#and wasn't possessed until the soul thing

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Stepcest, Stepson!Coryo x Stepmother!Reader, Sub!Coriolanus, Switch!Reader, Crassus Snow x Younger!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Crassus Snow is a cold hearted asshole, but he's a hot asshole... Stepcest, older man/younger woman, arranged marriage, cheating, affairs, secrets, cussing, secret love child, Coryo is a bit selfish and too ambitious, Crassus decides to try and be a better husband/father, allusion to science experiments on a district person

Chapter 6:

Things have subtly changed between Crassus and you since he came home a couple of nights ago asking about your day. He wasn't overly affectionate with you, but he did inquire about your day once he got home. He's even been coming home a good 15 minutes before dinner’s served, which is nice.

It's currently dinner time, so you and your family are gathered around the dining room table. The food the cook made is exquisite and the conversation is light. Or at least it's light until Coriolanus decides to start bragging about his day interning in Dr. Gaul's lab.

“Dr. Gaul let me do another experiment today since my last one was so successful.” Coriolanus announced to everyone gathered around the table. With a smug smile, the young platinum blonde went on to brag, “And she says that I have the potential to become a very successful Gamemaker.”

“Son, shouldn't you be focusing on your internship and graduating first before daydreaming about your future career?” Crassus asks, his tone cold, flat, and judgemental, while gracefully cutting his steak.

“I have a natural aptitude for gamemaking and the science that goes hand in hand with it according to Dr. Gaul.” Coriolanus retorted while spearing some asparagus with his fork. “In fact Dr. Gaul lets me conduct my own experiments without her overseeing me because she believes that I have the potential to be great; she trusts me to conduct the experiments successfully on my own.”

Hearing that Dr. Gaul sees great potential in Coryo sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. That frizzy haired mad scientist always frightened you. If she sees something in your lover that’d make him a great and successful Gamemaker then you're a bit concerned. To do that sort of stuff, well, you can't even imagine how black and rotten of a soul a person must possess. In fact, you're afraid that t Dr. Gaul might be trying to groom and mold Coryo into something evil- like her.

Grandma'am just nods at her grandson, a thin shaky, but polite, smile on her face, as she reaches for her drink. She wants to seem supportive of her grandson, but she truly knows nothing about the games- other than what she sees on tv. So she clearly doesn't have a clue about how science experiments benefit gamemaking.

And Crassus, well, he's shaking his head and rolling his icy eyes at his firstborn. He doesn't approve of his ventures with science and gamemaking. He'd prefer him to follow his path, to enlist in the peacekeepers as an officer since he'll be earning his degree in the double majors of Military Strategies and Political Science. Crassus feels that his son would be more successful in the military then in science and the media- and gamemaking to General Snow is nothing more than creating a circus for a TV show. A TV show that airs a district punishment where 24 district children fight to the death, but still it's a TV show…

"And the lab rat that I experimented with earlier.." Coryo says as he begins to tell his family about what he did to the so-called ‘lab rat’. He isn't very descriptive, but you can imagine what happened just from the hints that's falling out of his mouth; you can tell that it is a bloody horrible act.

You shudder, dropping your fork- causing it to clatter against the plate. Just hearing the innuendos and poetic words about blood and gore flow from Coriolanus' mouth as he speaks about the lab rat that wicked witch Dr. Gaul has him experimenting on makes you sick. Yes, he's not going in depth with details since everyone's eating dinner, but he's saying enough to make your stomach churn and your blood run cold.

General Crassus Snow had seen the horrors of war during the Rebellion; the Dark Days, so hearing his son's bloody, but sugar coated explanation of what ungodly things he's done to the ‘lab rat’ Dr. Gaul assigned to him didn't bother the military man. But, being a keen observer, Crassus noticed that both his mother and wife were bothered by Coriolanus' low key bragging about his gory and gruesome scientific deeds. So, he decided to intervene on behalf of the women in his life, both young and old.

Crassus pointed his fork at his son, cutting his icy eyes sternly at the pretentious boy across from him, and said, “Coriolanus, son, this isn't an appropriate dinner time talk.”

“I'm not stating graphic details, all I'm doing is-” The young blonde with baby blue eyes attempted to defend his boasting, only to be calmly and coldly interrupted by his father's deep and domineering tone ordering, “Shut up, Coriolanus. I told you, your experiments on your ‘lab rat’ isn't proper talk for a steak dinner.”

Coriolanus obeyed Crassus, but the sour look on his face proves that he wasn't thrilled to be put in his place. That he felt insulted that his father, the great war hero of Panem, wouldn't let him brag about his deeds as Dr. Gaul’s prodigy.

You're grateful to Crassus for getting Coriolanus to stop talking about his internship with Capitol City's resident mad scientist. You're positive that Grandma'am’s relieved that Crassus put an end to Coriolanus' bloody, but poetic scientific innuendos as well.

After dinner everyone goes their own way. You go to the parlor to play gin rummy with Grandma'am while Crassus goes to his study to work on some paperwork he brought home from work. And Coriolanus claimed that he was going to his room to work on a class assignment.

But Coriolanus didn't go to his room to work on his studies. Instead he went to the nursery to spend some father-son bonding time with Cassian. And since he didn't want to be disturbed he didn't announce his plans to anyone.

So, Crassus, believing that the nursery was empty except for Cassian, decided to go check on the baby before diving head first into his paperwork. But when the head of the Snow family approaches he notices that the nursery's door's cracked open; that the light's on. He swears he hears the low baritone of his firstborn wafting from the baby's room.

Curiously, Crassus approaches the door with the movements of a velociraptor. Reaching the door, he spies thru the crack that Coriolanus is standing right above Cassian's crib. Crassus knows that his firstborn wouldn't harm his newborn son, but he can't figure out what he's doing in the nursery. The middle-aged man knows how his oldest son is; that he's cold and manipulative- also a hit with the ladies, so he doesn't understand why he's showing an interest in the baby.

Crassus, despite what Coriolanus may believe, knows more about his son's actions and personality that the boy thinks. Crassus knows that his son has a cold, manipulative, nature that's easily hidden by charm. He also knows that his son desperately craves attention, validation, praise, and affection- much like his mother did. God, Crassus remembers that his first wife seemed to want validation on her beautiful face, which she powdered every chance she got. Coriolanus was a weakling in Crassus' eyes, but he was a weakling that didn't have a loving bone in his body.

So why is Coriolanus bothering a sleeping Cassian for?

And the answer to that question was revealed when Crassus saw Coriolanus scoop up Cassian, only to cradle him in his arms while cooing, "Daddy's here, my baby boy. Daddy loves you, okay?"

Crassus’ icy eyes widened and his earlier suspicions from the day his son was born, when he heard Coriolanus call Y/N mommy hit him full force. Hearing Coriolanus tell Cassian that ‘Daddy's here, my baby boy. Daddy loves you, okay?’ made him start to feel that his oldest son, who he knows had a bit of a reputation with the popular girls at the Academy (including the Dovecote girl that caught the ‘flu’ during the 10th Annual Hunger Games and became a temperamental mess with yellow snake like eyes and rainbow scales littering areas of her skin like a bad case of plaque psoriasis), had targeted and seduced his wife when he wasn't around. Crassus knew that in the early era of his marriage to you that he was rarely home due to being a workaholic; he wouldn't put it past his son (who's his spitting image) to corrupt you with charming lies and batting his long lashes while giving you sweet doe eyes.

Crassus knows how his first wife snagged him; he wouldn't put it past his son to use those tactics while seducing the ladies- including you.

But the general doesn't want to jump to conclusions just yet. Although Coriolanus' murmurs are a clear reason to believe that you had an affair with him, Crassus wants to observe his firstborn's actions and collect evidence before he does anything rash, like confronting him and demanding a DNA test. Being a military man, he wants to have a proper ‘recon’ done and a ‘battle plan’ in place before confronting his weak heir about commiting stepcest with you.

Crassus, after seeing Coriolanus in the nursery, returns to his study to finish up his paperwork. But the cogs in his mind won't stop turning, he can't stop thinking about what he saw and overheard in the nursery. So, he decides to join you and Grandma'am in the parlor room.

“Who's winning?” Crassus asks, coming up to you while you're sitting at the card table, waiting for Grandma'am to make a move.

“I am.” You reply with a smile, looking at your husband as he takes a seat in the empty chair next to you.

Grandma'am turns to her son, who's sitting between you and her at the card table that seats four, and tells him in a blunt, but motherly tone, “Crassus, you'll have to wait until this game's over to join. We've just started a new hand and I'm not folding so you can play.”

Crassus nods, accepting that he won't be joining the game anytime soon.

And then, right as Grandma'am discards a card after drawing one, the loud cry of your son's heard echoing all the way from the nursery on the other side of the penthouse.

Crassus knows that Coriolanus, despite cradling the baby, didn't change Cassian, because if he did the baby wouldn't be crying his lungs out. Oh, isn't Coriolanus so great when it comes to newborn care? Holds a baby, but won't change it. Hell, Crassus will even tell you about how he's changed a few dirty diapers in his youth- not many, but a few whenever he was in his son's nursery and felt/smelled a heavy or wet diaper while holding him.

Hell, if what Crassus overheard Coriolanus say is true (and he hopes it's not because he'd hate to think that you'd cheat on him with his own son) then his heir isn't that great of a father.

But who’s he to judge? Crassus' son’s quite popular with the ladies and might've seduced you. What kind of fathering produces something like that?

“Crassus, can you take my hand? I need to go check on Cassian.” You ask your husband, holding your cards out to him.

Taking the cards from your outstretched hand, causing his fingertips to lightly brush against yours, he assures you, “Go ahead, petal. I'll be fine taking your place against mother in the card game.”

“Thank you.” You tell your husband, a hint of a smile on your lips, before taking off to tend to your baby.

Crassus looks over his hand, concluding that you have descent cards. Not enough to call gin rummy, but they have some potential.

He goes to draw from the deck, only to be bombarded by his mother patting his hand and telling him in that knowing way all mothers have, “I see you're showing a fondness to your wife, Crassus.” She lets his hand go, enabling him to draw his card, while smiling, “Petal’s a lovely pet name for Y/N; very befitting of a Snow wife.”

“Mhm.” Crassus hums, placing his card with the others in his hand.

While he muses over what card to discard, his mother gives him the sage advice of, “Well, I'm glad to see that things are better between the two of you. But, just remember that you should always kiss her good morning and goodnight even if you've had a little tiff. Can't ever let hard feelings or feelings of disinterest take root and fester in a marriage, especially one as fragile as yours.”

“Thank you, mother. I'll be sure to remember that.” Crassus tells Grandma'am while discarding a card he deems useless.

But maybe he shouldn't have discarded that one since his mother snatched it up from the pile and used it to declare gin rummy.

And later that night when you and your husband go to bed, he put his mother's advice to good use. He takes you by surprise when after telling you goodnight he commands in a deep tone, “Come here.”, while sitting up in bed.

You had just laid down and turned your back to him, which you do every night. You didn't feel like getting up, so you countered his request with, “We already said goodnight, Crassus, so go to sleep.”

But Crassus couldn't go to sleep. No, not without kissing you goodnight. If what his mother said was true and goodnight along with good morning kisses kept a marriage from fracturing then he needed to give you one. Lord knows that he never kissed his first wife goodnight or was overly affectionate with her, but Demeter seemed just fine with a transactional intimacy in their marriage. But you're not Demeter, you're you and Crassus has discovered that to put a smile on your face; to keep you happy and from crying that he needs to approach you with interest and intimacy.

Well, he decides that if you're not going to go to him then he'll just have to go to you.

So, Crassus leans over your body, his large frame engulfing yours, And tilts your chin with his large hand, turning your head towards his. And without warning, he brings his face close to yours and presses his lush, pillowy soft lips against yours for a kiss. A kiss that took you aback and lit a spark inside of you.

This kiss was unlike the others that you shared with your husband. Usually they felt mechanical and robotic, something that's done before or during the deed of fucking, but this kiss was fueled by a feeling of some sort. What’s fueling your husband's sudden kiss, you didn't know, but you did know that his kisses had the ability to harbor more than the cold impersonal touch you've grown accustomed to from him. In fact, his lush lips had the ability to inspire heart-rending stirrings.

Without even thinking much of it, your lips chased after his, wanting- no craving more of his kiss, as he began to pull away.

The action made your husband realize that you're touch starved; sent a small pang of guilt in his chest. Crassus couldn't help, but think that maybe that's another reason why you're sad and crying alone in the corner while he's at work. Because the little intimacy that there was between the two of you died once you grew too big in your pregnancy.

“We’ve got 5 more weeks until we can fuck again, so just let me know when the doctor clears you and I'll make up all the lost intimacy to you, okay?” Crassus tells you, his deep tone holding a slight warmness in it that you're not used to hearing, as he caresses your jawline with his thumb.

“Okay.” You tell your husband, already knowing that once your clear bill of health comes in you'll be stuck being his fleshlight- it's just a duty that comes with being Mrs. Y/N Snow.

But now that the surprise kiss is over and Crassus is just staring at you with something unreadable in his icy eyes, caressing your jawline with slow strokes of his thumb, you feel small and vulnerable. Perhaps even foolish in a way; you can't help but feel like you're being toyed with by your bored middle-aged husband because you know deep down in your heart that he doesn't give a shit about you. Hell, he's probably just playing with you to see how fast it'll take to make you melt under his touch before he decides to pull the rug out from under you and use your receptive feelings as a zinger to keep you in line with.

Only the gods know that your husband's a cold, stern, indifferent man that doesn't have a heart. Why would he show you an ounce of affection, if he didn't mean to turn it around into something cruel and uncaring in the end that would just keep you under his thumb?

Feeling a bit overwhelmed and self conscious, your melancholy creeps up on you and tears tickle the back of your eyes. Not wanting to experience a baby blues crying jag during bedtime, you push your husband's hand away from your face and quickly bury your face into your pillow.

Your rejecting touch burnt Crassus' hand worse than any fiery flames could. He couldn't fathom why you reacted the way that you did. Did he do something wrong? He thought that tonight was a good night between the two of you. He asked you about your day once he got home, spent some time with you and the baby, made Coriolanus shut up when his lab rat talk was bothering you at dinner, and had some light banter with you while playing cards with you and his mother. To him, the night went well and there was no reason for you to reject him after his goodnight kiss.

Maybe you're just tired from taking care of the baby all day?

Yes, that has to be it.

Because if it's not, well…Crassus doesn't want to think about that.

The following day Coriolanus was still a bit butthurt over his family not caring about his remarkable scientific breakthroughs and success. He's still salty about his father, the war hero General Crassus Snow, shutting down his talk about the experiments he performed on the lab rat Dr. Gaul assigned him. How dare his father, whose success and grandeur he's been told he has the potential to surpass, make him shut up about his brilliance in the scientific field that accompanies the role of gamemaker- whether that be an assistant or the head gamemaker itself.

The platinum blonde with the halo of curls felt that you at least should've wanted to hear about his natural aptitude for scientific endeavors and gamemaking. But no, you let his father, your damn husband, order him to stop all talk about his efforts with the lab rat. If you ask him, you've turned into a selfish bitch that's either crying or with the baby all the time. Goddamnit, you don't want to do anything (like suck his cock) anymore.

It's bullshit how nobody seems to appreciate his efforts, his intelligence, and his potential for greatness. What the hell kind of family does he have?

Well, he's sure that Tigris would appreciate it, but she's so kindhearted and gentle that he's afraid she'd faint at the reference to blood let alone any other innuendos to his experiments with the lab rat from 12. So, he'll refrain from telling her anything about it when he visits her next at her boutique/above shop condo.

And talk about his personal lab rat, she was doing exceptionally well. She responded to the after experiment tests and check ups with efficiency and skill that most lab rats struggle to possess right away after operations. Oh, yes, the reconditioning of the blank canvas that's the mind of lab rat 12 is going perfectly. In fact, Dr. Gaul says that Coriolanus has a natural talent and skill at molding and creating useless things into something new and functional.

After spending some time deep in the depths of the Citadel, where Dr. Gaul's lab is, doing only the gods know what to the little girl he's now dissociated himself into believing is a lab rat from District 12 instead of a living, breathing human being, Coriolanus found himself in the library at the University. He didn't have any classes today, but he was at the library studying. Coriolanus, despite having the best marks in all of his classes, wanted to remain the A+ student that he is; which is why he's cramming for his upcoming finals.

Finals that will determine if he keeps his spot as the valedictorian or not.

And while his nose is buried in a book for his sociology class Livia Cardew spots him. She's in the library to study for her own finals. She's a finance major, being that her mother owns and operates the largest bank in all of the Capitol let alone Panem, so truly none of her classes will be in the same scope as Coriolanus' considering that he's a double major in Military Strategies and Political Science.

Okay, that's a lie. She shares one class with him. An elective course: Communications. Although he sits in the front and is a total professor's pet and she sits in the middle of the lecture hall, they still share the class. Livia's impressed by his natural wit and way with words, how he delivers speeches in the class with such grace. He's so perfect in the craft of communication that he could very well teach the class; show the professor a thing or two.

Livia's not bad at public speaking, but she's not as poised as Coriolanus. She's a typical Capitolite gossip girl and will ramble on and get off topic during a speech if it's not an assigned prewritten one. If it's a speaking exercise where she has to come up with something on demand, well, she's doomed if the speech has to last more than 3 or 4 minutes. She's a proper young lady of Capitol City, Panem, but a snobby elitist all the same; sad to say gossiping is a main part of that.

But seeing Coriolanus sitting alone at a table on the second floor of the library feels like the opportune moment to grab his attention. Yes, Livia has been teasing Coriolanus for years (she was a straight up terror to him in their later Academy years) but she knew that her role in life, other then taking over her mother's bank since her brother was a useless drunk and her father’s been on a permanent vacation in 1 at a ski lodge since she was 10, was to bag herself a wealthy and successful husband. And who better than Coriolanus Snow, the heir to the esteemed Snow family, to raise her station in high society?

So, the dirty blonde walks over to Coriolanus' table with a mission in mind: snatch him up in her claws.

Setting her bag down on the table near the scattering of notes, Livia takes a seat next to Coriolanus all the while asking, “May I sit with you, Coriolanus?”

The young man with light blonde curls raised his head up to look at the dirty blonde who'd just plopped down in the seat next to him. Honestly, he hated her; she grated on his nerves. But Coriolanus knew that demanding that she leave him alone would be bad manners; would make him look rude and ungentlemanly. He couldn't afford Livia, one of the biggest gossiping bitches in his social circle, to spread the word around that he's an ill-mannered oaf.

No, that would ruin all of his future plans of greatness and grandeur.

Nodding, he gives the dirty blonde girl a fake smile. “Of course you may, Livia.” Coriolanus politely says before going back to his studies.

Livia digs her books and notes out of her large designer bag while asking, “What class are you studying for?”

“Sociology of Deviant Behavior. Dr. Gaul, my mentor, teaches it.” Is the answer Coriolanus gives the girl that he hates, who's opening up a book for one of her finance classes.

“I'm a finance major, so I've never taken that class. What's it about?”

Flipping his page in his book, Coriolanus answers Livia with, “Essentially Dr. Gaul teaches about the forms of social deviance, theories on them and the societal responses to them.”

“Oh, so it's about criminal and social control.” Livia concludes, pretending to show an interest in the blonde boy's class in order to reel him in. What? She'll be graduating University soon, she needs to start thinking about finding a potential husband; who better than the Snow heir?

Hearing Livia take an interest in his sociology class strokes Coriolanus' bruised ego. Oh, maybe, just maybe she'd like to hear about his work with his lab rat?

“Dr. Gaul assigned me a lab rat, some wretch of a thing from district 12 that was caught roaming around in the woods, to perform experiments on for her sociology class.” Coriolanus tells Livia as an opening to see if she'd like to hear more about his experiments with the lab rat.

“What kind of experiments can a sociology class on deviancy consist of?” Livia asks, not because she cares but because she wants Coriolanus to think that she does. She wants to woo him and what better way to do that then to appeal to his mind and his accomplishments with his mentor.

“Behavioral correction experiments that focus on reprogramming the mind.” Explains Coriolanus while adding to the notes he has scattered on the table. Apparently he read something in his textbook that he forgot to write down previously.

“Are those kinds of experiments hard to do?”

“Yes,” Coriolanus nods, “usually they are, but Dr. Gaul says I'm a gifted prodigy of hers.” Lifting his head from the book his nose was buried in and turning to capture Livia's attention, he brags, “All of my experiments have been done successfully without any oversight by my mentor; she even told me that I have the potential to be a greater man than my father.”

Hearing that peeked Livia's interest. If Dr. Gaul thought that Coriolanus had the potential to surpass his war hero father then he'd surely be a worthy catch. Smiling, she urges, “Please, tell me all about your successful experiments.”

“Of course, Livia. I'd be delighted to.” Coriolanus grinned like the Cheshire cat before going on to tell Livia all about the expe on his ‘lab rat’, using the exact same language and poetic innuendos he used the previous night with his family.

And when Livia showed an interest in Coriolanus' achievements and accomplishments scientifically, well, it made him feel powerful. It also made it feel like the only one that cares is the girl that bullied him while growing up, the girl whose hyena laugh he can't stand, the very girl he hates.

But by spending time in the library with the snobby, shallow girl he hates, Coriolanus is able to brag about his experiments without being shunned or shamed. Which led to Coriolanus asking Livia out to lunch; of course she accepted his offer.

A lunch offer that would be the beginning of something and the end of something all at the same time.

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[etfrin]

⤷❝ The Quiet Gift | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | squirting, Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, possessiveness, fingering (f. receiving), bathroom sex, mirror sex, semi-public sex (there was a gala), pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), dumbfication if you squint, dom sub undertones, degradation, ownership kink, breath play with a twist | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: continuation of the arranged marriage au, this is your one year anniversary with him with a gala held in place to celebrate, you get insecure because of some bitches and Coryo fucks you in the bathroom with sprinkles of your daily life with him.

⇢☾Request: this is a request (idk if i’m writing it in the write place im new to tumblr i usually use wattpad) young coriolanus snow bathroom mirror sex like him making u watch ur self come undone in the mirror

⇢☾A/N: enjoy everyone! And to one who requested, hope you like this! :) this might be my last post of this theme btw, i am getting sick of the blue :/

arranged marriage au: the study, mine to love

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >

A year had passed of your marriage, a bond between two souls which wasn't much of a lie as before. Things with Coryo were better than you could ever expect. You thought he would isolate himself from you after your confession but so much had changed. He had gotten softer but more possessive. His edges are sharp yet he makes sure it's a shield for you, not something that would make you bleed.

Among his actions include changing your entire wardrobe (not without your opinion first), a library that connects to his office (his office is something you have access to at all times now), his room was now yours both (your favorite change), and last but not least a poison taster was included so that no attempts of assassination at the First Lady could be taken.

At first, you thought it to be extra, but knowing that it would put his paranoid mind at peace you allow it without much to say. He picked out your outfit every day, and sometimes you did the same for Coriolanus. He would frown as you decide what to wear or not for him for the day, knowing that some of the pieces don't match his style but when he sees your smile as you pick out the clothes. He smooths his frown and takes whatever horrible fashion statement you created for him and wears it with pride.

If anyone dared to speak up about it, he proudly said that his wife picked it out and everyone knew better than to speak a single ill word of the unspoken Queen of Panem.

Today was one of those days when you decided to pick his outfit. Today was something special after all. One year had passed since you had become Mrs. Snow, and a gala was to be held tonight to celebrate the union.

So yes, you were going to pick his outfit. You had even woken up early because of it. You giggled as you opened your eyes, your arm around Coryo whose hair looked impossibly messy, sticking out everywhere. It made him look years younger than he was. You chuckled at the sight, your heart clenching with the love you have for this man. You lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead and then his cheek. You whispered, not expecting him to wake up until his alarm rang, “Good morning, Coryo”

You quietly slipped away from the bed and tiptoeed to the closet. The closet you both shared now. One side carrying every single piece of your clothing and the other side his. You wanted to pick out something different for your husband once, sick of seeing him in his white shirts and black vest. That's how you picked out a black suit with a white vest and a red silk shirt. You could imagine unbuttoning this off of him tonight and the thought made your body heat up and a giggle escaped your lips.

“What are you laughing about, doll?” A voice, his deep sleepy voice startling you. “Nothing!” You quickly said, turning to look at Snow, your breath hitching as his eyes were half closed and his hair turned into a mess of curls. Sometimes you wonder if this was all a fever dream and if you truly have the privilege of seeing him like this. You placed the clothes into a corner and went to him.

You pulled him down, your hand on his nape and another on his cheek as you guided him to your lips. Morning breath be damned. His actions were reflexive with how his arms pulled you in closer as his lips pressed into yours. He smiles against your lips and soon both of your tongues tangle in an uncoordinated sleepy manner and you whimper into his mouth.

This was real. This was your reality and you would do everything to keep it as it is. You pulled back and he whispered, “What was that for, doll?”

“Just needed to make sure this was real,” you answered him. Your words make him crack a real smile, something even you saw rarely and it would only be possible in moments like this. Moments when you have shocked the man with your actions and words and made him fall harder for you.

“Well it is,” he grins. Before his expression clears up he focuses on the clothes you have set aside. “Outfit for today?” He asked. You nod and smile at him, gesturing at the clothes. “You would look handsome in them,” you said. “Don't I always look handsome?” He smirks, you laugh, “I am not falling for that trap, dear husband. I'll be in the shower, choose something for me.” You press a kiss on his cheek before leaving the closet.

After showering and wearing the red dress he had decided, both of you go on for your respective duties. The gala would start early in the day and there were a few hours left before it formally started as guests were already coming in.

The mansion was set up beautifully, no words could have possibly explained the amount of work and dedication to make this the event of the year, valued higher than the Hunger Games itself. In another universe, it may not have been possible, in this one however you somehow managed to crack into his heart and made yourself a higher priority.

You were doing finishing touches of your makeup when Corio came in, his hair slicked back but his body tense, his eyes unable to hide the shakiness in them. You don't say anything, letting the man have his moment of vulnerability. You knew you would mess him up even more if you pointed it out, so you continued your task.

You didn't pay him any attention despite the itch to turn to him. You force yourself to stare straight into the mirror, applying your lipstick for the night. That was until he came behind you, his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest, his head propped on your shoulder as you felt him take deep breaths.

You don't ask if anything is wrong, accepting the rare form of intimacy he initiated. Usually, you're the ones for the hugs, the genuine ones anyway. You knew despite everything you were like a math equation to Snow. His mind figured out the formulas to keep you to him forever, you doubted if he saw anyone as his equal but you were perhaps the closest thing to it.

You had accepted it long before, but moments like this when Coriolanus allowed himself to be a human meant everything to you. You fell for every version of him, the one that is an untouchable deity who could kill you without guilt, and the human he was, obsession filling in veins making you the sole objective of his mind as he already achieved Panem.

You close your eyes, taking deep breaths with him. In the end, you were human too and you broke. “What's wrong?” You asked, as softly as possible yet breaking the bubble that had formed.

He smirks through the mirror, his eyes meeting yours, a sense of superiority in the blue hues. “Nothing’s wrong, my doll,” he whispered to you, pressing a ghost-like kiss to your bare shoulder. His arms cage you tighter, making a small gasp on your lips. “Okay,” you smile at him.

“Ready to start the gala then?” You asked, “Snows are born ready,” he replied, his tone smug.

One of his arms was kept wrapped around his waist while the other opened a drawer to take out a small box. “For you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your neck. You opened the box, and in it was a gold necklace with the initial ‘S’. You blush, and leave it to Corio to give you a necklace with his initials for an anniversary gift. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your head turning back and you gave him the brightest smile. “Help me wear it?” You mumbled as you handed him the box.

And so he did, and now a necklace was on your neck, the letter ‘S’ sitting perfectly on your skin. It scratched an innate itch for Snow to see you wear this. A part of him had expected you to fight, and be disgusted by this action, his mind thinking of several ways to make (force) you to wear the necklace. But as always you surprised him with your acceptance, as if you knew that wearing this would help him with his possessiveness. You were truly the right woman for him.

With his arm around your waist, you walk into the celebration. Countless people, the top elites of the Capitol were attending the gala. Everything had to be perfect.

Alas, fate is nothing but fickle.

The rumors didn't catch your ears at first before slowly the whispers caught up to you. Too busy with your life in the mansion and with Coriolanus, you rarely were social. You never had many friends from the capitols' elites. And those who knew were merely allies for the future. So the gossip never reached your ears.

Gossip you knew better to believe. Words change when they travel mouth to mouth. It can be easily manipulated too, your husband was a living proof of that. The snake tongue of all of Panem. But when the words seemed to get louder and louder, you couldn't help but feel maybe it's tinged with truth.

Snow was busy talking to diplomats while you were politely having a conversation with the ladies. That's when the questions began about some things they had heard about Snow. Each worse than the other but nothing you didn't already know. You make sure to change their perspective whenever something new comes up. Coriolanus was still new at this position, anything could snatch the power away if either of you weren't careful.

Feeling like you have finished the job, you begin to move away, only to stop when you hear, “...even wearing a pendant with his initial, she's nothing more than a whore who was pushed up to play the role of the First Lady. A woman of her standing would never deserve such a title.”

It was true, when Snow asked you to marry you, it was sudden and he gained nothing from it. Nothing, no money, power, and just a few connections you had but he had already impressed them all beforehand so there was no need for you. Your history in the academy wasn't all that great either, you were never the best but wholly average. A man like Snow deserved the best.

Insecurity claws at your heart and even so with recent events you knew their words were wrong. Tears burned your eyes. Your hand goes to the necklace you had on, your fingers twirling the pendant. Meanwhile, despite Coriolanus' focus being mainly on talking sweet to the guests and gathering sponsors, his eyes were on you, your every moment, and each person you spoke to. He notices you walking away from the gala and into the hallways. He followed you.

You were in one of the many bathrooms the manor had to offer. You stared at the mirror, the necklace you were wearing, and your hands traveled to the back ready to take it off. That's when Coriolanus enters the bathroom, his footsteps stopping midtrack as you freeze too.

“Coryo,” you begin to speak, your hand at your side now. “I was just-” “Why were you going to take it off?” He interrupted you, his face twisted in a glare you never thought would be directed at you. You shrugged, trying to play casual, “It doesn't feel appropriate.” “Why?” He questioned his tone icy calm, spreading chills down your spine. “Because-” because you didn't feel worthy of it. “Because you're ashamed of me,” he scoffs, walking closer to you. His eyes now fully glaring at you.

You frown, “What? Coryo, no-” He tilts your chin up, as he leans in, his expression twisted in fury, “Then what? There's no other appropriate reason for you to take it off then.” In truth, something was getting lost in translation, the women you were talking to earlier were going to be accused of treason in a few days. The cause? The rumors (some truth mixed in as well) they had spread about Snow. They were invited out of courtesy and after this, they had signed their death certificate.

“It's nothing like-” “Then what?” He hissed, “Did you finally come to your senses? Did they tell you how much of a horrible monster I am? And a horrible president?” You knew some sort of major miscommunication had happened but you had no idea how to deal with it. Not when Snow pressed a harsh, hard kiss to your lips, teeth clashing and his tongue seemingly fighting with yours for dominance that you easily gave over.

“You can't escape me, doll. No matter how horrible you realize I am. Think about running away and it's your dead body that will be leaving this mansion.” he whispered against your lips, his hands on your waist, your body flushed against his as your back hit the counter.

You chuckled at his words, knowing that would never be your end. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and it makes you giggle even further. “Dove, I am not joking,” he said, looking straight in your eyes. “I know,” you smile at him, “You…” you shake your head, smiling, you were surely crazier than him. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Those women said something… mean and it made me realize I may not be worthy of this necklace…” you begin to explain, hoping the explanation would calm him down.

You thought wrong. “You don't think I can decide who deserves to be my property, pet. Whom I let to be my queen,” he said, his tone deeper than before. He whispered, “I decided it's you. It's been a year since that decision and I haven't regretted it once.”

He manovaroued you so you were facing the mirror. He was right behind you, his eyes hard. “The woman you're looking at right now is mine. My pet. My wife. How dare you try to take off a mark of my ownership, doll?” You opened your mouth to apologize, but a moan escaped instead as he bit into your shoulder. He begins to press you against the counter, your body bending over as he continues to press wet kisses on your nape.

“You need a reminder about whom you belong to,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin making you shiver, heat spreading to your body as his hands unzipped your dress from behind, letting the fabric fall on the floor. “I am yours,” you moan to him as his palms knead your breasts through the bra. “Then you should have known better, my stupid bird.”

“You look away from the mirror even once…,” he said, his hands squeezing your breasts roughly, his head propped up to your shoulder, his face set in a smirk, “and that group of women dies.” They were going to die either way but you didn't know that.

You gasp, “Snow- '' His hands squeeze your breasts harder, bordering on pain. “It’s Coryo for you, dove,” he said, slowly yet firmly as if talking to a child. His hands move downwards, one moves to your hip, and for the other, his fingers slip inside your panties. You whimper when his fingertip touches your clit. At any other time, he would have been slow, and gentle when he was rubbing the bud but now? His touch was fast and unconcerned, his sole goal was to inflict punishment with pleasure.

He rubbed at your clit relentlessly, making you soak your panties with your juices. His other hand squeezes your hips. You whine, your eyes closing and he pinches your clit making you moan louder than you should, your eyes opening immediately to meet his gaze.

“Only warning, pet,” he whispered, his finger now playing with the clit even more relentlessly. Back and forth, up and down with no mercy, making the bud swollen and your pussy clench around nothing. “Yes, Coryo,” you gasp.

“My dumb pet can learn after all,” he whispered to your ear and then his lips kissed the clasp of your necklace. His fingers abandon your clit to swipe at your folds to gather your wetness. He chuckles as he continues to tease you like this, his hard cock pressing against your ass.

“Coryo,” you whispered and your eyes connected with his and you knew his fingers could feel the flex of your cunt around nothing. “That's it. Look at me, doll.”

He slipped his fingers one by one into your slit, the stretch making you gasp. “It's too much,” you managed to get out, your voice shaky. “You can take it,” he tuts. His fingers begin to message your wall, hitting every crook and canny you never knew existed. He twisted his fingers thrusting right at your g-spot making you moan loudly, your body was now completely bent over in front of the mirror and your hands gripped the counter for life. Snow continues to playfully stretch you out, scissoring your pussy with his long fingers.

When he finally deemed you loose enough, he pulled his fingers out without a warning making you whimper. He pulls down your panties around your knees, and then his hand unzipped his pant to take his cock out. Something in you liked how he was composed and fully clothed while having you like this, primal and debauched. It showcased Coriolanus perfectly, no matter how prim and proper the man was outside in the end he was as much of a mess.

His impatient was clear with his clenched jaw, one of his hands traveling upwards your body to grip your breast like a handle as his free hand guides his leaking, hard cock into your entrance. “I was going to fuck you good tonight, on a bed properly like a wife deserves,” he begins to say as he pushed in with a single stroke. Your mouth lets out a small scream as your pussy adjusts to his dick. “Instead I have to treat you like a whore, bending your ass over a counter and fuck you while there are people all over the mansion.” He shakes his head disappointed, he meets your gaze, “I expected better, doll.”

“Then why keep a disappointment around,” you snapped at him, making him raise his eyebrows at your tone, his cock twitching inside your walls. “I wonder that myself too,” he grunts, his face buried in your shoulder, his tongue licking your salty skin. “You’re my everything,” he whispered, “Don't you forget that, dove.”

It was a confession that made you turn your back and made you catch his lips. He groans into your mouth as both of your tongues play with each other, expressing words the others cannot say. His free hand went to grip your necklace chain, making you gasp as he fisted the chain and pulled at it, knocking at your breath in one go.

His hips had begun to pound into you, short, hard thrusts that made his cockhead press against your g-spot while his remaining length messaged your walls perfectly. “You don't have to think, doll. I am here to think for you. You don't have to think about deserving me, or Panem. You don't have to think at all, just be my bird. My bird only,” he grunts.

Your eyes had begun to see spots from the lack of air, he hadn't seemed to care as your pussy keeps squeezing around him because of it. He lets go of the chain, making you gasp and you take the air you desperately need as his thrusts begin to get sloppier. Coryo was too impatient, too worked up, too mad at you to care about your pleasure. You were a pet getting used and you loved every second of it.

“I love you,” you whispered to him, and he groaned in response, as his thrusts got slower. He was edging himself to last longer, for this not to end. He bites your nape, not hard as he does usually to make sure the mark fades in a few seconds. His hips continue to rock into you, both of his hands now kneading at your clothed breast. He makes your round flesh spill from the bra and cups them with a groan escaping his lips.

“You’re mine,” he said as he pressed wet kisses all over your neck and shoulders, “Mine.” Your pussy clenched around him, making his pace get even slower, frustration begins to claw your mind as your body tethers to the edge. “Yours,” you agreed. “Fuck me faster,” you plead.

He lets out a laugh, “No. You'll take what I'll give.” “Coryo, my love please!” You begged. His hips stutter, making you feel confused, before realizing why he had stopped. You hadn't called him that since that night and you realized you had leverage on the man.

“My love, please! Fuck me harder,” you spill, “Baby, please!” He clenched his jaw trying so hard not to give in to the instinct of rutting into you like an animal. Knowing that he was near the edge, you continue, “Cum in me and make me walk around the gala with your cum inside, please. Please, mark me!”

That did the trick rather perfectly. His hand wraps around your throat, not choking you but staying there as a comforting presence that shouldn't have been comforting at all. “My dumb pet has ways with words. Gotta fuck that out of you, my dove,” he smirked.

His hips begin to roll into you again, making you gasp and squeeze his dick with your slick walls. The start of it was slow and cautious before Coriolanus decided to throw it all in the wind. He takes half of his length out before slamming it back to you. The sound of hips snapping echoed into the air along with his grunts and your moans. He kept fucking into you, with no care about anything.

Both of your sights were obscene in the mirror and it turned you not to end. Your body had begun to heat, your pussy aching to cum after being played with for so long. The tension in your body was close to snapping, and he knew it too. Knew it the way your cunt kept sucking his cock in so well. His head was on your shoulder, his mouth breathing out hot air onto your skin.

“Look at me,” you whispered, and his eyes snap at you and not even a second later he spills into your cunt, fucking his cum into you as he lets out a whine for the first time. You gasp, feeling your build-up fading without snapping but Snow was never to disappoint. He pulled his cock out, just to stuff you with his fingers. You whimper, your sensitive walls twitching around his fingers, so close to breaking.

Coriolanus doesn't waste a second to thrust into your sopping cunt, your folds covered in his cum, and fucking that into you with his fingers. He crooks his fingers perfectly, hitting your g-spot and making you black out for a second as his fingers keep assaulting your insides without a care.

You gasp, your body starting to give up. Snow has to wrap an arm around you to help you stay balanced. “That's it, doll. Cum on my fingers. I will make you cum on my cock later,” he promised to you. You cry out as his fingers continue their fast pace of thrusting. And finally, finally, your orgasm builds up again. A single graze from his fingertip onto your spongy spot has you not only cumming but squirting too.

Even Coriolanus eyes widen in surprise as you spill your juices onto the floor, ruining your dress and everything. You begin to feel ashamed of losing control in such a manner, but Coryo curses, “Fuck, doll. Fuck, that was…” He couldn't even finish the sentence.

You close your eyes, feeling yourself close to losing balance, only for Snow to swipe your legs from the floor and carry you to the bathtub.

“I’ll take care of you, doll,” he said, “I’ll bring in a new set of clothes, wait.” “What about the gala?” You asked. He kissed your temple before he replied, “I told everyone to leave the moment you walked away. Told everyone you were sick and as your husband, I shall be taking care of you.”

You let out a raspy chuckle, it was rather amazing how Coriolanus Snow always turned everything in his favor. Even this would help his image of being a president who took such good care of his wife and would surely take the country to great lengths.

“Snow lands on top,” you whispered to him with a smile.

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy

[ridingthatd]

◕◔ RYOMEN TWINS II

◔◕ itadorixfem!reader, sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, twins breeding you, possessive, kinky asf part 2

sukuna ryomen. sukuna was never interested in anything other then aiming to evolve himself, becoming even stronger and ruling with immense power.

after all sukuna is the strongest sorcerer of a thousand years, and is known as "the King of Curses".

sukuna is selfish, cold-hearted, immoral, and exceptionally sadistic. while his brother itadori found humans amusing , sukuna thought the slaughter of women and children are just like maggots crawling around.

he never understood why his brother was so obsessed with humans souls- their emotions, emotions both him and his brother never felt.

fear. sadness. anger. jealousy. love- they were think they never got the taste of. sukuna never understood why would a man beg on his knees- broken knees to spare his so called wifes life, why would a man care about another humans life- as less as a pathetic woman's life more than his own.

he never understood that, until he met his little human- right you were his- theirs, he would end a whole nation if even one of their people dare to touch a single stand of your long delicate hair. and he knows his brother felt the same.

sukuna wanted to take you- have you, knot you with his seeds the moment he laid his dark eyes on you, his cock was hard-ragging demanding to fill your little pussy with his warm seeds, demanding to break your little pussy- tear it open with his two cocks.

his whole body filled with heat, as he stare at you bowing infornt of him- him and his brother, he was aware that his body was larger then any average human. but you- you were even smaller then an average human, he could take you right here, claim you right here and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it, just cry out as his fat cock stretch both of your holes out.

at first it would be painful for your pretty little pussy to take his fat cock- you would beg him to stop, choking on your sobs but as soon as he hits the sweet spot in your womb you would start drolling, brain high, as you beg him for more- beg him to tear your little ass with his other cock.

sukuna smirks at his thoughts, he couldn't help the dark deep laugh he let's out as he glance at his brother- his brother that was clearly thinking the same thing as him, as he stare at their little loyal maid.

sukuna knew you were someone who will serve him and worship him, live under his shadow. someone who would be playful with him and be bratty on purpose, seducing him so innocently. he wasn't ever interested in sexual intercourse, more like no one caught his attention enough to have him as much as glance at them.

he lost count on how many woman's head he had beheaded off because of their pathetic in tempt to seduce him- but here you are innocently sitting on his lap, dress drenched with his cursed bath water, revealing your hard nipples as you gently scrub on his skin not aware of his hard cocks that were ready to devour you.

he chuckled to himself, you were so naive that you thought his filthy brother was a gentleman- an Innocent man, but in reality itaodori was a filthy as much as he was , a man who would steal your cute little panties while he claimed that he wanted to "help" you with the laundries, a man who would beat his cock raw as he sniff on your panties, he would go as far as taking your used ones just to stroke his cock with it.

sukuna wasn't any better, he sighs to himself as he lean in to sniff your scent, he was obsessed with how soft your body was in his big arms, his body always relaxed like he's in cloud nine as soon as your rosy scent hit his nose, he growls pushing his face harder into your plumpy breast, brushing his nose softly on your exposed cleavage.

as the loyal submissive human you are, you don't deny him your body, you simply continue your work on him- your hands massaging his hard sculp, running your delicate fingers through his pink locks, making him groan into you- you can feel the vibration through your body.

oh how much he loved this.

you wake up heat- heat running through your whole body, through your veins, it was like you were on fire- fire of pleasure, it stings so bad yet so good, it's like your body was boiling under hot water, the heat source comes directly from your cunt.

you felt something huge, something wet, something warm, something rough- stroking your pussy. once. twice. third-

you lost count, to focused on the sensation of your pussy burning, it was so so warm, so so wet you couldn't help but arch your hips into it, wanting more, whining as you feel it leave burning trail from your pussy to your ass, stroking- no licking at your hole.

you finally snap your eyes open pulling yourself up, realization hit you, you weren't laying on the bed sheets you were laying on something hard, you look down just to make contact with dark eyes, pupils thin, filled with lust- eyes who belong to non other then your master sukuna.

your body slumps back into sukunas chest again, whimpering as you feel two long-thick fingers shoved up your tight ass hole, tearing through you, you felt a warm chest being pressed behind your back- you're being sandwiched between two hard, muscles ripped chests.

a warm tongue peak out, licking the shell of your ear, making you squirm on the wet thing under you- the wet thing was non other then sukunas mouth stomach.

"our baby woke up" your master itadori mutter out, his hot breath behind your ear, his nose softly brushing your neck, as he leaves wet-sloppy kisses inside your ear, this way the only thing you can hear was the wet noises his mouth made.

you feel sukunas stomach-tongue circling your ass before going back to your pussy shoving it completely inside your sore hole making you arch your back against itadori chest, screaming as the long wet tongue entered your walls.

"no- ngh no- no to much" you choke out a sob as you feel sukunas tongue hit your womb circling around your sensitive spot that drives you crazy, it was to slippery, to wet, you felt to stuffed with his huge stomach-tongue, thrusting so fast inside your pussy.

itadori was still licking on your ear- it was soaking wet-sloppy soaking with his spit, everything was to much, you couldn't hear anything other then the wet sounds of itadoris tongue, and the sloppy sounds of sukunas tongue entering you again and again and again.

sukunas two lower hands trail to your hips, kneading them in his large hands before he hashly lift you up and slam you down his tongue making you cry out, "ah- ah- master- please no more" you beg for mercy.

"shh i know, i know let master take care of the sweet pussy of yours" he purrs out, as he watches the way your juice coat his tongue dripping down his stomach- you tasted like honey and he couldn't get enough, his tongue selfishly lapping on every single corner inside your pussy.

"fuck she's gushing her juice all over you" itadori hot breath hits your wet ear as he darkly speaks out, causing you to finally lose it at the sensation as he plugs your ass with his finger shoving them deep inside.

you shake, body giving up as you land on sukuna your face hovering over his, pushing your pussy- your ass more into them, as soon as you see the way sukuna was staring at you so hungrily as he slams your pussy into his tongue and his brothers finger.

you squirt- gushing out clear liquid, crying out as you feel your whole body shake, fingers holding into your master sukuna for dear life. itadoris finger still inside of you, shoved deep but making no movement while sukuna crazily continue rocking your pussy into him.

"yes! yes! fucking give it to me! all of it" he growls out, two of his upper hands grab your hair and lean it to his face just to suck on your lips, while he continue his brutal movement on your sensitive pussy.

another orgasm rips out of you, you feel like you could pass out, your screams were muffled out by sukunas mouth as he sucks, leaving them red.

"god fucking girl" itadori stoke your back leaving kisses on your spine while sukuna finally slow his movement, ripping his mouth away from yours, just to lick the tears that left your eyes.

sukuna flip you over- so he was on top of you, slowly pulling his tongue out of your soaked pussy, eyes darken as he looks at the way it was so swollen, it was barely recognizable, it was wide open leaking your clear cum and his spit out, he purrs satisfied at the sight.

itadori doesn't know why did he agree on letting his brother have you, but looking at you right now he doesn't regret his decision one bit. shoving his finger inside your beat up cunt, making you whine before he shove it inside his mouth groaning at the filthy taste.

sukuna leans over to you pressing his forehead into yours, you stif as you feel a rock hard warm thing brush against your ass, you open your eyes glancing at sukuna- your eyes widen as you see- not one but two of his fat cocks lining against your hole.

"you're going to take it like a good girl for master" he growls out before he completely tear through your tight ass, ripping you apart. two of his hand-mouth that was holding your hips down, lick up your waist leaving a wet trail before landing on your nipples, trapping them in his mouth, suckling on the hard bud.

you were sure the bed was going to break, from how hard sukuna was thrusting into your ass, your voice was caught in your throat, eyes crossed, mouth hanging open causing spit to leave it.

"we can't leave your sweet mouth hanging empty like that" itadori coo at you as he swipe your drool with his finger before sucking it into his mouth, you glace at his hard cock that he was stroking precum leaking out of his reddish head, you moan out as you feel sukuna rock into you faster, causing your body to crash into itadoris from the force.

you feel his cock at your lips, and you immediately open your mouth wider welcoming him, lazily licking the head before slurping it into your mouth, focusing on it, coating it with your spit.

itadoris thighs shake, the way your tongue licked up his sensitive clit had him close to cumming undone, just as close as sukuna was.

"fill down her throat, I'm going to fucking fill this ass of hers" sukuna groan out as he slaps your ass with his other two hands, gripping your cheeks and spreading them wide to take a good look at how your tight ass was hungrily taking his fat cock.

your moan vibrate into itadoris huge cock and that has him spilling his hot cum down your throat with a loud moan, his brother soon follow him, filling your ass with every single last drop.

"fucking." thrust.

"take." thrust.

"it." thrust.

"all." thrust.

your mind was blank, every single hole of yours was filled with their cum- leaking with their cum, your body was twitching.

sukuna lean in to kiss your clit, while itadori kiss your nose. maybe after all they did have something in common.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ end ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ

: ̗̀➛ part 1 is 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[anantaru]

cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, rich boy au, rich boy alhaitham, semi public sex (in a library), he's insufferable, possessive (he's used to getting what he wants n wants you all for himself), a little yandere i feel like

rich boy alhaitham has never experienced the idea of not getting something he so terribly longed for— in fact, the very moment he laid his eyes on you, desire flooding his veins and invading his taste, it's with immediate certainty that he will make you his no matter what.

because you see, it has almost always been that way for him, the idea of something being too expensive has never really crossed his mind in his adult years— although it was safe to say that in order to make you stay forever, he must add more than the couple gifts he had already planned to send your way, such wasn't enough, despite the fact that they certainly would make things a whole lot more easier for him.

because who on earth doesn't like a costly, with diamonds paired piece of earrings from fontaine? hand crafted of immeasurable worth. or would you rather choose the extravagant silken garments from the nation of electro? oh, you forgot already silly? you're of course, getting both, it's on alhaitham after all.

he doesn't understand that this emotion growing in his heart might become quite dangerous in the future, although again, the man was of smart kind, highly aware of the power he held not only with his fortune alone, but his cleverness as well— and there would never be a time in his life where he couldn't utilize the one or the other, or use them all together to get the result he planned to achieve.

dear, dearer, dearest you, alhaitham ponders, as long as the sun was alive, as long as desire merges with his addiction,

"i will pursue you".

alhaitham knows that from the bottom of his heart, he will make you his, and not just have you for a short period of time during those special days— where two people simply let go of steam, soft fingertips glissading over the edges of sweaty skin as you're wrapped around his fingers, the slight swell of your lips, the strong blush on his cheeks, both vividly showing that the two of you cannot keep your hands away from each other.

as expected, you find yourself hidden behind a bookshelf in the house of daena, and alhaitham kisses you like he has been imagining it for decades on end, soft lips dancing over yours as he forces his tongue past your mouth, his hands greedily skimming through your trembling figure— soul catching soul, like each touch of him felt like it was searing through you, burning your clothes.

there, in those precise rolls of fingers repeatedly crossing your sensitive nipples, alhaitham makes himself acquainted with your trace as he graciously feels around the curves of your body and how well you reacted to his touch, kiss and tremble— an immediate reminder for him that you like it when he touched you like that, lapped his tongue over yours like that or pressed his muscular thigh against your wet cunt like that.

alhaitham was cruel in a way— one might even go as far as to assume that pairing an excessively clever man with a boundless amount of money harbors a much darker meaning in on itself.

but right now, he was slightly cruel to you as well when it becomes more and more painful and he knows, he always does, especially when he notices how you're having trouble breathing from his antics, quite wobbly on your footing as you look up at him through soft eyes, lips parted when each kiss of him made your heart clench, unknowing of everything, only waiting until he finally fucks you like you wanted to.

what you do not realize is that rich boy alhaitham was already weak for you, and he could barely wait himself, his mind fighting with his rationality, being overthrown by nothing more than the addictive scent of your perfume blossoming across the skin on your neck.

he flips you around instantly, your figure now squished between his chest and the bookshelf before he flicks your skirt up with ease, almost territorial like he's the only one allowed to do that from now on, frenziedly touching and loving your body like he needed you to breathe and stay alive, like it's only you who can make him be this way.

"ahh— fuck," he gasps into the back of your neck, his hot breath planing across the skin and manifesting a strong shiver down your spine, "i love those earrings on you," as he trails off, your hips twisting and twitching when he finds them with his hands, repeatedly pistoling his thick shaft into you until the lewd, squelching noises of skin on skin were overturning your little whimpers, smack smack smack, it's only getting louder— so alhaitham uses one hand to quickly close one palm around your noisy mouth.

he thinks it's adorable how you forgot that you were still in a library, yet it only showed him that he was doing everything right, only a little more until you're all his.

the scribe has got you covered, okay? alhaitham needs you to realize that from now on, you have nothing to worry about anymore, so please get that into your pretty head! you're far too delicate and pretty to trouble yourself with something such as stress, not anymore— because wether it was intimacy you craved, love you sought after or money you needed,

alhaitham has got you.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[girlsworldillusion]

I'd let the world burn for you

•

Summary: Amid the severe consequences of war, Aemond finds himself alone, without the presence and support of his young and sweet wife, who insists on staying away from him, afraid of who he has become. He has been a respectful and patient husband. But tonight he feels like he has finally reached his limit.

Author's note: Please, pay attention to the tags. This story contains sensitive topics, such as: +18, SEX, SEVERE INTERNAL CONFLICT, DUB-CON/NON-CON, POSSESSIVE/OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, EMOTIONAL DEPENDENCY, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP AND MORE.

word count: 6k

There is no specific description of which house the reader belongs to, so feel free to fill this in as you wish.

English is not my native language, forgive me for any spelling mistakes.

Good reading!

He can taste vomit in his esophagus.

Aemond knows it wouldn't be too difficult to get out what little he ate. He coughs as discreetly as he can into the back of his hand before taking off his eye patch, wanting to splash some cold water on his face and throat. He pretends not to notice how his hands are a little shaky as he pulls the gloves off of them, cupping his fingers inside the basin left by the servants on the table. The cool water feels refreshing on his hot skin, and with a satisfied hiss, he looks up, staring directly at the reflection of his own face in the mirror.

The flickering flames of the fire near the wall provide no comprehensive illumination, and he is honestly relieved by that. What little he can see is disturbing enough. His single lilac eye is bloodshot, his silver hair is disheveled, so different from normal. Paleness in the face, sunken cheeks. The subtle glow of the blue stone in his other eye and the deep scars around it only add a dying touch to his ghostly visage.

Another deep tug wracks his stomach and he leans forward, gripping the sides of the table with abandon, preparing to actually throw up this time. But nothing comes, nothing but the painful, nauseating feeling in his body.

He can't forget.

It's all his doing, after all. It's all his fault.

The death of all those people, the desolation of the entire Riverlands. It's all his fault.

Any feeling of greatness and power that previously inhabited his body no longer existed. His superiority and confidence swept away by the tide until he was spat out on the shore with nothing but pain and trauma.

He is a hypocrite and he knows it.

Aemond is not a good person. He doesn't want to fool anyone with his anxiety attack, he definitely doesn't need to take on the role of the poor regretful guy. He doesn't regret what he did, he doesn't regret doing what was absolutely necessary for the good of his family. He could never regret this. And he knows that tomorrow, a week from now, or a month from now, he will do exactly the same thing again if necessary. There are no limits to what he is willing to do to and for those to whom he is loyal.

He can't even dare deny liking it all.

When he's on Vhagar's saddle, with the world in flames just beneath them and the addictive power to decide for good or ill for those poor, hopeless souls, he can swear he's never felt anything better. There's something disturbingly liberating about embracing the monster that resides in his chest. It's surprising to him how good it feels to be ruthless, to take on the role of the uncontrollable beast everyone says he is (rightfully so).

It wasn't always like this. But a series of violent and tragic actions that may or may not have been intentional earned Aemond more than just an ominous codename. They gave him respect; fear. Aemond One-Eye, the son without expectations, the child without any prominence. No more.

He feels ruthless when he is in the skies, dictating the fate of humanity. It gives him power. He is powerful now, he is no longer the boy forgotten by everyone. The feeling of being superior pumps hard through his veins until he goes wild, makes him feel like he's crushing people under the soles of his boots. He is more powerful. Their lives depend solely on the way his hand moves and it turns out that, to their misfortune and terror, his hands are wrapped around the saddle of the largest dragon in the world. It is difficult to be sensible and godly when there is so much power at his command. He is more powerful. There is nothing that can stop him. He feels invincible, unstoppable. He doesn't just enjoy it - he worships this feeling.

At least until it's all over.

When the dust settles and all that is left is the consequence of his actions, it is then that he quietly withers away.

He killed them. All of them. His hands are stained with blood and ash and it's all his fault. He has separated families forever, traumatized so many souls with insurmountable depression and pain and it is all his fault. Adults, elderly, children, babies. All dead. Because of him. Hoarse screams of terror and fear, all begging for a mercy that would never come - could never come. Not by his hands. Not when he had a family and a purpose he was so loyal to.

Aemond worships the sense of power that comes with a reputation for being ruthless and regrets nothing he has done and will do for his duty. Unfortunately, this does not mean that he does not suffer the consequences in equal proportion.

Another sigh. He drops his head and presses his fingers against the edge of the table. He closes his eye so tightly that patches of white light explode into his vision, each labored breath makes him lean forward and clench his teeth. The pain is impossible to ignore – it shakes his insides, leaves his limbs trembling.

"Is this hurting you?" a soft voice asks, a small, fragile thing, almost impossible to hear - if it weren't for the fact that he lives to hear the sound of that voice. He knows this, and so does the owner of the voice, both fully aware of this dangerous dependence. “Pretending to be a God, I mean.”

Aemond feels his heart beat faster, the angelic sound of your voice rescuing him from the merciless depths of his own mind, making him slowly raise his head as he stares at the place where the voice came from. He almost can't believe what he heard. But there you are, sitting on your bed, surrounded by comfortable sheets and pillows, your wide doe eyes catching the moonlight and fire flames in the dark of night, shining like stars.

His sweet wife.

He simply looks at you, not offering any kind of response right away. Not because he doesn't want to. But because he's too surprised to hear your voice and see your face to form words at the moment. Aemond doesn't know how he ended up here, in your private chambers - the place he hasn't been welcome in for some time. He was supposed to go to his chambers. Was he that distraught and distracted? Could the confusion clouding his senses have unconsciously led him directly to the person he needs most at the moment?

He looks around quickly just to confirm that, yes, there is no doubt that he is in your chambers. He didn't intend to do that. He shouldn't be here, invading your privacy and ignoring your request that he keep distance. Of course, his longing and need for you made him consider such a thing countless times. Regardless of your wishes, he was your husband; he had a right to be here. But he never did that. You don't want him in your bed anymore and you've made that clear. And Aemond was not ignorant or even insensitive enough to pretend not to understand your reasons. You had a lot of them and he knows.

You were not made for cruelty. Your innocence and purity made you unable to be aware of the horrible things he did and still treat him the same way as before. You were afraid of him now, just like everyone else. The blood of many was on his hands and you knew it, just as you knew he regretted nothing, and that he would not stop this - not until victory was achieved.

You didn't agree with that, you never did, not even before the marriage. But what could a young woman do in the world they lived in? You were just a piece on a board game, an ace up his sleeve used by your father specifically to provide armies and loyalty to the crown in exchange for a marriage and a more than convenient name for your family.

Aemond knew from the beginning that you didn't want to marry him; how could you after all? You barely knew him beyond the questionable reputation that surrounded him, and a dangerous family clash was about to break out in the kingdom - this was definitely not the right environment for romance to blossom. But you did your duty. You had been an exemplary wife in the short two months of peace that followed your marriage. You treated him with respect and patience, slowly opening your heart to him with each passing day. He wasn't the most talkative or the most sensitive husband and yet you showed empathy for his limitations, accepting what he gave you with gentle smiles and rosy cheeks, without demanding anything more. So sweet. So inocent.

It was no surprise the feeling that welled up in his chest.

Aemond was obsessed before he even realized it. Needing your gentle attentions like a flower needs the sun. He clung to you as his only comfort in an almost bleak existence, he became more and more obsessed with you and you didn't notice. You read with him, walked through the gardens with him and talked to him as you always did, kind and polite. And every day he felt hungrier, pushing the limits of restraint. You welcomed him into your bed every night, welcoming him between your legs as if he belonged there - and he did, indeed. Aemond's appetite for you and you alone knew no bounds.

But he wasn't the man you married anymore, was he?

You fear him now, any and all advances he's made with you over the past few months have vanished into thin air like the ashes he's so used to seeing now. The feelings he was carefully cultivating in your chest now seem to have sunk so deep into your being that he thinks they no longer even exist. You no longer craved his attention; the touch of softness and affection, whenever “husband” dripped from your mouth, was absent. And now all he could do was want.

Aemond doesn't look away from you, not wanting to miss this moment for anything, not after being deprived of it for so long. And you look back at him from where you sit on the bed, chin lifted in false courage. You looks at him with your bright eyes and high cheekbones, which seem even more highlighted in the warm lighting around your bodies.

He may have entered your chambers out of pure unconscious instinct, out of nothing but silent desperation. His body guiding him when his mind no longer could. But now that he's here, he doesn't know how he didn't realize it from the beginning. It's impossible to think about anything other than you. You, you, you.

At this point, deaths at his hands no longer existed. Not his pains or the weights he carries, not revenge, not duty. Anything. Absolutely nothing. There is only this moment, between him, a boy who so wanted to be enough for those he loves and the young girl who is illuminated by the light of the flames.

He feels it. It's not new. That strange impulse that draws all the attention of the environment around him to you and you alone; an almost painful need between his teeth to take a bite and not let go, to have it with all your heart and nothing less.

"Nothing to say?" You press and he's not even embarrassed by the fact that he doesn't remember what you said before. He should leave. It's all he thinks, even as he takes an uncertain step closer to your bed. And that's enough for you to immediately tense up, wrapping your small hands in the sheets to subtly pull them towards you. You are hiding yourself. Hiding yourself from him.

Aemond should leave, continue respecting your limits.

If this had been another night, maybe he would have done it. If the smell of smoke and dragon scales hadn't been trapped in the leather of his war clothes, as well as the dust of ash, then perhaps he could have left. If he couldn't smell the insistent scent of charred bodies and decimated land in his nostrils, taking permanent root in his lungs, perhaps he could respect your innocence.

Not even Aemond knew how on edge he already was. Your refusal of his proximity was just the final push to his downfall.

He adores you. He worships the ground you walk on. He respected your decisions and stayed away much longer than any other husband would have done. And this is how you repay him?

Aemond narrows the only functional eye he has left. You don't react, nothing more than another protective grip on the sheets and a slow swallow of saliva. He wants you so much and the thought enrages him. Why? Why does he feel this way? He desperately wants to punish you for making him feel this way. He wants to punish himself for even thinking about doing this to you.

You left him like this; nothing but a mess. When would you finally accept him for who he is? When would you understand that some cruelties were necessary for the final goal to be achieved? When would you see that everything he did and would do was solely for his family? For you. To keep you safe. When would he be enough?

He grits his teeth and feels his entire body tense with thoughts. He hates it; he hates the way you confuse him and make him feel all these terrible emotions. It makes he feels weak. The temptation of the slightest chance of your affection suffocates his common sense. He feels his hands shaking. He'd been so blinded by the hopeful, innocent vision he constantly saw you through that he fooled himself into thinking he was on your mind as much as you were on his all this time.

"Aemond?" You whisper, sounding more uncertain than before, disturbed by his extended silence as he slowly approaches the bed. He keeps looking at you the whole time, letting you glimpse the flames of fire reflected in the icy sapphire in his eye. He adores you, with every fiber of his being. But the flash of fear that shines in your eyes in response makes him stretch the corner of his lip in a malicious smile. He couldn't help it, there's something sweet and pure about you that makes him constantly waver between wanting to protect you and wanting to destroy you.

You try not to weaken before him, but Aemond immediately notices the way your body is a little trembling when his hand, that same hand that drags the musk of leather and death, passes through the fabric of the sheets, spreading lightning over your legs. You don't stop him, but your eyes flash with a frightened warning, a warning he ignores tonight. His palm flattens against your ribs, daring to caress, to feel the linen of the sheets beneath his fingers, the softness of your flesh beneath it, and you squeak an off-key sound, pulling the cocoon of blankets and furs up to hide you.

A small annoyed growl leaves his lips and his other hand quickly covers yours, stopping you from continuing.

"No. Enough of that." He says in a low but firm tone, looking sternly into your eyes. You part your lips, surprised by his behavior, and try to pull the hand still trapped by his, but he doesn't let you go. "That's enough, wife."

He thinks you might try to deny it, but you fall silent, slowly relaxing against his grip on your hand. Aemond wants to purr at this, wants to praise you and spoil you, because you are so good, so good. His good girl. Even when you're crushing his heart between your delicate hands.

It's not your fault, he tells himself. It's not your fault that he's obsessed with you, driven crazy by the idea of you. Aemond can't even focus properly, even when you're in front of him, defenseless and at the mercy of his whims. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest from pure ecstasy and excitement at the same time. And he can feel, on top of it all, the blood flowing to his hard cock, making it swell beneath his black riding pants. He feels embarrassed by his actions, but at the same time excited, just by the little things you do, by everything you are to him.

“Something is wrong with me...” He says, more to himself than to you, gently pushing a strand of your soft hair behind your ear, sliding his thumb in a gentle caress across your delicate earlobe. “You're in my house. You're in my house and I don't want you to leave. Never." He approaches your face, sliding his fingers from your ear to the side of your face, until he holds your small chin between his thumb and forefinger. "I need you." He continues, ignoring how honest and frank he looks - weak. “I keep thinking of ways to make this happen,” the more he talks, the faster you breathe, sweet little sighs near his lips, calling to him like a siren’s song… “I want to ruin you. Because I think that's the only way you won't leave me."

The intensity of his words scares you, he realizes, he sees how your eyes fill with tears and your eyebrows twitch. But even in the dim lighting of the flames, he can see how the tops of your cheeks turn red, how your chest trembles with the breath that catches there...you want him.

It's a shame you're so willing to keep him away.

But he can't stop.

Aemond closes the distance in an instant, pushing you down until he traps your body beneath his, feeling the contours of your soft, supple curves against him; he shudders. He caresses your face one last time before moving down, ignoring your hesitation and your useless efforts to push him away. Quick as a viper, he grabs the hand that moves to push against his chest, wrapping it with the other still attached to his, holding your wrists tightly above your head.

You cry out at the pressure on his wrists, the long lashes over your eyes fluttering, pleading. "A-Aemond, what are you doing?" you stutter. "Please, please... I said I needed it - please give me some more-"

"Time? Oh yes, you said it." He hums thoughtfully, placing a thigh between your legs, dipping his face into the crook of your neck to breathe in the fresh fragrance of your shower, snoring contentedly with your naturally sweet scent. Intoxicated by your scent, he trails his lips along the slender column of your neck before stopping at the shell of your ear. “I’m so sorry, dear, I’ve waited too long. We’ve both waited too long.” He intones, intoxicated by your presence. You sob once but don't say anything else, choosing to turn your face away from him. Aemond snorts a laugh at that, but doesn't stop you, preferring to leave a tender, wet kiss on your cheek.

Squeezing your wrists with one hand, he allows the other to slide slowly down your body, almost reverentially. He paused at the delicate laces holding the front of your nightdress before untying them with deft fingers. The front opens, exposing your silky, flushed skin to his hungry gaze. He doesn't have the patience to remove the fabric completely from your body, so he just lowers it enough so that your breasts are exposed. He bites his lip, holding a curse between his clenched teeth. When he presses his bare palm to your perky breasts, he tastes your trembling innocence, your soft flesh.

So beautiful.

So pure.

From the beginning you were his opposite, your delicate hands, as irritatingly clean as his are stained with blood and ash.

As much as he truly suffers from the consequences of his actions, he never regrets them, because he knows they are right - necessary. There was only the future to shape, the past should stay where it belongs; behind him. Something he had learned through much pain, but unfortunately, his sweet wife had not yet. But as he runs his greedy fingers down your body, feeling the goosebumps on your soft skin with each touch, Aemond knows he scares you as much as he excites you. You can't hide it from him. Your obviously involuntary response to him only makes him fiercer, hungrier. He wants to ruin you from the inside, until you can't bear to live a single day without his touch.

He allows you to continue your theatrics, still stubbornly staring at the wall while pretending his actions don't affect you. There's something almost too tempting about it, in fact; It's a matter of honor for him. He will break your masks and he will take pleasure in doing so.

Letting his fingers slide down your sides, Aemond's lips wander. He kisses the hole in your throat, moving down with wet, licked breaths to your breasts, tasting you. You gasp softly and grip tight fists on the bed sheets when he captures a soft nipple with a slow suck of lips and a teasing scrape of teeth, your body curling beneath him tightly. He smiles with your nipple still between his lips, leaving wide, warm trails of his tongue on the little perky bud. His hips slide against the inside of your parted thighs, pushing the hardened bulge in his pants against your pussy once.

You bite your lip and close your eyes, but he doesn't stop. With another thrust he uses his strength to push you back onto the bed, the bed you shared many nights with him, to fuck you into the warm sheets. It's almost too much for him to finally feel your little pussy once again, even through the leather of his pants and your delicate nightwear. But he continues with slow, strong thrusts, rubbing his cock against you in a way that teases your clit, the smell and heat of his effort wafting throughout his body; sweat, dragon, fire, ash, blood, death - all mixed together, merging with your own sweet, intoxicating scent and, of course, the unmistakable scent of sex.

Before the chaos broke out, Aemond was quite skilled at this, at driving you crazy. A part of him is extraordinarily pleased to find that he still remembers correctly, especially when a press of his fingers and a twirl of his thumb on your slobbery nipple makes you gasp. He wants to see you, to see you blush and sweat, looking ruined for him. Gods, oh yes, Aemond wants this so much. He can't stop, he can never stop, especially with you singing so sweetly to him. When you arch into his touch and whisper his name softly, like a secret no one can discover, his breath hitching. Aemond can't stop.

A specific thrust makes you let out a high-pitched meow, your hands pulling at the linen on the sheets and he moans along, releasing your breast with a wet pop to look at your face. You have your lips parted, your long eyelashes touching the top of your cheeks, your eyebrows furrowed in sweet agony. He thrusts a little faster, rubbing your clit with more pressure, taking in your presence and the feeling of your tiny, supple body, preening at every sound that leaves your lips.

Sounds so sweet, so beautiful; he considers himself a sinner with the way something so innocent and angelic makes his blood boil and his cock throb with need inside his pants, surely soaking the fabric with the way he feels himself leaking.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me, baby...”

And yet, he doesn't think he cares about dying by your hands when things turn out like this. He is admitting defeat without any embarrassment now; he can bear the dull weight of war, he can bear his own mind trying to destroy him at every turn, he can bear the betrayal of his own family and the demands of his duties. He can bear with anything.

Anything except being without you.

With an impatient grunt, his fingers tug at the soft skirt of your nightdress, bunching the thing at your waist as he rips your underwear down your legs. You don't try to stop him, but you don't try to help him either, remaining almost motionless against the bed, and he feels like he can growling at you like an animal for that - stubborn girl. He hates and loves this about you in equal intensity. He's almost rough and punishing as he hooks the back of your knee into the inside of his elbow, pushing your leg up to your breasts. And then you're giving up your fight, sighing - all anxious expression, furrowing your eyebrows and biting your lip as he hurriedly unzips his pants and pulls them down just enough to pull his cock out, slamming the wet, throbbing head over your clit before sliding his entire length along your folds.

You moan, he moans. The slide is wet and he can't tell if it's all you, if it's all him, if it's all both. He doesn't care, honestly. All that matters is how his cock is thrusting into your heat, hitting your clit with luscious pokes, coaxing more of those sweet sounds from your pretty lips.

He hooks your other leg in the crook of his elbow and does exactly what he did with the other, trapping you between him and the bed in a position where your entire pussy is presented to him. With his hands flat beside your head, he brings his face closer to yours, the leather covering his chest pushing your knees further into your breasts. You moan through your teeth, unable to do anything but tighten your hands around his shoulders. He smiles slowly, drunk on the sensations, still gently sliding the length of his cock into your folds.

Aemond doesn't look away from you, enchanted by the way you dance between looking at the sapphire stone and the deep lilac of his functional eye. You've always done this, he thinks - saying one was as beautiful as the other, impossible to choose.

“I’m giving myself to you, love…I’m yours.” He whispers softly, husky, needy to you. "Will you do the same from now on?"

He’s so close he feel how your heart races violently at his words, slamming against your ribcage as you take a deep breath. Every expression on your flushed face makes him sure you're going to have an intense crying fit, but even when the liquid in your eyes pours down the side of your eyes, you keep yourself almost in one piece. You look deeply into his eye as your shoulders shake. "Y-yes." You exhale, fragile. “Yes, yes, yes,” your voice sings repeatedly, with quick, confused nods, tears streaming from your eyes.

He can't hold back the husky sound that leaves his lips, his cock pulsing in reaction to your obvious fragility exposed to him.

"Yeah?" He asks breathlessly and it's very slow - as he thrusts inside you, thrusting his hips back and forth once, twice, three times until your pussy swallows as much of his cock as it can, until the tip of his hip bones rub it against your thighs. And it's so intense, so obscene – the position he puts you in, the full weight of his body pinning you to the bed, broad shoulders hiding you from view, silver hair like a curtain around the two of you, your mouth falling open in a silent scream and his releasing small curses between clenched teeth... debauchery.

You give his shoulders a few desperate slaps as he fills you, your tight ring of muscle stretched to accommodate his girth, and no matter how long it takes him to prepare you, no matter how wet you are, he knows there's always that initial pain that rips through your groin as he pushes into you. It makes you sway beneath him, little tearful sobs that are like the sweetest song to him.

Another curse muttered in deep Valyrian was his only warning as his palms sink into the softness of the bed. Your own hands looking desperate too, one tangled in the silver base of his hair at the back of his neck and the other gripping the material of his leather shirt, a strangled moan catching in your throat as he begins to fuck you slowly. You can only hold on as he pulls and pushes his body above you with each deep thrust, his impatience shown only in the forceful and violent way in which his hands grip the bed sheets.

He leans into you a little more, moving his hips in different ways, testing the angles until he makes more of those tears well up in your eyes as your pleasure increases almost painfully. Your moans quickly turn into babbling when a particularly strong movement of his hips makes you shake all over. The way your tight pussy tries to contain him and suck him in at the same time drives him crazy, feral.

He won't last long. He already knew this before it even started, but now, feeling your walls squeezing the life out of him after so long deprived of it, with your cute little noises getting louder and louder, with your expression drunk with lust and sadness, the buzz of battle still vibrating through his veins... Aemond feels release approaching shamefully fast for him.

He'll make it up to you later, Aemond promises himself. When the hot need subsides at least a little in his system, he'll take off his dirty war clothes, maybe ask you to take a shower with him. He'll soap your body and tease you until you're riding his cock in the tub at your own pace, his fingers rolling your little clit with each bounce of your hips. He will lay you on the bed and love every inch of your soft body, worship your skin with kisses and hickeys. He will part your thighs and bury his fingers and tongue in your wet softness. He will rip orgasm after orgasm out of you until you are hoarse from screaming, until your body is physically unable to continue.

He will do it all.

He has done it in the past, many times.

Now, however, all he needs is to find his release, to unload those months of forced distance inside his trembling body. But Aemond will be damned if he doesn't bring you along with him.

He leans down to press his forehead against yours, pushing your legs against your body further, lips parting with hoarse, breathless moans that escaped him with each thrust and the sweet pleas you murmured incoherently. The movement of his hips quickens, one hand leaving its blunt grip on the sheets to squeeze between your thighs, poking your clit in tight circles, his cock hitting a spot inside your walls that makes you shiver and tremble in anticipation.

“Aemond…” you cry, digging your nails into the back of his neck, pulling his body towards yours, as if you weren’t already physically as close as possible.

He growls at your plea.

“My little, innocent wife,” Aemond giggles wildly as your pussy clamps down on his length again, your climax approaching, his thumb rotating a steady rhythm on your clit. If only your mind was clear enough to form a coherent thought, maybe you'd complain that the rhythm of his cock in your pussy would be painful, that the continuous and harsh scratching of his clothes hurts the soft and delicate flesh of your body, but you don't say anything, not now. You just accept what he gives you. And he knows you missed him as much as he missed you. “Always so good to me baby.”

Aemond watches you intently, unable to look away from the pleasure that shows on your face. You're shaking, lost in your wet breaths and high-pitched, broken cries, your legs trapped between his body, welcoming him. You're tight and small, his sweet wife, and Aemond can feel your cracks stretching, a spider's web of fractured thought and temptation too much for anyone to bear, and as much as he knows it's impossible, he wants this moment to last forever. Aemond is undone. A fool in love. And it's sad. And it's beautiful. It's being at home.

"Mine." His murmur echoes next to your lips, both of you breathing each other's breath, his rhythm starting to falter, the searing heat rushing through his body beneath those layers of heavy clothing makes him dizzy, but he doesn't stop, he doesn't stop. “So pure, so beautiful, so delicate…” he caresses your clit without faltering with a rumbling purr as his cock swells inside you. “Ngh...oh fuck, so tight. You're going to get everything, aren't you, darling? All of me.” His own teeth graze your neck as you arch and scream in pleasure. “Be a good girl and don't let anything leak, hmmm…”

He fucks you roughly, your name dancing on his lips like a prayer in the dark. Aemond savors this moment with the veneration it deserves, the final chase. The two of you so broken, so vulnerable, shaking with pleasure for each other. He rubs your pussy, hips slamming into you at lightning speed.

And finally, gods yes, it finally happens.

"Aemond! A-Aemond, please! Please-" You throw your head back, your lewd pleas turning into a broken scream as you explode around him. Your face is flushed and glistening with a subtle sheen of sweat, tears streaming down. It's all he can take. You convulse and break and the sensation of his cock swelling with the resulting explosions of hot cum filling you follows shortly after. As your body and pussy tremble and clench, he finally releases his own pleasure, biting down hard on your shoulder to muffle his husky moans, spilling himself deep inside you, the continuous spasms of your orgasm milking every drop from him. You and he cum together, and even in the hazy haze of climax, he thinks he's never experienced something so sublime, so perfect.

You're both shaking as you come down from the waves of mutual pleasure, and Aemond is especially careful now, gently unfolding your legs from that tight position to allow you to stretch them, which earns him a long, grateful, relieved moan. He slowly pulls away until he's kneeling between your thighs, watching raptly as you bite your lip as his cock leaves your heat. A tight grip circles around your parted thighs, lifting them up a little to expose your dripping pussy. He looks almost in awe as he watches his seed flow steadily from your abused pussy.

But Aemond is selfish and his cum doesn't belong on the crumpled, sweaty sheets. No, he told you to keep it safe inside you and that's what would happen. His fingers slip into the wet mess of cum in your folds, pushing as gently as he can all the thick liquid inside you again.

You're too tired to react, but you still sob softly at the sensation, subtly squirming on the bed, legs shaking from being held in the same position for so long. He looks at you, icy lilac gaze half-lidded with lust, blue stone glowing in the flames of the fire. He looks at the soft, creamy flesh of your sweaty body. He longs to see dark spots and bite marks, a way of proving that you belong to him. He lifts his head, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh, just above your left breast. His teeth leave crescent moons on your skin and you scream loudly at the stinging sensation, but you don't stop him. He walks away, admiring the constellations he had traced on your skin. Painting you for him, marking you as something unique to him.

You sniffle and blink wet eyelashes at him. He kisses his bite, murmuring gentle words to you, his lips trailing up with soft sucks and wet kisses in your throat until he brushes against your lips. And it's then, and only then, that he realizes he hasn't kissed you yet. He doesn't know why he didn't do it, given that it's probably the thing he misses most about you. Feeling the softness of your lips on his, the gradual way a small, innocent kiss quickly evolves into something more urgent, the way you immediately struggle to keep up with his pace, his hunger as he swallows your cute sighs and your ragged breaths as he suck your tongue.

Yes. This is what Aemond longs for. How easily he could make you fall apart in his hands.

Taking into account the way that you blush and look down at his lips, you're thinking the same thing. He smiles mischievously, slowly leaning in for a deep kiss, fingers damp with your juices and his cum resting on your jawline. Your little hands sink into his hair until you lightly scrapes your nails across his scalp, making Aemond shudder. The fingers of his other hand cup your hip, tracing the line of the bone in gentle patterns. His nose bumps yours as his tongue dances in your hot mouth, spreading in you the taste of smoke and revenge that seems to follow him at absolutely every moment now. And like his perfect antithesis, you gasp, let him savor your sweet, fruity flavor - so fuckin sweet.

Your legs circle his waist, making him press against your heat, quickly reigniting the flame of need within him. You lick it off his tongue, moan when he sucks your bottom lip and bites it, you beg between quick breaths and Aemond continues to rub himself against you, the kiss becoming sloppier, driving him crazy with how irresistible you are in this state. You give yourself completely to Aemond, without asking questions or making new complaints, and it drives him crazy.

"You are mine. Only mine. And you will never leave me again, do you understand?" He murmurs as he pulls away, both of you panting, looking seriously into your water-bright eyes, noting how they're a little wide and your mouth is swollen and wet from his kisses.

A few tears slide down your face, but you smile shakily at him, the hand in his hair stroking the silver strands lovingly.

"I am yours, Aem. Now and forever." Honesty bleeds into your shallow voice, your little fingers on your other hand tentatively tangling with the buckles of his shirt to open it.

Aemond rests his forehead against yours and truly smiles for the first time in a long, long time. Not a malicious, mocking or condescending smile... No, this time his lips are stretched into a small, but genuine, honest smile.

And it's because of you.

Because he knows he got what he wanted so much. He has you again. He was resilient, he was patient and he was fair. He fought and, with his efforts, created a space just for himself within your heart. He knows you're still unhappy with everything that's going on, and no matter how much he wants to, he can't change that. He can only strengthen you to bear it. It can only burrow deeper into your body and your heart until you are able to forget the atrocities that are happening around you - the horrible things that he is doing. It's a gaping hole in your chest that leaves you continually bleeding, he knows, but the exposed cut is so sweet, and here he is, licking the wound like an animal, with all the violent, relentless gentleness he has to offer as the vengeful prince that he is.

He wraps his arms around you, pushing his cock back into your abused pussy in a deep movement that draws a broken sound from both of you, pulling you against his chest. He rubs his sweaty face against your throat, your face, your hair. His voice syrupy and thick as he whispers, "I love you."

Fuck. Aemond would never let you go.

[retroellie]

Polluted

Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.

A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)

Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer

Word count: 1.9K

Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.

You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.

Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.

"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."

His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.

You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.

"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"

You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.

One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.

"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"

His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.

"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."

You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.

"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"

You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.

You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.

"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."

Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.

"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."

You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.

"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"

Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.

"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.

Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.

"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom. 

You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.

[lizziesribbons]

So badly |

PAIRING: RICH STEPMOM! WANDA X FEM! READER

summary: Wanda is your dad's new wife and an incredibly talented business woman, you always liked her but you felt as if she didn't feel the same way about you, she was always cold with you truth be told you were too innocent to know what the real intentions behind the coldness was.

warnings: ****MINORS DNI***** *****MEN DNI***** ****CONTAINS SMUT LOTS OF SMUT****** degradation kink, hair pulling, praising, angst if you squint, mommy kink, r being head over heels in love with Wanda, Wanda being mean too mean but hot. SO HOT. squirting muahahaha, multiple orgasms, crazy crazy gay peOple, everyone's gay y'all are gay, gay gay gay. I need to drown in holy water cuz um yea.

author's note: I changed EVERYTHING CHANGED I don't know if y'all even know who I am but like anyways idek if this is gonna be a thing I just got an idea and I wrote it in my notes and now I'm posting here ‼️

Word count: 2.1k

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Wanda maximoff.

She was an intimidating woman. even her name is hot? When your dad first introduced her you immediately fell in love whenever she was around you were always squirming in her gaze, she was just too pretty too perfect. Too good for your dad. Your dad wasn't the best man in the world he was alright, he was always working always travelling he didn't have time for you or anything else that's why you were shocked when he brought her. Wanda.

Wanda was a business woman too. A successful one indeed, She had 2 twins Tommy and billy, who you instantly grew to love, you wondered how Wanda handled all of it, A husband, A business and still making enough time for her kids, she was like a super mom there was no single doubt her kids loved her. And she loved them.

Your dad was barely home so it was always just you Wanda and the twins, you never felt like Wanda liked you whenever you would try talking to her she would give you cold responses, always looking into your soul like she was angry at you. She would constantly taunt you whenever you would go outside with your friends and come home too late, or when you wore something a little too revealing. Some would say she was possessive you just thought of it as her being her grumpy self

but what you didn't know, Wanda wanted you. Every second of every day she thought about you but she knew it was wrong. so she would put up this act to hide her secret. her dirty little secret, no one except Wanda knew what kind of thoughts ran through her mind, what she did at night thinking about you when her husband was asleep beside her.

she thinks about how her fingers would feel inside you, making you scream her name, whispering all kinds of dirty things in your sweet little ears

how good it would feel to fuck you with her strap until you couldn't take it anymore, she often gets off thinking about you but you weren't aware of any of it. She sometimes thought you knew cause of how you would bend over in front of her wearing the most smallest skirts possible but she knew you were just as innocent as you look, she also knew about the crush you have on her, it was too obvious with how you would look inside her shirt every time she bent down to pick something, how quickly you would respond every time she calls for you, how flustered you would get when she's around. she wasn't blind she could see right through you.

You were always home nowadays as your college was off and your friends were either on vacation with their family or they just didn't have time. Wanda had a business event today on which she asked you to come with her as the twins were at their dad's and you would be home alone, she even picked up an outfit for you, it was a cute black dress simple and elegant not too small just how Wanda liked. She was so sweet with you today. too sweet. even offered to make your hair and do your makeup and you let her. cuz how could you deny it? you let her dress you up like you were her personal doll she gave you a kiss on the cheek that made you blush so hard Wanda immediately noticed and smirked.

the car ride from the house to where the event was being held was filled with tension. Wanda's eyes were constantly on you eating you up she noticed the way you clenched your thighs under her gaze and how you shied away every time you two would make eye contact, when you reached the destination, Wanda opened the door for you holding out her hand to you. Your fingers intertwined with hers following her between the crowd of people.

You insisted on staying behind as she went on the red carpet. admiring her you noticed how beautiful Wanda really is, she is hand-crafted by the gods you wondered how it would feel to touch her. every inch of her body you wanted to kiss her so bad the urge to do it was strong. Wanda noticed, Ofc she noticed she smirked knowing your gaze was on her and all her attention too, you looked at her coming back to you as you straightened your back and smiled at her, she held you by your waist and told you "I want you to meet some people malaysh" the nickname made you weak. you just wanted to fall on your knees and beg Wanda but you couldn't.

After meeting those people Wanda left you alone to go and sort some business deal you didn't care about. Wanda saw you laughing and chatting with some people she thought it was nice you were getting along well, until. she saw this girl put her hand on your thigh and getting too touchy. Wanda felt something burst inside her she interrupted the conversation she was having came behind you and pulled you back from your waist making you push yourself into her crotch.

Wanda looked at the girl and raised her eyebrows, the girl was out of there in a second. It was hot. so hot the power Wanda holds, you were about to ask what that was when suddenly you felt her fingers hold your ass tightly as she whispered in your ear "Stop flirting with every person you see just to get my attention" Your legs failed you as you moan slowly in wanda's grasp, her hold was bruising on you as she whispered again "don't be a whore now, go wait in the car I'll be there in a bit"

as you were waiting for her impatiently in the car and afraid of what to expect next, you heard the car door open and Wanda got in, you didn't say anything. not even a word. her too. the car ride was silent. so silent you could even hear your heartbeat and it was fast. you were sure Wanda heard it

after getting home Wanda softly told you to go and wait in her bedroom like a good girl and you did. not cuz you were a patient woman no no no you were the most impatient girl in the world according to Wanda but you just wanted to make her happy.

after a bit she came in. You saw a bulge inside her pants. looking up at her, sitting on the bed on all your fours she came up to you and held your jaw softly

"you look so good like that, on mommy's bed like a good little slut" Wanda wouldn't be at fault if she thought you came right there, and then because of the moan you let out on the nickname Wanda referred to herself as. but she shrugged it off only smirking at the sight

"strip. slowly." you start striping taking off your dress first, Wanda's eyes on you as she starts undressing herself too making you gasp at the sight of her.

"you're so beautiful," you said as you worshipped her body just by your eyes, giving herself a moment or two to smile and blush at your compliment, she said sternly "Less talking, let's put that mouth to better use yeah?"

she took off her pants and underwear revealing a scarlet strap attached to her as you look at it and drool "Open up show mommy how good of a slut you can be" she said as you open your mouth tongue out, she guide the strap inside your mouth not even half of it and you were already gagging, it was bigger than anything you've taken before but Wanda didn't care, your gags and whimper were music to her ears.

losing herself in the pleasure she started thrusting inside your mouth as you sat there drooling, she threw a sadistic smile your way and said "I think we just found the perfect way to keep your mouth shut"

Wanda pulls out suddenly, your face covered in sweat and tears, and lays down on the bed

"come here ride my strap," she said patting her lap, gasping for air your breath shaky from the previous encounter you said

"y yes mommy"

slowly, you lower yourself onto her strap, your eyes locked with hers as you whispered "It's too big"

Wanda pouted her lips with fake pity "Aw is it?" you nodded as she looked at you "Is it too big for my little whore huh?" you nodded again not breaking eye contact

"fucking say it then. you can speak" Wanda said sternly placing a sharp slap on your ass, just as you were about to say Wanda force your hips down onto her strap "Too late" You bit your lip feeling her strap penetrate deeper into your wet slit

"Mommy hurts please ah" moans and gasps. it was all you could let out as Wanda ignored all of it and thrust your hips up and down on her strap, tits bouncing with the force.

your body trembling as you take her deeper inside you, suddenly you feel a sharp slap against your tits just as a humiliating spit was delivered on your face, spit drips from your mouth onto your chest as she slaps your tits repeatedly

"Mommy too much-gonna cum please" you plead at her "Come for mommy honey let it out" You came just as soon as those words left her mouth, she didn't stop. turning you guys around so she was on top she started thrusting with all her might as the bed started moving

"you know how badly mommy wanted to fuck that pussy from the very first time she saw you huh?" she whispered in your ear making you moan as she kept thursting "How I touched myself at the thought of being inside you fucking you so deep your legs wouldn't work for weeks? it was a torture not being able to fuck you every moment I saw you I just wanted to bend you over and take you" The dirty confessions only added fuel to the fire as you were already close

"please Mommy" you said weakly as she thoroughly fucked you, the room filling with noises of skin slapping together, "Please what? say it, baby"

"please I'm gonna cum again" you say looking up at her, "cum again for me then you don't need my permission"

just as you were about to cum she reaches down to rub your clit "NO PLEASE NO!" was the last thing you said when you lost control completely and squirted everywhere, not knowing what happened you looked at Wanda who was smirking smugly as she pulled out of you slowly and took off the strap throwing it down the bed

"Mommy I've never done that I'm sorry I don't know what happened" Wanda looked you down with admiration as she cooed cupping your face "Oh baby no that's okay you did good it was so good" she softly kissed you, leaving small kisses down your neck to your stomach until she reached between your legs

"no too much, can't." you tried squirming away but her strong hands held you in place "Just trust me" She raised her eyebrows and scanned your face for any hesitations as she dived down and carefully cleaned you up making sure not to overstimulate you

she sat back up "You taste so good", blushing at her compliment you muttered a "thank you"

"so adorable" Taking you in her arms and holding you against her she whispered sweet nothings into your ear through the whole time until you fell asleep in her arms, she looked at you knowing you were hers now. for forever.

[darkstaria]

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.

Chapter 1:

Chapter 2. Chapter 3.

----

Dark pupils watched from the ceiling, their gaze affixed upon you. You sighed, deciding to ignore its presence.

An aggravated chitter interrupted you. Pausing, you watched as a little green bird jumped out of the bat’s shadow. It paced towards you, making a small leap to land on your outstretched finger. You smiled, extending your hand to pet the top of its head. The bird took a moment to consider the moment, head tilting with its beak outstretched as if it intended to bite you. It seemed to decide on sparing your finger, allowing you to give the bird some pets on the head.

However, it was time to resume your work. You turned back to your computer, a dismissal. The bird didn't like that. A quick flash, and the bird tittered about on your keyboard, messing up your setup.

“Robin!” You snap, reaching out as if to push the bird away.

You sighed. You disliked calling the bird Robin. It was the correct species, despite the bird being green, so it made sense to use the name. But.. you hated the connection it created between your soul bonded animals and the vigilantes of the city. Unfortunately, the bird didn't answer to any other name. You've tried.

The other robins were so much more agreeable than this newer one. Well, not that you could even call those three robin anymore. The newer robin was very possessive of the name, and you'd rather not have to search your room for more stray feathers that flew off in their next fight. Your soul animals were such a pain.

The flutter of wings distracts you from your musings. You look up, finding the very bat you had been so cautiously avoiding earlier descend onto your desk. The bat chirped a little, with the robin occasionally replying back with chirps of its own. They were having their own conversation.

You decided you were owed a break already, so you gave up on your dreams of getting work done in lieu of watching the ongoing conversation. It was rare for soul animals to talk. They didn't need to. Due to the nature of a soul bond, soul animals act on the innermost feelings of the soul they represent. The bond connects souls, so soul animals, which are a manifestation of the bond, are already intune with their soulmates.

The only instance in which soul animals did tend to talk, was if the soulmates themselves were talking.

Robin chittured with a snap, the bat in return giving a controlled chirr.

Oooh. You thought to yourself. This sounds like an argument. You wondered what it was about. Maybe Robin pecked one too many victims, or caused a mess again.

Ah. You were thinking of your bonded as just animals again. To be fair, it was fairly easy. The only things you knew of your soulmates were because of how the animals acted. Anything else, and you were in the dark. That's how you wanted to think, anyway.

Maybe while they were distracted… You scoot back a little in your chair, until you figure you’re out of their line of sight. You make for the door, tipping out of your seat as quietly as you can. You're almost out the door when a weight settles itself on your head.

You sigh.

“Robin. Get off me, please.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the presence doesn't budge. Obliging, you reach up to your head, feeling the bird’s little feet jump onto your hand. Bringing Robin to eye level, you stare at it, unimpressed.

A nearby bat of wings draws you out of your faceoff. Guess sneaking out on your own was too much to ask for, as always.

“Ughhh.” You whine. Your soulmates were going to push you into complete isolation at this rate.

“Fine. You two already know the drill.”

You point at the Bat. “You can never follow me, I mean it. A bat is way too ominous of a soul animal to be flying around. It's just asking for trouble.”

The Bat remains silent, watching. Always, watching. You really hated it sometimes.

In all honesty, a robin wasn't too great of a soul animal to have with you in Gotham either. But your robins came in odd colours, so people didn't always clock that the bird was actually a robin. Sometimes you said that your soul animal was a greenfinch or a swallow. It tended to work, as long as no one looked twice.

A bat was much harder to hide.

“So..”. You give up, gesturing to your bag. “Just get in already, I'll make the trip quick.” You always had to make any outings short with this particular robin. If you spent too long with someone it got snippy. Very, snippy.

The other three robins tended to be a bit more accommodating. Well, not by much.

Robin glides into your bag, a movement of precision and grace. Not for the first time, you wonder what your bonded was like in person.

Deciding to dismiss the thought, you unlatch your door, heading out.

Just another day, with your soulmates.

~ ~ ~ ~

Your parents told you about your birth. You were born to a bat watching your window. It wasn't such a red flag, at first. The maternity ward was flush with newborn babes, so your parents figured that the bat was bound to another child. It was what they had hoped for, anyway.

Plenty of children weren't born with soulbonds. It wasn't a concern. They could be the elder of a bond. Or, they could have a delayed bond. They weren't concerned.

But… then it followed you home. Your parents settled you down, snug in your crib. When they next came to check up upon you, it was there. Perched upon the crib, watching you. When they next blinked, it was gone.

The very next day, your parents awoke to the Bat watching you again. But this time, a smaller bird was snuggled to your sleeping face. It clung to you all day, refusing to disappear when they appeared like the Bat did. It was… very mouthy.

They had assumed this to be a good development, everyone knew The Night worked alone. They were happy.

They were happy, even when another robin appeared the subsequent day. A scruffy one, snappy. Its feathers were still growing out. Young.

Perhaps they should have expected then, that the dawn the next new day would bring another little bird to your crib. The youngest one, a nestling still developing pin feathers. Despite its age, it held a keen gaze at them.

There weren't any more animals that appeared after that. So they hid any evidence of the Bat, and instead allowed you to grow up freely with your three birds.

The Bat was evidently the oldest in your soulbond. It was protective, almost parental, in its movements. It had a sixth sense for when you were in any danger, always emerging from the shadows with perfect timing. If a bat wasn't such a symbolic image in Gotham, you'd probably be more appreciative of its efforts.

The eldest bird was silly, performing aerial tricks and jumps that always brightened your day. It was keen, focusing on you whenever you felt down. It had the uncanny ability to appear whenever you were under the weather. When you said the word robin, it snapped to attention.

You decided to call it Robin.

The second bird was protective. It wasn't as loud as the eldest, but there was a spark of kindness in its gaze. Originally the bird was a lot rougher, but it started to calm down a few years in. Became stable. It always seemed to find you when you got stuck on homework, or landed on your shoulder whenever you flipped through a book.

The third bird was small. You assumed it was only a year or two older than you, due to how the bird’s feathers grew in. It wasn't as affectionate as the other two. Solitary, it often lingered in the shade. It watched you. It watched your other soul animals too, when they appeared. It seemed a little tired. It took you a bit, but eventually you realised it was lonely. After that, you always had a comforting word.

That is… until the Batman gained a partner. A boy decked out in green and yellow, the same feathers on your eldest bird. The vigilante called itself Robin.

As the duo gained notoriety, you were hidden more and more. There was danger in soulbonds, and nothing was more dangerous than vigilantes.

Robin became Nightwing. Your eldest bird grew in blue feathers. The bird stopped responding to its name. A new boy became Robin. You spotted green and yellow feathers growing in on your second bird. It started answering to Robin.

You knew who your soulmates were. After that, it was no secret. Not to you, not to your parents.

Your parents weren't happy anymore. But you were safe. They could be content with that. They considered reaching out. The evidence was obvious, they knew it, and you knew it. Maybe you could be even safer, if the Batman knew where you were.

And then you watched your Robin die.

The little bird had been stuck to you recently, seeming to be in an argument with the Bat. When in conflict, soul animals gravitated to those they weren't in disparity with, and this was nothing unfamiliar to you.

You had been stroking the little bird, as it rested on your lap. But then it jumped. It started shaking. It started crying. Bleeding.

You panicked. You tried to comfort it, to whisper caring words, to give a reassuring touch. You were young, you didn't know what to do. There was nothing you could do.

When a soulmate dies, the soul animal dies too.

The little Robin died, crying in your lap.

You had never looked at vigilantes the same way again.

There was no point in denial, not after that. Your bat became the Bat, the eldest robin named Wing. A few days later, your youngest soul animal developed new feathers. Green… and red. You didn't have a name for the bird, but you suspected you would soon.

You took a week off school.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Please be quiet, this time.” You muttered down to the green bird resting in your bag. It started at you with a condescending gaze. Ugh. Younger soulmates.

You'd sigh, but you've been doing that far too much lately as is.

Time to get this over with.

You enter the supermarket, one of your very few weekly outings. You start perusing the shelves, picking out what was in your list. As you're walking though, you hear a frustrated bark. You peak out from the shelves, spotting a lone woman tugging a leashed dog along.

Ah. You knew what this was. Everyone did. The other shoppers in the store paused too, staring at what was going on.

It was a rejected bond. When feelings between single soulbonded individuals become too bitter, the soul animal dissipates. Well, it was supposed to, and then reappear when feelings improve. But if the animal was constrained in some manner, then the animal can't disappear and is forced to remain in a physical form.

Judging from the leash on the dog’s neck, this was that same scenario. It was rather bold of the woman to bring the soul animal out in public if it was rejecting her like this. Almost brave.

Gothamites rarely helped each other, but things became a little sensitive with soul animals. You wouldn't be too surprised if there wasn't at least one attempt to free the dog today. It certainly caught attention. It could even catch.. vigilante attention.

You frowned. It was a shame to cut one of your few outings short. Sometimes there was no alternative though. You certainly wouldn't be sticking around.

You jumped at the sound of a shriek, eyes darting down to your bag where Robin rested. Robin glared venomously at your shoulder, and you glanced at it.

Your shoulder where… Ah. That would do it. Your shoulder where Red rested. Your third robin. You felt like crying. Why, why this pair?

You didn't even feel the bird as it appeared. Was that a testament to Red's stealth or your lacking observational skills?

Robin glared daggers at Red, practically hissing. You didn't even know birds could hiss. Red paid him no mind, instead looking very settled on your shoulder. The bird even snuggled your face a little. What a smug guy.

Another bark caught your attention. You glanced forward, remembering the scene. Your soul animal’s squabbling would draw too much attention. If any of the vigilantes were watching, you'd be in trouble. One robin soul animal was potentially excusable. But two? That would get you caught.

You tried to shush the two, a small signal for them to knock it off. Naturally, because it was these two, they ignored you. You groaned. This was far too public.

You grabbed Red, snatching him off your shoulder as gently as you could. Placing him gently into your shoulder bag, you tried your best to pretend the resulting screech from Robin wasn’t noticeable. The flap of your bag was closed, so no one could spot them… They could certainly hear if they came close enough though.

Time to leave. You paid for what you picked up and dashed out. The sight of rejected soulmates was generally considered disturbing, so anyone watching could just attribute your rush to that.

Were you paranoid?

Mayhaps a little.

You've justified it by the fact that you're probably soulmates with Batman and 4 robins, so paranoia is practically a requirement for your soul.

____

Hello ^ ^ welcome to my soulmate au! I do hope you enjoyed.

If you have any questions about the au, please feel free to reach out :D

[oddballwriter]

Calling Them your Husband

Warnings: nothing really 

Author’s Snip: I just wanted to make some tooth-rotting fluff so enjoy

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Steven Grant

When you call him your husband, it was originally a joke, sort of

Your friend called you while you were out doing errands with Steven and they asked what you were doing, to which you said "I'm out with my husband getting stuff done."

Steven just blushes and does that goofy little smile he does because he's never heard you say that but now he wants to hear it all the time now

You guys are in a long committed relationship together and you two have been living together for some time now but he's been too anxious to ask about possibly getting married some day. Not knowing if that's something you want or if you just want to cohabitate as a couple instead

But now that he heard you refer to him as your husband (even if it was a little joke) he wants to marry you in a heartbeat so that you can actually call him your husband and he can call you his wife/husband/spouse

He just thinks about it the whole day but doesn't say anything to see if you will call him that again in case pointing it out will cause you to stop. He is a bit more affectionate though, sneaking in a pick on the cheek or something and secretly making goo-goo eyes at you

When you get home and you aren't in range of seeing it Steven starts looking up engagement rings and prices to see which one would look nice on you and try and save up money

Steven also starts to subtly, at least as subtle as he can be, ask you about if you want to get married someday

He's such a dork though, bless his soul, in his brain he's just kicking his feet and giggling. He's looking at prices for venues and planners already.

Marc Spector

Marc has it in him to get married, we know that

But in his mind he doesn't really see himself as "husband material". He thinks that he's got too much baggage that you'd have to deal with if you were married

He acts like you two haven't been living together and splitting the bills and stuff, which is sometimes what marriage is, in the most domestic way possible

To him, he can't really see himself being able to do the whole marriage thing all over again

That was until some drunk creep was hitting on you while you and him were on a date and you told the guy "I'm with my husband" which warded that guy off

For some reason you calling him your husband while you locked your arm with his just washed those feelings of doubt out. Something about it just made him feel so confident

Like "Yeah I'm their husband! Back off!"

After that Marc was more open with himself about the idea of letting that title back into his life and getting to call you his spouse too

He more so likes the ability to call you his spouse. Possessiveness is in him and by god does getting to call you his spouse feed it

Marc will ask about the idea of marriage sometime after that just to see if you like it

If you want to get married then he's on board. But if you think cohabitating suits you better then he's fine with that too

So long as you're there together and you love him then he's content and happy

Jake Lockley

Damn right he's your husband

Honestly ever since you two got serious with your relationship, became committed to each other, and moved in he's just been like "We are married now" in his head

He's never said that out loud but he knows that the feeling is there with you too

It wasn't until you semi-jokingly called him your husband when some girls were checking him out and you huffed and puffed about it

"What's the matter? I wasn't flirting back." "Well, excuse me for not wanting some giggling college girls to be eyeing up my husband."

And that just... made him feel something, in his heart and in his pants

No but seriously. After that night cohabitating and acting like a married couple wasn't enough. He needs to put a ring on you and vice versa

He will go down to town hall and get those damn papers and buy the rings right now

Jake was originally just going to wait until you said that you wanted to get officially married, but he just can't anymore

In the morning you guys are going to buy rings, get the papers filled out, and planning the wedding

He's got the wedding planner on speed dial and a house with a picket fence in the nice part of town ready to go, just say "I do" please

Honestly at this point he never wants to hear his name come out of your mouth ever again. To you, it's either "hun" "hunny" "dear" or "sweetheart"

Light of his life, air in his lungs, fire in his loins

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[yanderestarangel]

☆𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ♡

TW: Yandere themes, manipulation, daddy issues lightly considered, rough sex, non con, dub con, Daddykink, manipulation,age gap, reader is of legal age, nsfw, smut, blood, death citation, bites, bloodkink, Dark!Miguel O'Hara, vaginal sex, creampie, AFAB READER, Pet names, DILF! Miguel O'Hara.

You really didn't know how you ended up in that situation, your life turned upside down overnight.

You were a normal person, you had a best friend, a monotonous and routine life, always doing the same things over and over, repeating the days every week or month, but you liked it, it was your pattern. until Miguel O'Hara came into your life.

Miguel met you through an unfortunate coincidence, he was the father of Briella, the little girl you were hired to take care of and give tutoring in literature and grammar after college classes, you accepted because you needed money and enjoyed teaching the little girl but I had never seen her father's face, Miguel always left early for work which no one knew exactly what it was, he always tried to be punctual, not wanting to leave his daughter in your hands more than necessary so as not to bother you, but he had been late that day, and that's when it all started.

You taught Briella peacefully, a few books spread across the white marble table while you recited some tale by 'Edgar Allan Poe' requested by Briella herself, Miguel was an hour late that day, having been trapped on a mission in the Spider Society, fighting against another anomaly, but it took off running and throwing red webs home quickly.

Miguel composed himself as he entered the house, soon encountering you, your aura light and angelic even, your features, your body covered by the soft fabrics of your clothes, the world of O'Hara stopped there, he felt the heat in his chest, such warmth that he had not known that his Briella's mother and his late wife had died, but now you were there, before him, like a graceful and beautiful angel.

You could have sworn you saw two red hearts in the older man's irises, and it was strangely disturbing, Miguel's lower lip trembled with anticipation and desire, a desire to make you his, physically and emotionally, body and soul, every particle and The atom of his being, wholly O'Hara's, was his new life goal and he would do anything to get what he wanted.

You two spoke quickly and he apologized, trying to keep his composure and not do anything stupid in front of his daughter or scare you, but from that day on, your monotonous life wasn't so monotonous anymore, you felt someone watching over you, someone was around, you could feel it and it was awful.

Miguel also strangely increased the time you were supposed to teach Briella, the problem is that every time you went, the little girl wasn't there but her father, Miguel, always with a warm smile but masked by something darker, something that slowly surface of the "Good single dad" facade, and soon you fell into his Perfect facade, to your bad luck.

Miguel started giving you very expensive gifts or extra money, even if you denied it, he always said the same sentence.

"-Don't worry mi carinõ, that's nothing, you are an angel in my life and my daughter's." - Miguel would speak with a smile of white teeth and a little shaky as he watched your body and face.

𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝑶'𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒎𝒂𝒏

𝑨 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖&lt;3

Soon the manifestations of possession would start, mainly manipulation, he would talk like a "concerned father" because you are younger than him, but in reality he would just use some of his mental and family instability to bring you into the web of possession it, especially if you have Daddy issues.

He will love to know that.

He'll be everything you want him to be, he'll start taking care of you, calling you "My good boy/girl" every time you do something nice or warm to him and Briella, complimenting you on how you look, asking if you ate or remembering how important you are, even if they are Miguel's genuine concerns, he will also use this to manipulate you and keep you close, you are his after all, even if you don't know it yet.

Bonus: he would force you to call him "Daddy", "Papi", "Papito" or "Sir" as a form of respect (But he knew it was for his own satisfaction, as a title that marked that you were his to him do whatever he wanted, you were his to own and keep, you are the love of his life whether you like it or not.)

Miguel will also push any love interest out of his life, regardless of sex or gender, he is an influential man in the multiverse and powerful, both physically and in status.

He will manipulate you so much that you will find yourself locked in his mansion with a luxurious and comfortable room, with no access to the outside world, just him and Briella, Miguel will manipulate Briella into believing that you are going to be her new Dad/Mom, while smiling little girl believed tall mexican's lies.

"-Oh that was your boyfriend? I'm sorry dear/sweetheart, his muscles were no use after all."

-Miguel would speak with a malicious and psychotic smile with fangs dirty with human blood. You will never leave there and if you try Miguel will punish you severely, either with poison bites, paralyzing you for a few minutes.

Leaving sexual pheromones and making you writhe with pain and lust and you won't be able to touch yourself, with Miguel watching you with a malicious and cruel smile.

Or worst case scenario, fuck you mercilessly, he'll thrust his cock inside you without warning after lubricating it with a little saliva and his fingers, with all his strength, trapping your body underneath him easily, while you listened to the older man moan and growl words of possession as he felt his cock hit your uterus and rise in your womb, while Miguel growled.

"-You are... Fuck so tight... (Y/N) you should have just stayed quiet, why did you try to run away from me? Don't you like your Daddy Miguel anymore? Hm?" - Miguel would speak in a mocking tone as he struck harder, holding your hips and leaving painful marks on your flesh with the tip of his claws.

"-I'll fuck your fucking brains out if you keep being a shitty brat, just obey me and everything will be fine."

- Miguel would speak with a sadistic and cruel voice, while he played with your clitoris with strength and anger, while he continued to stick his dick in your tight pussy, a painful and delicious mixture, you couldn't take it anymore, it was the fifth orgasm of the night, but Miguel wasn't going to stop, he never was.

"-I would destroy everything for you and build everything again from the ashes if you asked me to, and you still say I don't love you?" - Miguel O'Hara would speak with a few tears of pleasure in his eyes as he came inside you, painting your pussy with hot, thick cum, biting your neck hard and leaving a painful trail of blood and vicious bites.

♡Some quotes from Yandere Miguel O'Hara♡:

"-I really don't think you should try to get rid of me. If you try again I swear I'll make them all suffer in front of you."

"I really would hate to hurt you but you don't give me any choice darling/dear."

"I finally found you. You are so silly aren't you? You really need a punishment."

"You can't run away from me my love. If you leave my side I swear I will kill anyone who tries to help you leave my side and I would kill myself in front of you."

"I adore you so much, I would literally rip my heart out and give it to you, kneel at your feet and kiss the ground you walk on."

[thegnomelord]

Okay fuck after reading @killerkillerkillher 's fic with demon Soap and Price, and angel Ghost and Gaz, it got my own brain worms multiplying (as if I don't have enough going on lol) so here's the au draft that's been rotting for a while lol.

So here's an idea for an au:

Reader is part of a small group of friends that are Ghost hunters/DIY exorcists (read: They're all drop out college students and the ghost hunting youtube channel's putting food on the table). Reader doesn't believe in the supernatural but the friends keep reader around because you're the group's 'ghost deterrent' because spirits GTFO when reader's near and reader thinks the friends are just bullshitting you.

Anyway the group are moving to a bumfuck town in the middle of nowhere where an old haunted house the reader's grandmother left is. Then their pos car breaks down an hour away from town. 'Luckily' the town's mechanic, Johnny, was just driving by and helps you lot out. And ain't he a handsome devil (emphasis on devil) thinking he can con a couple of young and dumb humans out of their souls. Soap's all hooded eyes and husky voice as he lures you away like a lamb to a supply closet, oil darkened hands sliding under your shirt and lips sucking dark hickeys into your throat.

He pulls away when you tug on his mohawk, raising his head until his lips are just inches from your own and you don't even notice him mutter a verbal contract, nor do you understand you've agreed to one when his lips crash on yours like he's drowning.

And Johnny's grinning into the kiss like a loon as he tries to take the soul of the stupid but hot mortal he's just met only to find out he... he can't. No matter how consuming his kisses are or how aroused both of you get your soul sits stubbornly in your chest and doesn't even budge.

When your friend bangs on the door and yells for you to "stop shagging every guy you meet!" you're forced to give an awkward goodbye and scurry away. And Soap's left completely bewildered and confused as fuck wondering what just happened and thinks he needs to tell Price.

Meanwhile, while your car's being fixed up, your friends drag you to the town's only pub that's run by a Simon Riley. He's an intimidating man without trying to be, but he doesn't immediately chase you out like some bar owners. He's quiet, listening to your friends chatter while cleaning a glass rough scarred hands, but the way he looks at you is... odd. Like you're an interesting bauble he's found on his gran's shelf.

He's there to catch you when you trip on a raised floorboard you swear wasn't there before. "Thanks, I owe you one." You say with a small awkward laugh, though for some reason it feels like him catching you had been an excuse to touch you.

"That so?" His thumb traces the dark hickeys across your throat, surprisingly soft, and you can feel your cheeks getting hot. "You let Johnny have fun with you?" His chuckle is rich like aged wine, fingers gently pressing down on a hickey; it feels possessive. "You'd let any old thing like me take from you, yeah?" There's something in his words that has a shiver running down your spine, though from apprehension or arousal you're not sure.

"Ye- eh, yeah." You don't know which question you're agreeing with, and you understand the weight of your words, quickly walking away from him before your friends can embarrass you by wolf whistling at you and him. And you completely forget to ask on how he knows it was the mechanic who gave you the hickeys.

With still some time to burn before sun sets you decide to visit the radio station in town, mainly because your friend swears on his life that those are always haunted or have some decrepit old host that knows all the gossip in town. And when you meet the man you had heard softly yet confidently talking on the radio? He's handsome, pretty brown eyes as enticing as his voice, and you're starting to sense a theme with you meeting all these very nice looking men.

But Kyle, or Gaz as he asks you to call him, is a wealth of knowledge to the point you're not sure where the gossip stops and some crumb of truth begins. He talks all the way into the night with you and your gang of amateur ghost hunters, and you see why he is the radio host because his voice is like the song of angels, silk soft on your ears and you feel like you could fall into the best sleep of your life from listening to him.

And all he wants from you in return for his knowledge? "Nothing much mate, just a small favor, I'm sure you'll manage." Kyle leans in and pecks your lips like he's sealing a promise, or a bargain, but that's just you being stupid after getting kissed by the second hot guy today, surely. Gaz already knows he can't just nab your soul, he has ears in every wall in this town, but at least he can put his own claim on you.

Day, for the most part, well spent you and your friends go to the house for a good night's rest. It isn't any good as you're woken up numerous times and by morning you have several broken vases and an exploded lightbulb — everything you explain away as the house being old as fuck, but your friends claim it to be the work of spirits — your friends drag you to the church on the hill at the asscrack of dawn.

And that's how you meet Father Johnathan Price. (Insert devil in church joke here)

He listens to your friends explain the situation, calm and collected, but you swear his eyes stay on you the entire time. "That's quite a predicament." Price hums, offering to bless you and your friends in hopes of protecting you from evil spirits.

You're the last to go, nearly jumping out of your skin when he grips your chin. "Relax my boy." Those words frazzle your brain enough for him to easily pull on your jaw until your mouth opens, his thumb almost playing with your bottom lip. The look in his eyes is dark, the air between you far heavier than it should be between you and a bloody priest. But Price doesn't see anything wrong with this, pressing a thumb down on your tongue and then putting a wafer on your tongue. "There you go, you are now blessed in the name of a lord. Now consume it, my boy."

You obey automatically. You're not quite sure if a communion wafer is supposed to taste so... weird, it has a coppery and peppery taste to it. Almost like spicy blood or something but that's just you being stupid again, especially as you can feel heat burning between your legs.

Sufficiently embarrassed about getting hard at a priest you give an awkward goodbye and leave, trying to fix your pants before your friends see your... problem.

Johnny appears by Price's side in a small flicker of flames and brimstone when you leave, confident smirk on his face. "Ooh, couldn't resist claiming a piece of him fer yourself?" He smirks, nudging Price on his side.

"I suppose he is more interesting than the usual rabble." Price hums, already imagining of how handsome you'd look laying naked on the altar, and how to get you to that point.

Congrats! Now you've got 4 hot dudes trying to take your soul :D

[okay-babe]

Headcannons ~ Alastor with a reader who has a contract with Valentino...

tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship (in the final third of the post), cam star! reader, possessive! alastor, valentino sucks (as usual), mild angst, mild nsfw note: okay so I got an ask wanting to know my thoughts on Alastor with a reader who used to be in a contract with Valentino and has to interact with him, but I misread it as Alastor with a reader who is currently in a contract with Valentino and has to interact with him lol, so here's this! (The actual request should be fulfilled soon, my bad anon!).

♱. At first, Alastor definitely thought you were more than just a little foolish for having made a deal with an overlord like Valentino (bro does not understand the concept of victim blaming).

♱. In his mind, the moth is so blatantly rancid that it just doesn't make any sense for anyone to ever think otherwise, even for a moment.

♱. But then, as he gets to know you better, he starts to see things a little bit differently.

♱. "This is gonna sound stupid..."

♱. You told him one day while speaking on the topic of the overlord who owned your soul, a rare occurrence indeed due to the stigma your contract seemed to carry.

♱. "But honestly, Val was the first person down here to actually make me feel like I was... I dunno... attractive?"

♱. You groaned at the end of your sentence, burying your head in your hands,

♱. "I just... I didn't recognize myself anymore, the person in the mirror wasn't me, y'know? It's like one second I was a human, and the next I was, well, this!"

♱. You exclaimed, gesturing to yourself all the while.

♱. "In a way, his absolutely ridiculous insistence that he could make me into a star made me realize that just because I looked a little different didn't mean I looked bad..."

♱. You trailed off, hands stuffed into your pockets as you looked into the distance,

♱. "And then when I learned about everything he had to offer? I mean how could I have possibly said no? It felt like a win-win back then, or at least something close to it. He promised that no one would touch me, that all he needed was my pretty face and a camera."

♱. You looked toward your then friend with a sigh, a tired smile plastered upon your face,

♱. "I guess he kept that part of the bargain, huh? I just never really thought he would end up being so... awful."

♱. You cringed at the end of your statement, eyes going glassy for a few moments before you suddenly clapped your hands together, standing up abruptly immediately afterward.

♱. "Haha, anyways, you have to have like a thousand contracts right? There's gotta be some good stories there."

♱. As you urged him to speak further on his own experiences, Alastor couldn't help but reconsider his previous thoughts regarding your deal.

♱. Perhaps you weren't as foolish as he had initially thought.

♱. Honestly though, as time goes on and your friendship develops even further, Valentino's contract with you really doesn't end up being that pressing of a topic.

♱. Most of the time, any thoughts regarding the overlord go unsaid, and your business with him is considered yours and yours alone.

♱. That is, until you miss a photo shoot for Slayboy magazine (sorry) and the moth turns up at the hotel, clearly pissed off.

♱. So pissed off in fact, that he had neglected to consider the fact that it wouldn't necessarily be you who responded to his incessant banging...

♱. With a wide grin and an almost obnoxious flourish, the radio demon opened the door, leaning slightly on his staff as he regarded the moth with an amused hum.

♱. "Oh my, the vice demon himself here to visit our humble hotel? Why, to what do I owe the displeasure?!"

♱. He exclaimed, watching as the man's eye twitched slightly in response.

♱. "Where is she?!"

♱. He growled, moving to stalk past Alastor only to be stopped at the pressure of the overlord's microphone against his chest,

♱. "Ah ah ah,"

♱. He tutted,

♱. "You most certainly do not want to do that."

♱. His voice held a hint of warning to it, and a great deal of amusement, his eyes full of malice as he spoke.

♱. Valentino glared,

♱. "Fuck off you corny old bitch, this doesn't concern you."

♱. In response, Alastor simply chuckled, his bones popping and muscles splitting as he slowly began to grow in size, in no mood for the other demon's antics.

♱. "Oh but that's where you're wrong, you insufferable wretch."

♱. He said with an earsplitting grin,

♱. "Anything that involves my most esteemed employee very much does concern me."

♱. In reaction to the sight before him, Valentino snarled, but took a step backward nonetheless, not quite stupid enough to pick a fight with the radio demon on his own.

♱. "Ugh, fine!"

♱. He shouted,

♱. "But you tell that fucking whore to be on site in thirty or I'll find a way to kill her twice!"

♱. And with that, he was turning back toward his limo, ignoring the loud radio static that sounded from behind as he did so.

♱. Of course though, that was just about the only time that Valentino ever got away with ordering you around in front of Alastor, because soon enough, your friendship began to bloom into an extremely unexpected romance.

♱. And after that?

♱. Well, Alastor became a lot less tolerant of the idea that something like your soul belonged to someone else.

♱. He was constantly glaring daggers at the moth demon nearly every time he saw him, be it at an overlord meeting, or even the photo shoots you had in studios outside of the V's gaudy looking headquarters (he might love you, but starting a war with Vox by hanging around in that tower definitely wouldn't be a very smart move).

♱. Makes a show of helping you undress at each and every shoot that he does go to though, neatly folding your clothing for you before pressing a gentle kiss to your head.

♱. "Go on then, my dear."

♱. He would purr,

♱. "I'll just be here enjoying the view if you need me." (He's so corny).

♱. Absolutely despises the fact that your deal forces you to show your body the way that you do in front of a camera. Like not a fan at all.

♱. He doesn't really judge you for it knowing why you ended up making your deal in the first place, but he has absolutely killed an obscene number of sinners and hellborn fools that he witnessed viewing your content in public.

♱. "Al, they're not doing any harm!"

♱. You commented one day after the particularly gruesome murder of a random sinner, arms crossed.

♱. "Oh, on the contrary, darling,"

♱. He'd purred with a wide and unsettling grin,

♱. "I'm afraid they were looking a bit too intently at what's mine."

♱. Yeah you didn't argue too much after that.

♱. (Not like it would ever do you any good to anyway).

♱. Whether or not he actually tries to find you a way out of your contract though, is really entirely up to you in the grand scheme of things.

♱. He certainly isn't fond of it, the idea of another man owning you and all...

♱. But in the end he'll get over it if you really want him to... Just give him a few hundred years or so...

♱. (Yeah unless you can give him like a thousand spectacular reasons not to, he's going to try to find a way to get you out of that deal with Valentino).

♱. Still, in the meantime, he definitely makes your shoots feel a little bit less daunting (although if Val makes one more comment about how lucrative a photo set with you and the radio demon would be, you're worried Al might actually kill the guy).

[horrorbarbie13]

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚃𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙼𝚎

Summary: Reader tests Tara's possessiveness and decides to make her jealous at a party, only making the girl furious. Tara fucks Y/N so hard until the girl is cumming over and over again, screaming how Tara owns her.

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Warnings: (+18), smut, a little degradation, tied up (little bondage), mommy kink, rough.

Word count: 3.3k

After hours Y/N has finally convinced Tara to accompany her at her friend's party. While Y/N was extremely excited to finally have a night that escapes the routine, Tara on the other hand was definitely not in the mood for parties. Y/N eventually succumbed to the idea of going alone with a couple of friends to the party, since she didn't want to force Tara to go against her will, however Tara's mood changed in a blink as soon as she laid her eyes on Y/N while she was  finishing getting ready.

The short brunette girl couldn't resist seeing my girlfriend in that tight black dress even if she tried to. Y/N's makeup was perfectly done and that tight high ponytail that fits the almost devilish figure could make anyone weak. Tara knew that the girl would be a trap for any poor soul. The idea of not going to that party was quickly dropped once she realized she wasn't going to be the only one having trouble to control herself, she needed to come to keep an eye on her girl and make sure no one tries to even breathe too close to her.

"Hey I'm going to get another drink do you want anything babe?" Tara asks in her girlfriends ear so she can hear her through the blasting music. Y/N smiles already a bit drunk and shakes her head before kissing Tara softly. The short girl can't help but smile into the kiss. Eventually they separate and Tara goes looking for the kitchen.

While going thought the empty bottles trying to find something to drink, Tara feels her cup getting filled. When she quickly turns her head ready to complain, a smile grows on her face when she finds her friend Mindy. "Dude you scared me" says Tara accompanied by the laughs of both girls. They end chatting and losing a bit of track of time. Mid conversation, Mindy asks how things are with Y/N, which makes Tara softly smile and move her eyes around the room trying to find her girlfriend, but the smile drops when she lays her eyes on Y/N. She could feel her blood boiling and face getting red at the sight in front of her. Hearing Mindy's voice far away while Tara's zooming out, her hand gripped the cup so hard that ends up smashing it.

There she was, her devilish girlfriend, dancing with a random girl who had her hands on Y/N hips. Tara just stares intensely trying her hardest to not make a scene and smash the other girl's head on the floor as hard and she could, over and over and over again...

Y/N, on the other hand, was enjoying this way more than she would ever admit. While Tara was away, a blonde girl came up behind her and started grinding and dancing against her body. Y/N was conscious to know she should've pushed the unknown girl away but jealous Tara is too hot for her to resist and drunk Y/N is too horny to think correctly about consequences, so she decided to take advantage of the situation and the opportunity that just fell on her lap.

Without having to look, Y/N could feel a gaze upon her and a she couldn't help but bit her lip while smiling like an idiot knowing exactly who it was. Y/N turns her head and locks eyes with a furious Tara. While smiling innocently and looking at her girlfriend's eyes, Y/N pushes her ass harder against the girl making her moan loudly in her ear, making Y/N cringe a little for not being Tara.

At this point Tara was about to explode, so Y/N decided to really push her over the limit.

Still locking eyes with each other from far away, Y/N grabs the girl's hand and runs it slowly up her body making the blonde squeeze her boob. The action itself didn't turn Y/N on the slightest, but she was absolutely soaking in anticipation of what Tara was going to do to her as soon as she loses control.

Not being able to hold herself anymore, seeing someone having their hands on what she owns, Tara furiously walks up to the pathetic girl trying to touch her girlfriend not caring who or what is on her way. Y/N's feels herself getting nervous at the sight of Tara coming so fast and grabbing her arm hard before spilling  the smashed cup she had in her hand with the left overs of her drink all over the girl, making her gasp loudly.

"She's mine!! If you ever dare to even try to lay your pathetic eyes on her again I swear to fucking God I'll stab both of your eyes so slowly that you wish you were never born." it's all Y/N hears Tara say before pushing her towards the car.

"Baby I-" "If another word comes out of your mouth during this ride I swear to fucking God you won't be able to talk again." Instead of getting scared like a normal person at Tara's state, Y/N immediately feels her panties getting drenched just by the tone of her voice making her shut up.

After a while it was too much for Y/N, even the slightest movements from the car were torturing her, making her try to get just a little friction, getting frustrated when it wasn't enough. She needed Tara to touch her and waiting to get home wasn't an option at that point. Slowly and a little unsure, Y/N looks over to the girl on her left and notices how she's looking straight at the road clenching her perfect jaw. The sight makes Y/N almost stop functioning in her drunk state,  so without even thinking she pushes her dress up slowly allowing herself to run her fingers softly along my clothed slit, a heavy satisfied breath comes out of her mouth making the mad girl to look at her.

Tara stops the car abruptly and grabs Y/N's neck slamming her hard against the seat which makes her gasp loudly mixed with a moan.

 "First you let someone else touch you right in front of me and now you're going to try to touch yourself without asking me?!" I shiver and feel her hand getting tighter around my neck

I look her in the eyes seeing that they're really dark with a mix of anger, desire and possessiveness.

"I-I..." Tara moves her hand from my neck and grabs my jaw hard making me look at her.

"Didn't I warn you what would happen if you talked?! Don't fucking test me." Y/N feels herself get lost in the moment by Tara's beautiful eyes and can only allow herself to nod at the words.

Tara doesn't move her hand still grabbing the other's jaw while her eyes glance between Y/N's eyes and lips several times. The wet girl feels a huge urge to kiss her girlfriend but before she could try to move Tara lets her go and starts driving again without saying another word, leaving Y/N incredibly aroused and unable to talk or move.

Y/N looks out of the window with her dress still up, grabbing the sides of her seat to try to not touch herself. She swears she had seen Tara mad before but never like this, she's more scared of her silence than when she's yelling.

When they pull over Tara quickly gets out of the car slamming the door hard and goes to Y/Ns side. She doesn't give the other girl time to even process what's going on. Tara opens her door and grabs her hair pulling her out of the car and push Y/N inside the house.

 Slamming the door behind them, Tara pushes the girl against it hard, taking the opportunity to kiss her deeply letting her feel all the mixed emotions. Y/N immediately moans on the cherry flavored lips against her own which makes Tara smirk knowing she already has Y/N on her knees without even trying.

Y/N pushes herself on Tara and lets her hands getting lost inside the raven hair she adores. Gripping it to pull her closer, Y/N feels Tara's hands on the sides of her hips pulling the dress more up, showing all of her lacy black panties that were obviously soaked, making her sigh in anticipation. But before she gets what she wanted so badly, Y/N feels her wrists getting grabbed hard and pinned against the door.

Y/N whines, "N-no, please let me touch you" Tara chuckles lowly at how frustrated and needy her girl is.

Tara puts her thigh in between her legs and whispers really close to her lips, "You have to earn your right to touch me like a good little slut we both know you are"

Tara feels Y/N's body shivering under her touch and words making her smirk. A moan comes out of Y/N's parted lips and they lock eyes.

Tara takes the opportunity to grip her wrists tighter and moves her thigh up and down giving Y/N the bit of the friction she was dying for. The needy girl's hips immediately move along with the rhythm and her moans become louder and louder by the second, still locking their eyes.

"You're really wet for me aren't you baby? I swear I can feel the heat through the clothes, it's so pathetic, I just started." Tara confidently says while pressing her leg harder. Y/N moans loudly throwing her head back against the door, noticing how their lips were dangerously close, she takes the opportunity to try to kiss her, however she feels the girl moving back, making her whine.

"M-mommy p-please..." Y/N begs with her eyes closed in between heavy breaths, the sight of her so vulnerable turns Tara on so much. She grabs her jaw and makes Y/N look at her.

Tara says while looking at her lips, "You wanted to play with me princess didn't you, so let's play and see how much you can handle."

Before she could say anything Tara once again grabs a fist full of her hair and drags her to the bedroom upstairs.

Tara pushes the vulnerable girl on the bed face down and a loud moan from comes out of her lips. At this point she could feel her wetness dripping slightly down her legs, which made her even wetter if possible.

"Don't. Move." Tara says in a very stern tone. Not wanting to push her even more, Y/N just listens and doesn't move a millimeter. 

However, after a few minutes, Y/N couldn't wait anymore and she closes my legs hard rubbing them together trying to feel some kind of pleasure discreetly. 

She flinches at the sound of the door slamming shut, but doesn't even dare to look at her girlfriend.

"Take your dress and panties off, but leave your panties on. Now." Y/N quickly obeys and lays back down on her stomach waiting for Tara to do something.

Y/N feels her sit on her back, allowing her to feel the heat between Tara's legs, making her roll her eyes and moaning. Tara grabs her wrists handcuffing the girl to the bed. Y/N feels her body tremble with all the thoughts that went through her mind of things that Tara could do to her.

The raven haired girl grabs Y/N's hair harshly and pulls her head back so she could whisper in her ear, "Now you're going to learn who you belong to baby, you need to understand you can't test me like that."

Y/N's body is so weak for Tara, she can't form words to answer so only moans can be heard. Tara smirks and starts sucking on the tied up girl's neck really hard, clearly wanting to mark her territory. As she sucks on the neck, Tara slowly starts grinding on Y/N's ass, only making the girl more desperate and moaning louder.

"You better be dripping down your legs Y/N. Show mommy how much of a slut you are and how bad you want to be fucked. I know you want to be my slut." She whispers the last part against Y/N's skin making her pussy react at the words and eyes rolled a bit.

"Please Tara I-i need you" She chuckles clearly proud and gets off of me and I immediately miss her heat.

"Ass up whore, you can keep your head in the pillow". Y/N does as she's told and hears Tara moan at the sight. Tara's hands grab Y/N's ass, spreading her, "Fuck you're so wet for me, so fuckable." She slaps her ass really hard only to hear a loud gasp and whimper.

"Don't think I forgot about the punishment doll." She keeps slapping Y/N's ass the same way until both lost count. Y/N can feel tears forming in her eyes and the skin burning.

However, she quickly forgets about the pain when she feels her nails running slowly up her inner thighs scratching the skin very gently, clearly torturing her.

"Beg like the good girl you are." Tara orders in a whispering tone while leaving bites Y/N's ass and on her inner thighs really close to her center. Y/N feels one of her hands rubbing her panties slightly brushing so softly on her sensitive clit.

"Please Tar, I need you so fucking much, I'm so wet for you, please fuck me mommy p-please" Y/N manages to say in between moans, feeling so desperate and needy. She loves begging for Tara.

Without a word, Tara pulls the panties to the side and starts teasing her clit with the tip of her tongue. Y/N feels her body tense up after the long wait. She pulls on the handcuffs while her face is buried in the pillow letting loud moans escape. Tara chuckles and the feeling of her breath hitting Y/N's pussy only makes her wetter. 

"Do you want more?" She asks as she licks from the clit to her hole really slowly. "Mhmmm-" Y/N whines in such a needy way that drives Tara crazy.

Tara rips the panties off aggressively and grabs Y/N's hair pushing her head down on the pillow. She feels Tara's hot breath against the skin of her neck making its way up slowly to Y/N's ear.

"I'm going to teach you who you belong to." As she finishes her sentence she slams two fingers inside Y/N not caring to go slow. Her pace is fast and really hard making the girl scream and moan uncontrollably.

She keeps the rhythm and starts sucking on her neck hard, "Look at you, being a slut for mommy." her words only makes the girl under her growl. Y/N pulls harder on the handcuffs wanting to grab Tara's hair to push her head closer to but whimpers leaves her lips when she can't touch her dark locks.

Y/N feels her smirk against her as she adds one finger more, fucking her senselessly with no mercy. The sound of her own wet pussy getting louder and louder as Tara's fingers go deep inside her pushes Y/N closer to the edge.

"M-mommy I'm g-gonna c-cum" Y/N manages to say on the edge of cumming.

"Not yet slut." She whimpers and bites the pillow trying her hardest not to cum, scared of the consequences. 

Suddenly Tara grabs her jaw from behind pulling her head back harshly and starts saying in her ear in a low tone, "Look at you acting like the slut you are, you're mine do you hear me, don't you ever for one second think it's okay to disrespect me like that and let someone else touch you again, understood? You're mine, say it!" 

Unable to form words, Y/N only moans and screams from having her fingers slamming hard deep inside her pussy.

Since she didn't get an answer, Tara takes out her fingers and puts them inside Y/N's mouth fucking it the way she was fucking her cunt. Y/N gags and moans at the taste of her own wetness on Tara's fingers.

"I'll repeat myself for the last time: Say you're mine Y/N." She says in a stern way while fucking Y/N's mouth.

While doing her best to not gag, she manages to say, "I'm all fucking yours", leaving Tara clearly pleased at those words.

She takes her fingers out and pats Y/N's cheek hard with her hand now covered in wetness and saliva, "Good fucking girl."

Before the girl could react she slams her slim long fingers back in her pussy while rubbing the clit which makes Y/N roll her eyes while screaming in the pillow.

She thrusts harder than before and the intense orgasm builds up again quickly. Tara notices Y/N  getting tighter around her fingers.

"Does my slut wanna cum?" She asks with an evil chuckle. Unable to form words, Y/N only lets out a loud moan "Mhmmmmmmm...."

With her free hand Tara pulls her hair back not slowing down her thrusts for one second, "Didn't hear you. Beg for it"

Y/N's legs start to shake aggressively and she can barely keep her eyes open, she's so close and holding it it's only making her wetter.

"Plea-please please let me cum m-mommy please", she manages to scream while gripping the handcuffs with both hands. She curves her fingers inside Y/N hitting the right spot over and over again, making the girl groan loudly.

"Who do you belong to? Who is the only person that can touch you, make you feel this good?" Who owns you?" She moans Y/N's ear feeling her so tight.

"You, you Tara you only you" Y/N quickly says, clearly desperate to cum, the pleasure is almost painful.

"Good girl, cum for me Y/N." As soon as those words leave her mouth, Y/N lets out a really loud scream along with the intense orgasm. It hits her so hard giving her such an incredible amount of pleasure that almost makes her brain shut off for a second.

After she cums, Tara let's go of the girls hair making her head fall in the pillow. Y/N almost blacks out, but the feeling of her three fingers deep inside her while Tara's tongue is on her clit brings her back to reality.

"B-baby-y pl-please, I c-can't." Y/N sobs, but Tara only slaps her ass, in a way of telling her to shut up and just take it.

It only takes a few thrusts and Y/N is about to cum again and Tara is fully aware. Her whole body is shaking like crazy and without being able to warn the dominant girl, Y/N cums once more.

She takes her fingers out fast and opens her mouth close to Y/N's pussy while rubbing her clit fast. This intense feeling makes the submissive girl squirt all over Tara's face.

"Fuuuuck" Y/N moans as loud as she could, this new feeling takes the rest of her strength out and her whole body gives up on the bed.

While trying calm down her rapid breathing, Y/N can feel Tara's tongue slowly and softly clean her dripping wet thighs and pussy. With care, she feels the tongue making its way to her ass, only making her moan softly at the dirty feeling.

When she finished licking every drop, her kisses go up Y/N's back slowly, leaving a track of love with every kiss. Tara lays on my back and takes the hair that's sticking on Y/N's face and neck cause of the sweat out of the way.

"You're mine, if you ever forget that or try to play me one more time like you did tonight, I'll fuck you so hard for such a long time you won't be left conscious baby. I own you." She warns the girl under her in between sweet kisses on her cheek and shoulder.

Y/N smiles at the mix of the hot warning words and sweet kisses. Y/N looks at Tara softly, clearly giving her heart eyes, "I'm yours."

Tara looks back at the soft girl and smiles. Both slowly leaning they share a soft, but long kiss that gives both butterflies.

They pull away and Tara reaches to take the handcuffs off. As she kisses the sore wrists, Y/N lays back on the pillow closing her eyes. She feels herself slowly falling asleep while the short angel plays with her hair gently and kisses her skin with such care that makes her melt.

"I love you Tara" I say quietly before falling asleep, "I love you too Y/N".

[circeyoru]

Reader from the yandere Alastor series with cursed cat Alastor. I said what I said.

It's js being a cat doing a cat things with a hint of chaos and destruction but like Alastor it's super clingy with reader and has a small rivalry with Alastor js because

To those that have no idea what this is talking about, check out {Unwanted Soul}

I saw the cursed cat thingy!!! It's so cutely cursed honestly!!! But love it the same!! (I was wondering if some of you would send in asks about this with Yandere!Alastor and here you guys are)

If we add the cutie cat into the mix, there's more trouble. But! Here's the kicker! Cause Reader's/you're a fan of animals. Cats definitely included. So you'd be hugging the little creature whenever and wherever you can! The moment you got the hint that the cat was okay with you touching it, you got it in your arms.

Now, the cat's just another version of Alastor, right? So naturally, the cat is clingy to you. You don't even mind too! There are certain situations where Alastor can't come close to you, but you allow that cat to do it? What's more that cat is a version of him? Look at that smile! It's grinning and taunting Alastor!

Depending on the time period, there are different reactions:

After your arrival to the hotel, you got a guardcat with you when you're wandering the hotel. It will ward off Charlie and the others whenever they try to approach you or ask you things. You let it and say its harmless. Alastor's pleased that you were covered when he wasn't around, but when he's around, he didn't expect the same treatment done to him! Back off!

After your confession, yeah, Mimzy's getting a bunch of bite marks and not the sexual type. It's logical that Alastor's more possessive and obsessive after you were firm and confident enough to directly confess to him. But that cat was still clinging to you and let you it! Hello? Alastor's right here! Don't pay attention to that copy of him! Pettiness all around, Alastor's battling against his tiny cat version and you're enjoying it.

In terms of the chaos and destruction the cat brings, you're surprisingly lenient to it. You're already lenient to Alastor, defending the demon. But it was a whole new level for the cutie. You'd even fix the broken things the cat did. You didn't scold it? Why??? You only did when it broke/ate something of yours. You really gave the cat the cold shoulders and Alastor was being a big tease about it. "Oh, My Darling isn't letting you in? Then who am I to let you in."

In general, it's all fun and games until you got mad at its actions.

[yan-lorkai]

How about an undertaker with a fem Vampire s/o?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: He is such a silly little guy, I love him. And I love this rq too since I absolutely adore vampires! Hope u like it too!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, fem reader, very brief mention of the bizarre dolls, otherwise, this is just fluff <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Undertaker has seen thousands of immortal creatures, however, this is the first time he has seen a vampire. And even more so, one as beautiful as you. As they say in the legends, your skin is so soft to the touch, your eyes dangerous and treacherous, your beautiful smile showing your sharp fangs. And he feels enchanted by you. But what enchants him the most are your jokes, even if they aren't good, they make him laugh until his stomach hurts and he cries.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ As a Shinigami he knows how immoral it is to harvest a soul before its time, but if you want to kill some people to feed on them, Undertaker wouldn't stop you. Instead, he would cover your tracks so that no one would know who the killer was. Or, if you don't hunt people but animals, he would help you, even though he didn't have that much experience with traps.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Loves watching you hypnotize people to do something you want or just for funsies. You and Undertaker usually play with people as if they were your dolls, just another harmless play. But you two do get reckless sometimes.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He buys the best dresses to accentuate your beauty. Then he praises you, he would praise you even if you were covered from head to toe with blood. He might even get down on one knee to propose.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Absolutely melts when you kiss his scar, he might or might not tell you the story about how he got it.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He makes you skull bracelets and necklaces, so you know that he is never a part. And it's imbued with his own shinigami magic so he knows where you are. Is never a coincidence when he met you at alleyways or crowded places, he wasn't just passing by, he know you never would do something to spoil your relationship with him but he is a clingy Shinigami that likes to drap himself on top of you like a cat and to fill your face with kisses.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ On the surface level he is sweet and caring, and he truly is, he loves spoiling you and acting silly to make you laugh - your laugh makes him giggle so this turn into a vicious cycle. But he is just as possessive as much as he gentle with you. He'll do anything you asked, anything you wanted, but only if he can get you whole, only if you depend on him and think only of him. Even if you don't, Undertaker has his ways to do things.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ After a while, when you two get serious, he is much more open about his past with you. He even let's you hold his scythe and absolutely love the look on your face, it's so precious how you spin it around and carefully analyze the skull at the top. You ask him tons of questions on it and about shinigamis. If you're lucky he might even tell you his true name.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ To prevent anyone from speaking ill of you, Undertaker has you working on the mortuary as his assistant. Though he hates when that butler's stare lingers on you a little longer. You're his beloved, you're beautiful but people shouldn't look at you like this, even worse, that demon shouldn't even be near you. Undertakes gets impossibly jealous when he and the little brat are gone. And of course you have to be the one to placate his burning heart, to ease his worries or else you have to deal with a cranky god of death.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You sometimes help him make his bizarre dolls and he loves it so much, guiding you to every step and explaining why he is creating them and for what purpose. It's a little strange but when you two are bonding over anything, it's bounded to be this way. Death surrounds you two daily and now it seems like a good ol' friend, welcoming.

[monimccoythings]

Human!Alastor x Daughter!Reader: Devotion

These are all part of the same AU, I suppose, or not. But I like to think they are all part of the same AU, sometimes I forget what I write. Now this are just some deranged feelings and thoughts of Alive!Alastor.

Reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason.

Tw: obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, mentions of blood, implied murder, manipulation.

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Alastor had never been a sentimental man. Of course he loved his mama, she was a wonderful woman and her death had definitely caused him a great amount of grief.

And then you came along.

Your soft skin, your chubby hands that tried to grasp his larger fingers to no avail, your wide unfocused eyes that darted everywhere, taking notice of everything. How delicate you felt in his arms, you fit perfectly, like you were made to be there.

How easily he could break you, he ponders. One little snap and there would be no more of you. It would be so quick and simple. There was only one little thing.

He adored you.

Your quiet little coos, your incomprehensible babbling that sounded like you were trying to carry an adult conversation with him, the way you squealed with joy whenever one of your favorite songs started playing on the radio. You were delightful, and provided him with more enrichment than any of the bumbling fools he usually associated himself with could provide.

As years passed by, you started to get bigger, your world expanding, your knowledge growing. And with it, came the risk of having you slip away from him.

He had modeled you to be his perfect little angel, his little fawn. His obedient child. He would not allow anyone to take you away from him. He was your guardian, your protector. Some asshole looked at you the wrong way while you two were going on a walk? He was never heard of again. Some low-paid teacher was becoming some sort of role model to you? Ooops! Accidents happen!

He found that his reasoning for protecting you was also a good excuse to indulge in his darkest desires. A way to calm the itch that was always nagging at the back of his head.

Alastor did it for you. He was making the world a safer place for you. No matter how much fun and enjoyment he got out of it. None of those buffoons would ever taint your innocence with their dirty souls. Not even himself.

He would take his secrets to the grave, always hidden behind a wide smile. he would be the good father, the charming radio host, the modelic citizen. The blood in his hands, as delicious as it tasted, would never stain your clothes.

No one would keep you two apart, he would make sure of that. He was all that you could possibly ever need. Your world started and ended with him, as it should be. Let him be the barrier between your purity and the rotten society that lurked outside.

He suffered everytime you were forced to spend time apart of each other. Couldn't you see it? Did you feel it too? Whenever you were in school or he was working, it was complete suffering for him! His fingers drumming impatiently on the surface of the table, counting the seconds until he was back at home with you. Only the mental stimulation that took directing, writing and starrring in his own radio show for which he held great passion and the delightful hunt his side job provided were enough distraction to cope with his sorrow.

When did he become so emotional? He should be feeling embarrassed of himself or at least be very thankful that his mask of sanity wasn't cracking with all those feelings. Instead, he found himself embracing them. He embraced the painful worry about your wellbeing and his influence over you, the obssessive and twisted love he felt, the need for control, to ensure you remained his innocent and good child, and the bitter despair at your absence that sunk into his heart like a knife. Only his little baby could give him such a rush.

He was sure that not even death would be able to take you from his hands. He would personally fight God, the Devil, and anybody who got in his way. Alastor would tear the fabric of reality apart just to get to you.

You would never run away from him. There was no reason to, as he had made you as devoted of him as he was of you. Or at least he hoped so.

Having you leave him would surely break his heart, as it would mean to Alastor that you had chosen to do things the hard way. But maybe, after a very detailed and complex planification on his part and some casualties orchestrated by him, Alastor might be able to convince you to return back home, with a grim reminder about the dangers of the outside world.

For there is no safer place on Earth than in your father's embrace.