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stylesispunk · 30 days ago

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"Shadows of the love under the laurel"

Marcus Acacius x fem!reader

Summary: In the shadows of the Roman Empire, you, a devoted servant, discover love with the honorable General Marcus Acacius. You both navigate the treacherous current of social expectations when a looming marriage comes to risk everything.

w.c: 13k.

warnings: themes of slavery and servitude, forbidden love, mentions of anxiety, mentions of blood, angst, fluff, poorly written smut, no proofreading.

a/n: I don't know what to write in here, but this one was a request by @negrita2345 i hope I did it justice and I hope you all enjoy it and share your thoughts with me because I really love to read your comments and thoughts. They make my day, so thank you in advance! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌 happy reading 💌✨

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

The sound of the iron gate clanged shut behind you, a cold finality to another day of servitude. You knew that sound well, it was the only sound you had known since you were born, clamoring as a death knell, just reminder of your place in the world. You didn’t even own your freedom, yet you belonged to everyone who had put their hands on your skin or had thrown daggers at you. As a servant, your life was nothing but an endless circle of command shouted from faces that never bothered to learn your name. They simply called you “girl.”

In your twenty-three years, you had learned to endure the sting of insults, the cruel hands that shoved you from one task to another, and the stares that stripped all your dignity. Respect was something that didn’t exist for someone like you, born in the shadows of Rome’s grandeur. You were a property, a tool to serve, to scrub, to clean, and to remain unseen.

And today was no different. You had been sold again.

The place you now found yourself in was the biggest you’d seen. The walls were taller than the marble floors polished to a gleaming white that made your hesitant to step across them. A legion of other servants moved like silent specters, each one avoiding you gaze as you were ushered through the grand halls. It was as though no one acknowledged the arrival of new blood. In their world, new servants were as replaceable as the jugs of wine they carried.

As you moved through the villa, you hear whispers-murmurs of the man who ruled this place. General Marcus Acacius, a name that belonged to a man who had gained respect and admiration. He was no ordinary master, it seemed. He was a warrior, a man who had earned his position through conquest and battle. A man who stood close to the Emperor himself.

Your stomach knotted at the thought. Men of power, you had learned, were often the cruelest. The more they gained, the more they needed to remind those beneath them how little they mattered. You could only hope that Marcus would be indifferent—that he would not notice you at all.

“Girl, this way.”

A sharp voice broke your thoughts. One of the older housekeepers, her face lined with age and wear, beckoned you down a side corridor. It was darker here, the sunlight from the Roman skies barely reaching the shadowed walls. The keeper’s voice softened as you walked.

“You’ll serve General Acacious directly,” she said. “He’s… not like the others.”

You glanced up, surprised by the odd tone in her voice. You weren’t sure if the keeper meant it as a warning or a reassurance, but you nodded nonetheless, keeping your eyes lowered. You approached a set of heavy doors, carved with intricate symbols and flanked by tall, stoic guards. The keeper gestured toward them.

“The general is inside. Speak only when spoken to. He does not tolerate foolishness.”

With a final nod, the keeper disappeared down the corridor, leaving you alone. You stood for a moment, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. There was no telling what awaited you on the other side of those doors. You swallowed hard, brushing a strand of dark hair from your face before you stepped forward.

The guards opened the doors without a word, and you found yourself in a large, open room filled with the smell of burning incense and leather. It was dimly lit, the sunlight creeping through narrow windows high above, casting long shadows on the ground. Your gaze lifted, and then you saw him.

Marcus.

General Marcus Acacius stood by a table, bent over a map with a furrowed brow. His armor was still strapped across his broad shoulders, and the crimson cloak draped over his back gave him the appearance of a man who had just come from battle. He was taller than you had imagined, his presence commanding without a single word. His dark hair was cropped close, and his sharp features bore the marks of someone who had lived a life of discipline and war.

For a long moment, he did not acknowledge your presence. You stood still, your heart pounding as you waited for his command, for the words that would decide the course of your life here.

Finally, he looked up, his dark eyes locking onto yours. There was something in his gaze that startled you, not precisely cruelty, but something else. Something you couldn't quite name.

"You are the new servant?" His voice was low, measured. He didn’t shout like the others.

"Yes, General," you replied softly, lowering your eyes to the floor as was expected.

He watched you for a moment longer, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you, almost burning. It was as though he was seeing something in you that others had never cared to look for.

"Good," he said at last, turning back to his maps. "You will serve me directly. Be quick. Be silent. That is all."

His words were not cruel, nor were they kind. They were simple, matter-of-fact. You let out a quiet breath, your heart still pounding in your chest. You turned to leave, but something held you in place, a curiosity that stirred within you, a question you did not dare ask aloud.

What kind of man was General Marcus Acacious?

As you left the room, the weight of your life as a servant settled back onto your shoulders, but there was something different now, something you had not expected. It was faint, a flicker of warmth in the cold corridors of your mind.

In the days that followed, you learned what it meant to serve Marcus Acacius. His world was orderly, precise, and unyielding. He expected his servants to move with quiet efficiency, anticipating his needs before he voiced them. There was no room for error, but unlike you previous masters, there was also no room for cruelty. Mistakes were met with silence, not blows. It was a strange sort of mercy, one that left you both relieved and on edge.

You were tasked with attending to the general’s quarters, a task that placed you in close proximity to him every day. You polished his armor, prepared his baths, and ensured that the scrolls and maps he studied late into the night were neatly arranged. He rarely spoke to you, and when he did, it was brief and to the point. Yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he noticed you in a way no one else had.

It was in the quiet moments between orders that you caught fleeting glimpses of the man behind the title.

One afternoon, as you were cleaning his quarters, you heard a faint groan of pain. Startled, you looked up to see Marcus standing by the window, his hand gripping his side. His face was tight with discomfort, though he said nothing.

You hesitated, unsure if you should speak. “General… are you hurt?”

His eyes flicked toward you, the sharpness in them softening just slightly. For a moment, you thought he might ignore your question, but then he spoke.

“It’s nothing,” he said, his voice strained. “An old wound. It… flares up from time to time.”

He didn’t offer more, and you knew better than to pry. Yet, something in his tone—a vulnerability you hadn’t heard before made you want to help.

Without thinking, you set aside your cleaning cloth and moved toward him. “I could bring you something… some herbs. For the pain.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, surprised by your boldness. “You know of such things?”

“My mother… she was a healer,” Your replied quietly, your eyes downcast. “Before…” You trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence. The silence filled in the gaps—before you were taken, before you became a servant.

He watched you for a long moment, as if weighing your words. Finally, he nodded. “Very well. Bring it.”

You hurried to the kitchens, your heart pounding. It was the first time Marcus had allowed you to do anything beyond your usual duties. As you gathered the herbs your mother had once shown you, the ones that could ease any pain and swelling, you thought of the strange connection you had felt in that moment. It wasn’t just your desire to help him. It was something deeper, something unspoken that passed between them.

When you returned to his quarters, Marcus was seated at the edge of his bed, the tension in his shoulders evident. You approached cautiously, mixing the herbs into a small vial of oil, then holding it out to him.

“You need to apply it to the wound,” you explained, your voice barely above a whisper. “It should ease the pain.”

Marcus took the vial from you, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment. His touch was warm, surprising you. Your eyes met, and in that fleeting second, you felt an unfamiliar flutter in your chest—a burn you quickly buried.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone sincere. It was a small word, but coming from a man like Marcus, it carried weight.

You bowed your head, stepping back as he stood and moved to apply the oil himself. You returned to your work, quietly cleaning the room, but your mind was elsewhere. You had never thought much of men, especially men of power. To you, they were all the same: cruel, indifferent, obsessed with their own glory. Yet, Marcus was different. He was distant, yes, and bound by duty, but he was also… something else. There was a complexity to him, a quiet pain that you couldn’t quite understand.

As the days passed, you found yourself watching him more closely. You noticed the way he carried the weight of command, his posture rigid, his eyes always alert. He was a man constantly at war, not just with the enemies of Rome, but with himself. You saw it in the way he would stare out the window late into the night, lost in thought, his fingers drumming against the hilt of his sword as though preparing for a battle that had not yet come.

And then, one evening, everything changed.

It was late, the rest of the household quiet, and you were tidying the general’s quarters as he sat by the hearth, reviewing maps of distant lands. The flicker of firelight cast shadows on his face, making him appear both weary and resolute. You were just about to leave when he spoke, his voice low and thoughtful.

“Tell me,”He said, following by the use of your name for the first time. “How did you come to be here? In this life?”

Your breath caught. No one had ever asked you that before. No one had ever cared to. You hesitated, unsure if you should answer, but the look in his eyes was not one of command. It was curiosity. Genuine, quiet curiosity.

“I was born into it,” you replied softly. “My mother… she was a healer in a small village outside of the city. But when the soldiers came, they took us. I was just a child then. I don’t remember much before it.”

Marcus’s gaze lingered on you; his expression unreadable. “And your mother?”

“She didn’t survive long after that. She grew sick, and no one would help her.”

There was a long silence after that, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. You stood there, your hands clasped in front of you, waiting for him to dismiss you. But he didn’t. Instead, he sighed, a sound so faint you might have missed it had you not been standing so close.

“Life in Rome is rarely kind,” he said, his voice distant. “Even for those who believe themselves fortunate.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You simply stood there, watching as the general seemed to wrestle with thoughts he could not or would not speak aloud. Finally, he shook his head, as if clearing his mind, and looked at you once more.

“You may go,” he said, his tone once again that of a man in command. But there was a softness to it now, something that hadn’t been there before.

You bowed and left the room, your heart pounding. As you walked down the dark corridors of the villa, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you, that the lines separating servant and master had blurred, if only for a moment.

Weeks passed, and Your role in Marcus’s household became routine, yet far from ordinary. You had served many masters before, but none like him. There was a strange rhythm to your interactions now, a wordless understanding that passed between you in brief glances and moments too fleeting for anyone else to notice. Marcus was still the general, the powerful, untouchable figure, but there were cracks in his armor that only you seemed to see.

The changes were small at first. A few words exchanged at the end of the day, a subtle shift in the way his eyes lingered on you when you thought he wasn’t looking. It was during one such moment, late in the evening, that your quiet bond deepened.

You were clearing away the remains of his evening meal, the room lit only by the soft glow of a single oil lamp. Marcus sat at his desk, writing a letter, his brow furrowed in concentration. You moved silently, careful not to disturb him. But as you turned to leave, your hand brushed the corner of the table, knocking over a small cup.

The sound echoed in the stillness.

Your heart leaped into your throat. You had been so careful, always careful. You froze, waiting for the rebuke, the sharp words you had heard from other masters a hundred times before.

But instead of anger, Marcus’s voice came, calm and even. “It’s alright. Leave it.”

You paused, your fingers trembling as you stooped to pick up the cup, determined not to disobey. But as you did, Marcus spoke again, his tone softer this time.

“Do you always expect punishment so quickly?”

You straightened slowly, unsure how to answer. “It’s what happens when mistakes are made, General,” you replied quietly, your eyes still downcast.

Marcus stood, his towering frame casting long shadows in the flickering lamplight. He approached you slowly, the silence between you thick with unspoken words.

“Not here,” he said, his voice low. “You don’t have to fear that here.”

His words, though simple, carried a weight that you weren’t prepared for. For a moment, you dared to look up at him, meeting his eyes. There was something in his gaze—a gentleness that you had never expected to find in a man like him. It made your chest tighten, and you quickly dropped your gaze again.

Marcus sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t know what kind of men you served before, Mea Columba, but cruelty… it does not make a man stronger. It only makes him feared.”

He was quiet for a long time after that, standing just a breath away from you. You could feel the heat of his presence, the nearness of him unsettling but not unpleasant. You could sense the tension in the air, something unspoken hanging between you like a thread stretched too tight.

“You deserve better than that,” he said finally, his voice almost too soft for you to hear.

Your heart raced, your thoughts a tangled mess. How could he say such a thing? You were nothing more than a servant, a slave, how could someone like him believe you deserved anything at all? But in his words, you heard the truth of what he felt, and it terrified you as much as it filled you with something dangerously close to hope.

Before you could reply, before you could make sense of the moment, the door creaked open, and a soldier entered the room, interrupting them. Marcus immediately stepped back, his expression shifting into the impassive mask of the general once more.

“General Acacius,” the soldier said, bowing. “The emperor has requested your presence tomorrow. Urgent matters to discuss.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened. “Very well. Inform the Emperor I’ll be there.”

The soldier bowed again and left the room, leaving you and Marcus standing in the silence. The air between you had changed, something fragile, something delicate had passed between you, but neither dared acknowledge it.

“You may go” Marcus said, his voice once again composed, though you could sense the tension beneath it. “Get some rest.”

You bowed quickly and left the room; you heart still pounding in your chest. As you walked back through the dim corridors, you replayed his words in your mind

“You deserve better”

and wondered how dangerous it was to believe them.

You hadn’t expected him to say your name, less to hear a name with such affection from him It startled you, but in a way that made you feel seen, in a way that sent warmth through you despite the cool evening air.

“It’s all I’ve known,” you whispered, barely able to speak the words.

Days passed in a quiet blur, and the memory of that evening lingered between you, heavy and unspoken. Marcus was the same outwardly, maintaining his stoic demeanor in front of his soldiers, the senators, and his household. Yet, when he looked at you, when your eyes met across the room during your brief encounters, you could feel the shift in him, the way his guarded exterior faltered for just a moment.

It was in these fleeting moments that you began to understand the gravity of what was growing between you. You had never been close to a man before, not like this. Your world had always been one of shadows, of quiet obedience. But now, Marcus’s presence lingered in your thoughts, his words echoing in the stillness of your nights.

"You deserve better."

You couldn’t stop hearing it. And it frightened you. How could someone like him, someone with power, command, and the loyalty of an empire, care about someone like you, a servant who had spent her life in the background? The idea felt dangerous, as though it could upend everything you knew, yet it was there, undeniable.

The tension between you simmered, growing with each passing day. You never spoke of that moment again, but it hovered between you, thickening the air whenever you were alone.

One afternoon, you were attending to the general’s chambers when he returned earlier than expected from the training grounds. His tunic was damp with sweat, the edges of his dark hair clinging to his forehead, and a fresh bruise marked his arm.

He entered the room quietly, not saying a word at first, watching as you busied yourself, you’re your work. You tried to remain calm, to focus on your duties as you had always done, but the awareness of his gaze unsettled you. Finally, Marcus broke the silence.

he said your name, almost sounding hesitant.

You turned to face him, your heart quickening at the sound of your name. He had been saying it more often lately, and each time it carried a weight that made your pulse race. “Yes, General?”

For a moment, Marcus seemed to struggle with himself, his expression hard to read. He took a step closer, the air between you humming with tension. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, though the statement felt more like a question. “Are you… well?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. “I am, General. I—” You hesitated, unsure how to respond. The truth was, you had been keeping your distance, afraid of what might happen if you let yourself grow any closer to him. “I’ve just been… busy with my tasks.”

His eyes searched yours, as though he could see past your words to the truth beneath them. “You don’t have to keep your distance, mea columba,” he said quietly. “Not from me.”

The words sent a shiver through you. You wanted to step back, to remind yourself of your place, but something in his gaze held you still. There was a tenderness there, a vulnerability that you hadn’t expected to see in him.

“I’m only a servant,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You… you don’t have to concern yourself with me.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, and he took another step toward you, closing the distance between you. “You’re more than that,” he said, his voice firm but soft. “You’re more than what this life has made you.”

Your breath caught. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to the depth of his words. You had spent your whole life believing that your worth was measured by your service, by how invisible you could make yourself. But Marcus… he saw you. And it terrified you as much as it filled you with warmth.

“You deserve more than this life, mea columba” Marcus continued, his hand lifting ever so slightly as if he wanted to reach for you but stopped himself. “More than this… than the way others have treated you.”

Tears burned at the edges of your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. You couldn’t let herself believe in what he was saying. It was impossible. He was a general, bound by duty and honor to Rome. And you were, no, you had to be nothing to him. Anything else was too dangerous to even imagine.

“Please,” you said, almost pleading, “don’t say such things. I can’t…” You trailed off, your words caught in your throat.

Marcus’s eyes softened, the hard edges of his face relaxing just slightly. “I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know we can’t… but it doesn’t change how I feel.”

The admission hung in the air between you, raw and real. Your heart pounded, your mind reeling from the weight of his confession. You wanted to step forward, to reach out and touch him, to tell him that you felt the same—that his kindness, his quiet strength, had stirred something in you that you had never thought possible.

But she couldn’t. The world wouldn’t allow it. He was a man of power, and you were a servant. Their lives were too different, their paths too far apart.

And yet, standing there in the quiet of the room, with only the soft flicker of candlelight between you, it felt as though the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only the two of you in the stillness.

Marcus reached up, his hand trembling ever so slightly as it brushed against your cheek. You gasped at the touch, your skin tingling under his fingertips. It was the first time he had touched you like this, softly, tenderly, as though you were something fragile and precious.

“I wish things were different,” he murmured, his thumb gently caressing the curve of your jaw.

You closed your eyes, leaning into the warmth of his hand despite yourself. You knew you shouldn’t, knew that this moment could only lead to heartache, but you couldn’t stop herself. “So do I,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

For a long moment, you stood there, suspended in the silence, the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you. But then, just as quickly as it had begun, Marcus pulled away, his hand falling to his side. The mask of the general slipped back into place, his expression once again composed, though his eyes still burned with the emotions he couldn’t voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, stepping back. “I shouldn’t have—”

You shook your head. “No, it’s… it’s alright.”

But it wasn’t. You both knew it.

“You should go,” Marcus said, his voice rough with regret. “We… we can’t.”

You nodded, though your heart ached. “Goodnight, General.”

You turned and left the room, your heart heavy with the weight of what had just happened.

The days that followed were unbearable. You tried to go about your duties as usual, but you couldn’t shake the weight of Marcus’s words, the feel of his hand against your cheek, the unspoken desire that lingered between you. It haunted you in the quiet moments, in the stillness of night when you were alone with your thoughts.

And you could see it in him, too.

Every glance you shared, every brief exchange, held a tension that had not been there before. Marcus’s eyes lingered on you longer than they should, his gaze filled with something he dared not speak aloud. You could feel the conflict within him, the struggle between his duty and what lay deep in his heart.

One afternoon, as you were preparing the general’s chambers for the evening, you heard footsteps behind you. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was. You could feel his presence, the energy in the room shifting the moment he entered.

“Columba” he said softly, his voice different from the tone he used with anyone else. There was no command in it, no expectation—just a quiet plea.

You turned to face him, your heart already racing at the sound of your nickname on his lips. He stood in the doorway, his posture rigid, yet his eyes betrayed him. They were filled with the same turmoil that had been building between you for weeks.

“General,” you said, your voice steady though your heart was anything but.

He stepped forward, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. “Marcus,” he corrected, his gaze fixed on yours. “When we’re alone, please… call me Marcus.”

The intimacy of his request made your chest tighten. You had spent your life addressing him with titles, always reminding herself of the distance between you, but now… now he was asking you to cross that distance, to meet him as something more than a servant.

“Marcus,” you repeated softly, the word feeling foreign yet familiar on your tongue.

A small smile touched his lips, but it was strained. He walked slowly toward you, his movements careful, as though he was afraid to shatter the fragile space between you. When he stopped just a step away from you, you felt the air grow thick, the unspoken emotions pressing down on you both.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Marcus said, his voice low and rough with honesty. “I’ve tried… I’ve tried to bury it, to remind myself of who I am, of what’s expected of me. But every time I see you, every time I hear your voice… it’s like I can’t breathe.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. You had never imagined a man like Marcus, a man of such power and command, could feel this way about you. You had always been invisible, always kept in the shadows. But with him, you felt seen. And that terrified you.

“Marcus, we can’t…” You shook your head, your voice trembling. “You know we can’t. You’re a general. You serve Rome. I’m nothing more than a servant.”

“You are not nothing,” Marcus said sharply, his eyes flashing with a rare intensity. He reached out and gently grasped your wrist, his touch sending a jolt through you. “Don’t ever say that. You are everything I—” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening as if he were trying to restrain words he couldn’t say.

Your heart pounded in your chest. You could feel the heat of his hand on your skin, the warmth of his breath as he stood so close. Every instinct told you to pull away, to remind him of the impossibility of this, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t deny the pull between you, the feelings that had been growing in your heart, no matter how forbidden they were.

“Why me?” you whispered, your voice fragile as your heart. “Why would you care for someone like me, when you could have anyone?”

Marcus’s gaze softened, his grip on your wrist loosening but not letting go. He lifted your hand slowly, his thumb brushing over your palm in a gesture so gentle it made you ache. “Because you see me,” he murmured. “Not the general, not the man who leads armies or answers to the emperor. You see me.”

His words made your chest tighten painfully. You had always tried to stay invisible, to keep your head down and avoid the eyes of those who held power over you. But with Marcus, it was different. You saw the man beneath the armor, the one who carried the weight of duty and responsibility on his shoulders but longed for something more—something real.

“I can’t stop what I feel for you,” Marcus continued, his voice filled with raw honesty. “Even though I know it’s wrong, even though I know what the world would think if they knew… I can’t stop.”

You felt your resolve crumbling. You wanted to tell him that you felt the same, that his kindness, his gentleness, had woven its way into your heart. But the fear of what could come from this, the danger of their impossible love, held you back.

“I feel it too,” you admitted softly, you voice barely above a whisper. “But we have no future, Marcus. You know that. You’ll be expected to marry—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his voice tight. “I know I’m bound by duty. I’ve spent my whole life doing what Rome asks of me. But for once, Livia, I want something for myself.”

His words hung in the air, thick with longing and pain. Your heart ached for him, for the man who had given so much of himself to an empire that would never give him the freedom to love who he chose. And yet, even as you felt the weight of his confession, you knew the truth.

“Even if we want this,” you whispered, “Rome will never let it happen.”

Marcus’s face tightened with frustration, his hand still holding yours as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

You stood in silence for a long moment, the weight of your love pressing down on them. Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between the desire to give in to the feelings you had tried so hard to suppress and the reality of the world they lived in.

Finally, Marcus spoke again, his voice heavy with resignation. “I don’t know what the future holds,” he said softly. “But I know that for now… I need you here. By my side. Even if that’s all we can have.”

You swallowed hard, tears burning at the edges of your eyes. You knew he was right. Your love, if it could even be called that, would never be allowed to flourish in the light. But in the shadows, in the quiet moments you shared, it was real. And maybe, for now, that had to be enough.

You nodded, your voice barely audible as you whispered, “I’ll stay.”

Marcus’s shoulders seemed to relax, and for the briefest moment, a small, sad smile crossed his face. He gently released your hand, stepping back, the distance between you once again restored. But the bond you shared remained.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. “For staying.”

It was a few days later, and the weight of your shared confession still lingered in the air. The nights had grown heavier with unspoken feelings, and each day, the tension between you and Marcus became harder to ignore. You told yourself to be content with what little time you could have by his side, though it tore at you, knowing that it would never be enough.

That evening, you were cleaning his quarters, your movements methodical, when the door creaked open behind you. You turned and saw Marcus step in, but this time he wasn’t the composed general you had grown used to. His tunic was torn at the shoulder, a dark patch of blood staining the fabric. His brow was furrowed, his jaw set in pain. He tried to stand tall, but there was no hiding the wince as he moved.

"Marcus," you gasped, forgetting all formality in the moment, rushing toward him. Your heart hammered in your chest, worry washing over you at the sight of him.

“It’s nothing,” he said gruffly, waving off your concern, though the tightness in his voice betrayed him. “Just a training injury.”

You moved closer, eyes searching his. You had seen him injured before—he was a soldier, after all—but this felt different. There was a vulnerability in the way he looked at you, as though he had allowed himself to come to you in a moment of weakness.

“You should sit,” you said softly, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. “Let me prepare a bath for you.”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, walking slowly toward the bed and sitting on its edge, his movements stiff and labored. His dark eyes followed you as you quickly went to work, preparing the bath with warm water and fragrant oils to ease his wounds and the tension in his body.

When you returned, you found Marcus removing his tunic, the fabric peeling away from the gash on his shoulder. His skin was marred with bruises, old and new, the marks of a warrior who had seen countless battles. But it was the fresh wound that made your heart ache, the sight of him in pain stirring something deep within you.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, kneeling beside him. He met your eyes, his expression unreadable, and then he nodded, allowing you to step closer. With trembling hands, you gently unfastened the remaining clasps of his armor, your fingers brushing against his skin. You tried to keep your touch professional, but each time your skin met his, a jolt of electricity shot through you.

Once he was bare to the waist, you guided him to the bath. He lowered himself into the warm water with a sigh, his muscles relaxing as the heat enveloped him. You sat on the stool beside the tub, gathering a soft cloth in your hands. You hesitated for a moment, the intimacy of what you were about to do settling heavily in your chest.

When you began to gently scrub his skin, the water rippling with each movement, Marcus closed his eyes, leaning back slightly. His breath came in slow, deep draws, and for a moment, it was as though the world outside the room no longer existed. There was just you, him, and the quiet sound of water.

Your hands moved carefully over his skin, your touch tender and cautious, tracing the contours of his shoulders, his back, the lines of his strong arms. You could feel the tension in his body slowly easing, though your own pulse raced with each moment that passed. The intimacy of the act was overwhelming, but Marcus made no move to stop you.

As you worked, you couldn't help but steal glances at his face, at the way the flickering candlelight danced across his strong jaw and the softness in his expression that he only ever showed when you were alone.

He opened his eyes after a long silence, catching your gaze. “You don’t have to do this,” he murmured, his voice husky from the warmth of the bath or perhaps something more.

“I want to,” you whispered, barely able to meet his eyes. “Let me take care of you.”

The vulnerability in your voice, in the gesture of your care, seemed to affect him deeply. Marcus’s eyes softened, and he reached out, his fingers brushing against your wrist in a silent gesture of thanks. The warmth of his touch lingered on your skin long after he pulled away.

For a long while, you continued in silence, the only sound the gentle splashing of water as you washed away the blood, the dirt, and the exhaustion from his body. Each stroke of the cloth felt like a confession, a quiet way of telling him what you couldn’t say aloud. That you cared for him. That you wanted to protect him in whatever small way you could, even though you knew you couldn’t keep him from the dangers of the world beyond these walls.

When you reached the wound on his shoulder, you were as delicate as possible, your touch light and careful. Marcus winced slightly, but he didn’t pull away. His eyes remained on you, dark and intense, watching every movement of your hands as though you were something precious.

“You’re always so careful,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why?”

You paused, your heart tightening at the question. How could you explain it? How could you put into words the way your heart ached for him, the way you wished to offer him comfort in a world that demanded so much of him?

“Because you’ve given me more kindness than I’ve ever known,” you whispered, barely able to say the words. “I want to give some of it back.”

Marcus’s gaze softened even more, and for a moment, it seemed as though he might say something, something that would change everything between you. But instead, he closed his eyes, leaning back into the water, his hand slipping beneath the surface and resting on the edge of the tub.

You continued to wash him in silence, your heart heavy with the knowledge that these moments, these stolen moments in the shadows, were all you would ever have. And yet, they felt so real, so profound, that you couldn’t bring yourself to regret them.

When the bath was finished, you helped Marcus stand, wrapping a towel around his broad shoulders. He stood before you, his body strong but weary, the weight of his duties ever present in his posture. You couldn’t help but reach out, your hand brushing lightly against the wound on his shoulder.

“Does it hurt?” you asked softly.

He shook his head, but his eyes told a different story. “Not as much as other wounds,” he said quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “Not as much as the ones I can’t show.”

Your heart clenched at his words. You understood. The wounds of battle were visible, but the wounds of the heart—the ones inflicted by duty, by honor, by a world that wouldn’t allow him to follow his desires—were far deeper.

Marcus’s hand reached out, his fingers gently curling around yours, and for a moment, he held on as though you were the only thing keeping him grounded. His eyes searched yours, filled with emotions too complex to name

Marcus’s fingers curled around yours, and in that moment, the air between you seemed to shift. The world outside his chambers fell away, leaving only the two of you, standing so close, bound by an unspoken connection that had been building since the moment you first laid eyes on him. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver through you, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as his thumb gently brushed over the back of your hand, a simple touch that carried a weight neither of you could ignore.

His hand lingered, holding yours as if it was the only anchor he had left. His eyes were darker now, filled with emotions too complex to name—longing, conflict, something deeper that neither of you had dared to speak aloud. The space between you felt fragile, like a thread stretched too tight, and yet neither of you could pull away.

“Mea columba” he murmured, his voice rough, barely more than a whisper. The way he said your name sent warmth coursing through your veins, and you felt yourself trembling beneath the intensity of his gaze.

You opened your mouth to speak, to say something—anything—to break the silence, but the words wouldn’t come. You didn’t need them. Everything was in his eyes, the way they searched yours, as though he were trying to find an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked.

Slowly, cautiously, Marcus took a step closer, his hand still holding yours. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, the pulse in your ears deafening as the space between you closed. His breath was warm on your skin, mingling with your own as he stood so close that the air felt charged, thick with something unspoken.

He reached up with his free hand, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed a strand of hair from your face. The touch was so tender, so careful, that it made your heart ache. His thumb lingered on your cheek, his palm cradling the side of your face, as though he were afraid to break the moment, afraid to shatter the delicate connection you shared.

“I’ve tried to fight this,” he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet desperation. “I’ve tried to remind myself of what’s right, of my duty, of all the reasons why I can’t—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. You already knew. You knew the weight of the world that rested on his shoulders, the impossible choice he faced between the life he was bound to and the feelings that had grown between you.

But in that moment, as you stood in the dim light of his chambers, none of it seemed to matter. It was just the two of you, and the pull between you was too strong to deny.

“Marcus,” you breathed, your voice trembling as his name passed your lips, a quiet plea for something you both knew couldn’t be undone.

He hesitated for just a moment, his gaze searching yours one last time, as if waiting for a sign, for permission to take that final, forbidden step. And then, with a soft, broken sigh, Marcus leaned in.

His lips brushed yours, so softly at first that it felt like a whisper, a question, a promise. The world seemed to still around you, the moment suspended in time as he kissed you with a tenderness that made your heart ache. His hand tightened around yours, holding you close, as though he were afraid to let go, afraid that this fragile moment would slip away if he loosened his grip.

And then, slowly, the kiss deepened. His lips pressed more firmly against yours, and all the emotions that had been building between you, longing, desire, love, poured into that single, desperate kiss. It was as though every unspoken word, every hidden glance, every touch that had lingered too long was finally allowed to come to life.

You kissed him back, your hand finding its way to his bare chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath your fingers. It beat in time with yours, fast and hard, as if it, too, was caught up in the storm of emotions swirling between you. His other hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, his body warm and solid against yours.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the rules, not the expectations, not the world outside these walls. There was only Marcus, his lips on yours, his hands holding you like you were something precious, something he had longed for but never thought he could have.

“I don’t know how we’ll keep this secret… but gods, I can’t stop myself. I don’t want to stop.”

You felt the same. You didn’t know how you would hide this, how you would keep it from the eyes of the world, but in that moment, you didn’t care. You had already crossed a line, and there was no going back.

“I don’t want to stop either,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “But we’ll find a way… we have to.”

Marcus’s hand slipped from your waist to your cheek once more, his fingers brushing softly against your skin. He leaned in again, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment as though he were trying to hold on to the peace you had found in each other, but as soon as your eyes connected in unspoken pleas, his lips found yours again, this time his kiss screamed desire for you.

The way his right hand slipped down your arm, his touch soft but filled with purpose, sent a shiver through you. His fingers trailed along the curve of your waist, pulling you closer as his lips remained firmly attached to yours, deepening the kiss with a slow, deliberate intensity that made your head spin.

His body pressed against yours, strong and warm, as if he were trying to merge your very beings into one. The world around you seemed to melt away, your senses consumed by the feel of him, the taste of him, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. Each moment felt suspended in time, the quiet intimacy of the moment holding you both captive.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his chest rising and falling in time with yours as the kiss grew more passionate, more desperate. His hand at your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, as though he needed to feel every part of you, to confirm that this wasn’t a dream.

Your own hands, trembling with the weight of the moment, slid up his arms, feeling the strength beneath his skin, the tension coiled in his muscles. You had never been this close before, never allowed yourself to imagine being this close to him. And now, here you were, pressed against him in a way that defied everything you had been told about your place in the world, everything you had believed about what you deserved.

His lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched the fire burning in your chest. It wasn’t just desire, there was something deeper, something raw and unspoken that neither of you had been able to express until now. Every kiss, every touch, was a release of all the feelings you had kept locked away for so long.

As his lips parted from yours for just a moment, his breath hot against your skin, Marcus whispered your name again—so soft, so reverent that it felt like a prayer. His forehead rested against yours, his eyes half-closed, his voice thick with emotion.

“I can’t…” he whispered, his hand still resting firmly at your waist, holding you close as though he couldn’t bear to let go. “I can’t stop this.”

Neither could you. You didn’t want to. You were lost in him, in the warmth of his touch, in the way he held you like you were the only thing that mattered. You could feel the conflict within him, the weight of his duties and the forbidden nature of what was blossoming between you, but none of that mattered in this moment.

His lips found yours again, this time slower, more tender, as though he were savoring every second, memorizing the feel of you in his arms. His hand slid up your back, pulling you even closer, as if he needed to feel the beat of your heart against his own. You melted into him, your own hands finding their way into his hair, threading through the dark strands as you kissed him with a longing you had kept buried for far too long.

No long after, his fingertips caressed your shoulders, slipping the strips of your dress down your arms. None of you stopped locking your gazes as you felt you dress slipping down your body. You were completely bare in front of the man who had made your heart race like never before.

You had never felt like this before, and the fire in the pit of your stomach was a new sensation for you. There was fire everywhere.

Marcus swept his eyes down your body, clearly reacting to the sight in front of him. The dim light of the moon danced across your skin. Marcus couldn’t believe it. You were the most beautiful woman he laid his eyes on, and under his stare he could swear God had made you just for him to find you, to find love in your eyes and in the way they looked at him now.

He placed his right hand on your neck, before trailing the path down to your neck, your breasts, your stomach as if you were the most delicate map he had ever touched in his life.

Goosebumps arise on your skin as you gasped under his touch. The way he unbraided your hair and swept it, looking at you with adoration. He wasted no time to devour your lips with his, stealing the moaning sounds out of your mouth, when his fingers slipped into your entrance. He worked his was in and out, your mouths attached, and his tongue caressed your swollen lips.

Your hands made their way to his back, his chest, his stomach. A groan came out of his throat when your fingers found his cock. Before you could even react, he carefully laid you on your back, his eyes bored into yours. Your lips were parted by the surprise of his sudden movement, and yet you looked beautiful under his stare, and you could feel beautiful too. It felt like a dream, to had found love in someone like him.

Marcus reached out and cupped your breasts. Your nipples hardened at the touch, and he duck down taking one in his mouth. You whispered his name making his cock throb at the sound of you pleading him, clearly enjoying the was your stomach trembled under his body. He then spread your legs to find the place where you needed him the most.

“Marcus” you whispered; voice weak “please.”

He grumbled and buried his entire face on your cunt. Your legs tightened in surprise, but he kept them open by draping one over his shoulder. He'd done this before, but with you, it seemed different. This time, he couldn't contain his thrill at the thought of making you pleased. He wanted you not only for this reason, but also because you cared for him and he for you, and he desired to prove thar by making love to you and waking up next to you for the rest of his life.

He continued sucking on your clit until you gasped for air. You felt hot under his tongue, and the flavor of you drove him crazy.

“You’re so beautiful mea columba” he whispered, pushing your thighs further apart and took his cock to press the head into your cunt, pushing it with pressure. You both moaned. He dropped his head to your shoulder, inhaling your exquisite scent.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, voice trembling at the thought. You were tight. He knew for the way your eyes looked that you never had done this before, so he tried to be as careful as he could.

“Marcus” you moaned, whimpering. He was all the way inside you. He felt embarred as how weak he seemed because of you. He tried not to come so fast, while glancing between you every second to make sure he wasn’t hurting you.

When he felt himself getting close, he tried to lift your back, holding onto your waist, his chest against yours, lips devouring each other.

“I’m in love with you, mea columba” he whispered, while pounding into you with a steady but delicate force it made you squirm.

your lips and bodies moving in perfect harmony, the rest of the world slipping away as you both gave in to the feelings you could no longer deny. The weight of the consequences lingered at the edges of your mind, but in that moment, nothing seemed as important as this. As him. As the way his hand cradled your waist, the way he kissed you like he had been waiting for this his entire life.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads still resting together. The silence that followed was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was filled with the quiet understanding that you had both crossed a line, and there was no turning back now.

Marcus’s eyes flickered open, his gaze locking with yours, the intensity of his emotions shining clearly in the dim light of the room. His thumb brushed lightly against your waist, a touch so gentle, yet filled with a quiet urgency that made your breath catch in your throat.

“I meant it,” he whispered, his voice low and rough with emotion. “I’m in love with you.”

His words hung in the air, thick and heavy with a truth neither of you could deny anymore. And then, without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips to your forehead, the kiss soft and lingering, filled with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

You felt a rush of warmth flood through your body, his confession sinking deep into your chest. You had heard it in his voice before, seen it in his eyes, but hearing those words—words you never thought someone of his stature would say to you—made everything feel real. His love was dangerous, forbidden, but it was also undeniable.

Tears burned at the edges of your eyes, not out of sorrow, but from the overwhelming emotions that surged through you—relief, joy, and the painful knowledge that this love, as real as it was, lived in the shadows.

“I…” your voice faltered, barely above a whisper. “I never thought I’d hear you say those words.”

His forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he closed his eyes, his hand tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer. “I’ve tried to fight it,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet anguish. “I’ve tried so hard to push it away, to tell myself it can’t be. But I can’t… I don’t want to fight it anymore.”

You felt the trembling in his voice, the vulnerability in his words, and it mirrored the storm of feelings inside you. You had spent so long burying your own emotions, convinced that someone like Marcus could never see you as more than a servant, more than someone beneath him. But here he was, his love laid bare, his heart in your hands.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and before you could speak, Marcus lifted his hand to your face, his thumb brushing the tear away with the same care he had shown you so many times before. His eyes were filled with something so raw, so real, that it made your chest ache.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words escaping you before you could stop them, but you didn’t want to stop them. They were the truth, and in this moment, you had no reason to hide.

Marcus closed his eyes again, his lips parting in a quiet, shaky breath, as though the sound of your confession had taken away the last of his restraint. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw with a tenderness that made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

“I’ll protect you,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet resolve. “Whatever happens, whatever comes next… I won’t let anything take you away from me.”

His words were a promise, one that felt as fragile as it was powerful. You both knew the risks, knew the world wouldn’t accept this love, but in his arms, in this stolen moment, you believed him. You believed that somehow, against all odds, you might be able to hold on to each other.

As the night deepened, the warmth of Marcus's arms around you became a cocoon of safety and comfort, unlike anything you had ever known. The intensity of your shared confessions, the raw emotions lingering between you, began to soften into a quieter, more intimate connection. His hands, once rough with battle, now caressed your skin with the gentleness of a man who had found something worth protecting, something precious.

You remained in his embrace, the two of you sitting on the edge of his bed, the flickering candlelight casting soft, golden shadows across his quarters. Marcus's thumb traced slow circles against your back, his touch reassuring and grounding, as though he was afraid that letting go would make this moment slip away into a dream. His forehead still rested gently against yours, his breathing steady but deep, as if he, too, was caught in the weight of everything you had just shared.

“I never imagined feeling like this,” you whispered, your voice barely breaking the silence of the room. You weren’t sure if you were confessing to him or simply speaking aloud the truth of what was in your heart. “I never thought I’d ever know this kind of closeness, this… love.”

His grip on you tightened slightly, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Neither did I,” he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity. “Not like this. Not with you.”

For a while, neither of you said anything. The quiet sounds of the night outside his window drifted in—a soft wind, the distant murmur of soldiers on watch, the occasional flicker of torchlight from the corridors. But none of it touched the stillness that enveloped the two of you in this space. Here, with Marcus, the world felt far away.

You felt the exhaustion from the day, from the intensity of everything, slowly creeping into your limbs. Your eyelids grew heavy, and despite the swirl of emotions still lingering in your chest, a deep weariness began to settle over you.

Marcus must have sensed it too, because his hand moved to your cheek, lifting your face gently so that your eyes met his. His expression softened, the hardness of the general gone, replaced by the tenderness of a man who cared deeply for you.

“You’re tired,” he said quietly, his voice filled with concern. “You should rest.”

You opened your mouth to protest, not wanting to leave his embrace, not wanting to lose the warmth of his presence. But he only smiled, his thumb brushing across your cheek in a soothing motion. “Stay here. With me.”

It was more than just an invitation. It was a promise, a reassurance that you didn’t have to return to the cold solitude of your small, servant's quarters. Tonight, you could stay here, beside him, and find some peace in his arms.

You breathed in the scent of him, your heart finding a slow, steady rhythm against his, and in the safety of his embrace, you finally let go.

Marcus’s hand continued to stroke your hair, even as sleep pulled you under. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your palm, strong and sure, and it lulled you into the sweetest, most peaceful sleep you had known in years.

And just before the darkness of sleep claimed you completely, you felt him press one last kiss to your temple, his lips soft and warm against your skin.

“Goodnight, my love,” he whispered.

And with that, you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, wrapped safely in his arms.

The days that followed were filled with an eerie calm, the quiet before the storm neither of you could ignore. You and Marcus fell into a rhythm of stolen moments—brushed hands when no one was looking, lingering glances that spoke more than words could ever say. In the dim light of dawn, in the safety of his quarters, your world shrank to just the two of you, the outside concerns held at bay for a little while longer.

But the world, especially one as ruthless as the Roman Empire, couldn’t be held back forever.

It began with hushed whispers from the servants, news of political maneuvering at the highest levels. You heard it first while fetching water from the well. Two women were gossiping, their voices low but clear enough for you to overhear.

“The Emperor’s orders,” one of them said, her tone almost gleeful. “General Acacius is to marry Lucilla, they say. It’s all but decided.”

Your stomach dropped, the bucket in your hand suddenly too heavy. You froze in place, the weight of those words sinking into you like a stone. Marcus is to marry. The Emperor’s will was absolute, and any personal desires, any feelings, would be swept away like dust in the wind.

You barely remember how you made it back to Marcus’s quarters, your mind a blur of emotions—dread, anger, helplessness. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing with the terrible reality you were trying to push away. By the time you arrived, your hands were trembling, your breath shallow as if the air itself had become too heavy to breathe.

When Marcus walked in later that evening, you could see it in his face before he even spoke. The weight of duty, the burden of decisions not his own, bore down on him like a heavy cloak. His eyes, once so full of warmth when they met yours, were shadowed with the knowledge of what was to come.

You tried to speak, to find the words to ask him if it was true, but they caught in your throat. Instead, you stood in silence, waiting for him to tell you.

“They’ve ordered it,” he said quietly, his voice strained. He didn’t meet your eyes as he spoke, as if doing so would make it all too real. “The Emperor has arranged a marriage.”

Your heart shattered at that moment, but you willed yourself not to show it. You had always known this was a possibility—he was a man of power and status, and the empire would always demand his obedience. Still, knowing didn’t soften the blow. You felt like the air had been knocked out of your chest.

Marcus took a step closer to you, his expression pained. “I didn’t want this,” he murmured. “I don’t want her.”

He reached for you, his hand hovering just above your arm as if unsure whether he still had the right to touch you. The distance between you felt insurmountable now, the shadow of his impending marriage looming over everything you had built together.

You pulled back, just enough to break the unspoken promise of his touch. “But you must,” you said, your voice trembling. “You have no choice.”

Marcus’s eyes finally met yours, and the anguish in them was more than you could bear. “I swore I would protect you, that I wouldn’t let anything take you from me.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to stay strong even as the tears threatened to fall. “And I swore I would stay by your side, no matter what,” you whispered. “But Marcus, this… this is the world we live in…I can’t stay here just to watch you being married to a woman who is not me.”

“I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice breaking. “I can’t pretend this marriage means anything to me. It’s politics, nothing more. You are what I want.”

You felt your resolve crumbling, the enormity of what you were facing pulling you under. “But once you’re married…” The words felt like poison on your tongue. “Once you’re bound to her…”

He shook his head fiercely, stepping closer again, this time not hesitating as he took your hands in his. His touch was warm, familiar, but it couldn’t erase the reality pressing down on both of you. “I won’t let her come between us. I won’t.”

Tears filled your eyes despite your best efforts to hold them back. You couldn’t stop the ache in your chest, the knowledge that your love would now have to exist in the shadows of Marcus’s new life—hidden, secret, and forbidden.

“What kind of life is that for us?” you asked, your voice breaking. “A love hidden away, always in the dark?”

Marcus’s jaw clenched, his eyes blazing with desperation. “We’ll find a way,” he insisted. “Even if the world says we can’t… we’ll find a way.”

You wanted to believe him, you wanted to hold on to the love that had grown between you, but the cold reality was seeping into every corner of your heart. This marriage wasn’t just an obstacle—it was a wall that you couldn’t break through.

You stepped away, pulling your hands free from his grasp. The distance between you felt like a chasm now, one that neither of you could cross. “I don’t know if love is enough,” you whispered, the weight of the world pressing down on your chest. “I won’t have my heart broken every day of my life just for you to see me from afar.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, each one a dagger piercing both your hearts. Marcus's face fell, the determination in his eyes flickering like a candle in the wind. He reached out once more, but hesitated, his hand hovering between you as if unsure whether he still had the right to touch you.

"Mea columba, please," he pleaded, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Don't say that. Don't give up on what we have."

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly brushed it away, straightening your spine to muster whatever strength you had left. "I'm not giving up," you replied softly. "But I can't live a life where I'm constantly in the shadows, hiding what I feel, watching you build a life with someone else."

He shook his head vehemently. "My marriage to Lucilla will be in name only. It means nothing compared to what I feel for you."

"But it changes everything," you insisted, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. "She will be your wife. She will stand beside you in public, share your home, perhaps even bear your children. Where does that leave me? Sneaking around in the dark, pretending I don't exist whenever others are near?"

Marcus's expression crumpled, pain etched into every line of his face. "I would never ask you to diminish yourself like that."

"But that's exactly what this would be," you said, stepping back further to put some distance between you. "I deserve more than to be a secret, Marcus. And deep down, you know that."

He opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. The silence stretched between you, filled only by the distant sounds of the bustling city beyond the walls—a world that seemed determined to keep you apart.

Finally, he spoke, his voice hoarse. "What are you saying?"

You took a shaky breath, gathering the courage to face the truth you'd been avoiding. "I'm saying that perhaps it's time for me to leave."

His eyes widened in alarm. "Leave? No, you can't. I won't allow it."

A bitter smile tugged at your lips. "You can't keep me here, not like this. Not when staying would mean watching you live a life, I can never be a part of."

Desperation flashed across his face. "I can speak to the Emperor. I can refuse the marriage. There must be a way—"

"And risk everything you've worked for? Your honor, your position?" You shook your head sadly. "You and I both know that's not possible. The Emperor's command is absolute. Defying him would only bring ruin upon you."

"I would risk it for you," he insisted, taking a bold step forward. "For us."

"And that's precisely why I can't let you do that," you replied gently. "I won't be the cause of your downfall.” You inhaled “Because you would end up despising me for it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "So, what then? We part ways? Pretend none of this ever happened?"

You felt your heart break a little more at the pain in his voice. "I don't want to forget," you said softly. "I will cherish every moment we've shared. But sometimes, love isn't enough to overcome the obstacles before us."

Marcus's shoulders sagged, defeat washing over him. "I can't accept that."

"Neither can I," you admitted, tears welling up once more. "But it's the only way we can both move forward without destroying each other."

He looked at you with a profound sadness, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. "Where will you go?"

You offered a small, sad smile. "I'll find somewhere. Perhaps another household, or maybe I'll find a way to make a life for myself beyond these walls."

A tense silence settled between you. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely audible. "When?"

You swallowed hard. "Soon. Before the marriage takes place."

He closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to steady himself against the inevitable. "At least allow me to ensure you're safe. Let me arrange for you to be placed somewhere you'll be treated well."

You considered refusing but knew it would ease his mind. "Alright," you agreed quietly. "Thank you."

Marcus stepped closer once more, and this time you didn't pull away as he reached out to cup your face gently in his hands. "I love you," he whispered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "That will never change."

A sob escaped your lips, and you placed your hand over his. "And I love you. More than you could ever know."

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, and for a moment, the two of you stood there, memorizing every detail of each other's faces—the warmth of your breaths mingling, the softness of his touch, the sorrow in his eyes.

"Promise me something," he said softly.

"Anything."

"Promise me you'll find happiness," he murmured. "That you'll live the life you deserve."

You nodded slowly. "I promise."

A single tear rolled down his cheek, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you as if it were the last time—as indeed it might be. You clung to him, wishing you could freeze time, keep this moment suspended forever.

After what felt like both an eternity and a mere heartbeat, you pulled away, knowing that if you didn't leave now, you might never find the strength again. "Goodbye, Marcus," you whispered.

He reached into the folds of his tunic and pulled out a small object—a simple silver pendant engraved with a laurel wreath. "Take this," he said, pressing it into your hand. "So you'll always have a part of me with you."

You looked down at the pendant, your vision blurred by tears. "I will treasure it always."

With a final, lingering glance, you turned and walked away, each step heavier than the last. As you left his chambers, the weight of your decision settled fully upon you, but beneath the pain, there was a quiet resolve. You were choosing your own path, difficult as it was.

Behind you, Marcus remained standing, watching you go until you disappeared from sight. The echo of your footsteps faded, leaving him alone with the emptiness of the room and the ache in his heart.

The days that followed were a blur. True to his word, Marcus arranged for you to be placed in the household of a kind widow on the outskirts of the city. The woman, Julia, welcomed you warmly, unaware of the depth of your connection to the general. To her, you were simply a skilled servant in need of a place, and she was grateful for the help.

Life in Julia's home was peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil of your emotions. Each day, you performed your duties diligently, but your thoughts often drifted back to Marcus—the sound of his voice, the warmth of his embrace, the intensity of his gaze as he declared his love for you.

News of his impending marriage reached you through whispers in the marketplace. The union was to be a grand affair, solidifying political alliances and elevating Marcus's standing even further. You tried to steel yourself against the pang of jealousy and sorrow that accompanied these rumors, reminding yourself that this was the path he was bound to follow.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson, you found yourself standing on a hill overlooking the city. The distant sounds of celebration drifted up to you—the marriage ceremony was taking place. Clutching the silver pendant around your neck, you closed your eyes and whispered a silent farewell.

"May you find happiness," you murmured into the evening breeze. "And may our paths cross again in another life."

As the first stars appeared in the sky, you took a deep breath and turned away from the city. There was a whole world beyond Rome's walls, and perhaps, in time, you would find your place in it—where you could heal and maybe even find joy once more.

Weeks passed, each one heavier than the last. You had settled into Julia’s villa , trying to find peace in the simplicity of your new life. But the ache in your heart remained, the thought of Marcus and his looming marriage never far from your mind. Each night, you clutched the silver pendant he had given you, hoping it might somehow tether your heart to his, even from a distance.

It had been months since you had last seen him, and you had resigned yourself to the reality that Marcus’s life had moved on, even if yours still felt frozen in time. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

One late afternoon, as you were tending to the garden outside Julia’s villa, you heard the distant sound of horses approaching. You looked up, wiping your hands on your apron, and saw a group of soldiers in familiar Roman armor riding up the path. Your heart skipped a beat. Could it be?

When they came to a stop, your breath caught in your throat. There, dismounting from his horse, was Marcus—his eyes searching frantically until they landed on you.

Your heart raced, and before you could even process what was happening, Marcus was striding toward you, his face a mix of determination and relief.

"Marcus?" you whispered, barely able to believe your eyes.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, as if he had been afraid you might vanish if he let go. His warmth surrounded you, and for the first time in months, you allowed yourself to hope again.

"I found you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I told you we'd find a way."

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, confusion clouding your thoughts. "But… your marriage? Lucilla?"

Marcus shook his head, his gaze locked with yours. "It's over. The Emperor himself annulled it."

Your breath caught in your throat. "What? How? Why?"

A faint smile touched his lips, though his eyes were serious. "Lucilla… she didn’t want this marriage any more than I did. She petitioned to me, and together we spoke to the emperor. She’s in love with someone else, someone who she could never marry while bound to me." He paused, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. "And the Emperor, surprisingly, agreed to release both of us."

You stared at him, stunned, unable to fully comprehend what he was saying. "So, you’re free?"

He nodded. "I’m free, mea columba. I can choose my own path now. And I’ve come to ask you to walk it with me."

Tears welled in your eyes, but this time, they were tears of joy. "Marcus, I…" you stammered, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotions. "Is this real? Are you really here?"

He smiled then, the first genuine smile you’d seen from him in so long. "Yes, it's real. I love you. I don’t care what anyone else says or thinks. I want you by my side, not in the shadows. I want you to be with me—openly, proudly."

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Everything you had feared, all the obstacles that had once seemed insurmountable, had fallen away. And standing before you was the man you loved, offering you the life you had once thought was impossible.

You smiled through your tears, your heart bursting with happiness. "I love you, Marcus," you whispered. "And yes, I’ll walk that path with you. Wherever it leads."

With that, he leaned in and kissed you, a kiss full of promise and hope, sealing the future you would share. At that moment, everything felt right. The shadows of the past no longer held power over you, and the weight of uncertainty had lifted from your shoulders.

Marcus took your hand when he finally pulled away, lacing his fingers through yours. "Come," he said softly. "Let’s go. There’s a whole world waiting for us."

A few months later...

The soft morning light filtered through the open window of the villa, casting a golden glow over the room as you slowly stirred awake. The cool breeze carried the scent of wildflowers from the hills, filling the air with the promise of a new day. You lay in bed, nestled in Marcus's strong arms, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

For months now, you had known peace, a life far removed from the chaos and expectations of the Roman court. Marcus had retired from the military, choosing a quiet life with you in the countryside. The villa had become your sanctuary, a place where you could live freely, without the burden of secrecy or fear. No more hiding in the shadows—your love had found the light.

Gently, you shifted in Marcus’s embrace, your hand resting over your growing belly. A small, soft smile spread across your face as you felt the faint flutter of movement inside you. Marcus stirred beside you, his arms tightening around you instinctively, as though even in sleep, he wanted to protect you.

You gazed down at your hand, marveling at the life that grew within you—a symbol of the love you and Marcus had fought so hard to protect. This child, your child, was the future you had once feared might never come.

Marcus’s eyes slowly opened, and he smiled sleepily as his gaze met yours. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice deep and warm.

"Good morning," you whispered back, your hand still resting on your belly. His eyes followed the movement, and his expression softened as he reached out to place his hand gently over yours.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness.

"I'm well," you replied, your smile widening. "The baby’s been very active this morning."

Marcus’s face lit up, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “And he will know freedom.”

His gaze lingered on you, filled with a deep, unwavering love. "I still can’t believe this is real," he said quietly, his thumb gently brushing your hand. "After everything, we’re here—together—and soon, we’ll have a family."

You felt tears prick your eyes, not of sorrow this time, but of pure happiness. "It’s everything I never thought I could have," you admitted softly. "But now, I can’t imagine life any other way."

Marcus leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss, one that spoke of all the joy and gratitude you both felt. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, as if savoring the moment.

"I love you, Mea columba" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "More than words can say."

"And I love you," you replied, your heart swelling with happiness. "For always."

Together, you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of your journey behind you and the promise of a bright future ahead. The child you carried was a testament to your love, a symbol of the life you had built together despite all the odds.

Outside, the world continued to turn, but here, in this quiet, peaceful place, you had everything you had ever dreamed of, Marcus, your love, and the family you would soon welcome into the world.

The future stretched out before you, filled with light, joy, and hope. And as the first rays of sunlight touched the horizon, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Marcus would face them together, stronger than ever, bound by a love that had defied the impossible.

Your love had triumphed. And now, the greatest adventure of all was about to begin, the creation of a family, born out of that love.

#marcus acacias x reader #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius x f!reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x reader #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius fic #marcus acacius #gladiator 2 fic #gladiator 2 #gladiator 2 fanfiction #pedro pascal #marcus acacius smut #general acacius x you #general acacius

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lalunanymph · 9 months ago

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caged little birdie (m) — naoya

being naoya's wife comes with a rigid set of rules you can never escape from: always three steps behind him, never look him in the eye when he's talking to you, and the worst one of all—your pleasure kept under his lock and key

warnings: DARK CONTENT, misogyny, chastity belt, forced chastity, naoya is a sexy walking red flag, tease and denial, dubcon, [o]rgasm control, 🐱 inspection, the zen'in's archaic marriage views, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex, ruined [o]rgasms, breeding, naoya deserves a punch tbh

"Is it too tight, wife?"

His odious voice purred in your ear, drawing shivers of distaste rippling down your spine.

Slim fingers tugged on the belt around your hips teasingly, driving the metal ridge to grind on your aching clit. A hitched exhale escaped past your clenched teeth, and behind you, his predatory grin grew wider.

"Or, shall I tighten it even more?"

You refused to answer him, keeping your eyes steadfastly hedged onto a spot beyond his shoulder.

"Wife?" Naoya taunted, his broad chest puffing with latent power and disapproval for your little protest. "I am speaking to you."

Your abject misfortune was to be blamed when your life was exchanged for your hand in marriage to Naoya Zen'in.

As one of the oldest clans in the jujutsu world, your family had grown power hungry; drunk on the idea of land, wealth and luck when they sold off their only daughter to Naobito's heir.

Those archaic bastards' code of conduct was simple: women were meant to be seen and not heard. Bred and not respected. Controlled and watched.

Your father had even suggested to blacken your teeth, but fortunately for you (the only sliver of fortune you could think about), the young master Zen'in was not a fan of such a dated practice.

Instead, his choice of control was far more insidious than your most perverted thoughts could conjure.

Jinichi's wife—Imora—was the first one who had introduced you to the thin, metallic belt every Zen'in men gave their wives.

She wore hers with pride and a tinge of red in the apples of her cheeks.

It helps keep me focus on master Jinichi, she mused, smoothing down her kimono skirt. Anything that keeps my thoughts from pleasing him is not something I would want to entertain.

Horror inscribed your features, but with your previous world gone up in flames, this was your reality now—there was nothing you could do to fight back against this unwilling chapter in your life.

This was the burden you had to carry to make sure your family name was well-preserved. Even at the expense of your dignity and sanity.

"Wife—"

Growing ill with his grating voice, you nodded. "It fits perfectly, husband."

The poisonous note in your voice didn't serve to dissuade him. In fact, it got him harder—looking for more ways to tease and rile you up.

"You know, my brother told me ever since he belted his wife, she's been all over him like a bitch in heat," he drawled, skittering his fingers over your bare waist. You flexed your fingers, fighting to keep them from closing into fists. Patiently waiting for this torture to be over.

The heat of his broad chest nearly turned you dizzy, the expanse of skin pressing to the softness of your own bare back. It was still early in the morning and Naoya had not yet changed into his standard dark blue kimono and white shirt—just in his hakama pants and arrogant disposition.

"I wonder," his lips were now at the juncture of your neck, puffs of hot breath drawing gooseflesh down your spine. "How this pretty little caged birdie will react if I did this?"

Before you could ask him what he was planning to do, you heard the belt unlock.

The coolness of the room air was second to your syrupy gasp—frightening you with how freeing and open you felt now that there wasn't a ridge of metal in between your legs.

Clanging to the floor, Naoya barely paid attention to the noise the chastity belt made—eager to part your folds and drink in the sight of your swollen clit.

"How long has it been, wife?"

The warm press of his palm cradled your womb. "Since you last came," he added, after sensing your stunned silence.

"Two weeks ago" you mumbled, hiding your face behind your hair. Doing everything you could to not be noticed by him. "Before we got married," you added as an afterthought.

"Hmm."

His chest vibrated with the force of his stuffy hum, and you flinched when he grazed two fingers across your mound.

Taking what was his without any regard for your comfort, Naoya spread your folds apart, using the tip of his ring finger to gently prod and tap on your clit.

The ache that simple touch set off in your body was unnerving—more so compared to the whimper you expelled when he started to circle and rub the swollen nub.

Pleasure, searing hot and bursting at the seams, exploded across your body like a lightning strike. Every inch of your skin felt like you were on fire; how sensitive and receptive you were to his touches nearly drove you to your knees to dissolve in reckless sobs.

You unwittingly clamped one hand around his wrist, not to push him away or encourage him, but to anchor around the dizzying curlicues he set off in your cotton-headed thoughts.

"Fuck," Naoya's curse brushed the hypersensitive skin of your shoulder with blatant arousal. "You're dripping for me."

Casting one look to in between your trembling thighs, you nearly cried out at the sight of your traitorous pussy leaving strings of slick and rings of cream around his long fingers.

Fuck, fuck. Cursing your body's blatant betrayal, you tried to gain control of the situation again, forcing your scattered thoughts to focus on loathing the man behind you.

But, it was all wasted effort.

One could never bite the hand that fed them, and you weren't able to hate Naoya, not when he was bringing you blistering pleasure just from his fingers alone.

Your saccharine cry of pleasure bounced across the room, no doubt filtering past the thin shoji doors where the poor servants could overhear.

Naoya was quick to clamp his free hand around your mouth; other hand busy taking his time to build up your climax with those infuriating digits.

He patted the thin hair coating your pubes, pulled your hood back lightly to tap tap tap his index on your engorged clit. All the while he sucked sloppy kisses on your neck, lost in the scent of vanilla drifting from your skin and hair.

Your eyes were rolling into the back of your skull, the whites glimmering in the weak morning rays. Naoya felt a bloom of heat crest past his masculine urge to decimate your self-control, fully rearing up to claim you.

But, he was pushing it too soon.

He had to make sure to be the one in control; the one steering this marriage.

With a heavy heart and even heavier balls, he popped his fingers out of your heat, wiping the slick off on your thigh.

You had slumped back against his chest, and a tiny spark of satisfaction ignited right in his core from your little lapse of stoicism. It seemed you needed him as much as he did, in this instance.

Through the fog of your mind, you felt the metal biting into your skin; heard the tiny click as Naoya locked you back again.

There was nothing that could prepare you for how much you ached after that; every part of you was throbbing—the spot in between your legs, your thrumming pulse. You were nothing more than sensation, wrecked apart by your husband's simple touch.

Devastated eyes charted the path of your chastity belt's key disappearing into his pocket, and Naoya grunted.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the same time for the same inspection, wife."

Your heart sank. How long could you take this torture?

Glancing down at the thin strip of metal allowing just the tip of your clit to peek through, you had to fight back a sob.

It seems like there was no answer to your startling predicament.

Naoya had not expected you to corner him right after dinner.

Your heated cheeks and twisting fingers spoke volumes of your anxiety, and he let you stew in those thoughts, completely charmed by how you were struggling to string together a coherent sentence.

"Imora..." you trailed off, unable to look him in the eye. "Imora-chan told me that she suspects she's pregnant. Master Jinichi—your brother—did the same thing y-you're doing. To me. And I... I want to be like her."

Naoya's heart twisted right in his chest. His disbelief was tamed down by a cruel sneer, attempting to free past his spiked excitement.

"I do not understand what you mean, wife."

The area you both were in was fairly filled with people, and he sensed every ear of the estate on his conversation with his lovely wife.

After all, the servants needed to report back to the clan elders on his progress in giving them an heir, and what better way to get the news than from the horse's mouth instead?

You casted a furtive glance around, and gestured for him to follow you.

Rule #1: Always stay three steps behind your husband.

You casually broke it in exchange for piquing his curiosity.

Naoya decided it was best to follow you, and trailed right behind, his sourness at being swept by no match for the smug excitement churning in his gut.

You led him straight to the sake cellars, right underneath the heart of the estate. The well-ventilated room was often checked by the maids, but now with a huge dinner winding down, the servants were all above ground pandering to his family's every need.

He was effectively alone right here with you.

In answer to his earlier inquiry, you stepped forward, undoing the loop of your obi. Naoya observed, expression barely rippling, when you disrobed right in front of him.

His eyes were immediately drawn to how swollen your clit looked trapped in between the metal teeth of the belt. It was accompanied by your pained expression, that one single longing look you shot him going straight to his cock.

"I want to..." you uttered in a hoarse voice, shame brimming in your lower lash line.

Naoya hated how much he enjoyed this—the blip of your demeanour as a cold, calculating Princess giving way to the whore right underneath.

Going exactly as the Zen'in rule had planned.

"Please take off this belt and... and fuck me until I'm pregnant, Naoya-sama."

In a flash, you were pressed right to the cold, brick wall. His jammed the key into the lock, twisting it, and the belt fell right onto the dusty ground, stirring up dust on both your getas.

Naoya's cock was a welcome respite in your neglected heat, your walls fitting around him like a glove; mushroom tip driving straight into your golden spot.

He fucked you like you were a cheap concubine and not his wife—snapping his hips up into your slick pussy with dense force; slipping a hand in between both your bodies to spank and rub your pussy.

The tightening in his abdomen was second to the clenching of your sweet cunt right on his cock; choking him out.

Naoya's lips crashed right onto yours, tongue pinning yours down. Swallowing up every sweet cry you were giving him and branding them with his own course moans of dizzying pleasure.

He didn't stop to check on you, white hot ribbons filling you up and spilling down onto the ground—some of it spattering onto your belt.

Your cry of dismay, of a disappointed Naoya-sama! melted into disbelief when he placed you back onto the ground.

Silly girl, he mused, a smile etched on his lips. He slipped the belt back on while you were recovering from the force of your ruined orgasm, large palm sweeping down your trembling belly and hips with more warmth than he wished to give you.

"Ssh," he consoled you, leaving small pecks on your thighs while he clicked the lock back in place, controlling your pleasure in his grasp once more.

Tears marred your cheeks, and you couldn't help a bitter, shuddering sob.

Naoya felt the slightest stirring of pity for you—his kisses soft yet unapologetic on the nape of your neck.

"You should've known." Was it you, or was his voice tainted with regret? "You should've known what my family does, sweetheart. Why we have so many heirs. It's part of your expectation to fulfil."

You surprised him by having enough of your wits to be able to ask a single question: "Does this mean I am to never experience pleasure from my own husband again?"

Naoya looked you up and down; taking in your flushed cheeks, tight nipples and twitching hips.

"Not exactly," he was honest with you for the first time in this marriage. "When you become pregnant with my child, then I will reward you. But, for now—"

He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you right into his arms to tilt your sweet and honest face up to meet his own cunning smirk.

"For now, you have no choice, darling."

punches him with my lips i hate this sexy misogynistic bastard

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

#naoya x reader #naoya smut #naoya zenin #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #this was supposed to be a THIRST OH MY GOD #🦢 writes

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tiny-space-platypus · 4 months ago

Text

Never really fit back in

Part 2 Daniel or Danyal or Danny?

Danyal took a deep breath. There was only one person who could bring him to his brother. One person who could get him into the Wayne household. Vlad Masters, his godfather, though things were getting better with Vlad it was still awkward. He doubted he'd ever fully trust him but he was the only adult around who knew what he was and at least for right now wasn't trying to kill him for it. Plus he had access to the Wayne Galas and as his heir Danny did too.

"Daniel" Vlad smiled at him and offered him a seat at his table. "I was quite surprised when you asked to have a meeting with me" Danyal took a seat as dinner was served to them. He hesitated before speaking. Danny had been trying to prepare what to say to Vlad all day but now he was here, his mind went blank.

"I-" He paused as he pursed his lips before stealing his nerves once again. "I'd like to take up your offer of being your heir." Vlad stopped moving for a second as his smile faltered. he stared at Daniel. The silence was deafening. Danyal continued or well rambled after an uncomfortably long few minutes of silence. "The Fenton household hasn't felt safe in.. Well it's never been safe but ever since my accident it's just gotten worse. The house is always attacking me, even though my parents- Even though Maddie and Jack know I'm Phantom now that hasn't stopped them- actually I think they've just been ignoring me. And-"

"Daniel,"

"Since Jazz left for college, I've only really had Sam and Tucker but-"

"Daniel"

"They're now busy preparing for their own futures and all that-"

"Daniel!" Vlad spoke a little louder silencing Danny again then sighed. "I will gladly take you in, Daniel. It's the least I can do for you" Danyal relaxed a bit, though not too much. Vlad might be better now but he's still a power hungry fruitloop. Danny still had to be careful but at least Vlad's manor wasn't actively trying to destroy him. At least Vlad acknowledged his existence. And so Danny's new life began.

A few new changes happened after he started to live with Vlad. One he changed his legal name to Danyal (it just felt more real), he and Vlad still argue over changing his last name over to Masters but Danny's not ready for that. Danny had to start taking etiquette classes from both Dorothy and Vlad, Vlad had gotten him plenty of suits and other more comfortable clothes, and Danny had full access to his lab. Though Danny didn't go down there often, it gave him the creeps in a bad way. Most labs did at this point. Instead he had taken over a large room and had a work desk where he tinkered on what ever her felt like tinkering on, or schoolwork, or the loads of paper work he had to do for the Infinite Realms. It was kind of nice having Vlad help with that though at least someone could explain what half of it meant and wasn't as secretive as Clockwork.

Four months passed and things were going great actually. Things were finally starting to feel alright again, maybe this was the best decision. Eventually Danny did tell Vlad about being Damian's brother only because he would have to confront Damian at the Wayne Christmas gala.

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

Damian just like his other siblings dreaded the galas but they were important. It was important to keep building relationships with the public and the rich. It was important to keep a mask on and play the very rich found family of Brucie Wayne. It was important to keep their night life out of the picture.

Damian got ready with his siblings as usual. He listened and complained with them about the Gala as Jason laughed and praised being "dead". At least being the youngest meant he wasn't as bothered by the guests as the rest of his siblings were. All he had to do was introduce himself to the guests, have his picture taken a thousand times and lurk around the party. A boring night that would be much better spent on patrol. Though he was just has confident that the others could Patrol Gotham without them as his father.

The gala was about normal, he greeted guests with his father as Tim went out to do some networking. Dick playing as his usual self, Cass lurking around, Steph tormenting people by being her eccentric self, and Duke wandering around and making small talk. The night was normal till Masters arrived.

By that point Damian had broken off from his father and went to see and spend time with his siblings. Though something felt off after about a half hour. Damian went to report this to his father only to find him still speaking with Masters who had a boy with him. He paid no mind to him. "Father there's-" Damian paused then looked at the boy standing next to Masters who was smiling at him.

Danyal. That was Danyal. That was Danyal. That was Danyal.

Damian just stared at Danny with a look of horror that his father caught quickly. Before Bruce could pull Damian away he heard his brother speak.

"Hello, Damian. It's nice to see you again"

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

Bruce had never seen his son like that before. He had never seen that look on his son's face before. Something had to be wrong he just didn't know what yet. Bruce excused both himself and Damian from the Masters and brought Damian over to the others. He looked at his son who looked both terrified and shell shocked. Bruce spoke softly.

"Damian, are you alright chum?"

Damian started to hyperventilate and mumble in Arabic. Damian normally spoke in Arabic when upset but this was very clearly different. Bruce brought Damian to his room, not because he was in trouble but because he was freaking out and needed some quiet. That night for the first time Damian openly cried in front of Bruce. That night for the first time Damian held onto Bruce like his life depended on it and sobbed. That night for the first time Damian sobbed into his father.

Bruce didn't know what the Masters did to his son but they won't get away with it. That he swore. He'll have Tim and Barbara look into them later for now his son needs him.

#dc x dp #danny phantom #dcu #bruce wayne #damian wayne #demon twins au #vlad plasmius #redeemed-ish Vlad #he is still doing this to have a little more power in the realms but rn he's more helpful than not so whatever #good dad bruce wayne #protective dad Bruce Wayne #trying to portray Danny struggling with who he is by constantly switching up his name. hopefully that made sense or could be picked up on?#danny gave Damian a panic attack:)#danny probably also will have a panic attack after realizing he gae his brother a panic attack :)))#Never Really Fit Back In

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violetflowerswrites · 4 months ago

Text

Sweet Relief

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: servant/master, possession, religious-ish themes, dom/sub, sex pollen, cockwarming, oral (female receiving), pain/discipline, fingering, p in v sex, language, 18+

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I’m rewatching the Marvel movies in order and my god. I forgot how absolutely diabolical and adorable young Loki is! I was inspired to make this VERY smutty, all-porn-no-plot fic. Takes place before the events of Thor 1. Hope you enjoy my first Loki fic!

Tags: @foxherder @lovingchoices14

The long linen fabric of your healer’s tunic brushed against the cold marble floor as you rushed past. Your steps were gentle and quick, trying to make next to no sound as you swept past the tall columns, and arched ceilings of the royal halls. Finally outside the gilded wood of the giant doors to his bed chambers, your breath seemed to stall in your lungs.

This simply was not done. You were approached, never doing the approaching yourself. Improper didn’t even begin to describe what you were doing.

Your gentle knock was virtually silent the first time, so you steeled yourself and tried again.

“Identify yourself.”

A lazy voice called from within, but his tone was laced with an undeniable authority.

You spoke your name, placed your title in front of it.

Healer.

You weren’t a lady, a warrior—hell, you weren’t even nobility.

You belonged to a class of healers in Asgardian society. Seen as a type of servant, but respected nonetheless. To serve in the court meant you had a sizable talent for basic magic, and for spiritual healing.

But, if you were a woman in this position, it also meant you were a glorified prostitute.

You and your healer sisters before you have served in the healing room for centuries, servicing warriors, tending to their injuries after battle. But Asgard has long been in a season of peace, so the healers needed to fill another role.

Asgard was now a land of paradise, a land of plenty. That is, plenty of food, drink, beauty, wealth, and of course, plenty of sex. The nobility needed a way to make this discreet. After all, the royal court could hardly be seen having frivolous dalliances with just anyone. They needed to marry for alliance, for power, and for proper bloodlines, of course.

That’s where the healers came in. Come to the healing room for a sleeping draught, or an ointment for a sore shoulder, and get a service on top of it. You and your sisters were carefully trained in the ways of pleasure, and secrecy.

But, here you were, in front of your Lord’s chambers, breaking every rule and propriety ingrained in you since you first worked in the court as a young girl.

“Enter.” He commanded.

With shaky hands, you pushed the heavy bedroom doors open with your slender muscles.

The sight was grand, and a bit unexpected. Thick, dark green drapes covered the walls from ceiling to floor, and deep cherry wood bookshelves lined an entire side of the bedroom. A fireplace and candles were lit, making the chambers seem warm, yet a tinge ominous. A sharp contrast to the golden pearly halls of the rest of Asgard’s royal chambers.

Loki sat at a massive wooden desk, cleaved from the center of an oak tree, and absolutely littered with a number of bottles and vials, books and scrolls. A lone curtain was left half open, letting in what little light was left of the setting summer sun.

He addressed you disinterestedly, not even bothering to lift his head up from his book.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Healer?” Loki called out quietly across the vast room.

Your back was pressed up against the door, unable to get your feet to move. Your body disobeyed what your mind wanted, forgetting to curtsey or even duck your head. Instead, your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Loki took a beat in your silence and chuckled lowly to himself.

“I must say, this is quite unexpected, and against the rules I might add.”

Amusement glittered in his eyes at the mention of breaking the rules.

After all, he was the God of Mischief. Breaking the rules was his bread and butter.

Loki finally gazed up and took you in more carefully, wondering why a healer such as yourself would dare incur the wrath of your order by entering a nobleman’s chambers without permission, let alone the prince of Asgard.

Second prince of Asgard, but a prince nonetheless.

Then he noticed you, really noticed you.

He took in your flushed face, the way you absentmindedly kept rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you hugged yourself, and your thighs pressing your legs together to seek any sort of relief you could.

Even from across the room, Loki’s god-eyes could see the steady thrumming of the vein on your neck, moving rapidly with your heartbeat. He wanted to taste your skin and feel your pulse under his hot tongue.

Loki was a keen observer. Knowing how to read body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice was more important than any magical mischief he could get up to. Reading people was enough to get him most things that he wanted in life.

And right now, he decided he wanted you.

“You may approach, Healer.”

As if the spell had been broken, you swallowed to wet your dry throat and stepped towards the prince.

“How did you get past the guards?” Loki questioned.

“I said you needed a sleeping draught. You’ve been having trouble falling asleep for the past few days.” Your voice came out squeaky and feeble, a far cry from your usual tone.

Loki pursed his lips. This was not untrue.

“Leave it here.” He gestured casually to the desk and went back to his reading, while keeping half an eye on you.

Your trembling hands set down the small bottle of liquid with a bit of a clatter, and you quickly stepped back, just a few feet from where Loki sat.

“There’s something else.” Loki murmured lowly, eyes still flicking over the pages.

“Yes.” You breathed out.

Before you could begin to state your wild request, Loki said something else that you didn’t expect.

“I know you.”

You flitted your eyes up at his handsome face, and was startled by his piercing blue gaze. Quickly, you looked down at your feet.

The younger prince of Asgard had long since caught your eye. Every time he returned from battle you snatched the opportunity to treat him.

Rumor had it that he rarely asked for a healer's services, even when he was at the peak of adolescence. Some said he had a taste for the other sex. Others said he found his pleasure off-planet.

Whereas Thor openly indulged in excess, including women, drink, and violence, Loki was careful, calculated, and purposeful in all his actions. His mysterious, unreadable nature only served to make him more attractive to you.

“Yes, m’Lord. I have treated your injuries before, alongside other sisters.”

“You sang to me.”

You gasped, shocked that he remembered. It was a particularly gruesome battle and Loki was crushed badly in the side. You and your sisters forced him into a spell-induced sleep so that you could bind his broken bones. The Queen was distraught and ordered a round-the-clock watch to ensure he was healing well. You ended up on night watch, singing lullabies when he fought demons in his sleep.

“I did not know you heard me, m’ Lord.” You whispered, the heat inside of you coming out in waves off your hot skin.

“Speak freely. What is it that you request of me?” Loki schooled his tone to sound detached, but you could hear the curiosity in his words.

Sucking in a breath, you relayed a stuttered story of how a nobleman asked the healers to create a love potion that would increase ones libido, but it would only work against someone they were attracted to. Eventually, they would be like a dog in heat, and could only be relieved by intense pleasuring from a potential lover.

And you were the unlucky soul who got “volunteered” to take the experimental potion on a test run.

Although they tried their utmost, your sisters were unable to bring you relief and now, a few hours later, you sought after your long-time crush, Loki.

Hoping he’d do something to help relieve you of your suffering.

Although what, you didn’t dare dream of.

Ashamed, you bowed your head, looking at the marble floor and wishing a hole would open up and sink you into the dark waters below your realm.

At best, he’d let you go back to the healing room and never speak of this again. At worst, he’d have you arrested and banished for attempting such a lecherous act against a prince of Asgard.

“Sit.”

Your head jerked up, and you stared. Loki wasn’t looking at you though, he was back to his book, but his palm patted his muscular thigh.

Gods, was he asking you to sit in his lap?

You slowly brought a leg over his until your core straddled his hips. His cool body temperature immediately soothed your hot one, and you carefully brought your arms to clasp behind his neck.

Moving quickly before he changed his mind, you immediately put your training to use.

“Would my Lord like a massage?” You offered quietly.

“Yes, darling, that would be lovely.” Loki agreed nonchalantly, again, eyes still glued to his book.

Your strong fingers squeezed the tight knots on Loki’s shoulders, feeling the firm, yet lean muscles there. You pulled up his flesh, pressing deeply until the tension melted away in your hands.

Moving upwards, you combed your fingers through his jet-black hair, massaging his scalp, and temples.

The man gave no signs at all that he was affected by your touch, or by having an attractive young woman in his lap.

But then, he turned, exposing a pale neck underneath the raised leather collar of his garments. You took that as an invitation to press your lips to his smooth skin. Loki could feel your warm breath exhale in a contented sigh as your thumbs continued to knead circles, followed by soft kisses all over his neck, up his jaw, behind his ear.

Even with your face pressed to his, you almost missed what he whispered next.

“Warm my cock for me, dearest.”

An uncontrollable whimper escaped from your lips at his dirty words.

To be fully honest, you didn’t know how far Loki was going to let you take this. And the answer seemed to be…

All the way.

You pulled off your undergarments and undid the buttons of his leather trousers. His member was already half-erect, but it came to life fully as you gently rubbed him in both of your warm hands.

Your head fell onto his shoulder, and you could feel the breath catch in his chest as his cock breached your tight entrance.

Your eyes squeezed shut immediately at the contact, having not loosened your sensitive core beforehand, and Loki was large. His member wasn’t the thickest you’ve ever had, but it was slender, and long.

Slowly, carefully, you sank down, half-way at first, taking a pause to adjust, then further in until your ass rested on his lap once again.

The tip of his cock pushed up against your cervix, and you’ve never felt more full in your life.

Relaxing, you pressed your chest to his, leaning in as your core wrapped its hot, moist flesh around him. Loki for his part, was completely silent, reaching his arms behind your back to continue flipping through his book.

“What are you reading?” You murmur, content to just be filled for the time being. The initial stage of insatiable desire had been temporarily slaked by simply having his length inside of you.

“A spell-book on illusion magic. Could be useful for battle, or tricking my brother.” A soft chuckle rumbled through his body, the vibrations stimulating your center immediately.

You moaned, losing yourself in pleasure, but Loki shushed you gently.

“Be a good girl and sit quietly. I want to finish this section.”

So you did. After having spent the past few hours in heat, having any kind of relief now was enough to lull you into a daze. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, the crinkle of pages of Loki’s book, and your quiet breath.

Every so often, he would shift his weight and it would push his cock in a different part of your core. You bit your lip each time to keep from making any noise, but the wetness that leaked from your pussy betrayed your arousal. You were sure that Loki’s thighs would be soaked by the time he finished reading.

Abruptly, Loki snapped his book shut with a bang. You flinched automatically at the loud sound.

“That’s enough, my dear.” He stated with finality.

You gingerly pulled yourself off, his still-hard member slipping out of your core, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. Legs wobbly from sitting straddled wide for so long, you tried your best to look put together, smoothing down your tunic, and taking a tentative step back.

“My Lord, thank you for—“ you attempted a statement of propriety, assuming that you were being dismissed.

Wordlessly, Loki grabbed you roughly by the neck and hauled you forward, an arm pulling your hips against his as he crushed you with a kiss.

Your body melted into his immediately, overwhelmed by the pressure of his lips against yours, his tongue forcing his way into your mouth, and —gods was that teeth?—nipping at your lower lip. You had no idea that a kiss could be so utterly demanding and violent.

Loki wasn’t just kissing you.

He was devouring you.

“It’s time for some discipline, healer. Do you know what a bad girl you’ve been tonight?” Loki growled against your neck, biting you not quite so gently there.

“No, tell me m’ Lord.” The response breathed out through bruised lips. Your pupils were blown out with lust and so were his.

“No? Then, I’ll help you count each disobedience.”

With that, Loki pulled your tunic and shift off, leaving you completely exposed before him.

“Exquisite,” he murmured, while licking his lips.

Roughly, he wrenched your arm and pulled you towards his generous bed, throwing you down the middle of the lush mattress.

Before you had a chance to sit up, he flipped you onto your stomach and smacked a hard slap to your ass.

“Fuck!” The expletive exploded out of you at the sharp sting.

“Number one: deceiving the guards.”

Another slap hit your other ass cheek.

“Number two: sneaking into the royal chambers.”

His hand met your bottom again.

“Number three: sneaking into my bedroom, a prince of Asgard no less.”

Another hit. The skin of your ass was already inflamed pink with the first few smacks.

Loki watched the color bloom before slowly raking his icy-blue eyes across your body. A sheen of sweat had broken out along your back and your face was buried in the sheets.

Loki’s never hurt a girl in the bedroom before, but seeing the redness of your ass, and feeling the tingling remnants of each slap on his own hand. Well, that awoke something sinister in his heart, and his loins.

“Number four: you were a fool to take the love potion. You are supposed to be a healer, not a witch.”

This next blow from Loki was even stronger than the last. The contact with your tender skin echoed off the high ceiling of his bedroom.

“Hells—Loki you are going to leave a mark!” The pain had you gritting your teeth, and temporarily forgetting your manners.

Hearing his name roll off your tongue made him laugh with delight. Who knew he would have so much fun punishing a troublesome little girl like you?

He leaned forward, pressing his erection into the swell of your ass, and spoke lowly into your ear.

“My darling, when I’m done with you, your body will be marked permanently.”

The threat made you shut your mouth and turn your burning face away from his, speechless.

“Number five: you were a fool to seek out me for relief.”

The final hit was the most painful. Loki lifted both of his hands and brought them down with so much force that you let out a scream of shock, pain, and pleasure all at once.

He immediately squeezed your pliant flesh in his palms, massaging the slap-warmed skin there.

After a moment of silence, he released his touch altogether and sat back on the bed, watching you.

Cautiously, you crawled up on your hands and knees and sat up, using your arms to hold up your weight rather than sitting on your tender bottom.

He studied your face in quiet contemplation as he watched a mixture of emotions course through you.

Pain, of course.

A bit of fear.

Apprehension, understandably.

But as you drew in shaky breaths, staring back at him, he saw what he was hoping for.

Attraction. Lust. Arousal. Greed.

Even after all of that, you still wanted him. Hells, even without the potion coursing through your veins you would have still wanted to fuck him.

The dominant, torturous streak was a surprise, but you never knew what Loki was capable of, to begin with.

Everything was a surprise with him.

And yet, you craved so much more.

Suddenly gentle, Loki guided you backwards until your head hit his soft pillows.

He settled in between your legs, prying them apart until his face was inches away from your puffy inner lips.

“How did that feel, my dear?” He pressed kisses against your inner thighs, loving how smooth and soft your skin was.

“It hurt.” You ground out, indignance lacing your tone, trying not to show how anything Loki did to you felt good.

Better than good. He was better than any nobleman you’ve ever had to service before. Sex with them was vanilla, predictable. Loki was anything but.

“Ah, but you liked it. Didn’t you, sweet girl?” He paused and looked up at you with those baby blues.

Underneath his steady gaze, you knew there was no point in lying. Loki could see through you in a heartbeat.

“Yes. It felt good.” You confessed.

Tutting with that silver tongue of his, endearments and praise continued to pour out of that sly mouth.

And kisses. Hot, wet, soft kisses to every part of your inner thighs, your mound, your puffy pussy lips.

“You naughty girl. Entering my chambers, asking me to give you relief.”

He pressed his lips to you.

“Sitting on my cock, letting me fill up that tight cunt of yours.”

A regal nose brushed against your slit, dragging wetness up your core.

“Enjoying pain with your pleasure. Letting me ravage your body. You’re a temptress, my sweet.”

A deep inhale. Gods, Loki was breathing in your sex right in front of you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your nails digging into your palms.

“Did you know, darling, that I could smell you the second you entered my chambers?” He exhaled, warm air tickling the moisture leaking out of you.

You didn’t dare reply, knowing that all that could come out of you now would be whines of lust.

“You, my dear, are ripe.”

With that, Loki dove head first into your cunt, licking and sucking like you were his favorite dessert.

The potion made your pussy swollen and sensitive, so everything he did felt ten times more pleasurable than anything your sisters tried.

Your hands gripped his wide shoulders and your knees fell apart as he ate you out.

“Loki—my Lord, I, I can’t!” You stammered out, head falling back as you enjoyed his worship of your pussy.

“Cat got your tongue, dear?” Loki joked, before taking your clit in between his perfect teeth.

“Fuck!” You positively screamed, which only made Loki double down.

Finally, he let go and you slowly loosened your grip, not realizing that you had been knuckle deep in his beautiful hair, tugging it, tangling it in your fingers. You saw pink half moons littered on the pale skin of his neck and face, evidence of your nails digging into his flesh.

Taking a beat to breathe, you smoothed his locks down on his head.

“Did I hurt you?” You inquired, feeling ashamed that you had lost yourself so completely in your lust.

“Yes. But I liked it, dearest. You can hurt me as much as you want to. Just as long as I can do the same.”

The dirty confession made your heart stutter in your chest, eyes wide. Seeing your expression, Loki laughed aloud, the sound blessing your ears.

He crawled up your body now, straightening your legs.

“Let’s see how ready you are for me, hmm?” Loki inserted one finger, then another into your pussy.

“Gods! That feels—!” You whined.

“Good, isn't it?” Loki finished for you. “Now, what about…here?”

He curled his digits upwards and put delicious pressure onto your spongy inner center.

Waves of stimulation shot through your limbs as your voice cried out in broken moans.

“Your knees are trembling, sweet girl.” Loki observed with amusement.

Indeed they were, and they continued to shake uncontrollably as Loki clamped down even harder, his fingers thrusting now.

“I-I can’t help it!” You cried out again, as Loki kissed your breasts, his hot mouth finding purchase on an erect nipple.

Your hands gripped his wrist and he couldn’t tell if you were trying to pull his hand out, or push it in deeper.

Regardless, he ground his palm against your clit, scissoring his digits inside of you, stretching you.

Preparing you.

“Oh my—I’m gonna cum!” You screamed out. Loki had already made you cum a few times. First, when his cock filled you up as you were sitting on his lap. Second, when he bit down on your clit.

And now, with his skilled fingers, he was making your pussy spasm and weep under his touch.

The orgasm was powerful, your whole body jerking up against his. With his free hand, Loki held you down, enjoying the wild ride.

Finally, as you relaxed, Loki released you and sat back. His forehead dappled with sweat, and his own breath coming in hard.

You couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Loki, your prince, was pleasuring, no—worshiping your body like it was his personal gift from Valhalla. He made you feel pleasure at heights you didn’t know existed. Somehow, he simply knew your body even though this was the first time he had ever touched you.

Lost in post-orgasm bliss, your eyes lazily traveled down to his still clothed erection, fighting to get out of his trousers. A thought crossed your mind.

“My Lord, can I undress you?” You murmured, locking eyes with him.

Loki didn’t reply, instead, he simply watched your naked body approach his clothed one as you slowly snaked your hands up his torso. You found each flap, each button, and slowly undid it all as his garments fell down in pieces on the bed.

You pulled his pants off his long legs, and his cock bounced up to greet you. With a gasp of joy, you pressed a soft kiss to his member and continued your kisses up the toned flesh of his chest until you got to his lips.

The action was intimate, like what lovers would do. And Loki let you touch him, admire him, without a word.

In the last bit of light of sunset, Loki’s skin glowed golden orange. He shone like the god he is.

“Beautiful.” You whispered in awe.

An arrogant smile curved along his face and he cradled a hand along the back of your head. He pressed a long, sensual kiss to your warm mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” He murmured the dirty words against your smiling lips.

Stalking over you like a predator hunts its prey, Loki climbed over your prone body, lining up his engorged cock with your weeping slit.

He watched you watch him as he slid in, inch by inch, your eyes watering as he forced his way into your cunt.

A self-satisfied smirk emerged on his face, knowing just how full he could make you feel.

Gently, he lowered his weight on top of you, pressing down so that his toned flesh covered your supple breasts and soft curves.

As he started to slowly thrust in and out of your tight core, Loki found both of your hands and brought them next to your head, interlacing his fingers with yours. Your palms were hot and sweaty, overwhelmed with the intimacy of his actions.

Summoning all the boldness you had inside of you, you dared your gaze to meet his and he was staring back at you with a mixture of lust and affection.

And also, possession.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Without warning, he pushed faster, his hips smacking into yours with a vengeance. You instinctively brought your knees up to allow him deeper access. The wet slap of his cock into your pussy was sinfully loud in the cavernous bedroom.

All manner of helpless yelps and whines came out of your throat, your hands squeezed his as he fucked you raw.

“You need to be fucked, hard and often, healer.” The way he said your title could have been synonymous with whore.

The intensity of his look was almost too much, daring you to look away, but you found that you couldn’t. You were entirely addicted to this man, stronger than any drug you could have created in the healing room.

By Odin, he was the only one for you.

You pressed your forehead to his as he continued to slam his cock deep inside of your womb.

“I’m yours, my Lord.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.

“Loki.” An unreadable expression crossed his face as Loki pushed himself up. He pulled your legs to wrap around his hips as he knelt on the bed. Your pussy was still clenched around his cock and you took the opportunity to suck in a few deep breaths.

“Wha-what?” You panted, confusion furrowing your brow.

“Say my name. Say that you belong to me.” Loki commanded. He rose up, pulling his shoulders back, looking every bit like the prince, the god that he is. His dark hair was pushed back on his forehead, sleek with sweat, framing his sharp features like a crown.

Automatically obedient, the declaration left your lips with sincerity and conviction.

“I belong to you, Loki.”

With a laugh of triumph, Loki grabbed the pliant flesh of your hips and slammed your body against his own. He railed your core with his cock, hitting deeper than you ever thought possible. Your ass slid along his strong thighs, the friction smarting your skin that was still tender from his earlier disciplining.

“Loki—it’s too much!” You cried out, losing yourself in pleasure.

“Cum for me, my sweet girl. Worship me with your cunt!” Loki growled out, thrusting impossibly harder, impossibly faster.

The sensation built and built, his name spilled out of your mouth in an endless stream of moans, until suddenly the pleasure peaked.

In that instance, time stopped. Your lips parted in a silent scream, and you saw him.

Veins bulged in his forearm as he pulled you flush against his hips. Nose scrunched up in effort as he fucked you deeply. His eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, wild in the throes of ecstasy.

Loki was your god.

And he was glorious.

Finally the air in your lungs released in a long-awaited scream and the orgasm crashed down. Nerve endings lit on fire, and your muscles jerked and spasmed underneath his strong grip. In the midst of your pleasure, you heard a faraway groan from your prince, and you could feel jets of hot cum coat the inside of your womb. He was marking you, claiming you as his.

You knew you would be his forever.

A few seconds later, Loki unceremoniously pulled out of your well-used pussy, and collapsed beside you, chest heaving with exertion.

Lying with one arm underneath his head, he lazily stroked your back as you curled up on his naked chest. Finally, the effect from the love potion had dissipated, leaving you with sweet relief.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence, but your mind started to swirl with insecure thoughts. You steeled your nerves to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind.

“Why did you never use me?”

“What do you mean, my dear?”

“Why did you never take a lover? Or ask for a healer’s services? I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, that you’re—“ Your mouth shut with an audible clack of your teeth.

Your clumsy tongue always got ahead of yourself. Worried you may have crossed a line, your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

But Loki answered honestly.

“You’re not my first. But I have long since known that I can’t fuck and forget like my ape of a brother.” He grimaces, and breathes in deeply before saying more.

“When I have sex, I need to own them. Possess them. I'm sure you noticed my dominant streak, my darling.”

“Then why’d you let me come in tonight? Why take the risk?” You wondered aloud.

“I’ve been watching you, my sweet little healer.”

You tensed automatically in surprise. Since when? What did he see? Why did he notice you?

Loki’s gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts as he confessed more.

“If you hadn’t approached me tonight, I would have snatched you from the healing room and made you mine before long.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating deep within his chest as you lay on his skin.

The revelation sank in slowly until finally, Loki pulled you up until your face was level with his.

“You just beat me to it, you naughty girl.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and your furrowed brow automatically relaxed.

“Tell me again. Will you belong to me, and only me?” He searched your eyes for any hint of deception, any trace of a lie.

You were certain that he would find none.

“Yes, Loki. I belong to you.”

…

#marvel #loki #loki laufeyson #Loki x reader #Loki laufeyson x reader #Thor #Thor 1 #Loki fic #Loki smut #Loki fanfic #marvel fic #marvel smut

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ch3rriiii-bunn · 1 year ago

Note

Being a maid in the house of kokushibo and yoriichi and serve them nicely. (yk what i meant 18+. Also female bodied reader)

Personal maid <3

GOD THIS PICTURE LMFAOOO also I'm using human kokushibo (michikatsu) for this if they have a maid to themselves

Part two: Here!!!

Warnings: Fem!reader, reader is a maid, human kokushibo (michikatsu), hard dom michikatsu, pleasure dom yoriichi, cum, humiliation kink(?), spanking, rough fucking, choking, mention of 3some

Michikatsu

Michikatsu, who takes joy in having you, the Tsugikuni twins personal maid to satisfy his needs after a long day of being a samurai.

Michikatsu who approached you directly on what to expect, being his and his brothers personal maid, even if their father informed you already. He's not as affectionate, but he makes sure to get to know you and what you're comfortable so you and him can do things smoothly without trouble.

Michikatsu who trained your throat so you know how to suck his cock right when he gets home from a hard day. When he comes out the shower and sits in front of you, man spreading, you already know what to do.

Michikatsu feels the most relived after cumming from oral. Your lips wrapped around his tip and sucking it, bobbing your head and your hand jerking him off is rhythm. "That's it" he groans letting his head fall back and grabbing a fist full of your hair "I'm going to cum, make sure to swallow it all. Don't let a single drop leak out to get me dirty after I use showerd, " he said and pushes your head down to take more of his cock.

Michikatsu, who gave you rules on what to do for him. One of them is not wear panties under your kimono, that way it makes easier for him to fuck you when he gets home. Whenever he walks by you around the house, he'll grab your ass to check, but if he grabs your ass and he feels you've got panties on, he'll punish you afterward.

Michikatsu, who bends you over lap, lifting your kimono to expose your ass and spanks you, making you count out loud. "I'm sorry master! I'm sorry, " you whine, hugging his musclar thigh, feeling the stings from each of his spanks. "Are you really? This is the 5th time you've disobeyed me." he said, moving your panties to the side and chuckles, "but you like being a brat just so I can punish you. Just look at this mess" he said as his fingers played with your leaking pussy. He wasnt wrong though, you did like it, almost love even.

Michikatsu who fucks you rough to relief him of stress. He fuck you in missionary to have the most control and having his hand always makes it up to your throat, squeezing it. "Is this too tight?" He'll always ask while fucking you hard, making his skin clap agiants your and all you could do is shake your head, holding onto his wrist while you let out breaking moans. "Too dumb on my cock to answer with words mm. But I like that face. I can't help but think you're always this excited for me to fuck you like a stupid whore"

Michikatsu, who's good with his pull out game. Just when he's about to cum hell pull out, cumming on your pussy, in your mouth or if he's in a good mood and you've cum on his cock like your told too then he'll cum inside you.

Michikatsu's aftercare is always a "thank you" or a "good job." He's not the best with comforting words, but he always asks if you're ok physically and mentally after sex. If you say you're fine to head to the bath by yourself after a rough fucking session he will carry you to the bath and he makes sure you've gotten to your room safely.

Yoriichi

Yoriichi is calm. More clam than his twin, but you underestimated his sex drive just because of how calm he is. After coming back home from God, he knows where he'll always come back, wanting to have you all to himself, even if it ment bumping heads with his twin with needing you more.

Yoriichi, who isn't afraid to play with you in public and eats your pussy for his own pleasure. He has you up against the wall. His head between your legs, licking and sucking on your clit with his fingers deep inside you. "M-master yoriichi, please," you whispered as your hand griped onto his hair. "A samurai could turn around this corner any minute- f-fuck" you cover your mouth to surpress your moans. He only moans in response on your clit while stroking his hard cock.

Yoriichi who likes to over stimulate your clit by trying to make you cum as many times as he can. When is he done making you cum from his tounge he'll rub his tip on your clit. "So pretty. You're leaking so much for me..." he said, slipping his tip between your wet folds, catching your slick, and pushing onto his tip inside your hole, in and completely out.

Yoriichi, who can't help but smile when you beg for him. "I'm sorry, I've been making you cum so much you've had nothing to clench on. Here you go" he whispers in your ear and moans once he's slides inside you slowly. "You're so tight. Don't hide your pretty moans from me. Let me hear you when you cum for me."

Yoriichi likes to fuck you in missionary but its different from how michikatsu would do. He always makes sure to put a pillow underneath your lower body to penetrate you deeper than normal and make it more pleasurable for you. "M-master, please~ oh gosh. I'm suppose to be taking care of you here" you moan out, yoriichi slamming into you roughly and him leaning forward to suck on your nipples "you're doing more then enough to help me, haa soo good for me. Seeing you like this and your pussy squeezing me from how good it feels is enough for me."

Yoriichi who likes to press his hand down gently on your abdomen gently when you let him know you're close. "Squirt for me. I know you can do it, you're such a good girl" he said and kisses your jawline "your getting so wet for me" his free hand starts to rub at your clit "ill fill you up just how you like it if you squirt on my cock"

Yoriichi is very wholesome with the aftercare to you. After a bath, he gives you a massage in your room, making sure you're not tensed or hurt anywhere. Sometimes, yoriichi will sleep in your room since he does like the comfort you give him

Bonus

During a samurai meeting, the Tsugikuni twins would often sit in the far back request their personal maid to sit between them after you've brought them tea. Their father found it foolish how clingy they've become to you but always brushed it off.

Yoriichi is the frist to make a move by grabbing your thigh and slowly grabbing the inner part of your thigh. You keep your head straight along with the twist yet your body heating up once you feel Yoriichi fingers brush on your pussy and then michikatsu starting to grab at your ass.

Yoriichi gets his fingers to start rubbing your clit in circles through your panties making you bite down on your lip to not make a sound while the meeting is going on. You wiggle slightly making michikatsu chuckle lowly while he moves his hand from your ass.

Michikatsu puts two fingers in his mouth to lubricant them without anyone noticing and leans closer to your ear "don't a sound" he said parting your thighs open more to slide his fingers in making you gasp and quickly covering your mouth. "Shhh, not so loud now. We don't want to be found out" yoriichi whispered and moaned in your ear "I can feel your clit throbbing for us already" he said as his other hand cups your boob and playing with your hard nipple through your kimono with his fingers.

Michikatsu smirks and finger fucks you faster, hearing the sounds of your wet pussy and watches you cover your mouth desperately to hide your moans. "Be of service to us and stroke our cock" he said and your hands reach over, exposing your cocks and beginning to jerk them off.

Yoriichi's head falls onto your shoulder as he felt your warm hard wrapped around his cock and rubs your clit faster. Michikatsu bites your ear softly "fuck you're being so good" his voices became raspy trying to stay quiet himself. "If you cum for us you'll get two cocks stuffed I'm you as a reward. How dose that sound, y/n?"

"I-id love that," you whispered back. "I'll be a good girl, don't worry~"

#demon slayer smut #kny smut #yoriichi smut #yoriichi x reader #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo smut #michikatsu x reader #michikatsu smut #kny michikatsu

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mamayan · 11 months ago

Note

yandere jjk? with noncon(your wish) megumi /gojo/toji

Yandere Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro x Fem! Darling

cw: Not proof read • Gladiator JJK! • Slave girl reader • Dark • Yandere • NSFW • Fem/AFAB Reader • NONCON turned DUBCON • Punishment • Spanking • Darling has hair long enough to pull • Spitting • Oral/Deep Throating • PIV Sex • Anal/Anal Play • Double Penetration • Gangbang • Praise/Degradation • Humiliation • Dumbification • Overstimulation • Dom jjk men • Sub reader • Kinda fluffy? • Manipulation • Sadistic Satoru (kinda)

wc: A lot? Idk like 4k or more, I did half on google doc and half here lol

Porn with no plot, just straight porn.

“Hey, Meg,” it’s bad. This entire day couldn’t be going more horribly wrong.

“Hn?” A soft grunt for someone covered in so much gore.

“Your old man care we’re in his quarters?” The white haired male had his eyes covered by a strange metal band, one usually connected to a helmet. He wore no head gear though, hardly any armor either. A testament to his confidence and strength.

“He doesn’t.” The dark haired male still dripping blood spoke back, but his eyes didn’t leave your cowering form.

“Well then shall we? I’ve been hard since I won my match. Be a shame to waste good meat when it’s offered up like this.” The vile and leering tone of the white haired devil above you only had your blood going icy. The cool wet stone beneath your aching knees and skinned up palms was a stark contrast to your boiling insides. They spoke as if you were akin to the animals kept beneath the Colosseum, as if you were livestock meant for slaughter and not a living person. You should’ve known better, your Master had been so eager to offer up a servant for the great Gladiator Toji upon the man’s request. It seemed odd to not send a more experienced servant… instead your Master sent you. A lesser slave and much more inexperienced… you now realize why after being sent below the arena you were only used to seeing from above.

Gladiators surely have earned their keep. Muscles and bared teeth, the Gladiators are warriors to their core, ready to spill blood and die at any moment.

A soft thing like you? They wanted to chew up and spit out. Swallow whole. Take you apart piece by piece until you knew nothing of your own name or life before. Except you were Toji’s and that meant something. Well, to everyone but the two younger males standing over you. The white haired male seemingly a bit older than the dark, the two close too as the older one leaned against his younger counterpart with a hand on his hip as he examined you behind his metal eye block. You knew who these two males were. Everyone knew who they were.

Satoru and Megumi, you’d only seen them from afar, not wealthy enough to afford to sit closer to the arena floor. Even from afar they left an impression though, at least on your soul.

Demons.

Creatures from hell which have proven unkillable. Megumi being Toji’s son, while Satoru acted as Megumi’s teacher. They ruled the arena, and it’s not a secret that Satoru is a noble’s son who willingly joined the Gladiators after serving in the Imperial military. Megumi too volunteered for his position, while his father stayed employed working off an endless debt due to a gambling addiction the wealthy enjoy feeding. His mountain of owed cash so overflowing it’s rumored he even owes to the Emperor himself.

Yet it didn’t explain why you were here like this. You’d been told indirectly from a stable hand that Toji wished you to clean and wait in his chambers, private unlike lower classed Gladiators. Instead you’d been grabbed and tossed to the floor by Satoru and spoken about before your very eyes. You weren’t a fool. What they, or at least Satoru wanted, was clear enough.

“I-I’m sorry if I offended m-my lords, p-please forgive—,” you were silenced by a hand raising, a slim perfect finger help up against plush pink lips. Satoru’s lips tilted up in amusement as he eyed you behind his shades.

“Nu-uh pretty, you be good and stay silent while we talk, okay?” He spoke to you as one would address a child, not how a man who was quickly untying his leather breaches might. He ignored your trembling form to return his attention to his pupil.

“She’s cuter close up like this, right Meg?” Satoru teased, happy to free his aching hard cock from the tight confines of his pants. He loved the look of fright in your wide doe eyes, a slight tremor to your bottom lip. “I’ve been craving to sink my cock into your little cunt for a while now.” He’s addressing you again, crouching down to get more to your eye level so you caught a flash of bright blue through the metal blocking his eyes. His grin is sadistic and jovial, sharp canines bared aggressively as he jerks his leaking shaft without shame while watching you.

“P-please don’t—hgh!” Your jaw is gripped in an iron lock by Satoru, who still smiles despite the furrow of his brow.

“Thought I said no talkin’? If I need’a say it again…” he leaves the threat open. You can only tearfully nod the best his grip allows, cheeks smushed and lips pursed cutely while your reddened eyes silently ask for mercy this time. His grip softens minutely, “Good girl~” he praises, smile becoming less vicious as he releases you to stand up again.

“Want her first Meg?” Satoru addresses the silent male, who stares down at you with the same intensity he held the moment you’d entered the chambers.

“Yes.” That chills you more than Satoru’s comment, Megumi’s demeanor more dark and strangely concerning as he steps towards you. You have a few options now, and your mind reminds you that if you don’t act now it’s entirely over for you. Your first option is to simply allow it to happen. You’re a slave with no status, and you’ve had your ownership transferred to a Gladiator in eternal debt with the most violent track record. These two before you have a close connection with your new owner, disobeying could mean death.

Then again obedience could mean it too.

You leapt, lucky enough to escape the hand reaching out to grab you as you sprinted for the door. The thick wooden frame made your muscles scream as you yanked it open, and just as your foot stepped through the threshold, you were yanked back by your hair. A sharp scream echoed off the stone walls, your legs kicking out in protest as you fought back wildly.

Megumi needle only one arm to yank you up off your feet and onto the low platform bed his father occasionally used to sleep on. It’s been weeks though since he’s bothered sleeping in his own chambers, more often than not bought home by a noble woman for the evening after matches to warm their bed for a steep price. He rolled his eyes at your dramatics, easily subduing you with a hand circling your neck and slowly decreasing your oxygen and blood flow.

It made you very compliant, much to his lower half’s enjoyment. The little whimpers and weak hands slapping at his chest were akin to a kitten’s attack.

“Let’s see here~” Satoru hums, quick to grip the fabric of your clothing between two hands and tear it down the middle. It was a useless endeavor to attempt to escape, as they chuckle and strip you entirely naked on the bed smelling of dust, sweat, and blood now. Both males haven’t showered, Megumi’s body the most blood soaked even after stripping. The metallic sour tinge to his masculine scent revolting as you turn your head away in disgust.

“Nu-uh~ bad girl, you keep your eyes on us, or I’ll just remove them from your skull. Okay?” It didn’t matter how terrified you were before, the thought of your eyes being removed had them snapping to the male who threatened you. He’d tossed aside his eye piece, letting you see the visibly beautiful face of a God it seemed smiling down at you. In a way he was a God, or at least blessed by one, his strength and power undeniable but wicked and cruel ways no less. One pale slender finger pressed against the side of your face, just under your eye, and Satoru took enjoyment seeing how quickly you froze up. “Be a good girl now, Meg hasn’t had a woman before, so you’ll both get to have your first! Isn’t that romantic?” It wasn’t, at least to you, but the almost dreamy look in the dark eyed male was unmistakable.

Megumi was certainly in a dream it seemed. How could he not be? You were here, beneath him, and completely naked and vulnerable to do as he pleased. Before today he was certain you didn’t know his name, or if you did it was merely from his matches. He knew your name though, said it a thousand times when he gripped his cock and worked himself over, moaning it while he came nearly every morning. He wouldn’t need to touch his cock anymore though. He had you now. Whether he needed to share you with his teacher or father wasn’t bothersome, it meant you had more eyes looking out for you anyway.

Satoru amused himself with scaring you senseless while Megumi parted your trembling thighs, settling his shoulders between them to keep you from closing them again. “Oh fuck,” he breathed, catching Satoru’s attention.

“Look how wet she is…” Megumi couldn’t bring himself to much else but admire your soaked cunt even as you mumbled quiet pleas and prayers.

“Oh? Are you a little pervert Y/N? Do you like the thought that we’re going to fuck you?” Satoru’s relentless, soft lips pressing close to your ear and whispering his intentions and insults against the shell while you writhe at the feeling of something soft and slimy poking through your folds. His tongue, you realize with a jolt of him licking up, grazing your sensitive little clit. Your gasp doesn’t go unnoticed by either male, and soon a wide chiseled chest blankets you as Satoru captures your lips in a heavy kiss and invasion of your mouth. Megumi focuses on your lower mouth though, fingers digging into the fat of your thigh as he struggles to retain his sanity as he loses himself to your taste and the erotic euphoria filling him. Every little wiggle and moan encourages him on where to lick and suck, and eventually his fingers sneak down and into your quivering wet hole.

“Mhm! P-plea—!” Satoru muffles all protest with his mouth, one free hand playing with your chest while you struggle to avoid the building pressure in your lower belly as Megumi relentlessly attacks your nub and hole. He flicks and meanly pinches and pulls your nipples, enjoying how your spine arches up each time he bullies them. He doesn’t let you avoid his kiss, and if you close your mouth he plugs your nose and forces it open again so his tongue can taste you.

It’s too much, and you’re coming much too quickly from their rough attention.

It doesn’t end though, only changes as Megumi lifts up, dark hair slightly limp and falling into his eyes as he softly smiles at you, much like a lover might despite the horrid situation. “So good f’me, think you can do it again for him?” He’s not really asking, as he switches places with Satoru who looks overjoyed and viscous as he stares at your quivering dripping pussy.

“Course she can, just listen.” Satoru laughs, messily rubbing your overly sensitive clit and eliciting a yelp from your swollen lips. The lewd wet noises produced from his heavy petting only increasing the shame building inside you as you tearfully whine and try to twist your hips away. “She’s soaking the bed too. We’re getting everything dirty anyway, let’s just fuck her up as much as possible.” You don’t understand what that means until two fingers sink all the way inside you without warning.

“Oh Gods!” Your short cry is silenced again when Megumi decides to kiss you. His lips more tentative and the taste slightly shocking until you realize you’re tasting yourself on his tongue. Despite all you wish for, it makes you tighten on Satoru’s fingers as he gleefully curls them up inside your gummy walls.

“Think she likes how she tastes.” The devilish comment only makes Megumi groan in response, pulling back slightly to reply. “She tastes fucking delicious.” He murmurs against you, stealing your breath again while your poor cunt is finger fucked by Satoru at a quick and forceful rate. Each thrust of his hand accompanied by a loud squelch as he uses his other hand to ensure you stay spread and still despite the panic striking you.

“Mh! S’too’—ngh!!!” Even as you squirm and cry, neither lets up until you’re breaking this time, orgasm so strong you feel your eyes roll back.

“That’s it pretty girl, cum for me,” Satoru nearly comes with you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, fluid rapidly forced from the confines of your cunt and out as you squirt for him. It’s a sight for sore eyes, the cute fucked out expression on your face as they force your body to relax and lubricate itself for their pleasure.

You’re too out of it to notice the switch again, Megumi back between your thighs but this time holding his curved thick cock between his fingers. Gripping it, he pulls back the skin hiding his sensitive head, easily slicking the tip up. The bulbous soft head smushing against your clit and folds and dragging up and down as you squeak and tiredly roll your head to look up and down.

It’s too late to truly realize what’s happening until his hips are surging forward and the tight ring of muscle at the opening of your pussy is stretched wide open on his cock for the first time. Your scream is silent, mouth open but no noise leaving. Instead you hear Megumi’s moans, short gasps of pleasure huffed into the humid and heating room as he struggles to work his shaft into your tight canal either trying to suck him further in or force him out. Your contracting muscles and choked gasps only spur him to fuck deeper until you’re filled inch by inch with him.

He bottoms out eventually, your sweaty bodies tinged slightly pink as he rubs against you, smearing blood from the Gladiator he killed today on your skin now.

“Wow~ look at how well you’re taking him, here, I’ll help.” In your shock and daze, you’d nearly forgotten about Satoru. The male happy to lift you up and make you see the enormous cock now swallowed up inside you, filling you almost painfully as you shake. “How’s it feel Meg?” He asks, blue eyes looking at Megumi’s strained expression.

“G-good…” is all he can manage. It’s better than good, more than good will ever be, but it’s all he can choke out without snapping and fucking you roughly.

“Hm~ it’ll feel better if you play with her here,” Satoru guides, his striking blue gaze focused on you with a nearly malevolent intensity as you grit your teeth to attempt to adjust to the intrusion more gracefully. He ruins it though, skilled fingers dancing down your belly and right to where you’re most vulnerable. Your cry isn’t silenced this time as Satoru presses down on the fleshy pearl above your opening. Megumi’s clumsy thrusts have spread you to your limit while Satoru rubs your nub with calculated precision.

“F-forgive me…I-I’m sorry…” both males look to your face now, confusion painting Megumi’s flushed face while Satoru seems enamored.

“How cute~ what’re you apologizing for?” He doesn’t let up. His fingers give you no rest and Megumi’s jerky thrusts seem intent on staying as deeply buried as possible. “Shh, being s’good, relax for me.” Megumi murmurs close to your ear, leaning over you some as Satoru braces you from behind.

It’s too much. You’re clamping down tight around the hot shaft stuffed deep inside, muscles contracting almost painfully around him.

“Gods—fuck, she’s so tight,” he sounds in pain, his nails digging in more harshly into your flesh as Megumi struggles to withhold his orgasm. It’s useless, moments after your own crashes down, he’s spilling into you, thick spurts of cum filling your womb as you groan and lay limp in Satoru’s arms.

Megumi recovers faster than you though, kissing your tired sweaty face as you blearily stare up in a daze.

He finds it cute.

Satoru does too. Happy to simply pull you up under your arms like a rag doll and position over his lap and against his chest.

“I can’t—a-anymore, no more—,”

“Poor thing. Has no one told you it’s good to push your limits? I think you can. Should we see who is right?” Your pleading look is lost on Megumi who merely pats your hair down, face serene as he watches you. Satoru gives you no time to recover before he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and lifting you.

“No cryin’ now, I let Meg stretch you out good n’well, I don’t want any tears unless they’re from how good I’m fuckin’ you.” His grin is sinful as he lets gravity sink you on his cock, the low light of the candles on the wall giving the illusion of sunset across his pale pretty features.

“O-oh!” Satoru snickers a laugh as you moan in startled shock. His words not a lie as he stretches you out in a different way. Where Megumi had been thick and curved, Satoru was much longer, hitting so deep it felt like the air was knocked from your lungs. It was enough a surprise to have you holding onto him, making the white haired Gladiator coo at you.

“Look at you~,” he’s not gentle as he bounces you on his cock. “Am I just so deep in this pussy? She seems to like how I fill her out, she’s just gushin’ all over me.” He holds onto the fat of your ass, hands spread wide to help anchor and rock you as he thrusts up. “Stay awake, pretty girl, remember what I told you? Eyes on me.” It’s difficult to concentrate on his husky voice when it seems he’s intent on breaking you, each time his shaft struck deep inside you swore your vision blurred. This wasn’t the slow overwhelming pleasured pain forced on you by Megumi… this was just rough sloppy sex with a maniac. Nevertheless, you do as told as try to keep your eyes open and on Satoru. His gaze didn’t waver like yours, despite the sweat sliding down his cheek, he never lost his arrogant smile or sparkle in his eyes.

A stark contrast to the lax expression you wore, lips parted and wet as you struggle to even swallow as you tearily moan like a whore in a brothel for these Gladiators using you like a sex toy. Your fucked out face and impending orgasm are what send Satoru over the edge. When your soft warm pussy creams around him and your eyes cross, Satoru can’t help but nearly whimper as his balls draw up tight and he fills you up along with Megumi’s earlier load.

The dark haired male seemingly content to watch or occasionally praise and pet sweetly while Satoru savagely used you.

It’s over, it must be over, you think as Satoru pulls out of you slowly with a soft pop, lifting you up and off to the side to lay you down. You can feel their combined releases leak down your thighs, soft hiccups escaping you as you catch your breath and come down from the intense high.

You feel nearly hollow as both men stand and begin loosely dressing, holstering their weapons back into their bodies as they prepare to simply leave.

It hurts worse despite all else.

“Pretty girl looks heartbroken Meg, should we stay?”

“Not when he’s coming back from a match, we need to meet with the Emperor before he goes back to the Palace.” Megumi shakes his head, his gaze softening when it lands on you.

“We’ll be back in a few hours, be good.”

They’re gone after those words, and while your heart filled with fury and humiliation, your eyes burned with sadness and something akin to loneliness. Just as you’d finished wallowing in self pity, ready to pull yourself together again and clean up both yourself and the mess made, the door opens again.

Both of you freeze, though for different reasons.

Toji froze because he’d forgotten he’d had you sent here, and you froze because a monster was standing before you.

Your scream is muffled before it leaves your lips, one single palm covering nearly your entire face as Toji looms over you in his full arena battle armor, the black intricately designed metal dripping crimson as he drops his weapon to the ground with a clang.

“Non’a that shit. Hear me, girl?” You nod weakly to show you listened.

Once he was sure you weren’t planning to scream his ears off more than the crowds already did, he released you and took another look.

Cute and well fucked is his first appraisal. He briefly recalls Megumi telling him his wish to have you, so it’s not strange his kid had jumped on his new slave so quickly. The marks littering you were likely that asshole’s doing, his kid too soft to be anything but be sweet towards the object of his affection. Toji briefly considered getting paid for his services tonight, but he was tired, and you looked fresh enough still.

“They fuck you good?” His question brought a baffled look to your face, amusing him as he begins unfastening his ties and removing his armor. You stay awestruck before him as he slowly sheds his persona in the arena, his laid back rugged appearance quite handsome up close as he towers over you with both height and brawn.

“M-master—,” you would either be killed or sold, there’s no way—

“You think you can handle me too?”

You stand nude before your new master still dripping the cum of his son and peer, and he asks if he can have a turn too?

“Yeah. I think you can.” He answers himself in your state of shock, and despite the sweat and blood coating him, he’s unabashed as he strips naked and corrals you back onto the bed.

“M-master please, I-I need to clean up! A-and sh-should run you a bath!” You were grasping at straws, frantically trying to escape the beastly male now licking his lips with a smirk, the scar in his mouth tugging up. You make the mistake of looking down, only to see the monster he contained beneath his armored belt.

Why was it so big? The girth alone frightened you, his length even longer than Satoru’s too, the veins running along the enormous shaft made your poor slick cunt still dripping cum clench. He’d break you. There’s not a doubt in your mind as you crawl away, his advance never slowing as he chuckles at your display.

“I don’t see why ya can’t clean after, hn?” He descends like a wolf to prey, easily pinning you down on your back, slotting his body between your thighs and forcing them open painfully wide to accommodate his size. “Don’t even need’t prep, still drippin’ huh?” He smiles, lazily grabbing his heavy appendage and lubricating himself through your folds.

“P-please master, it won’t fit—hah!” Your cry of shock only makes him sink faster and deeper into you, pressing and forcing himself into your cunt which protests the weighty thick invasion of the older male above you. He smells like the earth, like soft dirt and grass, metallic like copper, and sweat. Toji watches as your back arches further and further up, the sharp angle not looking entirely pleasant but it pushes your bust up for him to lean over and capture a perky nipple to suckle on, his teeth grazing the tip and groaning as your cunt spasms around him.

“Never understand why women say it won’t fit,” Toji mumbles against your saliva covered tit, strings of it still connected to his mouth as he casually addresses you despite pulling out and making you feel like he’s going to take your insides with it. “Y’can push a baby through here, my cock isn’t as big as that.” Not the point, but you’re too feverish to pay attention any longer as he begins sliding in easier and easier as the combined releases from earlier lube his cock to fuck you.

He sees the strain on your face, the shaking of your thighs and the tears leaking down your cheeks again. Generously, Toji lifts up under both your knees and hoists you higher, holding your lower half up and allowing himself to slide deeper. The girlish squeal you release only has his hips snapping harder, working his cock in as deep as he can, feeling the stress of the day melt in your soft tight pussy. He grunts as you cum, mouth open as drool escapes down your chin, cute wet moans so soft and breathy as you shudder and gasp.

“That feel good?” He smiles, the dopey expression on your face too cute for him not to bend down and capture your lips this time. Sucking and nibbling on your lips till they’re swollen before he delves his tongue into your hot mouth, his tongue taking up too much space until you’re squirming for air. He denies you it, swirling around your own pink appendage while rocking you with each thrust, rolling his hips expertly until your eyes are going crossed and you’re meeting his thrusts with your own. When your hands move to touch him, he restrains them, curling his much larger hands around your own and putting them beside your head while he presses you up and down into a mating press.

“Oh gods,” you can only cry for mercy, begging for more or less you aren’t sure, as he languidly pumps his cock into you until you don’t know up from down.

“No gods here girl, just this fucking tight little cunt y’got here, beggin’ f’another load.” You can’t even shake your head, in fact you find you wouldn’t mind it, the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you. He’s pressed you down so well you can’t even wiggle your hips, only moan and whine waiting for him to speed up, to fuck you harder.

He doesn’t. Just keeps the same steady pace and rhythm, balls slapping your ass at the same time, slimy and wet with all the mixed fluids your cunt has forced out by Toji’s invasion. Toji ignores your nonverbal cues for more, smirk still the same as he even occasionally grinds in deep to watch your eyes widen and lips part. The soft squishy leaking tip of his cock continuously smushing up against the soft barrier of your cervix, ready to spill his load and fill your womb.

“Master~” you begin to lose it completely, arching up as well as you can to press your chest to him, “Harder! Please fuck me! Please, harder please—,” a mindless chant for more, just a little more, to push you into that crest of euphoria where you crave to be again.

Who is he to deny such cute lewd begging?

Toji laughs, grin bared like a wild animal as he leans even more weight down on you before picking up his pace, pounding you into the mattress while your eyes roll back into your skull and you scream your impending orgasm. It hits you so hard you pass out for a moment, vision completely darkening as waves of pleasure engulf you.

Toji spills his load not long after, groaning deep in his throat as he releases as deep into you as possible, hips stilling and locking against your groin to ensure your cunt doesn’t waste a drop.

“Hey,” you’re too out of it, as he taps your cheek and only receives a blissed out smile and clouded vision. Just as he prepares to pull out and give himself a minute before fucking you again, his door opens.

“Boo~! You stretched her poor pussy out with that thing. I wanted to play with it again.” Satoru whines, blue eyes narrowed in childish petulance.

“Shut up, brat.” Toji rolls his eyes, cocking a brow at Megumi who moves silently around to check on you. His small smile at the pretty expression you wore grew, looking so fondly down at you it made Toji’s teeth ache.

“Hey~ Meg, you gonna use her? Otherwise I will~” Satoru begins undressing shamelessly, Toji’s exasperated glower ignored as the white haired male joins them in bed, tapping his hard cock on your puffy slick lips, letting you taste his salty precum.

“Fucking brats.” Despite his words, Toji feels his cock hardening again inside your warmth, giving a few short hard thrusts into your cunt to fully harden. He grips your hips and rolls so you rest on his chest, digging his fingers into the fat of your ass and spreading your cheeks for the two younger males to see.

“She’s got another hole that can be filled.” Toji grunts, beginning a slow a pace sensual pace inside you, more rocking than actual thrusts as you mewl against the hard planes of his chest. Satoru shivers, licking his lips as he brings his face down to where your puckered back entrance rests untouched. He’s unbothered by Toji’s thick cock spreading your pussy open, opening his mouth and letting his tongue prod your ass while you jolt and tremble in Toji’s hold.

“Easy girl, ain’t gonna hurt.” He mumbles, roughly petting your hair while you turn your face away to look back, only to feel fingers gently tangle in your hair.

“Here,” you’re being fed more cock, Megumi’s leaking swollen tip smearing his fluids across your closed lips until they open and he can plunge into your mouth’s warm depths with a moan. Your mind slowly goes blank again, the earlier feeling of panic fading as Satoru plays with your ass, using your own cum as lube and spreading it over the hole before playfully pressing his thumb into the tight space.

You moan around Megumi’s cock, the shaft sinking deeper into your throat while Toji fucks you a little faster, feeling you tighten with Satoru’s intrusion.

They play like that for a while, slowly speeding up before becoming languid again, turning you into a soft wet mess in their hold as Satoru finally lines his cock up with your free hole, groaning loudly as he fails to press inside. A sharp slap to your ass tears you free from your bliss, the pain biting but making the pleasure stand out more as Satoru looks at your hole in irritation. “Hey, sluts should just relax, let me in,” he complains, slapping your ass again and making you do the opposite and tighten.

“Shit, tight fucking pussy,” Toji moans, moving you up and down his shaft faster while Satoru tries again, spitting on his dick lewdly and pressing the tip back at your hole, hips driving forward and finally breeching. “Ngh—!” Satoru nearly cums on the spot, feeling the tight ribbed walls of your ass strangling his cock as he spears you open.

You’re so full it’s unbelievable, head empty and completely blank while feeling two thick cocks open you up while Megumi continues to fuck your mouth.

You can’t say a word, only feel as Satoru sets the pace while Toji helps rock you back and forth. With your hips occupied with Toji’s hands, Satoru instead wraps his long slender fingers around your neck, dragging you away from Megumi, loose enough for you to breathe but tight so he can draw you up against his chest as he drives into your tight sphincter with short jerky thrusts, lips pressed against your ear as he groans low in his throat. Megumi stands, perfect height with you lifted like this to comfortably slip his cock back into your mouth and down your throat. It’s too much and not enough at the same time, the slow clapping of skin and trembling movements, no one wanting this to end too soon while you writhe and jerk in their hold as they use you.

“I think you like being our little whore, huh?” Satoru whispers in your ear like a demon. “Feeling us all fill your filthy holes, making you our pretty slut to fuck however we want.” He’s so deep inside you, hips flush with your ass he stretches you on his cock, the thin skin separating him and Toji continuously stretched and rubbed from inside. A mess of fluids coated you all from below, so much so it was all wet squelching and moans from the languid movements of the gladiators. “Bet you’d like it if we just chained you up to fill all your holes, right Princess?” His condescending tone is lost on you as you feel your lower belly tighten painfully, the fullness becoming more evident as you get closer to your end.

“Don’t tease her,” Megumi huffs, looking fondly at Satoru with a hint of exasperation. “She’s being so good, taking all of us so well,” he feels you swallow around his rod, eyes fluttered closed as he thrusts into your mouth. “We should reward her.”

Toji chuckles, knowing exactly what the two were up to.

“Oh~? How should we reward our little cum Princess then?” You stutter as you feel Toji shift his hand and press down on your belly, body shaking as your eyes watered. Your hands were useless trying to push him away, only feeling his cock twitch and flex inside of you while he smiled.

“She looks close, should help her finish.” Megumi huffs, his own end nearing as you slobber and choke on his cock.

“Hmm~ guess I’ll be nice, this time,” he breathes the last bit in your ear threateningly, but the seductive undertone has you shaking in a way that isn’t from fear. Satoru releases one hand from around your throat to dip down until he can swirl his finger around your swollen sensitive clit. It’s already covered in slick, easily letting him press and grind down, feeling you buck and moan in their grasp beautifully.

“You gonna cum Princess? All over our cocks?” Satoru has you clutched close as he fucks you, helping forcing you down on Toji’s cock while you groan around Megumi’s length. “Cum for us, let us ruin you.” It’s like he’s a prophet for the Gods, because when you do cum, you do feel ruined. Megumi’s hips stutter as you gluck and allow his cock even deeper, his balls drawing tight as he floods your throat with his cum.

Satoru and Toji cum shortly after, grunting and moaning their own finishes while you’re cradled limply against Toji’s chest now, eyes unfocused as you’re filled again and again.

Your dreams provide you with sweet relief, as you’re left unconscious in Megumi’s arms as he cleans you in a warm bath he’s pulled and heated.

“No fun~ she looked cuter covered in cum.” Satoru grins, but his smitten expression isn’t missed by Megumi who shakes his head with a smile.

“She won’t sleep good like that.” Is all he says, gently washing you clean and drying you off to take to bed. The bed Toji hardly ever uses now occupied by four occupants.

Toji watches in silence as you’re laid down, Megumi calmly sliding in while Satoru flatly lays at the bottom of the bed.

“Sure you want her?” Toji asks as the silence descends on them all.

Megumi’s dark gaze flicks up to his father.

“Hmph, acting like you don’t?” He challenged back, only to be met with a smirk and a heavy hand landing on top his head, making Satoru cackle.

You awake clean and warm, with a new pristine silver chain wrapped around your ankle and chained into the stone wall.

Satoru wasn’t kidding.

Dividers by @benkeibear

If you liked this, please reblog!♡ It is what sustains me, well, coffee too but reblogging is the dominant factor—

#not proof read #tw: dark content #tw: noncon #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere jjk smut #yandere Gojo Satoru #yandere megumi fushiguro #yandere toji fushiguro #Gojo Satoru x reader smut #Megumi fushiguro x reader smut #toji fushiguro x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #x fem reader #idk I’m tired

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luminnara · 8 months ago

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Unheavenly Creatures Part Two | Feyd-Rautha x reader (NSFW)

PART ONE | PART THREE

Summary: in the wake of an arena victory on his name day, Feyd rautha blows off some steam with his darlings.

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Read this fic on AO3 under the same account name, luminnara!

Warnings: group sex/foursome, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mentions of cannibalism, canon typical violence, it’s Feyd-Rautha it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, bloodplay, biting, marking, possessiveness, the whole shebang

Word count: 4.6k

Note: I have been desperately trying to find any info I can on the harpies, and I have not managed much 🥲 so pls enjoy my headcanons and made up names ily bye

Tags: @austinswhitewolf @aeilani @maneater17 @serrendiipty @belovedbastardremus @the-dark-dreamer25

It was a day of celebration, and the entire palace—no, city—was abuzz. Inside, a feast was nearly finished, a kitchen full of cooks working day and night for a week to prepare the na-Baron’s favorite dishes. Outside, beneath a black sun, the citizens of Giedi Prime sat cheering in the arena, drinking in the sight of their beloved Feyd-Rautha as he gutted the last of the Atreides warriors. Even as you made your way back to the palace, the roar of the crowd was deafening, their penchant for bloodshed seemingly increased tenfold on this special day.

“Come,” one of the women next to you said, her voice a high, breathy hiss.

“Feyd will want us,” the other smiled, her black teeth contrasting dramatically against her near-white skin.

Feyd-Rautha’s darlings had been quick to accept you as one of them. You suspected it was partly because they didn’t dare question him, though you had seen occasional instances of what could be considered mild defiance from them in your short time on Giedi Prime. They, and you, were permitted to act out on occasion, though none of you were foolish enough to do so in a way that would cast an ill light on your beloved na-Baron. And he was your beloved—with each passing day, you grew more and more comfortable with the Harkonnen heir, and more and more certain that he adored you.

“We will feast on Atreides tonight,” Issa sighed.

“Feyd will reward us,” Yarina said, looking down at you with a grin.

You returned it.

As the three of you walked down the hall, moving as a single, predatory unit, Harkonnen and guests alike were quick to move out of the way. You heard the whispers, caught the curious, sometimes shocked stares as you passed. Feyd’s darlings were rarely seen wandering, and as such, even members of the Harkonnen nobility found themselves stunned by the sighting.

You kept pace with the others as you walked, mindful of the carefully curated air they liked to keep about them. They were both exquisite examples of Harkonnen beauty, equally as dangerous as they were lovely, and though you still did not know much about who they had been before Feyd chose them as concubines, you enjoyed their company. It was a good thing, too; now, you spent nearly every moment with them, and when you weren’t with them, it was because you were alone with Feyd-Rautha.

Some nights, he called you to his bed, having his way with you, whispering things in your ear that he would never say during the daylight hours. Things he reserved only for you. At night, Feyd-Rautha could be almost kind, and you came to suspect that he loved his darlings, in his own way; otherwise, why would you all be allowed to touch him, to pleasure him, to feast with him?

You had never expected that you might become a concubine for the heir of one of the Houses. As a child, you had often dreamt of becoming a princess and being swept away through the stars to wed your handsome prince. But you were no noble; your parents bore no titles, and the closest you were ever meant to come to greatness was when you served your former masters. Was it luck that had brought you where you were today, freely roaming the Harkonnen palace while you awaited your beloved Feyd-Rautha? Or had fate played a trick on you, giving you close to what you had always wanted while still refusing you any title or noble birth? Perhaps it was better this way; perhaps you would enjoy your life as a concubine far more than you would if you had been a lady of the court.

Perhaps the universe had known you would one day commit violent acts, and planned a fitting role for you. If you hadn’t killed your father all those years ago, would you even be on Giedi Prime now? Would Feyd-Rautha had cared at all about the handmaiden who had wandered too far? Perhaps he would have killed you, seeing you as expendable. He would have slit your throat, and his uncle the Baron would have pretended he cared enough to apologize to the Lord and Lady you had served. They would have gotten someone new, and you would have been easily and quickly disposed of.

Perhaps Feyd would have fed you to his darlings.

How strange the wheel of fate was.

“What are you thinking about?” Issa asked you, tilting her head as she looked at you curiously. Her voice was always breathy and alien, a dreamlike quality within it. It matched her appearance and yet it didn’t, making her seem even less human than her black teeth and eyes did.

“Yes, you seem so far away,” Yarina agreed, her accent more akin to the na-Baron’s than Issa’s. You had been on Giedi Prime long enough now to recognize differences in accent and dialect, and had begun trying your best to imitate Feyd’s in an attempt to better fit in. You had no idea if it was working or not, but no one had commented on it yet, which you took to be a good sign.

“My House allied with House Harkonnen,” you said as the three of you neared Feyd-Rautha’s chambers.

“Your former House,” Issa corrected, raising a hand to stroke your cheek. “You are Harkonnen now.”

“I do not look Harkonnen.”

“You do.” Yarina pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

This was normal with them, you had come to learn; they touched casually and constantly, always in contact with each other and now you by default.

“There is no doubt my former Mistress, or at least her husband, is visiting for the celebration.” You said.

“Perhaps our lovely Feyd-Rautha will kill them for you,” Yarina offered.

“Perhaps our lovely Feyd-Rautha will allow us to kill them,” Issa grinned.

You did not know if you wanted that to happen.

You followed them through the door and into Feyd’s living quarters, settling on the large bed while you waited for him. You could imagine him stalking through the halls, bright red Atreides blood painting his chest and face as he hurried back to you. He would kill or maim anyone who stood in his way or tried to slow him down. He was always wild after a fight in the arena, and he always came to you hot and hard and ravenous.

You hoped today would be no exception.

“He must hurry,” Issa pouted as she lounged next to you. “I’m growing hungry.”

“He will come,” Yarina sighed. “He would never let us starve.”

You weren’t sure if they were talking about sex, or food, or both, but you always marveled at the way they spoke of Feyd. They knew how dangerous and callous he could be, but to the harpies, that was normal. If he was a lion, then they were the lionesses; just as cunning, just as regal, just as hungry. Whenever you walked alongside them, you learned more of how to be like them. You learned how to keep your head held high in a room of Harkonnen men, confident that none but Feyd-Rautha would dare to touch you lest they lose a limb or their life. You learned how to stomach the violence that the na-Baron enacted so frequently, and even how to anticipate it eagerly. You had changed in your time on Giedi Prime, and you were becoming more and more like your fellow concubines by the minute.

When you finally heard heavy, determined footfalls outside, you perked up. The door opened not a moment later, revealing a bloodied Feyd-Rautha, his chest heaving and his gaze dark as he crossed the room, eyes glued to you. There was no time to be scared before he was upon you, cupping your face in both hands as he kissed you hungrily, greedily, sharply biting at your lip. You gasped involuntarily and he was quick to force his tongue past your teeth, exploring your mouth while a hand moved to squeeze at your breast.

You felt a soft hand press against the back of your neck as one of the other harpies held you, her body supporting you as Feyd-Rautha pushed you down. The other moved onto her knees, undressing him quickly before leaning in to lick blood off the side of his face.

He moved to catch her lips in his and you gasped for air, heart racing as hands pulled at your dress. Craning your neck, you saw that Issa was behind you, her hands now massaging your breasts as she leaned over you.

Feyd easily threw Yarina down next to you, the bed rocking slightly. He paused, panting as he stood and looked down at his three darlings, all still clothed while he was bare. His full lips curled into a smirk, eyes raking over your bodies as he crawled over you once more.

“This must go,” he said simply, taking a fistful of your dress and pulling.

One of the others sucked in an excited breath, quickly taking the torn scraps and tossing them to the floor.

Feyd-Rautha dove for your throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses against the soft flesh as his strong arms caged you in. Someone’s hand slipped between your thighs and you opened your legs obediently, feeling slender fingers stroking you as you were prepared to take the na-Baron.

It wasn’t the first time you had all been together like this. After you had settled in and grown more comfortable with the others, Feyd had permitted them to watch as he bedded you. They had both been fascinated by the small amount of body hair Feyd chose to let you keep, and you had been fascinated by the way no one, not even Feyd-Rautha, had touched you intimately without permission, or at least without being expressly told not to.

This wasn’t the first time you had felt those fingers inside you. When the three of you were alone, the others taught you how to please Feyd-Rautha. They had perfected it to a science, and it reminded you of some of the rumored Bene Gesserit teachings you had heard of; secretive, calculated, confident. Always in control, even when it seemed that they were not. You had been surprised to learn that the na-Baron was vulnerable in front of his concubines, shocked, even, by what you had seen when he took them to bed; for he was not always demanding and petulant, but also subservient. The others knew how to give him what he truly wanted and needed, and that was sometimes the permission to be a different man while behind closed doors.

Today, though, that was not what he wanted nor needed. Today was a day for chaos, for Bacchanalia. Today, Feyd-Rautha’s feral energy was driving him into a frenzy, teeth sinking into whatever he could find as he marked you with his bites over and over.

“Yes,” you gasped as fingers pushed deeper into you. “Oh, yes…”

Feyd tore himself away from your neck to devour another’s lips, his hips grinding against yours as a pair of hands wrapped themselves around his cock and began stroking. The bed was a tangle of limbs and the air was heavy with breathy moans, no one quite sure of where anyone ended and anyone else began.

When you felt the head of his cock prodding at your entrance, you moaned, and it came out almost choked. There, surrounded by so many bodies, you felt hot and slick all over, already sweating before the real work had even begun. Your voice was thick in your throat as you begged for him, pleading with him to please fuck you, please use you…and he obliged, because you were saying exactly the right things to make him drunk with lust.

“Feyd,” you whispered, hands searching for him.

“M’darling,” he groaned as he pressed his face into Issa’s neck, the sound guttural and primal.

“Please,” you whimpered as Yarina ran her hands over your front. Your thighs tensed in an attempt to soothe the needy ache between them, but Feyd-Rautha was in the way, like a solid tower of muscle and flesh that refused to give. “Feyd please!”

He was faring no better than you. His cock ached and wept as it slid over your lips, now wet with your own arousal and throbbing with need as blood pooled in your groin. With each teasing thrust of his hips you grew more desperate, breaths coming in whiny pants as you huffed and begged, chest heaving as your back arched up off of the bed.

As Feyd-Rautha allowed himself to be guided into you, he groaned that deep, heady groan, the one that always had you melting and turning to putty in his hands. You gasped at the feeling of his cock sinking deeper and deeper, slowly, until his skin brushed yours and you swore you could feel him in your womb.

When his hips rocked back you let out a strangled moan, and when he pushed into you once more you made a noise that would be considered filthy back on your home planet. Feyd-Rautha had a tendency to bring those noises out of you, and fill your head with thoughts that some would be disgusted by. As he fucked into you with ever-increasing brutality, though, he reminded you why you were so happy living with him now. Looking up into his dark eyes that watched you while his lips brushed over another woman’s shoulder as she held him, you felt nothing but lust and glee and adoration. Sharing him was easy when you were part of a set like this, and when you were all together as one moving, breathing creature.

His gaze was intense. You knew he loved watching you as he pleasured himself with you. Sex was like war for him, each bedding a conquest, each fuck a battle. You were never his enemy, though; you were his prey.

And you enjoyed being caught.

“Feyd,” the harpy behind you called in her hissing voice.

He tore his lips from Yarina’s flesh, leaning over you as his hips continued thrusting, meeting Issa above you. He attacked her hungrily, hands gripping her roughly as his speed movements grew more erratic. You knew he was becoming more and more frenzied by the sighs and moans, his kisses turning to bites. You watched, enraptured, as he sank his teeth into her shoulder, a bead of dark blood running down her breasts and dripping onto your cheek.

Yarina made an excited sound and dove around Feyd-Rautha, intent on licking it up. Before she could, he released Issa, shoving her aside as he snarled at Yarina, hands coming down on other side of your head as he caged you in once more.

She hissed at him, jealous and hungry, moving instead to suck at the wound the blood had oozed from. The na-Baron huffed a ragged laugh, baring his black and bloody teeth as he grinned at them, then down at you.

“You will have your turn,” he said to them while looking at you. “You will never go hungry.”

You knew he was speaking of both literal and sexual appetites, and that he meant it; there was plenty of blood and plenty of him to go around, and he was incredibly good at balancing his attentions between all three of you. Though his concubines were meant to serve him, at times it seemed as though that was achieved by him serving you—ensuring that all of you were happy, proving that you were well cared for in all ways. When his darlings were happy, Feyd-Rautha was happy. You could almost call it love.

His love was harsh, though; as he gazed down at you, you felt as if you were the only one in the universe, drawn in to those dark eyes, and you obediently turned your head and bared your throat to him. He relished the sight, and the willingness, and the vulnerability. He could kill you so easily like this, with his cock buried inside you and his teeth in your flesh. A part of him longed to spill your blood everywhere; you knew because he had said so before.

But he wouldn’t kill you.

You were his.

And he was shockingly gentle with his things, reverent when it came to their care. His knives, lovingly and proudly displayed on the wall, another hidden in the bed in case of emergency, were always sharpened. His favorites were sharpened by him, because he trusted no one else with them, much they same as how he trusted no one else with you.

As his teeth sank into you, he moaned, relishing the feeling of having you there in his jaws. He could crush you if he really tried, if not with his teeth then with his hands. But as he held you close and swept his tongue over the sore mark he had left, you knew he never would. You were safe with him, as odd as that felt.

“You are so beautiful like this,” he breathed as you gazed up at him.

“You are as well,” you replied, smiling at the admission.

He kissed you, deeply and seriously, not a hint of those teeth. It was pure, in a way, just like his care for you was; not pure in the innocent sense, nor the good sense, but pure in that it was simple and primal. It wasn’t evil. It wasn’t overtly just. It simply was.

Then, he nipped at your lower lip, sharply enough to draw blood, and he sucked at it greedily. You felt a tingle in your core, something uncoiling within you. When you brought your legs up and hooked your heels around him, he pushed into you even further, as if he wanted to force himself inside your very skin. When he dropped his head next to yours, you knew he was close—and when he bit into you again, you shrieked, and you knew you were close as well.

“Fuck,” he growled against you. “Move.”

You immediately unlatched your ankles and he pulled out, painting your front in his seed. Marking you as his once more.

He tilted his head as he looked at you. You writhed beneath him, hips bucking as you searched for him, so close to your own end and yet now feeling devoid and empty.

“Shh, pet,” he cooed, reaching between your legs. “I will care for you.”

You were nearly in tears as you watched him, far beyond the ability to speak coherently as he toyed with your swollen clit. His mouth moved to your inner thigh and he bit, drawing blood, leaving a trail of marks. The sounds that left your throat were desperate and wanton, echoing off the high ceiling of his chambers as Feyd-Rautha made quick work of you. Your pleasure was agony and beauty, and as he dragged you down over the edge, your voice felt hoarse from your cries and moans.

Anyone passing by in the corridor would hear.

You did not care.

You would never be ashamed of the sounds you made when Feyd-Rautha pleasured you, and as he bent down to swipe his tongue over you and lap at your wetness, you felt a smug sense of achievement. There was the na-Baron, on his knees, tending to his low-birth, off-planet concubine.

He pressed a kiss to the deepest bite mark. “Exquisite.”

Then, you were gently moved aside, and he began anew with one of the others. Though he was selfish, your pleasure was his, and he worked through the three of you however he pleased, always ensuring you were sated. You watched in fascination as he made them writhe, and when he allowed his own skin to be broken, you sucked at the wound, tasting the strange Harkonnen blood on your tongue and appreciating the fact that you were probably the only person from your home planet to have ever been given the chance.

How strange, the things you appreciated now.

-0-

“Something troubles you tonight,” a rough voice commented.

You turned your head to look at its owner. “Why do you say that?”

“You aren’t in bed with the others.” Feyd-Rautha approached you, coming to stand behind you.

He was right; you had initially found sleep to come easily after a long day of celebrations and feasting, your aching body in desperate need of rest. But after some time you had awoken, and it was impossible to close your eyes again. So you had dressed yourself in a black robe and slipped away, escaping to the balcony window down the corridor.

“My apologies,” you mumbled, looking down at the railing.

His chest brushed your back as his hands gripped your elbows. “You shouldn’t be out alone.”

“I know, but—“

“I was worried.”

His admission made you pause. When you glanced up at him, you saw that he was serious, jaw tense as he looked down at you.

“You were?” You asked, staring at him with wide, black eyes.

“I was.” His voice was stern. “It is not safe.”

“I’ve wandered these halls before,” you said, a hint of amusement in your tone. “Even before I joined you.”

“You were a guest.” He said. “I was your greatest threat then.”

“I wasn’t afraid of you.” You jutted your chin up towards him.

“I know,” he grinned. “When you told how best to spill your guts so as not to ruin the meat, I knew.” Then, he grew serious once more. “I also knew I must have you, and no one else would touch you.”

“No one here would dare.” You said haughtily. “They know better than to play us.”

“That is not what I worry about, my darling.” Feyd-Rautha placed his hands on the railing in front of you, leaning his chin on the top of your head as he looked out over Giedi Prime. “I am the heir to the Harkonnen throne.”

“You’re an important man,” you furrowed your brow. “What of it? Does that not guarantee me protection?”

“You are a target.”

“…na-Baron, I am a concubine, not a bride.” You scoffed. “There would be no reason for any political adversary to—“

“Feyd.” He growled.

“Wh-what?”

“Call. Me. Feyd.”

You gulped. “I-I’m sorry, Feyd.”

“Don’t…” he heaved a sigh, steadying himself. “Don’t apologize, darling.”

He was silent for a moment, and you weren’t sure whether to feel safe or uncomfortable.

“All of Giedi Prime knows how important my darlings are.” He continued. “You are safe when you are with me. But I cannot guarantee that safety when you are alone.”

Feyd-Rautha turned his head, leaning his cheek against you. It was an oddly intimate movement; in fact, the entire situation felt more akin to one that should take place with husband and wife, not murderous na-Baron and concubine.

“I am only a concubine,” you said again, voice small.

He barked a cruel laugh. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

You winced at the harsh sound. “It is the truth.”

“My darlings,” he began, his voice low, anger simmering just below its surface, “are much more to me than simple concubines.” He turned you in his arms, forcing you to lean back against the railing. “Surely you know this…or do you turn your nose up at me?”

You recognized the glint of anger in his eyes and felt panic rising. He couldn’t really think you hated him, could he? “Feyd, no…”

He gritted his teeth as he glared down at you. “The little off-world pet, too good for the likes of the barbarian prince…I know what the Great Houses say about me.”

His hands drifted down to grab at the thin fabric of your robe, grabbing it in bunches as he hiked it up. He paused for a moment and you realized he was listening, for your quickening breaths and heartbeat, and you watched as something in his eyes shifted.

“They call me psychotic.” He nosed at one of the bite marks on your neck. “What do you think, darling? Are they correct?”

“Y-yes, Feyd.” You stammered, both frightened and excited by the game you now realized he was playing.

He made a thoughtful noise as a hand slipped past your robe, fingers finding your swollen, used folds and plunging inside. “What else?”

“Th-they say you are bloodthirsty,” your breath hitched as his thumb brushed your clitoris.

“Am I?”

“Yes, Feyd,” you gasped at the addition of another finger.

A sick smile twisted itself onto his face. “What do they say about me on your home planet, darlin?”

“That you are v-violent,” you steadied yourself with a hand on his bare chest as your thighs trembled. “That you kill without second thought. That you are cruel and crave violence with every breath.”

Some of it you had made up; truly, you had never heard anyone on your planet speak in great length about the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. In fact, most people on most planets probably didn’t even know who he was. But for the sake of his ego, and for the hand between your thighs to continue its work, you exaggerated, and it worked. Despite a long day of fighting and fucking and enjoying spice, Feyd-Rautha was awake, attentive, and ravenous.

“And what does my darling think?” He asked, rubbing your clit as he twisted his fingers inside you.

“I-I think—!” You gasped, eyes wide at the sensation, wetness pooling around his hand, “Feyd—!”

“Answer me,” he purred, amused.

“I think that you are all that and more!” You blurted, tears pricking the edges of your modified eyes.

“Good pet,” he caught your lips in a kiss and focused his efforts on your clitoris, allowing and encouraging you to reach your peak on his hand.

And you did, of course you did. You always finished with Feyd, oftentimes before him. As your orgasm overtook you, he breathed you in, devouring you in his adoration.

As you came down, he leaned back, pulling his hand away and watching your flushed face as he licked the taste of you off of his fingers.

“Delicious,” he rumbled, looking at you with a hunger in his eyes.

Then, he placed his hands on your shaky hips and turned you, and before you had even caught your breath, his cock was inside you for the second time that day. He squeezed your breast as he fucked you, pressing kisses along your spine that seemed far too gentle for the na-Baron, and again, you marveled at the way he treated his darlings.

“Do you see now?” He panted in your ear. “Do you see your importance? Only my darlings do this to me.”

Only his darlings made him so feral and so tame at the same time, because while he bit and tore and raged with you, he refused to truly break his favorite things.

“And you take me so well,” he growled, spending himself inside of you with a grunt.

Feyd leaned against you, pressing a kiss to your temple. You felt comfortable there, within the safety of his body. Nothing could harm you when you were with him; you were one of his darlings, and now, you were certain that he adored you.

“Come,” he said, pulling himself out of you and straightening up.

“Bed?” You asked as he easily swept you into his arms, carrying you back to his chambers.

“A bath,” he decided. “Then bed, with the others.”

And you smiled as he held you, so secure against his chest. Feyd-Rautha was everything you had said and more—he was a lover, as well, in his own way.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #dune #dune x reader #unheavenly creatures

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ladylaviniya · 6 months ago

Note

Okay, if we confessing things about Apollo (Blood of Zeus), I have to tell someone my fantasy bc it burns my inside. I want him to fu*k me in his original height, when he is so tall and strong and big. When Zeus hugged Heron's mom in the Underworld it was so good to see the height difference or when Apollo was standing beside Heron. It's still a manageable size but to think about the stretch, the pain and pleasure combo and him being super excited that you would do this for him. Like Gods usually downsize themselves when having sex with a mortal but in this case his lover would express this wish to have him in his original size and it would turn out in this way is more comfortable for him. Maybe the lover is his priestess or something and this happens in one of his temples. (sorry for the confession, I have just seen your post about Blood of Zeus Apollo) This is of course not a request but if it interest you I would be curious of your take on this story if you would ever wanna write this or anything else for Apollo.

I love that you dare to write dominant/submissive or master/slave relationship. We need a super dark Apollo fic where his priestess is super submissive and wants to serve him well so this is why she asks him bc she wants him to be comfortable and he just goes with it.

This is so embarrassing please if this is not your taste just ignore it.

Blood Of Zeus: Apollo’s Pythia

Story Synopsis: You serve the god Apollo since he has threatened to bring a plague upon the people of Delphi.

Pairing: Apollo X Priestess!reader

Story Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Vaginal sex, Humiliation, Size kink, size difference. Mentions of Loss of Virginity, Loss of Innocence, Ancient Greek God Mythology, Mentions of Animal Sacrifice, Master/Slave dynamic. Mostly Porn without Plot.

Authors Notes: Inspired by the song Still Don’t Know My Name by Labrinth. This was requested by @annievvv7 and I am considering writing a prologue and another chapter for when the reader is on Olympus. A Pythia is what they called the priestess at the oracle of Delphi.

The sounds of grunting and sucking of wet flesh echoed the marble walls of his temple.

“You’re thinking too much, my sweet little pythia,” The God of the sun whispered into your neck, his bright glowing hair tickled and blanketed your face and chest. His warm, large palm trailed down your soft belly and dipped between your trembling thighs. His agile fingers discovered your sensitive clit and rubbed gentle circles. His touch was so light and heavenly.

“Relax for me, your god.” he cooed.

He had you nude and spread open for him, your white chiton toga was pooled in a pile at the foot of his altar slab along with his glittering cape.

The stone beneath your back was stained in dark crimson from the countless goats that had been sacrificed in his name. At his command, you were at his mercy, vulnerable and obedient to his will. His presence alone was intimidating and his gaze pierced through your flesh as you were exposed, awaiting his words and commands. You were priestess of the temple of Apollo, you were raised to serve his will...even if it meant forgoing your vows of purity.

Apollo was correct, your mind continued to float away from his attentions. He saw it as strictly a challenge to bring back your focus to him and what he was doing to you. His two fingers, long and thick, carefully pressed inside your body.

It had been a month ago when you made the deal with the divine being. His threat was fearsome and you would not test him. It was a difficult decision, you had decided to save the people of Delphi by becoming his soul bounded slave...because he had promised if you denied him...you and the people of Delphi would face his wrath that would wrought a horrible plague.

You hadn’t known at the time of the deal that he had wanted your body in such a intimate and humiliating way. Upon your first time, Apollo had been domineering in inflicting his power...it could have been worse- you did bleed and you did try to fight him off, but he let you live and he granted you a merciful pleasure you had never known existed when you finally submitted to him. When he had come to you, you were a delicate virgin...now you were his desperate whore.

Your religion was strict with abstinence, you had even taken a sacred oath for Apollo as his representing pythia. Never did you truly believe he would be the one to take your purity. He said it was his rite to fuck you if not any other man. There was no questioning a gods rite.

Apollo’s fingers curled, brushing that spot inside you that made your vision blur, and it tore you from your thoughts as you arched into his palm. You made a pathetic whine and gurgle.

“Oh blessed pythia, you honour me,” he purred mockingly, his golden irises flashing as he looked down at your sweaty body. He drew his fingers out, holding them to the light to see how they gleamed before he licked them clean with his devilish tongue. Your lips parted and chest still heaved catching your breath. He smirked and bent down to steal your mouth in a hungry kiss, the taste of yourself on his lips made your core throb.

You pushed against his shoulders and gasped, “My lord, please lay down upon your temple floor...”

His brows lifted, “Making demands of me? Your god?” he still smirked, “Little pythia, I could punish you for such insolence.”

But he wouldn’t...he liked playing too much with you, especially when you were forced to grant the people their future among the oracle practice. The absolutely naughty things he would say to you, knowing you'd find it hard to answer the poor soul who merely wanted to know their fortune. How he would truly humiliate you and make you feel breathless by the day was done.

Your face was dishevelled in total lust, licking your lips, you pushed his shoulders again and felt his hands lift you by the waist carefully down from the altar until your bare feet touched the cold floor.

He crouched down and sat on the ground. His face was levelled to yours. You were by no means graceful but it did not stop his desire for you. You stood astride his thighs, your palms on his shoulder attempted to push him back. He let you.

Laying nearly flat on the ground, he balanced his upper back on his elbow and forearms. He tilted his head at you. You had to sit on his legs and pelvis to perform, or else the strain of your human legs would hurt more than the pleasure you’d hope to gain and provide.

You mewled desperately, reaching between you both to take purchase of his intimate member. It hung like a fucking horse, harden like a stone pillars rising up. A soft carpet of golden hair covered the base of his masculine appendage. His skin was still as gloriously golden and dark beneath his waist tunic kilt. You wondered if he had bathed himself nude in the pure light of the sizzling sun. His hard cock jumped in your hand, the veins pulsing against your palm. The God was huge, larger than any human man you had ever seen bathing in the springs.

And for some dumb reason you had insisted he be like this, his natural height and size instead of shifting into an average sized man. He was your god and you were his priestess, his pythia. You wanted to keep him pleased.

You reached between your thighs and rub the wetness there to bring it up and wrap around his cock. He gasped, amused and curious. Did you truly intend to take him at this size?

His large hands bent around your waist, digging into the skin of your soft bottom.

“Careful,” he murmured, “You greedy thing.”

You leaned forward, lining his thick bulb with your small opening, admiring the glitter in his golden gaze he held on you. His fingers ran up and down your spine encouragingly. When you rolled your hips forward you scrunched your face up preparing for the almighty stretch.

Your lips parted wide open, a horrible groan bellied from your mouth as you sank yourself down every inch of his unhuman length and thickness. You tried not to think about the possibility of it being the same size as your own forearm.

A low moan rumbled through his entire body that made your insides jump in delight and tingle. Apollo was happy to let you have this control, but he never took his eyes off you, never shut them. He knew the resentment still in your heart, the aching darkness for revenge. Of course if you tried to strangle him, stab him, even slit his throat he would not die, it would just hurt and perhaps piss him off.

You keened and whimpered, your body trembled as your lower lips pressed down to his soft pubic fuzz. For a few moments you were totally still. Tears streamed down your cheeks. He was impressed. His lips parted. You were admirable, trying so hard.

He moved his hands around. One thumb pressed to your sweet nipple and another to your clit, rubbing circles against them both. You gasped and felt your walls clamp down around him. He coaxed you through the pain, blooming inside you a new pleasure.

Apollo’s starved eyes travelled over your entire body, his eyes trailing low to the land where you both connected as he waited for you to move.

Carefully with your hands shaking on his chest, you lifted a little with a hiss, to roll down and sit perfectly again on his cock, letting him slide deep inside. You both groaned. It was exactly what you needed. The pressure of his cock, the feeling of being flooded with his cock so deep and entirely you couldn’t think of anything else but of your god creating this divine match.

You rode him very slowly. He let you lead at first until he grabbed your waist and jerked his hips up.

Submissively, you braced your hands on his strong glowing chest, feeling the smooth and tight muscles beneath your fingers, you rocked your hips back onto him, hunting the ultimate pleasure that was so quickly approaching, giving him everything you had. His eyes roamed from your face and your breasts, watching the way they moved as you practically bounced on his mighty rod. When he could feel your body growing weak and exhausted, he held you tight against him and began to thrust his hips up, slamming into you.

“That’s it, little pythia.”

He bowed his head, taking your tit and nipple into his mouth. He bit down, sending a shockwave through me, bringing your senses back momentarily. You gasped out loudly, your walls clenching. Your nails dug into his biceps. He sucked the nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirled and he hummed with delight at the sound of your noises. His fingers rubbed harder into your clit. Your soft whimpers began begging as he pushed harder up into you. Your lips pressed just above his ear while he sucked.

“You enjoy this my sweet slave?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer. Your sweet tears fell onto his shoulder.

“Yes my lord Apollo,” you whimpered, your toes curled and your fingernails dug up into his long blonde mane. You could feel the tsunami beginning to creep up your spine, your body surrendered to him.

“Then show me! Release your praise,” Apollo ordered, his voice a growl in your ear. It was too great. The bold bright light exploded behind your eyes. You screamed into the side of his neck, sobbing as the wave of desire broke the band.

Your muscles strangled his pulsing cock. Limply you sagged against his body while he steadied his thrusts and dragged the last few out, thrusting hard down once as he flooded your womb with his golden cum. His lips brushed softly against your cheek. He was slow and kind as he lifted you up and off of his cock. Your insides felt bruised.

He held you close to his chest, reaching out for his cape. It was like a wave of glittering white and gold. Like shining white sand, warm and comforting on your wet skin.

He covered your body in it, before lowering you to lay on the marble floor.

He eventually pulled out, and you could feel his seed start to leak out down your thighs and drip onto the cold floor. Your lips parted and your legs closed, embarrassed. He chuckled and kissed your salty sweat drenched forehead.

“You look so beautiful with my cum inside you.”

Apollo’s finger gathered the escaping slickness and pushed it back into your spent body, causing another shaky moan to slip from your lips.

“Best not to waste it.”

You trembled and boldly reached out to him. Tendrils of his long mane were combed through your fingers. So soft and smooth. He smelt like the morning, sweet dew and the warm springs. He cradled you in the crook of his arm, his skin was a great warmth along with his cape. His hand petted your body, trailing his finger tips up and down as you combed his hair softly. Come the rising sun, he would be gone again. He would speak to you daily through the oracle bowl, but you would not feel his powerful body until his next visit.

“Will I see you again?” You croaked, “Next month? Will your duties allow it my lord?”

Apollo was calm. Spent. He was pleased and relaxed. His cock had softened. His palm rested on your belly.

“No.”

Your face fell slightly. You couldn’t believe it but you knew you would miss him, his teasing touch.

“You will see me everyday...” he purred and kissed your cheek, “I have decided, you will return with me to Olympus.”

Your mouth fell open, your eyes widened. You didn’t know what to say.

“But my duties? I am to read the oracle and-”

His brows lifted, his hand pressed your hands above your head, his other finger pointed at your chest squarely.

“Your duties are to serve me, or did you forget the oath you made to me so quickly?”

With a fluttering heart and regretful fear you shook your head, “No, no my lord master. It’s just...what will I be if not your pythia?”

“My slave...my bride maybe...”

He bent down and pressed his mouth to yours before you could say anything further. He redressed himself as you sat up, stunned in silence.

“Br-bride?”

He smirked, and held out his hand to you, “Come with me my dear slave.”

You took his hand and he carried you to his summoned chariot. You would reach the city of the gods and we’d the great Apollo. God of the Sun.

#dead dove do not eat #apollo blood of zeus #dubious consent #dead dove fic #apollo #blood of zeus #blood of zeus fanfic #apollo x reader

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calicoheartz · 7 months ago

Note

So ready to be fed tonight 💛

I was wondering if you could do a jealous!Caitlin x reader that's maybe slightly suggestive? It's okay if not !!

Green Eyed Passion ; Caitlin Clark ⟢﹒

summary : jealous! caitlin x reader 🫣

wc ; 773

warnings : very suggestive , read at your own risk.

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : anon , you have just been served a full course meal. This was sooo fun to write!!! enjoy besties ◡̈

Caitlin is used to being confident in herself. As an extremely talented and successful basketball star, she had no trouble attracting and dealing with unwanted attention. However, when she started dating you, a young and attractive individual who had a captivating personality, she found herself facing a new emotion: jealousy.

It all began innocently enough. You had been dating for a few months, and everything seemed perfect. You rarely argued, had little disagreements, and most importantly you shared the same interests. Never failing to make eachother laugh even in the worst of situations, it was obvious that you were each other’s person.

But one evening, as you both were attending a team event, Caitlin couldn’t shake the feeling of this rather unfamiliar emotion.

You however, were in your element. A dimly lit bar filled with different characters from all walks of life, it fascinated you, you absolutely adored engaging in conversation with others. Your charisma drawing in people like moths to a flame, your eyes sparkling in every animated conversation you found yourself in. Caitlin however, watched from the sidelines; simply smiling politely as she watched admirers approach you to strike up simple exchange.

Her mood, however, quickly soured when she noticed you talking to a fairly tall, and attractive figure. A little bit too close for Caitlin’s pleasure.

She continued to watch you from across the room, how your laugh echoed, how close you two were, stirred up feelings she didn’t even know she had. Trying to shake off this feeling, she joined a group of her other teammates, trying to take her mind off of you and your seemingly interesting conversation. But she couldn’t help but keep stealing glances at you and this mysterious stranger, immediately being stung by a wave of jealousy.

As the evening went on, Caitlin found herself being more and more isolated. She tried to engage in conversation with you, but to no avail. You seemed distracted, with your attention constantly drifting back to the figure.

Finally, unable to contain her jealousy, she approached the both of. Simply grabbing your wrist and muttering a “Sorry, please excuse us”, as she quickly dragged you away to a secluded area inside the bar

“What's going on?” she asked harshly, clearly trying to mask her jealousy. You took a step back, clearly confused on what she meant, “huh? What do you mean?”. She furrowed her brows at your response, clearly unsatisfied with your answer. “You know what I mean y/n. What is going on?”. She glared at you, her 6’0 frame overpowering yours as she simply corned you against the wall.

You smirked, now realizing why the brunette was acting so strange. She was jealous. It was very rare for Caitlin to act like this, and the outcome would only lead to one possible scenario. You were about to get your shit rocked.

You bit your lip, simply batting your eyelashes at her, sweetly saying, “i don't know what you mean, baby”.

Ohhhhhh shit. That did it. If she wasn't turned on before she definitely was now. And to be fair she wasn't the only one, you could feel a slight stickiness in between your thighs.

As if it was second nature, she captured your wrist, not even saying a word, and dragged you out of the bar and into the passenger seat of the car.

Even on your way back home, not even a slight glance was given to you, her knuckles as white as your bed sheets as she aggressively gripped the steering wheel. You knew you were fucked. She knew you were fucked, now what is going to be done about it?

As soon as you arrived at your shared apartment she immediately pinned you against the wall, her hands immediately finding their way into your locks, intertwining them in between her fingers. With one free hand, she caressed your face, as she slowly started to place wet kisses on your chest, leaving soft love bites in the process. You let out a small, but audible moan at her actions, letting her know to keep going. She slowly kept going down until she reached your collarbones until she abruptly stopped. You pouted, cool air quickly hitting your flesh where her lips had once been seconds earlier.

She gave you a sly smile, lowly muttering

Why would you start something you wont be able to finish?

omg okay woah that was intense !! definitely will write more content like this in the future.. 😏 tysm for reading lovelies !

#wlw #caitlin clark #headcannons #my hcs #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #wcbb #wlw imagine #caitlin clark x reader #suggestive #kate martin #hawkeye #22 #paige bueckers x reader #wlw post #wlw love #iowa wbb #wbb

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written-in-flowers · 5 months ago

Text

His Goddess: Demon!Yunho x Fem!Reader

Pairing: incubus!yunho x fem!succubus!reader x incubus!hongjoong | side pairings: demonline x reader

Genre: Smut, fluff

Word Count: 10k

Summary: Yunho is a man of strong will and principles. Work comes first. Schedules come first. Yet, when it comes to The Mistress, he is willing to throw it all away to worship and pleasure her.

Tags: demon au, master/slave dynamic, mutual pining, body worship, facesitting, bigdick!yunho, switch!yunho, footjob, voyeurism, exhibitionism, threesome, m/m/f, bisexual sex, lesbian sex, bisexual reader, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m and f. receiving), double penetration, spit fetish, panty fetish, cum swallowing, facial, cream pie, mentions of violence, mentions of human sacrifices, masturbation, mutual masturbation, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, reader is a hoe and so is everyone else.

Previously on Pretty Lady > Next

Pretty Lady Masterlist

***

The key to being a good Head of House is knowing the masters. Yunho knew their daily schedules backwards and forwards. Each of them woke up at the same time, ate at the same time, went to work and came home at the same time. They took tea in the open-air garden on Fridays, went out to dinner on Saturdays, and slept in on Sundays. Yunho never missed a beat. He ran the meal services like clock work, counting down the minutes on his pocket watch. His masters never complained, and everything worked as it should.

However, it all came to a head when you arrived. At first, you followed the same schedule as your masters. It was easy enough with Yeosang as your chief handler. Yet, one day the masters tell him you’re no longer their plaything. You are Lady YN, Marchioness of the Trees, a Lady of Eden, and Mistress of the Black Keep. This meant another set of likes and dislikes to learn, a schedule to follow, and a person to serve. Yunho expected you to follow a similar regimen as your former masters.

You didn’t.

Yunho never knew what you’d do for the day. With no employment, you didn’t need to wake up early. You never knew what you wanted to eat or drink. Wooyoung only made recommendations on your wardrobe, and you did your own hair and makeup. No schedule to maintain, you simply lived off your moods. You might go on a shopping trip, go to the salon to get your nails done, or walk about town with Jongho and Mingi. You may sit in your room all day, dancing or listening to music or read books and fashion magazines. Yunho never knew what to expect, and that annoyed him.

The only consistent thing he knew was you visited your greenhouse in the mornings, checking on the plants and feeding Octavius. After you saw the masters off to work, you’d go with Jongho to the greenhouse. He’ll admit since you took over, the gardens appeared much more vibrant and lively. Octavius, formerly Dennis, and his offspring wanted for nothing, which kept the damned creature out of his hair. You’d been against feeding Octavius slaves from the city or disobedient servants. Instead, Hongjoong brought you scum from the lower dungeons to give to them. Certainly suffocating to death or being torn apart by vicious sentient plants was a worse fate.

“You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when I met you…”

He heard you from the entrance of the massive greenhouse. Your clear and resonant voice flowed through the branches and vines high above, accompanied by Hongjoong’s radio. Yunho only had to follow the sound down a path of bright flowers to find you near one of the mossy fountains. You danced along the edge of the stone pool, where water lilies and lotus flowers floated in the currents. He swore the lotus flowers glowed a faint pink light. Yeosang mentioned you’d been working on your botanical abilities. You knew how to regrow and speak to them; you could control their growth and patterns as well. But, that was about it for now. Watching you from afar, he understood the masters’ fascination and infatuation with you.

You’re beautiful. You’re lively and glowing with life. Even in Hell, where misery and despair go hand-in-hand, you didn’t let it touch you. Being around you felt like being in a different time. Yunho grew up around the old-fashioned ways of his ancestors. You brought new music and culture to the Black Keep. He heard the maids saying things like “that’s bitchin’” or “take a chill pill, dude”. One of the younger footmen told him he had an “awesome bod”. Your carefree attitude and free spirit became contagious. Yunho liked it. It made his masters and staff happy, and that made him happy.

“Don’t-Don’t you want me? You know I can’t believe it when I hear that you won’t see me-”

“-Mistress, your breakfast-”

“Don’t-” you whipped your head to him, dramatic and fierce, “Don’t you want me?”

“Mistress-”

“-You know I don’t believe you when you say that you don’t need me…” you stalked over to him, bobbing your head to the music. He found it quite comical. “It’s much too late to find. You’d think you changed your mind. You better change it back or we will both be sorry! Don’t you want me baby?! Don’t you want me ohhhh oooh-”

“-Mistress,” he laughed as you bounced around him, “I have your breakfast.”

You continued singing to your plants. He noticed the glowing lotuses brightened to the tune of the song, various pinks and whites in the dark water. A new ability, he assumed. He placed the breakfast tray on a table nearby, then turned back to you. You were breathtaking today. Not because of your tight high-waisted shorts or the blouse that flattered your shape. The light in your eyes, the carefree way you sang and danced around made you beautiful to him. He sometimes thought he might be in the presence of a goddess, a being higher than himself who came to bless him with her beauty.

A beauty he appreciated every night through a peephole.

“Thanks, Yunho,” you smiled, catching your breath. “Is it Cook’s egg bowl?”

“With potatoes, scallions and bacon bits as requested,” he nodded. “I took the liberty to brew you a dark roast this morning. Jongho mentioned you favored it over the medium we normally brew.”

“Aw, Yunho,” your smile gave him butterflies. Watching you come over to the tray, you fixed your coffee, “You’re so sweet.”

“I’m only doing my job, Mistress. It’s my duty to make sure you’re always comfortable and happy.”

“Or Seonghwa will feed you to Octavius?”

“It is a scary punishment,” he joked back.

The fact that he’d made you laugh brought out a smile. “Ooop,” you giggled over your steaming cup, “I did it.”

“Did what?”

“Make the Head of House smile.” You hip bumped him, “Don’t be such a statue. You’re cute when you smile.”

“I can smile,” he excused. He never realized it until he met you that he rarely laughed. Not that he can’t joke around, he could. His job simply took up too much time for that sort of thing. He took a look around to see if he caught Jongho anywhere. “Where is Jongho? He is meant to be here with you.”

“He’s with Yeosang,” you said, walking over to a swing made of branches and flowers. Sipping your coffee, a tangle of vines pushed the cart over to you and you started eating. “They're bringing more lights.”

“More lights?”

“Hongjoong wants to take pictures of me,” you said. “Did you know he does photography?”

“It is one of his hobbies.”

“His least sexual ones,” you noted, scooping up more egg and sausage. “I was looking around for a book in his room and I found his portfolio. He takes really good pictures. I mean, most of them were people in bondage or lingerie, but still tasteful. I asked him about them and he told me he likes to do it from time to time, so he said he wanted to photograph me.”

“You'd make a splendid model, Mistress,” Yunho said, trying not to notice your lips around the spoon. Did everything you do have to look good? “Will you be needing anything else?”

“Not right now, thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

He bowed, and then left. Then, he saw Master Hongjoong come through the greenhouse doors. He noticed the black duffle bag and camera around his neck.

“Morning, sir,” Yunho stopped to bow.

“Morning. Is YN here?”

“As always.”

“Good. Make sure nobody disturbs us for now,” he said, adjusting the camera around his neck. “I don't like being interrupted.”

“Of course, sir.”

Hongjoong walked down the garden path, and an idea came to Yunho. Lunch service wasn't for a while. His staff all knew their duties and knew the penalty for falling behind. He could spare a few minutes.

Waiting until Hongjoong disappeared, he went down the opposite path around the greenhouse. He still heard the radio playing, soon followed by Hongjoong’s voice. Hiding behind a lattice divider of flowers, Yunho saw you and Hongjoong through the holes. It reminded him of the ones back in the keep: small concealed holes he'd cut into walls and paintings to spy on people. He'd originally done it to keep an eye on the staff, but he soon learned it came with other benefits. He'd grown fond of watching the masters with their servants. Watching their hard bodies rut into the soft forms of their partners aroused him to no end. The idea that they had no idea made him harder. Eventually, Master Seonghwa discovered these holes, and began enjoying them as well. Now, it was his favorite thing. H

e stood against the divider and watched you pose for Hongjoong. The photos started off innocently enough: you posing with flowers and on the edge of the fountain in various angles, and slowly removing clothing in each shot. Blood rushed to his core when you knelt naked in the fountain. Flower petals clung to your wet skin in places, and the glowing flowers added an ethereal mood to it. You might be a goddess emerging from the pool, covered in the flowers you loved so much. You could be offering him your body in exchange for his undying faith.

Hongjoong stopped snapping photos when he could no longer control himself. You sat kneeling in the pool, thighs spread as vines crept up your body. Yunho’s jaw dropped when one of them slid into your mouth. You truly are a sinful sight. How could anyone expect to resist you? He stood there, hot around the collar, and observed. Hongjoong unbuckled his jeans, pushing his hips to your face as the vine slithered down your body. By the stifled moans, your vine had entered you. Yunho let out a soft sigh, unable to look anywhere but at you.

You should be worshiped. You are an exotic nymph who comes to seduce and ensnare him. He'd gladly step into the water if it meant tasting your lips, regardless of what happened after. He knew he could have you now, if he wanted. No longer a pleasure slave, you could seek out others. He'd let you collar him right away. He groaned softly when Hongjoong tapped his cock on your tongue, sliding it up and down before pushing back into your mouth. Yunho began rubbing the tightness in his trousers when you spread your legs for Hongjoong. He watched the redhead set you on the dirt and slip into your warm cunt. He had a view of where you both met; the mere shadow of his thick cock filling you had Yunho stroking himself soon enough.

It was when you rode Hongjoong that he came. You arched your back so your round ass stuck out. That way, he saw the hard cock stretching you. You looked so beautiful this way: hair tousled, body shimmering with sweat and your pussy wetting the dick inside you. He couldn’t help imagining you opening your mouth as he jerked himself over you. You'd catch every drop; his offering to his divine goddess. Yunho gripped the wooden divider in front of him as his body contorted to his orgasm. In quiet, restrained moans, he spilled his cum all over the floor. Your own orgasm came shortly afterwards, coming in time with Hongjoong’s upward thrusts.

“Open your mouth for me, baby,” Hongjoong ordered, moving to stand over you.

‘Cum in her mouth,’ Yunho thought hungrily. ‘Cum in her slutty mouth.’

He did. What he loved more was you licking Hongjoong clean. Yunho took deep breaths, tucking himself back into his pants when he noticed. Hongjoong's tip in your mouth, you glanced over to his hiding spot. He swore you made direct eye contact with him. You slid your tongue up and over the bulb of Hongjoong, sucking whatever remnants you'd missed the first time. He needed you. He needed to fuck you senselessly; he needed to worship and pleasure you.

“Can we keep going, Master?” you asked innocently, stroking Hongjoong. “I haven't been fucked in such a long time. I can't stop now.”

“Give me those pretty lips and we can definitely go again.”

Yunho ended up watching each hot, sweaty, dirty round. He'd never cum so much before. You truly must be something divine.

A goddess.

*****

You realized you enjoyed teasing Yunho. Not only did the butler give adorable flustered looks, but his squirming contrasted his stern, professional appearance. It reminded you of Yeosang, who kept his composure even in the face of your naked body. You'd been sure that when he spied on you in the greenhouse, he'd come and taste you himself. But instead, he stayed hidden the entire time. So, you decided to signal him in other ways.

You spent a whole week eating creamy cakes and tarts to make white messes around your mouth. Yunho swallowed thickly when you locked eyes with him. He'd watch you lick the cream from your fingers or wipe it from your mouth with fascination. You thought for sure he'd give in then. Everyone else did. Instead, he’d offer his handkerchief, a white cloth embroidered with gold thread.

You then tried a more direct approach. Yunho often came by your room for status reports from Jongho and Yeosang. Since discovering this, you often entangled yourself in the pair right before he showed up. He stayed to watch only once. You saw him drool over your bouncing breasts, and bend a little to catch them both inside you. You begged him to join, but he stayed silent. Couldn't he tell how badly you wanted him? When this didn't work, you started simply walking about the keep naked, especially in the servant areas. While you let other servants have their look, it was Yunho you focused on. He liked your tits, you knew that much. He'd bit his inner cheek when you allowed cream to drop from your chin to your breasts.

He. Did. Nothing.

Yet, his resistance only made you want him more. With his long limbs and broad body, Yunho stood out from the rest of the servants. You knew many female servants found him attractive, and you agreed. His curved horns came from the sides of his head, and in the right light you saw the silver bands gleaming around them. His tail, skinny and long, had another band right underneath the arrow-shaped end. Seonghwa explained to you that children of Mammon, Prince of Greed, often adorned themselves with silver or gold. He told you off-duty Yunho wore silver earrings and piercings. You doubted you'd ever see “off-duty Yunho” since Yunho worked more than anyone else in the Black Keep.

Which is where your teasing came in. Out of all the servants, Yunho shows the least interest in sleeping with you. Aside from your first time with San, where he'd watched, the house manager kept his distance. He only really served the lords, since Jongho and Yeosang are your personal servants. But, as time went on in the keep, you began wondering if the incubus avoided being alone with you. Maybe he didn't enjoy sex the same as the others; he might be more spectator than performer. That did leave a smudge of disappointment, since you found Yunho’s puppy-dog eyes and large hands attractive. Now that you can sleep with whoever you like, you want a slice of every pie and cake in the place. He had plenty of opportunities to indulge in your pie, but did not.

You wondered what made the butler tick. Yes, trying to coax him into your bed might be a bit messed up, but you knew he wanted it. You could tell whenever he saw you naked; whenever you showed him your tight sex being filled by someone or bounced your tits on purpose, his eyes lingered there until he remembered his place. Trying to get him only made you ache for him more.

“Linette?”

Linette, a succubus of 180 years, was one of the younger maids in the house. Tight brown curls hung around a heart shaped face, with pouty lips made for kissing. Her golden brown skin glowed from her beauty and her kind’s natural radiance; almond eyes batted long lashes that gave off an innocent appearance. In her black and white uniform, you understood the males’ fascination with her. She'd finished ironing one of Seonghwa’s shirts as you approached her. She stopped at once, and stood up straight. Thankfully, only you two occupied the scullery.

“Yes, Mistress?” she asked in her soft voice.

“I had a question, and I don't want anyone else to know,” you began.

“I swear anything you say in confidence will stay with me,” she said quite proudly.

You moved closer to her, “Where are the peepholes?”

“The peepholes? I-I don't know what you-”

“-I know you know,” you said. “All the servants do. You must have looked through one before. I know they are in the secret passages around here, but which rooms? What parts of them?”

She fiddled with the end of her apron, clearly torn between honesty and lying. “They're mainly in the bedrooms,” she finally admitted, “But there are some looking into the study, the music room, the main library, the lounge and a few other places.”

You snorted amusedly, “You know where all of them are, huh?”

She turned away shyly. “All of us do, Mistress. It's a sort of recreational activity around here.” She stepped to you, “I can show you where they are, should you wish to enjoy them too?”

“That’d be awesome. Where’s the first one?”

Linette escorted you around the keep. The first peepholes hid inside paintings around Hongjoong’s apartment: one looking into his bedroom and another in his dungeon. She then took you to the one in between books in the library, the two peeking into the lounge, one looking through a mirror in San’s personal gym, several in all the bathrooms, one inside a low painting in Seonghwa’s music room, and one peering inside the kitchen. She then took you through the dimly lit passages to a room you knew very well.

Your bedroom.

Linette explained yours is the newest, most popular one. You suspected this much whenever you caught a footman or a maid looking at you. Seonghwa mentioned it a few times to you, but you didn’t think too much about it. The possibility someone might be watching you intrigued you. You never minded in the brothel. Most of your work happened in the main room regardless, so you’d shed a lot of your shame since then. As she guided you away from your bedroom peephole, a sudden noise caught your attention. The last hole happened to peek into your dressing room. No doubt many servants watched you undress in here, seeing your body in a casual setting. Curiosity got the better of you, and you stopped to remove the painted corn plug.

“Fuck…”

A rush of warmth went over you when you saw him. Leaning against one of the dressers was Yunho. Head tilted back, you saw his pants pooled around his ankles and his shirt lifted up from his narrow hips. The softly defined abdomen tensed each time his cock twitched. Your mouth watered at the sight of him. It salivated more when you saw what he jerked himself with: a pair of red silk panties. Lightly, he rubbed your panties over his throbbing length. He lowered his head to watch your panties snag on the head. With his free hand, he stroked the clothed tip until the silk became sticky with precum.

“Wow….” you breathed softly, seeing him whimper at this new maneuver. “He’s bigger than I’d first thought.” You remembered the last time you’d seen that dick. It looked delicious even then.

“Hm?” Linette walked back to see what you’d found, and she giggled softly. “Oh yes. Yunho is pretty big.”

“I think I’d have to do size training with that,” you smirked at her.

“He really likes that.”

“And how do you know?” you crossed your arms and grinned.

“We’ve…We’ve done it a few times.”

“Really?” you gasped, intrigued. “What was it like?”

“Amazing!” she said, happy to see your positive reaction. “He’s so considerate and comforting. He’s more gentle than Master Hongjoong or Mingi, for sure. When I do it with him, it’s like the first time every time. He does have a fascination with panties, which I’m sure you can tell already. He likes to make me cum inside mine so he can keep them.”

“How often have you done it?”

“Not too often. We’re both really busy, but sometimes, you know, those pent up feelings come out.”

“Does he do it with only you or others?”

“Just Mingi and myself. They’re very close, and he knows I won’t tell the other servants.”

“Are you guys, like, a thing?”

“Not really. Yunho’s not the dating type, and neither am I. We like to keep it casual with no strings attached.”

“Huh, no labels. I get that. I wasn't the dating type either. I never found anyone worth dating in the first place.” You looked back into the peephole. Yunho’s hips began moving forward, his hand jerking him faster as he grew closer to his release. “He must taste so good.”

“He does,” she confirmed. She then giggled, “I mentioned it to him once, and now he cums down my throat whenever we do it. He says he likes seeing my mouth full of cum.”

“Dirty girl,” you looked back over to tease. You started liking Linette more and more. Not only was she as beautiful as you, but clearly didn’t mind speaking frankly about obscene subjects. “If only he'd let me get a lick. He wouldn't regret it.”

“Yunho has pretty strong willpower. He won't be as easy as the others.”

“Psh, tell me about it,” you rolled your eyes. “I've been sending very obvious signals, and he just stands there and jerks off. Sometimes he straight up runs away from me. I don't get what I'm doing wrong.”

“Nothing, I'm sure. Yunho isn't really like other demons. Sex takes a backseat to everything else.”

“Clearly.”

Your sex throbbing between your thighs, you watched Yunho’s body tremble as he came. His hand gripped the dresser behind him until the knuckles turned white. He fucked his hand as if it were a real hole, squirting into your underwear while he imagined your cunt instead. Or, did he fantasize about your mouth? Your ass, perhaps? You were dying to know. A distinct wetness pooled in your panties as Linette led you out of the passageway into a room you’d never seen before.

A room made of gray marble, steps in the floor lead into a pool of crystal clear water. Circular, the mosaic piece at the bottom resembles a lotus flower in white and gold. Not exactly big, it could fit a good number of people should there be a party.

“We have a pool?” you asked Linette in surprise.

“We do. You’ve never been here?”

“No, I wasn’t aware we had one. It looks great.”

Your body flushed with heat from your arousal, you untucked your polo shirt from your shorts and flung it off. Linette stood by as you undressed yourself, picking up the pieces on the floor. Once you were naked, you looked over to her.

“Linette? Care to join?”

The question caught the maid off guard. “Oh, me, Mistress?”

“It’s cool if you don’t want to,” you told her. “I know not everybody’s into girls and boys. I’m sure if you went and asked someone else, they’d be up for it.”

She shyly stepped over to you, “I’d like to do it with you very much, Mistress. The men aren’t the only ones who peek into your room sometimes. Your beauty truly is unique around here, and you’re…a goddess.”

The thought that even the female servants desired you pumped up your ego a bit. Moving over to her, you held her by the hips as you brought her in for a soft peck. Lips plush like petals, their warmth and taste drew you in further. Kissing down her long neck, you untied her apron and tossed it aside. Heavy breathing flowed between you as you stripped her down, gasping when you saw her supple tits inside a white lace bra. Pert and supple, you took her dark nipple in your mouth to hear her softly gasp.

A part of you knew your kisses fueled Linette’s arousal, the woman eager for more of you. Yet, you couldn't help yourself. Sex became such a big part of your life in Hell, that you can't go without it. All the oppressed feelings in your natural life came loose in your afterlife. You wanted to sample everything like a kid in a candy store.

Linette let out a soft moan once you cupped her round ass, whimpering when you spread them. This. How did anyone expect you not to hunger for this? Especially with so many fine specimens around? Her desire became clear when she grabbed your ass in return, squeezing until you moved into her. No doubt the low water surface teased her smooth sex like it did to yours. She moved her hands to palm and sucked your tits while you groped her ass. The drug coming from your lips fueled the flames already burning between Linette’s thighs. The scent of mixed spices clung to your nose, and you hungered for more of her.

You’d laid her against the steps, kissing down her stomach when the door opened.

“Linette, there you are. I have been looking…for…you.”

Yunho stood in the doorway, dazed by the sight by the pool. It took him a minute to realize what he’d walked into, and you thought he’d walk right back out. Yet, he remained frozen a few feet from you. His eyes cast down your wet bodies, and he gulped. Keeping your eyes on him, you sucked on one of Linette’s breasts. The light brushes of her hands down your sides created goosebumps. Yunho stayed stock still as you both kissed and caressed one another. His attentive stare burned fires that you couldn’t douse out. His presence made each of you want to do more and more. You expected him to eventually give into his desires and at least stick his hand in his pants, but he never did. As you and Linette took things up a level, Yunho only spectated. When Linette turned you to face him, your back to her chest, he didn’t move a muscle. Seeing her begin rubbing your pussy, you thought surely he’d cave. Maybe he preferred his women to be clothed? He did absolutely nothing when you pressed Linette to the top steps and fingered and licked her. He might as well be watching a TV show by how much he reacted.

Yunho stood by as you sisscored, your sensitive cores sliding up and down each other. Both of you realized you’d get nothing from the only man in the room, so you came together in front of him. Seeing you both breathing deep, collapsing on the smooth floors, Yunho only nodded.

“Well done,” he said. “I quite enjoyed that.”

“You did?” you asked in disbelief. “You’re not even hard.”

“I can control myself, Mistress. Someone in my position can't indulge whenever we please,” he replied simply. He said this, but you knew he wanted it. “I assume Linette won’t be joining the dinner service?”

“She’ll be indisposed, I’m afraid,” you answered, crawling over and kissing her softly.

His eyes lingered on your nude, wet body. You angled yourself to let him have a full view, knowing he’ll save it for later with another pair of panties. When his eyes wandered to Linette, and his attraction to her became clear. Linette, who must be a kindred spirit, did the same as you. Yunho, unlike any other incubus in the house, coughed and bowed his head to you. He left the room, but you knew the image stuck with him as he walked out.

You and Linette laughed softly at his reaction. The two of you stayed in the pool for a while, talking and occasionally kissing. You learned Linette is the youngest maid out of the entire staff, which makes her the most sought after by the masters and others. She’d been born into a poor family, distant relations to Prince Beelzebub, Prince of Gluttony, and she started cleaning houses at a young age. Not everyone, she told you, became pleasure or house slaves. A good chunk of low-ranking demons worked in the houses of the elite as maids or butlers.

“Like Yunho,” she said, drying herself off. “He’s a great-great-great-great-great grandson of Prince Mammon. He had a bit of money, and his father had a title but he’d squandered most of it in the gambling dens. Yunho became a butler to pay off family debts at first, but then he joined The Black Keep when he befriended Master Seonghwa.”

“You know a lot about him, hm?”

She smiled shyly, “We do talk socially and after sex in his room. He’s so intelligent and wise. I’ve learned a lot from him since I’ve been here.”

“Aw, you have a crush.”

“No, I don’t,” she shook her head, laughing.

“That smile’s telling me different,” you teased in a sing-song voice. “Is he your type?”

“Tall, smart, with big eyes and a huge dick? He’d be anybody’s type.”

You and her laughed. You liked Linette, you decided. After this, she became part of your own “staff”: Yeosang managed everything (despite pretending it annoys him), Jongho tended to you personally, Mingi guarded you, and sweet, pretty Linette handled the cleaning and serving. It felt good, you realized, to have a group to call yours. Sure, they served you but not out of obligation. You didn’t have many friends in Hell.

They felt like home.

****

“Don’t leave me,” you murmured into his ear, slowly drawing out of your grogginess. “Stay here.”

Hongjoong’s soft giggle cut the silence, “I wish I could, Pet. I really do.”

You wrapped your arms around him from behind, and nuzzled his neck. You’d spent the night in Hongjoong’s bed, cuddling and talking as you both drifted to sleep. His job in the lower dungeons exhausted him, and he’d wanted comfort rather than sex. Turning over, he pecked the side of your mouth to avoid another sex-inducing kiss.

“Just pretend it’s still night time,” you said, recalling a scene in your favorite Shakespearian play. “Everyone else is asleep, and the moon is still in the sky. You don’t leave for a few more hours,” you kissed his cheek and snuggled to his side. “Stay here.”

“It’s morning, babe,” he picked up on your playful banter. “Yunho’s going to come in here soon and draw back the curtains. You can’t sleep with the sun shining on you. It sucks.”

“No, it’s nighttime,” you said. “He’s too busy banging Linette to come in here.”

The comment pulled Hongjoong out of the conversation. “What? With Linette?”

“Don’t tell anyone,” as chatty as Hongjoong is, he can keep secrets. “But, they apparently hook up sometimes.”

“Ooh, where?”

“I guess wherever they’re both at?” you said, pushing red strands from his face. “She was showing me all the peepholes, and we caught him jerking off in my dressing room. That's when she told me.”

“With your panties, I’m assuming?”

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve dry humped him while wearing women’s underwear before.” You should have expected a lewd story. “I swore he came twice from it,” he chuckled, bringing you closer under the warm blankets. “I was trying on some stuff I’d bought from Wooyoung during my cross-dressing phase-”

“-You had a cross-dressing phase?-

“-Obviously, yes. Everyone has one,” he said quickly, “And he caught me. I asked him if he preferred the black lace or the violet satin, and he said he couldn’t choose between them. With a bit of flirting, I wore each one to see which made him cum harder. He likes satin or silk. He says they get wet easily, and he can feel it.”

“You never wear panties for me,” you flicked his shoulder.

“I didn’t know you liked that,” he said.

“I’d like to try it sometime.”

“Do you want a dress too?”

“Let’s start off with panties and see where it goes, yeah?” you both laughed, and you clung to him. “So yeah, Linette and him fuck on occasion. We fucked in that secret pool you have that nobody told me about, and Yunho walked in. Can you believe he wasn't even hard?”

“Yeah, I can. Dude's an enigma,” he said. “He can get hard and soft on cue. I have no clue where he'd learned it from, but it can be useful in certain situations. I don't think even your charms would work on him.”

“They didn't.”

“And you're disappointed,” he cooed, “Aw, the little slut didn't get the dick she wanted.”

“I haven't done it in a while.”

“You told me you did it with Linette.”

“That doesn't count.”

He paused, “Would you, you know, do that again? With another woman?”

“I might. It'd be somewhere way more comfortable though,” you kissed his shoulder. “Yes, you can watch through a peephole or something.”

“Psh,” he said, “The peepholes are for the servants. We get the two-way mirrors.”

“Hold on,” you said, shocked, “Two-way mirrors?”

“Yeah. The servants don’t know because they’re pretty well hidden in the walls,” he elaborated. “They’re not in every room, but most of them. Haven’t you noticed there’s mirrors in rooms where it'd be kind of odd to have them?”

“No, obviously.” Then, the thought came to you, “You have them in my rooms, don’t you?”

“Naturally,” he said. “I really enjoyed watching you and Jongho the other day. I didn’t think you’d be the dominant type.”

“I’m typically not, but I don’t know,” you idly traced his collarbone, “He’s so cute and submissive already. I couldn’t help it.” You then asked, “How would I know you’re there?”

He gave his wicked smile, “You don’t. That’s what makes it hot.” He skimmed down your side, reaching around to grab your ass, “One of us could be watching and you’d never know.” He reached down to kiss your breast, “So, feel free to touch yourself in front of one. You never know who's watching.”

“How spine tingling.”

A light knock at the door pulled you both from your heated world, and Hongjoong called for them to enter. Yunho walked into the room with the familiar sherry glass of cold serum. All the heat that built up fizzled away when you saw it. He must have guessed you’d try luring Hongjoong into sleeping with you. Either him or Seonghwa, you’re never sure. Hongjoong rolled onto his back and you rested on his chest. You both wore pajamas to bed, so you only felt him through the shirt and shorts he’d worn. A part of you longed to drag your clothed sex over the bare limb until you came all over yourself, but you knew better.

“Morning, Yunho,” he said in a hoarse voice, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Morning Master, Mistress,” he bowed his head. “Cold serum, sir. Master Seonghwa thought you might need it.”

“Of course he did,” he huffed. “He just wants her to himself,” he wrapped you tightly in his arms and kissed your forehead.

Since losing your slave status, you didn’t have to adhere to quality time days with your lovers. You mostly did to avoid them fighting over you, but if you preferred San over his brothers one night, they couldn't argue. They thought you never noticed the sneaky tactics they’d use to get you into their beds instead. Their small spats amused you; it made you feel desirable and important, two things you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I suppose I will,” he grumbled, leaving the bed and taking the small glass. He downed it in one gulp, hissing from the cold syrup in his mouth. “I hate that crap,” he said. “I’m already going to the coldest place in Hell. Now I gotta walk around with this stuff in me.”

“Master,” you whined, reaching to his back to trace his spine, “I can warm you up.”

He laughed, “Yunho should have brought you one, naughty girl.”

He turned to kiss your cheek, narrowing avoiding your attempt at kissing his lips. “It won’t work anyways,” he said, catching on to it. “Cold serum’s pretty strong.”

“Even for my kisses?” you lifted your shirt up your stomach to the bottom curves of your tits.

“Especially those,” he said, reaching underneath to roll a nipple between his fingers. He smirked at your clenched thighs, “I have toys, baby. You can use those.” He smiled when he kissed beneath your breast, “My needy baby. You’ll get to have it later, I promise.” He raised your shirt over them, and took one in his mouth. The gradual whirls around the middle added to your growing arousal. “Go to your greenhouse if you’re so horny,” he pulled away. “Your little plants don’t say no to their mistress.”

“But I want you,” you pouted, sucking on his thumb. “I’ve gone too long without you in me.”

“I know, baby,” he said, forcing himself to leave your side. You normally spotted a bulge by now, but not this time. Cold serum really did its job. “And you can have it later, like I said. Stop being a whore and get up.”

The insult only aroused you more. Hongjoong sensed this and laughed, “You like it when I degrade you. And people say I’m a slut. Here’s what you’re going to do then,” you gasped when he grabbed your pussy, mushing it with his fingers, “I'm going to go shower. While I'm gone, I want you playing with this lovely pussy of yours. By the time I'm done, I want you ready to cum for me. If you aren't ready before then, I’ll have to punish you. You do remember what I did during your last punishment, don’t you?”

“I do.”

He’d taken you close to orgasm multiple times before simply stopping. You remembered the frustration of him pressing a toy to your pussy only to deny you an orgasm. He’d gotten you dripping over his sheets before he left for “a snack”. The longest thirty minutes of your life with Yeosang instructed to keep you edged until he returned. Your household manager’s degrading remarks only took you closer, as well as the slaps to your cunt.

“And we don’t want that to happen again, do we?”

“No, sir.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

“Keep playing with myself until you come back.”

“Good girl.”

Hongjoong kissed your cheek then left for his bathroom. With a soft click, you knew he’d locked it to avoid you going after him. You couldn’t fight off the irritation in you. Glancing over to Yunho, you wanted to see if he’d cave this time. Two women might be too much for him. Sliding your shorts off, you kicked them in his direction.

“Mistress?”

“You like watching, don’t you?”

“Um, well, I suppose. Master Hongjoong said he didn’t want you doing…that until later.”

“He said to hold it until he came back,” you lifted your knees and spread them, putting yourself on display. In just your panties, Yunho could only see the outline. Yet, he did fixate on the spot of wetness blotting the white cotton. Wetting your fingers, you started rolling your clit in small circles. “I can’t help it sometimes,” you whined, the tight sensation pulsing in your walls, “I get so turned on. I’m sure you know how that feels?”

“I do, actually.”

“Even when you watch me?” you giggled at his stunned expression, “I know you do. You like watching me,” you wet your fingers again to rub your clit softly, “You like watching my pussy get stretched out by a big dick. Is that your favorite thing to watch me do?”

“Mistress, I don’t think this is very appropriate,” he said, gulping as he still looked at you. “But, if you must know, I enjoy watching you on top.”

“I knew it,” you gasped as you lightly brushed your hand over your clit. “It’s because you get to see them inside me, huh?”

“Yes,” he answered as if you’d asked a normal question. “Your moans also change.”

“Do they?”

“They do. You’re fully on top of it, so their cock is directly pushing on that sensitive spot inside you,” he said. “I quite enjoy hearing the long string of moans you give when you’re first on top. Sometimes, I see you get into a particularly heated moment and bounce on it right away.” He stepped forward until he reached the bed. Even having him right beside you pushed your arousal forward. He chuckled, “Or your partner holding you to them as they fuck into you hard and fast; your ass rippling and slapping against them each time just gives me a certain feeling.” His vulgar fantasies stirred more pressure, but you pulled away. Yunho let out a long breath when you pulled both sides of your underwear to the middle, isolating your clit and wetting the fabric more. “Mistress…” he breathed, his hand resting on your knee, “Oh, Mistress…”

“Yes?” you breathed out, using your finger to tease the hard nub. The long fingers trailed down your inner thighs back and forth, while he admired your wet underwear.

“May I watch you?” he asked.

“Only watch? You don't want to touch me too?”

He let his fingers draw further down your thigh. “You're offering me the privilege to touch you?

“I am,” you said. You recalled what Linette said. She'd called you a ‘goddess’. “I only give that to so few people.”

“Then I truly am lucky,” he said. He lifted one leg and sat on the edge. Facing you, he stayed between your ankles to keep touching you softly. “I could watch you do this all day if you asked it of me.”

“You really like watching, huh?” you giggled, finding his kink humorous at this point.

“It's like watching porn in real life,” he said. “I get to see your body move and bend to the passion burning inside you up close. I can see your cunt,” he said, taking a deep breath, “And how wet it gets. You are…..Divine, Mistress. I never miss an opportunity to look at you in your most intimate moments. It's like coming across a rare bird. You take in as much as you can because you might not see it again.”

“Except you see me way more.”

“Not nearly enough, in my opinion.” He massaged the backs of your calves, and said, “Keep touching yourself, Mistress. Let me look.”

“With my panties on?”

“If I may keep them afterwards.”

“I have plenty,” you settled yourself against the pillows, rubbing your foot on his crotch, “So yes.”

Yunho then sat on the edge and watched you tease yourself. He let out a deep groan when your foot started sliding up and down his crotch. His eyes, however, stayed on your hand. The slight pressure hardened against the curve of your foot, and you knew he enjoyed it too much for you to stop. You should consider wearing stockings next time. When you pulled your panties aside to show him, he undid his trousers and pulled himself out for you. Heavy breaths joined soft whimpers as you teased his cock and yourself for him. Your toes rolling over the tip, applying a mild bit of pleasure made Yunho hitch a breath. As you did this, Yunho ran his hand from your toes to your thighs each time. The gentle touch tickled slightly, but you sunk too far in pleasure to take it in. You giggled slightly when he took hold of your ankle to guide your foot on his length. His cock grew harder against the sole. You guessed he really could separate himself from his desires.

Until now.

Eventually, he withdrew his bare length for you to continue teasing. You turned your foot inward and stroked him on one side. Yunho gripped the edge of the bed, whimpering at the light touches. He gave a particularly breathy moan once you found his balls inside his pants. You found his grinding into your foot too erotic to ignore. Your clit pulsed against your fingers as Yunho surrendered. He propped himself up on his elbows and let you have more access to him. When he looked over to your center, you spread your other leg to give him a better view. You caught a trickle of drool in the corner of his mouth, which he licked up right away.

He suddenly pulled you over to him, your lower half between his legs. Anticipation bubbled at the closeness between you. Putting your soaked underwear back over yourself, Yunho angled his cock to slide under it. His thick tip pressed to your swollen clitoris, passing over your entrance each time. The smooth cotton of your panties became see through with your juices, which made it stick to Yunho’s shaft. The both of you whimpered and moaned at the teasing. He sometimes popped out of them to tap and rub from the outside. The light slapping became wet the longer he rolled himself around, and you started wishing he'd stick it in already. Each touch sparked sensitivity that made you wriggle between his thighs. Locked by them, you could only grip his black pants as he teased you.

Yunho’s mouth dropped when his cock accidentally slipped inside. You whimpered feeling the head pull in and out slowly. Suddenly, your entire body felt on fire, buzzing with electricity at the same time. The desperation for more couldn't be satisfied. Withdrawing, you saw his dick glistening in the morning light. His lips parted in each moan and eyes full of longing, he made such a beautiful, erotic sight. Pictures of him pounding you into the bed formed a hard knot in your groin. His tip didn't feel enough anymore. The torture made you rut against Yunho, angling to slide further down.

“Shall I go deeper, Mistress?” he asked, pulling out and spreading your juices around. “I only aim to please you.”

“Yes,” you sighed, “Yes, go deeper.”

Yunho lifted your legs up and maneuvered himself to be on top of you. You held onto his shoulders as he slowly entered you. Having him buried in your cunt sent new waves up your body. Legs shaking, toes curling, you clawed at his shirt sleeves as he rocked back and forth. The feeling of his girth stretching you became an instant obsession. His heavy, larger form towering over yours, you could only lay there under him. Gradually picking up the pace, your mind started spinning. The orgasm you’d been ordered to hold might arrive early after all.

“Oh, Mistress,” Yunho breathed in your ear, hands on your breasts and lips on your neck, “You feel heavenly.”

His lips and hands went down your body as much as the position allowed. Yunho memorized each part of you. You could feel him pressing his thumbs into the plumper parts, and kissing every patch of skin he reached. He sought to learn every pleasure point, every little tick and moan that escaped you. You brushed your nipples into front of his vest, enjoying the smooth satin against the hard centers. He squeezed and sucked them for you, then held them to let you enjoy the sensation. Yunho truly did wish to please you.

“Go faster, Yunho,” you said, a plea in your voice. Your hands going through his soft black hair, he obeyed your command right away. Soon, his hips slapped against yours, the position forcing your hips a bit higher. “Yes,” you breathed, head digging into the mattress, “Just like that. Please, keep going like that. It feels so good!”

“Anything for you, Mistress,” he inhaled. “Anything.”

You brought him to your lips, pecking the pale skin there before whispering, “Then cum in my mouth. I want you to cum in it the way you do for Linette.”

“Of course,” he panted, pushing harder, “I’d cum nowhere else. Consider it an offering.” He pinned you by the wrists and went deeper, “An offer-offering to my goddess.”

“A generous one,” you gave a breathy laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist to lock him in place.

Lips parting in every moan, his eyes closing, you knew he’d cum soon. You could almost feel him twitching against your bumpy walls; he’d finish any minute if he kept going. Your own orgasm bubbled in a pot deep down, your juices trickling out in every thrust. When he began his steady pace, his head pressed right to your sensitive core again. The both of you filled the room with your groans and moans, nearly crying and screams the longer it took. You did not even notice the other person in the room.

“Is my little pet close?” Hongjoong appeared beside you in his towel. “Hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you cried in time with Yunho’s hips. “So fucking close. Please, let me cum, Master. Let me cum all over it.”

“Hm, I’m not sure,” he pondered. He sat next to you, and Yunho knelt upwards to give his hand room. Fingers rapidly moved over your clit side to side, you clung to his wrist as you wriggled around. “You look so pretty like this. Your pussy all drenched, panties doused in your pussy juice and precum,” he hummed, “Looks delicious. I don’t think Yunho wants to stop any time soon either, do you?”

“I’ll go as long as my mistress wishes,” Yunho said, holding your knees as he bottomed up. “But, no, sir,” he said, watching himself go in and out, “I don’t want to stop. She feels incredible.”

“She does,” Hongjoong agreed with his mischievous smile. You loved and dreaded that smile. “Keep fucking her,” he settled beside you, removing his towel to reveal a semi-hard cock, “I want to watch up close.”

Yunho did as ordered and continued at the same pace. Occasionally, Hongjoong spat where you met to wet you further or hold your panties aside for Yunho to go deeper. When you felt yourself about to burst, Hongjoong made Yunho stop and pull out.

“It’s so wet,” Hongjoong said, holding Yunho in his hand. He used your combined fluids to stroke Yunho slowly, keeping the butler on edge. “Come here.”

Hongjoong knelt up to Yunho and kissed him deeply. You laid there, shuddering from your denied orgasm as the two men kissed. “How come you’re not naked?” Hongjoong asked, unbuttoning Yunho’s vest and sliding it off him. “YN should see the hot bod you have. It’s to die for.”

“She wanted me to keep them on,” Yunho gasped. He let Hongjoong undo his shirt and remove it to reveal his slim torso and hard nipples. He bucked into Hongjoong’s hand as the latter sucked on them.

“And I want you to take them off.”

Yunho laid back on the bed to let Hongjoong undress the rest of him. Completely naked, Yunho’s body was no longer restricted by his clothes. Hongjoong continued stroking him and kissing his nipples until you crawled to the foot of the bed. Both of you on either side of him, Yunho lost himself in a blissful whirl. Two hands toying with his throbbing cock, two pairs of lips kissing and sucking up and down his chest, and two cores rutting into his strong thighs made him wild.

Then, you did the thing you probably shouldn’t have: you kissed each of them. Since he’d drunk cold serum, you didn’t think your amatory would counteract the potion’s strength. Hongjoong remained mostly soft the entire time, his arousal maintaining mainly a mood rather than a physical need. Yet, as you slid your tongue over his, the soft muscle gradually turned stiff. He let out a low, hungry growl that shifted the tone. His dry humping became more frenzied and his kisses became sloppy and deep. Yunho’s already horny manner inflamed your kisses.

“Suck my cock,” Yunho begged you. “I want to feel your mouth around it. Both of you.”

Neither you nor Hongjoong spoke, but instead went down his body to the aching cock. Hongjoong’s hand keeping it straight by the base, the two of you licked up and down each side. His dick, fully erect, twitched whenever a tongue flicked the head. You kissed it between your mouths, tongues sliding around to touch one another. Droplets of clear liquid were caught by either of you each time Hongjoong squeezed them out. You moaned once you saw Hongjoong sink the tip into his mouth. Little by little, Yunho filled his mouth until Hongjoong hit the bottom. The sight of Hongjoong’s mouth sucking the thick muscle made you gulp. He drooled over the head, then used his spit to coat it completely. When it was your turn, Hongjoong licked around the balls underneath, sucking softly while you worked Yunho’s dick. Yunho held onto every ounce of strength in him to not stick himself deep in your throat, but you knew he wanted to.

It went higher when Hongjoong kissed down your back to your ass, which he smacked out of pure habit. Lifting your hips, he buried his face into your dripping cunt and immediately attacked your clit head on. Yunho grabbed your hair to start sliding up into your face. Saliva and more precum gathered around your lips, turning white as Yunho used your mouth. You couldn’t focus on anything else except them. All you wanted was to fuck both of them forever, enjoying them however you could.

They grew more excited when you moved to straddle Yunho. Hongjoong held him straight to help you slide the thickness back in your tight cunt. A constant flow of moans came once you were full. Hongjoong locked Yunho’s thighs with his own, wrapping his arms around you to help you ride Yunho, who’d lost all sense by now. Unable to move, Yunho surrendered to the pleasure.

“I don’t think Yunho will be able to resist his goddess after today,” Hongjoong taunted, pinching and rolling your nipples. His surprising strength had you bouncing from top to bottom smoothly, “Show him what he’s been missing, love.”

Hongjoong released you and you lost all control. Whirling your hips, Yunho moved around inside you. You rode Yunho until you both shuddered and quaked together. But, you didn’t want him to stop. You couldn’t let him stop now. Forcing yourself to climb off him, you rested on your side and Yunho took the signal. His larger body encompassed yours, pushing your leg up high as he fucked back into you. The desperate hunger became clearer. One hand gripping your tits, the other worked your clit. Hongjoong sat next to you, watching intently as he stroked himself. Right as your pussy started clutching his cock, Yunho withdrew and replaced his cock with his fingers and tongue.

Head locked in your thighs, Yunho’s fingers abused your g-spot until you screamed his name. Cum shot out of your pussy into his mouth, each spurt making you more and more sensitive. Even when you finished, he aimed for another orgasm. Pulling you onto his face in a single roll, you clawed at the head board as you rode his tongue. You twitched each time it hit your clit, enjoying the spark it brought and feeling it fuel your desires. Yunho, controlled by his lust, had no trouble tossing you onto your back once again.

“Yunho,” you breathed his name, squeaking when he grabbed your ankles and pinned your knees to your chest. “God, keep going. Keep fucking me. Please.”

Yunho’s long fingers went in and out quickly, your wetness creating a slick slapping sound. He hungrily sucked and licked at your clit every so often to bring you to another orgasm. At the second one, you jerked and bucked as it hit you hard. The underwear he’d refused to remove felt sticky and moist. He readjusted them to the side before replacing his fingers with his cock. Your lips turned the reserved Yunho into a feral animal. You loved it. Pulling his hair, you brought his face to your breasts to force your nipple into his mouth. His moans tickled the supple flesh, his tongue swirling around it while he fucked you. You kept his face there as he brought you to a third orgasm.

Yunho gave a few final thrusts as you came down, then straddled your chest. His tip inches from your mouth, you opened wide to let the stringy streams grow thicker and shoot onto your tongue and lips. His low groans came from deep in his chest, pushing through gritted teeth in each growl. His body constricted, muscles and veins in his hands showing. It finished in subtle shudders, the last bits dripping directly into your throat. You let him see the pool of cum in your mouth before you swallowed; the sight made him stick his tip between your lips to milk the rest.

You moved your hands to the front to stroke him. He rocked through them and to your mouth. Once you had his dick in your hands, you couldn’t get enough. You wanted him to get hard again. You needed him to. You went too long without it. Right when you took him in your throat, something long slipped into your sore pussy.

“I can’t help it,” Hongjoong said. “Just keep sucking him, and I’ll dump it in you.”

You adjusted yourself for more room, arms wrapped around Yunho’s thighs. Having both mouth and sex plugged up, you gave them free usage of your holes. Nothing felt better. Hongjoong’s high, cracked moans became haggard and whiny as he came. The hot sensation you loved more than anything filled your sex. Hongjoong always fucked it back into you, hardly letting any of it come out onto the bed.

Your saliva wore off soon enough. You could tell in the way their muscles relaxed, and they grew steadily quiet. Each of them fell onto the bed, resembling puddles of jelly rather than men. While they recover, you let yourself sink into exhaustion. You became aware of the fluids on you, and you used the covers to wipe what you could with limp arms. As you wiped your chin, a long-fingered hand reached out to you with a handkerchief. It smelled of butterscotch, sweet and faint on the cloth. Yunho. You saw him inches from you, grinning sleepily as he wiped you down. You stayed still to let him continue. Another hand reached your thighs, cinnamon wafting from where Hongjoong laid. He kissed your thighs, sliding his hand tenderly over your gushing pussy.

None of you said anything. You did not need to. Yunho pecked your cheeks, your nose and neck while his fingers danced along your side. Hongjoong laid passed out near your feet, dead as far as the world was concerned.

“You really think I’m a goddess?” you asked curiously, not sure whether it was sweet words said under heated passion.

“I do,” he said. “You must be one to be Lilith’s blood for certain. Whenever I see you, I find it hard to look away from you. It’s been that way since I first saw you. When I saw you standing in the sitting room, the fire behind you, wearing that ridiculous succubus costume, you enchanted me. I kept my distance because you belonged to my masters, but now…I don’t believe I can stay away.”

“I wouldn’t want you to. Who else will worship me then?” you teased, which made him laugh.

“Plenty of people around here already do. Though, I won’t lie and say I wouldn’t be the first in line.”

The two of you giggled, and you finally gave into your exhaustion.

*****

“You’re telling me you drank a serum, and when YN kissed you, you got hard again?”

“Yup.”

Hongjoong knocked back his afternoon drink in one shot. He poured himself another from the small wicker table. Tea time on Fridays gave them a chance to talk outside of the house. Hongjoong didn’t particularly care for it, but it’s part of the regular weekend routines.

“I don’t know if that means the serum was weak or her potency is that strong. It was,” he huffed, “Insane. I just wanted to keep going like a damn rabbit. The shit’s addictive. I mean, you should’ve seen Yunho. He got harder than me. I didn’t think he could do that.”

Hongjoong watched his brother rub his chin. His “thinking face”, San calls it. “We’d need to test it further.”

“Hey, she’s not a test subject,” San, sitting in the middle, cut him off. “She’s YN. She might’ve been our slave at one point, but she’s not now. She’s my Darling and I won’t let you poke at her like some kind of lab rat.”

“If she isn’t interested, then I won’t do anything, but she must be curious. I know I am. I know you two are too.” He straightened up in his chair, no longer interested in the spread beside him. “Maybe I can call that slaver from the Scarlet Silk. He can bring something for us to work with.”

“If YN wants to, that is,” he said.

“Yes, of course. Do you know if she’s awake ye-”

“-I think we’re alone now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around,” your singing voice came from behind a nearby hedge. “I think we’re alone now. The beating of our hearts is the only sound-”

“-You have a lovely voice, Mistress,” Yunho’s voice came after. “Where’d you learn to sing like that?”

“I started singing with my mom, then I guess working with Yeosang helped too. Don’t tell him I said that, though,” you told him quickly. “We used to sing together in the garden all the time. Oh, hey,” you came from around an entryway with a smile, “Here you guys are.”

“Afternoon, Darling,” San grinned. “You look beautiful today.”

You wore the yellow wrap-around dress today. Wooyoung’s collection of 80’s fashion impressed you greatly, and Hongjoong liked the change. All of your changes delighted him. The keep felt so dead and cold. You’d brought life back into the house, and he couldn’t help admiring that.

Maybe you are some kind of goddess after all.

***

A/N: talk about smut from end to end lol we're finding out more about Lady every day. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give it a reblog and a like <3

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho ateez #ateez yunho #yunho x you #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #pirateeznet

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 5 months ago

Text

NATIONAL ANTHEM- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Rich! Peter x Country Club! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You work at the local country club as a barcart girl and you run into your crush, aka the son of the richest man in town-Peter Parker. Simple flirting becomes something... more.

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing, drinking :)

i'm your national anthem, god, you're so handsome- take me to the hamptons, bugatti veyron... he loves to romance 'em, reckless abandon, holding me for ransom, upper echelon -national anthem, lana del rey

Money is the anthem, of success- so before we go out- what’s your address? You hummed along to the sweet melody as it trickled out of the old stereo from your cart, speakers crackling slightly.

It was a hot summers day, you felt a little bead of sweat drip down the back of your neck as you breathed in the fresh air, smelling of fresh cut grass and fancy colone. It was days like this when you were most busy on the golf course, barley able to squeeze in a lunch break before someone came up to you, begging for a whisky sour.

But today you had tucked yourself away in a little hidden spot, a perfect view of scenery, the green hills stretching on for miles.

Sipping on a sweet ice tea from your straw you fiddled with, you watched as Peter Parker braced himself before swinging, club hitting the ball with a clean wack! before thudding down near the hole.

The wind rustled the flag and the fabric of his polo shirt, hair ruffled under his baseball cap.

You tried not to stare but it was impossible.

The way he smiled was intoxicating, and the way he laughed at his friends jokes… god you hoped to make him laugh like that someday.

Though he was almost four years older, the two of you had met during your freshman year of university. You weren’t close, but you werent strangers either. The odd hello was said, a smile and a passing glance in the library from his books.

Now you were practically about to graduate and he was working on his masters, his school out of state. He was home for the summer though, which was nice.

It just meant you could possibly serve him, which also made you anxious beyond belief because that meant you had to talk to him again. You took a bigger sip until you heard the straw suck up the bottom of the glass and the melting ice to ease your butterflies.

Wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck- I said can we party later on he said yes, yes, yes!

Another deep breath.

He walked in your general direction, but you doubted he could see you. You prayed the low hanging branches covered you, or at least your face. You tried to look out at the rolling hills in the distance, admiring the scenery.

It was very out of your element, but you couldn’t deny the fact it was beautiful here. The ever so fancy country club estate glimmered in the sun, tall hedges trimmed to perfection with roses blooming in the gardens.

You could just see the tall fountain spilling water down, next to the tennis court. Sometimes you worked the bar there, or handed out water and towels, but you preferred being a cart girl.

It made your life much more interesting, to drive around and to see more people. Today you got to see your favourite person.

And apparently he got to see you.

The branches rustled and got pulled to the side, a buff, 6’4 man staring down at you. “Hey sorry, am I bothering you?”

You almost choked on your straw as you bite down on it. “No, no sorry I was just on my break. But how can I help you?”

“Oh shit my bad, I’ll leave you to it-“ He went to turn away, then stopped. Whipped back around.

“Wait- Y/N? Is that you?” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah hey Peter.” you smiled.

“Jeez it’s been a while! I missed seeing you around. How’s life been?”

He missed you?! No, he missed seeing you. That’s different. Get a fucking grip woman.

“I missed you too! Or- wait erm… It’s been good! How’s life at Warner?”

His eyes brightened as you stumbled over your words, pleased you remembered where he was.

“It’s good. Super good. Lots of sunshine, and I’ve made some friends.”

“Not failing anything I hope?” you teased and he laughed.

“No, no I would never. But it’s good to be home for the summer. How’s your program going?” he asked, taking off his hat to run a hand through his messy hair, slicking it back from falling back into his eyes.

You tried not to stare at his arms but it was deemed impossible. His shirt fit him so well, his biceps strained in the fabric as they curled, and you could see whispers of a tattoo on his one arm. Jesus Christ.

“Super good. Almost finished, actually. Not sure what’s next, but working here has helped pay for most of it.”

“That’s awesome, you should be so proud. You’re a hard worker Y/N, seriously. You’ve always been.”

You almost melted at his praise, sinking deep into your seat as your tennis skirt fanned out across your thighs. There was no way he didn’t know about the effect he had on you. He had to know he drove you crazy.

“Thank you so much Peter. It means a lot coming from you.” You beamed.

“Awh shucks. Well anyways, I just came because I saw a cart over here and was going to snag a drink, but if you’re on break I won’t bother you.”

“No, no don’t be silly. What can I get you?” you scrambled up, popping open your cooler filled with ice and drinks. “You’re sure?” he asked, standing closer to you, to see what you had.

You squirmed, shivering even though there was no breeze. “Of course. I’m practically done it anyways. Happy to help.” you smiled, trying your very best to be professional and not look at him like you wanted to rip his clothes off at this very second.

“Just a Heineken please doll.” The pet name was going to make you spirial. Jesus. “That’s all?”

“That’s all. I’m easy like that.” You grabbed a cup, scooping ice before pouring the chilled beer. “Here. It’s on the house.” you handed it to him, setting down the empty glass. He shook his head, fishing into his pocket.

“Don’t be silly. Here-“ he handed you a hundred and your eyes widened in surprise and shock.

“For your troubles.” he smirked. “Peter- I can’t, I can’t take this.”

“Then take this too.” He pulled out a tiny slip of paper, crumped as if it had been in his pocket for some time. You opened it, revealing his phone number in fancy writing- the cursive that reminded you of your grandmothers. A little smiley face was printed next to it, which you mirrored back.

“Have you just had this in your pocket in case you bump into a girl?” you asked, laughing.

“I found out you worked here and I wrote it down, waiting until I had an excuse to bump into you. Now I have one.” he winked, lifted his glass in a cheers motion before turning around, emerging from the forest to jog up to his friends.

You watched him in disbelief, jaw slack on the ground. You fought to pick it back up, trying to not crumple the paper anymore as you held onto it for dear life. A wave of giddiness washed over you, your body hot to the touch, head spinning. Clutching the paper to your chest, you sighed.

Simply hoping something would actually come out of this.

For once in your life.

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

Something was coming out of this. Key word, was. Lines were blurred, and you weren’t sure if it was currently happening, could’ve happened, or had happened.

It had been a week since the original occurrence, when he had you nearly swooning and begging at his feet. Each day was a little game the two of you played, who could spy on each other first.

It had you picking up extra shifts, just to possibly see him that day, or for longer. The past few days you had worked at the bar by the tennis court, watching the ball bounce back and forth until a familiar face found his way to your bar, despite the fact he was on the opposite side of the property, and had bar carts at his disposal.

It made you feel like a teenage girl again, kicking your feet at the slightest interaction. If he wasn’t at your bar, he had found time to walk past your station (which was always very much out of his way), just to give a little wave, or to check up on you.

A few little texts had been exchanged, nothing more then simple, harmless flirting. That’s what you were telling yourself, and that was the story you were sticking to. Nothing more then that. So whenever he came over to fiddle with the straws, or suck the lemon wedge dry without making a face just to prove he could, you smooshed the feelings of need deep down, as much as you could.

Today was no different.

It was hot, one of the hottest days of the summer. You fanned yourself with a clipboard, thankful for the first time you were working in the bar by the tennis court, where it was air conditioned.

You didn’t understand how people could continue to play as if their life depended on it in the hot, beating sun. It was torturous to watch. You were extremely busy, barley getting a moment to sit down and rest your poor, aching feet- dozens of people swarming the bar for a cool drink.

Ice had to be refilled two times already, and you presumed it would be another two times before your shift was over.

“Busy there eh?” a familiar voice called from across the counter, and for the first time all day you were genuinely happy to serve someone.

“You again! It’s almost like you’re stalking me, or something.” you teased, quickly dropping everything you were doing to go over to see him.

“Something like that. Hey listen, I have a question to ask you.”

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it, I swear. The cops have nothing on me.” His eyes widened in mock surpise and his hands went up in surrender.

“Woah. Jeez, I’ll let them know. I have no idea how you found out I was working for them but I guess my disguise is shit.”

“It is shit. I’ve been keeping tabs on you to give you tips on how to be more discreet.” He laughed, swatting you with a straw he grabbed.

“No seriously, my parents are out of town and I was going to throw a party, but I won’t unless you come to it.”

“Well shit, that’s a lot of pressure. You’re basing this whole thing on me going, so if I don’t go everyone will be disappointed at me for cancelling it?” you teased, grabbing the ingredients to make his usual.

“Ha ha. Very funny. You know I don’t mean it like that. But I’d like you to come, it wouldn’t be the same without you there.”

“I don’t really socialize, so I’m sure no one would miss me. Plus, no one knows me.”

“I know you. And I would miss you, and you’re the only person I care about in terms of showing up.”

You smiled softly as his confession, trying to play it cool despite the fact your stomach was currently doing cartwheels. You didn’t even know if you were making his drink right, you prayed muscle memory would save you this time.

“You’d miss me? You just wanna talk to me more, do you like me or something?”

“Or something.” he smirked, smacking a twenty on the table, and you didn’t even bother to give him back his change. He refused to accept it back, you had already tried.

“Thanks for the drink sweetcheeks. It’s on Friday, and if you don’t show I’m gonna call the whole thing off, mid party and then everyone’s gonna be pissed at you.”

“Or at you for making up that stupid rule.” you snarked, sliding him over his glass, and grabbing a clean towel to wipe down your space. You could already feel two peoples eyes on you, waiting for a drink. They could wait a little longer.

“Show up then.” he shrugged. “But wait, I don’t even have your address-“ you called after him as he walked towards the exit, back towards to the heat and blinding sun. He waved his phone, without even looking back.

“Good thing we have these then eh sweets?”

“Smartass.” you grumbled under your breath as his laughed, and you watched the door swing behind him as you were stuck behind the bar.

“What can I get you?” you asked the stranger sitting near you, wishing more then anything it was Peter still there instead.

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

He was massive. Wait no- sorry, his house was massive. (Did you seriously think you’d jump the gun that quickly? Get over yourself).

You stared up at it as you emerged from your car, so out of place in this fancy establishment. He lived not only in a gated community but his property was privately gated as well.

Didn’t shock you.

You knew his family was rich, but jesus you didn’t know this rich. Dozens of cars were parked, all range rovers and catialcs as you locked your simple looking black civic.

Oh well. He invited me after all.

You belonged here. You were allowed to be here, no matter how many second thoughts you had looking at the fancy fountain, the perfectly manicured lawn and ferns, a perfect cone shape as they lead up to the massive pillars and white staircase.

You had dealt with snobby rich people before at your job, and you could do it again. Not that Peter was snobby in any way. If anything, he was one of the only ones you knew who was humble and down to earth. Hopefully his friends would be the same.

You smoothed out your mini dress, attempting to get rid of the wrinkles. Nervous, you figited with the pearls on your neck, listening to your heels clack on the pavement before you found yourself up the stairs.

You heard music, but it wasn’t as loud as you expected. No thumping floors or shaking walls, and you couldn’t see any flashing lights. You weren’t even sure what you expected. But it certainly wasn’t this. This seemed oddly calm. You could still clearly hear the cicadas as they chirped outside under the stars.

You lifted your hand to knock, and the double doors swung open as your hand was mid air, mouth opening in confusion.

“You’re not Peter.”

“So you’re observant too. You’re prettier then he described you. He’s been watching out the window for you like he’s on guard duty.”

“Bucky stop flirting with my girl!” a voice called from the other room, and you watched as Peter emerged from the other room, jogging over to you with a smile.

My girl? You fought a smile, trying to pretend his words meant nothing but you lost. Bad.

“Hi. Sorry I was just-“

“Waiting for me. I heard from your friend here. It’s nice to meet you Bucky.” you nodded, laughing as Peter’s cheeks turned a lighter of light pink.

“Likewise. Go into greater detail next time Parker.”

“No, because then you dicks will try to steal her.”

Bucky laughed, walking back in the direction Peter came from, which you assumed was where the main party was. You looked around, surveying the massive foyer- tall pillars also inside, bright chandeliers glistening over the towering staircase.

It was beautiful. You couldn’t help but admire the mural on the ceiling, mimicking a Renaissance style piece.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming. You look beautiful, by the way. I mean you always do- but you look amazing now. Sorry I’m not sure why I’m rambling, I just smoked a joint and I’m nervous.” he trailed on and you laughed, reaching up to touch his bicep in reassurance.

You weren’t sure where the confidence came from, but you were happy about it. His skin was soft and warm, and he leaned into your touch.

“Don’t be nervous. If anything, I’m nervous. This is your party! And it’s so- wow.” you breathed, looking up again at the fresco.

“Everyone’s so excited to meet you. You’ve already met Bucky, I see.”

You giggled. “Hopefully they all like me. Are they friends from school?”

“Some from school, some from home, some from the country club.”

“Ah I see. So a wide variety.”

“Something like that.” he smirked, placing a hand on your lower back as he guided you towards a mysterious hallway. The hand placement. Oh my god the hand placement. You savoured his touch as he guided you, looking up at him despite wearing heels.

Somehow he still towered over you. It made you feel things.

You heard bustle from the room he was guiding you towards, the sound of music leading you onwards. Dozens of people mingled around what looked like a game room. Some lounged on leather couches with drinks in their hands, others playing a round of pool.

You saw Bucky and some others with a deck of cards, others at the bar top. It was spacious, detailed wood panels across the ceiling, with soft lights mounted on the walls, creating a glow. You admired the dozens of paintings perched on the walls, staring at Peter in amazement.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“Thanks.” he smiled, taking it in with you, as if he didn’t see this every day. It made you like him even more somehow, if that was possible.

“Hey everyone this is Y/N. Party is no longer threatened to get cancelled. You’re welcome.” he called out, and everyone cheered.

“To Y/N” Bucky called out in toast, raising his glass. They didn’t even use solo cups. This shit was fancy as fuck.

You laughed, waving to everyone before Peter pulled you aside, the music picking up its tempo as the chatter resumed. “Can I get you a drink? For once?” he asked, and you nodded- following him over to the bar.

“It’s nice to see you behind the counter for once.” you smirked, giggling as he whipped a towel over his shoulder like a real bartender. “What do you mean for once? I will let you know that I am the most prestigious bartender in France. They don’t even call me a bartender, the call me “tender of the bar” " he drawled.

“Just a cider please. I’m easy like that.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank god. I don’t know how to make anything but a whisky sour.”

“Hey, that's a start!” you smiled, watching as he grabbed a chilled glass and slid ice in it, before pouring your drink from the can. “Madame.”

“Thank you, monsior. Mmmm fantastic. You should work with me!” He snorted, throwing the towel down. “They would fire me before I could pick up a glass. You’re too talented, you'd outshine me. You already do.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“You’re being silly.”

“Silly is my middle name.”

“I thought handsome was your middle name?”

“Alright woah now-“

----------------------------------------------------------------- A few hours had passed, and the night was still young. You were drunk, a little- and your shoes had come off. You didn’t know where they went, or where your phone was, or why you were outside with Peter.

But you were outside with Peter. And it was nice.

The air was chill against your skin, but not cold enough you had goosebumps. It was soft against your flushed skin from the alcohol, and you savoured the breeze as it fluttered your dress. Everyone was still inside, but you needed a breather.

You could see the lights shinning brightly from here, where you were on the pool deck. Because of course he had a pool. He also had a tennis court, a golf course, and an indoor pool. No surprises there.

You heard the sliding glass door open and shut, Peter emerging with glasses of water in hand. “I figured you’d want this.” he said, walking over to you with a grin, and a fluster on his cheeks.

“Thank you so much.” you sighed, the water trickling down your hand as you grabbed the ice cold glass, taking a long chug. It cleared your head as it slithered down your throat, relieving your thirst.

“So, is it okay?”

“Is what okay?”

“Here. This. Me.”

You stared at him, cocking your head in interest, attempting to study him. “It’s more than okay. It’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

“You think so?” he asked, a glimmer in his eyes as he stepped closer to you, your chests practically touching as he grabbed your empty glass, setting it down beside you.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand slid up, cupping your cheek- thumb brushing your skin making you shiver. Your nipples hardened under his touch- or the chill, you didn’t know.

All you knew was that his eyes were burning holes into yours with the utmost lust you thought you’d simply combust.

“Is it okay if I touch you here doll?”

You nodded.

“What do you want Y/N? Do you want this?” he asked, voice practically begging. The music from the party thudded off the windows, lyrics slipping through the cracks under the doors to echo into your ears.

I sing the national anthem while I am standing over your body hold you like a python, and you can’t keep your hands off me or your pants on, see whatcha done to me, King of Chevron…

“I want this. I want it all.” you murmured, leaning into his touch.

“Can you swim?” he whispered, inching closer and closer to your lips.

Wait- what?

“Ye-” you let out a scream as you felt the world tilt under your feet, tumbling backwards into the hands of a strong man holding your waist. A splash erupted, the world turning a murky dark blue as the music muffled. The water was surprisingly warm as you gasped for air, frantically reaching out for Peter to hold.

He was even warmer than the water despite the cool air, and he laughed as you clung to him, wrapping your legs around his torso, dress hunched up as it stuck to your body like a second skin.

You became very much aware of how his shirt did the same, except it was white, and you could see the perfect outline of his abs and his arm tats.

“Peter what the fuck?!” you shrieked, cut off as his lips crashed to yours, engulfing you with heat and a tenderness you’ve never felt before.

His lips were like pillows as they caressed yours, hands squeezing your thighs, your ass, your waist as he tugged you closer and closer, until your breaths had merged and you had practically become one.

Hands flew up to his hair, tugging on the wet strands as he begged for more, and more- teeth clashing, tongues begging for entrance before they slipped in.

You couldn’t help but moan, breathing harder as his squeezed your ass hard enough to bruise, unleashing whatever restraint he had been holding. You moaned again and he had to pull away, resting his forehead against yours, breathing hard as he watched your mascara smudge and trickle down your cheeks.

“Y/N fuck- if you keep moaning like that… I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you asked innocently, shivering.

“I’m trying so hard to be a gentleman and not go past this, but if you keep doing that I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.” he murmured, bringing a hand up to stroke a stray strand of water from your cheek, kissing each one.

“That’s okay.” you smiled, grinding your hips against his, rubbing against him as he moaned.

“Jesus christ baby. Fuck.”

You giggled, feeling his very prominent bulge through his pants. You grabbed his chin, lips melting against his once more, just to get a taste of him. You were addicted- heart thudding in your chest, blood turning to molten lava in your veins.

It was like his lips were coated in honey, so sweet you practically licked them. “You’re just so sweet.” you sighed into his lips, kissing him harder. It wasn’t long before you were interrupted, the sound of a sliding glass door opening.

“You guys almost done out here?” Bucky called out, Peter's head whipping to him in annoyance.

“ What do you want?!” he called out, exasperated. “Steve and I wanna swim. Unless you guys want us to join you, I’m sure there wouldn’t be too many complaints on this end.” Bucky smirked, winking at you.

What a goddamn flirt. You couldn’t help but smile back, even if he had just interrupted the best experience of your entire life.

“We’ll be out in a minute Bucky- calm down.”

“No need!” a voice called from the house, to which Steve ran and cannonballed into the pool, splashing you.

Peter sighed, leaning his forehead back against yours. “I am so sorry about them. This is not as romantic as I had hoped in the slightest.”

“What are you talking about? This is totally romantic. The drenched rat look I’m wearing is what the movies had envisioned.”

He laughed, kissing your forehead with a quick peck, before Bucky jumped in right after. “The most beautiful drenched rat I’ve ever seen. I promise you, we’ll have time for this again.”

“Many times?” you asked flirtatiously, and he nodded.

”Many times.”

“Good. Now, I suppose we should all play mermaids now. What powers do you wanna have?”

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sea-lanterns · 1 year ago

Text

SAW

synopsis: (slasher! AU) as a devoted follower, you would do anything to please your master.

featuring: arlecchino (columbina mentioned at the end)

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, mentions of death, death traps, brief mentions of child traffi.cking, sadism, master x follower dynamic, praise, pet names (she calls you doll, babydoll, etc.) mockery, lap se.x, thigh riding, strap on, biting, hickies, rough se.x, spa.nking, manhandling, mentions of th.ree.some, implied th.ree.some at the end.

art credits: junji ito's "house of marionettes"

Fastening on the metal bear trap onto an unconscious victim’s head, you hummed an eerie tune to yourself knowing your beloved master was watching you from above. It didn’t matter that you were currently sitting in a padlocked room with a man about to die right in front of you, you just wanted to please your master by any means necessary. Even if it meant killing all these people by sending them into death traps.

You tightened a certain screw on the trap before smiling to yourself and leaning back. The man in front of you was no innocent man, he was a criminal, a monster, and he deserved this fate whether he liked it or not, causing you to smile in sadistic pleasure for the upcoming end of his life.

“Tight as a button.” You hum to yourself, looking up at the security camera located in the far right corner of the room. You knew your beloved master was watching, and you couldn’t help but give it a little wave to show that you had completed the task she assigned you. “I did it…” You exclaim softly, smiling at the flashing red light on the camera. “I’m gonna head up now, okay?”

You stood up and paid no mind to the unconscious man you just doomed to suffer a fate worse than death. Humming all too nonchalantly before leaving the room and locking it shut, ensnaring the man to leave him dead before making your way down the hall with a skip in your step. Various screams of terror and pain rang out from the other death traps as you made your way over to a secret door. The sounds of torture like a song to your ears while you pushed the passcode buttons to unlock a passage to a room.

“What an awful melody…” you murmured to yourself, glancing back at the trap rooms to listen to one more scream of terror. “It’s beautiful.”

The door to the secret passageway popped open and you moved inside with ease, your body slipping through as you maneuvered through the narrow hallways of the abandoned building. “Abandoned” as it appeared to the public, people unaware of the multiple deaths coinciding within its walls for the police have failed to track down the mastermind behind these deaths.

The mastermind to which you served and dedicated your entire life to.

Navigating your way towards another hidden door, you pushed it open to see a tall woman sitting idly in front of a bunch of security cameras, her lean figure illuminated by the many monitors and making her seem like a god of some sort. A pleasant shiver runs down your spine when you see her, and you immediately take a bow and keep your head down low.

“Master, the player in room 14 is ready to begin his game.” You say with grace, glancing up at the taller woman in hopes of pleasing her. The woman doesn’t move for a moment, but her chair creaks slightly as she slowly turns around to face you. There she was. Your savior, your master, your goddess. The one behind the torture games, the mastermind behind all the killings…

Arlecchino, the Jigsaw killer.

“Come, sit.” She says calmly, staring at you with those X-shaped pupils of hers that had you pressing your thighs together. “On my lap, come on sweet girl…”

She points down at her legs and you immediately walk over to plant yourself on her lap. Arlecchino wrapped her clawed hands around your waist before leaning forward to take a deep inhale of the scent in your hair. “Did my doll tighten the trap like I asked…?” She whispers into your ear, exhaling with a small groan as she squeezed your hips tighter with her hands.

“I did. I followed everything you taught me to, master,” you say obediently, looking up at her with the brightest of smiles. “Did I do good? Are you proud of me?” If you had a tail it would for sure be wagging…

Arlecchino chuckled huskily before leaning down to kiss your neck. “You did wonderful, pet…” she says in a dark tone, running one of her nails over the bare expanse of your neck. “The drug should be wearing off soon. Would you like to watch his game with me?” She asks in a polite tone, almost mocking with the way she smiled at you so tenderly.

“Am I allowed to?” You ask softly, staring up at her with wide, doe-like eyes. Arlecchino groaned at the sight and had to keep herself from just shoving you onto her desk and fucking you raw right there, but she had enough restraint and took a deep breath.

“Do you have to be cute, my doll?” Arlecchino husks, staring up at you with those crimson eyes of hers. “You make it impossible not to devour you…”

Your cheeks flushed at the compliment and you couldn’t help but glance away shyly. “Sorry, master…” you say softly, causing Arlecchino to scoff before smiling. “Don’t apologize, I was merely teasing…”

She pinches your cheek with her fingers before tilting your chin over to look at the monitor in front of you. “Let’s watch his prolonged suffering together, my pet. It looks like he’s starting to awaken…”

Adjusting comfortably on Arlecchino’s lap, she kept a firm hold on your waist before watching the man in the room start to awaken. He looked dazed, clearly confused why he woke up in a green-tiled room with a metal contraption stuck to his neck. He had no idea that he was about to die if he didn’t meet the requirements for Arlecchino’s game, and the thought slightly amused you as you watched him groggily stumble around the room in delusion.

The metal contraption attached to the man’s neck was Arlecchino’s infamous “bear trap.” A simple, yet deadly death trap designed to enclose multiple spikes into a person’s head if they did not complete the challenge on time. It was one of Arlecchino’s favorite traps, as it was a trap designed to kill instantly, yet instill tremendous amounts of fear into the person, as the idea of being Iron Maiden-ed in the face was too scary not to think about…

“Ah…perhaps it’s time we give him a call,” Arlecchino hums, giving your cheek a sensual kiss. “Don’t forget your mask, my pet. The adorable marionette one that makes you look simply stunning…”

You nod obediently and grab the porcelain mask on the table, Arlecchino grabbing her own rubber mask that mimicked a slack-jaw puppet. It was so kind of your master to make you a mask of your own, one that was the perfect complementary pair to match hers so that it looked like you were a couple.

You were, but it was hidden under the facade of a master and follower cover.

“Let’s give him a wake up call, shall we?” Arlecchino grins, turning on the camera and setting up the voice distorter. When the man looks up at the TV in the room, he sees two masked people, you and Arlecchino staring back at him with the creepy and unsettling puppet masks that sent shivers down his spine. It was unsettling with the way you two presented yourselves, and he immediately began shouting at the screen for answers.

“Quiet down, will you?” Arlecchino’s voice ran through the mic, gripping your waist tighter before covering your ears. “You are disturbing my precious doll with your foul words…”

The man refuses to shut up, causing Arlecchino to glare at him through the holes of her mask. She pushes a certain button and the wires of the bear trap suddenly inch closer to the man’s face, causing him to scream.

“That’s better.” She smiles sadistically, removing her hands from your ears so you could hear. “As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me with your incompetence…”

She begins explaining the rules of the “game” giving the man a chance to escape before the inevitable closure of his death.

“You were put in this room for becoming involved in a child trafficking ring. To escape, you must find the key to the exit behind one of the tiles in this room. You have ten minutes to complete this task, failure to finish it before the intended time limit will result in the bear trap around your neck closing.”

The man’s eyes widened and you had to keep yourself from chuckling out loud.

“Your time begins now.”

Arlecchino then clicked off the camera and pulled off her mask, watching as the man began scrambling to search for all the tiles. There had to be at least a thousand tiles in that room, as every square inch of the walls and floor were covered in small, marble tiles. Ten minutes was being generous, but even within that extended time limit, you knew it was almost impossible to find the key as each tile was carefully adjusted to look normal and not out of place.

“So, what should we do while we wait for his ten minutes to be up?” Arlecchino hums, pushing her nose against your neck. She seemed to be implying she wants something intimate with you, but being the obedient follower that you are, you looked up innocently and tilted your head.

“What does master want to do?” You ask in a gentle tone, Arlecchino smirking with the most intimidating gaze.

“I want to do something sinful, my dear…” she says in a gravelly tone, practically growling into your ear before tugging at your pants. “Indulge in your master, will you?”

Another scream rips through the monitor and you couldn’t help but grow a little wet at the way Arlecchino was keen on fucking you in the middle of a game. She slowly moved her hand up your thigh and you could feel just how sharp and strong her fingers were as they squeezed the ball of flesh above your jeans. The way she could so easily kill you had you on a rush, and Arlecchino groaned at the way you started to warm up against her lap with how wet you were.

“Doll, you’re just begging for me to touch you, hmm?” She chuckles into your ear. “Need my cock in you that bad, huh? You’re lucky I decided to wear it today…”

Her hand moves down to unzip her trousers, revealing a thick strap on that you knew you could take easily with some prep. “You…You were wearing that the whole time?” You exclaim with surprise, a surge of heat pulsing through your core. “I was sitting on it the whole time…?”

She throws her head back to laugh at your stupidity. It was so endearing with how innocent you were when it came to these sorts of things. “I’m surprised you didn’t feel it,” she chuckles through her amusement. “It’s a girthy thing, almost too big if I do say so myself.”

“It’s not big…!” You quickly retort back, pouting at your master before holding onto her shoulders. “I can take it. I can take it all.”

“I don’t doubt it one bit, sweet girl,” Arlecchino grins amusedly. “However, you do need quite a bit of prep work to take such a stretch. Fortunately, you’re already semi-wet, but…” She gives you a wolfish grin before toying with the belt loop of your jeans. “I’ll need that cunt of yours dripping more if you’re gonna take me now…”

You let out a small groan before unzipping your jeans to begin kicking them off, the eagerness of getting her strap inside you too obvious not to notice, as Arlecchino found it difficult to keep a straight face. “Easy there, dollface…” Arlecchino purrs lightly, squeezing your cheeks together with her hand so your lips form a small pout. “I’m in no rush, and neither should you.”

You let out a small noise of complaint at this, before obeying her words and going at a much more leisurely pace. Once your pants and underwear were off, you sat back down on Arlecchino’s lap and whimpered at the feeling of her rough trousers against your aching hole.

“Mmm…quite a delicious sight already…” Arlecchino husks, wrapping her arms around your waist once more. “But not quite wet enough. I think it’s best if you grind against my thigh for a bit, hm?”

She stares up at you with that incredibly intimidating —yet sexy— look, rows of sharpened teeth glimmering at you under the lamplight air of the room. You had no idea how such a hot woman would be the face behind the infamous Jigsaw killer, but you weren’t complaining. She was yours and you were hers.

“Yes, master.” You respond in a soft tone, beginning to shift your hips so that you could start grinding against her pants, panting slightly from how stimulated you already were from her dirty talk.

Arlecchino chuckles and leans back, relaxing in her chair as she watches you grind and ride her thighs with resolve. The sight of you trying so desperately to appease her was such a turn on, and for a moment she forgot that she was currently overseeing a man’s death just rooms away from where you two were sitting. “That’s my good girl…” Arlecchino murmurs, unable to contain her groans as she fixes the shaft of her strap so it sits upright. “Just a little more and you can ride me silly.”

At her encouragement, you only grind harder, whimpering at the pleasurable feeling of her trousers providing friction to your already sensitive clit. There was a pulsing sensation that you could not deny, and as you kept grinding your hips on her leg, you felt yourself growing more wet.

“Goodness…you soaked a spot right on me,” your master smirks almost predatorily, “I think you’re ready to take me, sweet girl…”

As an extra precaution, Arlecchino grabs a bottle of lube from the corner of the table and squeezes a helping of it onto the impressive girth of her cock. The clear liquid drips down her shaft slowly, and Arlecchino gives the length a few shallow pumps before angling it so you could move.

“Come on, just like we practiced.” Arlecchino hums, thumbing the tip of the shaft before watching you hover over the head with a bit of hesitance. “I’ll go slow, don’t worry…”

You grip the edge of her shoulders before slowly sinking down onto the head of her cock, the wide tip slowly spearing you open before you whimper and start to feel resistance.

“Ugh…fuck…” Arlecchino grit her teeth and had to resist the primal urge to slam you down and start thrusting into you. She knew she promised you to be gentle and wanted to keep her promise no matter how tempting it may be to break.

“Easy there, easy…” she grunts and slowly eases her hips to help you adjust, watching as you slowly inch down bit by bit. “Master…” you whimper out softly, biting your lip before taking a deep breath. “I think I need more lube…”

“No, you’re fine. This is enough.” Arlecchino groans, shifting your hips with her hands before kissing your neck reassuringly. “Just need to find the right…angle…”

You let out a yelp when you suddenly sink down all the way, your hips meeting hers as all of her shaft had somehow fit into you with one swift motion.

God you severely underestimated the size. It didn’t look that long, and it wasn’t. But oh lord was it thick. The girth of it enough to stretch you wide open and have you squirming in her lap to adjust, letting out pathetic whimpers as you’ve never felt so stretched open before.

“M-Master…” you gasp, the breath knocked out of your lungs as you feel Arlecchino’s teeth graze your neck. “Too big…”

“What?” Arlecchino practically laughs sadistically in your face, X-shaped pupils almost glowing with amusement. “Didn’t you say you could take it all? That it wasn’t too big?”

You whimpered when you were reminded of your confident words.

“It’s not too big, babydoll. You said it yourself.” A sudden shift in her tone had you fearful for a moment as you suddenly felt a sharp thrust pulsate against your inner walls.

“Ah—!” You start to let out breathless pants and gasps when Arlecchino begins to thrust madly.

“You were so confident earlier, what happened to wanting to take it all immediately?” She mocks, grinning with pleasure as you writhe in her grip. If there was one thing you learned while working under Arlecchino, it was that the woman was a lot stronger than she looked under that lean muscle. Practically pinning you down until you couldn’t move, before making you bounce up and down her lap till the tip of her cock was all you could feel.

“Don’t tell me my doll is defying orders now.” Arlecchino growls, slamming you back down until your pussy practically wraps itself around her length, gripping it for all that it was worth, while you lolled your head back in absolute bliss. “N-Nngh…master…” you moaned out pathetically, the stretch burning you wonderfully while you cling to Arlecchino for sanity. “Slower…please…”

Arlecchino scoffs at that and gives your rear a tiny spank, laughing at the way you recoiled in surprise.

“Slower? You want me to go slower?” She was mocking you again, the sadism evident in her voice. “Babydoll, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

She spanks your read once more and bites your neck rather aggressively, a dark hickey beginning to form at the base while she continues ramming her girth into your cunt. The way you were holding onto her so tightly —and pathetically— gave Arlecchino a power strike of ecstasy, the woman animalistic with her ruts as she digs her claws even further against your ass.

“You’re dripping so much, my sweet girl,” she groans into your throat, “Such a mess, I’ll need you to clean everything up for me later, right?”

She sneers at the way you whine at her words before shaking your head in obedience.

“Yes, master!”

“Good fucking girl.”

She suddenly lifts you up and places you on her desk, the bright blue monitors illuminating your body like a heavenly light while Arlecchino thrusts more brutally into your flesh. Rough hands prying your legs further apart as she pushes you down to deliver a passionate kiss. With one final push, you feel your body twitch before a squeal leaves your lips and cum drips down your thighs, your climax reaching a beautiful finale, as the monitor above you plays the sound of the man screaming to death in his room. The trap had closed around his head and ensnared his head in a casket of spikes, leaving him to bleed out in the tiled room of door 14.

“Hah…hah…looks like he didn’t make it.” Arlecchino pants, grinning all too wildly before kissing your neck affectionately. “Good girl. I knew I could count on you…”

As she nuzzles your neck with her face, you hear the door behind her suddenly creak open before gentle humming fills the room. Arlecchino turns back to see who had entered, before smiling at the sight of the other person.

“My, my, I see you’ve had your fun with her already.” Came a familiar, feminine voice. You looked up to see a shorter woman wearing a pig mask shutting the door, lithe hands reaching up to pull off the atrocious mask, and revealing a petite, yet beautiful woman you recognized as Columbina. One of Arlecchino’s most dutiful proxies.

“Goodness, she’s certainly soaked your pants, Arlecchino.” Columbina tuts with faux astonishment. “I can’t believe you two started without me.”

“You were taking too long,” Arlecchino chuckles back, caressing your cheek with a clawed nail. “You should’ve been faster.”

“Ah, I was too busy setting up the victims for the next few games,” the pigheaded woman sighs, strutting over to pinch your cheek playfully. “Looks like this little one will have to make it up to me now…”

You instinctively melted under Columbina’s touch, nuzzling your face into the soft, sweet palm of her hand. She cooes affectionately at the sight, before giving your head a little puppy-like pat. “Good girl…”

“She is, isn’t she?” Arlecchino grins, picking you up once more to sit on her lap while she rests on her chair. “I think this sweet thing can spare us one more round. For Columbina’s sake, right?” She lifts your chin with a finger, staring at you as if almost daring you to say no.

“Of course, master…” you say obediently, arousal starting to drip down your thighs once more at the possibility of a threesome.

“Atta girl…” Columbina giggles, pressing up behind you and kissing the back of your ear. “Just the perfect doll for us to share…”

You only bucked back your hips at that, ready to give whatever these two women wanted from you.

#arlecchino smut #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #slasher au #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin women smut #genshin women x reader #genshin imagines

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