Tumgik
#it seemed appropriate for father's day
skyshipper · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO DIN DJARIN Din & Grogu looking at each other requested by @djarin​
1K notes · View notes
aledmorningstar · 1 month
Text
╰┈➤Misunderstood
Summary: How the gang finds out about Sukuna's girlfriend in a misunderstanding.
Relationship: Ryomen Sukuna/Reader
Word count: 3.0k
Note: I'm a liar, I know I said this would go up yesterday, in my defense we set very optimistic goals. Please comment and feel free to send me anything to my inbox
-‘๑’-: No curses au, uni au, sfw, humor, fluff, bad english
Tumblr media
The house of the twins Yuji and Ryomen seemed more lively than normal, as every weekend they had planned a movie afternoon, the meetings began early after leaving school, buying snacks, preparing comfortable clothes and choosing some games of table.
Yuji's face wrinkled into a displeased grimace at seeing his twin dressing casually to go out for a walk down the street, while he and his friends were already prepared wearing their comical pajamas, it wasn't fair. This time it was Yuji's turn to choose the movie so as not to let his brother get away with it.
“What are you doing?”
Sukuna turned to look for a second indifferently at his brother while he finished fastening the buttons of his dark shirt. How could he take seriously his brother who maintained an irritated pout while wearing those ridiculous tiger-themed full-body pajamas?
"I'm going out, tell mom I'll be late"
Yuji's moan of annoyance echoed throughout the house, drawing the attention of Nobara and Megumi who were stealthily trying to spy on the conversation by hiding behind a wall.
"You said you would watch Human Worm 4 with us today!"
The one with the caramel eyes began to complain about the injustice that was occurring, a perfect time for his faithful friends to take action.
“We already prepared everything, you can't leave us stranded for an afternoon of movies!”
Nobara grumbled as she tried to fix the sleeves of her raccoon pajamas.
"We made a pact, you must suffer with us"
Megumi was supposed to be the most mature of the group, perhaps Sukuna had overestimated him because he never imagined seeing him share the same neuron as his friends while also wearing ridiculous beige dog pajamas.
“It's a shame brats, it'll have to be another day.”
The older twin's hands didn't stop moving trying to find the car keys; he had somehow managed to look appropriately with a hint of elegance, but without losing that menacing aura, a pair of black pants held up by an expensive belt that he had stolen from his father, a dark gray shirt with the first few buttons open showing his collarbones and the sleeves perfectly arranged at his elbows showing his tattooed arms.
"You look like a criminal"
“Who said I'm not?”
Itadori's intentions to plant some blame on his brother for abandoning them on a seemingly important night were noticeable for miles.
"At least have the decency to tell me where the hell you're going."
Sukuna took a while to respond, his eyes straying suspiciously and the trio could see a slight nervousness on his face. Wait, nerves? Sukuna? Those words were naturally contrary, it even seemed strange to put them together in one sentence. Here was definitely another shoe that was taking a while to drop.
"Mind your own business, don't be nosy"
Itadori instantly stood between his brother and the front door, blocking his way, he would get to the bottom of this matter at any cost.
"Are you planning something bad? Mom will be angry if you get into trouble again"
"Yes, yes, yes. I plan to do many bad and illegal things, in fact in this mood I plan to strangle the first person in front of me"
Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi looked at each other before leaving the hallway clear, letting Sukuna walk.
"Behave badly, take good care of yourself and if they discover you, deny everything"
“See you”
Once the so-called evil twin left the house, the hallway was completely silent for a few seconds.
“Don't you feel...? Curiosity?"
An excited Nobara looked at her friends with bright, gossip-hungry eyes.
"No not really"
Megumi's voice was ignored as Itadori pushed the Fushiguro boy's face away with his hand.
"I was hoping you'd ask, Nobara! In fact, my brother has been acting strange lately."
Itadori put on a thoughtful expression as he remembered his brother's unusual behavior in recent weeks.
"What do you mean he's been acting strange?"
At that moment Nobara had taken on a detective attitude, while the previously disinterested Megumi began to listen attentively to his friends.
“He's been coming home late, more than usual.”
“That doesn't seem strange for someone like him.”
An exalted Itadori raises his hands dramatically as he defends his argument.
“But when he is usually late it is always because he is causing problems in the streets and he is not at all careful with his arrival, now it is different!”
Sharing a room with Itadori, Sukuna didn't care how scandalous he could be when he showed up at home after curfew. He didn't pay attention to the fact that the noise of his shoes being thrown to any side of the room or that the sound of his swear words every time he tripped over something could disturb his brother's sleep.
Lately, however, the nights that Sukuna had spent late away from home had become more frequent, and Itadori couldn't help but notice even in the dead of night how messy his twin's clothes were every time he returned with silent footsteps and he also did not overlook the large number of marks that stood out on Sukuna's neck.
“Also, he has been trying hard in all his school subjects, he has turned in all his homework and sometimes he goes out to the library to study. Did you hear what I said? He goes to the library to study!”
“That's definitely not the Sukuna we know, something is happening to him.”
The three teenagers headed to the living room to sit down to discuss more calmly and solve that mystery.
“Do you think someone is bullying him?”
Itadori looked worried for a split second at Nobara's statement until Megumi gave him a strange, brief sarcastic smile.
“Are you serious right now? Do you think Sukuna, the most feared man on campus, could be bothered by someone? Jesus Christ even earned the nickname “The King of Curses”
They didn't need much time to agree with Megumi, it was impossible to imagine Sukuna being submissive to anyone.
“True, it would make more sense for him to be the one who bothered someone… It can't be possible”
“I told him clearly not to get into trouble, but he never listens to me!”
“Wait, Yuji, calm down. Don't you think that if that's the case, he's spending too much time on that person?”
Itadori seemed to think about it for a second and his face transformed into one of much more dramatic horror than before.
"So he really hates that person! Maybe he's planning a murder? Your brother isn't exactly known for being patient"
Nobara's words were the little push Itadori needed to panic.
"Sukuna definitely can't go to the correctional facility again!... Mom was very sad back then..."
Nobara and Megumi looked into each other's eyes, unable to abandon their friend in such a situation.
"Fine! Our mission today is to prevent your brother from becoming a criminal.”
"Are we allowed to use force? I still have to get revenge for the books I lent him."
The brown-haired girl, Kugisaki, was the first to stand up and was followed by Fushiguro. It seemed like a scene worthy of a movie, this was the motivational part because both friends extended their hands to the boy in tiger pajamas.
“Wait, wait, wait… What happened to your books?”
“I'll ask your brother when I see him.”
It had been approximately 30 minutes since the trio of friends had located and followed Sukuna, a difficult mission that had begun with the friends running after the older twin's car. The fatigue was overcome by surprise when seeing the target enter a flower shop.
“We're late, he's already planning the funeral!”
“Wait, give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe… Maybe he's going to visit a friend?”
“Impossible, my brother has no friends”
Nobara and Yuji's brief talk was interrupted when they saw Sukuna leaving that flower shop with a huge and pretty bouquet of yellow carnations.
"You see it? Maybe your brother is not as bad as he seems” Nobara's voice tried to be optimistic, and it also seemed strange to her that a man would buy flowers for no apparent reason.
“Now I'm quite confused” Itadori, for his part, narrowed his eyes, staring at Sukuna, trying to read his brother's mind.
Megumi spoke with a stiff voice drawing the attention of his friends.
"Don't be so surprised, in the language of flowers, carnations of that color mean contempt"
"Is he turning his assassination attempt into a performance? He's getting creative"
"Hey, he's leaving. Hurry up"
The gang quickly got into a taxi and like every chase scene, Itadori and Nobara yelled at the driver to follow the car in front of them, Megumi had to apologize to the driver at the end of the ride.
Sukuna drove his car until he reached the darkest and most dangerous neighborhood that anyone could imagine, clearly that place had an invisible sign indicating that it was better not to be there, there were few passers-by and the streets were cold with graffiti everywhere.
The older twin got out of his car after having entered the area a little, he walked as if that place was his territory, as if he felt at home, he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, raising them to his elbows, with a bored look he observed the time on his watch and then leaned his back against the wall waiting patiently. Meanwhile, the trio had remained hidden behind a pile of boxes and seemingly useless objects, thinking about Ryomen's intentions.
"There isn't a soul in this place, what is he planning to do?"
Itadori's question was answered when Megumi held his jaw making him look to his right, his eyes widened as he saw a girl with a small frame, transmitting an aura of delicacy and fragility, she was the complete stereotype of a little princess wearing a pink dress and white sneakers, light makeup and a flower crown adorning her hair, she looked out of context walking with a smile and humming a song in that horrible alley.
"It can't be her... There's no way Sukuna..."
Nobara's words were cut off when the red-eyed man put out his cigarette and walked over to where the girl was with a proud smile on his face.
The fear that this small, fragile woman could be hurt by his violent brother made Itadori quickly get up from his hiding place and stand in front of his brother.
"Sukuna! Stop right there, don't do it!"
The sudden entrance of his nosy brother surprised Sukuna who maintained a displeased scowl at his twin's actions.
"What the fuck? Get out of the way brat, I'm on something important right now"
"Don't you dare take another step, don't do something you'll regret!"
Itadori's voice took a drastic change, sounding too threatening compared to his usual cheerful tone.
"What the hell are you talking about? Leave me alone, I don't have time for this."
Sukuna looked at the horrified girl who was just a few meters away from him, he pushed his brother away with one hand with the intention of walking towards where she was, however he was stopped and subdued on the ground by Megumi.
“Don't even try it, you disgusting scoundrel.”
“Leave me alone, you fucking bastards!”
While the three men argued and fought among themselves, Nobara also came out of her hiding place and walked towards the frightened woman, being careful not to exalt her even more, Kugisaki placed his hands on her shoulders trying to calm her down.
"Are you okay? “Did he do something to you?”
The girl's hands remained covering her mouth, completely surprised by the situation. She instantly left Nobara and ran quickly to where Sukuna was lying on the ground.
"What are you doing?! Get your hands off him!"
Megumi and Itadori's movements stopped, still holding Sukuna on the ground, they turned to look completely surprised at the owner of that little voice, their minds went blank as they watched her approach, she put her hands on Fushiguro's chest. making an attempt to push him away from the red-eyed twin.
"What are you doing to my boyfriend?! Leave him alone!"
Still bewildered, Itadori was the first to move away and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder for him to do the same, allowing Sukuna to stand up a little dazed.
"I don't know what 'Kuna did to you, but what you are doing is not right, it is not right to intimidate others, problems are solved by talking"
You stood in front of your boyfriend trying to be the one to defend him this time, you used to be a little shy when talking to strangers, but you weren't going to let your lover be the victim of such an unfair situation.
"Honey, calm down. They are—"
"No, love! They were very mean to you, no matter who they are!"
You knew that Sukuna had a special weakness for you that made him want to protect you from any danger, everyone told you that, obviously he would also want to take control of this situation in his hands. No, this time it was your turn to protect him, to be his knight in shining armor.
On the other hand, there were also the three idiots who had tried to play detective, watching the situation in astonishment.
"She... just called him love"
“Yes, she really did”
"I can't believe it"
Ryomen had tried to calm his girlfriend's little anger by taking her hands and caressing them, it worked for a few seconds until that trio spoke again.
Upon hearing the incredulous voices of those strangers, you let go of Sukuna's hands and walked a few steps close to those you thought were criminals.
"Listen, my parents are very important people, I will make sure you are punished appropriately"
Your acute and sweet angry voice was silenced by Sukuna's lips, one of his large hands finding a place on your waist while the other caressed your soft cheek.
"It's okay, princess"
"No, it's not okay-"
You tried to reply to his deep voice, you would be lying if you said it didn't make you shiver, his voice was only directed at you, only for you to hear, that made you calm down and also lowered the tone of your voice.
"Pretty, this is my stupid brother and his friends."
"...Impossible, it can't be…, they were subduing you"
"Don't worry, I'm sure they have a good explanation for doing all this, right?"
The affectionate look that Sukuna had given his supposed girlfriend had changed drastically when he turned to look at his friends, removed his touch from his beloved and walked towards the frightened trio, cracking the fingers of his fists.
"Last words?"
Approximately 10 minutes had passed after that disastrous encounter, Sukuna had considered himself generous that day so he decided to take his brother and his friends to the house where they should have stayed from the beginning, very kind, it had nothing to do with his girlfriend will look at those three idiots like abandoned puppies.
"How were we supposed to know you were visiting your girlfriend?"
"What kind of dates are you taking her on?"
"Yeah, you looked like you were about to commit a crime!"
Of course Itadori, Megumi and Nobara tested their patience throughout the car ride, complaining from the back seats and trying to alleviate the pain caused by the car owner's blows. Your curious little eyes turned to look at the trio with intrigue.
"Why do you say that?"
None of them knew how to answer your question, the answer was so obvious that they thought you were stupid or blind, of course none of them said that thought out loud, not when they felt Sukuna's psychopathic gaze in the rearview mirror. However, that didn't stop Yuji from continuing the conversation either.
"You were alone in that horrible and dangerous place, it is the perfect opportunity for a madman"
"Oh, that..."
Your calm reaction to that comment only confused them more, you were too sweet to be in those places and even worse to be there with Sukuna for no good reason.
"Her parents are renowned people and they do not agree with our relationship, that is why we must meet in the most discreet places possible"
"Sometimes dad hires people to watch me, so our meeting point for dates is that place."
The older twin's words left the dynamic trio thinking, especially Itadori and Nobara, Megumi didn't really care much, your complementation made them imagine a current version of Romeo and Juliet. The explanations of your strange relationship had clarified most of his doubts regarding the strange day.
"Wait, what about the flowers?"
Nobara's comment made all the attention focus on Ryomen who wrinkled his face in confusion until he remembered the detail that his friend was talking about at the same time that he stopped the car in front of his house.
"What flowers?"
"Oh right, I brought you something"
Sukuna got out of the car and went to the back taking something out of the trunk, a nice big bouquet of flowers appeared in front of you held by your handsome boyfriend.
"Oh, honey, you shouldn't have bothered."
"It's no bother when I can make you happy"
You received the beautiful flowers in your small hands, allowing yourself to smell them, such a fresh smell while you lovingly observed your loved one and he returned the same look, absorbed in that cloying atmosphere.
Of course that beautiful moment was not the most comfortable for everyone present, much less for Yuji Itadori imitating his twin with a shrill and annoying voice, since he had never seen his brother in that silly state.
"It's no bother when I can make you happy"
“I'm going to kick your ass”
Megumi couldn't stay silent for long either, because something kept echoing in her mind.
"But the meaning of flowers..."
"Excuse me?"
You looked at him with a smile so sweet and innocent that he hesitated for a second on his next words.
“Those flowers have a negative meaning…”
"It's funny you think my 'Kuna knows the meaning of flowers"
"We should have assumed that"
⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭 master list is here
4K notes · View notes
ghouljams · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
With Love, König tags: König x f!reader/f!oc, regency era au, manners, collaring, courting, king!König, reader is mildly insane, König is going to marry you and that's a threat Summary: Your fiance runs off, your reputation is in ruins, and worst of all König has decided he's going to make you his queen. He doesn't even ask your father's permission to do it.
You receive word that your fiance has left you in the short hours of the morning. It comes in a carefully folded note, with his seal, and his signature. It's cruel, but not unexpected. You'd known for long enough that this was an engagement for nothing but your title. Still, you shed a few tears onto the parchment at the loss of your future, bleak as it might have been. You can rest assured that your parents, and the rest of the social world, have already received the news. You expect they'll start looking for another match for you soon.
The second letter is somehow more surprising. You don't recognize the black wax seal, or the handwriting. You don't know how it slipped past your family without being opened, but it's tucked on the same tray as your fiance's letter and you break the seal with cautious fingers.
"My Heart," it begins, and you frown at the familiarity, "You have bewitched me, body and soul. My every hour is spent with thoughts of you. The memory of your touch is only remedied by my own hand, and even that is not enough. I hope that you will accept this small token of thanks for the dance we shared, and look forward to our next meeting with the same fervor I do."
You look up from the letter to stare at the wall. You narrow your eyes at the wallpaper and do your best to try and think of who the fuck is sending you love letters. Certainly not your ex-fiance, he never did more than send you a note asking you to wear something "more appropriate" for the next party. You look back at the letter. It's a bit stuck at the bottom, likely to keep whatever token it contains in place. You slip your finger carefully under the edge of the fold to open it. A silk ribbon flutters onto your lap as you stare down at the king's signature. "With Love, König" in perfect royal handwriting.
You scramble to ring for your maid, you need to get dresses and you need to speak to your father immediately. Your maid seems to either not know or not care that you are received a letter from a king because she helps you get ready with her usual compliments and coos. Disinterested in the day ahead of you, you always assume. She ties the ribbon behind your ears when you ask her what to do with it. The black clashes, but you don't have time to argue.
König is already in the sitting room with your father when you finally make it downstairs. He stands almost as quickly as you drop into a low curtsy. Your father stands too and you're taken aback by how small he looks next to König. Your father has always been a proud man, a man to be feared as much as respected, but next to König he may as well be a child. You drop your eyes to the floor, proper and polite.
"Gott in himmel," König breathes, and your eyes dart to him. His brows are drawn together, like he's in pain. You can't tell if he's displeased when you can only see half of his face, his mouth obscured by a dark black cloth. You meet his eyes and are quick to avert your gaze, lest the heat in his burns you.
You rise from your curtsy and keep your eyes on the floor. "My lord," you greet, and hear him hum. He's pleased you think.
"My lady," The way he stresses "my" makes you shiver, his lady, "look at me when I speak to you." You're quick to follow his command, the tightness in his tone is intriguing, but you can't see a reason for it when you do look up at him.
Your father attempts to raise issue when König stalks towards you, his voice drowned out by the way the king fills your vision. You barely flinch when he grabs your chin, and turns your head. His skin against yours is unfamiliar and rough, it makes your skin prickle with heat as he sighs.
"You're wearing this wrong, Hummelchen," He tells you, his free hand going to tug at the end of the ribbon around your head. The black silk is tugged loose, falling delicately into König's grip. His thumb teases your lower lip, improper and entirely hidden from your father. "You want to wear this right for me, ja?"
You open your mouth to answer and he pushes his thumb between your lips, presses down against your tongue to hold you open. Your eyes dart in your father's direction, panic rising in your chest. König's eyes crease at the edges, he tips his head to watch your tongue try to work under his grip. You settle for swallowing, your lips closing around his finger as you nod your head. What else can you do in the face of a king?
"Braves Mädchen," He praises sending another prickle of heat over your skin. You feel like all your manners are just being thrown out the window, it's making your head spin. His grip loosens, his thumb sliding out from between your lips to smear the wetness against your hot cheek. Warmth pools between your legs, entirely too familiar, and entirely his fault.
König makes a twirling motion with his finger, and you don't hesitate to turn. You can hear his fingers pulling the length of ribbon between his hands, and you're glad to have your hair off your neck when he loops the ribbon around your throat. You have to tip your chin up, you have the sudden --and startlingly appealing-- thought that he could very easily choke you like this. König's fingers pull the ribbon tight, and you make a quiet noise of... protest? Approval? You make a noise, and it loosens just enough to be comfortable. He's quick to tie a neat bow, the tails of it hanging on either side of your spine. You touch your fingers to the silk. Like a collar.
König's fingers linger on your neck, and you tilt your head to afford him space to touch. Each brush of his skin makes your heart race, this monster of a man is so gentle with you. As if you were some treasure he could hardly afford. He curls over you, one of his hands sliding down your arm. He grips your wrist tight, and raises it to his lips. You turn your head to watch him, his eyes are dark when he catches you staring. His teeth flash dangerously in the light where they scrape against your pulse. Not so gentle then.
"You will accompany me to the next party," He leaves no room for argument in his command, states it like a fact predetermined by God, "We'll announce our engagement there."
"Your what?" You father asks behind König, aghast at the breach in conduct. You hardly notice it, entranced by the way he presses his cheek into your palm.
"Kay," You breathe for him. He's just like one of the heroes from your penny novels, better for being real. You wonder if he's ever killed anyone, he'd look good with a little blood on him.
2K notes · View notes
nicoliine · 3 months
Text
When Charlie found out that she is now a big sister.
☆彡 Your lover is an idiot; he can be a cute one or an annoying one, never in between, and right now you wonder which one he is as you are in the middle of one of their idiocies.
Tumblr media
☆ Reader is g/n.
☆ Warnings: mild swearing? just Angel being Angel. Kinda crack, Charlie cries and it's all your fault.
No proofread.
 
Tumblr media
 
You could ask anyone in and out of the hotel and get the same answer. Every. Single. Time.
Who is the biggest supporter of you and Lucifer's relationship? Charlie Morningstar.
 
Not that there was much competition; truth be told, she was the only one who cared enough about your relationship, always asking how your dates were going and if her father was treating you right.
And of course, Angel, who was suspiciously very interested in your partner, but you weren't planning on answering his questions, you prefer to keep his dick size to yourself.
 
That is why you find it unnecessary, so weird, to have the whole hotel's residents in the lobby waiting for the so-important announcement that Lucifer wanted to make; you love him? Yes, you will always be by his side? Definitely. Now, does that mean you want to? Right now, you are not sure.
Right before everyone's eyes, you stand beside your lover, who looked so excited and you could swear was about to jump in joy. Your energy doesn't match his, and you only give Charlie a small smile every now and then to let her know everything is alright.
He cleared his throat. "Now, you may wonder why we reunited you here today," he said, his voice denoting mistery. That made you chuckle. He is such a showman. "My love and I have big news!"
 
"We're having a baby!" He said it with one of the biggest smiles you had seen on his face.
 
"What!?"
"I'm having A BABY BROTHER!?"
 
"Well, not exactly," you interrupted before anyone else could speak or Lucifer started his theatrics again. "I think the appropriate word is "babies."  The comments started again.
 
"Damn, I knew that dick was good," Angel said.
 
☆◦ •◦☆
For someone who loves you so much and could kiss the ground you walk on, Lucifer was hard to convince to go on a walk with you. He surrenders the moment you say you are, in fact, going on with or without him, following after you.
You could see in his face that he was not having the time of his life. You remember the first time he stepped on the hotel, doing his best to not call it shit right there, and the streets in Pentagram City were not different from that; in fact, it was worse.
You just couldn't help it. It was nice to go on a walk around the streets; it was something you always enjoyed. Your lover's presence scaring away every soul who looked in your direction was just a treat.
 
When you suddenly stopped, Lucifer, who was following a step behind you, called your name with curiosity.
 
You couldn't find many animals in hell—well, not in the pride ring—but when a hellborn brings an animal, it is common for it to be the pet of someone. That's why you're now standing there, surprised to see at least five baby ducks on the side of the walk, running around.
"Look at those cute ones!" Your lover exclaims besides you with a babyish voice, as he kneels to take one of the ducks on his hand. "Darling, look! Is so precious!" You smiled, the image before you so breathtaking; you followed his actions, now rubbing one of the little ones head with your finger.
You counted six ducks; they seemed to be no more than three days old. Looking around, you tried to get a glimpse of the ducks mother, but it seemed like they were all by themselves; it nearly broke your heart.
"Darling! We can't just leave them here!" You turn your head to look at Lucifer, who was trying to hold all of the ducks in his arms; it was actually cute.
 
☆◦ •◦☆
To see the King of Hell walking around the hotel with six ducks and one Niffty following him as if he were a mama duck was something nobody expected, but they seemed to be getting used to the idea.
Husk mentioned he is, in fact, the mama duck, and you were the father.
What really took you off guard was to see Charlie resting her head on Vaggie's shoulder, crying over the baby brother you guys allegedly made her think of.
Tumblr media
Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞
1K notes · View notes
gureumz · 8 months
Text
wide open
rating: explicit
member: heeseung
premise: forced to marry a dictator king of a nearby kingdom, you're advised to shut up and take whatever king heeseung gives you and give him everything you have in return. in truth, you'd rather kill yourself than be married to this monster, but he has a way of changing people's minds
notes: fem!reader, dom!heeseung, royalty au, very slight angst, marriage of convenience/forced marriage, hate-ish sex, breeding, mentions of impregnation, use of pet names, unprotected sex, strangers to sort-of-lovers, mentions and descriptions of death and injury, lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: sixth and final entry for my 1k follower special! this is the end for my two-month 1k event! i'm so thankful for the love this received and i'm excited to start my new series/anthology! i can't wait to write your other requests as well and bring you more stories you can enjoy!
Tumblr media
it's making your stomach churn.
the way your father looks at you right now, as if he's sorry but not really. apologetic only because shouting in delight would hardly seem appropriate at a time like this.
you can practically see the sparkle in the East king's eyes.
"the decree says so," your father says with a sigh like he regrets to inform you of such news. you bite down on your tongue to keep yourself from flinging the pewter cup filled with wine in front of you at him.
"the decree can say one thing but we can do exactly the opposite of it," you challenge, balling your fists in your lap. your father turns to you sharply.
"and then what, my love?" your father coos condescendingly. "race to see which one of our heads rolls off the gallows first when the new king of the West chops them off?"
you stare at your father, clad in his deep velvet garb, the lines on his forehead pronounced in the flickering firelight in his solar. you feel your whole face stiffen as you stare back at the spitting image of yourself, the exact source of the flame raging within you. you love your father and you know him. know him enough that it's no use arguing with him now. he would fling whatever words you had right back at you with double the force.
"you're lucky he didn't snatch you in the dead of night once he proclaimed victory," your father presses on. "you're lucky he's being diplomatic about it, issuing decrees so that all the four kingdoms are bonded legally to his whims."
"it hardly feels lucky being the sole maiden of royal blood fit enough to wed him," you spit back, turning away.
you hear your father lets out a breath and you can feel him walk away towards the large window that adorns the north side of his solar. you watch as he gazes out the glass panes, his back to you.
"he's a strapping young man, a talented general as he's proven, and truly the royal seed of his father before him," your father says, something unfamiliar in his voice. he turns back to you and you see, for the first time, the fear in his eyes.
"he turned on his own father, just as his father did with his father, took over that poor dead man's kingdom, and waged a war against his neighbors."
your father's voice trembles now.
"refusal would not only mean death, my rose," your father points out quietly, slipping in the endearment he so often used with you since you were a child.
"he would make sure you wished you were dead," he warns.
you swallow, letting his words sink in.
you think back on the past year, the months of hiding, the weeks spent banged up in the highest tower of your castle, the days of weeping as you waited for your father to come back, the minutes of terror as you were told the West king had emerged triumphant.
the second you saw your father, the Almighty Blessed King of the East, staggering through the palace gates, bloodied and broken.
that wretched tyrant from the West almost took your father away from you. giving yourself to him willingly hardly seems like the right move. but not doing so would mean a fate worse than death.
"is he really that terrible?" you ask, almost in a whisper.
your father walks up to where you're seated at his dining table. he reaches down and takes your hands in his calloused, war-scarred ones.
"i couldn't give you an answer to that if i tried," he explains. "i surrendered before i could get the chance to meet him."
"then how are you so ready to give away your only daughter, your only reminder of the woman you loved?" you implore, looking desperately into your father's eyes.
he shakes his head.
"this is how i want to remember you before you're whisked away into that cruel man's arms," your father says tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"feisty, with the zeal only your mother could pass on to you."
your eyes sting with tears at hearing your father mention his late queen.
your own mother feels like someone from a dream to you. she was there one moment and gone the next. much like yourself.
you let yourself cry silently, rising to let your father hold you in his arms.
---
the trip from the East to the West typically took a little over two weeks if no hiccups are encountered along the way. but you realized, merely two days in, that this whole marriage was cursed from the beginning.
it's as if the whole world conspired against this union, and you would have been grateful for it, but after days of running into problems (thieves and hunters and sudden thunderstorms and a pack of wild boars), the only thing you wanted was to be sheltered inside a warm castle room with a cup of spiced wine on your bedside.
so unbridled was your happiness when you heard a sudden shout from outside your carriage announcing your arrival at the gates of the West Kingdom castle. your two ladies-in-waiting riding with you had equally relieved faces, your hands immediately reaching out to grasp theirs.
"we're here, your grace," the younger of the two, yuna, whispers excitedly.
olivia, the older and more cynical one, swats at yuna's arm.
"don't sound so happy," olivia berates. "this is a dictator's castle we're entering."
yuna shrinks back in her seat and you reach over to clasp her hand reassuringly.
"i'm the only one fit enough to marry him," you remind. "he should know better than to lay a single finger on me."
olivia eyes you worriedly while yuna nods in agreement.
"i'll be alright," you say. whether it's to them or to yourself, you're not entirely sure.
the entirety of your royal party comes to a halt after what you felt was an hour's worth of treading on a steep incline and only then do you allow yourself to peek through the curtains of your carriage.
you gasp as you see the fog all around. you're aware that the West was the mountainous region of the four kingdoms but seeing the clouds form beneath the castle grounds made your stomach twist uncomfortably.
"let's hope he doesn't throw me down the ravine," you mutter quietly. olivia and yuna exchange looks before giggling quietly.
you alight from your carriage a few more minutes later, the sudden light nearly blinding you. the sun is covered in dark clouds but the lack of any greenery to shield your field of view has you squinting to see in front of you.
"good morrow, your grace," a voice greets. you turn and see a smartly-dressed man approach, bowing deeply. he's adorned in the West king's court colors and it's then you notice the pin affixed on his chest.
"i'm lord jake, the royal chamberlain," he adds, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your skin. he straightens up and gestures behind him.
your eyes follow where he's pointing and you see a grand staircase leading up to the heavy wooden doors at the entrance to the castle.
"let me assist you to the throne room," jake offers, holding out his arm to you. you take it, fixing a firm grip on his bicep.
"the king is waiting," he adds.
---
you let yourself be pulled through the towering hallways, resisting the urge to gape at the lavishly adorned walls. portraits of Western monarchs, legendary shields and swords owned by said monarchs, heavy purple drapery. jake seems to understand, walking at a pace that hardly indicates that you're in any rush.
you turn behind you to see olivia and yuna following dutifully, your other ladies and servants following close behind, flanked by guards both from your party and from the West King's.
you turn back ahead of you, catching sight of the heavy doors to what you can only guess is the throne room.
"if i may speak freely, your grace." jake turns to you slightly. you return his gaze and nod.
"of course," you say.
"you need not be nervous," jake reassures. "i know of the tales you might have heard about our king. but i've been a companion of his since we were boys. he does not hurt those who are not deserving to be hurt."
you remain silent for a few seconds as you continue to approach the throne room. after a while, you respond to jake.
"i appreciate the words of comfort, my lord," you begin. "but what indication do you have that i'm nervous?"
jake smiles warmly at you just as you reach the doors.
"you've been squeezing my arm since you've arrived, your grace," jake points out.
a pause. your face breaks out into a smile and jake mirrors your expression, both of you allowing yourselves a moment to laugh.
the guards by the throne room doors heave them open and you stand, stiff but adorning your face with a look of resolve. jake pulls his arm away and steps in front of you. just as the doors fully open, jake bows to the throne and then to you.
"my most revered King of the West, this is Princess _________ of the East and her royal household," jake announces in a booming voice that startles you slightly.
"princess," jake continues, turning to you once more.
"i present to you, the Most Royal King of the West, King Heeseung,."
---
everything was a blur after that.
you do, however, remember the silver shock of hair atop the king's head. the deep purple of his doublet. the tight black breeches and black boots laced up around his ankles.
you could see King Heeseung's lips remain unmoving as you curtsied deeply in front of him. you remember the feeling of fear, humiliation, and embarrassment at having to bow in front of a cruel tyrant.
you remember the hint of a smile grace his mouth as you straighten up. you remember the sweat gathering on your palms.
you remember muffled words being exchanged between the king and jake. you couldn't make out what they were saying with the blood rushing in your ears. you remember curtsying one more time before jake takes your hand and leads you and your people out of the throne room.
now, hours later, seated in front of a mirror in an airy room somewhere on the north wing of the castle, you remember to breathe, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding.
"your grace, are you alright?" olivia asks from behind you, her hand pausing mid-brush as she gathers your hair in her other hand.
you meet her eyes through the mirror and nod.
"yes," you answer. "just a little...tired."
"i would assume so," yuna speaks up from the other side of the room, her slender figure bent over the numerous chests containing your belongings.
"i asked and it turns out we traveled close to a month," yuna rambles. "a month! who takes a month to get from the East to the West?"
you smile at yuna's shrill voice, a comfort from the eerie silence that seems to surround the castle.
"how are you two liking it here so far?" you ask, addressing your two ladies. a palpable pause comes over the room as you wait for their response.
"it's...alright," olivia begins. "better than i expected. i pictured brutes and barbarians to litter the halls but that's a misjudgment on my part, your grace."
"everyone seems kind enough," yuna chimes in. "the king barely said a word so i'm not sure how to feel about him yet."
"better to hold your tongue when speaking of the King of the West, child," you lightly berate. "we don't know who's listening."
olivia and yuna both nod in understanding.
a knock from the door to your room interrupts your discussion.
"come in," you call out. you turn to see another one of your ladies poke their head in before straightening up and bowing.
"your grace," jen, a sprightly lady-in-waiting of yours addresses you.
"i've been informed that the king asks for your presence in his study," jen relays, hands folded in front of her.
time seems to stop as you hear these words. you feel olivia grip your shoulder and you hear a clatter of something as yuna drops it. jen avoids your eyes as the four of you soak in her words.
"well," you say after a moment. "i better make haste, then.
you meet olivia's eyes through the mirror once more and she smiles encouragingly.
---
you ask jen to accompany you this time to give olivia and yuna time for their own personal needs. jen readily agreed, not more than five paces behind you as you make your way to where you were told the king's study is.
the castle is bathed in late afternoon light, a gentle breeze fluttering through the hallways. hardly any noise can be heard save for the occasional footsteps of servants and soft chatter from some of the rooms. your heart hammering against your chest is the only thing that fills your ears constantly.
"this is it, right?" you turn to ask jen. she nods as you two stop in front of an intricately carved door with a heavy golden stag knocker.
"you may take your leave," you tell jen.
"your grace?" jen asks, voice meek. "should i not wait for you out here?"
you shake your head. "i have a feeling neither of us knows how long the king will keep me in there."
jen opens her mouth as if to say something more but she stops, sighing. she nods and bows to you before starting down the hallway.
you turn away from jen's disappearing form, hand grasping at the stag knocker. you pound the heavy metal against the door three times before stepping back, waiting to be let in.
"enter," comes a voice from inside.
you swallow, reaching for the door handle. you give it a turn, the door easily swinging inward. you step through the gap, pressing your lips in a thin line as you anticipate what you might see.
the study is a respectable size, with bookcases adorning nearly every wall. a fireplace crackles with flames at the far left end of the room and a large desk rests in the middle of it all.
hunched over a stack of parchment is King Heeseung himself, a quill twirling lazily between his fingers.
your eyes meet and the king straightens in his seat.
"your grace—"
you pause, having both said the same thing at the same time. to your surprise, King Heeseung offers a smile. not knowing what else to do, you force an uneasy smile back.
"sit with me, my lady," he says, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. you gather your skirts and perch yourself at the very edge of the seat.
no one speaks for what feels like an eternity. the king has paused in his perusing of the parchment in front of him and you've busied yourself with staring at your hands resting on your lap.
"there will be a welcome banquet tonight," King Heeseung's voice cuts through the silence.
"to celebrate your arrival," he continues.
you dip your head low.
"you have my gratitude, your grace," you say mechanically.
King Heeseung clears his throat. "i also arranged for the wedding feast to take place a week from now."
you allow yourself to gaze upon the King of the West, your eyebrows pinching together.
the king sees your expression and pauses.
"but if you wish to either hasten or push back the ceremony, then i'll take it into consideration," King Heeseung hurriedly adds, his sharp eyes rounding into a softer form.
you realize that sitting here, eye level with the king, that he's merely a man like any other. a man who smiles and startles and laughs.
your mind flashes back to your father's beaten and bruised face. your expression falls.
"no, your grace. a week from now is fine," you concede.
a long stretch of silence follows. you avert your eyes to the window to your right, gazing at the vibrant sky painted in the colors of the sunset.
"heeseung," comes the king's voice. you turn to him, a questioning look on your face.
"you can call me heeseung," he clarifies.
your face must have been of utter confusion because the king smiles again.
"we are to be wed, are we not? i would assume that you'd prefer a much more relaxed method of addressing each other." heeseung leans back in his plush seat, awaiting a response.
"of course," you agree. "and you may address me however you wish."
"my betrothed."
the two words roll smoothly off heeseung's tongue and a strange tug pulls at your chest. you nod silently as if to grant permission.
heeseung clears his throat again, pushing himself off his chair. you rise as well but you make no move to look at his face.
you see from the corner of your eye his hand reaching out to you.
"come. the banquet should be starting soon."
you shakily place your hand in his and he gently wraps his fingers around yours.
"after you, my dear betrothed," he says, motioning towards the door.
---
it turns out, a week flies by extremely fast.
you've managed to meet all of the people of importance in heeseung's court in that time, memorizing names and faces and feasting with a number of them.
heeseung hovers around, greeting you as you go about your day but ultimately keeping his distance. you wonder if you should be doing more to prepare for your wedding but you don't dare question any of heeseung's or his council's plans.
in a blink of an eye, the week is over and you're standing in the throne room, draped in your finest garments, practically glittering from head to toe with the jewelry you've brought from home.
heeseung stands tall and regal beside you, his hair perfectly done and his royal regalia adorning his broad frame. strangely enough, his face is what you anchor on for most of the ceremony—a blur of vows and prayers and oaths and finally, a restrained brush of lips to make things official.
the feast may as well have not happened with how blurry your memory of it is. you sat at the high table, watching the festivities but not really seeing anything.
that is, until a particular loud courtier knocks over a chair, bringing down plates and utensils as collateral damage in his drunken state. the noise jars you for a moment but heeseung lays a warm hand on yours to steady you.
and now, sitting on the edge of your bed, stripped down to your undergarments by your reluctant ladies, you shiver at the thought of what your wedding night may bring.
you've heard stories from your ladies and you've been taught enough by the tutors you've had over the years. but to lay with a man such as heeseung, it chills you down to the bone. would he hurt you? would he demand things from you? perhaps kill you?
you shake your head. it would do no good for him to kill you now. you're both in dire need of heirs for your respective domains, him especially now that he's deposited himself as the supreme ruler of all the kingdoms in your land. and even without taking children into consideration, would he really drive in his image as a tyrant? slaying his wife on their wedding night?
your thoughts are dissolved when you hear a knock come from the door. a second later, heeseung walks in, his cape and gloves amiss, and so are the tightly-laced hunting boots, leaving him in his doublet and breeches, wool boots covering his feet.
he almost looks...nervous.
"my b—"
heeseung pauses, taking in a sharp breath.
"my wife."
your head spins as heeseung says these words. you can physically feel the color draining from your face. when heeseung says it like that, it makes it more real, your fate looming over you like an impregnable fortress caging you in.
"yes, your grace?" you respond, trying to sound composed amidst your anxiety.
heeseung studies you for a second before sighing. he tugs his boots off, undoing his doublet right after. he shrugs the garment off, leaving him bare from the waist up. you gasp softly, abruptly turning away.
"you need not address me like that, remember?" heeseung reminds, trudging carefully before coming to a stop in front of you.
he reaches a hand out, attempting to hold a side of your face but you flinch, your whole body lurching at the feeling of his skin against yours.
your heart pounds as you quickly realize the fault in what you just did. you peer up at heeseung, eyes shaking with fear.
you expected anger, annoyance, or even confusion.
but all you see is a pair of despondent eyes looking down at you.
"why are you afraid? why do you fear me?" heeseung asks, voice quiet, defeated.
your insides churn as you try to find the right words. in a moment, the whole ordeal comes crashing down on you, the day's events flashing in your mind, a reminder that this is your life now. you're married to a dictator for the rest of your days.
"shouldn't i be?" you reply, voice stony. "i'd be a fool to not be scared of someone who murdered their own father and waged a war against the entire world."
heeseung remains silent. he heaves a sigh, turning away from you.
"it seems as if it was a mistake to ask for your hand in marriage," heeseung says.
a flicker sparks inside you.
"you didn't ask!" you cry out, voice accusatory. you stand, pulling yourself to your full height. this outrage has sprung from nowhere, seized you fully, summoning all the anger within you.
"you commanded me here, you took me away from my family, my home! i came all the way here to marry an evil man and he suddenly decides that marrying me was a mistake?"
"i gave up everything i had to fulfill a duty i was called to, that you called me to," you continue, placing yourself right in front of heeseung.
"i need you to prove to me that all this is worth it. that i did not come here to be some poor slave to a tyrant! show me and prove me wrong that you're not just some monster that nearly killed my father!"
you feel the air knocked out of you as a pair of lips press against your own. you cry out in surprise but something snaps within you, the final branch needed to let the fire catch and spread.
heeseung is kissing you and you're kissing him, your hands clawing at any part of him you could reach. his own fingers tug at your chemise, pulling it down your shoulders until it slips off your body completely.
"you're sick, forcing yourself on your wife like this," you pant against heeseung's mouth. he undoes his breeches, letting them fall.
"my wife is free to leave if she pleases," heeseung retaliates, kicking off the last of his clothes.
both of you are stark naked now.
you stand there, breathing heavily as you look into each other's eyes.
"your wife will not leave until you've bedded her and put an heir in her womb," you seethe. "that's all she came here for, after all."
heeseung grunts lowly, attacking your lips once more. he shoves you down on the bed, caging you in easily with his firm body. he runs his hands up and down your sides, squeezing and fondling at every piece of flesh he can dig his fingers into. you moan and squirm under his touch, an ache growing between your legs.
"you'll give me as many heirs as i wish," heeseung says as he kisses his way down to your neck. he suckles on a spot just beneath your jaw and the sound of defiance that you originally wanted to let out is caught in your throat.
"of course, so they can usurp you when it's your time," you say through your teeth.
heeseung says nothing, only looks at you, his face pulled down in an angry frown.
"listen here, darling," heeseung commands, voice dipping even lower. he pulls you by your thighs to the edge of the bed, pushing your legs open.
he glances down and you stare at his face as it turns into a look of intrigue, his eyes transfixed on your core.
you're soaking wet, clenching around nothing as your husband continues to survey what's between your legs. he looks back up at you, a hand reaching over to grasp your jaw in one large hand.
"my father was a madman and so was his father before him," heeseung begins and you feel something prod at your entrance. you gasp as half of him is pushed in with a single swivel of heeseung's hips.
"maybe i'll turn out to be one too, but right now, all i did was clean up the mess he made," heeseung continues, fully burying himself inside you. your legs tremble at the painful stretch and all you want is to hide your face away in the sheets but heeseung's firm grip on your face won't let you.
"he started this war," heeseung says accusingly. he draws back, allowing you momentary relief before thrusting back in, a half cry, half moan escaping you.
"yeah, my sweet?" heeseung pauses to address you momentarily, his eyes dark and evidently hungry.
"feel good?"
he doesn't wait for an answer as he lets go of your face in favor of holding your hips tightly between his hands. heeseung sets up a ruthless pace, mouth hanging open as he watches himself slide in and out of you.
you grit your teeth and refuse to look away yourself, gazing upon the face of what might be another in a line of mad kings. your husband, half of who you are now, half of what your children will be.
the thought sickens you to your stomach.
but the delicious fill of his cock deep in you has you quivering with want, breathless with desire. if this is how good it feels to fuck a mad king, then maybe you are the perfect maiden to wed him.
well, not so much a maiden now that he's buried in you to the hilt, one of his hands grabbing at your breast.
his words 'he started this war' echo in your brain, but a shift of heeseung's hips has your eyes rolling back in your head, that thought forgotten momentarily.
"come on my sweet, look at me," heeseung pleads gently. he leans down, nearly flattening his form over your own. he continues to fuck you, thursts shallow in this new position
you hook your own arms around heeseung's neck, meeting his eyes.
"you don't fear me, do you?" heeseung asks laboriously through heavy breaths. "you never did."
you withhold an answer, leaning in to press your lips roughly against heeseung's instead. he growls low in his chest, his hips moving even faster than they already were.
you keep your mouths together, tongues lapping over every expanse of each other. a shiver runs through you as you feel the friction against your core increase, turning rougher and rougher as heeseung seems to lose himself in you.
you pull away, running your fingers through the hair on the back of heeseung's head. you tighten your grip on the strands and heeseung hisses.
"no," you finally answer. "i'm not scared of you so fuck me like you mean it."
the world seems to give out from all around you as the last words escape you, your hips pinned down painfully against the bed. your legs quiver as you feel heeseung pound into you, faster, rougher, harder. you let a sob rip out of you, your whole body seizing as your release slams down on you.
heeseung looks at you and only you, eyes wide and ravenous.
you clench around heeseung and he collapses over you, hands braced on either side of your head, his face scrunched up in pleasure as you feel him throb deep in you. you feel his thick seed warm up your walls and you gasp softly, your body finally relaxing.
you lay there, weak and unmoving, as heeseung pulls out and rolls off you. he comes to rest on one side of you, his hair tickling your shoulder. without another word, heeseung pushes himself up and retrieves his discarded breeches off the floor.
your heart sinks as you think that he's about to leave. your throat tightens, the thought of being used just like that, despite being his wife, his queen, repulsing you so badly.
but heeseung doesn't walk out the door. he loosely strings up his breeches and walks over to the vanity on the other side of the room. you failed to notice when you came in the first time the bowl of water and washcloth resting beside it.
heeseung wets the cloth, wringing it momentarily before walking back over to you. you've propped yourself on your elbows now, watching his every move.
"sit up, my sweet," heeseung implores gently, seating himself beside you.
you oblige, wincing at the slight sting between your legs as you shift into a more comfortable position. heeseung starts with your face, smoothing over your cheeks with the cloth, the cooled water bringing out a sigh of relief.
he moves to wipe at your neck, then your chest. he peers down at you, laying a gentle hand on your thigh.
"let me clean down there too," heeseung says. you nod, feeling vulnerable under his watch. you part your sore thighs, letting heeseung swipe away at the stickiness.
heeseung finishes and returns the washcloth to the bowl. he picks your chemise up on the way back to you, placing it in your hands. you wordlessly stand, pulling the thin fabric over you, overtly aware of heeseung watching you from where he sits on the bed.
you turn back to him and he's gazing up at you, expression softer than all of the other times. he reaches a hand out shakily, as if hesitant, and you take it, stepping between his parted knees.
he places his hands on our lower back as if to cradle you. before you could stop yourself, you let your hand smooth back some of his silvery locks of hair.
"he—my father—sent those decrees of war out when he realized i was on to him," heeseung mumbles.
you nod gently, signaling him to go on.
"i found out he'd been plotting this war for years right under my nose. i was brought up to command my father's army but i never knew it was for this," he continues.
"i begged him to stop but you can't reason with someone mad," heeseung says, voice shaking.
looking at him now, eyes so doe-like and piercing straight through your own, you realize that underneath what you called a tyrant, he was just a boy willing his father to do right.
"i had to end it one way or another," heeseung continues, head bowing.
you pull him to you, cradling him against your chest. you feel heeseng's arms tighten around your torso.
"but by the time i had dealt the final blow, it was too late. the decrees were sent and i had no choice but to fight the war he left me with."
your chest constricts.
"why not just take the decrees back, admit surrender?" you ask quietly. heeseung looks up at you and you're struck by how handsome he looks when he's not acting like the king he is.
soft lips, the delicate turn of his nose, fluttering eyelashes.
"i was already a kinslayer and a kingslayer. i couldn't lose everything after that," heeseung whispers, brows pinched together as if begging you to believe him.
a flurry of emotions course through you. despite this, you smile apologetically.
you bend down slightly, placing a gentle kiss on heeseung's forehead.
"i don't fear you," you whisper against his skin. you feel him deflate beneath your touch.
"but there is so much more i need to understand about you, husband."
heeseung pulls away and nods. he takes your hands in his, kissing your knuckles.
"and i'll try my hardest to make you understand. i don't expect forgiveness, just your open heart and open eyes to see who i really am."
you afford yourself another smile. you lean down once more, kissing heeseung softly.
"they're wide open, my King."
2K notes · View notes
Text
What The Heart Wants || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x Reader
Tumblr media
GIF by @aemondtargaryen divider by @firefly-graphics
Summary: This marriage was nothing but unhappiness. You always felt like you lived in the shadow of Lucy Gray. But you try to pretend, pretend that this marriage was everything you could have ever dreamed of.
Warnings: little detail of smut
Wc:
Coriolanus Snow Masterlist
Tumblr media
Your fingers play with the ends of your dress that your mother insisted you wear. In your opinion, the dress was abit too tight, short, and the neckline a tad bit lower than what was deemed appropriate for a simple get together with the President, your fiancé.
“Smile Y/n, Smile.” Your mother urges with a forced smile as you roll your eyes. The door suddenly opens as your mother and father immediately stand up. You let out a huff before standing up as well as Coriolanus Snow in all his glory walks in.
He doesn’t even spare your parents a look or you for that matter. He just sits down on the armchair beside yours with a huff. You watch him as he rolls up his sleeves, he had yet to speak. “Lovely too see you again, Evangeline, Festus, and Y/n” He politely nods.
His voice was stern, cold. “Likewise, President Snow, likewise” You mother grins widely, her tone sickly sweet. “Please, call just call me Coryo. You are to be my in-laws soon. Best to cut the formality early on,” He voices out as he leans over and pops a grape in his mouth.
Your knees were crossed as you stare down at your hands. Snow turns his head, finally looking at you. You could feel his gaze from your peripheral vision. A sudden kick to your shin made you groan out loud as your mother gives you a death glare.
Clearing your throat, you face Coriolanus. “What colour do you plan to wear for the wedding day? So you know, I can match,” He stares hard at your face, studying every detail. “White.” Is all he said before facing your parents again as he starts conversation with them on a topic you couldn’t care less about.
~
Snow had always been cold towards you from the moment the two of you started courting each other. It wasn’t a marriage for love, it was arranged. Coming from a high born family in the Capitol, disciplined to be the perfect wife, you were a perfect candidate to become First Lady.
And not to forget how close your parents and his parents were before they died. Coriolanus had changed when he came back from exile. He was no longer the sweet boy you used to remember.
He was now driven with power and authority. You never asked him questions about the details of his exile as peacekeeper during the times you would spend together. He would merely brush it off and tell you never to ask him about it again.
You were never one to listen to Capitol gossip but there were whispers going around about how Snow was in a relationship with his tribute, Lucy Gray. And that she ran away from him just before he returned back. You remember seeing the two together on camera, there always seemed to be a certain chemistry between the two that not much people paid attention to. But you.
He seemed completely closed off when you first met him after his banishment. He was always drifting in and out of reality. You had a feeling he wasn’t over Lucy Gray. No matter how much she hurt him for leaving.
“Coryo,” Your voice was gentle as you place a hand on his arm. He was out of it again. “She asked what flavour cake you wish to have,” You slowly say as his eyes were stuck to the wall behind the woman sat across from them. “Whatever flavour you want.” He shrugs. Before you could open your mouth again, he beats you to it.
“Is this really necessary? I have other important things to be doing right now.” He snaps, unfolding his sleeves as he gets ready to get up. You furrow your eyebrows at him as the woman starts to pack up the papers on the table before you stop her.
“Coryo, you told me you cleared your schedule today.” You fold your arms as he buttons up his jacket, looking at you. “I’d rather be home than here.” And with that, he doesn’t spare you another look and walks away. You watch his figure disappear as you sit back down, defeated.
“Should I continue without President Snow?” Your eyes move to the lady awkwardly sitting there. “Yes, yes you can continue,” You sigh. This was the third time Coriolanus blew these meetings off. Both of you despised the idea of getting married, especially to one another. But it had to be done. For duty.
~
“Oh you look absolutely gorgeous, my love. You’re going to be the prettiest woman Coryo has ever laid eyes on.” You scoff, downing the liquid down as you get ready to walk down the aisle. “Remember, smile!” Your mother points to her smile as you roll your eyes and link arms with your father.
The doors opened and the crowd gasp. You looked ethereal. Perfect. Doll-like. You smiled like you were taught to do and walked with such elegance and poise. Snow’s back was turned to you, but the moment he turned around, you swore you couldn’t breathe for a second.
Coriolanus’ hands were cold against your warm hands. His piercing blue eyes studied your face as words around you drown out. “You may now kiss the bride.” Coriolanus leaned in as did you and your lips touched. The kiss was gentle and didn’t last long. You could tell he was reluctant to kiss you.
He then smiled brightly, turning to face the crowd and your mother’s words come rolling in. Smile. Pretend you’re happy. You both had to act like you were infatuated with one another for the rest of the day until you arrived at Snow’s mansion. Your new home.
The moment you walked through the doors, the façade was over. Coriolanus made a beeline to his study where he slammed the door shut as you stand alone in the hallway, still in your wedding dress. Exhaustion caught up to you so your heavy footsteps led you to your shared room with him.
You were helped out of the dress by servants. The silk slip soft on your skin as you let your hair loose. It was quiet. Too quiet for yo ur liking. You sat at the end of the bed for some time, thinking about everything and anything until the door abruptly opened revealing Snow.
He paused when he saw you, almost forgetting that you two were married now and were going to be sharing the same bed from now on. He sighs before closing the door behind him.
He starts taking his jacket and long sleeve off. “Why aren’t you asleep” He voices out, his back turned to you as you watch his back muscles flex. “I’m not tired,” You said, barely a whisper as Snow turns around, his eyes trained on you. “Suit yourself,” He said before entering the bathroom.
You decided to move up the bed and lean against the backboard of the humongous bed that you and Snow will be sharing. You played with your fingers the entire time Coriolanus was in the shower.
You hear the water jets stop and he steps out, towel hanging around his hips as he has another towel drying his platinum blonde hair. He gets dressed in just boxers before making his way to the bed. He turns off his bedside light and lays on his back. You were still leaned up on the backboard.
Coriolanus then leaned over you and turned your bedside light off before sleeping on his side, back towards you. You stared at the back of his head for a while. “Coryo…” You softly say. You knew he was awake. “Coryo.” You say once again, your hand gently on his shoulder as he sigh and turns to lay on his back. “Y/n. It’s been an exhausting day. Can this possibly wait until tomorrow” He snaps.
“No.” You say in a firm tone that was abit too loud. You took yourself by surprise as Snow raises an eyebrow at you. “We’re married now.” Your tone was bitter. You were becoming just as frustrated as he was with you. A long due reciprocation.
“I’m aware.” He flatly stated, his eyes shifting away from your body to the ceiling. You sensed his unsatisfactory behaviour towards you, and you felt, a feeling that you had become very familiar with recently. Vulnerable. Coriolanus did not want you one bit. You knew that.
But you wanted to atleast pretend that you were going to spend the rest of your life with someone who loved you. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. A part of you understood that this was obviously wasn’t ideal for either parties, but you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, like you weren’t enough.
You were always hit on by other eligible males in the Capitol, but when it came to President Snow, you weren’t even remotely spared a glance. So, you decided that tonight, your honeymoon night, to pretend that there is as much passion as you needed to make you feel as though you were marrying the man of your dreams.
“Look at me.” You demanded, watching as Coriolanus beside you slowly tore his eyes away from the ceiling to bore into your face. “Coryo,” You began, moving from the backboard to get closer to him. You leant into him, foreheads touching. You could feel his breathing stagger, his breath began to tremble as if he was straining tears.
"Please," Your grabbed his face desperately, almost beginning to start sobbing yourself, as if your bodies being this close to one another transformed them into one big, contagious product of unfairness and agony—indulging in one another helplessly.
"Please, Coryo, pretend I'm her," you never once thought in your life you would have to beg for a man to worship you the way he did another—before courting the President of Panem, you would have ques of eligible men at your feet—not even having to raise a finger.
"What?" He mumbled back, an unconfident whimper, his eyebrows furrowed—casting a shadow over his vacant eyes, causing his piercing blue eyes to darken.
"I never though I'd have to say this, but " You breathed out, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, "Pretend I'm her, pretend I'm Lucy Gray Baird. Even if she broke you, atleast you felt something for her." Your voice cracked as the nonchalant popular girl of Panem facade you’d spent your entire life up keeping, having Snow as a publicity accessory, had shattered in his grip.
Coriolanus didn't know what to say. He had never seen you in this state. You didn't know, but he watched you all the time through the cameras around the mansion and around Panem. Snow barely knew how to express his emotions adequately himself, let alone watching you break down.
You were in pain. As if you were swallowing back acid. "I just want to feel loved," You trembled. This was all so new to you, expressing your feelings, confiding to someone. "Even if it takes you having to think about someone else to make me feel like it.l And so, Snow silently agreed.
He took the invitation of being allowed to think about Lucy Gray in his embrace if it made you feel better. Selfish to an extent, but technically, what you wanted from him was equally so. As long as he appreciated your body as if it were a relic, to make her feel something, he'd be able to fantasise about the one thing he'd usually feel guilty about thinking. Lucy Gray crushed his heart. His soul.
Yet he couldn't stop thinking about the girl who betrayed her. And so, you mollified into him as he embraces your frame, kissing you the same way he'd been musing about doing so with Lucy, if he were to ever get the chance again.
Both your tears were the supplement of real passion, the dampness on your faces resembling sweat as tears fell between each aggrieved, desperate kiss.
More desperate, more intimate. You knew what Coriolanus wanted, and you gave in. You allowed him to see Lucy Gray through your eyes. And although they were a completely different colour, Snow swore he saw her eyes gazing back at him for a millisecond; and that was motivating enough.
Now you were both in pieces, too bad puzzles aren't taught how to piece themselves back together.
1K notes · View notes
dark-fics-4-you · 6 months
Text
Number One Fan ch. III
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
dark!Stepbro!Rafe x f!Reader x JJ Maybank
Warnings: noncon/dubcon, smut, incest relationship (step-siblings), f!recieving oral, fingering, drugging, alcohol, gaslighting, manipulation, jealousy, controlling behavior
Rafe’s jealousy over your budding flirtationship with JJ becomes competitive, and Rafe can’t stop himself from trying to get closer to you
You were completely and utterly stumped.
Despite searching every drawer, your laundry basket, each nook and cranny of your room AND tearing through Sarah’s room, you couldn’t find the underwear you were looking for.
Why did you have to realize your favorite pink silk panties were missing today of all days??
Glancing at your phone, you saw a new text from JJ, ‘i’ve been thinking about you all day y/n, can’t wait for tn ;)’
A smile tugged at your lips, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as JJ’s face entered your mind and you typed out a reply. Although you hadn’t realized it at first, your friend had so much more to him than just his goofy exterior.
JJ understood what it was like to have a tough childhood and a deadbeat Dad, something you had been all too familiar with before you mom finally left your father and eventually found Ward Cameron.
In a lot of ways, you felt like you could be completely yourself around JJ, which was difficult when you were with other friends. He was so perceptive and sweet, although he had a teasing side that you enjoyed just as much.
This was the first time that you had felt this comfortable around another man besides Rafe. But Rafe was your brother, so of course the feelings you had for JJ were different.
And even though you usually told Rafe everything about your life, you wanted to keep JJ a secret. You knew that Rafe would disapprove, he had voiced his opinion of JJ more times than you could count, and you knew that if you told him you were dating JJ he would be mad. So you kept everything between you and JJ only.
Being around JJ felt thrilling, like you never knew what he might do next. He was flirtatious as hell, which was daunting at first, but you grew to love his compliments and innuendos, often feeling a rush whenever he made any kind of sexual joke around you.
You were still a virgin, which felt embarrassing. You had never even had a boyfriend! Despite your many attempts at finding a relationship throughout middle and high school, each one had fizzled out before starting. It had been line after line of boys giving half hearted excuses about why they couldn’t be with you, and you never really understood why every single one of your relationships always failed.
You had never given or received head, honestly you had only had a limited number of make out sessions, always getting too nervous to take it further.
You were determined to finally change that all, and JJ seemed like the perfect guy to lose your virginity to.
You two had been friends for so long, it felt natural to start dating, and even though you knew JJ wasn’t a virgin, you could tell that he liked you a lot and sex with him would be so much more than just a hook up.
You let out a frustrated sigh as you leaned over your drawers. You grabbed a short skirt and lace up corset top that seemed appropriate for the house party you were planning on throwing.
It was always a bit risky to have your friend group coming over to your place since a lot of them were Pogues, friends that you had made before you rose to Kook status, and you had never liked the Pogue vs Kook rivalry.
Despite being a regular terrorizer of the Pogues, whenever you would hang out with them, Rafe wouldn’t bother them at all. Maybe he understood how important they were to you?
Or maybe he had finally started to outgrow his high school rival bullshit.
Either way, you enjoyed the privilege of inviting them over basically whenever you wanted, a privilege that Rafe rarely awarded to Sarah when she wanted to have them over.
This fact had always puzzled you, it was really strange observing the difference in how Rafe treated you and how he treated Sarah and Wheezie. You had always chalked it up to Rafe holding childhood grudges for too long.
You pulled on the skirt you picked out, choosing a slightly less provocative pair of panties than the ones that were still missing. After you tossed the shirt u were wearing to bed in your laundry basket, you slipped the corset top over your head and tried to adjust the straps to no avail.
Already frustrated by the missing underwear, you angrily stood up, walking over to Sarah’s room to complain about you issues and ask her to lace you up, but she was now nowhere to be found. She was probably halfway to John B’s at this point, she had been spending a lot of time with him recently.
With your sister gone, you had no option but to try Rafe’s room.
You knocked on the door, announcing, “Rafe, it’s Y/N! Can you help me with something?”
You leaned closer trying to hear an answer, and when you heard nothing you decided to just walk in. Opening the door, you found the room empty, but you could hear the shower in his bathroom running and warm steam and the smell of his body wash wafted through the air.
He must not have heard me, you thought to yourself as you stepped into his bedroom, closing the door behind you.
“Hey, Rafe!” you called again as you neared his bed, taking a seat on the plush mattress.
This time you heard the water turn off, and your step brother responded, “Y/N/N?”
“Yeah, can you help me lace up my corset?” You checked you phone again, happy to see another text from JJ, this time with a photo attachment. You could hear Rafe in the other room stepping out of the shower and you bit your lip nervously before you opened the message from JJ.
He was cupping his hard cock through the straining fabric of his boxers, and his large hand almost looked small next to his thick dick. Your eyes widened, thighs unconsciously squeezing together as you took in the image before you eyes drifted to the text beneath the photo, ‘look at what you do to me baby, i’ve been stroking myself all day thinking about your pretty mouth and pussy. i need to fill you up.’
His words had your cheeks burning and you felt your panties growing damp, you wanted him so bad you felt like you were on fire.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when the door to Rafe’s bathroom opened and he stepped out, towel wrapped around his lower body, hair and chest still slick with water. Quickly closing your phone and shifting on the bed in surprise, you glanced at your brother with a sheepish grin, trying not to focus on his exposed chest.
“Um, hey could you lace this corset up for me, Rafey?” You batted your eyelashes at your older step brother, trying to ignore the wet feeling between your legs.
He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head in annoyance, but he stepped toward you anyways, motioning for you to turn around so he could reach the back of the corset.
“What’re you all dressed up for anyways?” You felt his warm hands brushing the bare skin of your back as he grabbed the laces, pulling them tight.
“I told you already, I’m throwing a party tonight, my friends are coming.” You were mad that he forgot your plans, just hoping that he wasn’t going to start a fight.
He was silent and you could feel the tension crackling in the air. Rafe tied the bow, hands falling at your waist before he spun you around.
“Is that a problem?” You asked him, challenge heavy in your voice. You really hated fighting with Rafe, because usually you had such a great relationship with him. It’s not that you wanted to cause an issue, you just didn’t see why there needed to be any issue.
Rafe sighed, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a hug, “no Y/N/N, not a problem. You can have your party.”
You hugged him back happily, mood shifting instantly at his approval. “Thanks so much Rafey! Hey, you could invite some of your football friends over!”
He mulled over your suggestion and nodded a bit, “sure.”
Your phone buzzed and when you and Rafe both turned to glance towards it, you snatched it up, anxiously hiding the screen from your step brother.
“Well, I’m gonna start getting ready for tonight,” you glanced around his room one last time before your eyes randomly settled on his laundry basket.
You noticed the familiar pink shade of the cloth sticking out slightly and you walked to the basket, bending over to grab them.
“Ha, Rafey it looks like some of my laundry ended up in your basket,” you giggled, holding up the panties for Rafe to see.
Your older brother blushed, face frozen in surprise before he nervously laughed, stammering out a joke about ‘wanting to try them on’ that just made you laugh harder.
You rolled your eyes and shook your head in amusement before waving goodbye and heading back to your room.
After closing the door, you slid off the pair of panties you thought you were going to wear and replaced them with your favorite pair, checking yourself out in the mirror a bit as you did so.
Your phone buzzed again and you opened two texts from JJ, ‘send me a picture baby please,’ followed by ‘i need to see how wet you are for me princess’
Your cheeks grew hot and you felt you a warmth between your legs. You lay back on the bed, imagining JJ on top of you as your fingers crept between your legs.
You slipped the panties off, throwing them to the ground and you brought your fingers to your clit.
Swirling your fingers around the tender cluster of nerves, you let out a small moan at the feeling. You grabbed your phone, spreading your legs before snapping a picture with your finger teasing your clit.
You send the picture and JJ opened it immediately. A few seconds passed before you saw a video from him pop up.
When you clicked the video you saw JJ’s hand wrapped around his hard cock, stroking it slowly. Your mouth watered as you imagined the feeling of him inside of you.
Posing yourself again, you snapped a picture of your perky tits. You clicked send, anxiously awaiting his next response.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rafe watched you from afar as you scanned the crowd of the party again, looking for JJ’s blond hair.
He had been checking in on you every few minutes, making sure your cup was always full and offering you lines of blow, some of which you accepted.
It wasn’t hard to tell that you were drunk already, the most recent time he had spoken with you he had noted how much you were slurring your words and the unsteady way you tried to walk over to one of your girl friends.
He knew you had been looking for JJ. After you stepped into the shower before the party, Rafe had swiped your phone, looking through your most recent messages and realizing your motivations for throwing the party tonight.
Anger bubbled in his chest at the thought of that dirty Pogue defiling his sister. JJ was scum, always had been, always would be. How could you not see it??
JJ didn’t have half the history with you that Rafe did. He had known you for so long, watched you grow up from just down the hall. You had shared moments and memories that JJ could never have. Rafe was just trying to shield you from any man that wasn’t him.
Because Rafe had seen time and time again how men reacted to you. Every room you entered, he could feel the eyes swivel to you, could practically see these men perceive you as nothing more than a piece of meat.
And it made him sick.
You were so beautiful, so incredibly sweet, and way too trusting.
You were too good for that Pogue trash, too pure. If you hooked up with JJ, who knows what he might turn you into. JJ might even turn you against him, which made him the most pissed off.
Rafe Cameron’s little sister deserved to be protected from any of the sick men out there who wanted to ruin your innocence.
But for tonight, he knew that JJ wouldn’t bother you.
He glanced over at his friend across the room who gave him a knowing nod. The rest of his team had taken care of JJ, harassing him and pushing him outside of the house. They weren’t gonna let him back in, and Rafe wasn’t going to let you leave before he got what he wanted.
The music blasted through the house, bodies crowding every available space. Rafe could still see you sitting alone on a counter near the kitchen and he decided to check in on you again.
He came up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist in a hug and you smiled up at him, “Rafey! Can you get me a refill please?”
His heart melted at the way you batted your eyelashes at him and he felt his dick grow hard at the sight of your sweet smile.
“Sure princess, anything for you,” your older brother said with a wink before grabbing your cup to fill it up.
Rafe walked to the kitchen, luckily for him, there was no one else around at the moment.
He set your cup down on the counter, pulling the baggie of powder from his pocket before pouring a good amount to the bottom of the cup. He added more ice and filled it up with the strong punch you had made.
The less you remembered of this night, the better.
Rafe had been going crazy the last few weeks. After that night that he snuck into your room and fingered you, he had been thinking about you nonstop.
About your perfect body, the way you felt tightening around his fingers, so wet and all his. Every single noise you made, every sigh and moan had been playing on a loop in his mind, and he was determined to hear more.
To Rafe’s surprise, the morning after he snuck into your room the first time and made you cum in your sleep, he found you awake early in a great mood and cooking breakfast for everyone.
You spent that day with him, paying more attention to him than you had in a while, and even though there was a small pit of guilt building in your older brother’s gut as he kept his secret from you, he also loved being your center of attention.
Three days after the first night he came to your room at night, he did it again.
You were such a heavy sleeper it would have concerned Rafe if your nature didn’t allow him those moments alone in your room.
Some nights he just came in to watch you sleep, gaze wandering over your naked curves and fantasizing about stuffing his cock into you.
He wandered if that would wake you up, or if you would be able to sleep through him slowly fucking your limp body. He daydreamed about you waking up as he pounded into you, so cock drunk and tired that you would let your big brother do anything to you.
Every morning after he made you cum in your sleep, you would wake up feeling so refreshed and you were always especially sweet to him those days.
Rafe wanted so bad for you to know that he was the one making you feel so good. That your big brother was watching out for you and would always take care of you.
The blond snapped out of his thoughts, giving your drink one last stir before heading back to where you were sitting.
Your face lit up when you saw him and you stumbled from your chair to hug him. “Thanks so much Rafey!”
“No problem, bunny, how are you feeling?” The blond sat beside you and handed you the drink.
“‘M good i just don’t know where JJ is and none of the other Pogues have seen him,” you were slurring your words, hiccuping in between syllables. Rafe knew that you were already drunk the last time he saw you, but now you were on another level. “He told me he was gonna be here.”
You took a large swig of your drink, missing the frown that grew on Rafe’s face at the mention of JJ’s name.
“Fuck that Pogue, I honestly don’t get why you’re so determined to be with that guy.” Rafe scowled with disgust.
You reared back a bit at Rafe’s words, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Rafe, JJ is my friend. And besides, even if he was anything more than that, it would still be none of your business!”
Rafe’s face grew hot with anger, temper spiking when you talked back to him. He knew you were lying to him right now, he had seen some of your messages to JJ.
And it very much was his business.
You were his little sister, he had an obligation to keep you safe, to keep you away from people that would hurt you.
Not only that, but Rafe felt betrayed by the thought of you giving yourself to anyone other than him, but especially with JJ Maybank.
Rafe’s bond with you was deeper than anyone else’s in your life.
If anyone had a right to your virginity, it was him.
“I’m just saying, I’ve heard some bad shit about that guy, he sleeps around and leaves every girl he meets broken hearted. I just don’t want that to happen to my sister.” Rafe looked at you sincerely, trying so hard to convince you.
Your eyes softened, somewhat touched by the concern from your brother, but still annoyed with him.
“I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions and taking care of myself, Rafe.”
He just snorted in response, turning away as he laughed humorously, “sure.”
You took another swig of your drink and Rafe eyed you.
“Make sure you drink that before it’s all watered down, Y/N/N.” He wanted you to drink it faster so the results would be stronger. “Also… I have a little surprise for you.”
You looked at him curiously before throwing back another large gulp of your drink, “what?”
He pulled a small baggie from his pocket and you raised an eyebrow as he poured out some of the contents onto the table and began setting up a line.
“I like how you think Rafe,” you smiled, previous argument forgotten as your brother handed you a rolled up twenty. You sipped your drink again before you leaned over the table and snorted the line.
The burn didn’t last long and you could feel the coke mingling with the alcohol already in your system. You took a couple more drinks of your punch, but the sweetness was starting to hurt your stomach. Colors began to blur together and you suddenly felt really overwhelmed by the need to lay down.
“Mm fuck Rafey, I don’t feel great.” You mumbled, leaning against the larger man to steady yourself, not really understanding why the room seemed to be rocking.
Rafe chuckled at the state you were in, knowing that you only had a little bit more time before you would just pass out. “You’re tapping out already, Y/N/N?”
“I just need… to take a little nap,” you were stumbling over your words, barely able to focus on what you were trying to say. “I’ll come back to the party after, promise. Mm k?”
Rafe’s pulse quickened at your words, an idea forming as you wobbled and stood up.
“Do you need me to walk you to your room?” He asked innocently. “Don’t want you to fall over or get sick.”
Your head was spinning, ears ringing, but you felt really weird. You just wanted to be in bed, and you told Rafe as much before you managed to stand and walked away from the activity of the living room.
He didn’t follow you, just watched you walk away with a strange look on his face.
You practically dragged yourself up the stairs to your room, sighing as you closed the door before flopping on to your bed.
Drinking wasn’t something you did all the time, but you usually were so much better at handling your alcohol and you couldn’t understand why you felt so fucked up right now.
Time felt like it was moving differently. Head swimming, you felt like even sitting up might make you nauseous. You felt so exhausted and your limbs were so heavy. The bed you were laying on however was warm and comfortable. Your eyelids began to drift close.
They jolted open however when a ray of light entered the room and the door opened and closed. You could hear the lock click faintly and you turned to look at the door.
A tall male figure stood by the door, and you couldn’t make out his features as he walked closer. You weren’t sure who had just walked in.
“JJ?” You groggily slurred, slowly lifting your back off the bed as you propped yourself up with your elbows.
He didn’t say anything, just slowly kicked his shoes off before you suddenly felt his lips on yours.
You gasped against him in surprise and you felt his weight shift onto the bed before he straddled you and deepened the kiss.
His tongue probed into your mouth and you let out a moan against his lips at the feeling. His hand slid up your thigh, feeling your soft skin before trailing to your ass and lightly squeezing, and you both moaned into each other’s mouths.
You could feel his hard cock grinding against your core, the layers of clothing doing little to conceal how large he was.
You felt dizzy with desire, body buzzing from both want and the alcohol and coke coursing through your system. You knew that you were so drunk that you shouldn’t be making any rash decisions right now, but everything JJ was doing to you felt so so good, you didn’t want him to stop.
Even though it was dark and your vision was blurry, when he pulled away you could make out his blond hair and you grinned up at him.
“Please?” You asked, pulling at your shirt helplessly, needing to be skin to skin with him.
He understood your request, helping you lean forward before he quickly unlaced the corset. His large hands felt so familiar on your skin but he quickly undid the laces before you could linger on the thought.
After he helped you out of the loosened corset, you laid back against the bed, wrapping his legs around his waist and softly humming when you felt his hands on the soft skin of your breasts.
He caressed you gently, hands massaging lightly before he drew closer and wrapped his lips around one of your hardened nipples. You gasped at the feeling as his warm, wet tongue slid over the sensitive bud. You hands reached for his back, wanting to hold onto him and he hissed against your skin as you dug your nails into him.
As his mouth nipped at one breast, his hand trailed to the other bud, pinching and twisting it. You mewled in pleasure, already feeling overwhelmed by all the sensations you were feeling. Your hand traced to his head, tugging on his hair when he made you feel especially good.
He began to trail his kisses down to your stomach and you could feel your panties growing wetter with anticipation.
His hands found their way to your inner thighs, relishing the feeling of your silky soft skin. They traced closer and closer to your core and you felt your cheeks warming up when his finger lightly traced over your panties.
They were already soaked with your juices and he pulled them to the side before ghosting his fingers along your slick folds. You bit your lip when you felt him circle your clit slowly. You rocked your hips just a little, letting out a small sigh at the feeling of friction against your clit.
“Mmm that feels good~”
He swirled his thumb around your clit lightly, teasingly as he positioned himself over you, and you whined before he shut you up with another kiss.
You sighed loudly against his lips when he slowly pushed one finger into your tight cunt. He slowly curled his finger inside you, swallowing your whimpers with his soft lips.
The pressure between your legs hurt a bit at first, but the feeling quickly gave way to pleasure as he twitched his digit inside you, thumb still circling your clit. Every sensation was heightened in your drunken state and you couldn’t help but moan in wanton pleasure, begging him for more.
When his second finger slid into your tight warmth, you tried to snap your legs shut but his strong arms held you in place, keeping your legs open as he plunged his fingers into your messy cunt. You could feel his grip on your thigh digging in to your soft skin roughly.
He repositioned himself over you again and you felt his warm tongue starting to lap at your already tender clit. You realized suddenly that you had been grinding your hips against him as he fingered you.
The blond hummed against your clit, the vibrations sending a shiver up your spine. You grabbed on to his hair again, pulling him even closer to your pussy, silently begging him to finger you deeper.
His fingers were plunging into you faster and harder now, tongue still lapping at your clit and you could feel the pleasure building to a peak between your legs.
You bit your lip, trying hopelessly to stifle your gasps and moans. Your attempts proved to be in vain when you felt yourself be pushed over the edge, the feelings of him lapping up your clit as you came forced an embarrassingly loud moan from your lips.
Legs quaking, you squeezed your eyes shut and tears fell past your lashes as you rode out your orgasm, his fingers moved slower as you came.
Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, body already sagging when exhaustion rolled over you. You came so hard it almost knocked you out immediately. It felt almost impossible to keep your eyes open.
You felt JJ slowly pull his fingers out of you, climbing over you to kiss you again and that was when your vision finally came into full focus.
It felt like slow motion as you realized the man kissing you was not JJ, but in fact Rafe. Your stomach dropped instantly, horrified that your step brother had just eaten you out until you came on his fingers.
And you had loved every second of it.
Your confusion and shock clouded your mind so much you could barely feel his lips moving against yours. Time seemed to stand still as your mind raced, trying to comprehend what was happening.
You felt limp in his arms and the last thing you remembered before your vision went black was Rafe repeating your name.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your eyes snapped open before they quickly shut again, offended by the morning light streaming through the blinds of your bedroom window.
Pain throbbed in your head and you let out a soft groan as you pressed a hand to your forehead.
You felt sore, a fact you initially attributed to the amount of alcohol you had drank, but your blood ran cold when your memories of last night began to return.
A wave of nausea hit you with a pang as you put together what you remembered. Had that really happened??
It was so sick that you could barely admit it to yourself.
Did your step brother eat you out last night?Or had it just been some twisted nightmare, something brought about by stress and frustration with your older brother.
You couldn’t imagine Rafe willingly doing any of the things that he had done to you, it simply couldn’t have happened. He was your brother, and he wouldn’t take advantage of you like that, especially when you were drunk.
It didn’t make sense, Rafe was your brother. And yeah he had made his fair share of mistakes in the past with drugs, but to think that he could be so evil as to get you drunk and then violate your body, violate your trust in him?
It just wasn’t like the sweet brother that you knew.
The more you thought it over, swallowing your bile on occasion, the more you convinced yourself that it couldn’t be true. It had to have been a nightmare.
After all, you realized, you vaguely remembered your corset being taken off but you were still in it, and it was even laced all the way up, albeit a little looser than before, but you could have drunkenly loosened them before you fell asleep. Your skirt was still on, hell even your socks were on.
Nothing at all was out of place.
And yet, you couldn’t stop the nagging feeling in the back of your brain from telling you to not let this nightmare go so easily.
It felt ridiculous, but you needed to ask Rafe.
He was the only one who could tell you the truth, and as embarrassed as you were to tell him you thought that you had had a sex dream about him, you were even more terrified of the idea that anything actually had happened between the two of you.
Rafe was your step brother, but your parents had been married for years and as you grew up, you had come to think of him as your older brother.
You loved him. You trusted him.
And the idea that he might have taken advantage of you while you were drunk out of your mind was so unimaginable it would have made you laugh if it hadn’t felt so nauseatingly real.
You managed to pull yourself out of bed, reaching through your dresser to change into comfier, less revealing clothes.
It took you several minutes to muster up the courage to knock of Rafe’s door, and when he told you to come in, you opened the door nervously before stepping in.
He was laying on his bed wearing only his pajama pants and your cheeks flushed with shame as flashes of last night played in your mind.
Your mouth felt so dry, heart beating in your chest loudly as you tried to look nonchalant. You normally would have gotten closer to him, but now you felt anxious just to be in the same room as him.
“Hey, um, how much of the party do you remember?” You stammered out.
“I remember you tapped out early and went to bed 4 hours before the party ended.” Rafe’s voice was even, blue eyes calm and casual. He sat up in bed and it took all of your nerve not to flinch away from his movement. “We all took about 6 shots each after you left.”
This answer made sense, you didn’t remember telling Rafe that you were going to bed, but maybe he had seen you heading upstairs.
Still, it didn’t all add up. Where had JJ been? Why did he not come to your room after you asked him to?
“So… you didn’t come into my room at all last night?” You held your breath, knowing that his answer might confirm what you feared.
He turned his head to look at you, eyes unreadable, “no.”
“Oh, okay,” relief washed over you and you let out a breath you had been holding since you stepped into his room.
“Why do you ask?” Your eyes met his again at his question, his eyebrows were pulled together and the look he gave you made you shiver. You were finding it really hard to look him in the eyes.
“I just thought-” you stopped yourself, licking your dry lips and clearing your throat. “I don’t know, I- I must have had a dream you came to my room last night.”
“Well I definitely didn’t, Y/N.” He paused, looking into your eyes thoughtfully. “What happened in your dream?”
Your nerves flared as he stared at you expectantly. You didn’t even want to think about that dream, much less admit to your step brother that your mind had imagined him in that way, doing those things to you, and making you feel so fucking good.
“N-nothing, you just came by to check on me a-and I was so drunk I couldn’t get up,” your lie was punctuated with a nervous laugh.
Of course it hadn’t actually happened, Rafe had never been inappropriate with you before and you knew that he couldn’t possibly have feelings for you. He was your brother, the love he felt for you was the same love you felt for him.
Right?
“That’s sweet that you dreamed about me, Y/N/N.” When he mumbled out your nickname in his familiar drawl, to your horror, you felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach, and you lightly squeezed your thighs together when you felt yourself grow wet.
You couldn’t be around him right now. The shame you felt from your sick dream was all you could think about.
Rafe was such a good older brother, he would never try to hurt you. Thinking about him doing those inappropriate things to you that felt so good conflicted your emotions.
Everything about it was just so, so wrong.
You gave some excuse about going to get breakfast before you practically ran from his room to your own.
Rafe leaned back against his bed, a smug grin spreading across his face as he picked up his phone, clicking on his private camera roll before entering his password.
He selected the most recent photo, the one he had taken last night after you passed out, staring at your pussy with your legs spread for him, clit red and swollen. Rafe’s cock throbbed as he remembered the taste of you on his lips and the lewd sounds you had made with every curve of his fingers inside you. The needy way you had begged him to touch you.
He swiped through the others, you laying back with the corset off and perfect breasts exposed, nipples hardened. He loved the way you had gasped when he licked your nipples, he wished that he could have seen your face while he had fucked you with his fingers, but he needed the room to be dark so you didn’t know it was him.
Another showed you still on your back, his hips aligned with yours, his hard dick resting on top of your pubic area, allowing him to see exactly how deep he would be able to fuck you when he finally got the right moment.
And god was he fucking ready to split you open and take your virginity.
But he couldn’t do it last night, not so soon, not when you didn’t know it was your big brother pumping into you and filling you up with his cum.
Not when you thought he was JJ.
Rafe needed you to know when he fucks you that he was the only one in the world who could take care of you, the only one who actually, truly knows you. The only person you were really supposed to be with.
No, Rafe had been patient, and he was willing to be patient again.
He was the best older brother in the world, and you were going to be his, all his.
No matter what.
1K notes · View notes
tsukii0002 · 6 days
Text
Simeon: Although, judging by these costumes, perhaps a marching band would be more appropriate.
Mc: …
Diavolo: Mc?
Mc: When I was a young boy, my father….
Simeon: Wha-
Mc: Took me into the city to see a marching band~
Diavolo: What a nice father.
Lucifer: I don't think that happened Diavolo.
Mc: *clenching their fists* He said "Son, when you grow up would you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?"
Simeon: Eeem…
Mc: He said: Will you defeat them*motivating themself* Your demons *pointing to Lucifer and the others*, and all the non-believers, the plans that they have made?!!!!
Lucifer: Mc, get down from the table.
Mc: "Because one day, I'll leave you a phantom *putting their hand on their chest* to lead you in the summer~
Barbatos: *smiling* Oh my.
Mc: *falling dramatically to their knees with tears in their eyes* TO JOIN THE BLACK PARADE!!!!!!
Lucifer: *sighing* At least they're motivated.
Simeon: *chuckling*
Barbatos: They seems to take it very seriously.
Diavolo: I knew Mc would be perfect for this role :D.
.
.
It was the first thing I thought of when I started with the event and I have not been able to get it out of my head xd
.
.
458 notes · View notes
ikaroux · 12 days
Text
How are they with their pregnant partner? Neuvillette
Synopsis: Pregnant, your husband/companion is ecstatic. But how will he take care of you during pregnancy?
Style: Cute, fluffy, female reader, NSFW.
Bonus NSFW (18+) I remind minors to avoid reading this kind of content.
Warning: May contain story spoilers for some characters.
Characters: Neuvillette.
Note: This chapter contains Fontaine story spoilers. I advise you to finish Archon's quest before starting to read.
Ps: Sorry for my long absence, I've had a lot of health problems since the start of the 2023 school year...
Part 1 Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya, Xiao, Venti, Albedo, Kazuha, Childe.
Part 2 Scaramouche, Dainsleif, Thomas.
Part 3 Dottore, Pantalone, Alhaitham.
Part 4 Cyno, Ayato.
Part 5 Tighnari.
Part 6 Capitano, Kaveh + Bonus
Part 7 Itto, Heizou, Lyney.
Tumblr media
1. The moon was lighting up the night sky when you reached the door of Neuvillette's office. Silently, you gazed at him from the doorway, waiting patiently for him to take his eyes off his work and meet yours. Knowing that he had already noted your presence, his dragon senses being far more acute than those of mortals, you found a particular charm in watching him devote himself in earnest to the last files of the day.
"It's getting late, my love. "
At these words, Neuvillette raised his reptilian-glinted eyes to you, a tender, affectionate smile lighting up his face.
"You should have waited for me at home. I get worried when you walk alone at this hour."
Dropping his pen, he stood up and walked over to join you. Arriving at your height, he leaned over to place a soft kiss on your lips.
"I know, but... there was something very important I had to tell you. And as lately you've tended to neglect your wife for your work..."
Your words floated through the air, laden with gentle rebuke and nervous anticipation. As you spoke, Neuvillette, with obvious tenderness, gently pushed a lock of your hair back behind your ear, his gesture emphasizing the closeness and deep affection he felt for you. His attention was entirely focused on you, as if he were trying to read in your eyes the importance of what you had to reveal to him.
With a gentle gesture, you took Neuvillette's hand, guiding his palm until it lay flat on your stomach. A silence fell, heavy with anticipation, as Neuvillette watched your gesture, a gleam of curiosity in his eyes. Then, slowly, a flash of understanding lit up his gaze. He sensed, through the touch of his hand, the subtle but undeniable aura of a new life beginning to form within you, the existence of a little being yet to be born. A dragon.
Your husband's heart raced as he finally realized what was growing inside you. Neuvillette, usually in control, was overcome by a wave of emotions: surprise, happiness, a touch of anxiety in the face of the unknown, but above all, a deep and unconditional love for you and for this new life you were carrying.
Without a word, his other hand joined the first, as if gently but firmly enveloping the precious treasure you now shared. His gaze, filled with infinite tenderness, lifted to yours.
In this moment of shared intimacy, words seemed superfluous, replaced by tender caresses and kisses, heralding the start of a new chapter in your lives together.
2. Neuvillette's draconic nature permeated every fiber of his being, making him extremely protective and territorial, especially where you were concerned. His perception of mortals had certainly evolved after the fall of the hydro archon, but his role as supreme judge of the Fontaine court left him little room for easy trust, especially when it came to unpredictable and often cruel human nature.
Your pregnancy only exacerbated this aspect of his personality. The prospect of becoming a father, of protecting and looking after an even more vulnerable being, amplified his protective instincts. Even when you remarked to him, perhaps hoping to mitigate this tendency or channel it in a way that seemed more appropriate...
But you soon realized that it was difficult to change the profound nature of a dragon over a thousand years old...
3. The evolution of your pregnancy revealed hitherto unknown and deeply endearing aspects of Neuvillette. This new facet manifests itself in a surprising way: a soft, soothing, purring-like sound emanates from him when he looks at you or caresses you gently. This sound, unexpected from a dragon, proved to you that he was happy and at peace in your presence…
4. Neuvillette's trust in the protection of you and your child during his extended absences was a privilege he bestowed on very few people. Clorinde and Wriothesley stood out as the pillars of this trust, each with their own role and ability to look after you. Wriothesley, despite his responsibilities anchoring him to the Meropide fortress, was a devoted protector whose friendship with Neuvillette and you never wavered.
The Melusines also held a special place in Neuvillette's esteem. Their joy and zeal in protecting you and your unborn child was not only a testament to their loyalty to Neuvillette, but also a recognition of the importance of your role by his side.
5. The relationship you forged with Furina was marked by an affection and trust that transcended the past of the former archon of Fontaine. Her daily visits became special moments, when the joy of sharing sweets and laughter brightened your day. Discussions about the baby's name, possible traits, or who he or she might most resemble, were moments of pure complicity.
The arrival of Neuvillette, which often marked the end of these afternoons of sweetness and laughter, added another dimension to the family picture. His reaction to the mess left by Furina, oscillating between severity and underlying affection, reflected his deep concern for your well-being. His ability to scold Furina without raising his voice, while reminding her of the importance of your rest, demonstrated a delicate balance between authority and tenderness. To you, this was undeniable proof that Neuvillette would be an exceptional father to your child.
6. During your pregnancy, you showed worrying symptoms of depression. With Neuvillette often absent during the day and sometimes even all night, he only became aware of your condition belatedly, when he found you in tears in the kitchen. Crouched against the cupboards, overwhelmed by deep sadness, you didn't immediately notice his return.
The sight of your distress deeply affected Neuvillette, who at first thought you'd been the victim of an assault by a local seeking revenge after being tried for his crimes by the Supreme Judge. However, he soon realized that your emotional state was largely influenced by pregnancy hormones, exacerbated by the fact that you were carrying a half-human, half-dragon child.
With a heavy heart in the face of your grief, Neuvillette has vowed to stay by your side as much as possible, adjusting his schedule to be more present by your side. He has taken steps to ensure that he can spend weekends with you, actively engaging in preparations to welcome the baby into your life. "Don't cry anymore mon amour. From now on, I'll stay by your side."
7. As night fell, it became customary for you and Neuvillette to embrace tenderly on the living-room sofa. Positioned comfortably across his legs, with one of his arms warmly embracing you, Neuvillette would take pleasure in reading aloud to you one of those sentimental novels you so cherished. Neuvillette's soft, melodious voice enveloped you in a feeling of well-being, as you gently brushed your rounded belly, lulled by the sound of his reading.
Each time you dozed off against him, he cherished these moments deeply, placing kisses on your face as he whispered sweet nothings to you. Releasing his hand from the weight of the book she was holding, he gently slid it over you until it rested gently on your rounded belly. His tender, loving gestures, as he touched your skin, seemed to awaken a response in his child, who pressed himself against your belly, as if to draw closer to the warmth of his father...
8. The last few weeks of your pregnancy proved to be particularly trying, forcing you to spend most of your time in bed, suffering from intense back pain that made any movement painful. Aware of your condition, Neuvillette chose to take a few days off work to stay by your side, ensuring your well-being and safety.
The approach of childbirth was causing him growing anxiety. The idea of a human giving birth to the child of a sovereign dragon was unprecedented, and the absence of any references or testimonials to such a situation fueled his fears about the potential risks to you and the baby. This fear, which became almost palpable as the days passed, plunged him into a state of nervousness he had never experienced before.
Neuvillette had considered going to Natlan, hoping to find information or help to assist you during the birth. However, the idea of leaving you alone for several weeks was unbearable.
9. Neuvillette, faced with the unknown of this extraordinary situation, was overwhelmed by a multitude of emotions. Deep inside him, a tenacious hope persisted, that fate would preserve you and the child from any misfortune. The very idea of losing you, of seeing you torn from him too soon, was unbearable. With each passing day, he watched over you with redoubled attention, doing everything in his power to ensure your comfort and safety, while trying to conceal his own fears so as not to add to your stress.
As you waited, every shared moment took on priceless value, every smile, every tender gesture turned into a treasure trove of memories to cherish.
10. Your delivery turned out to be an ordeal of an intensity and complexity you'd never imagined, your cries and tears breaking your husband's heart. The pain and loss of blood plunged you into a state of vulnerability you'd never experienced before, causing you to lose consciousness on several occasions.
"It's going to be okay , mon amour, you're strong and brave. You'll make it. Just a little more effort and our child will soon be here with us."
Despite the fear and anxiety, Neuvillette's presence by your side was an unwavering pillar of support. His hand clasping yours, he enveloped you in his love and encouragement, his voice soft and reassuring.
The intervention of Baizhu, Liyue's doctor recommended by the traveler, was crucial. Thanks to his expertise and professionalism, he managed the complications with remarkable efficiency. Neuvillette, using his hydro authority, played an equally vital role, treating life-threatening wounds and using his powers to stabilize your condition. The synergy of their efforts was the determining factor in your survival in this bitter struggle.
The birth of your child, despite the circumstances, marked a moment of pure happiness and relief. When you heard his first cries, a sense of peace and fulfillment came over you, allowing you to finally surrender to rest, your exhausted mind and body taking refuge in sleep.
11. Neuvillette had delicately placed your child beside you, gently brushing your sweat-dampened hair, while his free hand gently enveloped his baby in a peaceful sleep. His gaze was lost in the infinite tenderness he felt for you, a wave of happiness and pride emanating from his whole being. How could he ever make the whole universe understand the beauty he saw in you? The fullness he felt watching you and his child, so serenely asleep under his protection? How could he articulate the immense joy of this deeply human experience of being part of a family? He, the sovereign hydro dragon, was discovering a new and profound humanity, all thanks to... Thanks to your presence in his life.
Somewhere in your dreams, you could hear the gentle sound of a purr...
12. Neuvillette will embody the figure of a father with an exceptionally gentle approach to education. Firm only when necessary, his child will be just like him. With a calm, collected and sometimes distant temperament, the child will learn the essential lessons of dragon heritage from his father. This transmission will be carried out with subtlety and wisdom, enabling the child to understand not only the value, but also the responsibility of his ancestry.
NSFW bonus:
The moment Neuvillette crossed the threshold of the house, returning from a grueling day at court, he found you fast asleep on the sofa, a soft light illuminating the room and a book resting carelessly on your belly, which was getting rounder by the day. He immediately realized that you'd been up most of the night waiting for him to return. Heaving a weary sigh, he shed his coat, gloves and scarf, then carefully placed your book on the table before lifting you gently into his arms. However, the mere touch of your husband, his warmth, his breath, his presence, was enough to awaken your senses. Blinking against his chest, a sigh of contentment escaped your lips as your gaze met his, imbued with a gentleness and warmth that contrasted so sharply with the man he was when you first met him.
"Ah, there you are at last, my dragon..." A tender smile lit up his face, as he adjusted your position so you could throw your arms around his neck, your lips seeking his in a burst of love.
"I asked you not to wait up for me. You need to rest... Why are humans so stubborn?" Your laughter, light and joyful, invited him to silence as you placed another kiss on his lips, which he received happily.
This one was deeper, more languorous. You needed him. Now... The absence of your dragon weighed so heavily on you that it aroused extravagant thoughts. Neuvillette could feel it... Your growing excitement knotting your belly and moistening that secret place between your thighs...
A rumble vibrated Neuvillette's chest as he deposited you on your bed, lips still linked, tongues struggling against each other for dominance. Your husband's instincts were stronger than anything, and since his companion wanted him so much, then he'd give her anything she wanted...
Who'd have thought it? Beneath this cool, aloof facade lay a passionate lover, expert in the art of thrilling the senses. Neuvillette loved to prepare you for him, burying his face tenderly between your thighs, his tongue fervently caressing your most intimate parts, while your fingers lost themselves with delight in his hair, leading you to heights of voluptuousness.
Dragons, creatures whose mating rituals were rare and dictated solely by the heat cycles of their females, contrasted sharply with humans when it came to sexuality. This discrepancy had initially confused Neuvillette, who couldn't understand why his physical reaction was so spontaneous at the sight of you. Besides, the fact that you were already pregnant should, in theory, have tempered his ardor during this period, shouldn't it? Why, then, did his desire for you intensify at the sight of your round belly? Your condition triggered a deep instinctive response in him...
To demand you. To make you his, even if you were already carrying his offspring...
His ardent thoughts set him ablaze, making him more passionate. He wanted nothing more than to melt into you, claiming your body as his own. His tongue worked you ardently as his fingers explored your innermost recesses, seeking to make you shiver with pleasure. Your moans were a song to his ears, the sound of his name, his true name, slipping between your exquisite lips.
Her eager mouth seized your quivering clitoris, savoring it with exquisite sensuality, while her deft fingers guided you to ecstasy. Your pregnancy amplified your sensitivity, allowing your beloved to lead you with infinite tenderness to the gates of rapture. His phalanges guided you to the end of your orgasm, his mouth tenderly kissing the bulge of your belly. When he brushed his lips against your skin, it was with a gentleness and affection that contrasted with the real urges driving him.
"Darling, I need you... Please..."
Neuvillette, his heart pounding, took a deep breath to calm the ardors that consumed him, eager not to harm you or your child, even if this one was an unborn dragon.
With infinite gentleness, his hand lovingly caressed your body, his lips tracing a tender path from your belly to your breasts, which he covered with kisses and delicate sucks before moving up to your neck and finally your lips. His kiss, at first filled with tenderness, gradually became hot with passion. His teeth nibbled delicately at your bottom lip, begging for more, and when your mouth opened to offer him what he desired, his tongue tasted you with fervor, as if you were the most delicious food in this world.
When he finally unites with you, he takes great pleasure in contemplating you in your entirety. Although your state of pregnancy forces him to deviate from the postures he loves, he knows how to find ways of satisfying his devouring thirst for you. Often, with his back arched in a throbbing motion, he will watch with rapt attention the undulations of your body as his hips fall delicately against yours, eagerly taking in the soft moans that enchant his sensitive hearing. His silver hair cascaded gracefully over you, sublimating the beauty of your beloved dragon. They allowed you to tenderly draw him to you, once again uniting your lips in a passionate kiss.
Neuvillette, moved by a passionate ardor, didn't stay attached to your lips for long, the rhythm of his hips intensifying as your orgasm approached. It was so easy to read you, he thought, as your expressive features and burning moans betrayed the intoxication that overwhelmed you. With a movement tinged with lust, Neuvillette grabbed your thighs and wrapped them greedily around his hips, before rising with a confident gesture, his palms ardently kneading your plump buttocks to give your bodies a more sustained rhythm. His member, coiled deep inside you, caressed that special place that made you lose all composure... He was right: your pregnant state made you undeniably more receptive to his ardors, and certainly more inclined to claim his.
As your orgasm gripped you, your walls fervently embracing his fiery member buried inside you, a guttural growl erupted from Neuvillette's chest. Mating with a dragon could be brutal, and Neuvillette had to do everything in his power not to be overwhelmed. Without your pregnancy, he would have given in to his deepest impulses, sinking his teeth into the delicacy of your neck, his pelvis jerking wildly against yours in search of his climax. But he knew how to curb these impulses, contracting his jaw to better contain his desire, until it poured into you in a guttural roar.
Neuvillette was rarely satisfied with a single turn, and your embraces often dragged on until sleep overtook you. When exhaustion drove you into unconsciousness, Neuvillette would tenderly cleanse you, kissing your bruised flesh while murmuring words of apology to you and the being growing inside your womb. He'd allow himself time to admire you, his fingers grazing the soft nakedness of your body nestled against his. And as his hand caressed the surface of your abdomen, a light tap struck against his palm, tugging a smile from the supreme judge's lips.
"As stubborn as his mother..."
637 notes · View notes
eratosmusings · 1 month
Text
Stolen Destiny (II)
Feyd Rautha x fem!reader
Tumblr media
summary: the na-baron takes an interest in you
warnings: adults only, all characters are over 18, smut in future chapters, misogyny, dark themes, canon typical violence
word count: 1.8k
previous chapter / dividers / masterlist
Tumblr media
“...humiliating…disgusting…barbaric…”
You flinch as your father’s anger roars. Nothing you do will ever please him. 
“What do you think will be said of me? Of how I raised you?”
“You didn’t,” you want to say. Instead you apologize. Harkonnens are animals you rationalize. They were testing to see if you were prey and you had to show them you aren’t. 
“And in doing so you’ve tainted yourself.”
It’s like a slap. The cut on your hand still stings from the solution they’d scrubbed on it. It had only been a handshake. It was a show of strength. He’d understand that sentiment if there was a cock swinging between your legs. He doesn’t stay to say more, leaving you to nurse the wounds alone. 
Tumblr media
A feast is held that night. A welcome to your guests. You're squeezed into a new outfit, one you've been told your father deems more appropriate than the one you’d had chosen. It’s the first time he’s ever taken the initiative to dress you. It gives you no pleasure to recognize the dress as one of his courtesan’s.
“Your dress is lovely,” says the Princess Irulan when she sees you again after the food had been taken away and the party mills about in the Hall. She takes your arm and strolls with you between the bodies. The familiarity between you is striking. She speaks of her sisters, the planet she calls home. You tell her of your studies. It seems you share a fondness for the same authors.
It’s odd to feel her warm smile. There were few women in your life. Maids mostly, though they rotated frequently. A few of the castle’s regular entertainers when allowed. You don’t count the courtesans who keep your father company. 
“Princess,” Paul greets her with a bow, intruding on your talks of taking an excursion around the palace grounds. Those green eyes turn on you and sweep across your form. “My lady, you look stunning.” He takes your hand again and bends to kiss it while you try not to flinch. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all,” Irulan says with more kindness than deserved. “We were just making plans to visit the lake the day after tomorrow.”
The way his face lights up has your excitement plummeting. He’s eager to join. You stay as long as you can stand his conversation. It’s not long. You excuse yourself, claiming the need to check on the rest of your guests, and extract your arm from the princess’. You accept a kiss on your cheek from her before disappearing into the crowd.
You have no desire to mingle more. Whatever consequences you’ll face when your father finds out about you slipping out don’t worry you. His anger would have found something to punish you for anyways. Cool air greets you as you step into the gardens. It’s not your favorite place, but the training yard is too far in this getup. 
“It’s rude to leave your own party.”
Hair raises on your arms, but you don’t turn to the voice. “You have my apologies for my rudeness then.”
“And it is unwise to keep your back to an armed man.”
“What fun is life without a little risk, na-Baron?”
He chuckles at that. There’s quiet footsteps as he paces behind you like a panther appraising a potential meal. You keep your eyes forward. “You and the princess seem to have bonded quite quickly.” He’s been watching you.
“She is easy to be fond of.” 
Shadow swallows you as he steps behind you. Breath ruffling your hair he asks, “But Paul Atriedes is not?” He’s been watching you closely. A fingernail scraps down your bare arm. “Do you resent him for what he’s stolen from you?”
You spin.
The black void that is his smile is wide on his face. Humiliation sears your throat. How many people know of your father’s deepest shame? Feyd-Rautha seems to revel in that silent moment. Your pain brings him pleasure. 
“I must return to my guests,” you say and step around him. His hand shoots out to grab your arm, but you're prepared. You evade, pull your arms taut to your chest, and dart down the hall as his laugh taunts. The respect you built with the Harkonnens was nothing more than delusion. It doesn’t matter what teeth you bare or claws you present, any show of weakness will be exploited. 
You round a corner and nearly crash into a guard. The same one from earlier. He questions if you’re hurt, eyes darting the corridor behind you. He seems to find nothing. You agree with his warnings now. It’s best you don’t wander alone.
Tumblr media
You wake unrested. Images of blackened teeth, slicing blades, and hoarse laughter haunt you into the morning hours. You’ve made the decision to retain a personal guard. The choice in who is easy. 
You spend the day reviewing everything for your coming of age in a couple of days. Your father is supposed to do it, but he’s nowhere to be found. It’s tedious but the hours of distraction are welcome. And it gives you reason to decline Paul’s lunch invitation. It’s only when the sun is past its peak that you’re forced to hand over the remaining duties to your grumbling father. The swordmaster demands your time to refine a performance you still can’t rationalize. Who is it for?
Your father? A man who despises any display of femininity from you? The princess? In some attempt at an apology for a marriage that can now no longer be? Or House Atreides? The ones who’d stolen your destiny before you’d been a seed in your mother’s womb? This artistry certainly isn’t for the brutes of House Harkonnen.
The music halts half way through the fourth run. “Your timing is wrong,” the swordmaster says and has you begin again. 
By time he’s satisfied, your legs burn and your patience is worn thin. You can only glower at your guard, Fandral you’ve learned is his name, as he compliments the dance. “I like the story it tells,” he defends. 
“There’s not a story.” You massage the shoulder of your sword arm. The ache isn’t unwelcome, but the cause is frustrating. The time would have been better spent actually training.
“All art tells a story,” he says.
You scoff. “And what’s the story? I go crazy and start fighting air?”
“You can see it that way, but I think there’s more nuance.” He eyes the girls as you hand off the swords as if expecting one of them to run you through. “It’s the story of a girl turning into a woman.”
A laugh erupts from you. It’s a fitting story for your coming of age, at least. He tries to explain his reasoning. The symbolism of the first sword as the first menstruation, the second as the final years of youthful rebellion, and the end is the acceptance of the new role as a woman. You don’t quite believe it.
There’s no dreams of black teeth or the bite of blades that night. This nightmare is of your mother. Her face unmoving. Silent as you scream. She never moves, but she’s forever out of reach. Then she’s gone and you’re left gasping in the dark alone. 
Tumblr media
“This is beautiful,” Paul says in awe as he stares out over the lake.
It’s difficult to not let every word out of his mouth annoy you. You remind yourself he didn’t steal anything from you. His mother did. “You should see it at sunrise.”
He tears his gaze off the water. “I’d like that.” He says it so earnestly you feel you’re missing something. 
“As would I,” Irulan says. You turn your head to look at her on your otherside, but her eyes remain focused on the scenery. 
“And I,” the Harkonnen rasps in your ear.
His addition to the excursion had been as unexpected as it was unwanted. He didn’t seem the type to enjoy a day by the water. Even now, he’s at odds with the world around him. His stark white skin and ghastly black clothes unsettling out amongst the colors. You doubt he truly wants to see the beauty of first light. 
“Another day,” you say. It’s not a promise. 
You only plan to stay for an hour at most, enjoying a light lunch under your favorite tree, but Paul asks about going out on the lake. There’s only a small canoe available on such short notice, but it’s enough. Irulan has no desire to get on the water and says she’d prefer to ask Feyd-Rautha about the Spice harvesting on Arrakis. You aren’t keen on leaving her with him, but she insists and there’s guards to keep her safe.
Paul tries to play the gentleman and offers you his hand once he’s in the canoe, but he’s unsteady and nearly tips it over. You return his apologetic smile as you hear hoarse, barking laughter from the tree.
He’s inquisitive as you row out of sight. About your studies, arts you partake in, foods you enjoy. He even asks about your favorite color. You try to respond in kind, but he doesn’t leave you much time to catch your breath between answers let alone ask your own questions. It’s frustrating but you smile and bear it.
“What’s that?” 
Blinking at him confused, you follow his gaze. A few meters from the shoreline was a small marble pavilion. It’s overgrown with vines, graying from the accumulation of dirt and grime. You’ve forgotten it was here. It feels like there’s cotton in your mouth when you speak. “Just an old pavilion.”
You let him take the canoe further for a while longer, before turning it back. You don’t look at the pavilion when you pass it again. It’s a relief to come back into view of the others. The canoe floats to stop beside the small dock. Fandral is there waiting, his arm extended. But Paul stands too quickly and the canoe sways. Your hand brushes Fandral’s outstretched one for a moment, but you tilt the other way and spill into the frigid water. 
It's not deep. Once you have bearings you’re able to stand and your head breaks through the surface. You take in a deep, shuddering breath. There’s a commotion beside you. Paul’s head pops out and sprays more water in your face.
Someone’s speaking, but there's a river flowing in your ears that makes it impossible to understand. It's a difficult walk to the dock. Your dress is heavy and the water slows your steps. An arm reaches out to you and you take it to help pull yourself up. 
Feyd-Rautha stares down at you. Not with a smile. There’s no amusement on his face. There's something new in his eyes you don’t recognize. It takes Fandral’s interference to release you from the intensity of his gaze. The guard shrugs off the jacket of his uniform and drapes it around your shoulders.
Irulan frets despite your multiple assurances you’re fine. It wasn’t deep. There was no danger. You’re wet, that’s all. Paul apologizes over and over and over again. “It was an accident,” you say in hopes of appeasing his guilt. You want Paul Atreides to leave you alone.
Tumblr media
your thoughts are appreciated!
join my taglist 💕
Tumblr media
next chapter
710 notes · View notes
vivinens · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
a lover's game !
characters: neuvillette, wriothesley & navia.
summary: little things they notice about you.
warning, minor fontaine story spoilers. gender neutral reader. here's a few short drabbles, hello tumblr!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Neuvillette, while famously intrigued by human behavior, often finds himself completely fascinated with you in particular.
For all his objective understanding of worldly matters, he is still confused as to why he specifically craves your attention. It's utterly strange, really, how his eyes seem to trail after your movements and expressions with more care than he would show to others.
You smile differently, when speaking to him. He's picked up on this after numerous conversations involving you two and a third party. When speaking to Monsieur Neuvillette (he often wonders about the soft way you say his name), your tone is easy and your smile is—for lack of a more appropriate word—entrancing. But, the moment your attention turns to the third party, that smile is dimmed.
At first, he simply chalks it up to you wanting to get in his good graces. After all, he's had no shortage of humans attempting to get close to him in order to satisfy their own desires. However, even with his lackluster social skills, he can see how your behavior is different from the people trying to appeal to them for their own merit. Your flustered sentences and bright eyes were not the same as others using flattery to gain status among the court staff.
...Perhaps he should ask Navia about it. Not for the first time, he curses his own lack of social understanding.
Tumblr media
Wriothesley is not usually the kind of man who finds himself hung up on trivial details. He spends too much time working and worrying as it is; so why should he make life more complicated for himself?
There were some things he can't help but notice when it comes to you, though. It's midday when he overhears you mumbling to yourself about a new treat from Café Lucerne you'd like to try—as well as something about you having already spent all your "fun mora" for the week. You had sighed to yourself at your own respective desk all afternoon, and the sheer longing he could sense made his eye twitch.
You arrived to your work desk the next morning to see a wrapped gift box atop it. You had gasped when you opened it to reveal the outrageously expensive cake you had been craving all week. Wriothesley couldn't stay to further see your reaction, as to not raise suspicion, but he was content nonetheless.
It was when he arrived at work the next day that he realized—after seeing a steaming hot cup of coffee set on his desk beside a signed thank you note—that you're more observant than you let on. After all, he had taken great care in not letting it be known he was the one who gifted you the cake.
He takes a sip of the coffee. It was the way he likes it. Yes, you were very observant, indeed.
Tumblr media
Navia has always had a soft spot for her underlings. She remembers their birthdays, their favorite songs, and those who they would prefer to work alongside. She claims it's her duty as their boss to know such things—although, in the opinion of many, she often goes above and beyond.
However, if you were to ask any of Navia's other subordinates, they would probably say she tries to understand you best of all. You have known one another for a long time, and this friendship was something she held very dearly—especially after the passing of her father. You were a beacon of light in those times, when the world seemed against her and her father's memory.
In some ways, she wondered if she was... taking advantage. You worked hard to support her and Spina di Rosula, and earned hardly nothing in return. Pay was rocky and sometimes even scarce. What if your talents could be better used elsewhere? What if you truly did want to leave? What if—
"You're overthinking again, Navia," you sigh, and before she can even think to respond, your hand is reaching to feel her forehead. You're sat beside one another on a bench, taking a small reprieve after a day spent out and about Vasari Passage. "Hm, I'm surprised you don't have a fever. You've been acting strange all day," you say, tilting your head. "You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"
The genuine worry in your voice makes Navia's heart flutter. "No, no, nothing at all!" She exclaims with more confidence than she feels. She seems to be doing that a lot lately. "But... thank you, for worrying about me. You shouldn't have to."
You frown. "I care for you—perhaps more than you understand, Navia. You don't have to speak about it now, but if something is troubling you, I will always lend you an ear."
Sometimes, Navia finds you truly are too understanding of her emotions. Instead of responding, she nods wordlessly, lest the things she wants to say so desperately clog her throat, and reaches to rest her hand against yours. You don't pull away, and the loud hammering of Navia's heart continues in her chest. It does not stop for a long while.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
chososdiscordkitten · 1 month
Text
Lord Choso Kamo.
Tumblr media
Synopsis: bridgerton au- 22 yrs old nd have yet to marry, only to be set up in an arranged marriage to Choso ^-^
Pairing: Choso x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor readers appearance, Choso is 26, enemies (on one side) to lovers, reader is sharp tongued and stubborn, plotttttt booooo, just a niche fic I couldnt stop thinking about ^-^, catered for a very specific audience, if you get it- YOU GET IT.
Presented to society at seven and ten. One of the many young potential brides. 
You had asked your mother to allow you to wait a few years- focus on your studies instead of marrying you off. As lacking in presence as your father was, even he said, ‘Absolutely not.’
The first year had a handful of potential husbands. But none of them could nack your witty remarks towards them. Causing your second year to have an even less amount of suitors.
The second year, you were already deemed a spinster by your parents. Attending balls and only sitting on the sidelines in the very same gowns you've worn before- only ever seeing it as a meaningless affair. Only present to watch the other young ladies receive marriage offers before you did. 
By the time you were two and twenty, your mother and father saw you and saw a sort of disappointment. An only child- raised and trained for marriage- and refusing to let go of the silly notion of going through life unmarried. 
They blamed you- but in reality it was a mix of their inability to keep up with the fashions of the seasons. Having to re-wear dresses didn’t help you in the situation either. That and the lack of an eye-catching dowry. Seemed as though no man wanted to marry a woman with a mere four figure dowry, no matter how beautiful. 
One afternoon, as you read a book in the drawing room, you sat on the couch lazily, wearing a day dress that you deemed obsolete—dressing up for no one but the servants and your mother. 
And your mama spouting- “I do not know why you insist on filling your mind with nonsense.” Pacing back and forth a few feet from you. 
Causing you to lower your book and look at her with pursed lips. “It is not nonsense, mama,” you snipped, lining up your eyes with the words again. “It is Shakespeare.” you muttered, a small smile curling on your lips at the look on your mother’s face. 
She was about to start speaking again- only your father walked into the room with an unaccustomed smile on his lips. Almost exasperated, “And what is it you have to smile about, my lord?” your mother scoffed, sitting on the couch across from you with a sigh. 
“I have found a proper suitor for your daughter,” he said, causing your shoulders to tense and your book to lower in disbelief. 
“I am your daughter as well- father.” you scoffed. Lightly pinching the bridge of your nose and sitting up. 
The gleam that shone on your mother’s eyes was one you hoped you’d never see. “Who?” she asked, breathless and eager to see who would finally take you from their hands. 
Your father flashed his eyes to you, almost worried for the words that dared spill from his lips- “The lord Kamo.” 
You closed your eyes with a soft sigh. You had been appropriately raised to not talk back to your father, but the vein that pulsed in your mind when he said that name almost made you snap at him. 
Lord Choso Kamo. 
To others, just another lord without a bright and shiny title. Firstborn son and heir of the Kamo name, his mother gave birth to 8 more boys- all one year apart. And on the eighth, his mother died. 
His father remarried within the year, speculated with a woman he had an affair with when his mother was still alive. Giving Choso one last little brother. 
And to you, three years your senior. Choso was a playful child growing up. Chasing you around- stepping on your shoes and stealing your ribbons at the various balls you would attend with your mother. 
But somewhere around the time his father died, he became more serious. Now head of the Kamo family at a mere five and ten, he grew taller and more serious-faced. And no longer picked fun at you, nor chased you around. If anything, he ignored you. 
Even as a child, you had developed a special kind of disdain towards him. Seeing him as an ill-raised boy, blamed for his misdeeds by your mother. “But mama- he is the one who chases me!” you would defend when she would pull you away by the arm. 
And in your teen years- you would avoid him like a plague. Holding your head high as your eyes looked over at him- his eyebrows, thick and furrowed with severe eyes scanning the ballroom. 
You disliked Choso not only for his actions as a child but also because he had a dismissive aura when it came to these balls—and when it came to you now, apparently. Far too mature and busy to even hold a conversation with you now. 
Only once when you were four and ten did you approach him. Standing much taller than you at seven and ten, hands behind his back with a stern look in his eye.
Choso stood near the far wall of the ballroom, his eyes scanning the lively room for his little brothers. To make sure they did not stain his legacy even further than his father had. 
“I think you owe me a dance, my lord,” you spoke, standing beside him but not bothering to look over at him, dressed in a dark plum suit, a color he had taken a liking to at his coming of age.
His face churned in confusion, “Owe you a dance? Whatever for.” he spoke- improper and uncaring of this supposed debt you imposed onto him. 
“For stealing my ribbons and stepping on my shoes.” tilting your head slightly, so sure you were correct. 
He only scoffed, walking away from you and collecting his rowling brother. 
Choso’s coldness against you was upsetting. Not because you wanted his friendship but because of how improper and indifferent he was when it came to you. Not even bidding a goodbye before walking off.
In the third year you were on the market, you stood beside him once more—you, freshly twenty, and he, three and twenty. Thinking if no other man would have you, who was the Lord to deny you?
It was not as though he was the worst man of the bunch. A decent name, a decent fortune- and a better-looking face than most suitors. His only flaw was how standoffish he could be and how improper he was with you.
Yet still. You gave the man one last chance.
“You still owe me a dance, my Lord,” you spoke, watching the people dance at the center of the room. Choso looked over to you, quickly scanning the light pink gown you wore that evening, surely to attract a suitor.
Your gaze caught the bags below his eyes, a side effect of the late nights spent in his study with only candlelight illuminating the mess of books his late father left him. And his long hair tied back, giving you an unobstructed view of his strong jaw.
“Should you not be looking for a husband?” he spewed, looking back at the dancing crowd and lightly widening his eyes. Unable to see the youngest sibling he was watching. 
You let out an unamused laugh, “That is what I am doing, is it not?” looking over at him with a pleased expression. 
“No, you are talking to me-” he murmured. Walking off and trying to find the pink-haired sibling with a penchant for wandering off. 
After that, you swore never to speak to him again. There was a spark of hatred in your heart when you saw his stupid, serious face at the balls. And when his eyes caught on yours, you would look away, uncaring if people saw. If anything, you wanted people to see your dislike for that brinking-on beastly man. 
So when your father said that he- Lord Choso Kamo was to be your husband, you almost hemorrhaged on the spot. 
You did not speak to your father for three days and two nights. At the dinner table, you stayed silent. Picking at your food and avoidant of any conversation. And your mother held more than enough excitement for you both. Planning the flowers, the gown- all before the Lord even proposed. 
And when your father grew tired of your silence- he shouted at you to speak. 
You bowed your head, tears in your eyes—“Please,” you said in a tone of voice you had not used since you were a girl. Peering your eyes up at him, full of salt water and a weary lip. You said, “Please, do not make me marry that man, father.” 
Though your papa was generally uncaring when it came to what you felt. The way you looked at him- he saw a glimmer of his little girl in your eyes. The same little girl that would cling to his leg, scared of the strangers he would present her to. 
Your father took your hands in his- and you were so sure he would call it off. 
“I will allow you a two-week courting period.” He whispered, watching the tears spill from your eyes. “You must marry him,” he spoke your name softly. 
It wasn’t until the following day you heard your father speaking to your mother- the stoic man practically in shambles at the thought of using his only daughter as a form of paying his debts. 
Before the late Lord Kamo passed, your father owed him a substantial amount of money. A debt your father was still unsure how he would pay. And the news of Choso’s father's death washed over your papa as a wave of relief.
So when a six and twenty-year-old Lord Kamo wrote to your father- something along the lines of; ‘I have in my late father’s books that you owed him an undisclosed sum of money. I would like to discuss this face to face-’
Your father thought up a million things—selling off the silverware, the dresses, and letting go of the staff—but it didn’t amount to half as much as he owed. 
So when your father met up with the young Lord Kamo at a gentleman's club, he was far too inebriated. Drinking to fill the uncomfortability he felt with the severity Choso imbued in his words. 
“It is my understanding you have yet to marry?” your father spoke- glass half empty in his hand as he looked at the brown-haired man before him. 
Choso furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the drunk man and squinting. “I have yet to.” 
“Then the matter is settled. You may have—*hic* My daughter,” he said, thralling his arm around Choso’s shoulder with a happy smile. “She is well-read. And you have been friends since youth, have you not?” 
Choso parted his lips to speak—“Phenomenal!” your father said, “We will discuss the technicalities later,” ending the conversation and continuing to another topic. 
In Choso’s mind, he knew the impending task of finding a wife had run at him at full speed. And rather than slotting through the many carefully primped young ladies, Choso found peace in knowing if he should have to marry, let it at least be you who he does. 
The least objectionable option. Finding it revolting how the many mamas would peddle their overly young daughters to grown men. Be it you- three years his junior and knowing you far better than he would know any of them. 
And when your mother advised you that the Lord Kamo had asked to see you- you felt a pool of nerves and unease form in your tummy. Knowing that the two-week period your father had granted you, would begin the minute, he would come see you. 
Your mother mulled over what you were to wear when he would visit. Trying to find the best option- an option that would make your beauty distracting enough to ignore your sharp tongue. 
“Mama, I’ve already told you- he is not interested in marriage” you insisted- your mother ordering you to hold a dress against your body. 
“Hush up.” she insisted, causing you to sigh. 
Tossing a light pink chiffon gown onto your bed- “I have known him since I was a child- mama, he knows what I am like.” sitting onto your bed with a scoff, “A frilly gown I’ve worn before won’t change his opinion on me.” 
Your mother shouted your name- “Your father has said that he already agreed- mouthy and far too mature as you are. Lord Kamo has agreed to marry you.” she insisted. Making your mind reel at the possibility that he only agreed to vex you, knowing him.
As your ladies maid fixed your hair- looking into the mirror and thinking of your foiled plans. Plans that had been entirely derailed simply because the Lord said ‘yes’ to marrying you. 
And as you sat in the drawing room- back slouched and a bored look on your face. Your mother did not hesitate to slap your back when the footman walked in “The Lord Kamo, to see you- my lady.” he directed at you. 
Straightening your back- fixing your face as you watched the man stand at the doorway. Flowers in hand and with his hair pushed behind his ears. Unfurrowed eyebrows and nervous eyes looking at you. 
You rose to your feet, “My lord.” you exasperated, lowering in a half-assed curtsey as he slightly bowed. 
“My lady.” he spoke- almost unsure and far too formal for the relationship you had with him. 
You clenched your jaw looking at him- your mother leaning to your ear, “Be kind, and smile.” she instructed through clenched teeth. Sitting at a tea table a few paces from the couch you were sitting on. 
Choso took a step towards you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he mumbled- yet another thing you disliked about him. He spoke unclear words far too often. 
You plastered a false smile on your lips, reaching for them- “Thank you. My lord.” dropping the smile and holding them out for your ladies’ maid to take them. Thinking of a snide comment, only laughing softly to yourself at- ‘make sure to leave them in the sun till next week.’ you said in your mind. 
“Did I say something funny?” he asked- watching you sit onto the couch and following you. 
You eased your expression. “No, unfortunately you didn’t.” you spit. Hearing a slight cough come from your mother, reminding you to be kind.
Choso parted his lips to speak- “May I ask you why you agreed to marry me?” you interrupted- a hushed tone so your mother would not scold you. Eyebrows stern and determined to know his reasonings. 
The Lord squinted his eyes slightly with a furrowed brow. “I have yet to ask for your hand?” he queried- as though you had the answers that you, yourself, were looking for. 
“My father says you agreed to marry me in two weeks.” deadpan face looking at his confused one. 
The corner of the Lord’s lip curled, “Your father was drunk when he struck that deal.” 
You rolled your eyes and looked off to the side. “So you do not wish to marry me.” you stated rather than asked. So eager to hear the words- ‘I do not want to marry you.’
“I did not say that.” 
You almost groaned in frustration at his words. Only your twitchy eye went unnoticed by the man sitting before you. “Then?” you pressed, pursed lips and squinty eyes awaiting his declaration- or an excuse. 
“I am reaching the age to take a bride.” he started, bordering on a mumble that only frustrated you even more. 
“And why not take on a well-behaved child bride-”
Choso’s expression churned in a flash of disgust. “I did not choose you,” he spoke your name in a whisper. Improper as ever- not even using your family name with a simple ‘miss’ before it. 
You blinked harshly at your name callously spoken as though you were already wed. 
“Your father offered-”
“And you accepted.” 
“Because I have known you since I was a boy.” he defended, “I found marrying you to be simpler than carding through the many eligible young-” you sighed at his droning on. Giving you every excuse besides the one you wanted to hear. 
“You also said 'yes' to this union, did you not?” he asked. You looked off to the side, scoffing at his assumption. 
Intertwining your fingers together and pursing your lips, “This union is everyone’s choice but mine.” you muttered. Looking down to your hands with a frustrated look on your face. 
Choso called your name again- this time in worry. Making the vein in your temple pulse from his improper tendencies. “If you do not want to marry- I will not force you to.” 
“You do not know a thing.” you spouted, causing your mother to look up from the embroidery cloth to see why you were seething in your words. And Choso only smiled at your mother, assuring her it was okay. 
Clearing your throat- standing from the couch and urging him to do the same. “I think it’s time for you to take your leave, my lord.” You spoke- hearing your mother stand. 
“Can’t you stay for tea?” she asked- only for Choso to look at you. Mouthing a soft ‘No,’ instructing him to assure your mother that was not necessary. 
The next time Choso saw you was at a ball. You stood near a wall, a pondering look on your face, an unsipped glass of lemonade in hand, and an empty dance card on your wrist. 
Looking off as though you were physically here- but your mind was elsewhere. 
The Lord came up to you for the first time since he was seven. Calling your name in a mutter and pulling you from your thoughts. 
“Yes, my lord?” you spoke- refusing to turn and look at him. 
He inhaled sharply, “Have you thought more on-”
“It is all I think about these days.” 
Choso tried thinking back on the lessons he was taught as a boy- how to approach a lady and how to ask for a dance. 
He parted his lips to speak- “What is it you want, my lord?” you asked, interrupting his attempts to communicate with your tone bordered on frustration. 
“I owe you a dance, do I not,” speaking your name with the same thoughtlessness as he always held. You sighed, placing your glass on the table beside you. 
Looking over at him with a peaked brow, “Why is it now you want to dance? Not once have you ever shown interest before.” 
He scoffed softly, “I aim to court you- dancing is part of it, is it not?”
You let out an unamused laugh, “If dancing meant courting- you declined that proposition long ago, my lord.” taking a sarcastic tone, holding your head high as he furrowed his eyebrows. 
Unknowing what you were talking about, Choso squinted his eyes. “Why do you speak to me in that tone?” he looked over at you, trying to recall if he had insulted you or even done something to warrant your curt behavior. 
You sighed harshly, bored of this conversation- and irritated that Choso had the guts to ask that. “My mother is summoning me-” Trying to find an escape from this conversation; you chose to lie. 
Turning to face him, pursed lips and your jaw slightly clenched, “Good evening, my lord.” you spat, his eyes widening and scoffing. 
As you turned to walk away, he called your name- loud enough for more than enough people to turn their heads to the source. Seeing you still in Choso's presence, his face troubled as he looked at the back of your head. 
The control you had in not turning around and snapping at the man, was control you weren’t sure you held. You only breathed in a small breath and continued your steps, hearing the Lord step behind you as you walked out of the ballroom. 
Nodding your head 'no' as you stepped onto the terrace- breathing in the crisp evening air and clenching your jaw. Your name was spoken again, in the same uncaring tone he always held when he referred to you. 
“If I have done something to offend you-” You turned around swiftly, angered by the face before you and your eye threatening to twitch. 
“If? If you have done something?” you scoffed, finding it unbelievable that he didn’t even know what he did wrong. Choso turned his head, awaiting your explanation as your gloved hands balled into fists at your side.  
Choso parted his lips to speak, your name falling from his lips carelessly, making you even more upset. “Please, tell me if I have done something wrong.” The urgency in his tone fell on deaf ears. 
“I do not wish to speak of this any longer-” you muttered, “My Lord.” you gritted, a breath leaving his lips at the name. 
“Why do you insist on calling me that?” he lightly grimaced, cringing every time you’ve ever referred to him as that. 
The control you held slipping from the satin covering your fingers. “Because it is polite—something you do not harbor,” you spat, shivering at the crisp breeze brushing against your arms. 
Choso furrowed his eyebrows- even more confused than before at your proclamation. You scoffed- “Do not pretend you are unaware of what I speak of.” your chest puffing and slightly spilling from the top of your gown. 
You abandoned the topic, knowing he would only look at you with the same stupid expression in wait for you to further elaborate. 
Turning away from Choso and placing your hands on the balcony’s edge, sighing softly before a smile crept onto your lips. 
“We have yet to marry, and we are arguing already,” you whispered, looking out into the gardens with a pummeling headache. 
Choso sighed, his face troubled. “I’ve already told you—if this marriage is not of your will, I shall decline your father.” 
You breathed a sharp exhale from your nose at his claim, knowing it was not up to you nor him. It was a duty your own father entrusted to you. 
“It is of my will.” you muttered, hearing his footsteps creep beside you. Looking out to the same view as you. 
“Then why is it you hold such disdain for me?” he whispered, looking to the side of your face in worry. 
Dropping the veil of anger to answer his question in earnest. “Do you remember when we were children? And you would chase me around the Easter gardens?” you asked, taking a softer tone and looking to the very same gardens below you. 
“Or when you would step on my freshly polished shoes- or steal the ribbons of my hair?” Looking back to him with a soft expression- watching his face churn to a pensive one. 
A small smile formed on your lips, “I was able to forgive all of that- but when I was ten and four, you declined my offer for a dance.” your mouth in taught purse, watching his lips part to defend himself. 
“And when I was twenty, I offered again.” the corner of your lip curling in disbelief, “And you declined- again.” 
“This is all because I refused to dance with you?” Choso asked in a half laugh. 
You huffed a smile, “No, not because you declined my offers for dancing, my lord.” clenching your teeth and the seething below your skin burning in your cheeks. “Because after all of that- you somehow managed to foil my plans for the future.” 
Sighing in a straggled breath, “After all of that- you agreed to marry me. And go on as though we have been friends since childhood.” You nodded in disappointment. 
“But we have been-” Choso stated in almost a question. 
“You bullied me in childhood. We are not friends.” You spat in a whisper, turning and taking a step away. Only for his hand to grasp onto your clothed forearm, holding you back with an amused expression. 
“Bullied?” he asked in a surprised tone. “If anyone was a bully- it was you,” speaking your name and looking at your angered expression. 
Choso loosened his grip on your arm, “Do you not recall? When you would pull my ears or push me?” he smiled, remembering the memories he held fondly. 
“Or when I would call you 'my lady'- and you would snap at me? Tell me that was not your name- and that you were no lady?” he scoffed with an earnest smile. You furrowed your eyebrows, barely able to remember the memory he was referring to. 
“If I am so horrible- why did you agree to marry me?” you whispered, the smile on his face only growing in the slightest. 
His cheeks slightly flushed and daring to inch closer to you. “I do not find you horrible,” the tone he took when saying your name made your own cheeks threaten to warm. “I never have.” he smiled. 
Watching your tight expression soften, you parted your lips slightly. Darting your eyes back to the ballroom and seeing a pair of debutants whispering whilst looking through the doors. 
You cleared your throat, taking a step back and exhaling a shaky breath. Choso furrowed his eyebrows and looked over to where you had looked, “A dance, my lady?” he offered his hand out to you. 
You took it with a sigh, what you interpreted as anger filling your cheeks. Allowing him to guide you back to the ballroom. 
A hand on your waist and other holding yours, taking precise steps as your eyes avoided his. Thinking of a way to break the tension without stuttering. “If you insist on marrying me- I ask we speak of agreements beforehand,” you expressed, avoiding the gaze Choso held on you. 
His hand guiding you into a waltz, “Agreements?” he murmured, snapping your eyes back to him and nodding. 
“Yes, agreements. Discuss what shall happen if we marry.” you reiterated, keeping a stern brow and ignoring the wisp of a smug expression on his face. 
Choso lightly smiled, “Very well.” he murmured again, making you nod your head no with heat rising in your cheeks. 
“Bring freesias for my mother- and stop mumbling.” you seethed, watching his smile deepening as he heard your demands. 
-
(a.n) sooo niche and I overindulged I know, but I don't CARE.
Tumblr media
413 notes · View notes
fxrmuladaydreams · 3 months
Text
the boss’s daughter (gr63)
Tumblr media
george russell x wolff!reader
summary: you become attached to a certain british driver, but he panics when he thinks about the repercussions of your relationship
notes: i’ve only ever written george one other time and it didn’t get all that much love, but that could’ve been bc the tags weren’t working so we’ll see how this goes. i hate having to do math with ages when it comes to fics so we’re all going to pretend that toto and susie are older than they are so they can have a daughter who is age appropriate for george 👍
Your father had tried his hardest, for years, to get you interested in racing. Your parents were Susie and Toto Wolff for god’s sake, it didn’t make any sense to him why you were so disinterested in cars.
Susie tried to convince him it was okay. “So she’s not going to be a Formula One driver, she’ll find something else. Something she enjoys.”
Little did they know that something was going to end up a someone.
Some might’ve called it lazy, your gift to your father on father’s day being the promise you’d attend a race weekend with him. But you would call it financially responsible.
You mother made you keep your promise, even after gifting him something he’d actually use.
“It’ll make him so happy.” She cooed at you.
And happy he was, taking you around the paddock from garage to garage, introducing you to the other team principals, even a few of the drivers. You ended your tour back at the Mercedes building, you father’s arm over your shoulder as he guided you through the crowds.
He tugs you along with him as he talks to the engineers. You’re sure it’s important, but to you it just sounds like nonsense droning on.
Your eyes wander around the garage, stopping on the two drivers standing in the corner.
You’d met Lewis before, you father adored the man. He was invited to various family gatherings and parties. He was sweet, his dog Roscoe even sweeter.
You hadn’t met George yet though. Sure, you’d seen him on the team instagram, accidentally turning himself into a meme practically every weekend.
You watch as George talks animatedly with Lewis, his hair slightly falling into his face. Lewis eventually gives George a pat on his arm, then walks away, leaving the younger driver alone.
“You haven’t taken me to meet George yet.” You tell your father once he’s finished with the engineers, softly tugging at his arm.
He pulls you over to the young British driver, who seems to stand up straighter in the presence of your father.
“George, this is my daughter, Y/n.” He introduces you.
When George’s eyes meet yours, you can’t help but drown in them. The soft green practically glitters in the sun.
“Nice to meet you.” He says, holding his hand out to you.
You take his hand in yours and shake it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
Toto looks between the two of you and very quickly notices the glint in your eyes. He also notices the way George’s lips tilt upwards in a soft smile.
“Alright, c’mon, let’s leave George to get ready.” He says, attempting to pull you away from George.
“But I want to see the car.” You keep yourself planted in front of George.
“You can go see Lewis’ car. I’m sure George wants some time alone before the race.”
“I can show her. I’m not busy.” George says, shrinking slightly when Toto’s eyes meet his.
“Alright.” Toto says gruffly, making sure to follow right behind you as George leads you to his side of the garage.
George almost looks nervous as he shows you his car, pointing out different things, then showing you everything on the steering wheel. You step closer to him, your shoulder brushing against his as he points at the different buttons.
Toto lets out a breath when it’s time for George to actually get ready for the race and get in the car. He pulls you back over to where he sits with the engineers and sits you down next to him.
The race is long, but at least if you watch the screens you’ll actually be able to see the cars driving as opposed to their zooming by on the actual track.
George only makes it barely outside the podium, scoring P4 after the race. You watch as he pulls his helmet and balaclava off in frustration. His golden hair sticks out in every direction. A light sheen of sweat coats his face, and you can see the light pink imprints on his cheeks from the balaclava.
You’re able to escape your father for a moment after the race to find George talking to some of the Mercedes workers. He’s got his race suit tied around his waist and a water bottle in his hands.
“Hi George.” You say when there’s a break in their conversation.
“Hi Y/n.” He says, giving you a small smile. “I hope you enjoyed your first race.”
You shrug. “It was alright. I much preferred the company before and after the race.” You tell him, letting your hand trail up and down his bicep.
He flushes under your gaze, stuttering out a quick “thank you” before he’s pulled away.
He doesn’t see you again that day, hoping that you’ll decide to attend another race sometime in the future.
You do, hoping to see the British driver again, maybe this time without your father watching over you like a hawk.
You attempt to seem more casual in the garage this week, only letting your eyes wander occasionally in search of George. He’s not hard to find, his height making him easy to see.
You catch his eye as he gets ready for the race. He gives you a soft smile, to which you reciprocate and give him a wink. His face flushes as he quickly tugs the balaclava over his head.
He doesn’t get a podium, but stays pretty high in the points. He’s slick with sweat when he gets out of his car, his hair is flattened to his head, and sticks out when he runs his hands through it.
He lets out a breath when he gets back to his driver’s room, closing the door behind him, but feels it get caught in his throat again when he sees you on his couch.
“Hey George. Good race.” You tell him.
“Th-thank you.” He stutters out. “Who let you in here?” He doesn’t sound put off or offended in his question, he’s genuinely curious as to how you found your way to his room.
“My dad is the team principal. I have access to pretty much wherever I want.” You stand up and slowly walk over to him. “Look at your hair.” You say as you softly run your fingers through the golden strands, attempting to straighten them out.
George huffs out a small laugh, not sure what to do. You’re very close to him now, practically pressed up against him. He can see the sparkles in your eyes, and can smell your sweet shampoo.
You catch his eyes wandering around, seemingly looking anywhere but at you. You use your fingers yo tilt his chin down so that he has to look at you. You smirk up at him.
“Do I make you nervous George?” You ask softly.
His cheeks flush. “No, no, I’m fine.” He gives you an unconvincing smile.
“You are actually.” You tell him as you lean towards him. You give him plenty of time to back away before pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.
The kiss is brief, teasing. George can’t quite process it’s happening before you pull away.
You give him a soft pat on his chest, the black fireproofs smooth under your hand. “See you later George.” You wink, then leave him in his driver’s room.
George can’t seem to look his boss in the eye after your encounter in his room, especially not when you seem to find him at every race, and pull him into secluded rooms or hallways with your lips attached to his.
He’s in dangerous territory, he knows that. But he can’t stop. Not when your tongue is practically down his throat, and not when he holds you in his arms in his hotel room at night. He’s grown attached to you, addicted one might even say.
He doesn’t know what this is, neither of you have put a label on it yet, but the time you’re spending together sure feels an awful lot like the time a couple would spend together.
He was equally relieved and terrified when you told him that you wanted to make your relationship public. It was in his hotel room, you were wrapped up in his arms and a blanket, playing with his hands when you told him. He was glad to hear that you were in fact dating, that his heart could stop clenching every time he was with you, wondering if it was going to be the last.
He however knew that he was not mentally or physically prepared to find out what was going to happen when Toto found out. Was he going to lose his job? His life? Both were reasonable expectations in his head.
You’d been around George long enough now to sense his unease. You sit up, slightly pulling yourself away from him. “Unless… you don’t want to…”
He can’t speak, he can’t find the right words to say, he’s seemingly paralyzed.
“Okay. I get it.” You say, getting up from his bed. “You can’t date the boss’s daughter. Obviously. It was stupid to think this could work.”
He scrambles up from the bed when he finally processes your words. His sweatpants get caught in the blanket, tugging them lower down his hips. “Y/n, wait-”
You grab your small bag you brought to his room and walk to the door. “It’s okay George. Really, I understand.” You sigh. “I had fun though.” You give him a small smile before leaving.
He gives you space for the rest of the night, hoping that he’ll be able to find you at the track the next day to talk things through. He’s surprised when he doesn’t see you anywhere. He attempts to casually ask Toto where you had gone.
Toto doesn’t think twice before answering. “She wasn’t feeling well. She took a plane back home this morning.”
He waits for you to appear again, race after race after race, hoping that you’ll come back and talk to him. He tries calling, texting, even messaging you via instagram, all of which go ignored.
He feels like he’s lost a part of himself. And he’s determined to get that back.
Toto is surprised to find George at the door to his home over the break. The poor British driver wrapped up in a coat, shivering, clutching an almost frozen looking bouquet in his hands.
“George? What are you doing?” He asks.
George takes a deep breath. “I’m here to see Y/n. We were together during the season, but I made a mistake, and now I’m here to apologize and ask her if she’ll have me. Again.”
Toto looks even more confused. “You were dating my daughter?”
George gulps. “Yes. I was. And it was amazing, and I really care about her. And I would like to keep… dating your daughter…” he trails off.
“Leave.” Toto attempts to shut the door.
“Dad?” George sees you appear behind your father. “George, what are you doing here?”
“I’m here to apologize. I shouldn’t have let you leave, and I should’ve been able to make our relationship public. I’m here to ask you for another chance.”
You brush your father out of the way, and grab onto George’s free hand, pulling him inside and closing the door behind him. His hand is freezing, and you feel just how cold his cheeks are when you softly cup his face. You don’t know if the pink blush on his face is from you or the cold.
“No. This is not happening. Absolutely not.” Toto says.
“Dad, I’m dating George. Whether you like it or not.” You turn to face him. “George is a good guy. You know that, you see him practically every weekend. And I’m going to be very upset if you kill and/or fire my boyfriend.”
Toto looks back and forth between the two of you. George with his wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and you with a pout on your lips and your eyebrows raised, as if challenging him to do something.
“Fine. You can date my daughter. But no sneaking away at races.” Then he looks directly at you. “No going into his driver’s room.”
You roll your eyes. “Fine, I won’t go into George’s driver’s room anymore.”
“Anymore?!”
You giggle as George tries to hide himself behind you.
595 notes · View notes
abbyromanoff · 3 months
Note
hi!!! is it okay to request R (18) having a crush on her professor which is Nat (either 27 or like around 30s) then Nat heard about it because of the gossips so she confronts reader abt it although reader have the upper hand defending herself yet nat was able to pin her and they kissed—thats the last time they saw each other not until they had a reunion during reader's college years
sorry if this is kinda long😭
SEE ME AFTER CLASS
Tumblr media
PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader
WORD COUNT: 781
WARNINGS: all are 18+ teacher x student relationship, professor x student relationship, kinda stalking, angst, fluff, and some heated moments yall
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
You were fucked, to say the least. You had never been called to stay after by a teacher, but here you stood, eyes shot wide, lips slightly agape as you nodded slowly to Ms. Romanoff’s request.
“You’re probably wondering why I had you stay after with me today,” You nodded once again, and she chuckled while leaning forward on her elbows, unconventionally pushing her breasts further together in your view.
“Well, you’re not in trouble, sweetheart.” She helped ease the tension, and your breath of release caused your eyes to flutter shut, your hand coming to your chest as you feared the worst.
“But, there is something I’d like to talk to you about. There seems to be a rumor lurking around the school, and with your popularity, it only took a short time to reach me.” She suddenly stood from her seemingly comfortable chair and placed herself on the edge of the desk in front of you, leaning down to place a hand on her knee as the other found your chin. While you were both of legal age, considering that you were forced to stay back in the fifth grade when your parents had to move halfway into the school year for your father's work, this was still wrong. You were a senior, she was your teacher. And even though you were near graduation with your final week approaching, you were still hefty about the consequences this action could have.
“Uhm, Ms. Romanoff,”
“Call me Nat,”
“I- I don’t exactly think that is appropriate, I don’t think any of this is appropriate.” You began to stand but were quickly forced back down with her incredible strength, and you nearly whimpered at the contact.
“Shh, baby, no one needs to know, okay? It’s just me and you in here; besides, aren’t you the one with that little crush on me?” Your eyes shot wide, your stance faltering as you failed to explain yourself.
“C’mon, all I’m asking is one little kiss before I have to see my favorite student go,”
And that’s all it was, at first. It started with a small kiss. Only once, never again. But then it came again, and her lips drew you in again and again and again. Up until your day on the podium where you thanked multiple people, her being one of them. That’s where you ended it.
When your parents waited in their car and everyone began piling out, you dragged her behind the school, crying through small pecks as you two said your goodbyes. You expected it to be your last. But then you walked into your fourth class on the second day of college, you were yet to have this class the day prior. It was fresh, the faces were all new, except the professors.
“Nat?” She turned suddenly hearing your voice, smiling widely when seeing you.
“I didn’t believe it when I saw your name on my roster, but it’s true.” She began rushing towards you, thankful for your early arrival. You put your hands on her chest to back her away, causing her to hold a confused raise of her brow.
“What is it? I know we ended things but- but I’m here, and so are you, we’re back together again.” You shook your head with a scoff, your gaze falling to the floor before she lifted your chin to look her in the eye, and goosebumps ran down your skin as you recalled the previous encounters just like this moment.
“Y/N, we ended things because you were going to college and we would be too far. So I moved, and I got a job here, I’ve had the skills and degrees to be a professor and now it’s all finally working out for the best.” She paused, brushing the hair out of your face before cupping your cheeks lovingly.
“We can be together again, Y/N, we don’t have to fear it. We’ll have to hide it for a few years, but that’s all. Outside of these doors, we can be whatever we want to be, I don’t care about the age difference or the looks or the judgement, I only care about you. I love you, sweet girl.”
“Y/N? Y/N!” Your head shot up in a hurry, your mind quickly investigating the surrounding area until you registered where you were.
“You keep falling asleep in my class, and I’m beginning to grow quite concerned,” You faced the older woman who had a small smirk plastering her lips. She leaned in a little bit closer, and you hoped it did not look so promiscuous to others.
“Please see me after class, honey, we need to have a chat.”
557 notes · View notes
justauthoring · 5 months
Text
naturally [2].
Tumblr media
you fit into their little family perfectly - naturally → in which nanami assures you
a/n: a few of you asked for a part two and i just couldn't help myself :) maybe i'll make this a mini-series
pairing: nanami kento x f!reader, yuji itadori x f!reader (platonic)
Ever since that first dinner, you’ve been spending a lot more time at Nanami’s place.
The first time you had, you hadn’t been sure if it was appropriate – you didn’t want to intrude on either Nanami or Yuji’s place or make it seem like you were trying to force yourself into their family dynamic. Nanami, of course, respected your hesitance and promised to keep things slow.
It wasn’t until your fourth date until he finally kissed you and even then it was a sweet peck to the cheek, it was the sixth before he finally pressed his lips against yours and in all meaning of the words, swept you off your feet. You’d been smitten before, but every moment spent with Nanami had you swooning more to the point you felt like a little girl with a school crush, giddy at the thought of him and giggling to yourself when you were alone in your apartment, late at night, and the image of him would appear in your mind.
When he finally convinced you to spend the night, you’d been beyond nervous. But not for any of the conventional reasons. Of course the thought of what it would be like to sleep in the same bed as Nanami had crossed your mind, and you’d flushed heavily when he first offered it to you at the end of your date night that day. The both of you had gone out to dinner but Nanami had gotten a call halfway in from Shoko, who was babysitting Yuji, that the poor boy wasn’t feeling well and kept asking for his father. You’d tried to assure the man you didn’t mind cutting the date short, but he’d just shook his head, asking you to come with him to pick up Yuji and then you could come over to theirs after to continue. It wasn’t that you hadn’t wanted to – any time spent with Nanami was your favourite, and Yuji only made it more wonderful, but… but.
Would Yuji be okay with you intruding in?
You knew the small boy liked you. He often got giddy when you came over for dinner and he was always chatting your ear off whenever he got the chance; plus Nanami had assured you plenty of times that the small boy absolutely adored you. But this was different than just coming over for dinner or babysitting him for an evening – it was clear Yuji adored his father more than anyone (and you couldn’t blame him), so how would he feel about someone else cutting in on his time with Nanami?
You're a nervous wreck when the two of you go to pick up Yuji. Shoko’s already at the door the second Nanami knocks and she opens with a small smile, Yuji clutched in her arms as she passes the boy over to Nanami gently, before greeting you. It’s not the first time you’ve met her so you simply bow in greeting, letting your eyes drift over to Yuji who has since clutched on tightly to Nanami with a red nose and puffy eyes.
“He’s been sneezing all night. I fed him some soup for dinner but I don’t have any childrens medicine,” Shoko explains with a frown before her eyes drift to you. “I’m sorry to cut your date night short.”
You instantly shake your head; “it’s no worries, Shoko-san. Yuji-kun is way more important.”
You don’t see it, too busy turning to Yuji in concern, but Shoko smiles at that, sending a look at Nanami's way to which he just flushes, turning away from her knowing gaze.
You’ve found a good one, her eyes seem to say and Nanami can’t deny that. It would’ve been so easy for you to be upset that Nanami had to cut a date short because of his son, and God knows he’s had his incidents with women in the past that have been particularly nasty about it – but you? You seemed genuinely concerned when Nanami had gotten off the found and informed him and despite your seeming reluctance and worry to intrude, you hadn’t wasted a second before leaping to your feet to go and check on the boy yourself.
It makes Nanami’s heart warm in a way he’s never felt before.
With one final thanks Shoko’s way, the both of you take off and the two of you are heading back to the apartment. You trail behind Nanami as you make your way down the hall to the apartment, tiptoeing in when he’s opened the door and slipped in himself, shutting the door softly behind you before turning around, watching as Nanami slowly lowers Yuji to the couch in the middle of the room, making his way towards the kitchen.
He catches you standing by the door, looking aimless, and smiles at you; “I'm gonna grab him some medicine, would you mind keeping an eye on him?”
You nod with ease, blinking out of your stupor as you quickly make your way further in the house, crouching to your knees next to the boy on the couch. His eyes are shut when you reach him, so assuming he’s asleep, you move to brush the hair out of his sticky forehead, frowning when you realize how clammy he is – does he have a fever? 
“Y/N/N?”
You blink at Yuji’s tiny voice calling out for you, eyes flickering down only to see him staring up at you.
“Hello Yuji-kun,” you smile sweetly, running your fingers through his hair. “Your papa’s just getting some medicine for you, okay?”
He hums out a muffled okay, before cuddling into your arm, leaning into your touch. The action causes you to pause, lips parting in surprise – you would’ve thought for sure he’d be distressed at the sight of you and not his father… but, he looks peaceful. Comforted. 
“He really adores you, you know?”
You start at Nanami’s voice, head spinning to face him as you try not to move and disturb Yuji. Nanami’s smiling softly down at you as he kneels beside you, a spoon of medicine in his hand. You say nothing, despite the way your cheeks warm at his words, watching as Nanami softly calls for Yuji, the boy's eyes slowly peeling open as Nanami guides his head up gently, helping the boy take the medicine. You wince when his face twists at the taste, but he listens to his father easily and swallows it all down, before letting his eyes drip shut again.
You notice a moment later, he’s still tightly clutching onto your hand.
“Thank you again,” Nanami calls out gently so as not to wake up Yuji.
You shake your head; “Yuji-kun should always come first, Kento. You know I don’t mind.” Then, smiling softly, you turn to face him. “I know what I was signing up for when I agreed to a date, besides, I adore the little guy so much. It breaks my heart seeing him so sick.”
Nanami reaches forward, taking your free hand in his own and threading his fingers through yours. Your lips part at the action, eyes flickering from your intertwined hands back to him, eyes wide slightly when you realize just how Nanami’s looking at you. His eyes are full of love and adoration as he glances down at you.
“I hope I don’t make you feel uncomfortable when I say this,” Nanami starts, apprehensive. “But I’m so glad that Yuji has a female presence in his life. He’s always adored you, but these last few months I know it’s meant a lot for him to have you around. Some of the kids at his school make fun of him because he doesn’t have a mom, and… I know he appreciates you greatly.”
Eyes widening, you stare back at Nanami.
You’re not sure what to say… all you know is his words make your heart sore, warmth blossoming through your chest at his words. Your eyes flicker briefly back in Yuji’s direction, noticing the way he’s cuddle up to your touch, hands tightly gripping your larger one as his breath evens out and he falls into a deep sleep, both with the aid of the medicine and with your comfort before turning back to Nanami.
“I’ve been so afraid,” you confess quietly.
Nanami frowns, blinking as his gaze turns from one of love to concern; “Y/N?”
“I’ve been afraid,” you repeat, squeezing his hand back. “I love you both so much… I was afraid I was intruding, stepping where I shouldn’t but… but being with you both makes me so happy, I never wanna be away.”
Now it’s Nanami’s turn to be surprised, your confession has obviously shocked him before his shoulders ease and that soft, gentle smile curls back onto his lips as he leans forward. He brushes your cheek, touches soft, before pressing his lips against your own. The kiss is gentle and warm and comforting as you lean into his touch, relishing in the feeling of him so close, until he pulls away and your eyes flutter open, dazed.
“You’ve become like family to him,” Nanami assures, squeezing your hand back. “And I love you too.”
You blink, the fact that you’d confessed, in an indirect way, your love for Nanami then just sinking in. You hadn’t even realized you’d said the words, and you feel your cheeks warm, flushing brightly but Nanami just chuckles softly, shaking his head as he leans in to kiss you once more, as if to assure you he also meant it.
Your first night spent at Nanami’s is spent taking care of Yuji through a fever and the ever-growing feeling of being a part of a family.
919 notes · View notes
Note
hi luv! i hope you're doing great. Saw your recent post and i do have a hc request (since im having a haikyuu brainrot rn 👀), what would you think of making papa!haikyuu hcs 😩. How would these volley boys make as a father! (especially kenma, tsukki and noya) and you can add your favs too 💕sjsjjsjs hope you have a great day ahead!
I'm doing okay, I hope you are doing good and that you have a nice day! I hope you enjoy this post and it is to your liking
Them as fathers
Characters: Kenma, Noya, Tsukki Gender neutral reader, it is not mentioned whether the children are adopted or biological, Kenma’s is longer than the others because i had way too many ideas for him
Kenma Kozume
Tumblr media
First things first: I don’t think Kenma would have more than one kid, if you really wanted to have more he would relent but he is perfectly happy with just one, he thinks 3 people is the perfect number for your little family.
You may think he wouldn’t be that involved in his kids life, but that is a big misconception,
No matter how much work he has to do he makes sure to spend time with you and your kid.
Kenma would never show his child on the internet in any way, he wants to keep his private life private and keep his child safe, he knows how cruel the internet can be, no way in hell will he put his young child into that kind of situation.
Once your child learned to crawl he brought the three starters of Pokémon black and white (gen 5 best games I don’t take criticism) to see which one your child would choose.
Based on what they chose he will be sulky or proud. (I nearly made this into Oshawott propaganda but I didn’t you’re welcome). But at the end of the day he knows that they just choose one based on colours and shapes, he would teach them once they are older how to perfectly choose a starter.
Best believe that as soon as your kid is old enough to understand things he will show them all kinds of (age appropriate) video games.
You enter his gaming room with some snacks for him and you can just see him play Slime Rancher as your kid sits in his lap, eyes glued to what their father is doing.
He already has started a Stardew Valley coop farm for you three to play together one day, he is just waiting for the day your child is old enough.
Now enough video game talk, (though I have so many more ideas about this lol) your child loves it when Kenma reads to them before they sleep, his voice is very soothing to them.
Once they are asleep Kenma stays at their side a bit longer, watching them sleep a serene smile on his face.
Kenma can’t say no to your kid, he will buy them anything they want. You sometimes wonder how he can be so responsible with his money in any other situation, but your child just needs to point at something and he will buy it for them unless you intervene.
Lastly, be prepared for Kenma and your kid to team up against you. Board games? Yeah they are a team even if the game isn’t a game for teaming up. (Monopoly is a nightmare with them, Oh you need a red? Too bad your kid and Kenma are trading it between one another instead of giving it to you) But you can’t really seem to mind when you see the way Kenma and your kid smile. (Unless you are like me and are fiercely competitive in games then you may want to strike Kenma down)
Yu Nishinoya
Tumblr media
Noya would take longer to have children with you, at least until he is done travelling, he does want kids but is aware that travelling the world with them wouldn’t be ideal, he wants them to have a stable home.
Once you two do have kids, he wants at least 2 or 3. Noya wants a big family.
I feel like he is the type of Dad that throws his kids in the air and then catches them (he won’t do it high) and it always gives you a heart attack.
Instead of reading them good night stories he always tells them (embellished) stories from when he travelled the world, for example he once exclaimed to one of your kids how a mermaid vied for your attention but he fought them heroically off.
This does bite him in the ass years down the line once your kids are teens, they will bring these stories up whenever they can to tease him.
Asahi is basically an uncle to your kids, he often visits you and brings the kids many gifts. He loves to spoil them.
And yes Asahi designs the clothes for your kids as well, it often leads to many people asking you and Noya where you got the clothes for them from since they are such a high quality.
Yes, he will teach your kids “Rolling thunder”. No you can’t stop him. Even if your kids don’t play Volleyball they will still know the move.
This leads to your kids looking for his old jersey’s from highschool, putting them on and pretending to  be their dad. No he is not crying, he just got dust in his eye.
Vacations and holidays are important to Noya, while he can’t travel the world with your kids, he will take them on memorable vacations across the country when they are old enough to remember them.
He wants them to have a happy and fulfilled childhood with as many experiences as they can have.
Kei Tsukishima
Tumblr media
When you first brought up having children with him he asked “Are you sure you can take care of a child? Don’t you wanna practise with a pet rock first?” You lightly punched him in the chest for that and he had his signature smirk on his face.
He is honestly neutral on the aspect of having kids, he is not against it but also it was never his dream of having them, so he is fine with whatever you want.
Just like Kenma he would probably only have one kid, with his Job as a Volleyballplayer and everything he isn’t home that often, so if you had more than one kid he would feel guilty leaving you home alone with them.
Tsukki is probably the first one from Karasuno to have a kid, so he is smug about the fact that he is ‘better’ than the others in that regard.
The first team reunion after you two had your child will have him holding his child proudly, while he tells all the others how slow they are for not having kids yet, which has everyone rolling their eyes. He is very proud of his kid so that he will hold it up Lion King style so everyone can admire it.
Unluckily though he miscalculated the height of the ceiling and bonked your kids head on it, which left everyone in the room in a stunned silence (True story from my infant days, my dad did this exact thing with me)
You had made him change every diaper for 2 weeks for the heart attack he gave you with that, even if your kid was fine and wasn’t hurt.
Tsukki and you switch every night who is going to read your kid, while you pick different topics every time, he only ever chooses dinosaur stories to read to your kid.
Speaking of dinosaurs, Tsukki once claimed he had to educate your kid on certain things while you went out grocery shopping, when you came back you saw that the thing he was educating your child on was “The land before time” which made you smile.
Now no matter if the child is biologically yours or adopted, it somehow interhits his sass, which means you will be surrounded by two sassy little pieces of shit (affectionate).
Though you get both of them to calm down their sass by offering them some strawberry cake if they stop, it surprisingly works better on Tsukki then on your kid, who would have thought?
512 notes · View notes