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fukcnoplease · 6 months

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Things always go wrong

Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5

Danny paced the halls of pariah dark’s castle, well his castle but even after a few years he wasn't used to that, as Frostbite watched in silence. His king isn't usually this restless before a council meeting but his distress was understandable. As his eighteenth birthday approached the council was getting more and more pushy for Danny to take up his role as king. Frostbite had used his leeway to allow the young king time to grow up and in the four years since his first transformation he had only been called to council a handful of times. It was an impressive feat less because they needed a king and more because the observers were anxious to keep the young king on a leash.

This council meeting was called hastily as the anti-ecto laws had been passed recently and the GIW as well as the Fenton parents had become bolder in their pursuit of ghosts. The Fentons had almost captured one of Danny's rogues and it was too close of a call for the council to overlook.

On top of that Dani was supposed to be coming home today. The young clone had taken to traveling the world as soon as she was free to. Her unstable nature had forced her home only a month after departing and it had taken months to convince Danny to let her go off alone again. Her destabilization had been easy to explain, as a clone she had been created without a ghost core and with continual use of her powers and no way to replenish her energy she had used her own body's ectoplasm to feed her powers. Frostbite was unsure if she would ever form her own core as her creation was unique but Danny had pushed. The idea Danny had come up with was to take a piece of his own core and give it to Dani, maybe jump-starting her own core cultivation in the process.

After defeating pariah dark Danny had begun absorbing his core, a way of proving his claim to the throne Frostbite had explained, and with it his own core had almost doubled in power. While unstable itself as it was still settling into its new power, it was possible to take a sliver and still keep the core at a healthy level. If Danny pushed for a bigger piece than strictly necessary, well no one but Frostbite would ever know that.

The council had rioted at another ghost having a piece of the king's core, it was usual for families to share cores in times of need but a king having a royal family was unheard of. Some of the council was against it all together and some were quick to try and coronate Dani a princess. Danny did his best to shield her from the council and made her promise to visit at least once every few months and call weekly. It had been a battle but Dani had accepted conditions as well as a phone Tucker had made for her. Then she was off, traveling the world and bringing back souvenirs and stories.

A couple years had passed like that and they had finally settled into a comfortable rhythm. A rhythm rudely interrupted by Danny’s looming birthday and his parents lack of self control. He was supposed to be at Sam’s house, ready to hug Dani when she arrived and with a whole day of movie marathons and nachos planned. Instead he was stuck pacing his entrance hall as Sam kept him updated on the happenings in the living realm.

“Your majesty,” Frostbite rumbled, “perhaps it is time you enter the council’s chamber. An intermission can only last so long.”

The monarch hummed but didnt stop pacing. Every turn caused his layered cape to billow behind him in a strange way, as if it was floating underwater rather than being manipulated by wind. The king's crown had dulled from a fiery bonfire into a thin misty glow that wrapped in a circle over his head. Jazz would tease him for it, ‘It looks like the aurora borealis, your love of the sky bleeds into everything doesn't it?’ and she was right, though he would never admit it. Even as he combed his hand through his hair and the crown, the misty fire dissipating around his hand before gathering again, it still twinkled as if far away stars were shining in the crowns light.

Danny spared little thought to his regalia as he paced. A wave of dread had come over him midway through the arguing and he had called a pause so they could recollect themselves. He had tried to check in with Sam but she wasn't responding. He had heard nothing from Dani either and something deep within him was screaming something was wrong. He couldn't abandon a council meeting on a hunch and honestly it was one of the few times he didn't want to have to abandon the council meeting. If only because it would mean nothing was wrong.

Dani had had some close calls over the years and while she had really come into her powers she wasn't as strong as Danny and the one time she had been hit by Maddie Fenton still held fresh in Danny’s mind.

His phone buzzed.

Sam had replied.

Eco-Terrorist: We cant find Dani

It was the only message Danny needed before he was off. Ripping a hole in the dimension himself as he crossed back to his preferred plane. He barely noticed Frostbites thoughtful hum as he moved to bring the news of the king's departure to the council.

The precious seconds Danny took to arrive at Sam’s house were spent spiraling as to all the worst things that could have happened. The fear doubled as he stepped through Sam’s wall to find her holding Dani’s phone and pacing herself. Tucker sat at the desk scouring what looked like security cameras on his laptop as Danny popped back into view.

If Sam yelped it was only because she was too stressed to try and cover it up.

“We found her phone in Amity Park, she hadn't been responding and it had been almost an hour since she was supposed to show up.” Sam stressed, she was flexing her hands around the phone.

“Since she usually messages us if she is going to be late we decided to check if everything was alright. When we saw she was in the park and hadnt move in a while. We left immediately.” Tucker added. He had a wobble to his voice and a shine to his eyes. Danny gritted his teeth. “All we found was this.” Sam said as she threw Dani’s phone on the bed as if it had personally been the thing to commit the crime and went back to pacing, flexing her hands in and out of fists.

“Do we have any security footage that might help?” Danny asked.

“Ive been looking but the park doesnt have much cctv except around the perimeter or playground. Its been useless. All Ive seen is the Fenton-mobile.” Tucker paused, Danny could hear him swallow as the same thought passed through all their heads. “You… you dont think…”

“Ill go check the lab.” Danny said before he vanished. Already making his way through town as Sam and Tucker raced to follow him.

It didnt take long for Danny to make it to his house, the ghost shields were down but the Fenton-mobile was nowhere to be seen. It gave Danny little hope but he made his way down to the basement, transforming into his human form just in case. He made his way through his kitchen and down the stairs where he looked into the lab and into his worst fear.

Dani lay still on a metal table, restraints on her arms and legs and waist as a trickle of ectoplasm dripped from her left arm onto the floor. She wasnt even in her ghost form. He jumped the stairs and made it to her in two strides.

“Dani? Can you hear me?” Her head was lolled to the side but her eyes were open, if only barely. She blinked and squirmed slightly, making a grumbling sound before going still again. She was alive, likely drugged, definitely bleeding out. Her arm had a gash in it and two tubes attached to needles lay on the floor beside her. The tubes were tangled and thrown about, as if someone had tripped on them and then let them be. Rage bubbled within Danny but he forced himself to focus. He would not let Dani bleed out because he was too busy seething at his parents. He grabbed whatever he could use as medical supplies and wrapped Dani’s arm before trying to break her restraint.

Electricity coursed through him and he cursed. Refusing to let panic take over he turned to his parents computer instead. There had to be something that could undo the restraints and regardless he had to wipe whatever information they had on Dani. What he found was a conversation log of Maddie Fenton and an Agent W discussing payment and proper handover specifications for a ‘perfect specimen’ Maddie had found. The money was staggering and Danny’s rage almost made him crush the mouse he was holding.

At one point, Sam had offered up the idea of destroying the lab and joining Jazz at Gotham U where she had chosen to go for college. They had toyed with the idea, saying it was for the future or it was a last resort, but ultimately never gone through with it. It was a bad idea to drag a meta equivalent to Gotham and in all honesty, Danny wasnt comfortable leaving Amity. He hated leaving the town limits even if necessary, he couldnt imagine choosing to live somewhere else. But right now, staring at his bleary, injured, unstable sister, he decided he would have to.

His rogues would be pissed and he didnt really have a solid plan but he refused to let this happen again. To anyone.

It was little hassle to find the unlock to the restraints and erase the computer completely. His parents didn't trust the cloud and the physical copies they had would be lost in the fire. Tucker had copies of everything anyway. Dani moved to sit up but really only managed to roll off the table. Danny caught and he shared some of his ectoplasm to try and help her heal. It wasnt much but she started to regain lucidity.

“Danny?” she whispered and Danny hummed in response. Their cores hummed at each other, the harmony encouraging her healing. A boom rattled the building, it was far away but it snapped Danny back to the present. They didnt have time to sit there, he didnt know when his parents would be back and he needed to leave.

He laid Dani on the floor as he went around and dismantled as many things as he could, leaving the vulnerable pieces in the open. Finally he turned to take the ectoplasm filter that powered the entire house. When he ripped it off its mantle alarms started blaring and he turned and grabbed Dani, hauling her up into his arms as he ran up the stairs. He heard her giggle something about bumpy rides and he was out the door and barrelling towards his beat up car parked across the street.

Jazz had given it to him for his sixteenth birthday. Apparently she had originally planned to buy it for herself for her move to Gotham but Sam had managed to convince her parents to buy Jazz a brand new car. Something about the public transportation system being dangerous and it being the first thing Sam had asked for that had been manageable. It was beat up and an old red but Danny loved the car and used it often. He worried he would have had to keep his parents away from it, in case they try and ghost proof it but they never even noticed it. He parked it across the street and they just assumed it was the neighbors. No one had lived in the houses around them for years.

He shoved Dani into the passenger side before hoping the hood and sliding into the drivers seat. He didnt know he could do that.

Shoving his key into the ignition the engine roared to life. He managed to get down the street before his house exploded. The shockwave sent the car forward and he managed to catch Dani’s head before it met the dash. His windows rattled but none of them broke, a small victory he thought.

His mind flashed to all the things he had had in his room, his home. His memories, his souvenirs from Dani, all his space and nasa memorabilia, all his clothes and any pictures he thought were important. His family, his friends, his school, his only solid portal to the Infinite Realm.

His emergency supplies.

“Fuck.” he whispered as he kept driving. Dani giggled and said something like ‘language’ but Danny was too busy swerving through traffic to hear her. His phone buzzed and he jolted, he maneuvered to pull it from his pocket as he tried to check it only to barely miss an oncoming car and drop it into the footwell of Dani’s seat. He cursed again and kept driving. He wasnt going to stop until he was well and out of Amity. He focused on driving and harmonizing with Dani as he drove.

As they raced across Amity his core began to pulse with panic. The lingering pain from losing his home exploding into waves of fear.

He wasnt stopping. The pulsing grew more intense and Dani whimpered in her sleep. He tried to calm down but something felt so intrinsically wrong with leaving and his core felt like it was going to burst.

The pressure grew as they got closer and closer to Amity’s border and as they crossed it something in Danny popped.

He almost blacked out from the pain. The car swerving as he tried to regain control of himself. Something had broken and it felt like he was tilted on an axis. He could barely see and was forced to pull over. His breathes came in short painful gasps and he bit back a scream. He was trying to ride through the pain when his phone rang. Grasping for it he picked up and brought it to his ear.

“Danny? We saw the explosion, are you ok? Did you find Dani?” Sam said, crackling over the phone.

“Mhm. Dani is with me. We are going to Gotham.” Pain cracked his voice as he struggled to breathe. “ ‘s not safe. Need Jazz.” Was all he could manage before he was heaving.

“Danny! Stay where you are. We have ectoshots with us and we can-” Sam was cut off by an explosion behind Danny’s car. He whipped around to see a white van crashing through traffic. Danny slammed his foot on the gas and turned back to the road. The pain in his chest dulled as his desperation to protect Dani slammed back in full force.

“Meet. In. Gotham.” Was all he could growl before he hung up the phone and drove in what he hoped was the direction north east.

currently obsessing over dpxdc shenanigans

I just love seeing danny act like a cornered animal

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ghcstao3 · 1 month

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(part 2) (cw fictional drugs, mild body horror, mild torture)

Shifters should be born, not made. That’s one of few things that science has been able to say for certain about the biology (and ethics) of the species.

Of course, this never stopped those truly motivated—for a few years now, there’s been a serum circulating black markets and cartels and terrorist rings, a dangerous, potent thing that allows for the temporary rewrite of human DNA; for just a handful of hours, this serum allows any non-shifter to gain a shifter’s abilities, often with the goal of making them stronger, deadlier when it comes to picking off their enemies.

Obviously, this serum comes with a few cons: a human cannot determine what animal a serum will give them until it is taken, and because its effects are only temporary, the substance becomes highly addictive. One taste is never enough—but after so many continuous uses, the drug’s effects change into something far more sinister. Potentially fatal; one might lose their mind if they’re lucky, or become some deformed half-thing stuck between human and animal if they’re not.

There’s a reason, scientists will say, that sometimes genetics, DNA is not to be tampered with to such extreme lengths.

But with this serum comes a rumour: somewhere out there exists a more permanent solution, a serum to completely change someone, to make a shifter. Something so strong that it can transform a person, though at a high risk of something going wrong.

This serum does exist, and certainly does hold a risk of things going wrong—the survival rate within days of injection is a measly 5%. The human body is not built to withstand the force of fundamental change, though some prevail; unfortunately, however, often enough they don’t survive long enough afterwards to meet the full potential of their new abilities.

And not necessarily because of the change itself—but rather because the people creating these abnormalities will often decide to erase their existences, once past their use and novelty. If this new creature cannot be leashed, there’s no point in keeping it, no point in allowing it to go free and revel in its newfound talents.

When Simon Riley doesn’t break the way Manuel Roba wants him to, he becomes a victim of this serum. He’s informed, in spite of his torture-induced delirium, that this injection will put him down one way or another—be it through the pain, the incompatibility with his body, or through his expired usefulness after Roba has beaten him into submission in whatever form Simon is blessed with.

The serum feels like hot, molten, infernal flame has been injected directly into Simon’s veins, searing his body from the inside out. The first wave of pain arrives in a flash, has him writhing on the ground as his muscles lock up and he’s gasping for breath to fill lungs already burned to ash. Throat closing up, bones grinding together, the ripping of flesh. He can’t scream. Can’t claw at himself until he’s bloody and raw and dead.

It just goes on.

Roba’s laughter rings through the cold, impersonal laboratory, four cement walls and a cracked floor, the reeking, cloying scent of mildew and rust and failed experiments—it’s all that Simon’s world has narrowed down to until he blacks out in his anguish.

When he wakes, everything is wrong.

Simon’s more than disoriented, though that’s hardly a surprise. But beyond that, beyond the usual aches and sores and bruises—the red of the bloodstained floor is dull, too dull, and his limbs don’t feel like his own. His brain is a fog, simultaneously exhausted and alert, and his tongue sits heavy in his mouth—Simon rolls over, sluggish, his tongue sliding languidly with gravity, picking over teeth sharper than he remembers them being.

The bars of his cell rumble open, the rattle reverberating through Simon’s body.

Wrong. All wrong, wrong, wrong.

It takes effort to lift his gaze, to meet Roba’s own where he stands in the doorway. Simon’s eyelids droop, weighed down by nothing he can discern, and all he can make out through the slits of leftover vision is that smarmy grin and those beady, oil-black eyes.

Roba grins wider when Simon stirs, shifting stiff muscles in a fool’s errand of attempting to sit up.

“I knew you would survive, English,” he says. Simon’s ear twitches. “Welcome to the first day of your new life.”

Roba’s footsteps are loud, grating in their approach. He crouches in front of Simon’s prone form, regarding him in a way Simon has been plenty subject to—always displeased in some capacity, sometimes for known reasons and sometimes not, but also plotting, envisioning the next methods he might use to drill obedience into the soldier, to rearrange his anatomy, to fuck irreparably with his head.

With a sigh Roba reaches into his breast pocket to fish something out, some antique compact with engravings on the lid that Simon is in no state to decipher. He opens it with a muted click, then holds it in front of Simon’s face with something akin to a sick glee woven into his expression.

What stares back at Simon is not human.

#trying something out lol #any thoughts appreciated #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #shifter au #alternate universe #writing

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nyankochan · 7 days

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TWST Headcanons: Housewardens at Disney World

Pairing: boyfriend!housewarden x gn!reader

Content warning: none

A/n: inspired by my recent trip to Disney. For sake of the story, it will be at Magic Kingdom at Disney World in Florida (though I have been to the one in California and Tokyo!)

Riddle Rosehearts

Has never been to Disney before. It’s his first time

Lowkey scared of roller coasters and you tease him about whether or not he’s actually tall enough to ride

Fantasyland is his favorite area. Really liked Its a Small World

Did like the Mad Tea Party at first, but the spinning made him motion sick and he was pretty much done after that

Wants to get autographs from the characters, but worries it seems too childish. You have to basically initiate every character interaction

Definitely gets a sunburn from waiting outside in the long lines

Gets pins as souvenirs for Ace, Deuce, Trey, and Cater

You two get matching keychains which he clips to his school bag as a reminder of your trip together

Leona Kingscholar

Farena was taking Cheka and forced Leona to go along to make it a family trip. He begrudgingly agreed to go along since he was allowed to bring you.

Begrudgingly also wears the “Kingscholar Family Disney Trip” shirt you and his sister-in-law get

You guys stay at one of the park resorts

Leona really has no interest in any of the little rides, though he puts up with it because it excites you.

His favorite area is Frontierland. Big Thunder Mountain is his favorite ride (though he will never tell you that)

Also really liked Jungle Cruise and Pirates of the Caribbean rides.

Hates waiting in lines and buys the fast past for everything

Doesn’t want any souvenirs (thinks they’re dumb) but caves and gets a couple pins and a matching shirt for you guys to wear at the next park you go to

He’s honestly ready to go after a few hours. The walking and heat get on his nerves, but he sticks it out for you (and Cheka)

Azul Ashengrotto

Also his first time to Disney

Complains about the price of the food (it’s freaking expensive so who can blame him)

Also not really a big rollercoaster fan, but doesn’t mind going on some of the rides like Peter Pan’s Flight and Under the Sea-Journey of the Little Mermaid.

Gets motion sick

While on Tiana’s Bayou Adventure, the ride captured an ugly photo of him screaming during the big drop and you refuse to delete it, despite his protests.

Turns collecting and trading pins with the cast members into a literal auction. Manages to get a bunch of rare and exclusive pins

Blushes furiously when taking pictures with any of the Disney princesses

Nearly passes out from exhaustion by the time you guys make it to your hotel. He’s never walked so much in his entire life

Kalim Al-Asim

World’s biggest Disney Kid

You guys probably stay at one of the top resorts right by the park, so you get there right as it opens.

Offered to buy out the entire park but you vehemently opposed.

Loves Adventureland. The flying carpet ride is his favorite

You practically have to keep a tight leash on him or else he’ll run off without you

Very much spends money carelessly in the gift shop. He wants to get a souvenir for EVERYONE he knows and whatever you want he will get without hesitation

Buys several pairs of ears and depending on where you’re at in the park, he rotates them out to be able to wear each one.

Enjoys taking pictures with all the characters. His autograph book is basically filled by the end of the day

Gets you two basically VIP seats to the firework show at the end of the night. You have the perfect view

Vil Scheonheit

Wears matching couple Disney shirts

Is overly prepared: sunblock, check. Water bottles, check. Snacks, check. Umbrella, check. Rain poncho, check. Anything else you could possible need, he has it in his bag

Takes the world’s best photos of Cinderella’s castle. How he managed to do that with so many people is a mystery. (He doesn’t post anything until after you leave to avoid fans)

The rides sometimes take photos of the guests during them. Every photo Vil looks flawless while they manage to catch you screaming or not paying attention. It’s infuriating

Honestly, Vil cares more about taking pictures with the characters than getting on any actual rides, but you do a nice mix of both.

People lowkey mistake him as a prince or someone as part of the cast that they can get an autograph from

Refuses to get on any water rides or rides on water as he’s worried it would ruin his hair and makeup

During the fireworks show, pulls you in close to kiss you in front of the castle. Props to one of the photographers who happens to catch that magical moment on camera

Idia Shroud

Did not want to go at first. Only goes because Ortho really wants to. The three of you wear matching shirts

Hates the crowds. Like, a lot

Obsessed with Tomorrowland. You have to literally drag him to other parts of the park. Otherwise he’d stay there all day

Space Mountain is his favorite ride.

During Monster’s Inc Laugh Floor, he gets picked out in the audience during the skit, the spotlight shining on him. Nearly dies then and there

Buys a bunch of the munchkins surprise boxes and is trying to collect the entire set

Also the type to buy fast passes. Or he hacks into the system to code your cards to have infinite passes. Waiting in line? Never.

Secretly knows all the lyrics to most Disney movies. You catch him singing along during the parade

Though his social battery is damn near dead by the end of the night, he toughed it out because of how happy it made you and Ortho

Malleus Draconia

It’s his first time at Disney too. You get him a first time visitor button from the guest services desk, which he is very giddy about

Lilia and the others tag along, but Lilia makes sure that Sebek isn’t breathing down Malleus’s neck so that he and you can actually enjoy the park

The Haunted Mansion was his favorite ride. He loves the dark ambiance of it. He makes you all ride it at least 3 times.

Mickey ears don’t fit quite right around his horns, but you make it work

Likely believes that the princesses are actual princesses of different neighboring kingdoms and you don’t have the heart to correct him

Also doesn’t really understand that the characters, like Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck are people in costumes

When you can’t see the parade well, he lifts you up with ease.

Is amazed by the fact that there’s ice cream shaped like Mickey Mouse

Gets you a reservation at Cinderella’s Royal Table. The dinner is like a fairy tale, with character appearances and fine dining. You guys have the perfect view from your table to watch the fireworks

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slut4thebroken · 10 months

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Tommy’s Pet

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Thomas Shelby x reader

Summary | Tommy teaches his pet a new trick.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, pet play?, humiliation, praise, deep throating, dehumanization, throatpie lol, oral fixation?, dub con but not really, slapping, a lil degradation

Words | 3.4 k

Notes | You have @pinguwrites c.ai bot to thank for this skdhdk. Also I’m considering doing more one shots with these two so send me some ideas :)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

It’s no secret that you’re Tommy’s pet. If the rumors weren’t enough, you always at his side, collared and mostly kneeling, would’ve made it obvious. He liked taking you out, taking you on walks. If you’re good he’ll let you off the leash, but if not then you stay firmly by his side, being dragged by your neck if you couldn’t keep up.

He knew that everywhere he took you, men wanted to stare. They wanted to eye fuck you and use their imaginations to get rid of what little clothing he allowed you to wear. But most of them didn’t. Because everyone knows that you're his property— and he’s very protective of his property.

The one man who dared to lay a hand on you while you were off your leash, being allowed to roam the Garrison while Tommy was talking, met a fate worse than the traitors did. That was the one and only time someone tried to touch his property.

You were sitting at his feet, almost under the table, with your head on his thighs as he ran his fingers through your hair and scratched your head. You weren’t listening to what he was saying, you just knew that it was important and you had to stay quiet at all costs. So you hugged his leg and nuzzled your face into his thigh with a pleased sigh.

You love when he’s gentle with you. When he treats you like his puppy rather than his bitch. It fills your stomach with butterflies everytime.

His hand moved down to gently caress your cheek, then he was placing his thumb over your lips, offering you something to take your mind off of how long you had to wait here. You took it in your mouth eagerly and sucked, letting your eyes flutter closed as you smiled around the digit. You probably could’ve fallen asleep if he left you here long enough. But just as you started dozing off, he was taking his hand back, making you frown. You realized that there weren’t any voices anymore and you couldn’t see any shoes under the table.

“Aren’t you such a good pet… staying nice and quiet for me.” He cooed and you were too dumb and spaced out to realize he was mocking you. Nodding eagerly, you gave him a smile in response to the praise as you sat up straighter. “Go lay down in my office. I’ll be there shortly.” He ordered softly.

“Yes, sir.” You crawled there, keeping your head down to avoid any passing eyes. If you got embarrassed, you’d slip up, then you’d be punished. You made it in his office and laid down on your cushion that was on the floor next to his desk. You weren’t sure how much time passed before he finally joined you, but you immediately sat up, eagerly waiting for his next command. He closed and locked the door, then walked over to pour himself a drink before sitting behind his desk with a heavy sigh.

“Are you okay, sir?” He seemed stressed… The thought made you frown.

“Just been a long day s’all.” He took a sip of his drink, then finally turned toward you. “You did a good job during my meeting.” He added, changing the subject.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I want to teach you something for next time.” He took another drink and you waited in anticipation. “At my feet.” He ordered, moving the chair back to give you enough room to kneel in front of him. “So obedient.” He murmured, almost to himself. “So small… So delicate.” His eyes darkened and you tried not to squirm under his gaze. “Sometimes I worry I’ll break you.” He uttered softly.

“I can take it, sir.” You assured him, making him scoff a laugh.

“s’that so?” He asked with amusement. You nodded in response. “Shall we test that?” He stood up and your eyes followed him curiously as he leaned on the edge of the desk, now behind you. “Face me.” You scrambled to turn around and sat on your knees eagerly.

“I’m gonna teach you a new trick, love.” He set his glass on the desk and started unbuckling his belt. Your mouth was already salivating at just the sound of it clinking. He kept it in the belt loops, then started unbuttoning his pants, opening them just enough to slip his cock out. He only stroked it twice before pausing. “This might be easier while I’m still half soft.” He realized.

“In your mouth.” You shuffled forward and wrapped your lips around him, starting to bob up and down until he stopped you. “No. All the way down and stay there.” You obeyed, wondering where this was going. He placed a hand on the back of your head and pushed you into him even more, squishing your nose against his pelvis. Once he was satisfied, he grabbed his belt and brought it behind your head, then started buckling it again. You stared up at him in confusion— how were you supposed to suck him off like this? He only looked at you after he finished securing it, then picked up his drink.

“We’re training your throat today, pup. You’re going to stay there until I finish my drink.” He explained and your eyes widened. You’ve never stayed down that long before.

Already you could feel his cock getting harder- bigger. You breathed steadily through your nose, trying to stay relaxed. He took a sip of his drink and stared down at you lazily. He still had almost half of the glass left and you had no idea how you were supposed to stay here until he finished.

“Do you know why I’m training you to do this?” You could only let out a muffled sound in response. “I want to get you used to keeping my cock in your throat without choking and makin’ too much noise.” He gruffed, taking another small sip. “Once you can do that, that’s how you’ll stay during my meetings.” Those meetings are endless! How are you supposed to stay down the whole time? You wanted to ask that, but you could barely even whine.

You felt the constant pressure on the back of your mouth now and you knew that he was close to being fully hard— close to going down your throat. You choked and your body convulsed, but you managed to calm down again, breathing heavily through your nose with tears in your eyes. He took another small sip, eyeing you with a lazy smirk as you started struggling. When he started petting your head, you looked up at him with a whimper.

“Thought you said you could take it?” He murmured, challenging you to keep trying. So you took a deep breath and tried your best to relax. As soon as you did though, his cock was pushing past your throat barrier, making you gag as you whimpered and brought your hands up to his thighs, earning you a hard slap to the cheek. “Down.” He scolded, making you lower them with a blush. He drank a little more and it finally was a little less than half full. When you choked again and started squirming, trying to get away, he slapped you again.

“Stay.” He ordered, making you whine. You stopped squirming and did your best to control your gag reflex. “So good at following commands, aren’t you, bitch?” You sobbed around him at the name. Anytime he orders you around like a dog, calls you bitch, pup, or puppy, you just get so fucking needy and so fucking wet.

He took another slow sip and let out a pleased sigh at your obedience. When his eyes suddenly turned darker and almost sinister, you quickly grew nervous. He plugged your nose and your eyes widened as your struggling picked up again. He let you panic and writhe like that until your lungs were starting to burn and your head was starting to feel heavy, but he let go. You took in a sharp breath through your nose, then let out a strangled sob around him.

“I know…” He cooed with mock sympathy. “Doing such a good job, keeping me so deep.” He started petting your head again and you beamed at the praise. “I think you can go deeper though.” Before you even had a chance to think about what that might’ve meant, he was hitting the back of your head a few times, making you choke again. “Good pup.” He groaned, ruffling your hair. “Maybe you were right. Maybe you can handle it.” You were worried that meant he was going to do something to make this harder, but he just raised the glass to his lips again, taking a larger gulp this time. Barely any left— maybe two more sips. You can last that long.

“You do make such a good sleeve for my cock.” His praise always makes you blush. “Maybe that’s what you should go by; Tommy’s personal pet and cocksleeve.” He took another small sip and you would’ve cried in relief if you were able to. “I think like that actually.” He raised the glass again and you whimpered as you stared up at him with pleading eyes. Just before it reached his lips, he paused, not drinking yet. “What about you, pet? Do you like that?” You did your best to nod, say yes, anything to satisfy him.

With a pleased smirk, he finally threw his head back and downed the rest of the drink before placing the glass on the desk and looking down at you, finding you waiting eagerly for him to unbuckle the belt.

“I think I’ll have a smoke too.” He reached in his pocket and you let out a garbled moan, realizing that he was far from done with you. Once it was lit, he lifted it to his mouth and took a long drag, then blew the smoke down onto you. “After this, then you can be done.” He said teasingly. You tried to whine around him, but it just made you gag again, so you focused on staying completely still and quiet, and breathing slowly through your nose, even though it felt like your airway was partially blocked.

“This was supposed to be a challenge, pup. But look at you… taking it so easily.” He took another drag of the cigarette and you had to force down the cough that the smoke was bringing up. “Who’s pet are you?” He stared down at you with a glint in his eyes, waiting for you to answer. You tried to speak, but you could barely get out one syllable before gagging again. “What was that? Use my full name, love.”

You whimpered and tried to say “Thomas Shelby’s” but you started choking again. Everytime you sputtered, more saliva that had built up in your mouth was being forced out of you, some of it trailing down his balls or your neck, and some of it getting on his pants— you knew you were going to be punished for that later.

“Come on pet, it’s not that hard. Say my fuckin’ name.” You looked up at him with a strangled whimper, silently begging him to not make you try again. When you didn’t speak, he raised his brows and took another drag of the cigarette, giving you one last chance. “If you can’t follow orders, I’ll put this out on your pretty face, and then light a new one.” He said, gesturing with the cigarette.

So with a shaky exhale through your nose, you tried to suppress your gag reflex enough for you to talk again. You barely managed to mumble out an incoherent ‘Thomas’ before you gagged again, the hardest you had so far. You instinctively brought your hands up to his thighs as your body convulsed. It wouldn’t stop. You kept gagging, kept choking— you were practically dry heaving at this point— but he was barely half finished with the cigarette.

“Settle down, love.” You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut with furrowed brows, making him chuckle. “I know…” He cooed. “I know, puppy.. But you’re doing such a good job, you can’t stop now. You’re almost done.” As if to emphasize his point, he brought the cigarette up to his lips again.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks now and you squeezed his thighs tightly to keep yourself from hitting him away or trying to push him back. You were starting to panic even more now though. With the intrusion in your throat and the shallow breaths as you cried, it felt like you couldn’t breath, which only made you need to hyperventilate, making the feeling worse.

“Look at me.” He said softly. You whimpered and forced yourself to look up at him with teary eyes, taking in his blurry figure. He was petting your head again, trying to soothe you. “Just try to breathe. You’re doing so good, I know you can take it for just a little bit longer, eh?” You whimpered and averted your gaze, not really agreeing with him, but unable to say that. “Cause you’re my good girl. You’re my pet. And Tommy Shelby’s pet is as strong as he is… that’s why he chose her.” Your whole face flushed down to your chest at his words— you’re used to some praise, but never to this extent.

When you let out a shaky breath and brought your hands back down to your sides, he gave you a proud smile. You felt like you were on the verge of gagging again any second now, so you tried not to move, not to breathe, anything to keep it from happening.

“Should I give my good girl a treat?” He had the smirk on his face that usually meant trouble and you got a little nervous. “Yeah… I think she deserves something for doin’ such a good job.” You watched as he took a long drag of the cigarette, then your hips flinched when you felt pressure on your core. His leg was extended between yours, the top of his ankle resting right on your clit.

“Go ahead, pup. Hump my leg.” You tried not to whine at the degrading words, not wanting to gag again. Even though doing this would make you release sounds that would probably make you choke, you knew that he wasn’t asking, he was ordering. So you started slowly rocking your hips, letting out a sigh through your nose as your eyes fluttered shut. Truthfully, everything about this situation had your clit throbbing and you were just glad you could finally get some relief. When you started grinding faster, you choked a little, but quickly swallowed it down. It just felt so good. And the last time you were allowed an orgasm was a few days ago because of how busy he’s been, so you were chasing it eagerly.

“Just a little humping and my good pup turns into a bitch in heat.” He sighed, almost disappointed. “At least I trained you early. I’m sure if you didn’t have any rules for a day, you’d try to hump everything in sight.” You whined, but it cut off into a gag and you had to bring your focus back to actively controlling it.

More smoke was blown in your face and you forced yourself not to whine again. When you looked up, you almost sighed in relief when you saw how close he was to the filter. You met his gaze, he was a little blurry through your tears, but you could see the pleased look on his face. It was faint, but it was definitely there. Wrapping your arms around his leg, you started grinding a little faster chasing your own pleasure.

“Can you do one last thing for me, pet?” You did your best to nod, but your head barely moved. It probably didn’t matter though, he’d expect you to say yes no matter what. “I know I said after a smoke, but can you wait until I finish?” He knew exactly what he was doing using that tone. There wasn’t even a possibility of you saying anything other than yes when he spoke to you like that. To respond, you just squeezed his leg and he gave you a proud grin.

He was almost at the filter now and with one, long drag, he finally finished it, stubbing it out on the ashtray and putting both of his hands on the edge of the desk next to his hips.

“I‘m close, but I need a little more to get there, love.” That was the only warning you got before he started grinding against your face, making you choke when he cock pushed impossibly deeper. “If you want to speed this up, you know what to do.” He said through a breath. You brought your hand up to cup his balls, playing with them gently to add more stimulation.

You were basically dry heaving again. Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you sputtered, your body convulsing as you tried to free yourself. You could feel bile rising in your throat now and you prayed he would be done very soon so you didn’t almost throw up on him.

“You want me to finish quickly, eh?” You tried to nod again. “And you’re willing to let me do whatever I need to make that happen?” That made you falter… What would he need to do? He didn’t even let you try to answer this time. “Good girl.”

He plugged your nose and your eyes widened as you looked up at him with fear, making him groan. His other hand settled on the back of your head and he started pushing you down, going faster and faster. He wasn’t really pushing you down, but the movement was enough to make you choke anyway. Your lungs burned and the gagging intensified. When you brought your hand up to his thighs to push yourself away, he let go of your nose and slapped your cheek, hard.

“You know where your hands need to be.” He warned, giving you a chance to put them back… and you did. He plugged your nose again and you had to dig your nails into his leg to keep from moving your hand again. Your other hand on his balls wasn’t helping much because of how hard you were focusing on not throwing up. Garbled whimpers escaped you as you tried pulling your head back, but even without his hand pushing you down, the belt would’ve stopped you.

“You can breathe when I fuckin’ come.” He gruffed. God- you hoped that’d be soon. Spit was rolling down your neck to your chest, probably making a mess over the pretty clothes he bought for you. You started to feel lightheaded and your eyes were fluttering, trying to stay open. He moved both hands to the back of your head, letting you breathe again finally, but your relief was cut short.

He let out a choked groan and both of his hands flattened on your head as he bucked his hips. With how deep he was, you couldn’t even really swallow his come, it was just being forced down. You tried to focus on his quiet moans and the way his cock was twitching inside your throat, but nothing could take your mind off of the constant gagging.

His sounds died down and his hands loosened, letting you up just a tiny bit. You squeezed his thigh to get his attention, as if your loud choking wasn’t enough, and his eyes opened as he tilted his head down at you, his chest heaving.

“Yes?” He asked innocently, making you let out a garbled sob around him. “If there’s something you want, you know you need to use your words.” He watched you struggle for another moment until his breathing settled into a normal speed, then reached for the belt. As soon as it was released, you shot back and started coughing, bracing yourself with your hands on the floor, watching a glob of your saliva slowly fall from your lips to the ground. When you were finally panting less and didn’t feel bile in your throat, you looked up at him, your chest still heaving slightly.

“You did good, pet. I’m proud of you.” He ran his fingers through your hair and you sighed as you leaned into his touch. “I have no doubt that with a little more training, you’ll be able to take it without making a sound.”

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @aviamulier @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @xxorazz @halleysc6met @crunchsworld @cillianscrybaby @babaohhhriley @deceitfuldevout @gentyleman @lorelais-world @shroombloom-rry @pinguwrites @thatonesinglefriend @literishdegree99

#thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy

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guardian-of-soho · 1 year

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For how tender and domestic (and “quiet and romantic”) the new season is, there’s such an endless sense of hovering danger around the little haven of the bookshop in the present day (not to mention the flashbacks). It’s implied they’ve been left alone a few years; but it’s clear the peace is ending.

From the moment “Jim” arrives we’re never left a minute without the shadow of Heaven or Hell darkening the doorstep of the bookshop and their safety, until the night the last-ditch dance to hold Heaven off turns into Hell coming over the threshold. They’re not left to peace. They’re not allowed to find their human happiness — not via the dance nor even by their one big kiss — not so long as Heaven and Hell want them gone. Not so long as their love stands as the threat to Eternity that it is.

That’s the only way I can make any sense of Aziraphale’s return to Heaven. They never left him alone, and for all he seemed sure of himself in helping Jim hide from them, and wooing Crowley amidst their invasions, and even refusing the Metatron at first — he must have felt the end approaching. He must have known that whatever was done to Jim could be done to him too.

He could lose himself. He could lose his capacity to protect Crowley, or Soho and the humans he loved. He could lose all memory of what had been so precious to him, worth defying Heaven for, and why he was on Earth, and who he could trust, and why.

Others have pointed out how determinedly he ignores Crowley’s fear amid the dancing. I think — I hope — that it’s not that he doesn’t want to hear him. It’s that he is pushing back his own fear to reach for happiness; it’s that he needs so badly to let him know he loves him, before it’s too late. He needs to have a moment’s romance. He knows “too late” is coming.

And then it’s there.

And still when Heaven offers him a way to dodge the doom they bring, he refuses point blank until they promise he can buy Crowley’s safety by his surrender. (And it is a surrender, for all he says he believes he’ll be in charge. Within moments of losing Crowley he’s giving the Metatron the same fake smiles and feigned agreement he’s always offered Heaven. He’s leashed again.) He wants their safety, he wants it unassailable, and I hope that’s the first reason he went back. (I don’t imagine the promise of their approval meant nothing to him. I think he wants their power and their praise. But I don’t believe it was what he wanted first.)

He’s just watched their haven (our shop!) invaded by Hell, and then by Heaven, and then watched two traitors in love, the heads of their sides, driven to the far reaches of the universe under threat of being followed — that’s not the end he wants for him and Crowley. He doesn’t imagine Heaven can be as sweet for them as Earth; but he believes their days on Earth are numbered. I think having watched their refuge breached so easily has had the same effect on him that watching it burn had on Crowley — nothing feels safe anymore; nothing feels permanent.

But Crowley’s reaction was “I want to spend whatever time we have left together as far away as we can get,” Aziraphale’s is “I want to invade the heart of the threat and turn it into home.” They’re so terribly brave; and they’re so in need of some humans showing them how to face down a threat together instead of running or joining it. I want to watch a replay of the airfield last stand, and the bookshop battle, but with power enough on their side to win Earth’s permanent peace.

I want Crowley and Aziraphale both to decide that even without Adam’s power or any particular prophecy or a tangible plan, they’ll take their chances on the humans’ side for good and all, and count it worth the dangers. And I want to see them win. Earth’s side has been theirs; they deserve to be sheltered and saved by it, too.

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #a/c #the new season is honestly so scary for how sweet it is #Jim’s situation is presented as funny but it’s also a horror story #he was so close to losing everything and never even knowing it had happened #there’s no way Aziraphale didn’t think about that happening to him

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equalheart · 1 year

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enhypen when you get stood up / rejected / dumped

comedic fluff! enhypen!member x reader w: sad-ish? content. y/n is kinda “cheating” since they kiss someone RIGHT after breaking up… ©equalheart REPOST FROM HYKAI ⋆ ࣪. ୧ ♡ ୨ ִ ۫ ⁎ . i really wanted to write something like this, to avoid repetitiveness i added 3 different scenerios. sorry if this is confusing!

양정원 (YANG JUNGWON) — Stood Up

You were walking along in a park by the place your date was supposed to be. You felt like crying. After talking to this guy for a few weeks, you’d expect him to show up, right? What a waste of time. You’re walking peacefully when a dog runs straight at you and starts sniffing your feet. An owner quickly runs towards you. “Maeumi!” he quickly scoops the dog up into his arms. “I’m so sorry! I let her off her leash for one second and she—” he looks up, “Y/n?”

You realise who you’re talking to. It’s Yang Jungwon from your extended-maths class. “Oh, hi!” you try to cheer up. “Is this your dog?” he smiled while looking at Maeumi, who quickly gave a lick to his face. “Her name is Maeumi, do you wanna pet her?” you don’t decline, letting the fluffy dog run straight to your arms, licking your face as well. “I heard you were busy today.” randomly, it comes out of him, and you deeply sigh. “Yeah, I was supposed to go on a date. But the guy didn’t even show up.” Jungwon also lets out a deep sigh. He doesn’t know if he should feel angry for you, sad for you, or if he’s allowed to feel anything for you. But he feels relieved. “I’m happy he didn’t show up. Now you’re here with me.” He grins at you, Maeumi in his lap.

"Why is that? Do you like me or something?" You laugh until noticing he's gone silent. when you look back up at him, he bites down on his lower lip while looking down; like a sad puppy. "Wait, you like me?" He blushes and nods his head 'yes.' "Well, there's no doubt you're better than the guy who ditched me today. should we go on a date right now?" His eyes shoot up. "You like me too?" you giggle at his reaction. "Let's just say, I'm interested." "Then.. Let's consider this a date." He smiles at you and lets go of Maeumi, while she runs around you in circles. "First I'll have to drop her off at home." He giggles.

이희승 (LEE HEESEUNG) — Rejected

“Hah, why would I date you?” you’re on campus of your university, and your year long crush has just... rejected you? He’s been flirting with you, so it’s not surprising that this will be an extra shock to you. “I—” you stare at him, at a loss for words. “Y/n, nobody would like someone like you” you feel glossy eyes and also enraged. How could he say this after mentioning that his parents would love you? Even when you weren’t dating. A waste of time. Suddenly, you feel an arm around your shoulder. “I like them.” you turn around to see Lee Heeseung. You’ve talked to him about some lectures in groups, but nothing more than that—so what’s he saying? “I like Y/n. If you’re just gonna toy with them, leave them alone.” he raises an eyebrow and you watch your crush, or, well, ex-crush scoff and walk away, cussing at the ground.

Heeseung’s arm falls off your shoulder immediately. “I’m sorry for touching you, are you alright?” you tear up and he pats you back. “Shhh, he’s just a jerk, okay? Forget him.” your vision is foggy as you look at him. “Why’d you help me?” he looks at you blankly for a second, like a deer struck by headlights. “Didn’t you hear me? I said "I like you.”

박종성 (PARK JONGSEONG) — Dumped

You call Jay on the phone, crying rather loudly. "Y/n? What's wrong?" He sounds alert. "I got dumped." You say between sniffles. Those words cause Jay to hang up on you. What the hell? What a jerk, you thought. - An hour passes and you've been watching a kdrama while crying your eyes out. There's a sudden knock at your door, and you open it to see Jay. You shut the door immediately. "Leave." You state as he jiggles the doorknob. "Y/n, wait. I'm sorry it took me so long there was traffic, and you know the ice cream place is far from my house!" Confusion takes over you as you slowly unlock and open the door. He continues: "Here, I got you all your favourite things. Do you want me to stay, or should I go..?" You take two white plastic bags from his hands. "You jerk. You suck." Now he's confused. "Should I??" he pointed to the street, more directly to his car. "How dare you hang up on me! Do you know how upset I was?" You pull him into the house, not noticing how he tripped over your shoe and stumbled forward, pushing himself to the nearest wall, with you in front of him. "O-Oh, i'm sorry—I was just trying to get here as fast as possible.” You can feel his hot breath fanning against your neck as he talks. "It's okay! It’s fine, don't worry." you blush and walk away, sitting back on the couch, now with your snacks. Jay stayed there, pinning air against the wall as he covered his mouth with his other hand. Shit. He was blushing like crazy.

심재윤 (SIM JAEYUN) — Dumped

You're at Jake's house. in his room, sobbing on his gaming chair. "And then he just said it's over." You completed your story, not without at least one billion sniffles along the way. You knew you could rely on Jake, your best friend since almost forever, to comfort you. "Yeah? I'm sorry, Y/n. You deserved better." Your eyes sparkle in admiration and your eyes flashback distant memories from when you had a crush on Jake. Your heart aches. He was so perfect, but you were both young, and you didn't wanna risk losing him. "Jake.. Could I hug you?" He blanks out for a second before responding. "Of course! Sure! Just don't get any snot on me." Your face turns red in embarrassment and he notices. "Kidding, obviously!" He hugs you and you hold him tight.

After a few seconds, Jake tries to pull away, but you pull him tighter—maybe just a little too tight. From pulling Jake, his body weight was on you now and his gaming chair could not handle that; it toppled over. You were laying down on the chair, which was now flipped on its back (so you were still technically on it) when you realised Jake was on top of you. Woah. You both made eye contact for a split second before he got off. "Oh my gosh, Y/n, i'm sorry!" His cheeks are pink from prior. You just giggle. "No, seriously it's fine. It was my fault anyway." He looks at you, slowly speaking up. "In that case.. Wanna do it again?"

박성훈 (PARK SUNGHOON) — Rejected

It was embarrassing, getting rejected. And you needed someone to talk to. You went to your first and only resort, your best friend, Park Sunghoon. Something about the sparkle in your eyes while talking about him made Sunghoon uncomfortable. Did you like him that much? Come on. You barely knew him. Sunghoon decides not to speak on his thoughts and listen to what you have to say instead. He was always a good listener anyway. But when you get to a point talking about stuff you “did wrong”, he can’t hold back any longer. “Y/n.” his sharp voice catches you off guard, and your eyes avert to him. “You did nothing wrong, okay? Just because you thought he liked you doesn’t mean you were wrong. He totally led you on and played with your feelings.” You feel tears wither up into your eyes and you clasp onto Sunghoon’s waist. It takes him by surprise, but he wraps his arms around yours. “Thank you, Hoon.”

김선우 (KIM SEONWOO) — Stood up

Sunoo could not believe what he was hearing. How could someone as pretty, kind, and sweet as you get stood up? I mean, the guy promised he'd show up. What a jerk. Sunoo stayed by your side as you ranted about how long you took getting ready, and how nervous you were. At first, you were a little upset, but then you were just irritated. You got all dressed up and ready for absolutely nothing. What a waste of time. Sunoo, unlike you, was furious. He asked (begged) for the guy's number so he could meet him, but you declined. Being petty wouldn't get you back time. "I give up on dating people." you sigh, and Sunoo panics. "You can't give up! There's still someone out there waiting for you!'' His sudden defensiveness leaves you confused. "And who would that be." you roll your eyes, sipping the water he brought for you earlier. "…. Me."

西村力 (NISHIMURA RIKI) — Rejected

Before you even came up to Ni-ki, he could sense something was wrong—His spidey senses were tingling. He saw the small tear droplets formed in your eyes and sighs, pushing a stand of hair out of your face. His eyebrows were furrowed while he studied your sad features. "I thought you said you were absolutely confident he liked you back?" You sniffle a bit and he can't help but chuckle. "Idiot." He whispers under his breath. Ni-ki's face holds a soft smile, his eyes holding oceans of stars. "Hey!" You punch him and he lets out a fake cry. "Maybe he changed his mind." You huff at him.

Not a great situation for jokes, but Ni-ki always managed to make you laugh. "You should've stayed with me.." He pats your head, still making eye contact even if he's towering over you. "You know I'd treat you better." Your heart flutters. How could it not? But it was for your friend. Was this wrong? You give him a confused expression, still at a loss of words from his actions. "Y/n, you don't know? You really don't know?" His blank expression still confused you, and a slow, soft smile appeared in his mouth. He bends down to your level, and your eyes widen. He's.. super attractive. How couldn't you notice him before? "I like you."

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #ni ki x reader #riki x reader #enhypen fluff

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fateisfiction · 4 months

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NSFW Hybrid!Simon x Reader

Apparently I can't stop writing about this man. Here, have another 950 words. Knowing how things are going, there will be more to cum. (Whether that's more of Hybrid!Simon or just more Hybrid!141, I'm not sure yet.)

Idk, do I have to start a tag list for this or something?

---

Reader with a hybrid pet (Simon) who easily overpowers her.

Maybe you adopted him. Ghost, Simon, he seems to respond equally to both of the names, but you like Simon. It’s more human. Just like him.

It takes a while for him to settle in, but he does eventually. He starts clinging to you like Velcro, marking his territory in any way he can. It's never enough. No matter what he does, you never smell enough like him.

Eventually, you can’t keep brushing it off as an adjustment period. This has been going on for too long, and you’re getting tired of having to keep washing your clothes. He’s an adult, he should know better. You scold him for his bad behavior, never once threatening to take him back, because you do love him, and aside from the marking, he’s such a good Hybrid.

He stops after that. Whenever he catches himself getting the urge to claim his territory now, he stops himself. Ears pinned back, whining at the thought of disappointing you, his rescuer.

That behavior, those urges have to go somewhere. Maybe he starts the nervous habit of crawling into your lap while you’re watching TV, his huge, hulking form pinning you to the couch. Maybe you squirm under him, trying to push him off. That bit of movement gives him an idea. If he can't claim you one way, he'll claim you another.

You don't even realize he's doing it. He flops on top of you so regularly now, you just give in. Sucked into whatever you're watching, you barely notice the gentle gyration of his hips as he ruts against your thigh. You think he's having a nightmare, so you give him some scratches behind the ear, praising him, telling him he's a good boy, you're here for him.

It's not until you're about to head to bed that you noticed the white stain on your pants, right where he was laying. Wait, was he–

You don't even have time to complete the thought. Simon's pushing you down onto the bed, breath heavy in your ear. Whispers and growls telling you that you're so good to him. That he needs you. Wants to fill you up with a litter of his pups so you'll never leave him.

You cry out, begging for him to stop this, that it's not right, but his claws have already shredded your pajamas, exposing you to him. His huge hand, splayed across the small of your back, holding you down as he shoves his face into your cunt. Lapping up your arousal with his long tongue, allowing it to dip into your folds, tasting the way you feel for him; confirming that yes, you are prepared to carry his young.

He shushes you, telling you that you're such a good girl for him. His precious girl, so wet and willing just for him. The head of his cock slips between your folds, coating himself in your slick as he ruts into your thighs.

You feel the knot at the base of his cock growing against your skin. Hear the way he growls when you can't hold back anymore, a small sound of pleasure leaving your throat as his tip catches your clit. He learns fast, figuring out exactly where he needs to touch you to get that reaction again.

He hasn't even gotten inside of you and you're already cumming from his touch. Of course he takes that for the compliment it is. He knows he's the only one who could know you like this, who could have you so compliant in his hands.

Maybe outside the door of your apartment you were in charge. Keeping him on a tight leash so he wouldn’t go after any man or hybrid that so much as looked at you. But it was all for show. Just look at how he has you begging for his cock. Whining for him to knot you. So desperate to please your hybrid master.

He lifts your hips, repositioning you so that your head is on a pillow, turned to look up at him. Nosing your hair, he growls, chest rumbling against your spine as he sinks into you. You whine, not prepared to take his half-swollen knot. Breathy whimpers catching in your throat as he struggles to push past the resistance of your tight heat and fully seat himself inside of you.

It takes a few tries, reaching down to massage your clit as he helps you relax to take him. When he finally feels the give of your tight cunt, he can't help but force the last few inches of his cock all in one go. Shushing your screams, he licks away your tears, praising you for taking him so well. "Doing so good for me, darling."

It gives you whiplash. The jackhammering of his hips as he fucks you senseless mixed with sweet words as he claims you for himself. He knows you'll never be able to resist him after this. Not when he's got you choking down your sobs, begging him for more.

You wouldn't even know he was cumming at this point, so lost in your own pleasure, if not for the swelling of his knot locking him in place. The burning stretch secures you in place beneath him as he twitches inside of you, filling you with his potent seed. His teeth sink into your shoulder, marking you for himself with a physical reminder of his claim over you.

His knot finally softens allowing you to slip away from him, but his arms tighten around you holding you in place.

"Where do you think you're going, Love? I'm not done with you."

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More Hybrid: Hybrid!Johnny

More CoD: Price's Pet

#ghost x reader #simon x reader #simon x you #ghost x you #hybrid au #hybrid ghost cod #hybrid simon cod #cod x reader #cod x you #fem reader #quill writes

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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year

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don't mind me... just thinking about the dateables slowly dropping the rest of their roster for you as they fall head over heels...

diavolo // barbatos (you are here) // simeon // solomon -- x gn!reader, NSFW below the cut

barbatos, who will always be there for lord diavolo. when the idea of an exchange program first popped in the prince's head, barbatos was the backboard in which diavolo bounced his ideas off of. humans and angels in the devildom? how would we keep them safe? what would their curriculum look like? the program slowly molds into shape with each of these conversations. he watches as the idea grows to a proposal, then a plan, and finally, a real project to work towards. the prince is always chipper when discussing the program. a few nobles doubt that the plan will come to fruition, but barbatos has long since learned that doubting the prince will only motivate him more. when the day of the exchange program begins, barbatos watches with a small, almost entirely smile as the future king of the devildom welcomes the new students to his academy.

barbatos, who lives to please. it's his purpose, his sole duty in the devildom day in and day out. when lord diavolo orders him to make sure you feel welcome, he does the job with flourish. your favorite desserts are always at tea when you visit. he's sure to answer any questions or concerns you have promptly as you tour the castle. he even loosens the leash on the young master just a little as the two of you grow closer, giving him some grace to spend time with you over staying cooped up in his office-- so long as you continue to enjoy yourself. maybe somewhere along the way affection blurs into duty, obligation fading into genuine interest. he's there to lend a listening ear, to be a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold should you so desire. barbatos never oversteps his bounds, for that would be wholly unprofessional. but he never speaks up when you linger in the kitchen, shuffling in your spot as you babble on about whatever comes to mind. he never rushes you out after a long day at the castle visiting the young master, even when the skies are dark and lucifer is impatient to know your estimated arrival time back at the house of lamentation. it's the little things that let you know he cares... maybe even a little more than he believes he should.

barbatos, who doesn't mind your company-- even if you're a little distracting. your laughter echoes through the garden, giddy chirps quickly becoming loud, joyous barks of noise as little d's bound around your feet. their voices overlap, all too excited to be avoiding their gardening duty, as they bombard you with jokes and stories. barbatos should send them on their way. but you look so happy. you once said that they reminded you of dogs from the human realm with the way they darted around and got into trouble. the metaphor wasn't perfect, considering they were still conniving little demons, but they'd suffice. anything to ease your homesickness, after all. he doesn't even realize the tree trimmers in his own hands have stalled until you cry out-- how long had he been watching you? in a moment of darting demons and misplaced footsteps, you tumble to the ground, tripped by one of the little d's. he knows it's an accident, but his tone is venomous as he tells the demons to get away from you. they scatter like roaches. he's quick to make his way to your side, and you laugh, brushing off his concerns as he helps you up. but look. your palm is red and irritated from the impact. it's not enough of a scrape to draw blood, but you still got hurt. barbatos bows deeply to apologize for allowing them to take things too far-- he should have been watching better. he'll find a fitting punishment for them, although he doesn't share that with you. your hands wave in panic as you assure him no, it's okay, don't apologize! he inspects the injury again, gloved fingers gliding against the wound, watching your face from the corner of his eye to see if he's causing you any discomfort. you appear to be fine. barbatos does the courteous thing-- surely, that's the only motivator for his actions, nothing else-- and presses a soft kiss to the wound as a final, silent apology. your eyes are wide when he meets them again, lips curling nervously into an uncertain smile. if he didn't know any better, he'd say you look like you're already plotting your next injury. maybe that's just his imagination.

barbatos, who has grown. who has lived a long, long life, and will continue to live far into the future, where the human mind can no longer perceive time. he was around long before you were a fruit on your family tree-- hell, he was probably born before it was even planted. he's seen civilizations rise and fall. greed has swallowed whole kingdoms under his silent watch, castles crumbling under the weight of their own hubris while he didn't say a word. humans are so flawed, so sinful. he's never cared much for their weight in his life. he used to think the realms were better off separate-- until he met the young master, of course-- but now he knows where he was wrong. your clumsy fingers fumble with the ingredients, their foreign colors and textures tripping you up as you follow the recipe he wrote out for you. he has to stop himself from micromanaging you. barbatos watches you from the corner of his eyes as he kneads out the pastry dough in his hands. the cultural exchange must be hard for you, even after all these months you've been immersed in demon culture. he doesn't think about it, didn't think about it, until one of the brothers brought it up in passing. how strange. you've adapted quite well to everything. his mind wanders as he watches you look between measuring cups. how long as it been? how long have these sorts of feelings been dormant in him, this level of passion for another living creature? you captivate him like no other. when he was a younger demon, he spent years wandering, indulging every hedonistic desire he had. there were countless lovers left in his dust, tangled bedsheets and broken hearts trailing back to the dawn of time. it'd been a long time since he bothered to look at anyone romantically, even longer since someone stirred these feelings up on their own. yet here you were. special, truly. a grin split your face, and barbatos watched as you did a little dance to celebrate your successful attempt at completing this portion the recipe. praise flowed like warm honey from his lips. his words made your grin wider, if at all possible. you crossed the counter to press a giddy little kiss against his cheek, and he stilled for a long moment. how did a little kiss affect him so? this, he might never realize. he broke the spell with a small chuckle and returned the favor-- properly, this time, pressing his lips against yours for a moment before refocusing your attention on the desserts you had yet to finish. he'd met a lot of humans in his lifetime, and yet there was something about you none of the rest of them had. but what? he'd gladly spend as long as he needed to in pursuit of that answer.

barbatos, who will never get tired of a quiet morning. they're rare in his profession-- usually he's up early, silently pattering about as he begins preparing to wake the rest of the castle. but today that is not the case. today he's curled around you like vines on ruins, body intertwined with yours until he hardly knows where he ends and you begin. the crypt he calls a room is dark at all hours of the day, only illuminated by candles and other such lights when someone walks in. but you've got a special lamp from the human world that brightens your room in tune with the time of day, like the sun in the human realm does naturally. the warm light caresses the curve of your cheeks, the curl of your lips, the fluttering of your eyelids as you begin to stir. there's a part of him that wants you to stay asleep. he wants to observe your drowsy form a little longer, to burn the shape of you into his brain so he'll never know another moment without your face. but your eyes open, and you smile-- maybe having you wake up isn't such a bad thing. you rasp a good morning. he returns the favor. and when you kiss him good morning, he again follows suit. it's lazily, all warm lips and breathy chuckles as your hands come to his cheeks. his arm was already wrapped around your side, and barbatos takes the opportunity to rub circles into your back. neither of you pull away, and lazy kisses grow more heated when left to progress. his lips trail across your skin, breath tickling your collarbone, your sternum, your stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your sleep shorts. he spares you a quick glance to see you nod, easing yourself out of your lower garments with his assistance. his tongue laps softly at your sex, eliciting a content sigh from you. your thighs wrap carefully around his head, and his arms link around them to hold you close. sleep clings to your skin like his touch. it's all light, all careful, his lips wrapping around your sex and sucking just enough to make you whine. it's a gentle build up of pleasure inside you. his fingers replace his lips somewhere along the way, stroking you as his tongue moves instead to your hole. his tongue pushes shallowly inside you, alternating between lapping and thrusting in a way that leaves you squirming around his head. trembling fingers grip his hair when you eventually climax. there's love in his eyes and in his smile as he licks his mess clean, his spit mixing with yours juices around his mouth and between your thighs. he only moves when you murmur something about wanting him inside you-- that catches his attention, and he's quick to finish cleanup before slipping out of his own clothes. he needs nothing more than a simple kiss to be prepped for you after such a wonderful show. your pleasure is his pleasure. his lips meet yours, and he lines himself up carefully before pushing into your hole with a few languid, easy thrusts. a sigh catches between your joined lips-- is it his, or yours?-- and he waits a moment before moving inside of you. you exist in many timelines, many worlds, all living different lives with different people. but he is eternally grateful he lives in this one. he couldn't imagine every being content after having you like this, ever craving someone else like he does you. a lifetime without you is simply not worth living in-- that, barbatos is sure of.

taglist for this series: @the-demonus-aunt // @scienceisfornerds // @hostilemakeover // @snow-fall1 // @kachan890 // @rphantom1 // @respitable // @deepseafragments // @niinian

#my apologies for dropping this a day late i wanted to do him justice #this is not as smutty as some of the others either but i genuinely don't picture him to have a real roster like the others #also i'm just now looking and this is Long As Hell #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me barbatos #obey me x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me smut

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roykentschesthair · 5 months

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Roy loves to hold hands

Absolutely adores it

It makes him feel close to his partner, let’s him feel connected and soothes his protective instincts when out amongst crowds.

It’s not about whether his partner needs that protection, Roy just needs to provide it and being allowed to hold their hand lets him keep them close and move them when necessary.

Keeley had understood intrinsically what his holding his hand out meant, they hadn’t even needed a conversation about it, she’d just taken his hand or his arm, or both, and stayed close.

He has to chase Jamie anywhere they go

Not just because of his knee, but because Jamie is a butterfly. Socially and in his flitting rapid movements as his mind leaps from one thought to another

Amsterdam had given him a taste, but they’d just been friends then, and barely at that, now, as boyfriends, (they’re keeping it quiet for now, though all the important people know) he’s chasing Jamie so much he debates getting him a leash for outside the bedroom

He can recognize that holding hands in public isn’t keeping anything quiet, but he longs for the feeling of Jamie’s fingers slotted with his, the warmth of his body against his side as they walk and Jamie chatters about whatever that days hyperfixation is.

So he starts holding his hand out. Quietly, never remarking on it, or demanding anything, just waiting to see what Jamie will do.

It takes a few days before Jamie starts handing him things, a flower, his ticket for the movie, and on one memorable occasion a wad of cash to pay for dinner

They’d genuinely fought about that one, Roy is a provider at heart, and he always pays. Always.

Then slowly, carefully, Jamie starts to inch closer when they’re out.

Lingers at Roy’s side a little longer, and then a little longer than that.

He naturally moves to the interior side of the sidewalk now, let’s Roy open doors, pull out chairs, and Roy just steadily holds out his hand, waiting.

Jamie brushes their pinkies together, links them for a moment that nearly stops Roy’s heart before he’s distracted by a window display and then off rambling about a topic Roy didn’t catch, feeling like all his blood rushed to that one finger.

Jamie is never shy when they’re alone, or amongst the team, but out in public, out amongst strangers, he’s skittish.

Roy understands and it’s still infuriating, he’s not as chill about keeping their relationship “quiet” as he once thought

He’s proud of Jamie, that’s his lad, and he wants people to know that they’re together, that Jamie is not in fact up for a quick tumble, and will never be again.

(That ring in his sock drawer feels like a physical weight sometimes, but it’s too soon, he’s going to do this right)

But he’s trying not to pressure, not to move on his own timeline and run over Jamie’s.

So he just holds out his hand and (not so) patiently waits.

It’s after a match, they’d been nearly beaten off the field, pulled a win by the skin of their teeth and they’re all stiff and exhausted as they make their way home.

The crowds are still thick, Jamie still had his muddy kit on, got caught up with Beard and Rojas and just laughingly said he’d shower at home.

Roy is a few steps ahead of him, even though they’re going to the same place, and on a whim holds his hand out behind him.

Jamie locks onto his hand like Mjolnir to Thor, and their fingers lock together with an almost audible click, Roy’s heart nearly leaps from his chest, and Jamie uses the leverage to pull himself to Roy’s side, holding his hand and leaning into him, sweaty and muddy and grinning, and Roy can see the flashes of cameras and the click of phones and he can’t care, because Jamie is holding his hand and grinning up at him like he set the sun, and Roy is absolutely going to break out the bedroom leash when they get home.

Maybe even that ring in his drawer.

#this is so long #and rambling #and again not at all what I set out to post #Roy and Jamie just make me long winded #especially Roy #and yea there’s a bedroom leash #puppy sub Jamie is practically canon #Roy likes to hold hands and dominate his boyfriend until he cries what about it #roy kent #ted lasso #jamie tartt #royjamie #roy x jamie #they’re in love your honor #jamie x roy

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daenysthedreamersblog · 2 months

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SUN BLEACHED FLIES- A STRANGERS STORY (IV)

God loves you, but not enough to save you

So, baby girl, good luck taking care of yourself

But I always knew that in the end no one was coming to save me

So I just prayed and I keep praying and praying and praying

summary: life was good, well as good as it could be always living on the end of president snow's leash dreaming of the freedom you don't even want

pairings: president!coriolanus snow x district6!reader

warnings: MDNI!! BLOOD! violence, power imbalance, coercion, slapping, choking, murder, death, suicide, gore, smut!!, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, dub-con, knives!!

notes: omgg i love these two and i hope i did them justice in this probable final piece of theirs, could have been rougher but sometimes u got to let the story write u ya know anyways!! enjoy my little psychopaths

His head moves over yours in beautiful slow motion, blond strands brushing against your forehead, sweat sliding down his nose to drip onto your parted lips. You drink it like holy water, like his sweat is the only thing that you can keep down as he thrust into you. Blue eyes bore into your own, burrowing down deep into you decrepit soul, or where it used to be, you had traded it over to him long ago for this, for him. You run your hands down wet naked skin as his movement slowed, as he spills inside of you with a teeth grinding groan.

The world comes back into focus as you stare up at his face watching him push curling blond hair off of his forehead. He brings his mouth down to let his teeth graze your jaw. You close your eyes as he pulls out of you, that ever gnawing emptiness replacing him, and slides next to your body, arms remaining locked around your waist. "Have dinner with me tonight." He trails his mouth up your neck. You open your mouth to remind him you had dinner with him every night in your pretty cage of a bedroom, "Downstairs." You turn to take in his face. "I have a surprise for you."

You answer by rolling over on top of him.

Later in the evening he sends his team of stylist to your room to get you ready. They put your hair into a delicate messy up-do and a layer of makeup before slipping on the champagne satin gown. You only were allowed to get dressed up for every Hunger Games when he paraded you around for everyone to see, then whisked you away to fuck you against the bathroom wall for everyone to hear. They leave you in a gentle silence letting you stare at your reflection for far longer than you should. You never recognized yourself, like that girl who's name had been reaped didn't exist anymore, had never existed at all. Your reflection was simply a ghost, a reminder of what he had turned you into, this hallow needy pliant shell, so you stand up and leave the room heels softly clicking against his wooden floor not believing much in ghost.

He's sitting at the head of the table drinking brown liquor out of a glass cup as he watches you walk into the room.

You take the seat on his right.

"You look nice." You watch as he leans forward to fill your glass up with white wine. You avoid grabbing it too quickly, forcing yourself to drink it slow instead of chugging it back. He liked to limit your alcohol intake, only letting you have it on special occasions which apparently was tonight.

This was the dance you always had been in with him since you won. It had been years since he locked you away here, years since you decided to not even bother trying to run away, maybe didn't even want to. You weren't even sure if you had ever wanted anything besides him. He had gotten married, he had children, the games continued, the world moved on, but the two of you were stuck in this suspended moment of time with each other.

"I'm having Livia and the children moved." He said cutting into his food. You sipped on your wine. "It's for the best they're not here."

"Won't you miss them?" You didn't see them often, especially Livia. At first she would come to dinner with the two of you, but once the children came you all had decided it best if they did not see you. You knew she still sometimes listened outside your door when her husband fucked you, but usually on nights she had too much to drink.

He sneered, "Not her." He didn't like her, but he did find enjoyment with his children. He wasn't overly affectionate with them, nor a very present parent but he did put an effort into making sure they were raised properly. They had once stumbled upon you in the greenhouse, and for a moment the world seemed to make pretend the four of you were one big happy family as he let you show them the few bluebells you had planted in the corner where no one could see. You saw him in their little faces, their bright blue eyes, and you wanted to please them just as much, make them proud of you.

But they weren't him, and you didn't care for anything that wasn't.

You pretended you needed to leave, and he went along with it as you dismissed yourself and vowed to never see them again. You didn't want to scare them, scare yourself with too many wrong feelings.

"Is that the surprise?" It would be nice to move more freely within his home without running into their little faces, running into Livia who despised you.

He put more food onto your plate shaking his head. "No. I have news of your parents." You sat up straighter. You hadn't been back to District 6 since he put you on that train and you knew he would never let you go back even if you asked, even if you wanted to. You weren't sure if you missed them, you know you should but it was hard to feel anything besides your hunger for him. It did puzzle you they never came asking for you, never tried to find you to bring you home, never tried to save you. You assumed they had been paid off or-!

"They're dead."

Your heart drops, it was a strange feeling. "What?"

He waved his hand like it was nothing, like they were nothing. "Morphling overdose." You furrowed your brows shaking your own head. No, they weren't addicts, they hated that you had drank so much after the Games. You're spiraling, so lost in trying to figure out how it happened you almost miss his confession, "They wouldn't stop asking about you."

Your vision tunneled in on his face. "You-you did it?"

You catch your slip right as his hand makes contact with your face snapping your head to the side. Don't stutter. But now your cheek was stinging with the consequences of your insubordination. Gentle fingers cup under your chin to turn your reddened face towards him, "They would have taken you from me." He spoke it so softly that you figured it had come from kindness.

What had he said to you all those nights ago within a thrown away plea, the sentence you had unwillingly agreed to that sealed your fate. 'Did you mean?' He whispered, 'That you don't want anyone to take you away from me.'

He runs his finger along your arm so gently tracing the blue veins like he too was thinking on the fond memory, "I only gave them the morphling; it isn't my fault they took so much of it." You close your eyes; he had gotten them hooked on morphling to the point they had overdosed and died all because they asked about you.

They had asked about you.

The hand gripping your wine glass squeezes too hard and the glass shatters around the table. Had they missed you? Did they love you? They had to have to ask him about you, but it's so hard to remember it, so hard to make your brain picture what that felt like. You know he's looking at you, can feel his eyes burning into your skull as you stare at the broken pieces, your blood dripping onto the edges. You grab the biggest piece and jump across the table at him. He roars as you jam it down into his shoulder reeling back with his own cup and smashing it across your head.

"I did it for you!" Your body flies to the side, cool marble meeting your skin, as he straddles your leg, hands coming around your neck too quickly, strangling you.

"Sir?" You hear his guards asking if they need to shoot you, they were always ready to.

He glances over his shoulder at them while you clawed at his wrist, legs flailing out trying to breath, "It's fine!" He looks back at you letting go of your throat admiring the color returning to your face, "It's fine." He grinds his teeth contemplating his next move, then he's clicking his tongue at you as you heave breaths. "I thought you'd be happy." He's sliding his hand up your thigh, "Aren't you happy?" Fingers meet your bare, soaked cunt, "Come on tell me what I want to hear." He pushes two fingers inside of you and you bite down on your bottom lip holding in the trained response, holding in the war raging inside of your cursed bleeding heart. You felt so alone in the world, but you weren't, you had him in every tortured version of this, you had him. His hand shifts, thumb pressing down on your clit and your mouth parts in a weak whimper. You glanced up at him expecting satisfaction, but cool anger greets you, "I thought you had let that pathetic life go."

"Th-!"

He pulls his hand out yanking you upward by your arm and throws you into the table bending your body around the wood, dishes clattering under you. "Maybe you need a reminder of how good you have it here." He rips your dress up around your hips baring your nakedness to him. You barely have time to register it before he slams into you. You gasp out against shattered silverware, glass poking into you as he starts to brutally thrust into you. "You don't have anyone else now." Your hands grasp for purchase on the table runner tears prickling your eyes, you're not sure what you're crying for, "You don't need anyone else." You try to pick up your head confusion and confirmation melding in your bones, but he slams it back down abusing your cervix with every deep thrust into you. "They were nothing!" His hips snap against yours, "I saved you! I am all you need." His hand snakes around your body pressing into your clit and you moan in agreement. He's right; he was all you needed. Not that life you had grieved, not the rumble of trains leaving the district, not the oil coating your father's hands or the tea your mother served. Your eyes squeeze shut as your body relaxes around him letting strange memories fade away like strange mechanical smoke. You arch your back for him. "There's my darling bluebell." You hear the smile in his voice and you melt into his skin knowing this was truly everything. You don't even listen to your broken heart weeping that they had asked for you as soon as the orgasm washes over you. He pounds into you harder, fingers marking your skin until his cum is coating every wicked part of inside of you.

You watch the blood drying on your hand.

He kisses your shoulder his cock still buried deep inside of you, "I did it for you bluebell." He pulls out of you, gently straightening your dress down before helping you stand up properly.

You turn to face him. He picks strands of glass out of your hair before pushing it off of your face, some pieces sticking to the blood on the side of your head. "Thank you Mr. President, sir."

He had ruined you, and you thanked him for it.

"Such a good girl." He cups your face and kisses your forehead. He glances to the back of the room where servants and guards no doubt stood watching. "Clean this up." He wraps his hand around your waist to lead you out of the room.

The months pass normally, without much change, which brings a sense of calm as you watch the seasons filter through the bars of your pretty cage. You watch the leaves change from green to orange to brown until they finally died on the ground below. You watched snow blanket the grounds of his mansion, watch it fall silently at night when the full moon was high and he lay naked in the bed behind you. How easy it would be to turn around and stab him in his frozen heart over and over again letting his blood pelt down on you like the rain hitting your window. Instead you watch snow melt on the wilted mushy grass below, watch the bugs fly across your window, watch them land and you wonder how freeing it felt to escape the little landing they had made within the hole of your inclosure.

But that freedom isn't worth it and dead flies stare back at you in their windowsill graves.

You make your way down to the greenhouse set on planting your spring flowers before summer took its complete hold over the world. You feel peace as you close the door behind you plunging the area in serene silence.

It's the only time you truly ever smile as your hand sinks into dirt, as you dig out a home for his white roses. He didn't let you plant them at first knowing your history of killing them on accident, but you had proved yourself, as you had with everything.

This is as far as he let you go within his property. You knew he was still watching, knew there were cameras, knew he had guards somewhere keeping an eye on you. It didn't matter, you told yourself with a gentle grin on your lips covering up the plant. No, not truly, as you watered it. This was your life now, it had been for years and you were content with the security, the seclusion, the insanity of it all, and besides you were nothing without him.

You glance in the far back corner of the room where empty pots sat that had once held your small number of blooming bluebells. They had withered and died long ago, you had let them, and never planted them again.

You liked his roses more.

Most of the day is gone when you head back into his home, and the minute the door closes something feels off, the hair on your neck standing up. You tuck your head down and make your way for the stairs to go back to your room not feeling up to figuring out why the house felt strange.

You didn't need to go searching for it since she was standing in your room.

"Mrs. Snow."

She sneers, "Oh yes I forgot you were so proper."

Don't stutter. "Can I help you with something?" You have your hands clasp in front of you standing up too straight as you watch her.

"Where is he?" She ask peering at her freshly manicured nails like this conversation bored her. You swallow unsure what to tell her. You didn't know where he was, he usually left in the morning for work and returned in the evening without this much fuss. "He wasn't at work, and I know he usually doesn't let you go too far off your leash." She stands up as you continue to not answer, but her eyes dart behind you. "Right again."

"Livia." You nearly collapse in relief at his voice behind you, at the wetness slipping out of you, at his hands coming onto your shoulders. "You shouldn't be here."

She glares, "See that's where you're wrong." Livia points at you, "That thing shouldn't be here. This is my home, I am your wife." You feel his fingers dig into your skin. "Why should I be holed up in that stupid apartment while it gets to play house in my mansion."

"It's my mansion Livia." He corrects her fingers toying with the skin on your neck. "And it's a very big apartment."

"You married me, you had children with me, you should live with me." Her cheeks flush in anger. "I don't care that you have a mistress, I don't care that you two are sick fucking people." She came forward too close, finger pointed at him, "I want what you promised me Coriolanus."

Your hand flies out as you slap her across the face. The room stills, you grab your hand back like it was a separate entity. You knew why it happened. Besides the way you moaned it, he didn't like when people used his real name and not his titled one, you didn't like that she had gotten too close to him. You had attacked others for far less offenses. She reels back her own hand, but he stops her midair with a hand around her wrist, "I gave you what I promised you Livia." He sighed, "You are the president's wife, you have financial and social standing, you are well provided for, what the fuck else could you possibly want."

"I want that thing gone, out of my home, my sight, my life." She hissed.

"Careful Livia," He laughed menacingly at her, "You're starting to sound jealous." He let go of her hand and motioned to the chair off to the side of the room, "Do I need to remind you of where your place is in all of this?"

You feel the wetness slide further down your leg at the mention of what he meant, the mention of making her watch as he took you over and over again like he had on their wedding night. She cringed, "You disgust me."

He pushed hair off of your neck kissing the sensitive skin there, "Then leave, go back to where I put you." She pushed past the two of you and stormed off down the hallway. He didn't even close the door as he turned you around and cupped your face, "She's a nuisance." He backed you up until the back of your knees hit the bed.

"She's your wife."

"I don't care." He mumbled onto your skin kissing across your collarbones as he laid you back onto the bed. "I liked watching you slap her." You knew he did from the feel of his hard cock pressing into your back when you had done it. He travels down your body until he's between your legs, and then he plants a soft kiss to your bare cunt. "You did too, didn't you bluebell?"

Only a small whine leaves your throat as his tongue swirls around your clit and everything seems to vanish in your head, all you can focus on is his mouth on your pussy. Your fingers are in his hair as you tilt your hips up for him more, his tongue pressing rough circles into the sensitive bud. You craved his pleasure, you craved his violence and nothing ever chased that feeling of need away besides him. His mouth wraps around your clit and sucks making you see stars behind your eyes back arching for it, body aching for it, for him. You push back with your hips with every stroke of his tongue before looking down at him staring into his hungry dark eyes as you cum against his face. He keeps licking at you, letting you ride it out on his tongue hands slowly releasing his hair.

He pushes up onto his knees your pleasure glistening on his chin. "Are you jealous?" You furrow your brows, but you know what he's asking. Were you jealous of Livia? That she got to marry him, have his children and go out in public with him. You and him had grown closer to each other throughout the years of twining your decaying souls together, it was something wretched and inhumane, your hatred had settled into something more docile.

But it always remained.

"No," You didn't want to marry him, or have his children, or go out with him at all besides that once-a-year Hunger Games party. "Mr. President, sir." You only truly ever liked him when he was inside of you, and you knew he shared the sentiment.

The corners of his mouth begin to straighten out of his joking smirk and suddenly you're unsure if you gave him the right answer. He stares at you, and you stare at him. Then he sighs and slides in next to your body, "How long has it been?"

"I never kept track Mr. President, sir." It could have been two years or seven or fifteen you could never be sure, you lost time like you had lost yourself. He never let you have a clock anyways and why did it matter, it's not like he was ever going to let you leave at a certain point in time, nor did you want to. He had told you forever, so forever you stayed within.

You had nothing but him.

You tuck yourself into his chest.

It's dark when he comes for you. He slithers in behind you, hard cock digging into your backside and you're snaking your hand around his head to pull him closer.

His teeth graze your neck, "Not now." But he bites your shoulder and you mewl for him pushing your ass back into him. "We don't have time." He hikes up your nightgown anyways, fingers dipping into your drenched cunt and you shift your self forward to give him more room to curl his hand up inside of you. "You can't help it can you." You shake your head into the sheets as he moves his hand faster only making you whine louder when he pulls it out, "Want me to fuck you that badly?" He doesn't even wait for the response he already knew before sliding down into you. It fills you too heavenly as you fist the blankets, biting down on the corner of your pillow as he slowly thrust into you. You'll never be full of him as you arch back, pushing yourself into him more, feeling every delicious stroke of his cock.

He pulls up slightly pounding down into you, twisting his hand in your hair to arch your back for him more until bones are groaning along with you. You squeeze your eyes feeling your body clenching around him, the heat of it pooling in your stomach, toes curling into the mattress. And then you're coming around him moaning out into the pitch black room as he lets your head drop back down so he can grip your hips wildly thrusting into you until he cums deep inside of you.

He runs a finger down your spine.

He leans down pushing it all into you with a kiss on you head. "Come with me." He pulls out too quickly and you turn to look at him confused while artificial light suddenly pours in through the window. He tucks himself away before holding his hand out for you. You look between his hand and his face with a small shake in your head the sense of unease filling you tamed blood. His eyes narrow on you so you glance down at your nightgown, "It doesn't matter, now come." His tone bites at the end so you climb to your feet to take his hand, letting him drag you from the room, down the stairs, and out into the foyer.

Your unease had been correct.

Livia is there, disheveled, hands tied behind her back and a gag around her mouth. She starts yelling frightfully into it when she sees you coming down the stairs. Two peacekeepers are standing on either side of the door, fingers on their triggers as they watch her. You still on the last step.

He motions to her; but your forehead is creased in confusion. He sighs coming back towards you, hands coming around your face, "It's been eight years, four months, and twenty-three days." You still didn't understand what that had to do with his wife, "You've been so good to me all these years." He comes closer pressing his mouth to your ear, "I need you to do one more thing for me."

You look past him at Livia who's eyes were widening with settled fear, understanding what this all meant. He wanted you to hunt her down and kill her. He wanted to watch you in the Games one more time.

He pulls back slightly to glance down at your face. His body presses in close to yours, a hand grasping onto your waist, "Will you do this for me?"

Something churns inside of you as you blink up at him, noses touching each other. There was no version of this where you got to say no to anything he said, it has always been that way, he had taken everything from you and still wanted to take more like the starving man he was, always grasping insatiably at you. So you tap into that rabid part of you he had always adored more, "Yes Mr. President, sir."

"My good girl," He smiles gently kissing your mouth. He waves his hand and you hear rope being sliced. Livia's shoes dig into the ground as they drag her outside no doubt giving her a head start from you. He caresses your face, "Now... tell me your mine."

His cum slides down your legs, "I am your creature. I am yours."

He let's go moving to the side as you fly out of the door after her like a hound on her scent. The moon offer its little light as you run into the night onto the property. His bright big floodlights make up the rest, beaming down upon you not allowing her any advantage in the natural darkness, you figured he might have wanted to give her some fighting chance since she truly stood no chance at all.

She had been his wife after all, and you simply, were his district mutt.

You still, the grass wet under your feet, a soft drizzle falling down on your skin as you look for her, listen for her, thunder rumbling in the distance. In your Games you had hid, you had survived until it was only you and that district two boy left, but now you were the predator hunting down the weaker tribute. Lightning cracked, illuminating her figure slipping into the trees.

You sprinted for her your moist nightgown flapping against skin. She clambered off into the woods loud footsteps stomping into the ground whimpering sobs echoing around her. It wasn't a large area of trees, something he had had planted around his home for privacy reasons, and it had offered her the cover she needed to evade you for longer. You slowed, listening to her stumble around in the dark forest letting the broken moonlight guide you on a path. The rain was coming down harder, leaves shaking with the pressure and wind while you searched for her with water dripping down your back.

Then it's quiet.

Your bare foot sinks into mud peering into the darkness.

She shouts as she runs for you stabbing you in back before taking off again. You groan as you reach back for it, struggling to wrap your fingers around the handle to yank it out, blood now pooling down your back. They had given her a weapon, a chance, and now she had squandered it.

You look down. It was the same knife you had killed that district boy with.

Your eye twitches.

You run after her, jumping over fallen logs, skimming past loose branches as thunder shakes the arena, rain pelting you. It was kill or be killed just like it had been when you had won the first time, you would win again. You take her to the ground as she claws at you slashing across your cheek.

"Stop!" She screams but you sink the knife into her arm watching her cry out in pain. You yank it back and plunge it down again but she keeps moving, keeps fighting and it slams into the ground. "People will ask about me, wonder where the president's wife went!" And you knew you'd kill them too if he asked. She knows it too as the knife slashes her wrist. "Kill him! He ruined your life!" Her fingers find fallen parts of trees and rocks and shes hitting you with them to get you off. "He killed your parents!"

You stop, eyes quivering down at her as lightning shoots across the sky behind you. You didn't have parents. You didn't. You only had him. You squeeze your eyes, but no-no that didn't seem true either. You can smell oil. You can smell vanilla tea in a small kitchen. You can feel the trains rumbling your house. My darling bluebell. You open your eyes, no that was just the storm crashing down onto you, that's just what he called you, no one else. There was no one else, only him. She uses your distraction to shove you off and climb on-top of you a large rock in her hands to break your skull open.

But it doesn't even matter if they were alive or not, if they were real or not, no one was coming to save you.

He had saved you

She's crying, or maybe it's rain. "Do you love him?" Her voice broke with her own heart.

"No."

You shove upward with the knife hearing the sick wet noise of stabbing her organs. Blood splashes down onto you as you rip the knife out. Her body slinks off of you into the dirt and she's grabbing at the growing wound staring upward at the sky.

White moonlight blankets her face in the break of trees as she coughs up blood. "I-I'm his wife." Don't stutter, you want to tell her, but all you can do is stare at her while she dies. "I used to wonder how after all these years you two can still fuck each other like animals." She swallows blood, "But then I realized you two are animals." You straddle her hemorrhaging body, "What will you be when I'm gone."

"His victor." You stab the knife down into her chest listening to the sick crunch of her sternum bone. Once, twice, three times you bring it down into her, blood splattering across skin, dripping down your body. You didn't hate her, you didn't think much of her, but then again you hadn't hated that boy from two and you had butchered him just the same.

She chokes on more blood then goes still beneath you. You wait for the canon, but only the storm answers you. You raise your face towards the onyx oblivion letting the rain splatter onto you washing her blood off of your skin, but the slick coating it left would remain, just like that boy from two. You take three deep breaths before standing up staring out into the dark distance wondering if he was watching. You could run. You could hold onto this knife and take off into the night and maybe make it out. He kept a tight leash on you, but he had let you off of it for this, would he expect you not to come back to him. A red light of a camera blinked within the bark of a tree; what was out there for you anyways? Something tugged behind your naval, a string pulling you backwards, and you figured you quite liked your cage, it was all you ever had. You sigh, wrapping your hand around her ankle, and dragging her body back towards the house.

The floodlights shine down on you as you break through the trees, peacekeepers all back to their post surrounding him standing in the middle of the lawn like your lighthouse on treacherous waters.

Like the God you had always prayed would save you.

You dropped her leg and walked towards him. "My darling bluebell." He cups his hand around your neck tilting your face up to his.

The tip of the knife presses into his stomach as your eyes bare into his. "You kept track." You push inward more the blade barely even cutting through clothing. He doesn't even try to stop you from stabbing him if you chose, and you wanted to. You wanted to shove it in deep, wanted to rip his intestines out to strangle him with.

"My sweet creature." His thumb caresses your filthy cheek, and then he presses your lips to his. Your mouths meld together, his tongue slipping inside tasting the dirt, your blood, her blood, all of it in a depraved kiss. Slowly, long fingers wrap around your wrist tugging your hand, the knife, upward until the sharp bloody blade is pressed to the soft flesh of your neck. You want him to slide it across, slash your throat wide open so you could finally escape him. He pressed in harder, the warm trickle of your own blood leaking down cool skin. That's as much as he pushes and you gaze up at him the question written on your every feature.

He tucks filthy hair behind your ear, "I've bent you so much, and you never break." He smiles at nothing, sadness his response. "My darling bluebell, my beautiful savage." His hand comes off of your wrist giving you the final choice in your death. His thumb traces your ear, "Would you do it if I asked you to?" Rain drips off of your nose onto your upper lip as it quivers out the gentle plea, your hand shakes, the blade cutting in a little deeper. The corner of his mouth ticks up, "You would, wouldn't you my good girl." It's pathetic because he had always been right about you, but maybe that was because he had made you. He softly tugged on your thumb holding the handle of the blade, "I find I am not quite fond of the idea of losing you."

He's all you know, and all you want to know, the sin you can never seem to cleanse yourself of. For some reason, you're not quite fond of losing him either.

The knife falls to the ground below

His hands travel down your body, cupping under you ass, and wrapping your legs around his body to walk you back inside his house. The doors slam shut behind you as his mouth never leaves yours, he slams you back into the wall paintings clattering to the floor as he keeps kissing you savagely. It all teeth and spit and tongues as your fingers rip open his shirt buttons flying in every direction dragging your dirty nails down his pristine chest.

It consumes you, he consumes you with an insatiable need that is never enough to fill a void he had scooped out of you. His hand slithers down your body to shove inside of you, to curl against that sweet spot that has your panting into his open mouth. "Am I all you need?" His hand thrust into you as his mouth trails across your jaw. "All you want?"

"Yes Mr. President, sir." You moan.

He growls shoving his body against yours, teeth digging into your skin. "My good fucking girl."

His palm presses down onto your clit as you move your hips with him fucking his hand until you can't keep your eyes open, gripping the wall behind you with chipped blood stained nails. You feel your skin split open from his canines and your clamping down around him, gushing around his knuckles until your body stops moving. He slams you down onto the stairs and pushes himself inside of you in one quick stroke.

You're covered in blood, covered in him and all you can do is claw at his back as he fucks you roughly against wooden steps. You wrap you legs around him to keep him close feeling his cock slide against a delicious spot that has you whimpering for more, always for more. Your mind feels empty but thoughts of him, your brain wired to his every whim. You didn't love him, you hated him viciously, but you worshipped him obsessively like he was the sick god who had stolen you away to his underworld. It would be you and him until the end of time tied together with bloody strings and pomegranate seeds. His fist kneads into your breast, his head following the same pattern to wrap around your nipple, licking and biting and sucking making you tilt your pelvis up for him to thrust into you deeper. Your teeth sink into his shoulder, blood filling your mouth as he growls into your skin thrusting even harder and faster. Heat pools inside of you, you feel yourself clenching around him with every powerful stroke of his cock.

"Cum for me baby girl."

It twist a knife inside your hallow chest as you clamp down around him screaming out his name into his mansion, the echo of it hitting off every wall. His fingers dig into your bones as he spills inside of you coating everything that belongs to him. You lose track of time as you lay there, stairs pressing into your back, his cock still twitching inside of you. You're both covered in sweat and blood and rain and each other, no one dares to move.

He pulls back to stare down at you brushing wet hair away from your face, his dried blood splattered down your chin and neck. There's something too soft in his blue eyes and it forces your brows to softly furrow at the unnamed emotion crossing over his features.

He whispers your name, something he never said.

You lean away from him.

"Tell me you hate me." The back of his nail slides across your collarbones and you want him to plunge it into you chest to pluck out your rotting heart to eat.

"I hate you." You whisper. "Mr. President, sir."

He kisses you like he was air you needed to breath and pulls out of you, slowly standing up. He walks around you disappearing up the stairs without a backwards glance. You lay there for a moment before standing up as well to walk back to your glorious cage to wait for him.

The world is so much quieter now, smaller as you walk down the Avenue of the Tributes alone. You had sat in the stands watching everything happen, watched that girl fire her arrow, watched them attack, watched them all slowly leave.

You stayed.

You watched with you hands folded over your lap as they killed him. You never looked away. And once everyone was gone you climbed down and walked so slowly along that long avenue towards his body.

He was still tied up, but most of him was gone, mangled blood and clothing on the ground around him. You stopped in front of him, his blood under your shoes, feeling the tears involuntarily sliding down your face. After so many years he was finally dead, you were finally free. You searched internally to name the emotion you were feeling, but there wasn't anything left of you anymore. It had all stopped when his heart did. It had all stopped when your name was pulled.

Through the gore and torn flesh you could still see pieces of wrinkled skin, hair white as snow, blue eyes buried under it all, but he would always remain that young man you had grown to loathe. You thought of his children, the same beautiful blue eyed children you had helped him raise, helped him train like show dogs, stepping in like some wet nurse after you brutally murdered their mother. You wonder what would become of them now that the whole world had collapsed with their father.

Your whole world.

You take another step forward your foot rolling over something. You bend down and pick up the small pill rolling it between two fingers, glancing up at his dead body. You thought of your pretty cage, thought of that bed you always seemed to be in.

You were always in that house, in that room. You could never get out, and now you could never go back home. You were always meant to bleed together. You had nothing, but you had him.

You slip the nightlock pill between your lips and swallow it down.

He was like a temple, left here for only you to worship at one last time. You go onto your knees in front of him taking in your last breath before collapsing in the pool of his blood at his feet, where you had always belonged.

If it's meant to be then it will be

So I met him there and told him I believe

Singing if it's meant to be then it'll be

I forgive it all as it comes back to me

endnotes: i was driving home from work and sun bleached flies by ethel cain came on and the minute i parked i wrote down the idea from this so its her fault i kept writing for these two psychos :) hope u all enjoyed!!

tags: @wearemadeofstardust0 , @astarborntowrite, @genderfluid-anime-goth , @merlieve , @darktrashsoulbear , @euphemiaamillais , @dousyskid , @bunny24sstuff , @bloobewy , @tmblrsexyw0man , @italiekim , @anthgoldenhrry , @becauseseaotters bold is tumblr wouldn't let me tag

#daenysthedreamersblog #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #president coriolanus snow #coryo smut #coryo snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #dark fanfiction #dark coriolanus snow #coryo x you #smutty fanfiction

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shadowdaddies · 10 months

Note

Could I possibly request a smutty Rhys x reader with the “crawl to me” trope? I have been trying to remember for so long what I wanted to request and it FINALLY came back to me lol

omg I got so excited when I saw this request. If you want the roles reversed lmk and I can write that but I want Rhys to crawl to me like this was what immediately came to mind lol

Crawl to Me

Rhys x Reader

Warnings: smut below the cut, oral f!receiving, sub!Rhys, p in v sex, minors dni, not proofread

The moment Rhys closed the bedroom door behind you, the tight leash you had been holding on your emotions snapped. Whirling around to push your finger accusingly at his chest, your eyes lit with fury. “What the fuck was that, Rhys? You completely undermined me in front of all those people.”

Rhys reached for your hand, his fingers softly brushing yours. Mischief danced in those violet eyes as he attempted to placate you. “Darling, you know that you play an equal role in this court-“ Yanking your hand out of his, you cut off his sentence. “Do not touch me right now, Rhysand. You cannot say that I am your equal when you do not allow me the opportunity to provide input in decision making. Did you see all of their faces when you agreed to the terms without consulting me? Those males were so smug to realize that High Lady is the decorative title they think it to be.”

Rhys’s throat bobbed, his face flush with shame as he witnessed the full extent of your distress. Running a hand through his onyx waves, he paced over to the sitting area, leaning against the table as he faced where you stood at the edge of the bed. Violet eyes lined with silver looked up into yours. “Darling, I am so sorry. I did not mean to dismiss your role as High Lady... I’m just-“ he paused, an anxious sigh leaving his lips as his leg nervously bounced against the floor. “I’m not used to consulting with anyone when I make decisions like that. But I will. You tell me what you don’t like about the deal and I’ll let them know that their High Lady has new terms.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at your mate’s antics. “It’s not about the deal, Rhys. The deal is fine. I just want to be included in these matters. It’s important to me that we are recognized as partners.” Rhysand nodded, rubbing his chin. “From now on, I will look to you - not only for confirmation, but for you to voice your input.” With a smirk, he added, “but for now, we’ll find something you want to change in the deal. Just so they know who’s in charge.” With a wink and his usual charming smile, Rhys had shifted the air in the room entirely.

His eyes roved over your body, the sleek black dress and heels that you had donned for the meeting leaving little to the imagination. Rhys’s eyes darkened, gaze turning hungry as his eyes flicked to yours. “Now, would you please let me show you exactly how much I admire you?”

You smirked back at him, standing tall as you slipped off the gown, leaving yourself bare except for the heels you wore. Rhys pushed against the table, fully standing as he moved to walk towards you. With a small shake of your head, the High Lord stopped dead in his tracks. Satisfaction filled you at his quick submission.

Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you leaned back and spread your legs. Rhys’s nostrils flared, his eyes glued to you as the combined scent of your arousals filled the room. Looking down your nose at the male, you snapped your fingers, pointing towards the ground. You had already forgiven him - you both knew it - but the temptation to draw this out further was too great. “Crawl to me,” you purred, a vicious smile on your lips.

The High Lord kneeled where he stood, looking up at you through dark lashes as he shifted to his hands and knees. The scent of his fresh arousal was enough confirmation that he was enjoying this as much as you were, eliciting a soft laugh from you as Rhysand crawled to the edge of the bed, where he kneeled, readily awaiting your instruction. “Good boy,” you purred, tucking the stiletto of your heel under his chin so that his eyeline was level with your pussy.

His tongue subconsciously flicked out, licking his lips as he itched for permission to touch you. “Mmm...” you cooed as you brought your foot back to rest so your legs were spread on the bed frame. “Do you think you deserve to touch your High Lady?” Rhys’s eyes moved to yours, his breathing heavy as he answered. “No, High Lady. But I would be honored to be allowed to pleasure you.” You hummed, pleased with that answer. “Good boy,” you cooed again, head tilting as you debated whether to tease him further.

As much as you enjoyed toying with your husband, you were just as eager for his touch as he was yours. “You may pleasure me, then,” you nodded. No sooner had the words left your mouth than Rhys lunged upwards, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs as he licked a broad stripe up your core. You collapsed against the bed, back arching as he continued his work on you.

Rhys suckled on your clit, alternating between long, gentle pulses and sharp sucks, tongue occasionally flicking out as he pushed his fingers into you. Talons scraped along the edge of your mind, and you opened without hesitation only to be bombarded with a mental image. You were sprawled out on the throne like this, Rhys’s own throne nowhere to be seen as he knelt before you, worshipping your body in front of the entire court.

Rhys withdrew from your mind, the feeling of his fingers curling against your walls bringing you crashing back to reality and over the edge. You screamed his name as Rhys worked you through your high, legs shaking when he finally released you from his grip.

You were heaving for breath, vision still hazy when Rhys crawled over you, licking his fingers clean as he watched you with a feline grin. His boastful expression was short-lived, as you pulled him in for a deep kiss, forcing your tongue between his lips as you tasted yourself in your mate. You rolled Rhys over, straddling his hips as you ground against him. “I need your clothes off, now,” you whispered, frantic with need to have your mate inside of you.

With a dark chuckle, Rhys vanished his clothes, now as bare as you. Rubbing your slick up and down his shaft, Rhys groaned as he gripped your hips. Taking hold of his hard cock, you lined him up with your center and sank down onto him, both of you moaning at the feeling. You rolled your hips back and forth as you bounced up and down, Rhys filling you everywhere as you worked him at an agonizingly slow pace.

Growing with impatience, Rhysand flipped you over, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder as he began pounding into you. Licking his thumb, Rhys brought it down to rub your clit, sending you over the edge again. Clumsily shoving his hand away, Rhys laughed as he continued thrusting into you.

Determined to maintain some sense of dominance, you licked your own finger, dragging it down the thick vein of his left wing. Rhys crumbled at your touch, coming undone with a roar as he filled you. Collapsing next to you on the bed, Rhys gently tilted your head to face him as he stroked your cheek. “I love you, my High Lady.” You laughed, rolling your eyes at his cheesiness. “I love you too, High Lord.”

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