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wandaromanoffroses · 3 months

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"Isn't she gorgeous?"

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Requested

Warnings: 18+ content, breast sucking, fingering (R receiving), orgasm denial, strap-on use (R receiving), cock-sucking, vaginal sex, degrading, praising, profanity

Summary: Your husband, Steve Rogers, has been romantically and sexually starving you ever since he became an Avenger. After borrowing money from notorious crime leader, Natasha Romanoff, she breaks into your house to get what she's owed. However, when she finds you, his gorgeous wife innocently asleep next to him, you catch her interest and her plans change instantly.

Pairings: top dom!Natasha Romanoff x bottom sub!reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (nothing romantic or sexual happens)

Trigger Warnings: blood, gun wound, reference to implied SA (blink and you'll miss it).

“Y/n?” you nearly sent the plate in your hand flying to the floor, dropping it into the washing bowl before spinning around to see your husband in the doorway. You shook your head, sure that your eyes were deceiving you. He was never here even when he promised, never mind three weeks early.

“Steve,” you said, drying your hands and rushing over to him but before you could pull him into a hug, he caught a hold of your shoulders to stop you. His touch sent a stab of pain into your chest and you were snapped back to reality, falling away from the lingers of a past moment you had momentarily forgotten wasn’t your present. You straightened your figure and took a step back, looking up at the man that had once been the light of your life, a guide in the darkness, someone special to share all the good with but now, he could’ve been a stranger.

You had been married for three years, together for five and the first few years would be the most treasured moments of your life. But ever since he had become an Avenger, it had consumed his sole purpose.

Steve was always out fighting, carving his mark, making the world proud of his heroism while you stayed at home doing chores and completing mindless activities to pass the time. There was once a time where you could’ve sworn you saw Universes in his eyes. Now, his skin had been drained of colour and his eyes were rimmed with red as if he were a ghost that was forever cursed to haunt his loved ones. “What are you doing here?” you quizzed.

“I’m sorry," he said, bowing his head, “I’ve got into a bit of trouble, I wanted to make sure you were safe.” You frowned.

“What trouble?” you questioned, “is there a villain after you? Can’t the Avengers help you?” You didn’t even bother hiding the bitterness in my voice. They were clearly everything he ever needed, what use were you to him? He sighed.

“Not exactly,” he said, “we should probably sit down.” You followed him into the dining room with caution in your steps, not taking your eyes off him. The walls were a fading, off-white, elaborate flowers twisted between leaves and detailed patterns, wooden panelling running along across the bottom. The light fixture in the centre was brass with three upturned light bulbs, the dining tables and chairs a polished rosewood. Steve had wanted the room like this because it reminded him of his Grandmother. It was awkward to clean and there was always a build of dust in here. You took a seat opposite him.

“What’s going on?” you said. He scratched the back of his neck.

“I know what you’re going to think but… alright I’ll just tell you. I took out a loan from someone a bit dodgy and I haven’t quite paid them back.” You raised an eyebrow.

“What’s ‘haven’t quite’ supposed to mean?” you said, raising your voice.

“I haven’t paid them back, okay?” he exclaimed, “look, all I wanted to do was buy you a new house, I wanted to make you happy since you hate this one so much. I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to spoil my girl.” Generosity – the easiest attainable remedy for guilt.

“Well, I see something wrong with borrowing money you can’t pay back, especially from somebody that can put you and other people in danger,” you said, pushing yourself onto your feet, “what were you thinking Steve?” He slammed his fists onto the table and you jumped, your heart thumping against your ribcage.

“Listen, I thought I would have the money by now. It’s not my fault I can’t see into the future, you know I wouldn’t have even thought about it if I knew.” You closed your eyes, exhaling a long breath, trying to keep your composure. There were a hundred things you wanted to say to him right now but it wasn’t worth it. You either lived in peace or chaos; either way, nothing changed.

“I thought I knew a lot of things about you but they turned out to all be wrong,” you said, “so I don’t know anymore. Nothing you do surprises me.” You stormed back into the kitchen, not wanting him to waste anymore of your time. You had dishes to do and by now, the water would’ve gone cold.

“Y/n, come on. You haven’t seen me in three months and this is how you’re going to treat me?”

“I have dishes to do,” you said, picking up the plate you had dropped before, polishing it until it shone in the dim light peeking through the curtains, “someone has to keep the house clean.” And clearly, it wasn’t going to him. You felt a firm hand on my shoulder and all the muscles in your body tensed.

“I know you’re mad at me.” You scoffed. Mad wasn’t the right word – it was an array of messy emotions tangled together that had been fraying for years. There was more than just anger here, that was just an old friend that had withered and grown back into something much more cruel now. “Just please… let me make it up to you. I could die on a mission one day you know, you never know when one of these moments could be our last.” He had tried guilt tripping you before – it was a simple yet effective way of shifting blame onto the other person to ease your conscience. These games were getting so predictable.

“And I’d be the last one to know,” you said, “maybe if I was lucky, I’d see it on the news.” You placed the last plate on the drying rack, emptying the washing-up bowl before walking away to leave him standing in the kitchen, alone.

..........................................................................

You had avoided Steve as if he were the plague for the rest of the evening, only tolerating him in the same room as you when you went to give him his dinner. If you were nothing but his little housewife, you may as well play the part and poke it in his face. While you were getting ready for bed, you had paused by his chest of drawers, remembering the divorce papers you had hidden beneath the shirts he had outgrown or didn’t like anymore. Most of them had been bought by you and you could recall a memory with your husband in every single one. Maybe another day.

You couldn’t sleep but you kept your eyes tight shut when you heard him enter and move around the bedroom. Why didn’t you just sleep in the living room?, you thought as he slipped under the covers beside you. You figured he’d probably leave before you were awake so in his mind, you wouldn't even know. Dickhead. You didn’t know how much time had passed but you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you see is blinding white.

“Steve, turn the lights off…” You let out a scream when a gunshot sounded through the room, colliding with your husband’s cry of pain. Your eyes flew open and immediately fell on the figure standing at the end of your bed, her ravishing, blood-soaked hair curled onto her shoulder, her eyes glittering with shattered pieces of jade. Your heart seemed to freeze in your chest. Natasha Romanoff – the most notorious leader of crime in the world. And she was here, in your bedroom.

You turned to Steve and let out a strangled sob, the sight of scarlet soaking into the bed sheets making you dizzy. You heard the click of heels behind you and Natasha took a fistful of your nightgown before you could even process what was happening, pulling you away from him as if you were a mere feather. You screamed again and if it wasn’t for her strong grip on you, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.

She waited until you were steady enough to stand on your own two feet, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against her body. She was wearing a dress that emphasised all her curves and showcased most of her skin, your body flooding with dread. This woman was able to shoot Captain America without any protective clothing like it was nothing. There was no way out of this situation. We were doomed. I felt something hard in her crotch area, confused as to why she was carrying such a bulky item in her pockets.

“Leave her alone,” Steve whispered, his voice faint and overshadowed by anguish.

“Get on the floor and don’t say another word unless I ask you a question or she’ll have to watch you die,” she snapped, “neither of us want that to happen, do we?” With resentment, he hobbled away from the bed, stumbling over to the wall and sliding himself down it, his hand clutched to the gun wound in his stomach. “Good.” She ran a finger down your cheek before beginning to trace your features, her head tilted to the side. “You didn’t tell anyone you had a wife, Rogers. Isn’t she gorgeous?” You shivered in her hold, her voice low and seductive. “What’s your name, pretty?”

“Y-Y/n,” you trembled, wishing you could strangle the butterflies in your stomach that her touch had provoked. This was insanity – she had just shot your husband and she was threatening to murder him yet she was making you nervous, in a romantic way. God, if only Natasha wasn’t so beautiful, this would be a whole lot easier.

“Y/n Rogers?” she said, giving you a fake pout, “that doesn’t sound very nice, does it? Y/n Romanoff has a much nicer ring to it.” A crease formed between your eyebrows. What the hell was she implying? “Rogers, I’m willing to strike up a deal with you. But first, I’m going to fuck your wife until the only name she’ll remember is mine.” His eyes widened in horror and you let out a cry.

“Natasha, that’s assault. You can’t,” Steve said. She smirked.

“Oh there won’t be any need for that,” she said, “it won’t take much for her to beg me for more.” She pushed you down onto the bed and straddled your lap, a pool of wetness already forming between your legs. This was so fucked up. “Give me consent and I’ll make you feel so good baby, better than you’ve ever felt. All you have to do is say the word.”

You considered all your options but it didn’t take you long to decide since you only had two. You either let Natasha fuck you or you watched Steve die. You could treat it like a one night stand, you thought. You had never experienced one yourself but you’d read it in books so surely you would be able to do it.

Though you knew deep down, part of you wanted this. You were desperately touch starved and the thought of Natasha fucking you made you groan, heat rushing to your cheeks as the sound escape your mouth. You nodded and she gripped your jaw.

“Words bitch.”

“Yes,” you said, looking away from her in shame but she forced you to look back at her.

“Good girl,” Natasha said, lowering herself onto you and colliding her lips with yours, setting all your nerves alight. Her lips felt like velvet against your own, melting against you and setting a slow pace, letting you get used to the sensation. You couldn’t remember the last time Steve had kissed you, never mind like this.

When your hand moved to her chest, she knew she’d won and she began kissing you with more passion, her teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You gasped and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue between the gap in your teeth. You didn’t even bother fighting against her, wanting Natasha to take full control and use you however she pleased.

She separated your lips and began kissing your neck, her teeth ruthless against your skin as she began to mark you, leaving a trail of garnet blotches that would be seen by everyone. “Tell him how much you like this.” As much as you wished it wasn’t true, you were very much enjoying this. It was a terrible thing to admit to your husband but you had to remind yourself that his life was at stake here.

“I love it, I love being marked by you,” you said, “please don’t stop.” She pulled away when she reached your chest, reaching down and taking hold of your nightgown.

“Can I take this off angel?”

“Please,” you said, ignoring that Steve was in the same room as you. You wanted this, you needed this, you hadn’t had sex in so long. Too long. She lifted herself off your waist for a few moments so she could discard you of your nightgown before continuing her path down your chest, stopping right before she reached your breasts.

“So beautiful,” Natasha said before taking one of your nipples between her fingers and rolling it, earning her your loudest groan yet. She began to fondle the other roughly and the pain was soon replaced with pleasure that went straight in between your legs. You were a moaning mess beneath her, your forehead glistening with sweat and your breaths loud and sharp. “Listen to that, Rogers. Does she make these sweet, sweet noises for you? Do you Y/n? Tell me.”

“No,” I said, “only for you.” She tutted.

“Oh sweetheart, he doesn’t deserve you,” she said, “it’s okay, I’m going to take care of you now.” She ran her hands down your stomach and attached her mouth to your hardened nipple, your mind unable to decide what to concentrate on. She slipped her fingers beneath your panties and began snapping it against your skin, causing you to start bucking your hips into her.

“I need you,” you said. You expected her to make you wait but her expression softened as she began sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them in Steve’s direction. “Look how she ruined them for me. If you weren’t so neglectful, this could’ve been you, Rogers. Don’t you ever forget that.” You gasped as the palm of her hand pressed against your cunt, brushing against your swollen clint. “So wet.”

“Natasha, please…”

“Beg,” she said, running her fingers through your folds and collecting your arousal, “let him hear you.”

“Please Natasha,” you said, “I need you to fuck me so bad. I need you inside of me, please make me cum.” Your words made her groan and you whimpered as you felt her push two fingers inside of you, giving you only a few seconds to adjust before she began thrusting in and out of you at a quickened pace. You felt a burning sting, grabbing her wrist to try and slow her down. “Nat, it’s too much, it hurts.”

“What do you mean sweetie? Does he have a small cock?” There was a cruel glint in her eye when the realisation dawned on her. “He hasn’t fucked you in a longtime has he? How long has it been?” You were struggling to form coherent sentences at this point.

“Six months,” you admitted. He visited so little and he was always exhausted when he did, hardly even giving you any affection, never mind fulfilling your physical needs. You had shamefully been trying to fuck yourself for over a year now but you were either too embarrassed to keep at it for long or you were eventually forced to give up, too inexperienced to make yourself cum. You had never used more than one finger so you weren’t used to the stretch at all.

“You’re telling me your husband had access to this cunt anytime he wanted but he chose not to fuck you for half a year?” What a waste of such a perfect pussy,” she said, “shh, it’s okay, it’ll feel so good in a minute.” As if to prove her point, porn-worthy moans began to spill from your mouth as you were drowned in overwhelming bliss. She knew she had found that one spot inside of you when your noises became more intense and more wetness gushed from your entrance, the squelches of your arousal echoing around the room. You took fistfuls of the duvet beneath you in your hands, your walls began to clench around her fingers. But just before you reached your high, Natasha slipped her fingers out of you.

“No,” you cried, “I was so close.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Not just yet,” she said, “I want you to cum on my cock.” You blinked up at her in confusion, not understanding what she meant. Was she perhaps intersex? “Get on your knees.” You scrambled to obey her command, your thighs glistening with white and she smirked. “Such an obedient thing. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You did so without hesitation and she lifted up her dress and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a lacey bra and boxers. Your eyes fell onto her breasts that were full and sat perfectly, wondering how they’d feel in your hands and in your mouth. You were too distracted to pay attention to Natasha pulling down her boxers until a large, red strapon sprung into your face.

You were sheltered and didn’t have many friends so your knowledge on how two women had sex was low. You had accidentally come across some brief information about strapons while scrolling through social media, closing the app immediately and uninstalling it. You had never told anyone you liked women so any mentions of the topic made you panic and run in the opposite direction. Natasha noticed your hesitation.

“It’s just like sucking a cock,” she said, “you’ve done that, right?” You shook your head. Steve was a very traditional man so you’d never done anything outside of the very basics. You had always wanted to explore more interesting options but you were too ashamed to ask or discuss any of your preferences with him. “God, so vanilla. Once I show you what you’ve been missing you’ll never want to go back. Do you want to try симпатичный (pretty)?” Her Russian Nickname for you sent a lustful thrum through your body despite the words being foreign and unknown to you. You knew there was only one correct answer to her question but you liked being able to show Natasha how much you desired to follow her orders.

“I’d love to try,” you said, “anything to please you.”

“Good girl,” she husked, nudging your mouth with the strap-on. Her other hand dug into your shoulder as she pushed it inside of your gaping mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Natasha kept going even when you started choking, tears slipping from your eyes and smearing your makeup. The sight of you, a perfect housewife she had ruined and made a mess of, only made her thrust the toy into your mouth faster, desperately turned on. When she was satisfied that you’d wet it enough, she pulled out, showing enough mercy to let you catch your breath. “You’re already such a good cock-sucker.” She ran her thumb over your plump lips. “Aren’t you glad I put these lips to good use, hmm?”

“Yes,” you gasped, “thank you Natasha.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“So polite. Get on all fours and look at your husband.” You hesitated a little this time, suddenly remembering Steve’s presence. You turned around and followed her commands, your gaze meeting with his. Steve’s pupils were drowned in pain and clouded his emotions so you couldn’t identify them, blood still gushing from his gun wound.

“Natasha, I think he’s going to die,” I said, “his stomach…” She looked over and saw that he was on the verge of passing out, his blood loss now critical.

“I fear you’re right,” she said, “I thought we’d have more time with him, shame. Don’t worry милый (darling), he’ll be alright soon.” You heard footsteps thundering up the stairs before the door was flung open and several men dressed head to toe in black burst into the bedroom. You wondered how she had summoned them so quickly but you were too horny to dwell on the thought for long.

You tried to cover your exposed body, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden but Natasha slapped your hands away. “They won’t look my angel, they wouldn’t even dare. Don’t let them distract you.” You felt something prodding your entrance and you whimpered.

“Please,” you breathed as she circled your entrance with the toy, collecting your arousal.

“You’re somehow even wetter,” she cooed, “did you really love your face being fucked that much?” Before you could answer she began to push the tip inside, your soaked walls showing no resistance. She didn’t give you anytime to get used to the stretch, pulling out before slamming back into you seconds later. The pain only lasted a few moments before it dissolved into pure pleasure as Natasha pounded into you like a wild animal. You arched your bark, the dirtiest sounds you had ever produced spilling from your mouth and echoing through the room. You somehow managed to lift an arm and point it towards Steve’s shirt drawer.

“There’s divorce paper,” you strung together between gasps, “in that drawer. I already signed them.” The men followed your finger and moved towards them, aimlessly throwing Steve’s shirts onto the floor. You saw a pang of hurt in Steve’s expression but you didn’t care. He should’ve seen this coming and even if he didn’t, it was his fault anyway.

As the divorce papers and Steve were dragged away, you moved your hips in rhythm with Natasha’s to try and get the strap-on deeper into you, every brush against your walls sending electricity through your body. She gripped your hips, encouraging your movements, grunting each time you slammed back against her. Your groans changed when she found your g-spot again and after that, she made sure to keep hitting it, a knot beginning to tighten in your stomach for the second time that night.

“I need to cum,” you said, “can I this time, please?”

“Such a slut,” she said, “soak my dick baby. Go on.” You screamed her name as you released all over her cock, stars blinding your eyes as your body shook with bliss, each new wave stronger than the last. After the longest orgasm of your life, you finally finished cumming, liquid staining your thighs. But Natasha didn’t stop, moving her hands up to your ass and massaging your cheeks.

“Natasha, I’ve already cummed,” you said, expecting her to finally pull out but instead, she tutted.

“We’re not finished yet,” she said, “If I wanted to, I could have you cumming all over this cock all night. We’re done when I say we are. You are all mine after all, gorgeous.” After the initial discomfort faded away, you were soaring back up to cloud nine, ready to do whatever Natasha wanted.

“Of course,” you said, “I’m all yours now.”

#black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x y/n #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel smut #mcu x reader #mcu x you #mcu x y/n

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bleubrri · 2 years

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toji doesn't understand the concept of personal space.

it was cute at first, he was big and thick and brutish and yet he clung to you like a magnet to steel. but the practicality of it was another story.

he'd keep you hugged to his chest through an entire movie despite you sweating from his stifling body heat, kiss you until you couldn't breathe while his hands lifted your hips to meet his thrusts, and despite your literal king sized bed, he chooses to fall asleep with his full weight on top of you, arms firmly wrapped around your waist making it impossible to wriggle from his grasp.

you groan as the rays of light peek through your blinds and illuminate the broad shoulders that block your line of sight.

"toji." you mutter, patting the familiar mass on top of you. he grunts and makes no effort to roll over to his side of the bed.

"toji, move i've gotta pee." you say, writhing against the mattress and attempting to shove him away. his sigh tickles the skin of your neck, but he relents and shifts to his side, allowing you to slide off of the bed and make a beeline to the bathroom.

after you've relieved yourself, you go through your skincare routine and load up your toothbrush with toothpaste. the flouride doesn't even get the chance to coat your enamel before the door’s opening and toji’s heavy footsteps hault behind you-- right behind you in fact, your back hitting his chest when you straighten up from rinsing your mouth. you don't acknowledge him as he rests his forehead on your shoulder, continuing to brush your teeth. he pokes at your ribs, making you jolt and swat him away with your free hand.

all of 30 seconds later his large hands are snaking under your-- his overiszed shirt and pawing at your chest, his hoarse voice telling you to "come back t' bed."

"oh my god you child, can you gimme a second?" you garble through the foam in your mouth. his hands have slithered down to your hips by the time you've put your toothbrush back and given your mouth a final swish of water.

"okay, c'mon, i'm do--" your words are replaced by a yelp as he throws you over his shoulder in one swift motion. kicking your legs proves useless as one of his arms covers the back of your knees to lock them in place. you can't help but laugh when he slaps your ass that's perched on his shoulder.

"put me down you barbarian!" you shriek as he carries you back to the bedroom like a ragdoll, smirking and turning his head to sink his teeth into the meat of your thigh.

you're still laughing when he collapses onto the bed and hovers over you, using his arms to cage you in and spattering your face with kisses. he only stops his attack when you pull him in by the neck to connect your lips. it's sweet and chaste and has you sighing against him. he pulls away a fraction to meet your eyes, lids heavy as his words fan over your lips.

"wanna go back to sleep." he mutters.

you raise a brow at him. "okay?"

you're met with silience, verdant eyes boring into yours as his unsung request hangs in the air.

a scoff escapes you and you roll your eyes, opening your arms and gesturing for him to embrace you. his low hum of satisfaction vibrates through his chest and sinks into your skin, passes through flesh and bone and nestles into the beating muscle in your chest. his head finds its rightful place in the crook of your neck and your fingers toy with the silky hair at his nape.

maybe it's because you're so used to it, but you can't imagine life without your little routine. the comforting pressure from his body pressed into you, the subtle scent of rosewood that seems to be embeded into his skin, and the shallow puffs of air that skim your pulse as his breathing evens out, easing you into peaceful sleep.

its far from perfect, but it's yours, and you wouldn't change a thing. <3

#going back to my roots of dumb toji hcs😋🤞#toji x reader fluff #toji x reader #toji headcanons #toji scenarios #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x black reader #toji smut #jjk x reader fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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theostrophywife · 10 months

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okay for fluff prompts with Eris I would love to see something where Eris is touch starved and desperate for affection from his mate/significant other

like you wanna be loved.

author's note: i've been listening to a ton of ed sheeran lately hence this request being inspired by this song.

eris vanserra never learned how to be soft.

for his entire immortal existence, he was taught that affection was synonymous to weakness and to crave such things were beneath a future high lord. even after beron's demise, it was still hard for eris to admit that he desired that connection just like everyone else.

eris didn't realize how starved he was of affection until the first time you touched him. it was during the day of his coronation, in the great ballroom of the forest house. a crowd had gathered to see the high priestess place the rosewood crown upon his head. despite the fact that he had plotted and schemed his way into this exact moment for centuries, eris was terrified.

what if he was a terrible high lord? what if he failed his court? what if his greatest fear came true and he turned out to be exactly like his father?

eris would've spiraled into his thoughts had he not felt your fingers intertwining through his. the warmth of your hand anchored him to the present and his heart squeezed in his chest as he found you smiling up at him. the mating bond hadn't snapped yet, but at the back of his mind, eris had always known.

it was you. it had always been you.

"you're going to be the best high lord the autumn court has ever seen, eris."

"how can you be so sure?"

you tilted your head, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. "because i believe in you."

you had spoken with such conviction that it chased away all of his doubts. as he assumed his responsibilities as high lord, you became his constant. you were the anchor that brought him back to the present.

when he found himself frustrated during tense council meetings, you were there to squeeze his hand underneath the table. when he forgot to eat while toiling through the court's budget, you curled up on the couch with him, resting your leg atop his lap as you shared freshly baked bread and strawberry jam. and when the nightmares came, he let you hold him all through the night, focusing on nothing but the soft cadence of your breath and the warmth of your arms around him.

"you're always taking care of everyone," you said softly, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "it's okay to admit that you need to be taken care of too. let me be that for you, eris."

eris blinked, drinking your words in. he didn't think you realized what this moment meant to him. you were giving him permission to be vulnerable. you were teaching him that desiring love wasn't weak. in fact, it might have been the bravest and strongest that eris had ever felt.

vulnerability was uncharted waters, but for you, for his mate, he was willing to dive in headfirst. slowly but surely, your mate let you in and eris felt the sunlight of your love fill the dark corners of his calloused heart. before he could talk himself out of it, eris reached for you.

eris had kissed others before, but it had never been like this. his hands shook as he cradled your cheek. when your eyes met, there was such tenderness in his gaze that your chest tightened at the sight of him. his expression was raw and unguarded, like he was holding his heart in his hands and offering it up to you.

when his lips touched yours, eris felt like he had finally come home. your kisses were soft and tender, full of pining and yearning. he gently cradled your face and the thought that he was holding his entire world between his hands struck him just as you sighed in satisfaction. eris held you like he was afraid you might disappear. he kissed you again, long and deep this time before pressing his forehead against yours.

"you have to know," eris murmured, his voice full of passion and emotion. "surely you must know what you mean to me."

you smiled as tears blurred your vision. "i may have an inkling," you teased. "but it wouldn't hurt to hear you say it."

"i love you," eris said plainly as though he was reciting the infallible truth. as though his love for you had always been and will always be long after the world ceased existing. "i love you in a way that i never thought myself capable of. i love you as surely as the rising of the sun. i love you because you taught me that i could."

the tears fell as you looked up at eris. before you met him, love had always seemed like a vast concept that you would never be able to grasp, but now the word itself seemed inadequate to describe the gravity of what you felt for him.

"i love you too, eris." you placed his hand over your heart. "i love you so much that i don't think there's enough room in my heart to contain it."

eris closed his eyes and released a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "i think you're my best friend."

you smiled in return. "i know you're my best friend and the love of my life."

"and the love of my life," eris repeated. "and every other life that i've ever existed in."

that four letter word—love. it hadn't been enough to describe whatever this was between you, but there was another that could. you and eris felt the exact moment that golden thread snapped between you.

mate.

#I CRAVE THE SWEET RELEASE OF DEATH #i love eris so much oh my god #eris #eris vanserra #eris vanserra fluff #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra fic #acotar #acotar fluff

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ofstoriesandstardust · 6 months

Text

steady love (j.h.s.)

a/n: loosely based on real events... thanks to @cottagecorifor indulging me

summary: You think someone is following you home, so naturally, you call Jake.

second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)

warnings: reader thinks someone is following her but is never in any real danger, swearing, unedited

word count: 1.1k

“There now, steady love, so few come and don’t go/will you, won’t you, be the one i’ll always know?”

You swallow as you glance behind you, the shadowy figure still maintaining a good distance behind you. You clutch your pepper spray together, before fishing your phone out of your jacket pocket.

The cold San Diego air nips at your fingers as curse silently, dialing Jake’s number and pressing the phone up to your ear. He answers on the third ring even though you’ve already started chewing on your lip.

You can hear music in the background and Natasha’s laughter in the background. He must be having dinner with Javy and Nat, something you feel a momentary twinge of guilt for interrupting.

“Hey sweetheart, how’s it going?” He says, a smile clear in his voice.

“Jake-” You say, twisting back around to see if the man behind you had gotten any closer. You can’t be sure but you think he is. “Hey, I think I’m being followed, can you please just stay on the phone with me until I get to my apartment?”

There’s a skidding of a chair in the background as his voice turns hard. “Where are you right now? Are you in your car or did you take the bus?”

You swallow. “I’m walking back from the bus stop. I’m like a block from the intersection of Rosewood and Melvin. I’m not far from my apartment building at all.”

You think you hear keys jingling in the background with the sound of a front door opening. There’s a few seconds of silence that feel like minutes as you hear Jake get in his truck and start the engine. “Okay sweetheart, I want you to try and make it to the intersection. You can try and lose him at the crosswalk.”

“I don’t even know if this guy is following me.” You mutter, suddenly feeling slightly stupid.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re alone and it’s dark and you don’t feel safe.”

You eye the nearing intersection with nerves growing in your stomach. It’s more well-lit than the rest of the road but you also have nowhere to go if this guy really did want to hurt you.

“I should’ve called Bradley and have him meet me halfway. Hey Jake- I’m gonna call you once I get back to my apartment, I’m gonna call Bradley.”

“You’re high if you think I’m letting you get off the phone right now, sweetheart.” Jake’s voice is firm, hard and cold, and you swallow the sting of the fact that Jake is mad at you.

“Jake, really, I think I’m being overdramatic, it’s fine-”

“I texted Bradshaw when I left my house, he’s going to meet you at the intersection. Do not hang up the phone until you’re with him, do you understand me?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay I see him. I’m at the light now.”

“Great. I want you to tell me if you want pepperoni pizza if he’s still behind you, cheese for no.”

You glance next to you as you press the button for the crosswalk, unable to keep in the startled gasp at the fact that the man was right behind you.

“Sweetheart?”

You swallow as the man gives you a curious glance before pressing the button for the opposite crosswalk. The light goes green and he begins his walk away from you.

“Hey, sweetheart, can you hear me? Are you there?”

There's a desperate note in his voice as you swallow again, eyes flickering across the street as you see Bradley’s broad figure come into the light.

“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine Jake. He was just right behind me but he’s gone now.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Hey, I’m crossing the street now, I see Bradley, I’ll call you in like ten minutes.”

“I’d really prefer you stay on the phone with me.”

“He wasn’t even following me Jake, he was just some man going for a walk.” You snap, walking across the street to where Bradley is waiting. “I’ll call you when I get back to my place.”

You hang up the phone as you jog the last few steps up to Bradley, finally letting yourself breathe. His eyes skim over you before the area around you.

“Are you good? Do we need to take a few laps around the block?”

You shake your head as the two of you begin to walk back to your building. “Fine. The guy wasn’t even following me, I just think he got off at my stop.”

“You don’t usually come this way.” Bradley comments as the two of you walk.

“Yeah.” You let out a huffed laugh. “A car drove into the side of the bus as it was letting me off.”

Bradley’s eyes grow wide. “Are you being serious?”

“Yep. Pretty sure that guy was on the bus and just managed to get a headstart to the next stop on everyone. Dude’s a fucking fast-walker.”

“Sorry.” Bradley says, waving a hand. “The car hit your bus?”

You’re settled on Bradley’s couch, recounting the story to Bob and Mickey and Bradley’s girlfriend Jordan, a slice of pizza in your hand when Jake opens the front door rather abruptly. You barely have time to hand the plate off to Bob before Jake is pulling you off the couch and into his arms.

“Jake-”

“What the fuck, dude. Do you know how scary it was to get that call?”

Jake briefly pulls back, eyes scanning over you, before he wraps you in another tight hug. You swallow as his hand comes to rest on the back of your head.

The two of you stand there for what is starting to feel like an embarrassing amount of time when you hear Jake whisper, “I just got you. I can’t lose you yet.”

The words are so quiet you almost don’t think he even realizes he said them out loud. Guilt prickles at you again.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Mad at you?”

He still won’t let you go but you can picture how big and wide his eyes are.

“Well, I know you always hate it when I take the bus but I can’t be asking you for rides every time I have to leave the house just because I don’t want to spend money on gas-”

“Sweetheart, yes I would prefer it if you stop taking the bus. But, you- you can’t be responsible for some sleazeball following you home.”

“Well, he wasn’t really following me. I just sort of panicked.” You say sheepishly.

“Watching your bus get hit by a car will make you all kinds of shaken up.” Bradley comments, grin clear in his voice.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jake says, glancing at Bradley before looking back at you. “What the fuck is he talking about?”

#jake seresin #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #top gun: maverick fic #second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)

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scuttlingcrab · 1 month

Note

What if Raphael sent Tav an embarrassing gift? Something he'd definitely find pleasure in, but Tav would be mortified to receive? xD

LOL. Thank you for sending me this one. I died writing this, had me grinning from beginning to end. x

Summary: Raphael gives Tav, his very favourite client, a generous gift after she signs his contract.

Notes: Some suggestive imagery from the devil we know and love.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

The Devil's Muse

(Image via keylana-dragon)

“I beg your indulgence. A brief word, before you depart.”

Raphael spoke in a low rumble, intending his voice for Tav but unperturbed whether or not the other companions overheard him.

Tav hesitated, her ears perking up as his voice shattered the silence. She hovered near the door of his suite in Sharess’ Caress, halfway through the threshold as she attempted to make her leave. Shadowheart, Astarion, and Karlach waited on the landing outside, the companions lingering like flies on a rotten corpse.

Raphael casually leaned against the desk, resting his hands on the smooth, rich rosewood. He lightly tapped his fingers on the surface, warming up his digits before the second performance began.

The little mouse was always the last to leave his company, lagging behind her companions. It was only for a moment, but that was long enough for Raphael to take note, keeping a detailed record after each encounter.

She tried to play coy, never giving Raphael the satisfaction of losing himself in those dark delectable eyes. He could often feel Tav’s gaze on him as soon as he turned his back to her, those eyes burning through his very body and spirit.

Despite her attempts of acting aloof, with her crossed arms and narrowed lips, she remained at the forefront of their conversations. Raphael would catch her leaning towards him, edging closer as he spoke his rhymes of wisdom and warning. Tav in turn spoke softly when she addressed Raphael, her words blunt yet voice cracking with emotion.

That confounded mortal fanned the flames of his desires the more detached she presented herself. She was becoming a nuisance; occupying every waking thought and following him freely into every dream. Raphael had an insatiable longing for carnality, his chest overflowing with passion. He had been reduced to his primal instincts, letting his lust for that woman lead his motivations instead of his ambitions for the Crown. He would need to be more cautious.

“There is one thing I wish to show you… now that the contract has been signed.”

Tav raised an eyebrow, biting her bottom lip as she watched Raphael, waiting for him to continue.

“What in the flaming Hells does he want now?” Karlach shouted, shoving her obnoxious face through the doorway. “C’mon soldier, we need to leave.”

Karlach placed a hand on Tav’s arm, trying to lure her outside. Tav remained cemented, grabbing Karlach’s hand in return.

“Hold on a minute.” Tav responded, “let’s hear what he has to say.”

“It would be in your best interest, little mouse, if it was just the two of us.” An edge of warning in Raphael’s tone.

“Oh, go on then, devil.” Karlach sneered.

“Come now, Karlach, no need to be unpleasant. Can we not speak with civility?”

Tav regarded the situation with curiosity, her intense stare shifting around the room. Raphael could just about hear the rusted cogs turning inside of that tadpoled infested brain of hers.

Tav nodded, walking to the centre of the suite.

“Alright, Raphael. I’m not interested in any more secrets. Whatever you have to say or show can be done in front of everyone.”

Karlach stomped her way into the room, standing close behind Tav. The Tiefling's infernal engine roared, the flames in her chest growing more chaotic as she shot Raphael a scathing glance. Shadowheart and Astarion shared a few hushed words as they followed Karlach, shuffling reluctantly back inside the Devil’s Den.

“So be it, if you insist.”

Raphael snapped his fingers and a large painting sizzled into view, suspended above them. The entire party gasped in unison.

“A gift for my new treasured client.”

The painting showcased Tav reclining on a leather chaise lounge against a dark grey backdrop, her body bending with pleasure. She was draped in a red robe, the sleeves falling loosely off her slender shoulders, stopping just above the hill of her breasts. Her eyes were closed and her lips wore a savoury smile, as if she was on the cusp of release. Her dark wavy hair poured off the edge of the furniture like a waterfall.

Raphael beamed, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he respected the painting in the very presence of his muse. He had painted Tav’s likeness from memory, hoping he would be able to do her justice by capturing her unique beauty on the canvas.

Whether Tav signed Raphael’s contract that afternoon was debatable, he would’ve delivered his gift to the little mouse regardless of the outcome.

He had worked diligently behind the scenes since their last rendezvous in the Shadow-Cursed Lands; sketching mockups, painting, re-painting, one failed canvas after another, until he successfully recreated the image that plagued his mind for what felt like an eternity.

Raphael knew it would never be perfect, he still found flaws as he stared at the painting; minor errors in the brushstrokes, a few shadows that could’ve perhaps been blended better. He only hoped it added to the charm and the little mouse would not notice.

Raphael returned his attention to his guests, immediately observing Tav. She was frozen in place, her eyes wide and fixed on the painting, as if she was hypnotised by it. There was something different to her face now, something Raphael always yearned to see from the mortal. A faint gleam in those eyes, a playful smile slowly crawling up her delicate lips the more she stared at the artwork. Had he stirred something in the little mouse? At long last?

“Perhaps, at a later time, we can admire it together, once the Crown is in my possession, yes? Until then, it will remain in my House of Hope. For safekeeping, naturally.”

“This has got to be a fucking joke, right?” Karlach shouted, getting in between Tav and Raphael. “I told you he was a creep!”

“I don’t know, it does capture her essence... in a drab, lifeless kind of way.” Shadowheart murmured, her cheeks blushing as she continued to gape at the painting.

“And here I was thinking only his poetry was questionable.” Astarion whispered, giggling like an ill-behaved schoolboy.

“I often forget how ignorant you mortals are. A pity.”

Raphael straightened his posture and kept his chin held high. He tightly clasped his hands behind his back, imagining what it would feel like to have his fingers around the companions' brittle necks, ridding them of their pitiful lives. Those foolish twits would feel his wrath in due time. Perhaps one, or two, would perish when they fought the Elder Brain. Yes, that would be most preferable.

Raphael instead approached Tav, ignoring the companions and their onslaught of criticisms. He turned to face the painting, standing beside her. Raphael could see Tav out of the corner of his eye, feeling the warmth radiating off her body as she continued to stare at the artwork.

“I never took you for a painter, Raphael.”

“I occasionally dabble in mortal amusements from time to time, when I’m feeling inclined.”

“And do you always give your clients such risqué gifts? These types of things are open to suggestions.”

“It’s an innocent gift, I assure you. But now I am most curious, what does this painting tell you?”

Raphael crossed his arms, his fingers trembling as he raised a hand to his chin, anticipating her answer.

“A promise of what could be? Maybe what more could be offered?”

“Very astute. I have been known to provide exceptional entertainment when certain deals have been met.”

Raphael tilted his head, taking an opportunity to lean towards Tav. It was a subtle gesture, but their bodies were now touching, linked together. With his arms still crossed, he removed an index finger from his lower extremity, lightly caressing Tav’s exposed forearm. The little mouse did not flinch at his touch but he saw her smile grow.

“One note though.” Tav whispered.

“Go on?”

“I think my jawline is a bit off, don’t you think?”

Raphael bit his tongue, unsure whether he wanted to incinerate the little mouse or take her by the neck and violently kiss her.

Raphael had Tav's signature but he’d only praise the occasion when that little mouse bestowed the Crown to him. Her contract didn’t amount to a hill of beans when compared to his grander schemes. Raphael would not rest until he had succeeded in his plight to unite the Nine Hells, until he faced Mephistopheles, and claimed his birthright.

Raphael had once made a promise to himself not to allow any distractions. It was too perilous, opening him up to failure and eternal punishment. But that damned little mouse found a way through his defences, crept through the cracks of what he thought was a sturdy foundation. The woman had caught Raphael in her snare. Until he held her in his arms, until she was his, she would continue to plague his dreams. Perhaps along the road to ascension, he would add Tav’s heart to his list of conquests.

“I will make sure to keep that in mind for my next piece.” Raphael noted, turning to face the rest of the party.

The silence was heavy, the awkwardness weighing on the companions. Raphael stared at each of them until they looked away, unable to handle the intense heat of his gaze without melting.

“You may take your leave. The room is getting far too crowded for my tastes.” Raphael waved the party off, walking back to his desk. He left the painting floating above him.

“Gods, I thought he’d never ask. Fucking prick.” Karlach whispered, practically sprinting out the room.

“Tav, you owe me a damned drink.” Astarion groaned.

Shadowheart had no words, but she curiously eyed the painting a final time before trailing after Astarion.

“Don’t disappoint me, little mouse. The fate of the world, our very futures, hang over your shoulders.”

Tav remained in the room, staring amorously into Raphael’s eyes. He held his breath, relishing the seconds he was allowed to devour her magnificence.

“Thank you." Tav mouthed, and quickly made her exit.

Raphael released a sigh, resting a hand on his desk to keep himself from combusting. That damned woman.

The curtain had fallen on this act, but it was not yet the finale. Change was brewing, mists of uncertainty clouding Raphael’s judgement, and for once, he was not fearful of what was to come.

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ficsforeren · 2 years

Text

Shhh, Baby, Daddy's on The Phone

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: Rockstar AU, Domestic AU, Smut, Fluff

Summary: Your husband, Eren Jaeger, comes home from his band’s tour to the sight of you moaning his name on your bed with a vibrator buried deep inside you. Burned by the desire to ravish you right then, Eren decides to have his way with you, not caring if he’s in the middle of a phone interview with a music journalist.

Warnings: rough and unprotected penetrative sex, having sex while on the phone, reader masturbating while Eren watches, blindfold, daddy kink, cunnilingus, blow job, hand job, having sex while being recorded, squirting, spit kink, overstimulation, cum play, creampie, choking, degradation, spanking (with hands and belt), slapping, dirty talk, heavy swearing

Word Count: 9K

🎉 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 7000 FOLLOWERS! 🎉 Here's your gift, darlings ❤️❤️❤️

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart

A day. If you had waited for just one more day, you wouldn’t have gotten caught masturbating on the same bed you shared with the man you had loved—and loved you—for seventeen years. But you were lonely, weren’t you? You were impatient. You hadn’t seen your husband, Eren Jaeger—the frontman of the notorious rock band called Empire—for almost a month. You hadn’t touched him, made love to him, tasted the sweet taste of his lips and the exotic rosewood of his perfume on his sun-kissed skin and it became unbearable with each second passing by.

Phone calls weren’t enough. Watching his lips form the line, “I miss you,” and “I love you” through FaceTime wasn’t as satisfying as having them whispered directly into your ear with his smirk grazing against your shell. His words didn’t light your body on fire, not in the way they did on that night before his departure when you spent endless hours gasping his name and hearing him call yours between a string of expletives and filthy words. You missed him. You wanted him. Which was why the second your parents took your two children into their home to have a sleepover party with their cousins, leaving you all alone in the lovely suburban house you had shared with your husband and kids for three years, you decided to… look for some relief.

You didn’t plan on it, of course. Your plan was to finish all your chores to make sure the house was spotless by the time your husband arrived home the next day. But you managed to finish everything before sundown, leaving you wandering along the house, not knowing what else to do. Once you had cleaned yourself in the shower, you were dressed in your silky nightgown, climbing to the middle of the bed with your favorite novel in one hand.

You only managed to read a chapter when your thoughts flew back to your husband. You checked on your phone. The last text you had gotten from him was this morning, telling you not to forget to eat your breakfast as you tend to skip it. Eren was always attentive like that, sometimes acting more like a wife than you were. The rest of your texts hadn’t been read. Maybe he’s busy? You wondered. He had been dealing with endless interviews, photoshoots, and live performances to promote Empire’s new album after all. It often took him a few hours before he could get back to your calls and messages. He was only in a different town, not overseas, but it felt like he was a thousand miles away from you.

Sighing, you closed your book, unable to concentrate on your reading any longer. You searched for your phone, your thumb sliding across the screen, going through your gallery. There was a video—a sex video—that you once took with Eren during your friends-with-benefits days. That one Sunday morning when the two of you engaged in debauchery while he was still drunk and half-asleep. With your cheeks warming up at the memory, you tapped your finger on the screen and the video played.

“Bounce back,” Eren said, his husky voice sounding a bit deeper, heavy with sleep but also laced with urgency. “Bounce back on my fucking dick, baby, come on.”

You lost count on how many times you had seen this video when he was away. You convinced yourself that it was just a way to cope with the longing, but you couldn’t deny the way your body squirmed, aching to redo everything you did in that video.

“Harder,” Eren commanded, followed by the sound of his palm meeting your ass cheek. “Fucking take that cock like you own it.”

The video was so pornographic, so raw, and passionate. Eren was a feral beast in bed while you were reduced to nothing more but a whimpering mess. He wasn’t being himself that day, too intoxicated to register the things he did and said to you.

“Wanna make you my bitch,” he rasped. “Wanna make you my cumslut.”

That man in the video almost didn’t feel like him. Eren—the version of Eren that you fell in love with—had always showered you with praises at any time he could. He didn’t do it just to flatter you. He did it because each compliment he gave you was a form of his honesty. He respected you, cared about you, loved you more than the earth loved the sun. That morning was the only time he ever treated you like a whore he rented for the night, and he felt so guilty for treating you that way but you loved it. It was a nice change. He felt dangerous, uncontrolled and it was so exhilarating that a mere thought of it sent your blood boiling.

You squeezed your thighs, heat pooling in your center. You were so aroused at the little grunts and groans your husband was emitting in the video, so titillated at the sight of him taking you from behind and fucking you against the headboard. He had his head thrown back, his lips parted in a breathy moan, “Fuck, so good. You’re so fucking good, baby girl.”

Your eyes, just like many nights before, drifted back to the top drawer of your dresser where you kept your rabbit vibrator hidden safely in a box. It was the one that your best friend Pieck gave you on your birthday; the same one that your husband used plenty of times before, not because he was incapable of satisfying you. Eren was beyond fantastic when it came to handling things in bed but there was something hot, he said, about watching you clench yourself around the toy before he fucked you senselessly. He did it so you’d know just how good his cock was compared to it. And it fed his ego so well when he found you squirting on his cock just after a few thrusts. “Fucked you so good, didn’t I, baby?” He would ask with a smirk, not giving you a chance to breathe until he reached his own high.

Fuck, okay. You couldn’t hold back the temptation, not when the images of your husband pushing your legs high up in the air as he rammed his hips against yours resurfaced in your head. Taking the sex toy out of the box, you returned to the bed.

You took a glance at the clock. It was only seven pm, still so early to be doing something as sinful as this but you couldn’t help it. Your bedroom door was still open but you didn’t care. You were the only person in the house anyway, and the front door was locked. The only one who carried the spare key was your husband and his flight back home wouldn’t be until tomorrow evening.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your nightgown until the fabric pooled around your stomach, your thin spaghetti strap falling off your shoulder as you slid your panties off your legs. You propped a pillow behind your back for comfort, keeping your thighs open wide. You rewound the video, playing it from the beginning. You didn’t have to watch it, as you already memorized the scene from replaying it so many times. You just needed to shut your eyes and your memory would display everything behind your closed lids like a movie projector.

Holding your vibrator in one hand, already covered with lube, you tucked the end of your dress between your teeth so you could watch yourself sliding the toy inside your entrance. The internal stimulator was able to penetrate you deeply enough to reach your G-spot, and as you switched it on, waves of pleasure coursed through your veins almost right after. Even so, it could never satisfy you the way Eren’s cock did. Your husband was the only one who could stretch you perfectly in the way you liked it.

The smaller arm of the vibrator, flexible enough to bend and move as needed, stimulated your clitoris at the same time you thrust its long shaft inside you. You clicked on the buttons, increasing the intensity, exploring many kinds of vibration modes until you found the right one. You focused on Eren’s moans, the way he was calling your name, the way he snarled out, “No one can fuck you like this but me, you got that?”

You remembered him again, remembered the way your husband held you, the way he kissed and plundered your mouth with his tongue, the way his fingers would curl tightly around your throat to make you choke out his name. You chewed on your bottom lip, pinpointing the vibrations right where you wanted them. You started pumping them fast, remembering the way he slid his cock in and out of you, matching his pace. It might not be as gratifying, but you could feel your thighs quivering in pleasure.

“Ah,” you moaned, your muscles tensing at your impending orgasm. You were so close. “Eren…”

“Yes, baby?”

Your eyes jolted open in shock, your body freezing at the sight of your husband leaning one shoulder so casually against the doorframe, watching you with a pair of naughty eyes. He was dressed impeccably handsome in formal attire, must be because he just returned from another press conference. His tailored black suit highlighted his broad shoulders perfectly, its color a stark contrast to how bright his viridian eyes were. Eren had both hands stuck inside the pocket of his trousers, a suggestive smirk written on his lips. The matching black tie he wore was hanging loosely around his neck, his crisp white button-down shirt still tucked neatly inside his pants but he had his top buttons unfastened. He was still wearing his Oxford shoes, his expensive coal-black Tag Heuer watch reflecting the dim, golden light of your bedroom.

His hair, as always, was tied up to the back of his skull, designed by a pair of expert hands to make it look stylishly messy. Eren was breathtaking. Even before he was a celebrity, he was already gorgeous. As a college boy, he was boyish and mischievous. Right now, he looked so mature, reeked of charm and sensuality. But as he watched you with his emerald eyes coated by desire, he only seemed devilish to you.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he crooned, his voice light and airy. “Didn’t think my wife would be so…” His gaze traversed down your body until it stopped right at your center, watching your hole clenching around your vibrator. His tongue peeked out to wet his lip before he returned your gaze to yours. “Occupied.”

You scrambled back, pulling the toy out of you in an instant before you closed your legs in shame. “Eren!” you squeaked out in horror, blood rushing to your face so fast that it left you feeling lightheaded. “Why are you—I thought you were flying back tomorrow!”

“I wanted to surprise you,” your husband chuckled, making his way to your spot while dragging his suitcase behind him. “When you said the kids were staying at your mother’s house for the night, I just couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone.” He stopped near the end of your bed. “I figured my wife would be lonely with me being gone.” He kept his hands inside his pockets as he loomed tall, his knees a few inches away from grazing against the footboard rail. He looked down on you. His gaze was intense. The previous mirth that graced his lips had vanished without a trace. “Seems like I was right.”

You found him glancing at the phone beside you. Your sex video was still playing, the sound of your moans filling the room. You panicked, utterly flustered. “I—this isn’t—”

“Open up.”

“W-what?”

“Your legs.” His voice was an octave lower. “Let me see that dripping cunt.”

You swallowed your breath. You didn’t think the first lines that fled out of your husband’s mouth after weeks of separation would be so obscene. Eren could be the gentlest man in bed if he wanted to, spooning you as he whispered sweet nothings in your ears, your body rocking together as you listened to the pit patter of the rain knocking against your windows. But he knew how much you loved it when he was being rough and dominating, craving for a little pain between waves of pleasure. This, right here, was him giving you a glimpse of what he was planning to do to you in a matter of minutes.

The mischief in his eyes was quickly replaced by impatience when you didn’t comply with his words right away. “I said, open.” He lifted his chin, his gaze condescending. The superiority in his gaze left you weak. “Or do you want to be punished?”

You shuddered. The coils inside your stomach tautened at his words. Eren remembered. He remembered when you told him you wanted to try something new in bed. Something filthier, something more thrilling, just like the way he behaved in the sex video you shared with him. You wanted him to do the opposite of what he usually did. You didn’t want him to be gentle. You didn’t want him to be respectful. There’s a time to make love and there’s a time to fuck like animals. Right now, with this amount of yearning burning inside you—a craving so intense that you couldn’t even wait for one more day to be stuffed with your husband’s cock and instead resorted to a silicone stick—Eren could tell it was the latter that you wanted.

You had spoken about this once on the night before he left the town—how you wanted him to be more merciless in bed—but it was weeks ago. You didn’t think he would remember it. But that’s where you were wrong. Eren didn’t just remember it. He wanted to do it. If this was a way to please you, he would do anything to fulfill even your filthiest dream. He had been thinking about it so much during your days of separation, that sometimes he lost track of conversation during his interview. And now that he was finally home, he was planning to give you just that.

You used to be diffident in bed, especially since you knew how experienced Eren was when it came to sex. But after spending years together, with him constantly praising every curve of your body, your confidence was built. But not tonight. After spending weeks not standing on the receiving end of that lustful stare, you were back to being the timid girl that you were like on the first day he laid his hands on you.

Slowly, you parted your legs, giving a glimpse of your folds, soaked and glistening with your juice.

“Wider,” he demanded and you fisted the sheets beneath you. You were moving too slow for his liking. Eren reached out a hand, clasping his fingers around your ankle, and yanked you forward until you found your body sliding down the bed. You yelped in surprise, your legs were dangling over the edge when he placed both hands on your thighs, gripping them hard enough to leave bruises. He forced you to spread your legs as much as you can, exposing your twitching hole to his hungry eyes.

“Ren—”

“Look at you,” he simpered, one hand pinning your thigh to the bed while the other one slid up your leg, his fingertips ghosting over your pussy’s lips. “You’re drenched, Sweetheart.” Eren plunged two fingers inside his mouth, coated them with saliva, and brought them back down to glide between your folds. He pushed two digits inside without warning, crooking them up and making your entire body jolt in sensation. He tittered, retracting his fingers only to push them back inside his mouth, his tongue swirling to get a sliver of your taste. He kept his eyes on you as he let out a little mmm around his fingers. He slid them out, his smirk was salacious. “I’ve missed you, baby girl.”

You were on the verge of vocalizing his name when he grabbed the front of your gown, forcing you to sit on the bed before he clasped his fingers around your throat. You were being lifted to your knees, groaning into his mouth as he burned you with his kiss. His tongue pushed past your lips, moving in a maddening dance against yours that left you squirming. His grip around your neck was tight, suffocating you with his hand and his kiss at the same time.

When he released you, his face hovered above yours, letting you taste the scent of peppermint in his breath. “You should be glad that you’re smart enough to fuck yourself at the sounds of me fucking this little cunt,” he emphasized by plunging his fingers harshly between your folds. “If I had caught you watching someone else’s video, you know I wouldn’t be so forgiving.”

“I-I wouldn’t—” He tightened his grip, ending your sentence abruptly in a choke.

“Speak only when I tell you to,” he growled. “You’re my fucking bitch for the night. Behave.”

Thrill suffused your body like a shot of adrenaline. You melted in his hold, your lips parted in a strangled whimper.

Eren kissed you once, softly, languidly, but when he dragged his lips to your ear, his voice was perilous. “Want me to fuck you, baby?”

“P-please,” you answered, begging at his mercy.

He purred, his smirk was pressing against the skin below your earlobe. “Where do you want me?”

You swallowed thickly. “I want you inside me, Daddy.”

He chuckled, pleased at the title you gave him. Removing his hand from your throat, he squeezed your jaws until you felt his nails digging into your skin. His lips were only a breath away when he whispered, “Pathetic little slut.”

He ripped your thin nightgown with both hands, shredding everything in one try. He tossed you back to the bed so carelessly that your nude body bounced once before you settled on the sheets. He removed his blazer, his gaze never left yours, only getting heavier by the second. The white shirt he was wearing was plastered to his sculpted chest. Eren was still as sturdy as he was five years ago, his muscles were drawn by the angels themselves. “Go on,” he said as he rolled each of his sleeves up to his elbow. “Put that toy back inside. You didn’t get to finish before, did you?”

You wanted him to touch you so badly that you wanted to go on your knees and beg him for it. Even without using your words, Eren could see it. “Let me know when you’re about to cum.” For once, he let his heavenly smile return. “I want you to squirt on my face.”

Your breathing ragged. “Yes, Daddy.” You reached for your vibrator again, feeling your heart beating so fast at the way your husband was watching you closely. When you were about to push it inside, he stopped you.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit dry?” One corner of his mouth was raised higher than the other, gazing down at you so pompously. “You should do something about it, Sweetheart. Don’t want my little whore to hurt herself. That’s my job.”

You knew he wasn’t referring to the bottle of lube on your nightstand. He wanted you to give him a show. Breathing heavily, you pushed the vibrator inside your mouth. You could taste yourself on the silicone, feeling absolutely humiliated that you had to suck a plastic cock in front of your husband with your legs spread open. Eren leaned forward, landing a palm on the sheets as he drew the sex toy away from your hand. “Here, let me help you.” He jammed it back in, choking you and fucking your mouth with the toy until you felt tears brimming in your eyes. You gagged in reflex, your fingers clutching around his wrist to stop him. “Don’t choke. Hold it in,” he chuckled, easily dismissing your feeble attempt. “You can do it, baby. You know mine is twice as big.” He repeated his actions several times. By the time he pulled it away, you were coughing.

“Think of it as a warm-up,” he said as he pushed the vibrator inside you up to the hilt, not caring if your body was still tense to have a foreign object slide past your ring. “Before I wreck you apart with my cock later.”

He switched on the button, eyes gleaming in amusement at the way you were squirming at the sensation. “Keep your voice down.” He clamped his mouth around your nipple as he pumped it fast inside you. “I’m not gonna let you cry over a fucking toy.”

Despite his warning, you couldn’t hold back your whimper. The sensation was too much. He was pushing it too deep, too hard, too fast, sucking and biting on your sensitive bud all the while. “Ah! Ren—mmph!” He slapped a palm over your mouth, removing his mouth from your chest to hover his face above yours.

“Too much, baby?” He asked almost melodiously. “Here, let me tone it down.”

Eren clicked on the buttons, putting the level of intensity to the maximum. You jerked forward, arching your back, your legs shaking from the vigorous vibration that ran up your skin. He took in your features, enjoying every bit of your expression as you turned into a sobbing mess. “Tell me when you’re about to cum,” he reminded you, his wrist moving back and forth. “Wanna drink all that fucking juice, baby.” He dipped his head in the crook of your neck, his fangs teasing your supple skin. “Come on, give it to me. Give it to Daddy.”

His words worked like magic and with a few more thrusts, you clutched your fingers on his shoulders, fisting his shirt. “I’m��I’m about to cum—”

Eren slid out the toy and flung it away without a care. Before you could whimper at the loss, he hooked his arms around your thighs and dove between your legs. He darted out his tongue, eating you out in the way that left you gasping and tugging on his hair. “Fuck, Daddy—” The word slipped out your mouth as your legs closed around his head.

Eren growled, pinning your thighs back to the sheets as he lapped up and down your folds. You could feel the tip of his nose grazing against your clitoris every time and when you mewled, he finally closed his lips around it, sucking hard on the nub. That was the final push you needed to reach your ecstasy. You were squirting on his face, a sprinkle of your juice stained his cheeks before Eren took the rest inside his mouth. “Finally,” he breathed out, panting as he continuously lapped at your cunt like a starving man. “Been waiting for weeks to taste you again, baby. Mmm,” he moaned, his tongue dipping inside your entrance to clean every last drop. “So fucking sweet, I want to eat you up all night.”

You were dizzy, breathless, and spent but Eren was far from done. He unfastened his tie with one hand, letting it hang loose on his collar. “On your knees,” he commanded but you were too weak to comply right away. “What, you’re tired?”

He permitted you to speak. “Give…” You swallowed, your throat felt parched. “Give me five minutes… M-my legs are shaking—”

Eren bent himself down, grabbing you by your jaws again. “I don’t care if your legs are shaking,” he said through gritted teeth with barely an inch of space between your faces. “I’m not finished.”

He brought you up, forcing you to sit on your heels as he stood on his knees before you. “Look at me.” You tilted up your chin at his command, hooded eyes meeting his lustful ones. A proud smirk painted his face as he observed your features. “Such a pretty little bitch,” he simpered, his lean fingers stroking your cheek. “Whimpering like one too.” Eren shoved his thumb inside your mouth as his other fingers were glued against the underside of your jaw. He forces your mouth open, pressing his pad against your papillae. “I’m gonna fill you up tonight, baby girl. In every way possible.”

You closed your lips around his thumb before you sucked on it, treating it like his cock. His eyes glazed with desire when he pulled his hand and slapped you across the face.

Fuck, it burns, you thought, as the stinging pain his palm left on your skin spread across your cheek. But this was what you wanted, wasn’t it? You had asked him—no, challenged him to do this. “I don’t think you’ll ever have the heart to slap me,” you remembered the words you’d once said to him. “You can be rough in bed, sure, but you’re always so… vanilla. I want you to treat me like you did to me that morning, Ren. Calling me your cumslut, treating me like one. It was exciting. I think it would be a nice change if we—”

“You seem distracted.” Eren slapped you again, ending your thoughts short. It wasn’t hard enough to leave his handprint on your skin, but the pain was searing nonetheless. “Don’t you want this, baby?” His fingers returned to grasp your throat, lifting you up. “Don’t you want me to treat you like a fucking whore?”

“Y-yes,” you choked out. His grip was so tight that your nerves were screaming in agony. “Yes, Daddy.”

“And what do you say?”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“Good. Now, show me.” He unwound his hair tie, letting his silky smooth chestnut hair cascade down to his shoulder. He reached behind you, using the elastic band to tie up your strands in a messy ponytail. “I want to see how grateful you are.”

You nodded. Your fingers, albeit a bit shaky, toyed with the button of his slacks, tugging down his zipper. You lowered his trousers just enough to free him out of his briefs, taking his cock with both hands and stroking it to life. You started by kissing him on his tip, letting him know the softness of your lips before your tongue came to play.

“Eyes over here,” Eren reminded you, and you looked up from underneath your eyelashes. The sight of you acting so docile sent his blood running south. “Dart out your tongue.” You obeyed, giving him small licks on his slit as you used one hand to pump his dick. He snorted, immensely pleased at how submissive you were. “Naughty kitten. Gonna milk my cock dry after this?”

You dragged your lips to the side, tracing the veins on his shaft with your tongue. “Yes, Daddy.”

“If you waste a drop, I’m gonna punish you.”

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

“Good. Now open up. I’m gonna fuck your face.” When you weren’t moving fast enough, Eren pulled your head back by your ponytail. Your mouth slightly opened in a gasp and he used the chance to slap his cock against your lips. “Wider.” You complied. Eren didn’t waste a second. He drove his length entirely inside your cavern in one try, hitting the back of your throat. Your lids closed in reflex, your mewls muffled by his skin. “Keep your fucking eyes on me.” Your red, glistening eyes shot open to meet him as you struggled to breathe. His disparaging smile made him look wicked. “You look the best when you have my dick in your mouth, Sweetheart. Come on, take me deeper.”

He closed whatever space that was left, keeping your nose pressed against his pelvis, and blocking your airways for about three seconds before he released you. You coughed, gasping for air, choking on your own spit. A little longer than that and you would’ve gagged.

“You remember our safe word, baby?” He held you by the chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as he spoke. You nodded, tasting the saltiness of the tears that glid down to your lips. “Good. I want you to keep that in mind. I won’t slow down. You want me to be rough on you and I’m here to give it to you. I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk. You have my words on that, but…” he paused, swatting the bangs out of your eyes. He broke the tension for a moment. His touch was gentle, reminding you that it was still your husband underneath this vicious persona. That this was just a performance—a role that you asked him to play. There was a genuine worry in his voice when he said, “If it gets too much, say the word and I’ll stop immediately.”

“I’m okay,” you promised him with a smile. Eren was terrifying before, but that was part of the game, part of the excitement. You kissed the hand that caressed your face, your lips brushing against his palm. “I’m all right, Ren. You can do whatever you want with me. I’m enjoying this,” you purred, leaning into his touch like how a small kitten would. “Truly.”

He hesitated for only a couple of seconds before his smirk returned. And that was it. He wouldn’t ask for it again. You wanted him to drive you to your limit? So be it.

His palm smacked against your cheek, throwing your face to the side. “Then get back to work.”

Still a bit dazed, you tried your best to please him with your tongue, hollowing your cheeks around him and pulling away with an obscene pop. Eren was about to thrust inside your mouth when suddenly his phone rang. The ringtone echoed from the inside chest pocket of his blazer, growing persistently with every second passing by. He reached over to his side with a sigh, snatching his phone. The name Levi Ackerman was written on his screen.

Your husband clicked his tongue in vexation. He knew for certain that his strict, foul-mouthed manager would constantly call him until he picked it up. Your curiosity almost turned into words but you stopped yourself at the last second, not wanting to upset him by talking without permission. You stroked his length with your hand, hoping he’d notice the question in your eyes. Who is it?

Your nervous look granted him an idea. Wanting to tease you a little bit further, he pushed your head down to take his cock back inside your mouth. He slid his thumb across the screen, answering the call. “Hey, Levi,” he addressed, pressing his phone against his ear.

You pulled away with a gasp, perplexed at the way your husband so casually greeted his manager—who was also a friend of yours—over the phone. “Ere—” The second you parted your lips, he used the opportunity to ram his cock back inside.

“Shhh, baby, I’m on the phone,” he said, his lopsided grin almost as lewd as the way he rocked his hips. He was enjoying it, loving the way you could do nothing but loosen your jaw and let him fuck your mouth until he was satisfied. He returned to his phone, putting it on speaker so you could listen to the conversation. “What’s up?”

“Am I interrupting something?” Levi’s voice rang from the other line, sounding as formal and cold as ever.

“No, it’s okay. I was talking to Jace.” Eren pushed your hair back, gripping tightly onto your bangs as he picked up his pace, reaching a little deeper with every thrust. “We’re just…” He let out a breath. He could feel how fucking warm and wet your mouth was. A little bit of mirth stood evidently in his voice when he continued, “Playing a little game.” Your husband reached back to seize your ponytail, tugging tightly on your strands. “Watch your teeth,” he uttered sotto voce, his stare degrading.

“I swear to fucking God, Jaeger, if you’re fucking your wife right now, I’m gonna chop off your tiny fucking dick.”

“I swear, I’m not.” Well, not exactly in the way you’re thinking anyway, he sneered inwardly. “Also, leave my dick alone. I’ve got a wife to please. I don’t wanna make her cry, you know.” He hit the back of your throat, continuously shoving your head down, and maintained that position until you felt suffocated. “Though she does look pretty when she cries.” He knew how harsh he was being, judging by the tears that coated your eyes but he didn’t plan on stopping. He moved his phone away, whispering, “Take it,” as he kept one hand behind your skull, his hips rutting against your mouth. “Take my fucking dick. Ah, fuck, yeah, just like that—you fucking whore—”

“Jaeger!”

Drowning deep in pleasure, he could faintly hear Levi calling his name. He returned to his phone. “Sorry,” he answered breathlessly. “What were you saying?”

“What the fuck are you doing? If you get distracted one more time, I’m gonna—”

“Jesus Christ, enough with the threat already. What’s up?”

The older man sighed, too weary to put on a fight. “I’m calling to let you know that we have someone from Kerrang Magazine looking for you.” Judging from his tone, impatient but not yet aggravated, he was oblivious to what was happening.

Eren released you, thick strings of saliva dribbled down your chin as you gasped frantically for air. He slapped his palm over your mouth before you could cough, reminding you to be silent. “Yeah? Another interview?” He angled your face upward, wanting the light to shine on you so he could witness every detail. You had tears streaming down your face, your lips bruised and glistening with your spit. Eren bent his head down, and for a second, his angelic smile fooled you. Thinking that he was aiming for a kiss, your body jerked when he spat onto your mouth. He giggled, couldn’t help but find this situation amusing. “Okay. When?”

“Now. She wants to interview you over the phone.”

“Now?” His grin grows wider when he sees you shaking your head, your eyes widening in protest. “Yeah, I’ve got some time to kill. I don’t have anything planned.” He framed your jaws, biting his lip at the thought of painting your face with his cum. “Yet.”

“All right. I’ll give her your number then.”

“Tell her to contact me right away.” He observed the way you ran your tongue all over his fingers, coating his digits with your saliva from his tips to his knuckles. “I’m a bit tired. I don’t want to fall asleep while waiting for her call.” Eren inserted his fingers into his mouth, watching you with a pair of mischievous eyes as he rolled his tongue around them, savoring the taste of your saliva mixed with his earlier pre-cum.

“Fine. You better watch your words, Jaeger. Stick to the script I gave you.”

“Yes, Sir.” Ending the call, Eren flung his phone to the bed. “Bend over.” You were being tossed like a rag doll before you could react, your breath knocked out of your lungs as you fell onto the sheets.

“Eren—”

“Shut the fuck up and let me fuck that cunt,” he snarled, spinning you around until you were on all fours. Yanking his tie away from his collar, he wrapped it around your head, the black silk blinding your vision. Eren leaned forward, the material of his shirt grazing your backside as he snickered right beside your ear. “Our sex tape is a little bit outdated, don’t you think? Why don’t we make another one? Maybe this time we can upload it online. Let everyone see how good you are at taking my cock.”

A whimper barely broke free when he shoved your head against the pillow, robbing your ability to speak. He gathered your phone, switched on your camera, and positioned it on the little space on your headboard. The video started recording, filming you from the front. On the screen, Eren could see himself taking off his belt. Both of your bodies were exposed. Your husband was still dressed perfectly in everything but his blazer, while you only had his tie to conceal your eyes.

Smirking in satisfaction, he folded his belt and slapped your ass cheek with it. You flinched, whimpering in both thrill and pain. “You know what I’m so pissed about right now?” He spanked you again, not letting you answer him with words. “It’s the fact that you’re such a fucking whore, you couldn’t even wait for a day for me to come home. What, that fucking hole of yours is so loose now that you had to stuff yourself with a dildo to keep you satisfied? What would happen if I left for a month, huh?” Another slap, this time harder than before that a bruise bloomed instantly on your skin. “What are you going to do when your little toy can no longer please you? You’re gonna look for another dick, baby? Gonna fuck a guy and beg him to fill up your cunt, is that what you’re planning to do?” When the leather met your skin again, your arms quivered under your weight. “Answer me.”

“No!” You cried out. “No, I will never—I will never do that—o-only you, Ren!”

“That’s right, baby.” He chuckled, rewarding you with one last slap before he cast his belt to the side. “You belong to me.”

His cock, still wet and lubricated with your saliva, was held firmly in one hand. He settled it against the crease of your ass, gliding it back and forth. “I haven’t fucked you here in a while.” He probed his tip against your rim. “But it would take time for me to loosen you up and I don’t think I’m up for that. Guess I’m just gonna have to fuck your ass later after I’m done with your cunt.”

You gulped at the thought, your fear and excitement were wrapped into one dizzying emotion, but once his phone rang again, it turned to nothing but panic.

“Oh no, they’re calling me so soon,” Eren sniggered. “What should I do?” His question was rhetorical, answering the call without a trace of shame or remorse in his voice. “Hello?” He spoke, pressing his phone against his ear while he maintained his other hand on your hip. “Yes, that’s me. Oh, yeah, from Kerrang Magazine, right? Hi, Hannah, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

Your heart plummeted to your stomach when you felt your husband nudging the head of his cock against your entrance. “Ere—mmph!” You were being shoved down again, your face buried deep inside your pillow.

“No, you’re not calling at a bad time.” Eren’s voice was exceptionally friendly and enthusiastic, putting on his best behavior. “I was just chatting with my wife. You know, enjoying her—” Eren, without warning, pushed himself inside, nipping on his lip to refrain himself from giggling, “—company.”

You could only whine, biting at the end of your pillow. Even after having that vibrator inside you, you could still feel how he was stretching you out so nicely. Losing your vision somehow heightened your senses, making you feel ten times more sensitive than you already were. Being recorded in this position was already a thrilling thought, but conversing with a stranger during your sexual intercourse? It felt like you were tiptoeing your way on the edge of a cliff.

“Yes, we’re planning to go on a tour during summer,” he let out a breath, almost groaning at the way your warmth was enveloping him at once. He had missed it. God, he’d missed how warm you were. How wet and needy your pussy felt around him. “So far, we’ve got fifty-one cities confirmed.” Your husband kept one hand pressed against a spot between your shoulder blades, pinning your upper body flat against the sheets while he kept your ass raised high in the air.

“Oh, you do?” He chuckled, feigning bashfulness. “I think you’re just being too kind, Hannah, but thank you.” His voice reeked with innocence but the rest of him was anything but. He yanked you back up by your hair, holding you only by your ponytail as he fucked you senseless. A sudden forceful thrust almost sent you knocking your head against the board and you whined.

“Hmm, it’s hard for me to say,” he continued, smacking his palm against your ass to remind you to stay mute. “Sometimes the music itself will lead me in and draw out a kind of weird emotion from me,” he answered yet another question, seemingly unbothered with the way he had his cock sliding in and out of your hole. There was a slight change in his expression when he felt your walls squeezing around him, your thighs quivering as he rubbed a spot inside you just right, but his voice remained steady. “Some of it does end up being autobiographical.” He brought you to your knees, his chest completing the dip of your spine as he grind his hips. His fingers were back inside your mouth to silence the noises, but whenever a whimper sounded a little bit too loud, you could feel him smirking against your ear. He loved it. Deep down, he wanted to get caught. “Yeah, exactly. It’s in those situations where I tend to actually go a bit more autobiographical with the lyrics.” Wanting to switch positions, Eren pulled himself out and rolled you over to your back. “Singing about love or relationships and things like that.”

He spread open your legs, settling himself between your thighs and sliding back in so easily even without using his hand. You had your fingers clawing against the sheets, your mouth covered by the back of your palm as you tried to keep quiet. Your face was decorated prettily with his tie. To Eren, you were the prettiest little slut he’d ever seen in his life. “You mean, my wife?” He chortled lightly into the phone, desirous eyes watching the trail of saliva that rubbed off to your cheek. “Yes, she’s been my inspiration since I was young.”

You couldn’t see what was happening before you, but you could feel it when his lips ghosted over yours. He landed one hand on the sheets, right next to your head. You vaguely could hear a female voice resonating from his phone from the proximity you were in but you couldn’t make out the words. As she spoke, elaborating further on her question, Eren kissed you, softly but deeply, his hips coming to a halt for a moment. He occasionally muttered a small, “Mm-hmm,” between kisses, not giving a fuck over her words.

“No, you’re not wrong,” he said, his thumb and index finger trapping your chin and pulling it down until you had your lips parted. “You could say on some levels some of the fans will know elements of my persona or subconscious better than I do.” As the interviewer elaborated further on his answer, Eren pushed away his phone, whispering, “Stick that tongue out. I wanna see that fucking tongue, open up.” Eren let his saliva pool inside his mouth before he darted his tongue and let it dribble down onto yours. “Swallow.” His eyes glazed with lust as he watched you take it in. He stuck his thumb inside your mouth, tugging down your lower jaw to make sure you had swallowed it all. “Good girl.” He smirked in satisfaction, his face dangling close above yours. “Now, say it with me.” He gestured to you to imitate his words. “Good girl,” he said at the same time you pronounced the words, giggling before he returned to his phone.

“That’s correct, Hannah. But in terms of my personal life, there's not many that know who I really am,” he stated, taking off your blindfold and grinning at you when your gaze met. His eyes were as dark as the night, wild as a starving wolf. “How would I describe myself as a person?” His little laugh gave such a gentle, amiable vibe but the way he was strangling you with his fingers was the exact opposite. Your husband tucked his phone between his ear and his shoulder. “I don’t know.” He had one hand choking you while he slapped your breast with his other one. He started moving again, his hips swaying obscenely. “A devil, maybe?”

He was. He truly was a devil in disguise. Fear started to crawl on your skin when you felt your lungs starting to burn. The sensation of him fucking you fast and rough with pain scorching your senses drove you to the brink. Right before your pleasure could rip through you, Eren stopped everything at once. He was edging you, torturing you, sending enough amount of frustration that made you glare at him.

“Hannah, sorry, can you give me a sec?” He dragged his phone away for a moment, making sure the interviewer wouldn’t pick up his conversation.

“Eren—”

He slapped you across the face, hard and fast. “You better show me some respect,” he uttered disdainfully. “Look at me with those eyes again and I wouldn’t be so kind.”

You gulped, your body left frozen under his smothering gaze. “Y-yes, Daddy.”

Taking your breast in one hand, he squeezed it tightly until you flinched. “You can only cum when I allow you to. You understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He caressed your cheek, soothing the reddened skin even when his eyes still gleamed dangerously. “Good.” Returning to his phone, he dropped the superiority in his voice, reusing his affable tone once more. “Sorry about that. What were you asking me again?”

But he wasn’t making it any easier for you, was it? In fact, Eren was trying his best to make you cum, rubbing your clit on purpose with his thumb as he thrust his dick inside. You couldn’t stop a wanton cry from breaking free, clasping a palm over your mouth a second too late.

Eren was pleased. “What? You heard something weird?” He spoke to the phone, acting nonchalant. “Oh, my daughter is watching TV, maybe that’s why.” He pitched his voice louder, pretending. “Irene, baby, keep it down, okay?” He rammed himself deep. “Daddy’s on the phone right now. I can’t concentrate if you—” he added three more thrusts, pushing you up further against the headboard that you had to reach back and place your arm on the surface to stop your head from knocking against it, “—keep making noises,” he finished with a haughty smirk.

The interview went on for a whole twenty minutes and you were being edged continuously without mercy. You were so close to lashing out when Eren gave a polite chuckle. “No, thank you for interviewing me today. It was really nice talking to you, Hannah. Yeah, take care. Bye.” Eren ended the call, throwing his phone over his shoulder. His pretty crooked teeth peeked behind a devilish grin as he giggled at your expression. “Now, where were we?” He removed his white shirt, giving you a nice view of his abs but he didn't let you marvel at his beauty for too long.

He lifted both of your legs high in the air, pushing them forward until you had your body folded in half. He wasn’t planning to waste any second longer. Both of you had been playing a dangerous, torturous game for half an hour and it drove him feral.

Eren was so deep, deeper than before, deeper than ever, rubbing against your insides in a way that left you wailing. “That’s right, scream for me, baby. Scream for Daddy,” he simpered, sounding breathless and hoarse. “You’re still taking your pills?”

Yes, but you couldn’t remember whether you’ve taken one today. You were too hazy to think about it, or about anything else, really. “I—I don’t know—ah, Ren—”

“You know what?” He moved to your ear. “I don’t care. I’m still gonna stuff your tight little pussy with my cum whether you like it or not. You want to be my cumslut, don’t you? Let me grant your wish.”

Your legs were dangling over his shoulders, your bottom half raised in the air as he plunged himself repeatedly. “Fuck—” He gasped out when your walls quaked around him. “You’re sucking me in. You want to cum, baby?”

You threw your head back, slamming your skull against the pillow as you cried out, “Yes! Yes, I’m so close—”

“Start begging then.”

“Please,” you sobbed out, “Please, let me cum—”

“Again.”

“Daddy, please! I can’t—” Your mouth was opened wide in a silent scream. Lightning bolts of ecstasy shot through your body, going straight to your core. Your orgasm hit you so intensely that you squirted on his cock, feeling nothing but shame when he laughed degradingly at you.

“You came without my permission.” He pulled away to see how much you’d coated his skin with your slick. “Filthy whore.” He slapped his hand against your cunt, the stinging pain causing your body to jolt in response. “You want to be punished?”

“No, Daddy–” He smacked it again, his fingers hitting your swollen clit. “Ah–Daddy, I’m sorry!”

He heard your words well, but even then, he still gave you another slap. “What was that, baby?”

“I’m…” You tried to withstand the throbbing pain that vibrated from between your legs. Your voice was reduced to a whimper. “I’m sorry…”

Under different circumstances, the sight of your eyes glazed by your tears would paint his heart with concern, but for some reason tonight, Eren just wanted to see more. “If you’re sorry,” he brought two of his fingers inside you, pumping them fast in a come-hither motion that made you yelp and squeeze your thighs together. “Spread those fucking legs. I wanna feel you cream all over my fucking dick again.”

You were being overstimulated, your body convulsing in response but your husband left you with no choice. You did as you were told, hooking your arms around your thighs and pulling them up as much as you could until every part of you was exposed.

Eren snorted haughtily, stroking his cock at the sight of your twitching hole. “Now, what do you say, Sweetheart?”

“Please fuck me, Daddy.”

He smirked. “That’s right.”

Something shifted within you as you fell into the dark heat of his eyes, and once he plunged himself back inside you, you were once again consumed by the smothering passion he gave you. You landed a hand on his chest, trying to push him away to give you a moment to catch your breath. “W-wait—”

He removed your hand, grabbing you by your wrist and pinning it down against the sheets. “Shut up,” he growled, quickening his pace. “Take my fucking cock and scream my name. Or do you want me to use my hands again?”

“N-no, Daddy, I—oh my God–” This was pure animal fucking. Not a hint of romance, not a hint of love. And not a hint of your husband underneath the man that shared the same face with him.

Eren could feel that he was so close to being blinded by the explosion of pure bliss. “I’m gonna cum, baby, you ready?”

He let your legs slide off his shoulders as he focused his everything on reaching his high. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you brought him closer until your chests were plastered to one another. Eren smashed his lips against yours, his kiss as forceful and messy as his thrust. “Fuck, so fucking tight—“

“Cum for me,” you plead in his ear, drawing his earlobe between his teeth. “Cum for me, Ren.”

“Ah, baby—” A strangled moan filled the air as he came, his hips stuttering before he slowed down, riding his orgasm. His arms were shaking with exertion, his nose pressing against the side of your throat. You could feel his cock throb with each shot of his cum, filling you up so much that his white seeds trickled out of you, staining the sheets underneath. He was still moving, lazily fucking back every little bit of semen that seeped out and you let him.

When his body stopped trembling, Eren kept himself inside you the way he was, only reaching out one hand to snatch your phone from the headboard. It was still recording until he tapped his thumb on the screen. A new video was saved to the gallery. Tossing the phone to the bed, Eren returned to you, releasing the most blissful sigh as he laid his body flat on top of you.

“Did it really record everything?”

“Yeah, let’s watch it later. Put it on a big screen, grab some popcorn. It’ll be fun.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not going to pull out?” You asked him, your fingers idly playing with his strands.

“No,” he slurred out the word, feeling drowsy and enervated. “Let’s stay like this for a while. I love it when I have my dick inside you. You feel so warm.”

“You’re gross.”

“You’re beautiful.” He elevated his face just enough to kiss your cheek. Joy bubbled up inside him at the sound of your pretty giggles but it only lasted for a few seconds before he turned pensive. “Baby… What if I got you pregnant again?” He mumbled, sounding more like himself than how he had sounded all night. There wasn’t a hint of amusement in his voice. He was concerned, maybe even guilty, for taking out your options. “We haven’t really talked about having another kid.”

The sudden change in his attitude was so baffling, that it robbed a burst of laughter out of your mouth. “You’re so cute.” You circled your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until his lips were a breath away. “It’s okay.” You kissed him once, unwinding the taut muscles on his shoulders. “We’ll let God decide for us. Whatever it turns out to be, I’m ready.”

He smiled, so delicately and beautifully, as he stroked your head, pushing your hair behind your ear. He lost himself in your gaze, planting a soft kiss on your temple before he asked you in a whisper, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you too much?”

“Just a little bit,” you giggled. “I can’t believe you really slapped me. Like seven times.”

“Oh my God.” He turned pale. “I’m so sorry, baby. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you like that but you said you wanted me to do it and I—” You interrupted him with a kiss, letting him feel the glee in your smile. When you broke away, he was pouting at you. “You’re laughing at me.”

“I am,” you replied with a grin. “Were you really just pretending for my sake? I think you enjoyed it a little bit too much, treating me like a whore.”

A flush crept up his cheek. “W-well, I, uhh…” He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t say it wasn’t enjoyable.”

“Can’t believe you ripped open my nightgown.”

Eren turned a shade redder. “F-for dramatic effects.”

Though amused, you gave him a look, judging him with narrowed eyes. “You could’ve just slapped me once and stopped there, you know.”

“I know, I’m so sorry,” he whined apologetically, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he drowned in shame. “It’s just… You looked so cute after I slapped you. I think I I got too… excited.”

“I’ve always known you were a bit of a sadist.”

He pulled away, slightly panicking as he peered into your eyes. “Will you forgive me?”

You melted into a smile, stroking his face. “Of course, Rennie.”

He leaned into your touch. “Will you still love me regardless?”

“Well,” you faked a weary sigh. “I’m married to you so…”

“Babyyy,” he nuzzled his nose against your neck, acting similarly to a dog, begging for your forgiveness. “Please still love me.”

“Fine, I’ll try my best.” Eren brushed his lips against yours again, laughing into your mouth. You stopped him before he could deepen the kiss, placing one finger on his lips. “On one condition, though.”

“Anything for my beautiful wife,” he replied, kissing your fingertip.

“Let me make you my bitch and slap you next time too.”

He was baffled at first, then he stared flatly at you. “Couldn’t you have phrased it more romantically?”

“Let me make you my bitch and slap you next time, baby boy.”

“Literally didn’t change anything but okay.” Bestowing another kiss, Eren pulled himself out of you, kicked the rest of his clothing away, and rolled to his back. He was ready to cuddle close as he waited for his strength to return so he could take a shower. But to his surprise, you shifted and mounted yourself on his hips, your hands landing on the tight muscles of his abdomen.

“B-baby?”

You slapped him hard across the cheek, tossing his face to the side. Eren had his lips parted in shock when he returned his gaze to yours. “Bro, that felt so personal!”

You chortled. “Did I hurt your feelings, Princess?”

“Well, no, but—” You slapped him again and he whined. “Babyyyy, you make me feel like a whore!”

“You are a whore.” You yanked him up harshly by his necklace, forcing him to sit on the bed as you straddled his lap. “You’re my whore for the night. Gonna be a good boy for me, Rennie?”

He gulped. “Give me a five minutes break? I'm a bit tired—”

"I don't care if you're tired. I'm not finished." You curled your fingers around his throat, your grin was even more wicked than anything he had showcased earlier. "I'm gonna take care of you now, baby."

"Have mercy on me, please."

***

AN: DON'T LOOK AT ME OKAY Y'ALL REQUESTED THIS!!! I hope you enjoyed it despite all the slapping LMAO thanks so much for reading! Also huge thanks to Sandra for beta-reading this for me, you're the real MVP, babe!

Tagging: @l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @didiyogo @coyloves @erenbean @tehehebri @justasketch @infnteen @naiomiwinchester @spiderlingh @doyochii @ahornyenby @aengelren @sakurashell @princess-jaeger @resonancesoul @blrqt @cacapeepee @persyhange @jaegersdiary @erentoes @trashgremlin36 @meed18 @j0livi0ni @snowflake-201 @jaymihawk @eva-gates @claudevonstrukesblog @sofijaeger @rinsie @blanccofiie @ereninbunu @natanialora @khinjito @ackersune @watermelon-online @tropicsoda @damselofblueroses @alexackrman @bblgumz @jurrasicpork @erenjaegercult @holycandypizza

#eren smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff #aot x reader #aot smut #snk smut #snk x reader #eren x reader smut #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren #eren jaeger #eren yeager #the last song canon #in another life canon

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natsvenom · 3 months

Text

Angel

Jason DiLaurentis x fem!reader

SUMMARY: You’ve spent the past few days being distant with your boyfriend, Jason, after you and the liars are go to a coffee shop in town and run into his ex-girlfriend Cece Drake.

WARNINGS! Age gap, slight angst, alcohol ingestion, reader has an eating disorder (anorexia), body shaming, etc.

You and the liars walk into the Apple Rose Grill. Everything was stressful, per usual. Garrett had been let off the hook for murder and now Wilden was trying to make Hanna look guilty. There was currently a court order out for them to take a sample for Hanna’s blood. That would’ve been fine, knowing Hanna isn’t guilty. Except A has a way of making an innocent person a guilty one.

“Take it from me, you’re always better off with a really good lie.” A feminie voice said from behind you guys. You physically felt your heart stop in your chest. The voice was insanely similar to Alison’s.

“Is it just me or did that sound a lot like…” Emily mumbled. Younturned around to see a blonde girl standing at the register. There was no way that could be her, right?

“…Alison.” You guys said in unison.

The girl turned around with a smile on her face, but it quickly faded as she saw you guys staring at her like she was ancient relic, “Something wrong?” She asked.

“Oh, no, sorry.” Aria apologized, “You just sound a lot like one of our friends.”

“Hope she’s brilliant.” The girl said, “What’s her name?”

“Alison DiLaurentis.” You told her, staring at her like she was a lost dog.

She looked at you guys in realization, “You were friends of Ali’s.” She says, “Me too, I’m Cece.” You had heard that name before, you just weren’t exactly sure where from.

“Spencer.” Spencer spoke, greeting herself.

“Melissa Hastings little sister.” Cece noted, “Ali talked about you. She talked about all of you. A lot.”

“How do you know Ali?” You dared to ask.

“Before I moved to L.A our families rented summer homes in Cape May. We went through an intense couple weeks together. I dated her brother, Jason. She never mentioned me to you guys?” Cece explained. You suddenly felt tense hearing the mention of Jason. You could only imagine what she meant by an intense couple of weeks. But there was no need for you to be jealous, right? Jason was with you not her. But in the moment you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly gorgeous Cece Drake was. She had beatiful blonde hair, blue eyes, easily a size 4, and not to mention her confident outgoing personality. She was everything you weren’t.

For some reason this realization made you sick to your stomach. She looked perfectly healthy, while the reason you had looked the way you did was from practically making yourself sick. Almost your whole life you had been worried about your appearance; making sure you never ate more than 1000 calories a day, over exerrting yourself, and excercising till you felt your body break down.

You knew you were destroying yourself, but you wanted to be pretty. You wanted to be like the girls at your school who all the boys fawned over. You wanted to be the girl who was always picked first for group projects. You wanted to be the girl who wasn’t afraid to wear a crop top in public. You wanted to be like Alison, beautiful and destructive.

Alison had told you something that’s always stuck with you, “You’re pretty, but sweetie you need to drop a few pounds.” When she was alive you easily weighed 130 pounds. By the time your family moved back to Rosewood, you weighed 100, and now you weigh 110. everyone had noticed the dramtic changes over the years. Your family had done nothing but worry about you, the boys at school would whistle at you and make inappropriate remarks, Hanna was someone who you could relate to, and Jason was someone you could rely on.

Before you guys started dating, he found out about your eating disorder. At the time you and the other liars were still questioning if he was A, but after he had helped you get better you never once thought about him being A again, and dismissed the girls when every they tried to convince you he was just being friendly to get information. Luckily, things were different now.

You wondered why Jason had never brought up Cece Drake before. You silently wondered if there was any part of him that still thought about her. I mean she’s gorgeous, who wouldn’t be thinking about her.

You had been zoned out for so long you hadn’t even been paying attention to their conversation until you saw her about to leave, but she stopped in her tracks, “Do any of you girls know if Jason is seeing anyone? I hear he looks really good now-a-days.” Cece asked.

The rest of the girls looked at you subtly before turning back to Cece, “No clue.” Spencer said quickly, shrugging her shoulders. Cece nodded her head.

“Well if you see him tell him I say hi.” She said in flirtatious tone, making your skin crawl.

It had been two days since you last spoke to Jason. You spent the last couple of days worrying about your body, spiraling back into that same old self concious loop you had been so familiar with. He was starting to get worried about you. He had absolutely no idea what was going on with you.

You sigh, sitting in the driver’s seat of your car. You know you shouldn’t do this, but you really needed something to take your mind off Cece Drake.

Jason sighed as he sat down on the front porch of his house. He had absolutely no explanation for what was goingon and it was driving him crazy. He turned his head when he heard footsteps walking up to him. He had hoped it would be you, but was met with slight disappointment when he saw someone else.

“Hey.” Spencer greeted softly, walking up the porch to sit by her brother. He simply nodded at her, looking down at the cement floor, which suddenly became very interesting.

“I met Cece Drake this morning.” Spencer revealed. Jason looked up, a confused expression on his face. He hadn’t heard that name in so long, nor thought of it. Spencer could see the gears turning in his head.

“What?” She questioned.

“Was y/n with you?” He asked, looking at her desperately for answers.

“Yeah, why?” It suddenly clicked in his head what was going on with you. You weren’t ignoring him because you were mad at him. You were ignoring him because of something she had said.

You sat on a hard red stool at the bar, thanking Alison internally for getting you a fake id. All you had to do was flash it to the bartender and he came back with exactly what you thought you needed. Alcohol.

You had only drank a little bit, but you were already starting to feel tipsy. You were clearly a light weight, and almost everyone knew it.

“What’s a pretty girl like yourself doing here all alone?” A masculine voice asked from beside you. You turned your head to see a man sitting next to you, a glass of something that was defintely stronger than what you were drinking.

“I’m wondering the same thing myself.” You heard another voice say from behind you. You didn’t have to think twice about it to know who it was. You spun yourself around in the stool and were met with his warm green eyes. You groaned dramatically, pushing youself off the stool. You forgot that the stool was hightened, and practically fell right into Jason’s arms.

His arms wrapped around you quickly, pulling you back up straight. Well, straight as you could get in that moment, “I’m taking you home.” He said strictly, making you giggle. It wasn’t really funny, but right now everything seemed comical to you. You pushed past him walking out of the bar. You felt the cold night air hit your face. It felt good at first, but then it made you feel sick. You threw up into the bushes right outside the bar, right before warm hands pulled your hair back for you.

“I don’t feel good.” You mumbled, wiping your mouth off.

“Mm, I wonder why.” Jason quipped, rubbing your back as an attempt to soothe you. You groaned, shoving your head into his chest. He put one of his hands in your hair, rubbing your head comfortably.

“You smell good.” You mumbled into his chest, making let out a breathy laugh, “Can we make out now?” You asked, pulling him down by his jacket. He kissed the top of your head.

“Not right now pretty girl.” He said softly. You groaned, the annoyance making you roll your eyes. You pushed away from him, walking through the parking lot, Jason following closely behind you.

You stopped in the middle of the parking lot, looking at a group of trees intensly, “Hey, who put those there?” You wondered, observing the trees like they were the most interesting thing in the world. Jason came up behind you, shrugging his jacket off and putting it over your shoulders. He didn’t say anything, knowing that explaining the process of the life cycle of a tree to a drunk person would just end up with and endless amount of stupid questions.

“I think you should take a nap and then google it in the morning.” He said, intertwining his hand with yours as he walked you to the car, opening the door for you and helping you get in. The car ride home was relatively quite, but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence, it was nice.

When you got to the DiLaurentis house, Jason’s hands stayed on your waist as he guided you up the stairs. You plopped down on his bed as he pulled something out of his closet for you to wear. He helped you unzip your little black dress and pulled his hoodie over your head. You yawned as you threw yourself back onto his bed. He sat down next you, pulling the covers over you and placing a gentle kiss on your head.

“She’s pretty.” You mumbled into the cold pillow, grasping it in your hands. Jason sighed, knowing this conversation would end up happening one way or another.

“Whose the girl that I let sleep in my bed everyday and steal every single clothing item I own?” He teased, making you smile into the pillow. You knew he was right.

“But—”

“But nothing. I love you, and only you.” He assured, pulling you into him as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. You cuddled into his chest, grasping his shirt in your hands.

“I love you too, Jase.” You yawned.

“I know angel.”

#jason dilaurentis #jason dilaurentis x reader #pll #pretty little liars #imagine #spencer hastings #light angst #aria montgomery #hanna marin #emily fields #alison dilaurentis #cece drake

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kmblckbk · 4 months

Text

Bloodweave X reader

Astarion x f!Reader x Gale

Word count: 3k

18+

Warning: contains smut and minor mention of SA

Summary: After a big battle you return to camp with you companions, and you can’t wait to rest. But 2 of your companions have other ideas.

*english is not my first language so i'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.*

------------------------------------------------------------------------

you can’t wait to go to sleep. The last fight was hard and on top of that a certain wizard and vampire kept asking for your attention. You knew Gale wouldn’t like sharing, he was a focus on one person kind of guy. and Astarion, well, he opened up to you about what he went through with Cazadore a little and you’d understand he’s not ready for a physical relationship just yet. He’s been more open about the idea ever since he’s killed Cazadore, but you knew trauma took a long time to heal. But you would do anything to help him, in whatever way you could.

The 2 man have been battling over your attention. You liked it, but some times it became exhausting. Especially because you liked them both. It hurt you to think about one day having to choose between them. You’ve been nice to both, you’ve been implying that you’d see a future with both of them, of course they don’t know about your feelings for the other. But you just couldn’t choose, not yet at least.

you walk into your tent, exhausted from the day, and are met with the 2 men that’s been on your mind. None other than Gale and Astarion are waiting for you. “Hello darling” Astarion says. “oh uh hi” you say awkwardly, did they find out? “Gale and I had an very interesting conversation” he says walking up to you, so close you can smell him, he smells like rosemary and brandy, you didn’t know you would like that combination as much as you do. “yeah, and you were the main topic” Gale says coming up to you too, standing close to Astarion. Gale smells of old books, like he’d spent days in the library and something sweet to like rosewood. “oh” you say, dreading where this was going, you were not ready to choose yet. “you see Gale here told me you were seeing him, but I thought we had something special darling?” Astarion says, his tone is not sweet, it’s dark and something else. “and here I was thinking I was the only one who had your heart” Gale tells you, he sounds more disappointing, yet not to the extend you thought he would.

“i-I” you try to explain, but what was there to explain. You are caught red handed and now it was time to tell them the truth. “I’m sorry, I just. I like you, both of you. please don’t make me choose, I’m not ready” you tell them. “hmm what to do, what to do” Astarion says. “what do you think Gale?”. “well if she can’t choose….” They seem to communicate without using words, and your getting a little nervous. “oh look Gale we’re making our girl nervous”. Your cheeks heat up, their girl? “hm, maybe we need to show her” Gale says. “show me what?” you ask nervously. “you’ll see” Astarion says darkly, more dark than you ever hear him before. “hands out darling” he says and you do. you don’t know where he got it from but he binds your wrist together with rope. “what?” you ask shocked. You hear Gale chuckle as he comes up behind you. “don’t worry, we’ll take care of you” you heard Astarion’s voice when it got dark, but you never knew Gale could do the same and you feel yourself already getting wet at the sound of his dark voice. “you sure you can handle us both” he whispers into your ear while Astarion binds your hands above you. “what” you whisper. “do you think you can handle us both?” Gale asks again before kissing your neck. “hmmhmm” you murmur. A hands replaces his soft lips as Astarion holds you tightly by your throat. “he asked you something darling” he says, his pupils blown wide. “yes” you gasp. “you sure?” “yes” you breath out again. “good” Astarion says as he let’s go of you. they switch places, Astarion now standing behind you and Gale in front of you. Gale kisses you deeply before he drops to his knees before you.

“may i?” he asks looking up at you. you nod your head. “use your words love” he demands. “yes, please” you tell him. he lowers your pants and underwear before he places a soft kiss on your wet heat. You gasp. “gods I wanted to taste you for so long”. He says before he kisses and licks you where you need him most. “fuck yes” you moan, letting you head fall back on Astarion’s shoulder. “look at how he’s eating you darling, he looks like a starved man, all for you” Astarion says while he holds you so you can see exactly what Gale is doing to you “fuck” you breath out at the sight. “it get’s me hungry too” Astarion says brushing your hair back from your neck. You feel a sting before pleasure washes over you as he sinks his teeth into you and drinks. You never knew it heightened your feelings this much. You moan as the feeling overwhelm you. “shhhh be quite darling, otherwise the whole camp will know what we’re doing to you” Astarion tells you, before he goes back to sucking your neck.

You gasp out loud as you feel Gale’s finger enter you while his tongue still strokes your clit. “what did I tell you” Astarion says as his hand covers your mouth. “stay silent, or we have to punish you darling”. You try your hardest but the pleasure is to great and you feel your orgasm rise. Gale was not lying when he told you he had a skilled tongue, gods. “oh she’s about to come” Gale says against you clit making a moan slip, but it’s being muffled by Astarion’s hand. “that fast” Astarion says mockingly. He grabs your throat and places a bruising kiss on your lips as your orgasm washes over you. “good girl” he whispers against your lips as you pant. “you taste absolutely define dear” Gale says staring up at you. “fuck Gale that was amazing” you tell him stroking his cheek lovingly. “oh we aren’t done yet darling” Astarion says, a grin on his face that means trouble. you look over at him. “are you sure, I, I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t ready for yet” you tell him, while still trying to catch your breath. “don’t worry about me darling, I’m right where I want to be” he says before you feel a finger against your back entrance. “oh fuck Astarion” you moan. “you sure you can take us both?” he asks, pushing against my back entrance harder. “I didn’t think…” you breath out. “you didn’t think what? that we meant at the same time? Darling you know better than that”. With that he pushes the tip of his finger inside you, slowly. “fuck” you breath out, it unlike anything you ever felt before. “hmmm I like virgin ass, think you can take me while Gale fills your other hole” he whispers. As on que gale starts removing his clothes. “someone is eager, I think he likes the idea” Astarion says darkly. “I, I don’t-” you breath out and moan as Astarion pushes his finger deeper inside you. “look at your eager ass sucking my finger in, you are a whole less innocent then I thought you were” he says “are you ready for Gale to fuck you darling?” he asks. “y-yes” you breath out, you need more. “eyes on me then” Gale says, grabbing your chin roughly and making you look at him. “you sure you can take me?” he asks. You nod franticly. He looks so good standing there in just his underwear, you wanna touch him, kiss him but your bound in place by the rope. “give our girl what she wants” Astarion says before he plunges another finger inside your ass.

Gale removes his underwear, and you suddenly don’t feel so sure you can actually take him. “don’t look so surprised love” Gale says his voice darker than you ever heard it before. “i-I” you can’t get the words out as a moan slips from your lips, when he enters you in one thrust. Your head falls back and your eyes close at the feeling of his thick length inside you. you never had someone this big before. “fuck your tight” Gale groans. “oh fuck” you breath feeling to full and overwhelmed already, and he hasn’t even moved yet. “How does she feel?” Astarion asks Gale. “so. Fucking. Tight” he groan as he slowly starts moving. “oh fuuuck” you moan, unable to stay silent. Your hands search for something to hold on to, but the rope is keeping you from it. “does it feel good darling” Astarion whispers in your ear as he stretches your ass with his fingers. “f-fuck y-yes” you breath out as Gale picks up speed. “hmm you like gale fucking you while I stretch your ass?”. “yes” you moan again. “good girl, look how well you’re taking us” Gale groans as he picks up speed, hitting that one spot inside you that makes you scream. Astarion’s hand clamps over your mouth again “what did I say about keeping silent darling?” he says mockingly. I moan into his hand as Gale thrust in harder and deeper. “fuck your ready to come again aren’t you, I feel you fucking clamping on my fingers” he groans. “please” you beg them, but the sound is muffles by Astarion’s hand. “what was that darling….you want it harder and…deeper?” Astarion says mockingly. “I think she said she wants it harder Gale” he says. you try to shake your head, it’s already to much but Gale picks up speed even faster and Astarion pushes a third finger in your ass. You come so hard you see stars. But both men don’t stop. No, they continue their ungodly rhythm.

“I think she’s ready for a little more” Astarion says as he pulls his finger out your ass. “no” you breathe. “I can’t” you say trying desperately to catch your breath after the best orgasm you’ve had in your life. “you can darling” Astarion says as he swiftly removes his clothing. Gale’s ruthless tempo slows and he just shallowly thrusts in and out you as a softer pace now. “hold her open for me” Astarion asks him. Gales hands come down on your ass and he pulls you ass cheeks apart. “fuck your beautiful” you hear Astarion say, before you feel something push against your back entrance. “fuck” you groan as you feel him push against you. “relax darling, let me in” he says in a more caring voice now. He pushes against you “fuck I need some lube” he says. not even a second later Gale magically conjures a bottle of lube. “and that’s why I like wizards” Astarion says before you feel something cold touch your ass. You feel Gale pull out of you just when Astarion enters you. at first it feels unpleasant, but then it feels full, so fucking full. “gods” you breathe. “you’re doing so well love” gale says his hand leaving your ass as he circles your clit, slowly, but firmly. Until Astarion is seated fully inside. “you feel so good darling” Astarion half groans “are you okay?” he asks you. “yes” you breathe “are you?” you ask him, you hate that you can’t see him right now. “I’m more than okay darling” he says before he slowly starts moving. “oh shit” you moan, why does it feel good. It also hurt a little but in some way that made you even more wet. “fuck yes darling” you hear Astarion groan. You take it as a good sign, and that he’s enjoying himself so your mind stops worrying about him.

You close your eyes enjoying the feeling. Your eyes shoot open when you feel Gale’s cock move through your folds. “Gale” you gasps as he puts himself against your entrance. “you wanted us both, so you get us both” he says darkly before he slowly thrusts inside you. your vision blurs at the overwhelming fullness you feel. “fuck I can fucking feel you” Astarion mutters to Gale. “fuck” Gale groans in response. I’m already feeling another orgasm rise. “please…please” you have no idea what you’re begging for, the stimulation overwhelming you. “come for us” Gale orders as he starts moving in and out of you again. You’re so close, you’re almost there…….. Astarion’s lips crash on Gale’s and the sight of there tongue’s clashing is enough to make you burst.

Your visions blackens for a second. Both Astarion and Gale have stopped moving. “there she is, good girl” Gale murmurs as he places a loving kiss on your forehead. “fuck I can’t anymore” you breathe. “you can do one more” Astarion says as you feel him pull out your ass. “I want to look at you as I come” he says, as he and Gale switch places.

Astarion lifts you up and you wrap your legs around him, kissing him deeply. You moan into the kiss as he enters you. the feeling is so overwhelming you don’t know if you can handle one more orgasm. “no, I can’t. please” you beg. “you can do one more darling” Astarion says as he kisses you again. you feel Gale’s presents at your back before he trust inside your back entrance in one thrust. “hmmhhmmm f-ffuuuckk” you have no idea where the sounds are coming from that leave you, and who might hear. But you’re too far gone to care. You only feel them. Gale and Astarion as they thrust in and out of your holes in a brutal paste. “fuck I’m gonna come” Gale groans. “fuck, me to” Astarion says back. “you gonna come with us love” Gale says kissing your neck. “oh fuck…FUCK!” you scream out as yet another orgasm breaks you. you feel Gale and Astarion come inside you almost at the same time. You have no idea if your still coming or if it’s another orgasm. Astarion cut’s the rope holding your hands bound to the tent. Your hand are still bound as you put them around Astarion’s neck. “I love you guys” your words come out as if your drunk or something, but you mean what you say. or at least you think you do. thinking is a little hard right now. “darling” you hear Astarion whisper. “darling come back to us”. It’s then that you realize you have closed your eyes and your face is burried in Astarion’s neck. “hm?” you open your eyes and looking at him. “there she is again” he says.

Gale walks into the tent, you didn’t even realize he left, or noticed when he pulled out of you. “let’s clean you up” he says as Astarion puts you down and unties your hands. After Gale has cleaned you up you lay down in your tent. Your cuddled up between the 2 men. Your head lays on Gales chest while Astarion’s hand is slung over you. “so you’re really okay with this?” I ask Gale. “yes, I’d do anything for your love. Besides, he isn’t so bad” he says nodding to Astarion before kissing you softly.

Astarion has been suspiciously silent, and it worries you. you roll around to look at him. he seems lost in his mind. “Astarion?” you ask softly. You should have know he was not ready for this. “Astarion?” you ask again when he doesn’t react. “yes darling?” he says looking over at you, as his normal charming self, like nothing is wrong. “are you okay?” you ask him softly. “I am” he says smiling at you. you look at him, really look, and you know there is more to it than that. Tears spring into your eyes as you really look at him. because he doesn’t look fine. And you hate yourself for being so caught up in your lust and desires you didn’t think how this would be for him. “hey, what are the tears for darling?” he asks as he brushes them away. “I’m sorry, I just, I didn’t want you to do anything you clearly wasn’t ready for. I’m so so sorry Astarion” you tell him. “hey come here” he says holding you tightly to his chest. “I was ready, I am ready…with you I’m ready. You have nothing to apologize for. I enjoyed what we just did. It’s just” he says taking a deep breath. “it’s just what?” you ask him, looking up at him with teary eyes. “it’s just that I realize now what I missed all those years. It never felt like it does with you” he says softly. “what?” I ask him. “please don’t make me repeat that, it’s hard enough to tell you this, but yes. With you it feels right, I enjoy it and I can’t get enough of you. I’ve forgotten what that felt like” he says. “I love you” you tell him. “I love you too” he says his eyes shining like you’ve never seen them before. You place a soft kiss on his lips before you turn to Gale “and I love you” you tell him. “I love you too” he says smiling as he cuddles you from behind, as you fall asleep on Astarion’s chest.

The next morning you’re the first one awake, and you decide to make your men some breakfast. You slowly get out of their grip, careful not to wake them and leave your tent. You’re a bit sore, okay more than a bit, your ass feel raw, but it only makes you remember last night which makes you smile. “so had fun last night he?” Karlach says grinning. “I would appreciate it not waking me up in the future” Shadowheart says looking at you judging. “leave the girl be, everyone needs a little fun once in a while. And she deserves it for all she’s done for us” Wyll says, as always the gentleman. “so who was it?” Karlach asks. “oh well uhm”. “no way” Shadowheart gasps as both Gale and Astarion walk out of your tent at the same time. “go get em girl” Karlach grins, fist bumping your shoulder before everyone returns to their daily tasks. “you okay there love, your cheeks are a little flushed” Gale says. “I told you to keep silent darling” Astarion grins at you before they both kiss one of your cheeks. “now let’s get breakfast, you need to eat before round 2 tonight”.

#astarion x reader #gale x reader #bg3 #bg3 smut #bloodweave #astarion smut #gale smut #gale fanfic #astarion fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #smut

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zorosdimples · 3 months

Text

prev part. more abuse of power.

“why didn’t you tell me you were going to see him? at my own tavern, no less?”

diluc drops his lambskin gloves to the floor before tearing off his silk cravat, the smooth, slippery fabric floating down to rest as his feet. the bespoke brooch boasting the ragnvindr crest clatters atop the rosewood dresser; you sigh, thinking of the scratches you will have to buff out later.

“i wasn’t planning to meet the captain,” you explain, staring at your master’s back—broad as the horizon—as he kicks off his boots. he bristles at your use of his brother’s honorific. “he was sitting outside the tavern as i strolled around mondstadt.”

the nobleman huffs before removing his coat and tossing it to the bed. “no doubt kaeya knew it was your morning off,” he mutters more to himself than to you. he rips out the tie holding up his mane, fiery strands shrouding his profile and engulfing his shoulders.

you clear your throat. “if i may be frank, sir.”

diluc turns to you, arms crossed, features pinched in mild irritation. his crimson eyes simmer and spark—barely restrained flames—but all he does is nod for you to continue.

licking your lips, you choose your words with care. “i don’t see why it’s any of your concern how i spend my free time.”

it seems that diluc is disinterested in your statement (you miss the tick of his marble jaw). his hands stray upward, fiddling with the onyx stud that binds the collar of his shirt.

he begins unbuttoning, slow and deliberate, downy scarlet hair peeking out as he works his way down the garment. you’re transfixed for a moment—with shock or awe it’s hard to say—and suck in a breath before rushing to the door, face ablaze.

“if that is all, i shall take my leave.” the waver in your voice doubles your embarrassment.

“not quite.” diluc’s tone is thick, rich and cloying as molasses. he has trapped you with those sticky words; you half face him, gaze trained firmly on his visage, not an inch lower (though your periphery soaks in his bare chest).

“this isn’t appropriate, master diluc,” you whisper.

for the first time all afternoon, his lips twitch into a quiet smile. “there’s nothing inappropriate about you washing my hair. it’s your job to tend to me, no? now please—follow me to the bathroom.”

#i will make another part with the actual hair washing. i needed to build the tension though #if you hate this SORRY #servant reader au #diluc x reader #diluc <3

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inkykeiji · 1 year

Text

character: fyodor x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, bratty reader, toxic relationship, impact play: caning, blood, physical abuse (fyodor breaks one of reader’s bones), jealousy (feat. nikolai), princess used as a pet name, reader does not know russian or ukrainian, size difference (fyodor is bigger than reader), one instance of Sir

words: 2.7k

You’re getting restless, he can tell; can see it in the way you’re running your index finger along the spines of the old, crumbling books as you listlessly pace around the library, collecting dust on your fingertip; can hear it in the way you sigh, soft and delicate, wistful and weary, shoulders deflating a little with the exhale.

Bratty and bored, that’s what you are, casting longing side glances at your Daddy from the corners of your eyes, desperate and hopeful for him to take notice of you, of your current state, and relieve you of it. Bratty and bored, but brats don’t get Daddy’s attention, especially not when they know he’s busy.

He wonders how long you’ll hold out before you succumb, how long you can reign in your inherent selfish and spoiled nature before the restraints finally snap beneath your yearning for attention.

Not very long, he wagers.

“Nikki,” you whine a mere moment after the thought passes through Fyodor’s mind, the nickname stringy and drawn out.

“Yes, princess?” Nikolai responds without tearing his gaze from the pages of his book.

“I’m bored,” you grumble with a pout, sauntering over to the plush armchair Nikolai is snuggled in and perching on the edge, ass and thigh pressed up against his resting forearm.

The action surprises him slightly and he looks up at you, a question lingering in his mismatched eyes.

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. “So I came to see what you were reading,” you continue as a way of explanation, leaning forward under the guise of getting a better view of the book between his palms, swelling breasts—perky and practically spilling out from that slutty milkmaid dress Fyodor loves so much—pressing into Nikolai’s cheek as you do so.

The curiosity on his face develops into something wicked, eyes darkening and smile furling in on itself as he casts you another glance.

Oh, he knows exactly what you’re doing.

Holding out the book further, he leans into your chest, nuzzling your bosom ever-so-slightly.

“It’s called Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka,” he says. “You can read it with me, if you’d like.”

“I can’t read Russian, though,” you frown, sounding as if you’re genuinely disappointed.

With a shake of his head, Nikolai laughs gently, the melody both fond and condescending.

“It’s not Russian,” he says. “It’s Ukrainian.”

At your lost look—eyes widened, brows wrinkled, head tilted, so precious, so pathetic, like a stupid little puppy—he laughs again, releasing a corner of the book and holding his arm out, welcoming you into his lap. “Here,” he beckons, nodding his head a little in indication. “I’ll read it to you, then.”

Holding his stare, you hesitate for a moment, as if you’re weighing your options, carefully considering your choices and determining which packs the most heft, the most hurt.

Then you’re settling onto his lap a moment later, a little palm planted high on his thigh as you lean forward, scanning the page. He hooks his chin over your shoulder, resting the hinges of his jaw on your body, his back pressed flush to yours. When he speaks again, you can feel his voice vibrate against his ribs.

At the commotion, Fyodor looks up from his rosewood desk across the room, pen hovering above his papers as he observes, dripping splotches of ink across the page.

Nikolai’s murmuring to you, slowly, softly, lips grazing the cartilage of your ear as he reads, too low for Fyodor to make out the words flowing from his mouth.

But he doubts Nikolai is actually reading to you, your sweet little giggles and bashful fluttering lashes telling him as much, Nikolai nosing along your jaw as his lips continue to move, the ghost of a smirk playing with the corners of his mouth.

And, for a little while, Fyodor allows it to continue, jaw flexing infinitesimally with every hushed sound you emit, nostrils twitching, on the verge of flaring with each calculated exhale.

For a little while, he’s alright; for a while, he can handle it.

But you all knew it wouldn’t last long.

A little squeal breaks in your throat in response to something Nikolai’s done or said, chest hunching in on itself only stopped by Nikolai’s large hands on your waist, fingers splayed wide and keeping you upright, so long they’re overlaying your ribs, thumbs just beneath your breasts.

And that’s all it takes, really.

The sound of wood scraping wood has your body snapping into action, a switch flipped—automatic, inherent—and you slip from Nikolai’s grasp easily, flitting out the door with the grace of a single dove feather.

Echos of your bare feet slapping against marble fill the wide hallways, tangled with breathless bubbles of laughter and the muted stomp of his rubber soles against the pristine floor. He’s panting behind you, pushing his body to the limit as he shoves himself forward, lungs aching, outstretched hand missing the hem of your dress by the width of a hair, again, fingers curling into a fist of nothing.

The muscles in your legs are burning—his own legs are longer than yours, his strides more adept as they cover a larger area of ground, but you won’t give in; not until he catches you.

And he’s close.

Giggles are barreling up your throat and past your lips, an endless stream of amusement only slightly stuttered by your gentle, uneven huffs of exertion. The soles of your feet skid audibly on the marble as you sharply round a corner, skin squealing, but you don’t stop, not until you round the next curve in the knotted hallways, not until you realize that he’s no longer following you; that you are, suddenly and abruptly, all alone.

Your feet scuttle to a stop, heaving chest adorned with dewdrops of sweat, glistening prettily in the warm lamplight of the manor. The silence is dense, ears ringing with the pressure, your own breathing muffled by it. The silence is heavy, crushing, almost, burdened by the immense scale and size of the manor, the whole structure so monstrous, so massive it feels nearly suffocating, like it could swallow you whole in a single gulp.

“Daddy?” you call out, voice small and hesitant, eyes darting around the empty space. The lamps on the walls waver for a moment, as if a breeze had somehow passed through the bulbs, but the air is stagnant and still.

You turn slowly, balls of your feet sticking to the polished floor, gaze careful and cautious as it searches for any signs of life.

“Daddy, where’d you—”

A large hand claps over your mouth and smothers your words, long fingers wreathing around your jaw, jagged nails digging into your cheek, and yanks you back against thin muscle and hard bone, engulfing you in darkness a second later.

It all happens so quickly, so unexpectedly that you hardly have any time to meditate on the instance before you’re being whirled around, spine slamming against drywall, your body caged between the surface and the steady rise and fall of your Daddy’s chest.

You had forgotten that this place contains many secret passageways and hidden rooms.

You had also forgotten that Daddy knows all of them, and you know none.

He’s got a large hand cuffed around either of your wrists, pinning them to the weathered wallpaper, warped and peeling, just above your head.

You struggle a little, wriggling in his grip, and his fingers tighten in warning, palms pressing your limbs further against the wall, the bones of your wrist ground together in each of his hands, your features tweaking in a suppressed wince.

“Why are you on such bad behaviour today?”

“I’m not.”

An eyebrow raises. “You’re not?”

“No. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

He laughs, nothing more than a gentle huff, and it sends chills skittering up your spine.

“You know how many lashes lying to Daddy gets you, don’t you?”

“Fifteen,” you answer dutifully.

“Yes. And how many lashes does flirting with someone else get you?”

“Twenty five.”

“Exactly. And how many lashes is that total?”

“Forty.”

“Forty,” he repeats slowly, as if he’s tasting each letter, molding it with his tongue. “Can you handle that? Do you think it was wise to act out in such a manner while Daddy was working?”

“You weren’t paying attention to me,” you say in simple explanation, though your voice is solemn, words filtered through a petulant pout.

“You have my full attention now.”

“Good.”

Blinking twice, both eyebrows quirk. “Would you like to add to your current sentence of forty lashes?”

“Depends. What else do you got?”

His tongue runs along the front of his teeth, curling over the edges, bulging beneath his top lip as he considers. “How about an extra ten for generally pissing me off?”

“Fifty.” you say plainly. “I’ll take them.”

“Yeah? You won’t be able to sit properly for about a month or so.”

“I don’t care. Give them to me, I want them.”

Fifty it is.

He smiles at you then, and it’s sharp, it’s sinister, curling up at the corners and nearly furling in on itself, his eyes glowing.

He says nothing as he latches a large hand around your bicep, grip just hard enough to be uncomfortable, just hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have a pretty cuff of all four fingers and his thumb, seared into your skin in brilliant blues, by the following morning.

But then he tugs, and a yelp cracks in your throat despite your best efforts to keep it from happening. His fingers twitch, tighten, and you grind your teeth together, an attempt to keep from making another sound.

Because you didn’t miss the telltale flutter of the edges of his mouth when you cried out, the way his chest puffed out just a little further, raising him to his full height.

Because as well as he knows you, you know him, too, and the last thing you want to do is give him any further satisfaction; not after he ignored you all day, acted as if you didn’t exist, nothing more than a slightly irksome ghost lingering around the edges of his consciousness, gaze only occasionally flicking up from his thick books and crumpled papers and ink-stained fingers to trail you for a moment—to make sure you were still there—before returning to his work.

“I will not be restraining you,” he tells you, as nonchalantly as if discussing the snow outside, soles of his boots echoing against the marble as he stalks towards the wardrobe. “You move so much as an inch and I will add an additional five lashes. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

And you can’t suppress the smug little grin that slithers across your face as you assume the position—hips bent at a ninety-degree angle, chest pressed into the mattress, cheek nuzzled against the silk comforter—feeling exceptionally proud of yourself for remembering the Sir, for not giving him another reason to lengthen your punishment.

“Good,” he says, and oh, you can hear it, that minuscule barely there tremor of fury, wavering in the word like a maggot under his skin.

He decides on his favourite cane, black ebony wood with the silver handle, made of pure platinum and topped with a sphere. This is a uncommon occurrence; he rarely uses this cane, for fear of breaking it on you, as he’s done to so many other so many times before.

He’s unrestrained today: which is to say, he has decided to be unrestrained today, a conscious choice to be harsh, cruel, messy with it all.

You know not to mistake this with true lack of control; he could be constrained and neat with all of his lines if he wanted to be, but he doesn’t want to be.

Not today.

You don’t deserve it.

Every smack of the cane against your ass leaves raised, swiftly swelling welts in its wake, first materializing in thin lines, then in thick, before the skin finally begins to tear, spanked raw and rubbed down from the constant friction.

They crisscross over your backside, crooked slashes and streaks embellishing your bum and the very tops of your thighs. Each stroke of the wood leaves a sharp sting searing across your flesh, followed by a dull, deep ache, the pain so dense you fear it may never fully leave you, throbbing as it burrows into your skin.

He doesn’t demand you count aloud, nor does he order you to keep quiet, and for this you are thankful, little whimpers and soft cries building as the punishment proceeds, evolving into full on shouts and sobs, fingers sore and stiff from clenching the edges of the mattress, desperate not to move.

Only five left, you’re thinking to yourself in an effort to self-soothe, when the end is finally in sight. Only five more, and then it’s over; and then I’ve taken it all.

The next hit comes not with the heel but with the handle of the cane; a sphere of dense platinum, heavy and hard as it thwacks your tailbone, higher than any of the other strikes have been thus far.

A scream splinters in your throat, and you shove your face in the mattress, a feeble attempt to smother it, whole body recoiling from the impact.

You can feel the bone fissure, sending bolts of jagged pain shooting through your backside, sharper than the blunt ache the wood commands. Your fingers curl in the sheets, teeth sinking into the plush flesh of the bed, quivering muscles gone rigid as you try not to move around too much, lest Fyodor add another five lashes to your nearly completed punishment.

He makes a masterpiece of your backside, a landscape of dark violet and navy blue, glittering scarlet pooling in the grooves of fields, fragile skin split from the constant whack of the cane.

“Beautiful,” he breathes, fingertips skimming over his work, catching on the rapidly expanding bumps and ridges, bulging and thickening as blood rushes to cushion the injuries.

He digs a jagged nail into the wound, drags it through the hollowed gouges and collects blood beneath the sawtoothed edge.

In a week or so, after the final bruise has fully developed and the blood has seeped through several layers of tissue to the surface, your shattered tailbone will serve as a massive moon, hanging low and heavy over the landscape.

It will be one of the most stunning pieces of art he’s ever created, he’s sure of it.

It will be one of the most painful, extensive punishments you’ve ever endured; he’s sure of that, too.

It was fucking foolish to have challenged him, you knew it was right from the start, but—as expected—you just couldn’t help yourself. The whorish need for attention was too potent, too strong to resist, to ignore, to shove away into a corner of your mind and let it fester.

But technically, ultimately, you got exactly what you wanted.

Because when it’s all over, when you’ve taken your fifty lashes like the good little girl you are and you’re sobbing into the mattress, smearing spit and salt across the silk sheets, he collects you in his arms easily, scoops you up against his chest with a bicep cradling your neck and an elbow hooked beneath your knees and begins carrying you towards the small in-house infirmary.

You wail into his neck, little fingers curling in the collar of his sweater and yanking, desperate to pull yourself close, closer, as close as possible, finding comfort in your very own monster, your personal hell; delicious, decadent, devious.

“Daddy, Daddy, Da-Daddy!”

Tender hushes fall from his lips, soaking into the crown of your head as he scatters placating kisses across your hair. And he’s so gentle, he’s so careful, minding your fractured bone as he hugs you to his ribs, rocking your shuddering body in his embrace ever-so-slightly, grip tightening as another one of those rough sobs rips through your chest.

Most of his anger has calmed now, beaten from his chest with the whip of the cane against your supple skin, but a few cinders of fury remain, simmering low and hot and quiet in his words.

“Maybe next time,” he begins, softly seething, accent thicker than normal, “you’ll think twice before pressing your tits into Nikolai’s cheek, yes?”

#fyodor x reader #fyodor smut #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #inky.fyodor #inky.bsd

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jaywonjuice · 8 months

Text

📄🖇️ — without you ~ p.sh

pairing ex!sunghoon x gn reader (feat. bf!jay x gn reader)

genre non idol au, angst, crack (model!hoon ?!), oneshot

request summary: ✉️ sunghoon never moved on, but you did. you bump into your ex at a cafe, only for him to realise you’re here with… your new boyfriend.

warnings none ??

wc 945

a/n wow,, tysm for 100 followers !! :’) endlessly grateful for u all enjoying what i write <333

🎧 Without You — Oh Wonder

the smell of sweet syrups and ground coffee beans hung finely in the air. you inhaled deeply - you loved this cafe so much. the dark rosewood floors, the warm, open-bulb lighting; there was such a perfectly cosy atmosphere in this place that no other coffee shop in town could replicate, no matter how hard they seemed to try. you’d take it over a starbucks any day.

you’d managed to snag your favourite spot, an old, but extremely comfy, large grey sofa in the corner of the cafe. as you surveyed the rest of the shop, you noted how it was impressively busy for an ordinary tuesday morning in this small town, and you were glad to see business was doing so well. you felt a twinge of guilt.

no thanks to you. you hadn’t dropped by in quite some time now. not since the breakup. you and sunghoon used to come here for coffee at least once a week back when you were dating… anyway, it felt good to be back, at least.

‘y/n?’ a voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

you turned, eyes widening as you were greeted by sunghoon, standing at the end of the sofa. he looked good - great, even. in just a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans, he still managed, somehow, to look effortlessly put-together, as if he’d just strolled straight off a runway and through the doors of a coffee shop.

‘y/n,’ he repeated your name awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. ‘hey, it’s been a while... how are you?’

you did your best to push past your shock at seeing him again so unexpectedly, and forced a smile.

‘hoon! i’m doing good! how have you been?’ you gestured for him to sit, and he took the seat opposite you.

‘i’m not bad yeah, been working a lot.’ he set his iced latte down on the table in front of him. ‘no drink?’ he added with a slight eyebrow raise, nodding to the empty coaster in front of you.

‘i’m just waiting on it,’ you replied, tilting your head towards the collection point by the coffee machine at the end of the bar. your smile came a little more naturally now - sunghoon had always been so observant when the two of you were together.

‘you look great,’ he said, honestly. feeling his gaze on you, your cheeks flushed slightly. ‘uh, thanks. you too,’ you admitted after a moment. because he really did. you had to make an effort not to stare; the way his dark hair was styled parted, framing his face quite perfectly.

‘so you’re still working down the office then?’ you cleared your throat, changing the subject. you felt a stab of sympathy, knowing how much of a bore he’d always found his desk job.

‘actually, no,’ he smiled, stirring the ice around in his glass with his straw, causing it to clink softly. ‘i’m actually… modelling now,’ he glanced up and shot you a sheepish grin.

‘be serious,’ you replied, gawking in disbelief. ‘what?! how?’

‘i got cast just, y’know, on the street. some guy invited me to the agency, said i had the face for it,’ you thought he almost looked a little shy as he was telling you this. ‘i thought it was a bust at first, i almost didn’t go along, but… that was a few months ago now. i’ve had some bookings since then.’

you caught yourself with your mouth still hanging open in shock, and shut it quickly. you tried to gain a little composure. ‘who could’ve guessed: hoon the model,’ you teased, and he flashed a grin back at you before poking his tongue between his teeth cheekily.

‘oh, that’s it right there, that’s the face he must’ve been talking about!’ you laughed as sunghoon leaned into your teasing, continuing to make silly faces at you from across the coffee table.

when you’d finally managed to stop laughing, sunghoon smiled to himself, secretly pleased at how relaxed you still seemed around him even after all this time. he took a sip of his drink as he watched you glancing around the space that the two of you had spent so much time in together. he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t miss it. didn’t miss you.

‘and you?’ he prompted. ‘anything new and exciting going on in your life? any contenders to top my news?’

you looked down, suddenly feeling embarrassed. ‘uhm, not really. nothing much has really changed for me, except-’

‘here you go baby,’

a tall, angular young man with slicked back hair leaned down between the two of you, placing two mugs down on the table before sitting beside you on the sofa.

he slung an arm around your shoulder and kissed your cheek.

‘who’s your friend?’ he asked, with what sunghoon thought was an irritatingly charming smile.

‘um, jay, this is hoo- um, sunghoon, he’s an old friend, sunghoon, this is jay, my… boyfriend,’ you bit your lip hard, watching sunghoon’s expression carefully as you relayed this information to him.

for just a split second, you thought you saw hurt flash across his eyes. but then it was gone. he shook jay’s hand when it was offered, before promptly excusing himself. as he got up to leave, you caught his eye, and for just a moment he gave you a small, sad smile. and then he was gone, leaving you staring holes into his back as he exited the coffee shop.

‘swear i’ve seen him somewhere before,’ jay muttered, stirring a spoon around idly in his mug.

‘mm, he’s just got one of those faces,’ you murmured quietly.

a/n okay okay so hear me out: i have half a mind to make this into like a longer series, maybe a two/threeshot with slightly more action…? so if you’d be interested in that then let me know,,! ;)

TAGLIST ೃ⁀➷ @thejakeslayla @shawnyle

©jaywonjuice | do not copy or re-upload my work on any platform

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theostrophywife · 6 months

Text

silver lining.

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

song inspiration: bathroom by montell fish.

author's note: this is just filth. don't imagine draco looking at you like the cover picture when you're on your knees for him. don't do it.

The rosewood door clicked shut as Draco hastily ushered you inside. Your heels echoed against the marble tile, the train of your velvet dress kissing the floor as you faced your boyfriend with anticipation.

Beyond the lavish bathroom, the sounds of the soirée filtered through the packed halls of Malfoy Manor. Nearly everyone who was anyone in the upper echelons of society was present for tonight’s festivities, which meant that you were supposed to be on your best behavior.

A task that you so arduously failed the second you caught sight of Draco.

In truth, you couldn’t be blamed. Your boyfriend had no business looking that delectable. When he greeted you at the door earlier that night, you nearly swooned. The suit that adorned his body was perfectly tailored, showing off his lithe and lean frame. It cinched at his midsection, sending your gaze further down and letting your imagination run wild with images of you wrapping your legs around his trim waist. The deep navy color accentuated his silver eyes and they flashed like streaks of lightning as his gaze descended on you.

Mischief danced on his features as Draco indulged in the sight of you, his gaze snagging on your curves, perfectly hugged by velvet fabric that matched the color of his suit. The dress was delivered to your door early that morning along with the diamonds that dripped from your ears and fingers. The pièce de résistance, a gorgeous sapphire necklace, hung proudly around your neck. It was easily recognizable as a Malfoy family heirloom. One that Narcissa had worn out and about in countless society events. Draco’s message was clear. He intended to make you a Malfoy soon enough.

The note that accompanied the necklace said as much. Your boyfriend simply wrote: A jewel for my jewel. See you tonight, my future wife as though he hadn't splurged a year's worth of wages on the dress alone. To Draco, money wasn't an object. Not if it meant making you happy.

As the Malfoys welcomed your family into the manor, Draco swept you in by your waist. He caressed your cheek, the cold bite of his rings kissing your skin as his fingers slipped down to wrap around your neck possessively.

“You look ravishing, darling.” Draco said as he pressed a chaste peck against your lips. The kiss was soft and gentle, likely for the benefit of your parents. You doubted that Draco’s usual affections for you would be deemed appropriate in their eyes. Your boyfriend seemed to know this too because he smirked, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “I can’t wait to rip this dress to shreds tonight.”

That little comment ignited a fire within you. As the night progressed, you couldn’t stop staring at your boyfriend. Thinking of all the filthy things you’d rather be doing in his bedroom instead of paying attention to the millionth what a beautiful couple you make or how refreshing it is to see young love at work comments that various guests showered you with. You already knew that you and Draco were the perfect couple. He repeated this sentiment to you every day. Not just with words, but with his actions as well.

Draco was possessive in every sense of the word. Like his namesake, there was a dragon underneath that handsome face, hoarding his most prized possession—you—with unmatched devotion. Your boyfriend showered you with affection and you loved every second of it. Selfish as it was, you weren’t well pleased at the prospect of sharing his attention even for a few hours. You were utterly spoiled, to be sure. But Draco had made you that way.

By the time that dinner started, food was the last thing on your mind. You probably would’ve been more well-behaved if your friends were present to help take your mind off of things, but traitors that they were, they had left you all alone to simmer in your sinful thoughts. Pansy and Blaise were off on holiday in the Maldives while Theo, Enzo, and Mattheo disappeared soon after their required appearances. Knowing the boys, they were probably in the gardens getting higher than a hippogriff.

You felt envious. The last thing you wanted to do was sit through a stuffy dinner, smiling cordially at the high profile guests around you and acting like the prim and proper aristocrat that your parents raised you to be. Draco was certainly faring better than you at the moment. The charm and confidence came naturally to him. He leaned back against his wingback chair, sipping red wine and conversing with the Minister of Magic like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Through the crystal glass, you examined him with a smile. His platinum blonde hair was slicked back and not a single strand was out of place. Silver rings adorned his knuckles, which were loosely curled around his wine glass. You couldn’t help but think that his fingers would look better wrapped around your neck, but perhaps that was the alcohol talking.

Draco licked his lips, which were now stained a pretty crimson color. You wondered if he'd taste like wine when you kissed him, which you couldn't wait to do. Kiss, lick, suck. All over. Every single inch. You flushed as Draco's gaze trailed over to you. A sly smirk curled against his lips as he leaned in.

“Darling, is everything alright? You’ve barely touched your food and yet you look absolutely ravenous.” His cold breath tickled your cheek. “Hungry for something else, are we?”

A devious expression flickered through his features as your cheeks heated. Your boyfriend knew exactly what he was doing. He was being a tease, plain and simple.

“What if I am, Draco?” you replied, placing your hand on his thigh. Draco’s breath hitched as he looked down at your perfectly manicured hand.

His voice was low and husky, tinged with need. “You can devour me all you’d like after this dinner, princess.”

“You know I’ve never been patient.” You pouted, causing Draco to chuckle lightly. “And I’ve been waiting all night.”

Draco chuckled darkly, patting your hand. “Behave, darling. I promise to reward you after.”

You weren’t satisfied with that answer. Draco was determined to leave it at that, but you had other ideas. Dating him meant that no wasn’t really in your vernacular. Draco doted on you, spoiled you beyond belief, and most importantly, he never made you wait. You were used to getting what you wanted, when you wanted. Tonight would be no different.

As Draco returned to his conversation with the minister, you busied yourself with the guests around you. The Greengrass sisters were gushing about the dresses you had all picked out for the Yule Ball, while their parents commented on your recent charity work. You took it all in stride, accepting each compliment gracefully while inching your hand higher up Draco’s leg.

Lucius had joined the conversation, bragging about Draco’s most recent accomplishments. Narcissa smiled fondly at her beloved son.

“We’re quite proud of our Draco,” she said with a smile. The older woman looked positively regal and intimidating as always, but there was a warmth to her as she turned in your direction. “Especially since he’s brought the wonderful Y/N into our lives. If he plays his cards right, then we may be adding another Malfoy to our midst soon. Though I already think of her as a daughter.”

You beamed. “Thank you, Cissy.”

Draco cleared his throat as you inched your hand higher, toying with the seam of his pants. The minister was none the wiser as he turned his attention towards the both of you.

“You two make a very handsome couple indeed.”

You flashed the minister a charming smile as you palmed Draco through his trousers. He was hard as a rock and positively delicious against your palm. You rubbed over him slowly, making him jolt from the contact. “Do you hear that, Draco? Why, I think we have the minister’s approval.”

Your boyfriend nearly spilled his glass of wine when you squeezed him between your fingers.

The minister furrowed his brows in concern. “Are you quite alright, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Splendid,” Draco replied through gritted teeth. “Though I just recalled, Y/N and I must check up on dessert. She needs to practice if she’s to be lady of the manor soon.”

Draco subtly removed your hand from his lap. Ever the perfect gentleman, he stood up and gallantly offered you his arm. “Shall we, darling?”

Hiding your smirk was nearly impossible. Though he appeared calm and collected, you knew Draco well enough to clock the tick in his jaw. Your boyfriend was pissed. This was further confirmed by the silence that followed as he escorted you through the halls of Malfoy Manor. Not a single word or glance was spared in your direction.

Instead, Draco opened the door to the bathroom and watched as you ducked inside. Before you could even speak, Draco pushed you against the door. One hand wrapped around your throat while the other gripped your waist.

His silver eyes flashed with anger. “You want to tell me what that was back there, princess?”

The anger radiating off of him in waves awakened a sick sort of thrill within you. You lifted your chin defiantly, nearly putting a crick in your neck as you glanced up at Draco. Every in your tallest heels, he still towered a good foot over you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Draco. It’s not my fault that you’re all hot and bothered over a simple touch.”

“A simple touch?” He asked, quirking a pale brow at you. From his tone, you could tell that his patience was wearing thin. “Darling, you were practically clawing at my trousers. In front of our parents. In front of the bloody minister. Are you so desperate for me that you couldn’t wait until the end of the night?”

“What if I was? What are you going to do about it, Draco?”

He flashed you in irritated glare. “You’re playing a very dangerous game, my love. You know better than to test my patience.”

“Oh, but it’s so much fun.”

“Is it? Well, it isn’t fun for me.” Draco grabbed your hand and ran it over his length. “Do you feel that? You’ve caused this problem, darling. By acting like a needy little slut all night and riling me up. Now you’re going to fix it.”

“And if I say no?”

Draco squeezed your throat so hard that your air supply was momentarily cut off. “Then I’ll just have to put you in your place.”

You smiled. This was exactly what you wanted. Draco clocked your satisfied little smirk. “Don’t think I don’t see that smile. You think you’ve won, don’t you? Well, you won’t be smiling once I fuck you throat until you’re crying and begging me to stop. I’ll make sure you won’t be able to talk for days, let alone grin.”

“It would be a genuine pleasure, Dray.”

“Such a smart mouth on you, hm?” Draco released you from his hold and stared down at you with a menacing grin. “Get on your fucking knees, princess. It's about time you remembered your place."

The words sent a shiver down your spine. You were so turned on that you could barely breathe. As you knelt on the cold tile, Draco unbuckled his belt. You looked up through your lashes with a lust filled gaze as he freed his cock from the constraints of his meticulously pressed trousers. Draco pumped himself and the sight made you groan with need. You tried to reach for him, but he swatted your hand away.

When you whined, Draco responded by taking fistfuls of your hair and yanking your head back. “Open your mouth like the pretty little whore that I know you are.”

Without warning, Draco shoved his fingers into your mouth. You whined, wanting much more than just his digits. He tilted your head back, those silver eyes flashing with irritation at your bratty behavior.

"You think I'd give you my cock without making you work for it first?" He asked with a sneer. "Show me that you can handle my fingers and maybe I'll let you suck me off. I'd like to see if you can still mouth off to me with your lips wrapped around my cock, you fucking brat."

You moaned in response, peering up at him through your lashes as you sucked on his fingers. Draco watched hungrily as you flicked your tongue over his silver rings and wrapped your lips around the Malfoy family crest. He hissed as you coated his digits with saliva, letting him gag you with his long fingers while you gazed lovingly up at him.

"Look at you. You're fucking filthy, darling. Putting on a show for me, hm?" Draco laughed when you nodded eagerly. "I bet you're soaked, princess. So turned on and all I've done is gag you with my fingers. You're such a whore, aren't you?"

You looked up at him and smiled, kissing the tips of his fingers. "Only for you, Draco."

This seemed to please you boyfriend because he leaned down and rewarded you with a sloppy kiss. With a hand around your throat, Draco slipped his tongue into your mouth and groaned when you sucked on it.

"Come on then, darling. Let me fuck that pretty throat."

You swallowed thickly, your lips barely parting before Draco shoved his way in. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat with a sharp thrust. He groaned and picked up the pace. There was no precursor. No gentleness. This was just Draco selfishly abusing your throat for his own pleasure and you loved every second of it.

Draco held nothing back. While he was quite domineering in bed, you’ve never seen him unleashed like this. Your boyfriend was feral, roughly fucking into your throat like it was his god given right. Tears and snot quickly covered your face as he rutted into your mouth over and over again. You were slobbering all over him, leaving lipstick marks all over his cock.

With a particular sharp thrust, Draco flashed you a vicious smile. The hand that wasn't gripping the back of your head tugged the straps of your dress off of your shoulders. He pulled the fabric down, exposing your breasts to the cool air. You hissed as he roughly squeezed your tits, alternating between them with equal attention. He flicked his thumb over your stiffened peaks and hit the back of your throat with brutal force. You cried out, your words nothing but an incoherent stream of pleading and pleasure.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, princess? You talked up such a big game, but now you’re crying like a desperate little slut. Oh, you can’t take any more? Am I bruising your pretty little throat? Well, too bad. You asked for it by acting like such a fucking brat. Now you have to deal with the consequences of your actions.”

You moaned at his words, making him throw his head back at the vibrations. His perfectly coiffed hair was now a mess. Platinum locks framed his handsome face, looking like some unholy angel. He panted and moaned, signaling his release. Draco pulled out and positioned the tip of his cock onto your tongue.

“Swallow, darling. Every single fucking drop.”

You were shaken. Your knees ached. Your throat was definitely sore. But it was all worth it to watch your boyfriend come apart above you. Draco’s lips parted, releasing an animalistic groan as he spilled onto your tongue. His eyelids fluttered as he came, those pretty silver eyes rolling back until they disappeared.

Draco looked down, watching intently as you flashed him the load he’d emptied into your mouth before you swallowed obediently. He smiled proudly.

“That’s my good girl.”

He picked you up off of the floor and kissed you, groaning when he tasted himself on your lips. Compared to his earlier actions, the kiss was rather affectionate and endearing. After you had a chance to catch your breath, Draco cleaned you up. With a quick incantation, he vanished the evidence, wiping away the snot, tears, and mascara until you appeared pristine again.

Draco smiled, wrapping a possessive hand around your throat as he kissed your forehead. You whimpered at the slight pressure.

“Poor baby, but you had it coming. Told you I’d ruin your throat.” Your boyfriend murmured, trailing kisses down your neck. “Have you learned your lesson, darling?”

Your voice sounded rough and scratchy when you spoke. “Mhm, I learned that I should make you mad more often. That was so fucking hot, Draco.”

Draco chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re hopeless, princess. But I love you anyway. Now come on, let’s get back to dinner before anyone suspects the ungodly things I’ve just done to you. If you’re good, maybe I’ll make you see heaven later.”

You leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll hold you to that, Draco.”

#when i tell yall that i need to be institutionalized for my thoughts about this man #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader

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floswife · 1 year

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𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦-𝗛𝗝𝗣 𝗫 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗢𝗖

Warnings: Fluff, Gaslighting, James possessing Harry

Pairing: Harry James Potter X Ravenclaw!OC

Author’s Note: Idk I just wrote this for me so it’s not really plot heavy, it’s set in fifth year but there’s not any mention of the DA or Umbitch

Summary: Juliette Rosewood, a Muggleborn Ravenclaw witch. She had never thought she’d me destined for much trouble, that was until a certain raven haired Gryffinfor decided to take a liking to her.

It was another day at Hogwarts and Juliette was late to Potions. Again.

But was it really her fault that the damned stairs moved randomly? She braced herself for a scolding, it was fifth year and her O.W.L.S were just around the corner, that and the fact that she wasn’t a Slytherin would surely lead to Snape ripping into her. A sure equation to a sizeable amount of points to be docked from her house.

She entered the classroom with her long dark curls flowing behind her in a frenzy, she frantically looked around the class for a free seat and saw that there was only one left next to Hogwarts’ resident celebrity/troublemaker, Harry Potter.

As Snape’s back was turned she crept to the seat, Harry giving her an amused look.

Snape turned around and his eyes immediately zeroed in on her, “Miss Rosewood, did you arrive just now?”

Juliette shrugged, “I was here this whole time sir. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Harry stifled a laugh behind his palm.

Snaps narrowed his eyes, “You were late.”

Juliette feigned a look of offence, “That is a vile accusation sir.”

Snape visibly angered, “Alright, what is it that I was just talking about right now?”

“Draught of living death.” Harry murmured to her in a voice so low it was only audible to her from behind his palm.

“Draught of living death, sir.” She said with a sickly sweet smile before giving Harry a thankful look.

The rest of the class watched in amusement as Snape visibly questioned his sanity.

He turned to Harry who gave his best innocent look that almost made Juliette burst out in laughter, “Potter, tell me, was Miss Rosewood here this whole time?”

Harry nodded, “Yes she was sir, you should get Madam Pomfrey to check your memory.”

The whole class stifled a laugh as Snape turned red, “That won’t be needed. Everyone turn to page 177, I want a bottle of the draught of living death made by you and your seat partner on my desk by the end of this lesson or else detentions will be given.”

The whole class groaned and got the ingredients needed for the potion.

Juliette turned to Harry, “Thank you for that, by the way, you didn’t need to do that.”

Harry shrugged, “Anything to pull one over Snape, right?”

Juliette laughed in agreement, “seriously, I owe you one.” Harry smiled at her and the two spent the rest of the lesson laughing and teasing each other, talking about meaningless things and just enjoying each other’s company, surprisingly they even managed to get a decent draught of living death on Snape’s desk and didn’t get detention.

Oh how she’d regret those words.

Juliette was proud to have been named prefect of her house, both her parents were muggles and many didn’t expect much of her. However, when she received the letter and the shiny blue pin, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of fulfilment.

Now, as she did her nighttime patrols, she no longer felt that fulfilment but only an overwhelming sense of tiredness and boredom. Seriously, shouldn’t this be considered as child labour? Dumbledore ought to hire some more damned teachers.

The dulled haze she fell into as she trudged along the hallway, her wand alight making the portraits shout some rather rude things at her, fell once she heard hurried footsteps along the corridor she was in.

She laughed to herself at the poor soul running down this corridor, knowing it was a dead end.

She then saw a familiar head of raven hair and bright green eyes and round glasses and she forced herself to suppress a groan of frustration.

Does this boy ever have a normal day at Hogwarts?

Harry looked relieved to see her and stopped by her as she looked at him with wide eye, his cheeks were slightly flushed from the running as she looked up at him with an incredulous look on her face.

“Do you ever just… follow the rules?” She hissed at him, not even wanting to ask who he was running away from.

Harry feigned a look of deep though before nonchalantly shrugging, “No, I don’t think i do.”

She just rolled her eyes and she grew even more annoyed when she heard distance footsteps clattering after him and a distant, “Potter!”

Harry’s eyes widened and she gave him a deadpan stare, her eyes sleepy, “who was that and what did you do?”

He took in a sharp breath, “That would be some Slytherin prefect looking for an excuse to put me in detention, and as for what I did…” he trailed off before flashing a charming grin that affected her more than she would care to admit, “that’s on a need to know basis.”

Juliette pinched the bridge of her nose, evidently too tired to be dealing with this.

As the footsteps drew closer he visibly grew more panicked before turning to her, “you said you owe me right?”

Her brows knit together in confusion and before she could even open her mouth to speak, his arms had wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against his body, his lips pressing against hers.

She gasped in surprise and kissed him back nonetheless, one hand cupped his jaw while the other loved to run through his messy raven locks.

The footsteps drew closer and then drew to a halt right before them, a gasp could be heard and then a rushed, “sorry.” Was muttered before the person ran off again.

It was then that Juliette pulled away from Harry, though still stayed in his arms, not quite ready to leave his warmth yet.

She knew that her face was probably bright red at that moment, feeling the hot blood pound in her ears. Harry had a dazed look on his face and a goofy grin spread across it.

Juliette smiled softly at him before realising that he had only kissed her to avoid detention, so she stepped out of his grasp.

Harry frowned slightly, his arms feeling empty without her.

“So, this makes us even now?” She gave him a small polite smile.

He blinked a few times, mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out, “Um yes of course! Brilliant.”

She hummed before giving him a pointed look, “now go straight back to your dorm before you kiss some other unsuspecting prefect.”

He blushed, giving her a bashful look, “I would never dream of it, only you get the privilege.”

Her heart sped up slightly at the words, “Goodnight then, you flirt.”

He chuckled, “Goodnight darling.”

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snorky · 10 months

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You Got That Kinda Lovin' That Can Be So Smooth

Hey y’all! I hope you enjoy this fic I wrote! Keep in mind that it is a work of fiction and that it isn’t a depiction of any of the characters mentioned. Hope it’s sweet and fluffy enough for y’all! The title is from a lyric in “Smooth” by Santana. Good song check it out. Also Dunner is just <3

Pairing: Vince Dunn x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption (of legal age)

—

The crowded and noisy bar was not the place to be on a Friday night after a long, tiring day of work. Bodies pressed up one another to the music, the stench of alcohol and booze lingering in the air, loud talking over one another. It was a recipe for a headache. Unfortunately, to her friends, a night out at the bar was a great idea. And so, she ordered a fruity, colorful drink to hopefully distract her.

Minutes passed by, and the drink was forgotten, half-empty and sitting on the bar counter next to her. She swirled the tiny umbrella around the glass, hoping to come up with an excuse to tell her friends why she left early. Her mind sat blank, thinking that just disappearing would cause her friends to panic, and saying that she wants to go home is too straight-forward and a bit rude.

A sigh fell from her mouth as she looked up from her drink, looking around the bar for her friends, hoping that they at least enjoyed their night. It was difficult to spot her friends through the crowd of people in the darkened bar, so after a few minutes of searching and to no avail, she gave up.

She looked at her drink, seeing the mixture of yellow pineapple juice and some alcohol swirl against the ice cubes, before deciding to finish the rest of it. It tasted tangy and sweet on her tongue, the cool liquid helping her calm her nerves for a bit.

After a while, the effects of the drink kicked in, the music was a lot less of a headache to deal with, and the crowd of bodies dancing seemed tempting. Everything seemed more tolerable. Maybe all she needed to do was let loose, and enjoy the night with dancing and drinks.

And so she got up off of the barstool and started walking to the dance floor. She felt a bit more confident now that she wasn’t feeling so tired. Music in the air was livelier than before, the beat of it thumping in her chest, and the crowd kept moving along to it.

She moved to the music, becoming lost in her own world for a bit, enjoying how happy she felt at the moment. The melody seemed to dance in the air and around her, a swirling magic of notes. A smile grew on her face as she swayed in the crowd, feeling confident and not caring what others think.

As she looked up, her eyes met someone, his soft curls sticking to his forehead, his eyes full of laughter, and his lips turning into a smile when his friends told him a joke. He looked like an Ancient Greek sculpture with his strong, and yet gentle blushed cheeks that could be seen in the dim bar lighting.

He took a sip of his drink before setting it down, telling something to his friends, and started making his way over to her. She noticed the way the dark t-shirt hugged his body, how his lips looked so soft, how his eyes seemed to shine even in the dark. When he approached her, she noticed that he smelled like sweet rosewood, and the faint scent of the beer he had earlier lingered on him.

He smiled before speaking to her, his lips moved, but it was impossible to hear him over the loud music in the bar.

“I’m really sorry but I can’t hear you!” she shouted.

He paused for a second before bending down near her ear and spoke, “Should we go somewhere quieter?”

She nodded her head and they both made their way out of the bar, the fresh cool air smooth on their skin. It was much more quiet and calm outside of the bar, but the adrenaline was still coursing through their veins.

“Hey, it’s nice to actually hear you know,” he laughed. His voice was a lot more gentle than she expected, and his laugh was adorable. Warmth radiated off of him in the cooler air, and it was tempting for her to not lean closer to him.

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “What’s your name?”

“Vince.” He stuck out his hand for her to shake.

She took his hand and shook it, noticing how warm it was compared to the cool air. “Nice to meet you Vince, you’re really pretty by the way,” she blurted out.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

His lips curled into a shy smile before he started laughing softly, “Thanks, you’re really stunning,”

A gentle blush rose to her face, lightly dusting her cheeks with pink. The fairy-lights that hung outside the bar glowed softly against the walls and the surroundings. “How is your night going?” she asked politely.

“My night is going pretty well,” he said. “Had some drinks with some friends while catching up, met a gorgeous girl who was dancing tonight,” he smirked at the last bit. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’ve had a pretty fun night.” She responded.

“Yeah? Tell me about it,” he grinned.

“Well first I had a drink, Pineapple Mint Caipirinha. Didn’t enjoy it at first but it started tasting good after a while,”

“Sounds fancy,”

“It’s nothing too crazy.” She shrugged. “If you want I can get you it,”

“Whew, trying to buy me drinks now, miss?” he laughed. “It’s alright you don’t have to, it’s stuffed in there, so we don’t have to go back in.”

“Yeah, I’m going to have to agree with you.”

He nodded his head before speaking again, “Back to the question, anything else fun that you did tonight?” His eyes looked at hers, noticing how the tension between them grew a little.

“After the drinks I started enjoying the night more, danced around for a bit, enjoying the music,” she paused as she turned to face him, her hands trailing up his arms lightly, “met a handsomely fine man,” she went on.

His breath hitched for a bit, getting caught in his throat, and he leaned into her touch. “Yeah?” he asked, barely above a whisper. “Anything else fun you did?” He set his hands on her hips gently, making sure that she was comfortable.

“Nope. But I’d be down for more dancing tonight if you are,” she smiled.

He smiled back and let them both linger in the peaceful silence between them, hearing the occasional car pass by down the street, and the patrons of the bar walking out into the night. Music gently flowed out of the bar from the open door, a gentle hum of the melody could be heard.

“May I have this dance then?” His voice is soft and his eyes sweet. The small light hanging outside of the bar casted a glow behind him, giving him a halo around his head. He looked beyond angelic, and the way he smiled added more to it.

She nodded her head, smiling again once her eyes met his, and they started swaying softly to the music. He held her tenderly, almost as if he was afraid she’d slip out of his hands if he wasn’t careful.

He drifted his hands up to hers, and spun her around, making her let out a laugh that filled the quiet air with sweetness. It was like a never-ending moment between the both of them, their smiles making each other swell with happiness, the warmth in each others’ grasp radiating into the crisp night air.

“Gosh, you’re so gorgeous right now, so pretty since I’ve met you,” he whispered.

“Can say the same about you Vince, you look angelic.” She brushed a stray curl that fell out of place back, noticing the flustered look in his face as her hands gently touched his cheekbones.

He leaned in closer to her, his breath fluttering against her lips. “May I kiss you?”

“Yes please.”

And with that, his lips pressed against hers delicately, closing the space between the two of them. It was a soft, gentle kiss that seemed to last a minute, despite only lasting for a few seconds. They both pulled back for a brief moment, their eyes full of adoration, before they kissed each other again.

The glow of the street-lights looked like little stars dancing around the both of them, a fairy-tale moment almost. When they pulled back once again, they started laughing like two teenagers who just fell in love for the first time.

“You’re so, so lovely,” he spoke softly, his thumbs rubbing circles on her hips. His face and neck were flushed with red, and his smile was bright.

“And so are you,” she said as she pressed a small kiss to his rosy cheek.

Her phone started to ring, the display showing her friend’s name on the screen and she picked up. She let her friends know that she was doing okay and that she was just outside getting some fresh air. Her friends had already left the bar a while back, making her realize how late it was.

Her friend hung up and they both stood there outside of the bar, not wanting the night to come to an end. It was quiet now, the city was starting to sleep, and it became evident that she was as well. She yawned, followed by Vince also yawning, making the both of them laugh.

“Hey Vince? I’m really sorry but I have to end the night.” Disappointment laced her voice. “It’s getting late and I’m a bit sleepy, I had a fun night with you though.”

“Oh no worries, I understand. Do you want me to walk you home, or can you make it home safely on your own?” he asked. It was a simple gesture, but it was extremely thoughtful of him.

“I can get home safely Vince, don’t worry.” She smiled.

“That’s good to hear, but can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead,”

“Can I get your number? I just really enjoyed the night with you and I’d like to do it again sometime,” he asked nervously.

“Sure,” she responded. “I enjoyed the night as well and I was hoping we could spend more time together,”

He smiled again at her words, appreciating every bit of it. They exchanged numbers before he proposed an idea.

“Can you stand there and smile for me?” he asked, holding his phone up. She did as he said, giving him a big smile as he snapped a photo for the contact image. His heart warmed at the sight of her smile

“Your turn, Vince.” She held her phone up, capturing an image of him with a large grin, his eyes caught mid-blink. She laughed as she selected that image for his contact, knowing that she wouldn’t regret it.

They said their good-byes and as she was walking away, he shouted out to her, “Let me know when you get home safely!” making her feel warm at the gesture.

As she walked away down the street, she felt happy and warm about her night, appreciating how it wasn’t so bad of an idea to go out with her friends. She kept a mental note to herself to thank her friends the next morning for the fun and eventful night.

When she arrived at her home, her shoes discarded to the side, and her bag on a hook near her door, she laid down on her couch and texted Vince about her arrival at her home.

Made it home!

*Attachment: 1 Image*

Yippie! - Vince

She laughed at his text, finding it hilarious how just one word from him could’ve made her light up with joy like that. After a couple of minutes, she got off of the couch and started making her way to her room, getting ready to go to bed after the long night.

Before she fell asleep, she sent him one more text.

Goodnight, and sweet dreams <3

You too, sweetheart <3 - Vince

#hockey #nhl #nhl writing #vince dunn #seattle kraken #nhl hockey #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #vince dunn x reader #nhl fluff #hockey fic #vince dunn fluff #vince dunn imagine #seattle kraken imagine #nhl players

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seikkoi · 5 months

Text

ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ | dom!tony stark x sugarbaby!reader ( ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ!ᴀᴜ )

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ [1, 3] | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

There was nothing that could keep Tony from having exactly what he wanted—and he deserved a little sweetness in his life. All he had to do was keep from ruining you in the process.

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. non-canon, non-superhero au, sub/dom undertones, slight emotional/verbal manipulation, obsessive + possessive behavior, age gap (reader described as mid-twenties, t.s as mid-forties), mildly dubious consensual situations, explicit mentions of alcohol and drug use, generally not for the light of heart, rough sexual content, reader described as petite word count: 13k for parts 1+2 a/n: two weeks of brainrot later

L.A ended up as sun-kissed and vibrant as rumored, teeming with that felt like three times the people as New York. The plane ride went over smoothly, despite your nerves, although you can’t help criticizing Tony for his carbon footprint. You’re fortunate that the planning aspect is entirely in his hands, from the flight to the hotel. You knew what time to get ready and your destination, and that kept miles of stress away.

Upon reaching the hotel, a grand stone structure adorned with decorative pillars, the potential arrangements for sleeping arrangements loomed over you. The forgotten vulnerability returned, and you walked beside Tony with uneasy legs, hoping your worry was unnecessary.

To your relief, your accommodations are separate. You’re given peace of mind, chastising yourself for thinking the worst as you make the ascent in the elevator. Tony passes you cursory looks, reassuring you and assuming your nerves were travel-related.

In the hallway, Tony excuses himself to attend to some last-minute problems, apologizing and disappearing into his room. You followed suit, groaning against your wooden door as it creaked shut.

No matter how happy you were with Tony, the same thoughts resurfaced time and time again. The whispers in your head that told you the facade would melt away- warning of impending implosion. The memories of the look on his face weeks ago that brought you nearly to tears. To spare yourself the rabbit hole thinking about it would send you in, you decided to sleep it away. The event wasn’t until tomorrow anyway, and your body ached for rest.

You don’t wake till the sun’s long gone, hearing Tony’s knock at your door. A sleepy greeting slips from lips, clad in pajama shorts and tank top. Time and exhaustion fast-tracked your comfort around him, to the point that you don’t think to change when you answer.

Even though you know he’s spent the night running computations and phone calls or whatever it is he does, he looks as refreshed as ever. His three piece suit diminished to just one in that time, leaving him in just a dark button-up and pants—the most unpolished version of Tony you've witnessed you’ve seen, an amusing sight that you commit to memory.

“Hey, sleeping beauty. What do you say to dinner?” His gaze seems to fall anywhere on your petite form but your face for a moment, leaning against the door frame.

“I think everything’s closed by now.” You yawn, already thinking about crawling back into bed. The rumble in your stomach could wait, right?

Behind Tony’s back emerges a shiny bottle of whiskey accompanied by a plastic take-out bag.

“Good thing Cafe Stark is open 24 hours.”

Eventually, you’ll have to build your resolve against his infectious smile, but when combined with the mouth-watering aroma wafting from the bag, the game feels rigged from the start.

You and Tony share a relatively silent meal for once, the small rosewood table in the corner of your room serving as a makeshift dining spot. Mostly because a thousand-year nap still sounded beneficial, speaking through heavy-lidded eyes. Tony, abnormally preoccupied, seldom sets his phone down for more than five minutes at a time. As usual, you don’t truly mind it. Without fail, though, that incessant voice comes back, telling you all sorts of theories.

At some point as you're gathering the empty boxes to toss in the trash, Tony hums in approval before abandoning his phone on the dresser. Before you can ask, the whiskey is brandished by Tony.

You can see past the sunny smile for a moment, catching a glint of worry on his face.

“Everything okay?” The short glasses you bring over make a sharp clink on the aged wood.

Dark amber liquid fills his glass, sliding down his throat in one go. He chuckles at your question, finding it your concern sweet.

“Don’t start worrying about me.” He halts the protest forming on your lips with a kiss, leaning across the table and taking your hands in his.

It’s a potent amnestic, and you forget about all the alarm bells ringing in your ears.

Drunken stories and laughter fill the room for the rest of the night. You both remark here and there that sleep would be wise, yet the hours tick on.

A lull of silence falls between you after Tony finishes roaring at a joke you make about your roommate’s parents. In the hotel’s dim glow, Tony’s eyes look golden. You get lost in them for a time, lying beside him on the cotton sheets.

A few strands of perfectly coiffed hair have fallen out of place, matching his recently wrinkled button-up. There’s never a time you aren’t totally smitten with him, but the whiskey twists into want easily.

“Mind if I ask you something?” Tony looks down at you, leaning back against the headboard with warm and amused eyes.

“Sure, shoot.”

Anything to keep him looking at you like that.

“Your parents, you never talk about them, why?”

Anything but that.

Truthfully, Tony already knew the answer. The first night after he ended up in the bar, he might have done a bit of a background check on you, mostly for his own safety. But also to see what leads a girl like you to a job like that. He wanted to hear it from you, though, and knew by now that nudging you in the right direction worked well enough.

“Not much to talk about really.” The bedsheet drags against your skin when you shift awkwardly. You’re used to this question, and the hate for it only grows with each recurrence.

“Is that so?” He mutters absently, reaching down to twist a strand of your hair between his fingers.

“They died when I was young. Car accident, not much of a story.” You break away from his heated gaze, choosing instead to lay your head against the pillows. At this point, you expect the usual pitiful platitudes people say, something along the lines of I’m so sorry or that’s awful .

“I get it. Mine too. Not that young, though.” Tony adds sympathetically, sliding down onto his side next to you. He’s close enough that you smell the whiskey on his breath, tickling your nose.

“How old were you?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, as Tony seldom shared details about his family. You knew the business he ran was his father’s, and his mother’s name, and that was pretty much it. Most things he seemed to keep private, but you hoped the whiskey would help get you somewhere.

“Twenty-one, while I was in college.” There doesn’t seem to be any hesitancy in his answer, so you feel confident enough to push your luck.

“What were they like?”

“Eh, my father was kind-of an ass, wasn’t much of a loss to the world.” He says it too nonchalantly, throwing you off. You attribute it to the empty bottle.

“I don’t know if I should say sorry or congrats.”

”Either works for me.” Tony laughs, resting an arm on your side. His thumb finds the small patch of exposed skin from your shirt riding up, grazing absentmindedly. It’s distracting as ever, pulling you away from the conversation to focus on his touch.

“At least I had other people, sounds like you’ve just been alone.” He breaks you out of the daydreams you're lost in.

“Wasn’t terrible.” you respond gently, fiddling with a button on his shirt.

“Still, you deserve better.” He watches your eyes drift to the small button, searching for his own resolve. It drove him nearly mad to see you in the exorbitant dresses he buys, but lately something about you dressed down, relaxed, nearly killed him. You look angelic next to him, staring through heavy eyes, clearly in your own little world.

“‘Think I’m doing just fine.” you laugh.

“Hm, maybe.”

He doesn’t disagree completely, but knew you were built for bigger things. A good chunk of his attraction came from knowing how hard you’d worked, a quality he recognized and respected.

Contrary to what news articles say, his intellect and success didn’t come naturally. It was deliberate, hard work to do what he did. Countless hours of studying, research, testing— all to try to mimic a fraction of what his father could do. Since he was a child, Tony was dead set on proving to his father that he could run Stark Industries.

Yet, Howard was never persuaded, and planned on leaving the corporation to one of his lead engineers.

In the end, it didn’t matter anyways. He died before he could sign the paperwork.

Tony saw that same drive and ambition in you, you just needed a little help. And he would make sure it was his.

“Maybe?” you feign offense. The warm hand gracing your side loops to the small of your back.

“Think you just need someone to take care of you.”

“I might be a little too old for that.”

“Not what I meant.”

That pulls you away from his shirt for a moment, meeting his eyes with raised eyebrows.

“What do you mean then?”

The meaning takes too long to dawn on you, and Tony’s resolve feels weaker than ever. Instead of answering you, he goes to kiss you, pulling you close with the hand on your back.

There’s no doubt in his mind that he shouldn’t do this, fearing an inability to be satisfied with just that. That voice is too quiet to pay any attention to, turning the kiss long and passionate. His teeth scrape against your lip, sighing into you when he feels your body relax.

For the first time, he doesn’t wait for your reaction, pushing you onto your back. You feel his hand tighten around your thigh, wrapping your leg to his waist. You’re a worked up mess beneath him soon enough, grabbing at his side to pull him closer. His large biceps rests on either side of your head, fingers entangled in your hair.

Shaky hands reach for the belt on his waist, only to cause Tony to pull away from you completely. He holds both your hands in his, equally dazed and panting. He appears lost in thought for a moment, and you start to worry you made the wrong move.

You don’t have to worry for long, as Tony moves to the end of the bed, pulling you with him and kneeling before you quickly. Hungry lips on your bare thighs leave your head light, fingers already hooked around your shorts.

“Tony, what are you-”

“Taking care of you.” he murmurs as they slip past your ankles.

The hungry gaze washes over your center, catching your breath in your throat. You don’t get the chance to respond—a heavy tongue gracing your folds. Tony moans at the taste of you, reverberating up your spine. He hates that he made himself wait for this—every sound from your mouth worsening the strain in his pants.

Your tensing legs are tossed haphazardly over his shoulders. You expected the same tenderness he always granted to you, but this is entirely different. He grips your hips rigidly, wrapping his lips around your clit and pulling you as close as he could.

His ears focus on each moan, how the pitch in your whines heightened when he sucks hard on the aching bundle of nerves. A large, flat hand across your stomach gets you to lie back, hands flying to the dark locks tickling your thighs.

He’s obviously making up for a perceived loss of time, increasing intensity with every swipe of his tongue, your arousal coating his mouth. It sends your body into overdrive, hands reaching for him, searching for any kind of reprieve.

Tony knows he’ll never get enough when your breath turns low and stuttery, fingers digging into the back of his nape and the hand bruising your hip. You lose sense of what sounds are coming from Tony and which are coming from the mess between your thighs, mixing into a symphony of ecstasy in your ears.

He unlocks a new melody, the addictive sound of your broken, pleading cries calling out his name. He wants to tell you how fucking incredible you sound, but that would require stopping and there’s no chance he was doing that.

You try to tell him to slow down, the arousal in your stomach building faster than you have time to process. It’s a wasted effort, having any attempts at forming full sentences ruined by the tongue lapping at your entrance.

You feel an approving moan shake through your core, thighs growing stickier. He could feel how close you were, hips shuddering in his grasp. He only grips harder in response, holding you still as you jerk against his tongue. Without warning, the tight bundle in your gut reaches its crest, and Tony gets lost in the river of filth that leaves your mouth.

You’re foolish for thinking he’d stop there, but instead his lips return to suck gently on your clit, moaning into you. Just when you think you might pass out from the overstimulation, he pulls away to grace your inner thigh with light kisses.

Tony reclines, captivated by the dazed look on your face and the soft panting of your lips.

You sit up to face him on unsteady arms, your hazy eyes revealing that there's only one thought on your mind— him , just how he needed it.

The earlier worries become ironically useless, as you sleep beside Tony that night.

The next evening’s celebration unfolds on a quiet street, a hidden gem thankfully only hosting around twenty or thirty people. The ambient lights of the quaint club aren’t dim enough for you to ignore how underdressed you are. Envisioning a more formal dinner, you dressed simply in flowy olive dress, while other attendees exuded glamor in fancy suits. Tony of course being no exception, donning a dark gray suit and black shirt. Tony seemed unphased by the music and dancing, walking in and greeting people without pause.

On this particular night, Tony has a singular mission — to keep you in his sight at all times. More accurately, to prevent you from engaging conversation with a select few individuals without his presence. It's not just about showcasing you; it's mostly protective, an attempt to mitigate the risks involved in intertwining you with this side of his life.

Nearly anything seemed worth having you by his side. It’s a good weakness to have, he thinks. He swears it’s because you make him a better person, and though you always laugh it off and tell him he was already great, it’s another thing that gnaws at the back of your mind.

You're introduced to several of the guests, some names vaguely familiar, others entirely new. Natasha Romanoff stands out, her presence seeming to be the most grounded in reality. It becomes apparent that she is another member in this new endeavor of Tony’s. When you ask what she does for a living, she responds with business, and nothing more. Worse, when you ask about the other members, Natasha shoots a cautionary glance at Tony and smoothly redirects the conversation, leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

For the most part afterwards, Tony’s mission is a success. He does his best to stay tethered to you, dodging boring conversation after boring conversation. Despite his vigilance, the forces of nature are ineffable, leading you to the bathroom after a few champagne shoots.

He’d only looked away for one second , he swears, but all it took was a moment to lose track of you.

Upon your exit from the restroom, you decide to get ahead of your hangover. You catch the bartender’s attention at the bar instead of finding Tony. As you wait for the glass of water, your eyes scan the room to find him. Instead, a tall rugged blonde man takes over your view, sliding into the seat next to you. You pay him little mind, still scanning for Tony. Piercing blue eyes won’t leave you though, even as you thank the bartender and continue to search for the billionaire.

“What’s a pretty young thing like you doing with an old bastard like Stark?”

His words stop you in place, turning on your heel.

“I’m sorry?”

The smirk on his face is cold, unnerving. You don’t recall meeting him earlier in the night, and you're certain you wouldn’t have forgotten. He shifts in the barstool, facing you as he sips from his glass before laughing dryly.

“Forgive me, you just don’t like the kind of girl Tony normally parades around. Unless merchants of death are your kind of thing. And you’re definitely not the escort type.”

“Excuse me?”

This only humors the man more, and worsens your thoughts.

“What,” he continues once he’s done laughing at the look on your face. “It’s a compliment, really. Tony’s girls normally overdo it with the makeup, it’s a dead giveaway—”

“No, what do you mean ‘merchant of death’?”

“Oh, come on, you—” he responds patronizingly, “Shoot, is this your first night? He might not have told you yet—”

“Told me what ?” You don’t have the energy to explain to this guy that you aren’t getting an hourly pay for this.

There’s too much fun in it for him to drag this out, even though he knows his time alone with you is both costly and limited. He makes the decision to laugh again and down the rest of his glass before answering you.

“Don’t tell me he picked a dumb one. At least Pepper had a brain between her ears?”

“Who’s Pepper?”

The stars are aligning perfectly for him.

“His wife?” he fakes a puzzled expression, making you feel oblivious for not knowing.

As you stand there shocked and confused, your eyes catch Tony walking steadfast towards the bar.

“See, they do this thing, ‘fight, cheat, threaten divorce, make up, repeat’ cycle. It’s amusing most of the time, just shocked to see someone like you in it.”

Across the room, Tony’s blood starts to boil.

He’d caught the look you gave him, a confusion-ridden disgust that he couldn’t place until he saw who you were with. He left whatever suit was yapping his ear off, pushing through the small, crowded space. He can’t do anything but curse himself for being so careless—unfortunately, he’s not fast enough, watching Steve’s mouth open like a floodgate.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Rogers.” He speaks through gritted teeth, fists balled at his sides. He takes over the small space between you two, and over his shoulder you see the blonde man lean back in apparent satisfaction. There’s no point in asking what was said, Tony can guess well enough.

“ What ?” Steve responds, a dramatic shrug of the shoulders follows.

Steve's cold smirk adds insult to injury, leaving Tony torn between the desire to break Steve's jaw and the fear of you never seeing him the same.

The carefully, thoughtful plan he had for you is in disarray, thanks to Steve. You weren’t supposed to know about Pepper for another month, maximum. He planned on taking you to the gallery and telling you, but that chance was robbed from him.

It felt entirely unfair to him, having his dirty laundry thrown at you without any context. To prevent creating a bigger hole, though, he turns back to you. You’d spent the last minute wrapping your head around everything said. You felt almost physically sick, but mostly stupid for ignoring everything sooner. All that security you felt last night? Gone in a flash.

“You have to let me explain this—”

“I want to leave.”

Tony sighs, figuring it wasn’t the worst you could have said, but hates hearing the tone in your voice nonetheless. So, stubbornly and more than pissed, he leads you away from Rogers to the exit, and tries not to think about how you recoil away when his hand graces your back.

He tries speaking to you in the car, to no avail. You're too busy beating yourself up for being so stupid. You had fallen for it, the charm, the gifts, the mystery— it worked brilliantly and earned you nothing but hurt in the end. Just like you feared it would.

A second attempt in the elevator wins him no prizes either.

There’s a third attempt brewing when you reach your floor. You had barely looked at him, and each time it felt like being stabbed. You didn’t see a point in talking about anything, making a beeline for your door. You imagined yourself packing, leaving in the morning and never seeing him again. Go back to the life you were supposed to be living, not this fantasy with him.

It’s not a plan of action you accept happily, and either way you don’t get the chance. The expectant sound of your hotel room door shutting behind you never comes, stopped by Tony’s leather shoe in the wooden frame. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was letting you shut him out. He could read your face the entire way back, seeing your full intent to leave without another word.

“Just go away.” You want to sound angrier, but defeat is the only emotion you muster.

“You’re overreacting.” He declares, voice bouncing in the empty hall.

“Really? Am I?”

You’re shocked when the door is pushed open fully. The space you try to take back by stepping away is overtaken. Tony shuts the door behind him, harsh enough to make you jump a bit.

“You are.” Tony’s hands disappear into his gray suit pockets, looking down at your alarmed frame.

“And you’re married.” Another step back, only for Tony to step forward again.

“Do you see a ring on my finger, hm?”

“That’s not the fucking point.” One more step back, in vain. The feeling of being trapped screams at you, but doesn’t move your body. “What else have you lied about?”

“I have never lied to you.”

That seemed more believable than anything else. The small breadth of space you gain is taken once more. You don’t move again, knowing the wall wasn’t far behind you. It pissed you off even more to see his jaw clenched, staring at you as if you were having some tantrum and not rightfully upset.

“Then who’s Pepper? How many other women are you toying with like little playthings? You’re an arrogant, asshole, liar -” you spat, letting your anger surpass his own.

Tony moves closer, and you end up against the wall regardless of your efforts. You start to tell him off again, a rant cut short by a hand grasping your face, and another pining your wrist to the wall. Your heart quickens, squirming against him.

“You’re starting to offend me, honey.” he says lowly, the warmth of his breath spreading across your face. His dark eyes don’t leave you, and you have a sense this is worse than throwing a drink in someone’s face. He was growing tired of this recurrent debate from you. Many adjectives could be used to describe him—arrogant, hot-headed, selfish, but disloyal wasn’t one— and he considered it a disrespectful thing to insinuate.

“You,” he trails off, thumb shifting down to your throat. “—are the only one. Pepper and I have been done for a long time. Steve knows that.”

“Did she leave after she got tired of you sleeping around?”

‘ Did Steve care to mention how Pepper cheated first? How she threatened to sell me out if I left her? Of course not ’, Tony thinks.

More panicked, harsh words of doubt and inquiry leave you, but they’re quickly shushed by Tony. You know you shouldn’t but you feel a familiar guilt for the disapproval clouding his face. You don’t have the foresight to see that you were right for making them.

“You wanna call me a liar? What exactly have I been dishonest about, huh?” The question is clearly extremely rhetorical.

“If you were just some ‘ plaything ’ to me,” he mocks, the hands on the side of your face tightening, electrifying your skin—not enough to hurt, just enough to keep your eyes on him. “We wouldn’t be here, you should know that.”

“Then why keep it from me?”

You don’t even know how to ask what Steve meant by ‘merchant of death’, and honestly, you don’t think it’s worth making things worse. You hate that it’s this easy for him, hate the conflicting feelings—his touch melting your anger. It’s no help that you didn’t want any of it to be true anyway.

“If I decide you don’t need to know something, you don’t. Simple as that.”

In Tony’s mind, this was for your benefit in the long run, and he doesn’t see a need to explain that. You should just trust him, or atleast you did before Rogers’ opened his big fucking mouth. His anger is mostly placed with the blonde man, but he still expects better from you. He couldn’t have you believing others over him. You’d already expressed doubts about his loyalty before, and he spent a lot of time repairing that.

Leave it to Blondie to ruin it all.

To his dismay, you remain silent. He pictures the inner-workings of your mind, doubting everything he’s done to win your trust. The hand against your throat and arm keeping you in place might not be helping his case, but still they remain. He can’t fathom letting go, not if there’s even a slightest chance you’ll leave.

“That’s applied to almost everything in your life so far.” There’s fear in poking the proverbial bear, yet you do it anyway. There’s too many thoughts battling in your mind, causing the words to nearly catch in your throat.

“What is it you need to believe me—to know that you’re mine?” His voice shifts, remaining stern but turning heavier. He releases your arm, moving to grasp the green fabric at your side.

There was obvious disdain between Tony and the man at the bar, giving you deniability to add to his claims. You started to think it was more likely he knew which buttons to push, to put you at odds with each other. Maybe you were getting entangled in corporate politics you didn’t understand without Tony. This was your mistake, just like before.

The words overheat in your mind, warming your skin and wreaking havoc on your thoughts. Some tell you nothing would change it, that you wanted to give up on this. Others, louder, tell you anything would win you over, that you were looking for any reason not to. The mental gymnastics start anew, but end with the same conclusion.

You want to chastise yourself for how willfully you fell back into his eyes, angry and want-ridden. The confidence you had earlier about leaving becomes a difficult feat to manage, overtaken by every screaming aspect of you that urges you to stay. Tony didn’t know it then, but he got what he wanted regardless of the wrench thrown by Steve— you, right in the palm of his hand.

He expects a genuine answer, one you don’t have. So, in typical fashion, he decides for you.

Tony considers it your fault for what he’s about to do, staring back at him with doe-eyes and flushed skin. Plans are built to be changed anyways—and he clearly needed to send a stronger message.

Without warning, you’re pulled by shoulder the short distance from the wall to the nearby chaise, resting in front of a high mirror. You question Tony, to no reprieve, pushed forward onto your knees. In the reflection, you watch his arm snake around your body, returning a rough hand to your throat, bringing your back flush with his chest- his other hand tight on your hip.

“ Relax ,” he whispers against your ear, and chills run up your spine.

“Tony-” you start, trying to twist in your position to look back at him. It’s a useless effort, large arms easily keeping you place.

“Eyes up,” he instructs, and your attention is directed forwards, meeting his eyes in the reflection.

The olive dress is bunched to your waist, witnessing his hand teasingly graze along your thigh before disappearing under the cascading fabric. It stops there a moment, fingers dancing at the hem of your panties. Desire stirs in you with little prompting, Tony’s lips trailing down your neck nipping gently.

“Don’t you see what I see—how pretty you look, doll?” he stays locked onto you, holding you steady when you jerk against his hand folding behind your underwear. Soft fingers draw slow circles on your clit, pulling a gasp from your mouth. “—why would I need anyone else.”

It’s pure filth, watching your own body react to every movement in the shadowy room, every bite against your heated neck. Tony’s quiet declarations only dampen your mind.

“You’re perfect, ” His voice drops lower, increasing his pace as the hand on your neck grows firm. “—just for me.”

There’s static in the air, surrounding your limbs. The obscene picture in front of him sets every nerve on fire, watching your hands reach for his arm, watching you try so hard to not fall into the obscenity in your ear.

Gravity is indiscriminate, so you fall nonetheless. The heavy fingers tease your wet entrance, only to retract and circle your clit before returning for more. It’s all soft and light, barely as much as you need. You turn desperate before you know it, focused on the flex of his bicep in the mirror with every stroke.

Unfortunately for you, this wasn’t really about pleasure. This was about trust. He needed that, for you to know how consumed he was by you. He’s certain you can feel his hard member pressing into the back of your thighs, a heated, heavy reminder that you were all he wanted. You must know— based on the wetness pooling in his hand and your eyes centered on him.

“All mine .”

You cry out when a finger surpasses your entrance. You watch it be cut off by the hand at your throat, gripping harder to keep your noises at a minimum. There’s no resistance, wet and desperate enough to suck him in completely. The hand bruising your hip rocks you back onto his fingers.

All those questions you had, about Pepper, his work, Steve—they’re gone. Disintegrated in the same heat that coils your stomach. Moving away from Tony’s sickeningly slow ministrations isn’t an option, trapped between his body and his tight hold.

“I should put that rude little mouth to better use.” Tony whispers, free of any reason to hold himself back. You felt undervalued, fine. He’d see to it that’d never happen again. He’d let you hear just how badly he wanted you. He needed that same look in your eye from last night. The one that shined for him and only him.

He doesn’t take the stutter of your frame as a reason to slow down, only a reason to push you over the edge. The finger inside you is joined by a second, curving into you. The lace of panties is soaked through, a dark patch spreading to your thighs. You can’t focus on the mirror any longer, shutting your eyes tightly as you reach your peak—softly rushing through you as Tony’s praises flood into your ear.

He doesn’t let go—large arms wrapping around you until your breath returns to normal. You open your eyes to meet Tony’s lustful eyes reflected back to you.

“Still having doubts?”

Tony’s patience was completely run through, the short fuse sparked to unrepairable levels. Again, he thinks it’s mostly your fault. He had no issue treating you like gold, but he only thought it right that you at least trusted him.

You give a quick shake of the head, panting and watching the hands around you leave. You turn and sit in the chaise facing him, his jaw still clenched.

“Good.” he responds slowly. Eyes rake over you beneath him, with Tony imagining a hundred more ways to have you moaning his name. He finds the willpower not to act on them, instead turning for the door.

“You should rest.” He says before you can find the right words to say, door shutting behind him.

Sleeping proves difficult—thoughts overwhelmed with Tony being a room away. There’s also Pepper and Steve floating around your mind, though never for long. Before you can give way to thinking about it, you inevitably end up catching a glimpse of the mirror in the corner—and everything Tony said plays in vivid sound. Then, an unbearable warmth pools in between your thighs, causing your thoughts to be consumed by him again.

The frustrating cycle repeats for hours.

Finally, you decide you’ve had enough, leaving your suite and winding up in front of Tony’s door. He answers on the third tap of your fingers, clad in tight black briefs. You have enough clarity to keep your eyes from focusing on that, or the exposed sculpted chest.

“Can I come in?” You feel pathetic for the way you ask, but it’s worth it, because he steps aside for you to enter.

You walk across the large room, sitting on the end of the unmade bed. Tony stays in the middle of the room, arms crossed in front of his body, waiting.

“You said I don’t need to know everything but,” you start, only growing more anxious when Tony raises an impatient eyebrow. “Pepper, what happened there? Why have I never heard of her before? At least tell me that.”

Tony sighs, contemplating if the distrust in your eye is worth possibly pushing you away for good. You’d see through any bullshit he tried to sell, not that he would make something up anyway. But, it’s for that reason that he knows he won’t get away with telling a half truth. He decides to take it as a sign that you’re still here, in his room, and that you still didn’t leave.

“We were married, she cheated.” He decides to omit his own revenge cheating. He considered their relationship done at that point anyway, just took him too long to realize.

“So, you’re divorced?”

“Not exactly, it’s complicated.” He sighs again. “But we are not together—in any capacity.”

You want to ask what exactly is complicated about signing a piece of paper, but you leave well enough alone.

“Then why not tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d stay if you knew. Couldn’t risk it.” It’s mostly true.

It comes out soft and heartfelt enough for you to believe it. Besides, so many parts of you didn’t want to be upset with him, for any reason. You didn’t have the will to end things, and you didn’t want to find it either. You stare at the floor, trying to process this new aspect of him. His shadow moves across the floor, coming before you to caress your face.

“You don’t need to worry, doll. “ Tony murmurs, trying to get that last little drop of doubt out of your mind. “You’ll always be mine, and I’ll always take care of you.”

part three

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