#I wish you a very hope-you-spill-red-wine-in-your-lap | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettygreenpills · 1 year

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Hello!! I hope you're having a good day?

I really liked the idea of "Confessions and fire whiskey" and i was wondering if you could write the anon's idea but with Larissa/teacher reader? Please?🌺

I hope you want to write it and if you don't, it's perfectly fine too, thank you for reading this♥️

~💋

Hello anon, of course! Here you go:) sorry this took me so long, but I’ve been writing this piece by piece.

Curious - Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Warnings: gxg smut, fingering, drunk sex, teacher x principal, eating out, etc.

“I don’t understand why do we need men. Like- women can do what they can in bed, can’t they?” Larissa asked you and you realized that it wasn’t only you who was getting pretty drunk. She was waving with her hand in which the glass of wine was and you realized that it wouldn’t be good it it spilled. So you stood up from the armchair, walked over to her.

“I think it is enough for you Larissa. You don’t want your carpet all from red wine now, do you?”

“I will put this down if you show me how it works,” she challenged you and you only blinked few times, looking her into the eyes. She chuckled and you took a deep breath, taking the glass of wine. “Accepted?”

“No Larissa. You’re drunk and you’ll probably regret it tomorrow,” you said and you put the red wine onto the coffee table, only few seconds before Larissa pulled you into her lap.

“Please?”

The eyes she gave you. Oh that would get you onto your knees immediately. You looked her into her eyes with a question in them and when she nodded her head, you closed your eyes.

“Y/n, please-“

You slowly slid onto your heels and sat down in front of the woman. Looking up at her, she seemed like she had sobered up in that very second and you licked your lips.

“Are you sure?”

“Just fuck me already Y/n,” she whined and that was the first time you heard your boss whine.

“As you wish,” you said quietly and smiled a little when you realized what was about to happen. This was a big dream of yours and you were sure Larissa would regret it the next morning. But you didn’t want drunk Larissa to fire you. “Can you roll your dress up for me?”

Larissa did as you asked her the following second. She was so fast and you smiled over her reactions. And when your eyes landed on her lace panties, you swallowed. Lord, she was stunning.

“Can I take these off?”

“Yeah,” she said only and you hooked your fingers in her panties. Looking up at her, you saw her biting her lip and that made you continue in your work. When her panties fell to her ankles, she spread her legs by herself, revealing her glistening cunt to you.

You climbed closer to her and opened her legs wide so you could fit between her thighs. When Larissa opened them even more for you, you knew she was okay with it. And the fun could start.

“Tell me when it is getting too much okay?”

“Y/n, for fucks sake, just fuck me already,” Larissa whined out and as soon as she realized what did she say, she covered her mouth with her palm and looked at you. You smiled and took her hand off her mouth.

“I want to hear you love,” you said and lowered your face, getting closer to her core. Once you tasted her and she moaned quietly, biting on her lip, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to get enough of this woman. Your tongue was sliding over her folds and then between them, earning moans and whimpers from Larissa. Once your tongue slid inside of her, her hand found your hair and she pulled it softly, making you moan against her, sending vibrations into her body.

“You’re so fucking good at this- keep going, Y/n, love,” Larissa moaned and you used your hand. You circled her clit in tight torturing circles, while your tongue was working. Larissa gasped when you pressed your fingers against her clit and you smiled. “Fingers- faster please-“

“As you wish beautiful,” you pulled away and replaced your tongue with your fingers. Using only two of them first, you smoothly slid inside and watched the blonde’s face turn into your favorite face expression of hers so far.

“Yeah Y/n- just like that-“

Larissa however didn’t know what you were about to do. You sped up your hand, catching her off-guard. She moaned loudly, so loudly and you could only enjoy those moans of hers. Your other hand was on her clit and you were literally torturing her.

“Can you handle another one?”

“Please-“

“Since you asked so nicely, I don’t see a problem here,” you assured her and prepared another finger. As soon as you pushed it in, Larissa arched in her back and you could feel butterflies in your stomach. Knowing how badly did she want to cum, you sped your hand up, watching her chest rise and fall faster than you remembered. “That’s a good girl Larissa. Look how you’re taking my fingers. Like a good little girl. Are you a good little girl Larissa?”

“Yes- shit Y/n- Yes I am,” Larissa was gasping what made her answer a little more difficult to form, but you understood he perfectly.

She was wet. So wet. Listening to her sounds you were getting from her made your stomach do a twirl in your body and you continued. Circling her clit tightly and pushing your fingers as deep as possible, to bring her the release she was craving that long.

“Lay down,” you said and pulled the handle which was on the armchair. It adjusted so Larissa was laying by that moment and you told her to put her legs onto the armrests. And she did so. Chuckling, you crawled up to her so you were face to face and your hand could continue in fucking her.

“Y/n- faster please-“ she asked but you didn’t know the rest of her request because you shut her up with a kiss. While you had your mouth in here, you sped your hand up, fucking her as a little whore. Larissa was whining into your mouth, moaning even and you were smiling into the kiss. Your fingers were stretching her out so well, you could feel how wet she was, how needy she was… and soon enough you could hear her.

“Love- make me cum- oh shit, make me cum-“

“Soon Larissa, soon,” you said because you felt her clenching hardly. You were focusing on her clit and on her soft spot, trying to help the woman out the best you could. You were speeding your fingers up and you had a feeling of that Larissa would cum faster once she’s drunk. Your fingers were working, Larissa was moaning. With those moans she was begging for her release and you were about to give it to her.

“Close Y/n- close- fuck-“ she said in a high pitched tone and you chuckled. Showing your fingers as deep as you could, you pulled them back and repeated the process. When you saw her shaking with her mouth agape, you knew she was falling over the edge. You pushed your fingers deep and kept them in the same place to make the woman cum. What also happened.

“Fuck Y/n!” She whimpered, throwing her head back. Larissa arched in her back, pushing her tits up and closed her legs, enjoying the wave of orgasm. You, however kept fingering her, so she could enjoy her release. Cumming all over your fingers. “Yes- oh my god-“ Larissa was breathing heavily and her walls clenched around your fingers really hard. It was the last one you got. Giving her few more thrusts, you pulled your fingers out after and looked at her swollen cunt.

“Oh darling this is all messy. Should I clean you up?”

Larissa wasn’t able to answer you. She just nodded her head, her mind all fuzzy and blurry. You pulled your fingers out, reaching them out to her so she could suck on them while you were licking her sweet cunt.

“Mhm- mh-“ she was moaning while she was sucking your fingers clean and you were lapping all of her cum. Once she was finished she let go of your fingers with a ‘pop’ and moaned. “Holy shit- oh-“

You pulled away and licked your lips. Catching Larissa’s sight, you smiled at her and leant to her for a kiss which she gave you. Then you stroked her cheeks and smiled.

“I will run us a bath pretty. You just keep laying here, I’ll come for you.”

“Mhm,” she mumbled and you placed another kiss onto her lips, just a peck. Then you chuckled and walked past her, heading to the bathroom.

“Why would I need a man if I have you Y/n?”

As you heard that, you had to smile. Just then you realized the tickling in your chest. You and the principal were clearly more close than you ever imagined.

#fluff #smut #larissaweems #gxg #writers on tumblr #nevermoreacademy #nevermore #morticiaaddams #larissa x y/n #larissaxreader #drunksex #drunksmut #drunklarissa #sublarissa #lesbiancharacters

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lady-o-ren · 2 years

Text

NEVER WILL I LOVE THEE

CHAPTER ONE // CHAPTER TWO // CHAPTER THREE //

Ao3 Link ( HERE )

~ CHAPTER FOUR ~

The King of Albìōn has a penchant for art, particularly for paintings that adorn the walls of his private quarters. He stares up beneath one now as he pours himself a dram, depicting a stormy sea split by thunder and a ship lost in her tumultuous waves. But just as he brings his drink to his lips a voice comes from behind him.

"Isn't it rather early to be drinking?"

King Quentin turns around and lifts one feathered brow at the princess seated by the windows open to a view of the mainland. She wears a dress the sweet color of plum wine with fitted sleeves and a belt of woven gold around her waist that matches the thin cord threaded through her plait gathered around her face like a crown.

He raises his drink.

"A conversation with you, my dear, always calls for something exceptionally fortifying," he smiles, meaning his words teasingly, and hopes she receives it as such for she hasn't sought out his company in months. But alas . . .

"You should've filled the goblet then," Claire says dryly, the look of betrayal still lingering in her eyes from when he bartered her hand away.

The king sighs and sadly replies -

"You're right. As always." And tips his goblet to his mouth wishing he had poured himself a punch of whiskey.

"And I'm right about this, I think." There's the slightest hesitance in her voice as she thumbs the thin bandage wrapped around her hand no longer bound with a handkerchief and he knows they're back to talking about the heir to the mountain throne.

"You think? Just yesterday you threatened to throw yourself off a cliff to avoid marrying the man and now you're saying we should align ourselves with him. What's changed your mind?"

He couldn't imagine hers being so easily swayed.

Nor could the princess, baffled still at the sudden shift in her impression of Jamie.

"Jam - King James just isn't what I imagined him to be when I threatened to tear his head off. He -"

The elder man's body jerks in shock, spilling his drink down his cuff and the rug beneath him.

"You did what?!"

Claire bites her lip, crossing her arms as she leans back into the plush velvet of her chair. It's the first time King Quentin has seen anything approaching a smile on her face in his presence in a very long time.

"I threatened to kill the Red Warrior King and he -" her voice softens remembering the startling sincerity in his eyes. "He pledged me his hand - not in marriage but in friendship. To protect me - Albìōn -" she corrects herself with a shake of her head, furrowing her brow. "from Wolverton."

"Wolverton isn't the warlord Dùghall was. Him we can manage and have so far," he assures her, pulling a fine stitched handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his hands.

"How are we managing when the wolves are already pacing at our doorstep?" Claire asks in what sounds like a thinly veiled jab at her uncle's competence that's sharp as any arrowhead right through his gut.

It was true that there were sightings of strange fellows crossing back and forth into Albìōn territory from the east, rogue bandits they were thought to be, but were now strongly suspected of being Wolverton's men scouting the terrain.

He and his advisors thought it had to do with a dispute regarding their port and had fortified their border. But of course one never knew what could drive a man to be so utterly reckless to possibly start a war.

Unless he was desperate for something else entirely.

And that very real possibility made the king's head throb and for the muscles behind his eyes to pinch.

"But with the might of Scotia's army at our side -" the princess continues, hands turning to fists in her lap. "he wouldn't dare make an enemy of us."

"Oh, but he would," he replies grimly, taking a seat across from his young niece, bracing his hands on his knees.

"To the world you're still engaged to the bloodthirsty Red King. To threaten us would be suicide and should've been enough to defer any strike against us, if that's Wolverton's plan. But to place our safety in a man who has yet to truly prove his decency would be disastrous for us if he's playing us for fools."

"He's proven himself to me. And you, hasn't he? Why else would he still be here? Why haven't you sent him away?"

King Quentin doesn't know himself, maybe he wants to believe in the young man so desperate to prove himself honorable and trustworthy, and lifts a stocky shoulder.

"Because there must be more to that fool who took one look at you and was able to give you up."

Claire scoffs, embarrassed, and her uncle gives a soft chuckle.

"And he isn't Dùghall. Thank God," he says with gratitude to the heavens above.

"Or Wolverton . . ." She adds, and together they exchange a tense gaze.

He then sucks in a sharp breath, his hand flying to his brow, as a bolt of pain cracks through his skull.

Claire quickly moves to her uncle's aid and bends to her knees.

"It's another migraine isn't it, Uncle Lamb?"

He's been plagued by them since Dùghall set his eyes on Albìōn. They make his heart race and sometimes have even caused him to faint, a real troubling sight to see.

But he smiles through the hammering pain, peeling one eye open.

"You haven't called me Lamb in ages, dear girl"

"Uncle!"

He winces and digs his knuckle hard between his eyes where flecks of light scatter his sight. "Yes, yes, it's a migraine and only that," he says and pats her inquiring hands away. " Didn't sleep much last night. Little wonder why. I'll send for Master Raymond."

The princess shakes her head.

"He's on the mainland today but I know what to do."

Claire's been shadowing the Master herbalist for years now wanting to be more than just another figurehead and serve her people the best way she can. She's done everything from grinding herbs to helping set a few bones and is more than capable of helping her uncle.

But Lamb shakes his head and even that slight movement is enough to make him grit his teeth. He didn't want to worry her over nothing. A girl who lost both her parents far too young.

"No," he says, already regretting the gruffness in his voice. "Master Raymond is who I need. He's set me right before and it wouldn't do if he didn't earn his keep."

Claire of course takes offense and stands, steeling her heart against him once more.

"Then I'll go and fetch him myself," she says shortly, adding - "I'll have someone tend to you in the meantime so don't dare move a muscle until then."

And so the princess leaves in a swish of her dress that trails behind her, quick on her feet.

~ The Mainland ~

In the heart of the city is L’Hôpital des Anges, a charity hospital run by the formidable yet saint-hearted Mother Hildegard (another of the princesses' teachers) and the nuns of the Couvent des Anges that is free to the public and where Master Raymond offers his services. He even has his own personal quarters to muck around in that connects to the large outdoor garden.

That's where Claire hurries to after ferrying over the water and weaving through the hospital corridors where her presence is a welcomed sight amongst the nuns and other physicians who treat her with the same grace as a comrade and dip their head to her. She approaches Raymond's quarters down one of the few quiet hallways and presses her dark cloaked shoulder against the heavy door, entering slightly out of breath.

But it's not the little herbalist she finds tending to his rickety still over the hearthfire, it's the mighty Red King.

The young princess feels a strange warmth fluttering beneath her skin at the sight of him before her. It's something greater than excitement and more potent than a fever, almost aching like a thorn embedded deep inside her chest. She can't quite put her finger on it but knows she hasn't been the same since she boldly took his scarred hand in hers, heard him speak from his heart.

"What are you doing here?" Claire asks, sounding breathy, as she pats down any flyway curls that may have unraveled with a sudden self conscious hand.

Jamie looks over his shoulder, surprised, and straightens himself to his full erect height. He's dressed in layers of blue, a deeper shade than his eyes, with a simple gray cape draped over his proud shoulders, fastened with a silver brooch beautifully shaped into a running stag. And at his waist shines the hilt of a great brutal sword, belted to his breeches that tuck into his high leather boots that are lightly muddied at the heels with sprigs of trotted leaves.

"Yer Highness." He bows with an irrepressible grin. "Ye're a sight I wasn't expecting to see so soon t'day."

She draws closer to him, letting her fingertips drag against the edge of a long stained counter near her, careful of the clutter atop.

"I could say the same about you. Of all places I wouldn't have expected you here." And she gives him the expectant look of someone used to getting answers then and there making a glint of amusement color his cat-eyed gaze.

"Weel I was told that both you and yer uncle wouldn't be speaking wi' me till later in the day and I heard wonders about yer Master Raymond so I came to see him for myself. Wanted to know if he could do anything for this."

He flexes his scarred right hand, turning it over in self examination with a look of loathing that stabs sharply at that tender place inside the princess's heart.

"It still pains you?" She softly asks.

"It always will, I think," he says with a mournful, crooked smile, his fiery mane shielding the helpless emotion warring in his eyes. "But aye, I take yer meaning. And there's more of me that's ruined than not that I wondered if he could help wi' too."

It wasn't only his hand but his back too, she recalls from their conversation last night. Black Jack flayed him to the bone when he was only a young lad, intent on torturing him to his last breath.

Yet here he stands.

A man who exudes valiance. Whole and alive.

She pushes off from the counter that gives a little uneven shake and comes to Jamie's side, the last of any hesitation she carries melting away. She reaches a hand for his leather bound wrist while her other presses into the ruined flesh of his palm.

"I know there's hope for you yet, Jamie. Master Raymond works miracles here, all our physicians do."

He lifts his gaze to hers, feeling the ache in his hand fade as if there's magic in her touch, in the way she speaks his name.

"I'd hope so," he manages to say, wrapping his fingers around her own. "We're surrounded by nuns are we not?"

And together they share a warm sparkling smile.

But over by the wall behind them where honeycomb shelves have been built into the squared stones, Murtagh groans and rolls his crow-black eyes before taking a heavy swig from his silver cup full of cherry brandy no doubt courtesy of Master Raymond. Wherever he may be.

Claire jumps having not noticed the older man before, taking in his leather armor and the perpetual scowl he wears, and pulls away from Jamie looking more than a little flustered realizing they've had an audience all this time.

"Dinna fash, Yer Highness. Tis only my godfather and personal guard, Sir Murtagh of Broch Mordha, " Jamie proudly announces, feeling his heart jitter introducing her to one of the last of his kin.

"Yer Highness," greets Murtagh, bowing without an ounce of disdain he usually bears for protocol, and even makes an effort in softening his harsher features. "Tis an honor to meet ye."

"The honor is mine, Sir," Claire smiles, having regained her composure, remembering this was the man who saved Jamie from the sadistic clutches of Black Jack, brother of King Wolverton. "Your King has told me a little about you, all good I promise and nothing short of heroic."

Never one good for compliments, Murtagh grunts modestly but the fondness in his eyes for his godson is apparent as the pink color peeking through the coarse black hairs sprouting from his face.

Seeing his bashfulness, the princess gestures with her chin. "How's the brandy?"

Much more comfortable with talk of drink, Murtagh narrows his gaze down into the rich red contents of his cup.

"It needn't be sae sweet but it's none sae bad either. Though I'd prefer something stronger . . ." He raises a thick furry brow in hope and Claire grins at his directness, taking an immediate liking to the guardsman.

"That blue bottle above you might be more to your liking. It's absolutely violent and is sure to grow hair out your ears."

Intrigued, Murtagh glances to the shelves behind him and sees ( amongst a grand assortment of jars and concoctions better left untouched) a indigo bottle glimmering like a gemstone in the firelight.

"I thank ye, Yer Highness. Ye're a grand deal more hospitib than that wee froggy, " he says with approval (good as a smile coming from him), as he plops down on a stool pulled out from underneath the counter, and uncorks the bottle.

"Oh? What did he do to you?" Claire knows her mentor is a strange fellow who takes great joy in making people squirm and wonders if he tortured the men with the horrors of parasitic and fleshy infections.

Jamie chuckles as he rubs his big hand down the strong lines of his jaw, face dashed with pink. "I'm afraid it's something no lady should ever hear but I assure ye the moment was one I'll treasure forever."

Murtagh growls in retort, dribbling the golden liquid down his throat that indeed burns him from his throat to his ears.

"Oh , dear," she grins. "Where is he now?"

"He said he needed to fetch something from the garden before tending to me but I think he might have taken the opportunity to escape over the wall from my godfather's ire."

Then as if summoned, the wee froggy hops into the scene.

He comes from the outside garden that's a blur behind the far wall made of paneled glass and creeping with ivy that crawls up the wood-beamed ceiling.

"Milady! What can I do for you today?" The little herbalist beams with toothless delight, and fisting what looks like two shrunken heads he's pulled from the ground that he drops on the counter in front of the dagger-eyed Murtagh, giving him a none too subtle wink.

Fingers tightening together beneath the dark velvet material of her cloak, Claire glances hesitantly at Jamie not wanting to divulge her uncle's health, no matter how minor.

"Oh, well, our Lamb is feeling ill again, same as before, and I need you to take a look at him."

Jamie raises a quizzical brow as does Murtagh.

"Ah, I should've expected it considering . . . " He makes a flourish with his stubby wrist in the air towards her (or rather the oblivious young king), before fiddling with the ties at the back of his dirty brown smock. "I'll see him right away, milady. And in the meantime, you can see to your big fellow."

"Me? My fellow?" She blushes just as Jamie does, their close proximity to the fire not helping.

Raymond chuckles widely as he quickly puts on his coat

and reaches for his medicine box on a small bench beside the door leading to the hallway.

"You say you want to be more hands on with our patients, and there's no better specimen than the man you are to marry, no?"

Being that their broken engagement has yet to be announced, Claire couldn't very well argue with her teacher now could she?

Especially when said teacher knew the king would rather his niece busy her time elsewhere than fret over him.

"I suppose . . ."

"It's settled then. My surgery is at your disposal and so is my Malva out in the garden with her flowers. Shout for her if you need her assistance." Then halfway out the door, he says one last thing.

"And know I have every confidence in you."

The little man then bows before taking his leave.

" Ye have a wee lamb?" Murtagh asks curiously once the door snicks shut, doing his best to suppress a burp that's bubbling right beneath his sternum.

"What? Oh, yes. A gift from a merchant needing a salve for a burn. He gets sick now and then, but is rather sweet, my Lamb," she says, remembering the near neglectfulness of her uncle's parenting when she was a child and how he's grown into the role of her father since. It's enough for her to feel a small sense of shame for how she's treated him and moves to grab a hanging smock from the corner of the room to distract her mind with Raymond's task for her.

"That's an odd way fer a princess tae spend her time, here in this place wi' the sick and near deid," observes Murtagh, feeling deliciously warm from the drink rapidly loosening his graceless tongue.

Which is far too much for Jamie's liking, who glares at his godfather and throws one of the gnarled roots the little man left behind right at his head.

"What was that?" Claire asks, looking over her shoulder at them both, having discarded her cloak and replaced it with a smock, rolling up her dress sleeves.

Jamie looks at her with supreme boyish innocence and puts his hands behind his back just as Murtagh clasps the lump growing on his heavy set brow.

"Nothing. I was only saying I think that's a grand gift to have, a sensitivity to those suffering, I mean. If only there were more people like you there'd be less need for soldiers like me," he says with great admiration that suffuses his voice and it does not go unnoticed by the princess.

Looking between them, Murtagh sighs and decides there isn't much for him to do but to give in to fate - at least for the moment.

"I think I'll stretch my legs o'tside," he says abruptly, smacking his legs before standing. "I'll send the lass in fer ye, Yer Highness."

"That won't be necessary," says the princess, her attention on his godson. Gaze lingering on his powerful form, bright and besotted. His godson, damn him, is no better.

Murtaugh shakes his head and takes his leave - but not before grabbing the bottle and a rock of a fossilized reed off a potting table to prop the glass door open.

"Bi mothachail air do mhodh, A Rìgh."

(Mind yer manners, My King.)

Jamie barely tilts his head in acknowledgement as he watches with an enchanted smile, the princess on tiptoe reaching above herself for a thin vial stored in the honeycomb shelves the color of crushed elderberries.

"So what is it ye plan on torturing me wi'? " He teases, leaning his thick forearms on the counter between them, mindful of the mortars, pestles and odd bits and bobs atop it.

"Don't worry, I haven't been taught the art of amputation yet. I'm just going to make you a salve to ease the aches you have and we'll go from there."

A frown of disappointment crosses his face. "I've had those before. Leaves me feeling like a greased pig but none so better than I was before."

Claire hands him the vial.

"This one is different. It's oil infused with the flower of a freshly picked Casia stalk. A very rare and fussy plant to cultivate unless you're a very stubborn old man."

Jamie turns the glass cylinder over in his hands and mouths the name to himself, committing it to memory with a nod, and looking oh so adorable as he does so that completely contradicts his cruel-hearted reputation, absolutely charming Claire.

"Ye'd be a bonnie lass to have on the battlefield, ye ken," he says impressed, popping off the cork to take a whiff of the oil only to scrunch his nose.

Claire tries not to laugh and plucks the Casia oil from his big hands, setting it aside.

"I think for the moment I'll stick to merchants. Here." She dips her fingers into a small bowl of dried herbs yet to be sorted and crushes it between her hands to bring out their fragrance. "This is plain old rosemary. Much more pleasant to the senses."

Jamie leans over her cupped palms, breath warm as a kiss against her supple skin.

His lips near enough to do just that.

And both blush realizing what they're imagining.

Jamie straightens himself and runs a hand through his unbound hair, seeking for something to say.

"Uh, what else goes in this salve I can help ye wi'?"

Claire wipes her hands together, flustered to the bone around her ribs, making it hard to breathe, and takes the chance to calm herself, ordering him about the room.

The air soon fills with the spicy, floral scent of the salve mixture brewing over the flame of a small alcohol lamp Claire keeps careful watch of. She continuously stirs the contents even as the heat of it encourages a wispy forelock to fall across her eyes and tickle the soft tip of her nose.

She puffs and puffs at it to no avail.

"What?" Claire asks, feeling the young king's gaze upon her. "Amazed that I haven't burned down the room?"

On a stool across from her, Jamie crosses his arms, looking at her thoughtfully.

"Ye might yet,'' he answers playfully, watching an oily sheen coat her from her sensitive brow to the smooth pearl of her cheek as she loses patience altogether and brushes the curl away with the back of her hand. "It's only . . ."

He begins to say, but shrugs it off.

Claire hums curiously, just as another lock falls to tease her cheek that sets her pink lips pouting with ire, coaxing him to smile wistfully and speak.

"It's only that ye 'minded me of my mother just now," he softly murmurs, eyes faraway to those long ago memories. "Her hair was always coming undone. In the kitchen over a pot. Out in the fields wi' my father. Telling me a story to get me to bed or when I had a nightscare. And always one would softly brush across my cheek when she'd kiss me, spoke her love for me . . ."

He half smiles through a hard lump poking his throat and shakes his head.

"Anyway ye 'minded me of her, of home," he finishes shyly, ducking his head and fingering the grooves in the woodgrain, wondering where the hell Murtagh was and why he could never shut his gob around the princess.

But then Claire whispers her hand across his cheek, haloed by the light around them with utter tenderness shining in the heart of her amber-gold eyes.

"Your mother loved you terribly, didn't she?"

He breathes shakily. "I was smothered wi' it, by her and my father."

"And home? Where's home for you, Jamie?"

"Lallybroch," he says with loving reverence that encompasses more than just his childhood home. "A wee farm over the mountains of Scotia and the bonniest sight ye'd ever see. Lush wi' lochs shining bright like silver and trees tall as sky, hills full of thistles and heather to pony over, mebbe a faerie hidden somewhere . . ." He says with a hint of laughter.

"Lallybroch sounds like a dream," murmurs Claire, imagining his life of freedom dappled in green and dirt and shoving hay.

"It was. And I would be working my parents land right now if it weren't for Dùghall." His brutalized hand suddenly turns into a rageful fist. "He never forgave my father for marrying my mother and "stealing" her away. Blamed him for her death in childbirth yet couldn't be bothered to mourn his own sister at her grave. And when he realized that I, just for being born, could threaten his reign and inherit the mountain throne he spilled so much blood to gain, he had my father killed right before my eyes when I was only a boy of eight. Stole our land. Stole my sister. All to keep me in line so I'd soldier in his fucking name."

The vulgar word leaves his mouth without thought to the lady of gentle breeding but the princess is unbothered. She of course has bitten off far worse regarding her former betrothed.

"How long did you live this way?" She asks, resting her hand over his, loosening his hardened fingers to twine with hers.

"More than fifteen years he kept us apart, Jenny and I. It wasn't until he died that we were able to see each other again and she - she was so much smaller than how I remembered her in my heart and dreams. She's older than I but she barely comes to here now."

He raises his other hand above the countertop remembering how it was walking up the steps to the fortress that Dùghall had built for himself only to see Jenny running down them right into his chest with tears in her eyes, looking so much like both their parents.

Dark as a selkie. Radiant as spring. And very much alive.

"And God, she held me fierce. Like she was trying to impart the piece of my heart I'd lost when we were children."

Tears gloss the corner of Claire's dark lashes as a stinging thought comes to her.

"This must've been mere months ago, Dùghall hasn't been dead a year. You've barely spent any time with your sister at all, haven't you?"

Jamie shrugs and carefully strokes his thumb across her bandaged hand, down the length of her ring finger. "I had an obligation and a duty to a sassenach bride that I'd never seen nor met that needed to be set right."

"You left your sister's side for mine? How utterly, utterly -"

"Daft? Ludicrous?"

" - noble of you, you idiot!"

Jamie laughs heartily, shaking down to his belly. He can count on one hand how many times he's laughed like this in all these lost, miserable years.

"And I'm sorry for it, Jamie."

"Don't be," he squeezes her fingers, the bones delicate as a birds. "I left her in the care of a loyal kinsman and fellow soldier, more like a brother of my heart. Not that Jenny needs his protection. She's more a queen in my people's eyes than I their King. She was born to it, ye ken, bossing people around, " he says to make the princess smile and succeeds.

"But I do miss her wretchedly and the life we should've had where we owned by no one but the land and sky. Wish too I could've taken her and my godfather back to Lallybroch to start again - if the house still stands."

"Why didn't you?"

"What if someone more terrible than my uncle had taken Scotia for their own? I couldn't abandon my homeland. My kinsman. The men I'd soldiered wi'. Fate has forced this crown upon my heid just as she forced a sword in my hand, damned if I wanted it or not, but it's mine. Just as you must wear yers, I reckon, Yer Highness?"

In truth, Claire had never felt the weight of her own crown until she became her uncle's ward at the age of four.

More so when she was made aware of the curse for being born a girl.

"I must tell you something, King of Scotia," she says seriously, pulling her hand from Jamie's that leaves a worried knot on his brow.

"You've spoken of your duty to me, your pledge to protect me from harm, bared your bleeding heart to my own and shown me how decent of a man you are. Yet I've done you a disservice and like you, I need to set it right."

Jamie leans forward.

"Whatever it is, let it be the truth, always. Let that bind us together and never will we lose faith in the other. May I have this vow from ye, Yer Highness?"

He extends his hand between them and she takes it once more. Big and strong and warm.

"Always, you have my word," Claire nods, as she loosens a tightly held breath.

"There's a chance, a very small one, that Wolverton might be wanting more than just control of our port," she begins." You see, Dùghall wasn't the only man I've ever received a proposal from. I've had a fleet of them since I was born, mostly from old men planning ahead for their third or fourth child bride."

A low and beastly growl rumbles from Jamie's chest with blood in his eyes, giving the princess her first true glimpse of the fearsome warrior he is, one easily capable of plunging his sword into these filthy, faceless men.

It should frighten her, seeing him like this.

Yet the blood in her veins rushes with heat, especially just below her belly, and so she swallows hastily and continues on.

"Well one in particular was Wolverton. He sent me a few letters over the years until I was ten - too old for him then I suppose," she adds dryly. "But I was able to read one or two, ones my uncle hadn't yet burned, filled with God awful poetry and the worst attempts at flirtation you could ever read."

Jamie's nostrils flare hearing that last bit.

"Did the sick pervert ever make threats against ye?"

She shrugs, watching her forefinger brush against the golden hairs on the back of his palm, bristling like the curls on his head. He must have cat blood in his veins, she thinks.

"Not in the letters I read, nor did I think much about them at the time. He was no different than all the others wanting to claim me like some prize." But then she smiles, almost in disbelief . "Well, except you of course."

Jamie's mouth lifts lightly at the corner as he clasps his scarless hand over hers to now hold between both his own.

"I rather the respect and trust of a friend than a wife hellbent on beheading me."

Claire playfully rolls her eyes, taking a hand to her brow.

"You'll never let me forget that will you?"

" Never," he grins sharply. "As a man of the battlefield I greatly admire ye for it and encourage violence on any man who dares to harm ye, be it with his hands or his poetry. "

And then more seriously adds -

"And it may just have been poetry and nothing more to Wolverton. Maybe his men at the border are only there to rouse attention, for the man gets over lonely if he's not the center of it. But know, Yer Highness, that ye shall have nothing to fear as long as I'm here. I promise."

The young king's face is half gilded in daylight that floods in from the open door. Fierce and determined, with something aching in the rapturous blue of his eyes.

It gives the princess a sudden thunderous urge to press her mouth to his.

To steal his breath away.

It's a thought that should frighten her.

Yet she can't stop the giddy beat of her heart anymore than she can stop the sun from rising.

When the king is forced to take his leave at the insistence of his godfather sensing a shift in the clouds, the princess hurries to jar the salve she's made and wraps it carefully with cloth.

"Here, before you go," she says, and presses it into his hands.

Warmed to the tips of his ears, Jamie plops it inside his sporran with the crooked smile she's become so fond of and words of gratitude that make her blush like a rose that the young king finds far too attractive.

"Are ye sure ye won't let me escort ye back to the castle? I could wait here wi' ye until ye're ready to leave."

Claire shakes her head needing time alone to collect her thoughts and can only do so away from him.

"I told you I'm needed here, the sisters are always in need of a helping hand. But I promise I'll be with my uncle and you before the evening tide and fog comes in."

"I'd feel better if ye had a guardsman around ye. The more the better, " says Jamie, already eyeing the two doors in the room as if Wolverton were hiding behind them.

"I'm well protected in these walls, Good King." Jamie blushes sheepishly hearing that. "There are not only guards along the corridors but I have Malva here with me too. She's handy with a paring knife, ask any of the guards or patients who've tried to get cheeky with her."

Jamie flicks his gaze over to the small lass putting her treasures from the garden to dry on a rack, humming softly to herself. While she's not much of a formidable thing, a fleet of guardsmen around the princess is a comfort.

"Even so I think I'll worry. I'm - "

He pauses just as she reaches to brush another damnable curl away from her face and beats her to it without thought, his fingers gently skimming along the shell of her ear.

She gasps and Jamie's eyes go wide realizing what he's done. It was one thing to hold her hand, a touch she elicited. It was another thing altogether to touch her as if she were his.

"Forgive me, Yer Highness!" He takes a step back, gripped with shame. "I don't know what came over me. But I swear to ye -"

As Jamie trips over his tongue with apologies, Claire blinks once then twice before a small spill of laughter spouts from her lips she cups her hands to.

" I think I know what came over you. And I think you should call me by my name if you ever dare to touch me again. And I do, Jamie. Double dare you to."

It's Jamie's turn to look at her with disbelief as his chest swells with the overwhelming beat of his heart racing madly beneath.

He licks his lips. And breathes once then twice.

"As ye wish, My Lady Claire. But know that I've many names for ye I that I yearn to call ye by, each one a token of how blessed I think ye are."

Claire wonders if she's swaying on her feet when she lays a hand on his breast that he clasps his hand so she feels the truth of his heart beneath.

"Surprise me then when next we meet alone. Now go or Sir Murtagh will send in one of my guards if you tarry any longer. "

Jamie squeezes her hand, resisting the urge to press her palm to his mouth, and departs backwards with a bow before following after Murtagh waiting outside the door for him.

Moments pass where all Claire can do is fiddle with small things left on the counter, moving them around, wondering what exactly happened just now. What it all means. What will happen when he eventually takes his leave back to Scotia. Will she dare to kiss him goodbye?

Her mind so distracted she doesn't realize Malva's humming has stopped. Nor does she feel her presence behind her until it's too late and she's choking on laudanum pressed to her face.

Claire wakes sometime later, her senses still drugged and numbed, rocking to and fro as if she were in a boat.

Was she?

But how . . ?

There's darkness all around her or maybe her eyes are shut but then she sees a pair of vicious snake eyes that pierce through the enveloping fog.

And hears a voice, the hushed threat of a nightmare.

"Hello, Princess."

A/N: Sorry this took so long 🙏 Last chapter was actually supposed to end with Claire's kidnapping but once I wrote like 90 percent of it I realized oooo that's not gonna happen. These two dummies need to spend more time together. I just didn't know how to frame it other than I wanted it on the mainland for whatever reason. So I split Jamie's backstory so I'd have something to write if I couldn't figure it out. And it took forever to figure out the reason to get them on the mainland.

Also I'm really not good at writing multiple people in a scene or clothing description. It's very clumsy, I know.

Things I couldn't fit in:

*When Jenny is taken prisoner by Dughall he doesn't chain her in a dudgeon or anything. She's only a child of ten so he lets her have free reign around certain parts of the fortress. When She gets older that extends to the city Dùn Èideann (with a guard of course) which is how the people get to know her. And She doesn't try to escape because she was too afraid Dughall would have Jamie killed and vice versa. They were able to send a few letters in between at least.

*Murtagh was fiddling with a certain medicine jar and Raymond teased him by asking if he needed help getting an erection cause that's what the jar is for.

*Claire knowing Gaelic because of course she'd learn her would-be oppressor's mother tongue.

*I didn't want to use Malva since in the books she's just been so abused and fucked by the people around her but I needed someone and it was almost John Grey as a double agent but didn't give myself the space for it.

#jamie x claire #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #outlander fic #outlander

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spenciebabie · 3 years

Note

this is a long one feel free to elaborate on it 😚😚

so softdom!spence ofc (our faves)

and you guys and the bau gang are just hanging out and obviously sex comes up and they all say that it's obvious your the dom in ur relationship and Spence is like 🤨🤨. And you play along w it cause ur embarrassed asf and they keep teasing him for it cause he seems so submissive. So hes very 😠😠😠

Long story short fast forward you guys get home and he's WRECKING YOU and you left your phone at the bar so a few of them come to return it to you. Blah blah they hear wayyy more than they meant to and Spencer waked up to a bunch of horrified notifications from his friends lmaoo

wow I got carried away

-🧁

i also got carried away 😳

— —

they have this idea of spencer, and watching your dynamic that night they all seem to agree that he’s the type to respond to your every whim. and he is, but that’s only because he likes to treat you so well outside of the bedroom, because you live to make him happy in it.

so when they catch you shaking your empty glass in front of spencer and he wordlessly grabs it to get you a new drink, only placing a little kiss on your cheek, penelope breaks out in a little giggle.

“you’ve got that boy wrapped around your finger” she quirks an eyebrow but you wave your hand to dismiss her

“it’s mutual, we’re both hopelessly wrapped around each other’s fingers” you smile, darting your eyes across the room to see spencer leaning against the bar.

“sure you are, but you’re clearly the one in charge” emily jumps in to clarify, and you shake your head again as spencer slips into the booth beside you and places your drink down in front of you

“what are we talking about?” he asks,

“we’re just talking about how y/n really seems like she’s the one on top if you know what I mean” penelope giggles. but you can almost feel the heat radiating off of spencer next to you. when you turn your head to look at him he’s looking back at you with a confused expression.

“is that so?” he asks, folding his arms and leaning back in the booth

“yup, you’re like her little lap dog, always running around after her” emily says, pointing to your fresh glass of wine on the table with a smirk.

“ah i see, so that makes me the submissive one? just to clarify?” he asks and they both nod

“well that, and your whole personality” peneople says, growing looser lipped with each sip of her drink.

by the time you make it home you hope he’s forgotten, or at least cooled off enough that he doesn’t care. but the second the door shuts he’s got you pinned up against it with his hand wrapped around your throat, just tight enough to cut off your breathing a little.

“im the submissive one huh?” he growls “you like the idea of that? you like the team thinking that you’re the one in charge?”

your chest is already heaving with each labored breath as you look up at him.

“no sir, im sorry sir” you gasp

“you were a bad girl tonight, you know that don’t you? teasing me, riling me up like that” he groans as his other hand slowly creeps up your thigh and comes to a stop right against the fabric of your panties. slowly he runs a finger back and forth along the soaked fabric, watching the way you come undone so easily.

“if only they could see you, such a desperate little thing. fucking soaked and ive barely even touched you. they don’t know you like i do, they don’t know that im in control, always”

“m’sorry— uh— please...” you whimper and he must take a little pity on you then.

“fine, because you used your manners like a good girl” he whispers against your ear before he drops to his knees, hooking his fingers in the elastic of your panties and sliding them down your legs. then he’s spreading them apart and burying his face between them. sucking gently against your sensitive clit for just long enough that your legs begin to shake.

“oh god— fuck— spence!” you moan, your fingers twisting in his hair. but he stops, rising up to his feet again and placing a kiss on your lips, his tongue diving into your mouth so that you can taste your own arousal.

he takes a moment to unbuckle his belt and pull out his cock, it looks painfully hard and flushed in his grip. when his hands come to rest on your backside he leans in close, “im gonna need you to jump for me baby” he growls, and you obey.

and then he’s got you pinned against the front door and he’s buried to the hilt inside of you. you can’t help but press your face into his shoulder to stifle your borderline pornographic moans.

“no” he commands, “i wanna hear you, no holding back”

so you lean your head back against the door, and it bangs against it just a little each time he thrusts into you, forcing a little yelp out of you each time.

“did you like pretending earlier?” he teases, “did the idea of you being in charge make you wet?”

“uh— ah, no!” you moan

“really? i don’t believe you” he almost chuckles, clearly enjoying the absurd time it takes you to form a sentence while he’s so deep inside you.

“i was turned on because— oh god— because i was thinking— uh! thinking about this” you manage to moan.

“about what sweetheart?”

“about what you were gonna do to me—” you have to take a break to breathe, “i wanted you to— uh”

“you wanted me to get angry?” he growls, and you can only nod your head.

“well that’s not something a good girl would do now is it?” for a moment you can see the excitement flash behind his eyes before he manages to hide it again. and then he’s picking up the pace, pounding into you so rough that you can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“aw are you gonna cry?” he teases, “i thought you wanted me angry, is this too much for you?”

you can’t summon anything more than a meek “no, i— i can take it” as the tears start to flow.

“hm, doesn’t look like it. maybe you’re just too tight, can’t take my cock. you really shouldn’t get yourself in trouble if you can’t handle it” he doesn’t let up as his hips thrust in and out, forcing your body against the hard wood of the door over and over and you grown closer.

“im sorry” you whimper, “im a good girl! i can take it, i promise— ah! please” it’s loud and desperate and almost a cry.

“you sure, you want me to fill up this tight little pussy? you want me to take what’s mine?” he asks, thrusts growing sloppier as he nears his own climax.

“fuck! yes! fill me up, im a good girl i swear” you moan as you cum, fingernails digging into his back through the fabric of his shirt.

it only takes another two or three thrusts before he’s spilling deep inside you, pushing it in further with a few lazy thrusts as he comes down.

the following morning you wake to spencer sitting bolt upright in the bed next to you, his phone in hand. on instinct you look over to the nightstand to grab yours but it’s not there. so you sit up too.

“what’s up, have we got a case? i can’t find my phone?” you grumble, rubbing your eyes and turning to spencer, but his eyes are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed red as he looks back at you.

“penelope’s got it” is all he says before he passes his phone to you and your own eyes bulge as you take in the messages.

penelope:

hey loverboy y/n left her phone at the bar, gonna drop it over on my way home x

i went straight home instead

okay im lying

i went over but i heard... noises. the specific kind of noises that people make while they’re...

i wish i didn’t have ears 😳

tell y/n i hope she survived

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astrohae · 3 years

Text

A Dragon’s Greed

pls don’t yell at me about my unfinished series. im trying. take this instead.

dragon king!bakugou X courtesan!reader

gnc reader as per the usual

Focus. You scold yourself. You're here to entertain, not to wordlessly flirt with the princess's fiance. But what can you say? You've always had a type, and barbarian warlords fell right into your favorite category. The fact that he seemed utterly entranced by you, well that wasn't your fault. Every time you turned your head over your shoulder, you caught his eyes over your half veil and he never looked away, not even for a moment.

The princess didn't seem happy about this, sat next to the king, and huffing when her attempts at catching his attention fell flat. Serves her right for always bullying you and being such a spoiled brat.

Though, to be honest you wouldn't wish marriage to Bakugou Katsuki, the King of Dragons, merciless warlord, upon anyone.

Sure he was attractive and rich, and powerful, but you'd heard horror stories of what he had done on the battlefield.

When Bakugou started looking to new lands to conquer, you country's king had offered up his daughter like a sacrificial lamb to the barbarian in order to forge a treaty and protect his people through political marriage. King Bakugou's sexual conquests were nearly as infamous as his military ones, but he had never married or officially named a consort. The princess would be the first.

The king had sent a huge wedding procession of gifts and treasures to the high court of the Badlands, and along with it the most talented entertainers and artisans they had to offer. As the most talented dancing courtesan in the capital you had no choice but to travel with the caravan, so here you were. Performing a sword dance for a bloodthirsty king who kept looking at you as if you were a meal. It was an ego boost for sure but you were also scared.

When your performance came to a close, you bowed and quickly escaped when the princess had successfully stolen Katsuki's attention. Your face was burning under your veil and you fanned yourself in the cool stone hallway to calm down. You were hoping that the king would forget about you after a few more performers. but you hadn't even been out of the main hall two minutes when a servant came to fetch you.

"His highness requests your presence."

Your blood ran cold and your gulped. Oh gods, you had offended him hadn't you? He was going to kill you, probably behead you right there in the middle of the banquet himself-

You were thinking yourself into a panic when you returned to the banquet hall, eyes downcast now. You bowed, kneeling on the ground and hands clasped in front of your bare midriff.

Faintly you heard a scoff, and then the music stopped. You felt yourself go even more still, eyes darting around to see what happened. Unable to tell, you lifted your head slightly to see the king sauntering his way towards you. He had stepped directly over the table, spilling wine all over the princess in the process.

You quickly bowed your head again and tried not to hyperventilate. You didn't want to pass out now.

Two surprisingly clean leather boots entered your vision and on instinct, you looked up. King Bakugou was even more attractive up close, obviously built for battle with strong chords of muscle littered with scars, a sharp jawline and a head of unruly blonde hair.

"Did I say you could look at me?"

"No, your majesty." you squeak and quickly look back down.

Bakugou crouches to be level with your and grips your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his scarlet gaze.

"Did I say you could look away?" he grumbles this time.

"No, your majesty." You feel conflicted, unsure if he’d be more offended if you averted your eyes or just kept looking at him.

His eyes rake over your body again before coming back to yours.

"What's your name, pretty thing?"

"Y/N. I'm a dancer in my king's court." you answer, praying your voice doesn't sound as shaky as you feel.

He doesn't say anything but lets your chin go and rises to his feet. You rub the bottom half of your face, thinking it might just bruise. Bakugou isn't done with you, though and grabs your wrist, hauling you up from the floor. "What-?" you start to ask but a red-eyed glare has you clamping your mouth shut. The barbarian king drags you with him, right up to the high table. He lifts you over the table as if you weigh nothing, and sits you down on his lap. Right next to the princess. The banquet hall continued to steep in silence until Bakugou looked up.

"Fuck are you all looking at? Get on with the feast!" he yelled, and the music and chatter started back up.

"Your majesty, shouldn't worry with commoners-" she starts and Bakugou growls, actually growls so menacingly, you feel your own blood run cold.

"If I wanted your dumbass fucking opinion, I'd ask for it. Shut the fuck up."

Once he was sure the princess was properly cowed he turned his attention back on you. The arm wrapped around your waist holding you against his was warm against your bare skin.

"Pour me some wine." He commanded and your started before shakily lifting the pitcher and pouring some into his goblet. You hadn't it off to him carefully, and he quickly knocked it back before signaling for you to pour another.

"Most king's with a lick of sense wouldn't let a treasure like you out of their sight, so what are you doing in my court?" Bakugou asks.

"His Majesty decreed that the most talented entertainers accompany Her Highness to Your Majesty's court, for you entertainment and pleasure." you answer, handing off the refilled goblet.

Bakugou snorts at your measured and obviously practiced response. You night have heard him mutter 'toothless old bastard' under his breath, but you can't be sure.

"Give me a strawberry.", he gestures at the plate of fruit no six inches from him and you barely manage not to roll your eyes. Warlord or not, royals will always be royals, you think and pick up one of the berries.

The dragon king open his mouth and allows you to place the fruit on his tongue before biting into it. His ruby red eyes don't leave yours for a second, gripping your wrist when your try to pull away. Some juice trickles down your hand, and without breaking eye contact, Bakugou laves his tongue over your skin licking up the trail of red. He eats the rest of the berry, lips catching on your fingers before the lets your hand go in favor of picking up his wine goblet again.

"My entertainment and pleasure huh? I'm entertained, but I don't know about pleased..." he says, smirking into his goblet.

"Is there anything I can do for Your Majesty?" you manage to ask, brain still reeling from the whole thing with the strawberry.

And you walk right into his trap.

"Yeah, I can think of something..." he starts before leaning closer to you.

His hat breath fans against your neck for a moment, letting your get squirmy and nervous before continuing.

"Fucking you until you cry all that pretty makeup off... Then I'd be real fucking pleased." he says with a predatory smile spreading across his face.

You squeak, face heating under your veil as you try to formulate a response. You have no idea if the princess heard but if she did-

"Y-your majesty, I don't think-" you start but Bakugou cuts you off by grinding his hips up into yours.

"Good thing you don't need to think to take my cock." he muses.

The princess, appears to have reached her limit of watching her fiance flirt with someone else right in front of her.

"Your Majesty! I understand that this is a political marriage but I will not sit here and be humiliated and witch you proposition a commoner in front of me!" she exclaims.

You're a little surprised at her outburst considering the environment, but you guessed everyone had limits.

All chatter and music in the hall ceased for the second time that night. Bakugou pulled his face out of your neck to glare at the princess.

"You can fuck off for all I care. Your side wanted the fucking treaty, I don't have a problem with saddling up and burning your shitty country to the ground tonight." Bakugou stated, his anger growing with each word.

"King Bakugou those words could be taken as an act of war. " the diplomatic envoy from your country, stands and approaches the high table.

"What the- Did you idiots forget where you are? You're in the heart of the Badlands, in the court of Katsuki Bakugo, barbarian warlord and King of Dragons. This is my fucking kingdom and I'll do what I very well fucking please. And if I want to fuck this courtesan on the table right in front of your perfect little princess, I will. " He snarls and all you can do is sit there and pray he doesn't actually follow through on that threat.

Not that you'd hate it, seeing the look on the princess's face as you got fucked by her betrothed. Hah, serves her fucking right for always being such a brat.

"But I'm not a cruel king. I'll marry this one, and you can keep your silly little treaty." Bakugou says and both the diplomat and the princess scoff.

You balk, looking up at King Bakugou in surprise. He's going to what now?

"You can't possible expect the princess to be content with being on the same level as a commoner, even as a consort-" the diplomat starts to protest, which is quickly cut off by Bakugou's harsh laugh.

"You're a country of fucking dumbasses? I'm not marrying your brat of a princess, dump her off on some other poor bastard. I'm marrying Y/N instead of her. They'll be my consort. Won't you, pretty thing?" He says, looking at your for your answer.

"Say yes, treasure. I'm rich as fuck, I could give you anything you want. If I can't buy it I can take it. There's nothing I can't do. You wouldn't lift a fucking finger with me, I can promise that." he boasts to you and you know this.

King Bakugou is an unstoppable force. You had a hard life as a commoner, as a dancer. You weren't a servant but always being at the beck and call of nobility, dancing for them until your feet bled, until you fainted from exhaustion.

You deserved to be greedy, just like the man holding you in his lap.

"Yes, I'll marry you." you answer, and Bakugou smiles wickedly.

Good, he likes greedy. It's one of his favorite traits.

He turns his head back to look at the diplomat and princess from your home country. The diplomat looks like he's sweating buckets and the princess is so angry you think she might start breathing fire.

"So, do we have an agreement? Y/N for your protection?" he asks.

"Y-yes your majesty." the diplomat stutters at the same time the princess protests.

"We do not! How dare you disrespect me so openly, you filthy little wench-" she starts, only to be silenced by the sight of Bakugou pulling his sword. He points the tip at the princess, visibly seething with rage.

"Shut your worthless fucking mouth before I shut it for you." he growls.

Fear takes over the princess' face and she stumbles back behind the diplomat.

"Oi, don't piss on my floor or anything, fucking cowards. Show some respect to my new consort. Bend the knee and I'll forget this transgression." Bakugou orders.

While not officially married yet, he's bestowed the title of consort upon you and now you outrank the princess. In fact, you outrank nearly everyone here, sans Katsuki, who is your equal. The diplomat and princess wordlessly fall into a bow, and the nobles from both courts follow suit.

"Alright that's enough groveling for now. This banquet is over, I'm retiring to my bed chambers. If you need me, don't." Bakugou gruffs and stands up, once again easily scooping you up into his arms.

"I'm going to rip this pretty little costume to shreds, and pump and heir into you tonight, goddamn it." Bakugou murmurs in your ear as he carries you though out his(your) palace.

"I like this one..." your protest weakly as he kicks a door open, throwing you onto his bed.

He grasps the waistline of your costume, easily ripping the silk to shreds with his bare hands.

"I'm buy you forty just like it, now spread your legs, Consort." he orders, licking his lips.

"I didn't get to finish my meal earlier." He hums and you squeak in anticipation.

"Cute. Let's see how many cute noises you can make, huh?"

@hanji-is-life i hope you enjoy!

#bakugou fanfiction #bakugou kastuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x gnc reader #dragon king bakugou #bakugou imagine

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jointimeandspace · 3 years

Text

Hey y'all! So this is my second headcannon. I may make this a part 2 if the moment strikes or I have some ideas. But I hope you enjoy. *Edit: I just wanna say I was definitely inspired by @KathyIsWeird on AO3. Check out their story "Teach Me Tonight." It made me feel so happy, especially as a chubby person myself.

First Night (pt.1?)

It was a cloudy night as you sat on the large bed while looking out the window. The silence of the room was quiet, but not uncomfortable. It was also warm and peaceful; an orange tint bounced of the walls that were created from the fire. You were nervous. It was you first time making love with Alcina. As you stared around the room your poor stomach was in knots. What if you vomited, or fainted? You'd be so embarrassed. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn't. You pulled the sheets around you trying to steady your nerves. The deep breath you took was so shaky and loud that you could've sworn everyone in the castle heard it, but you wanted this moment to happen, and waited for it for a long time. When you first started working at the castle, all you wanted to do was work long enough just to save up enough money to leave the village. Falling in love was the last thing you needed. At first you thought love was just a set back to your goals, but you soon found out the lady of the house felt the same way. There'd be times in the beginning when you'd catch her looking at you when she thought she was being subtle about it, wondering what was reeling through your mind when you saw her. It made you uncomfortable at first. As time went on you eventually started noticing her as well. Her pale skin with a tint of gray underneath, her beautiful full, red lips, her gray-green eyes, everything about her was ethereal. To know she wanted you, a chubby, insecure girl with glasses was almost shocking. You've always remained in the background, minding your business and doing your chores, trying not get in trouble so you won't get sent to the dungeons. You were flattered. "She clearly, must've seen something in me that I didn't and still don't see," you said to yourself.

"And so I do."

You jumped as your breath hitched in your throat. For someone as enormous as her she was awfully quiet. You stared at her wondering if she was real or not. Alcina emerged from the bathroom wearing a dark purple robe with a very prominent low cut center. She smelled of fresh gardenias and her raven hair was out of her famous bun and down to her shoulders. She looked like an angel.

"You look...divine, Alcina!"

She smiled as she walked over to her vanity to pour herself a glass of wine. "Thank you, pet! Not half as divine as you. You look so pretty in that pink negligee. You know, you should really wear more clothes that inhance those soft, sweet curves of yours," she said as she took a swig of wine. She turned her eyes at you. There was a hint of love in those eyes along with something else. They darkened as she looked you up and down. You sometimes forget she is predatory by nature. What she wants, she gets. Tonight, she gets you.

"Um, I'll try. I look in a few catalogs tomorrow. Whatever looks right I'll show you."

"Wonderful! What's on your mind, dear? I can see the gears rotating in that cute head of yours." Alcina moved over to the bed and sat on the edge. "Are you nervous, draga?"

"More than you ever know. I've never been with someone before. Sure I've had...moments with myself, but even those were awkward," you sighed. You scooted down on the bed to lay back on your pillow, looking up at the ceiling. " I felt good for a second, but I never finished. I've been close though, even though I wasn't sure what I was doing was right." You turned over on your side embarrassed.

Alcina chuckled as she stroked your leg. "Draga, there isn't only a singular way to pleasure yourself. If what you did felt good, then continue doing it. As for finishing, sometimes an orgasm shouldn't always be the end goal. If it happens, then that's all good and well. However, the more you focus on it, the harder it'll be to get there. The best feeling is to let the activity flow naturally. Do you understand?"

You turned to look at her. That was easy for her to say as she was more experienced. Over decades of practice and maybe even more to come. You felt, even though you wouldn't admit it, that your time was limited.

"I know, Alci, but I...." Anxiety was creeping in as you've never had such an in depth conversation about this with anyone, but you mustered up the courage to continue. "I just want to know what it would feel like. For so long I was convinced that I wouldn't meet anyone, and so I thought that the only way to make me feel better about...potentially being single for the rest of my life was to try to achieve orgasm, and when I didn't get there I'd be frustrated. Like I said, I felt good, but incomplete. Now that I've met you, I really wished I could've had one. At least I would've entered in this relationship having an inkling on what to do." Tears spilled from your eyes. Alcina grab her handkerchief from her robe pocket and wiped your face as she positioned herself along the headboard. She pulled you into her lap cuddling you until you calmed down. She hated to see you cry. To her sex was a simple, easy thing to pick up. But she had to remember that this was your first time. You told her at the beginning of your relationship that you wanted their first time to be meaningful. Alcina hummed and thought back to her wedding night. It was awful! The lack of communication made her feel jaded, the belittling her husband did to her made her feel dirty, and nothing was consensual at all. She kissed the top of your head.

"This is stupid, Alci! You probably think I'm a mess right now. I've often been told that nobody wants to be with virgins. We're too this, too that, too emotional, too clingy. I could go on forever...."

"Don't, love. I know how you're feeling. My first time, or any other time after that during my marriage, wasn't pleasant. I was told the same things by my husband and he took matters into his own hands. But you? I'll never do to you what he did to me; made me feel, small, useless, unimportant, unworthy, and an idiot for not knowing what I was doing. A nuisance, I was to him. And he made that known. If I didn't know what I was doing, he was going to find someone else who did. It hurt! A partner is supposed to teach and help you. Your feelings are heard and so valid. Those people that told you all that nonsense remind me of that horrid man. Of course they're having sex, but do you know if they are truly happy?" You looked up at her. You didn't know. People always talked about how much they were getting, but you didn't know their struggles aside from them bedding each other. What if their relationship was one sided? What if it was fulfillment for one and meaningless for the other? Comparison is the thief of joy you always heard.

"Sex doesn't always equate to happiness, love. It's better to be alone than to jump from one relationship to another wondering if what you feel is happiness or emptiness. Sometimes sex is used as a coping method, a random stop along this road called life with no real feeling involved. For some, it may not bother them at all and they continue where they left off. For others, it can make them feel drained and tired, and then that emptiness and depression comes creeping back again when they find out it wasn't truly love. I'm not judging you for waiting, so please don't feel bad. I wouldn't have judged you if you didn't. You would've had experience, but even then boundaries would still need to be set just like now."

Your grip around Alcina tightened. You felt as though a weight was lifted off your shoulders. You have no idea how she has so much patience, but your glad she does. "Thank you, Alci! I guess that makes me feel a little better. I was wondering if, maybe not tonight, but soon, could we try again?

"Of course darling! Whatever you want." She smiled and gave you soft kiss. "Sweetie? When the time comes, you'll find I can be a most wonderful teacher. I want to make you feel so good." Her hand trailed down to your bottom and a rush of electricity sent shivers through your body. Alcina chuckled as she gave you a dazzling smile. "We'll have to practice everyday, draga."

"Well, then professor, I can't wait to start our lessons. I want to know EVERYTHING!" You giggled and gave her another playful kiss. You were so lucky to have someone so caring and understanding as Alcina. You know your first time will be magical when it eventually comes.

#resident evil 8 #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #village #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #alcina x maiden #lady alcina dimitrescu #headcannon

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chocominnie · 3 years

Text

Can you trust me? | knj

⇢ pairing: namjoon x reader (idol! Namjoon)

⇢ genre: Angst because Namjoon may or may not be an asshole about important things but also fluff because of sweet-talking

⇢ word count: 3k

⇢ warnings: Arguements but honestly thats it because the rest if fluff lmao.

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Summary: Namjoon keeps making excuses of not meeting up with you and given that you guys have been having fall outs recently, things are about to be put on the line. Will you guys break up? Or will you stay together? Can you trust him..

You have reached the voice mailbox of-

You shake your head lightly as tears feel the brim of your eyes. This is the third time today. You knew that in this relationship with Namjoon would mean that he wouldn’t always have time for you. But for him to not even give you a quick text or just even answer his phone is absurd. You’ve been talking about this meet-up for the past two weeks. Although he is mostly busy majority of the times, a dinner for one night surely wouldn’t affect his schedule right?

Especially with all the things going on between you and him. This date tonight would of approached everything that has been happening. The arguments you guys have are just nerve wracking. Especially when he argued with you for being clumsy because you had spilled fruit juice in his studio.. on the wooden floor. You just didn’t get how it would be a big deal as it was not carpet so an easy clean up. At the end of the day, you guys knew how to get on each others bad side and that’s not good at all.

So here you are now, dressed in an elegant black dress with that Swarovski crystal bracelet he gave you for your 1 year annivesary. Atleast, that’s when he actually gave a fuck about the relationship. Actually, you can’t even count the amount of excuses he’s made within the past months to not spend time with you. The last time it was because he was washing clothes and didn’t have any to wear right now. In which you had called bullshit because he has more clothes than anybody could ever.

Needless to say, you had ignored his calls and texts for two days to give him a piece of your mind. Namjoon wasn’t the type to over-react on such things so it wasn’t a win situation for you. Instead he sent you some of your favorite chocolates and flowers as an apology as you weren’t speaking to him. Yes, you gave in because who wouldn’t over the dozen of roses and Switzerland made chocolate?

This time is something different though.

The waitress returns with a bottle of champagne with a bucket of ice in her hands, and while she sets it down, you quickly wipe the stray tears away and force a smile. You didn’t even notice they were there before.

‘‘ It seems as though my significant other..” You take the napkin from your lap and throw it on the table. “ Will not be joining me today. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

The poor waitress had been waiting for you to order your food for an hour now. You’d kept insisting to wait because Namjoon would’ve been there any minute. Turns out you were very wrong.

She smiles softly, popping the cork off the bottle and pouring a glass for you. ‘‘Shall I give you the bill then?’‘

As if you would be the one paying for this, when he had broke his promise for you. Broken promises are a thing you hated and he knew that. Putting this on his tab wouldn’t bother him with your petty little antics. The boy is a millionaire, something like this doesn’t even make a dent. Somehow though, you wanted to pay him back for not even showing up.

‘‘Put it on Kim Namjoon’s tab. He’ll be the one paying for this.’‘ You mumble to the young girl. The girl nods her head and pulls out the tab and hands it to you.

You sign your signature on it, and place a good thousand dollar tip on it. The feeling of satisfaction soothes you. He’d surely be paying for his time away, and wasting this waitress’ time. You hand it back to her, waiting for her reaction to the amount. Sure enough she doubled back to you when she realized how much was on the tab.

“ Ma’m? You added two extra zer-”

“ My date wasted your time love. He’s deeply sorry for it. Do something good with the money yeah?” As if the sinister smirk to yourself wasn’t enough, you quickly get up from the table and thank her again before heading to the exit.

The taste of the sweet yet tangy wine soothes the emotions flowing through you right now. Kim Namjoon. A guy who cancels dates a lot. A guy who does not keep his promise.

The only place you knew he would be at rather than his apartment would be at the BigHit building in his studio. He’s always there rather it be snowing or sunny outside he’s just.. there. It always astonishes you how one can just lock himself in a room for hours. What is it about him and doing that? Last time you paid a visit here Namjoon was eating the dinner he ordered in the room, instead of coming over to your house as he promised.

You punch in the code to the brand new building and a charming sound lets you know you may enter. You smile at the two security guards who give a slight smile then back to the blank expression towards the outside world.

Your heels click against the cold tile making your way over to the receptionist. The air smells fresh, as if someone had just cleaned the room again. The receptionist politely stands up quickly and greets you with a smile and a slight bow of her head.

“ Miss Yn, how may I assist you today?” Her eyes are warm and bright, along with her small smile at you. You wish you could feel happy in this current situation right now.

“Is Namjoon in his studio again.”

‘‘ Yes Ma’m should I tell him that you are coming in?’‘ She says, smoothing her skirt out before sitting back down about to grab the phone.

You immediately shake your head no. Since he doesn’t like showing up and canceling dates he doesn’t need to know anything at all.

You force a fake smile upon yourself to please her. ‘‘No. It’s a surprise since we have not had the time to see each other in a while.’‘ Oh yes, a surpise it will be.

She nods her head, ‘‘ Yes ma’m. Have a nice night with him.’‘

You say your goodbyes to each other and you go your separate way down the hallway of studios. Each door standing out in it’s own way makes you smile.

Mang Gae Deok Room

Hope world

Golden Closet

Genius Lab

And finally, Mon Studio.

You fluff your hair a little bit before turning the corner to the secluded area. But something takes you by surprise, it makes you tense up. Eyes watering and a little whimper chokes out of you. So this is what he’s been doing. This is what he’s been up to for the past weeks.

Its as if almost you feel your heart stop beating for a mere second. As if the blood in your veins went cold. As if what you’re seeing right now is only your imagination but in reality it is not.

There he is, sitting in his chair while a female takes it upon herself to casually take a seat on his desk, smiling and laughing and all. The pain in your heart makes it hard for you to keep looking. Sure, you guys argue, but ditching plans to do whatever it is with a girl is a low blow. That’s all you can take. That’s all you can manage to see right before he turns to look at you in complete and utter shock. There is no stopping the flow of the tears coming down your warm cheeks.

You look down at the boxed up food you had bought him and the bottle of wine that you had taken then back up at the door. Raising the box in the air, you throw it against the window making the food splatter everywhere leaving a mess. The two inside jump at your actions, but you ignore them and just walk away with utter disbelief.

Foot steps and yelling are heard behind you but you don’t stop. You continue walking, but then speeding up your pace passing the receptionist, who is confused yet concerned, and pass the two security guards with no expression.

Running to the open, vacant elevator you quickly wipe your tears and repeatedly abuse the close button to keep Namjoon from joining you. The image of him you get just before the door closes, is him running attempting to get the elevator door to open. You make sure to make eye contact with him just so he can see your pain.

You sniffle heavily while hanging your head low walking to your apartment. You could understand if it was one of the boys in the recording room. It doesn’t look like a great situation, but the girl did seem comfortable enough with him to sit on his desk. So that only leads you to think about how long has she been around him. The thoughts barricade your mind and before you know it you are face to face with someone standing directly on your doormat.

You dont bother to look up already knowing that body structure. Instead you try and shove past him to unlock your home, but there’s no use because next thing you know you’re being held by your upper arms standing in-front of him.

‘‘ Namjoon I don’t want to fucking talk about it.’’ You grumble, shoveling yourself out his arms quick enough to unlock your apartment enough for you to slide through and slam shut.

Knocks are loud on your door to cause some neighbors to wonder. Let them wonder they can scold him themselves for causing so much of a scene.

‘‘ Yn im coming in.’‘ He yells through the door.

You roll your eyes and stand a few feet from the door with your arms crossed on your chest. The door gives a charm letting him know the pin-code was correct. He shuffles in lightly through the door and closes it gently behind him. You stand there waiting for his explanation as you slowly walk towards him.

‘‘ Yn-’‘

Smack!

It felt good for your hand to connect with his cheek. How dare he disrespect the relationship of you two like this?

Namjoon holds his now sore, red cheek and gives you a serious look, ‘’ That was unnecessary. Let me fuckin expl-’’

Smack!.

Your nose flared in and out as you breathe heavily with your eyebrows furrowed in anger. ‘’ Another woman Kim Namjoon? You didn’t show up to our date because you were doing god knows what with another woman?”

Namjoon bites his lip hard as his eyes narrow, ‘’ Stop fucking smacking me. Let me got damn explain you brat!’’ He yells, pushing you to against the wall.

Your strength towards him was no match. You try to run away but he pins you back onto the wall. You were useless at this point.

‘‘ What’s your problem! Calm down!’‘ He semi-yells, grabbing your face to make you look at him. You look at him, you look him dead straight in the eyes with anger all over you.

‘‘ Shut up. Shut the fuck up Namjoon. I planned the date to talk about everything happening but you don’t show up? Instead you were chatting it up with another girl.” You pause, ripping your arms away from him. “ That’s not a good look for you.”

Namjoon steps back, scoffing in disbelief. That only pisses you off even more, but you decide that it had been enough smacking him for the night. ‘‘ I wasn’t cheating if you think that. You and I both know I wouldn’t do that, right?”

You glare at him, ‘’I don’t know you fucking tell me.’’

That one single sentence sets him off. Trust is something you two really try to have with each-other but lately that’s been all over the place. Questioning his loyalty to him is like a stab in the back with a sharp, piercing knife. Namjoon puts his hands on his head in shock while walking towards the kitchen. You follow him because the last thing he was going to do to you, is ignore the entire fucking conversation.

The silence is rough. You sit yourself down on one of the island chairs as you watch him pour himself a glass of wine. The one you had bought from the restaurant. The way his jaw locks with a serious pout on his face lets you know, he has some choice words to say. That sharp tongue is just holding it in.

But did you over-react? Perhaps you did? Either way, it wasn’t a great scene to walk in on. Your man and another woman alone in his studio. You can’t help but to have reacted that way. Wouldn’t any other person would? It’s not that she was there, it was the way she was very comfortable around Namjoon to the point of doing what she did. She was also a person you had never met.

Namjoon puts the tip of the glass to his lips, making direct eye contact with you as he takes a long sip of wine. You roll your eyes at his dramatic action.

He clears his throat, ‘‘ Im still young. I have female friends and I have male friends. I would love to have time with them before you start barking up my ass.”

Barking up his ass?

‘‘ So you’re saying that all you were doing was having fun with her cause you’re still got damn young huh? Is that what i’m hearing Namjoon?’‘ That rage begins in your stomach again. Simmering in you like boiling water.

You continue, “ It’s like you just don’t care you left me at the fucking restaurant looking stupid right?”

‘‘ No I wasn’t having fun with her. You ran out without letting me explain, instead you were all dramatic throwing fucking food at my windows.” The sound of the glass clinking against the counter-top is sharp. You wince at the sound of it.

Maybe you did over-react. But in your defense, you still had no idea who the girl was.

“Yn, how childish can you be right now? Did you ever think that me, one of the members of a worldwide known boy-group will be busy? Hmm? Yes, I should of told you that I couldn’t make it beforehand. I honestly thought I would be able to join you, but I overlooked my schedule wrong. That is my fault. The girl came because she was scheduled to work on our collaboration tonight with me.”

Oh gosh. The guilt takes over your body all at once. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. You really outdid yourself now. During all your rage and tantrum about this situation, you had failed to realize that you had indeed signed up to live this type of relationship with him. Of course he’d be busy, he’s an idol. Not once did you take his feelings and thoughts into consideration this entire time.

“ I don’t know Yn, I don’t know if we can continue our relationship together. You and I seem to be clashing a lot now-a-days. You questioning my loyalty really hurt me. We should think about taking a break, or ending things.”

Tears well in your eyes but you just let them fall. Those words you never wanted to hear ever. Sure couples clash with each-other, but isn’t that what makes them stronger? It’d be One year and a half down the drain if things were to go south now. Namjoon is a sweet guy, but your recent over-reacting scenes is becoming too much for him.

There goes that silence again. You two just sit there, not saying a word. The tension is thick as wood. This isn’t right. This won’t be right. Th emotions in you are running high. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Things were only said in the heat of the moment. You were tired of him always canceling and didn’t even bother to let him explain. This could of been handled better.

“ I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been wanting to spend time with you and you keep canceling on me Namjoon..”

He sighs, placing his now finished glass of wine in the sink. He runs his hands in his hair shaking his head again. “ I’m sorry for that. I should do a better job at telling you my schedule.”

It still hurts though. The way he said those words without hesitation. “ Do you.. still want us to take a break after this?”

“ I think that now that we understand each other a little more, we can work on being better together and not seperate.”

You’re happy to hear those words. Namjoon comes from behind the counter straight towards you where you were now standing beside the chair you were once sitting in. His arms snake around you and pull you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You sink into him, nuzzling your head into him with a small sigh.

“ I don’t like when we fight like this. You know I love you right? So much. So, so, much.” He whispers down to you. You nod your head in agreement. It’s something about being in his arms that soothe you.

You feel so complete with just the presence of him. He makes you happy, as you do him. Namjoon is understanding, caring, kind, and so much more to you. He was there for you on your worst days, and was there on your best days.

He plants a small kiss on your forehead, “ Let’s become better together yn. I want big plans for us in the future, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“ I want that for us too. I love you so much Namjoon. Even when things are bad for us, I care a lot about you.”

The butterflies in your stomach settle. Being in Namjoons arms is what home feels like to you. You’re secure and safe.

‘‘ Can you trust me next time? I promise from now on I will tell you in advance if I cannot participate instead of just leaving you wondering.‘

You nod your head, not caring about what he said but only caring about his embrace right now. The only thing you care about att he moment is him and his understanding.

‘‘ Can you trust me?’‘

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Text

and then I don’t feel so bad

thanks again to @thecomfortofoldstorries for coming through when I whined at her about needing ideas

also shout-out to my older sister for being the coolest and getting this song stuck in my head today (happy birthday, sis. wish we’d been raised together)

---

Geralt holds the package tightly with both hands and glares down at it with icy anxiety building at the center of his chest. The cloak he’d special ordered two weeks ago is wrapped in brown paper, tied closed with a length of dark blue woolen string. The Witcher, who has faced countless monsters and angry villagers and vengeful nobles alike, takes a deep breath in through his nose and shudders at the thought of his next self-chosen contract: giving Jaskier a Solstice present. He hopes the cloak is good enough. He hopes that he chose a fashionable color, one that Jaskier will enjoy wearing no matter where he chooses to go this winter. Geralt hopes that the heavy wool he’d painstakingly decided on is the right kind of material for Jaskier’s tastes. He hopes… he hopes that everything he’s about to say and do goes well and that he doesn’t fuck this all up.

“Jaskier,” he calls, keeping his tone light as he knocks on the door of their shared room. “Are you decent?”

“Never!” Jaskier laughs from within. Geralt hears a series of quick, light-soled footsteps crossing the floor before the door is flung open to reveal Jaskier in all his evening glory. The bard is, as usual, painfully correct. He’s not very decent at all; his hair is a mess of brown waves that tumble down to cover his smooth, pale forehead. The apples of his cheeks are flushed fuchsia with a combination of wine and the high of a good show. His frilly white shirt is unlaced at the throat and loosened all the way down to reveal the sharp angles of his collarbones. Geralt gulps air like a man near to drowning and pushes his way inside. Has it gotten hotter, all of a sudden? Jaskier’s eyebrows furrow with worry and he closes the door behind his Witcher. “What’s got you even quieter than usual? Are you sick? Injured? Cursed?”

“Witchers can’t get sick,” Geralt answers, almost automatically. Jaskier rolls his eyes.

“Your version of sick, then?”

Geralt doesn’t know what his version of sick means so he ignores the comment entirely. Instead he shoves the package in his hands towards the bard and huffs. “I got something for you. I thought you might like to wear it to keep you warm, especially since I wanted… I was wondering if you’d like…”

Geralt growls and spins on his heel, running one shaking hand through his hair as if that might calm him down. It doesn’t.

“Fuck! Why can’t I be like you? Why can’t I just… say all the things I’m thinking? I’m no good with words, Jaskier.”

“I actually don’t say most of the things I think,” Jaskier shrugs. He bites the inside of his lip to keep from talking any more and ruining the moment. This is clearly something the Witcher needs to do on his own, whatever it is. He smiles softly and holds the paper-wrapped lump against his chest. “But I’m happy to wait for as long as you need, dear heart. Figuring out the right thing to say is hard.”

Geralt’s heart is pounding in his chest. Each beat rings out like one of Roach’s shoes against unforgiving cobblestone. He can practically see the sparks flying from it, igniting something in his chest that flares and wavers like a candle flame in the high breeze. He wants to protect the wavering warmth with every ounce of strength he has.

“I… I got you this,” he gestures towards the gift Jaskier has yet to open, “Because it’s cold at Kaer Morhen. The pass is treacherous, difficult for a human who isn’t prepared, so I wanted you to- I mean if you wanted to come with me, I would-”

His fumbling proposal is interrupted by a dull thwump as the package Jaskier was just holding suddenly hits the wooden floorboards. When Geralt looks up, terrified of the incoming rejection, he’s met with two watery blue eyes. Every one of his worst fears is being actualized in front of him and there’s nothing he can do to stop it now.

“Fuck. Shit, I- I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t know if you would eve-”

Geralt is interrupted again, this time by Jaskier throwing his arms around the Witcher’s shoulders and starting to sob. Geralt panics and instinctively reaches to pull Jaskier closer against his chest. He tucks the bard’s face against the side of his neck and cups the back of his neck with one broad palm; his fingers scratch up the base of Jaskier’s scalp and into his soft, tousled locks. With his other arm Geralt holds the bard tightly around the waist, rubbing small circles into the meat of his hip as he waits for Jaskier’s breathing to return to normal.

“Do you not want to come with me to the keep?” he asks, voice low and gravelly but somehow smaller and more frightened than Jaskier has ever heard it sound before. His heart cracks wide open and his love for his grumpy White Wolf comes spilling out like water from a burst dam.

“Of course I want to come to Kaer Morhen,” Jaskier chuckles wetly. Sadly. “I just never thought… I thought you didn’t want me there.”

Geralt considers the words for a moment. He really hasn’t been the most welcoming friend, all things considered. He can understand why Jaskier feels a bit lost and a bit confused. Overwhelmed, his brain supplies. Jaskier is overwhelmed.

He slowly releases Jaskier and steps away.

“Here,” he grins, kneeling and offering the package back up to the bard, who accepts it slowly. Now those bright blue eyes are shining with a different emotion, and Geralt envies the mages who can read other peoples’ minds. “Open it.”

Jaskier slowly unties the blue string and pulls two or three layers of plain brown paper aside to reveal a cardinal-red woolen cloak. A cloak that Geralt has bought for him. The hood and the hem are just the right size and shape for the season. The shade of red Geralt has chosen really brings out the pink undertones of Jaskier’s skin and the darker flecks of blue in his eyes. Jaskier knows that this cloak’s design is haute couture and probably cost the Witcher a great deal of coin. “Oh… Oh, my sweet, darling Geralt.”

Hearing his name said like that, with such affection and gentle reverence, throws the Witcher into another frenzy of emotion. He can barely stand it. His fists clench at his sides. It takes Herculean effort not to sweep the bard off his feet and spin him through the air, peppering him with excited, happy kisses. Jaskier is coming to Kaer Morhen with him! Jaskier is coming home with him!

“Geralt?”

“Jaskier,” the Witcher whispers, taking one slow step and closing the distance between them. The bard does not flinch. He does not move away. He does not step back. “Jaskier, if you don’t mind, I’d like to kiss you very badly.”

“Of course,” the bard breathes, his hand floating up to rest against the warm, stubbled skin of Geralt’s cheek, “I’ve been waiting so long…”

When their lips finally meet, time stops. There is only the warmth of their skin where it’s touching and the soft, gentle desperation of two people trying to prove, for once and for all, that they love each other. When they pause for air Jaskier pulls away a fraction. “Let’s go sit by the fire and chat, shall we?”

“Hmm.”

Geralt settles himself before the fire and pulls Jaskier down onto his lap, arranging him until they’re both comfortable. “Will your family mind my coming with you?”

“They’re expecting you. Actually, they demanded your presence this year. Lambert actually threatened me with bodily harm.”

“Did they, now?”

“Aye. Eskel said he’d find you and bring you back himself if I was too cowardly to buck up like a real Witcher and tell you that I-”

He cut himself off with a blush.

“That you what?”

“That I love you.”

“Well that’s good news,” Jaskier giggles, “And quite the relief considering I’ve been head over heels in love with you for years, now. A decade at least!”

“Y-you…?”

“Me, indeed.”

“I’m glad we’ll all get to hear your wonderful stories this winter,” Geralt nuzzles down against the side of his neck and sends Jaskier into another fit of giggles. “And songs.”

“Do you like it when I sing?”

“I like it best when you make up little songs as we travel,” Geralt admits. “They’re sweet... and I feel like- like they’re just for me.”

Jaskier lights up brighter than a well-cast Igni and settles himself into the Witcher’s tender embrace entirely. He begins to hum to himself and then slowly, in a way that always leaves Geralt impressed and entranced, words begin to form into verse:

“Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, Big grumpy Witchers that have me quite smitten, Brown paper packages tied up with strings; These are a few of my favorite things.”

Geralt presses a kiss to Jaskier’s temple and hides his blush in the bard’s warm neck.

“Hair soft as silk that went white in the Trials, Arms that can hold me and heft me for miles, Eyes of warm amber I search for in Spring, These are a few of my favorite things.”

The Witcher swears he can’t fall any more in love. It has to be impossible; but then Jaskier’s voice gets even softer and the words are sung so close to his ear that it makes him shiver.

“When the wolf bites, When the bee stings, When I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things, And then I don't feel so bad!”

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frostedfaves · 4 years

Text

Repercussions (2)

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha takes you on a date and decides how the night will end.

Warnings: dark themes, stalking, digital hacking, drugging, sexual content (all consensual!!!)

A/N: this is the closest thing I’ve ever written to smut so I hope it didn’t turn out to be complete trash! I’d like to try going further in the future but I’m just doing what fits for the story for now! anyway, can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Previous part

Natasha could barely sleep that night, the images of you swimming through her mind constantly. She’d stared at the pictures in her phone long enough to memorize every inch of you left uncovered. How she wished to be the one to undress you at night, maybe with your wrists tied together above your head or your ankles forced to separate with a bar between them. The possibilities were endless.

She took a cold shower the next morning after waking up in a sweat because of you, and she knew she had to see you again. Not through a window but in person, face to face. She already missed holding a finger to the pulse point in your wrist, feeling the pace quicken as you lost yourself in her intense gaze. It was thrilling.

Your shift today ended at 6, which is why Natasha strolled into the bookstore just after 5:45. She began feigning interest in a shelf of biographies until she heard your kind voice again, and god, could she come undone at the sound of it.

“You’re back.”

She closed the book she was flipping through with a smile, turning to you, and what a sight you were. Your light t-shirt clung to your torso and was tucked inside of dark pants that loosely covered your waist and legs, hugging your ankles. Your hands were tucked in the pockets, and she wondered what was the easiest way to pull them into hers instead.

“I am.” The book closed with a sharp snap as she stepped closer to you. “I was hoping you were here.”

“Why didn’t you look for me then?”

“Got a little nervous.” She shrugs and you find it endearing.

“You hide it well.” Your hands leave your pocket as she gives you the book. “So what can I do for you, Natasha?”

You noticed her eyes widened slightly when her name left your lips, and you wondered whether or not that was a good reaction. The smirk that followed answered your silent question.

“Call me crazy, but I wondered if you’d have dinner with me. Nothing fancy, just want to get to know a kind soul such as yourself a little deeper.”

“Well, I’m very honored that an Avenger is interested in a boring civilian like me.” You offer her a teasing grin and she laughs in response.

“You know who I am, then.”

“A face like yours isn’t easy to forget.” You step around her to place the book back on the shelf, trying not to focus on the warmth that radiates from her body in such close contact. “I just need to clock out and grab my purse from my locker, and then I’ll be ready for dinner.”

“I’ll be outside,” she promised, watching you until the doors to the back hid you from sight before heading out of the bookstore. She listened carefully for your footsteps as she set up the program on the new cellphone, giving you a smile when you appeared that told nothing of what she was doing.

“Ready when you are.”

Natasha held out her arm to you, unable to contain her grin when you looped yours through the space she left and rested your other hand on her incredibly toned bicep. The warmth of your forearm against hers and your palm through her sleeve made her long for more, but she decided not to rush, knowing she had all the time in the world. As far as she was concerned, you weren’t going anywhere.

You arrived at a quiet restaurant in the middle of casual and fancy, seated at a table in the corner per Natasha’s request. The reasoning given to you was her desire to have eyes on the entire room because “you can never be too careful”, but the phone in her lap told a different story. She was an expert at holding your gaze or keeping your attention while the device downloaded your information, tucking it away in her pocket when finished.

It was halfway through dinner when Natasha found herself wanting to touch you more than the high school hand holding you’d done so far. She noticed a bit of pasta sauce that dribbled onto the corner of your mouth and before you could react, it was swiped away onto the pad of her thumb that was now positioned in front of your lips.

“Open,” she commanded, gleefully watching you obey her with wide and innocent eyes. A shiver went down her spine when your warm tongue cleaned her thumb, smirking as she slowly pulled away from your lips with a pop. And then she was back to her own meal as if nothing happened, while you were left squirming in your seat.

“Would you like to come to my place for wine?” you finally get out when your heart stops making its home in your throat.

“I would love that.”

The two of you walked hand in hand to your apartment in a comfortable silence, a bubbly feeling spreading through you every time that damn thumb swiped over your knuckles. You turned on the living room light as you entered, locking the door behind her and offering apologies for a mess that didn’t exist.

“Stop worrying, printsessa. You have a lovely home.”

The bubbles returned at the sound of the Russian nickname. “I’m glad you like it. Have a seat on the couch while I run to the bathroom, and then I’ll pour the wine for us.”

Natasha waited a few seconds after you closed the door before sprinting down the hall to where she could only assume your bedroom was. A bug was placed in your bedside lamp, a camera hidden in the plant on your dresser and your window was unlocked. By the time you stepped out with an empty bladder and clean hands, her back was against the armrest of the couch.

“Do you prefer white or red?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

She followed you to the kitchen, resting her elbows on the island that separated tile from carpet as she watched you place two glasses in front of her. You poured the deep red liquid with a smile, and as you returned the bottle to the fridge, she unscrewed the tiny vial from her necklace and emptied it into one glass. She claimed the other one as you faced her, clinking it to yours and moving to the couch.

“You know, I’ve answered your questions all night but I would love to know more about you,” you told her after a long sip, and she smiled at you over the transparent rim of her drink.

“Anything in particular?”

“Just...something that the media hasn’t broadcasted anywhere. Like, how do you manage not to fall into a deep depression with everything that you deal with as an Avenger?”

“It’s the little things.” She leans forward a bit, her fingertips resting on your knee. “The team and I do pretty normal things when we’re not on missions. Movie nights, eating meals together, being honest with each other when we feel down and doing whatever we can to improve our moods. It helps to have a good support system with these things, or in my case, a best friend that’s a literal ball of sunshine. I’m very lucky to have people like them in my life.”

“I think they’re very lucky to have you, too.”

A few gulps of the bitter liquid gave you the courage you needed to close the gap and press your lips to hers, and part of you wasn’t surprised at how easily she was able to slip her tongue in your mouth seconds later. A low groan spilled from her lips past yours, and it vibrated within the deepest parts of you as you wrapped an arm around her neck, the other joining after your nearly empty glass was taken away.

Her hands held onto your waist, squeezing harder as the kiss deepened, and she used the tight grip to guide your back toward the couch cushions. Your fingers slid into her hair when her mouth separated from yours to trail wet kisses down your jaw to the base of your neck, her warm breath leaving goosebumps on your sensitive skin. You slid a hand down to your jeans, about to unbutton them when she let go of one of your hips to stop you.

“Patience, printsessa,” she mumbled into the space between your neck and shoulder. “We have time.”

She pulled herself into a sitting position and you followed, embarrassed when a yawn unexpectedly pushed out of you.

“I’m sorry.” You chuckled shyly. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s okay. You got up pretty early, yeah?” You nodded. “I figured. Let me just take your number and then I’ll get out of your hair. I can always come back tomorrow.”

She winked as she handed you the phone that wasn’t an exact copy of yours, and you made sure to include your address in the contact you created. When you handed it back, Natasha erased your name and replaced it with your newly given nickname.

She left your apartment after a much more innocent kiss at the door, immediately taking the alley back to your fire escape when she was sure there were no witnesses. A smile shaped her lips as she watched you stumble tiredly through your nightly routine, eventually collapsing on the bed and falling unconscious before you could pull the blanket over your exposed legs.

Once you were asleep for a few minutes, she popped the screen off and set it to the side as she raised the window and climbed in.

Tags: @littlegasps @imnotasuperhero @nat-km-mh @emilyprentisswife @cherrieloco @fayhar @muted-stoneheart @witchxaf @sakurat123 @bebe404 @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se

#dark!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow #black widow x reader #avengers x reader #avengers #avengers fanfic #avengers imagine #avengers x you #avengers x fem!reader #the avengers #marvel x reader #marvel #marvel imagine

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miss-smutty · 3 years

Text

The Destructive Secret - Chapter 1

A/N- So first of all, extremely mature themes, strictly 18+ only This is my baby, I love it and I'm so excited for it but oh my lord! My poor heart writing this. This is going to be a super angsty series. Since I got the idea I've been desperate to get it written, even though it's going to break my heart. The dynamics of it have been driving me insane because I want the first chapter to have a air of mystery to it but then how do I tag it without giving it away? 😩 So I've purposefully left out names in this chapter so you don't know who's who and all will be revealed in good time. Can you work out what's happening? I'd love to hear your thoughts ❤️

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Summary- You've got a secret to hide and it's going to cause complete and utter destruction.

Word count- 2,197

Warnings- Mature themes, swearing, smut, angst, deceit, lies

18+ only!

Taglist-: @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke

Posted: 25th Feb 2021

"Babe, don't hate me... I have to go out of town for another conference this weekend" The deep confliction you feel everytime you do this to your boyfriend, never gets any easier.

"I don't hate you, we'll make up for it next week. How about a little romantic trip, just the two of us" he says sweetly, making your heart tug, you wish he was a bad guy it would make this a lot easier.

"That sounds like a great plan, I'll make it up to you tonight" you say, distracted by your thoughts.

"Well that sounds... Intriguing. I'll see you tonight babe" he hung up the phone but you kept it to your ear, still deep in thought before finally realising and putting the phone on the desk next to your computer.

You finished typing up the letter you were working on before the phone call, looking back and forth from your phone to the screen of your computer, still distracted by your thoughts. The butterflies in your stomach making you feel sick. You gave in and grabbed your phone, typing out a text quickly.

-I've told him. Pick me up from work at 5.30 Friday - you stop typing to think for a minute, before finishing the text with two kisses - xx

You try to get your head back into work, the neverending pile of deadlines building up on your desk next to you. When your phone vibrates the desk loudly, you look around to make sure no one's watching you before giving in to your curiosity and picking up your phone.

-Great, see you Friday. I can't wait to see you xxx

You try to feel excited but the overwhelming amount of guilt you feel always overrides that. You wish it could be different, that you could've met in a different way. That you could actually thoroughly enjoy the time you have together rather than feeling a deep shamefulness everytime you meet.

You've got yourself into something so deep that you can't think of a way out of it, either way it ends somebody is going to be hurt. In fact, one way or the other, you're all going to be hurt.

*******************

"Hey babe, did you have a good day?" Your boyfriend greets you as you walk into the kitchen, filled with the aromas of the food he was cooking for you.

"It was ok, busy. This smells amazing. What you making?" You ask, kissing him on the cheek as he stands over the stove, stirring a pot of delicious smelling liquid.

"I'm just making a sauce for the pasta" he says letting go of his wooden spoon and grabbing you by the hand to spin you around and face him.

"Did you bring dessert?" He says into your ear, moving your hair to the side and planting kisses down your neck.

"What no, was I supposed to?" You couldn't remember him saying anything about dessert, yet you'd been pretty distracted most of the day.

"I'm sure you said something about making it up to me tonight?" He smirks, pulling you in for a lingering open mouthed kiss.

"Oh, yeah. That kind of dessert" you say, pulling away slightly.

"Are you ok? You seem kinda ... Distracted" he asks, a look of concern on his face as you shuffle though the papers in your bag.

"No, sorry babe. It's just work, I've had a lot on my mind today" you lie, sort of. You had a lot on your mind it just wasn't work related, even though you wish it was.

As you put the papers back into your bag you can feel your phone vibrating. Fuck sake, not now. Becoming flustered you accidentally drop the bag onto the glass table, nearly jumping out of your skin from the loud noise your phone made as it hit the glass.

You notice your hands shaking as you hold your phone in front of you, cursing yourself under your breath for being so pathetic. Reading the text has your heart beating at an unbelievable pace, making you light headed and dizzy.

-Can you meet me tonight? I hate this, I hate not being able to see you whenever I like. Please Y/N xxx

You pull out a chair and sit down before you fall down, why do you have to be pulled about in so many different directions? It was so hard leading a double life and keeping your dirty little secret, it literally ate away at your soul. You were a shell of the person you used to be, completely consumed with lies and deceit.

Sleepless nights, tossing and turning caused by guilt and work schedules and then still having to sneak away whenever you could. You lost yourself, trying to keep two people happy while completely forgetting about yourself.

"Babe?"

"Huh?" You say looking up from your phone, you hadn't realised he'd been speaking to you.

"I said, red or white? He asks, furrowing his brow at you.

"Sorry, what?" You look confused, shaking your head as if to shake the thoughts right out of there. You have no idea what he's talking about.

"Wine? Foods ready. Do you want red or white... wine?" Looking more concerned.

"Oh, white please. Thank you, this looks amazing" you say, putting your phone into your shirt pocket and tucking your chair under the table, ready to get started. It really did look amazing, you don't deserve him.

You watched him sit down opposite you, his ridiculously blue eyes catching yours as his fork passes to his lips. He smiles that sweet smile at you, the one that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. The memories of the years flash in front of your eyes in an instant, the first time he told you he loved you, the first kiss, the first time you made love, beautiful, beautiful memories. You can feel a tear prickling at the corner of your eye, lowering your head, hoping he didn't see.

"Are you sure you're ok?" He asks, reaching across the table to hold your hand in his. The feel of his touch on your hand sends shivers down your spine and the tears spill from your eyes without warning. You hear his chair screech as he pushes it backwards and rushes to your side.

"Babe, please tell me what's wrong?" He kneels In front of you while you rest your head in your hands, completely overwhelmed with guilt. This poor man, my man, how could I do this to him?

"Don't be nice to me, I don't deserve it" you say, self-loathing.

"What are you talking about? Come here" he pulls you up and sits down with you on his lap, lifting your face to look at him which makes you cry even more.

"I've been so distant with you, so consumed in my damn work that I've been totally neglecting you - " you cry, looking up at him sincerely, tears streaming down your face messily " - I'm so sorry" if only he knew how sorry you actually were. You loved him, he was your first everything, which makes it even harder for you.

"Hey don't be so silly. I'm a big boy, I think I can handle you being a little distracted, it just means when we do get time together it's more special. You've put up with so much from me, with the tabloids and papparzzi. You took it all on when we were still so young and never complained once, this is nothing compared to that" he wipes the tears away from your cheeks. Oh baby, please don't blame yourself.

"I would do it all over again, you know? It was worth it, I'd never change it. You're my childhood sweetheart, we've grown up together and I... I" you're balling like a baby now.

"Shh, baby. Please don't worry about it. You need a break, you've been working way too hard" if only he knew.

He nudges the side of your face with his soft bearded cheek until you give in and look up at him. The tears are also starting to well in his eyes and he smiles at you, at how silly and emotional you're both being. You suck it up and wipe the tears away with your arm.

"Come on, I've got some making up to do" you say, leading him to the bedroom. Your phone begins to vibrate in your pocket - an incoming call. You reach in and hold down the off button, you'll deal with that later.

He stops you before you make it to the bedroom and pushes you hastily against the wall, unable to wait much longer. His hands feel their way down your body until he reaches the hem of your skirt and pushes it up to your stomach, revealing your lacey panties. Your breath hitches as he pushes himself against you, the feel of his hard cock against your exposed panties makes you forget everything else for a moment.

"I love you so fucking much" he says against your lips, biting gently on your bottom one while his hands run up and down your body. You reach down to unbutton his jeans, it's all very rushed and desperate, you need to feel each other, feel the love you have for each other. You need to show him, a painful desire that burns in your chest to show him that you love him.

So you push him backwards towards the bedroom door, your hands still working his jeans as your lips lock, never pulling apart.

Shoving him slightly too hard back onto your super-king bed in the middle of the room, you waste no time straddling him. He reaches up to unbutton your shirt, thrusting into you as he does so, the need so bad it hurt. You stopped his fingers fiddling with your button midway down your torso so you could pull off his jeans and boxers, while he props himself up on the bed with his elbows. Watching intently as you take control.

You kneel between his thighs, smoothing your hands down those thick muscles. Waiting for him to position himself at the end of the bed, making sure he has a good view before you run your pierced tongue up the shaft, all the way to the tip. Teasing him, knowing full well how it makes him feel. The ways his head falls back, his mouth hung open and the sounds falling from his lips, stir something deep inside you. It makes you feel hot to know you're turning him on this much.

Circling your pointy tongue around the tip, a sultry stare straight into his eyes makes him groan. You take his tip into your mouth, swallowing the drop of precum, licking your lips for him. Sucking on his cock, feeling it throbbing in your mouth, growing impossibly harder.

You can tell he can't handle it anymore when he pulls you onto him so you're sitting on his cock, your walls stretching around him making you both suck in air at the sensitivity. He leans back up to finish unbuttoning your shirt while thrusting his big cock, deep within you. Finally getting your shirt off, he grips his fingers into your ass cheeks, squeezing them as he sits up. Bouncing up and down on his dick, while you stare into each others eyes, the intimacy overwhelming you. Lost in the moment for a precious amount of time, feeling the sensation of your loves cock filling you up beyond limits.

You pull his shirt over his head, revealing his beautifully, tanned body. Holding on tightly to you while he pushes himself up the bed so he can lean his back against the headboard. Watching your tits move as you bounce on his cock, thrusting into you with his jaw clenched. You know that look, the way he's desperately trying not to come too quickly.

Both of your breathes are getting faster as you bounce harder, the gripping sensation rises through you.

"I love you" you say between breaths, leaning down to say it into his ear.

"Fuck - " he groans, pulling out of you quickly before he come, your rising orgasm fading away.

" - fuck Sorry, babe. That was too fucking much" He rolls you over underneath him and quickly positions himself back at your entrance, easing in painfully slowly.

Now thrusting into you at an unforgivable pace, making you gasp everytime he slammed into you. Pushing your knees back towards your face and settling himself between them, holding your head with both hands and gazing into your eyes. He's ready, you're ready, you can feel it rising as he rolls his hips into you. The look of love in his eyes making you feel emotional, he's panting and you're moaning as he lets go and pumps into you making you lose it and scream out as you gush everywhere. Holding onto the sheets, tightly, as you wait for your toes to uncurl, still inside of you he lays on your stomach trying to catch his breath. Your muscles cramp up and shake making you wince as you try to move out from underneath him

"Are you ok?" His head snaps up, concerned.

"Yeah, just cramp" you whine, stretching out your legs when he rolls to your side.

"I really do love you" you say moving into his arms.

"I know you do. I love you too" he says kissing the top of your head. You're brought back to reality when you hear your phone vibrating again on the floor, in the pocket of your shirt.

"You're popular tonight" he says noticing the sound of your phone as it vibrates the floorboards.

"It's just work, it can wait until tomorrow" you say, content being in his arms for a little longer and forgetting that anything or anyone else exists. Even if it is only for a moment.

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #smut #angst #chris hemsworth fanfic

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venus-laufeyson · 3 years

Text

I Want (Loki x Fem!Reader)

A/N: I don’t really know if I’m in love with this, but I’ve worked too hard on it to leave it sitting in my drafts! I hope you like it and if you have any suggestions I would love to hear them!

Summary: Y/N and Loki both have feelings for each other. Loki is too scared to get attached, but can’t stay away from you, so you just sleep with each other instead of committing

Warnings: Smut (18+), swearing, fluff

Word Count: 2260

Loki pushes you against the wall, you catch yourself and press your cheek against the cold brick that surrounds your studio apartment. His hands travel from your shoulders down to your hips and pull you closer to him, pressing his erection into your ass. He groans into your ear before his lips attach to your neck, biting and sucking it ferociously

“You’re going to leave a mark!” You gasp, you feel him smirk against your skin

“That’s the point, my pet.” His hand reaches down and grabs your ass with one hand and your throat with the other “Are you scared your friends are going to find out you’re a whore for me?” He growls, sending chills down your spine

“They’re not my friends.” You shake your head and he rips you from the wall, still holding a tight grip on your throat as he pushes you over to the bed, tossing you on it roughly. You land with a yelp and with a wave of his hand you’re both naked. He grabs your thighs and pulls them open, revealing your soaking wet quim.

“You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you?” He runs one of his fingers between your folds and you gasp, grabbing a hold of the sheets and bucking your hips up, craving more of his touch. “Have you been thinking about me fucking you like the whore you are all day? Pretending to listen to Stark rambling on about teamwork while you were picturing me bending you over a table and taking what’s mine?” He tilts his head, staring into your eyes “Answer me.” He demands and you gulp, nodding quickly

“Yes! I’ve been craving you all day, please, I need you to fuck me!” You beg and buck your hips up again

“Good girl.” He smiles before going down on you, placing his mouth exactly where you wanted it. You throw your head back and grab fistfuls of his hair. His tongue works miracles on your clit as he inserts two fingers inside of you, pumping and curling them in all the right ways. His name came pouring out of your mouth before you could even register your mouth was moving. This, of course only made him more determined to make you cum all over his fingers, his pace picking up. You feel heat building up in your core and you know you won’t last much longer

“Loki…” You breathe out in pure ecstasy “I’m almost…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence. He uses the hand that wasn’t currently pumping inside of you to push your legs open more. You look down at him and make eye contact, which was all you needed for the coil to snap, sending your body to its release. You pull his hair gently as he lets you ride out your first orgasm. He stands up, leaning forward and putting the fingers that just made you cum into your mouth. You suck them dry, staring into his eyes through your lashes,

“You’re such a good pet.” He purrs before grabbing our arm and pulling you off the bed, guiding you over to your desk and bending you over it, pushing your face into the wood. He uses his seidr to tie your hands behind your back. He leans over you so his whole body was flush with yours, his cock pressing into your tailbone “Now, take me good and maybe I’ll let you cum again. Okay?” He whispers into your ear

“Yes, sir.” You choke out before he slaps your ass, causing you to jump and whimper. He kicks your legs farther apart so they are spread wide open. You feel him rub the tip of his cock up and down your pussy, causing you to whimper from the overstimulation when he hit your clit. He pushes himself in you, not giving you a chance to adjust to his size. One of his hands grabs your hip tightly as the other one grabs a fistful of your hair. His cock fills and stretches you perfectly, hitting spots you didn’t even know you had. Your eyes flutter closed as moans and profanities come from your mouth

“I love watching you take my cock so well.” He growls, slapping your ass again “You’re taking it so well…” he takes his hand off your hip and wraps his arm around you, his fingers finding your clit. You gasp as he rubs circles into your clit while slamming into you.

“Fuck, Loki!” You cry out, seconds away from orgasm

“Cum for me, Pet.” His thrusts get faster as you reach your second orgasm, your walls tightening around him. He pulls out of you, unties your hands and brings you back to the bed. He sits on the edge and you climb into his lap, straddling him before grabbing his cock and guiding it back inside of you. Even though you’re on top, he never gives you full control. His hands find your hips and he determines the rhythm. Once you have the rhythm he wants he loosens his grip, letting you guide yourself as he looks up at you. You tangle your fingers in his hair while his lips find your jaw, trailing kisses all the way down to your collarbone before he grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together and forcing you to look at him. He crashes his lips to yours, attacking your lips. He bites down on your bottom lip and pulls back slowly before letting it spring back to your teeth. You pull him back to your lips, his tongue enters your mouth without permission, not that he needed it. He knows that you are his to use, when and how he sees fit. “Pet…” He groans into your mouth, signaling that he was close. You nod and pick up your pace, your own orgasm moments away.

“Loki…” You gasp, dropping your head onto his shoulder, unable to hold yourself up any longer. His hands grip your hips tightly, using you to guide you both to a shared orgasm. You tighten around him, crying out his name while he spills his seed into you.

“You did so good, you’re so good.” He praises you quietly as your hips slow to a stop. Neither of you make any attempt to move. Both of you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you. “I have to go.” He whispers into your ear and you nod slowly, still not moving as your head sits on his shoulder. You were still trying to catch your breath when he picks you up, pulls out of you which earns him a whine from you, before laying you on the bed. With a wave of his hand he cleans you up and dresses you both.

“I wish you would stay.” You whimper, cuddling into your pillow. He sighs and strokes your hair.

“I know, my Pet, but you know I can’t.”

“One night, please.” You grab his arm and try to pull him down into bed. He gives you a firm look and you quickly let go. Loki didn’t want to get attached. He would outlive you by thousands of years, so he usually leaves right after you both finish “I don’t see the harm in one night…”

“If I do it once you’ll be asking me to every night. I can’t.” He stands up off the bed. Tears begin to prick at your eyes, wanting nothing more than for him to climb into bed with you, wrap his arms around you and fall asleep. “I will see you tomorrow.” With that, he was gone. You sigh and wipe your tears, turning over in your bed and after what feels like forever, you drift to sleep.

***

You run into Stark Tower the next morning. You forgot to set your alarm so you woke up late. You push the buttons on the elevator rapidly

“Come on…” You groan under your breath before the doors open. You step into the elevator and after a very long ride, the doors open and you run down to the conference room. You stumble in the door and everyone’s eyes turn to you. You gulp and Tony raises an eyebrow

“You look like shit, rough night?” He asks as you sit in your chair next to Loki. You try not to look at him before nodding to Tony

“Yeah, I’m so sorry! My uh… my sister came over last night. We had a couple drinks and I forgot to set my alarm.” You lie and you notice Loki smirking

“Oh really? That’s so nice, what did you drink?” He asks

“Red wine.”

“What kind?”

“Merlot.”

“Liar.” His eyes trail down to your neck “Your hickeys are showing.” He points to your neck and your face turns bright red, covering your neck with your hand

“Oh! Y/N had someone over last night!” Natasha teases you and you roll your eyes

“No, let me guess, burnt your neck on your curling iron?” Tony points to you and you groan

“You’re such an ass.” You hit Loki’s arm “Can we get back to the meeting now? Some bad guy, stealing…” You look at the man's face on the board, trying to guess “artifacts…?” You knit your eyebrows and smile while everyone laughs. Tony shakes his head

“Close, but you’re actually totally wrong. This is the victim, and our suspect is a woman, who we are suspecting is actually Skrull…” You zone out again and rest your chin on your hand. Your eyes keep flicking from Tony to Loki, who is looking at his hands resting on the table. Your eyes trail down to his hands and your breathing becomes shaky, unable to think of anything over than his hands touching every inch of your skin...

***

Later that night you got home and toss your stuff on the couch before falling onto your bed face first. You hear something move behind you.

“Don’t even fucking think about it.” You mumble into the bed.

“How did you know I was here?” Loki’s voice says from behind you. You sit up and give him a look

“Other than the fact that you’ve been coming to my apartment almost every night for the past two years to fuck me, you aren’t the quietest person.” You stand up off your bed and walk over to your kitchen. “I’m really not in the mood tonight, Loki.”

“Is this about last night?” He sighs, sitting on the barstool

“No, well, yes kind of. This isn’t fair. It was fun at first and it felt good to just fuck. You helped me get over Patrick and I’m really grateful for that, but in doing that I’ve developed feelings for you. I crave more than just sex. I want you to wrap your arms around me and stroke my hair. I want you to kiss my forehead. I want to hold your hand. I want you to come over while the sun is still up. I want to cook with you. I want to lay on the couch with you and play with your hair while we watch a movie. I want to kiss your lips softly and stare into your eyes. I want so much more with you.” Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. You try to blink them away but it just causes them to spill onto your cheeks.

“You think I don’t want any of that?” He snaps at you “You think it doesn’t hurt when I have to leave you in bed crying just to go back to my chambers in Stark Tower, where no one wants me? Where everyone just puts up with me for the sake of Thor?” He stands up and walks over to you, towering over you “I want nothing more than to climb into bed with you and run my fingers through your hair until you fall asleep, but you will die. You will grow old and die before I even grow a grey hair. I don’t want the pain of losing you for eternity.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks and you swallow hard

“Wouldn’t the time we do have be perfect though? Wouldn’t it be worth it? I understand where you’re coming from and that’s why I’ve dealt with this for so long, but...isn’t it better to love and have lost, than to never have loved at all?” He rolls his eyes

“You and your Midgardian quotations.” He shakes his head as you reach your hand up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to your lips. Your lips dance together before he picks you up and sits you on the island. His hand cups your face while the other sits on your thigh. He pulls away after a moment, resting his forehead on yours and looking down into your eyes. Your stomach flips and you bite your bottom lip, refusing to take your eyes from his

“I love you more than there are words to describe how much I love you.” He whispers softly

“I love you too.” Was all your brain could think to say, causing him to chuckle softly. The smile on his face makes your stomach do another flip and you can’t help but smile too, looking down at your hand that was sitting on his chest. He grabs your hair and yanks it back roughly, causing you to gasp and look up at him

“You are still my pet in bed, understood?” He growls at you and you nod vigorously

“I want nothing more.”

#loki #mcu loki #loki smut #loki fluff #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #tom hiddleston #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #loki of asgard #loki marvel

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destiniesfic · 4 years

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Folktober 02 — for @jurdannet/@jurdannetrevels. Jude was never taken to Faerie and grew up in blissful ignorance of the fair folk — mostly — until the night they tried to steal her twin sister away. (CW this chapter for drugging via faerie wine.)

“Bring her here,” says Cardan.

I am still squirming, but Valerian lifts me clean off my feet and carries me around the bonfire. Nobody cares about my shrieking, either, and despite my earlier threat we’re probably too far from the road for anyone else to hear. I try to make eye contact with the guitar player, but he stares through me, plucking at his strings.

Valerian deposits me at Cardan’s side, on the same soft red blanket he sprawls atop. I try to scramble away, but Valerian puts his hands on my shoulders and holds me in place with what seems like very little effort. Cardan doesn’t lift a finger this entire time, just watches me with his black hole eyes. He is obviously in charge here. Hadn’t Locke called him a prince?

“Look how frightened it is,” snickers Valerian. “Look how it trembles.”

It’s true: I am shaking, even though I desperately wish to stop. Being so near to them is terrifying. Up close, everything about Cardan is sharp and dangerous, nature’s way of saying “keep out!” He’s beautiful, too, but in the same way those tiny, brightly-colored frogs in the pages of the NatGeo magazine my parents got when we were kids are beautiful. Basically, touch at your peril.

“What are you going to do?” I ask him, trying to shake Valerian off without much success. “Are you going to eat me?”

The blue-haired girl, Nicasia, throws her head back and laughs. “You should be so lucky, mortal girl.”

Her companion, Locke, frowns. “You don’t mean to keep her as a pet, do you?”

“Balekin has plenty of moral pets,” Cardan says. “Surely he won’t begrudge me one of my own.”

I don’t like the sound of that.

“You have to let me go,” I tell him. “My parents will notice I’m gone by morning. They’ll worry. And Taryn— we have homework. And I’m waiting for my college applications to come in. And—”

“I don’t have to do anything.” He looks me over. His eyelashes are so long and thick that they cast fleeting shadows against his cheeks. “It’s a shame. You’re amusing like this, but too difficult to manage. Open your mouth.”

I blink. “What? Why?”

“You belong to me now, and you dare question my orders? Open your mouth or I’ll pry it open myself.”

Somehow, I get the sense that he’s showing off for his friends. I weigh what’s left of my dignity against my desire to make him struggle, and decide I should save up my defiance. I’ll need it.

God, I hope Taryn gets home safe.

I open my mouth, but only a little. I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. He’s so pretty that about ten percent of me almost wants it, which must be how they get you. At least the other ninety percent is keeping her head. If he kisses me, will I die? I wish I’d read more about faeries. I wish I paid more attention to my parents.

Cardan rests a beringed hand against my jaw. Then, before I can jerk my head away, he pours a little of his wine into my mouth.

I rear back, coughing. I can hear them all laughing now. Valerian lets go of me, and I wipe at my face, trying to sop up the wine that spilled from my lips. I know I swallowed some; it lingers, overly sweet, on my tongue.

“What was that?” I snap, but it doesn’t have the venom I’d like. I am already feeling lightheaded. What was that rule? Don’t eat or drink anything?

Oh no. No no no.

“It’s a revel,” Cardan explains. “A small one, but a revel still. And you were of no mind for revelry. A taste should be more than enough to remedy that. Tell me, how do you feel now?”

I blink a couple of times. I remember being afraid, but fear feels very far away now. Like I’ve woken from a nightmare. It lingers, but is quickly shaken off. In its place is just… ease. Elation. My body feels free. Even the aches from my last sword practice with dad in the backyard are gone.

“I feel great,” I say honestly, grinning at him. “Wow, your face is close.”

He grins back. “Better. I have much I would ask of you, mortal Jude. Why not come a little closer?”

I lean toward him. Maybe he’ll kiss me now. I don’t know why that was such a bad idea ten seconds ago. His mouth looks soft.

But instead of doing any such thing, Cardan slides two long fingers down my sweatshirt collar and pulls it aside. A brief look of triumph flashes across his face as he fishes out my string of dried rowan berries. “You do know something of our ways,” he murmurs, and I am pleased by his satisfaction. “Locke, what do you make of this?”

Locke moves as if to get up, but Nicasia shifts so that her head is on his lap. He peers across at us instead. “Were you sent by someone?”

I shake my head, bewildered.

“Who gave you the rowan berries?”

“My mom,” I say, smiling at him. There doesn’t seem to be any harm in saying it. Besides, I want to help these beautiful strangers. I want them to like me. “She says to always put them on when we’re venturing out. Taryn doesn’t wear hers anymore, though.”

“And there is the difference between you and your sister. I imagine you’ll have questions for your mother, should you see her again,” Cardan says. He slips the berries back down into my collar and gives my sternum a pat, as if tucking them in. I don’t bother to question why he phrases it like that.

“This is dull,” Valerian complains, sitting by the fire and making one of the hikers pour him more wine. “Are you going to tumble her or not?”

I let out a nervous giggle, because that hadn’t occurred to me, but why not? Wouldn’t it be fun? They’re all so pretty. Cardan’s eyes narrow, though. Apparently he doesn’t agree that it would be fun. “What, here? In the dirt? Certainly not.”

“What would be the appeal of cavorting with a mortal?” Nicasia asks loudly. “They’re such dirty, short-lived things.”

“Really?” There is something odd and tense in Cardan’s voice. I cock my head toward him, trying to pick it out. Like pulling a loose thread on a scarf. “What had you and Locke planned for the sister, then?”

Nicasia sputters, and Valerian laughs. The words wash over me. I barely mark them.

“It is said they have a certain earthy charm,” Locke remarks, unruffled as ever. “Although I myself would not know. Would you, Cardan? Your home is filled to the brim with mortals.”

“No,” Cardan says. Something has upset him. I rest my head on his shoulder, and he looks at me like he forgot I was there.

“I would know,” says Valerian, although no one asked him. “The charm is in reminding them where they belong. Beneath us.”

“Now, that is dull talk,” Cardan sighs. He drinks deeply from his goblet then flops back onto his cushions. “Come, Jude, lie back with me and we shall watch the stars until midnight.”

I do as I’m told. It’s nice, being close to him. His body is so warm, and I haven’t had the chance to just lie next to a boy before. Or anyone I wasn’t related to, really. Mom and Dad and Taryn and Vivi and I would pile onto the same couch to watch movies, back before Vivi went away to college, but of course that isn’t the same as this. There’s familial intimacy, and then there’s a night alive with possibility, and the body of someone pretty beside you.

I bury my face in Cardan’s shoulder. He smells sweet, like apple blossoms, like cinnamon on morning toast, like all the good things. “What happens at midnight?” I ask him. I don’t want this to ever end.

“Oh, Jude,” he says on another sigh. “At midnight, we go home.”

---

Tagging people who said they wanted a part 2 (in comments or tags): @lilithsaur @highqueenofelfhame @fantasyfox101 @emeralddaydream13 @b00kworm @amandlas @gellavonhamster If you want to be tagged in future posts, let me know!

#jurdannet #jurdannetrevels #folktober2020 #jurdan #judecardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #tfota #mine: fic #fic: folktober

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years

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Fallen From Grace Part 2. Yan Giorno x Reader [COMM]

Click here for part one!

Luxury surrounds you at every turn, and tonight is so different.

The dish that’s sitting in front of you for tonight is bruschetta, a dish warm and inviting in contrast with its desolate surroundings. Bread grilled in a brick oven with fine, expensive cheese melted onto it, hints of garlic and olive oil mixing in to create a drool inducing image. On top lays a light garnish of parsley, bright green contrasting the deep reds of the tomato.

Every one of your meals is similar in this refined quality. It felt jarring at first, having every need of yours attended to with utmost care. Not only because it’s unusual to be treated with this regard, but because of those who carry the actions out themselves.

They scurry around you, gaze cowering to the ground and voice meeker than a mouse. On the scarce occasion they find it absolutely necessary to ask you a question related to your preferences, their eyes never dare to meet your own. A sudden interest in the top of their shoes develops, or fiddling with any objects in hand. Your premature conclusion was that they were too guilt ridden to even look at you.

Now, lips pressing against a glass and taking in sips of cool water, you know the lamentable truth.

It isn’t that the servants of this villa feel remorse for standing by and enabling your isolation, failing to assist at any opportunity. No, money can soothe any scathing concerns in that regard. It’s a different poison, far more venomous than all consuming guilt. It’s a primal fear of Italy’s most powerful don that drives their complacency, in sight of immoral actions.

Spineless cowards. Every single one of them.

You return the cup to its original place on the long, wooden table. The muted sound is the only one in the grand dining room, aside from occasional silverware hitting a plate across from you. Since the beginning of dinner, you’ve made it a point to ignore him. Too many troubles to count plague your mind, the man on the other side of the table being the source.

Uneasy silence does not last as long as you wish it would. He gently clears his throat, a signal that shouldn’t go ignored. Looking up now, you’re unsurprised to see Giorno’s ever watchful gaze meeting you back. Pale skin is illuminated by flickering candlelight, golden hair framing his mature face.

There’s a closed mouth smile on his face, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Unsettling.

“Do you still not feel hungry?”

Giorno’s voice startles you, fingers twitching by your side. Time is an elusive thing, minutes always seeming to blur together, creating an incoherent mess. How long have the two of you been sitting here? Ten or so minutes, is your guess. Judging from his plate being almost finished, you realize just how long your thoughts were holding you captive.

Swallowing back the bile that creeps into your throat, your eyelids flutter shut. “Ah… something like that. You don’t need to wait for me, I’m sure you’re busy.”

It’s Giorno’s turn now to take a sip from a wine glass, swirling the white liquid before raising it to his mouth. It’s rare that he drinks, a distaste for heavy alcohol consumption a moral code embedded in his person. Moscato d’Asti if you recall correctly, which you declined an offer for earlier. From the bottle alone you surmise it cost a fortune.

“You’ve hardly eaten anything today,” Giorno points out to you, voice leaving little room for argument. He looks at your untouched plate, frowning at the undesirable sight. “Should I have something else prepared for you…?”

Exhaling shakily, you accentuate your disinterest in the subject by avoiding eye contact. It’s been like this lately, always placed under a magnifying glass. A tense exchange between supposed lovers, neither cluing the other of their true agendas. In this twisted parody of a dance, Giorno claims a clear upper hand. He leads you according to his own tempo, never once stopping to let you regain your breath.

Even with him out of your vision, you still feel the crushing weight of his stare. You swallow despite the dryness of your mouth, reaching once more for the soothing glass of water. Panic has long since settled in, disrupting any logical way of thinking and successfully shaking you up. How long can you hide your secrets from him? At this rate, you won’t last much longer.

It all started four, excruciatingly long days ago.

Marco, a guard who you have grown fond of, seemingly vanished into thin air. Along with all the other workers. No explanation, no clues, nothing. The days that followed left you littered with doubts and soul crushing anxiety, taking your every thought hostage. Did something happen to him? If so, what? Did Giorno learn of your secret interactions with him? And if he did, how the hell is he remaining so composed?

“You’ve been zoning out often.”

It’s unfair how he can pick up on your behavior without even trying. Being picked apart and analyzed in real time has never been your favorite, yet it feels even more dreadful now. When you first arrived in this golden barred cage, you had nothing to hide. Now, the burdens of your sins against Giorno threaten to swallow you entirely.

Nails threaten to puncture the soft skin of your palm, hands balled into tight fists on your lap. Every little poke and prod of Giorno’s comments further torments you, sending you into a spiral of never ending despair. Controlling your outward reactions is the bare minimum you can offer at the moment, too skittish to do anything else. Even the sight of delicious food in front of you sends your stomach churning, the scent of it bringing nausea rooted in crippling anxiety.

He has to know, right? Everything would make so much more sense if he did. It would explain this surreal, benevolent streak that emerged from him seemingly unprompted. It’s not that Giorno was ever outright cruel to you, until this point, you were given your space. No longer is that a luxury you can experience.

The past few days he’s been practically glued to your side, giving you no time to get your bearings. An unrelenting attack from all angles. It’s an impossible feat to maintain a facade of cluelessness like you were able to before.

Giorno tilts his head, still awaiting a proper answer. Gathering what remnants of strength that remain, you hurriedly utter to half the truth. “I-I haven’t been feeling well.”

This disclosure earns you a worried glance. He looks at you a moment longer -- as if searching for something -- before pulling back his chair. It groans against the wooden floor in protest, steady footsteps approaching you. Now by your side, he bends down to inspect you further. A tentative hand is placed to your forehead, assessing your condition from a closer perspective.

“You don’t feel warm.” he murmurs while retracting his hand, the action giving you a chance to breathe normally again. Does that mean he thinks you’re lying? Not giving you any further hints at his inner thoughts, Giorno stands by your seated form in silence. In hopes of avoiding suspicion, you come up with a rushed explanation.

“I’m tired, that’s all,” you scratch your cheek, finding difficulty in maintaining your composure. “It’s really nothing to worry about, Giorno. A few restless nights won’t do me in.”

If a physical ailment was bothering you, Giorno’s ability could serve to aid you. There isn’t anything his Stand can do for exhaustion though, not to your knowledge. He blinks, long eyelashes fluttering in the process. Whether he believes you or not is in the air. The topic is left to the wayside for now, much to your inner relief.

You had gotten sick once in the past. Even more freedoms were stolen from you, health professionals sworn to Passione monitoring you around the clock. Privacy was nonexistent, a true nightmare of an experience. It was only a mild fever, nothing that could cause any true harm. Giorno took it seriously, acting in an abundance of over protection until you recovered.

It won’t be ideal for you if that happens again. For almost a week you were forced to the confines of your bed, taking bitter medicines and eating only bland, nutritious food. That period of time made you go borderline stir crazy, having nothing to do aside from entertaining your malicious thoughts. If he’s thinking about putting you through that again, you’re unable to tell.

Composed and serene as ever, he takes your hand up from your lap with tender affection.

“[First]...” your name rolls off his tongue in a low tone, his deep voice and close proximity causing your pulse to quicken. “If there’s anything on your mind, know that you can come to me.”

Your breath hitches, all hairs on the back of your neck standing. So he has noticed, or believes your anguish is related to something other than physical illness. It makes more sense why he’s insisted on having you in his presence, to keep you in his sight. To make sure you’re not misbehaving.

The coarse pad of his thumb rubs over your hand in slow, methodical circles. Involuntarily, your hand begins to tremble. There’s not an opportunity to state your case against his words before he speaks up again, words intent on placating you.

“There must be something I can do for you. I hate seeing you troubled like this.”

You need to think of a diversion. Fast. He’s eroding your defenses, goading you into spilling the hideous truth of your disobedience. A small voice in your head pleads with you, whispering that maybe he’ll forgive you if you confess now. For you to beg for amnesty, claiming the depths of loneliness you’ve felt all this time. Would that cause him to take pity on you?

Or would you suffer greater lengths than before for your misdeeds?

Pushing down the temptation, a hopeful idea comes to mind. Deft fingers wrap around his hand, a tired smile on your lips. “You’re very considerate. It really isn’t anything bad, I’ve just had a few rough nights. I’ll try sleeping earlier tonight and seeing if that helps.”

Giorno gives your hand a final squeeze before pulling away. “Ah, of course. Whatever you feel is best.”

It’s a small victory, holding purpose to you. You can’t make any moves under his scrutinizing presence, the threat of alerting him by acting suspicious constant. He can’t be around like this forever, Giorno’s position requires constant attention. Even a few days into him not leaving the premises, you’re having trouble adjusting. It has to be a temporary arrangement, he won’t always be able to monitor you. When the opportunity presents itself, you’ll learn the truth about Marco.

You swear this to yourself.

“I’ve read that relaxing before going to bed helps with sleeping problems. Let’s walk around the gardens together, and see if that helps.” he phrases it like a suggestion, but you know better. It looks like you won’t be escaping Giorno’s presence anytime soon, an oasis of sleep slipping through your fingers like sand. Offering a meek nod instead of utilizing your voice, you mimic his previous actions and get up from your seat.

Giorno extends an arm to you, which you accept. It’s not that you want to, per se, it’s that you need to maintain the charade from before. Marco suggested to you that if you act less combative to your husband, he might grant you more freedoms. Which you desperately want to attain. In light of his sudden disappearance, it would be suspicious to stop acting like this. Reverting to your former harsh behavior won’t do anything good.

The new disposition worked in your favor. Instead of ignoring Giorno or cursing him like before, you acted tamer. And, as Marco predicted, some embargoes on your freedoms were steadily lifted. Acting like a loving wife to a man you feel nothing about animosity for isn’t an easy task. It’s a survival tactic.

You catch a whiff of Giorno’s light cologne, the scent dotting your skin with goosebumps. He’s always been a man of fine taste, you must confess. Once at his side, he begins to walk in the familiar direction of his outdoor gardens. The spot is a grandiose one, awe-inspiring flowers from all over the world appearing in full bloom. Even out of season plants are capable of flourishing, which you suspect is due to Giorno’s Stand.

For such a reprehensible person, he sure has a beautiful ability.

He looks lost in his own thoughts for most of the walk, and finally speaks up often a prolonged silence. “I’ve noticed how you enjoy your time in the gardens.”

Struggling to keep up with his pace and balance your rapid thoughts, you take a moment before responding. “Gardening is something I always wanted to try. When I first looked into it, I never realized how expensive a hobby it is.”

He hums in response, offering a moment of reprieve from stressful conversation.

When the two of you walk outdoors, you’re greeted by the crisp evening air. The sun is just beginning to set in the sky, warm colors embracing the expansive greenery. A main path leads up to an outdoor fountain, which emits a noise of rushing water. On either side of you are a variety of shrubs, pink and blue hydrangeas in bloom. A cicada beats its wings in the distance, a telltale time of summer.

The openness the outdoors brings with it a false sense of solace. You prefer this to the confining walls of inside Giorno’s mansion, which bring with them melancholic memories. A single aspect of this area has earned your ire, the large window above that is attached to his office. You’ve looked up to see Giorno watching over you for a few seconds. Further cementing the idea that you’re never truly alone.

Silence settles in between the two of you, weaving through winding paths and mossy stone arches. This is a part of the garden you don’t come to as often, you notice. Rounding a final corner around some hedges, you spot a stunning collection of flowers that must be new. From a dark center, pointed petals emerge, jet black in color with hints of crimson on the edges.

Giorno pauses to observe the mesmerizing blossoms as well, reaching out to inspect a petal. As soon as he touches it, his lips curl into a frown, almost like he’s remembering something. “A few days ago, I decided I wanted this addition. I got what I needed to grow it this morning.”

You thought that Gold Experience could create life from anything, so it doesn’t make sense to you why he needed to wait for the arrival of something. Maybe even Stands have limits? Any desire to ask about it is stifled by the fact that you’re talking to Giorno, curiosity fizzling out as fast as it sparked.

He pulls a handkerchief out from a pocket within his suit, and wipes off his fingers that had touched the flower.

“Black dahlias. It isn’t a flower most people would associate with summer, but I found myself interested in them.” he offers a look into his inner thoughts, a rare occurrence. You wait patiently, sensing he has more to say.

“All plants have different meanings, some even having their own folklore. Tell me, [First], what do you believe black dahlias represent?”

A perplexing question. Not wanting to offer a halfhearted answer in fear of being reprimanded, you give it some thought. Darker colors typically symbolize negative feelings, at least in literature. It’s possible the same logic applies here. In the distant past, you’d read online about an unsolved murder case in America by the name of The Black Dahlia. It seems anything with the name can’t be a good omen.

Humming in thought, you offer the best guess you can concoct. “I’m not the best with stuff like this… if I had to guess, I’d say it means suffering. Or something to that effect.”

“Very close. Not quite,” Giorno’s eyes betray the calm delivery of his words, a hidden storm within. “What black dahlias symbolize… is betrayal.”

You’d swallow if you could.

In a single instance, it feels like all the air has been forcibly punched from your lungs, body going numb and blood running cold as ice. Every ounce of strength that hasn’t been sapped from you goes to keeping your knees from buckling, mouth dry and tongue like sandpaper. He doesn’t blink, waiting patiently to see what your next move will be.

He knows. You don’t know how, but he knows. Similar to how a predator toys with its prey before devouring it, he’s testing you. Gauging for a reaction, savouring the guilt that rolls off you in palpable waves. Options and time are limited, both a dry well as he expects a response.

Your resolve begins to wilt, perishing under the harsh conditions it's been placed. Roots crumbling and petals falling to the ground, it’s a competition within your mind to see what thought will win. Marco risked his own livelihood in order to give you companionship, to make you feel human again. Can you stay afloat under this immense pressure?

With unexpected speed, you decide. There’s no backing down now. You’ll see this treacherous charade through until the bitter end. It’s what you owe to him, what you owe to yourself. If it’s games that Giorno wants to play, then so be it.

“My guess was close then, wasn’t it?” you force a light laugh at the end of your sentence, straightening your posture and giving him your best smile. Within the depths of his countenance is an unidentifiable emotion, his jaw tight and eyes studying. All intensity melts away within an instant, the Giorno you’re used to seeing reappearing in front of you.

“Yes, yes it was.”

Without his prompting to do so, you wrap your arms around his arm once again. Letting out a soft exhale, you speak up, hoping to rid yourself of this tense atmosphere. “A walk was just the thing I needed. I feel better already, still a little tired though…”

It isn’t a regular occurrence that you touch Giorno of your own will. You can’t remember the last time you’d done it, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He subtly leans into your touch, welcoming the warmth it brings. Hope erupts within your chest, that you can still play innocent and get away with your grievances.

Now that you’ve been removed from the moment, your mind is clearer. Capable of reasoning with itself, instead of scrambling to react. It’s a possibility that Giorno has an inkling of suspicion, and nothing solid to grasp it. Giving yourself up and playing right into his hand is exactly what he wants, and you adamantly refuse to do it. It’s shameful that you even thought about giving up, even if it was only for a brief moment.

It could be the fried nerves, that you find yourself rambling more than you normally do. “I never asked, but how was your day? You always ask me about mine, so it seems right that I’d return the favor.”

“Busy, not much more than usual though. I regret not being able to join you for breakfast. I had... something to attend to.” Giorno reminisces back to this morning, tone lighter than before. It looks like your hunch of him not knowing anything concrete could be true. A passing breeze ruffles through your hair, cool air serving to calm you down more.

You can do this. You’ll make it through the storm, and find out the truth on your own terms.

“There’s always tomorrow,” you gently tug at his arm, back in the direction of the house. “Can we… can we head back? I still want to try and sleep, even if it’s early.”

Never one to deny you anything, he starts the walk back, and you follow suit. “I’ve never seen you this talkative before, [First].”

You’ve never felt the need to talk this much until now. Rambling about nonsensical topics gives your overwhelmed brain a much needed reprieve. If there’s anything good you have to say about Giorno, it’s that he’s an excellent listener. Never interrupting, always offering his full attention. He never offers his input more than he sees necessary.

The comment doesn’t feel like a pointed one, rather a truthful observation. You let out a sigh.

“I’ve always had a lot to say,” you start with a purse of your lips, mindful of yourself. But I hate you. “Once you get me talking, you’ll miss the days I was quiet.”

He doesn’t buy into the self derogatory statement, and shakes his head. “I could never tire of hearing your voice.”

You open your mouth, only to close it again. Warmth erupts onto your face, the genuine delivery of a line only Giorno could deliver properly. Displays of heartfelt fondness leave you taken aback, never allowing you to understand the man by your side. How can he say in good conscience that he loves you, while taking you from everything you’ve ever known?

Giorno Giovanna, who you’ve spent a little over a year with, is still an enigma to you.

When you spoke with Marco, rarely did either of you bring him up. Out of respect for your feelings, you guess. On the rare occasion you did ask a question about Giorno, there weren’t any clear answers. All he knows is that Giorno took over Passione at a young age, and issued wide reform of the gang that extends worldwide.

The fact is an intimidating one, since he’s so close to you.

Now back inside, evening has settled in. Long halls are deserted of any life, only you and Giorno occupying them. It’s off putting, you can’t think of the last time you’ve seen this home so empty. There must be someone here, if your meals were made. Other than that, the only human being you’ve seen is Giorno.

Your shared master bedroom is on the second floor, and after an uneventful trip, he holds the large doors open for you to enter first.

Lavish and not obnoxious in its designs, this room is where you spent all your time when you first arrived. Not of your own will, since you were antagonistic. Looking at the custom glass windows, it brings back memories of desperately trying to break them with different furniture. Then the noise of doing so getting you in even more trouble.

Next was an iron shackle against your ankle, metal cold against your skin and uncomfortable.

Compared to that, you should feel like your current condition is better. Now it’s mental strain instead of physical. There never is rest for the weary.

Hands of the grandfather clock in your room read 8:24 PM. Your guess is that Giorno will dismiss himself any moment now, heading to his office and giving you much needed space. It’s an unspoken routine that you’ve fallen into. Though you ultimately sleep in the same bed at night, Giorno doesn’t join you until much later, if at all. Being in charge of Passione is a full time commitment.

With a muted thud, the door closes behind you. Giorno draws the curtains over the windows shut, cutting off what little sunlight shone through. Fully mesmerized with his graceful actions, you find yourself staring. It’s when he starts unzipping the top of his royal blue suit that you realize he isn’t intending to leave anytime soon.

Looking for something to preoccupy yourself with, you get ready for bed yourself. The marble ground of the master bathroom feels cold against your bare feet, causing you to shiver and mutter a quiet curse. After brushing your teeth, you open the door to see Giorno still getting changed, bare back facing towards you. Why is he still here?

Reading your thoughts, he turns around, white pajama shirt in hand. “Is something wrong, [First]? You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.”

He can be teasing when he wants, much to your chagrin. Sucking in a deep breath, you give your honest thoughts in a strained voice. “It’s just, I thought you’d have work to do.”

“I’ve taken care of what I need to today,” he lifts the plain shirt over his head while he speaks, the material stretching against his defined muscles. “So, I’ll spend time with mi cara. It’s been a trying week.”

Well, that makes two of us.

His last comment makes you curious. Giorno isn’t the type to complain, if he sees a problem he dedicates himself to fixing it. What is it that managed to earn an admission like that? You’ll test your luck and press further, seeing if you learn anything. It could be related to Marco’s disappearance.

“Trying…?” you repeat back, testing the word on your tongue. Giorno pulls his braid over his shoulder, and you recognize what that means. Before he gets the opportunity to fiddle with the restraints himself, you walk over to his side and start on it. He allows you to do so, shoulders relaxing as you pull the hair tie out.

“I shouldn’t burden you unnecessarily.”

His golden hair is like silk between your fingers, having a light floral scent. You furrow your eyebrows while working through undoing the braid, combing through it. He subtly leans into your touch, eyelids fluttering close at your soothing maneuvers. Prying the truth from him will take more effort.

“It’s not a burden.” you reassure, pulse quickening at the anticipation his silence brings. Worst case scenario, he’ll deflect again and you’ll drop the subject. Feeling inquisitive leaves you unsatisfied, Giorno opting to leave you in the dark about most matters.

“There was a plot uncovered, relating to you.”

Your actions cease, body frozen on the spot.

“It was a threat on your life to weaken me. This morning, everything was taken care of, so you have nothing to worry about. That’s the reason I’ve been working from home the past few days,” he runs a hand through his hair, and turns to face your stunned form. “I’d never allow any harm to befall you. New staff will be replacing the previous one, there’s nothing to disprove that they weren’t all involved.”

“A few workers were going to get close to you, and draw out information about me. Then... ah, well. It doesn’t matter now.”

What he’s saying makes logical sense. You’re the wife of a powerful man, who has more enemies than you could ever hope to count. Your mind drifts to Marco, and the time that you had spent with him. A seed of doubt is planted within you, knowing that Giorno distrusted his former staff enough to get rid of all of them. Those men and women were tested vigorously, so for him to now distrust them...

That leaves a single, haunting question that you don’t want to entertain. Was Marco getting close to you, with the sole purpose of murdering you at the best opportunity? It… it can’t be like that. You spent hours by his side, laughing and reminiscing over snacks and games. He told you about his family, the misfortune that befell his sweet sister, his inner conflict of working for Giorno at your expense.

When Marco rarely spoke of Giorno, he did ask a few questions about his routine. You thought it was so the two of you could speak together with ease, and sneak around.

You had cared for him. In the deepest sentiment your broken heart could conjure, you really did. It was the highlight of your day, what you looked forward to every morning when you woke up. The reassurance he would offer, giving you that extra push to carry on your miserable parody of a life.

Mouth agape, no words can form on your dry tongue. Giorno must mistake your inner conflict for worry over the undone plot on your life, running his hands up and down your arms. He pulls you into a hug in hopes of comforting your shaking form, and you hate yourself for accepting it.

Nothing makes sense. This has to be a trick, a cruel misunderstanding. Why has the universe seen fit to toss and turn you at every chance, jostling your being to the core. Vacillating between two sides of yourself, the one that wants to believe him and the one that doesn’t.

Wetness drips down your cheeks, finally breaking down. You sniffle against his shoulder, even more upset with yourself for willingly accepting his embrace. It’s not that the thought of death bothered you, it’s what your trust was broken. Was everything Marco told you a ruse?

You don’t know. You suppose no one other than the aforementioned person knows, if he’s still alive. It’s embarrassing, truly humiliating to know you told him the secrets of yourself. All for it to amount to nothing, a dagger twisting into your side repeatedly.

Giorno hushes you, pulling you tighter against him. He coos sweet words into your ear, now rubbing the small of your back. You take all of him in, accepting him in a moment of profound weakness. There’s deep pain, first, then nothing. Emotions come to a halt, numbness settling in as you cease weeping.

What is there to feel now?

Soft lips press against your forehead, Giorno offering a chaste kiss. This amount of physical affection is the most he’s ever given you at once, now offering you all of himself. Too weak to protest, you close your eyes, wanting to sleep and never worry about anything again.

Why try anymore.

Giorno... did he speak the complete truth? That you can only trust him? He’s given you everything you could ask for, always turning the other cheek when you lashed out at him. He loves you, in his own twisted way. Even after all the rejection you spewed at him, he loves you still.

“Amore, oh amore,” he whispers into your ear, warm breath causing you to shudder. He pulls back from your amorous embrace, taking your face in his thumb and lifting it. “I’ll take care of everything. Come, let’s get you cleaned up for the night. You must be tired, hm?”

So, so tired. Of everything. Of this life you live.

Arms sneak around your shaking torso once more, and he places his head atop yours. Tears are gone for now, a well long dried up. Now, you stand and shake. Head devoid of coherent thoughts, limp against him. He holds you up, keeping you steady.

You close your eyes. Has Giorno always smelled this pleasant? It’s starting to grow on you. Your ear is against his chest, his skin pressed against your own. Listening carefully, you hear the steady thump of his heart. The one before that you thought to place a knife through, now bringing you solace.

What a joke this world is.

Giorno accepts you, always. Like he said time and time again, the words now settling in. You mutter something against his chest, voice seemingly inaudible. Even you are uncertain of what they are, yet he seems to understand nonetheless.

And he smiles, content.

#giorno #giorno giovanna x reader #yandere giorno #yandere giorno giovanna #yandere giorno giovanna x reader #yandere giorno x reader #Giorno Giovanna #giovanna giorno #giorno x reader #JoJo's Bizzare Adventure #jojo's bizarre adventures #yandere jojo's bizzare adventure #yandere jojo x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff #commissions

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hoseokmylovesworld · 3 years

Text

Yes, Dear | Sub!Jin

Pairing: Sub!Jin x Dom!Reader

Requested: “Can i request top sub Jin x bottom dom reader?”

Genre: Smut, BTS smut, oneshot.

Length: 5,633k Words

Warnings: Strong language, oral sex (female and male receiving), fingering, mutual masturbation, BDSM, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, praise kink, choking, sight deprivation, spanking, slapping, cock ring, rope restraints, multiple orgasms, Top simp Sub!Jin, a very hungry Bottom Dom!Reader, sweet assistant Jimin, Smut with a plot.

A/N:

1. I said it was gonna be a while, but I lied. This was the easiest thing in my prompts to write and I have finals to finish so here you go! See y’all in a bit!

2. AH! I’ve never written for Jin before or for a male sub so for this to be the first entry under his name in my masterlist is...interesting to say the least aha. Our poor Jin

3. I hope it’s everytihng you ever wanted request anon. Y’all feel free to comment your thoughts!

You cursed for the nth time today when you opened your desk drawer to see that the folders you had been looking for, for over fifteen minutes weren’t there either. You sighed heavily, plopping into your computer chair and holding the intercom that connected you to your assistant. “Jimin, can you come here please?” You rushed out frustratedly.

He came into your office not thirty seconds later with that same old attentive expression that seemed to be glued to his face. “Yes, Miss Y/L/N?” You groaned. “For the last time, call me Y/N.”

“Yes, Y/N.” He nodded quickly. “What can I do for you?” The black haired boy chirped eagerly.

“Can you find me some more folders? Hanging file, manila, tab folders, I don’t care, just bring me some please? I don’t know how I didn’t notice I ran out-” You made a sweeping motion with your hand and knocked your coffee cup off the desk in front of you and into your lap. Scalding coffee spilled onto your blouse and skirt, burning your chest and seeping into your shoes.

“Fuck!” You yelped, jumping up from your seat to avoid further spillage, making Jimin jump in the process. You close your eyes and attempt to gather yourself. You do what your therapist suggests and count down from ten to get your breathing back in order and your temper in check. You knew this day was going to be shite when you were running late for work. When the barista got your order wrong and had you sipping on disgusting coffee all day. When you stepped into a puddle on your way into the building. When you couldn’t seem to find anything in your office and it’s being proven as you look down at the brown liquid soaking into your cream blouse that today was indeed a shitty day.

“Jimin, find me a new blouse as well.” You grumbled, going to clean up the mess.

He spoke up shyly. “Uh, where should I get-”

“Just get one!” You exploded at him regretting it immediately, but he was scurrying out of the office in search of the folders and blouse before you could apologize.

You finish cleaning to the best of your ability before collapsing once more. You rested your elbows on the desk and massaged the bridge of your nose defeatedly. You didn’t need this, you thought bitterly.

You needed comfort, release, reassurance. Upon making this conclusion, you sat up and pulled out your phone to text your fiance because you decided you need to let off some steam.

“It’s been a day and I need you to take care of me. I want dinner on the table and a foot rub when I get home. Understood?” You pressed send easily, fully expecting your partner to come through with no questions or complaints. And just as you suspected, his reply was prompt.

“Yes, dear. I can’t wait to see you, my beautiful goddess.” You smiled fondly down at your phone. He always knew just how to lift your spirits. You went about the rest of your day feeling slightly better, knowing what was waiting for you when you got home.

On your way out of the office, you spotted Jimin at his desk and paused. “Hey, Jimin. I’m sorry about earlier. Today has not been the best.” You stammered softly.

His eyes widened with understanding and he rushed out sympathetically, “Oh, no, it’s okay. I get it.”

“Okay, good. I mean, thank you. Have a good day.” He wished you the same and then you were all but running to your car to get home to your fiance.

You entered the house and breathed in deeply, closing your eyes at the amazing savory smell filling the room. When you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of Seokjin rounding the corner into the foyer in his crisp white apron that you loved so much. He wore a baby blue button up and black slacks, looking as handsome as you had ever seen him. He removed his apron and tossed it over the back of the couch before he approached you.

“Hello, dear.” He hummed with an affectionate smile and then cupped your cheek in his hand, bringing your face to his for a chaste, but amorous kiss. You returned it wholeheartedly, just happy to be home and with him again. He pulled away too quickly for your liking and you caught the neckline of his shirt, bringing him back down to you forcefully.

You capture his lips in a more wanton kiss and wrap your arms around his neck. He smiles into the kiss and even hums giddily into your mouth. Your lips moved and molded against each other sensually as Jin finally brought his hands to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

You suddenly reached up and tugged on his hair harshly, separating your mouths. You smirked at the gasp that left his perfect lips.

“I missed you, kitten.” You purred, leaning in to place feather light kisses on his neck. He shuddered slightly at the sensation, and at the pet name; the one that let him know what time it was. His attitude turned docile and he was ready to take orders. He purred right back in anticipation, “I missed you too, dear.”

“What did you make me?” You murmured, nosing gently at his jugular and taking in the smell of his intoxicating cologne.

“You’re favorite, of course.” He spoke matter-of-factly. You beamed up at him, pearly whites on full display. “You truly are magnificent.”

“It was nothing, dear.” He insisted.

“Nothing my ass, it smells phenomenal in here. Pick up that apron.” You released your grip on his hair and shoulder and grabbed his hand, leading him to the kitchen. You were stopped short because once you entered the dining room, you saw a full romantic spread at the large table.

The chair at the end of the table and the chair to it’s right each had a steaming plate of chicken parmesan over spaghetti with meat sauce and a glass of red wine set out for it. He laid out the good napkins and silverware as well as a vase of flowers and lit candles to set the mood. You looked back at him with a raised, impressed eyebrow and a grin to match. You knew he would come through, but you were just expecting dinner.

“Someone’s trying to earn some brownie points, huh?” You allbut swooned, rubbing his chest sensuously.

Jin shook his head. “I just live to please you, dear.” He rebutted genuinely. You leaned up to give him another slow, lush kiss. “Good. Because I have plans for you.” You promised once you backed away. He hummed agreeably in reply and pulled out your chair before asking permission to put away his apron. “May I be excused to hang this up, dear?”

“Yes, kitten, but hurry back.” You sat down and placed your napkin in your lap, ready to dig in. Jin was back in no time and the two of you talked about your days over the lovely dinner that he cooked for you. “More wine.” You spoke suddenly and Jin knew you weren’t asking so he quickly got on his feet to retrieve it. “Yes, dear.” And with that he was off to the kitchen. After your second glass you were feeling tipsy, but you needed more than that to relieve your stress.

“Come, kitten.” You got up from the table and headed over to the couch in the living room. Jin watched you make yourself comfortable from afar, waiting to be given an order.

“Come rub my feet.” You called to him. He was on the couch in seconds flat, taking your foot carefully in his hands and massaging immediately. You were moaning in no time, tilting your head back to rest on the arm of the chair. “That feels so good, kitten.” You sighed, almost melting into the cushions.

You watched him work and admired how engaged he was with what he was doing. His genuine desire to please you turned you on even more than his cooking skills. “Touch me, kitten.” You spoke suddenly in a deep, jaded voice while making a come hither motion with your fingers in his direction.

He took his massage from your feet to your legs to your thighs and up the sides of your hips, kneading your body deliciously all throughout until he was fully nestled in between your thighs. His hands caressed your torso and travelled further north to give the same treatment to your breasts. He moved slowly and thoughtfully in case he did something you didn’t like or wanted to stop abruptly.

But no objections were heard and so he unbuttoned your replacement blouse and dragged your bra cups down. He tweaked and sucked on your nipples until you were moaning again, letting out some moans of his own to let you know he was enjoying himself just as much. The vibrations made you gasp deliciously. You grabbed his face swiftly and brought it to yours for a fierce kiss before imparting, “Now rub my clit.” against his lips.

He moves fast, as usual, removing your skirt and underwear before getting to work, still playing with your breasts with his free hand. He collected the juices that had been flowing from your opening since you laid eyes on him tonight and marvelled at the sight as if it was the first time he’d seen it.

“You feel how wet you make me, kitten?” You cooed, petting the back of his head.. “Yes, dear.” He panted, pressing three firm fingers to your clit and rubbing in a slow circular motion while making eye contact.

“Aawwww fuck, kitten. You make me feel so good. Always know just the right buttons to push on me, don’t you?” You whimpered proudly, devouring his plump lips once more. “Yes, dear.” He mumbled, loftily against your hungry mouth, rubbing your clit even harder at the praise he was given. You spasmed slightly, bucking your hips up into his hand. “Hngh, now I want you to use your mouth, kitten.”

Jin scooted back towards the other end of the couch, fondling your body lovingly on his way down. He finally came face to face with your core and ran his fingers chillingly down your thighs before he was pressing them down to your chest so that you were on full display for him. “Yeah, eat me like you mean it, everything you did to me, I want you to lick it all up like a good little kitten.” You panted, looking down at him with hungry eyes.

“With pleasure, my dear.” He purred deeply before taking your clit in between his lips and licking the bud of nerves all while making heavy eye contact. You let out a sharp hiss at the brilliant sensation. “Ohahoho, you motherfucker.” You chuckle breathily through clenched teeth, gripping Jin’s scalp again and giving a loving tug. “Looking up at me with those pretty eyes while you eat my pussy.”

Your crood words went straight to his dick and he let a small moan slip out of his mouth. The vibrations sent a shock of pleasure through you and forced you to hold his head as close to your sopping cunt as possible and rut against his mouth.

He was fully lapping at your juices now, mouth wide open for his tongue to stroke you clit sloppily and making a mess, just the way you liked it. His mouth and your lips glistened with your essence, you could literally feel it dripping down your asshole and onto the couch. “God, I love that fucking mouth!” You squeaked. “Eating that pussy like you fucking love it. Do you love it, kitten?”

He nodded immediately, getting his nose involved in the fun and hummed noisily against your clit in agreement. But you needed to hear it. “Tell me you love it.” You ordered sternly. “I leurve uet.” He professed sincerely into your pussy, staying focused on his task of making you cum. Lucky for both of you, you were almost there.

“Ugh, hhh-yes, kitten. Put your fingers in me, now.” You barked out another order, which Jin was happy to take and had no trouble shoving two fingers into your perfectly soaked cunt, curling them and railing them into you at the perfect speed to get you off.

“Hungh, fuck! Make me cum, kitten, come on!” You chanted up to the ceiling with your eyes clenched shut, focusing on that extraordinary release. He grunted desperately into your cunt, sending you into your first orgasm of the night.

You let out a silent cry as your body quaked with the pleasure only your fiance’s mouth could deliver. You rode out your high in a moaning, shaking mess beneath him, grinding your core into his face and on his fingers as you came down.

You gently grasp his cheeks and lift his head up to look at you. He admired your breathtakingly fucked out expression and smiled lovingly as you brought his face closer to yours for a sloppy, languid kiss. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips as your tongues swirled and explored each other's mouths and your lips smacked together lazily.

“God, you’re so fucking hot. My good little kitten.” You praised catching your breath, patting his wild hair down on the crown of his head. “Thank you, my goddess.” He whispered back, revelling in the adoration.

“Upstairs.” You gave him one final peck before you stood up from the couch. You begin your course to the staircase, when you have a better idea. You turn around to find Jin stopping in his tracks behind you with a slightly bewildered expression.

“On your knees, pet.” You directed sweetly. Jin got to the floor compliantly and assumed the position, looking up at you for further instruction. “Lead the way.” You gestured to the stairs and got out of his way, watching him walk casually up the stairs like a small child. You even got a great view of his ass from here, you thought pleasantly.

He entered your shared bedroom and stopped several feet in front of the bed. “You’re so good at waiting for direction, pet.” You commended him from behind, getting rid of the remainder of your offensive clothing. “Thank you, dear.” You drifted over to your nightstand to retrieve a sleep mask and covered his eyes with it. He swallowed thickly, wondering what you had planned for him now.

You crouched next to him and without a word, you delivered a hard smack to his clothed bottom. He jumped in surprise, but he didn’t make a sound. “And you’ve got such a great ass, too. I really lucked up didn’t I?” You chuckled quietly. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, dear.” He recited easily. “Good kitten.” You waited a long silent moment before gifting him another loud smack. “Thank you, dear.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, my goddess.” He vowed faithfully.

“And who else?” You drawled, groping his ass to your heart's content, because it was yours and no one could take it from you.

“Only you, my sweet goddess.” Another devoted promise fell from his lips bringing a smile to your face.

Your hand travels from his butt up his spine to his neck and into his hair. You give a lenient tug to the black strands before pressing your lips to his ear. “Do you love me, kitten?” You whispered melodiously, causing Jin to shiver. “With all my heart, my goddess.” You kiss the shell of his ear softly at the admission.

Your voice takes on a more weighted, lustful tone. “Are you hard for me?”

“I’m so hard for you, dear.” He answered, his breathing beginning to pick up now. “Oh, really? Let me see.” You reached over his side and found his crotch. He hissed when you ran your hands along the outline of his dick through his slacks and he was not lying. The feeling of it in your hand alone made you clench your thighs together to savor the throbbing between them. “I can’t wait to have this amazing dick inside of me.” You were fully groping him now, rubbing him through his pants and making his heart race faster.

“What do you wanna do to me, kitten?”

“I wanna make you cum, dear.” He moaned out roughly.

“That’s my good, boy. Now strip for me.” You waltzed over to the bed and made yourself comfortable to watch the show, spreading your legs and letting your hands drift to your clit to fully enjoy it.

He stood up in the same place, eyes still covered. He undid the buttons of his shirt slowly, unveiling a new section of creamy skin as he went and making your mouth water. You pressed down firmly on your clit that was still wet from previous activities and began moving your fingers in slow circular motions when Jin shrugged the button up off of his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He was entirely too sexy without even trying.

You got to watch his newly exposed muscles flex as he undid his belt and tossed that as well.

He unbuttoned the slacks and unzipped them in one motion and then stepped out of them, his full package on display with his boxer briefs not leaving much the imagination. You subconsciously rubbed at your clit faster, the lewd sound of your wetness becoming known to Jin.

“Take the underwear off.” You commanded a little harsher than you planned for. “Yes, dear.”

He quickly did as you requested so that you could now see his large cock standing at attention, his nearly purple cock head curving up to touch his stomach. “Walk forward.” You instructed, aware that he had no sight, but that he trusted you.

He walked in a straight line headed directly for you and once he was precisely in front of you, almost touching your knees that hung off the bed, you told him to stop. Your next order surprised Jin, but boy was he glad to hear it. “Touch yourself.”

“Yes, dear.” His hand jerked up to stroke his dick that was so close and beautiful that you were tempted to put it in your mouth, but you stopped yourself. You kept your eyes on his breathtaking body and watched him work himself over with his skillful hand, rubbing your clit rampantly at the sight. “I want you to cum for me, kitten. Can you do that for me?” You coaxed breathlessly.

He swiped at the head of his cock, collecting the precum before sliding his hand up and down the shaft again and faster this time. “Yesss, dear.” He breathed heavily. “You make me so fucking horny, I’m getting off at the sight of you stroking your cock.” He moaned at the thought, imagining it behind his eyelids.

You stopped rubbing your clit to insert two fingers into your sodden cunt and begin moving them in and out quickly, the sound of the two of you pleasuring yourselves filling the room. “You hear that, kitten?” Referring to the squelching noises produced by your actions.

“That’s what you do to me, mmm fuck, you’ve got me drenched and dripping onto the fucking bed.” You bit your lip, getting carried away with pleasure. “Ooooh, dear.” Your fiance moaned for you, his chest rising and falling heavily as he worked up a fine sweat on his brow.

You could feel your orgasm approaching as your arm gave up supporting you on the bed and you leaned back on your elbow. “Faster, kitten. I wanna, ungh, I wanna cum with you.” You gasped, giving up on holding yourself up entirely to play with your breasts and giving yourself over to absolute pleasure.

“Haah, y-yes, dear.” He stroked his cock even faster in hopes to catch up with you because lord knows what happens if he doesn’t. “Cum on me, kitten. Unnf-ha, I want you to milk that dick all over my pussy, I need it, pleaaassse.” You cried out, your back arching up to the heavens as you released all over your fingers blissfully.

“A-aahhh, aw, fuck!” Jin growled as he climaxed. You removed your fingers from yourself just in time because he did exactly as you asked and came long and hard, emptying his hot seed all over your already impossibly soaked cunt.

You shot up at the feeling of warm cum being sprinkled all over your nether region and couldn’t help, but giggle. “Take off the blindfold, kitten.” he did so as he caught his breath and finally got to take you in, somehow getting turned on again from looking over your fucked out form with his cum covering you. You looked him in the eyes as you gathered the cum on your lips and clit and inserted it into your pussy just to add to the fun. You liked things nice and sloppy, what could you say?

He watched you in awe, the visuals had his dick stirring to life one more. You raised your hand and curled your finger at him, signaling for him to come closer, although all he had to do was shuffle a few inches and bend down to be that much closer to you. You gripped his prominent jaw in your hand and laid a wet, potent kiss on his waiting lips, in which he gave one hundred percent.

“I knew you had spectacular aim, but I must say, this is a new feat, kitten.” You whispered proudly into his luscious mouth and he giggled into yours in response. “Thank you, dear.” He kissed along your cheeks and neck passionately. “But I believe you said a bad word, kitten.” Your suddenly stony tone caused him to freeze completely in his tracks.

“Didn’t you?” You demanded, wanting to hear it from him. “Yes, dear.” He whispered regretfully into your ear.

“And what is our rule on that, kitten?”

“The submissive must not utter any profanities during play time.” He recited from memory. You gripped his chin again and moved him back far enough to look you in the eyes. “So why did you just say it in my face?” You asked not letting go of him, feeling genuinely disrespected.

“You just made me feel so good, dear. When I ca-climaxed I only thought about making you feel good and I just couldn’t help myself, I’m so sorry, dear.” He stammered. You studied his face closely and found that your love was being earnest. “Thank you for your apology, kitten, I forgive you.” You pecked his lips and he smiled into the kiss. “But you need to be punished so we can make sure this kind of thing never happens again.” His smile falls, but it is replaced with a face of understanding. He nods in your hand and whispers, “Yes, dear.”

“Now, get your fine ass on this bed. On your back.” You barked and he moved quickly to position himself so as not to piss you off even further. You, on the other hand, moved back over to the night stand to retrieve the punishment. Jin’s face was only slightly concerned when you crawled on top of him and showed him the cock ring and lube.

“You’re going to wear this, I’m going to tie you to bed, and you’re going to let me use your dick to cum for as long as I want. Understood?” You deadpanned. He nodded instantly, eager to please you and get into your good graces again. “What was that?” You leaned in close with an ominous expression. “Y-yes, dear.” He stuttered out, nervously. “Don’t push your luck kitten.” You warned him.

He looked up at you with truly apologetic, wide eyes. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, dear.”

“It had better not...If it’s too much, you know the safe word.” You admonished and tossed him the items before going to tie his legs to the bed. He took his bottom lip in between his teeth and focused on fitting his dick and balls through the tight silicone ring. He laid back and spread his arms out wide so they were at your mercy and ready to be restrained. “That’s a good boy, kitten.” You praised, caressing his arms as you wrapped the rope around them snuggly and attached it to the bed.

You climbed on top of him again, taking his semi-hard dick and running it up and down your incredibly slick folds causing Jin to toss his head back into the pillows and sigh. “Gotta get you nice and hard again so we can have some fun, kitten.” You press his cock to your heat and begin grinding back and forth on it, covering it with your combined juices. You feel him start to harden beneath you already and you couldn’t wait any longer so you sat up on your knees and impaled yourself on his cock.

He grunted loudly when you sank down on his length, attempting to hold his head up to see how he disappeared inside you inch by inch. You shuddered out a moan when your pelvis fully met his, you could feel your combined juices dripping down to coat his cock even further.

“Mmmh, my God, that dick is perfect, kitten. And it’s all mine.” You gasped as your hips moved up and down on his cock. “All yours, my goddess.” He keened in agreement, his arms flexing against the pull of the ropes and his tight stomach muscles tensing deliciously beneath you.

You lean forward to rest your hands on his chest while you bounce up and down at a new delectable pace, your ass slapping down on him to create loud, wet, vulgar noises in the large bedroom. He nudges that spot against your walls that had you seeing stars and your jaw drops, but no sound is released, just hot air wafting down to sweep across Jin’s face and vice versa. He looked up at you like you hung the moon in the sky and his dick in that delicious pussy of course. In his eyes you were perfect and he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

Of course he had you near climax within three minutes of being inside you, that’s why you saved the best for last and had no intention of stopping any time soon. “Talk to me, kitten.” You spoke breathlessly, your hand reaching up to grip his throat in the perfect way that made his dick twitch inside of you, but still allowed him to speak.

“I love you, dear.” He blurted as if it was the only thing on his mind and had been dying to let it out. “I love everything about you-nnhg! How good you are to me, how sexy you are,” You stared deeply into his loving, fucked out eyes as you rode him like a woman possessed, chasing your high that was so close. “Tell me you want my cum.” You ordered through clenched teeth. “I want your cum, goddess, I want all of it gushing out for me.” He returned genuinely causing you to clench around him.

He continued, revelling in how you constricted him inside of you as you neared your climax. “I love how tight you are, the face you make when you orgasm around me, ugh-sss, how you take my cock so well, your flawless ass, I wanna touch you so bad-gnghnaaaaa!” He quivered as you suddenly came, silently creaming all over his cock. You spasmed and rode your high all the way to the end with your eyes rolling into the back of your head while Jin marvelled at you from below.

“Haahh, fuck.” You exhaled deeply before gathering yourself. When you finally managed to sit up again your hand came down to deliver a hard slap to Jin’s cheek, his surprised face turning to the side from the force. “Kitten, what is it with you and these curse words today?” You prompted, releasing Jin’s still hard dick from you and travelling to the dresser opposite the bed.

Jin sucked his teeth and clenched his eyes shut with regret. “I’m sorry, dear-”

“Yeah I'm sure.” You mocked, opening the drawer and pulling out a pair of lace panties. You climbed onto Jin once again, taking him inside of you wordlessly. The obscenely wet sound of his cum coated dick re-entering you made the both of you incredibly horny. “Do I need to gag you? So you can shut up and take this pussy?” You offered with a strong grind of your hips on his. “Ahh, yes, dear. I deserve it.” He panted.

You stuffed the panties into his mouth roughly and you could have swore you felt his dick twitch inside of you at the action. “Such a naughty boy.” You teased, rocking back and forth with his cock nestled so deep inside of you. He mumbled something through the gag and you just laughed maniacally.

“Ahaha, that’s right, kitten. Shut up and take this pussy.” You growled, bouncing up and down on his amazing cock. “Unnnffuck, I want you to split me wide open on that dick, kitten.” Jin just nods enthusiastically, his chest rising and falling frantically. “Is that what you want, kitten? You want me to keep fucking this cock til I cum all over you, again?” You whined, never taking your eyes off of him. He moaned loudly and nodded quickly.

“Mmmm, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum for you so hard, kitten!” You cried as you felt the familiar flame in the pit of your belly ready to explode. In the next second, you were shouting expletives and convulsing vigorously as your orgasm crashed through you. “Homygod, homygod, homygod,” You chanted, grinding your pussy down onto your finance’s public bone mercilessly. You bent down to grip his face and remove the gag before kissing him senseless. “You fuck me so good, kitten.” You mumbled into his perfect mouth earnestly before gripping his throat with a growl. “Now, make me cum again.”

For the next twenty minutes, you continued to ride Jin non-stop, cumming around him, kissing him, slapping him or twisting his nipples when he got out of line, choking him occasionally and watching his eyes get a shade darker each time. He enjoyed this just as much as you did and you both enjoyed the slick and sloppy noise of his cock being repeatedly stuffed inside you. The white, runny substance coated both of your genitals and thighs, sticking to your sweaty bodies and even creating a sizable stain below you.

You looked down at your pet to witness a tear fall out of the corner of his eye, but his expression was still full of lust for you. “Oh, kitten.” You sucked your teeth and cooed at him. “Do you wanna cum?” You spoke breathily, never wavering on his cock. “Yes please, dear.” He nodded desperately at the offer and tugged on the restraints instinctively.

“Okay, kitten. I’ll make you feel good, but only because you made me cum so many times tonight.” You squeeze him with your walls one last time making him wince before you were separating yourself from him. You walked on wobbly legs to where his wrists were attached to the bed and undid the binds and each side. Your face scrunched up in annoyance at the sight of all your hard work being worked off as Jin removed the cock ring and just placed it on the already ruined sheets.

He looked at you expectantly with hopeful eyes as you walked around the bed and climbed up directly in front of him. You took hold of his angry looking cock gently, not wanting him to bust just yet, and took the slick from your wrecked pussy and coated his length with it once more.

“Much better.” You whispered before placing your mouth on his cock and stroking generously. Jin’s body tensed strongly as he let out a wicked groan. The feeling of being free from the cock ring and your heavenly mouth had him on the very edge. “Ahh-sss. T-thank you, dear.” He uttered, placing a hand on your head and gently running it through your hair.

“Anything for my pet. I want your cum in my mouth, kitten. Make me choke on it.” You purred, listlessly, taking him all the way to the back of your throat. “Ha-aahhh! Yes, dear!” He yelped, cumming almost instantly, emptying himself feverishly into your throat. “Nnhga! Yes, yes, yes, yes, dearrrrr.” He groaned loudly when you swallowed around him, making sure you got every bit of his seed in your mouth.

You bobbed your head lazily on his cock even after he was spent, body limp on the sheets just about down from his climax. You crawled back in between his strong legs to cover his body with yours and capture his lips in an adamant, love-filled kiss. He returned the kiss lethargically and wrapped his arms around you. “You’re so good to me, baby. I love you.” You pecked his lips one last time.

He opened his eyes wearily at the new pet name in realization. “I love you too, Y/N. I can’t wait to marry you.” He muttered honestly, looking up at you with so much adoration in his eyes. You beamed back at him. “You stop that right now, Mr., or I’m gonna have to suck your dick again.” You threatened playfully. You both laughed heartily and got ready for bed, knowing you were going to be sleeping next to the person who accepts you and will love you no matter what.

#jin smut #btssmut #hoseokmylovesworld #bts jin #bts smut #bts #bts fanfction #jin fanfic

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buildmeafairytale · 4 years

Text

Female Reader x Female Harpy

Just finished up this request for @featherynutcase for a harpy soulmate AU. Hope you guys like it!

The Rushing Isles had come by the name quite honestly - a thought you often had when trying to make your way through the docks. Taking a shortcut through the markets always seemed like a good idea, but yet here you are, trying to convince the old women of the port city that you do not need to be set up with their nephews from the neighboring isles.

Truthfully, the idea of their nephews had become a bit less repulsive with time. Most of the people you’ve grown up with have seen their soulmate’s footprints, shining like a prism and beckoning them to their other halves long ago. You have not been so lucky. You’ve seen prints, shining and glowing like all the stories say, but you wouldn’t exactly call them feet. Claws would be a much better description. That never deterred you, and on the rare occasions that you saw the prints you would follow them, only to be disappointed when they would abruptly end.

“I wonder how appalled the old women would be if I asked if they had any handsome nieces who were single, instead?” you mumble under your breath.

You dodge your way out of the crowd and make your way down the sand worn steps that bring you closer to the beach partially hidden by tall rock structures. This has always been one of your favorite hide-aways; whether you were brushed aside by other children for being more plump, or being relentlessly questioned by your family about your apparent lack of a soulmate, this spot is always a comfort. You had brought a bag full of snacks and other things to keep you occupied, and were fully prepared to spend the better part of the day on the beach.

That was the plan,at least, until you saw the claw marks in the sand.

The same thing happens every time you manage to catch a glimpse of the claw prints.

Your heart starts racing, your palms get sweaty, and no matter how many times you have been disappointed, (this time would make thirty-two attempts at following the marks, but who’s counting) you are unable to stop yourself from thinking ‘this is it, I will finally get to meet them’.

You follow the prints, your fast walk slowly building into the crescendo of a sprint, your white dress flowing behind you. You round the corner of a boulder and are at the face of a shallow cave with the waves lapping at the mouth of it. The prints had not stopped yet, and you had your head down, concentrating on them. So concentrated on the luminous prints, in fact, that you almost ran right into the one who made them. Had it not been for their shocked gasp and the shuffling noise they made, you would have collided with them. You looked up, and your deep brown eyes met their shining amber ones. Your feet were rooted to the spot, and your mouth opened and closed a few times, no sound escaping you.

She was gorgeous, ethereal, otherworldly. You could know every word in your language and then some and still not be able to express how beautiful you found her. She was a harpy, you had grown up hearing stories of the winged creatures that lived on the highest peaks of the island, making their homes above the clouds. None had ever expressed how lovely they were with their brown wings and feathers lining parts of their body. You see their claws, the claws that had left the prints leading you to them. They were sharp and deadly, but delicate in their danger. Around her claws, the prismatic light that signified one's soulmate was concentrated.

The silence was broken by a pained squawk emitted from your soulmate. Her wings flapping as she shuffled back, putting more distance between the two of you. She heaved out a sob, and started to wail.

“No! No, no this wasn’t supposed to happen, you weren’t supposed to see me! Oh my winds, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Leave, and forget you ever saw me here Nuccia!” She refused to look at you, and you started forward as if to offer her comfort.

“What do you mean I wasn’t-how do you know my name?” You asked her, suddenly shocked. “You knew! You had seen me before and knew? And you didn’t think to introduce yourself? I have looked for you for so long, and you knew this and continued to be purposefully elusive to me?” You could not, try as you might, keep the anger out of your voice. She was obviously distressed, but now so were you. Tears of hurt and anger filled your eyes. Your whole life you have been too much for so many people, have felt out of place and unwanted. You were too plump, or too dark, or too opinionated. Now here you were, in front of the one being on this planet that you were made to love and be loved by, and she didn’t want you.

Her eyes widened and she whimpered, her flustered form looking for an escape the cave denied to her. You grew determined, and placed yourself even more in front of the entrance. Fine, she didn’t want you. But that didn’t mean you were going to leave without some answers, she owed you that much, soulmate or not. Your hands came to rest on your hips, and you measured at her.

“Well, go on then. If you’re going to reject me or tell me how you never wanted me, go ahead. An explanation on why you haven’t earlier also seems warranted, hmm?” You ask, trying to convey an attitude of indifference you didn’t particularly have.

The harpy looked horrified at this, scrambling even more. Sounds left her that had you wanting to cover your ears, horrible squawks that had no business coming from the one you wished to hold. She folded in on herself, her winged arms coming to shield the majority of her face and upper body from you. This pulled at your heartstrings, and a bit of your resolve crumbled away. You were torn between approaching her or letting her calm herself; while you were trying to decide a course of action, she pulled her winds away and managed to draw in a deep, shuddering breath. Her words spilled out quickly, as if she could not bear to keep them contained any longer.

“I wasn’t going to reject you, I wanted to avoid you rejecting me. I wanted to be human before I introduced myself. This is all wrong! It wasn’t supposed to be this way!” Her voice cracked, volume rising again.

“You wanted to be human? Why on earth would you do that?” You could not keep the confusion out of your voice.

“You’re human and I’m a giant bird! You’re so lovely and I just wanted you to like me. I was supposed to meet a witch to help me change, but they said it’s a lost cause and I’ll never be human. I was here moping when you found me.” Her gaze was cast down, claws tracing shapes in the sand.

You walked over to her, holding her face in your hands.

“You are my soulmate,” you said, vehemently, “You are you for a reason, and you, like this, are the other half of me. Don’t you dare think you have to change to be worthy of me.” Your hands come to rest at your sides, and you take a step back. You try not to let her awed expression distract you from what you have to say. “I have been trying so hard to find you, and every single time I saw your prints abruptly end, I felt less and less worthy. I felt as though the universe was playing a trick on me. But instead, you were hiding. It is a relief knowing that it wasn’t because you didn’t want me, though. I can only be so upset at you for this, now that I am finally in your presence.” You let her process her thoughts, seeing that she is still shocked and anxious by this turn of events. A part of you wanted to comfort her, assure her that she is the most beautiful creature you had ever seen, while another part of you wanted her to comfort you, instead; to take you in her arms and tell you that she was mistaken for hiding from you, that she would never reject you.

“You aren’t...afraid of me, Nuccia?” She softly inquired, peeking up from her feathered lashes.

“That's all you got from all that? Why on earth would I be afraid of the most beautiful person I’ve ever had the privilege of laying my eyes on? And again, you call me by name but have not yet graced me with yours.” You reply to her, equally amused and exasperated with her.

“Oh-I’m sorry, dear one. My name Enora. You think I’m beautiful?” She whispers, a taloned hand coming up to caress your cheeks.

“As dramatic as you are beautiful, it looks like. My, my, it looks like I’ll have my hands full, good thing I have two,” you tease, gazing up at her, suddenly giddy with affection. You might have still been upset with her, and you will have to

talk it out with her later, but you aren’t going to let that sully your first real meeting.

You manage to calm her a bit, and knock her out of the stupor she seems to be in. You enjoy how red her face and chest get while you flirt with her, the effect you have going to your head.

“It seems I picked the perfect day for a beach day then,” you say, showing her the picnic basket you had dropped upon seeing her. You pull out the small finger foods and wine you had brought, setting up a beach blanket by the mouth of the cave. Maybe she would stay, and you could drink wine and watch the sunset together. Your heart beat faster at this thought, already allowing these romantic notions to float about in your head. You settle onto the blanket, hoping she would sit with you and not fly off now that you aren’t blocking the exit.

What is likely only a minute feels like an eternity, but Enora settles next to you, her spine rigid and legs crossed. You offer her some food, many things she admits she has not tried before. You watch her try the new things that you provided, and something about taking care of her in this way feels very right. Her feathers brush against you, tickling your skin. The two of you spend the day getting to know each other better. She stays for the sunset, much to your delight. You felt clingy, and did not want to part ways with her. But, the sun was going down and you figured it was time to get back home, and Enora was getting antsy, informing you her family would start looking for her.

“Will you...come back?” she asks, her eyes wide, and a clawed finger gliding down your arm. Now that she has winded down and started to understand you want her, she has been flirting, her own version of being coy. You were soaking up the attention, and she continued. “I would very much like to see you again, dear one. I have a lot of making up to do, after all.” Her claw comes to your chin, turning your face to hers.

“You’re done running from me then?” You tease her, inching your face closer to her’s.

“Yes dear one, I swear it,” her breath is ghosting across your lips, and all you can hear is blood rushing in your ears. Your hand comes up to the back of her neck, and you close the gap, gently brushing your lips against hers. A sweet trilling noise escapes her, and you smile into it. All too soon it ends, and you agree to keep meeting in the same spot.

You show up the next day and head into the cave. You peek around the corner, and you see Enora, pacing. That is not all you see; there are blankets and pillows arranged like a nest, flowers, and a bottle of wine set out.The nest is near the mouth of the cave, the perfect spot to be sheltered from any winds but a good view of the ocean and coming sunset. She still hasn’t spotted you, and she heads towards the nest, fluffing and rearranging the blankets to her liking. You come up behind her, and trace your fingertips down her spine, greeting her with an airy “Hello” as she jumps. She smiles at you, her spine straightening and her hands clasped behind her back. She greets you and clears her throat, looking nervously from you to the nest.

“You surprised me dear one, I was not expecting you quite yet. I hope this does not seem too forward, but nest making is a large step in harpy courting and something I wished to do for you.” She announced this so nervously, but if it was a large step for her you could see why. You assure her it looks beautiful, and you can’t wait to try it. You see her blush, and you decide to keep laying on the compliments, running your hands over the blankets and telling her how good of a job she has done. The more you go on, the redder her face seems to become, much to your delight. When you slip your sandals off and crawl into the nest, the same awe struck look takes over her face from the day prior. She follows you in, and brings your hand to her face.

“You have no idea what seeing you in here does to me, do you?” She asks, and you run your fingertips over her lips, fascinated at the way her breath catches when you do this.

“I think I could guess. It’s probably similar to my feeling knowing you went to all this trouble for me.” You reply to her, once again feeling trapped in her eyes. The two of you share another kiss, the trills and sweet noises leaving her only encouraging you. Her claws ghost across your neck and send a chill down your spine. She leans you back into the nest, wings opening above you and closing you in. She is trembling above you, and you can see tears in her eyes when you part.

“No sweetheart, none of that now. What’s wrong?” you ask her, heart clenching.

“I was a fool, I waited so long for nothing, and we could have been here years ago!” she sniffles, angry at herself and her actions.

“Hush darling, we’re here now aren’t we?” You coo at her, running your hands through her hair. You have known her for such a short time, yet she already holds your heart in her hands. One of your legs comes up around her waist, pulling her close again. Enora quickly gets lost in your kisses again, and you feel some of her stress melt away under your hands.

This goes on, the two of you sharing stolen moments together and heated kisses in the cave. You both incorporate some of your own courting customs, so far your favorite of which is when she does an aerial dance for you. She tells you that harpies usually do it together, but she happily tweaked it and you were impressed all the same. The next day you showed her a popular island dance, and you swayed together to the sound of the waves outside.

One day you are on your way to the cave, dinner in tow, when you spot not one, but two harpies on the beach near the mouth of your cave. Neither of them are your harpy, however, and you grow anxious hoping Enora is alright. She did not speak of how other harpies would feel about her soulmate being human, but you were hoping you weren’t about to run into trouble. You get closer and the harpies spot you, both taking off and quickly landing in front of you. They circle you and you feel like prey, one behind you and one in front. They are both larger than Enora, and male. If you had to guess you would say they are twins, but you are hardly able to concentrate on their looks. No matter what species you are, having two large men circling you is nerve inducing.

“So you’re our little Ennies’s mate, huh?” The first asks, his voice deep.

“You aren’t very tall, she must have her hands full protecting you.” The second observes, making his way around you.

“She’s been coming home all starry eyed and happy, haven’t seen that in her in years.” One tuts at you, and you feel pride swell in your chest amidst the confusion.

“We had to come follow her, find out where our little sister was sneakin’ off to so much.” The other interjects.

You’re overwhelmed, but relief floods through you. These are Enora’s brothers, and you doubt they would do anything to you. You’re just getting a very intense shovel talk, it seems. You start to interject yourself into the talking, going to introduce yourself, when an outraged squawk fills the air and Enora and another smaller harpy land.

“What on earth are you doing? You used Glaucus to distract me to come here and try to intimidate her! And I’m not your baby sister, I’m five years older than you two!” She reprimands them, walking up to them both and grabbing them by the ears. “Now, go home to mother before she starts to worry where you went. And do not follow me here again!”

“Aw Ennie, but you’re smaller than us so you’re our little sister.” The twin pouts on their faces at being reprimanded are adorable, and now you can see it. You stifle a giggle, and spot the youngest harpy, Glaucus, looking ashamed.

“Yeah, just wanted to make sure she’s good enough for our little sister,” the other twin echos, being pulled down to her level by the ear. She walks them away from you, and you hear them yell that it was nice to meet you. You return the sentiment, a smile on your face, and wave to them as they leave. Glaucus takes off before Enora comes back, shouting a goodbye.

She walks back to you, her eyes aflame. She grabs your hands, and starts to apologize. “I’m so sorry dear one, they can be quite intense. Are you alright? I’m so embarrassed.” You giggle, and assure her that you’re fine.

“They’re just looking out for you, I’m not mad. I was a bit intimidated at first but they seem nice! Don’t be too harsh on them, love.” You kiss her cheek, and pull her into your nest, and Enora abruptly stops grumbling about her brothers. She looks at you, her eyes wide and lips parted.

“Do you? Love me, I mean.” She asks, whispering. Your face gets red and you realize what you’ve said. It’s true though, you love her.

“Yes, I do.” You whisper back, throat tight with emotion.

“I love you too Nuccia. I have for so long, you amazing creature.” She pulls you onto her lap, your thighs bracketing her underneath you. You have never felt so at home as you do in the arms of your soulmate.

#monsterlover #monstergirlfriend #female reader x female monster #harpy girlfriend

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