#MOTHERS HIDE YOUR JEWELLERY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaegerbby · 8 months

Text

➳ my soul searches

--͙[naoya zenin x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 6512

╰┈➤ rundown; you might be ignorant about anything concerning naoya zenin but somehow he knows everything about you.

╰┈➤ caution; mean! naoya, DUBIOUS CONSENT, virginity loss (mentions of blood), dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, no prep, choking, use of the words slut, whore, bitch (degradation), MISOGYNISTIC ideologies mentioned, manhandling, 1 thigh smack, cum eating, cunnilingus, fellatio (head pushing & rough), belly bulge, throat bulge, size kink, mentions of fingering, hair is referred to as 'cascading' on one occasion. sex on a futon (just so it won't be confusing).

if there are any more warnings i should add please let me know. not proof read!

naoya is awful.

he is a horrible man.

everyone knows it.

whether it be due to the countless stories everyone gossips about or witnessing firsthand the vicious things he does.

you were privy to outrageous hearsay spreading but you did not care enough to understand.

as far as you know, he is a powerful man.

and in your clan, you bow down to powerful men.

you have been fed lies that you do not have much to offer.

women were responsible for wifely duties and child bearing.

it is all you learned your entire life.

you are surprised when there is news of a member of the zenin clan's impending visitation. the people within your district make countless preparations and take any precaution necessary to ensure they meet naoya's standard. the last thing they want is to face his acrimony.

there are rumours of a potential alliance and it seems exceedingly promising to be closely associated with such a powerful family.

the day of his arrival, everything looks auspicious. you are shocked at the innumerable women adorned in luxurious clothing and decked in lavish jewellery.

you certainly do not understand all the fuss about him. you swore everyone hated him.

the welcome is extravagant and curiosity gets the best of you because you find yourself tip toeing to catch sight of him.

he is definitely not what you expected. he is young, his expression is all too smug. you never had the opportunity to see him before but he is gorgeous. in every sense of the word.

he is the definition of it.

sharp narrow eyes were lined, push pink lips with a barely visible cupid's bow and a straight nose although the tip was slightly upturned. his brows were thin and straight. if anyone looked for long enough and he smiled you could see the indents of dimples. he was truly pretty.

naoya tells the head of your clan that an alliance will only be formed provided he receives something. that whatever he wishes must be granted to him for congruity in return.

somehow, someway he pinpoints you in a crowd of too many people.

you were astonished when his stony eyes found yours. you try to tell yourself, you are not the one. it must be someone else. it has to be! you are proven wrong when your mother grips your arm and drags you up to him.

she bows, her hand roughly shoving your head down while you fidget. his stare is heavy, it makes you want to hide away. your parents practically offer you to him on a silver platter.

your eyes look everywhere but at him while he requests a room. unabashedly he speaks for everyone to witness.

his fingers find your chin, tipping your head back to look over your face. he towers over you. "dress her up." his voice is raspy and deep. he speaks to your mother though he does not spare her a glance.

you are speechless, you can only imagine what it means. an uncontrollable amount of thoughts pile into your head as your mother takes you away.

virginity means everything to a young girl like you. you need to be one to get married. it is your clan's way of life so why do your parents not care? your mother dresses you in the finest silk, something they could never afford before. she knots your hair in a bun and it hurts when she pulls at the strands.

decorative pins are stuck into your hair, some nicking your scalp. she drapes a heavy chain around your neck and squeezes your hand as she forces bracelets onto your wrists.

you look just like every other woman that dolled up for naoya zenin in anticipation of his attention.

you realise your parents do not care for your dignity as they usher you into an intricately decorated room.

they crave the validation of everyone else more than they care about you. you always knew that but you never thought they would go to this extent.

"be good and listen to everything he says." your mom commands. she shoves you to your knees on the thick layers of satin.

"this is for everyone's betterment." your father adds like it would make any of this right. you have no choice in the matter.

they were giving you up for naoya to do whatever he pleased because they were greedy for admiration.

you worry what it meant for you afterwards. you worry what people would think once you left these four walls.

the door slams shut upon their exit, you nervously shift. you wonder if you could run away. the weight of the jewellery feels uncomfortable, the clothes are so thick you swear you are sweating. they seem impossible to do anything in.

it feels like an eternity when naoya enters. his broad back faces you as he closes the door. his presence is intimidating, his aura is immense.

you swallow hard.

you are only to speak when spoken to.

yet you want to ask what took him so long.

why did you chose me?

what are you going to do to me?

you cannot question him. that is not your place.

you are sitting, hands anxiously twitching where they rest on your thighs. your eyes drop to the floor as he faces you.

he draws closer, your breathing stops as he circles you. he does it slowly, intently like he wants to memorise you from every angle.

you feel like prey, you are awaiting your predator to strike. there is absolutely no escape. his gaze sears into your being.

in a way he is scary. "strip." his deep voice instructs. your body tenses, breathing more laboured. you are unmoving as he steps closer. he cups your head, it is softer than you expected. he tilts you back to look at him, you are made aware of his bulge right in front of your face.

it is when he grips your hair, disheveling your bun that you realise it is all pretence. you shriek as he forcefully lifts you to your knees. the way you reach for his hand is futile because you cannot stop him no matter how hard you try.

"don't make me speak twice, y/n." you wonder how he knew your name. you were no one. you were not anyone important to this clan or world. "now take your fucking clothes off before i do it myself."

he shoves you back, you just barely brace yourself. his nimble fingers reach for the laces on his robe as he undoes them with ease. tears prick your eyes, you shakily tug at your bracelets. your movements are frantic enough to send them scattered across the floor. you rip the necklace from your throat, it stings where it nicks your skin.

your hands endlessly tremble when you pull off the layers of heavy fabric draped on you. you are too busy removing your clothing to see that he is already bare.

once you are rid of anything that preserves your modesty, you fold your arms to hide your body. a man has never seen you like this and you never thought the first time would be under this circumstance.

naoya's eyes trail over you, he is already hard. it is borderline painful. he was hard from simply thinking about you obediently waiting for him.

you feel his presence behind you, he lowers himself to his knees. his hands reach for your shoulders first. they are large and rough, they elicit goosebumps across your skin as he trails them down to caress your arms.

he pulls you into him, the hardness of his chest meeting your back. his arms surround your body and you tense at the feeling of his heated cock brushing your skin. his dexterous fingers remove the pins from your hair, he undoes the bun to allow the strands to cascade down your back. he brushes it over your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your nape.

you are shocked by the softness of them. he trails more kisses down the upper part of your spine. it is mind muddling.

"i can tell you haven't fucked before." you jolt at the sound of his gruff voice. his warm breath meets your skin and you shiver. his forearm comes around your front to keep you flush against him.

"spread your legs, let me see your cunt." he speaks without any shame. you hesitate and his displeasure is evident because his palm connects with the flesh of your thigh so hard that you shriek. your skin stings.

you have no choice but to open your legs for him. he slips his hands between them, his wide palm cupping your cunt.

you cannot breathe. it is all so overwhelming. you notice the evident veins on his lower arm as his hand covers your sex completely. it dawns on you that you have never had this intimacy before. you have never even touched where he would be.

he clicks his tongue, his presence makes you anxious. everything he does makes you tense.

he grimaces, you are not wet. not in the slightest.

naoya removes his hand to spit into his fingers, the fluid is pressed to your clit as he strokes it. he does not like the way you bite down on your lip to muffle your sounds. he hates it.

he rolls the bundle of nerves, pinching it before he slowly trails his fingers down your slit. the tip of his finger prods your entrance, gliding along it though he does not enter.

your smaller hands grip his forearm and for some reason it makes him hug your body tighter.

you breathe shakily in anticipation of his next move. it is a foreign feeling to be caressed but you can hardly complain. it is the furthest thing from unpleasant. it annoys you how good it feels.

"i'm shoving my cock in here." he huffs. the length of his finger coaxing through your lips has you writhing.

"going to stick my dick in this little hole and make you my bitch." his words are vulgar. the obscenity of his remarks have you furrowing your brows.

"it sounds good, right? having your pussy filled to the brim. i'll even fuck my cum into you." his jaw presses into your temple and you unsurely blink. he is so big, you feel like you are tucked into him.

he pinches your clit and you choose to focus on that rather than what he is saying. it feels good, enough to make you squirm. each time he does it, your cunt leaks with liquid. his entire palm strokes up and down, smearing sticky liquid over your cunt.

"naoya." you mewl. he has you spread open on his lap as he strokes your dripping pussy. he knows one thing for certain, your pretty voice forming his name is the greatest thing he has ever heard. he loves the sounds you make because of him.

you are so wet now, you are drenched and leaking. the sticky liquid trails out of your slit endlessly. his fingers steadily collect it and your lips part when he pulls away. your eyes follow his hand as he brings the sodden liquid digits near his mouth.

it is dirty. it is gross, it must be. somehow, you find yourself entranced. his tongue slips out to lave over his drenched palm.

"so fucking messy." he grits his teeth, he tilts his head to you. his wet hand grips your jaw, "you always taste so good." he presses his mouths to yours.

you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he aggressively kisses you. despite your inexperience you try to replicate him.

his expression looks irritated as he wetly separates from you. he forces you onto your back, leaning over you. his eyes glimpse at your cunt and they trail up your body.

you are on display for his prying eyes. he gropes your breasts, kissing and licking down your sternum. you are delirious as he sucks on your skin. he kisses all the way up to your jaw before he covers your mouth with his.

he licks into your mouth until you are a breathless mess.

"i'm not prepping you. m'not." he squeezes your jaw. "the first thing i'm stuffing in your pussy is my cock and it's gonna hurt. it'll hurt a lot but you deserve it." he airily speaks, his eyes dark.

you stare in confusion, panic sets in your chest. what wrong did you do? you wonder what warranted having your virginity stripped with no compassion.

you were more than aware he did not care for you.

as far as you know, you are suppose to pride yourself in your virginity. you were to save it for your husband and no one else. the man between your legs is a stranger, the man telling you such nasty things is nothing to you.

you swallow hard as you stare at his intimidating size. the head of his cock is purplish and dripping pre cum. his shaft is thick and it seems to go on forever. you wonder how it is suppose to fit inside you.

naoya grasps his aching cock to tap the head on your clit. you try to move away, you really do but he is so strong. he is completely unmoving. he coats his tip in your slick before pressing into your hole.

despite how tight you are, despite how big and thick he is. you shove at his abdomen, his abs flexing under your palms. "naoya please." tears stream down your cheeks but he relents. he cups your thighs to bring them over his and spread you open.

his rough fingers find your perked clit, rubbing it in aggressive circles. you hate to admit it but it feels too good. your hands clamp down on your mouth to mute the moans escaping you.

you gush on him with no fanfare. this entire circumstance makes you feel like an easy slut. he presses more into you, reaching the ridge where his cock and shaft meet. your legs jolt the further his girth fills you.

your insides squeeze and clamp down trying to deny his intrusion, you make naoya crazy. "fucking stop." he hisses. you are like a vice around his pulsing cock.

he says what you should be saying. you should be telling him to stop but you do not. you should be screaming and crying, telling him to get off of you but that is the last thing in your head.

it feels good. more of him is pressed into you and your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. it is an unfamiliar feeling but the pressure in your abdomen is more pleasurable than painful. you find yourself adjusting, you are still so tight that naoya loses his mind.

he presses down on your clit an inch accompanying the motion and you shriek at the feeling. he continually rocks his hips, slowly coaxing over your bundle of nerves. your hands find purchase in the sheets, panting while you try to gather your bearings.

the stimulation has you fidgeting, it has you moaning his name endlessly. your thighs tremble on either side of him and your expression is contorted at the feeling. he looks down at your body, tongue slipping out to coat his lips and you find yourself wishing it was in your mouth, on your skin. anywhere you wanted him.

he leans down, his muscles rippling and the flesh along his abs bunching in little rolls, his biceps are almost as big as your head. you feel like he was strong enough to lift you with one finger. he seemed that way, strong and mighty in all that he did.

his hips shallowly move to thrust the portion of his length he has managed to shove into you. "you're fucking me." you stutter, your voice barely audible. you have never spoken those words, have never even conjured them up.

naoya's eyes flash, his large hand spanning over your stomach, trailing between your breasts and then gripping your throat. "m'not. but i can, i can fuck you so deep you feel it here." he squeezes the sides of your neck, eyes glancing to your leaking cunt that soaks him even though he has not gotten to the hilt.

the warmth and tightness of you makes him ache to have his entire cock deep in your pussy but you are little and you are looking at him with the sweetest eyes.

he wants to hurt you, he wants to make you cry but you are so adorable. "i can fuck you and have your belly bulging every. single. time. i shove my cock in your dripping cunt."

you have never had someone speak to you like that. you never heard those words strung together nor spoken in such a depraved tone.

you wonder how he could be this handsome. you wonder what led him here, with you.

"i'll make this pussy mine whether you want it or not but you want it, don't you? you want me to fuck you, you want me to have you shaped to my cock and mine alone" he pants. you nod your head, you swear there is cotton between your ears, there is empty space perhaps but there is surely not a working brain.

not after he painted such an image of him fucking you like you were his and turned it to mush. "say it. say it all, say you want naoya zenin to fuck you." you whine, he squeezes your throat, his grip so strong you swore he could crush it to dust.

you whine and babble and your hips move to get more of the stimulation as he shallowly fucks you. your hands find his broad shoulders, just barely gripping them and he leans down. no you could never move someone like him, he let you. he conceded because it is you.

his face is so close, he is composed and collected while you are a mess beneath him. "i want naoya zenin to fuck me" your voice is broken by a moan as he forces more of himself into you.

you whine in his face "i want him to claim me, break me. i only want him in my cunt." your voice is a warbled mess and for some reason naoya did not expect you to be so nasty. to tell him those things. claiming you is one thing but breaking you?

he would do more than break you. he would wreck every inch of you, destroy and decimate it all, there would be no way to return you to what you were.

"then loosen up, slut." you cannot mute the scream that escapes you when the thickness of his girth is pushed entirely into your walls. your legs desperately hook on his hips, so tense they feel sore.

it burns, it hurts and stings but it feels unbelievably good, it did not feel like something you could fathom in a real world only in fantasy.

why, why, why? why does it feel so good? you had no expectations of sex. absolutely none.

when the women spoke they did not entertain such topics. was this what they did behind closed doors? did such depravity remain hidden while they portrayed themselves as saints?

he is so hot, you feel him everywhere. he is nestled inside you like he belongs there, he throbs into your gummy walls.

his large palm graces your tummy, gliding to your lower abdomen. he presses down and you sigh in unison. your eyes wildly look down. "look where my cock is in you, you really are too small to take it."

he is not your husband, he should not have stuffed his cock all the way inside you that his head impresses in your stomach. what right did he have to lay claim?

it does not matter, not anymore. he has your cunt wrapped around him and your body does not protest. no, your body welcomes him with endless slick. it yearns and begs for him. it felt like you were just waiting for him to come and take you.

he pulls out until only his leaking head is enclosed by your cunt. his expression is pleased at the sight of red streaks along him. "got your blood all over my cock. y'know what that means?"

your head is too empty to hear, to function. you cannot quite make out his words but the sound of his voice makes you mewl. you are soaking him again and again.

"means you're all mine." you eyes roll as he shallowly pumps into you. you swear you cannot see beyond him.

his hands grope the perimeter of your waist. "i haven't even fucked you yet and you already look like a brain dead whore." he coos but his eyes are dark.

he is caught up in the sight of your dripping slit stretched around the girth of his cock. his strong thighs flex, you shriek when he starts pounding into you.

naoya bullies his cock into your pussy that will not stop pulsing around him. you are so tight he sees stars. your insides are gooey and warm. he wants to be wrapped in you forever.

his abs strain, his cock is coated in your juices. slick strands are covering him. the more he slams into you the nastier sounds your pussy makes.

"shouldn't be this tight or feel this good." he huffs, he uses your body like a sex doll. he holds you down and thrusts into you so hard your skin stings. every loud collision of his flesh with yours hurts.

"you're my slut, fuck, you're the only bitch i want." your entire body shakes with the weigh of his movements. your eyes water and you fist the soaked sheets.

naoya looks too good above you. the sweat on his forehead dampens his hair and his muscles shift every time he sinks back inside you.

you are delirious, he did as he said he would, he makes your stomach bulge over and over again. he turns your brain into useless chum.

your cunt sputters liquid, his movements are flurried and aggressive. your sex loudly squelches. you never thought it would feel this good.

every vein on his cock slides along your gummy insides, you feel like you are about to pass out. "a whore like you doesn't deserve to cum but i need to feel you gripping me. i need to know how tight your pussy gets when you're cumming." his fingers find your buzzing clit.

"m'not a whore."

"you're getting fucked like one."

all you can focus on is him, he rolls your clit with experience. a part of you hates that despite him being nothing to you. your vision is blurred by tears but blinking them away allows you to see him.

his body seems like a sculpture. every muscle is evident for prying eyes. beads of sweat leak down his temple and his jaw is locked. he looks unreal. you wish he was yours although you do not know him. you have no relation but he is stretching out your cunt and making it his.

your hand grips his, head thrown back as you writhe on the sheets. you breathe in exasperation as his much larger fingers intertwine with yours. he is holding your hand. he is holding it while he pummels your insides.

you are too sensitive and too overwhelmed. when you cum, your entire body trembles. your eyes squeeze tightly and you clamp down on him like a vice. you cream on his cock your entire body coated in sweat while you shake.

the sight of you throws him over the edge.

"shit, fuck, no one is as good as you. no one." he grits his teeth, eyes fluttering. his length is soaked in you, strands coating him and the harder he pounds the more frothy cream collects at his base.

"want you like this forever." his body covers you completely. his arms wrap around your waist to hold you tight to him. all his weight is pressed into you, desperately thrusting his hips as he chases his release.

despite how you whine and cry at the excessive stimulation. your nails digging into his flesh and scratching lines down his skin.

you seem to mark another area of his back every time he pounds into you.

his movements have your body jerking and his muscles flexing. your cunt feels like it is forcefully drawing the orgasm from him, his teeth grit and his eyes flicker as they threaten to roll back.

he is so powerful but right now he looks like he is losing it. his mouth roughly presses into yours, his tongue and spit in excess and his hips stutter for a moment before he slams into you so hard your cunt squelches.

his hips rock as he stays flush to you and for the first time you are getting filled up. it is even hotter than his cock, it sears along your walls, endlessly pouring and leaking as he grows soft.

"you take it so well for a virgin." he pants before his lips claim yours in a nasty kiss.

he says that like he has not already stripped that title from you.

his weight crushes you beneath him but somehow it is comforting. somehow you like it. you like that there is no space between you and him.

your arms reach around his neck, tears streaked down your cheeks while your mouth desperately returns his kiss.

he briefly parts before leaning back in. it is unfair that he has everything. he is too pretty and he seems to be good at everything.

you whine when he sits up on his knees, your hands losing their grip on his muscles. his eyes train where his cock still fills you.

you wince while he slowly pulls out, the cum still dripping out of you. you feel empty without him.

he takes in the cum leaking from your used cunt. all he can think about is doing it again and again. without tire or care. a surprisingly gentle touch swipes your hair from your face before he strokes your cheek and leans down.

his soft lips though swollen softly move along yours. he breathes a bit more laboured as his hands touch and squeeze along your body and his kisses make their way from your neck to your sternum and tits.

you are panting while he trails open mouthed kisses on your skin. his eyes do not leave yours and they are so golden you swear they glow.

your body grows tense when he drifts lower than your belly and suddenly he is kissing right above your cum filled slit and your inner thighs.

"you're so soft." you did not expect it. was that a good thing? his breath is so close to your pussy, it is weird to think he was just inside you.

you squeal, a hand covering your mouth as his tongue swipes over your cunt. "naoya, that's dirty." your voice is muffled beneath your palm, all he does is clamp his mouth on your clit and suck.

laughing into your cunt before his tongue is gliding up and down your slit endlessly.

a man of his calibre was between your legs with his mouth in such a place. it did not make sense. his heated muscle slips into your pussy, saliva coating you in excess.

your feet lift onto the tip of your toes while you moan. you moan for naoya like you were made for it, made for him.

his fingers gently caress the back of your thighs, all while he sloppily sucks up your messy cunt.

he does not want to stop, his cum is inside of you, it is in your pussy.

he came there. he came within your silky walls and he will never stop thinking about it, about you. he pulls back, licking his lips and nipping the flesh of your thigh before trailing his tongue along your slit.

his cum is still seeping out despite the amount he lapped up from your hole. there are sticky strands of liquid on his jaw and mouth as he brings his face to yours

"it's not dirty. what's filthy, is that you let me fuck you like a cock hungry slut." his large palms grasp your tits while you are speechless.

"is that what you are, my cockslut?" you find yourself nodding your head, whimpering in agreement.

you just want to be something to him.

his thumb strokes over your lips while he grips your face, you are so much smaller his entire hand seems to hold it. "you think you can suck me off? get me nice and wet in that little mouth and make me cum?"

you stare up at him with the prettiest wide eyes. you were crying for so long. you cry so much it makes him hard. "i can." you softly whisper and naoya cannot help but kiss you sweetly.

he nips your lips, laving his tongue over them before he sits next to you.

you swallow, he helps you up by a firm grip on your upper arm. your head feels light.

you are surprised when his hand cups the back of your head and shoves down. his erect cock presses against your cheek. "c'mon, don't waste time."

your hand unsurely surrounds the base, you cannot believe something like this had managed to fit inside you. naoya sighs at the softness. your tongue clumsily laps at his slit, the taste of his cum and your juices filling your mouth.

your lips enclose just before his shaft, your mouth insanely warm it makes naoya pant. "take more of it, i don't fucking care if it's your first time." he gruffly says. you are perched on your knees with his cock in your mouth.

moments before you had never seen one in your life.

you are so unsure, you lower on him but the second his tip brushes the back of your throat you gag. you lurch, the muscles constricting around him.

you pull back frantically, coughing as you clutch your throat. naoya finds your eyes more teary. "so fuckin dramatic." he tuts.

his tip presses against the seam of your lips and you have no choice but to open up.

you really do try to be good. you try your hardest to take more but it seems never ending. you gag so much desperately trying to get him seated deep in your throat. but you can't.

that tight little throat of yours can hardly get even half of him in on your own.

"you're shit at this." he laughs airily. you are drooling so much it is insanely messy, he never had it like this before.

every bit of him says to bruise the back of your throat, to fist your hair and fuck into your mouth so that every inch of him feels the silky walls of your throat.

he listens.

at first, his fingers gently caress through your hair. it lasts for a second before he is pushing your head down. your throat constricts and he shudders. he cannot tell which liquid that drips onto his skin is your spit or tears.

he is vicious and rough. constantly bobbing your head along his cock regardless of how you choke. the sloppy noises are all he needs to get there. the feeling of your gooey throat objecting his forceful intrusion. your muscles resisting. "fuck you're such a good bitch. little baby throat s'taking it all."

his body tenses, hips stuttering to fuck into your mouth. he does not usually come this fast. he shoves you down until your lips surround his base. he swears he can see your throat bulging from his cock. your hot sticky saliva drip all over him as he shallowly ruts his hips.

naoya grits his teeth, moaning loudly before he spews cum down your throat. you jerk in confusion but he does not release you. your hands scramble. he feels you swallowing around him but it is not enough.

liquid spills past the perimeter of his cock.

he tugs you off, your mouth wetly separating with a sticky pop.

"you look pretty like this." your hair is knotted, tear streaks coat your cheeks, your lips are swollen from sucking his dick and his cum is spewed in your mouth in a sticky web. it drips down your jaw but he still kisses you.

still does it all sweetly and cups your cheeks as if he is a nice man.

you eagerly accept it. you kiss and kiss and his salty cum is messily exchanged. you are a breathless mess when he pulls away with spit still connecting you.

"so stupid." he shoves your forehead with his forefinger. you want to cry. he leaves you sitting while he lies on the sodden sheets.

it hurts to hear. you sniffle, looking at him. you let all this happen. you slept with him. this is not some lucid sex dream, it really occurred. he came in you, he touched you everywhere.

he had you in way a man never did before.

you are crying for a different reason now. when the lust that clouded your brain finally dispels you realise everything is ruined.

"do you have any idea what you've done?" tears are profusely coating your cheeks, you tug the blanket to your chest.

you are hiding your body as though he has not violated every inch of it. as if his desecration has not tainted you in the form of bruises and cum.

naoya breathes, his eyes rolling as he folds his arms under his head. "i fucked a bitch, s'all."

your face contorts in more pain. this was never supposed to be your life. you meant nothing to the man who was just inside you.

you were nothing to him. "i can't get married now."

naoya looks angry. the muscles in his arms flex, eyes flitting over to you.

in a second he sits up, the expanse of his palm covers your throat. it draws a sound of shock from you. his face is all too close and you wince at the flashes of him fucking you as they are forced into your mind.

how can you forget it? especially when he is at this proximity, when his hands were all over your body and now he simply held your neck.

his gaze flits downwards, he is angry without a doubt. it is hard to not see it when his skin is flushed red and his jaw is locked.

he rips the sheet from your body before he roughly shakes you.

your eyes flash in panic as you grip his tightening hand. "you have me and you want to marry some lowlife prick from your shitty clan?" he hisses into your face, his nose brushing yours over the nonexistent distance.

you gasp for air because he holds too tight. "you weren't a good fuck. not at all." his hand slips between your legs to cup your cum filled cunt and you blanch.

"you're just a prissy little virgin but you're pretty. i'll give it to you, you're gorgeous." without any warning his digits slide inside of you.

it is forceful and rough as he repeatedly thrusts his long fingers into the soaked walls of your pussy. you grit your teeth. it should not feel good. it should not but you cannot help the uninhibited movement of your hips.

your legs practically part for him on instinct despite how badly you want him to get away from you. that is what you want, right?

you should not want him and your eyes that are trailing all over his defined muscles should be looking to the heavens for some hope.

they should not be gleaming at his pretty features or his damp hair. "and you'll be one hell of a bitch but you gotta prove it to me before i marry you." marriage.

oh marriage, marriage, marriage.

it had been on your mind since you were a little girl. you have ached and dreamed and wished upon the stars for it to find you.

"how?" his brows tilt at your broken voice. he shoves you down until your head meets the wooden flooring and your back stings at the impact.

he is over you, his shadow casting along your figure. "let me fuck you. submit yourself to me alone. if ever you touch another man, i'll know."

his voice is deep, his expression dark. he is terrifying, you wonder how someone so pretty could look so horrific. you swallow hard.

"i'd kill him and i'd kill you." his eyes do not leave yours for a second. he brings your legs around his narrow waist, the weigh of his erection digging into the flesh of your inner thighs.

"but if you be good, i'll marry you. i'll take you away from this place."

you want so desperately to escape, you want so desperately to be anywhere but here. you want to be with him even if he is awful.

"will you marry me?" your fingers itch with the urge to draw him closer, your voice a warbled mess. your legs tighten around him, you want him close. so close.

it seems he knows because he nears until his body is flush to yours. until you are engulfed by his scent and the hardness of his figure.

"i swear it." his eyes flick to your lips, so close to him that they brush with his words. his admission has you gripping his cheeks and kissing him.

it's an inexperienced and sloppy kiss but you do as best as you can and naoya finds your mouth one of his favourite things.

tears leak from your eyes as he shoves his entire length into you and your body tenses.

for the second time that night he claims you.

---

despite wanting to be angry at him, you cannot. not when he kissed every bruise he left on your skin, not when he pressed his lips to yours like you meant something to him.

not when he tugged you into his side and you find revery in his scent.

something about naoya is so comforting you find yourself falling asleep with no issue.

or maybe it is because he used and exhausted your body.

he has you wrapped in his arms with familiarity. your face mushed to his chest and your leg thrown over his waist.

his thumb coaxes along your back, his face nuzzling your hair. you look adorable, you look too precious. even in your sleep you press into him more.

naoya wants to burn the sight into his brain.

you are his forever.

"my soul always searches for yours but you have never remembered mine. not once." he whispers into the air although you cannot hear it.

although you do not respond.

isn't he so dreamy ^^

#🩷.jjk #san.stories #📁.size kink #📁.virginity kink #📁.dumbification #tw.dubcon #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk #naoya smut #jjk naoya #jjk x reader #jjk smut #naoya x you #naoya zenin #naoya x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut

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alavestineneas · 5 months

Text

Losing dogs

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader

summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k

Part 2 is here!

author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!

The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.

''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''

Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.

They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.

''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''

The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.

The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion.

Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way.

''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''

''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''

He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.

''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.

The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.

Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her.

The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better.

Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle.

The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago.

''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''

Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.

When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life.

The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less.

The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns.

''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet.

''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation.

''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine.

When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''

''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us."

Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''

She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin.

He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep.

''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.

''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?

''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''

He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"

''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''

Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."

''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''

''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus."

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.

Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.

''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.

''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?"

''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on."

It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.

''You shouldn't accept.''

He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?"

''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''

Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?"

''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''

He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners.

''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist.

It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.

YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.

''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.

YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position."

''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''

YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'

"Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.

''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student."

''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration.

''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''

''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own."

''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''

He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else.

From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception.

From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man.

And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out?

It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table.

He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.

At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.

''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake.

Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving.

''You were having a nightmare again.''

He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"

''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense."

He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.

''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''

YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her.

There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?

Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.

As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.

The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.

They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success?

YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.

It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful.

That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.

''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''

YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish.

Cabbage.

Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.

''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.''

The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''

YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air."

She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit.

The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her.

After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.

"What do you think of me?"

His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.

"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."

She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.

"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time.

"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."

Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"

"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."

YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.

"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"

He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring.

"You want power."

Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.

"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."

The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"

"You."

He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.

"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."

Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.

There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.

"Feed me, then."

He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath.

They were going to be just fine.

After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.

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russellsppttemplates · 1 month

Text

Keep them away (Max Verstappen)

Even though it was part of his job, Max's rules were clear: no one could get close to you or the children

Note: english is not my first language. A couple of blurbs originated this one! I'm not sure how I feel about it, if I like it or not tbh...

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"I want to talk to you about something, liefje", Max said as you walked around the bedroom, laying out your clothes for the next day and taking off the jewellery you didn't like to sleep with.

"Is everything alright?", you asked pulling the covers and joining him in bed, holding his hand in yours and interlocking your fingers.

"It didn't occur to me until last week that now Finn can walk into the paddock without being on your arms or mine, and the stroller can only hide so much, and there will come a time when it will be the same for Julia, and I don't want the kids' faces on media in such a free and uncontrolled way", he admitted.

The last Grand Prix you attended made it real tp you. It seemed such a big step and something you thought people would respect intuitively, but the moment the photographers swarmed you and you had difficulty walking along the paddock to get to RedBull, you had enough.

"Me neither, but I get what you mean. Last week, I had to keep telling Finn to come close to me so I could sort of cover his face", you offered, "is there something we can make for that, though?", you wondered.

"Yes, I spoke to the team and they know about these forms where you can grant photographic allowances to certain photographers if they want to record or take pictures if we go down that route - it states who is allowed and what terms and conditions they can do it in inside the paddock. And there's also one for outside the paddock, if we sign it, it will mean no one can take pictures of you or the kids outside of the paddock and we'll be supported legally in case someone breaches it", Max assured.

"I like the sound of that, it does soothe my heart", you tapped your chest with your palm.

"I'll have them draw up the forms and then we can go over them together and sign then", he smiled, pulling you to his chest.

"I'm not saying we are keeping them away from the world - even though that would hardly be an issue - but having a restricted set of people in who we trust is doable", you mused, resting your head on his chest completely and kissing his skin, "I don't want them to do whatever they please with my little ones", you grumbled.

"Mama bear is out, hm?", Max chuckled, "but I agree, love, I wouldn't want it either".

"I can get the stroller, Sophie", you called for your mother in-law, letting her take Finn's hand instead as you walked out of the hotel, Max by your side as you strolled around the ses front, making some time before your lunch reservation.

Max wasn't racing until the next weekend, so you were making the most out of family time you could. To make things easier for you on the flight home, Sophie offered to come with you so you wouldn't have to fly back on your own with two kids since Max was flying straight to the city where the Grand Prix was being held.

"Is she going to fall asleep on the way there?", you peeped at the little girl, eyes droopy even though she tried her best to look at you and Max, "she didn't sleep all that well, so probably", your husband shrugged his shoulders, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you walked behind Sophie and Finn.

At first, Max thought it was his mind making things up and that people were taking pictures of the beach and the architecture details, so he set his guard down. When you sat down for lunch, though, it was obvious.

"They're taking pictures of us, aren't they?", Max asked as he pointed with his eyes to the group of three people holding cameras, suddenly pulling them from eyesight the moment they saw you both stare at them as one of the waiters came to the table.

"Mr. Verstappen, I'm sorry to bother you, but that group is asking if they can come closer for some pictures and it didn't seem like it was our place to decide that", he explained as Max sighed, "thank you for that - I'll go talk to them just now. We didn't want any of this to happen or for you, your colleagues or your clients to be bothered by this, it wasn't our intention", Max assured as the waiter nodded before excusing himself.

"I'm going to talk to them, I'll be right back", he told you, kissing the top of your head and stepping closer to them.

"Hello, it has come to my understanding - correct me if I'm wrong even though I'm probably right - that you're taking pictures of me and my family, and I won't allow it", he stated firmly but politely, not wanting to cause a scene despite his blood boiling.

"It was just of you, we'll edit everything else out, if we could jus-", one of them tried and Max drew the line there.

"We have made it clear! When my family is in the paddock, Finn, Julia and Y/N can be photographed by a closed group of photographers - and I know who they are because we allowed them and none of you are them! We are outside of the paddock so no one is allowed to take pictures of them to begin with, and then you're disrespecting the other people who work and who are eating here. We have given strict guidelines that are clear as we won't accept this!", Max spoke sternly.

Back at the table, Sophie took the pencil case out of the backpack so Finn could draw while you waited for the food,

"Why is papa talking to those people? Do we know them?", Finn asked, "they're taking pictures of us and papa and mama don't want that, so papa is telling them that", you explained, knowing your clever boy would catch up with it sooner than later and knowing honesty would be the way to go.

"You'd think they would get the boundaries you've set", Sophie told you, "especially with the kids around, it's a no brainer".

"They're always looking for anything to make a big great story of - if those pictures ever see daylight, they'll probably start calling me names and making assumptions they have no business or information to make", you groaned.

Max came back, sitting on the chair you saved for him, "they really didn't want to budge and they kept asking if they could "just take a few more" like I hadn't just told them that what they were doing was breaching agreements", he groaned lightly to make sure Finn didn't hear too much, looking at the stroller to see Julia was still taking a nap.

"Did you see the e-mail I sent you, liefje?", Max asked over FaceTime now that he had wished goodnight to both kids, meaning he had your attention all to himself now.

"I saw it was a statement, I didn't get to read anything else", you added, getting your iPad to read it properly.

"The team helped me make a statement about your privacy and the kids', so nothing else happens again", he stated.

Earlier this week, the social media department at RedBull noticed a photo of you circulating the press platforms, and judging by the location, you were indeed back home and not somewhere in the paddock to surprise Max, making the photo a breach of contract.

"Hopefully they take the hint", Max sighed, keeping his calm and collected attitude he wanted you to have too. For anyone else, Max always seemed rash to the point some considered rude. But when it involved his family, he knew how to go about it, wanting his children to learn and know he was protecting you and how he would never allow anyone to disrespect you like that.

"We'll be fine, and I genuinely hope that, from the way we mentioned legal consequences, people actually take it seriously", you shrugged your shoulders. It wasn't that you didn't care about it, but rather you realized there was only so much you could control, and you wouldn't let that control your life, "we'll see how it goes, okay?", you checked over, "anyway, how does the car look for qualifying?", you changed the subject as the cats sat on your lap.

"Mama, I'm scared", Finn muttered, clinging closer to you and hiding his face on your neck. That was all it took for you to let your mama bear instincts out, holding your son as you walked past them, looking for a security member that could escort you to the RedBull hospitality as it was harder to push the stroller when you had to carry Finn as well.

"Excuse me, Excuse me!", you yelled, "I'm sure you know you're not allowed to take pictures, so I would appreciate it if you didn't do it, much less when my children are here!", you spoked, catching a few photographers off guard and the attention of one of the security staff by the entrance.

"I'll help you with her if that's okay", he quesioned as his hand went straight to the stroller, "yes, please", you breathed out, holding Finn close to you and whispering soothing words on his ear, "it's okay, my love, we're okay".

Stepping inside the hospitality, you set your things down and sat Finn down on the sofa so you could get Julia in your arms, soothing her cries.

"Thank you so much, it was getting crazy out there", you said, holding your daughter's head to your chest and bouncing her.

"No problem, glad I could help", the security guard excused himself to go back to his spot as you looked at Finn.

"Are you okay, love?", you wondered as Julia's cries quieted down.

"I didn't like how they were yelling and running", he told you, "I thought papa said they only did it when we were there", he pointed to the people walking outside, "That's true, they shouldn't do it outside", you explained, "I'm sorry they scared you, but you're safe with me and with papa, okay?", you added, kissing his once again on his forehead as Max appeared.

"Hey", he kissed the top of your head, Julia's and then Finn's, "I heard what happened. Are you two okay?", he asked, looking at Finn who pulled him into a hug, "Finn was a bit shaken up by it, but we've taken some deep breaths and we are going to stay inside for today, isn't that right, love?", you saw him nod.

Finn fell asleep on top of him soon after, "I have spoken to the lawyers, they will be taking the legal actions necessary for this situation. Are you sure you're okay?", Max questioned again.

"We are, Max. It shook him up a little bit because they were so close to us - and the stroller could only keep them so far -, and I told them a few times that we were outside of the paddock, but they just wouldn't listen", you frowned, "it's not great, but if this means you guys are safe, I don't care about anything else. I want you safe, all of you", he smiled, kissing your cheek and pulling you so your side rested against his torso.

"I hate having to yell at people, poor Julia just looked at me like I was mad and Finn was a little shaken up", you mumbled, "but they wouldn't move away, no matter how many times I told them to, only when the security guard was near us was I able to free up space from them".

"Don't worry about that, they're the ones in the wrong, not us", Max comforted.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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turvi · 11 months

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Ypu said you wanna write for rodrick and I wanna request.

So rodrick with a good girl neighbour reader (think- gwen stacy type) and rodrick does all kinda stuff to impress her even at school so yea.

I'm a sucker for goofy! Himbo! Rodrick

Thank you for the request. I hope you enjoy this

"BOYS! OUR NEW NEIGHBOURS ARE HERE!" Susan yelled and huffed when none of the boys responded to her call. Greg was busy filming Rowley trying to fall from his chair. Rodrick was in the basement and didn't hear his mam call out to him as he was drowned in the sounds of his drums.

A few minutes later, Rodrick finally comes up to drink water, only to see the new neighbours...most importantly, their daughter.

Rodrick didn't realise he had dropped his drumsticks on the floor until his mother was tugging him towards the living room and introduced him to the neighbours, the L/ns. And there she was with a sweet, gentle smile telling him her name.

"Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Y/n," she said, offering her hand.

Rodrick held her hand, not wanting to let go, but he had to since both his and her parents were watching them. "I-uh...I am Rodrick."

He scowled when he heard Greg snickering behind him. He wanted to hide so badly just because he couldn't tell his name to a pretty girl. But she doesn't laugh at him. She squeezed his hand, letting him know it was ok.

It was, at this moment, he wondered if it was too soon to ask her to marry him? He shook his head. He was being silly. Just because a girl was nice to him doesn't mean he should fall in love with her.

Then two days later, he heard knocking on the garage door. He sighed, thinking it was one of the upright elder people wanting him to keep the voice low. When he opened the garage door, he almost let it go when he saw Y/n standing there, the harsh sunlight pouring down his lawn.

He quickly let her in and introduced her to his bandmates, who were just beaming at the sight of Rodrick being awkward and shy around her.

"Hey, I was just walking by and heard you guys play. I was wondering if you could teach me how to play drums. I already talked to your mom."

His friend patted his shoulder. "Rodrick is our drummer. He is a great teacher too, he can teach you. Right, Rodrick?"

Rodrick got out of his daze when he heard his name. "Uh...yeah...yeah...I drum...drums" It was like he never learnt English in school, and Rodrick hated how he sounded.

"Ok, tell me when you are free. I'll come."

"Actually, we are leaving, so you guys can continue. It was nice meeting you." his friend winked at him, leaving the two alone. Rodrick knew he couldn't do much but look at her knowing his mom was peeping through the basement door. But he was just happy seeing her and talking to her.

He was happy they were bonding. He would teach her to play the drums. She would spellcheck his assignments. Rodrick knew she had a place in his heart when she would gently correct his spellings.

Slowly he loved holding her hands, her smile, her nose scrunch, the way she snorted before she laughed, and her soft sweaters that always smelled nice.

He didn't realise when he fell in love, or was he always in love? When he would go shopping with his family, he would spot things that he knew Y/n might like. He even saw a jewellery shop, and his heart dropped looking at the prices of the rings. But then, he had yet to win her heart. He was determined to buy this ring.

Of course, by the time he would be rich enough to buy the ring, he would already have your heart. But Rodrick didn't know he already had Y/n's heart, and she knew it was always going to be his.

@milivanili99 @cecekcecekceckceckceck @maneskai @isaentremundos @autumn3l3ctr0swings @mikulovingtrash

A/N: If you like this REBLOG AND COMMENT

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick x reader #rodrick x y/n #rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid imagines #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick rules #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick rules #rodrick imagines #rodrick heffley fanfic #rodrick heffley fluff #rodrick heffley x fem!reader #devon bostick x reader #devon bostick #ask turvi #turvi writes

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amourdyke · 4 months

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𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ✷ 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐄

pjo fanfiction 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✷ your father wouldn’t approve of how my mother raised me but i do i think i do, and you’re an all-american girl i guess i couldn’t help trying to be your best american girl ✷ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ooc clarisse, aphrodite’s daughter reader, fake dating, angst and pining

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄

The words escaped her mouth before she could fully comprehend what was happening. Big bad Clarisse La Rue with a temper to mimic boiling water and the fight skills to ward off teasing has finally been a victim to it irredeemably as lies slipped past her lips spontaneously, unthinking.

“You had a girlfriend this whole time and none of us knew? Yeah, right, Clarisse, you’re full of shit”

“She used to date a Hephaestus chick, alright? Didn’t want anyone pointing out the whole history repeating itself trope of Aphrodite and Ares” A part of her is proud of her trope, a child of Apollo worthy storyline invented last minute, it seemed to not occur to her the way specifics would bite her in the ass until her sibling’s eyes sparkled mischievously, pointing towards the other end of the bonfire at a female figure she had not seen before, though apparently the only one who seemed to match characteristics.

“You mean to say you’re dating angel face over there?”

Your eyes caught hers for the first time in that moment, setting ablaze something at the pit of her stomach that had seemed to lay dormant far too long, hence the beginning of the relentless conversation she found herself in in the first place. “Yeah, that’s her, my girl” she concurs, taking a sip of her drink and staring off into your figure like a predator.

You first met Tori before you were claimed. She would sneak into the Hermes cabin to give you midnight kisses and hide freshly made jewellery she forged instead of armour under your pillow for surprises, adorning your neck in both purple bruises and metal chains, her own special claim on you. Until your mother showed face. It burned you to remember how she spoke, as though not knowing you, like Aphrodite you must be your mother’s daughter. A cheater, she meant. You still dreamed that your only claim was Tori’s kisses and necklaces on days like these where you watched her by the bonfire avoid your every glimpse.

And then someone’s grip is on your arm.

“I wonder what could the most infamous child of Ares possibly want with me” She raises her eyebrows at the nickname from you, someone she had not acknowledged nor recognized before today though the opposite could clearly not be said, the beginning of a smirk ghosting over her features.

“Is that what I am?”

“Don’t play dumb, Clarisse, it’s not your best look, you know exactly what you are, it’s your charm, that is if you’re into the whole bully chic thing”

“I need a favour from you” She wastes no time and you scoff in response, your eyes still seeking out Tori, anxiously hoping she does not see any of this interaction as to not play out scenarios in her head. Clarisse takes none of it. She grabs you by the chin, in a firm yet surprisingly careful hold and forces you to face her, wide brown eyes with a beauty you hadn’t quite recollected before seeing its warm specks up close like firecrackers trapped behind her irises. You shake off the thought and cross your arms.

“Why would I do you any favours? I bet you don’t even know my name, hell, I bet you don’t even know who I am in general–”

“You’re my girlfriend”

“I beg your pardon?” You nearly choke and Clarisse laughs.

“I’ve been watching you. You’ve been staring at that raven haired Hephaestus girl for the last forty minutes uninterrupted while I can quite easily point out at least six girls who have been drooling to get your attention in the last sixty and you haven’t even spared them a pity glance, so I’m going to guess that’s your ex?”

“What does that have to do with anything besides the fact you’re apparently a fucking stalker?”

“Feisty, angel face” She snarks “I need a girlfriend to get some people off my back for awhile and you apparently want your ex back, so why don’t you use that tiny love focused brain of yours and think for two seconds what makes someone temporarily lose their senses and say, get back together with their ex?”

“You want me to use you to make Tori jealous?”

“Do you really have anything to lose?”

You watch her train, that’s your first date, and it starts off as uninteresting as you guessed it would be. Until she’s flexing a little too much, and you’re catching on, of course, but it’s working, because you’re suddenly focused, mouth agape as she lifts up her shirt exposing her perfectly sculpted abdomen to clean sweat off her forehead with the orange cloth.

“Having fun gawking?” She teases.

“Isn’t that what you brought me here for?”

Clarisse twists her spear around in the air and finally settles it behind her flexed arms, moving towards you as she looks around the training grounds for something, eyes sparkling at the sight of a similar weapon to hers “You know how to fight, angel face?”

“I’m a demigod, Clarisse” She feigns fright at your words before rolling her eyes and moves to throw the spare spear towards you, which you take in hands overwhelmed. She steps back and motions you forward which for whatever reason you comply, before you know it her breath is hot on your neck, a whisper: “Your little ex is watching”

She wasn’t entirely truthful. Tori was there, but she barely spared you a glance. Clarisse’s siblings however watched her every move, and she was preparing a spectacle. Positioning herself behind you, hands on your waist as to fix your stance, she dismissed the way her fingers seemed to physically burn at the sensation of your skin desperately seeking out to touch you more and focused on pointing your aim at the dummy before you. It strikes him right in the heart first try and falls backwards on itself. You’re beaming. Clarisse’s chest squeezes. She forgets to let go of your love handles until you turn around.

“You look pretty when you’re deadly” She casually lets out, a sigh.

“Did Tori see your hands on me?” You look around, an attempt at casually catching your exes eye. You miss the way Clarisse frowns when she agrees nonchalantly. One of her siblings winks, she thinks to herself this was too much trouble.

“Okay I think that’s enough performing for a day”

“You’ll hurt me this way, princess. Can’t stand me that much? I don’t get it, did I dunk one of your friends on the toilet or something?”

“I don’t understand”

“Playing dumb isn’t your look either” Clarisse mimics your first encounter as she stares daggers at you. She looks like she could see right through your soul and it sends shivers down your spine.

“You really don’t remember me, huh?” You scoff, and Clarisse is furrowing her brows and attempting to dive into her memory but you’re quicker to refresh it “My first year here I was like a lost and kicked puppy. And you were the girl who killed the monster who nearly killed me and actually killed my satyr protector. I guess it was just another day for you but it was my worst nightmare and you were a fucking knight in shining armor, I thought so anyways. I followed you around for months, and what does it say that you didn’t even know my name until two days ago? You are probably the one most self centered person I have ever met and I was a stupid little girl with a crush who thought you could save me while you actively terrorised everyone who was nice to you. Including me. And you don’t even remember taunting me, because it was just another fucking wednesday. So maybe I’m not enthusiastic about playing your girlfriend for longer than I have to”

It suddenly dawns on her, the memory of you. You looked different now, she guessed those were some perks of growing up as an Aphrodite kid but staring at your face, hurt expression, made the resemblance uncanny. To the one person she regretted hurting. She had just lost a fight and you had ran after her for comfort, but Ares had seen it. So there was nothing you could say. She wanted someone to hurt like she was hurting as though it would take her own pain away. She lost the fucking fight because she looked for you in the audience as she was winning. Affection made her weak. She made you pay for it.

“You called me a stupid girl who doesn’t know when to leave people alone and that’s why no one could stand me. Ring a bell?” You turned around to leave when Clarisse was silent. She surprised herself when she spoke up.

“Well let me teach you to hate me less!” She called out, running her hand through her curls frantically “We can’t do this if you don’t stand the sight of me, my siblings won’t buy it, your ex girlfriend who knows you certainly won’t either. Let’s go out and talk and maybe you’ll like something about me, I don’t know”

“Why does it matter so much to you that you have a girlfriend? Why do your siblings care? Answer me this and I might go with you”

“Fucking Gods, you’re insufferable” She mutters “Because I’m tired of being the one with no life, okay? All I have is training, and everyone knows that and I hate when they start worrying so I need anything to ward it off and I guess relationship maybe screams reason to live and not dying to be a war martyr so this is what I got, okay? It’s stupid, but it’s what I got”

“Alright”

“Alright?”

“I’ll try to like you, Clarisse”

She leads you to the forest in the middle of the night as to not alert anyone. The moon is full and it lights up her face in a way that softens her usually rough features. It is strange how your hands meet eachothers halfway in a hold until you reach your destination, a lake surrounded by flowers. You’re taking off your clothes, stripping into underwear before Clarisse could even fully process it, her eyes widening at the sight of your unbuttoning jeans reaching your calves, then the floor.

“Aren’t you coming?” You say as you stumble into the water. She watches you, the same way she had at the bonfire, and feels guilt pool at her throat for the way she gazed at your body. Clarisse wants to put a word to her feeling and all that comes to mind is hungry. She feels hungry. Like she could bite into your skin and tarnish its softness, like she needs to.

She takes off her clothes as well, skin still hot despite the cold air embracing her suddenly. You watch her too, she notices. Though she can’t pinpoint the look in your eye as she walks into the lake and heads towards you, stopping until your chests barely touch. There’s unusual heavy breathing from the both of you, hypnotised. You’re sure you won’t speak of it tomorrow.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m trying to find things to like about you, work with me here”

“I like red. Like blood”

“Like love” Clarisse doesn’t bother to reply to your argument, but it makes a part of her shake. War and romance unfortunately have too many things in common, she notes to herself.

“My turn. Why do you want your ex back?”

“Because she was good to me. She was kind and soft and she liked me. I miss feeling like someone cares like that”

“Aren’t you Aphrodite’s daughter? Doesn’t that sound a little like the bare minimum? She’s good to you? She’s kind? Didn’t she stop being those things when it ended?”

“You don’t know anything about relationships, Clarisse, you’ve never had one. I’m difficult, I’m a cheater’s kid, I’m–”

“You’re beautiful. Breathtaking, like your mom. Maybe that’s the only thing you got from her. You can aim. You’re strong. You’re apparently vengeful at least towards me which in my books is an attractive quality, you’re witty and you get little crinkles around your eyes when you laugh. I’m going to guess you didn’t cheat on that ex of yours so you’re not an asshole, for sure not a cheater. You give people chances when they don’t deserve it. I’m not quite following what could be so damn difficult about you”

You stay silent for awhile. Thinking. She hates herself for not knowing what it is that you think, and regrets saying so many things in your quietness. Then you whisper something she doesn’t catch and she asks you to say it again and in clear noise it sounds as shocking as it did when she first thought to have tricked her ears: “You never had a relationship, have you ever been kissed?”

Clarisse shakes her head no.

“Can I kiss you?” You correct yourself as you lean in, placing a curl behind her ear “Just in case we need to do this in front of your siblings or Tori, so we’re ready”

“Right” Clarisse mumbles as her hands snake her way around your waist pulling your body closer to fully press against hers “Just in case” she finishes whispering before her lips finds yours. There’s more desire than you both thought there would be. It’s desperate. Messy. Tongues clashing and chests heaving. She wants to taste you forever. She thinks she’s screwed.

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #dior goodjohn #percy jackson fanfiction

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reallyhatethiswebsite · 1 month

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girl dad Raphael ends my life

He's not unaware of the intense gaze on him. He's ignoring it until his little admirer decides what she wants to say. She's patient, he'll give her that, but in the end she's a child and he has lived for nearly two millenia. He will outlast her. He will -

"You are staring, daughter."

Or not. His blasted curiosity gets the better of him. He has folded his hand in this silent game. He has been bested by this beast of his own creation, and from the way she giggles, she knows it.

"Yes I am, father," she admits, brazen as a bull.

"Would you care to tell me why?"

The creature's mother, lounging on a chaise across the room, hides a smile behind the pages of the novel she's reading. Clearly she finds this amusing. Later, he swears, he will show her something he finds amusing.

"Well, I was just thinking..." says the child, resting her chin on her hands. It still shocks him how small they are. Even fully spread, her fingers don't cover the span of his own palms. Looking at her hands stirs his protective instincts, fatherly instincts he didn't believe he possessed until she came crashing into his life. "Your horns are really nice and pretty but I think they would look even nicer if I put some gems and ribbons on them."

His wife disguises her laughter as a cough. Wretch. He raises a brow at his daughter, otherwise keeping his face neutral as possible.

"My horns are pretty, you say?"

She nods emphatically, kicking her feet. "Yep! They're so big and spirally and spikey. I hope mine look like that when I grow up."

He bites his forked tongue to stem the flow of pride and happiness he experiences. Despite his verbose inclinations, his knowledge of a hundred languages both young and old, he can't describe what it's like to be given such free and unconditional love like that; true to his nature, he hoards it greedily, adding to the ever-growing list in the recesses of his rotten soul of the terrible things he would do to keep this child safe and happy. He is the apple of her eye, and he will raze the Hells themselves to stay that way. Of course, she doesn't need to know any of this, not yet, so instead he fixes her with a placid look and says:

"So, what do we do when we have a theory?"

"Test it!" She shrieks, delighted, and hops off her seat to run to her room and grab her things.

"No running in the house!" He barks after her. There shan't be a repeat of the great statue-collapsing-incident, thank you very much. Tav's expression when she looks at him warms the coals of desire in his belly. He leans back in his seat and preens. When his daughter returns, her arms full of jewellery and ribbons (of course he spoils her; no child of his will want for anything) he lets her - just this once, mind - sit on his desk, obediently lowering his head so she can decorate his crown of horns as she sees fit.

Her theory, in his opinion, is proven correct: he looks fantastic.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 #raphael x tav #fanfic #kid fic #cringe

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impossiblesuitcase · 9 months

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Cinder is jealous. She's jealous of her step-sisters. They have pretty clothes and soft hands and a doting mother. She has none of which. Her sister Peony is her only human friend and even seeing her in a ballgown sparks "envy" in Cinder, because Peony gets a dress and can go to the ball. Cinder can't.

She doesn't believe she could be pretty. She's too clunky, she's not curvy. She pins it down to being cyborg or just naturally inadequate. Cinder doesn't have nice clothes or fancy things. Kai gives her gloves and they are "the most beautiful thing she had ever owned." And then they are ruined, like all the pretty things in her life. She has to survive, endure, and with that she doesn't have time for prettiness.

But Kai's first impression of her is that she's "cute" and "pretty." He calls her pretty in public, and he calls her pretty in his private thoughts. "Your pretty new mechanic in the lobby", "the pretty young mechanic at the market." He finds her gorgeous with her glamour, and his "knees threatened to buckle" in her beauty. Everyone else thought she was gorgeous, but no one was swooning the way he was. The glamour had amplified the attraction he'd already had towards her.

Thorne, upon seeing a cyborg stumble into his jail cell, has the first instinct to flirt with her. Not recoil, because of her metal and skin, but flirt because she's a girl and that's his favourite pastime. And what distinguished her from the many other pretty girls he normally flirted with? To him, "her irritation made her prettier". Her disgruntled personality, who she is, is her prettiness.

Adri tells Cinder that if she can't cry, she can't feel love. She does love, she loves so much, but she doesn't have time to grieve her sister or her anonymity or her freedom when she has a revolution to start. She has to tough it out.

When she's bound up in Kai's arms she feels safe, delicate, "almost like a princess."

Cinder pretends she doesn't have a crush on Kai because having a crush on a celebrity is "preadolescent," the trademark of immature, lovesick teenage girls. How can she be girly when she's a grimy mechanic? She "doesn't know the first thing about makeup", because do you think Adri would have ever let her buy some to try? Would Cinder have even bothered, believing nothing could improve a cyborg?

She dreams of "going to the ball and dancing with the prince." And when Iko teases her, Cinder says, "we all have our weaknesses". It is a weakness to be in love, because someone like Kai couldn't love her. She imagines being at the ball, "jealous of the girls who swooned to catch Prince Kai's attention." Jealous that they can be open with their attraction, jealous that he would pick them over her.

But he loves her. And when he does, she can't process the feeling "of being desired". She wants to carve 'C + K' into a wall, then berates herself for such "whimsy." Because deep down, she's always wanted to be wanted, and that truth is her weakness. But war doesn't last forever, and soon, she has no reason to hide that. There's no reason it would be a weakness.

Cinder is comfortable in baggy cargo pants and messy hair but she also dreams of wearing a beautiful ballgown. She loves her coronation dress. She calls the empress crown 'stunning.'

She never becomes obsessed with frills or glitter, but she slowly leans into soft, pretty things. She has a necklace from Kai and her engagement ring. It's sparkly and yet, Cinder, the so-called 'tough, aloof tomboy' thinks it makes her metal hand look "elegant". Maybe she starts wearing bracelets and earrings because they don't bother her when she isn't working on something mechanical. She doesn't even notice until Thorne jokes that she wears more metal in jewellery than the whole metal of her hand.

Maybe she buys herself a new set of tools with pink and blue iridescent handles simply because finds them pretty. Maybe when her friends tease her about how in love she is, she starts to acknowledge it.

Cinder is not some stereotype of a leading female character who is strong and as such cannot be feminine or soft or emotional. Was she given the chance to be?

Let her be soft. Let her be delicate. Let her pretty.

#tlc #the lunar chronicles #lunar chronicles #linh cinder #selene blackburn #emperor kai #kaider #carswell thorne #ive had this sitting in my drafts for years #dont know why i never finished #i clearly had too much to say

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konigsblog · 4 months

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your perverse stalker...

tw/cw; stalker!soap, perv!soap, stalking, panty theif

johnny tries to hold himself back, he's desperate not to fall head over heels with you, but the more he creeps on you, the more his obsession grows. he's utterly obsessed with you; you're his fantasy, he's infantuated with you, completely addicted. he finds himself sneaking into your apartment, holding a dirty pair of panties against his face while stroking his thick, veiny cock. he grunts hoarsely, a low growl emitting from deep in his chest as he creeps on you; asleep and unaware of all the dirty things your stalker is doing.

johnny tries to convince himself that there's nothing wrong with what he's doing, that he's making sure you're safe and protected. but, he fully knows what he's doing, all the sick and twisted thoughts he has about you. instead of asking you out on a date, he hides behind your bathroom door and watches you shower. your body look so graceful, a perfect outlet for his load and a perfect mother for his future babies.

he steals things, from your underwear and sex toys, to jewellery, to clothes. he humps your sweatshirt, rubbing his leaking cock back and forth against it and grinding against it, desperate for the friction. his body gets all hot and flushed, and he's deeply humiliated when he looks down, realising what a sticky mess he'd made, what a depraved man he'd become.

god forbid you find out, get a restraining order... johnny can't survive without you, you're his drug. :(

#orla speaks #soap #john soap mactavish #soap modern warfare #soap mw2 #soap x you #soap x reader #soap x reader smut #soap mactavish #johnny mactavish

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poohbea · 2 years

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𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄.

eren yeager | smut, slight fluff, angst if you squint | aristocrat!au

wordcount: 5.8k

content: upper class shenanigans, softdom!eren, fem!reader, oral (receiving), penetration (missionary and doggy), rough sex, pet names (princess, beautiful, etc.), crying, dick drunk reader, daddy kink, eren is a liiiittle pushy and an asshole (just a tiny bit), both of them holding a very weird hatred for each other (idk how else to describe it), unprotected sex (use protection kids)

― synopsis: being the heir of the biggest company in paradis holds it's challenges but no one prepared you for eren yeager

note from pooh: this turned out to be longer than expected lmao, writing smut after a long time is so hard omg i never know what the hell to say, hopefully it's not that obvious. i'm not too happy with it but i'm so over re-writing it at this point hahaha.

WARNING: this is smut, so please ensure you have your age visible on your account before interacting. Minors (below 18+), ageless and blank blogs will be BLOCKED

Hope you enjoy ♡ reblogs are greatly appreciated

“Oh don’t look so glum,” your mother chastised, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Enjoy yourself my love.” Her diamond earrings glistened in the warm candle light cascading from the chandeliers of the grand ballroom. She was an angelic vision in her lilac dusted gown, the same diamonds as the ones in her ears speckled through the fine fabric like dew on flower petals.

You sighed, sipping from your recently refilled glass of white wine. “Easier said than done.” Your gaze moved with the dancing crowd below you, dots of assorted colours and jewellery, black, white, green, pink. You hadn’t seen him yet.

She chuckled at your seriousness. “Do you really think hiding yourself away up in the balcony is going to solve your problems?”

Yes. “What else am I supposed to do?” You sent her a questioning side glance.

“Oh I don’t know… go down there? Dance? Mingle? God forbid you have fun.” She positions herself at your side against the bannister, dress brushing against your own.

Silently you leaned your head on her shoulder, a scent of vanilla and roses floating from her skin. “Is he here?” You whispered as you played with the delicate lace on your sleeves.

“He is.” She replied solemnly, resting her head on top of yours.

Your heart sank as her words solidified your anxiety. Of course he was here, how could he not be?

The man in question was one Eren Yeager, son of Lord Grisha and Lady Carla of Maria. A man who had been a thorn in your side since you were children. Lord Grisha generated his wealth from his medical practices littered across the country, this was valuable to your family, valuable enough to do business with.

Your parents thought it a good idea for you and Eren to become acquainted, being about the same age, maybe something would blossom. Though the only thing that did blossom was the growing hatred between you both. You somehow were always getting on each other’s nerves, so much so that you began to despise him. It started with small childish things, hair pulling, petty fights over trivial topics like who got to have the last of everything, but when you hit adolescence he made it a point to make a snarky comment no matter what you were doing.

“What the hell happened to your face?” He’d scowled at you one afternoon while you lay idly in the grass reading a book. It just so happened to be the same day your mother decided you were old enough to start wearing makeup.

You threw him an irritated look. “It’s makeup.”

“Your mother let you leave the house looking like that?” His shadow covers your face as he leans over you curiously, running a finger along your cheek.

“Piss off Eren!” He laughs as you throw your book at his face, easily dodging the hardback.

It was even worse as you came of age to actually date. He somehow managed to wriggle his way in and meddle with all your potential suitors, spreading rumours, interrupting dances and private conversations. There was a time everyone believed you’d slept with all of your father’s business partners, of course it wasn’t true but that didn’t stop your parents from losing their minds over the allegations. Your reputation was an important one, it was make or break in this dog-eat-dog world you were born into. You never really did find out who or where that rumor came from, but you had a funny feeling Eren had something to do with it.

“Maybe he’ll behave himself now that he’s in public.” Your mother continued.

“Fine I’ll go, but if he says anything out of turn...” You looked to her, finding no trace of disapproval, just her soft features watching the sway of dresses below.

“You’ll be fine.” She shifts to stand upright again before kissing your temple. “What’s the worst that could happen?” She smiles, disappearing through the curtain draped over the entryway of the balcony.

Sighing, you down the last of your wine and readjust the bust of your dress, smoothing over the lace that hung off your shoulders, dress twinkling in the light like stars at dusk. With a deep breath you found your way to the staircase that led onto the ballroom floor, hesitating at the top as you watched a parade of colour flutter by. You had yet to see Yeager, you reassured yourself. And hopefully you’d go the whole night without the misfortune of running into him. As you began your descent your mother’s words echoed through your mind one last time.

What was the worst that could happen?

Foreign and familiar faces welcomed you with curtseys and bows of reverence while you walked through the crowd, head held high and a bright smile on your face, greeting your family’s many business partners.

Being the heir to one of the largest companies in all of Paradis held a lot of responsibility, the primary one, being the picturesque daughter your father sought you out to be. Proper, intelligent and scandal-free. Something that was already hard to do in a sea of people who fed off of gossip.

“Lady y/n.” A kindly voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Could I interest you in a dance?” Jean Kirstein - the newest addition to your fathers growing list of associates- greeted you coyly with a hand outstretched in invitation.

You gave a half-smile “Of course.”

He was a handsome man to say the least, with tousled blond hair and a smile that had butterflies churning in your stomach. His suit was a classic black and white three piece, a teal tie bringing a pop of colour that complimented his alluring hazel eyes.

With one hand in yours and the other securely on your waist, he whisked you out onto the dance floor, taking the lead as he began moving you in time with the music. His gentle gaze never left yours as you floated across the floor effortlessly, touch warm against your hips that he guided in a rhythm that met his own.

“You’re quite good at this aren’t you?” Your playful expression made him chuckle.

“Of course my lady,” he replied, spinning you before continuing. “I had to make a good first impression didn’t I?”

The tempo rose with the changing routine and it was time to switch partners. He laid a soft kiss on your hand before releasing you in another spin, a laugh bubbling in your chest as you landed in the arms of your next partner.

“Good to see you’re enjoying yourself my lady,” your smile faltered as you looked up to see the face of the man you’d so desperately tried to avoid all night. “Don’t look so upset, frowning was never a good look on you?” A smirk hung on his lips as he towered over your smaller frame, loose hairs framing his face as he pinned you with mischievous eyes.

“What are you doing here, Eren?” You spat, feeling your skin tingle where his touch slowly made its way down the small of your back.

A huff left his chest. “I was sent an invitation? Why were you hoping I wouldn’t come?”

“Yes,” you retort. “I was hoping for a night of peace.”

He extended an arm and spun you in place, then roughly pulled you back into his chest. “You and I both know that’s never going to happen.” There was a knowing undertone in his voice, a tone that you knew always held bad intentions.

“Why must you always ruin my night?” You carped, trying your best to maintain your composure. There were too many important people around for you to make a scene and not face the consequences, but the longer he spoke the closer he was to pushing you there.

He dipped you low and your gaze caught Jean’s, who smiled at you softly while dancing with a woman in red. How you yearned to be back in his arms again.

“So you and Kirstein? What’s that about?” Eren nodded to the man in question as he brought you back up again. Your breath nearly left you with how close his lips were to your own, too distracted by that fact you didn’t even register his question.

“What?” Your brows furrowed at him as you took a step back to put some distance between you.

He met you with an icy expression. “Are you and Jean...an item?” He pressed, voice faltering at the end as if it pained him to even say those words. Why did he care?

“No, he’s an associate of my father’s, why does it matter?” You answered honestly, unconsciously moving your hand from his shoulder to his chest, running your index finger over the key shaped pin on his jacket collar.

“You seem awfully fond of someone who cleans horse shit for a living.” You catch him glance over his shoulder to where you could only assume Jean stood, not missing the irritation in his voice.

“He does not,” your hand smacks his chest. “He runs the biggest transport company in the country, horses are just one of his divisions.”

Eren rolls his eyes at your defensiveness. “Oh so you do like him. I didn’t know you enjoyed the smell of horse shi-”

The song comes to an end and you break away from him before you do something you’d regret. You opened your mouth and closed it again, fists balling at your side as everything you ever wanted to say became stuck in your throat. For all the belittling, the mocking and the embarrassment, you wanted to let him have it, but something held you back. Your tongue was stiff as he watched you with an inscrutable expression, waiting for you to break.

Instead your face softens, an equally unreadable expression etched upon your features. “Thank you for the dance Eren, good evening.” You said simply, giving a final curtsey before turning your back to him, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

With a hastened pace you pushed your way through the sea of guests, odd looks cast your way as you haphazardly bumped into a server holding champagne, making you lose your balance. The glasses clattered to the floor with a loud shatter, most of it spilling on your dress in the commotion as you landed on your hands and knees in the liquid. The crowd around you gasped and sneered, encircling your distressed figure on the floor, apologetic and frantically searching for an exit. You saw Eren among them, a taunting glint in his eyes, as if he enjoyed seeing you like this. Beneath him.

You were mortified.

“Y/n! Are you alright?” Jean’s voice broke your fixed gaze. The man knelt down to help you up, but to his surprise you tore your hand from his, offered him a pained smile and curtsied half-heartedly.

“Excuse me.” You choked before speeding up the staircase, uncaring of the array of murmurs and snickers that followed your abrupt and dramatic exit.

This was his fault, Eren fucking Yeager. You cursed as your feet blistered in the tall heels you’d been wearing the whole night, reduced to hobbling down the long hallway, body sticky and damp from alcohol. This was the worst that could happen, you thought. As if being ridiculed wasn’t enough he had to go and add insult to injury with his stupid fucking face mocking you from the crowd.

Was this his plan? To rile you up so much that you’d slip up in front of everyone that was important to you? To your family?

“Fucking Yeager!” You growl, stepping into your room and slamming the door shut behind you. You began pulling pins from your hair tossing them onto your vanity in frustration, strands falling over your shoulders as you kicked off your shoes in the process. You were done with this evening, with everyone and everything associated with it.

As you finally tore the last pin from your now disheveled curls you heard a knock at your door. “I’m not accepting guests at this time!” You called out, frustrated with the ties on your dress. There was silence, then another knock. “Go away!” A string of curses fall from your lips as your fingers continue to slip against the silky fabric. “This couldn’t possibly get any worse.” You sigh. Then you heard your door open. “I said go away-!”

The source of your fury stood leant against the door frame, an arrogant aura emanating from his figure as he watched you struggle to undress. “How unladylike-”

The shoes you had discarded on the floor found their way into your hands and you aimed for his head, disappointed when he narrowly dodges the object. “Get out!” You glowered at him, other shoe in hand ready to throw.

He gave you an incredulous look, smoothing the loose strands on his forehead displaced due to evading your attack. “Are you insane?!” He shouts, picking up the shoe you’d just tossed at his face.

You threw the other shoe, this time at his groin, to which again he narrowly dodged. “Have you not had enough of making a fool of me today? You had to come up here to see your work first hand?” You’d given up on your calm façade, letting your emotions spill as you saw fit in the privacy of your room.

“You’re blaming me for that disaster?” He brayed, both of your shoes now in his palms.

“Of course this is your fault!” You spat callously. “The constant degrading, the fucking agony you put me through every event. You love to humiliate me every chance you get! And for what? Your own twisted sense of humour?” Your chest heaved as you found yourself mere inches from him, breast almost against his in your fit of rage, defeated tears spilling down your flushed cheeks.

You hated to cry, especially in front of Eren but at this point you couldn’t think of anything else to do. The pained attempt to stop the tears from falling ended in hundred more flooding out, you couldn’t bottle it all up anymore, not this time.

Silence filled the room, save your shallow shaky breaths and his deep ones. His face was once again unreadable, eyes scouring yours, for what, you didn’t know. Abandoning your shoes on the floor, his hand brushed a stray lock of hair that curled at your collarbone, grazing the skin there as his now softened gaze lowered to your lips, then back to your watery-eyed glare. The touch set goosebumps upon your skin as he continued up your neck to your jaw, wiping a thumb over your tear stained cheek.

“Let me make it better.” He breathed onto your lips, pleading eyes piercing into yours. His thumb traced your bottom lip tenderly, time slowing as his own met yours. He walked you backward further into your bedroom by your hips, closing the door behind him with an audible sound that reverberated off the hinges. His hand shifted to caress the back of your neck, pulling you into him further to deepen the kiss, moulding against your lips as he used his other hand to loosen the knot in the ties of your dress.

When the back of your knees hit your bed you parted, out of breath and thinking a bit clearly. “Eren,” you sighed, forehead against his as your breathing fell in time with one another. “Please, we-” He places a kiss on your cheek, turning you around to have better access to the back of your dress.

“Shh.” He whispers. His fingers pry the ties free and from their loops and he watches your body visibly relax, finally released from the confines of the material. Softly he pulls the fabric from your arms and down your waist till it became a pool of colour on the carpeted floor. His jacket and tie join it as he flicked the first few buttons of his shirt open to expose the tanned expanse of his chest.

You felt oddly vulnerable in your underwear, even if this wasn’t the first time he’d seen you this way, his gaze still painted a flush upon your skin. Instinctually your arms came up to cover your bare chest, breasts almost spilling from between them.

He chuckles, neck lowering to plant a kiss on your shoulder as he smooths a hand over your stomach. “I’ve seen you like this plenty of times but you still hide from me.”

His fingers played with the waistband of your panties mindlessly, lips continuing their way up your shoulder. The heat of his touch has your mind going fuzzy, losing yourself in the way his hands trailed over your skin, familiar with every mark, every crevasse, every curve your body had to offer. Your lips part in a gasp as he bites into the soft flesh of your neck, sucking a dark bruise into the skin. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this.”

He turns you back around to face him, pushing you onto the mattress softly. His hips nestle between your thighs as his body envelops yours, pressing his hard-on against your clothed pussy.

“Eren.” With a sigh your hips squirm beneath his, attempting to ease the arousal rapidly pooling at your core.

“Yes, sweetheart?” You lose your voice at the way his mouth paths down your collarbone, laving marks into the depths of your skin. His hands find yours still covering your chest and pries them away, entwining your fingers to pin your hands above your head. Beneath his intense gaze the flush on your skin deepened, struggling to keep still while your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. He looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Y/n.” He whispers mindlessly against your skin. Before you could answer him a gasp caught in your throat as his tongue encircled your nipple. He released your hands to cup your tits, rolling the other bud between his thumb and forefinger. “Keep them there.”

Your back arched unconsciously, rubbing yourself against his cock — still uncomfortably strained against the zipper of his trousers — causing a deep groan to sound from his throat, the sound alone making your clit throb.

“Fuck, Eren.” Digging your nails into your palms you struggled to keep them above your head, as you whined. It was embarrassing the amount of power he had over you, the way a simple flick of his tongue birthed an impossible ache between your thighs. After doing this with him for this long you’d think it’d have worn off by now.

“That’s it beautiful, say my name.” He coos, continuing his assault down to your thighs. His fingers curl around your panties and guide them down your legs, letting it join your dress on the floor.

A breathy moan escaped you as he wastes no time drawing a long strip from your entrance to your clit, moaning at the way your arousal danced on his tongue. Pushing your thighs apart he did it again, dipping his tongue into you this time to gage your reaction.

Those sweet sounds he craved for weeks finally fell freely from your lips, like music to his ears. He drank in every gasp and every whimper as your head lulled back and your back arched, still obeying his instruction as your fingers dug into the bedsheets.

His cock twitched as you began rocking your hips into his face, matching the pace of his tongue fucking into your dripping cunt. How did he always end up here? Back in this position, on his knees, between your legs, savouring the way you tasted like it was the last time he’d ever get to experience it. How tightly did you have him wound around your finger? Pretty damn tight apparently. As much as he tried to deny it, push you away with insults, humiliation and bickering he always found himself here, worshipping your pussy.

He hated you for it.

“’Ren, please. Please, please, please, fuck.” Your thighs strained against his hold, trembling as you continued fucking his face.

Fuck, he could listen to you beg forever. “What do you want princess?” He asked in a husky tone, planting tender a kiss on your inner thigh. His eyes were glazed over, a deeper green than they were on the dancefloor. Fingertips ghosted your entrance as he waited for your reply, his breath on your clit making you clench around nothing.

“I need you... I need you inside me, please.” You panted desperately.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath as you open your legs wider for him. “Look how wet you are.” The way your arousal dripped down your ass and onto the sheets made his mouth water, the view never got old. Reluctantly pulling away from you he finally rids himself of his clothes, sighing softly as he finally frees his cock from the confines of his pants.

The sight had your mind reeling. He reminded you of an art piece, like marble where the finest detail was carved to perfection. His skin glowed in the candle light, glistening in a thin veil of sweat with your arousal still on his lips — rosy and plush. Muscles pulsed as he reached behind his head to pull the band in his hair, freeing a cascade of long dark hair onto his back and shoulders.

He hovers over you, lips ghosting yours as he guides his cock through your folds with a hiss. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I’d hope so.” You reply with a cheeky grin, laying a kiss on his chin.

You yelp as his hand slaps your ass harshly, the sound reverberating off the walls. There was a handprint now burning red on your ass. “What was that for?” You hiss, trying to move your hips away but find them pinned to the mattress under his weight.

He bites your neck in reply. “For being rude.”

“Oh, piss off.” He raises a warning brow as you roll your eyes.

Again he smacks your ass as punishment, this time harder in the same place. “Do that one more time, see what happens.”

The sting of your ass seemed to have clouded your judgement as you proceeded to take him up on that challenge. “Fuck yo-!”

Before you could finish your rebuttal he shoves his cock into you without warning, completely filling you to the hilt. Your hands find his shoulders instinctively, embedding crescent shaped marks into his skin. The sound you made was a mix between a gasp and a moan, both in shock and pleasure at the sudden intrusion.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” Eren chuckles beside your ear, smirk evident in his tone.

A shaky breath leaves your chest. “I hate you.” You grumble in reply, the words coming out breathier than intended.

He shifts to rest his forehead against yours, a shit-eating grin still on his face. “If you hate me so much…” The pause is met with a harsh thrust of his hips, sending another moan tumbling from your lips. “Then why am I the only one that’s able to have you like this?” Your breath hicks as he repeats the same action, nose brushing his as he moved.

You didn’t have a real answer, it’s not like you didn’t seek sex from other partners, you did, but none of them could compare to the man before you. There was something comforting in how he knew your body inside and out, your expressions, the way your skin flushed under his touch, every moan and stutter. You trusted him with your body as he did you with his, but in doing so it fed into an addiction, one that could only be satisfied by Eren.

“Who said you were the only one?” You teased back.

His breath hit your nose as he huffed out a laugh. “No one can make you feel the way I do. Admit it.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself. Anyone can do what you do, you’re not special.”

“Oh really?” His cock twitches inside of you, hips moving at an agonisingly slow pace. “Like who?”

“O-others, why do you need to know?” You stutter out, unable to draw a realistic name from the top of your head.

“I’d like to know who my competition is. That is if they even exist.” Your skin tingles as his nose traces the curve on your cheek. Eren knew exactly what that stutter meant. You were a liar. But that didn’t make going along with it any less entertaining.

“Of course they exis- fuck!” Pleasure overwhelms you as he hits a familiar spot, fingers playing with your clit as he continued his strokes.

“Mmm.” He groans against your cheek. “You know how much I hate lies, y/n.” His pace doesn’t let up as he speaks, fingers and cock moving in time with one another, a sweet harmony that had you struggling to maintain your fragile composure.

“I’m not-”

Spank.

“Stop lying to me sweetheart,” he warns again, upping the pressure on your clit. “Who’s the only one that can make you feel like this?” You could barely think, let alone speak as he continued his ministrations. Your pussy was a sopping mess, so much so that the lewd sound of your wet cunt taking his cock was audible with every delicious stroke.

Your breath fanned against his neck, hot and fast between moans and whines. The longer this went on the quicker your resolve dissipated and soon you were at his mercy. “You ‘Ren, it’s you.”

“I’m sorry?” He smiles, leaning his ear to your lips. “Say it again I don’t think I heard you.”

“Fuck, you’re the only one who can make me feel like this ‘Ren.” You repeat begrudgingly between breaths.

“Good girl.” With a kiss to your cheek he leans back on his heels, letting his cock slip out of you. “Turn over for me.”

Obediently you flip over on your hands and knees, chest brushing the mattress as you position your ass in the air. You feel him move over you, watching as he retrieves two pillows at the head of the bed to place under your hips, to which you happily lay on.

His hands slip themselves into the crease where your hips met your thighs, memorising the way your back arched in this position. He proceeds to run his thumbs over the small of your back, parallel to your spine before his grip tightens slightly and he’s pushing your hips into the pillows. Slowly he eases into you, moaning at the way your pussy engulfed him eagerly, tightening as inch by inch he drew deeper.

"Holy fuck, ‘Ren!” You cry, nails clawing the sheets. It was like he was in your stomach, if that was even possible.

His tongue paths its way up your spine, leaving spaced open mouth kisses on your skin till he reaches your ear. “Does that feel good princess?”

You could only moan in response, heavy breaths wafting your hair that had fallen over your face. He wasn’t even moving but he still managed to turn your brain to mush.

With a chuckle he pecks your shoulder. “I can’t hear you.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” His hips shift slightly, drawing a string of whines from your throat. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Mhm.” The weight of his body leaves yours as he sits back up, pausing to give your ass a squeeze. “And what if I move like this?” His hips draw back slowly before pushing back into you with a force that almost knocked the breath out of you. “That feel good too, baby?”

“Yes, fuck it feels so good, daddy.”

That was all the confirmation he needed to let go and fuck you into the bed the way he knew you loved. Hard and rough. Using your back as leverage he pressed into your skin, grip tight around your waist as he watched your ass ripple with every slap of his hips against your own.

You were so damn intoxicating it wasn’t even a joke anymore. There were days he’d actually miss this, miss you. Your face, your scent, your taste, how your pussy felt as it squeezed him at every inch, it was like you were made for him and vice versa. He’d never actually tell you any of that though.

This wasn’t love. It was sex, reoccurring mind blowing sex. Or so he continued to tell himself.

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes, yes!” By the way your toes curled he knew he was hitting that sweet spot along your walls. Satisfaction swelled in his chest at your cock drunk form scrunching the sheets between your fingers, losing your voice in the pleasure surging through your body.

“That’s it sweetheart.” Cooing, he slows his pace to pin your hands behind your back, trapping your wrists in one hand and using the other to play with your clit. “You love this dick don’t you?”

Mindlessly you reply. “Yes daddy, so deep in my pussy.” At this point you would say anything, do anything if he asked you to. With the way his dick kissed that spot inside you over and over it was hard not to lose yourself, to let your eyes roll back and just take it.

“You feel so good princess, fuck you take me so well.” He looks down to where your bodies met, almost cumming at the sight of you creaming all over his cock. Your nails were digging into the back of his hand that still pinned your hands to the small of your back, grip tightening as your thighs tensed.

“I’m gonna cum, I-I’m gonna cum.” You whine with a hick.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum all over this dick.” He wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer as you grew tighter with each passing stroke, but he needed you to cum first, he needed to watch you come undone on his cock.

“Eren!” You hold onto his hand for dear life as you fall over the edge, your whole body tightening as Eren fucks you through your orgasm, fingers still softly caressing your clit.

“Good girl, that’s it.” He praises, out of breath, soon following with his own high. White hot ropes of cum painted your insides as a variation of your name fell from his lips in an incoherent mess. Normally he’d never be caught dead cumming inside if it was any one else but because it was you he bent that rule.

You groan softly as your body grew heavy, sinking into the soft mattress. Almost ready to pass out then and there you feel Eren shuffle behind you, moaning as his cock slides against your walls, slowly drawing from your warmth.

He falls onto his back beside you with a sigh. “Come here.”

“Mmm.” You groan, still fucked out and limp with flattened pillows under your hips probably damp with his cum as you felt it leak from your hole.

He clicks his tongue and pulls you forward effortlessly by your arm, cradling you in his side. There was a long silence as you both lay there listening to the rhythm of each others breaths, content in the comfort you had both built after months of this routine.

When all this first began you refused to even look at each other after the fact, getting dressed and leaving the room immediately. But one drunken night when you woke up to find him still there beside you, arm around your waist and pulled into his chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. It soon became normal for you to lay like this, naked and vulnerable, listening to his heart beat.

“You okay?” He questions, still looking up at the ceiling.

“Tired.” You sigh softly. Your fingers traced the grooves of his chest, circling his pectoral mindlessly.

He exhales heavily. “Feel better?”

With a chuckle you trail your finger down his abdomen. “A little.”

The look he throws you has your smile grow wider. “Only a little?” He turns on his side, resting his head on his hand. “Still lying to me.”

“Gonna have to try a little harder than that, Yeager.” Teasingly you tap his nose, laughing at the way he frowns at your simple gesture.

He caresses your face with his free hand, running a thumb over your rosy lips. “You really think I don’t know you after all these years?” The question was longing, like he was reminiscing every encounter you two ever had.

“I didn’t think you paid that much attention after all these years.” You roll your eyes playfully.

“I’m observant.”

“You’re a nuisance.” You corrected, but despite your insult the smile never left your face.

“You love me.” The rebuttal caught you off guard, unsure if he was joking or not as his tone remained serious.

“Are you drunk, Yeager? Why would I ever love you?”

His face draws toward yours knowingly. “You wouldn’t still be here if you didn’t.”

“I-I could say the same for you.” You deflect, gesturing to his figure.

Did he really want to admit his feelings for you, after having pushed them down for so long? Did he even have feelings for you? When he saw you on the dancefloor for the first time tonight his stomach erupted in a flutter of butterflies. Not to mention when he watched the way you smiled and laughed with Jean. Who the fuck was he anyway? Some corporate kiss-ass who shovelled shit for a living. Transport, what was Jean’s transport company compared to the medical empire Eren was managing? Is that what impressed you? What you liked? He followed the way Jean’s hands glided along your body, like he knew where to touch you, how to make you…

“Eren.” Your soft voice breaks him from deep thought. You look at him with those eyes you do, the ones that somehow manage to break his resolve every time.

“Let’s get you to a bath.” He smiles at you sadly, laying a kiss on your forehead and getting up from the bed. His fingers rake through dishevelled hair before offering you an outstretched hand.

You witnessed the way his green eyes dulled as they bore into yours sullenly. His expression was placid, unreadable as it always was when he decided to shut you out, an action you’d become all too familiar with as you came back to the reality of the situation.

Not wanting to question him on it you take his hand. “Lead the way.”

PART TWO

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middlingmay · 9 days

Text

Gale meets drunk Bucky AU

Gale discovered the height of hypocrisy when his mother told him, "Don't you never take up with no drinking man. Bring you nothin' but hurt, Gale Cleven."

The she'd watch his father raid their spare change jars, her jewellery drawer, and drink bottle after bottle, and rattle Gale's head of the wall when the little boy had dared to say enough and tried to stop daddy from ruining everything, but ruining himself most of all.

And she'd swallow James Cleven's apologies in the morning.

But hypocrisy or not, Gale vowed to obey those words of his mother.

When he was older and gone from his parents' house - from their lives - and those boys sidled up to him to buy him drinks? Gale stared down his slender nose with a look so cold, they slinked off with their tail between their legs. Better they think him a stuck up son of a bitch before the booze turned their words harsh and their grips cruel.

Those friends who sneered at him for not going to parties? They weren't his friends for long. If they treated him like that sober, then Gale didn't want to think of how they would treat him drunk.

But he had Rosie and DeMarco and Lemmons and Crosby. And yeah they liked a drink, but they liked his friendship more and they found a balance that worked.

But then he met John "Bucky" Egan.

He was full of bravado and confidence like Gale had never seen before. It wasn't arrogant or pushy. It was...encompassing, warming, inviting. Like he was ordering it to rub off on ya so you could feel good too.

Crosby had mentioned his friend Curt and his friend Bucky and he'd laughed and said, "You'd hate him, Gale."

And Gale didn't like to think of himself as a hateful person, so he agreed to tag along and meet Crosby's friends.

He met a short New Yorker with a meaty fist he used to tap your shoulder and move people outta your way. And he met a tall man with a head full of fluffy curls and eyes like the night sky in Wyoming, and a wide, soft smile and a face full of freckles and damn wide shoulders -

And a tumbler of whisky in his hand.

But that part of his brain that normally clicked off the second he caught sight or smell of alcohol, just, didn't trip this time. Not around John. Not around Bucky.

Don't get him wrong, with every mouthful, Bucky swore and hollered and jeered with Crosby and Curt, but in the next breath he turned to Gale and spoke easy.

A few more sips and his hands - which were well acquainted with Curt and Croz - crept towards Gale and his knees and his thighs then his shoulders and his neck.

But instead of making Bucky louder or mad or sad or mean, every drink made him softer; let his affection flow more freely. His smiles got wider and his cheeks got rosy and his eyes glittered every time he looked at Gale.

It made Bucky blush and lean into Gale and hum into his ear, "You are the prettiest guy I've ever seen. Look at'cha. It's intolerable. It's rude. Where've they been hiding you?"

"Caspar," he said.

"Well shame on Caspar."

And at the end of the night when Bucky's liquid courage sent him rocking forward and pressing warm, full lips over Gale's own with a gentle breath and a little slip of a sound -

Gale didn't flinch.

Instead, when Bucky blushed again and pulled back looking sheepish, Gale followed and kissed him all sweet like, before jogging to catch up with a jeering Crosby, leaving John standing there like a love-drunk fool.

Crosby shoved him as they walked home. "I thought you didn't like drunks?!"

Gale nudged him with his shoulder. "I don't. I think I just like John."

#gale cleven #john egan #mota #clegan #buck x bucky #masters of the air #headcanon #alternate universe #curtis biddick #harry crosby

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ranposbabe · 2 years

Text

Wine settles the nerves | Aegon II Targaryen x implied Strong!Reader

A/N: As I am not fluent in Valyrian, please excuse any mistakes in the translations etc, thank you !

“Ah six years since we’ve last seen our blood my dear brother.” You sigh as you walk along side the quiet dark haired lad.

“Cheerful are you ?” Jace inquires with a slight smirk forming. “Oh Jace ! Please enlighten me !” You laugh, pulling at your elder brothers arm. “If you had it your way we would’ve never of left Dragonstone, y/n.”

“Lyka” (Quiet) You tease, giving him a playful punch to the shoulder. “What does that word mean again ?” Jace wonders, raising a brow. You simply scoff before turning to run off only to be chased by him. “It’s not my fault you somehow manage to be skilled speaking our mother tongue !”

Oh how the roar of your laughter could’ve been heard throughout the seven kingdoms.

Time Skip…

You were late. You can recall so vividly how your mother, the realm’s delight softly scolding you on any occasion for never arriving on time while your father figure Daemon sat back surprisingly for once holding back his laugh.

But now here you were practically running to the throne room with your small heels clicking against the ground and your black and red dress slightly swooshing away. The same exact dress your mother gave you some time ago, that she once wore years ago where she had slaughtered some boar.

But you knew how important this was.

Your younger brother Lukes right to Driftmark was being questioned and you would not just stand aside and not let your support for him be unknown.

As you slyly snuck by your cousins Beala and Rhaena you hear

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son Lucerys Velaryion “ Spoke the sneaky hand of the king.

“Where have you been ?” Jace asks, tilting his head. Your mother spared you a glance before walking up front to address everyone. It was only truly now in the moment you could take in the scene before you. You swore to keep your head low out of respect yet your curious eyes betrayed you as you scan right over to the gleaming light that was green.

It had only been half a decade since you last seen your aunt and uncles yet it felt like a century. Years back before Vhagar’s now rider had lost his eye, you had gotten along quite well with the young boy and his older sister.

However the same could not of been said for Aegon. He always had his nose stuck in a cup drinking and it bored you nonetheless. You can recall multiple occasions where you repeatingly stole this cup and then ran round the yard forcing him to chase you while he slightly struggled due to the wine intake.

As the young prince seemed so desperate for the precious cup you had made a joke how he should have the blacksmiths make him the finest jewellery out of the cup so the chances of it being stolen again was unlikely.

The last time you had seen Aegon before returning to Dragonstone, he placed a ring on a string and practically flung it at you and called it a day. Yet when you actually had the chance to study the “necklace” you couldn’t help but notice the striking resemblance its appearance had to the cup he had chased you for.

“Well ?” Jace says, impatiently waiting for your response. Your eyes were practicing glued to the sight of the greens. They all stood tall, especially Aemond who now wore a patch over his lost eye yet your eyes couldn’t move away from his older brother who’s hair was now cut and lacked the vibrant curls they once had. He seemed to have not noticed your stare as he himself stared off almost as if he was deprived whether it be sleep or alcohol or both you were unsure.

You turn to your brother who seemed to be the only one noticing your longing gaze yet made no comment about it.

“I was just-

Just then the booming noise of the doors opening rang through the room and a guard called out the titlements of your grandsire. At the sudden loud noise you gasp, instantly hiding behind the rogue prince like a small child. Daemon takes notice of this and sends his kind smile your way.

You couldn’t help but admire not only your grandsire but also your king as even at his weakness still came to defend not only Lucerys but you and your mother as well.

As usual at any gathering suddenly events took a turn and Daemon killed Vaemond Velaryon in front of you all. You cower back into your mothers arms as she drapes her arm protectively over you knowing you couldn’t bare the gruesome sight.

You were late. Again.

The king ordered for a family dinner where everyone where to be present and yet suddenly the dreaded thought dawned on you that you would see everyone again. You were definitely in need of a confidence boost. As you stood in the dark corridor you shakingly run your hands continuously over your dress your eye catches a serving girl with cups of wine on her plate. “Excuse me !” You call to the serving girl.

“Where is y/n ?” Viserys croaked, slowly tilting his head towards Rhaenyra. Although the music continued, everyone stopped to raise their head to notice the empty seat next to Baela. “Rhaenyra.” Alicent spoke softly. “Where is she ?” She inquires.

The others dip back to their fallen conversations but Rhaenyra breaths stop for a brief moment. She doesn’t know where you exactly are and when she shares a glance with Daemon she learns that he doesn’t know either.

“My my everyone’s already here !”

You bow respectfully while trying not to trip before your king and then place a gentle kiss on your grandsire cheek and make your way to your empty seat. Of course completely missing the horrified look on the queens face and the confusion on your poor mothers. Everyone had already began drinking and could tell you started before them all. Luke couldn’t help but laugh as you simply sat down and smiled while being completely dazed. “y/n ? Are you alright ?” Baela asked, despite knowing the answer.

“Yes.” You chirped. “Indeed I am, cousin.” You smile, patting the Velaryon girls hand.

Your eyes regretfully turn to face in front of you to see Daemon like Luke, finding amusement in your state while your mother gives you that look that she gives in her eyes to say we’ll talk later.

Avoiding her stare, you turn to face Luke to indulge in conversation while not even noticing the silver head at the opposite end of the table staring your way. Soon, out of the corner of your eye you see Aegon speaking to your brother and you can’t help but wonder. If Aegon had no problem engaging in simple conversation with the others than what had set you apart from the rest ?

As soon as Jace got up to dance with Helaena, you unsteadily slipped out of your chair and stole Jaces seat, taking the spot next to the elder prince.

“Uncle ?” You whisper, all of a sudden becoming timid. It was as if the wine was instantly drained from your system.

“You have grown, niece.” He spoke rather coldly, reaching for his cup.

“Can’t you at least spare me a glance ?” You say, snatching the cup from him.

Aegon huffs as he sunk down into his chair , slowly tilting his head to you. His tired eyes meet yours and yet suddenly it feels too intimate.

You raise a brow as suddenly his eyes widen and he sits up straighter in his chair and his just then his hand reaches for your neck.

“You’re wearing it.” He mutters in disbelief.

“What ?” You question, looking down to see his fingers clutching the ring attached to your necklace. You can practically feel the queen’s eyes burning into you like a dragons breath yet you’re currently struggling to meet Aegon’s eyes let alone his mothers.

“Aegon I-

Instantly there’s a loud bang.

Your eyes momentarily meets that of the rider of the largest dragon and there he stood with a cup in his hand.

“Final tribute.” He confidently spoke.

“To the health of my nephews.”

You can’t help but be slightly relieved that Aemond completely disregarded your presence. You knew what was to come so to avoid the madness you stood up quietly leaving behind you could hear Jace daring Aemond to repeat himself. No more did you want to hear.

Time Skip…

After taking some needed fresh air, you decided that it was time to head back inside and face your mother as you could already imagine what she would say.

No more dragon riding !

You knew that you were suppose to be accompanied by a guard while outside yet since the wine was now drained from your system you could no longer feel the urge to hold a conversation. You let out a tiresome sigh and as you turn you gasp as suddenly a hand grabs your wrist. You calm as you notice it was only the silver head prince himself.

“Skorion jaelagon a ?” (What you want ?) You sigh, trying to pull away.

“Dohaeriakson raqan.” (I like to be served) He whispered, pulling you closer by the waist. “Struggled to find a servant girl did you, my prince ?” You wonder, tilting your head slightly.

“Earlier you were practically begging for my attention, now here you are acting like it’s the other way around.”

“That is due to the fact I am no longer persuaded by wine.”

“I saw the way you looked at me in the throne room, y/n.” He says, hiding in your neck before sneakingly placing a kiss under your jaw. Your eyes can’t help but widen at his words. You were sure that he hadn’t of seen you yet you clearly stood mistaken.

“You think that strong boy was the only one who caught that look ?” You can practically feel his smirk pressed against your skin. “Don’t call him that.” You groan, rolling your eyes at the typical comment.

“Do you feel that ?” He whispers, dragging your hand down low. Despite him removing his hand, yours lingers for a few more seconds. “That is for no serving girl.” He proudly claims. “How honoured I am.” You laugh.

“You’ve really kept it after all this time ?” He asks with an almost pleading look evident in his eyes as he stares down at your necklace. “Of course.” You mutter, slightly playing with the string.

Slowly but surely you find yourself moving closer, craving to be in his presence just like before and maybe to even-

“What’s going on here ?”

You turn round, horrified to see the sight of your own mother standing there with a guard behind her. “M-mother I-“ You stutter, not able to comprehend what was happening. “y/n we are to be heading back to Dragonstone. We cannot waste another moment here.” Rhaenyra states, glaring at her half brother.

“Please escort the princess back to her brothers.” Rhaenyra ordered the guard. Your head hangs low as you head back with the guard, tears already welling up in your eyes. Rhaenyra steps closer to the younger Targaryen. “Whatever happened here, ends now.” She promises.

“We’ll see about that.” Aegon smirks.

No more dragon riding !

#hotd spoilers #house of the dragon #reader insert #x reader #hotd 1x08 #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #house targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader

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rinrinx2 · 8 months

Note

Hey rinrin ^^

I wanted to ask if you would do me a request about prisoner!ran x lawyer/prosecutor! Reader

You’re ran his (step-)sister and didn’t want to be in his case cause you don’t get along well with ran but your boss forced you and now you stand in front of his cell and talk with him about his case but it doesn’t end by just talking.

Could you maybe do this nfsw?

Prison pleasures

Ran x reader

Warnings: Language, prison s€x against the bars, p0rn with a plot

You had always warned your older brother that his actions would have consequences but everytime you’d mention it you were always dismissed with a

“Maybe if you catch a dick you’ll loosen up a bit”

With a snickering Rindou everytime he made the comment.

But now with the tables turned as you stood parallel to your brothers jail cell as he looked up at you from the bed at the back of cell.

“So you gonna stare at me or help me prove my innocence?” Ran questioned as he kept eye contact with you.

Even behind bars he still kept that snarky uptight attitude thinking that he was better than everyone else and it was because of his attitude that caused you to beg your boss not to take your brothers case.

It wasnt a matter of your abilities to defend your brother that you were worried about, if you were able to win the case of a thief who stole a million yen’s worth of jewellery then getting Ran out would be a piece of cake, but you didn’t want to help your brother to get out you wanted the asshole to sit in that cell for as long as possible and maybe fix his attitude.

That attitude that he didn’t even bother hiding when your parents got married.

“You’d think she’d make an effort at her own mothers wedding” you heard Ran whisper to Rindou as you stood with your bouquet next to your mother as the photographer merrily took pictures of what he assumed was a happy family.

And his attitude didn’t get better as step-siblings it in fact only got worst.

“Are these your panties?” Ran asked as he held up the triangle piece of material.

“Yes” seven teen year old you said without much thought.

“God I could jump off a building and whip one of these bad boys out and float gently down to safety, with these parachute panties”

“So you helping or should I go back to my nap”

And your eye twitched at his comment.

“I wanna watch you rot in that cell” you said through gritted teeth as you clutched your brief case tighter witch years of repressed anger coming out.

“You and the whole of Tokyo” Ran said with a snicker as he broke decided to break eye contact and opting to lay on his stone hard bed.

“As much as I want to watch you die in this cell I can’t my boss had a lot riding on this case” you said with a stoic expression trying your best not to give your brother the satisfaction that he would be free soon.

“I can imagine, Mikey needs me so I can only imagine the pickle he must have your boss and his family in right now” Ran said with without a care in the world.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t take my time to get you out” you said with a half smile, you were trying to show that even in this situation that your brother didn’t have dominance that for once it was you.

You had the power, you controlled whether he was able to walk out and when he would.

You didn’t even realise the effect your comment had made as you barely noticed that Ran had stood up from his bed walking over to the cell bars where you stood.

“I don’t think you wanna waste time getting me out” Ran said as he peered down at your figure.

“And why wouldn’t I want to waste your time” you said trying to stand your ground.

“You really think you can stand like that, like I don’t have an effect on you” Ran said with a smirk as he pushed his nimble hands through the bars placing them on your chin.

“You don’t” you replied removing his hands off of you.

“I do” Ran said as his hand went around your waist catching by surprise.

“And I know I do, because now you’re breathing faster, you’re taking deeper breathes and your pupils are dilating”

And with his words did you realise he was right he did effect you even if you didn’t want him to.

“Come on as much as you hate me I know I make you excited” Ran said as he moved his face closer to the bars as he looked down at you.

“Those walls at home are sturdy but they’re not sound proof, I use to hear you loud and clear every night as teenagers”

You bit down hard on your teeth trying your best not to show how flustered you were from Ran’s words.

And as much as you didn’t want Ran to be right you knew he was, you had in fact use to touch yourself to the thought of your step brother as much as you dreaded him. You weren’t sure why you felt attracted to him maybe it was how much he towered over you or maybe it was his self assured ego that drove you to feel flustered.

“Don’t get all pouty with me, you want my baby girl it’s natural”

You felt as Ran’s hands moved from your face outlining each curve till he was met with the mounds of your breasts giving them a firm squeeze that caused a breath of air to escape from your lips.

And you tried your best to compose yourself, trying you best to put on your unbothered facade but as your eyes once again met with Ran’s you were met with something you’ve never seen before.

His lilac eyes were now covered by black as his pupils dilated to its max, his gaze intense like a hunter waiting to capture its prey.

“I like it when you make those noises” Ran said as he pulled you closer by your waist, now you were squished to the bars but the failing of Ran’s hands on you drove heat to your core.

And within an instant your felt his hands begin to hike up your pencil skirt feeling as the cool air hit your bare thighs.

“Ran I-“

“Just enjoy it” Ran apple cutting you off as his hands now shifted to your pantie massaging your clit through the thin material.

You tried your best to bite back on moans, to both not alert the guards as well as not to have him fully satisfy him.

And the minute you felt as if you were about to release Ran removed his hands.

“Getting to excited now” he said with that same animalistic gaze which was your sign that he wanted it just as much as you.

And then suddenly your felt a warm appendage poking at you womanhood.

“Time to make those fantasies come true. Turn around and bend over” Ran commanded and before you could protest it Ran spoke again.

“Do it, don’t make me repeat myself”

And just as Ran commanded you did.

Turning yourself around feeling as Ran’s harden cock poked at your wet panties.

And like some pray being answered you felt as he shifted your panties to the side and slipping the tip in .

“Fuck you’re right” Ran moaned at as he slipped himself in the rest of way as you bit your lip holding back moans that begged to be spilt.

Ran began to move his hips back and forth as he fucked you through the bars of his cell.

The cold metal of the bars adding to the pleasure as it contrasted to how hot your pussy wrapped around Ran’s cock.

And your imagination never prepared you for how good Rans dick actually was, the way it judged perfectly against that one spot that your fingers could never reach.

The feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls were making you see stars and soon your felt that urge that had you screaming out for dear life approaching fast.

And Ran felt it too, and then suddenly it happened and you felt as liquid dripped down your thighs as your pussy milked Ran’s cock as he shot hot cum into you.

Ran pulled out with a grunt as he released his dick from your tight cunt. As he shifted your panties back over your cunt keeping his cum deep in your pussy

Tucking his cock back away as you tried your best to compose yourself gripping onto the bars you were just fucked against as Ran sat back down on his cell bed.

Ran watched as you pulled your skirt back down calming your breath as you reached for whatever disregarded briefcase you had.

“That’s why you shouldn’t waste time getting me out of here”

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mrs-illyrian-baby · 3 months

Text

A Prince's Claim | Prince Loki's Favourite Maid AU | Loki x Reader | Drabble 800 words

Thor makes a scene in the banqueting hall and Loki stakes his claim to you.

Warnings: sort of angsty sort of fluffy, possessive Loki, references to d/s relationship

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist | Prince Loki's Favourite Maid AU | Loki Masterlist

You knew your arrangement would get you in trouble, it was inevitable, he had seen you and you'd seen the pain in his eyes, the fear he felt emanating across the banqueting hall. His. That's what he'd said. Only to work his rooms, only to serve him even if there were others. But what could you do? Prince Thor had requested more mead and as desperately as you'd sought for your Prince in that moment he wasn't there to stop his brother from asking.

So you complied, pouring from the jug into the huge goblet and stepping back respectfully. But Prince Thor called you back, examining the pearl buttons on your uniform, the silk, the eyelash lace brushing against the exposed skin on your chest.

"Maid, this uniform, who gave this to you?"

You stuttered unsure while his hand reached out to touch your apron, bright white against the pitch black dress, you had jewellery on, delicate gold around your neck.

"Do what I say, come here and tell me who gave you this!"

You took a slow step forward, clutching the glass pitcher hard enough to make your knuckles hurt.

"This isn't a palace uniform. Who are you?" He looked angry now, a glint of fear in his eyes "I asked you a question. Who are you? Who do you work for?"

"For, the Palace, I work, I work for-"

"Liar" he roared, towering over you, your knees buckled as the pitcher in your hands crashed to the floor, the amber mead splashing up your legs "who do you work for!"

"Prince Loki" you cried, hands over your face "I'm Prince Loki's, please, I work for him, I'm his"

Thor takes a step back "Loki? Loki doesn't have any of his own servants. Loki?"

Behind him Loki entered the banqueting hall, taking in the shocked silence of the court, the expanse of his brother's back and the small black and white ball of fabric on the floor at his feet.

"Brother, this isn't the usual merriment that follows you. What's wrong?"

Thor whipped round and eyed his brother back "this little spy says she was sent by you" he pointed down at the bundle of fabric.

"Please, Prince Loki, I'm not a spy!"

"Kitten?" He pushed past the blonde, a flash of green magic making Thor stumble "What have you done to her you great oaf" he snapped, eyes never leaving yours. Harsh as he words were his eyes were soft, concerned.

"I did nothing, why is this little Maid above her station!? What have you done?" Thor clenched his teeth to hiss at Loki, the rest of the hall staring on silently.

"I've done nothing more than give her my favour" he swept you back to your feet, tucking you behind him so he could turn back to Thor.

"Oh I see now, it's your little Pet from last week. She had sharper claws back then!" He joked making you flush, the memory of that evening, the ears and tail Loki had gifted you for the night. Your little collar still tight around your neck.

Loki's formal attire bunched under your hands as you pressed yourself against his back, forehead in the curve of his spine to hide your face. This was even more degrading than before. All he'd done before is given you a little squeeze under your apron as you poured his drinks. But this. Prince Thor's shouting, the scorching tears marking your face, this was humilation.

The only way to defend yourself, for Loki to defend you, was to admit that this was his idea, his uniform, his rules and you'd happily complied. That in the heat of your arousal you had become his little doll to dress up and toy with, his plaything.

"Thor, brother, I would beseech you to have some decorum infront of our guests, you have also upset the lady" Loki looks around the room at the assembled Court. Thank goodness their mother isn't here. Each guest stares for a second before turning away, looking anywhere but at the Princes. Then he turns to you, wrapping you up in his cape, tucking you under his arm and against his side.

"Lady?" Thor scoffs.

Loki's demeanor is cold, despite the warmth of his embrace.

"Yes, Lady" Loki demands. Thor takes him in, his mischievous brother who has never taken another person seriously in his life. The hard line of his mouth, no longer smiling or teasing and the caress of his hands against the bare arms of the little Maid, a small gold chain glinting under the lace of her collar.

"Oh, brother, you have fa-"

"We're done here, Thor. I'll see you tomorrow, in the stables? Until then" his arm tightened at your waist, sweeping out of the hall murmering his own apologies as he ushered you back to the safety, the solitude and privacy of his chambers.

#Loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki marvel #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki/reader #loki x reader #loki/you #loki x you #loki x female reader #Female reader #loki/female reader

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reysdriver · 9 months

Note

sirius black x pureblood!slytherin!reader where he takes her home for break or for the summer and walburga and Orion are enthralled by her which pisses sirius off for obvious reasons and he distanced himself from her and eventually she confronts him and reassures him

When Sirius brings you home to Grimmauld Place over the winter break and then starts to distance himself, you feel the need to confront him and talk about what's going on — sirius x fem!pureblood!slytherin!reader hurt/comfort

warnings: themes of a toxic/abusive family

words: 0.8k

a/n: I was kinda unsure how to write this one since the family is canonically super abusive to sirius so I'm just kinda pretending they're more just cold and rude to him so I could make this, I hope you like it :)

“Regulus,” You called alongside a knock on his door, pulling his attention away from the book in his hands. “Do you know where Sirius has gone off to?”

He sat up so his back was up against the hard headboard. “He’s probably moping in his room. That’s his favourite thing to do here.”

You would have laughed at that if it weren’t for the fact that you just couldn’t find your boyfriend. “I’ve checked there.” You sighed. “But that’s alright, he’s somewhere around here.”

After thanking Regulus politely—even if he couldn’t help find his brother—you left his bedroom and went back to looking for Sirius.

Over the winter break, you had noticed yourself having to play this one-sided game of hide and seek several times. It was frustrating, especially when you didn’t know why he was so distant. Nevertheless, you kept your head up and just continued the search.

You checked the drawing room and sure enough, there he was, sitting by the window and looking outside. You walked towards Sirius and tapped him on the shoulder to show him what you had wanted to show him in the first place.

“Siri, look at this bracelet your mother gave me. Isn’t it nice? She said I could even have the whole set as a wedding gift eventually!” You said happily, flashing him a silver bracelet adorned with small but shining emeralds.

He flashed a tiny smile, not nearly matching your emotions or genuineness. “Yeah, love, it’s pretty.”

You could tell he obviously didn’t care. Sirius was pretty fashion forward and has been enthusiastic in the past when you’ve shown him new clothes or jewellery, so that excuse couldn’t be used.

Running through different excuses and reasons as to why he was acting this way, you had thought that maybe he was upset that both you and his mother had been thinking about marriage. Insecurity surged throughout your whole body.

You had spoken about marriage before, but it was never more than pillow talk or teasing jokes; was your relationship getting too real for Sirius? Was he upset that you had been talking to his family about your future together? Had he lost his feelings?

The different theories flying around in your head were getting to be too much, and you couldn’t let them go unanswered. You were determined to figure out what was going on as soon as possible.

You sat down on the loveseat with him. You were close to him, but you still gave him enough space in case he wanted it.

“Sirius, what’s wrong?” You asked softly. “You’ve been seeming off lately.”

He just brushed it away. “Nothing’s wrong.”

You knew it was a lie so you kept pressing gently. “I know there’s something that’s upsetting you. Just tell me what it is so we can fix it.”

“I’m fine.” He insisted. “You can go back to hanging out with my parents, maybe they’ll give you my bedroom by the end of the week.”

That stung slightly, but it did at least partially reveal the reason for his recent distance. He was upset that his parents were so taken with you. Of course, you understood that Sirius didn’t have the best relationship with his family, but you had hoped he would be happy seeing you getting along with them. The thought of him being jealous hadn’t even crossed your mind.

You brought a hand to his upper arm and rested it there. You tried speaking softly to make it clear you weren’t judging him at all. “Siri, are you jealous?”

“They like you more than me.”

“They don’t. They’re just happy I’m in Slytherin. They like that they’ll have pureblood grandkids with the most Slytherin lineage as possible.”

“But you like them too.” Sirius said sadly.

“I only like them as much as they like you.” You explained. “If they’re gonna be awful to you, then I don’t like them at all. I can just pretend otherwise in exchange for some priceless family heirlooms.”

There was a smug smile on your face as you shook your bracelet in front of Sirius, causing him to chuckle.

“You’d steal from my family for me?” He asked you with a fake pout.

You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to those soft lips you love so much. “Of course I would. And once we graduate and get the hell away from them, we’ll sell it all and buy a nice house without ever dipping into your uncle’s fortune.”

“Alright.” He sighed overdramatically. “If it’s for a great cause like that, then I think you should go ahead and ask my mother for a tour of all her priceless jewels.”

“I’ll make sure she gives me a nice brooch so we can have a pool, my love.”

#sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius black angst #sirius black fluff #hurt/comfort #marauders era #marauders angst #marauders fluff #xena's requests

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kitkatscabinet · 1 year

Text

Bejeweled

Aegon Targaryen II x f! reader

Summary: You hadn't married Aegon for love but you had thought time would at least endear you to each other. When years pass and he remains stuck in his drinking, whoring ways you decide to make him pay the best way you know how.

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: didn't know where i was going with this and ended up writing whiny sub Aegon: 18+ only, minors scram. never written smut before so if its cringe sorry. Spell check stopped working halfway through so probable errors.

Baby love, I think I've been a little too kind. Didn't notice you walking all over my peace of mind

As a highborn daughter of a lord you'd always known it was your destiny to marry well. To be sold like cattle to the highest bidder, you had long since accepted your lot in life.

So when you had been wed to the first son of the King you had done so without a hint of protest. Your parents hadn't been a love match but they had grown close enough and were on friendly terms. You had known this going in, just as you had heard the less than savoury rumours that surrounded the prince.

You had let it slide when he'd gotten outrageously drunk on your wedding night and the months after when he'd continued to drown in his cups and whores.

All the while you'd continued to play the role of the loyal, loving wife. Pulling his hair from his face, tucking him in when he'd passed out drunk, bending to his every whim in the hopes that maybe he’d finally see you.

It takes two years for you to completely give up, two years two long because after all Puttin' someone first only works when you're in their top five.

Aegon’s 20th name day was a resplendent affair. The Queen had taken it upon herself to ensure her eldest son and heir received the finest of days, even if he didn't deserve it. Deserved or not the festivities had given you the perfect opportunity for subtle retribution.

You had taken it upon yourself to be fashionably late to the banquet, mirroring his own lady mother's entrance to princess Rhaenyra's wedding. The magnificent gown that complimented every inch of your figure a stunning example of your house colours. Not a single inch of Hightower green or Targaryen imagery to be seen.

Hungry eyes of lords and ladies alike followed your figure, drawn to the beauty that had been heavily accentuated by the glittering jewellery that adorned your wrists and neck. Diamonds and pearls that had mostly been gifted to you by your already outrageously drunk husband. The husband that had been too busy eye fucking the poor serving girl to notice your entrance.

It isn't until you take your designated seat beside your husband does Aegon notice your form. Eyes widening comically as you grasp the newly filled cup from his hands and bring it to your own painted red lips.

A wicked sense of satisfaction fills your chest its tendrils curling around your heart as you notice how absolutely entranced the drunkard has become with you. Aegon's lips are parted with desire as his eyes greedily drink in what he believes to be his present. Your raise the glass once more to hide the vindictive smirk that has slithered its way onto your face as you think

Best believe I'm still bejeweled. When I walk in the room. I can still make the whole place shimmer. Aegon had taken so much from you, but your body, your beauty was still yours.

You don't stay seated for long as jaunty music fills the hall in a tune you had always been particularly fond of. Fingers lightly trailing over Aegon's shoulders as you make your way to the dancefloor. Your husband had never been one to entertain your desire to do so, and now you were determined to make him watch as another man placed his hands on what he thought was his.

As you made your way into the dancing crowd your husband was forced to watch as you laughed in delight, spinning between the various lords that had all but tripped over themselves to be by your side.

Aemond had regaled you with tales of what it felt like to ride the legendary Vhagar and whilst you had never experienced the rush of dragon riding yourself you could only assume it felt something akin to your current delight. The burning fire of your blood as you witnessed Aegon's scowl turning into something darker. The power that thrummed through your veins as you forced your husband to watch as his nephews clutched at your waist. Not even his brother had been spared from your devious clutches, half-lidded eye and head following your retreating form as you moved to your next plaything.

Alas, that seemed to be the final straw for Aegon as he swiftly made his way to your side with a jaw clenched so hard you wondered how his teeth didn't crack. The grip with which he grabbed you was bruising though you refused to allow your discomfort to show, chin raised high as you looked into furious violet eyes.

"What, do you think you're doing, wife" he hissed into your ear all vitriol and gnashing teeth. Feigning confusion, you furrow your brows before running a delicate hand over his face.

"Whatever do you mean husband? I simply wished to dance, you've never shown any interest before and I didn't want to bother you and your serving girls." The illusion you had tried to maintain instantly shattered as your own venom leaked through.

It is Aegon's turn to be slightly taken aback then, you'd never so much as hinted your displeasure for his proclivities before. He'd never witnessed anything other than your kind doting and blind eyes to his lecherous ways. The sheer surprise in his countenance has you scoffing and pushing back an ugly bubble of laughter.

"Don't look so surprised husband" you hiss, "familiarity breeds contempt." Your rage fades into something more melancholy as you realise it is indeed the familiarity you had allowed yourself with him that has you so angry.

You had only ever brought up your fury once before in a drunken haze when you had begged him not to put you in the basement when you wanted the penthouse of his heart.

To your eternal luck, the song ended before either of you had the opportunity to speak again and you were pulled away by a brave or suicidal lord for the next.

Forcing back the tears and pushing a smile onto your face you eagerly took the lord's hand. You spent the rest of the night avoiding Aegon's presence, surrounded by lords and ladies more than willing to keep you company. Diamonds in my eyes I polish up real, I polish up real nice.

Your sudden desire to entertain anyone other than your husband doesn't end with the celebrations. When Aegon confronts you once more, a week after you stop mothering him you simply say "baby boy, I think I've been too good of a girl." You run a thumb over his lips before turning to make your escape, I think it's time to teach some lessons.

By now the residents of King's Landing court were more than aware of your sudden cold treatment of the prince. None more so than the men and women that had found themselves on the recieving end of your attention. Light touches with your rind adorned hands and whispers into ears with lips lingering a little too closely to be proper. Helaena and Aemond were the most popular recipients of your affection, the starved pair eagerly basking in the glory of your love.

Aegon, who had attempted to appear nonchalant at your sudden interest in the lords and ladies of the courts had eventually become furious.

It came to a head when Aegon had stalked into your room, obviously drunk, to see you curled up in Helaena's lap as she read through the newly update encyclopedia of instects you had gifted her. The following acidic conversation had quickly devolved into a screaming match that had you ushering an overwhelmed Helaena to safety.

Every nasty thought you had been holding in finally erupted once the sweet girl was out of the crossfire and the doors to your chambers slammed shut.

"My brother wasn't enough for you, you're fucking my sister now?" he sneered, wine spilling over his hand and adding to the various stains adorning his once white shirt.

Tears of fury burn the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, to give the bastard in front of you the satisfaction. Scoffing you stalked towards him, remaining out of striking distance but more than ready to rain your own hell down on him.

"What would it matter if I did?" you hissed defiantly, the ugly part of you still determined to make him hurt.

"You're my wife! You belong to me" he shrieked back, and that was your final straw. Feet swiftly closing the small gap between the two of you as your open palm connected with the skin of his cheek. The force left your hand stinging but you couldn't drag your eyes off the reddening skin of his pale skin. Pained shock covered his face as he clutched at the affected area.

"You're my husband, you're supposed to belong to me!" you retaliated trying desperately to ignore the gathering tears in his eyes. "I made you my world! I gave you all my pieces until I didn't even recognise myself anymore!"

The sapphire tears that you had so desperately been trying to keep at bay streaming down your own face. All at once your rage diminished and you were drowning once more in the sadness that had become your whole sky.

Unfortunately, your vitriolic rage was the only thing keeping your shaking body upright and your knees were quick to hit the floor. Deep heaving sobs shook your entire frame as you struggled to regain the breath you were losing.

Vaguely you are aware of Aegon clutching onto your form but you are too exhausted to push him away, desperate for some kind of comfort. His lips leave a burning trail along the skin of your neck and down to your chest. His deft fingers slowly unlace your nightgown whilst yours tangle in his silver hair, tugging at the roots to direct his movements.

Your mind is screaming at you to stop him, to not let him just crawl back to use and discard you once more. Gaining back some clarity you tug harshly at Aegon's hair, forcing his mouth to dislodge itself from your inner thigh. What you hadn't accounted for was the pathetic whine that your action had drawn from his throat.

You watched greedily as your husband's pupils dilated even further, lips pouting as he struggled against your hand to return to his prize. Your grip remained firm however as you sat up, using your free hand and legs to flip the unsuspecting man onto his back, before enclosing your grip around his neck instead. Once more his throat let out a pathetic whine that set your veins alight, fire burning in your chest down to your fingertips as you forced his writhing form to stay still.

Slowly you ground your hips down against his, eyes never leaving his as you lowered your mouth to bite down just over his heart. Your reward was a shaky gasp that sounded delicously close to a sob that had your hips faltering in astonishment.

The desperate upwards bucking of hips below you snaps you back into action. Fingers flexing in a warning around his throat as you lifted yourself onto his lower abdomen in order to stop any movement.

"No." With a single word the tides had changed, the usually prideful man had been reduced to a puddle of shaking, begging tears. Throat dry and nerves alight with ecstasy you slowly rid your bodies of any remaining cloth before sinking back down into his lap. You keep your movements deliberately slow as your rock your hips back and forth, mouth leaving punishing bruises along the milky expanse of his skin.

All the while your eyes never leave his face, scrunched up in pleasure and mouth stringing together the prettiest mix of moans and babbled words.

"please" he whimpers, eyes rolling into the back of his head and almost causing the last thread of your self control to snap from its already frayed state.

"Please what?" you smirked wickedly in response, attempting to maintain the last vestiges of your percieved control. Unintelligible whimpers are your only response and in a vindictive move you stop once more. "Use your words Aegon" you chided, leaning up to nip at the skin just below his ear.

"Please. Please, please fuck me" he shakily babbled out, breathy words finally pushing you over the edge. Your hips snapped into a punishing pace, hand grasping his throat so tightly you knew the skin underneath would soon bllom into a deep purple.

"Is this what you want? The reason you throw yourself so desperately at all those whores? You want someone to treat you like one?" you growl into his ear, your own pants of pleasure ane exhertion mixing with those from the writhing form beneath you.

The gasped moans increasing in pitch and furiously shuddering thighs indicated that in a typically selfish Aegon move, your husband wouldn't last much longer. A wave of annoyance ran through you as a snarl erupted from your throat. Lightening the harsh grip on his throat you offered only a brief reprieve before your fingers snaked their way into silver locks once more. Tugging forcefully you pulled until his chest was flush against yours, sweat mixing together as the two of your fought to pull the other impossibly closer.

"Touch me" you demanded, forcefully pulling his mouth down to bite at your hammering pulse and shoving one of his hands between your legs. Where Aegon ends and you begin is a mystery, the both of you desperately clawing at each other as if trying to pull the other into their very being.

It is with large hands splayed and grasping at your back and whimpered chants of your name just reaching your conscience through the debauched moans and slapping skin that you reach your high. Thighs clamping down against muscled thighs and a final harsh tug of sweat soaked silver locks is all it takes for Aegon to follow.

Your lungs greedily gulp in air tainted by the stench of sex as you force your shaking body to cooperate. Pulling yourself back you allow a brief persual of the masterpiece you had created still splayed bonelessly on your mattress. Burning leg muscles eventually allow you to move, collecting your discarded nightdress as you make yourself as presentable as possible.

"where're you goin?" Aegon slurs from your bed, glazed eyes hazily attempting to take in your movements.

"To bed, and seeing as mine is occupied it appears I'll have to find my rest elsewhere tonight. Good night Aegon." You are too swift for him to protest but as you reach the door you throw one last look at your painting of purples and reds before calling, "clean yourself up, you look like a whore." With those final words you close the door behind you once more, holding your head high as your assigned guards for the night throw uncomfortable glances at your post pleasure form. The sweat adorning your skin glinting slightly in the low lighting the various torches provided.

What's a girl gonna do? A diamond's gotta shine

Whispers flitted through the cut throat court of King's Landing. Whispers of a bejweled temptress and the pathetic Targaryen that attempted to hang off her arm like a broken bangle. Whispers that turned to scandalised gasps that followed when she walked in the room, a different Targaryen draped proudly across her arm. Long silver hair matching the refinery littering her fingers, wrists and neck as she made the whole place shimmer.

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