ability to hear San’s husky voice as he drifted with you in post-coital bliss, an arm lazily resting on your waist, was a blessing.

“Anytime, my love.” He matched your lightheartedness and squeezed your side.

Your precious sun and moon. The one with whom your heart beat in unison, the one who had read you like a novel, front to back, back to front until he could recount every detail better than you ever could. Time stood still as you lied there, on the couch, sharing addictive nectar and basking in the afterglow. The day only beginning, the room decorated in a light gold hue. Unwilling to part just yet, you shared another kiss with San, in adoration for how the early morning haze entranced you.

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wifeofnatasharomanoff · 10 months

Text

Asleep In Your Arms

WARNINGS: Natasha Romanoff has a dick, fluff, sleepy smut, slight groping, stomach bulges, breeding kink, soft sex, established relationship/marriage, they have a son

WORDS: 1.08k

PAIRING: beefy!Natasha x f!reader

A/N: omg i haven't posted a fic in sooooo long 😭

An infant's giggle awakens Natasha, your wife, from her deep slumber. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles as she sat up on the bed, watching you in awe as you play with the baby in your lap beside her. “aww my little baby boy, oh, you're so cute! Yes, you are!” you baby-talked the little boy as he laughs, his stubby little hands grabbing at your face as you nuzzle your nose into his chubby cheek. “Detka..? God, what time is it?” you turn your attention to Natasha as you greet her with a soft, loving smile. “It's a little past 9 pm, darling.” she raised her brow at your words, “and you didn't think to wake me up?” you pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “You just looked so peaceful sleeping. Plus, you came back from a week long mission.”

“Babe, he's uh– Alex's biting your hair, krasivaya.” you look down to see the baby nibbling on your hair strands, your hands immediately untangling his gummy mouth from your hair. “What did mommy say about biting her hair?” you sternly asked Alex, as if he was able to understand you. “mm’o–” Natasha's eyes slightly widened at the baby's almost-spoken word, “Tasha did he just?” she frowned. “No, Alex, don't say mommy, say mama.” you nudged her side, “right, and who had to go through 9 months of pregnancy and 13 hours of labor. Because someone wanted a baby and got me knocked up.” she scoffed. “Excuse me, but you're the one who agreed—” she stopped herself, fully realizing that she had lost the argument.

“That's what I thought.” she huffed before snuggling up to your side once more, “we should make another one.” she mumbled against your waist. “...What?” she sighed as she held onto you tighter, “nothing.” you were about to respond when you felt the boy in your arms muscles relax and soft breathing heard from his direction. “Honey, is he asleep?” you whispered to the redhead, only to be answered with silence. You peeked down at her sleeping soundly, her arms wrapped around your torso. “Nat.. let go. I need to take Alex to his crib.” she muttered incoherent words as she turned to the side. You slowly got up from the bed and went to the nursery, setting down the infant with gentle hands.

Your heart ached with how cute your son looked sleeping, his chubby little face squished to the side of the soft mattress. You heard a quiet flick noise as the light of the hallway outside of the room turned on. “Natasha?” you called out and closed the nursery door behind you, peering out into the hallway. “My love, what are you doing out of bed..?” you pulled her back into the bedroom, “go back to sleep, Natty.” she looked down at you with groggy eyes. “Natasha..” you softly spoke, your hands moving to cup her face. She slid her hands down to your hips and pushed you flat on the bed. “Darling don't you think it's a bit late— oh!” she lifted up your legs and placed them on both sides of her waist.

Your eyes darted to the outline of her bulge prodding through her boxers, “you really want this, don't you, Tash?” she groaned as your smaller hand went to squeeze her clothed length. “Go on then, use me.” with your words something snapped in her, and she adamantly slipped your panties off and tossed them somewhere in the dark of the room. “’m gonna fuck you so good, baby..” she whispered, her voice raspy considering she just woke up. “Yeah? Prove it to me.” she peppered kisses trailing up your inner thigh, stopping at your wet cunt. She discarded her boxers, your gaze fixated on her girthy, long length springing free.

“Oh, fuck me.” you breathed out, she smirked as she aligned her bulbous tip with your entrance. “I'm planning on it, sweetheart.” you exhaled shakily as she inserted a few inches into your pussy. “Is– is it just me or did those missions make you more..” you admired her bite-able, muscular arms and shoulders with a lustful glint in your eyes. “More what?” you laughed silently, “oh.. nothing.” she slammed her entire cock inside your hole. “Oh God!” you moaned as she slid in and out of you at a painfully slow pace. “..Faster. Fuck me faster!” she sped up her thrusts with a harsh grip on your hips.

“Ah– mmngh you're so big..” you whined, already cock drunk over just a few movements. “You're so fuckin’ beautiful, Krasivaya.” her voice was strained, finding it unbearable to not release inside of you, your walls fluttering down on the sides of her dick didn't help either. “I- I can't t..” your words were breathless as you talked, you dug your nails deep inside Natasha's beefy shoulders as you felt her tip rubbing against your cervix. “Darling I'm.. I–” your skin felt as if it was set ablaze, heated and sweaty. “I need to– please let me cum!” you shouted as her relentless movements never stopped. You didn't want it to ever stop.

“Come on, make a mess all over my dick, baby.” she moaned loudly as she felt your walls clench around her girth. “Fuck! Nat– Nat.. Tasha- Natasha fuck!” You cried out in euphoria as you came crashing down all over her cock. “You did so good.. fuck. You're so pretty. My pretty girl.” she murmured hushed praises as she slammed back into your cunt. “mm..” you were too fucked out and tired to respond, just allowing your wife to have her way with you. “Oh, shit. I'm gonna cum.” she whined as she saw a visible bulge poking through your stomach, only driving her off the edge quicker. “Fucking hell..” her eyes screwed shut as she felt her reaching her peak.

“Gonna fill you up.. f-fuck– make you a mommy again. Hm?” you nodded feverishly, “y-yes! Cum inside me, Natty!” you softly moaned as she came deep inside you, keeping her position still without pulling out. “mmh..” she panted as her head rested on your chest, your hand lazily ran tender strokes through her red hair. “You tired big guy?” you felt a faint heartbeat and soft breathing against your chest. “What's with Romanoff's and sleeping..?” you yawned as her hold on your body grew tighter. “Goodnight, darling..” you pressed a light kiss on the top of her hair as you, too, fell asleep shortly after.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanov x reader

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gallusrostromegalus · 10 days

Note

ok I need elaboration on pretty much all of those bankais that you haven't already talked about but for now i'm probably most curious about ichigo and hanataro? please, a measly few crumbs of context

The short version of Ichigo's sword situation is that he is D'artanigan to Zangetsu's Three displaced-during-the-fuckery-surrounding-his-parent's-meet-cute-slash-manslaughter-thing Musketeers. We got his dad's half-starved family Zanpakuto, The Family Ghost from his Mom's side, and a guy made in an evil instapot that wandered in here on accident and precipitated the whole enfuckening. They are untied in their goal of "Keep Ichigo Alive" but unfortunately they also have a collective IQ of Negative Four.

Reader: Gee Ichigo, why does the author let you have THREE Zanpakuto spirits?

Ichigo: That's nothing! Orihime has SIX!

Ichigo and Orihime's nonsense is connected to how The Almighty operates:)

Meanwhile, short summaries of Unohana and Byakuya's Bankai under the cut:

Minazuki is a sword primarily about the manipulation of flesh- healing injury, making better fighters by pushing the flesh to it's limits- This is a spirit that is distinctly VISCERAL in nature. It has mass. It has a very distinct body.

Unohana:

So it follows that, in order to supply injured patients with blood and drugs and new flesh and everything else, Minazuki is giving up some of her Mass. Consequently, the Stingray form of Minazuki is the SECOND one- she cannot create her elixirs and make new flesh from nothing. First she must FEED.

Which is why Minazuki's liquid format is acidic blood that devours anything organic. It's why Kenpachi!Unohana's bloodthirst was so bloodthirsty: she was literally starving for biomass to complete her sword's two forms and finally put her Soul in Balance.

Senbonzakura has been with the Kuchiki family for generations, passed from one head of the clan to the next in a sacred ritual that allows the Zanpakuto to bond to its new weilders and grant them the power accumulated with generations.

In the fic, Ukitake is one of a handful of people old enough to remember "Yachiru" Unohana, and until Zaraki's arrival, probably the closest to understanding her. That Unohana and Retsu both understand the horrors of the flesh he lives with every day more intimately than anyone else in his life, and it's the basis of an almost sacred friendship between them. He knows perfectly well where the emergency transfusions and drugs she creates come from, and they have a standing agreement that if he predeceases her, she is to feed his body to Minazuki so he can pay forward at least some of the debt given to him.

He will not be the first of Unohana's friends that have been willingly devoured by her sword.

Byakuya:

But for course, everything has it's cost.

Byakuya was not the head of the Kuchiki clan when his father Sojun died prematurely and make Byakuya the orphan heir apparent as an adolescent. He was not the head when he met Hisana in a grove of cherry trees in the middle of harvest, and fell in love with her He was not the head when he had a terrible row with his grandfather Ginrei and the rest of the clan elders about his elopement. He was not the head five years later, when on a cold spring morning before the plum trees had blossomed, Hisana died of a miscarriage.

One week later, when the plum trees bloomed and the cherry trees had budded, Byakuya came to his grandfather, head bowed and heart broken, and agreed to take up the mantle of Clan Head. His soul had already been torn in half, what was another half?

Everything has it's cost, and the price of Senbonzakura's power is the sacrifice of the weilder's own original Zanpakuto spirit, and by transference, the imminent death of the previous head.

He had known this day was coming, ever since his own native Zanpakuto spirit failed to awaken at the academy. At the time, he'd thought it a mercy that the poor thing wouldn't awaken and be aware of being devoured. But now, as he held the tiny, warm body of the spirit out to Senbonzakura, he could only think of the child he never got to hold.

...with Senbonzakura, at least, she'd be at rest with something beautiful that loved her.

Because Senbonzakura loves it's family, and in particular it adores Byakuya. It has, ever since Byakuya fearlessly climbed it's branches as a small boy, since he partook of the sword's fruits as a young man, and now, when Byakuya offered the most precious parts of himself to the sword with a sense of peace and profound trust. And Senbonzakura repays that trust in kind.

The sword's shikai release is the same, or at least similar for all it's wielders, but long-term friends of the family note that that is a LOT MORE blades than the sword ever summoned for Ginrei or any other head.

The Bankai is different every time. Senbonzakura is ready to give Byakuya whatever Bankai he wants immediately, but it's not until after he adopts Rukia and sees her fooling around in the family orchards when she thinks he isn't watching that he realizes the shape it should be.

It's name is "Senbonzakura: Sakura no Kaju-en" and it is beautiful and terrible.

Sakura no Kaju-en requires only that Byakuya pierce the flesh of his enemy or the terrain around him with one or more of his petal-blades. Once in the ground or embedded in flesh, the blade is transformed into a seed and an entire magical cherry tree grows from it, converting the Reishi and spiritual energy around it into its own mass. Since Byakuya is effectively wielding somewhere around 10,000 petal blades in his shikai alone, he can summon up to 10,000 devouring cherry trees, which will radically alter the landscape of battle and blossom into millions and millions of new petal-blades.

That is, unless his foe is unfortunate enough to have the blades penetrate their flesh. Then the trees will devour them as they grow. Even a truly massive opponent like Yammy can be mulched in minutes.

The trees initially blossom almost white, but as his enemies are felled and Senbonzakura drinks, the blooms grow pinker and then redder until they transform into deep crimson fruits.

It's a brutal Bankai, but a beautiful one. When Byakuya looks out upon the blooming landscape and tastes the sweet fruits of his efforts, it brings him peace to know the small, sleeping spirit he had to sacrifice is playing somewhere within, they way he saw Rukia playing in the family orchards that day.

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #ichigo kurosaki #retsu unohana #yachiru unohana #byakuya kuchiki #minazuki #zangetsu #senbonzakura

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mayhemories · 1 year

Note

Neteyam x reader dealing with the change between the forest and the reef. Fluff plssssssss but also kinda smutty.

I don't know how to describe it but can the reader want to mate with Neteyam bc they haven't yet and the reader doesn't know how to bring it up. and she is like worried about being a virgin

idk i cant stop thinking about Neteyam x reader sex on the beach

(doesn't have to be like actual smut if you are uncomfy)

What A Blessing

Oh, thank you so much for the request! I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I did it some kind of justice. I didn't commit to the smut in this part, but I was kinda envisioning a smutty pt 2. to this fic, so let me know if you'd want that <3

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar)

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: Spicy Fluff? Straight Fluff. Neteyam has 1 (one) dirty thought, god forbid, let him live. Reader has a chat about sex and mating.

Words: 2.6k

Author’s Notes:

Minors DNI (no smut explicitly but still not for you guys, okay?)

Listened to How Can I Make It OK? - Wolf Alice, nonstop writing this. So if you want the vibe, there it is.

Neteyam is 19, reader is 18/19, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tsireya are 17. Lil Tuk girl queen is the same age as the movie because I will protect her childhood.

Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!

Read below the cut:

Having Neteyam as your promised mate was a blessing. Having the security of someone so beautiful, strong and kind was priceless. A blessing. Having the Sully family as your fortress: Jake as your father-in-law and the Olo'eyktan, Neytiri as the mother you only ever dreamed of, Mo’at and all her teachings, the wisdom of the T’sahik that she instilled in you, for the future. Lo’ak as the annoying thorn in your side, but a thorn that opened your eyes to new sides of Pandora, nonetheless. Kiri as your sister in spirit, someone who felt Eywa like you did, someone who did not forget the power of her strength during hardships. And little Tuk, someone who made you laugh, and play and sparked the power of your imagination like it had been when you were little.

And of course, your beloved Neteyam. With his broad chest, and broader smile. Honey eyes that could spring from docile to alert and tracking in seconds. With his sweet laugh and sweeter, protective nature of his siblings and his clan members. Being Neteyam Sully’s love was a blessing, was a strong fortress. Being in love with him was simple and easy. As was loving his family. Everything was perfect.

Until it just wasn’t anymore.

“No, Neteyam” you sighed. Sitting on the side of your shared bed, Neteyam kneeling in front of you, your hands weaved together. “I don’t understand.” your voice was soft, the tears streaking down your face were softer still.

“My love, my father has decided,” Neteyam spoke softly, as if not to frighten you. “I must leave, my family must leave for the safety of the clan, for their longevity.” You loosed a sad chuckle, shaking your head sending rouge braids that Tuk has made flying around the perimeter of your face.

“No, Neteyam, I don’t understand why you are talking like I am not coming with you.” You felt something fierce awaken in your small, beating heart. You were rarely like this, but when you were, Neteyam knew there was no point.

“My love you know you can go anywhere, do anything you choose, I will never be able to stop you.” A sweet smile graced his lips, sighing he continued, “you know my only wish in this life is to keep you safe.”

Gently, you wiped your face clean of salty tears, bending down to meet him on the floor of your sleeping quarters. You held Neteyam’s eyes with your own. And he knew in that moment, that he could never be parted from you. In this life and the next, he would always be with you.

“I will always be safe when I am with you, Neteyam.”

Finally landing the Ikran on the sand was instant relief to you. Your thighs were chaffed and your skin felt so dry like you had been whipped, skin peeling, ripped from the constant barrage of the coastal wind. Dismounting, your legs felt wobbly, like a baby taking its first steps. Neteyam kept his hands on your waist, stabilising you. You were no hunter, no rider really. That was all Neteyam. But, a keen herbalist, forager, spiritualist. You were his balance, or rather, you were supposed to be his T’sahik.

The sun was so warm on your skin as you waited for the leaders of the Metkayina to accept your plea for refuge. You did not know if it was the delirium from the long flight, or whether the anxiety of being turned away caught up with you, but you felt like you were floating in and out of existence. One moment you were standing, the next walking with all your belongings to your new home, the next you were sitting in the intricately woven marui pod, unpacking everything and anything that meant something to you.

Neteyam’s hands, calloused from the Ikran’s reigns and the grooves of his bow, found your slumping shoulders. Small circles being rubbed into your mistreated skin.

“My love, are you happy?” Neteyam whispered over the sensitive curl of your ear.

“Can I be honest with you, Neteyam?” You asked, turning to face him. He scanned your face for any signs of anxiety, happiness, indifference. Tightening his brows, as well as the grip on your shoulders.

“Of course, always.”

You smiled at that, he was still the same, despite it all.

“I am worried I will not thrive here, that I will be dead weight.” You wrung your hands and wrists, head cast down, to escape his gaze, but also in shame, admitting your fear to him. To Neteyam. Your perfect Neteyam who could do no wrong.

“I’m too worried, that I will be dead weight.” Neteyam sighed. Your head sprung up, confused. Your hands found either side of his face.

“Are you stupid or something?” Neteyam smirked slightly, his hands snaking up to rest on yours. “Neteyam, everything you touch turns to gold, you can’t really fail at anything.” He laughed at you, a proper stomach laugh.

“Care to share that tidbit with my father when you get a chance-” Rolling your eyes, you cut him off.

“Neteyam, I’m serious.” You felt yourself starting to pout.

“Take some of your own advice, huh.” Neteyam captured your eyes again. With a small peck on your pursed lips, he whispered: “You have medical training, you have intelligence and a strong heart.” One of his hands rested on your chest, roughly where you knew your heart would be. “You are connected to Eywa, you are connected to me. Forever.” You couldn’t help but smile. Oh Jesus, Neteyam he always knew exactly what to say. “My love Eywa will never turn her back on you, and I will always protect you from anything that might come.”

Loving him was so easy, especially when he said things like that.

He held your hands as you both stood up.

“Now, let’s get some fresh water into you.” You chuckled, you knew you were dehydrated beyond belief. “And maybe some salve for that chafe too, huh.” He chuckled at you, pinching your side as you giggled, leaning into his safe arms.

A blessing.

The days quickly burned into weeks, the weeks into months. Your training with Tsireya and Ao’nung went well, to your surprise. You found breathing easy, as you could imagine the lungs filling and deflating. Though, Kiri teased you that Eywa decided you must be good at everything. Yet, all you saw was how naturally it came to Kiri and Tuk, themselves. You’d never admit it to Neteyam, but you preferred riding the Ilu.

It came a bit harder for Neteyam and Lo’ak, but they were dedicated. Neteyam wanted to uphold the promise he made to Jake, that he would pull his weight, stay out of trouble, and bring no shame to the family. Lo’ak was driven by holding Tsireya’s attention. Which, you decided, wasn’t the worst idea Lo’ak had ever had.

You liked Tsireya, Ao’nung… not so much, though after his big fight with Lo’ak and Neteyam, he had been more tolerable to be around.

Tsireya and you sat side by side on the sand. You talked about anything and everything. She would often help you with your hair, and you would often help her with Lo’ak. You both had been trained as Tsakarem and loved the Sully boys. As different as they were, you knew better than anyone else, all Sully boys were the same breed.

Her fingers were in your hair, trying to get Tuk’s random braids and beads out before she properly weaved your hair into some kind of intricate braid pattern.

“How did you know Neteyam was the one?” Tsireya asked, though you knew she sat right with you, you knew her mind was thousands of miles away, with a certain Sully. You giggled, knowing that you were like this once. Maybe, you still were like this, though your love for Neteyam was not so young and fresh and scary, all at once, like Tsireya and Lo’ak.

Neteyam was running down the beach with Tuk, he felt sorry that he had not spent as much time with her as he used to. They collected every shell that she deemed pretty enough, placing them into a makeshift bucket Neteyam had fashioned out of a palm husk.

“Look!” Shouted Tuk, Neteyam expected another pretty shell, but he looked up to where his little sister was pointing. “It’s (y/n) and Tsireya.” Neteyam smiled at her happiness, but also at how happy and content you looked.

Giggling with your newfound friend, talking animatedly, using your hands, as you so often did when you were passionate about something. You looked so carefree in the late afternoon light, the pale pink hue stretching out across the sand. Neteyam realised, you finally looked your age. So young and full of life.

The inappropriate edges of his mind could not help but think about mating you on the sand, then and there. All the mewling sounds that he knew he could coax from you, if only he was given the chance.

He quickly shook his head, as if to throw the image out of his brain and onto the sand. He refocused on Tuk again.

“Hey, don’t bother them yeah?” Neteyam said softly, holding a shell out for Tuk to take. “They look like they’re having fun.” Tuk twisted her nose up, but eventually agreed, digging her little fingers back in the sand, sifting to find the prettiest shell, just for you.

“So,” Tsireya started again, still doing your hair. You watched Neteyam and Tuk, further down the beach. Your heart was warm, blooming in adoration for him all over again. “You love Neteyam that much, but you two are yet to mate” all the blood pooled into your cheeks, across your nose and the tips of your ears. Talking about your virginity with Tsireya was new, but not unwanted, you supposed. “How come?” She finished your hair, sitting across from you, cross-legged like children in lessons.

“We haven’t spoken about it really.” You started, playing with your new braids shyly. “Neteyam was very sought after back home, I am not entirely sure what he did and did not do with others.”

Tsireya covered her mouth while she giggled softly, you mirrored her actions, still shy to be broaching the topic at all.

“And you?” She asked. You quirked your eyebrows in confusion, not really sure what she was asking. “Have you ever done anything? With Neteyam or otherwise?”

You knew you must be almost purple in the face, the blood pooling behind your deep blue skin.

“We kiss of course, but that is all.” You kept your eyes on Neteyam further down the beach, worried the ocean breeze would carry your conversation. “so far.” you added, hastily, in case the wind did betray you.

Tsireya looked behind her, at Neteyam and Tuk, and then back at you and your eyes, full of longing for the elder Sully boy.

“Neteyam! Tuk!” Tsireya called out, you hissed.

“Ah! What are you doing?” You still felt nervous after admitting these things aloud to Tsireya.

“Come join us!” Tsireya ignored you, but beckoned the two Sully’s over. Tuk came bounding, a bright smile on her little face, braids bouncing as she ran.

“We collected shells for you! And for mommy too.” She said proudly. Showing off her palm husk full of shells, some stunning, truthfully. Others were broken or chipped. But to Tuk, they were beautiful all the same.

Neteyam sat next to you quietly, thighs brushing. You felt like you were going to pass out, still embarrassed from the conversation with Tsireya, which Neteyam knew nothing about. But his presence, though usually a blessing, was too much.

“Oh wow!” Tsireya exclaimed, causing Tuk to smile wider. “Shall we take them to show your mommy? I feel like she would want to see them!” Tsireya asked Tuk in a sing-song voice. They stood up so quickly, Tsireya holding hands with Tuk, Tuk leading the charge back to the village.

You were lost for words. Tsireya had set you up, alone, with Neteyam, just before eclipse. She confirmed this with a sly wink thrown over her shoulder. You couldn’t help but stare at their retreating figures.

It was stupid really. Neteyam was your promised mate, your love, your everything. And a few words exchanged in confidence with your best friend regarding your lack of sex life has caused you to be in shambles.

Neteyam could see the remnants of blush resting upon your high cheekbones. And, he’s not stupid, he saw Tsireya’s pointed wink. Putting a braid behind your tinted ear, he started:

“So, what did you two talk about? You seemed like you were having fun.” Neteyam smiled, elbowing you in the side.

Loving him was so easy, why couldn’t mating be easy too? Why couldn’t having sex with him be the easiest thing to do?

“Neteyam,” You released a breath you weren’t even aware that you were holding. “Have we not mated yet because of my lack of knowledge in pleasure?” It was a stupid question, you knew that. But you couldn’t get the seed of the thought out of your mind, now that it had been sown.

Neteyam felt all the blood in his body rush to his face, it was his turn to blush he supposed.

“How could you even think that?” He chuckled, holding your face in his hands. The heat of your face radiating outwards. “Do you think I have so much experience? Of course not.”

You felt foolish now, so you leaned into it for once.

“So you do want to mate with me then?” You asked, your voice only slightly louder than a whisper.

Neteyam laughed.

Not a sweet chuckle, or a nervous giggle, a full-blown laugh.

You instantly retreated into yourself, not expecting him to laugh at you, despite the foolishness.

“Oh Eywa, help me,” Neteyam started, seeing your embarrassed figure pulling your knees to your chest. “My love,” Neteyam grabbed your chin in his strong fingers, forcing you to look him in his amber eyes, now lust-blown and heavy-lidded. “I think about mating with you every day. It’s the first thing I think of in the morning, the last thing I think about at night, I dream of it, of you my darling.” His genuine confession set your heart racing, your blush fighting tooth and nail to be at the forefront of your face. “My (y/n) I couldn’t even witness you sitting on the beach with a friend without thinking about it.”

He always knew what to say. Loving him was easy. What a blessing.

That mantra ran circles around your mind as you listened to him.

“If I’m being honest, we have not yet mated because I am scared,” Neteyam spoke softly again as if his admission was going to float away in the breeze. “I am scared that one day you will wake up and want to leave me.” His voice broke slightly.

You audibly gasped, this boy.

“Neteyam, you know I would never leave you,” your fingers found their home in his hair, despite his grip on your chin. “I love you, I see you.”

Neteyam smiled. The eclipse rapidly approached behind him, and in the moonlight, his skin glowed, he radiated such pureness, you never wanted to let it go.

Never wanted to let him go.

“I see you too, my love. Always” He kissed all over your face, making sure to get every freckle, every smile line, every inch. “We can mate whenever you want my love, whenever you want.”

“Eywa has blessed me with you, Neteyam.” You giggled.

You couldn’t wait much longer, you needed to mate with him. Entwine your bodies and souls for life.

As he kissed your lips with his soft, plump pair, all you could think of was,

Loving Neteyam was easy, so easy, like breathing. It was natural, it was right, it was forever. It was a blessing, it was a fortress.

You will never know what you did to be so blessed with the gift of Neteyam.

Additionally, you also couldn’t wait to tell Tsireya.

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azsazz · 10 months

Text

Whispers in the Wind

Azriel x Reader

Summary: The Split-Fic is here!! @writingsbychlo and I are so excited for this! Featuring Tamlin's sister!reader as she navigates life after losing her family.

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 823

_________________________________________

The vast gardens surrounding the Willow manor are always beautiful in the peak of summer. Vibrant lilacs and blush flowers bloom far and wide not only across the Spring Court but live perfectly contained in the lavish garden of your brother’s estate; preened and watered daily by the house staff.

Just like you.

You sigh, pushing away from the bench by your window. Your linen skirts whisper against the floor as you stride across your room, flinging yourself onto your bed. It feels much too big for only yourself, but yet you were all you had, with your brothers and parents gone, save for Tamlin. Your heart yearns in your chest—to bask beneath the summer sun that reminds you so much of them, Neo and Wells chasing you around with teasing grins and flowers for your hair.

You miss them, even if they did fight a lot, both in training and out. Neo was the oldest of the four of you, fiercely protective and you thought him more intelligent than even the Surial sometimes. And Wells was a master of the sword, always willing and more than ready to answer with his fists. Both of your brothers showed exemplary traits that could crown them High Lord of Spring someday, but now…

Tamlin hadn’t ever wanted that life. He wanted to travel and said that he’d show you the white sands of Summer or the Mountains of Night someday because you weren’t allowed to tag along with your father while on official business. No, that was a male’s journey, one for only your brothers.

And now he’s the High Lord, because Neo and Wells are gone, killed in the night by the hand of Night itself, Rafe.

He and his son Rhysand had moved as the shadows within the manor, silent killers that made straight for your family in the dead of night. You had hardly heard more than your mother’s plea before she was silenced, and you burst from your bed chambers only to find Tamlin kneeling in a pool of Rafe’s blood, eyes hopeless as his body thrummed with newfound power.

You don’t feel like eating, hadn’t felt much of anything in the months the rest of your family had been killed. It had been a relief to your remaining brother that you hadn’t been murdered, and he’d left the next night with such a fiery vengeance that he’d nearly set fire to the wisps of long grass in the fields behind the manor.

It has been days since he’s been gone.

The sun dips low behind the rolling hills as night approaches, smothering the light like a snuffed-out flame. It’s both utterly intriguing and disturbing now that you know what it’s capable of.

Tamlin had said you’d be fine when you begged him to allow you to join on his travels. Bron and Hart were here to protect you and would lay down their lives for you if you asked.

As the stars awaken, you shiver, your stomach curling in betrayal. They call to you, just as the shadows do, just as the moon does. She cries silver tears into your favorite spot in the Spring Court, aptly named Moonlight Lake.

You shouldn’t go, shouldn’t wander through the fields like that. Nasty creatures still roam the night, you’ve heard the wolves howling at the full moon high in the sky, and the whispers of creatures that scared the deer into hiding.

Yet you can’t seem to stay away. Your fingers twitch against the soft sheets and it’s hard to keep yourself from getting up and following the moon. You squeeze your eyes shut, taking a steadying breath. Maybe Bron will play the pianoforte to distract you or perhaps Hart will teach you that card game that he loses every week.

Sneaking out of the Willow manor is as easy as it was when you were fourteen and Wells had shown you how. Bron and Hart won’t bother you, of that you know. A mourning daughter of Spring that shan't be bothered, Tamlin instructed.

The grass is cool beneath your bare feet and you follow the brightest star in the sky though you don’t need to. You know the way by heart.

Silver glows, the lake beckoning you with each step. Its mercury waters are dazzling, a mirror that reflects the night sky it wishes to return to.

A voice across the clearing stops you just before you’re about to dip a toe into the star-filled waters.

Squinting, you can’t make out the figure more than a silhouette of darkness. Your breath catches in your throat and your heart pounds loudly in your chest. He stands directly across from you, the lake the only thing separating him from you, and you can easily tell how tall he is.

His voice is a caress of darkness itself, sliding down your spine like a drop of moonlight escaping into the pool below. “Hello, petal.”

#azriel x reader #azriel/reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel x you #azsazz x writingsbychlo #acosf #azriel angst

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wheresurboytonighthelookslikeenj · 2 years

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picrews are for normies i make dress up games on scratch

#me? coding some spring awakening game instead of working on fic and/or homework? it's more likely than you think

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k-daydreams · 11 months

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The Pursuit of Feeling Alive: II. Acting Coy

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Synopsis: cousin to Rhysand and Morrigan, y/n was once her family’s golden child. Faced with trials and tribulations her whole life, she needed reprieve— a distraction. Until a surprise homecoming opens Pandora’s box, and gives y/n a reality check. Especially facing her once close friend Azriel. Friends to Enemies to lovers trope.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: swearing, angst, angst, angst!! Ooc Azriel being a dick?, flashbacks, mentions of trauma

Author’s note: wow wow, thank you everyone for the support! Kinda strayed from my original idea of this fic, but I’m loving it more. As always like, reblog, and please give feedback if ya can! I love all the messages I’ve been getting! It makes me so excited for this! Anyways enjoy and lmk if you want to be added to taglist?!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

You stood on the corner of the balcony attached to your bedroom in the House of Wind, gazing up at the remarkable Night Court sky. The stars twinkled above, painting the velvet canvas, while a gentle breeze enveloped you, carrying with it the faint scent of jasmine, a delicate reminder of Velaris' beauty. Aware that this might be your final stay in the city for a while, you cherished every precious moment, savoring the sights and sensations that had become familiar and comforting.

Tomorrow morning marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life—a journey to the Spring Court with your parents and the rest of the night court, where you would wed and live with your soon-to-be husband, the eldest son of the High Lord. Leaving the House of Wind was no easy task, for it had become your sanctuary, but it was your duty to follow the path laid before you. The weight of tradition and family expectations had been ingrained in you since childhood, shaping you into the dutiful daughter you strived to be, hoping to bring honor to your family's name. Sacrificing your own hopes, dreams, and aspirations was not in vain, or so you convinced yourself, fearful of the consequences of pursuing a different path.

As you basked in the soft glow of the moonlight, you allowed its radiant embrace to caress your bare arms, feeling a connection with the celestial bodies above. The gentle luminescence seemed to emanate from your own skin, illuminating the periphery of your vision. Tonight, you felt too numb to dim that light, to suppress the thoughts that consumed you. You had just embraced it all. It had been almost a year since your dormant abilities had awakened, making every fire and faelight burn tenfold, announcing your extraordinary powers. Since then, you have dedicated yourself to honing those powers, training relentlessly while also still excelling in your studies and various skill sets. It had also been almost a year since you were promised to a man in whom you held no interest.

The weariness had settled deep within you, amplified in recent weeks by the wedding preparations and the intense mental shield training by Rhysand. The purpose behind this training was to safeguard Velaris and the secrets of the Night Court from the prying minds of daemati, ensuring no slip of information would jeopardize your mission. Rhysand didn’t hold back with training, pushing you, and when you thought he couldn’t push anymore he found away to break you past the point. No amount of tonics and headache powders could help the pain that raged in your head, even making your body ache. You wished to snap, to surrender to the madness— senility seemed like a preferable alternative to the path laid out before you. You knew better than that.

A rustling sound behind you alerted your senses, accompanied by sturdy footsteps that landed with certainty. Without needing to guess, you knew who had joined you on the balcony, and for the moment, you wished for the company of only your own thoughts. That's why you had taken dinner in your room, denying even your handmaiden's presence. You didn't want your family or the court to witness the turmoil brewing within you. How vulnerable you actually were.

"You've been avoiding everyone," Azriel stated, his voice carrying from the opposite side of the balcony. His massive wings were relaxed hung over the railing, his elbows propped on the ornate material. Though he stood a step away, his shadow slid across the tiled floor, subtly wrapping itself around your ankle in a comforting greeting—a gesture you were too stubborn to admit brought solace.

"I've been preoccupied with making sure everything is ready for tomorrow and the wedding," you replied coolly, feigning detachment.

"You have people for that," he countered, a sliver of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Azriel possessed the uncanny ability to read you like an open book—it was, after all, his skill as the Spymaster. It was more than the skill he had as he has been your friend for almost a century already, and he just knew by this point. He could sense whenever you were distressed, angry, happy, or on the verge of breaking apart.

"I'd like to ensure that all my belongings reach the Spring Court safely," you retorted with a nonchalant tone, your hands resting on your hips. Even if he was right, he was the last person who should be visiting you without a chaperone. The high lord was very strict with orders on who could visit you. Azriel was not one of them.

"Bullshit," he coughed, crossing his arms. You turned to face him, glaring, carefully observing his appearance. Dressed in his customary Illyrian fighting leathers, black and glazed, black gloves concealing his scarred hands, his blue siphons shining bright against your own radiant glow, his onyx hair neatly pushed back, not a strand out of place, and his jawline clean-shaven, he looked as fresh as a daisy, despite his busy schedule.

"Have you considered the possibility that I simply don't want company?" you queried, your tone laced with defiance. He chuckled at your stubbornness in a humorless way, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Your affairs are encroaching on mine at this point," he sighed, his frustration not directed at you, but rather at the fact that you had become a pawn in the grand scheme orchestrated by the High Lord, Kier, and your father. Another piece sacrificed in this intricate game of war, and it was unfair to you. While you remained oblivious to what lay ahead, Azriel had an inkling of the ordeal awaiting you. His spies had informed him about your soon-to-be husband and the nature of his family. He had known the court was everything you despised despite having everything you loved. He knew you were about to become the Spring Court's most prized olive branch and trophy once the night court handed you off, and he couldn’t do nothing about it.

"Sorry if my call to duty is so bothersome for you, Spymaster," your blood began to boil, indignation rising within you. He was upset? You were the one marching toward your sole purpose in life, or so you had been led to believe. It felt like you were going to your own funeral. Yet he wanted huff and puff in annoyance?

Azriel raised his hands in defense as your anger escalated. "I say this out of genuine concern for you, dear dove," he said, his voice gentle. Your heart fluttered at the nickname your friend had used for you—an endearing term that had started as teasing but had evolved into something deeper for you. "I know this isn't easy for you. Morrigan sends her wishes as well."

You scowled, your heart aching for what your family had put Morrigan through when she refused a preordained fate. You wished you possessed even a fraction of her bravery. But you were not her; you were yourself—the Night Court's shining jewel, the rare black diamond that they had painstakingly cultivated and finally gotten right.

"Azriel, what if I can't do this? What if I make a mistake?" Your throat tightened, your body trembling as you fought back the anguish welling up inside you. "I'm so fucking scared," you whispered, a tear escaping and trickling down your cheek. Azriel approached, closing the distance between you, and pulled you into his strong arms. He cradled your head with his gloved hand, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back, while his shadows gently played with the ends of your hair. The dam burst, and sobs wracked your body as you silently cried in his embrace, finally succumbing to the weight of it all. You could smell the mist and cedar on him, and it sent waves of solace through your body. It was one of your favorite smells, if not the top favorite on your list.

"You're going to do more than great," he whispered, his voice a gentle reassurance amidst the storm. "You're going to be the most intelligent, talented, and powerful woman to ever grace the Spring Court with your presence." He gently pulled away, cupping your tear-streaked face, wiping away the evidence of your pain. His hazel irises bore into yours, and a sincere look on his face as he continued. "Did I mention the prettiest as well?" A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you rolled your eyes, appreciating the attempt to lighten the mood. You pulled him back to you, just needing to savor his warmth and presence for a little while longer. He didn’t protest, just rubbing your back as his shadows still continued to play with your hair.

After a while, you pulled away feeling your eyes were getting heavy. "I suppose I should get some sleep. Thank you, Az," you sniffled, your voice still shaky. He nodded, offering you a closed-lip smile.

"Of course, dear dove," he nodded, the moonlight still casting its ethereal glow upon you, making even your stray tears appear crystalline. Retrieving a small box from his pocket, he handed it to you—a black box adorned with a deep purple ribbon. "From all of us. You don't have to open it right now."

You took the box from his hand, your fingers lingering for a moment on his gloved one. He seized the opportunity and pulled you into another embrace, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. Your heart swelled at the gesture. Azriel may have been aloof most of the time, but when it mattered, he was compassionate. You could only hope your husband would possess a fraction of his considerate nature. He pulled away, and you wiped the remaining tears from your face.

"Goodnight, Y/n," he murmured.

"Goodnight, Az," you nodded, watching him as he moved away. His wings rustled before taking flight into the shimmering night sky of Velaris. You allowed him several meters of distance before entering your room. Sitting on your bed, you toyed with the small box, anticipation building within you. Unable to resist any longer, you opened the gift.

Inside, nestled on a bed of purple velvet, was a stunning jewelry set adorned with black diamonds. They were the most exquisite pieces you had ever laid eyes upon. A note was tucked beside them, signed by Rhysand, Morrigan, Cassian, and Azriel:

For our little star.

You had been heavy in thought all morning, memories haunting you, filling your heart with a weird sense of deja-vu. Preparing to leave for the Night Court proved to be a daunting task while nursing a hangover. At least you were staying for another few days, only gathering some belongings to leave with Morrigan when the inner circle left this morning. You wanted to tie up loose ends before leaving the Day Court and returning to the city of Velaris. You couldn't bear to leave Helion clueless on what stood in your affairs at his court; you had left too many loose ends in your life already. This time you were determined to at least end this chapter of your life closed and on a better note than all the others in your life.

The faint smell of the wildflowers and honey from the colorful gardens below breezed through the windows, and light from the morning sun glittered your skin where it was exposed as you moved around your room. You savored the feeling on you as it absorbed through your thin night clothes and robes as you packed. The light was hard to ignore as it buzzed in your veins, the frequency low compared to what it felt like when you weren’t hungover. Your head was already spinning, a whirlwind of emotions and nerves churning about. It was hard to tell whether the flutter in your stomach came from nerves or the remnants of the wine you had indulged in the night into the early morning. A big thanks to Mor, who never allowed your glass to be empty.

You had packed a decent size sack of clothes, but glamoured it into a small coin purse so Mor could easily bring it to Velaris without straining herself too much. Her room was further down at the end of the hall from yours, where she had always stayed in the Day Court (when she had not occupied Helion’s room). Not feeling the need to change out your night clothes yet, you left your room with the coin purse to go visit your cousin.

The day court palace was ethereal and heavenly. Everything from the statues, the molding around the high domed ceilings, the pillars that lined the halls of the palace, to the tiles of the floor were made of marble and quartz. The dome ceilings had murals painted of past day court rulers, great battle scenes from the Great War, and even some of Helion’s closest friends and court members. The halls had endless windows to let the sunlight in with balconies and verandas attached that held sitting areas of gold and champagne colored silk chairs and tables scattered about facing the best views of the grounds.

As you strolled down the hallway, the sunlight embraced your skin, leaving a warm sensation lingering upon you. The rings adorning your fingers glimmered, casting reflections on the polished floor. It was these little details that you would surely miss once you departed—the comforting warmth of the Day Court and the ability to harness your power so effortlessly. In the Night Court, where the moon and stars reigned supreme, the sun’s brilliance was muted, and manipulating light consistently proved more challenging. Lost in your own world and lost in thought, you failed to notice who was walking your way.

“Y/n!”

You looked over and saw Cassian, Nesta, Elain, and Azriel walking towards you. You mustered up a brave face, offering a meek smile. Azriel’s shadows came out of nowhere, swirling and circling up his arms. Almost like they were chirping to him. He subtly shook his arm to rid them, not looking impressed.

“Good morning,” you greeted, tucking your robe closer to your body, trying to cover up a bit more. You couldn’t help but notice the awe in Elain’s and Nesta’s faces as they looked at you. You didn’t think it was because you were in your night clothes either.

“You're glowing,” Nesta said with inquisition, ignoring your greeting. Your skin even through the mesh of your robe shined lightly emanating a soft glow.

Your cheeks reddened and you willed the light down into your being, not doing a great job as it seemed to shine brighter. Cassian smiled broadly, his wings rustling in amusement. Azriel had remained stoic close behind Elain. His facial expression was unreadable, a big contrast to the wonder in the young woman’s face.

“Didn’t I tell you she did that?” Cassian wrapped his arm around his mate, and her eyebrows furrowed together looking at him. She reminded you of a black apothecary cat that hated almost everyone, and Cassian was the stray golden long haired dog that roamed around the streets of Velaris begging for pets and food. It was odd, but sweet.

“I thought you meant figuratively.” She pushed him away slightly, fixing her hair.

“No, no it’s actually literal.” You tried to add a playful tone to your voice in an attempt to diffuse your unease. You felt naked and improper in front of them in just your night clothes. It didn’t help, they were already dressed for the day, all in their traveling attire.

“Intriguing,” Nesta hummed in curiosity.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Elain spoke up. “You’re truly the star they say you are.” You looked at the middle Archeron sister, her features soft and dainty. Her brown eyes are warm like toffee and her hair matched. She had reminded you of yourself many many centuries ago. “I had a lot of time to read in the libraries.”

“I’m in books, I didn’t realize I was of significance.” The statement came out harsher than intended. The feeling of indifference was powerful towards your biological family.

“You are one of the most important court members to exist. Of course you're in the Night Court texts.” Azriel muttered. “No need to act coy.” Though his voice was calm and level, you knew that had been intended as snark.

Your softened gaze hardened as you glared at him, “I’m not being coy, just genuinely surprised because I was also one of the most shunned members.” The air was now heavy with an unsaid tension as Cassian and the sisters looked between Azriel and you. This was the first time you’ve talked to him in over fifty years, of course it was meant to be an argument. Cassian should’ve expected this, knowing his brother's feelings and how your temper got. Knowing how you ended things and the complex history between you two.

“Surprised you’re always put on a pedestal, no matter what your status is?” He jeered. Your could feel your inner rage ignite in your veins. You weren’t some pretty prize or trophy. Not anymore at least.

“Nesta, Elain let me show you the gardens.” Cassian suggested casually. Nesta looked entertained that she got to see the shadowsinger break his mask of cool, but quickly got annoyed at her mate who was pulling her away. Whereas Elain looked hesitant, bracing a hand on Azriel’s muscular bicep, showing her concern before trailing behind her sister.

“We’ll see you back at Velaris, Y/n.” Cassian put his hand on your shoulder walking past you and shooting Azriel a pointed look, escorting the women to the gardens; leaving the other Illyrian male and you alone. You watched as Elain walked away, Azriel’s shadows came out once again alerting the male in front of you.

Your narrowed eyes and the lurch in your stomach betrayed the surge of emotions you felt as you observed him staring after her. That look, the same one he used to give Mor when he thought no one else was watching, the one you used to yearn for—now it made you sick. An insatiable, jealous feeling clawed at you.

“Moved on, I see.” You chided, not being able to filter your mouth. You knew it was a low blow, knowing what you did know, but at this moment you didn’t care. Any warmth you felt from the past night had dissipated and you let your heart iced over once more.

“That’s none of your concern.” He uttered. His eyes a dark hazel as he took you in finally, without the stares of others following. You wanted to shudder under his dark gaze, but you held your composure standing taller, chin jutted out. He stalked towards you until his face dangerously close to yours, his frame towering over you. His steady breath hit your face as he spoke lowly. “Nor are matters in the Night Court.”

You could feel the flames building and intensifying inside you. “Is my appearance not wanted by you Spymaster?” Rhysand said he wouldn’t admit that missed you, but surely this couldn’t be the same Azriel that your cousin had spoken about last night.

He scoffed, “you ran away from us after you were freed. You didn’t even send a letter. I-we had to find out from Rhys once he came back from the cabin!” His smooth voice now gruff from his raising it. Azriel hardly raised his voice at anyone, but when it came to you, he would raise his voice until no words came out.

Your blood was boiling at assumptions he made. “You don’t know what I went through! You won’t ever know!” You exclaimed, feeling your eyes burn tears ready to spill.

“Your right, I won’t ever know.” He said with a scary calmness. “I don’t want to know either. You’re selfish for running away, leaving us. When you don’t want to deal with shit that’s what you do— run. Then what happens? We rescue you from whatever shit show you’re in. If it wasn’t an order from my high lady, I wouldn’t have come last night to your pity party.”

You were speechless, you could feel your stomach drop. Those were choice words he made, and each one was a stab to the stomach. He knew you hadn’t had a choice when you were married off to that monster. Azriel knew it wasn’t your fault that he went off and murdered your cousins. It wasn’t your fault his family was so scared of you for being too powerful so they had done terrible things to you. But he still threw it in your face as if it was your choice. You never had a choice. His face was expressionless again, “but anyways welcome home, Y/n.” His tone was void of any kindness as he brushed your shoulder passing you.

You could feel a couple tears finally slip down your flushed cheeks as you stood alone in the hall. Unsure of what had gone so wrong between Azriel and you for him to act so out of character. What made you want to get under his skin so bad that it only ended up with you hurting more. He had acted the same way before you followed Rhysand under the mountain, when he had tried to convince you not to go. He screamed, shouted, cried, and almost had his shadows restrain you, just so you wouldn’t leave. Now he wanted nothing to do with you.

You choked on the lump stuck in your throat, turning back to go to your room. When Mor was ready she knew where to find you. For now, you had decided it round two of your pity party.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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Taglist: @rachelnicolee @tcris2020

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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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dreamingofep · 2 months

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Sinned Awakening pt. 24 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/ Vampire Austin! Elvis x reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond beliet and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, ANGST, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Hello everyone! I went back and forth a lot on this chapter and needed to spice it up with some angst. 🤭 Sorry but I just had to cause some trouble for these two. There’s been something in the back of reader’s mind…

Please comment, message, and reblog if you feel so inclined.

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3! hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

The plane ride back to Memphis was the longest trip of your life. Elvis didn’t lie, he didn’t keep his hands off of you the entire time and his incessant teasing was almost unbearable.

You soon realized you never got tired; ever, in any shape or form, you didn’t need to rest or take a break for anything. Elvis was having a time with you and making you an absolute mess of you in the process. He had you begging for him like he wanted, smirking at you the whole time. He wouldn’t let you make love to him. He wanted to wait til you both got home.

“Please, Elvis,” you’d beg, touching him through his pants. He’d let out a soft groan, hardly able to deny what you wanted. His eyes looked like they wanted to scream yes, but the same answer came out of his mouth.

“No baby, I want to wait. I want you in my bed. I want it to be perfect for you,” he tells you with a nip to the neck. You lean into his lips, craving more of him.

“And you’ll let me feed off of you too?” You ask in a breathy sigh, squeezing his bicep.

“Maybe…” he teases, nipping you again at that same sensitive spot.

“Baby please,” you whine, “you don’t want me to be hungry do you?” You say trying to guilt him.

“Oh no honey, I’d never let that happen to ya. You know what I’d do,” he pauses kissing your neck and gripping your waist tighter, “I’d tell you there’s blood in the fridge downstairs and have you drink that,” he teases.

You push him away from you and grumble annoyed.

“You’re so mean to me you know that?! I thought you’d treat your wife, no, your Chosen, with more compassion,” you pout.

“Oh, baby you just can’t stand not getting your way hmm?” He says with a tug of your hair, baring your neck to him.

You feel your heart pound away at having your neck exposed like this to him. You felt how much he craved your blood, how he wanted to sink his teeth into you terribly. He grunts inwardly and you feel his breath on your neck. Your hair stands up on your arms as you sense his mouth is dangerously close to the pulsing blood coursing through your neck.

His tongue licks the side of your neck making you tremble with need.

“I on the other hand would love to see what you taste like now that you’re turned… you smell more delicious than ever. I’m absolutely starving for you,” he groans, nipping at your neck harder. You gasp, all too sensitive for him.

“If I have to wait, so do you,” you grumble.

He lets you look back up at him, his breathing labored and his fangs descended already. He wasn’t lying, he was hungry, but his eyes weren’t the bone-chilling red that you grew accustomed to. They were still mesmerizingly bright and golden, pleading for you to give him a taste. But you held your ground firmly. If you couldn’t bite him, you weren’t going to let him bite you either.

Finally, the plane touches down and you both are back in Memphis. It was a beautiful, sunny, spring day and the trees were full of green leaves. There was a car waiting for you outside the terminal gates and made the quick drive to the house. Elvis kept looking over at you the entire way, watching how you were taking in all the new things you were seeing.

You didn’t notice the world this way before and it made you want to slow down and appreciate it all. You take off your sunglasses and soak in the colors of the trees like it’s the first time seeing them.

The car comes to a gentle halt in front of the house steps and Jerry opens the door for you to get out. He’s taken aback at your appearance and your golden eyes in particular.

“What?” You snicker.

“Your eyes are… somethin’,” he quips, trying to hide a laugh.

“Yeah well at least I don’t have blood zombie eyes like you guys,” you reply putting your glasses back on, a bit self-conscious.

“Oh come on, they’re not that bad,” he laughs.

“Trust me, they are,” you say back with a laugh.

“You would have looked great with red eyes! You don’t know what you’re missing. Now you just have these golden eyes that can blind your prey or whatever,” he jokes. You can’t help but laugh, it was nice to joke about your circumstances and never thought about your eyes like that. You didn’t have that menacing look that the other vampires had. Your eyes were luring but not in the same way that they did.

In the blink of an eye, Elvis is in between you both and pushing Jerry away. You felt this blinding rage of jealousy come off of him in waves and can’t understand why.

“Get away from her! What makes you think you can talk to her like that,” he seethes in his face. Jerry looks at him wide-eyed, unable to recognize the man he calls a friend.

You quickly rush to Elvis and try to pull him away.

“Elvis stop, he was just joking around!” You try to tell him. He doesn’t seem to listen to you though, he’s still busy giving Jerry a death glare.

“Don’t talk to my wife like that!” Elvis snaps again.

“Woah EP I wasn’t doing anything-,” he tries to explain but Elvis cuts him off anyway.

“I don’t want you around her!” Elvis continues to yell.

You’ve had enough of him and this uncalled-for behavior. You pull at Elvis’ arm and make him take his hands off Jerry.

“Elvis stop!” You yell over him, your voice commanding and strong. You hardly recognize it.

To your surprise, he moves and looks at you shocked. You don’t let go of him, tightening your grip around his arm.

“What the hell are you doing?” You snap. He can’t look into your eyes as he tries to find an answer.

“I-I-I d-don’t know baby… I’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me. I just got so upset.”

“You got jealous,” you corrected him. He glared up at Jerry and then back to you.

“Yes, I did,” he says hesitantly, slightly annoyed too.

It had to be something with your bond. Elvis was protective, even possessive, over you but this was different. Even someone that he knows extremely well ticked him off and made him lunge at his friend's throat.

“Well don’t do that. He’s not going to cause me any harm,” you tell Elvis. He nods his head sullenly and looks down at the tight grip you have on his arm.

“Honey, you’re hurting me,” he says calmly, smirking down at you.

You quickly let go of his arm and look at the little red marks your fingers left on his skin.

“Sorry honey,” you say softly.

“It’s okay. You’ll have to get used to your strength it seems,” he says cheekily. “Let’s go in now, they’re waiting inside for us. And sorry Jerry,” he mutters, “Keep looking into that thing for me will ya.”

You give Elvis a snarky look and he holds your hand as he goes into the house. You look back at Jerry and you mouth ‘sorry’ to him. He casually shrugs his shoulders and walks off to the other side of the house.

His housekeepers were there by the front door waiting to greet him, giving him hugs and kind words that he was back. You take off your sunglasses and almost instantly regret it. They all gasp when they see your eyes and are awestruck. You look up at Elvis unsure what to do or say. Did they know about Elvis? Did they know what the full truth was? What you are now? You assumed they would by now. They’ve been working with Elvis for a long time now they were bound to find out the truth or some form of it. He stays silent too, probably not sure how to explain this all.

One of the women steps closer to you, cautiously to inspect you further. You look at her, holding your breath so you won’t smell her blood. She takes her hand and raises it to your face, hesitantly and slowly. They’re intrigued by your appearance and how you look the same yet very different. She brushes your hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear, grazing your now cold skin. You hear her take a sharp breath in and takes her hand off of your face, looking at you more intricately. Gently, she grabs your hand and holds it in hers.

“You’re beautiful, Mrs. Presley,” she says softly, giving you a sweet smile. She then goes up to Elvis, taking his hand too.

“Your wife is lovely Elvis. You somehow turned her into a more beautiful woman than before.” She says gracefully. He smiles at her, taking off his sunglasses too to reveal his eyes to her.

They all look in awe at him, surprised that you both have the same eyes now.

“Thank you, you’ve always been so gracious to me.” He says sweetly. “We’re going to settle down now and unpack our things. We’ll call if we need anything.”

They nodded their heads and stepped out of the way so you both could go into the kitchen. You’re a bit taken aback by their calm demeanor and how they didn’t freak out by your new appearances. They were extremely kind and gracious about it all. You wanted to know how they dealt with all of this so well.

“Are you hungry honey?” Elvis asks you, jolting you out of your train of thought.

“Oh umm, sure,” you say softly.

He opens the fridge and you see the top shelf filled with blood bags and the rest of the fridge has various produce in it. He takes two out of there and goes to place them on the counter. He sees you’re not exactly enthusiastic about this right now even though your senses told you you should feed.

“What’s on your mind darlin’?” He coos, pulling you into his body. His scent envelops you and gives you the most comforting sensation.

“I’ve never asked, how long have your housekeepers known? About what you are?” You ask.

What we are, your brain reminds you.

“Well, they’ve known pretty much since I came back from the army,” he explains.

“Oh, and how did they take it?” You ask.

“They were shocked, in disbelief. They thought I was sick at first and grew very concerned for me. I wasn’t eating when I got back home and they knew something was wrong. They’d cook me all my favorite meals and it all smelled wonderful, just how I remembered it, but I couldn’t take more than a few bites before wanting to puke. Then one day I told them to stop cooking for me. Having them here was putting a difficult amount of stress on me to keep them around and not want to feed.”

You nod your head in agreement as you slowly take a breath in and smell their scents.

Tempting, oh so tempting.

“I didn’t want to lie to them anymore and I sure as hell wasn’t going to fire them, so I decided to tell them the truth. They would either quit out of fear or stay and still take care of things around the house. I gave them the option. They’re all too loving and caring and wouldn’t leave me. I know it freaked them out and would keep their distance but as time went on, they knew I wouldn’t hurt them. We slowly built up trust between each other. Now they too have that unwavering trust in you,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your head.

“Elvis I- I don’t know if I can handle being around them. Isn’t it a bad idea to be around humans right now? What if it’s too much of a distraction,” you say worried.

“It’s going to be okay I promise. You are showing more control than I ever did,” he admits. That made you feel a bit better, but knowing he’s had zero control from the start wasn’t so reassuring. He goes to one of the cabinets and reaches for a glass and gently places it on the counter.

“Do you want to show me how you use your fangs or do you want me to cut this open?” He says to you with a cheeky smirk holding the bag in his hand.

“I’ll try my best,” you say quickly grabbing the bag from his hand.

You do your best to focus and breathe in the scent of the blood in your hand. Elvis's scent swirls in your head instead and you grumble frustrated. You bring it closer to your nose and then you can smell it. Your fangs descend and you feel the need to feed. You sink your teeth in the bag carefully, making sure it doesn’t burst, and drink the blood slowly. It tasted good and made you feel immensely stronger.

Elvis watches you with a smile on his face, sinking his teeth into the bag in his hand. You feel blood dribble down your face and carefully take your teeth out of the bag. You wipe your chin with the back of your hand and look up to see Elvis licking his lip.

“Very good honey.” He says sweetly. “Still making a mess but you’ll get better eventually,” he teases.

“What else is there to teach me honey?” You say eagerly.

“Lots honey, I’m not sure where I want to start,” he says low, bringing you closer to him. “There is more that we both need to learn together too honey,” he says nipping your neck.

“I’m ready to learn baby,” you tell him in a breathy sigh.

“Mhmm I’m sure you are,” he says low, “I think the next thing I need to show you is how to feed,” he growls low.

On him? Oh, that sounds perfect.

Your heart thumps wildly, loving the idea of feeding off of Elvis finally. He places his hand over your heart, feeling the excited pitter patter pounding away inside.

“Hmm, it’s so strange the way your hearts sounds now. Definitely immortal now but still draws me in more than ever,” he hums. He bends down to nip you neck and down to the the swell of your breast. His mouth felt more tempting than ever. Everything inside you screamed for him to bite you. You wanted to give him that satisfaction of having your blood and have his thirst appeased.

But you wanted to do the same to him. You were hungry by just the thought of having him. He’d be better than any other blood you’ve ever tasted you already knew that. You just wanted to sit on his lap and bite into that sweet spot on his neck. Then, if you were lucky, maybe he’d let you bite his chest too… yeah that would be incredible-…

“Show me how I should feed then,” you say in a breathy tone.

“Absolutely honey, I’ll teach you how,” he says low, nipping harder on your neck making you gasp. Elvis continues, “And show you how to compel them while you do it.”

Your heart sinks, that idea makes you feel sick for some reason. You don’t want to compel anyone in order to feed. Everything about it felt wrong and you couldn’t see yourself doing that.

“Oh… I-I thought you meant how to feed on you… I don’t think I want to drink from any human regularly,” you say sheepishly.

He pulls away from your neck and his eyes are serious.

“Why not honey?” He asks gently.

“It just feels a bit, wrong, to me… that’s all,” you try to explain.

“Okay, I understand that. It’s not easy so I understand why you feel that way,” he says to you.

“I guess I don’t want to make a habit out of something I might not be able to stop,” you explain to him gently.

Like you have, your mind screams at him.

Dear God shut up, he’s different now.

“You’re not wrong about that,” he says uncomfortable, “but, I think you should know how to in case dire situations come up and you absolutely need to feed. I don’t ever want to put you in a position where you are starving and I can’t help you if I’m not here or somethin’,” he explains.

“No, you’re right, I don’t know what circumstances could happen where I absolutely need to feed,” you say reasoning with him.

“Exactly honey, I’d never make you do it if you don’t want to. It’s just good to know. I think I’ll just feed on someone in extreme cases or when I’m out in Vegas or somethin’.” He says, going back for your neck and placing a small bite on it.

You feel your heart flat line.

In Vegas… he’d only feed off of humans in Vegas… the place where he became insatiable for blood.

You try to keep your composer, not freak out instantly on him, and not think what your brain instantly jumped to.

“Oh ummm, why just in Vegas?” You ask gently.

“Oh, don’t you remember me tellin’ ya honey? There are a lot of vampires in the area and they all have the same idea of using the blood banks for feeding. Sometimes it's hard to get blood that’s all,” he says casually.

“Well, are there any other places you can get some from? Different town maybe? Or maybe bring some with you here from Memphis,” you try to suggest.

“Yeah, it's an option for sure, but sometimes it’s not enough and humans are the easier option,” he goes on. “Why are you asking about this dear?”

Worry is slapped across your face and you can’t mask it well. You don’t exactly know why these emotions are so prominent right now but you couldn’t hide them from Elvis.

“I just don’t like the idea of feeding on innocent humans that’s all,” you say insecurely.

“Well honey, it’s not a big deal. It’s been done for centuries,” he says with a chuckle.

You look up at him not sure exactly what to say.

“I know, I just thought you could learn how to feed differently,” you say unsure. “Maybe we can learn how to feed differently, there could be other ways.” You say, trying to make this a group effort.

“Honey I’m not understanding the issue here. I’m just going to do what I’ve always done. There’s nothing wrong in that-,” he starts to say but you grow more frustrated and want to just drop the subject.

“But maybe you don’t need to do that,” you try to press.

“Well, I don’t understand honey-,” he says confused.

“You know what, forget it,” you say under your breath.

“What was that?” He asks, confused by your snarky tone. You feel your patience run dry and can’t hold back what you’ve really wanted to say.

“Because I know how you feed Elvis! I’ve seen you! I walked in on you don’t you remember?!” You snap, closing your eyes frustratedly and seeing him in between the legs of that girl on his bed. His eyes grow shocked in disbelief and regret washes over his face when you look back at him. “You don’t just bite someone, you get them all worked up,” you add.

“Oh no, no honey, I didn’t mean I’d be doing any of that. I wasn’t even thinking of doing that!” He tries to explain. You’re too ticked off to let him try to explain himself.

“You’ve told me, you’ve told me how you have a certain way you’ve always fed, especially in Vegas,” you tell him.

“Oh baby please, I wasn’t remotely thinking of that kind of stuff. You know I don’t want anyone but you,” he says firmly.

“I know, I believe you don’t want anyone else. But it’s never been a habit you were able to break. If you get in that situation…” you say carefully.

“I won’t! I won’t be in that situation. I’d never let it get that far,” he says sternly, grabbing your hands to make you listen. Maybe you were being irrationally fearful and that fear and jealousy was getting the best of you.

“You let it get that far with me,” you grumble. He throws you a look of disbelief, unable to respond to the crass comment.

“You’d be in that situation for a whole month when you’re in Vegas. Elvis, I’m not a complete idiot, I know there are girls every night that try to throw themselves at you while you’re on stage. Throwing you their room cards and panties at your feet!” You say annoyed. He doesn’t say anything, just stands there motionless scowling. You take a deep breath and try to keep yourself calm.

“And I’m just afraid with your temptation for blood… you could fall into your old ways. I just thought you could feed differently that’s all,” you say softly.

Elvis lets out a frustrated groan, hating that this was even being talked about.

“Goddamn it! Why does this need to be brought up?! Why can’t you just drop it?!” He snaps.

You feel your blood boil with anger over the tone he has. He never talks to you like this. The last time he talked to you this way was when you questioned him about the shards of the champagne bottle you found in the bathroom. How he was getting cornered about his need for blood and you almost finding out the truth.

Your anger was overwhelming and you could barely keep your breathing from faltering. Another rude comment from him was going to send you into a blind fit of rage. You don’t even know how else to continue this conversation when you realize you never had a chance to ask him an important question.

“Were you ever going to tell me what you are? Did you ever want to see how I’d honestly react? I mean your housekeepers here took it well, why didn’t you give me that chance?” You ask him frustrated. “I had my suspicions early on that something was wrong with you.”

Your question takes him by surprise and his eyes are sorrowful and full of hurt as he thinks about it.

“Yes, yes of course I wanted to tell you. When I realized I wanted to keep you around after tasting your blood, I knew I’d have to tell you sooner than later. It would be too tricky to hide how much I wanted to feed from you.” He says harshly, tracing your neck with the back of his finger. You slowly take a step back, taking his finger off of you. He doesn’t like this reaction you have from his touch and balls his hand at his side.

“And it was tricky, it only got harder. Having you intimately made me want to masquerade the truth and live in this perfect bubble with you. One where you didn’t know vampires existed and shield you from the awful reality,” he says matter-of-factly. He takes another step away from you, throwing the empty blood bag in the sink.

“It was all different with you. All of them knew me when I was human, they loved me then and wanted to stay. You didn’t know me. And the attraction we had right away was a huge distraction for me to tell you the truth. I was too afraid you’d hate me like every other woman has when I’ve told them,” he scowls.

“You wouldn’t have told me if I didn’t already have my suspicions hmm?” You ask him.

“Yes, you’re probably right. If you weren’t so curious, I probably wouldn’t have told you. Not until you absolutely needed to know,” he huffs.

“And when was that going to be? Walking in on you with a half-naked girl and feeding off her was a better option?! Elvis that really messed me up, it messed up everything,” You gripe.

“No of course not! I’m sorry, truly! I wish I could take that back. But I don’t know any of my abilities anymore since we’re bonded now! I have no clue what I need in order to survive. I don’t have answers to anything. This was all a hypothetical situation that I’m sure I’d never let myself go to,” he says raising his voice.

“Then just say you’ll feed differently! That’s all I’m asking you to say. We can figure out the rest later,” you huff.

Elvis pauses, way too long for your liking and you are seconds away from yelling at him. He takes a deep breath in, nervously playing with his rings.

“I don’t know how much blood I need anymore,” he says low, almost unheard from where you’re standing.

“Neither do I! We’ll still need blood no matter what. But I’m not the one who keeps suggesting that your way of feeding is the only option! How would you feel if I did the same thing with a guy in order to feed?” You say, your voice is shaky and on edge. He won’t look at you, too hurt from this whole conversation. You try to regroup yourself and try to get him to understand where you’re coming from.

“I’m asking you to feed differently. You have to understand why that would hurt me. Can you feed on someone just to feed, nothing more…,” you ask as gently as you could. It didn’t matter, posing the question made Elvis ticked off. He looks away from you, unable to hide his emotions.

“Elvis please, just answer the question.” You say impatiently.

He looks back at you and you can feel the anger run off of him. You have to hold your breath as he looks at you, his anger suffocating you whole. He takes his time in answering you, breathing shallowly and keeping his heated gaze on you.

“You’re asking,” he says slowly, “if I can feed on someone, and not seduce them is that it?” he says through his teeth.

It sounded awful, you knew it did. But he told you the truth months ago, that’s what he’s done for the last few years especially in Vegas.

“I guess I am,” you say heated

He takes a long pause, slumping back on the counter behind him and looking up at you fuming.

“I wish you never found out the way you did… I wish I could make you forget that part forever,” he says low.

“Yeah me too…” you tell him, your words hitting him like a ton of bricks.

A long silence fills the space between you two. You hold your breath, still waiting for Elvis to answer you. He barely looks at you, too upset at this all.

“I deserve the questioning, as much as it pains me, I did it to myself. I’ve made awful choices and it hurt you along the way… So maybe you’re right, maybe I still don’t have the control to not feed on humans that way.” He says shortly. You feel a lump in your throat form and the tears well in your eyes.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to give up and think that’s your only option? Just like you always have.” You snap.

He pushes past you and goes out of the kitchen. You follow closely behind him upstairs as he goes into the bedroom, taking two steps at a time. He quickly changes his shirt to a long sleeve and changes his shoes as well.

“Where are you going?” You ask him.

“Out,” he says rushing back out the bedroom door.

He rushes down the stairs and you grab onto his wrist before he opens the front door. He grunts when he feels you grab tightly onto him.

“What?” He says coldly.

“Where are you going? Take me with you,” you say again.

“I don’t know but when I come back, I’ll be sure to tell you what awful things I have done. Since you’re convinced that’s all I know how to do,” he scowls, pulling his arm away from you and slamming the door behind him.

•

Tagging🖤: @powerotelvis @burninlovebutler

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year

Text

With Good Weather Brings Good Breedings. (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Poly!KiriBaku x Black!Bunny Girl!Reader

Synopsis: In which your spring cycle comes a little earlier than usual and you’re too afraid of your boyfriends–whom you’ve been dating for five months–thinking you’re weird instead of telling them about your cycle during mating season. However, during a picnic thrown especially for you, your two favorite pros are more aware than you realize and are more than happy to help you with your little problem.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS STAY TF AWAY), Poly Romance, AgedUp!Pro!Bakugou & Kiri (they’re in their late 20s), Black!Reader, Bunny Girl!Reader, Mating Cycle, In Heat, Dick Crazed, Public Sex/Exhibitionism, Foreplay, Nipple Play, Light Foot Fetish (Toe Sucking), Clit Stimulation, Overstimulation, Deepthroating, Biting/Nibbling, Hair/Ear Pulling, Tail Stroking, Spanking, Face Fucking, Light Hints of Dacryphilia, Degradation, Name Calling, Pet Names, Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Full Nelson, Mating Press), Non-Protected PIV/Non-Safe Sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), Mentions of Breeding, Squirting, Creampies, Facials, Aftercare

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Sex (Dick Sucking/Deepthroating/Face Fucking; Cunnlingus; Nipple Play; Spitroast; Doggystyle; Creampies); Masturbation

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Happy spring, y’all!! Decided to celebrate by giving y’all another smutty short fic. You’re welcome, enjoy & thank you tons for the love on my work so far. Stay safe out there cuz COVID ain’t over. Wear your mask!! -Jazz

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four

Read on AO3 here!

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

CHAPTER FIVE: JUST THE THREE OF US.

When you suddenly awaken from your orgasm-hazed nap, you find yourself staring up at the ceiling of an apartment that isn’t yours.

In fact, the bedroom that you’re currently in isn’t yours either. It is too pristine; too big; too expensive-looking. The king-sized bed you find yourself awakening in is comfortable and soft, draped with a gray comforter and throw pillows, one of which is under your head.

You softly moan as you move onto your back, your mind foggy from sleep. How long have you been sleeping? Where even are you? You try to grasp for a memory to retrace your steps, but the fog of sleep won’t allow you.

The room is empty, the curtains drawn. The bedroom is dark enough that you weren’t rudely roused from your sleep by any light, but not so much that you can’t make out the hardwood floors, private bathroom to your left, and bedside table where you see a glass of juice, your phone, and an alarm clock reading 4:21 PM.

Your stomach immediately drops as fractured memories from earlier before come rushing back to you, including never going back to work. “Oh, shit!” you shout, immediately jumping out of the bed and falling on the floor from how high up the bed is. Who the fuck sleeps here with their bed like that?

You quickly reach for your phone, checking for a voicemail or a text message from your boss. You find nothing. Does he even know you didn’t come back? What if he thinks you left? As you begin to panic, you find a framed photo sitting beside the alarm clock of Bakugou and Kiri at Disney World, Kiri’s lips on a blushing Bakugou’s cheek.

Realization hits you like a truck. You’re in Bakugou and Kiri’s penthouse. But how?

You begin to search the bedroom for your clothes. As you do, you find yourself naked under a shirt that is way too big for you, making you feel like you’re wearing a dress. You find your clothes neatly folded on an armchair near the drawn curtains, including your shoes and tote bag with everything in it. As you go to hastily get your clothes to get dressed, the bedroom door suddenly stops just as you’re stripping off the shirt.

You squeak, your tail and ears fluffing up as you’re startled. “Whoa, baby,” Kiri chuckles, slipping into the room. “Relax; it’s just us.” Bakugou follows behind him, carrying with him a plate of sliced fruit: strawberries, blueberries, and cantaloupe. “We heard your footsteps up here and figured you’d be hungry.”

You stare at your boyfriends in confusion, unable to process what’s happening enough to ask them the questions that are in your head: 'Why am I here? How did I get here? What happened? Was I fired?'

Bakugou scowls as you as Kiri closes the door behind him and flicks on the light. “Why do you look so weird?” he asks, placing the plate at the end of the bed. Your eyes flick to the alarm clock: 4:30 PM. “What happened?” you finally ask. “How did I get here?”

Concern crosses Kiri’s face at your question. “We brought you here,” he explains. “After you fell asleep during our picnic, we figured you’d need rest and took you back here. Is that okay with you?”

You gape at him, wondering if he’s serious. “Da fuck? No, it’s not okay with me!” you shriek in a panic. “I skipped out on work! I was supposed to be back at my cubicle almost three hours ago and now–“

“Baby, baby,” Kiri coos, moving to take your wrists into his hands. He begins to rub small circles into the insides of your wrists, calming your frazzled state. “It’s okay. Katsuki and I took care of that for you. We contacted your boss, told him you weren’t feelin’ too good, and that we were takin’ you to the hospital to get checked out.”

“We got your discharge papers to prove it,” Bakugou adds, smirking mischievously at you. “We have a friend at the hospital that we saved once from a villain attack. If your boss needs proof that you were sick, we’ve got it for ya.”

You blink at your boyfriends, furrowing your brows. “But…” You trail off, not sure what to say or how to take any of this. Especially when the fractured memories of today’s events come rushing back. Every single embarrassing, intimate moment you shared with your boyfriends on that blanket comes slamming back into you, especially the moment you peed on Kiri’s dick.

You flush in embarrassment, wanting to dig a hole into the floor and never come out again. You acted totally inappropriately today. Like a complete slut! How could they ever look at you the same way again after what you did today?

“Just relax and eat some of the fruit Bakugou prepared for you,” Kiri tells you, moving you to sit down on the edge of the bed beside Bakugou. “He spent the whole afternoon worrying over you after today.” Bakugou glares up at him, his face as red as Kiri’s hair. “When we got back here, he put you in his shirt and wanted to be the one to put you to bed. Guess ‘Suki’s got it bad for ya.”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou growls as his boyfriend cackles at him.

You begin to nervously wriggle your hands, twisting and untwisting the fabric to Bakugou’s shirt. “That’s what I need to talk to y’all about,” you sigh, immediately gaining their undivided attention. “I-I’m so sorry about what happened today. That picnic you guys planned was so nice and I feel like I ruined it with my stupid mating cycle!”

You huff, hiding your face behind your hands. You’ve been so long trying to prove to them that you’re not like the bunny girls society perceives you as, and now, all of that work has been ruined because of your stupid, horny actions. “I’m so embarrassed,” you groan, feeling a fresh bed of tears beginning to rise behind your eyes.

Bakugou suddenly snatches your hands away from your face, his expression irked. “Da fuck are you talkin’ about?” he growls. “We wanted that shit just as much as you did. And don’t sit there and feel sorry for something you have no control over.”

You gape at him, shocked at his compassionate words. “He’s right, sweetie,” Kiri adds, taking a seat next to you. He lays a comforting hand on your thigh, softly stroking the skin. “You don’t have to feel bad about any of that. We wanted to help you in any way we could.”

He leans in toward you, his mint-scented breath making your stomach flip. “And we fuckin’ loved it,” he softly growls to you. Bakugou hums in agreement, his own hand moving to grip your other thigh.

Your heart leaps in excitement and joy at their words, but your mind is still churning those anxious, negative thoughts at you. “B-but,” you stutter in protest, “I wanted the first time we had sex to be special. I…” You trail off, flushing in embarrassment as you glance at Kiri. “I had peed on you,” you weakly say.

A blanket of silence falls over you three until Kiri and Bakugou suddenly erupt into laughter. You stare at them, confused and dumbfounded. “Wait, wait!” Bakugou guffaws, his pretty face split into a grin. “You really thought that was piss?” He begins to fall into hysterical laughter again, making you even more confused.

“Baby,” Kiri giggles, doing his best to calm himself, “that wasn’t piss; that was squirt. I’ve been waitin’ for the day to see if I could make you do that!” You blink at him, awestruck. You squirted? You didn’t even know you could do that. You’ve certainly never triggered it for yourself.

“Wow,” you say breathlessly, a light giggle leaving your lips. “I-I guess I still have a lot to learn about myself.” You glance between your boyfriends adoringly, slipping your hands to run over their thighs. “And about you two.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Kiri happily replies, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Anything you ever need or want, you come to us. We’re happy to help you with anything, gorgeous.��

“And if you ever need some persuasion…” Bakugou scoots closer to you, his hand gripping your thigh a bit tighter. “We can do that for you, too.” Kiri hums in agreement, shifting positions so your hand “accidentally” slips to land on his dick underneath his sweats.

Already, that familiar twitch of your pussy begins to make its appearance. Though your heat has been satiated for now, you know that it’s only a matter of time until it comes rising up again before the week is over. The only difference is now, you’re not afraid or ashamed to ask for some help from your very willingly, very attentive, and very sexy boyfriends. You couldn’t have asked for better partners, and you want to show them that.

You suddenly stand and move away from them, loving their confused stares. “Actually,” you purr, “I had such an amazing time today with you two, I think we should do it again. After all, we still need to learn more about each other, and my heat isn’t over yet.”

You slide your hands Bakugou’s shirt and begin to slowly slip it off, revealing your naked body to your awestruck boyfriends. You smile at them, placing your hands confidently on your hips as you stand exposed to them, never hiding and never shunning away from their gazes. “So what’s up, boys?” you ask. “If you don’t have plans for later, should we go round two?”

Bakugou and Kiri don’t need you to ask twice. In an instant, their clothes are off, their hands and mouths are all over you, and they’re fucking you into every position under the sun into the night until you are soaked, spent, and positively exhausted.

And feeling absolutely loved.

THE END.

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