#not being able to do things outside of fantasies in my head

[eksperimentgaj]

My recent state can only be described as 'samonapędzające się koło spierdolenia'

[rxmxa]

random (spicy) astro observations 18+

disclaimer: these are based on my experiences & observations ‼️⚠️🙈

ppl that have gemini mars, virgo mars, mercury-pluto, mercury-mars aspects, mercury-lilith aspects and also air signs in the 12th house (libra, gemini, or Aquarius 12th house) could enjoy dirty talk in bed. They love talking you through it or also you hearing say it back. They are the type to say the craziest shit in the heat of the moment.

ok we all know that mercury-pluto aspects like dirty talk (hearing it BUT especially giving it). mercury (talking/conversation) & pluto (the taboo) = freaky ass shit. they want to be talked through it & they wanna talk u through it!! BUT NO FR, I was sitting here wondering what exactly the flavor of the conversation will be based on your mercury sign and where your pluto is. Here r some ideas based on a random chart:

12h Gemini Mercury in opposition to 6h Pluto. Maybe when they're talking you through it, they're saying ALL THE WILD ASS SHITTT they've been keeping in their head, like they could start talking about their fantasies and things that were on their subconscious start to come (LOL) to the surface (12h). "I been thinking about fcking u like this ever since you were teasing me wearing that dress the other day" or things along those lines! Like it could really shake you to your boots with the specific descriptions. And if it's Gemini mercury, the dirty talk could be in the form of questions and very animated or rapid questions back to back in true Gemini fashion, of course. "You like that? you like the way I fuck you?"

But then you have the 6h pluto, so theyre mentioning 6h themes during sex like for example daily life/ routines. they could be talking about how turned on they get everytime they see u do anything mundane, like reading a book or tasting something, how they start imagining your mouth on other things. Or how the other day when u were doing (random daily task) all they were thinking about (redacted).

this all stems from me being nosey and wondering who else is acting a fool in bed too :( I wonder if the sextiles and trines are more natural/ sexier sounding, LOL, and then with squares and oppositions afterward, ur, like, OMG, why did I say that? I have Mercury Square Pluto, and I [redacted]. But honestly, it's not that serious and in the moment it feels hot so who cares 😭

In conclusion, Mercury Sign = HOW they say it, like the mannerisms in their speech. Pluto House = where the scope of their freakiness narrows down. LMFAOOO.

AND ALSO, where their Pluto is, you can also boost their ego. If they have Pluto in the 6th house u tell them about how their body is so attractive, how much it turns you on when they help you and make your life easier, that u wanna show them how thankful u are. or they have pluto in the 9th house and tell them they're so fucking smart, that ur so lucky to be with someone like them that u wanna make the experience worth it and memorable for them, that u will worship them. OR OR Pluto in 1st house, tell them you love how they move through life, how powerful they are, how other people are probably so jealous you have someone like them etc

speaking of mercury in the 12h though, we know that the 12th house rules over hidden aspects of ourselves, like secrets, solitude, and unconscious desires that are not immediately visible or acknowledged in the outside world. So with sextrology, that house can give u sneak peak into their fantasies and even the ones they might be afraid of acting on.

for ex with whole signs: in daily life, taurus rising strives to maintain a balanced and harmonious daily routine (libra 6th house) BUT THENNN with that aries 12th house they fantasize about being able to let loose, to be able to be more assertive and lead in the bedroom, to be able to tell them exactly what to do etc. look at the signs and its energy.

we know ppl with Mars-Uranus aspects are ~eccentric~ in bed, like they're willing to try anything new, like that new position they saw on Twitter or some shit, BUT it's also about spontaneity, like people with this aspect in bed could be like, "Okay, now let's do this" and then randomly b like" OKAY now turn me around and then do this." It's not just about picking one ~spicy new random thing~ to try. It's about keeping up with the randomness throughout it all.

you know what vibes ppl with mars-uranus aspects also give me? The scenes in the movies where they step into the apartment and its quiet for a split second but then theyre knocking shit over and breaking lamps and flipping tables and shit until they get to the bedroom. "Is somebody gonna match my freak?" was about this aspect

moon-mars synastry also gives me the vibe where you give each other the look in the middle of the party 👀��� and then your like wellp guys we gotta go bye!! and next thing you know you’re.. well I’ll leave it up to your imagination. ORRRR also being late to the party because you were fucking LMAO

Sometimes, the crazy thing about having birth charts of related people is how even preferences can be similar. For example, one of my college friends and her brother asked me to look at their chart. They both have a Mars-Jupiter conjunction and have the same preferences regarding physical features (they're lighter and have light eyes, and they prefer people with darker complexions and darker hair and also people from outside their own culture).

mars-jupiter can manifest in many ways, but that's just one way it does for them. Being drawn (mars) to foreign cultures, dialects, and customs (Jupiter). But then the house highlights a difference; her conjunction is in the 9th house, and she is invested in her religion and spirituality ( 9h topics); it's a turn-on for her to find someone who aligns with her sentiments. He has his conjunction in the 1st house, so looking at 1h topics (body, appearance, identity), his focus could be more on appearance and less on a specific focus. For example, he could meet someone and be attracted to their appearance and confidence in who they are, so they check off their box with their preference and are more flexible with other qualities (such as their religious beliefs or daily routine, etc). But if the conjunction is in the 10th house, it's about focusing on someone career-driven, or in the 4th house and being attracted to someone who is in tune with their family and roots.

It can look differently though, like when ppl with mars-jupiter aspects like someone they can be like "i'm attracted (mars) to your intelligence, to the way you talk about the world, to how you think big (jupiter) "

or ppl with mars-sun aspects can be like "i'm attracted (mars) to your confidence and with the way you take up space and light up every room u walk into (sun)"

mars-uranus: I'm attracted (mars) to your unique tastes and niche hobbies and how you are so different than the other people in my life (uranus)

mars-venus: I'm attracted (mars) to the way you appreciate the finer things in life the way I do, how you look so beautiful when you take charge etc.

mars-neptune: I'm attracted (Mars) to the way you bring a sense of magic and mystery into my life, how you seem to live in a world of your own that’s so spiritual and dreamy (Neptune)

mars-moon: im drawn (Mars) to how safe and emotionally connected I feel with you, how you nurture my feelings and create a comforting space for me to express myself (Moon)

cancer mars in the composite chart will have you fucking like animals honestly. There is a sense of comfort where you want to be as close as possible (aka raw sex, breeding kink, wanting them to cum inside you and them eager to do it as well). This is the couple that after will giggle and talk about baby names or how many kids they’re going to have. Or what there future house will look like. This couple could be very big on aftercare as well or just cuddling and holding each other for a while once they are done. Truly some mom and dad energy right there honestly.

sun conjunct mars synastry can lead to a fast paced relationship. You meet one day and the next two days you might already be in bed together. It can be hot synastry until sun does something, no matter how trivial, that is just going to piss mars the fuck off. Can lead to make up sex though. But then it happens again.

Gemini mars (men) can have much more stamina and last longer in bed. But in the meanwhile they’re going to put you in dozens of different positions before they finally finish.

Mars-Saturn, Capricorn Mars or Mars in the 10th house, or even those with mars at cap degrees such as 10 degrees, 22 degrees placements love when people "play hard to get." They don't mind playing the long game and being patient. They could like bondage or any kind of restraint such as holding the wrists down or arms back.

[sectumsempraaa]

Send Him My Regards

Pairing: fem!reader x idk they’re all in love with you LOL, but Draco's down bad

Summary: You aren’t one to provoke the aggressive nature of your closest friend group (a bunch of reckless Slytherin boys) but when the new hire at your favorite bookstore makes you uncomfortable, you’re forced to ask for their… “help.”

Word Count: 2.5k

Featuring: The whole damn crew. Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Pansy, Blaise, Lorenzo

TW: Implied non-consensual touching/comments, implied violence, panic/mental distress, cursing, disgustingly fluffy

Notes: This is based on something I recently experienced, as many of you have, too. I tried my best to convey my very real thoughts on this matter. Avoiding threatening men is a constant, everyday struggle. If you can relate, this is for you.

“Love, you already own every book in the world.” Draco proclaims, staggering behind you with his pack of Slytherin watch dogs.

Whenever you go anywhere as a group, they always let you lead so they can keep an eye on your surroundings. You think it’s silly, but it’s their thing, and you secretly appreciate the protection, so you let them be. It makes them feel important, and you find it endearing.

“I most certainly do not! Only like… two hundred.” You respond, muttering the number under your breath.

“Then I’ll buy you every book in the world. Must we come here every weekend?” he groans. Of course, Mattheo interrupts, shooting Draco a furrowed brow.

“Mate, for the love of god, either stop coming on these trips, or use some of that fancy cash you love to go on about to take us elsewhere. Pick one.” Mattheo sneers. Naturally, he’s carrying your bag and coat, making sure you never lift a finger. His response earns a smirk from you.

You’re not really listening though, more so taking in the beauty of Hogsmeade. You love escaping the castle for the little town on perfect, brisk days like this one, hitting everyone’s favorite shops and downing a couple of butterbeers.

The boys continue arguing in the background as you make your way down the cobblestone street, your hair blowing softly in the chill of the November breeze. Blaise and Theo share an eye roll with each other before coming to your side, leaving the two to bicker as they trail behind. Theo steps in, heaving a dramatic sigh and throwing an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. His words drip with that rich Italian accent.

“Ignore them, bella. We’ll wait for you outside.” You smile at him and he gives you a wink. A man of few words, but oozing with charm. He will occasionally act as a grounding force when the others get rowdy. You hear Draco drag on about how he “earned” his money or whatever.

“Oh wow, a real rags to riches story!” Mattheo shouts, lunging at Draco. You shake your head laughing with Blaise, sending you a look that reads as “I’ll take care of them.” You enter the bookshop, making the bell ring as the door opens.

The first thing you notice is the shiny new display of fantasy books you’ve been dying to get your hands on. You make your way towards it, not being able to contain the thrill on your face. You’ve been waiting for this series to restock and here they are, all of them, ready to be yours. You touch the smooth covers, tracing your fingers over the author’s name on each one.

The second thing you notice is… him. Your heart drops as your sheer excitement instantly morphs into dread.

Please, not again. 

The new hire at this bookstore has ruined the last couple of trips for you. You were hoping he would stop working weekends but… there he is. And he eyes you right away, like you’re on his radar.

The first time you came in, it was the comments. Calling you pet names, pointing out his favorite features on you, and it was relentless. You somehow got through it and attempted to shake it off, praying he would quit or just get fired before your next trip.

The second time, it was the touching. Brushing against your back when trying to “get through”, his hand grabbing your arm too tightly while he led you down an aisle. You tripped on your way out while trying to make a swift escape, and of course he was there to “catch you”, only giving him an excuse to grip both hands around your waist, hesitant to release you.

Your eyes go between the book display and his movements as he starts creeping his way out from behind the counter. You have to make a split-second decision to either stay and endure, or leave safely and empty handed. It pains you but your nerves heighten as he gets closer. Panic sets in as colors blur and sounds become muffled. Your brain and your body and your heart scream together in unison: “danger.”

You burst through the door back outside with a speed and force that could only be conjured by your anxiety. Facing the door, you stumble backwards and let out a gasp when you land in someone’s familiar arms. You recognize the brown suede material of Theo’s jacket as you attempt to catch your breath. It seems no amount of oxygen could suffice at the moment.

“Bella, bella, what’s wrong?” He asks urgently, hoisting you back up to your feet. The others notice the incident and immediately stride their way over. Draco, always leading the pack, puts his hands on your shoulders and lowers his eyes to your level.

“Hey, look at me,” he coos, forcing you out of your episode. He speaks with a tenderness that is almost heartbreaking. “What happened, love? Are you quite alright?”

There’s too many thoughts and feelings swimming around in your head to give an honest answer. Everything is moving in slow motion and you need time to regroup. Swallowing your fear, you decide to lie, at least for now. The last thing you want to do is impulsively encourage their hostility.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you respond, avoiding his gaze. He looks at you, deciding whether to believe you. “Really, I am.” You add. He glances down to your empty hands.

“You left without a book. You always buy a book.” He says, speaking with suspicion in his voice. The others stay back, knowing when to give Draco his space. They all adore you, but Draco would do things you’d rather not think about in order to keep you happy and safe. And he has. It’s been like this since you can remember. 

“Just didn’t have what I wanted, is all.” You explained. The doubt on his face is evident. He speaks just above a whisper.

“Y/N, you know we would take care of anyone that so much as breathes near you wrong, yeah? It’s important to me that you know this.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Mattheo ditching his cigarette and cracking his knuckles. You give a small nod and a shrug, releasing yourself from his hands and walking back in the direction of the castle. Your head is still reeling, but not enough to block out the boys’ debriefing behind you.

First, Mattheo. “She rarely ever gets like that.”

Then Theo. “Only when she panics.” And Blaise. “Her face was almost as pale as Malfoy’s.”

And Draco, but with a tinge of hurt in his voice. “She barely looked at me.” He glances in your direction, contemplating. “Give her time. We’ll look after her tonight. Someone tell Pansy.”

The rest you don’t hear, feeling embarrassment creeping in. You wish they’d just let it go and forget about it, cowering from the attention it’s bringing to you. Your pace quickens as the heat spreads across your cheeks, eager to be alone in your hideout at the castle.

Too focused on your path, you slam into someone’s chest as they’re coming out of the bakery you’re passing.

“Ugh, Lorenzo, I’m so sorry,” you say frantically, smoothing out his jacket and moving past him, never meeting his gaze. His face contorts with confusion and concern. He watches you take off then turns back to the group.

“Something off with that one...” The boys give him a knowing look.

“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo sneers.

—

After what felt like an eternity, you had reached the castle and darted to your hideout: a corner balcony high up in one of the towers facing the pitch. Leaning your elbows on the edge of the balcony, you watch the sun slowly descend into its eventual bed of twilight. Then, the spiraling begins.

Thinking back, you’ve never really dealt with something like this because of who your friends were. No one dared to even step too close to you, aware of what the consequences would be. But you weren’t on school grounds this time. You felt… unprepared. Lost. Violated. Guilty.

Does running away make me weak?

Why can’t I stand up for myself?

How did he gain control so quickly?

Did I ask for it? Did I do something wrong?

This is too much. It feels ridiculous and quite frankly enraging that you considered this being your fault. The stress is exhausting.

You let yourself relax, laying down on a stone bench and staring up at the black night sky. You start to mentally identify the stars in view, something Draco taught you to do when you’d get anxious. It always worked, as evident by the many hours you fell asleep. Upon awakening, you gasp as your watch reads 1AM.

You hear footsteps rustling around nearby, and echoing voices calling your name. Shit. They’re looking for me.

Sneaking around corners, you tiptoe around, trying not to get yourself noticed. Maybe, just maybe you can get back to the dungeons without getting caught. Until you hear the voice of your best friend, who admittedly, you could really use right now.

“Pans?” You whisper, catching a glimpse of her shadow down the corridor. Her head whips around before running to you urgently.

“Where the hell have you been?! The boys are going mad looking for-” She stops abruptly when you force yourself into her arms, hugging her tight and burying your face in her shoulder. Her tone softens to that of an older sister. “Oh, Y/N,” She rubs your back while your eyes well up.

“Fuck, Pans, I don’t know what to do.” You say through subtle sobs, holding back as much as you can for her sake. She looks at you with a questioning look before your words stumble out, caked in distress.

“There’s a boy at the bookstore, MY bookstore, and-and, and he’s there all the time now, following me around, and…”

“Y/N, calm down. You’re okay. It’s just me, sweetie.” She says, running a hand through your hair as her eyes shift to someone behind you; their voice deep, slow, and filled with angst.

“There’s… a… what?” He asks, the voice you recognize as Draco’s ringing off the walls. Mattheo, Theo, and Blaise walk into frame behind him when they realize he found you. The sight of them strikes you; your fiercely loyal group of friends that would go to the ends of the earth for you. To your surprise, you are relieved to see them.

But their anger is palpable. Draco’s jaws clenched tight. Theo’s heavy eyes claiming the darkness. Blaise’s hands rolled into fists. Lorenzo steps forward, eyes soft, holding out a gentle hand. 

“Let’s get you to the common room, and you can tell us-” he turns to the other boys before emphasizing his next words, “-what you’re comfortable with, if you want to talk at all.”

You nod in agreement, taking his hand while Pansy takes your other one. In your head, you’re thanking whatever higher power put Lorenzo on this planet. The voice of reason amidst all chaos.

—

It’s nearly 2AM now. You’re sat on the common room couch in front of the blazing fireplace under a mess of blankets, warming up after your frigid nap. Theo on your left, Lorenzo on your right holding your tea, Draco and Mattheo sitting on the coffee table facing you, with Blaise and Pansy on the floor. All with mixed looks of curiosity, empathy, and sheer rage.

After thinking it over, you decided to prioritize yourself for once. A lot of people don’t realize how hard a decision that can be. This is a risky favor to ask for. But there’s only a couple truly precious things in the world you can’t live without, and this is one of them. You want your fucking bookstore back.

So, you tell them. Everything.

As you recall the events of the last few weeks, you feel the air become tense. Blaise looks like he’s about to combust. Theo reaches for your hand, letting you fiddle with the bracelet on his wrist. You hear Pansy call this boy every name in the book under her breath, your favorite being “bastardly filth”. Draco and Mattheo listen, periodically looking at each other with knowing stares, having their own wordless conversation. You know those looks. Plotting looks.

When you finish, you’re briefly met with silence, temporarily paralyzing you. Do they believe me?

You break the stillness. “I suppose I’m making a big deal out of something quite trivial.” You say to them, diminishing your story, and for what?

Mattheo stands up, ushering Blaise and Pansy out of the way as he kneels in front of you. He rests a comforting hand on your knee, his eyes glowing with brutal honesty.

“It’s really very simple, little dove. You’re in danger, we take down the threat. I can assure you we all agree that your safety is anything but trivial.” He states. He gives your knee a squeeze. “Gonna be honest though, Y/N. It’s going to be ugly for him when he meets us.”

You look up to Draco, who’s been oddly quiet since you all got back. You hold his gaze as you respond.

“Good. Send him my regards.” You reply, earning a wicked grin from him, his eyes suddenly crinkled and brimming with pride. Everyone shifts a bit in their seats, wrapping up the late night discussion.

Draco strides over to you, taking the teacup from your hands and setting it down on a side table. He looks so handsome like this, facing you on the couch with his hair disheveled and the top of his shirt buttons undone. The glow from the fire accenting his features, so sharp yet yearning for sleep. He takes your face in his warm hands.

“I need you to hear me right now. Listening?” he asks. You give an unconvincing nod as his thumb caresses your cheek. Yes, but damn you make it hard to.

His stare intensifies, pulling you from your trance and forcing you to dial in to his statement.

“Never feel bad for wanting them to pay for the pain and discomfort they inflict on you. Their reasons were senseless, yours are justified.”

For the first time tonight, just for a moment, you feel sure of yourself. You wrap your arms around him, pulling yourself closer, his body becoming your safe haven. His hands nestle you to his chest as you feel him place a kiss on the top of your head.

He loves you and you know it. He’ll wait for this to pass, for things to be right. He’ll wait for you to feel whole and secure again. And he’ll do whatever it takes to help you get you there, even if that means giving you space.

As Pansy sees the two of you off to bed, you repeat his sentiment to her. “My god, that bloody boy is down bad, and I mean bad, for you Y/N.”

Ascending the staircase to your dorm, you faintly hear Draco informing the boys of the plan.

“Tomorrow. Noon.” He demands. The boys nod. He pauses before adding another instruction.

“Oh, and we’re gonna need a bag. We’ve got books to bring home.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[rafesangelita]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ RAFE + THE !READER’S AND THEIR KINKS

warnings: dark content ahead! please do not read if you don’t feel comfortable with any of the kinks listed!

a/n: some of these might not be considered ‘kinks’ but instead things that both rafe and !reader may particularly enjoy. special thank you to @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea and always listening to my rambles <3333 consider this my christmas gift to you ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

wc: 5.0k

⭑.ᐟ bambi!reader

cnc: these two have a meeting and go over all of their fantasies. while bambi’s suggestions are more tame, rafe is going all out, suggesting that he kidnaps her, holds her at gun/knife point, along with making another safe word just for the sole purpose of dismissing it. he’s covering bambi’s mouth while she’s screaming for him to get off of her, fucking her with so much force that her body scoots up on whatever surface rafe has her on. she’s pushing away, or trying to at least, and rafe is just so much stronger than her that he doesn’t budge. “look at you, so pathetic and weak..” rafe would laugh at her, making her cry as she helplessly took his cock.

rope play: no one can convince me that rafe wasn’t a boy scout when he was little. he’s very knowledgeable of different knots and ties and made it a point to start experimenting with you, tying you up in grotesque positions purely for his enjoyment. even tying your arms behind your back in intricate weaves was enough to get him going. he’d take full advantage of you in your restraints, fucking you past overstimulation, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you cry out in both agony and bliss. your fingers would gradually grow numb, along with the rest of your body until rafe untied you, indents from the rope adorning your flesh.

outdoor sex: an innocent little picnic can quickly turn into rafe pushing your head into the grass while he fists your panties, dragging them down your thighs before bunching your dress up and slamming into you without warning. he can’t quite pin point when this became a ‘thing’ between you two, but fuck he knew you loved it. maybe it was because of the scenery or being far away from anyone being able to see or hear you two, but sex out in the middle of nowhere was thrilling for you both. bambi already spent a lot of her time outside, so whenever rafe would join her and do what he does best; making her cum around his cock, it was like her two favorite worlds collided.

asphyxiation: this was first done on accident when rafe was fucking your throat and smothering your face at the same time. seeing the way you gasped for air after he pulled you off of his cock was nothing short of gratifying. but seeing the way you were eager to do it again was even better. from that point forward he would do anything and everything to cut off your intake of air. covering your nose when you sucked him off, choking you during sex until you were on the verge of blacking out, pinning you down by your neck so your windpipe was being crushed. of course he educated both you and himself, and took your little taps of surrender very seriously.

predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.

⭑.ᐟ sheep!reader

slapping: whether rafe is slapping the swells of your tits, the fleshy globes of your ass, or your poor overstimulated clit, he loves seeing your body jolt at his touch. he especially likes slapping you in the face when he’s pounding into you, the small flash of hurt passing over your features shooting straight to his cock. he’s smiling while you’re flinching every time he picks his hand up, his large palm meeting your soft skin with a harsh smack! he knows you’re far too timid and shy to tell him to stop, small whimpers leaving your lips at the stinging sensation. once he’s done with you, your skin is raw and sensitive to the touch, rafe always making sure to soothe you and comfort you afterwards.

corruption: you were just a pretty, clueless virgin when he met you, and still pretty and clueless after he broke you in. rafe still see’s you as a saint even when he’s fingering you to tears, your tight walls spasming around his digits. he treats every time like it’s your first time all overs again, the idea of getting you addicted to his cock was enough to make him cum. he loved to see the confused, yet desperate plea in your eyes for him to turn you inside out. the fact that he’s the only one who has ever seen you unravel makes his chest fill with pride. to know that he’s the one who turned you into a cock-hungry slut to begin with does wonders for his ego.

dacryphilia: rafe does things to purposely make sheep cry. pinching her clit, fucking her so hard that his tip is nudging her cervix with every thrust, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing them together with a bruising grip, he loves seeing those sparkly eyes watering with tears. if he has you on your knees, he won’t stop fucking your throat until you have tears running down your neck and chest. rafe thinks sheep looks prettiest when she’s an utter mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips are his favorite look on her. even when she’s crying and upset about something, he can’t help but guide her hand to his aching length, promising her that she’ll feel better once she makes him cum.

orgasm denial: the way that rafe keeps sheep needy and ready to fuck whenever he wants is by denying her orgasms. waiting until her eyes are rolling to the back of her head before pulling away and making her clench around nothing. “nononono, please, rafe! i need it!” she’s clinging onto him, trying to keep him near as much as she could before he’s swatting her hands away. “gotta keep you on your toes, ‘doll.” he’s rough when he holds her down, stroking himself until he’s painting her tummy with his seed. sexually frustrated and sad that he didn’t fill her up instead, she’s bending to his every will later on when he wants to go for round two.

overstimulation: if sheep isn’t getting denied an orgasm, she’s getting a load of them until she’s physically trying to run away from rafe. while he’s doing everything he can to keep her cumming, she’s convulsing, shaking and trembling, writhing in pain as rafe works her poor, sensitive bud. using his fingers, tongue and cock, he tells sheep to keep count and if she messes up then he has to start from zero again. sheep is brainless after the first three, her train of thought being completely gone as rafe fights with her to keep her thighs open. “no more, no more, no more..” she’s repeating it like a mantra, rafe ignoring her pleas for him to stop.

⭑.ᐟ latina!kook!reader

praise: rafe is having a hard time believing that his favorite latina is even letting him touch her, so he’s doing everything he can to remember this moment. he’s telling you how good your perfume smells, marveling at how soft your skin feels under his touch, admiring and staring at your body in awe as if to remember every curve and detail. you’re looking in his eyes while he raves about never seeing someone as beautiful as you. “you’re so fucking gorgeous, holy shit.” rafe is in disbelief when he finally gets you out of your clothes, his eyes instinctively blinking as he didn’t know what to take in first.. your angelic face, show-stopping tits, or glistening pussy.

language: hearing you speak in your mother tongue is going to do it for rafe every single time. whether you’re cursing at him or grabbing him through his pants, whispering; “lo quiero, papi— i want it, daddy..” his cock springs up at the sound of your voice. you’ve taught him enough spanish for him to reply to certain things, your favorite phrase of his being, “mírame, muñeca— look at me, doll.” when you’re shying away from the intensity of his gaze. rafe loved hearing all the words falling from your lips, especially when a particular thrust of his hips made your voice crack at the end of your sentences. “keep talking to me, hermosa— beautiful, i need to hear you.”

mirror sex: you didn’t have not one bad side. in rafe’s eyes you were absolutely flawless. after the first time you two had sex, he knew immediately that he needed to see you at every angle. getting a mirror installed on the ceiling right above his bed was the first step, then it was a mirrored headboard.. and then two full length mirrors that sat in the opposite corners of his room. the man was obsessed with watching you. if he had you in doggy, he could still get a full view of your face twisting in pleasure along with the bounce of your tits. on days where you wanted to ride him, he’d watch in awe as the globes of your ass met his thighs with a ripple effect adorning the fleshy skin.

body worship: similar to praise, rafe is whispering sweet nothings against your skin, his hands working to massage your calves as he presses kisses to your thighs. he’s holding onto you, eyes closed as he takes in your scent. “you’re so perfect.” rafe sounds like a broken record as he kisses your knuckles, and up your arm to the curve of your shoulder until he finally gets to your lips. his hands are roaming your body even as he’s inside of you, his soft touch a stark contrast to his hard thrusts. not a single inch of your body goes untouched by this man. he pays attention to every single thing, from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes, he makes sure you feel like a goddess at all times.

tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!kook!reader

choking: while rafe loves to choke you in order for you to keep your sassy remarks to yourself, he nearly loses it when you take charge and wrap your hand around the column of his throat instead. he loves the push and pull of your shared dynamic. when he has you pinned down by your neck, it’s useless to deem it a punishment since you always end up liking the pain more than the pleasure. rafe can’t help but curse to himself at the sight of the smirk adorning your lips when he’s cutting off your airway. “no way you’re loving this shit right now..” both of your voices are hoarse once you’re done with each other, the sound making you two look at each other smugly.

hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.

impact play: if you and rafe weren’t hitting and shoving each other into his room when you wanted to jump each other’s bones then you weren’t doing it right. slamming you against the wall while he was inside of you, slapping him across the face when he did something a little too hard, it was all apart of your little dance together and you two fucking lived for it. rafe loved that he didn’t have to be so soft and gentle with you, and even more so when he found someone who finally didn’t treat him like he was made of glass and used the same force against him. the roughness and complete disregard for one another’s feelings in those very moments was addicting to say the least.

degradation: this was bitchy!kook!reader’s specialty. telling rafe how stupid and pathetic he is for spamming her phone with desperate texts, telling him he’s worthless and that the only thing he’s good for is being her boy toy. she’s bringing up the times when rafe was begging her to let him eat her out, calling him names and laughing in his face when he looks the slightest bit embarrassed. rafe isn’t letting up on you either, he’s cussing in your ear, calling you a bitch and a ‘spoiled fuckin’ brat’ as he folds you in half. both of you revel in the weight of your insults, the words only making both of you needy to prove the other wrong. ‘just shut your fucking mouth already..’

possessiveness: despite ‘hating’ each other, there’s nothing neither of you hated more than seeing each other in close proximity with someone else. rafe hated your friends, all of them always trying to introduce someone to you in hopes that they could get you to leave rafe alone once and for all. of course, later on that night when the party is over and the place is cleared, he’s pounding into you like he has something to prove. “you’re fuckin’ stupid if you thought i was gonna let you leave with that asshole.” he has you in a head lock, his toned stomach smacking the back of your ass as he choked you out with his bicep. “no one else could ever make you feel like this.”

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!pogue!reader

recording: she’s rafe’s personal pornstar without a doubt. bitchy!pogue!reader knows she looks amazing every second of the day, even when her mouth is full of cock, so when she see’s rafe pull out his camera, she’s really giving him a show. “you fuckin’ slut, i could make millions off of you..” rafe would say after she made him cum on her face and tits. rafe loved to keep documentation of bitchy!pogue!reader almost begging to tears for rafe to fuck her already, the footage coming in handy when she decides to wake up with an attitude and tells him that he’s lucky that you even let him fuck, let alone talk to you. he has the camera in your face the same night, grunting out “aww what’s wrong? ‘still think you’re too good for this cock now?”

rough sex: these two turn ‘rough sex’ into an umbrella term with all of the depraved shit that they do. smacking your skin until you’re bruised, scratching rafe until you draw blood, thrusting into you so hard that you let out a shriek with every stroke of his hips, and this isn’t including all of the choking, biting, and hair pulling that both of you do while you’re at it. rafe is ruthless in the bedroom, often leaving you bedridden by the time he’s done plowing into your poor, sensitive cunt. this was what regular sex was like between you two, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. it drove rafe crazy to know that you were so willing and just as sick and twisted as him to take his shit.

humiliation: this was a two way street for both you and rafe. he would say that he could never be seen with a stripper on his arm since he was sure the entire island had already been with you before, and you would say that you wouldn’t want to be seen with a pathetic loser with daddy issues and a drug problem to cope, anyways. both of you knew that the shit talking that you were doing was only foreplay for the activities you were going to do later. sure enough, he’s taking you in the country club bathroom, all of the grand parents there staring at your provocative outfit in disbelief. “please don’t make me moan loud..” you’d whimper, rafe wrapping a fist in your hair. “nah, you’re gonna let this whole club know that you’re nothing but an easy hooker.”

face fucking: once rafe got started on this, it was never-ending. he’d have you on your knees wherever you two were at, forcing you to keep your hands behind your back as he used your throat like a cock sleeve. he’s pulling at the roots of your hair with a strangled groan, the sound of his length sliding in and out from between your lips making his eyes roll to the back of his head. it’s messy and sticky, your cheeks full of tears as spit and precum dribble down your chin, your jaw aching for a break. “fuck, just look at you.. ‘bet you don’t have shit to bitch about now, do you?” still managing to roll your eyes at him, rafe chuckles to himself before picking up his pace.

dumbification: your walls are fluttering around rafe’s cock when he tells you things like; “you’re a dumb, stupid, slut who doesn’t know how to do anything except take dick.” and calling you a brainless bimbo with nothing but tits for brains. you’re nodding along to his words, not caring about how much he’s dumbing you down. in this very moment, with his hips slamming into yours, you were brainless.. not a single thought behind your fucked out gaze. “just prancing around in your heels like a clueless fuckin’ bunny, not knowing shit..” he’s delivering each word with a punctuated thrust, your back arching into his chest when you feel the rough pads of his fingers on your sensitive clit.

⭑.ᐟ kook!sweetheart!reader

sexting: boyyyy you two can sext for hours at a time. once the clock hits ten and your phone dings with a ‘you up, beautiful?’ from none other than rafe himself, you’re faking a yawn and telling your parents you’re gonna cut the movie short tonight because you’re so sleepy. as soon as you’re laid in your bed, your room door locked until further notice, you’re sending rafe all the pretty nudes you took for him since the last time you two sexted. rafe is fisting his cock as your pictures come in one by one, his bottom lip pulled haphazardly between his teeth to keep himself from moaning out loud. in return, rafe is also sending you pictures of himself. shirtless gym pics, his bulges when he wakes up thinking about you, and your personal favorite; his bare cock and the aftermath of stroking himself to your sexy photos.

lingerie: this was only fitting considering you were a whole designer with your own lingerie brand. rafe hadn’t really developed his kink for fucking you in your lingerie until you started surprising him, the lace and sometimes satin material looking just gorgeous against your skin. besides the obvious fact that you looked stunning in your sets, he thinks the reason why he appreciated it a lot more is because he knows you thought about him when choosing which one to wear. “do you like it?” was possibly the most dumbest question you could’ve ever asked him. of course, you got your answer when he pulled you on top of him, moving your panties over to the side before slamming you down onto his length.

cum play: rafe died and came back to life when he watched you smear his cum over your lips the first time you took his length into your mouth. and then he died again on a separate occasion when he came on your tits, your pretty manicured fingers swirling his seed over your sensitive buds. now every time he finished, if it wasn’t inside of you, he watched with a bated breath as you tasted him before pulling him down into a kiss. your tongues clashed, both of you moaning as you made out with his cum in your mouths. you shared spit, making a mess out of each other until you were begging him to cum again. “please, i want more, rafe..”

pussy eating: he needs it. he needs to have kook!sweetheart!reader’s thighs locked down to his shoulders while he works his skillful tongue on her pussy. she’s whimpering above him, wrapping her hands around his large fingers as he gently circles her clit. rafe is easily eating her out for an hour before another hour passes and she’s a mess. having orgasmed at least ten times, rafe is very controlled and knows how to bring her up before pushing her over the edge and letting her fall ever so graciously into another orgasm one after the other. the lower half of his face is soaked, and when he looks up at you from between your thighs, the sight of him is burned into your mind forever.

cockwarming: one of rafe’s favorites. whenever you and rafe are in the bliss of aftercare, he stays nestled inside of you, both of you kissing each other lazily while he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “think you could keep still?” you teased, rafe laughing softly as you clenched around him, almost as if to provoke him to move. not even ten minutes later, you’re slowly circling your hips, desperate for any kind of friction while rafe holds you in place. “i knew you were gonna put out.” rafe groaned, moving gently as he rolled over on top of you. ignoring him, you dug your heels into his lower back, prompting him to keep going. “yeah, yeah, just fuck me— oh!”

⭑.ᐟ farmer’s!daughter!reader

size kink: cowboy!rafe is hugeee, and (un)fortunately for you, also hung like a fucking horse. his entire body envelopes yours when he’s on top of you, only half of his cock fitting inside of you before he’s forcing you to take the whole thing. feeling like his length and the sheer girth of him is splitting you open, you’re looking down at where you two are connected, your eyes wide as you see what looks like a belly bulge coming up from under your flesh. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you’re delirious as the big, strong man above you drills into you at an unforgiving speed. his hand is large enough to wrap around the entirety of your neck, your chest caving in once you felt the band in your tummy snap.

dirty talk: rafe knew exactly what to say in order to get your cheeks heating. “you don’t think i know wet you are right now? i bet i could slip right in ya’..” you’re gasping at the lewdness of his words, hiding your face from his view as he stroked the exposed flesh of your waist. “ray!” you laughed nervously, both of you hiding in his little house that was in the back of your own. “you know i’m right.. that’s why you’re getting all shy on me right now.” he scoots closer, his lips trailing along your collarbone. “let me take this shirt off, ‘get these tits in my mouth.” being around a horny cowboy wasn’t good for your heart. “oh, my word! your mouth is filthy!”

daddy kink: the basis of you and rafe’s relationship was that you were together secretly, your father forbidding rafe from dating you, let alone looking in your direction. he wasn’t fond of your dad for that very reason. every time he’s asking you who your pussy belongs to, he’s forcing you to refer to him as a different name other than his own. “you, daddy! oh, fuck, i belong to you!” you’re crying out, the name falling from your lips before you could stop it. the fact that he had you, the farmer’s daughter, in his bed, calling him daddy when he knew your actual father hated him, stroked his ego more than your cunt did. “yeah, i’m your daddy? say it again.” you oblige, your eyes screwing shut as the plap of your ass against his thighs echoed in your ears.

mating press: seeing your glossy eyes gaze up at him while he had your knees pressed to your chest was hands down one of his favorite sights. with the back of his hands sitting underneath your hips, your lower half was slightly elevated, your needy cunt guaranteed to take all of his cum. in this position, you swore it felt like he was in your tummy. “nghhh— can’t, rafe!” you shook your head, your eyes brimming with tears as he leaned down, taking your lips in a bruising kiss. “shhh, of course you can, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me right now.” the wet squelch of your cunt made rafe keen, his lips wet with your spit. “gonna fill you up to the fuckin’ brim..”

breeding kink: you dreamed about having cowboy!rafe’s babies, both of you always talking about having little ones running around the farm. rafe saw it vividly— your pretty round belly, swollen with his seed, a baby on your hip while you greeted him after a full day of work. it’s all he could envision while he’s pumping in and out of you, your sweet moans sounding against his skin. “i’m gonna make you such a pretty mom, baby, you just fuckin’ wait.” he grunted, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he went even deeper inside your cunt. biting back tears, you let out a half-sob as he continuously hit that sensitive spot along your velvety walls. “you’d want that, right?” rafe still asks even though his mind is already made up. “duh!”

⭑.ᐟ pogue!sweetheart!reader

spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..

food play: pogue!sweetheart!reader is basically our little strawberry shortcake. always whipping things up in the kitchen with rafe pressed against her ass was bound to lead to some interesting experiments. first it was strawberries, you and rafe sharing one before he dragged the fruit up the curve of your neck, licking the sweet, succulent juice that had dripped down to you chest. the second time around, before you two decided to incorporate it more regularly, you two were having a lazy day, both of you sharing some whipped cream you had made. you had playfully licked some off of rafe’s finger before he got the crazy idea to lick it from other places, too..

cream pie: rafe was obsessed with watching his cum drip out of you. he’d pull out halfway while you were still clenching around him, forcing you to look down so you could see the glorious sight of his twitching cock filling you up before pulling out altogether. you two would wait with bated breath’s, a moan leaving your lips as you felt the warm ropes of cum slowly drip out of your entrance. rafe’s chest would be rising and falling as he used the tip of his cock to smear his seed up and down your folds, even taking the time to circle your sensitive clit. “oh, fuck, this is amazing..” he’d marvel, gathering the sticky succulence before pushing it back into you.

marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss

soft/vanilla sex: rafe loved taking his time with you, especially because he knew you were sentimental about everything. holding your hands while his head was working between your thighs, looking into your eyes the whole time he was pounding into you, the gentle touches against your skin as he hoisted you up further onto your bed, it was all his way of handling you with care. he’d peck the tip of your nose when you were cumming, his fingers bringing you down from your high as he held you against his chest. whispering praises in your ear, rafe wouldn’t start aftercare until you were gazing up at him lovingly, and that was even sweeter.

[howtofightwrite]

So. There is no safe place (in the body) to be shot. There are places that are slightly safer than others to be stabbed (i.e. being stabbed in the meat of your calf is less likely to be lethal than your torso). For the purposes of an arrow wound, which feels like a combination of shot+stab for a swords n sorcery world, is there a “less lethal” place to take an arrow? My character is traveling with companions and gets into a fun little goblin skirmish. I need her to catch an arrow somewhere that will be concerning, but not immediately fatal. Magic Bullshit™️ will keep the wound from healing properly for a few days, but I’ve accounted for field wound care (cleaning and bandaging and such) as she’s being taken on horseback to get proper treatment.

Not deeply.

So, the problem with all of these is tissue disruption. If the injury gets deep enough, the chances that it will hit something vital (especially on the torso) increase dramatically. So, getting stabbed and having the blade catch bone, instead of getting in deeper is “relatively” safe. Similarly, getting stabbed (or shot) in the hand or foot is unlikely to kill you (though, those injuries are likely to result in permanent damage impairing the use of injured appendage.)

Arrows are a little different, in a couple of ways. First, if you get shot, you do not want to pull that off (nor break it off and push it through.) That will increase the risk of bleeding out. Arrows make fairly large holes in people, but if the arrow sticks in the wound (which, it should) it will actually limit the amount of bleeding. Effectively the wound has a partial plug in it. Pulling out the arrow means that plug is no longer there, and they can happily bleed to death on the spot.

The second thing about arrows is that they actually pin muscle together. Think of it a bit like holding two pieces of meat together with a toothpick. If the toothpick isn't there, the pieces can slide across each other without issue, but that's not possible when there's a wooden shaft running through them. Your muscles are a complex web of meat, that slide over each other as you move. Pinning those together means that part of your body will actually lock up. For example, if you're shot in the shoulder, you won't be able to adjust the position of your arm. It's been toothpicked, and it's not going anywhere.

Arrowheads can get wedged in bone. If it's a broad head, or hunting tip, that will be obnoxious to get out.

At the risk of reading too much into your setting, goblins often means poisons, or other nastiness. Though, really, even just getting a tetanus infection (it used to be called “lock jaw”) from their blades is a pretty horrific potential fate. Even if the wounds themselves were relatively minor (cuts and scrapes, maybe a graze or two), a couple days might still result in some pretty horrific harm after the fact.

Also, remember, it's unlikely that bacteria will be understood by the medical science of your setting. So, first aid would still run a real risk of secondary infections.

Depending on their skill in first aid, anything outside of a severed artery or catastrophic organ damage should be (technically) survivable, though the wounds could easily result in permanent impairments, depending on exactly what was hit. A punctured lung might not kill her, but it could result in permanent respiratory issues, such as a cough, and chronic pain while breathing heavily from then on. It could also result in pneumonia and death, which is also, usually, pretty permanent.

Some of this depends more on where you want to land on a spectrum between dark fantasy and swords & sorcery. The genres are similar (and potentially overlapping), but can scatter out into dramatically different works. But, you do have some options on how you want to proceed.

-Starke

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[satorusugurugurl]

Malevolent Queen

Summary: During his reign in the Heian Era, Sukuna is used to Jujutus Sorcerers attempting to exorsize or seal him. What he wasn't used to was you. You were the strongest he'd faced in a long time. You were so strong, he had to make you his.

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x FAB!Jujutus Sorcerer

Word Count: 1,507

Warnings: Smut, fighting, (corruption kink?)

A/N: This was a fun suggestion submitted by @sukunasfangurl! I had so much fun writing this while I did my infinity hoop. I hope you enjoy!

Sukuna wasn’t at all phased when he heard a commotion outside his chambers. He glanced at the door briefly before laying his head back down amongst the mountains of pillows flooding his bed. It was most likely another puny sorcerer trying to exorcize him. His loyal followers would be able to handle such a futile attempt.

Why should he raise a finger against the weak?

What he had not been anticipating was for his chamber door to fly open, quite literally off the hinges. Which was surprising, seeing as they had to weigh over two hundred pounds from being adorned with gold. But what was even more surprising was catching sight of the person responsible for the destruction.

A puny jujutsu sorcerer stepped into his chambers. Who was a woman, nonetheless? A woman? How did you manage to get past his forces?

“Ryomen Sukuna!” You yelled. Blood splattered your face as tears left streaks through the crimson. “I’ve come to exorcize you!”

“Foolish woman,” he barked, “you will do no such thing! I, however, will be sending you to meet your maker.”

Sukuna moved in a flash, appearing before your eyes. Killing you would be simple; all he needed to do was rip your throat open with his nails. Doing so would allow him to watch your pretty face turn pale as your blood stained his floor. His fantasies shattered the second he towered over you because you slammed a black flash punch directly into his abdomen.

The blow sent him flying back, hitting the wall with a sickening crunch. He remained still, trying to process what had just occurred. You, a woman, had sent him crashing into a wall. Your body was radiating with cursed energy. The raw power had your hair flying back as you approached him. The sight of you drowning in fury had sent blood rushing to his cock.

“You slayed an entire village! One that so selflessly helped me! Every innocent man, woman, and child!!” You unsheathed your katana. “For that, you will pay with your life!!”

Amid your monologue, Sukuna’s eyes trailed over your body, from the curves of your figure to the mounds of your breasts. Your kimono was stained with blood, soot, and dirt. Despite the gore, your beauty was indescribable. Not only were you seemingly strong, but you were far more beautiful than any of his concubines. He might even say the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

You charged at him again, katana slashing forward, embedded with your cursed energy. Sukuna easily dodged your attack this time, and he was happy that he did. Because of your attack, a crater was now embedded in his wall.

“You're strong, human.”

“Coming from you, that's a compliment.” You barked back, slashing again. This time, he blocked it, grimacing as you stared into each other's eyes. “But flattery will not save your head!” You screamed, slashing over and over again.

Sukuna’s cock throbbed as he smirked. He hadn’t been this entertained in months. His grin slowly faded as you dropped to the ground, spinning to knock him off his feet with your leg. While falling, you hit him with another black flash, a scream of anguish following your movements.

The pure rage in your eyes had Sukuna in awe as you tossed your katana to the side. Your movements were fast, like a viper, and Sukuna watched you straddle his hips, holding your kunai against his throat. He waited for you to say something instead, but words seemed to evade you as your cheeks turned a bright red.

For the first time since you had entered the room, you let your guard down. All because you could feel a hard cock pressing against your ass. You had to be dreaming; this wasn’t real. The King of Curses was not erect right now. But as you pushed back against the bulge, he groaned out loud, smirking.

“I can confirm that it is, in fact, my cock.”

“You’re disgusting!”

Sukuna’s large, calloused hands rested on your hips, holding you in place. “Me? Not in the slightest.” He admired your features, not that you say above him. “Those villagers you were so distraught over, they were disgusting.” When all you did was cock your head in confusion, Sukuna's smirk grew wider. “They tried offering me their children in exchange for safety from the Jujutsu Sorcerer they claimed to have saved.” Your look of shock had him chuckling. “So I just took it upon myself to kill them all. Imagine my disappointment when I didn’t find a sorcerer there.”

“You’re a lair.” You gritted out through your teeth.

“Don’t believe me? I’m happy to show you the letter they sent.”

Curses were liars, and this specific one happened to be The King of Curses! He would lie about anything to save his skin. It would be better for you and the rest of the world to end his life right now!

His words, however, struck a chord in you. So you allowed him to show you said proof, which he had. Reading the words over and over again soured your stomach. How could they offer their children to beg Sukuna to get rid of you after they had sheltered you and tended to your wounds?

“Humans truly are such parasitic creatures.” Sukuna all but cooed next to your ear as you dropped the letter. “Willing to sacrifice one another just to continue their messily pathetic lives.”

His words had you turning towards him. “They were monsters.” You grimaced at the thought of their children being sacrificed.

“The world is better off without them,” he whispered in your ear, “I want to make this a better world for people like me. A world I would like to keep you in.” His tongue darted out, trailing down your neck. “You’re the strongest, most brutal woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of fighting. What do you say about ruling by my side? Together, we can rid this world of these parasites. What do you say, my malevolent queen.”

You wanted to deny him, to tell him that he was insane. He would never stoop to his level, but you had seen the proof, the cold, hard evidence. That proved humans were just as bad as curses. If not worse.

He was right.

Which was how you ended up on his bed, bouncing up and down on his cock. “Fuck~ yes, take what you want! Show me your power.” Sukuna’s hands gripped your hips so hard you were certain that you would have marks there, along with the rest of your body. You would be a tapestry of his kisses and bruising fingertips.

“Lord Sukuna~!” You screamed as he hammered his cock up into your cunt with such power and speed that it had you seeing stars.

“Take my cock~ take it inside that tight wet cunt!~”

“Yes, my lord!” You cried out as he reached his hand up, choking you. “S-Sukuna!” You cried out as you slammed yourself in tandem with his thrusts.

“You’re mine now, little sorcerer. Together, we will rule the world, my queen!”

Between his words and his hand wrapped around your throat, you stood no chance against him. It was as though he was made for you. His cock hit your G-spot perfectly. The two of you fit together like two shards of broken glass. It was hard to imagine wanting to kill him now that he was inside of you. He had shown you the truth.

A truth you would not stand by.

Sukuna smirked, his free hand reaching down and rubbing your clit back and forth. He could see the darkness, the blood lust in your eyes. The desire to rule with him, to make this a world for the two of you! He had never been so thrilled someone had come to kill him.

“Cum on my cock Y/N~ cum for your king!”

Sukuna squeezed your throat harder, cutting off your air as your body jerked, as you squirted all over his crotch and ab’s. The intensity of your orgasm sent Sukuna into his own. His nails dug into your skin as he brutally fucked you. His cock slams into your cervix with each thrust. You gasped for air as he used both his hands to slam you down on him, your bodies conjoined in the rawest form.

Your eyes fluttered, exhaustion from the fighting and the sex overcoming you. Your palms pressed firmly against his chest as you sighed, happy to finally rest. The rest was short-lived asSukuna laughed maniacally, flipping you over, pushing you into the blankets that smelt of sweat and sex.

“We’re far from being over. I don’t plan on stopping until your cunt has every vein of my cock memorized Y/N.” You cried out in pained pleasure as Sukuna snapped his hips into you. Sukuna grinned. You had no one but yourself to blame. You were the strongest he’d faced in a long while, and you would be able to handle this.

[gladiatorcunt]

Feral feral Anakin fucking you every second of the day because he can’t get enough of you and is overly obsessed

send me coryo, luke castellan, or anakin asks (this is a threat)

implied canon compliant prequels and childhood friend afab royalty reader (basically in padme's place) based on an upcoming fic

This is canon Anakin behavior actually, he's like a big dog with his favorite chew toy. The dog obviously loves the toy a lot but it's because of his love that the toy becomes well used. No matter how tattered it becomes, the dog will still curl around it and spend its days licking the hell out of it until it withers away.

I think that because of how he grew up, just a little boy on some ball of sand whose life really didn't belong to him, as soon as he's free from that he just unravels. I love Anakin being written as more unhinged or even slightly like an eldritch horror, because suddenly he has this big destiny laid out in front of him and the tethers holding his soul together inevitably come unhooked. I think that he's wired like that from the beginning, very passionate but without a means to express it.

So, when he meets you, little royal heir with all the stars of the galaxy in your eyes, he tells a familiar story about an angel and from then on, it's over for him. Every moment of his life orbits around the sun in his solar system, you.

The first think he thinks when he sees you again, is how your moans would echo off the windows when he eats you out on one of the couches. Then he imagines your perfectly manicured hands clawing delicious ribbons down his back while he rabidly pounds your sopping wet pussy against the wall of your huge walk-in closet in your apartment. He'd have to hold a hand over your mouth, but he wouldn't do a thing to clean up the slicks that drips out of your pussy onto the floor. You'd pout as you'd rush to get ready before Obi-Wan came back, and all he'd be able to do in response is hook his chin over your shoulder and smile.

"No, it's because I'm so in love with you."

You're leaning against a balcony overlooking a lake in Naboo and all he can think about as he strokes a shy finger down your back is hiking your dress up and bending you over it. You're chained to a pillar in between him and Obi-Wan, and when all is said and done, he wishes he killed everybody that was relishing in your suffering in that arena and fucked you with their blood coating his body. He could go on forever until the last grain of sand on Tatooine flies away. He'd have gotten you barefoot and pregnant immediately if the leash around his neck was any looser.

No matter the fantasy or the moment, you always have at least one mark on you. He's not patient enough for hickies and his fingers move too quickly for any serious bruises to form on your body. He favors bite marks, near perfect impressions of his teeth etched in your soft skin. He doesn't bite to tear, just does his repeated 'chomp!'s without a single thought in his head; your thighs bear the brunt of it. Anakin likes when drops of blood bead at the surface of the bites, because then he can lick the bites soothingly. You usually have to run your fingers through his hair to get him to come back to himself when he starts doing it on autopilot with his eyes rolled back.

"Yes, yes, yessssss.... love fucking my cunt, missed making love to my sloppy pussy. Taking my dick so well, keep breathing with me, my love. That's it, just like that."

His way of saying good morning is languid strokes deep in your guts. His way of saying good night is crazed thrusts that have him putting it back it when his frenzied pace causes his length to slip out. He has is so hard sometimes, determined to carry the entire galaxy on his shoulders with you on top of it. You can the rising anger that builds within him when everything he does to prove himself goes unrecognized. The best way he has to ignore all of that outside responsibility is knocking your sweaty body up the bed while you're clutching the headboard for dear life.

Anakin's emotions bleed from him so openly, and all you have to do is drink them in. Because even though he wasn't free when he met you, you owned him them with his gift around your neck. You own him now, your cervix kissing his mushroom tip in its own display of affection. He is supposed to live his life with the intention to be the force's son, but he is burning to ash faster than he is fulfilling his destiny; at least he can keep you and your future children warm.

[mochinomnoms]

PTM Question: If Yuu were actually trying to make Jade short circuit, what would they do or say?

Alternatively, PTM Yuu gets nostalgic about an old S/O from their world and a certain eel happens to overhear. Is the result an angry eel, a sulking eel, or an opportunistic one?

Being able to read minds makes these sorts of things much easier, especially for someone as secretive as Jade. Luckily for Yuu, a lot fo Jade's fantasies are relatively easy to feed into, though the more explicit ones are not viable for them most of the time.

Jade's biggest thing is being able to take care of Yuu. I feel that I've stated it so often that it's becoming repetitive, but Jade does really like being depended on! And Yuu can very easily feed into this by giving Jade a sweet tone and asking, “Jade? I'm having trouble, can you pleeease help me? You're always super good at everything!”

It's the pretty sound of their voice and the way they almost give him puppy eyes that basically turn him into this:

I'm positive that someone even edit an image of him with these quote, and it's very correct because Yuu could very much just bat their eyes and get whatever they want from him! He lives to help and serve, just like the Sea Witch! And he just happens to like doing it most with Yuu!

However, if they want to specifically make him short circuit...

“Jade?” Said young man looked up, blinking in surprise at how close you were. Not that he was complaining.

“Yes?”

You shifted in your seat, leaning closer and pushing your notebook towards him.

“Can you explain this part to me? I'm having trouble understanding it, and my potion is coming out wrong.”

Jade's breath ever so slightly hitched, before clearing his throat and moving in to look at your notes. He could smell the citrusy body wash you used.

“Let me see...what flowers are you using? Dandelions and often be confused for cat's ear.”

You leaned over to grab at your materials, though Jade swears he saw you arching your back.

No, they wouldn't, no where other than my imagination...

Jade froze as he felt you place a hand on his arm, displaying a bundle of yellow flowers to him with an innocent expression.

“These, I found them outside Ramshackle since Ruggie always says he picks them for salads, are they not it?”

Jade shook his head, brushing over your hand to bring the flowers closer to him to inspect.

“Hmm, the stems are longer and the petals look hairier, see?” He pointed at a few spots on the flower.

“Oh, damn. I was hoping I wouldn't have to buy supplies...”

Jade chuckled before contemplating if he should offer his own.

Ah, I'm more than happy to help you, my pearl! No need to be cautious, I won't hold it against you, perhaps a kiss in exchange for the flowers, fuhuh~

In the back of his mind, he knew that you knew from experience it was better to struggle a bit than to owe someone from Octavinelle. In the back of his mind, he knew you wouldn't ask him for any sort of favors. You were scared of him, understandable, he admits—

“Do you think I could use some of yours? Do you have any to spare?”

Jade paused, blanking for a moment, before looked down at you. You were awfully cute, looking at him with a pout, and you tapped your fingers together.

“Please Jade? Pleeeease?”

Swallowing a lump in his throat and attempting to fight off the blush he knew was coming on, Jade simply nodded and reached under the table for his bag of materials. As he carefully dug through it, he failed to notice you shuffling closer.

“Here,” Jade reached up with three dandelions carefully wrapped in a cloth in his hand. He felt a spark run up his arm as you wrapped your hand around his, no doubt reaching for the flowers. “I have a few extra you can—”

The moment he turned his head, he failed to realize that you'd been leaning down and had your lips purse to press a kiss against his cheek. Instead, you'd brushed against the corner of his mouth, causing you to gasp and bolt back, Jade freezing.

“Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry! I was—your cheek! And then you turned—I wanted to thank—GAH!”

You held the dandelions to your chest, rushing back to your desk, muttering to yourself. Jade thinks he heard you chastising yourself for not paying attention, but really he couldn't process much, still frozen with his hand hovering in place.

Kiss. That was a kiss. He slowly stood back up, turning to his desk and tidying it up.

Kiss. On my lips. Kiss. They practically kissed my lips.

Like a robot programmed to a schedule, Jade spent most of his day quieter than usual. He went to class, to his shift at the lounge, all without saying anything. Just repeating the scene in his mind.

Floyd was even getting worried at how quiet Jade was, poking and prodding at him for a reaction. His twin followed him into his room, still pushing at Jade to say something.

“Come on Jade! What happened? You're never this quiet unless something happened! Did something happen? Did Mama call about Nana? Did you lose a mushroom or something? Jade! You can't just—”

Jade let himself fall onto his bed, face first, burying himself into the soft pillow and covers.

“Jade?” He felt his bed creak as Floyd carefully crawled up and around him. His voice was much closer now as Floyd leaned down. “You okay?”

Floyd could barely hear Jade as he spoke into the pillow, voice muffled. Jade even started clenching his sheets and kicking his feet. Tilting his head and leaning his ear close to his head, Floyd listened.

“…Oh you fucking sap!” Floyd smacked the back of Jade's head, huffing as Jade finally turned his head and smiled up at him.

“You know I hate when you get quiet! All that over some accidental kiss, dumbass! I thought you broke!”

Jade sighed in bliss, ignoring Floyd's smacks on his side and back.

“I just wish I took advantage of it, but I just froze. How unfortunate...”

[tlou-reid]

Cheese Danishes ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner

♡ SUMMARY: aaron is struggling to navigate his feelings, and his fears, as his relationship with his younger graduate student neighbor progress

♡ WARNINGS: smut (piv) mdni, oral (fem recieving), fingering, fluff, angst mentions of criminal minds-esque violence, mentions of haley and george foyet, age gap (mid 20s/mid 40s)

♡ NOTE: the timeline on this is wonky when compared to the show. in my head, aaron and jack did go into witness protection and left for a while, but once foyet was caught aaron returned as unit chief to the BAU. so the team is made up of the people in the later seasons, including prentiss, but aaron is still in charge.

Part one

—♡

Aaron pulled your body tighter against him amidst the start of the season’s first snowfall. “Thank you,” he mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline. It wasn’t very often he allowed himself to stay after you two had been intimate, only after he had been away for a rough case. You basked in the attention every time.

As much as you wanted more, your relationship with Aaron has been primarily physical. You could count on one hand the amount of times you two had a connection outside of sex. It wasn’t necessarily his ideal either, but life gets in the way when you’re pulled away to attend to serial killers every week, in between spending time with your son.

You two lay together for a while, not saying anything. This was the time you used to pretend things had turned out the way you wanted them to. Of course, you lusted over him when you first met. Something about having a sexy, older neighbor fulfilled a fantasy you didn’t know you had. But, over the months you got to spend with him, both before and after your drunken declaration of interest, your feelings for him had evolved.

You’d learned how much more he was than his stoic exterior. He was gentle, like the way his calloused hands caressed your hips as he pulled you into his lap while you made out. He was funny, constantly teasing you for your abnormal habits. He was kind, making sure you were safe and sound before he retreated to his home.

But, most of all, he was distant. Physically distant a good portion of the time, being needed in different parts of the country at any given time. Mostly, he was emotionally distant. It was as if something was tormenting him most of the time, keeping him from truly giving himself to you. Even when he was buried deep inside you, it was as if there was a gap between you, preventing any real connections.

He gave you an even tighter squeeze, warning you he would be leaving soon without using words. You hoped he didn’t notice the way your body tensed back up when he did this, knowing how empty the house would feel in just a few minutes. He let out a familiar sigh, before pressing one more kiss to your forehead. “I should probably head back,” he spoke his usual phrase into the darkness of your bedroom. You nodded against his chest before pulling yourself away from him, allowing him to get up.

He noticed the way you pulled your comforter closer, trying the replace the warmth he had been providing. Aaron’s heart broke, wanting to crawl back next to you and hold you close for the rest of the night. For the rest of his life, if he could.

But, he couldn't. He knew that. If he allowed himself to be honest with you, to tell you all the ways he has fallen for you since you showed up on his doorstep with a container of desserts, he would ruin everything you had. Whether it be from him not being able to handle his own emotions, or something as terrifying as George Foyet, something would ruin the sparse nights he got to spend with you. He came with too much baggage, too many ways you could be hurt, to allow himself to have everything he wants.

So, he slips back on his pressed slacks and buttons up his white shirt. He moves quietly, trying to convince himself you are falling asleep, not worrying about what he is doing. Your soft voice ruins this, “Let me know when you get home,” you say, as you do every night he’s here. He lets out a sound of agreement, even though he knows he won’t do it.

The room falls quiet again as Aaron tries to find his suit jacket. He uses his phone flashlight and sees the arm sticking out from beneath your bed. He quickly bends over to grab it, hoping you don’t hear the way his hips creak as he lowers himself. Throwing his jacket over his arm, he finally makes his way to the door. He’s one step through it when you speak again, “Aaron?”

“Yes?” he replies quietly, ignoring how timid your voice sounds. “Maybe we could get lunch or something soon?” Your heart beats against your chest, reverberating in your temples as you ask. It doesn’t make sense. You have no problem letting him know when you’re soaking through your panties because of the lewd photo he sent you, but you’re on the verge of a panic attack as you ask if he’d like to have a meal with you.

“Yeah,” he nods, actually meaning it. He would love to have lunch or something with you. Of course, no one knows if it will ever actually happen. “Cool,” you let out a sigh of relief, “I’ll text you.”

“Yeah,” is all he says as he closes your bedroom door, making his way back to his house. Your body shivers with both chill and loneliness when you hear your front door close.

Aaron’s shoulders were slumped as he made the trek across the street. He threw his jacket over his shoulders, but not putting his arms through the sleeves, to try and protect him from the cold. This year’s winter had come in full swing this week, with the first snowfall happening tonight. He couldn’t make out where the little hand on his watch was, but he knew it was some time after midnight.

He was carrying a lot of guilt and he had no one to share it with. He couldn’t tell you because the repercussions could result in you losing your life, the same way Haley did. He couldn’t tell the team because they didn’t know about you. And that was all of the adult people in his life, pretty much.

His key turned in the door and he let out a sigh. He’d forgotten to turn his heat on when he left for the last case, so it was freezing inside. He stopped in the hallway to change the thermostat, before making his way to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, letting it properly heat up before he began to remove his clothes.

The cold he was feeling was both literal and metaphorical. The chill air burned his skin, opposite from the way your warm touch soothed it.

Aaron felt like he was on autopilot as he cleaned himself, put on his warmest pajamas, and made his way to his bed. It felt bigger than it did before he left. He fell asleep pretty quickly, both from the strenuous case and the orgasm he had not that long ago.

The next morning, you were woken up by the sun casting through your window. You had forgotten to close the curtains last night. You reached for your phone, seeing two messages from Elise. ‘Meet us for brunch?’ and ‘Bring your old man ;)’. The “us” in question was her and her new girlfriend, Annie. They were a cute couple: they seemed like they were made for each other.

You texted back, asking about the time and place, choosing to ignore her second message. When you got up to get ready, you couldn’t help yourself from peeking to see if Aaron’s car was parked across the street. It wasn’t, so you pretended like you didn’t consider asking him to go to brunch.

“Alvez,” Aaron’s voice cut through the chatter in the room. Everyone stopped what they were doing, focusing on the glare on Aaron’s face as he continued, “Stop.” Luke had been teasing Spencer, making the entire team laugh. Luke didn’t answer, knowing it wasn’t worth messing with him anymore. The entire team had picked up on the attitude Aaron had been carrying around lately. There was no more room for teasing in the BAU, as he always seemed angry nowadays.

As the team finished debriefing their last case, Emily lingered inside the meeting room. “Hey, Hotch?” She questioned, usually being the advocate for the team. Aaron didn’t answer but shifted his attention away from the files in front of him and to her. “Everything okay?” she asked.

“Just fine, Prentiss,” he lied, becoming embarrassed under her harsh stare. “Hotch,” she cut through the silence again, “we both know that’s not true.” As much as she was trying to be sympathetic, her prying was just pissing him off. “What is going on in my personal life is none of your concern.” He ended the conversation bluntly, not wanting her to pry anymore.

Like a dog who had just been scolded, Emily made her way out of the room. Hotch lingered for a little longer, hoping the team would disperse before he made his presence known again. He pulled his phone from his pocket, thinking over what Emily was saying to him. Something was wrong, but nobody could fix it. Nobody but you.

Your phone dinged from its spot beside you, and you tried to not let your professor see you reach for it. Sure, you were a grown woman who was allowed to be on your phone, but you didn’t want to seem rude by being distracted from his lesson. You set your pink pen on top of your notebook and lowered your phone into your lap. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you saw the message was from ‘Aaron &lt;3’.

It had been about four days since he left your house and he had not texted since. You refused to text first, not wanting to appear desperate. ‘Hello, I am dropping Jack off at a friend’s at 6:30. Could I come over after? I can order us dinner.’ You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. You quickly typed out a reply, ‘My class ends at 5 and I have to stop by Elise’s to pick something up. Meet at my house at 7?’. He replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

Your leg excitedly bounced throughout the class, willing the clock to move faster. Your notes were messy due to your brain moving faster than your hand could go. When the professor finally wrapped things up and asked for any final questions, you shoved things into your bookbag, knowing you’d regret it the next time you needed something from it. You were the first one out the door.

You tried not to speed as you drove to Elise’s. You were picking up a new dog bed that Anna was getting rid of. Your dog, Jackson, would love it. You left yourself in her house, yelling out to let her know you had arrived.

You had not been completely honest with Elise. You had told her your relationship status with Aaron was complicated, which was half-true. It was very complicated, but also very non-existent. You rushed through your interaction with her and Anna, ignoring the joke she cracked about you having a hot date.

You arrived home close to 6:45 and immediately made your way to your closet to throw on something nicer than the leggings and sweatshirt you wore to class. You used the extra time to clean up around the house.

Aaron knocked on the door at 7:00 on the dot, making you giggle at his punctuality. “Hello,” you smiled at him as you opened the door. He said his greeting and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. You could feel your face warm up at his actions. When he came in, you two settled on the couch, catching up on the things you had missed in each other’s lives.

“Is that new?” Aaron asked, putting at the large dog bed Jackson was resting on. Your heart swooned at him noticing such a small detail. “Yeah! Elise’s girlfriend, Anna, was getting rid of it. She fosters dogs most of the time but she had to stop after the last one got adopted because her dad moved in with her. He’s sick, so she spends a lot of time taking care of him.” Aaron nods in understanding, “You spoil him, huh?” You giggled at his answer, knowing most of your paychecks went to funding Jackson’s expensive lifestyle.

It didn’t take long for you to wind up in his lap, his hands gripping your ass. He was holding you close, pressing his tongue into your mouth. Aaron had a lot of skills, and kissing was probably one of his best. When you pulled away to breathe, he made quick work of moving his lips to your neck, sucking on the tender spot beneath your ear. You let out a gentle moan, moving your hands from around his neck to tug on his hair.

Your moment was interrupted when your stomach grumbled, surprising Aaron. He pulled away, looking up at you with wide eyes and puffy lips. You giggled out an, “I’m sorry.” Aaron soon joined you in your laughter. “You said we’d order food! I haven’t eaten since breakfast!” You smiled, enjoying this sweet moment with him.

He tapped your side, signaling you to get off of his lap. He reached for his phone, “What do you want to eat?” You two scrolled through your options, settling on a local pizza place. Your stomach grumbled again after he placed the order.

It didn’t take long for the pizza to arrive, and you two watched silly YouTube videos while you waited. The evening was filled with giggles and greasy pizza. It was everything you wanted with Aaron.

Once your bellies were both full and the paper plates had been thrown away, you two resumed your position on the couch. You were back in his lap and his lips were back on your neck. His hands were tight against your hips as you rocked against his cock, which was growing hard underneath you. The room was filled with languid sighs and deep moans as you made out.

His hands slid up your sides, moving to pull your shirt off. You separated for just a second, just long enough to lift your shirt over your head. Once it was thrown by the brand new dog bed, Aaron’s large hand was reaching up to cup your bra, quickly aggravated by the material blocking your skin. His hands moved to unclasp it, not letting his lips leave yours. The bra joined the shirt, and Aaron brought one of your nipples into his mouth.

The rough skin of his right hand felt like heaven on your right breast, eliciting moans of his name to fall from your lips. He was leaving deep, purple marks around across your tits, fueled by the sounds you were making. The light tugs of his hair had him painfully hard in his dress pants. 

You pulled away to look him in the eye, “Bedroom?” Aaron shook his head no, lifting your body to lay flat on the couch. “Wanna take you right here,” he rushed through. Stoic, well-spoken Aaron Hotchner was reduced to slang like “wanna” in these moments with you.

From his spot between your legs, he kissed down between your chest, down your stomach, to the waistband of your pants. He looked up at you, asking for permission to take them off. You nodded and your pants quickly joined your ever-growing pile of clothes. “Aaron?” He let out a ‘hmm’, entranced by the wet spot in your panties. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” This broke him out of his spell and he stripped himself down to his boxers.

His hands made their way under your thighs and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your clothed sex. “Take ‘em off?” You nodded at his words, lifting your hips so he could pull them off. As soon as your panties were off, he licked a long strip up your slit.

You let out a moan as he began to bury himself into your pussy. His tongue delved into your hole and his nose nudged your clit. Your hands flew to his hair, pulling him closer. You weren’t sure if he could breathe with how he was pressed into your pussy, your juices spreading all over his chin. Once your grip on his hair relaxed a bit, he pulled his face away. As he slid two of his thick fingers into your hole, he said, “Taste so good, honey.”

As soon as he finished his sentence, he moved down to use his tongue to draw little figure eights along your clit. You let out a loud moan, “Aaron, ‘m gonna,” you cut yourself off with another moan, “gonna cum.” Your thighs held him in his spot as you reached your high. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t move from his spot as you came on his fingers.

His fingers didn’t stop as he rode you through your orgasm. Once your thighs relaxed, he brought himself up to you. You could see the way your juices glistened on his chin as moved himself to kiss you, then you could taste them on his lips.

“Taste yourself?” He asked. You felt your pussy clench at his filthy words and gave him a shy nod. He smiled, before resting his head in the crook of your neck, pressing more kisses into it. Your arms came to wrap around him, holding his bare chest against yours. You two stayed like that for a little bit, basking in each other’s aura.

“Gonna fuck you now,” He informed, lifting his body a little. He looked you in your eyes, making sure you were still okay with it. You nodded, reaching down to align his dick with your entrance. He kept his eyes on you as he pushed in, noticing the way your eyes rolled back when he bottomed out.

Aaron’s cock wasn’t too long, but the thickness of it left a satisfying burn inside you. Aaron wasn’t one for an intense sex life. He was mostly content with missionary, enjoying the closeness and eye contact that came with it. You’d begun to get him out of his shell, testing things like riding him and doggy style throughout your three months hooking up.

His thrusts were deep and slow, drawing out the delightful burn in your pussy. After your previous orgasm, the stretch of his thick cock was almost enough to send you over the edge again. Everything about him was intentional, especially the way he held your legs so he could angle himself to hit the spot inside you that made your toes curl.

“Faster,” you moaned out, needing more. “You take what I give you,” he demanded, letting his rare dominant side come out. He knew you liked that by the way you clenched around his cock, squeezing him just right. It only took a few more strokes for him to start increasing his speed, never wanting to displease you.

He was chasing his own high, bottoming out with every deep thrust. You could feel the way you were leaving a ring of your arousal at the base of his dick. “Aaron,” you sighed out, trying to let him know you were about to cum again. While you couldn’t get the words out, he could tell by the way your muscles were beginning to tense up and you were letting out higher-pitched moans.

The way you clenched his dick had his orgasm following close behind your own, allowing him to ride you through your high. He let out a deep sigh as he came down, burying himself back in the crook of your neck. He placed gentle kisses along your neck as your hand drew loving circles along his shoulder.

You willed him to keep his head buried in your neck so he wouldn’t see the way your eyes began to fill with tears. It’s not that you were sad, or even disappointed. There was a deep longing feeling in your chest. In your heart, you knew this was where you wanted to be, but, in your brain, you knew it wouldn’t last.

Aaron let himself lay there with you for a while. He didn’t move as his dick softened inside of you and as your loving caress left goosebumps in their wake. Despite the chill in the room, he was comfortable.

A few moments pass before he pushes himself off of you, making his way to the bathroom to clean up. When he reappears in the living, he asks “Do you want to take a shower?” You eagerly accept his offer, getting up to guide him to your master bathroom. He smiles behind you as you turn on the water.

You’re very surprised at his actions but scared that if you mention how different he’s acting, he’ll stop. He usually doesn’t stay to clean up with you, besides retreating to the bathroom. You both step into the shower, muscles relaxed by the hot water. Aaron flinches away from it. “Too hot?” You ask, forgetting that not everyone takes scalding hot showers.

“I’ll get used to it,” he compromises. It’s a tight fit, but you both make do. He’s the first one to reach for the wash rag. Soaping it up with your lavender-scented body wash and bringing it to your shoulders. He allows himself to enjoy washing you, taking time to massage and caress your skin. He moves gently and lovingly, as if he would break you if he pushed too hard.

Despite the amount of times you had sex, this shower was the most intimate thing you and Aaron had ever done. It would’ve been easy to convince yourself that you two were a couple, one that is deeply in love and would never hurt each other. However, you could never do that because of the gnawing knowledge of his future departure. You weren’t a couple and he would be retreating to his home any minute now.

Aaron let you stay under the warm water as he washed himself, both of you opting to not worry about washing your hair tonight. You stepped out first, grabbing a towel off of the rack attached to the shower. You wrapped it around yourself, moving to get Aaron one from your towel closet. He enjoyed the warmth of the shower while you were gone. Once you appeared in the steamy bathroom, he turned off the water and wrapped himself in the towel you handed him.

It was quiet for a moment, both of you just enjoying the presence of each other. Aaron was rubbing the towel, trying to dry his hair when he spoke up, “I don’t believe I have any clothes here. Do you have any you think could fit me?” You were gobsmacked at his words. Luckily, you weren’t facing him, so he didn’t see the way your mouth dropped in surprise. You quickly turned around to face him, “Are you staying the night?”

“Is that okay?” He sounded awkward, not really knowing what to do. Sure, he’d left every other time, but he thought it would be okay since you spend so much time together anyway. He was trying to be better than he was before, trying to overcome the fears that had been keeping him from truly being with you. “Of course it is!” Your voice was excitable again, almost as lively as it was the day he met you. “I think I have some sweatpants, I can look.”

Your heart was pounding as you left the bathroom to dig through your dresser, seeing if there was anything you wouldn’t mind Aaron keeping. He followed behind you, settling on the edge of the bed. He was distracted as you looked, admiring you in just a fluffy towel. He wished he saw this side of you more often.

Once you found an old, gray pair at the bottom of your third drawer, you tossed them at him. You got dressed and he slipped them on, choosing to forgo underwear rather than put on the precum-stained ones from earlier. “What do we do now?” You asked sweetly, not really knowing how to go about this sleepover, but excited to have it nonetheless.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He suggested, subtly pointing at the TV hung on your wall. “Sure! What kind of movies do you like?” You asked him as you moved to sit criss-cross on your bed. He chuckled at your cute demeanor, “Me and Jack tend to watch action or comedy, but I love a good romcom now and then.” This sent you into a fit of giggles, picturing Aaron curled up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, and ‘When Harry Met Sally’ being the only thing illuminating his face in the dark room.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about that,” He said with a fond smile on his face. He laid down, leaving space for you to curl yourself against his side, tucked right into his armpit. You felt like you belonged there. “I just didn’t realize you were such a softie,” You said with a few more giggles. He shifted his head down to look at you the best he could, “I can be.”

You two settled on ‘Do Revenge’, playing into Aaron’s apparent love of chick-flicks. You two got comfortable under the covers. About halfway through, Aaron heard your gentle snores filling the room. He reached across you to grab the remote and turn off the TV. He reached back over you to put the remote on your nightstand, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he settled himself down, falling quickly into a deep slumber.

The next morning, you woke up to an unfamiliarly cold room. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, looking at the messed up bed. Your gaze followed the blanket that had been thrown around to an empty bed.

Your eyebrows crinkled in confusion, remembering that Aaron had spent the night. A part of you hoped when you got up, he’d be making breakfast for you like the husbands always did in the cheesy romcoms you two talked about last night. The other part of you knew he had left.

To confirm your suspicions, you made your way to the living room, trying to ignore the steadily increasing beat of your heart. You made your way to Jackson, who was asleep in his brand-new bed. You sat next to him, tears filling your eyes. His clothes were gone. Even the stupid sweatpants you let him borrow. Jackson snuggled closer to you, almost providing the warmth Aaron took with him when he left.

You let yourself lay there for a while, dwelling on the hurt in your heart. It wasn’t as if this was unexpected, but he could’ve had the decency to not lie to you. You explicitly asked him if he was staying the night and he said he was. How could he just leave? As if your time last night didn’t mean anything? As if any of the nights you two spent together didn’t mean anything?

You were forced to get up when you heard your phone alarm going off in your bedroom, indicating it was time for you to get ready for work. You had a busy day ahead of you that would consist of work and catching up on homework. You didn’t have time to worry about a man who wasn’t worrying about you.

You felt numb throughout your whole shift. You ignored Elise’s texts asking you to go out tomorrow, considering you hadn’t had a Friday night out in a while. You ignored pretty much everything, burying yourself in your tasks. You were on autopilot as you drove home. You quickly took care of Jackson, taking him on a brief walk and feeding him. You went out your back door and followed it until you knew you couldn’t see Aaron’s house. You didn’t want to think about him, and you definitely didn’t want him to see how sad you were.

You did homework for the rest of the night, ignoring the world around you. You didn’t turn on the TV or look at your phone once. You took another scorching shower, basking in the burn it left on your skin.

You went on like this for another day. It wasn’t until you returned home from work late on Friday night that you had to come face-to-face with your feelings.

It was actually your choice. No one forced you to slam your car door as soon as you saw Aaron get out of his in his own driveway. No one forced you to stomp your way across the street. No one forced you to yell his name.

No, you were solely guided by your own anger, your own sadness, to approach him. You didn’t know who was around, and you didn’t really care as you started yelling at him. “Fuck you,” You spit out first, “You said you were staying. I wanted you to stay. But you fucking left. I was going to make you breakfast, you know that? The best fucking baker around was going to make you breakfast. But you left. Without saying goodbye.”

You didn’t normally cuss, or yell, really. The anger you felt became too much and you were talking before you could really think about what you were saying. Your eyes started to fill with tears. “Y/N,” he interrupts. He wasn’t yelling at you, more raising his voice so you’d let him talk. “I didn’t want to leave you.” He confesses, a guilty look spread across his face.

You’re instantly quieter and the tears start falling as you speak. “You didn’t?” You quietly question. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to scream and cry and cuss at him so he could feel just a little bit of the hurt you felt when you woke up yesterday morning. But that wasn’t in your nature. You were good and kind and sweet, not mean and nasty.

“No, honey, of course not,” He speaks softly, taking a few more steps towards you. You let him rest a gentle hand on your shoulder as he continues, “I got a call from Jack’s friend’s mother. They had snuck out and gone skateboarding. Jack fell on his arm and they were on their way to the emergency room. I had to meet him there.”

Guilt started to fill your chest as you listened to his explanation. “Aaron, I’m so sorry,” You breathed out as he pulled you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he spoke, “There’s no need to be. I should’ve called you but I got distracted with work.” You nodded against his chest. He held you as you calmed down, letting your tears subside. “I’ve got to run, we’re leaving for a case and I forgot my go-bag,” You nod at his words, “Be safe, please.”

“Of course,” He said as he started taking a few steps backward. He turned around and made his way to his door. His hand was reaching out for the knob when you called his name. “What are we?” You asked the dreaded question that had been weighing on your chest. It seemed childish, but there was no other way to phrase it. You hoped he wanted to be in a relationship. You hoped he wanted you the same way you wanted him.

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” He said as he made his way back to you. “I owe you a conversation, that’s for sure.” You nod at his words, “When can we have it?” You asked, knowing he needed to leave for work. “I’ll text you as soon as we wrap up the case.” You nod again as he makes his way back to his front door.

He’s the one who turns around this time, calling out your name. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “For everything that happened before. I’m going to make it right as soon as I get home.” You give him a soft smile and a gentle nod before turning around to make your way home. 

It takes a full week for the team to wrap up the case. Reid and JJ ask if they can spend the night in Phoenix, not wanting to be on the jet at three in the morning. However, Aaron vetoes this immediately, knowing he needs to be home as quickly as possible to talk to you.

He texts you while Luke drives the SUV, letting you know he will be boarding shortly and to expect him to be over sometime in the morning tomorrow. You’re fast asleep and do not reply, but Aaron knows you’ll see it in the morning. 

And you do. You check your phone first thing in the morning. Usually, your Saturdays are spent catching up on missed homework throughout the week, but today you immediately made your way to the kitchen. When you are stressed, this is where you usually find yourself. You threw on the “kiss the cook” apron Elise had given you a few Christmases ago, pulling up the recipe for raspberry cheese danishes you had seen online the other day.

You had just put them in the oven when you heard the knocks on your door. Aaron had gotten just a few hours of sleep before he made his way to your house. His heart was beating in his chest as he waited for you to open the door.

All of his nerves quickly dissipated as he saw you in your apron. He smiled at it, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in for a kiss before either of you could even say hello. You giggled when he let you go, opening the door wider so he could come in. You were glad he greeted you the way he did. It took away some of the awkwardness that was looming over you due to the conversation topic.

“It smells phenomenal in here,” he complimented as he made his way to the dining room table. He sat down at the of the table and you settled into the seat on his left. “I’m sorry I had to run the other day, duty calls.” You nodded in understanding at his words. “Did you think about my question?” You asked timidly, wanting to get the conversation started so it could be over sooner.

“I did,” he said with a thoughtful nod, “I’m not quite sure how I would define us if I’m being honest.” His answer left you speechless. Not in a bad way, and certainly not in a good way, but in a way that signaled that you didn’t know how to reply. “I mean, I don’t know how I would define us back then.” He continues on.

For the first time since he kissed you when you opened the door, he made eye contact with you. “I would like to define us as a couple now if that is alright with you.” He didn’t miss the smile that quickly spread across your face and the way you started to twiddle your fingers. “Aaron Hotchner,” You let out an overdramatic gasp, “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

Aaron laughed at your theatrics, “Yes, I am.” You immediately threw yourself in his lap, pressing a kiss to his blushed cheek. “I would love to!” He could feel you smile against his face as you threw your arms around his neck. He let you love on him for a little bit before you made your way back to your seat. “I think there are a few things I have to tell you first, though,” Aaron informed again and you noticed the way his body tensed up. You didn’t say anything, creating a safe space for him to get anything he needed off of his chest.

“Ever since the day I barged in after you left me that voice message, this is what I wanted. I wanted to kiss you when you greeted me at the door. I wanted to watch cheesy films with you. I still really want all of that,” He let out a deep breath, “but I come with a lot, Y/N. Even just being with me puts you in danger. My last relationship ended due to my job, and I lost her. My wife, she, uh,” His eyes began to well up with tears.

You reached your hand out to hold his, understanding what he was trying to tell you. His wife, Jack’s mom, had died because of something related to his job. You weren’t going to force him to continue if it was this painful for him to talk about. “I understand,” You spoke gently, not wanting to upset him more, “And I’m okay with that risk.”

Aaron nodded at your words, not really knowing if you meant them. You did. Even if you wouldn’t admit it quite yet, you were in love with Aaron. You understood his job was scary and he dealt with a lot of evil in his line of work, but not even that could keep you from wanting a relationship with him.

“And, there will be times when I’m not around. My job, it is very demanding and very important to me, and to the world, I think. When they need me, I have to go.” You knew this part, he was away a lot. That’s why you had spent so much time texting before he was aware of the crush you had on him. However, before you could respond, the oven dinged, telling you it was time to take out the danishes.

Without thinking about it, you jumped up from the table, exclaiming, “My danishes are done!” Aaron laughed at this, following you with his eyes as you made your way to the oven, pulling out the desserts and sitting them on the counter to cool. You were looking over them are you spoke, “I know that, Aaron. I’m a busy bee, too. I think I’ll be okay when you’re away.”

“These look this delicious,” he complimented, reaching for one. You quickly swatted his hand away, “They need to cool!” He laughed and pressed a kiss to your neck. “What are they?” He asked, not moving his face from the crook of your neck. “Raspberry cheese danishes! It’s a new recipe.” You could feel yourself getting giddy at the thought of Aaron Hotchner, your boyfriend, and personal taste-tester.

“Well, they look and smell amazing. You’ll have to make some for the BAU holiday party.” He said, very casually. You froze in your spot as he unwrapped from your figure. “You want me to go?” You were surprised at his invitation. From getting to know him, you’d realized that the people in the BAU were some of the most important people in his whole life. “Of course,” he smiled, “Everyone brings their significant others.”

♡ TAGS: @himboelover @zaddyhotch @lcvdoll @h0t-as-h3ll @lamentis-10 @cherubswhispers

disclaimer: i will only tag accounts that have an age on their profile that indicates they are not a minor

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion prefers monogamy.

Again, simply my cup of thought tea steeped from my game experience. Its not everyone's drink. No shame, no blame, it's your game. Warning for triggers and spoilers.

*added note due to misunderstandings.

Please notice I said "prefers monogamy" not "is monogamous". He may be up for added partners later on down the line. But definitely not any time before the epilogue in my world.

So, why do I think he prefers monogamy?

Take..

"Iv never had anyone. Not really. Nothing that compares to you."

And mix that with...

"I had nothing for so very long. NOTHING! Not even my own body!"

And add..

"You're you. Nobody is like that."

Plus countless other comments and actions and you get a bowl full of elf who just wants something for himself only for a change.

Centuries of being forced to give up or share everything. His possessions, his person, his own thoughts. Nothing to claim as own that no one else could take or touch at any moment. I'm sure if anything was given to him, he had to fight to keep it.

I think, he would be a bit possessive of anything he could claim as his own.

You are a gift to him. Something rare and special beyond words. I highly doubt he would be willing to share anything you are sharing with him outside of friendship. I could even see him getting fussy about strangers touching you. Moving you away or putting himself physically between you and whomever just touched you without asking.

Hells, even ascended Astarion isn't 100% game to share.

"As much as I wish to sequester you in a deep chamber of my palace and keep you all to myself...there is much to be done."

But, what about Halsin? He says he's fine with it.

Is he? Or is he people pleasing?

If he had said something along the lines of,

"Oh? He wants to share does he? Of course he does. I'm not up for such activities just yet, but you are free to have as much Halsin as you wish. "

I would have gone on that bear hunt, but he doesn't.

He askes you if you are wanting to sleep with Halsin because he has not been able to meet your sexual needs. And I interpreted that as he's vulnerable and worried he's being replaced for not putting out.

Imagine you had asked your lover to not to look to you for sex for reasons you are working out. They agree and you are just relieved as hell about it.

"You were patient. You cared."

Then they come along later down the line and say they are thinking about having sex with a friend. Where would your mind go?

I would bet hard gold he weighed the options in his head. "If I don't let them do this, they might leave me for good. But if I allow it, they wont have an immediate reason to leave. Halsin is the safest option given his experience."

And what's the best way to feel less awful about a situation we cant control? Create a counter situation where we gaslight ourselves into thinking its fine.

Wheeee!

I'm not saying Halsin's offer was bad, it was perfectly fine, it was just poorly placed in the grand scheme of things. If you and Astarion were having fun again before he suggested being an extra, then it would have been easier to believe he was really fine with it.

If they wanted Astarion to be a poly partner they needed to write it better. Shadowheart makes more sense as pro poly than he does.

So for me, Astarion is a one on one elf.

I am not against polyamory. I am not trying to take representation away. I am not shaming anybody for their choices. There is just not enough specific content to support it fully FOR ME. I was actually excited at the idea of having two partners in my fantasy world. Halsin was very clear and very specific about being on board. Astarion was not. And the choice did not feel right. Add a line somewhere for Astarion where he says "Im perfectly fine with sharing, darling. As long as it is discussed and we are in agreement of course." I will happily be on board with it.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Bonus Part — Fin x Reader.

Summary: A reimagining of how things would have gone if Reader had decided she wanted Fin — despite him being her friend’s father.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Heavy on the smut. 18+, minors dni. Some jealous and possessiveness. Mentions of forbidden relationships/affairs. If the choices Reader makes in this are something you’re against, I urge you not to read! 🫶🏻

Rita’s is like no other place you’ve been — or seen — before.

Is this what you’ve missed out on, trapped within the frozen maw of Windhaven? There is no place like this there, of such vibrancy and euphoria. The music, the coloured faelights, the energy — it all makes you feel…on top of the world.

Like there’s life outside the misery you’ve known.

Mor knocks a shot back, grimacing as she slams the empty glass onto the bar. A sudden burst of giggles leaves her as she says, “My father would have my head if he could see me right now. Literally.”

You don’t doubt that for a second, because Mor looks resplendent, not just in her natural beauty, but her joy. She has danced and drank and kissed and danced some more. And seeing her like this…it makes you glad that she convinced you to come out with her tonight.

“My father would have my head, too,” you tell her over the music. “I’m surprised he hasn’t already.”

At that, she rolls her eyes, and she reaches for two more shots. “Here’s to saying fuck the males,” she knocks her glass against yours. “May they all perish.”

You’ll happily drink to that. With the alcohol that has you in its grip, you’re buzzed on thoughts of storming back to Windhaven and confronting all your demons. Confronting anyone and everyone who has ever hurt you and made you feel less than you are. Your father. Lord Devlon. Azriel—

You banish that thought as the liquid slides down your throat with a satisfying burn. You are in Velaris, not Windhaven. A new place with new people, where anything feels possible. The thought is heady and dizzying.

Someone calls Mor’s name, and she glances over her shoulder, her beautiful eyes lighting up again. You truly don’t know how often she’s able to escape the Hewn City and get away to Velaris, but judging by the amount of friends she’s introduced you to tonight, she’s certainly made her mark here.

“Let’s go dance with them!” Mor yells over the music, grabbing your hand.

You think that dancing might be the answer to everything you’ve never known, and so you gladly follow; gladly throw yourself into the thrall of the busy floor.

But that’s when you see him.

Something…some deep power…compels you to look up. Coaxes your eyes to that area a level above, where the city’s VIP guests spend copious amounts of money on copious amounts of alcohol and drink it from their cushy velvet booths. They’re reserved for associates of the High Lord, a not-so-formal place to meet to discuss not-so-casual things.

But none of that matters. There could be an entire circus up there right now, and still all you would notice is — him.

He notices you, too.

The High Lord’s eyes zero in on you from up above. You watch, rooted to the spot, as he takes in the sight of you, from your braided back hair, to your painted face, your dress and the legs exposed by them. He looks like…like he’s finally setting his sights upon an image that was merely fantasy up until now.

He braces his arms on the balustrade. And he just stares.

You want to know what he’s doing here. Whether he’s at Rita’s for business or…or for pleasure. You’ve heard that there are rooms upstairs for people willing to pay the price. Perhaps there’s a lover up there with him somewhere, waiting to explore every last inch of that glorious, sculpted body—

The bleating jealousy that makes your heart twist is…unexpected. And not ideal; not one bit.

He is Rhysand’s father. Things may have been fucked up royally with Azriel, and you may have been burned by the experience — but Fin is Rhysand’s father.

Your friend’s father.

Your friend’s father who has just so happened to help keep you feeling alive these past weeks. With his layers-deep allure, the sweet, sweet words that roll off his tongue. His hospitality, his generosity. His kindness. All of it, you’d attributed to him being a natural charmer, a High Lord who knows precisely what to say, what to do.

It strikes you in that moment — just how much it’s all sunk its way into your bones and made you feel…dangerous.

He watches you like a cat with a mouse. Watches as somebody grabs your hand and yanks you into the tightly knit dancing bodies. The music pulses through you from head to toe, a frenzied tune of strings and keys that somehow come together to create the feeling of being borne aloft. Being on top of the world.

As you become lost to the sensation of dance, you’re glad to forget all your thoughts about Fin. You don’t want to wonder what he’s doing here. You don’t want to imagine what those strong, rough hands might get up to, where they might venture.

You become sandwiched between two males who dance with you in a way that makes you forget your wings were ever stolen. They touch you and touch each other, and you welcome it all, happy to be someone, somewhere, else. At least for a while.

But there’s suddenly a foreign touch to your shoulder. That of a cold, meaty hand that stills your movements and draws your attention. The two males happily slink away and begin grinding on each other, and you spin on the spot to find a tall, stocky male who looks like he punches people in the face for the hell of it.

“Y/N?” He checks, and you nod. “The High Lord wishes to speak with you. Upstairs.”

You glance over your shoulder, eyes searching for Mor and finding her just as she’s following a male and female to a cloaked-off area at the back. That’ll be her occupied for the remainder of the night. You’re officially going solo.

But not for long. Not as the bouncer juts his chin in the direction of the staircase and begins to lead you there. Perhaps it makes you a fool, but you follow without a word.

He pulls back a rope and gestures for you to go on up, and then he’s refastening it behind you and turning back to train a keen eye on the dance floor. It’s purely the alcohol that hits you with enough of an ego to climb those stairs like you belong amongst the chandeliers and velvet booths.

But you look good — amazing, even. You know you do. And looking like this, things like scars and other insecurities seem so trivial. You’ve taken back the right to feel as beautiful as you are. You wear your Illyrian features proudly, and you’re pretty and lithe and graceful—

And your heel catches on the top step of the staircase, almost sending you sprawling to the floor — if not for the warm hand that catches your elbow.

“Easy.” Fin rasps into your ear, setting you steady on your feet.

Your numbed, inebriated senses are not immune to the effect of his voice, it would seem. The deep baritone, rough as jagged rock, pushes its way into your skin, your veins, and spreads far faster than any alcohol could.

“Pardon me, my Lord,” you answer, and you’re unable to shove down the hysterical giggle that claws up your throat. “Fuck, you’re the High Lord.”

He cocks a dark eyebrow. “And you are drunk.”

“The whiskey they serve here is immense.”

“I’ll be sure to extend your compliments to Rita herself.”

Is that, you wonder, who he’s up here meeting? Perhaps the elusive Rita is a close associate of his. Perhaps they do deals in both business and pleasure.

And taking in your fill of the High Lord right now, in a dark button-up shirt and fitted breeches of a slate grey, you would not blame Rita one little bit.

Gods, he’s exquisite. Rhysand may resemble Roza more than he does Fin, but…with two parents of such stunning beauty, it’s no wonder your friend is as handsome as he is.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you make no secret of the way your eyes linger on him. Tonight is dangerous, and you’re enjoying it.

“Nor I, you,” he narrows his gaze down at you. “Imagine my surprise, considering that when I left the palace earlier this evening, you were curled up in the library with a book. And yet, here you are. Wearing…” mahogany eyes take in the short cut of your dress, “…that.”

“Mor surprised me with a visit.”

“My niece ought to be more careful not to press her father’s buttons too much,” a muscle in his chiselled jaw ticks. “And I think you ought to be more careful not to push mine.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Bold. So foolishly bold of you. You’ll regret it once sober, you’re sure. “Was there a particular reason you summoned me up here, my Lord? I was rather enjoying dancing.”

“I noticed. And I’m taking you home.”

“What—”

Before you can even finish the word, Fin’s gripping your elbow again, and darkness sweeps you away.

Being winnowed while drunk is not a fun experience.

You feel the cosmic, air-light step from one place to another. Your stomach lurches, your head spinning. You can barely get a hold of yourself as you cling to Fin and prepare your feet to touch solid ground.

And then the darkness is gone, and you’re back in the toasty, warm glow of the palace’s library. Your knees buckle, trying to drag you to the floor, but Fin keeps you upright.

“What the…” you gawp up at him. “Why did you bring me home?”

He ensures you’re able to stand on your feet before pushing away from you. Doesn’t even look at you as he commands, “Get to bed.”

“I was enjoying myself.”

“Just as those males were enjoying you, too. You’re drunk and you need to sleep it off. Get to bed.”

He strides towards the door, his knuckles white from how hard he grips the hilt of the sword sheathed at his side. But sword or no, you refuse to give up so easily.

“No,” you say simply. “I will not.”

Fin stops. Goes still. And then he turns back to you.

His temper is clear on his face, but he doesn’t storm back over like you’re half expecting him to. Instead, his eyes shutter, and he seems to take a deep, soothing breath. When he’s looking at you once more, he flicks his wrist in your direction.

And immediately, gone is the haze of the alcohol.

Immediately, you’re completely lucid, completely steady on your feet. Not a lick of inebriation remains, as if you had, indeed, slept it off.

“Did you just sober me up?” you’re outraged by the mere idea.

“Yes.” Fin admits shamelessly. “Now you won’t fall victim to a hangover in the morning — a favour from me, to you, and I ask you in return to get to bed. And don’t even think about trying to venture back out. I’ll know.”

Your blood boils. And the anger isn’t simply because of your ruined fun, but because…because it stings, the way Fin is treating you with such contempt. Scolding you like you’re little more than a petulant child. He’s been nothing but wonderful since you came to Velaris, and yet now, he speaks to you like…like most of the males back in Windhaven do.

It makes you see red.

“What right have you to dictate how I spend my evening?” you snap. “I was under the impression that my free time is my own, and if I wish to go and get drunk and dance like a fool, that is up to me.”

Cold, beautiful anger hardens Fin’s face. He stalks closer, squeezing the hilt of that sword so, so tightly. “What right have I? This is my home. My city. My court. I am your High Lord, and you choose to behave in such a way when I’ve opened my home to you and offered you refuge? When I’ve given you a place to run to and left my resources at your disposal?”

You rock back on the heels of your feet, staring at him. Every word lands a hit — as good as if he’d nocked them in a bow and fired them right at your heart. It stings. Gods, it stings. You want the careless oblivion of the alcohol back.

Because you grapple daily with the pain, the anxiety, of feeling unwanted. And you…you had begun to think that Fin actually cared for you. Actually enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his.

You’d begun to care about his thoughts and feelings where you were concerned. And begun to believe that it wasn’t just the hospitality and courtesy that he would dole out to any runt on the street.

His eyes seem to track the way your expression changes, your shoulders slump. You swallow. The anger is replaced, simply, by hurt.

“If I am a burden, my Lord, I apologise,” you rasp. “I don’t intend to be one. I appreciate your generosity, and I…I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused.”

You hope you can keep your tears at bay long enough to escape to your room. You’re pelted with shame, embarrassment, hurt. You step forward and hurry past the High Lord, desperate to book it out of there, to get to bed.

But his hand encloses around your wrist, tugging you to a stop. And he says, quietly, “wait.”

That hand on your wrist holds the weight of a thousand unspoken words.

You pin your gaze to the ground, unable to look at Fin. You hear him swallow.

“That isn’t—” his voice is gravelly. “I didn’t mean that.”

You don’t think you can speak. You remain a statue beneath his touch.

But so gently — such a contrast to the whirlwind of his actions before — he’s walking you backwards. Slow and careful. You feel your back hit the wall, and he lets go of your wrist and seems to curl his fists at his sides. There’s a desperation to the action that only then coaxes you to look up at him.

His expression is…pleading. For what, you’re not sure.

“You are the furthest thing from a burden,” he says, quietly, on an exhale. “Your presence here is very much welcomed, I assure you.”

You don’t dare breathe a word. Every last bit of your very sober courage is being thrown into maintaining eye contact. There’s none to spare for speaking.

But your lack of response seems to trouble Fin. His eyes rake over your face, searching for something. He swallows again.

And then his eyes shutter, and he whispers, “Mother above, what are you doing to me?”

You don’t know how to answer him — whether he’s even talking to you at all. He takes in a very slow, very deep breath, as though it’s the only thing that’s stopping him from…doing something. What, you’re not sure.

But you can feel it, sense it — the ferocity with which he’s swallowing down words and holding himself back. Like he wants so badly to say something, but can’t.

His eyes open, clearer than they were seconds before, and he says in a far gentler tone, “Get to bed, Y/N,” he inclines his head. “Sleep well.”

With tense, squared shoulders, he turns — and it’s you, this time, that stops him. You halt him with a hand on his arm, and you could swear you feel the muscles flex under his touch.

“Wait,” you say, not ready to let him go, not prepared to leave things between you like this. “Stay and talk with me for a while.”

His jaw clenches like he’s gritting his teeth. “That isn’t a good idea.”

“Why? We talk all the time, you and I. And there are clearly things you’re holding back from saying—”

Your words are cut short as he suddenly meets your gaze with the intensity of a blazing fire. You think it might burn you. You hope it will.

“It’s a bad idea,” he grounds out, gutturally, “not because of what I want to say. But because of what I want to do.”

“What—”

“You are my son’s close friend. You are Roza’s guest,” he tugs his arm out from under your hand. “You are far younger than I am. I am trying my hardest — I have been trying my hardest — to be a good male. And right now, a good male would take his leave and go to bed, so I bid you goodnight, Y/N.”

“Fin—”

“I hope you sleep well.”

“Fin,” you grab for him again. “What if I don’t want you to be a good male?”

Beneath your touch, he stops. Goes preternaturally still.

Words punch out of you with terrifying gall — and truth. “What if I want you to do those things—”

Quick as a flash, he’s pivoting, and he has the upper hand. Has you pressed so tightly up against the wall, his body boxing you in.

And gods, the feel of it might set you on fire. A brush of your hands, a kiss on the backs of your fingers — they’re nothing compared to the weight and press of his muscles against your body. You want your clothes to melt away, and his, too. You want your hands on his bare, hot skin.

“I don’t think you realise what you’re saying,” he growls.

“I do,” you breathe. “I am completely sober. Completely clear of mind. And I am telling you, Fin, I want you—”

A strangled noise is the only warning you get before the High Lord’s mouth is on yours.

The kiss is pure power. It passes from him, into you, roils through your veins and makes you feel like somebody remarkable. It’s the cloak of darkness and the kiss of sin. Of somebody capable of very, very bad things.

And it’s immediately addicting. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to get enough.

You claw at his shirt, tugging him closer, closer, and his broad hands cup your face as his mouth devours yours.

This kiss…it’s been building. The need for it has been working its way beneath your skin for a while. All the heated glances, the late-night conversations. All the thoughts, in the dead of night, of what Fin might be doing in his own bed. Wondering whether he was thinking of you.

It’s so, so forbidden. So wrong. But it feels so godsdamn right.

And the way Fin’s tongue slides between your lips and strokes into your mouth — it tells you that he feels it, too.

Your hands glide from his waist, round to his back, and you yank him harder against you. So desperate are you to feel him. Feel what you think you do to him.

He makes another low noise. And then he’s tearing his mouth from yours. But he lingers close, your foreheads touching.

“Better than I’ve been imagining,” he pants, his hands still clutching your face. “Much better.”

“You’ve imagined kissing me?” You know he has.

“I have imagined,” his thumbs sweep your cheeks, “doing all sorts of things with you, Y/N. Things that would make even the most salacious of a person blush.”

Such a relief — to know that it’s not all just some wild fantasy you’ve cooked up in your mind. That you’re not just some wayward, longing young female who craves the affections of an older male to patch her deep wounds.

No, it’s not that. It’s desire. It’s need. And it burns inside your veins until you think you might erupt into flames.

“I’ve imagined them, too,” you say, without a lick of shame.

Once again, his eyes are shuttering. Once again, he takes that slow, steadying breath. And as you watch him do so, you can’t bear the thought of him still grappling with right and wrong. You can’t bear the thought of him squaring his shoulders and walking out of here, leaving your lips bruised, your body aching, your heart hurting. You can’t bear it—

“I want you to do those things,” you lift your chin, gaze unflinching. “I want you to touch me.”

Fin’s eyes reopen.

He stares at you.

His throat bobs.

You have never seen somebody look so wild, so ravenous. There is heat everywhere, in his stare and in his taut body. His eyes flick down to your lips.

That mere glance at them is the deciding factor, it would seem.

He growls, the sound not at all one you’ve ever heard from a person, and he yanks you up into his arms and kisses you again.

So naturally, your arms twine around his neck, your legs locking around his waist. You can feel the strength of him against you, in the way he holds you. You can taste his crackling power.

He doesn’t falter in the kiss nor his steps as he carries you away from the wall, and you’re suddenly being placed down on the library’s desk, sending books and parchment and pens and ink pots flying. They all clatter loudly to the floor, and neither of you care.

But Fin does pull away to look at you, and there’s wicked, boyish charm in his eyes as the corners of his mouth twitch up. He merely says, “Oops.”

You surge up and kiss him again.

He sighs into it, like your mouth is the answer to all his questions. And when heated hands land on your thighs, you part them, allow him to slot his body in between. The mere feel of it has you pushing up against him, finding him hard—

But again, he pulls away. He scans your face and rasps, “Tell me you’re sure.”

You do not balk from his intensity. From the fact that this is the fucking High Lord of your court, who was changing this world and building a reputation long before you were a mere thought in your parents’ minds. You do not balk from the fact that there are a million different reasons that this is wrong.

You think only about the fact that it feels right.

And that translates into your voice as you say, firmly, “I’m sure.”

You think you see the words course through his body. They change something — forever.

“This isn’t about Roza,” he breathes — breathes heavily, like it’s taking everything to tamp down on the desire to devour you then and there. To say what needs to be said.

You shake your head, “No.”

“Nor is it about Rhysand.”

“No.”

“It’s about me and you.” He destroys what little gap exists between your bodies, his hardness pushing through his breeches, right up against your centre. His hands brace on the desk, either side of you. “And gods, I want you, Y/N. I want you so much, I can scarcely bear it.”

“Have me,” is all you manage — before he strikes.

You think, hope, that his mouth might find yours again — but he’s barely brushing it before his lips settle on your jaw. His hands travel up your legs, fingers biting into the flesh. They find your hips, thumbs delivering explorative sweeps. They tug your dress up as they climb, exposing more of you to the warmth of the room. Exposing more skin that you know he wants to lay claim to.

And when the hem of your dress is ruched around your waist, you smile — at your little wildcard exposed. That he finds no underwear hiding what sits between your legs.

Your choice to forgo a pair seems almost foretelling, now — like some part of you knew the night would end like this, and you wanted to be ready.

Fin’s eyes dip to your slick, exposed cunt. The hunger in them is almost intimidating. You open your legs just a little wider—

But his rough hand is gripping your chin, almost hard enough to hurt. And he snarls deeply, “It drove me to madness — seeing those two males dancing with you. Touching you.”

Pleasure bolts down your spine, and from the way his nostrils flare, you know the scent of your arousal is consuming him.

“Did it?” you stare back at him, welcoming the discomfort of his brutal grip.

“I wanted them dead. I wanted to draw my sword and gut them for even looking your way. For touching what I want to be mine.”

That pleasure again — skittering over your skin. His words do something to you. You bite down on a moan.

“It is yours,” you tilt your chin up to him, smiling when he immediately glances to your lips. “Take it.”

“I warn you,” he lowers his face to yours, “I don’t like to share.”

“And I warn you, High Lord,” you watch as your words land, drawing a deep, raw scent from him. “Neither do I.”

With a growl, he snaps. The kiss he gives you is not slow or sweet. His hand continues to grip your face, and his mouth attacks yours, his tongue sliding between your lips. You can’t help your moan, this time, as his taste overpowers you — a taste that you can only describe as pure thunder.

But it ends too soon, as he begins to leave a trail of heated kisses and bites and sucks along your jaw, down your neck, your collarbones. Your head falls back, and the touches are like little zips of lightning — lightning cleaving through the night sky.

“Pretty dress,” he hums against your skin — and that’s all the warning you get before that dress is ripped apart. Torn to ribbons.

No part of you is left to Fin’s imagination.

He tears his mouth from you and steps back to drink you in.

Instinct roars at you to curl in on yourself and hide. To remember that you are scarred, and flawed, and not to the liking of many — including yourself, a lot of the time.

But something about Fin’s weighty, scorching stare stops you from moving a muscle.

You lift your chin and hide nothing as he takes his fill. His eyes travel a journey from the top of your head and down — down your face, your neck, your breasts. Down your stomach, your waist, your hips. Down to that fine dusting of hair on your pelvis that tracks a thin path to—

Fin drops to his knees with a low noise. His hands wrap around your legs and prise them further apart.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he levels his face with the very centre of you, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight.

The sight of the High Lord on his knees before you — on his knees for you.

As though he senses the direction of your thoughts, his eyes flick up, and he smiles.

And then he dives in.

His tongue wastes no time in sinking between your folds, licking a broad stripe right up the centre of you. At the first stroke, your head falls back, your arms wobbling where they’re braced on the desk.

“Look at me,” Fin growls. “Only me.”

His voice of pure High Lord power drags your eyes back to him. And thank the fucking Mother it does.

You see everything in the way he feasts on you. His tongue laps at your wetness, and it coats his lips, his chin, coats him in you. The damp heat of his tongue is liquid fire. It promises to scorch you, end you, and rise you anew like a phoenix from the ashes.

Your fingers sink into the strands of Fin’s hair and tug. Judging by the noise he makes, the way his pace picks up, you think he likes it.

He utterly fucking devours you, like he’s fought a centuries-long wait to do so. And whatever magic commands his mouth — you know you cannot possibly last against it.

“Oh, gods,” your moan breaks from you, hips bucking up. You think your voice might be loud, but you don’t care. “Fuck—Fin.”

It all happens at once — his name falling from your lips, the growl rumbling in his throat, the flicking of his tongue against your clit and the finger he plunges into you, curls inside you. Every part of it is lightning strikes to your veins, and you come apart, utterly break.

Your climax slams into you and steals your breath. You’re nothing but a gasping, panting, trembling shell. Your mind is somewhere else entirely.

With your head falling back, eyes pinned to the ceiling, chest heaving, you don’t catch the swiftness with which Fin stands, licking your wetness from his lips. With which his clothes are gone in a blink of an eye.

But then he commands, “Look at me.”

It’s the second time he’s said it. Your head lolls forward once more.

You swallow the breaths you’re still trying to get down. Try to stop your body fucking shaking.

But it’s no wonder it does, as you look at him.

Your High Lord is nothing short of exquisite. He is art. Your fantasies have done him no justice.

That golden skin of his seems to attract the glowing light of the room. It bathes him, but it does not steal the attention. It outlines every fine plane of his body, the sculpted muscles on show, the nicks of injuries that have scarred and silvered over time.

There is not a single part of him that isn’t pure, refined power. And when your gaze drops to below his waist…a shudder wracks through you.

His cock stands hard and leaking at the head. You watch, your mouth watering, as he wraps a hand around its length and gives a long stroke.

“Fin—”

“When you look at me like that,” he prowls closer, “there is no way I can consider this forbidden.”

He’s within reach. Your fingers inch towards him. You want to touch him, taste him—

But he curls a hand around yours and stops you in your tracks.

“Not tonight,” he says. Pure promise is laced within the words. “No playing tonight.”

As if he hadn’t just played with you. You want to protest, to get your fucking mouth around that considerable length, but his hand tightens around yours.

And then he’s flipping you over, so fast that you don’t have time to even register it. You land on your front, your belly and breasts pressed against the desk. Fin lays his palm against your back and drags it slowly down. And in the wake of his touch, he leaves kisses. Kisses to your shoulder, your back. They’re…soft. Tender.

“Have I disappointed you?” he murmurs against your shoulder, folding his body over yours. You don’t think it’s an accident that the head of his cock nudges that sweet area between your legs.

It’s all you can do to breathe, “I wanted to taste you.”

“And you will,” he drops the brush of a kiss to your skin. “But now is not time for that.”

You don’t need him to tell you what now is the time for. Not as his hands find the flesh of your hips, and he yanks you to the very edge of the desk, moving with you. The feel of him so close to where you want him is downright cruel.

“Have you thought about me fucking you?” he asks, those hands travelling to rove your ass.

Your nails bite into the desk as you answer, “Yes.”

“Did I make you scream?”

You bite down on your lip at the feeling of him spreading you apart, opening you up to him. “Yes.”

You feel it — his cock sliding between your folds. Not pushing in, but dragging torturously against your sex. From your entrance, up to your clit. The head of his cock pushes against it.

And the moan that rips from you is downright filth, as he rolls his hips and allows your wetness to slicken his length. It feels so fucking good. To you, and to him.

A breath shudders out of him, and he purrs, “Are you going to scream for me now?”

“Fuck yes,” the words tumble from your lips. “I want you, Fin.”

Just like that, his restraint snaps. The High Lord strikes.

He drags his length through your folds and enters you with a single, powerful thrust.

A shout leaves you, and you’re clawing at the desk, trying to keep your grip against the pleasure that courses through you. Fin fills you and stretches you. He pulls out and slams back in to the hilt.

“Fuck me, you’re tight,” he growls, his hands sinking back into your hips. He begins a steady thrusting, sliding in and out of you with a drag that makes you feel every glorious inch of him. “Gods.”

“So good,” you pant. “Want you harder.”

The plea seems to make him groan, and he wastes no time in picking up the pace. His hands bite into your skin as he fucks you faster, harder, your moans and pleas and curses falling from your lips without any nudging from you. The pleasure is all-consuming. In seconds, it’s buried within your veins.

“You like that?” The grit in his voice has you clenching around him. He’s so fucking filthy, so fucking sultry, as he snarls, “you going to be a good girl and come for me?”

Gods, yes, you are. Already, release is coiling tightly within you, and it’s a force entirely of its own right, inching closer and cresting the hill, ready to sink its claws into you. Fin’s cock hits deep, and out of nowhere, his palm is flying through the air and making contact with your ass cheek. That is all it takes.

The pleasure of it all is too much — the sting of the slap, the depth and thrall of his thrusts, the way he growls and grunts as he lays claim to your body, your pleasure.

You cry out, your orgasm blasting through you with unstoppable force. The long strokes of Fin’s cock fuck you through it, through earth-shattering pleasure, through what feels like a mind-altering experience.

“My filthy girl,” he pulls out of you suddenly, and though your cunt still clenches and twitches, desperate for more, more, more, he flips your trembling body onto its back once more and tugs you up, slipping back between your legs. “Fuck, I can’t tell you how relentlessly I’ve thought about making you scream for me like that.”

Past words, you can only reach up and pull his head down to yours to capture him in a kiss. Your taste still coats the tongue that he slides between your lips. It spurs you on to deepen it, luxuriate in the feel of it. And you become so lost in it that you tug hard at the strands of his hair when he enters you again in one great, sweeping thrust.

His arm folds around your back, hand grasping at your shoulder, and it seems to afford him perfect purchase to pound into you. Sounds fill the air of his skin slapping against yours, of the breaths and moans you huff into each other’s mouths. You think the two of you, together, might be loud enough, forceful enough, to bring the City of Starlight to rubble around you.

Fin’s lips tear away from yours, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. His thrusts are growing quicker, sloppier, reaching a feverous pinnacle that will surely break.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me come, Y/N,” his sweat-slick brow presses against your neck. “Taking me so well like this. Squeezing me like this. You’re going to make me fucking blow.”

You want that — more than anything. To feel the power of him spilling into you.

You squeeze your thighs against his, dragging your free hand — the one not sunken in his hair — down the muscles of his shoulders, his back, his waist — to his ass, where you dig your nails into the tight, toned flesh and encourage him to pump into you harder, faster. The feel of it makes Fin shout.

“Come for me,” you choke around your pleasure. “Please, Fin…want you to come.”

An animalistic growl rips from him, and he slams into you one, two, three more times, and then stills, throwing his head back with a roar that shakes the library. Hot, thick ropes of his seed seem endless as they’re unleashed inside you.

The force of it shatters you both, you think. With his trembling as thorough as yours, your nails are still raking over his skin as his brow presses to the crook of your neck. Strands of hair stick to the back of his. Your fingertips smooth over them tenderly.

It feels like eons that you stay there like that, holding each other up from collapsing under the weight of your mutual release. You want to hold him like this, always. You don’t care what others may have to say about it, what they may deem to be wrong about it. You want him.

He pulls back, as though sensing the thought. Meets your eyes. For a beat or two, he simply studies your face, something like clarity on his own.

And then he dips down and drops a kiss to your brow. Such a tender act, in the wake of such passion.

 No words are needed. Not as he scoops you up into his arms, leaving behind the mess the two of you have created. There’s a flash, and he’s winnowed you to your bedroom. A fire roars to life immediately. Fin places you down on the bed.

You watch through hooded eyes as he makes his way into the bathroom. Moments later, he’s returning with a warm, damp washcloth, and he perches beside you.

“Open your legs for me,” he whispers, and you do.

The High Lord of the Night Court is gentle as air as he takes care of you, wiping between your thighs and delivering soft, soothing strokes to your skin. A pleasant soreness sits in your lower belly. He leans down and presses a kiss there like he knows just that.

And then he’s sitting up, and it frightens you — the thought of him walking away, of this ending here and now.

So you lay a hand on his arm, breathing, “Stay with me.”

He pauses, eyes roaming your face like he’s assuring himself you mean it. And then he dips his chin.

“I would be honoured,” he rasps.

And thus, the affair begins.

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

The need you and Fin have for each other is…insatiable.

Every moment he’s away, you’re thinking of him, longing for the moment he’ll appear in your room and rip your clothes off. If anyone else in the palace — staff, servants, associates — are aware of what’s going on, they don’t give it away. And that suits you just fine.

You can’t get enough. You’re giddy with it. Giddy from the multiple, interesting circumstances you’ve landed yourself in.

Like when you lured him out of a meeting and dropped to your knees in a fucking broom closet, taking his cock into your mouth until he was canting his hips forward and spilling down your throat. Or when he fucked you on the balcony of his personal quarters, your body pressed up against the balustrade, the two of you open to the elements and your moans loud enough to reach the stars above you and the city below you. Or when he took you to watch the ballet, and up in the cushy surrounds of your private viewing box, you watched the performance with him deep inside you, his fingers indolently playing with your clit, his low voice in your ear reminding you to keep quiet.

It’s…exciting. Enthralling. It changes everything.

And as he pulls out of you now, sweaty and panting, and collapses beside you in his bed, you’re not sure you could ever tire of this feeling.

He wants you. He wants you so ferociously, like nobody has ever wanted you before.

As you catch your breaths, he props his head up with his hand and stares at you through hooded eyes, glazed with lust. He leans down and grazes a kiss to your mouth.

“I don’t know how to make it stop,” he ponders as he pulls back, moving a hand to brush his fingers over your breast. “All this need — wanting you constantly.”

You lean up on your elbows, tilting your head, “Do you want it to stop?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Never.”

Never. Never is a very long time. It makes your stomach flip — the enormity of it.

Fin circles the tip of his forefinger around your pebbled nipple, watching with predatory fascination as he adds, “But this will, inevitably, blow up in our faces at some point. We haven’t exactly been secretive — not that I want to be. But people will talk.”

You lean up to brush your mouth over his. “Let them talk,” you say, and kiss him.

Immediately, he melts into the kiss. Your mouth seems to have an effect on him that you never thought yourself capable of. Always draws a long, pleasured sigh from him as he sinks into it, welcomes it.

He kisses you and kisses you, so greedily, so desperately. His hand snakes up to cup your cheek. He’s already hardening against your leg.

But he pulls away, dropping his forehead against yours. And he breathes, “Make a bargain with me.”

You trace a thumb over his bottom lip. You’ve never made a Night Court bargain before; never had reason to. “What bargain?”

“When this blows up in our faces,” he grips your hand, folding his own over it, “we face it together. You and I.”

“You and I?”

“You and I” he kisses your hand. “I don’t claim to be perfect. I don’t try to be. I can be brutal and callous, and I can lie and play games,” another kiss. “But not with you. Never with you. I will look after you. Take care of you. I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”

Words that you’ve always longed for someone to say to you. Words that should not be taken lightly, should not be said without meaning.

But you know he means them. You can tell he does.

You watch closely as your fingers interlace with his. And you whisper, “Together?”

Fin’s thumb sweeps over yours. “Together. We’ll face it together.”

“Then it’s a bargain.”

A flash of splintering pain zips around your midriff. You glance down to find the tattoo now inked there. The black line that draws a perfect circle around your waist, like a trail of night-kissed lightning.

You look up at Fin to find a roguish smile playing on his lips.

“Oh, I like that,” he hums.

And then he’s leaning down and pressing kisses to that circlet signifying your promise to one another. Kisses the entirety of it, flipping you on your front in the process.

And kisses lower, until you’re screaming for him again.

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-a-girlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

[moonchild9350]

Your Sweet Angel

Summary: Your days are long, you’re a mess, your mind all over the place. But things can change with the help of an angel, a light in your dark life.

Pairing: fantasy au Felix x fab reader

Genre: smut 18+MDNI

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: dubcon I guess? I mean consent is given eventually ha. Coercion, nipple play, p in v penetration, creampie (don’t), mystical being?, stalkish. Let me know if I missed anythingl

Notes: idk where this came from lol. The thoughts that run through my mind late at night when I should be sleeping. I just had to write it down lol. This is lightly edited so please excuse any typos!

If you like let me know! Likes, comments, reblog always appreciated ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

It was a difficult day, from the moment your day began. You overslept, the traffic caused your head to hurt, your coworkers testing your patience. Yeah, it’s definitely been a tough day.

To clear your mind you decided to take a walk, breathing in the cool, night air, the moon shining brightly in the sky, the stars illuminating your path. You walked and walked, humming a random song to yourself, your hands in your pockets.

Before you knew it, you found yourself at the park, darkness settling in, with the glow of the lamps providing a soft light. You decided to walk through, safety be damned, you didn’t care about anything at this point.

You made your way along the path, your mind clearing more and more with each step. However, about half way through, you heard a voice. The voice was singing, the song ethereal in the night air.

Looking up you saw a man sitting on the ledge of one of the walls lining the pathway. He was gorgeous, angelic almost in the lightening. He seemed to be swaying with the music only he could hear. You looked closer and noticed his eyes were closed, a soft smile spread across his face.

You stepped up to him and just watched and listened, enjoying his voice and the serenity of the moment. Eventually the song must have finished, because he stopped swaying and opened his eyes, the dark orbs finding yours in the darkness

He smiled, the action traveling to his eyes, as he beckoned you forward with his tiny hands. You shouldn’t go near him, the alarms in your head going off, but you couldn’t help it. You slowly made your way to the mysterious man, stopping before him.

You were able to take in his face more and how beautiful was it. His eyes looked up at you with such softness, freckles littering his face.

“Hi, I’m Felix,” the man said.

You were nervous, your voice stuck in your throat. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You blushed in embarrassment, your eyes falling to your feet. Why were you still here? You were definitely ignoring all thoughts of stranger danger, but you couldn’t move. It felt like you were under a spell.

“Don’t be shy,” Felix said, flashing his soft smile again.

“I’m…I’m y/n.”

“Hi y/n,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

At his words you looked up, confusion on your face.

“You’ve been waiting for me?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.

“Mmhmm, I have.” Felix said. “And now you’re here. Let’s go, we have no time to waste, time is running out.”

You were confused by his words. Time is running out? What does that mean? However, you didn't get no other explanation. Instead, Felix reached out his hand to you, beckoning you to take it.

You hesitated for a moment, but after a few moments, felt calm, and took his hand in yours. Felix smiled his warm smile once more and gave your hand a squeeze. You blinked and before you knew it, you were in a different location.

You were shocked so to say. You were just at the park, outside at that, but now you were in a little room. Startled you looked around, taking in your surroundings. You noticed there was a soft light bathing the room, not enough to light the whole space, but enough to see your way around.

There was a bed in the middle of the room, the sheets seeming inviting and warm. Felix watched your every move, taking in your beauty. He has been waiting for you and here you are, in the flesh.

You saw Felix step to you in the corner of your eyes, a calming sensation falling over you. Felix brushed his hand across your cheek, his fingers light and delicate on your skin.

“Let’s go to bed love,” he said, his voice deeper than it had been.

You nodded your head, following the strange man to the bed. He looked you in the eyes and smiled before gently pushing you back, causing you to lay down. You sighed as the soft sheets hit your back, the feeling heavenly.

Looking above you, you watched as Felix hovered above you before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. You were shocked at first before you relaxed, more of that calming sensation washing over you.

You met his lips again and again, his soft lips molding perfectly with yours. Before you knew it you had your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling the strange man ever closer to you.

He grinned against your lips. “Let me take care of you love. I’ve been waiting so long for this moment.”

You nodded your head yes, wanting…no needing more of this man. You pressed your lips against his in one moment and the next you felt his warm skin against yours, as both his and your clothes were gone.

That shocked you a little, a question forming on your lips. Felix seemed to see your internal struggle and pulled you closer, as he pressed more sweet kisses along your cheek, your jaw, and moving down to your chest.

Your question was forgotten as you felt his warm mouth wrap around your nipple. You cried out as he licked and nipped the sensitive bud as he gently caressed your other breast. Your pleasure felt heightened more than usual, causing you to cry out, your slick gushing out of your pussy.

Felix was happy, listening to your cries of pleasure, happy he could satisfy you. He’s waited so long after all, carefully watching you, waiting for the perfect moment. He couldn’t wait, not a moment more.

You felt Felix shift, as he sat up and parted your legs wider, spreading them so he could see you better. He smiled down at you, his freckles dancing with each pull of skin, making him seem more beautiful then ever.

“Ready love?” He asked, grabbing his cock in his hands, stroking the hard member.

You gulped, unsure of when he became naked, his beautiful body bared for your viewing pleasure. You nodded your head without thought, your body seeming to work on autopilot.

Felix grinned before pushing his cock into your warm walls, stretching you out with each inch. You gasped at the sensation, never feeling more full in your life. You moaned in pleasure as he rocked against you, his hair falling onto his face, obscuring his beautiful features.

You reached up as he thrust into you, brushing his hair out of the way and grasping his face. You stared into his eyes as he brought you to ecstasy, his cock hitting all the right spots within you. You took in every expression, every detail of the man above you, watching as his eyebrows scrunched up with each thrust, his grunts getting more pronounced as time went on.

Little did you know, Felix was taking you in as well. He was lost in your eyes, the pleasure evident as he felt your walls wrap around his cock again and again. He reveled in your embrace, your hands delicately gripping his face. He could look at you forever, your beauty unmatched to anyone he’s come across. He wanted to make sure you felt his love, his undying love for you…even if you had no clue who is was.

As Felix continued to thrust into you, you felt a change, a subtle change. You felt a warm feeling deep within your belly. It steadily grew as moments passed, spreading to your thighs and down to your toes. Each thrust of Felix’s cock, the appendage kissing your cervix, caused your body to tingle.

Felix locked eyes with you and opened his mouth to speak. “Cum for me love, become mine.”

You let out a loud moan at his words, the warm feeling intensifying, causing your ears to ring and vision go white. Your pussy clenched around his cock, your walls fluttering as you ride out your high.

Felix was enamored with you, the sight before him everything he’s dreamed of. He let go, his warm cum painting your walls white, filling you to the brim. He leaned down to kiss you, his lips lingering on yours for a few more moments.

“Thank you love,” Felix whispered as he withdrew his now softened cock.

You felt sleepy, your eyes growing heavy as you laid bare before him, his cum seeping from your walls and onto the sheets. You couldn’t keep you eyes open, as you drifted off, the last sight you saw was Felix gazing down at you lovingly…and with a hint of sadness?

You couldn’t think, not anymore as you succumbed to sleep, your mind empty as you slumbered.

“Until next time love,” Felix said.

He knew you couldn’t hear him. He didn’t want you to, so he made sure you were calm enough to fall asleep into a deep slumber. He placed one last kiss on your forehead vowing to find you again.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You woke with a start, your eyes wide as you set up in bed. You looked around in confusion. You were back in your room, tucked into your bed, wearing your favorite pajamas.

But wait…that can’t be right. You were with a man…right? And definitely not here in your room. Where was the man? Didn’t you sleep with him? What was his name again?

You tried hard to remember last night, but nothing came to you, your mind fuzzy. Maybe it was a dream. Yeah, definitely a dream you thought.

You got ready for the day as usual, hoping today would be better. As you made your way to work, you hummed a little song. You’d heard it recently, someone else singing it at first. You’re not sure where you heard it, but it stuck in you.

As you hummed and pulled into the parking lot, you felt calm all of a sudden. Your mind was quiet, the thoughts that usually crowd it at this time of day gone. You didn’t complain though, happy for the quiet. You walked to the doors of the building and opened them, making your way to your office.

You didn’t see the man, watching you from afar, keeping his distance. He smiled as he saw you happily walk into work. He was happy he finally was able to meet you, to be with you. Now that you’re in his grasp, he isn’t letting you go. Your his just as much as he’s yours.

He’ll visit you again, it won’t be long. Now that he has a taste of you, he can’t stay away. But that’s for another day. With the breeze of the wind, the trees swaying around him, the man disappeared, into thin air. Maybe one day he’ll get to reveal his true self to you, but until then he’ll keep visiting you, making sure you’re happy with every day that passes.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Three

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : M - frisky but not entirely smutty

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some friskiness and a mention of a self-inflicted cut. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.8k

A/N : Keeping with my tradition of Billy going a little feral in the third chapter. Also a tumblr bug keeps messing up my tag lists.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Chapter Three

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Instead, you found yourself tossing and turning, playing that moment over and over in your mind; the way his dark eyes had seemed to look right through you, the way his cold hand had felt on your neck over your racing pulse. Just thinking about it caused your body to heat and your cheeks to burn with shame.

What would have happened if he hadn’t pulled away?

What would you have let happen?

Fingers gripped the fabric of your satin pyjamas, your hand anchoring itself as you resisted the urge to relieve the gentle throb that still lingered between your thighs.

What had he done to you?

Had he done anything at all?

You weren’t sure. You’d heard stories of vampires seducing people, bending them to their wills but, honestly, it hadn’t felt like that. And if it had been that, why had he pulled away? No, you’d been annoyed with him, you’d wanted to show him that you weren’t some silly naive child who didn’t know what she was doing, only it had backfired.

Eventually sleep claimed you, his words echoing in your mind as you drifted off; ‘like sunlight and innocence, sweet, like warm honey.’

Five hours later, your alarm startled you awake. You felt exhausted but sleep had cleared your head enough to let you think more objectively and to help you realise that you’d been a little ridiculous. His touch had caught you off-guard but he hadn’t done anything to you beyond that and, if anything, you’d been the one thinking about him kissing you. You were the one who had wanted him to kiss you.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were starting to go a little stir-crazy trapped in the penthouse, and Billy was - well, he was just about the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he annoyed you with the smug way he looked at you and the way he spoke to you like he didn’t think you really understood the world that you’d found yourself in, he’d been kind so far. At least, kinder than any employer needed to be to their employee.

In a moment of silliness, you’d allowed yourself to view that kindness as something more, you’d allowed yourself to engage in some ridiculous fantasy that he might kiss you, might want you, when all he’d really done was try to keep you company.

And Lissa had warned you of the effect that your embarrassment could have on vampires. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how your racing heart must have made him feel.

After getting out of bed, you tried to go about your day as usual, trying not to think about the night before but, instead, thinking of ways to avoid it in future. It didn’t take long for you to realise that the only thing that was going to stop you from going stir-crazy was going outside, being able to leave the penthouse for a few hours. You didn’t know what you’d do or where you’d go, but you were certain that it would help.

But you’d need permission to go outside, and that meant you were going to have to ask Billy. 

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed - of course he’d agree, why wouldn’t he? Your job was to provide blood, and all that really took was ten to twenty minutes of your day. As long as there was something waiting for him in the fridge every day, did it really matter where you’d been?

Of course, you understood that there were other rules, things you’d have to remember; only eating food from the approved list (though, once you started thinking about that you weren’t sure why that was so important), no sex (something you were embarrassingly used to), and not letting any other vampires feed from you (which you had no intention of doing regardless of Mr Russo’s rules). The point was that you could stick to his rules just as easily out of the penthouse as you could inside of it so, to your mind at least, there really was no reason for him to refuse to give you permission to go out.

You distracted yourself by doing some baking, paying more attention to the approved food list than you had since arriving. Maybe you’d ask Billy about it, get him to explain why you weren’t allowed to eat certain things. For one little cynical moment, it almost felt like he wanted to control every aspect of your life, even though your job didn’t require it.

Once you’d had dinner, you decided to remain in your rooms, distracting yourself with Netflix for an hour or so before it was time to draw blood and take it out ready for Billy. 

You stepped out of your quarters just as he was emerging from his rooms. For a second he seemed almost shocked that you weren’t in your usual place on the sofa, but he didn’t seem to dwell on the thought. Instead his eyes dropped to the blood in your hand.

“Excellent timing,” he said with a grin, heading towards the kitchen.

For a second you hesitated, not saying a word when you finally made your way towards him, watching his back as he pulled an insulated travel mug from a cupboard. 

Was going to take your blood with him? Was he going to walk the streets of New York sipping your blood like it was his venti cappuccino from Starbucks? The thought unsettled you, though you weren’t sure why. Still, you placed the bottle down on the counter beside him and took a step back.

“Did you not watch the sunset tonight?” He asked, his attention momentarily turning to you. You shook your head and mumbled something about being tired. If he cared, he didn’t let it show, quickly turning his attention back to your blood. “Still warm,” he remarked quietly, running his teeth over his lower lip as he poured it into his travel mug.

A memory from the night before came back to you, completely unbidden; the sound he’d made, that gentle almost-moan from the back of his throat. Your blood had still been warm then too - was that how he preferred it? Did it remind him of drinking from a person rather than a glass? You shook your head, trying to force that thought away.

“I -” you opened your mouth and the word just tumbled out.

Billy turned back to you, pressing the lid onto the mug in his hand. He waited a beat before prompting you to continue; “yes?”

“I -” you started again, your cheeks warming and your heart beating a little fast. The way his eyes narrowed a little told you that he could hear it, and that just made you feel worse. “I was wondering if I could have permission to go outside tomorrow.”

“Oh,” that single syllable making your request sound banal and trivial. He regarded you for a moment. “No, not to tomorrow,” he decided, but before you could open your mouth to respond, he continued; “we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

“But, I -” you started but stopped the moment he let out an irritated sigh.

“Are you not happy here? Would you like to terminate your contract?” He asked, as if you’d been asking him for far more than just a few hours outside.

“It’s not that,” you tried to explain, again feeling so small in front of him, “It’s just... lonely being on my own all the time, and being cooped up indoors is -”

“I said we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

You fell silent, gaze dropping to the floor as he walked away from you, heading towards the elevator. Once he was inside and the door had shut, you kicked the nearest kitchen unit in frustration, achieving nothing but hurting your bare foot.

Storming back to your room, you felt - you felt like a child, like you’d been refused permission to play outside with your friends. It felt like you’d just been grounded, even though you’d done nothing wrong. 

But you weren’t a child, you were an adult, and he had no right to make you feel so small and pathetic.

You paced your room in anger, feeling claustrophobic, like you’d never get to leave. He’d make you spend a whole year trapped indoors just because he could. It felt like you’d traded one prison for another by coming to New York, by taking this job. But, if you left now, where would you go? 

As much as you wanted to call Lissa and tell her you wanted your things so you could leave, you had no money and nowhere to go but home, and that fate seemed far worse than this one. 

Despite feeling tired, you spent another restless night before sleep claimed you, and you woke with a headache that followed you for the rest of the day. You felt listless and, for the first time since arriving, you didn’t want to follow the schedule that you’d created for yourself; you didn’t take a walk on the treadmill, didn’t visit the library to listen to music or read, you could barely even bring yourself to eat beyond some toast for breakfast and noodles for dinner.

He said you could talk about being allowed out that evening but, the longer you were left with that thought, the more you managed to convince yourself that he’d just say no. So, you decided to save him the effort of the conversation. You drew blood early, long before you expected him to emerge from his rooms, and placed it in the refrigerator for him before returning to your bedroom and locking the door. 

You spent the rest of the evening just like you’d spent the day; in your pyjamas watching crappy cartoons on Netflix, trying not to think about how you were going to survive a whole year of this when you hadn’t even managed to make it to two weeks before starting to come apart at the seams.

It was easy to lose track of time and fall asleep on the sofa in your room only to wake up a few hours later, uncomfortable and cold. You eventually went to bed, not bothering to set an alarm for the next morning, laying in until some time after midday. 

The extra sleep didn’t help matters and, somehow, you still felt exhausted. Something else you decided to blame on being stuck indoors. 

You forced yourself to shower and wash your hair before putting on some clean clothes, hoping that it would make you feel a little bit better about yourself. It did, but you definitely hadn’t done yourself any favours by not eating much the day before. You tried to make up for it by cooking yourself a proper meal for dinner.

Drawing blood left you feeling sick but you decided to get it over and done with early, so you could crawl back into bed, but you should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy.

When you stepped out into the penthouse, you were surprised to find him out there, sitting on the sofa, hours before sunset. You faltered, thinking about turning back, but you had blood for him. He didn’t even have to look to realise you were there.

“I must have missed you last night,” he said, finally turning to look at you, ignoring your obvious uncertainty. “Or were you avoiding me?”

“I thought my job was to provide you with blood, not be your friend,” you answered sharply, heading towards the kitchen, wanting to get the moment over and done with as quickly as possible.

“You’re upset with me?” When the question was left unanswered, he got to his feet and followed you to the kitchen. “Is this because I wouldn’t give you permission to go out?”

You didn’t even look at him as you placed the blood in the fridge and turned to head back to your room. But he wasn’t going to let you walk away. He stepped in front of you, blocking you, his cold hand beneath your chin urging you to look at him.

“I can’t fix whatever this is if you don’t explain it to me,” he told you, hand lingering beneath your chin, making sure you didn’t look away.

Standing in front of him like this, you finally got a true appreciation of his height and just how much he towered over you.

“You told me that I have power in this arrangement,” you spoke around the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “It doesn’t feel like I do.”

“You do, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“Then why can’t I go out? Why is it such a big deal for me to go to a coffee shop or a museum for a couple of hours?” You asked, trying to ignore the cold, light touch of his fingers. “Why do I even need permission?”

“Because it isn’t safe,” Billy stated flatly. “For either of us.”

You weren’t sure what explanation you’d been expecting him to offer, but that certainly hadn’t been it.

“What do you mean?” Your confusion written across your face.

“I thought you understood what you were getting into when you took this job,” Billy sighed, his hand finally dropping back to his side

“I -” your gaze dropped again but only for a moment, “- I thought I did too.”

As much as it made you feel helpless, like some stupid, naive child, you were willing to confess in this instance that you didn’t understand. But you wanted to. You wanted to know why he seemed so intent on keeping you in the penthouse, and why he thought your going outside might be dangerous for either of you.

“Just because this is legal it doesn’t mean that people are accepting of it. There are those that would hurt you to get to me, or simply because they don’t agree with our arrangement.” Another sigh slipped from his lips and you watched as his shoulder lifted in an uncomfortable half-shrug. “I told you, you’re my responsibility, and if anything happened to you -”

“Why isn’t it safe for you if I go out?” You asked, wanting to understand which of you he was truly trying to protect.

“Because I’m the monster that’s taking advantage of the sweet, innocent young girl’s desperation, keeping you in my thrall so I can drain your blood,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if that was what was actually happening here. “If anyone found out, they’d burn the building to the ground.”

There was something about his voice, something that you knew should have scared you, something dark and sinister. You felt your cheeks start to heat, and that strange unwanted feeling growing in your stomach.

“I’m not -”

“What? Sweet? Innocent? Desperate?” The corners of his lips curled upwards as his dark eyes stared into yours. “Or do you really believe you’re not in my thrall?”

Your cheeks felt like they were burning and, despite taking a slow breath, your heart started to beat a little fast. His lips continued to curl upwards, and it took you a few seconds to realise that he was joking.

“That’s not funny,” you remarked quietly.

“It doesn’t have to be funny,” he shrugged, “it’s what people will believe regardless of what I do.”

“It’s not like I’d go out and tell people what I do for you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Who’d want to admit to any of this?” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice and you immediately felt bad. 

As complicated as all of this was and as much as you didn’t like how much control he had over things, it was what you’d accepted and agreed to. He wasn’t holding you prisoner, you could quit whenever you wanted. By admitting that you’d want to keep this hidden, you were admitting to being ashamed of what you were doing, you were admitting that some part of you felt like it was wrong.

All he’d really done was give you a job. And all he was doing was trying to exist.

Billy allowed the silence to linger for a few moments before breaking it.

“Like I said, we can discuss the possibility of you going out, but I would prefer that you didn’t go alone.”

“But, how - I mean, you can’t -”

“Go out during the day? No, I can’t,” he decided to intervene and save you any further embarrassment. “But I have human friends or, if you’d prefer, there are plenty of places open after dark. We could even go to dinner...”

“Dinner?” It seemed like a strange offer for him to make. “I didn’t think vampires ate?”

Billy gave the slightest huff of laughter, no doubt at your lack of knowledge. He shook his head, obviously forcing back his smile.

“We can eat, it just doesn’t sustain us the way it does for humans.”

“Oh,” was the only word you allowed to fall from your lips. You had questions - so many questions - but you didn’t want to ask because it would just show your ignorance further. And it didn’t even cross your mind that your boss had basically just asked you to go to dinner with him.

“I can’t promise I’ll be able to arrange anything straight away, but if you really want to go out I’ll sort something out. I just need you to be patient, okay?” He told you and you nodded, not happy but certainly feeling a little bit better knowing that you’d eventually be able to go outside.

The conversation over, you wanted to return to your room and rest, hoping you’d feel better by tomorrow. But you didn’t move and neither did Billy. He stayed silent, watching you, considering you for a moment.

Then his hand was on your cheek and your breath caught.

“You look tired,” his voice soft now, sad even.

“I’m fine,” you lied.

“You’re not. You’re not sleeping enough and you haven’t been eating properly.”

“How -” you shook your head, deciding you didn’t want to know, but Billy decided to answer regardless.

“Your blood.” When you didn’t respond, he continued. “The agreement is that you stay in good health, that includes eating and sleeping. I know that all of this has been an adjustment for you, but I need to know that going forward you’ll do what’s required to take care of yourself.”

You almost wanted to laugh. For a split-second you’d almost thought that he might actually be concerned for you, that he might care about your wellbeing. But, no, he only cared because - what? Your blood didn’t taste as nice when you were tired and hungry? 

“Yes, Mr Russo,” you answered, finally forcing yourself to take a step back, causing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

He was about to remind you to call him Billy but, obviously, he thought better of it. Nodding, he let you go.

“I won’t be back until late tomorrow night,” he told you and, again, all you could do was nod as you slipped back through the door to your rooms and headed for your bedroom.

As you sat down on your sofa and turned on the TV, you couldn’t help but think over everything that had been said. You could still hear the bitterness in his voice when you’d admitted that you didn’t want anyone to know about your arrangement. With time to think about it, you knew it wasn’t fair; people might not accept or understand it but, really, it was no one else’s business what either of you did. Besides, what was the alternative? Plenty of people sold blood, a lot of them made a living working for blood farms. How was this any different? 

You even grudgingly understood why he wasn’t comfortable letting you go out without an escort. The longer you sat and thought about it the more conflicted you felt. Billy seemed to be trying and you were - you didn’t even know what you were doing anymore. You were being difficult. In part that was because of him, because of his demeanour, because he was just so damned attractive, but that didn’t excuse your behaviour.

Regardless of how you felt about him or about anything, you’d agreed to his conditions at the start of this and you didn’t get to throw a tantrum when you didn’t get your way. If Billy was willing to meet you halfway, then that would have to do.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, you sat back and watched TV, trying to relax before you finally went to bed.

The next day was a reset, you started your little schedule all over again, and you decided that you were going to make more of an effort. This was a job and you were getting paid over two and a half thousand dollars a day, you needed to remember that fact. You needed this to work out. It was only a year and, after that, you’d never have to follow rules again.

You felt better, you felt like the last few days had been nothing more than a bump in the road; you were still getting used to everything, still getting used to dealing with Billy, that was all. 

It was nice having some space, knowing that you wouldn’t have to try and make conversation with him that night. It meant you could sit and read out in the penthouse and watch the sun going down. Though, it would have been a lie to say that you didn’t wonder where he was or what he was doing.

Before going to bed that night, you drew blood and left it in the fridge for him, for whenever he returned. Tomorrow, you’d bring up the subject of going outside again, even if it meant going out at night with him. With a tired sigh, you closed your eyes and quickly fell asleep

The sound of breaking glass and a pained howl pulled you from your sleep. It was still pitch black outside and, without thinking, you quickly left your room and headed out into the penthouse. 

The lights were on and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. The source of the noise was easy to spot; Billy in the kitchen, braced against the counter like it was the only thing holding him up, his head hanging forwards. The floor was a mess of blood and broken glass, and it was starting to become apparent what had happened here.

“Mr Russo?” You called softly, daring to slowly step towards him. He didn’t answer, so you tried again. “Billy?”

Tension seemed to fill his body, like a predator getting ready to pounce, but he didn’t move.

“Stay back.” 

It wasn’t his voice, it wasn’t that rough, dark tone that you’d been playing over in your head, it was something else. A snarl, an angry and desperate sound that had managed to claw and tear its way out of him.

Your heart started to pound, every ounce of common sense you possessed telling you to turn back, to lock yourself in your room. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t leave him not knowing if he was alright. It just wasn’t how you were raised.

“What happened?” A stupid question, but it helped break the silence. “Do you need help cleaning -”

He turned and your heart skipped a couple of beats, squeezing in your chest, causing your breath to catch. His dark eyes were almost completely black, like endless voids staring at you; his face was paler than ever and his hands were trembling uncontrollably at his sides.

You’d only seen something like this once before but you knew immediately what was happening.

He was  hungry.

“I said stay back,” his teeth bared, his voice causing your stomach to knot.

By the time you reached the kitchen, he’d turned to face you, his body pressed back against the counter like he was trying to keep himself away from you. You mind raced, trying to figure out what to do, trying to figure out how to help him. You couldn’t leave him like this - if not for his sake, but for the sake of anyone who might come across him.

(You were going to have to feed him, but you couldn’t let him bite you. You wouldn’t let him bite you.)

With slow movements, you reached for the cutlery drawer and cautiously removed a knife. You saw his eyes widen, a flicker of shock and fear on his face, like he thought you were going to turn the knife on him. But, without pause or hesitation, you drew the blade across your palm and offered him your bloody hand.

“Here,” you offered timidly.

“What are you -” but his words fell dead the second he looked at your hand. For a second he shrank back, fighting his nature as the hungry look on his face turned more desperate. Without warning, he surged forwards, taking your hand in his and pulling it to his lips. Your heart continued to race as you felt his lips against the wound, pounding an uncomfortable rhythm that echoed in your ears. 

You heard that sound from him again only, this time, it wasn’t suppressed; a guttural moan that vibrated through his chest as he pressed himself closer and closer to you. He didn’t stop pressing forward until you felt the counter at your back, his hard body against yours, leaving no space between you.

The floor disappeared beneath you. No, you quickly realised that you had been lifted up, placed on the counter. His hips slotted between your thighs, pressing closer still, and - oh.

You gasped at the hard outline of his cock between your legs and the way he started to grind himself against you. It was too much and not enough all at once. It was wrong and you knew it shouldn’t be happening but all you could think about was satisfying the dull throb that you’d felt between your legs for days. It wasn’t long before your cheeks started to heat, feeling the wetness of your arousal quickly soaking through your satin pyjama bottoms. Instead of coming to your senses and pulling away, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer.

A whimper escaped you as his free hand slipped beneath your pyjama top, his cold fingers trailing upwards until his hand was palming your breast, his icy touch causing your nipple to pebble. 

The longer it went on, the more it felt like some wonderful dream, like it wasn’t really happening. You felt like you could float away at any more moment, the whole world turning on its axis, all because of him. You couldn’t think why, couldn’t summon enough rational thought to think those feelings through, not when you could feel just how thick and hard his cock was.

His lips pulled from your hand, leaving you feeling breathless. The blood smeared across his mouth should have disgusted you - everything about this should have disgusted you - but it didn’t. All you could think about was the euphoric sensation of his hips moving against yours, pushing you closer and closer to a breaking point, so you didn’t shy away when his blood-slick lips slanted over yours or when his tongue slipped into your mouth.

The taste of your blood on his lips barely even seemed to register. You didn’t care. You couldn’t care. Everything about the moment was intoxicating, you felt drunk, lightheaded, like you couldn’t even control your own body anymore. All you could do was exist in the moment.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, blood soaking into his shirt as you held tight. Soon enough, your hips started moving against his, desperately seeking the sensation that now felt so close. All the while Billy kept kissing you, letting out unrestrained groans against your lips, obviously chasing his own satisfaction.

Desperate for breath, your lips finally pulled from his, your head dropped back taking gasped breaths between your moans. But it wasn’t enough to stop the room from spinning, to stop the feeling of losing yourself completely.

“My little hummingbird,” you heard him groan. 

Fingers fisted his hair as his lips moved to your neck, rough kisses quickly giving way to sucking and licking at your skin, while the press of his cock became more frenzied. Then you felt the scrape of teeth against your throat and -

Your vision swam, overcome by the most violent orgasm you’d ever experienced; your body shivering and shaking with the intensity of it before you slumped forward into his arms, losing consciousness.

Chapter Four

End Note : Idk why Billy always goes feral in the third chapter but here we are. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading!!

Tumblr is being stupid and only letting me mention 5 people at a time so this week I'm going to try putting all the mentions in the comments for the tag list. Sorry if you didn't get tagged last chapter

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List:

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17 @sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim @countryday

[chelseypprimrose]

Handy With His Hands / handyman!negan x housewife!reader / 18+ / pre-apocalypse

Warnings ⚠️ : unprotected sex, adultery, oral (f receiving), rough sex elements

Summary: being a housewife is quite dull, especially when your husband is a corporate jackass- until a sexy handyman comes to fix your shower.

A/N: I got this little saucy story in my head while reading some handyman!joel miller stories and I just thought: Negan + handyman? so hot! my stories are always something out of a cheesy porno scenario but idec , i know i’m never going to have these fantasies happen to me in the real world so i believe it’s self care to let my dulu stories write out on paper 🤭 please enjoy 🤍

not proof read yet 🫣

“can you please just get someone to come and look at that thing? i’m sick of having to take cold showers!” you exclaimed, your voice travelling from the kitchen to the living room where your husband was on a phone call. “i’m on the phone, honey.” he replied back, hidden annoyance in his tone, recognisable to you but if anyone else was to hear, they’d think it to be cheerful. you cursed him out in your head, counting down the hours until he was going to be gone on his long business trip. finally, you’d be able to take a break from your expected housewife duties, one of your favourite things to do when your husband was away, catch a few rays in your back garden, take a dip naked in the swimming pool. you had to find thrills where you could as your life was a revolving door of the same boring routine, day in and day out. you craved for something, some sort of adventure to come into your life and completely turn it on its head, you were still waiting on that day unfortunately.

you’d been married to your husband for around three years now, even if it felt like forty. it had been a fairytale at the beginning, he’d get you flowers every week, freshly picked, take you out for dinner at least four times a month, he’d seemed like the perfect man to get married to, until you were locked in, bounded by the commitment and paperwork. he’d neglected those responsibilities, it was rare for him to even take you out for a date night anymore, it was usually just forcing you to go to dinner meetings so he could show you off to potential clients, having to spend your evening being hit on and leered over by slimy old men, your body used to close business deals. always buying you some diamond necklace or earrings after the fact, to keep you happy. you spent most of your time at home when not being used as a dress up doll for your husband, cooking, cleaning, keeping the house in perfect condition - not that he ever noticed.

“alright, i’ve got someone coming round to look at the shower, i’ve got to leave for my flight dear. i love you. i’ll give you a call when i land.” he says, his suitcase rolling on four wheels beside him, his head coming down for a peck on your lips, absolutely no spark or electricity through the kiss, not like it used to be. you mumbled a love you back, as you watched him walk out of the front door, a sigh of relief when the door shut behind him. you took your apron off, placing it on the hook next to the cabinets in the kitchen. walking upstairs into your shared bedroom, you quickly changed out of your clothes, putting on a new two piece bikini you’d treated yourself to a couple weeks ago, topping it off with a pair of sunglasses to keep the sun out of your eyes. grabbing a towel on your way out, you slid the patio door open, folding out the towel and placing it on the sun lounger, sitting down on it and lounging out. connecting your phone to the bluetooth speaker outside, you decided to put on your relaxing mix, hoping it would help you get a small nap in before the repairman was here.

it was really hard to get one on such short notice, how your husband had been able to get one the same day baffled you, probably pulled some strings with one of his business buddies you thought. while you had good money in the bank, you despised how your husband would treat other people that weren’t in the same tax bracket as you both were. you were the more generous person in the relationship, giving to various charities when you could, even though it annoyed your husband to no end when you did. in a selfish way, you revealed in it, any subtle way you could piss him off without making it obvious that was your intention, you’d jump at the chance. giving money to those who needed it AND being able to make him angry - win win scenario.

you’d been sat in the back yard for around a hour, lightly snoring as you went in and out of a light sleep, you hadn’t heard the doorbell go the multiple times it had, being awoken when the wooden side gate hit the fence with a loud crash. “holy shit!” you shouted, pulling your sunglasses off your eyes to look towards the gate, seeing a man standing there with a large toolbox in his hand. “hey, didn’t mean to scare you doll. no one answered the doorbell and i saw the gate was unlocked so.” you got yourself up from the sun lounger, taking a couple steps towards the man so you could get a better look at him. damn he was fine, a tight white t-shirt with black cargo pants, covered in what looked like dust, white paint, other substances you could only assume he’d gotten from his line of work. a tattoo peeking out from underneath his sleeve, one on his forearm as well, steel-toe capped boots making slight clink noises as he moved on the concrete path underneath him, you thought he was too attractive to be a handyman, a ‘magic mike’ dancer sure, you give over everything in your bank account to see that little fantasy come to life. his hair slicked back and beard trimmed neatly, your eyes couldn’t help naturally scanning over his muscular, dominating frame.

“hi! you must be the handyman my husband ordered?” you asked, eyebrow raising as you put your hand out for a handshake. “well, i work for the same company, i’m Negan.” he introduced himself as he grasped your hand, meeting yours. his hand felt slightly calloused, a side effect from his job you gathered, you couldn’t deny how sexy they made you feel, being used to the smoothness of your husbands, it was a unlikely turn on. “oh right! i’m y/n. thank you for coming on such short notice, i’m absolutely sick of having cold showers, don’t know how much more i can take of it.” you joked, a small smile sat on your face. “i’ll show you where it is so you can get cracking, i bet there’s more things you’d rather be doing, so hopefully it won’t take too long.” you motioned for him to follow you, walking through the patio door.

Negan followed you into the house, unbeknownst to you, his eyes glued to your small bikini bottoms, showing off your ass in what could only be described as gorgeous. he knew it was wrong, looking at the bosses wife in such a way but he couldn’t help himself, becoming a recent single man again, he hadn’t had the time to get back into the dating scene which in turn meant he wasn’t getting any action and it was driving him nuts. he was only a man, when he’d got the call from your husband, he wasn’t expecting his wife to be home alone, dressed in a bikini, looking good enough to devour.

you got to the en suite bathroom, opening the door, showing him where the controls were. “here it is, i have no clue what’s wrong with it, it just won’t let any hot water through.” you stated, you’d never been good with stuff like this, your husband had always had people on call to fix problems around the house. “i’ll be fine doll, i’ve dealt with this problem loads of times before.” he waved it off with a laugh. “would you like anything to drink? to eat?” you questioned, putting on your best innocent smile. “i wouldn’t mind a coffee, doll but don’t make one on my account.” he beamed back at you, turning away to grab something from his toolbox, you took a look at his tight cargos as he bent down, they shaped the muscularity of his thighs perfectly, his ass looking perfect in them. “i’m sure i can rustle something up for you, how do you take it?” you asked, a slight smirk on your face from how you’d worded the question to him. “no milk, two sugars please. i like it sweet.” he bantered back, leaving you to saunter off to the kitchen.

you returned back to him, slightly boiling coffee in hand, placing it on the large counter where the sink and mirror were placed. “so, how long have you worked with my husband? i don’t think i’ve heard about you before?” you quizzed, knowing the names of your husbands many business partners and staff, you’d have remembered a unique name like Negan, you were sure. “ah not long, used to be a gym teacher before this job, needed a change and i’ve always been good with my hands.” you laughed, the image of Negan bossing around a load of pre teens making you smile. “i wouldn’t have pegged you as a gym teacher, to be honest with you!” he laughed right back at you, turning his head to look towards you. “yeah, a lot of people have told me that, i loved working with the little shits all day, gave them a run for their money, i can tell you that much.” he grimaced, realising what he’d done. “sorry doll, don’t mean to swear, pretty unprofessional of me.” you giggled again, shaking your head at him. “i don’t mind, stop worrying! it’s nice to be in the company of a man who doesn’t change himself to suit other people.” Negan took notice of that, wondering if you were talking about your husband. “well, that’s fucking me all over doll. so, what do you do?” you sighed, knowing how what you said next would come across. “housewife, i stay at home, look after the house and get taken to business dinners when i’m needed.” he noticed your drop in tone, he could sense that you weren’t really happy with that but he didn’t want to speak out of turn. “well your doing a bang up job, this place is immaculate.” you blushed, your husband had never complimented your hard work, always just expecting the house to be sorted, never thinking to thank you for your efforts. “thanks, it’s nice to hear that. i’ll let you get on, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

it was about a hour later when Negan had finally finished the shower, it now letting out hot water again. “you are a angel, finally i can have a nice shower!” you exclaimed, hands clapping enthusiastically, Negan laughing at your actions. “absolutely no problem doll.” he smiled at you, trying to escape his thoughts of you taking said shower, the bubbles dripping down your body as you washed them away, how good you’d look naked. “so, stop me if you have somewhere to be but i just got finished making dinner, i forgot i was alone so there is more than enough if you wanted to stay for some?” you asked sheepishly, expecting him to decline, a young single man probably had better things to do on a friday night than sit in with a boring housewife for dinner. “i’d love that doll. let me just take my tools back to my truck.” you freaked out internally, you were excited to spend some more time with this devilishly charming man, he was a breath of fresh air compared to the people you had to hang around with when you were with your husband. always other couples that were all business talk, how many sales they’d made that year and how much they were getting for their bonuses, it became exhausting over time.

you plated up the chicken florentine, along with some vegetables and sauce, bring the plate from the counter to the dining room table, the dimmed lights almost highlighting your body, you’d changed into a pretty sundress while he’d gone out to the truck, deciding a bikini wasn’t proper dinner attire, not bothering with underwear, if your plan was to go your way. placing the plates on the table, you grabbed a bottle of wine from the vast array of choice from the wine cooler and glasses for you both. you took a seat just as Negan walked back through the door, his eyes rising up as he smelt the food from the table. “fuck me doll, that smells good!” he clapped his hands together as he sat down beside you, starting to eat. “i hope you like it, i didn’t know if you ate meat but…” you trailed off. “no i do, i’m not one of those vegan pussies, don’t worry.” you laughed, his vulgar language causing a stir from within you. you poured out a glass of wine for you each before tucking in yourself. “i’ve got to say, i’ve never had such hospitality from anyone before, i’m always called to clients houses but the most i’m offered is a drink and then they leave me alone to work, this is a nice change.” you smiled, hoping you hadn’t been too much in his hair, you just couldn’t stop yourself, you wanted to know more about the intriguing man. “well, i aim to please. hospitality gets drilled into you as a housewife, it’s sort of all i’m good for.” you said, taking a sip of your wine, feeling like you were softly venting a little due to feeling comfortable in Negan’s company. “i’m sure your good at other things doll, better than the shitheads i normally encounter in this job.”

“well i understand that, i’ve met my husband’s clientele and they aren’t my type of people. always boasting about themselves, not caring about others, i hate it really.” you confessed, knowing you were opening up to much to a man you didn’t really know but you felt at ease, like you could speak freely, unlike when you were in your husbands company. you and Negan had finished eating, you finished the last of your wine, taking your plates to the dishwasher, bending down to place them inside, not remembering you had no panties on, fully on show for Negan and he’d definitely noticed. he’d almost done a double take, seeing your pretty pussy on display, a grin widening on his face as he understood the message. he got up, walking towards you as you raised up again, going to put the cooking utensils in the dishwasher when his large hands wrapped around your waist, you turned to look at him.

“you know doll, i think i should thank you for such a lovely evening. don’t you?” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, your chest heaving up and down with deep breaths as your heart began to beat irregularly at the closeness of such a gorgeous man. “i don’t know… what did you have in mind?” you questioned, your arms coming to meet at the top of his neck, wrapping around to pull him closer as your faces were inches away from each other. “i think it would be fair payment to screw your pretty little brains out, right over this countertop.” you moaned out at his statement, his hand coming to tug at your hair softly, before yanking harder, testing the waters. “i think, you should put your money where your mouth is, Negan.”

he growled, backing you up to the countertop that was behind your back, slightly pushing you against it. he captured your lips in a heated kiss, his hand still pulling at your hair as you whimpered into the kiss, silently begging for his hard touch. no one had ever been so rough with you, husband included. “i know how much you’ve wanted this, don’t think i didn’t notice how you aren’t wearing any panties, you were planning for this, weren’t you doll?” he whispered against your lips, his other hand now going underneath your skirt, dancing on your thighs before he got to your wet heat. “i don’t just offer dinner to anyone that comes to the house, you know.” you whimpered out, feeling his finger tips on your clit, moving small circles on top of it. “i’m hungry for dessert now doll, open those pretty thighs for me sweetheart.” he lifted you up onto the counter, your legs sat on his shoulders as you lifted your dress up enough for your whole pussy on display for Negan. his tongue met your hot skin, licking a stripe up your core, starting slow. your hand came down to meet his hair, gripping tightly around the strands that had fallen loose from his slicked back style. you moaned out, not used to the feeling of having such a skilled man between your legs, savouring every movement you felt him make. so methodical and well thought.

he sucked on your clit harshly, you squeezing his head slightly as your thighs contorted together, trying desperately to grind yourself closer to his tongue, chasing the blissfully sinful feeling that was racing through your body. “fuck-fuck! Negan, i’m not- going to last much longer if you keep doing that! fuck!” you panted and whined at the impending arrival of your orgasm, he chuckled at your confession, pulling away from you to back up. “i want to feel you doll, i want to feel you clench around my dick, turn around for me.” he purred, letting your stumbling legs fall back onto the ground as you turned to face the counter, your nipples standing erected through the thin material of the dress, contrasting against the cold marble.

he dropped his cargo pants, letting them fall down to his ankles, his impressively large piece now hanging out, you felt the bulbous tip playing around on your entrance, running up and down your folds at Negan’s movements. he finally entered you, holding a tight grip on your hips, nails slightly digging into your soft flesh, letting your pussy stretch out to accommodate his girth. he pulls out, and slides back in with little to no hesitation, finding a happy pace between rough and soft. you moan out, one hand coming to wrap around your throat as he moved his pace to more rough. “fuck doll, you fit me so well- taking me so good baby.” you whined out again. “please, please! harder! i need you, Negan- fuck!” he grinned at your begging, leaving your lips like a pretty song. he obliged, upping the ante to absolutely rock you.

“RING! RING!”

you gasped, pulling your head up from the counter to see the light illuminating from the landline phone situated near the window, your husbands name on the caller id.

“fuck, fuck! stop i need to answer him!” you tried to manoeuvre your body to grab the phone that was finger tips away from you, pushing your body closer before negan reached out over you to grab it.

“better answer it before he gets suspicious dollface.” he clicked the green button, passing it down to you, your face bright red with nervousness.

“hey-hey honey.” you breathed out, finding it hard not to make pleasurable sounds while Negan was still fucking you rough, you could barely talk with his hand still grasped around your throat. he showed no mercy.

“i just got to my hotel, did Negan manage to fix the shower?” your husband asked, you allowed a small grin to peak out on your face, thanking god your husband couldn’t see you right now. “yeah, he did a really good job, such a nice guy!” you drabbled on, hoping he wouldn’t ask many more questions, fearing you couldn’t stay quiet for much longer. “that’s great, so i’m going to try and get some sleep before the big meeting tomorrow. just wanted to let you know i got here okay. i love you.” he said, you almost dropped the phone from how rough your stomach was hitting the side of the counter, Negan relishing in the predicament you’d found yourself in. “ok-okay honey. i love you t-too.” you gasped as Negan proceeded to smack your ass hard, the sting catching you off guard, making it harder to find your words for your husband. “are you okay? you don’t sound too well?” you rolled your eyes into the back of your head, wishing he’d just fuck off so you didn’t have the anxiety of having to string sentences together. “yeah i’m fine, think i’m just a bit ill. i’ll l-let you get some sleep. love you. bye.” you quickly got out, pressing the red end call button, slinging the phone off the counter, the object hitting the ground with a smack. “you are such a bastard.” you slightly laughed with another moan. “didn’t want him worrying about his dear wife now did we doll? thank you for the five star review though, i appreciate it.”

the wet sounds still echoed around the room, you could feel yourself getting ever so closer to what you knew would be a world shattering climax. “fuck, i’m so so close, please! fuck!” Negan held you firmer in place, his hips snapping against your behind, his dick filling you up to the brim. “let go doll, come all over my dick.” that was all the permission you needed, you let yourself climax, sobbing in pleasure, waves of pleasure rippling through you, nearly too intense for your body to handle it. you cried out his name, your fingernails digging into your own palms as you circled your hips, riding out your orgasm.

Negan wasn’t too far behind, he couldn’t help but spill inside you, quickly pulling out to finish the rest on your now red glistening ass, from the countless spankings he’d given you. you both almost collapsed, breathless, unable to get your heart rates back to normal for the time being. Negan held you to his chest, your back meeting his torso in a warm embrace, chests heaving. you felt the sticky ropes of his seed on your dress, making it stick to your ass as you licked your lips to regain some moisture back as they’d gone dry from all your moaning and whining. his hands ran up and down your body, coming to play with your breasts over the material.

“fuck doll, do you have any more repairs for me to do? because i would gladly fix every goddamn thing in this house for this again.” you laughed, turning around to look at him, face beat red from the strenuous actions you’d both participated in. you reached behind him and pulled open one of the cabinets behind his head, the wood snapping with the force, taking it off its hinges so it hung off.

“whoops. you might need to take a look at that.”

[beomiracles]

OMGOSHH hiii Serene my goddess

i would like to build a dreammmmm (hello you are so adorable)

so i have an idea

its a historical (or modern if youd prefer) fantasy au (w any member u deem suitable)

where reader is a fox spirit who fell in love w member who rescued her while she got injured and trapped in her animal form

member and reader spend some domestic time tgt and eventually reader recovers and reveals her true form and is worried member would be afraid of her

initially he is but things happen and he ends up falling for her too?? and they get tgt !!

(i like things steamy)

thank you for taking the time to read this :))

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... omg ily like ;( when I first read this I IMMEDIATELY thought, yeonjun. (maybe it has to do with the reader being a fox idk. but it feels right to have this fic about him) I'm also super into this whole idea but I've never written for a supernatural reader before so idk how good it is on that front heh..! hope you'll still enjoy :3

wc -> 1.8k

pairings yeonjun x fox spirit!reader (afab) warnings very slight dom/sub dynamics, sub!yeonjun, soft!dom reader, handjob/blowjob, hints at further sexual themes.

It had been, three? Maybe four weeks? You could hardly keep track of time as the room you had been staying in lacked any sort of time teller, and it wasn’t exactly like your rescuer was about to sit down and inform a fox of the time. You couldn’t blame him, he had already done so much for you, from taking you in and providing both shelter and food — it was more than you could have ever asked for. 

You had grown accustomed to the company of the human man, strangely enough. Foxes were known to be distrustful of said species yet you found yourself feeling warm and fuzzy inside whenever he was around, which was almost all the time as he returned to check up on you multiple times throughout the day. 

But by now, your body had recovered enough for you to finally be able to comfortably shift back into a more presentable form. Your only worry was the human’s reaction, you scolded yourself for taking his feelings into such great consideration, it wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Yet you worried that he might be scared — dreaded that he might not like you at all in your human form. 

The cool air causes goosebumps to rise across your now naked skin, having adapted to the feel of fur after spending so long in your other form that the now mildly cold degree outside felt freezing. You stretch your fingers out in front of you, studying them as if it were your first time seeing them. A small sigh of relief escapes your lips, finally you felt more like yourself again. 

The sound of the door squeaking open causes your head to snap in its direction as the human stumbles inside. His hands are full of cut up fruits and a few pieces of raw meat, but as soon as his gaze falls on you the plate crashes against the floor and you flinch at the sound. 

Yeonjun’s mouth hangs open as he studies you with a slightly horrified expression. You could smell the fear dripping from him as his eyes darted across the room in search of your fox form, but all he found was you. Slowly rising from your crouched position, you offer the man a small smile. 

“Hi.” 

You internally cringe at how strained your voice sounded, but after not being used for almost a month it wasn’t so surprising. Yeonjun doesn’t reply as he stares at you dumbfoundedly. “...Who are you?” He finally splutters as he takes a defensive step back, your heart churns at the small action. 

“It’s me…Red”, you try as you use the nickname he had given you a few weeks prior. Yeonjun’s eyes might as well just pop out of his eye sockets as he stares at you in disbelief. “Red?” He repeats, though his stance remains wary. Eagerly you nod as you take a step forward.

“But…it doesn’t make sense I…” He stammers as his hands come up to block you from his view. “And you’re…you’re naked!” His statement causes you to stop as you frown whilst glancing down to your bare body. So? Why did that matter? It was natural when shifting forms — besides, did he really not have greater things to worry about than your naked frame? 

You surge forward once more only to be stopped by a pair of large hands against your shoulders as Yeonjun prevents you from coming any closer. “Why don’t you sit down over here”, he redirects you toward the bed in the center of the room as he hastily pulls the duvet cover over your exposed body. 

Huffing out a breath of air, you glance up at your savior as he fusses over you, much like he always did. And as your eyes roam his body; you wanted nothing more than to repay the kind favor. 

Hesitantly, Yeonjun takes a seat beside you on the very edge of the bed, much to your delight. He runs a hand through his dark hair as he studies you with a slight frown. “I don’t understand…you…you’re..” — “A human?” You interrupt as the corner of your lips curl into a small grin. “Yeah.” He breathes out a small sigh. 

In your human form, he seemed even more delectable and your gaze followed the way his teeth closed around his bottom lip as he bit it anxiously. “I’m a fox spirit.” You state as you watch his reaction. His frown deepens as he looks at you, noticing the swirling pools of orange in your eyes and your sharp canines as you grin. He supposed he should feel afraid, but he didn’t, for he could still recognize the wounded animal he had taken in all those nights ago. 

You tilt your head to the side as you listen to the now, steady, beating of his heart as the human came to terms with the creature before him. “But why didn’t you reveal yourself earlier..?” He wonders and you let out a small sigh. “Well it was impossible to, given the state my body was in”, you shrug before glancing toward him with a small smirk, “but thanks to your helpful hands and kind words I am now completely recovered.” 

Yeonjun’s eyes widen as color rushes to his face. “Kind words…you mean you..” — “Even in my fox form I understand the human language.” You say as you watch the increasingly flustered state of the human who averted his gaze, suddenly recalling the multiple comments about the fox he had made. 

“Do you really think I’m cute?” You ask as you lean forward on the bed. Yeonjun swallows as his eyes return to you, “I uh…” he begins but trails off as you close the small distance between you, trapping him against the bedpost. The duvet falls from your shoulders and his eyes dart between your exposed skin and your face. 

“I think you’re cute.” You purr as your nose graces along his cheek. The rapid beating of his heart felt like music to your ears. Under you, Yeonjun squirms as he tries to free himself from your grip, you let him go as you watch him with a slight pout. He scrambles across the bed to lean against the headboard, slightly panting as he looks at you. 

“Are you scared of me?” you ask with a small frown, a sense of hurt lingering in your words. He shakes his head, “n-no…I just..I don’t know if it’s such a good idea to…” He sharply inhales as you suddenly appear mere inches from his face, gently straddling his lap as your fingers brush along his flushed cheek. “But you’re not scared of me?” Your question comes off as more of a statement but Yeonjun gives you a small shake of his head. You smile, “good.” 

Your lips find his as your hands gently cup his cheeks. Half expecting him to pull away, you’re surprised when his arms wrap around your naked waist to pull you closer. “I’ll make you feel good, yeah?” you whisper against his lips as your hands grip onto the fabric off his shirt. Yeonjun gazes up at you with a clouded expression, uttering a small “uh-huh”.

Your sharp nails dig into the soft cotton as you rip it apart, exposing his lean torso for your hungry eyes to ravage. If he’s surprised by your quick actions, he doesn’t let onto it as his eyes rake over your naked body. The hands on your waist slowly move across your stomach before gently cupping your breasts, his thumbs grazing over your nipples. You let out a small moan as shivers course through your body. 

The roll of your hips against his makes his breath hitch and you lean down to press open mouthed kisses along his neck and collarbone. “You saved me”, you murmur against his skin, feeling the way blood rushed beneath the surface. Sharp teeth drag across the sensitive flesh of his neck as you inhale his sweet scent. 

“Not many people would take in a fox like myself.” The tantalizingly slow movements of your hips causes him to buck up against your wet cunt, drawing a small hiss from you as you grind down on him even harder. Your lips hover over his own once more as you gaze at him in a loving manner. Yeonjun looks at you with a hazy expression as his lips part so deliciously and invitingly, soft pants emitting from him. 

“I am forever grateful.” You whisper before leaning back to rip the seam of his pants apart. Your mouth almost waters at the sight of his throbbing cock, hard and ready for you. Yeonjun lets out a small gasp as you wrap your fingers around him, marveling at how heavy he felt in your hand. “So pretty and good for me”, you coo as you take your time to get a full feel of him, drawing a soft groan from the human. 

You experiment with the pace of your hand, the flick of your wrist, closely watching his reactions as Yeonjun fell apart under your touch. His fingers digging into the soft sheets of the bed, knuckles turning white at the sheer pressure. Unable to resist you lean down to get a small taste of him, relishing in the throaty moan you manage to coax from him. 

Tongue pressed flat against his cock, you slowly work your way down before licking a stripe all the way up to the red tip again. “Ah, fuck.” He groans as you suck all of him in your mouth, swirling your tongue against his slit. His hips snap up against you, his cock hitting the back of your throat and you almost gag. Your hands brush along his thighs as you moan softly around him, silently praising him before pulling off with a small pop. 

“What do you need from me, pretty?” You whisper as your hand returns to gently stroke him. Sweat sticks to his forehead as he lays panting, he swallows, “a-anything, fuck…just need you!” His words make you clench around nothing as your lips eagerly return to his cock, feeling it twitch against your lips. 

The soft whines falling from his plump lips were enough to have you take him as deep as you possibly could, pressing your tongue against him with so much pressure that it almost hurt. “Fuck, I’m c-close” he groans and one of your hands join your mouth on his cock as you encourage his orgasm. 

With one final twitch, he releases himself inside of your open mouth. The feeling of hot cum spurting on your tongue had you moaning against his slowly softening cock as you pulled away to wipe your lips. Above you, Yeonjun brings a hand to his forehead as his ragged breathing slowly returns to normal, but the beating of his heart remained rapid as you study his flushed expression. 

His eyes snap toward you as he feels you move on top of him. Teasingly pushing two fingers inside your dripping cunt for him to see. “Think you can do one more, pretty?”

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[the-froschamethyst4]

The King Has Returned

𖤐Pairing: King! König x Queen! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Smut, body worshiping, P in V, kissing, making out, language, fantasy, return from war, badly translated German, mentions of blood and violence

Storytelling while also making love? Why not?

AN: Yes, King König in case you don’t know German König translates to King, so yeah…King King, but Y/n will call him King anyway, therefore König is hardly mentioned

König had came back from a 4 year war and all he wants to do is be with his wife Queen Y/n, who has been taking care of the kingdom before he came home

König was flabbergasted when he saw the changes of the Kingdom and loved seeing his wife come out of her comfort zone

And now he finally gets to be with her for the rest of his life with no problems

——————

———————

The Kingdom was quiet, and it was bright outside, the Kingdom's Queen took care of them for the 4 years her husband the King was gone at War.

The Kingdom was beautiful, King was new to when it came to learning about his Kingdom, his father barely gave him anything to learn from.

Since König was only 6 when he was crowned King and his father died. So, it was hard for König and when he met Y/n it became even more of a struggle because now he had a wife and her needs to worry about.

But Y/n can take care of herself, she is the daughter of a General and was taught how to defend herself and protect herself as well. And once König left for war, she took care of everything, something King would be very proud of.

"Queen Y/n, the baker has made some more bread and sweets for you and your husband," the Squire for King came around the corner of the Throne room to Y/n going through different fabrics for her new dress.

"Yes, no, no, no, maybe, oh Sean, yes thank you, you can give it to the housemaids, and they'll place them out for us." She smiles.

"Of course, you heard her."

"That one, it's prefect," she smiles and got off her Throne, she thought about walking around town, she patted off the dirt on her dress and walked through the gate.

König had left 2 knights with his love Roach and Horangi. She left the castle and headed into town, where she was immediately greeted by villagers. They gave her things and asked her when their King is coming back? Of course, she doesn't know...she just hopes soon.

She walked through the town with her usual sweet smile and heard some chatting from villagers, she turned and saw them running to the edge of the village.

"Your highness, whatever it is it's not safe," Roach said.

"It's okay, Roach, let's...just go look..."

"Fine but King is going to have my head."

"No, he won't," she smiles as they were able to get the front and saw dust being flung up in the distance, Roach and Horangi stood in front of her as they looked at the distance and saw a black horse and an Army behind the horse and man on the horse, the clothing looked familiar.

"He's back," Y/n and Roach said at the same time.

"THE KING HAS RETURNED!!" Roach yelled, getting the attention of the guy who's supposed to blow the horn to alert the Kingdom.

"King," Y/n mumbled. The horse stopped before getting to the villages edge.

"I'm home..." King smiled as the villagers cheered.

The villagers ran to the Army and King cheering for them. King looked around for his wife, he saw Roach and Horangi standing in front of a Black Smith and saw his small wife standing between them.

He moved his horse to them and saw his wife's happy face. He stopped the horse and helped her get on the back of him.

"Head back to the castle, I have things I need to discuss with everyone."

"Yes sir," Roach said.

King moved the horse and headed to the stables; Y/n looked up at him and kissed the back of his neck.

"I've missed you," she mumbled.

"I've missed you too," he said, grabbing her hand and bring the back of it to his mouth.

"Can you...tell me about your journey?" She asked him.

"I'll tell you once we're at the castle," he said as he stopped his horse, and he got off first and helped Y/n off next. He took his horse to its normal spot and gave him hay and water.

"Come on, honig (honey)." He said, grabbing her hand and taking her inside the castle. He opened the door for her and picked her up bridal style, spinning around and Y/n laughing as it was amazing to have her husband back home.

"Good evening, King," The maids and butlers yelled.

"Good evening," he said back. He looked down at her and smiled at her before kissing her soft lips and taking her upstairs to their shared bedroom.

He placed her on the big King-sized bed and placed his hands on both sides of her as she sat on the bed.

"Nun...was soll ich zuerst mit dir machen? (Now...what should I do with your first), since I'm back?" He asks, she just giggled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Make love to me as you tell me about your adventures."

"Done deal to me," he smirks. He gets on his knees and pushes the bottom of her dress up exposing her smooth knees. He grabbed her panties and pulled them off her. He got back up to her face and kissed her lips again.

His hands went around her back and unbuttoned her dress and pulled it off her slowly. He exposed her full naked body; he licked his bottom lip and kissed her again.

"Holy fuck, I've missed you; I've missed your weich (soft) body, your looks, your persönlichkeit (personality), I've just missed you so, so, much," he smirks before kissing her lips again.

"I think *smooch* you've missed *smooch* me more than I *smooch* missed you," she smirks in between kisses.

"Ist das offensichtlich? (is that obvious)" he said.

He started to move down her lips to her to her chest. Her hands ran through his soft hair and slightly moaned. His hands went up her side and back down to squeeze her ass.

"Gott, ich will dich nie wieder verlassen (God, I don't want to leave you ever again)." He said, while looking up at Y/n. She just giggles and cupped his face.

He got back up on his feet and started to remove his gear, she watched him remove everything and smiled when she saw how much his body became toned over the 4 years he was gone.

"Like what you see honig?"

"Yes sir," she smiles at him. He removed everything, he was naked and on full display for Y/n. He bent back down on his knees; he pushed her legs open having her clit on display for him.

"Heilige Scheiße (holy shit) now I've definitely missed this," he smirks before leaning forward and licking her up between her folds and earning a moan from her.

"Ahh! K-King," she moans grabbing a handful of his hair. His hands roamed all over her body. Squeezing her hips, butt and a bit of her back.

She let out a soft moan and looked down at him, his face berried in her clit. He licked up and down and pushed his tongue, she squeezed around his tongue.

"AH!" He moans, he pulls his tongue out and barely touched his tongue making sure 'it was still there'.

"Jeez honig."

"Tut mir leid (sorry)," she apologizes.

"Tue nicht (don't) that was fucking hot," he said crawling on top of her and started to kiss her lips again.

"Now...my adventure."

"I-I almost forgot," she giggles at him forgetting she had asked about his adventure.

He aligned himself at her entrance and pushed himself inside of her. She gripped the bedsheets under her, but King wanted her to hold onto him instead.

"After I left the...we camped in the forest..." he watched her head go back as she was enjoying the pleasure. "We camped there for probably six weeks...then...we left and...went to the Ghost Kingdom...King Ghost who is a loner by the way..." King laughed and Y/n just giggled at him.

"That's a little mean."

"But it's true...no wife...no one...he's alone...but likes it that way...we stayed in the Kingdom for a year trying....trying..." he couldn't think Y/n's moans were driving him insane, he loved hearing those moans.

"Jeez it's hard to focus with you moaning."

"S-Sorry..." He just shakes his head.

"Don't apologize to me honig...when you moan it's hot, sexy and I've wanted this for a long time..."

"D-Did you think a-about me w-when you were g-gone?"

"Of course, I did," he rested his forehead on hers as he started to move fast and then heard a breathy moan from her.

"Ahhh~ Oh m-my-AHH!" She moans. She gripped his bicep almost for dear life.

"It's been a w-while...I'm a-a little rusty...am I...doing okay?"

"Y-Yes," she moans.

"But anyways...we s-stayed at Ghost K-Kingdom we fought up t-to maybe...f-forty different creatures...ogres, cyclops, t-trolls..." he rested his forehead on hers again. "W-We then moved onto a-a Kingdom in the W-West and stayed there for a few m-months before finally...getting...to...battle-ahhh~!" Both King and Y/n moaned at the same time and came on each other.

König and Y/n fell on the bed and looked at each other laughing it was a while since they've made love to each other.

"I'll have the maids start a bath for us and...we can finish up in there." He smirks.

----------

König pounded more into Y/n's pussy, he was telling her about when he first went to the Lake of Secrets and loved how it shined under the moonlight and sunlight.

"I-It reminded me s-so much of y-your eyes sparkled within the moonlight a-and sunlight."

"Ahhh! m-mein König (My King)." She moans, the water splashed around them, and some escaped onto the title flooring.

"W-What did y-you tell it?" She asks, while looking over her shoulder and stared at him.

"I didn't tell it anything...I-I'm not telling a-a lake some secret t-that's mine and y-your business."

"O-Ours?"

"Yes...because w-what's mine is yours," he kissed her neck, she felt herself about to cum again.

----------

König and Y/n laid on their King-sized bed and she snuggled up to his side, she ran her fingers through his chest hair and looked up to him, his eyes were closed sure, but she knew he was still awake.

"King?"

"Ja meine Königin? (Yes, my Queen)?"

"Have you ever thought about having...ein baby (a baby)?"

"A baby?" His eyes slowly opened.

"Yeah...I'm just asking...I'm not trying to imply anything..."

"I mean...I've thought about it while I was gone but never...thought about it in a while..." he said, looking at her.

"Just think about it...a baby...a little us running around the castle, I just like it...I've thought about before you came home...I just didn't know when you'd come home so we could talk about it..." She sat up and looked at him.

"Well, I'm here now...so...we can try if that's what you want."

"I'm only bring it up to mainly think when you're gone...I won't be lonely, I'll have mini us run around the castle."

"Ich verstehe es, meine Königin (I get it my queen). I mean, I am completely okay with it..."

"Good," she got on top of King and started to kiss his lips and he smirked into the kiss, hands roaming her body once more.

"Oh meine Königin, du bist die einzige Person für mich (Oh my queen, you're the only person for me)."

"Ich bin froh, mein König (I'm glad my King)."