#gold filled jewellery

[boylerpf]

Paste Horseshoe Art Nouveau Locket

via Boylerpf.com

[modwyr]

Livia (and Octavian) inspired by me feeling that the marketing of Domina missed out on an opportunity by not engaging with how Livia presented herself

bonus version uncropped below

[noveauskull]

Her Highness And Her Gem [NSFW]

characters: rafayel x reader

warnings: 18+, smut, spoilers for Rafayel's "wander in wonder" card, fingering, oral (f! receiving), reverse cowgirl, doggy style, prone bone, praising (m! receiving), no protection (piv), cocky princess reader, dominant reader, Lemurian Rafayel, porn with P L O T

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"What's going on? Why is everyone gathered in her Highness's throne room?"

"Didn't you hear? Messengers from every corner of the land brought these so-called "gifts" for her highness"

"Gifts?"

"It's to alleviate her boredom, apparently..."

You continued to listen to the unnecessary chattering of the maids surrounding the room, holding back from rolling your eyes at how ridiculous the entire situation was.

This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't escaped the palace for the 10th time this month.

It can't be helped. Your boredom was going to kill you before your age did, what's so wrong with wanting to see the outside world once in a while?

You were getting tired of every offer given by other Kingdoms and Empires through men. It was starting to get old by how they all carried good looks but no talent in bed, even a few aphrodisiacs couldn't satisfy you.

You weren't the best princess out there. Rebellious, cruel and salacious. Those were the words often used by others to describe you, most people expect a princess to be on their best behaviour, kind-hearted and pure, but you couldn't care less about such unimportant things.

"Bring them in, quickly" You wasted no time in telling the female messenger, and she nodded before clapping twice as a signal.

As of right now, while your eyes stared into the men walking in the room with attires of different erotic styles, your brain was stuck on finding another way to escape, and where you would visit once you had succeeded.

"Your Highness, have a look. These men are all pleasing to the eye"

Without realizing it, you let out a disappointed and stress-filled sigh. Make the female messenger take it as you are feeling unsatisfied with the line of men in front of you.

You didn't bother clearing up the misunderstanding as you would have preferred them all gone anyway, but then you watched as the female messenger winked at the group. They all suddenly made way for a certain individual.

"Would your highness be open to a handsome Lemurian to stroke the flames of your curiousity?" She said with a proud smile.

Your eyes immediately found a place on the violet-haired man, wearing a gold-adorned outfit that barely did anything to cover his erotic body. The sight was quite a surprise as you never expected to hear the words "Lemurian" along with it.

Without realization, you had a mischievous grin plastered on your face.

Watching how the Lemurian man looked uninterested while maintaining eye contact with you, his hands were tied with thick cuffs to prevent him from trying to escape. Maybe that's why he didn't look too happy.

"Very well, the rest can leave" You waved off the female messenger and her group of men away, signalling the maids to escort them out as you got up from your seat.

You walked down from your throne and stood in front of the Lemurian man, eyeing him closely. His eyes were in a mixed hue of blue, purple and pink, beautiful and unique like how they said Lemurians would be.

Every mole on his face and body was being observed from your lenses, you could tell how nervous he became from having your lecherous gaze on him, you could feel his breath against the top of your head as he avoided making eye contact with you.

Feeling impatient, you used your finger to hook onto the jewellery on his neck, giving him a small tug as you walked him towards your bedroom like you would with a dog on a leash. Surprising him but knowing that following you instead of struggling would do him less trouble.

The entire walk down the corridor towards your room was silent, all you could hear was his bare feet making tiny pitter-patter noises as your heels clicked in a rush, your mind was bent on one thing only this evening.

To tame this Lemurian as your own.

Before you could notice the smirk on your face, you threw the male onto your bed, watching him gasp in shock from the sudden impact, his eyes immediately locking into yours as you had both your hands on the sides of his head, pinning him with nowhere else to look but you.

"I've been waiting for a Lemurian to fall onto my hand for a while now..." You spoke in a hushed voice, laced with a hint of arousal. Whoever put him in this outfit was going to be rewarded handsomely.

"I heard the creatures of the sea possess beautiful voices, won't you entertain me?"

As you asked him the question, you could see him frown before turning his head away from your gaze in an attempt to protest your request. It seems that he was playing hard to get.

"Well, I do like it when they put up a little fight" You let out a wicked laugh, watching his face look nervous once more. Maybe he could tell you were a bit crazy through the look in your eyes.

However, you weren't interested in playing with a toy that wasn't working. So you decided to throw your body down to lie next to the violet-haired male, heaving out a sigh as you stretch your arms. Your actions make the individual beside you flinch and stare at you in confusion.

"If you don't plan on speaking, then you will never be free from this place," You told him, your eyes shut with your arms resting at the back of your head, legs crossed creating a position of an unfeminine and careless manner.

"I was born in this very palace, and I will die here without a single ounce of freedom"

Curious to know if he was listening, you opened your eyes to gaze at him once more, he had already been sat up, facing you with a distrustful look, but still interested in what you had to say.

"If you don't believe me, think about how empty the palace is. How there isn't a single man, and why I need these messengers to find me another man every week" You watched his face soften, and while what you were saying could be true, most of it was to get him to open up to you.

A cruel princess you may be.

You weren't lying when you said you were lonely. But hinting to him that you let the men that came to your chambers off to "save" them was definitely a lie. You just didn't find them entertaining after a week.

"You will be no difference. After a week you can go back to your home, and I will find another man to bring into my chambers"

You switched your position to laying onto your stomach, hand resting under your chin as your other hand went to poke the Lemurian's stomach, tracing his abs.

"...If you agree, speak your name" You didn't bother to look at his face as you had a smile imprinted on your face, finding entertainment in tracing nonexistent patterns on his muscular body.

It took a silence so deep you could hear your own breath, waiting for a reply from the male. But after a few more seconds, you concluded that he just wasn't interested in what you had to offer, so you took your hand off his body, pushing yourself up.

"Rafayel"

You froze, hands resting on the bed as your head snapped to look at the Lemurian's face, you observed the look on his face. He seemed calm and willing this time, seeing him look so obedient had you grinning, your eyes squinting by how big you were smiling as you pushed your face forward to his.

"No takebacks" You pressed your lips into his, feeling him gasp in your mouth, however, he didn't protest, letting you kiss him so rough that you had him lie back down on the bed as your body hovered over his once more.

Right when you were getting into the mood, you pulled away from his lips, clicking your tongue in annoyance while Rafayel panted from how intense your kissing was. Rafayel's hands were right on your belly, the cold hard metal that was holding his hands in place was making you uncomfortable.

"I'll uncuff you. That is if you can promise me you'll be good"

The Lemurian didn't seem responsive, instead, he was just panting restlessly, partly to catch his breath or to regain his composure. Not noticing how lewd his face looked and that the pupils in his eyes turned to slits. You took his silence as an agreement to what you said and brought the cuffs to your face.

It seemed like it didn't need a key to unlock. Instead, it had a switch similar to what bracelets have. You pressed on the poking metal and watched the cuff on his right hand unlock, falling loosely as you did the same with his left.

You carelessly threw the metal cuffs to the ground, not caring what would happen to it. Right when you were going to resume what you've been longing to do for a while, you felt two hands grip your wrists before tossing you onto the bed, switching positions of you and Rafayel.

"Ugh!" You grunted at the impact. Eyes locked in with Rafayel's, which went from an innocent, obedient look to a look that held something similar to that of an untamed dog. Unruly, and incapable of self-control.

Not wanting to back down from simply being pinned down, you smirked at Rafayel. Cocking your head upwards with a scoff, watching the Lemurian's eyes glow in a blue similar to the ocean. Before he could proceed with whatever he was planning on doing, you cut in.

"If you plan to get a strike and run away, it won't end well for you" You warned, making it clear that you weren't phased by him.

"It will start with the entire Empire distraught about what happened to their princess. Then every man and woman alike will go through every end of the world to find the messengers of their respective Empire or Kingdom that sent you to me. War will break out" You felt the grip on your wrists tighten, but you didn't bother to stop.

"And then they will aim for your people. No Lemurian in the sea will be left alive, they will skin your tails, gouge your pretty eyes, rip your scales off, and every bone of yours will be taken care of" Your eyes darkened as you watched Rafayel's face grow angrier.

"Every. Single. One"

You felt him release his grip on one of your hands, lifting up his own to create a ball of fire in an attempt to burn you right on the spot. Your provoking was so intense it had a man of the sea create fire. What a spectacle this man was.

Seeing as how you were in awe, he paused from throwing the fire at you. Waiting to see what else you would do. You happily gave him the expectation he needed.

You slowly sat up to not provoke him any further, before using the hand that was free to touch his right cheek. Thumb brushed over the mole as he stared at you with wide eyes, confused as to what you were doing now.

"Don't worry. Those things can't happen if I'm alive. I'm the princess of the most influential and powerful Empire there is here. Kings and Queens all over the world send me their sons so that they could be on good terms with us" You assured him, caressing his cheek as you would with a lover.

"As long as you're mine, no one will harm you"

Hearing you calmly whisper, Rafayel took a second before extinguishing the fire in his palm, then placing his hand to press against the bed sheets. The blue glow in his eye had also disappeared, which signalled you that he was now approachable.

"...We could even create a treaty between humans and Lemurians" You initiated, gently grabbing his hand and using it to trace it towards your stomach.

"Right...here..."

Pregnancy. You were insisting on having a child with a Lemurian man. You could see the utter shock on Rafayel's face. He looked at you as if you were crazy, but your people don't call you a tyrant for nothing. Because the look on your eyes showed that you had not a drop of humanity in you.

Without noticing it, Rafayel looked at you with pity.

"If I give you what I want, you will set me free" Your ears perked at the voice of the Lemurian man. How nice would his moans be if you had him inside you at this instant.

But he was a whole other species. A race with animalistic features. So you had to play it slow and steady. Luring in the snake before cutting off its fangs.

"Of course"

Now the one who was pushing their lips onto the other was Rafayel. You gladly let him take the initiative, since usually you would have to do all the work, so it would be nice to have a change of pace in things.

His style of kissing was similar to that of a lover. He didn't let his nervousness or hesitance show in his actions. Instead, he was determined, hungry even. Yet so gentle and experienced. Perhaps he's done it before with other women.

If that's the case, then it saves you the trouble of having to teach another man from scratch.

You guided his hand that was on your stomach lower to where your expensively embroidered pants were. Using his big, veiny hand to rub onto your lower region. Making him open his eyes and look down when he felt how warm and wet you were.

Without asking, he slipped his hand into your pants, feeling your pussy bare, covered completely in your juices making it easier for him to play with it.

You felt his fingers tease around your hole, rubbing up and down to gather your slick lubricant for his fingers before sticking them inside easily. Making you let out a moan that released you off your starvation to be touched, you removed your lips from his to give yourself better access to moan.

"A-Ah yes! Just like that" You gripped his wrist harder, guiding him to press all the right spots. Suddenly feeling the need to make a joke at the same time.

"Mmph! How lucky the other ladies are to have a piece of you before me, huh?" You let out a messy laugh, letting out another moan when you felt him press a particular spot harder.

"Stop talking" He warned, however seeing him frown at you made you want to coo at how innocent he looked, like a child that had his candy stolen from him.

"Then make me" You wrapped your hand around his neck and pressed his lips against yours for the third time.

You relish in the taste of his soft lips on yours, part of you wishes he would use those lips and work on your body instead of his hands, but you don't want to rush art in its process.

While you had your hole thrust in and out by Rafayel's fingers, you used your free hands to brush onto his body, feeling every bump of his perfectly sculpted abs on your fingers, if you weren't so preoccupied with his fingers inside, you would have smirked at how you could feel him lose composure from a simple touch.

Soon enough you felt like his fingers weren't enough for you. So you decided to take back the initiative and grab him by his arms, promptly pushing him onto the bed and crawling up to move your hips forward, your pants lowering down in the process.

Now his eyes were facing your soaking wet pussy, slightly throbbing from the loss of his slender fingers inside you. Rafayel stared at the leaking hole for a few seconds before averting his eyes to look up at you. To which you greeted his lost look with a large grin, nothing but pure arousal in your face.

"Go on"

You egged the Lemurian man on, he didn't seem to hesitate when his eyes went back to looking down at your pussy, and then he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, licking up the juices that were spilling out of you, neglecting your swollen clit so far.

A satisfied moan escapes your lips. The same lips that you had praised for being so soft and lewd were now suckling and licking up all your pussy had to offer, like he was cleaning up all the marks left by the other men you had slept with.

"Y-Yes...Good boy..." You bit your lower lip, running your fingers through his violet-coloured hair to guide his lips further to the perfect spots of your pussy. His nose slightly brushed against your clit.

It seemed that the tiny praise you gave to the Lemurian made him more excited than you thought because right when you praised him, you felt two large hands grope your asscheeks, pulling you forward to Rafayel's mouth, his lips latching onto your neglected clit at the same time.

You couldn't help but let out a noise of shock and pleasure, the sudden warmth and aggression in his tongue caught you off guard as all you could do was hold onto the headboard of the bed and have your legs twitch from every continuous lick he was giving to your pussy.

With the pace he had, it didn't take long before you felt yourself slowly inching closer to your orgasm. You couldn't even let out a noise to indicate that you were close because of how needy you were, it was like finally having a gulp of water after spending days in a desert.

"A-Argh- Fuck!" You groaned.

Like an instinct, you pushed his face closer to your pussy as if it weren't already close enough. Probably having his teeth touch your skin but you couldn't tell, you were too busy using Rafayel's face like how you would use a pillow at night.

You were so busy riding out your own release that you didn't even notice how the Lemurian man's eyes rolled back from the sudden pressure of his face being used for your own satisfaction, the arousing smell of your juices wouldn't go wasted as he would attempt to gulp down every single drop. Seriously, where did he learn to do all this?

Without care, you threw his head back onto the pillow before cupping his face and bombarding it with kisses, aiming from his cheek to his neck, planting kiss marks from your lipstick and leaving a few hickeys behind. Tarnishing his clean body with your bite marks.

"So gorgeous.." Another praise left your mouth.

Once you were proud of the work you left on his body, you pulled off your pants completely. Making sure Rafayel's eyes never left yours as you did so, throwing them away somewhere at the corner of the room before you pulled down the navy blue embroidered pants he had on as well, before turning your back on him and rubbing your wet cunt all over his rock hard cock.

"Little Lemuria's quite excited, huh?" You teased, watching his dazed expression never change. He was definitely out of it.

You made sure all the saliva and juices on your pussy coated his dick completely, you could tell he was getting impatient from how his leg would hold itself back from hiking up each time you rubbed your soft cunt onto his shaft, but you weren't looking forward in rushing such a valuable moment.

When you felt like you got his cock wet enough, you held his dick with your palm, feeling your own cum slipping through your fingers as you slowly pushed it inside of you, letting out a large sigh of relief when you finally got to feel something large and veiny as his cock.

Without wasting another second you moved your hips back and forth, letting his cock hit you from every spot you had inside, and also giving him a good view of your ass as you continued to tease him with the way you rocked your hips.

Right when you made him believe you were just going to rock on his dick, you lifted your hips up and slammed yourself down, earning a loud moan from both you and him. The sudden action shocked Rafayel to the point his hands reached up to grab your waist while you continued to ram his dick deep inside you.

"Mmph! Yes! Right there!"

The pace you created from simply hopping up and down his dick became too intense that Rafayel couldn't keep up anymore. His eyes would fail to gain focus once you brought him closer to his release through the teasing you did earlier. Not hiding the moans that followed the closer you got to your orgasm.

"U-Ugh! A-Almost!"

You clenched your pussy while letting out a loud moan, the impact he had on your hole was far stronger than your impact on his dick since you clearly cared about reaching your own orgasm first. To which you did a few seconds before Rafayel could cum as well.

While you were trying to keep yourself up after completely raw dogging yourself onto his cock, you let out a gasp when you felt your body being pushed forward, your arms being held behind your back as you felt a harsh thrust snap to hips and a deep press inside your cervix.

A loud guttural moan left your mouth as you were forced into a position where the Lemurian man had his way with you, you couldn't see his face, but you could tell by the way he was holding back his growls that he was chasing after the orgasm you denied him from achieving.

You wanted to tell him to slow down, but you couldn't as all your energy was lost from the first two orgasms you had, all you could do was moan desperately while you continued to feel Rafayel's cock gushing in and out of your hole that twitched uncontrollably.

Thanks to you being sensitive, the clamps your pussy made on Rafayel's dick made him reach his high quicker than anticipated. He gives his few final thrusts by pushing your hips so far that your stomach and face are now pressing onto the sheets, you are about to reach your third orgasm.

You hear Rafayel moan in relief as he completely filled your hole up with his cum. Feeling the warm substance gush out of your hole and run down your legs as you came on his dick once more. Eyes roll to the back of your head, leading to nothing but pitch blackness on your sight.

When you two were finally satisfied, all you could hear was the heavy breathing that came out from both your mouths. You couldn't move your body anymore, all you could do was lie on the bed with your ass facing Rafayel, you might as well sleep at that moment.

And sleep you did.

The last thing you felt was the warm embrace of the Lemurian man, you didn't expect him to be so gentlemanly, taking care of you while you were unconscious. He would make it harder for you to let him go.

But to your surprise, he was already gone the moment you woke up.

At first, you were frantic. Threatening to kill everyone in the palace if they didn't tell you his whereabouts, but it seemed that the little fish was quite sneaky, as everyone reported to have never seen him.

Eventually, you gave up. The only one time you finally found something interesting and exhilarating in your mundane life sat right at your palm, and you let it get away.

Moving on was easy, but your body no longer wanted to feel the touch of another man. Every day the maids and messengers would present you with a line of gorgeous men, but you barely even spared a glance, the only thing imprinted in your brain was that god darned Lemurian.

A week would have already passed since then. And you would find yourself laying on the same bed he was on with you, bored out of your mind.

"Stupid Lemurian. Bewitching me" You cursed, tossing a grape at the wall, watching it bounce off and fall onto the floor.

You were bent on revenge. If you ever see him again, you are going to turn him into your slave, that is for sure.

"I hope I won't be turned into seafood if I let your highness come with me"

Immediately, you sat up in shock. Not noticing you had almost crushed the grape in your hand when you heard a familiar voice. Your head snapped to look at your bedroom window, and there stood a familiar man with violent-coloured hair and purple-hued eyes.

"You..." You muttered. Eyes frantically observing his new look. He had a gorgeous attire of blues, and his skin was covered in these symbolic marks.

You watched him have a serious look on his face, arms crossed as he eyed the grape you had in your hand. Curious about what you were so determined to throw at your walls.

"That's wasting food, princess" Compared to the man he was before, he sounded more cocky and mighty. Almost like a king.

You tried to find the words to retort at him. But all you could do was gaze at him in awe, the beauty he held must have increased tenfold from this past week, so this was what he would truly look like in Lemuria.

Snapping yourself out of the daze you were in, you stood up and ran towards him, finger-pointing at his chest as you furrowed your eyebrows and faced him.

"You bewitched me! And to add on, you had the gall to leave me after bedding me! You sly fish!" You yelled, finger poking a hole into his chest as he let out a chuckle.

"Oh! Funny is it?" You spat, watching his eyes trace itself to grab your arm that was poking him, you still had the grape in your hand.

Rafayel slowly kissed your arm, then brought his face to your hand. Where he took the grape in his lips and ate it whole, chewing the fruit inside his mouth and gulping it in front of you, then planting a kiss onto your hand.

The entire gesture left you speechless. Now you were definitely convinced that this man was trying to bewitch you. Your mind circled in thoughts on how dare he touch you so casually that you didn't notice how red your face was.

"Come with me, princess" He offered, eyes staring into yours.

"..." You didn't question him. Because you knew fully well that you would do wonders to leave the place. But you knew you couldn't, especially when you've done so countless of times.

"I can't. They'll find me and kill you. It's not worth the risk" You reasoned, eyes darkening with disappointment in your own words.

"I'd like to see them try and kill the God of Tides" He laughed at your words, to which you frowned in confusion.

"What does the God of Tides have anything to do with you?" Not realizing how stupid your question sounded, you watched as Rafayel looked at you with an arched eyebrow and a tiny smirk.

"...No way" Your eyes widened before moving your head up and down to take a good look at his attire once more.

Rafayel wasn't just some Lemurian lost on land. He was a Sea God.

"Goodness," You blurted out, watching Rafayel laugh at your reaction, to which you responded by blushing in embarrassment.

"Does this change things for us now?" He asked in between his laughs, to which you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I suppose"

You felt his arm wrap around your waist, bringing you close to him as you gasped, surprised by his bold gesture. When you looked up at him he had a fulfilling smile on his face.

Next thing you knew waves of water surrounded the two of you, maybe this time you could truly escape this boring place for good.

"Hey, Rafayel. Why did you come back for me?"

"Well, a lonely princess asked me to let her conceive my child. The kinder option would be to show her where I grew up, wouldn't it?"

"...Yeah..."

-

"Did you hear? The princess has escaped the palace once more"

"That's nothing new, is it?"

"Oh, but it is. I heard this time she escaped with a lover!"

"A lover?! That tyrant?!"

"Whoever that gentleman is, he must be crazy to elope with her"

"You said it"

-----

A/N: so like... clearly a lot of themes were running through my mind. maybe this isn't concubine! rafayel as promised BUT THE THEME IS THERE SO EAT YOUR FOOD LIKE THE GOOD CHILDREN YOU ARE (picky eaters are not welcomed, says the picky eater herself)

anyways incubus! rafayel is next, probably in a week or two who knows. after this, I will work on some zayne or xavier oneshots as well :)

OH AND CAN I SAY I WANNA OPEN COMMISSIONS SO BAD???? like maybe not for my art, but definitely for my writing. only when i hit 1k followers will I do that though so stay tuned!

here are the outfits mentioned in the oneshot for better imagination 💪✨️

[jpfinejewelry]

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[tadpolesonalgae]

Lost In Paradise

Azriel x reader

a/n: I don’t know what the fuck overcame me when writing this—heads up they’re in the Day Court, by the way

Warnings: dear gods Azriel, Azriel in jewellery—diamond piercings to be precise, with kohl lined/smudged eyes, biting, oral (f receiving), smut, overstim, Azzie being a bit mischievous—implied orgasm denial, light wing play, light breeding kink

word count: 3,009

“We have a dinner to go to, Az,” you insist, inclining your chin as he noses along your throat, broad palms running slowly, reverently, up and down the bare skin of your back. Calloused and scarred hands rasping against the smooth, shimmery expanse of your skin, fingers touching along the knuckles of your spine.

“You’re a three course meal all on your own, pretty thing,” he murmurs beside the shell of your ear, gripping your waist lightly, letting his touch span across the sheer silk of your dress, marvelling at your feel, your shape beneath his hands—how finely you fit with him. 

Your pulse spikes at the flattery, heart beating quick in your chest, head tipping back as his lips press firmly to the small notch in your throat, kissing down to your collar bones, keeping you tight to his front, grip firm and unrelenting. “We’re guests,” you try faintly, already lost in his heaven, “it would be bad etiquette to not show up to the first meal—Az…!”

In one smooth motion he’s swept you off your feet, guiding your legs around his waist, thighs squeezing his hips while his palms appreciatively support your ass. “Bad etiquette would be not eating you out before I fuck you,” he drawls atop your mouth, a cocky smirk on his softened lips, staring down at you with his kohl-smudged eyes, diamonds swinging from his ears, the gold fastenings gleaming in the burning yellow sunset, setting the ocean on fire with molten metal as the sun melts atop the glistening waves. 

“Bad etiquette would be wasting a perfectly romantic evening for the sake of one measly dinner that we aren’t even required to attend,” he murmurs, that smug, self-satisfied look in his shining hazel eyes, flecks of amber and jade set alight through the refraction of the setting sun. Gleaming and swirling like they’re precious stones infinitely more valuable than even the tiny, glittering diamonds making up the jewellery adorning his marvellously handsome features. 

“You look good in Day Court attire,” you mumble breathlessly, clinging onto him as he walks you out onto the balcony, laying you down atop the pillowy, padded massage table, creamy fabric turned a perfectly-baked, golden-brown in the evening light, fitted over the cushions.

“You like how much skin it shows,” he drawls, palms settling either side of you, your hair splayed out from where he’s set you, strewn in lustrous glory against the pillow. “You like how easy it is to manoeuvre around.” 

Sure enough, with the soaring temperatures during a sun-filled day, with heat beating down upon the marble-carved pillars, the attire is perfectly suited for the arid climate. Clothing comes in light colours—mostly cream or off-white—and it contrasts the colour of his skin perfectly. The flush on his cheeks despite the cocky look highlights the hunger delightfully. And thanks to the opulent nature of the Court itself, it gives reason for your mate to wear some of the piercings he rarely adorns himself in for the sake of practicality. The ones you love—his ears the main focus, but with wandering hands your fingers clutch the hem of pale, heated linen, raising it from his toned stomach to reveal the incredibly self-indulgent piercing he’d gotten for his belly button, white diamonds set around the narrow golden band. 

“Gods you’re edible,” you pant, the shallow breaths having little to do with the heated evening and more to do with the hot and hungry look he’s pinning you with as he pulls the troublesome shirt off and over his head. His wings flexing and flaring now they’re rid of the fabric brushing the base of the great limbs. Showing off his well-endowed magnificence, as he should.

“Feel better about skipping that dinner now, pretty thing?” Azriel asks roughly, fingers catching the hem of your dress and swiftly pulling it out from under you, pushing it away further along the pale, padded table. “Maybe you had a point about my bad etiquette,” he drawls hotly, open palm coasting up your stomach, fingers grazing between your breasts. He leans over, dark silky hair flopping across your brow, kohl-rimmed eyes making the hazel of his irises simmer with the ravenous intensity of the setting sun, setting you ablaze. “I’ll be eating first.” 

“How brash,” you breathe, fingers dancing up the bare muscle of his upper arms, nails squeezing lightly at his shoulders, raking teasingly over his gloriously powerful back. He begins laying kisses to your collar bones, teeth nipping at your shimmering skin—you’d spent some time refreshing and making use of the scented, swirling lotions available—slowly trailing down between your breasts, tongue flicking over your nipples teasingly. “Weren’t you ever told not to play with your food?” 

“How can I resist when there’s such a beautiful meal before me? Taste is important but it’s more than that, wouldn’t you say?” Fingers hook beneath the golden strings at your hips, guiding them down your thighs as his mouth trails lower, kissing down your stomach. “I need to appreciate all of you. Not just with my mouth, but with my skin, and touch. How can I enjoy you without indulging all my senses?”

“All of them?” You question, back arching as he reaches your abdomen, fingers threading through his hair to encourage him closer. 

Azriel laughs, the sound coming from deep in his chest, splashing over your skin like melted butter and honey, bathing you in arousing sweetness. “All of them,” he whispers. 

“Sight.” Dark rimmed eyes flick upwards, licking over your form as he connects with you, lashes thick and heavy atop his gaze—equally heavy. 

“Smell.” He noses the intimate skin of your inner thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he parts your legs to make room for himself, your ass resting just at the edge of the cushioned table.

“Touch.” Fingers slip between your parted thighs, trailing up and down your centre, slicking himself in your wetness. Circling your clit twice before dipping back down. 

“Sound.” His thick digits slide in, a cocky smirk on his mouth as he curls them causing your back to arch, beckoning you forward, a heady moan spilling from your mouth as he pushes deeper, rubbing against spots he knows you like. 

“Would you like to tell me the fifth one?” Azriel drawls, dangerously low, arousal thickening his tone to something dark and syrupy. 

“Taste…” You breathe desperately. “Taste…Azriel!” 

“Good girl.” His lips curve in a sinful grin, diamonds twinkling their mirth as he lowers himself to your cunt. “You’ve earned it.” 

A rich, heady moan spills from your mouth as his tongue flattens over your clit, fingers working you with heavenly ease while his mouth remains at the apex of your thighs. It’s nothing short of paradise, floating high above in the clouds, nestled in a pillowy cushion as he bathes you in pleasure, rubbing it into you in ways that shouldn’t be permitted—how can something so good exist on this plane of reality?

Your head tips back into the cushioning, moans rising from your chest unabashedly, singing your pleasure with every curl of his fingers, every lovely flick of his tongue. The high approaches far faster than you ever would have expected, spine arching, grinding down on his mouth, hips swirling as he suckles at your clit, able to feel the impending high as your muscles brace for the powerful onslaught. 

You cry out as you come, nails raking through his hair, his wings flaring with male satisfaction as you orgasm, feeling you tighten and flutter around his thick fingers, clit pulsing as pleasure rapidly fires through your body, racing up and throughout your skin, spreading right to your fingertips. Your mouth opens as sound fails you, eyes squeezing shut, Azriel’s rough palms gripping your hips tight as you begin to squirm and writhe, seeking to crawl away from the pleasure—but he likes seeing you like this, and won’t allow it to end anywhere near prematurely. 

His forearm bands across your hips, pinning them down as you try to buck upward, forcing you through the aftershocks that have your body trembling, strength draining, leaving you powerless to resist his dominating touch. Azriel’s relentless in the pursuit of your pleasure, keeping his fingers tucked inside of you, keeping the pace, keeping his tongue swirling around your hardened clit, dragging it between his lips when he feels you coming down and teasingly tugging on it with his teeth.

A lovely whimper graces his ears, mouth parting into a wicked grin as you muster the strength to look down at him, your legs spread with slick gleaming on his lips, threading between your inner thighs where he’s gotten you especially messy. 

“Ready for the main course?” He drawls, your nipples peaking at the rough, rolling timbre of his voice, skin prickling as awareness sweeps through you. “Main course?” You pant, already falling out of it, unable to grasp what he’s referring to with that wicked smile as he stands, wings looming over his shoulders. Shadows pull the band of his loose, pale linen trousers from their already low placement on his hips, allowing his hands to settle either side of your waist as he presses flush to your messy heat. 

“Both of us,” he whispers, leaning down atop your mouth, “together?”

You think your eyes roll slightly at the reminder, nails threading through his inky hair as you pull him into a hot kiss, thighs wrapping snugly around his hips. His cock rests hot and heavy against your cunt, slowly riding back and forth to coat himself thoroughly, before aligning his tip with your entrance. 

“Go slowly,” you beg, clutching onto him with anticipation—you’re far to sensitive for any of his rough treatment. But he smirks over your lips, hips drawing back so his tip drags down over your hardened clit, his leaking cock nudging the entrance of your drooling cunt, messy and sloppy from previous attention—about to be made much messier. 

“Go slowly?” He muses, a low laugh in his voice that makes your skin prickle, hairs standing on end. “You’re perfectly warmed up, aren’t you? All ready and pliable, huh? What could you possibly want me to go slowly for?” You flush deeply, hands twining together over his broad shoulders, trying to push as much sternness into your gaze as you can manage—which isn’t much, judging by the way he chuckles. 

“Is my girl too sensitive?” 

That smirk. That sinful fucking smirk. 

“Whatever you do to me I’ll be delivering right back,” you warn, thighs squeezing his hips. “I’m getting you in my mouth after this, remember…” 

“How could I forget?” He groans, hips pushing forward. “Gonna taste both of us.” 

A pleased moan sighs from your lips as he fills you up, gripping one leg to bring it up his chest—the underside of your thigh pressing to his lower stomach as he pushes tight against you. Azriel’s gaze is nothing short of ravenous as he takes in the arch of your spine as his palm splays across your abdomen, applying a slight pressure to really get you to feel him. 

“Like that?” He asks, short on breath. Mouth curved in that smug grin. So self-satisfied. “Look at you,” he coos, shifting his hips, dragging them back so his head is again at your entrance, before pushing his cock all the way back inside. “So hot and flushed. All of this for me?” His thumb swipes across your clit, and you moan helplessly, tossing your head to the side as your eyes squeeze shut, nails scraping over the cushioning. 

Before you can formulate a reply he’s setting his pace, giving deep, almost punishing thrusts of his hips that roll firmly to your own. Sharp and decisive, just as you like, spine arching with every buck. 

“Can you even count to three right now?” He taunts, shadows swirling over your breasts, teasingly playing with your nipples, curling around them and tugging lightly. You try to shoot him a glare—that side of him has been coming out more frequently as of late, and you really don’t want to deal with his mean streak right now. Not on such a perfectly set up evening for romance and intimacy. 

So you extend your arms toward him, fingers opening and closing as if to grasp onto him. “Azriel…” you moan, reaching. His hips buck sharply of their own accord, swearing you could feel him twitch from pleasure—he might enjoy being mean from time to time, but it’s all for getting you nice and needy. He’s an undeniable soft spot for your desperation. Like putty in your hands once you reach for him, your toes curling from pleasure.  

“Fuck,” he curses low under his breath, driving his cock firmly into you as his palms splay either side of you, letting you touch and feel all over him, practically shivering with the greed in your fingers as they explore and grope. “Such a sweet little thing to everyone else, aren’t you? Such a wicked little devil when you’re with me.” 

Teeth tug on your lower lip as you try to keep your smile to yourself, but you fail miserably, smiling wide as your head tips back into the pillow, relishing the pleasure. “Wicked devil?” You moan out, forcing yourself to meet simmering hazel, heat sizzling just beneath your skin, clit itching for release as his abdomen grazes the apex of your thighs. 

“Like this?” 

A startled noise slips from his lips as you reach further over his shoulders, stroking his wings slowly. Teasing out his pleasure to have him playing nice with yours. His forehead drops to your own, brows pressing together, close enough to share panting breaths, your breasts grazing his chest with each heaving inhale. 

His lips part on an unabashed groan that licks up your spine, pooling between your legs at his deep confessions to pleasure, repeating the slow strokes to his wings. 

“Like that,” he confirms, jaw wound tight as he tries to cope with the overwhelming onslaught of stimulation. Hazel eyes warily open, a sharp glint in them as his instincts snarl and grapple with reasoning, but you want him to yield to them, not fight them. 

It seems he gets the message. 

Azriel’s palms snatch at your wrists, slamming them down on the cushioned table to keep you pinned, forcing you to take every brutal buck of his hips and you can feel as both of you swoop for that high that’s rising. His wings flare wide, their total span easily twice his height, casting a dark, dominating shadow that you know is an instinctive show of possession. 

Shadows wrap beneath the arch of your spine, clutching your hips to raise them from the table, and the angle has you going dizzy. Moans spill and babble as he pounds into you, grip remaining tight on your wrists to keep them trapped, driving in and out relentlessly until you think you might have screamed from overstimulation, panting and out of breath when you return to reality beneath him. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he growls against your skin, teeth scraping the tender length of your throat, searching for a spot to choose, to bite down on. He picks a section, pushing his teeth in, licking and sucking to push a feverish kiss into your skin, only pulling away once he’s satisfied. 

“Az,” you whine, cupping his cheeks in your hands, squeezing lightly as you arch into him. “It’s my turn.” 

“Your turn?” His hand wraps around your wrist, nosing the centre of your palm, pressing a kiss to its heel, delivering a small lick that zaps straight to your clit. His hips pull away, then push back in, able to feel as his cum begins seeping out of you. “You’ve hardly taken any of it, pretty thing. You need to be full up before moving onto me. Can’t have you going on empty, hm?” 

“Azriel!” You yelp as he rolls his hips to yours more firmly, bucking against you with enough force to nudge you further up the table. “That isn’t fair,” you squawk indignantly.

“My sweet little devil’s going to tell me what’s fair now, is she?” 

His lips curve into that smirk, and your willpower crumbles, legs wrapping themselves tighter around his waist to press him deeper. Azriel’s subsequent laugh reignites arousal in the pit of your stomach, tightening around his cock, urging him to follow through with his taunts. “Do it,” you whisper, “hurry up.” 

“You wanted me to go slowly earlier. I said you needed to be filled up, not that you needed to come.” 

“Azriel!” You gasp when he pulls out entirely, flipping you onto your front so you’re bent over for him, arms forcefully dragged behind your back to give him full control. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to me,” he muses, lining himself up. “But the evening’s too good to waste, don’t you agree? It would be a shame to have it over and done with so quickly.” 

“And you called me the devil,” you mumble into the cushioning, squirming lightly beneath him to feel the unrelenting strength of his grip. “You’re going to cry when I get my mouth on you.” 

He chuckles again, shackling your forearms to the base of your spine with his shadows, rough palms easily gripping your hips. “It’s adorable you think you’re going to make it through that far. We both know you’ve never managed.” 

Azriel leans over you, cock slowly sliding in as he settles at your back. You can feel his lips against your ear, breath fanning the sensitive expanse of your neck. “I’d tell you to hold on tight, princess, but you can’t even manage that most nights. So tonight all you need to do is lie still, and take it.” 

His palm slides beneath your jaw, raising you from the cushioning, a mocking note to his deep and honeyed voice. “How does that sound?” 

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna

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[keikikait]

hiii can i request rafe or jj reacting to the reader getting nipple piercings??

ɢᴏᴅᴅᴇꜱꜱ (ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

read my other jj fic here!

pairing: jj maybank x pouge!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 2.9k 

summary: you get nipple piercings and your boyfriend is eager to get his hands on them

warnings: SMUT 18+, smut under the cut, nipple piercings, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, dom!jj & sub!reader, mention of p in v (although no protection is mentioned, it is implied), i've never gotten nipple piercings but i tried to be as accurate as possible, although i do know that touching them or kissing them after is a big no-go, this is a fanfiction lol.

a note: the skin colour in the photo isn't correlated with the reader's skin colour. i just like the picture! and, also, a BIG THANK YOU for 500 followers! i know in the grand scheme of things, 500 isn't a lot, but i never thought i would get this far! thank you all, i love you all so much!!!!

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You pull away breathless, lifting your arms as JJ pulls your top off before tossing it aside. He pulls you into his lap, kissing down your neck as he unclips your bra, the black fabric joining the tank top discarded on the floor. JJ kisses down your neck, lips brushing over your collarbones as he slowly kisses down your sternum. You squirm in his lap, his hands roaming over your curves as you feel his cock pressing against you through his shorts. 

“Mmm, you're so soft,” JJ murmurs, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. His other hand cups one of your breasts, thumb teasing over the nipple. “You know what would really suit you, baby?” He brings his thumb and pointer finger together and squeezes, tugging at your nipple harshly.

You gasp, your back arching, your chest pressing against his. You whine as he pinches and squeezes again. “What, Jay?”

“Little piercings here,” He pinches your left nipple. “And here,” He pinches your right nipple, grinning at the way you squirm and wiggle. He leans in close, hot breath fanning over your ear as he whispers, “Fuck, it’s making me hard just thinking about it. Two little bars, just begging to be played with,” His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, tracing over the sensitive skin of your lower belly. “I bet you'd look fucking stunning if they were gold. Or maybe silver. Fuck.”

“You know,” You breathe heavily as he tugs and twists your nipples again. “I’ve been thinking about getting some.”

“Oh yeah?” JJ chuckles, giving your nipples another sharp pinch before releasing them. His fingers continue their path south, slipping beneath the thin fabric of your panties to stroke over your slick folds. “I'm more than happy to help you pick out the perfect bar.” He rubs his thumb over your clit in slow circles, applying just enough pressure to make you shudder. “Because I gotta say, imagining your cute little nipples adorned with sparkly jewellery while I eat this sweet pussy... fuck, that's even hotter.”

“I’ll get them then,” You pant out in between moans. “Just for you, baby.”

JJ groans low in his throat, hips bucking up as he grinds his cock against you. “For me? Oh, pretty girl, you have no idea how much that turns me on,” He slips a finger inside you, curling it to hit that spot that makes your legs tremble, your back arching as a strangled whine escapes your lips. “But don't forget, these pretty tits are all mine too,” His free hand reaches up to pinch and squeeze your nipples. “I want to see those piercings, feel them against my tongue when I suck on your nipples,” He adds a second finger, pumping them in and out of you faster now, thumb still circling your clit. “Gonna make you cum so hard on my fingers, pretty girl. Then I'm gonna bend you over and fill this tight little cunt with my cock.”

You squeal as he picks you up and flips you over, pinning you underneath his weight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You kept your promise to JJ.

After researching and asking around Kildare, you found your piercing studio; Prickink just across the thoroughfare on the mainland. $175 for both the piercings and the jewellery. You would get simple silver bars for now, but they had the cutest pink heart nipple rings that you wanted for after they’re all healed. Only the best for JJ.

You push the door open, walking into Prickink, greeted by the buzz of tattoo guns and the smell of rubbing alcohol, 80s rock playing softly in the background. The receptionist smiles when she sees you approach the counter, holding your ID and a wad of cash. “Hi, welcome to Prickink! How can I help you?” She's decked out in tattoos, covering her arms and chest, with a cute nose ring with a bat charm on it and large gauged ears. “Piercing or tattoo?”

“Uh, piercing,” You say nervously. “I have an appointment today at 12:30 with Yvette.”

“Alright, lemme see here…” The receptionist types away on her computer. She confirms your name before taking your ID and checking it. “Nipple piercings?”

You nod. “Yeah. Kinda nervous, but it’ll be worth it.”

She hands you your ID back. “Nerves are normal, but everything will be alright. Yvette is one of the best in North Carolina,” She types on the computer before looking back at you. “Alright, it’ll be $175 including the jewellery. We can’t put in the heart rings until your piercings heal, but you’re welcome to take them home. Will it be cash or card?”

“Uhh, cash.” You say, pulling out $175. She takes the cash and recounts it, sliding a consent form over to you to fill out and sign. You check every necessary box and sign your name, handing it back to her.

“Alright. You can go and sit down, Yvette will come get ya when she’s ready.” She gestures over to the seating area where a few other people are waiting. Some have their phones out, some reading a magazine, and some were waiting as couples excited to get their matching tattoos.

You sit on one of the chairs, pulling out your phone and scrolling, trying to calm your nerves. It would hurt, yes, but everything would be okay. JJ would be more than happy to help you clean and take care of them. You wait for almost 10 minutes before Yvette rounds the corner, calling your name. You stand up and follow her through the hallway, shoving your shaky hands into the back pockets of your shorts. 

Yvette leads you through the tattoo shop, passing a few different rooms before arriving in the last one at the end, closing the door behind you. There’s a tattoo chair, a small stool, and a shelving unit built into the wall full of supplies. “Alright, take a seat. I’ll need you to remove your top and bra. You can set them on the stool right there.”

You take off your shirt and your bra, folding them and setting them aside on the stool before sitting down on the chair, leaning back against the seat. You clasp your hands in your lap.

She sits on the small stool at the end of the chair, putting on a pair of nitrile gloves. She grabs a thin black marker and holds it up to your chest, making a small dot at the centre of your left nipple, before marking the right as well. “Alright. Any questions before I get started?”

“How long is the healing process?” You ask. “I just… I have an eager boyfriend, ya know?”

She lets out a laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one plenty of times,” She puts the marker down. “Well, it’ll usually take about six to nine months for you to fully heal. It varies person to person, and a bit if it’s done right but a good guideline.”

You nod, leaning back in the chair. “Okay. Sounds good.”

She scoots forward slightly, the stool rolling smoothly on the wheels. “I’m going to start with the left one. Deep breaths, and try not to move too much.” You nod again as she wipes your nipple with an alcohol prep pad before pulling out a fresh needle, picking up the clamp with her free hand.

It all happens so fast. One second you’re feeling the cooling sensation of the pad, the next second you’re in unbearable pain. You keep still, gripping the armrests so tight your knuckles turn white. You let out a shaky breath as Yvette slides the bar in, twisting the ball bearing closed. “Alright, one down. You need a second?”

“Yeah,” You say breathlessly, your face growing hot. “Holy shit.”

She sets the needle down, giving you a pat on the knee. “Yeah, that’s the worst part. Nerves are in there and it’s super painful. Once I’ve got the second one in the painful part will be over, and you can just sit there and look cute.”

You laugh, even though you didn’t find it particularly funny. Yvette dabs up some of the blood as you shut your eyes, taking deep breaths. “Okay. I’m ready.”

You grip the armrest again and prepare for the second needle. This time it goes a lot smoother. One pinch of the clamp, a quick swipe of the prep pad, a slide of the needle and a twist of the bearing. “And, done,” She says. “How you feeling?”

“Good,” You say. “A little lightheaded. I got cookies in my bag though.”

Yvette smiles as she puts the clamps down. “Not the first time I’ve heard that one either. It’s perfectly normal. Let me just tape some gauze over them before you get dressed again. I would recommend leaving the bra off,” She gets up from the stool and heads to the storage cabinet, picking out two thin strips of gauze with some medical tape before returning to you. She places them over your nipples, then tapes down the edges. “Keep those on until tonight, then you can take them off to shower.”

You sigh. “Alright, cool. Thank you so much.”

“No problem. Now, make sure you don’t play with them while they’re still healing. You’re gonna want to,” She chuckles. “I would also avoid all swimming, even if it's in a pool. There are a lot of bacteria that you don’t want that getting into the piercing,” She hands you a business card from one of the shelves. “Call or come back if you have any questions about healing.”

“Sweet, thank you. Have a good day.” You say, pulling your shirt back over your head. You tuck your bra into your bag before heading out of the piercing studio. You pull out one of the cookies and munch on it while you head back to your car, a small smile on your lips.

JJ is going to love them.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You push JJ down to sit on the edge of his bed, running your fingers through his hair. “I got something I wanna show you, baby.”

He smirks, putting his hands on your hips as he sits, fingers dipping under the waistband of your leggings. He leans closer, the smell of your shampoo filling his nostrils, your hair still damp from your shower. “Oh yeah? What is it, pretty girl?”

“Did you wash your hands like I asked?” You ask, moving your hands to rest on his shoulders.

He shrugs nonchalantly, not bothering to remove his hands from your hips despite your question. “Yeah, yeah, course I did. Don't worry about it,” He reaches up to grab your ass, pulling you flush against him. “Now, show me what you've got for me.” You roll your eyes, moving your hands from his shoulders to grip the bottom of your t-shirt, pulling it over your head. Your new piercings glitter in the lowlight of his room. 

JJ's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of your newly pierced nipples, his gaze fixated on the glinting metal, his cock hardening in his sweatpants. “Holy shit, pretty girl…” He trails a finger over the barbell piercing your left nipple, watching intently as it twitches with the movement. “Look at that. So fucking sexy,” He leans in, taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before switching to the other side to do the same. “Mmm, love the way it feels against my tongue, fuck you’re so fucking sexy,” He releases your nipple with a pop, looking up at you with a hungry grin. “Do you like having them played with?”

You let out such cute, soft little gasps as he rubs his thumbs over them. You nod, grabbing his biceps. “Yeah, Jay. I like it a lot.”

He chuckles, rubbing his thumb around them slowly. “Good, baby, I’m glad. You look so fucking sexy, baby. Like a goddess,” He wraps his arms around your waist and spins around, throwing you onto the bed and climbing on top of you, pinning your hips down with his own. “When they’re all healed up, you should get those rings that have the connecting chain. Wanna tug on it and hear your sweet little whimpers.”

You giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Only if you promise to play with them often,” You reach down, rubbing your fingers over his hard cock, feeling it strain against his shorts. “Got ‘em just for you, my love.”

JJ groans, hips thrusting into your touch as he grinds his hardness against your palm. “Fuck, you're killing me, baby. I'll play with them every damn day if you want,” He captures your lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim yours. Breaking away, he pants, “Need you naked, now. Remember what I said last week? I wanna eat you out and watch how you look when you cum with your nipples all pierced.” 

With swift movements, he tugs your leggings down, sending them flying across the room. He yanks down your soaked panties, pocketing them for later. “Christ, you're dripping wet already,” JJ groans, spreading your thighs wide. He buries his face between your legs, lapping at your slit hungrily. “So fucking sweet…”

You squeal, back arching as your thighs clamp down on the sides of his face. Your hands immediately fly to his hair, gripping and tugging on the blond strands. “Fuck, JJ!” He moans loudly, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core as he laps at your clit, flicking his tongue rapidly over the sensitive nub. His hands grip your ass, kneading the flesh as he devours your pussy. He pulls back slightly, blowing cool air over your wet heat before diving back in, tongue delving deep to taste your arousal. It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, his favourite taste in the world. 

“Mmm, fuck, you taste amazing, baby,” His voice is mumbled as he sucks your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before releasing with a pop. “Gonna make you cum so hard, pretty girl. Wanna hear you whine and cry for me.” He resumes his relentless assault on your clit, fingers digging into your thighs as he eats you out like a man starved, one hand going up to tweak your right nipple.

Your jaw goes slack, and you throw your head back, thighs trembling against the sides of his face. “Fuck, JJ, please!”

JJ looks up at you, eyes dark with lust, saliva dripping down his chin as he continues to feast on your pussy. His eyes are drawn to the silver studs on your cute little nipples, and his cock throbs as he slides two fingers inside you, pumping them in time with his licks and sucks on your clit. “Please what, baby? Tell me what you need,” He murmurs against you, the words vibrating against your clit and making you shiver. His free hand moves to your left breast, rolling and pinching the nipple roughly. “Wanna hear you scream my name when you cum, wanna feel your little pussy gush, but you gotta ask for permission, baby.” He redoubles his efforts, sucking harder on your clit as he curls his fingers to hit that magic spot inside you. Your body starts to quake, toes curling, as your orgasm builds.

You gasp, trying to find your voice. “Fuck, please JJ, please let me cum! I’ve been good! Please!” You tug on his hair, back arching off of the bed.

JJ smirks against your pussy, blowing more air directly onto your clit. “Alright, alright, baby. You can cum, but only because you asked so nicely,” He sucks hard on your clit, flicking it with his tongue as he pumps his fingers fast and deep inside you. At the same moment, his hand moves back up to your right nipple, rolling the stud between his fingers and tugging.

The dual sensations send you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing as your inner walls clench tightly around his fingers, pulsing with each wave of pleasure that crashes over you. JJ moans in satisfaction, continuing to lap at your spasming pussy, drinking in every drop of your release. Only when your tremors subside does he finally pull away, licking his lips clean of your juices. He gazes up at you, eyes shining with pride and desire. “That's my good girl. Fuck.”

You let out a strangled whimper as he kneels, pulling his shorts down before climbing over you. He pulls his hard cock out, fingers brushing over the tip to gather some pre-cum, spreading it out over his length as he jerks himself off. JJ grips his shaft firmly, stroking it in long, even motions as he hovers above you, his heavy balls slapping against your thigh with each pump. Pre-cum beads at the tip, leaking steadily as he gets closer to the edge.

His chest heaves with ragged breaths, abs clenched tight. “You're so fucking beautiful like this,” he rasps, his gaze roaming over your flushed skin, the glint of metal on your nipples, the messy hair around your face. “Can't wait to bury myself deep in this perfect cunt and fill it up. Fuck.” He leans over you, lining himself up before starting to push in, giving you time to adjust to his size. He pauses for a moment, savouring the feel of your hot, slick walls wrapped around him, before starting to move, one hand going to tug on your new piercings.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

let me know if you want me to do this prompt with rafe!

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[persicipen]

pearls ノ sunday

ৎ୭ — · · 1.2k ノ fem reader — pussy slapping . teasing ノ in front of a mirror ノ sunday buys you gifts — a necklace ノ he’s a little tired but a freak anyway ノ ambiguous relationship . implied soft dom sub dynamic ノ petnames — darling . dearest . dove

The fingers that belong to the young family leader circle your nape, a feather-like touch despite his own wings taut along his locks, a silvery wave of silk falling on his shoulders. Although your new necklace is loose, pearls sitting lazily on your collarbones, it feels like a collar — a tight rope around your neck, squeezing hard every time you try to pull away from him and he brings you back with a stern tug of the invisible leash.

Sunday loves you, though, right? A lover that keeps you safe, forever excited about new gifts and everything he could do for you if only you had asked.

But you’re silent.

Obedient, the right word. That is true, he would enjoy seeing you break out of his rule, but he prefers you more so nice and quiet, always ready for his commands. He himself doesn’t know how would he react if you were to deny him. Would it spark a fury in him? A despair? Lust, even?

Doesn’t matter.

What matters now is that you’re smiling so dearly in the mirror, seeing yourself with a new jewellery, a shining set of pearls brought to you from Lushanka, the oceanic planet. An expensive proof of ownership, that is.

Gently pressing on his crotch, he knows that you crave only one thing right now — something he cannot give you, not when he’s so frustrated and pensive.

Next to you, there’s a broken shell of a man, eyes empty a worn-out dinner plate instead of a plate of gold. Constant meetings filling every system hour of his routine, nibbling at his humanity, piece by piece, devouring what’s left serene in him. But he always has time for you. You bring a sliver of solace into his day, the light in his life, and your soul is more important than any wealth, any political acquisition. He wants to be the perfect man for you — for now, at least when the family still allows him to have that tiny drop of freedom where he can do as he pleases, with whoever he wants to spend the time.

With the other hand, he brushes his thumb against your cheekbone, the reflection in the mirror immediately following his action, tilting your head to look at him. Your pupils are dilated, lips parted, a fine line of sweat rolling down your forehead as you take his form into your vision. You hold yourself still, making sure to not interrupt his moment of yearning. You feel pity, yes, but simultaneously, there is something dark seeping through your thoughts, whispering how you shouldn’t complain about the circumstances. Not whilst you’re being kept warm and pampered by one of the finest men in Penacony.

That’s correct. He’s not even yours, the richest young family leader, meant to be loved by many and to never have anyone truly on his side. People usually do admire him — for his wit, charisma, and some are very fortunate to be graced with his handsome face up close if They’re his personal retainers. But you? He wants something more from you. The unspoken desire woven into the thread that keeps the pearls in place around your neck.

“Aren’t you just my darling?” Sunday murmurs in a soothing manner as his eyes dart down your neck, brushing his fingers over the lustrous beads once again. “My gift looks divine on you. Are you feeling happy, my dearest?”

“The happiest I could ever be.”

He’s absolutely delighted to see how well you’ve grown used to being around him — his ever-changing moods that sometimes turn sour, and how much better you are than anyone else that isn’t family. But that is the problem.

Sunday’s hands tremble against your collarbones, pressing on them tight as if to brace you for something he has yet to tell you.

You want to reply, to let him know that you are delighted to be given such a precious gift. However, the collar wraps tighter around your throat, the fine edge digging into your skin. You can’t help but give out a whimper at the sudden tightness. It doesn’t take long for the young man to catch on the look of discomfort in your eyes, letting out a soft chuckle as he releases the pressure on your neck. Instead, his fingers move further down, taking ahold of your nipple and giving it a slight pinch.

“I will take it that you love my gift. Very much,” he hums as he plays with your breasts, kneading them, and kissing along your jawline. His soft lips are so warm against your skin, it is almost relaxing until you feel something cold rubbing between your thighs.

Looking down, you can see his hand playing with the fabric of your panties, before his fingers find its way to the hidden clit, urging it to reveal itself with gentle strokes and caresses. In parallel, he begins to rub his crotch against your ass, wanting to give himself some form of relief until he’s done toying with your sensitive nub.

A tap. Catching you by surprise, his fingers patting flat against your flesh, parting the petals to deliver a proper spank to your pussy. In the sudden bloom of sensations, your body jolts forward, letting his hand dip further between your legs — making you open for another slap.

The salacious, squelching sounds have him clicking his tongue.

“Getting wet this urgently, yes? I’ve only just started touching you,” he whispers in your ear, the amusement apparent in his tone. “Are you perhaps a pervert, hm? Or did my sweet dove get so aroused just from looking at us in the mirror?”

Sunday slips a hand underneath the silk, gripping your inner thigh to stop you from closing your legs any further. While you aren’t really the type to get embarrassed by your own reactions, right now you can’t help but feel shame when you are met with his victorious smile as he values your beauty through the reflection.

“It’s alright, I love it when you get so worked up from the simplest things,” he chuckles before blowing a wisp of air into your earlobe. He doesn’t linger there for long and soon enough, he is peppering your neck with wet kisses, grazing your skin in a cordial manner.

It is known just how much you appreciate being spoiled with little affectionate gestures, melting with each and every token that the angelic lover grants you on every occasion.

Pulling his hand away from your core, he gives your panties one last pat, admiring how the damp fabric clings to your lips, illustrating your arousal.

“Did you know? Every pearl has a different kind of pattern and they are each unique,” he whispers before wrapping his fingers around your collar, his golden eyes staring into yours. “You’re the only one who will ever own a pair of pearls identical to these, my darling. Just like I own this one…” With that confession, his fingers pinch your clit through the silk, pulling it up to jab into your puffy cunt with the stretched underwear.

[alavestineneas]

Losing dogs

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader

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

Part 2 is here!

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

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

''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

''You shouldn't accept.''

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

''You were having a nightmare again.''

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cabbage.

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

"What do you think of me?"

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

"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You want power."

Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.

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

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

"You."

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

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

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

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

"Feed me, then."

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

They were going to be just fine.

After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.

[hatakemrs]

"Hq Boys and little things they do in their relationship. Pt1"

Warnings: None <3

Characters : Kuroo Tetsuro, Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio, Suna Rintaro.

Pt.1 Pt.2

Kuroo  would buy you gifts without any special occasion. It isn't always something fancy like gold jewellery or an expensive dress you want (although he also buys them for you). He likes to give thoughtful gifts like a keychain of an anime character you like or a flower that reminds him of you. He picks up your favourite food whenever you sound like you're sad. You casually talk about a book you liked and he would buy you the sequel to that book or more books from that author. He catches you searching for lipstick online and the next day it arrives at your door even though you didn't order it. He loves spoiling you<3

Oikawa would watch your favourite shows with you. He hates horror but he would watch a horror movie if you want to watch it on movie night. You are so excited about this show and will make theories about it and Oikawa would just listen to you and if he had watched the show he would add to your theories. He likes to go on movie dates with you. He likes listening to your reviews about the movies. At one point he might open an account on letterboxd to keep track of the movies you watched and if you love a film, he would find a similar film to watch with you.

Kageyama helps you with tasks without being asked. He has a day off from practice but you had work. Yet you wake up to find Kageyama is already out of bed and the smell of coffee reaches you. He is in the kitchen making you breakfast. When you say he didn't have to do that on his day off, he just kisses your forehead and says he likes doing things for you. He will reach for the things in the top shelf for you even though you said you could do it yourself. He just teases you for being short.

Suna would click random pictures of you. His gallery is full of your pictures, and the most random ones. You are laughing with the rest of the Inarizaki team and he will capture your laugh because he finds it cute. You would peacefully read a book or do something in the corner and he would click pictures. He even takes pictures of you sleeping(not in the creepy way) he claims you look so dreamy while asleep he can't help it. He saves the most embarrassing picture of you as his screensaver just so he can look at it when he's sad. His social media is also filled with your pics. Gotta let everyone know you're taken. 

Anyways hoped you like it <3 Will makes a part 2 . Comment which characters you want in them.

A/n: Hiii! I'm back in my Haikyuu era again! I just miss my boys sm I need more Haikyuu content fr 😭.

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Could I get headcanons for whore reader and being Aegons favourite whore or lover please and thank you 😊

Being Aegon II Targaryen favourite whore

You were the prince's favourite and that came with many perks including gifts, Gold and protection.

Aegon had spotted you one night at his favourite brothel through his wine filled hazed eyes, He thought you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen, So he paid your madame gold and took you to bed.

After that night he kept coming back for you , you didn't know why. Maybe it was because you didn’t just roll over and do your job like other whores or maybe it was because you had held Aegon after without him needing to ask.

He began to reserve you from your madame just for him so he was your only customer.

He began to bring you gifts from small sweet treats to Jewellery and expensive silk robes.

He would come to you when he needed comfort and affection. Sometimes he wouldn't even bed you, He would just lay in your arms for hours. 

Eventually he bought your freedom from your madame and placed you in a comfortable and small home and took you as his lover, freeing you from the title of whore and giving you a life.

He would visit you often to spend time with you and to bring you more gifts, he would act as if he was not a prince but a common man living with his lover.

[papaya-twinks]

just an assistant - l.m

Warnings: Angst, name-calling, mean!lando, sexism. 

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - y’all love this for real (there’s gonna be maybe one or two more parts :D)

You took a deep breath as you stepped back into the MTC, a place you thought you’d never come back to, yet hete you were. You were wearing a simple black minidress which hugged your body nicely, your hair down and body adorned with a set of rose gold jewellery. “Y/N,” Zak nodded as he saw you, his eyes roaming over your body, 

“You’re back,” he said simply, to which you nodded, fiddling with your hands slightly. You’d done so against your better judgement, Lando had treated you horribly and when you’d left, he’s called you horrible names, you really shouldn’t be here. But you were. And you didn’t know why. “Lando’s in his room,” Zak said, gesturing to one of the rooms up the stairs. 

You nodded and, almost as if by habit, went straight to the canteen area, taking one of the brown paper cups and filling it up with the same coffee Lando always liked. You walked up the stairs, balancing the cup in your hand as you knocked on the door with your other hand, waiting for a response. 

You heard a groan from inside the room, before a yell of ‘who is it?’. Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door, his annoyed expression melting into shock as he pulled you into a…hug? “Lando, the coffee,” you said, body rigid as he held you before stepping back sheepishly,, looking to the cup. “You really didn’t need to…” he said, cheeks flushed red in embarrassment at his sudden action. 

Jesus. Lando hugged you? Surely Maddie was not that bad. You handed him the cup gingerly as he put it down, his eyes on you, almost in awe. “Maddie, clear off now,” he said, without turning his head, his words directed to the blonde behind you. “What, why?” she said, bringing your attention to her sitting on the bed, pouting into her phone, her camera purposefully clicking Lando’s expensive watches in the background. 

“You’re pretty useless,” Lando shrugged, “don’t need you anymore,”. The girl let out a shriek of indignation at his words, her cheeks flushed bright red as she put her phone down. “I’m not useless!” she said, her eyes blazing, before her eyes landed on you. “You’re replacing me with her?” she snapped. “Maddie, she was here before you,” Lando said, not even flinching at her bitchy screaming. 

“Yeah, well there’s a reason she left, isn’t there?” Maddie said, rolling her eyes, as Lando scoffed. “Maddie, clear off out my room,” he repeated his words, a scowl on his face. “Fine, enjoy fucking her,” Maddie huffed to Lando as you raised a brow. “And leave the damn watch, Maddie,” Lando said, taking the golden band out from her pocket. 

Her cheeks flushed at being caught before she ran off down the stairs, leaving you standing with Lando. “Uh, your phone came,” he said, handing you the device he’d had sent off to get fixed after your nasty little drop. “Thanks,” you said, taking the device gingerly from him. You couldn’t deny one of the reason you’d worn the black dress was ro prove to Lando that you weren’t a prude, and he definitely noticed. 

“That’s a nice dress,” Lando mumbled, stepping back Io let you into the room, as he sat on the bed. “You can sit,” he gestured to one of the armchairs as his eyes roved over your outfit. You’d look so damn pretty bent over and- wait, what? Why was he thinking his? Lando couldn’t even deny the filthy thoughts in his kind as your skirt rode up a little when you sat down. 

God, you were so perfect. But you were his assistant, why was he having these thoughts? Yes, you were pretty, so, so gorgeous, but still. This was supposed to be professional. And he was not about to let you think he was soft or anything. Back to the cold and stern facade from when he first met you, then. “The coffee’s alright,” he said, muttering under his breath as you nodded, hands clasped on your lap. 

Jesus, every little thing you did sent him into a frenzy. Your hand would look perfect wrapped round his cock. You were blissfully unaware of his downright pornographic thoughts as you sat politely, your legs swaying slightly. “Can you get me something to eat? A snack or something? his voice came out a lot deeper than he had intended, almost gravelly. 

You definitely notice the change in hei voice but didn’t comment, nodding as you walked dom the stairs. Lando was going to test just how good of an assistant to could be, your stamina and how long you could go on for. God, that sounded so dirty. You returned clutching a few snacks, a croissant, a few bits of fruit, a bag of crisps, all laid out on a tray with a cup of apple juice onto. 

“Beer?” he raised a brow as he stared at the glass. “It’s apple juice,” you said as Lando nodded slowly. “Would’ve preferred whiskey instead,” he muttered. “Oh, uh, the canteen doesn’t serve whiskey,” you said, he hadn’t given you any instructions as to what exactly to get. 

“Buy some,” he shrugged. The nearest shop was 10 minutes away by car, and nearly an hour by foot. “Oh, uh,” you said, scratching your neck slightly, “I don’t have money and I walked here,”. Lando groaned internally, he didn’t have time to wait for an hour. “Take my car, I dunno,” he shrugged, opening his drawer and thrusting a set of keys into your hand. 

Your eyes widened at the small metallic key. He was trusting you with his McLaren. “Don’t dent it,” he said through gritted teeth as he pushed his card into your hand also. “Get yourself something too,”. You felt a little awkward, spending his money and that too, when he asked you to spend it on yourself. “Uh, on what?” you asked shyly, looking to him through your lashes. 

“I dunno, what d’you drink? Coke? Bubble tea like most girls?” Lando raised a brow. You were a fan of bubble tea, actually, your order not like many people, as you preferred the fruit tea to actual milk tea. “Bubble tea,” you said as he hummed. “That’s what I thought,” he hummed. “Get one and get the whiskey,”. You nodded, rushing out to the parking lot, straight to his bright McLaren. 

This was a huge responsibility, his car was probably worth more than you and you’d need to work for Lando for at least three years to even afford the engine of the car. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you opened the door of the 720s, sliding into the driver’s seat. Right. You’d need to pull it forward,as you did so, your feet being able to reach the pedals. 

You started the car, jumping as it came alive, the roar of the engine definitely being heard from the other side of the MTC. How did Lando drive this without any hesitation? Right, he probably had enough to buy hundreds of these. There were a lot of buttons, but you soon learned how to handle it, driving carefully out of the parking lot and to the shop. 

You got a lot of stares as you drove the car, staring up at the road before you carefully parked into the parking lot, making sure to lock the car before you took the wallet, clutching it to your chest as you walked into the shop. You managed to locate the whiskey Lando has specified, along with the bubble tea as you clutched the bottled to you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly to the shop assistant as you took the bottled in your hands, heading back to the car. “What the fuck?”  your eyes widened as you stared at the car. You had parked perfectly fine, and someone had evidently driven into the back, creating a dent in the back of the car. Shit. Lando was going to flip. 

Instantly, you took your phone out, dialling the number as it rang for a few minutes. “Y/N,” Lando said coldly, “can’t handle finding some whiskey?”. You brushed off his comment and continued your own speaking. “I-I, uh, something happened,” you muttered quietly as you stood by the car, before moving to sit in the drivers seat. 

“What? What happened?” Lando’s voice rose slightly. “You know what, just come back, yeah?” he asked, “my phone’s gonna die,”. You said a quick ‘bye’ before you started the car thankful it still worked, driving down to the MTC. Lando was standing outside, his hand in his pocket as he scrolled through his phone. Lando looked up when he heard the familiar rumble of his car. It looked fine. “What happened?” he asked, raising a brow. 

“I, uh,” you said, walking slowly round the back of the car. “What the fuck, Y/N?” he snapped, staring at the dent. It wasn’t remarkably big, but it was pretty noticeable as you fiddled with your hands. It hadn’t even been your fault. Had it? “How fucking stupid are you?” he ran his hand over the dent as you turned red, the words stuck in your throat. 

“I gave you one fucking task, Y/N,” he said, voice shaky, “are you fucking dense?”. You still said nothing, staring down. It truly hadn’t been your fault, but you didn’t have the courage to speak against Lando. “Well, speak,” he said, gesturing for you to do so as you stared down. “It wasn’t my fault,” you mumbled as he rolled his eyes. “Likely,” he said sarcastically 

.

“Did the lamppost drive into you then?” he asked, a scowl on his face as he looked you up and down. “It wasn’t a lamp post,” you mumbled as he groaned. “Y/N, a lamppost or a fucking bollard, it doesn’t make a difference,” Lando’s voice was harsh as you fiddled with your dress nervously.

“Y/N,” he grabbed your upper arm roughly suf down to the dent, pushing you towards it. You whimpered slightly at the rough yanking but looked to the dent. It wasn’t as bad as Lando made out, yet still bad. “Lando, someone drove into me,” you said, looking up at him from where you sat. Good, you looked so good on your knees. No! He can’t be thinking that. 

“Oh, so you’re blind too, great, just great,” he said bitterly. Coming back had been a huge mistake. “I’ll pay for it,” you said quietly as he groaned. “How? I don’t pay you nearly enough to pay for it,” Lando snapped. “Just…god, stick to making coffee,” he calmed down a bit as he watched you stand up, pulling the whiskey out. “Did you get your bubble tea?” he asked.

“Yeah,”. Now you felt even worse, his car had gotten damaged under your responsibility, even if it wasn’t your fault, and you’d spent his money, though he’d asked. He took the cup from you, peering at the contents. “Whatever,” he muttered, pushing it back into your hands and leading you back up the stairs. “Sit,” he muttered, moving you to sit into an armchair. 

“I’m sorry, Lando,” you started an apology, your eyes on him as you put the drink down. “You still fucking damaged it, didn’t you? Does an apology suddenly make it better?” Lando snapped, his tone harsh as you flinched. “I brought you back coz I thought you weren’t fucking dense,” he scowled, “but you’re clearly stupider than fucking anything,”. 

This was getting slightly out of hand. He’d wanted you back, and now he was being horrible. You couldn’t fight back the small tears that welled in the corners of your eyes as Lando froze. He’d never meant to make you cry. Lando was just annoyed - the car was expensive after all. What if what you had said was true? That you hadn’t actually done anything, and some other dick wad had? 

“Y/N,” Lando frowned. He didn’t want to break his stern facade, but he didn’t want you to cry either. “Don’t cry,” he said, voice a little rougher than he intended. You didn’t say anything, chewing on your lip slightly as you looked down, your gaze fixed firmly on the floor. “It’s just a car,” Lando muttered under his breath, “I’ll get it fixed. Just…don’t cry, alright?”. 

You watched as he moved to stand in front of where you were sitting, now not entirely sure what he was gonna do. He tugged on the string bracelet on his arm, before Lando raised his arm to pet your head gingerly, unsure what else to do. “I’m not a dog,” you mumbled, a small smile cracking across his face at your small joke. “I know you’re not,” he said, moving to sit back on the bed. 

Fuck you, Lando thought, why did it have to be you who broke down his cold exterior? 

[temis-de-leon]

Shy gn!reader confesses to the Demon Brothers

Characters: Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo and Beel (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

Part 1 , Part 3 , Dateables version

Anon request: Could I request headcanons for Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, and Beelzebub, react to shy gn crush confessing to him nervously?

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A/N: life became hard for 4 full days and writer's block hit me with the power of a thousand suns. Then I went to therapy and I immediately started writing. Here it is, folks, 1899 words.

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Mammon

There’s no doubt that Mammon loves to have fun. Either counting money at casinos or wildly drinking and dancing at various clubs, the sight of him with the occasional fling by his side is not a strange one for the demon folk.

He doesn’t look for it; it’s not like he needs to, anyway. After all, who wouldn’t like to be with The Great Mammon? He’s a catch!

But no, it isn’t something he needs to feel good. His heart beats for one thing and one thing only: money. Gold sparkling on his fingers and coins filling his pockets, what else is there to live for?

His brothers would never understand him. When Beel empties the kitchen it’s cute, but when he steals Levi’s figurines, Asmo’s jewellery and Lucifer’s wallet suddenly it’s a problem.

And what’s his punishment? Taking care of a dumb, weak, boring human.

You better leave him alone, MC! He’s a very important demon and he has very important things to do! Don’t you listen to what his brothers say about him! Listen only to him!

Also, pay him attention and ignore the others! He’s so much better, you know? Can’t you see by now? He wishes you did and he isn’t sure how he feels about it.

The pang in his chest, his reddened cheeks and his avoidant gaze aren’t things he’s used to, but they become the norm once he spends more time with you.

Enduring his brothers’ jokes and taunts is humiliating and he perfectly knows he would act the same if he wasn’t the one involved, but damn MC, why do you have to be the way you are? Why are you so easy to fall in love with?

You have to feel the same, right? With your stammering and your bashfulness, you have to feel the same.

Mammon thanks his Father when you invite him to your room out of the blue and blurt out your feelings. The situation is ridiculous, he’s sweating buckets and your hands won’t stop shaking.

He tries to confess back without directly saying he loves you.

Key word ‘tries’.

Leviathan

Love is not for him, or rather, he’s not made for love.

That’s just who he is. A shut-in who finds companionship in fiction, in the idealization of friendship, romance and loyalty. His expectations are set way to high, near long opening titles and uninterrupted rambles, and he doesn’t expect people to reach them. Is he even worth the effort?

He has internet friends who he met through online gaming and forums and he cherishes them very much, but it makes him feel lonely and insecure sometimes. What type of life do they have when they’re not gaming or role playing or just talking on video calls with him? Do they act like plain old normies, taking their partners out on dates or having lunch with their classmates after class?

He prefers not to think about it.

Your arrival to the Devildom doesn’t change his life at all. He’s curious, sure, but what are the chances of you sharing his interests? Also, you quickly become friends with Mammon, which says enough about yourself.

At least, that’s what he thinks at the beginning. Time passes, as well as the TSL quiz, and he immediately realizes that you’re not who he thought you were.

There’s no judgement in your eyes whenever he rants about the latest piece of media he has consumed, instead filled with curiosity and fascination; and not only you’re the sole person in the house that doesn’t make fun of him, but you also defend him against his brothers.

His romantic feelings for you grow strong and fast, but your friendship is what’s most important for him.

You’re so, so much better than what he initially thought, even when you remind him of himself sometimes.

The glint in your bashful gaze, the doubt in your words in search of the right ones and the everlasting fidgeting with your fingers. You are the perfect romantic interest from the perfect otome game and he can’t believe how lucky he is to be the main character.

When you finally confess to him under the comfort of the blue lights of his aquarium, you’re barely able to finish your sentences while looking at him, which in reality is a blessing, because he can’t bring himself to look at you either when he confesses back.

It’s awkward, but sweet. Kind of like him.

Satan

Romance is for him what a painting is to the viewer. A novel to the reader.

He understands the significance, the words, the colours. What the creator wants to portray and what the consumer interprets. Narrative rules, the significance of flowers, metaphors, history… All of that mixed with the abstract of the mind.

He understands.

He just doesn’t feel it. Not at its full potential, at least.

There had been partners in his life, years ago, and he knows he’d loved them, but he wasn’t in love with them. Whatever line kept him from going forward with his feelings is what made him stop trying alone.

Books and cats and the Anti Lucifer League are enough for him to be occupied. They also make him happy, so his views on romantic love are easily set aside.

He doesn’t think much of you at the beginning, mainly because he doesn’t expect you to last very long, but you quickly show an amount of potential he’s ready to exploit.

Diavolo dreams of unifying the three realms and Lucifer would do anything to not spoil those plans, so what better way to annoy his brother than through you?

It’s selfish and reckless and of course his eagerness screws the whole thing up, but it ultimately helps him realize he shouldn’t have underestimated you.

You are kind, brave and smart. You see him beyond his wrath and his academic knowledge, remembering him even in the smallest of details that surround you. It was such care and affection that made his feelings grow.

For the first time in his very long life he starts to relate to the characters in his books, his heartbeat increasing when the scenarios feel too familiar or when the dialogues replicate exactly what he yearns to say to you.

It’s thanks to his novels that he recognizes your feelings. The shy and endearing romantic interest quietly approaching the main lead, confession learnt by memory.

His first reaction is to be surprised. He doesn’t expect something like this to happen to him, let alone you being the one to reciprocate his feelings. How much luckier could he be?

Asmodeus

What better love exists than the one he feels for himself? He’s beautiful, charming, adorable, addictive and every other compliment in the book. He can’t get enough of them!

He’s obsessed with the idea of being surrounded by people, by their affections and their devotions, touching him, looking at him, singing him praises. Unfortunately for everyone else, his narcissistic tendencies only grow when those that fall under his charm feed into his “delusions”.

That’s how Mammon calls it, at least.

At the time of receiving, he doesn’t distinguish between romantic love and sexual attraction, although it’s more difficult for him to reciprocate the first one.

Deep down, hidden amongst his insecurities, Asmo believes no one would love him for his truest self. That’s why he insists on looking perfect at all times, following a strict sleep schedule and a well-balanced diet, going out to remain in everyone’s minds; always a trending topic, a sensation.

If his outstanding physique and impeccable personality aren’t enough for you to know he’s the best amongst his brothers, then his charm would do the work.

But it doesn’t.

When he purposefully makes eye contact there’s no sign of you falling for his magic and, suddenly, he finds himself at a loss of words.

He doesn’t panic too much, given that he is still a beautiful and powerful demon that could devour you in a second, but knowing that there’s no barrier between the two of you to protect his vulnerability gives him an unpleasant feeling of exposure.

Surprisingly enough, it’s also your resistance to his powers what centers his attention on you. You’re one of the very few people that knows him as he is, even with the ugly parts, and it doesn’t take too long for his affections to become obvious and somewhat desperate.

Asmo is elated when your behaviour around him changes. He recognizes the pattern, since he’s seen it many times in his fans, and he can’t believe that someone who’s seen him at his worst still considers him as beautiful as those who have only seen what he wanted to show.

Although you don’t really need to confess, due to him immediately wanting to be with you, hearing your feelings spoken out loud sends his heart into a frenzy rhythm.

The attention fuels his ego, sure, but it’s the veracity of your words what makes him want to cry out of happiness.

Beelzebub

He’s not really interested in relationships. There is a fling here or there, sure, he still has other type of urges, but he hardly thinks about it.

The feeling of emptiness follows him around like a metal ball and chain and the only consumption that can give him relief, even if temporarily, comes only in the form of food.  

He’s often seen as emotionless or famished and, although he knows he’s popular amongst many students, his height and muscles make him look too intimidating to engage further than necessary.

It isn’t something that bothers him at all. His love goes straight to his family and there’s nothing food can’t fix.

However, when he is told Belphie is the demon chosen for the student exchange program, the hole inside of him grows deeper and deeper. His urges go on a rampage and Lucifer has to give him a pep talk to drill into his brain how important it is that you are to remain uneaten.

It’s not like he’s very interested in you anyways, so leaving you alone doesn’t feel like a draining task.

Of course that changes when you physically put yourself between him and Lucifer. A stupid, idiotic, reckless decision that serves to prove how brave you are.

Your friendship quickly blossoms after that and, unlike many other people, you start seeing him beyond his hunger. That makes him cherish you even further, but it’s your dedication to helping his family what sparks a romantic interest in you.

Since he’s not that experienced in that regard, it feels a little intimidating, but you make it seem easy and effortless. The both of you are equally shy in your affections and there’s a mutual unsaid understanding that helps you build the base of a relationship, so the confession isn’t really necessary.

Still, hearing you say the words makes his heart flutter.

His response is short and blunt, but sweet in nature. He is blushing the whole time, not breaking eye contact with you, and for the first time in many years, he feels completely satisfied.

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Tagged: @darkflowerav

[brummiereader]

Binding Love (Part Two/Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After a morning of relentless mulling over your fractured marriage and place in the world, you make a quick dash out the front door before Tommy learns of your plans for the day. But when your daughter's inquisitive mind reveals your intentions, Tommy's paranoia turns its ugly head.

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst.

Word Count: 3.5K

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

" Thank you, Frances" you smiled to your housekeeper in the mirror of your vanity, fingers cradling the cold mug of ginger tea cupped within your hands, you hoped would help you sleep the night before as she finished placing the last of the spindly wired pins in your hair.

" Mam" she laid the small leafed dish of jewellery in front of you as you placed each precious gem to your skin, when the faint clanging of the last piece rattled against the ceramic plate with a brush of your fingers.

" Oh..." your eyes drifted down to your wedding ring sitting lonesome along the ridges of the handmade keepsake. The corners of your lips turning down in sadness at the ache the circular band still managed to pull within your chest.

Something so small, so simple, yet it held the weight of a decade's worth of memories. And although your husband's hand was still adorned with the gold band of vows you had made, yours wasn't. Only the lingering indent of where it once sat remained, embedded into your skin as a reminder of who you'd forever be bound to through the years of your youth you had spent together.

" Right" you rose from your seat, brushing the tear that had settled within the curls of your lashes as you made your way over to your wardrobe.

Hands brushing along the dozens of gowns hand-sewn with lace and sequins, your eyes drifted to a lone shirt of Tommy's nestled between the fabric of your clothes that had gone unnoticed when separating your belongings.

Fuck sake, you sighed to yourself at the constant reminder of his presence, releasing a stifled cry when the lasting notes of his cologne drifted towards you as you pulled it out from within your wardrobe, tightly clutching the cuffs of its arms within the palms of your hands.

You could have moved to one of the many guest rooms. But Tommy had insisted. Was it his way of making you remember, making sure you didn't forget?, your own paranoia began to nag you about the room that suffocated you every night with the reminder of the love that was shared in it, the passionate nights that once filled it.

" This one will do" you abruptly shoved it to the back of the cupboard in favour of a blouse, pulling yourself from recounting the blissful moments you found yourself gazing at through rose-tinted glasses, forgetting the reality of how dire things had become.

Happy times had been replaced with a darkened mood, an unpredictable temper that would sway back and forth to the sound of the pendulum in your foyer to whatever had displeased its owner. For when Tommy's mood was good, it was good. And when it was bad, it was very, fucking, bad.

Deciding to no longer be the kept woman, the woman that had barely a thought to herself her husband hadn't invaded, you had come to the realisation that it would be your responsibility to pull yourself out of the limbo Tommy was intent on keeping you in.

"It's quite chilly outside, Mam. Perhaps something a little warmer?" Frances voiced as her hurried steps raced towards you in a panic after noting the sheerness of the top you had chosen, sheer enough to see a peak of thrills from your brassiere.

" They say it will be mild later today" you shrugged off your gown into a bundle of fabric on the floor as you caught the worrying concern in her eyes.

" Perhaps, perhaps a cardigan then, if it gets too...cold" you relented, watching the relief wash over her as she eagerly searched behind you for a wooly garment that would cover you enough to get you through the front door without your husbands raging jealously making itself known to all those unfortunate enough to be within close vicinity.

" That's better" Frances adjusted the back of your fleecy shawl as you looked at the reflection of yourself in the weathered glass of your bedroom window, pulling the buttoned clothing around the curves of your chest.

Still, a kept woman.

" Elsie, come on! We're going to be late!" you called up the stairs, furiously tugging at the prickling fabric of your cardigan, itching the back of your neck as you paced the foyer. Eager to get going before the sound of your husband's phone call ended, and he learnt of your day's plans.

" Where's my pony? I can't find it!" You heard an avalanche of toys being tossed onto the wooden floors of her bedroom as she searched for her most cherished of toys.

Come on, come on, your body began to panic as you rolled forward from your heel to your toes to see the back of your husband drifting left and right between the crack in the door, receiver still in hand as he gave his orders to the poor soul on the opposite end of the line.

" Elsie!" You called after your six-year-old for a second time, perching on the bottom step of Arrow Houses's grand staircase as your head craned up to see what was taking her so long, when her bouncing curls and plump cheeks suddenly appeared, hopping down each wooden slab with her treasured horse in hand.

" Go, go, go" you ushered her along, simultaneously attempting to tie her hair into a plated braid with each skipping step of her booted feet along the marble floor as your eyes nervously darted to Tommy's office that had now, suddenly gone quiet.

" Ow Mummy, you're hurting me!" Her hand flew to her head in protest as you tried to twist the band around to keep her hair in place.

" I'm sorry darling, but we'll be late for the bus and Mummy's interview if we don't get moving" you winced as the skin of your fingers dragged along the tight elastic, finally pulling the last of her locks through.

" Daddy!" She screeched, turning her head and feet to the sight of Tommy appearing from behind his office door.

Shit.

" Morning princess" a smile grew on his face as she bounded into him, squeezing her little arms around his waist as he shuffled forward from foot to foot until he reached you, inches from making it out the door before the interrogations began.

" Sweetheart" he pressed a longing kiss to the side of your head, hand threading into the locks of your hair as you shrugged away from the charade of a happily married couple he was adamant on maintaining in front of your daughter.

" Car's waiting outside" he said as his fingers settled on Elsie's shoulders stood behind her, her petite hands clutching onto his as his eyes roamed over your choice of outfit.

"But mummy said we're taking the bus" your daughter pouted up to the frown of confusion creasing on Tommy's forehead.

" The bus?" Your husband's eyes darted up to you as you adjusted the bag in your hand, feeling the familiar heat of his piercing stare begin to burn your face.

" I thought you were meeting Linda and Ada to go over her wedding plans?" Tommy's frown stayed firmly knitted between his brows as he watched your fumbling fingers pull out your small silver pocket mirror, wiping the corners of your ruby-stained lips.

"Well, won't you need the car for that?" You heard a heavy sigh of irritation follow his questions at your silence. The small brown haired barrier between you both, stopping him from letting his annoyance slip and forcefully demanding it from you instead. " Y/N?"

" I have somewhere to be first" you snapped the mirror shut as you cleared your throat, when the innocence of your daughter's curious mind revealed your true plans for the day.

" What's an interview?"

Double shit.

"You have a job interview?" Tommy scoffed a stifled laugh of disbelief, shaking his head as his veiny hands straining with annoyance came up to brush down his mouth.

" Something Mummy has no business in doing, Elsie" the tone of his voice deepened, scolding you through his reply to your daughter's inquisitive mind.

You were slipping further away from him with each passing day. Why wasn't he told about this? He was slacking, his men slacking, Tommy thought to himself as his breath became heavy, his shoulders tensing with anger as you continued to ignore his questions to pat the creases that had already begun to appear in your daughter's school dress when Tommy's eyes suddenly darted to the blouse you had chosen, peaking through the open button of your cardigan that had slipped through its hole.

" An interview" he quietly mumbled with a breathy exhale of suspicion as you quickly pulled the front of your top around your chest.

Rising to your feet, your eyes caught sight of his glaring anger in the silence that weighed heavy between you. A stare intent enough to have you believe that it was you, who had done something so atrocious, that it deserved his sour reaction.

" Elsie, what do you think of Mummy's new...clothes?" Tommy broke the tension as his eyes stayed firmly fixed on you, using your daughter to have his displeasure with your outfit made known.

" Pretty" she grinned a toothy smile as her hands reached out to feel the soft fabric. " Like the feather dancers at Uncle Arthur's work" she blushed shyly at the beauty her mother radiated and the many sparkling jewels that adorned your skin she dreamed you'd one day let her wear.

" Thank you, my sweet girl" you stepped forward, brushing your fingers through the locks of her hair when your eyes cast up to the protruding bone of your husband's jaw inches from your face, his heavy breath fanning across your lips.

" Go get your school bag, love" Tommy let go of your daughter's shoulders as she merrily skipped away from the gap he was closing between you.

" Feather dancers. So a whore, then?" He mumbled through gritted teeth as he pulled the front of your cardigan to the side, fingers sweeping under the top of your exposed lingerie. " You gonna whore yourself out for this job too, eh?" He cocked a brow as you pushed past him.

" It's just fabric, Tommy" you straightened your clothes as you waited on your daughter.

" Elsie, come on, let's go" you urgently reached your hand out for her to take as she fumbled with her coat when Tommy abruptly pulled you back into his body.

" What happened to you, hm? I don't even fucking recognise you anymore" you felt his grip tighten around your arm as he quietly voiced his opinion on what he believed was a change in your personality.

"What I wear is no longer your concern, now is it Tommy?" You responded in a hushed voice as you pulled away to your daughter patiently waiting by the door.

"I'll race you there" you smiled down at your dimpled cheeked child as she eagerly nodded her head.

" We have a whole fleet of cars, Y/N. Y/N!" He called after you, hands on hips as he stood at the bottom of the winding stairs. Watching you jog off with your giggling six- year-old before his eyes flew up to the second floor and the paranoia he needed to settle.

" You're late" Linda clicked her tongue, patting the seat beside her as you arrived in a tangled mess of hair, slipping garments and rolling eyes at the soon-to-be Shelby members' orderly manner.

" First, let's go over the itinerary" she pulled out a floral notebook, her fingers scrolling down the many pages or arrangements she had already made for her big day.

" Goodness Linda, can we not have some tea, or perhaps something a little stronger to get us through this joyous occasion" Ada sent you a playful wink as you shrugged off your bag, settling into the chair between them.

" How are you?" Your sister-in-law probed, quickly noting the deep bags of exhaustion under your eyes and the heavy sigh accompanying them. " Let me guess, my dear brother?"

" He went and pulled a Tommy special again, Ada" your hand trembled up to your brow, pinching the six months worth of stress you couldn't seem to rid yourself of.

Shakey hands, sleepless nights, you thought to yourself, burying your fingers under your legs to hide your rattling nerves. Was it all worth it?

" Yes, I did hear about that" she sent you a sympathetic smile of understanding. Knowing the lengths her brother would go to make his point, as he continued to stubbornly dig his heels in.

" I think the whole of Birmingham did" a sudden wave of shame reddened your cheeks with the learnt knowledge that every living soul in the fogged city was now aware of your and Tommy's strained relationship.

"It's been postponed, the...divorce that is" you mumbled, barely able to mutter the catalyst that caused said blaring row. The word alone, causing your stomach to twist into an unbearable ache for the love that was still there for him.

"And your interview, this morning?" Ada's attempt to change the heavy topic of conversation was gratefully welcomed when a smile began to dimple into your cheeks. For your trusted sister-in-law had seen the stress the separation had put on you, been at the brunt end of her brother's phone calls as he accused her of spurring on your decision to end the marriage.

"I got the job" you scooted your hands from their numbing position, fingers brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as she matched the excited grin on your lips.

" I'm meeting him, my boss, for drinks later. To go over the finer details, and in celebration for his newly hired typist...me" you giggled as a surge of confidence bubbled in your stomach at your first step into becoming an independent woman when Ada's smile suddenly dropped.

" Him...drinks?" her eyes began to widen, darting to the side of your cheery smile at the young peaked cap man sat a couple of tables behind, tipping his hat before slipping away.

"Y/N perhaps drinks are not..."

" Ephesians chapter five, verse two..." Linda interjected into the conversation her rosey notebook had taken all her attention with.

" Ada, what is it?" your brow creased, ignoring the beginnings of Linda's religious lecture, her eyes snapping back to you as she swiftly clutched her fingers around your hand.

"Ada?" You quietly mouthed when your gaze drifted over the concern filling her sapphire eyes, the same concern you saw in France's that very morning, the realisation your giddy stupidity had clouded, suddenly hitting you.

It was just a drink to celebrate, he didn't have to know? And if he found out, surely he'd understand? It was a new job, you couldn't turn the offer down, it would be impolite. You were separated...you and Tommy separated.

" Wives, submit to your own husband. As to the lord..." Linda's ill-timed words of advice drifted to you as you released your hand from Ada's clutches.

As the continued martial counsel buzzed relentlessly in your ear, you let your body slump into the cushioned fabric of your chair until the drowning religious verses muffled with the sounds of twirling spoons tapping against their porcelain tea cups, scrapping knives cutting freshly baked cakes until nothingness, complete silence.

How could you have been so stupid? So naive to have thought you could support your daughter on a mere typist's wage? That Tommy wouldn't move heaven and earth before he'd see the likes of you working so closely with another man? That word wouldn't get back to him about your planned drinks?, you thought to yourself as the distant sound of Ada calling your name echoed through each delayed blink of your welling eyes.

Divorce, another one of your stupid ideas, from your stupid list of stupid things you thought you could achieve, you continued your onslaught of self-inflicted insults as a tear rolled down the slope of your cheek.

And the worst thing about it all, about the whole fucking ordeal...you still loved him. Still, hopelessly in love with him. Pathetic, a hand shook your arm as your head cast down, remembering the cascade of decisions that had everything fall apart.

For when you no longer needed the guiding hand of your husband, his opinions nor protection as you began to blossom into a woman and spread your wings, came Tommy's paranoia. Fear of losing you to life's wonders, to another man, your husband's clutches began to tighten to the unbearable point where every waking breath wasn't without him looming behind you.

And yet you soldiered through, the thought of separation too torturous to contemplate as he continued to tighten his chains around you until he pushed you to the point where a tearful outburst had you asking for the dreaded seven letter word, an outburst that finally had you seeing the man your husband had kept in the shadows. The real, Thomas Shelby.

" Flowers. A dozen red roses on each side of the altar. Like the ones my Artie picks for me" Linda's voice suddenly snapped you from your thoughts, her insufferable happiness searing through the stained memories you shared with Tommy.

Maybe she was right after all. Submit to your husband. The only sensible, optional choice. Right?

Bolting two steps at a time to your once shared bedroom, Tommy threw open the door, eyes wide as he scanned the room.

You were seeing someone, fucking someone, he told his raging paranoia as he began to wade through your belongings, pulling your cupboard draws out one by one in search of something, anything that would confirm his suspicions.

" Fuck!" His hand slammed the last drawer shut, finding nothing that would give him the justification to interrupt your days plans and confront you about your lies.

What the fuck was he doing?, he perched himself on the edge of your vanity, fingers threading through his hair as a heavy sigh of exhaustion left his lips. He was losing you, he told himself, burying his head in his hands as he swallowed down the nagging guilt of his own making creeping up his throat.

You loved him, needed him. You were just...Tommy refused to believe otherwise, refused to accept your separation as he pulled a cigarette from within his suit jacket when a smack of reality hit him with the winking shine of your gold wedding ring catching the corner of his eye.

Puffing a cloud of smoke from his lips, Tommy rubbed the small band between his fingers, lifting it to his face to see his engraved initials entwined with yours inside of its metal frame.

Was that when you began to distance yourself from him? After your wedding? When you no longer sought out his advice, cared to sit and watch him work, choosing rather to meet new people, go new places without him? To... modernise? he cleared the bitter taste of resentment from his throat, clutching the lone piece of jewellery within his hand, clutching onto the remnants of your marriage for dear life before tossing it onto the table for all to see like you had your marriage.

" Just what are you up to, hm?" Tommy's distrust quickly returned, feeling hurt by the sight of your wedding ring laid cold on its ornate tray as he picked up the small photo frame of you and Elsie he had taken on a trip to Brighton many moons ago.

" You better not be lying to me darling. You know what happens when..." Tommy's eyes drifted from your portrait to the mug of cold tea sat on your vanity. It's distinct smell, awakening his senses and anger in one quick, sweeping moment.

Ginger.

Commonly used for insomnia. But also consumed in regular doses as a form of contraception. A tea Tommy would tease you about in your early years of dating with it's uselessness as you refused to rely on his preferred, and most notoriously unreliable method of, pulling out.

It had been many months since you and Tommy had shared your martial bed, many months since you basked in the warmth of each other's bodies.

You weren't fucking him. So who were you sleeping with?, Tommy seethed at the idea of another man touching you that wasn't him, all logical thinking swiftly taken over by a blazing fury behind the viscous storm brewing behind his eyes at the lies he was convinced you had told him. Lies he'd get to the bottom of before the day was over.

" My car, now!"

Next Part

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219 @whereismymindnow

[f1girliefics]

Living the Luxury Life with Charles Leclerc

You were never one to love luxury.

You preferred simple things in life.

But with a Formula One driver as your boyfriend, luxury is unavoidable.

Dripping in gold.

That is how you feel on a daily basis.

Not to say you hated it, but it did make you feel a little uncomfortable.

You weren't dating Charles for the money. You were dating because you love him.

But he had a way of showing his affection.

Jewellery, designer clothes, bags, and shoes. He often took you on small vacations to very beautiful places.

He would say it was his way of showing his love to you.

Your camera roll was filled with beautiful pictures of you and Charles, mostly Charles.

You took many photos of him in various places, when he was not looking or when he was modeling to you.

You would say those simple moments of kisses under the moonlight meant everything.

It meant so much more than the private jets and designer clothes.

[whatdudtheysay]

Part 1.

Lemme cook....

Y'all I'm thinking of.... Royal army leader Toji whose life long goal was... You. Your kingdom.

He wanted it all. Ever since he met you when you first turned 18, he was infatuated. You were graceful, kind, beautiful, soft, generous....fuck.

But life wasn't fair. He was the head of the royal army, not some ditzy prince who'd meet you at a ball and fill your little head with compliments and promises of affection...only to take control over your kingdom as a husband should do.

And was the kingdoms only heir, that was what would happen. He even heard you crying to your lady's maid about it one night while he was heading to your father's study.

Poor little thing.

Toji wanted you. No...that was an understatement. He needed you. He needed you so bad It was painful. He'd treat you better than any of those annoying Princes. He would worship any breath you took....

But like he knew....life wasn't fair.

Little did Toji know....you had somewhat of a crush on him too.

On the day you turned 18 and had the most boring birthday party, most of it was spent sitting down on the third throne your parents had created for you. Or...paid for it to be created. They hated getting their hands dirty.

Comfortable but not too much. Pure gold they said. It was becoming boring. But you couldn't complain. You were blessed to be born as the princess. The only princess of your kingdom.

So, you sat straight, chin up with a soft smile as thousands of villagers and merchants came through, giving you different gifts, gold, jewellery... etcetera.

You wanted to use the excuse of needing the bathroom but just then, the trumpets sounded and in came the royal guards. Your eyes lightly widened when you saw him.

First lieutenant, Fushiguro Toji.

He was tall as shit and handsome as hell. 6ft and 2 inches of pure perfection....those forest green eyes, that scar that slashed against his lips...his muscular physique. He was more of a man then those princes your parents have been trying so hard to introduce you to.

He dropped to his knee to bow deeply to you, his men doing the same.

"it is my pleasure to finally meet you, your Highness." Toji greeted. "May I?"

You nodded slightly, stretching your hand out. Toji smirked in a way that had your heart skipping unhealthy beats as he moved closer, taking your gloved hand in his before pressing a gentle, almost tender kiss against your hand.

Your father noticed whatever was going on between you and cleared his throat, prompting Toji to gently let your hand down as if you were made of glass.

He gave one last bow before leaving .

Now that was a man you'd be fine with marrying....

.

That night, Toji was pulled aside by none other than the king himself.

"Lieutenant Fushiguro....I'd be grateful if you didn't openly ogle my daughter." Your father told him in a firm but calm way.

"ogle?" Toji raised a brow.

"Yes. Ogle. Besides I'll need your assistance. The Duke from the northern regions will be here this Sunday morning to meet my daughter. You'll guard them." Her father ordered.

Toji kept quiet. He knew what your dad was doing.

It was the royal and rich way of telling him to "mind his place."

But Toji stayed steely gazed and nodded.

"of course, your Highness." He spoke flatly.

Your father gave him one last lingering glance before walking off.

He sighed deeply and glanced at the way your father disappeared.

Sure, your father said he shouldn't ogle you...but he never said he couldn't talk to you. Plus, he'd be in the palace for a while...

What better than to acquaint himself?

-----------

I wanna make this a series so y'all, lemme know 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

A/n - Y'all I'm so sorry about the taglist and all but I'm so disorganised. I'll get the people from the last taglist together and then try to get shit together<3

STILL TRYING TO WORK ON THE MASTER LIST.

Tags - @flamey-comet, @smolbeanzzz, @pandoraium, @hana-patata,

Thanks for support ↑ - if you wanna be added just ask <3

[starlight-incarnate]

House of Feänor as Aesthetics:

Fëanor  —  loud voice, commanding presence, analytical, natural leader, piercing eyes, foggy hillsides, black boots, tipping their head back to breathe the air, mirrored lakes and everything below the surface, tearing leaves from trees, blunt sarcasm, long dark hair, deep sleeper, rotting tree stumps, black leather jacket, songs that makes you want to create a storm, rebellious, ambition, unstoppable passion, fast trains, polaroids, empty castles.

Maedhros — walking silently, stronger due to all the stuff meant to kill them, ignoring their mental health issues, fiery red hair, crumbling marble, oversized hoodies, raw voice, lingering touches, faint music in the distance, calming down from a panic attack, long heavy cloaks, cold hands, disillusioned with the world, insomnia, unhealthy habits, sighs made visible by cold night air, strong hugs, never sleeps, loud music, freckles, dark under-eyes.

Maglor — hypnotising smiles, a broken mind, melancholy, driving through mountains and the woods, iced coffee, the faint feeling of raindrops on your cheeks, ripped jeans, tight hugs, whispered compliments, deep conversations, late night texts, nimble hands, thin blades, white lilies, vertigo, unkept journals, lightning and thunder, rhythms so raw the heartbreak is showing, shattered glass, walking alone on a cold night, silver necklaces, regret.

Celegorm — bright eyes, climbing rock formations, cold-hearted, hard breathing after running, wood cabins, gladiator arenas, wicked smiles, twisted branches, wild hair, growing more and more dangerous, night drives, adrenaline rushes, bruises, bloody cloaks, running from society, breathless laughing, that animalistic unpredictability, silver and leather bracelets, strong coffee after a sleepless night, city lights from a high rise, addiction, barking dogs, hurricanes.

Caranthir — ironic smirks, bitten nails painted black, lightning in summer, empty threats, sunglasses hiding dead eyes, thick chain jewellery, temperamental, goes to car races just to watch the crashes, deep glares, tongue/lip piercings, midnight walks, lightbulbs burning out, diamonds, crushed ice, a glint of cat eyes in the dark, gold coins in storm drains, cold hands, storm clouds rolling in, theatres, suppressed emotions, wrought iron gates, motorcycles. 

Curufin — cherries and Diet Coke, white marble, a studio apartment on the 67th floor, tattoos, neon lights, sweetened coffee, smudged makeup, too-loud music, cursive notes written in red ink, veiny forearms, sharp canines, fresh snowfall, high rise buildings, white light, sheer robes with nothing underneath, fog, stained glass windows, colourful hair, slow heartbeats, long-forgotten love, cold mountaintops, eternal silence.

Amrod — burnished copper, feverish eyes, hues of orange and gold, stars and spades, brewing tea, freckles, hardwood floors, poisonous flowers, listens to Hozier, messy hair, fake circle glasses, bullet point notes on a restaurant napkin, comfortable silence, broken wings on insects, old hungers, the whispering of trees, kicking stones on deserted paths, forgotten places, origami stars, old overgrown stone castles, morning mist, horse riding.

Amras  —  misplaced keys, wandering aimlessly, selectively mute, deep lakes hiding secrets, pine trees, restless nights, misunderstood, reliving the same day over and over again, graphic tees, dead moths, visual mind, muffled screams into a pillow, listens to asmr, doc martens, profanity, burned cigarettes, zoning out often, heart fluttering nervously, confusing satellites for stars, comic filled bookshelves, radios, old jeeps, glowing keyboards.

Celebrimbor — ravens, white-hot metal, the darkest shade of black, glittering skin, low waist pants, stars falling, the heat lingering in the evening, petals falling off dead flowers, trusting the wrong people, blue veins, cobblestone paths, linoleum tiles, bruises/scars easily, the heat lingering in the evening, cities awake late, card games, overanalysing everything, shiny fabrics, the slamming of a shot glass, the sting of betrayal.