#propositions are the enemy

[jeonsweetpea]

Am I writing a fic about this JK? Absolutely. Is it twisted and full of smut? Yes. Am I excited? YES.

[quesocane]

Yes I fuckin do.

[fangswbenefits]

Ao3

ASTARION

⤷ The Arrangement (on-going series): masterlist

⤷ Book - Astarion comes across an interesting book and decides to share the knowledge with you. Quite literally.

⤷ Lockpicking - You ask Astarion to teach you how to lockpick and things get... out of hand.

⤷ Pointy Ears - You accidentally find just how sensitive Astarion is when it comes to a certain part of his body…

⤷ Curiosity - Astarion wishes to satisfy his curiosity when it comes to breastfeeding... and comes up with a proposition that is mutually beneficial.

⤷ Oral Fixation - Astarion is quite sure you are going to drive him insane from how adorable and clueless you are when eating those juicy fruits around him... and he just has to do something about it.

⤷ Unexpected - Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.

⤷ Breathe - Astarion is more than eager to show you the perks of not breathing.

⤷ Questions - Your curiosity drives you to ask Astarion a very unexpected question, and he's more than happy to give you a proper reply.

⤷ Patience - You are too eager to ride Astarion, and he proposes a solution to your impatience. After all, experience is the best teacher and impatience its fiercest enemy.

⤷ Backfire - You should have known better than to make Astarion jealous, and now you are left to deal with the consequences.

⤷ Reading Session - Astarion walks in on you reading a rather suggestive book, and far be it from him to interrupt your learning process. 

⤷Trance - Astarion is having a hard time trancing, and you offer to help him out in more ways than one.

⤷ Fever - You're running a fever, and Astarion offers to cool you down… only to make things a whole lot worse.

⤷ Everything - You're used to staying still whenever Astarion feeds on you. This time, he wants you to feel everything.

⤷ Comfortable - Astarion walks in on you in a rather compromising situation. Naturally, he offers to help, but then you ask him to promise you something that he was not expecting…

(LINKS ARE CURRENTLY NOT WORKING - I'LL FIX THEM SOON 🙏)

MIGUEL O'HARA

✫ 18+:

⤷ Tension - Miguel walks in on you late at night doing something unexpected, which makes things really awkward afterwards…

⤷ For Science - There has been a rumour circulating in regards to Miguel’s venom. It has to be too far-fetched, right?

⤷ Intimacy - Lack of intimacy after childbirth can weigh a relationship down. Thankfully, Miguel always finds new ways to keep the spark alive.

⤷ Perfect Morning - Miguel’s definition of a perfect morning involves a comfortable bed and being buried deep inside you.

⤷ Comfort - Miguel has been having nightmares as of late and seeks a level of comfort only you can provide.

⤷ Breakfast in Bed - Miguel wakes you up to breakfast in bed.

⤷ Stress Relief - Peter B. Parker should know better than to swing by unannounced.

⤷ Sharing is Caring (I) - (II) - A mission has both Miguel and you sharing a room… what could possibly go wrong?

⤷ [COMPLETE] (0) Sweet Girl , (1) Frustration , (2) Suit Up , (3) Obsession , (4) Consequences , (5) Discovery , (6) Double-edged Sword , (7) Confession , (8) Devotion - Miguel’s desire for you has been taking a toll on him, and he really has no other option…

⤷ Second Intentions - You’ve been tense lately, and Miguel offers a massage. Quite thoughtful of him… except you know exactly why.

⤷ Tracking - You find out Miguel has been tracking something that concerns you… and him.

⤷ Gentle - Miguel shows you how gentle he can be during your pregnancy and how worthy you are of it.

⤷ Backfire - The math is simple: you make Miguel jealous + push him past his breaking point = hot rough sex. Too bad Miguel doesn’t do simple.

⤷ Side Effect - Miguel has been acting off lately and you find out why… the hard way.

⤷ Stubborn - As far as you’re concerned, you just want to stay in bed all day, admiring Miguel’s glorious chest.

✫ Fluff/Comedy/Comfort/Hurt/Angst/Misc:

⤷ Memories - You are ready to tell Miguel he is going to be a father… but he isn’t.

⤷ Revelations - Miguel asks you to keep a secret, so naturally everyone is about to find out.

⤷ Solution - Period cramps always leave you feeling miserable, so Miguel offers a solution.

⤷ Tiny Spider - Your daughter has a few questions, and you suspect Miguel might just open a portal to another dimension.

⤷ Another Chance - You go into labour and all you know is that you need Miguel more than ever.

⤷ Broken - You wonder if Miguel is broken beyond repair, because he surely believes that.

⤷ Family - Miguel is a natural when it comes to being a father.

⤷ A Series of Firsts - You and Miguel are ready to become parents and you must now go through a series of firsts together.

⤷ Appreciation - Miguel catches you staring at a very specific part of his body…

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion Jealousy Part 2

The graphic extension to this but a lil less serious and definitely not sfw.

CW: Jealous spawn astarion who is still a sweetheart, but the drow twins get under his skin. graphic sex scenes, oral, relatively tame honestly. The sex part will be under the cut btw which is m/f. Also vampire man drinks blood. mentionable incorrect language for sex workers

~

It was odd, being home in Baldur’s Gate without the threat of Cazador always looming. Odd, but equally as wonderful. It had been so thoughtful, if not a little idiotic for Cazador to end up being your first stop in the city. The fight itself had been a blur, a barrage of intense emotions and bloody violence. Astarion had come so close to losing himself back there, losing everything that made him better than the man who almost ruined him. But then… you stopped him. You saw something more in him, a chance for a better life. A more meaningful life, away from the shackles of vampiric power obsessions. 

He was officially free. Now he could exist without any fear of his disgusting master’s retribution. He could just… be. Well… not including his darling’s own myriad of enemies that seemed to follow them about everywhere. And there was still the matter of defeating the elder brain, and lord knows if any of you made it through that alive. But at least his personal demons were slain and out of the picture.

Every little step counted after all. Perhaps some of your delusional hopefulness had finally started to rub off on him, but Astarion was actually starting to look forward to his future. Your future, together. All he had to do was get through a few more perilous adventures and then he’d really have you all to himself. 

All that said, Astarion could really go without the frequent visits to the local brothel. Was it the best place in the city for gathering information? Yes. It seemed that every walk of life in Baldur’s Gate found their way into Shar’s Caress and if you were going to find alternative passage to the underworld, this would be the best place to find it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. For one there were the unwelcome advances to his own person, the concept of grace and personal space apparently left at the door. He was so very close to breaking the hand of the next person who thought it was appropriate to grab his ass. And if they could afford to get kicked out he would have by now. Your verbal, angry tirades in his defense could only scare off so many. 

But as terrible as his own discomfort was, it was nothing in the face of how often you were being fawned over. What was it about you that seemed to drive everyone mad? Yes you were objectively attractive, but this was frankly getting out of hand. First there was the green skinned druid doing something sensual to your mind, then there were the general stares and whispers as you walked by, and now a pair of gorgeous drow twins trying and failing to proposition you. 

It was getting tiresome. There were only so many times a man could take his lover being offered “free” services before he snapped. 

On one hand, he could respect the dedication they had to the craft. He could be considered something of a hired whore himself in his time, the old, “the first one’s free” was a tried and true trick. And he also knew, vaguely, that no one was actually trying to steal you from him. But on the other, he couldn’t help the fact that he wanted to claw their eyes out for looking at you so brazenly.

He hadn’t expected the eyes of the woman to wander over to him, like she was just noticing the possessive arm he had wrapped around your waist, “Is that your partner with you? How would you both feel about having a little fun?”

Absolutely fucking not. Maybe the old Astarion would have smiled and nodded, ready to do whatever was asked of him. But the man from that wretched era had died, or at the very least was dying. And he would be damned if he let you lay with another, never less participate in it. 

Astarion interrupted your overly-polite attempts stuttering of a refusal. He glared at them both, a sneer painted on his face, “We’ll be passing on that. You’d think the first no would have sufficed, but I suppose it’s not fair to expect everyone to have basic language comprehension. Now as illuminating as this conversation has been, we have places to be. Excuse us.”

Then he was pulling you away, happy to ignore the offended huffs of indignation he had left in his wake. 

“We’re supposed to be investigating, remember?” You said with a giggle, not even questioning him as he dragged you to the second floor, “Being rude is not the way we’ll find travel to the hells.”

“I highly doubt they would have been of use,” Astarion said as he pushed you into the first empty room he could find. He felt off, maybe even a little crazed as he turned to you, “Tell me darling, what is it about you that makes you so irresistible, hm?”

He crowded you against the closed door, ducking his head into the crook of your neck to breath you in. You smelled heavenly, you always did. He could trace the barest whiff of your blood from beneath your skin, always calling to him. You were the sweetest thing he ever tasted. Delicious even, for more reasons than one. 

“T-They just wanted my coin,” You gasped when he started to suck bruises into your skin, “That’s all.”

“I think they wanted a bit more than that,” Astarion bit out as he shoved his thigh between your legs, “What will it take for others to realize you’re mine.”

His hands were wandering, resting low to grip your hips. He was using them to move you, forcing you to grind against his thigh. You grasped at his shoulders, trying to bite back a moan as you stared at him with wide eyes, “You want to do it here? Does that door even lock?”

It looked like it didn’t, not that Astarion cared. Maybe walking in on him ravishing you would finally start getting the point across of who you belonged to. Astarion shrugged, "There are less appropriate venues than literal whore houses."

“But-”

“But I can tell you want it,” Astarion interrupted with a smirk, his hands barely working to move your body anymore. But that wasn’t stopping you from rubbing yourself all over him, “Just look at you darling. Desperate little thing. But if you really don’t want to…”

Astarion made a lazy attempt to step back, laughing out loud when your desperately pulled him back, your desire finally winning out over your common sense. But you were glaring at him, obviously annoyed that he was so good at riling you up. He had seen that look before, the one that just screamed that you were scheming something. 

He just hadn’t expected you to drop to your knees in front of him, huffing as you started to undo the fastenings to his pants, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit of a shit?”

“Maybe,” Astarion said with a strained laugh, his breath catching when you pulled his half-hard cock out, “But it seems to keep getting me the things I want.”

You rolled your eyes before licking a wide strip up his cock, like you weren’t directly proving his point. You looked amazing own there, you’re half-hearted glare morphing into a blissful haze. 

Gods, how were you real? Astarion wasn’t quite sure why you were such a fan of getting him down your throat, but he knew that he was a lucky bastard for it. 

“Sweet girl,” Astarion sighed, letting a hand drift down to tangle in your hair, “Sweet girl with a perfect mouth. And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

You made a small, affirmative noise around his cock, taking him in deeper as you clutched at his thighs. You were so good at this, so well-trained after months of being together. He loved the soft, wet sounds that would escape your lips as you swallowed him down, the pretty way your eyes would water as you encouraged him to fuck your throat, how you would squirm in place on your knees, no doubt ruining your panties with how wet you were getting. 

And no one else would ever know. No one would get to see you like this again, feel you like this. Needy, desperate, and his. Oddly enough, that thought was what sent him over the edge. He came down your throat, groaning as you eagerly swallowed around him. 

You pulled off of him slowly, panting while you smiled up at him. There was the smallest string of spit mixed with his come, connecting from the head of his cock to your lips. You licked it up, still clinging to his thighs as you hazily stared up at him. Sweet enough to make his heart skip a beat, and his dick give a valiant twitch.

He pulled you to your feet, not wasting any time in smashing your lips together. He spun you around, pushing you towards what he prayed was a clean bed. 

He pushed you back onto the sheets, making quick work of tearing your pants down your legs as he grinned down at you, “Your turn.”

He kneeled in front of you; spreading his hands over your splayed thighs to peel off your underwear. The core of you was already glistening, slick enough to make Astarion’s mouth water. He licked his lips as he spread your legs further apart, shameless as he feasted on you with his eyes. 

You were shaking in his hold, biting your bottom lip when you whined, “Stop staring already…”

“But you’re so pretty here my sweet,” Astarion cooed, tracing a single finger over the seam of your cunt, “And you’re dripping. Poor thing, have I kept you waiting too long?”

You nodded excitedly above him, your hips bucking when he let his fingers dip in further between your pussy lips. He lightly traced your clit, softly laughing at the way the simple touch made you whine.

It was his own fault that you were so needy, a fact that brought a smirk to his lips. You always got so wet after you had him down your throat, soaked and gorgeous. 

Astarion dove right in, loudly moaning as he licked into your folds. He dragged his lips upward to suckle on your clit, basking in all the cries and whimpers escaping you.

He licked back down, teasing your hole with his tongue as your legs quivered around his head. He let the sharpness of his fangs scrape against you as he started to fuck you with his tongue, threatening your most intimate places.

He knew you liked that; little minx that you were. The slight risk of pain that was always looming. It made him want to sink his fangs in you for real, a hunger that he'd sate after he had you gushing into his mouth.

You were already close, he could tell from the way your cunt was tightening around his tongue; too worked up from the thrill of being in public and the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Astarion trailed talented fingers up to rub against your clit, his tongue still curling inside of you as you cried out. Finally falling over the edge. But that wasn't stopping him from continuing to play with you.

You had to tug on Astarion’s hair for him to finally pull away, too over sensitive to handle his talented tongue. You were still trembling by the time he leaned back, licking his lips. He rested his head on your thigh, obviously pleased with himself as he grinned up at you. He could feel your heart racing against his cheek, the sound of your blood pumping singing through your veins. It had his mouth watering for a completely different reason. 

He let his fangs drag against the delicate skin of your inner thigh, looking up at you through his lashes, "Can I?"

A superfluous question. Not when he already knew the answer before it escaped your lips.

“Y-yeah," You mumbled, lovingly gazing down at him. He would never tire of seeing that look on your face, "But be gentle? Please?” 

"Of course my love," Astarion murmured, before promptly sinking his fangs into your flesh. He had to hold you down from the way you were still trembling, your quivering only getting worse at the pleasure mixed with pain. He didn’t let himself go rabid, just enough to get a taste. He was pulling back too soon, smiling to himself at the little whine you let out. He gently licked over the wound before standing, not yet swallowing the last drops on his tongue.

Instead he leaned forward to kiss you, more than happy to share the sweet taste of your blood as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

“Thank you my dear,” Astarion sighed as he pulled away, “That was exactly what I needed. Now I think that’s enough investigating for one day.” 

You sighed, taking the time to card your fingers through his hair, “Agreed. Though you might have to carry me out of here now.”

Wasn’t that a wonderful idea?

Astarion hummed as he pulled your clothing back on, “I think I like the sound of that," He didn't give you time to respond, too busy sweeping you up in his arms with a grin, "I'll be taking you up on that."

You squeaked when he hefted you up, bridal style, “I wasn’t being serious!”

But it was too late, Astarion was already kicking the door open. He shrugged at you, completely shameless as he winked at a few onlookers, "Then you shouldn't have suggested it."

You groaned, hiding your face in his shirt as he happily took you outside, “I’m going to get you back for this. I hope you know that.”

Astarion laughed as he kissed the top of your head, “I’m sure you will.”

It was a childish stunt, borderline on par with a jealous tantrum, but gods, did it feel good. Good enough to sate Astarion's obsessive tendencies for an impressive amount of time. Under normal circumstances. 

But what about your lives were normal?

[sturnsdarling]

an unlikely friendship

{insp by @sturnioz au} fratboy!chris needs a girls help with a deal, and the only girl he knows he can trust, is fratboy!matts.

vibe check: suggestive between reader and matt at the start, drug dealing, doing drugs (coke and weed), drinking, bad vibes from the other frat boys, reader and chris being enemies to best friends damon and bonnie style

4.7k words (I yapped a bit on this oops)

A/N: this is kind of a follow up to the 'what the fuck is wrong with you' fic but also not really? idk bro its the duo we didn't know we needed. also the song I chose for this is one of the best songs to come out of the shit hole country I call home so give it a listen and i'm also fully aware that an american frat would never play this song but its my story so, kick rocks.

love and cigs, merc

You were hovering over Matt, kissing him through your whimpers as he matched your pace, fucking up into you as you bounced on his cock relentlessly.

Your daily dose of Matt was quickly interrupted by Chris, charging in the room with a spliff hanging from his lips.

"Yo, y/n, I need t'ask you somethin" Chris was completely un-phased by the sight of you on top of Matt, luckily covered by his duvet.

"Chris, what the fuck are you doin, dickhead" Matt said in a huff as you quickly clambered off him and onto to the bed, covering yourself in shock.

"kid, show me somthin' I ain't seen before and I'll start throwing racks over y'both" Chris raised his brows in his brothers direction before turning his attention to you, "y/n I need to talk to ya"

Matt rolled his eyes, pulling the duvet to bunch up over his still hard cock. You pulled the duvet up to cover yourself completely, looking at Chris in complete bafflement.

"can it wait? i'm kinda busy right now, Chris" you shifted where you sat, glancing down at the messy bed and back to Chris.

"nah, it can't" Chris replied, taking a long toke of his joint and dead panning

"you're fuckin' unbelievable" Matt huffed, draping his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into him slightly "what do you want, kid"

"I need to take you on a deal i'm doin' tonight" Chris said.

"what?" you and Matt asked in unison, brows furrowed as Chris' face remained unchanged.

"what? am I fuckin' speaking Japanese or somethin'?" Chris' face scrunched up in annoyance, "I need ya for a deal"

"why me?" you ask, just as baffled as Matt beside you

"cause you're a girl" Chris shrugged, still toking on his joint.

"Chris, there is no way in ever loving fuck you're taking my girl to a fuckin' drug deal" Matt shook his head, annoyance thick in his voice.

Your heart swelled at the pet name, "your girl?" you craned your neck over to look at him, eyes flitting between his.

"yeah, my girl" Matt nodded with a smirk, edging his lips closer to yours as he repeated his words.

You locked your lips over his, your hand instantly coming to his jaw, pulling him into you with a giggle, he returned the kiss, tracing small circles on your shoulder with his soft finger tips.

"okay, if you two are gonna do this shit infront'a me can you pass me that cup cause i'm gonna fuckin' throw up" Chris said, retching at the sight of you and Matt all loved up.

"you came into my room, kid" Matt broke your kiss, pointing his attentions back to Chris as you chuckled

"anyway, s'not happening, find someone else" Matt shrugged stubbornly.

Chris groaned, rolling his eyes, "why, dude, y'being fuckin' annoying"

"why do you need a girl for the deal, anyway?" you asked, curious.

Chris toked his joint, "cause" he blew out the cloud of smoke in his mouth, "the house I'm goin' to is full of little bitches that've never felt the touch of a woman in their lives, you'll be like... bait"

"absolutely fuckin' not" Matt butted in, his voice stern.

"how bad could it really be?" you looked to Matt, somewhat intrigued by Chris' proposition and Chris' ears perked up at your curiosity

"are you stupid?" Matt looked at you instantly, brows furrowed, "angel, I am not lettin' you go to a frat house full of kids that wanna roofie you and fuck you on the campus green, nah, absolutely not" Matts grip tightened around you.

"first of all, i'm not fuckin' stupid, i'm smarter than you so, watch your mouth" you said, tone stern as Chris let out a little 'oh shit' from the end of the bed, "and second of all, i'm fully capable of looking after myself"

"and s'not like I'd let anything happen to her, I'll have her back" Chris added, trying to sound as uncaring as possible as not to let onto the fact that he actually thought you were alright.

"see, Chris will have my back" you mimicked Chris' words, flitting your eyes in Chris' direction whilst facing Matt, your face riddled with a cheeky smile at Chris actually being nice for once.

Matt groaned, rubbing his temples with a stretched hand across his forehead, "I don't know" he sighed

Chris' shoulders dropped, he sighed and rolled his head backwards before taking a deep breath and looking to the both of you, "look, y/n's the only girl I trust t'do this with me, kay? so either she comes, or it don't happen and I really need this deal to work"

You were slightly taken aback by Chris' honesty, shooting him a small smile that was met with a quick eye roll. You looked back to Matt who was looking at his brother, clenched jaw as he bit the inside of his cheek in thought.

"nothing happens to her, kay?" Matt said, after some deliberation.

"nothin" Chris nodded, standing to attention.

"cause I will personally see to your death, kid, like I will actually break every. single. bone. in your body until you're limp and heavy like a wet sock" Matt added, pointing a finger at Chris as excitement swelled in your body.

"super graphic, dude" Chris winced, "but fine, nothin happens or I die, got it"

Seeing Chris back down to Matt was always an interesting sight, it was like watching wolves fight for dominance. You squealed in excitement over the whole ordeal.

"I'm so excited, why am I excited?" You said, cheesing

"because you're a little sadist" Matt laughed, pulling you into a tender and short kiss, "if anything happens, you call me straight away, okay? anything"

you rolled your eyes, peppering another short kiss on Matts lips, "yes, Matthew, I will call you" you couldn't help but smile at Matts protectiveness over you, it was nice to never have to worry, you knew he had you, always.

"good girl" Matt smirked, "now, Chris, get the fuck out" he turned his attention to his brother as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into you.

"be ready by eight, kid" Chris said, walking away but looking at you over his shoulder.

"will do" you chuckled, turning to pull Matt into a sloppy kiss, Chris groaned and walked out the room, slamming the door behind him.

Later that night,

You were getting ready in Matts room, putting on your best 'bait' outfit and applying a smooth layer of red lipstick. Matt watched in awe as you stretched your plump lips open, applying the red tint to the corners of your mouth. You caught him staring at you in the mirror and chuckled at his slack jaw appearance.

"maybe you shouldn't go" Matt said, coming up behind you and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Matthew" you rolled your eyes, putting the lid on your lipstick and turning around, wrapping your arms over his shoulders, "everything will be fine, I'm a big girl, okay? I can look after myself"

Matts hands snaked around your waist, making you arch into him, "I know, angel, but-" he sighed, "you're my girl, I don't really like the idea of you bein' bait for a drug deal, fuckin' hate it actually"

You cheesed at the pet name, it was his favourite thing to call you today and you weren't complaining.

"I'll be fine, I promise" You said, inching your red lips close to his as his lips parted in anticipation, you chuckled at his subtle neediness for you, knowing you were the only one who got to see him like this. You pulled your face away with a smirk and Matt tutted, raising his hand to your jaw quickly and pulling your face towards his with brute force, capturing your lips in a messy kiss.

You whimpered on instinct, arching into him as his hand came down to knead at the flesh of your skirt covered ass before placing a firm smack on one of your cheeks. You squealed with a smile, pulling away from him. Matt gazed down at you, red lipstick smeared across his lips. You giggled, bringing your thumb to his lips to wipe the stain away and Matt caught your thumb between your teeth with a teasing bite and squeezed your ass once more.

Your moment was interrupted by Chris once again, bounding into the room with, surprise surprise, a joint hanging from his lips.

"you ready, kid?" Chris said.

You peered at him over Matts shoulder and Matt turned his head to look at him. You dropped your hands from Matts shoulders, stepping out from in front of him so Chris could see your outfit.

"how do I look?" you smiled, holding your arms out in display.

"like a slut" Chris toked his joint and you cocked your eyes to the side with a half smile.

"dude" Matt warned from next to you.

"what?" Chris shrugged, "it's perfect" He grinned.

You hummed a satisfied sound and patted your skirt down, admiring your, according to Chris, slutty outfit.

"lets go, it's eight" Chris said putting his joint out in the ashtray on the table by the door after one final, long toke.

"okay" you smiled, turning to Matt to kiss him goodbye. His hands found your face instantly as you slotted your lips around his, Chris groaning behind the two of you.

"see you later" You pulled away from the kiss, hands wrapped around Matts wrists.

"see you later, angel, stay pretty for me, kay?" he smiled, placing another short kiss on your lips.

"mhm" you nodded, turning to face Chris with an excited smile.

As you walked away, Matt placed an encouraging slap on your ass. You walked past Chris, sauntering down the stairs. Just before he could follow you, Chris' shoulder was in Matts grip.

"what, kid" he huffed, but was cut off by the sight of Matt glaring at him.

"if anythin' happens to her, I will fuckin' end you," he said, his tone threatening as he spoke through gritted teeth.

Chris rolled his eyes, "Kid -" he went to speak.

"I'm serious, Chris. She's very fuckin' important to me and if she gets even close to hurt 'cause of you, we will have big fuckin' problems" Matt added, glaring at Chris.

Matts tone made Chris shift in his skin, completely unafraid of his brother but knowing what he's capable of when he's upset.

"m'not gonna let anythin' happen to her, kid, I promise, she's safe with me" Chris said, keeping Matts eye contact to show his sincerity.

"good, I trust you" Matt said, dropping his hand from Chris' shoulder.

Chris prodded the side of his cheek with his tongue and raised his brows quickly, trying not to let on that Matt trusting him was more important to him than anything.

"see ya later, angel" Chris mocked Matt, walking out the room with a chuckle.

The walk to the house was a lot less awkward than you thought it would be.

"so, whats the deal with this whole 'i need this to go well' thing?" you asked, looking to Chris with a cigarette between your lips, "why's it so important?"

"it just is, kid, why you askin' questions like you give a fuck" Chris tutted, looking you up and down with judgement.

You chuckled at his defensiveness, raising your hands in jesting surrender as you let your cig hang from your lips, "alright" you raised your brows and widened your eyes.

Chris looked at you and rolled his eyes with a sigh, pulling the preroll our from its tucked position behind his ear, he put the joint in his mouth and lit it, cupping the end with one hand as he sparked the lighter with the other. He took a long toke before blowing the smoke into the air.

"this house is one of two houses I don't sell to on the entire campus" Chris said, his voice strained slightly as he blew out the smoke.

"right" you said, encouraging him to talk.

"and, as we speak, Nate is at the other, working his Boston charm on the little christian girls of kappa kappa new" Chris smiled at you, raising his brows as he took another joke of his joint.

"and I know that thats a done deal, so, if we get this house tonight, i'll officially be the dealer of the whole fuckin' college" Chris raised his arms, turning as he gestured to the dark, street lamp lit campus.

you chuckled at his gesture, raising your brows quickly, "you sure do have big aspirations, Chris"

Chris tutted, "don't judge me, wise ass, not everyone can be a genius like you or Matthew" Chris mocked your voice as he said his brothers name.

"hey, I'm not judging" You raised your hands again

"you definitely are, kid" Chris rolled his eyes, returning his attention back to the street as he toked his joint.

"nah, i'm not, I think what you do is actually pretty cool" You shrugged, being honest.

"really?" Chris looked to you again, his face screwed up in confusion.

"yeah, you gotta be clued up to be able to do what you do, it's kinda admirable, in a... weird way" you nodded at him, holding his eye contact.

He didn't say anything at first, only fought the smile trying to crawl onto his face. Chris chuckled, shaking his head "thanks, kid, but I don't really need your approval to do what I do"

You rolled your eyes, retreating back into silence at Chris' incessant standoffishness.

When you got to house, you adjusted your outfit as you stood in the front garden, the music booming from the house as Chris finished his joint.

"you look fine, kid, stop faffin" Chris tutted.

"I know I look fine, asshole, I don't need your approval" you copied his earlier words with a grimacing look.

Chris couldn't help but laugh, you were the only person that spoke to him like that and he wasn't sure why he didn't want to throw you in front of a car because of it.

"when we get in there, jus stay close to me, y'don't even need to speak" Chris said, throwing his joint on the floor.

"so what the fuck am I here for then?" You tutted.

Chris groaned, "you know how car dealerships always have a hot chick standing by the car?" he tilted his head at you.

"yeah?" you scrunched your face at him.

"car" he pointed to himself, "hot chick" and then to you

"right" you said, bluntly.

"trust me, I know these boys n' they'll do anythin' to even look at a girl, let alone be associated with one, even if it is through their dealer" Chris added, hearing him speak about dealing made you see how smart he really was, and you felt yourself begin to kind of respect him

"so, just be a hot girl and help you sell product by doing nothing but being a hot girl?" you summarised.

"exactly" Chris smirked, slightly admiring your willingness to help him with this.

"I can do that" you shrugged, throwing your cigarette on the floor and stamping it out under your boot.

"thats why ya here, kid" Chris turned and walked towards the house, you followed him, puffing your chest out slightly and painting your features with a sly confidence.

The whole house was vibrating with people, 'Traktor' by Wretch 32 blaring through the speakers as you and Chris walked through, everyone turning to look at you both as Chris' presence cleared a path.

The whole party seemed to shift as Chris walked in, everyone whispering about the two of you, you heard mutters as you walked behind Chris, picking up the ends of sentences like 'who is that with him?' and others like 'I swear thats his brothers girl'. You had never developed the crippling gene that made people care about what other people thought of them, so knowing that everyone was talking about you didn't bother you in the slightest, maybe thats why Chris asked you to do this with him.

Chris was dapping up people as he walked through, seeing some personal regulars. He introduced you to everyone as 'Matts girl', some you already knew from spending so much time at the boys' frat house, others you had only met in passing or not at all.

Once Chris had manoeuvred you both through to the kitchen, you were met with a sight you despised. An entire group of frat boys, all clad in chinos and polo shirts, playing beer pong, terribly, and chest bumping each other every time the tiny ball entered the red cup.

"this is my personal hell" You said to Chris, resting your arm on his shoulder as you lent your body weight on him.

"you and me both" Chris chuckled, "lets go, it's game time"

Chris walked over, his demeanour shifting slightly as he approached them. He shifted from just Chris to dealer Chris, carrying an ampt up air of 'don't fuck with me' and a broadness in his shoulders that was honestly fascinating to watch.

You followed suit, pushing your hair back from your chest to hang down your back, leaving your cleavage on full display as you adjusted your walk, swaying your hips with purpose and swallowing all the hilarious jokes at the group of boys' expense you were definitely going to tell Matt later.

"yo, Chris, how you livin' bro?" One of the boys noticed Chris as you walked towards them.

"sup, Cody, was' good?" Chris dapped him up, shooting a nod at the rest of the boys' frat brothers.

"who's this?" Cody asked, gesturing to you and looking you up and down, near enough licking his lips at the sight of you.

"This is y/n, she's Matts girl" Chris replied, "y/n, this is Cody, he's the president of the frat" Chris looked to you, shooting you a short look that you understood immediately.

"hi" you smiled at the boy, blinking at him like a cat, "where can I get a drink?" you asked, putting on your best sorority persona.

"I like this girl" Cody looked to Chris who raised his brows quickly in response, "drinks table is over there, sweetheart" He pointed over to the far end of the room, "yo, packer, get Chris' pretty friend here a drink" He turned to shout to one of his frat brothers.

Packer did as he was told immediately, and within seconds you had a drink in your hand.

"Thanks, Packer" you said, brushing the boys hand for a moment as you took the drink from him and took a sip, returning your attentions to the boy who was undressing you with his eyes.

It made your skin crawl, in all honesty you wanted to throw the drink in his face, knee him in the balls and spit on his convulsing body, but, you had a role to play.

"so, I'm here 'cause I heard that your dealer got put away, and you boys in dire need of a new supplier" Chris said, pulling Cody's attention away from you.

"thats right" Cody smirked, trying to be as confident as he could in Chris' presence.

"well, I got everything ya need, bro, what'cha want" Chris shrugged, selling a pen to a writer and being effortlessly charismatic.

Cody chuckled, nodding his head and pressing his tongue to his teeth, "I told you last semester Chris, I dunno if the boys wanna be associated with you like that"

Chris rolled his eyes, "Cody, bro, who's in charge here? the boys? or you?" Chris lightly poked the boys shoulder, asserting dominance over him without even trying.

Cody thought for a moment, looking back at the boys as they continued to be terrible at beer pong.

"that is true" He nodded, looking back to Chris, "but, we gotta try before we buy, you gotta party with us" Cody added.

Chris opened his mouth to speak and looked to you for a moment, you looked up at him, furrowing your brows slightly with a small cock of your head.

"I dunno about that, bro, this ain't really my crowd" Chris said, shaking his head.

Before Cody could try and convince him, your arm was rested on Chris' shoulder once more, getting his attention.

"oh, come on, Chris, the boys wanna party, let's show em how we party" you said, your voice thick with faux encouragement disguising the message you were praying Chris was picking up on.

Chris narrowed his eyes at you and you widened yours, with a tense jaw, he turned to Cody, "alright, lets party"

Cody smiled and wrapped his arm round Chris' shoulder, guiding him over to his frat brothers and you followed them, cheesing at Chris cheekily as he shot you a glaring look from over his shoulder.

"lets do some shots!" you shouted, raising an arm and skipping over to the drinks table to get shot glasses and a bottle of vodka.

The drinks started to flow, and at some point, Chris actually looked like he was enjoying himself.

You and Chris were killing it; you beat everyone at beer pong, declaring yourself the duo of all duo's; at one point you were on a table, pouring straight liquor into Chris' mouth from about three feet up, surrounded by hoards of frat boys all cheering you on; you were arm wresting with frat boys, Chris acting as your coach, rubbing your shoulders and patting your face town with a vodka soaked tea towel as if you were a world champion boxer. It was actually, a lot of fun.

You had ten shots lined up, moving down the line side by side to do five shots each. You both knocked them back with ease, shooting one after the other like it was water. When you got to the final shot, you let out a loud 'whoop', echoed by Chris, who groaned at the feeling of pure vodka slipping down his throat. You held your hands up, asking for a high five of Chris and, in his drunken state, he complied, hitting your hands with his with brute force. You laughed loudly, cheesing at him, giving him a look that he knew meant 'its working'.

Cody and his frat brothers were around you, cheering you on as they struggled to keep up. Cody couldn't keep his eyes off you and, despite the sick feeling it gave you in your stomach, it gave you an idea.

"give me a baggy" You leant up to whisper in Chris' ear.

"what? why?" Chris said, shaking his head slightly.

"Just, trust me" you pulled away from his shoulder, nodding at him and holding your hand up.

Chris reached into his pocket, pulled out a baggy of coke and placed it in your palm, brows furrowed in curiosity as he watched you saunter over to Cody.

He couldn't quite make out what you were saying, but as you approached Cody he saw your whole energy shift, you went from your usual cold and standoffish self to a welcoming and flirty girl, Chris couldn't help but be somewhat proud.

You approached Cody, placing your hand on his chest with the baggy tucked between your fingers and got on your tip toes to talk directly into his ear.

"get your keys out" You said, putting on your best slurring drunk voice.

Cody did as you said, reaching into his pocket and handing you his keys with a smirk. You opened the baggy, keeping eye contact with him as you loaded just enough to sniff onto the end. You raised it to Cody's nose, placing a delicate finger on his nostril, your eye contact never wavering.

Cody snorted the lump of coke off the metal, his whole face scrunching up at the sensation of it shooting up his nose. You giggled, taking the key and licking it clean, batting your lashes at him before placing his keys back in his hand, letting your hand linger on his for a moment before turning away and walking back over to Chris, your face dropping from a smile the instant Cody couldn't see your expression.

Chris laughed, shaking his head in slight awe at you as you rolled your eyes, still swaying your hips, knowing Cody was looking at you.

"that was genius" Chris said as you reached his side, leaning on the counter and pouring yourself another drink.

"I know" you shrugged with a smile, taking a sip and turning back to face the party.

Chris watched as Cody bragged to his friends about what had just happened, telling everyone how hot you were and how good Chris' coke is. You nudged Chris with your shoulder and he grinned down at you, you cocked your head towards the frat boys and he pushed your shoulder jestingly, walking over to the group of boys, reaching into his pocket and handing out baggies, taking rolls of cash in return.

You stayed tucked away against the counter, watching as Chris pulled in cash endlessly, handing out bags of coke and weed to almost everyone at the party. At one point, he didn't even need to ask people if they wanted anything, they were coming to him and all he had to do was name his price. You smiled behind your cup, knowing that this is exactly how he wanted the night to go and happy that you got to be a part of this strange exchange.

Through the crowd of people, Chris found your eye-line, shooting you a grateful wink, one you returned before slamming your drink.

you pulled out your phone, vision only slightly blurry from the amount you had drunk. You messaged Matt, letting him know that everything had gone perfectly and that you and Chris were actually getting along.

You were snapped out of your text conversation by Chris saying your name, "you ready to go, kid?" he asked.

"yes, desperately, I can feel myself getting stupider just be being here" you groaned, following Chris as he walked you both through the party.

the walk home was actually, nice.

"when you loaded that key for him, I actually thought the kids knees were gonna buckle" Chris laughed, taking a long toke of his joint before offering you some.

You shook your head at his offer, reaching into your bra and pulling your cigarettes out, placing one in your mouth and using the end of Chris' joint to light it.

"dude he was literally shaking, like even being around me was enough to make him cream his pants" you chuckled, smoke leaving your mouth as you spoke.

Chris keeled over in laughter as he walked beside you, "it was fuckin' genius, kid, you're comin' on every deal with me when I have t'pretend to like those fuckin' losers"

"I'm happy to be of service" you said, curtsying at Chris with a ridiculous smirk on your face, your cigarette dangling from your lips.

Chris just laughed at your gesture, shaking his head as he toked his joint. You both walked in comfortable silence for a while, heading back to the frat house. You thought about the night, about how if you had told you a week ago that you would go out with Chris, and actually enjoy yourself, you would have laughed in your face.

"you know, I had a really good time tonight" you said, surprise thick in your voice.

Chris looked over to you and a cocked brow, "don't sound too surprised kid, m'not that bad"

"nah, you're not, you're actually kinda pleasant to be around when you're not being a cocky shit" you jested, pointing your cigarette at Chris accusingly.

"thanks, I guess" Chris chuckled, "you're not too bad either, kid"

you gasped, holding your hand to your chest, "did the Christopher Sturniolo just admit that he actually likes hanging out with me?" you said in exaggerated shock.

Chris rolled his eyes, taking a final toke of his joint and flicking the dead butt in your direction, you laughed, dodging the attack and ashing your cigarette at him.

"don't get too crazy, I wouldn't say I like hangin' out with ya" he smiled, "but I did have fun"

you walked the rest of the way home in silence, only breaking it to occasionally giggle about the events of the night or for Chris to tell you he needed to 'take a leak'. You had a surprisingly nice night, and for the first time since you had known him, you were beginning to actually like Chris, finally seeing what Matt meant when he says that he isn't 'all bad'. Chris shared your near admiration, seeing you for more than the confrontational, for lack of a better word, bitch that was fucking his brother and best friends with his girl.

It was an unlikely friendship, but it was definitely blossoming.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous

[dreamlandcreations]

In your honour

Feyd-Rautha x Reader

Summary: Feyd tricks you into engagement...

Warnings: implied Atreides!Reader (bc I can't help but ship that ship most) = enemies to lovers (to be), Reader is a bit of a judgy little grump, harassment, misogyny, fight to the death, Feyd is a smitten sneaky little menace, made up Harkonnen customs, hints of angst here and there

🖤 special thank you to @stopeatread and @kasagia for the comments that kept me going 🖤

~ 1,8K words

• Feyd-Rautha masterlist • Main Masterlist • Moodboards masterlist •

The celebration for eliminating the Fremen threat was planned to last for a week. You had more than enough of it on the first day though, of the party, of the people, of the black and white planet altogether. You wanted to leave but that would be an insult to the Harkonnens, the hosts of the event, and the fragile peace between your families couldn't take a blow like that.

The Baron was gracious enough to give your family the credit that was due for this achievement, and as one of the honoured guests, you had to be present for all of these nights of celebration, form start to end.

The smalltalk bored you to death, the men were looking at you like meat, and the way the Baron treated the servants made you sick. No, scratch that, the Baron made you sick.

The only remotely good thing was surprising to say the least. The na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, who shared your feelings towards the gathered nobles and who proved to be not just an excellent company for your brooding through most of the days you've had to spend here so far but his presence also scared away the men who wanted to try to make a decent or indecent proposition to you.

When you mentioned the offers you received Feyd became irritated but his slightly teasing and a bit accusatory questioning of your too high standards covered up the real reason behind his increasing anger. He didn't want anyone else to even have a chance to have you. It was only the third day of knowing you but he knew he will not be able to let you go. His initial amusement and fascination quickly became an unstoppable obsession and you had no idea.

Not even when the conversation went as far as him trying to convince you that you should take a chance with someone sooner or later and you might have a say in the matter unlike most noble ladies. Your answer stayed with him for the next few days.

"I have no illusions, I know there's no such thing as a perfect match but I want someone who will not try to change me, who I can trust just as much as they can trust me. Someone who would care for me even if love is not an option, someone who could be gentle with me."

That did not help with his anger. He knew it was not your intention but you basically told him that he had no chance. Trust? Care? Kindness? That was everything you can't find in his family. Feyd-Rautha was very well aware he was not right for you but no matter what the tiny little voice of what's left of his conscience told him, he couldn't let you go.

The opportunity came on the second to last day of the celebrations. He had other obligations, so you were left alone to mingle. Feyd kept an eye on you but he didn't notice the Harkonnen general approach you until you made a scene.

The general fell on his knees from the force of your hit that also broke his nose. He quickly recovered though, standing up in a quick motion, stepping into your personal space once again as he threatened you.

"You will pay for that," he said as he tried to grab you again but you stepped back, kicking him in the knee, making him stumble again.

"Try to put your hands on me again and I will end you," you practically growled your response but it only elicited a mocking laugh from the entitled man.

"If you want a fight, little witch, name your champion," he taunted as he straightened once again.

"I can fight my own battles." You declared with your head held high, not letting this excuse of a man making you feel small under his towering height.

The fool tutted at you like you were an ignorant child. "Not here, you can't."

Before you could respond a now familiar, oddly rough and soft voice declared, "I will fight for her."

The gasps across the room were followed by eerie silence. The natives of this planet knew what that meant, the na-Baron was not from your family or in your servitude, therefore, according to thier law his offer changed the challenge and now the price was much higher than the question of your honour.

He descended down the stairs from where he was talking with his uncle and some other nobles not a minute ago. It was a slow, predatory display of movement that made you shiver.

Feyd stopped in front of you but didn't take his eyes off the general until the man confirmed the acceptance of the challenge with a nod. The foul man had the audacity to grin at you with a dark intention of what he will do if he wins.

You look away from that as the na-Baron finally turns to you. His expression is unreadable as he studies you in silence.

"Why?" you finally ask.

His lips pull to a smile but he stops it as he leans in to be level with your downcast eyes. "Why not?"

You clench your fists, insisting,"I am perfectly capable of fighting."

"As he said, that's not how things work here." He bent down until his lips brushed the shell of your ear, making you shiver for an entirely different reason as he whispered, "Maybe you can give me a private demonstration later?"

You huffed, pushing at him by a hand on his chest. He let you but he caught your hand and kept it there, right above his heart as he looked down at you with an unsettling smile glinting in his eyes.

"Show me your blade," he orders, finally letting go of your hand but holding your gaze captive with his.

You take in a shuddering breath as you reply, "I don't know what you're talking about. We were searched for weapons..."

He cuts you off with an amused and accusing look, his brows, or rather where they would be raise in a mocking but expectant move as his drags his gaze slowly over your face and neck, right to the place where your breasts are straining against your dress' corset with each heavy breath.

Your lips part in surprise and that makes him look up, mesmerised for a second before he delivers a more impatient form of that taunting look. Clenching your jaw, you look away for a second, a half shake of your head at this situation is all you can afford. Then you reach into the front of your dress, pulling out the hidden blade and hand it to him.

Fey studies the intricate design of the sheath of the weapon before pulling the blade out, testing the edge against his fingertips. His full lips turn up in a satisfied smile and you are about to comment on it when he presses the sheath to your lips, stunning you once again.

He keeps the light smile as he moves your right hand again to grab the item, his hold sliding from your hand to your wrist as he guides your moves, settling the piece above your heart, making you cross your arm across your chest.

Your heart is beating at an insane beat as you eye him with suspicion, very deep down realising what is about to happen.

"Why are you doing this?" you whisper, scared to even make the question, let alone hear the answer.

He grins at you, saying, "Don't worry, I will collect my reward after I dealt with him."

With that he stepped back, putting your blade to his lips and mimicking the gesture he made you perform, then he walked away from you to go back to the podium where his opponent was already waiting for him.

They stood at a few feet from each other, in fighting stance, ready to attack the moment the Baron would let them.

The fight would have been quick but Feyd had other plans.

It was plain to see that the na-Baron was a far better fighter. And given the stories, you know the general must have seen the younger man fight in the arena before so you concluded that he indeed was an utter fool.

You stood there where he left you, surrounded by the morbidly fascinated audience that was witnessing his display. Because that's what it was a show put on for everyone to see.

Yes, he wanted to make the bastard suffer but it was more than that. This will be an example of what happens when someone tries to take away what is his, and all the while it is a chance to show his true power over a real opponent. So Feyd attacked, cut and then retreated to observe the man then he repeated the process. Again and again, until the general couldn't stand. Then Feyd-Rautha cut his throat with a swift move as the defeated man was kneeling before him.

The Baron laughed and spoke to the room, announcing that his nephew just won a wife and everyone was staring at you with disbelief while Feyd-Rautha was basking in his victory. You didn't hear or see any of it though, your focus solely on him, already knowing your fate without anyone telling you.

The next thing you knew the na-Baron was marching towards you and he grabbed you by your nape, pulling you into a forceful kiss. His lips pressing on yours, teeth biting into your lower lip, probably drawing blood as he demanded your surrounder. You gasped at the pain, granting him his wish of you opening up to him and he didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, claiming you publicly while your knees wobbled and you were holding onto him for dear life.

When he finally leaned back, he was smiling as he cupped your cheek with his free hand. "Aren't you going to congratulate me, my lovely bride?"

"Why? You already claimed your reward." Your answer was filled with anger but he didn't mind, he will make you forgive him, he was sure of it. But he couldn't help himself with a little more teasing because he liked to see that fire in your eyes.

"Not yet, my darling. Although if you can't wait for the wedding night, I wouldn't be against it."

You scoff and look away, your gaze finding your father and his mentat discretely arguing then looking back at you. They answer your silent question with a sorrowful expression and your father lightly shakes his head, meaning there is no way to avoid this.

Witnessing the exchange, Feyd clenches his jaw, and he roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"No!" he quietly growls through his teeth. "You are mine."

With that, he closes the distance between you again, this time kissing you longer and in a much more gentle manner despite his anger at your reaction. It's a promise that he hopes you understand. For you, he will try.

• Feyd-Rautha masterlist • Main Masterlist • Moodboards masterlist •

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[ddarker-dreams]

Do you have any Chrollo crumbs for those of us who are down bad for this loser of a man? Truly a curse to be attracted to him 😔

"Would you kill someone for me, if I asked?"

You're sitting cross-legged atop freshly washed linens, which smell faintly of laundry detergent and dryer sheets. Before you unceremoniously flung yourself onto the bed, with all the grace of a newborn fawn, it appeared picturesque, like the cleaning staff had ironed out every wrinkle.

In Chrollo's brief absence, you've made the king-sized bed your own. The pillows have been adjusted to your liking. You used the extras to build your ill-fated bulwark down the bed's center, in what would separate you from the enemy for an estimated two or three minutes.

"Where's this coming from?"

While asking this, he gets to work dismantling your barricade, not even dignifying the architectural wonder with a comment.

"A place of curiosity."

"Hm," he hums. "It'd depend on the target."

You scuttle toward the furthest reaches of the bed as he makes himself comfortable, mourning your barricade's demise.

"... Does that mean there are people stronger than you out there?" You ask. He regards you with a blank expression. "I'm trying to gauge my options."

Chrollo closes his eyes and smiles softly. "How morbid."

"Yeah, it's almost like I'm stuck with a person who is a terrible influence," you eye the hand that creeps your way like it's a viper. It lunges out at you, finding your wrist and gently tugging you closer to the serpent. Freeing yourself from the maws of a starving beast would be easier.

"Would that make you feel better?" Hearing his voice so close to your ear makes your skin crawl. You can feel his warm breath, smell the remnants of the cologne he applied in the morning and the complimentary mint left on the suite's countertop. "You're not worried some other scoundrel, far worse than I, might snatch you up?"

You swallow thickly. "I think someone's projecting their own fears."

"Maybe."

He rubs his thumb along your inner wrist's pulse.

"Even your contempt is alluring," he murmurs. There's a breathiness to his voice that makes you shiver. "It's like you were made to punish me."

You scoff at the proposition. "Please. What would that make you, then?"

Chrollo laces his fingers with yours and gives your hand a playful squeeze.

"A budding masochist."

[the-b-in-lgbt-is-for-banter]

They also ruled that Affirmative Action is unconstitutional

just in case you haven't heard, the supreme court just ruled that it's 100% okay for business owners to refuse service to LGBT people based off of religious beliefs

[ellemarianne555]

Munch

Summary: Aegon is obsessed with fucking you. He’s used to getting what he wants and doesn’t understand that you don’t seem to want him. Fluffy smut as always. Childhood friends to mild enemies to lovers.

Author’s note: Again I got so sidetracked with the plot I don’t know if the smut is any good! This is heavily inspired by that one scene in Heartbreak High where Spider says nah I’m good to Missy after eating her out in the car park. I hope you enjoy and as always please leave comments or feedback! Sorry if it’s cringey but I think we all kind of want a hot prince to make us feel a little bit like home.

Content warnings: eating out, coming untouched, dry-humping, shameless flirting, semi-public sex, Aegon being a dick, Aegon having a dick. You being fed up.

Word Count: 2500

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As a prince, with a certain reputation, Aegon II Targaryen knew a lot about sex. He wasn’t weird like his brother, Aemond, who kept a diary of all his conquests with notes on how to best improve his performance. But he did know how to please a woman.

As one of his sister’s lady-in-waiting, you had always been in the periphery since you had left your home and came to court as a young girl. Though you had become even more beautiful as time passed, as the Tyrell’s were renowned to be, there were so many beautiful women at court. And who was Aegon to ever deny himself?

But you did catch his eye one day. He saw you sitting in the gardens, under a shady tree in the heat of summer, making a daisy chain with your nimble and deft fingers. His mind immediately went to how those hands would feel around his cock.

“Why, hello there.” The prince purred. You looked up at him in confusion, he had just blocked your light and seemed to be talking like a character from one of those scandalous and well-thumbed romance novels you hid under your bed.

Aegon leaned against a tree, purposefully flicking a strand of straw like hair from his eyes and smirking in such a way that made it seem like he was doing his best impersonation of a twat. You giggled. You had rarely interacted with Aegon since your childhood together. You used to be close and constant playmates, but propriety had pushed you apart as you became a respected lady and he seemed to become, well, a whore. You had heard he was a dangerous womaniser now, but was this really the man the maids spoke about in reverent tones? This silly boy leaning against a tree and doing his best to cross his arms so that his doublet barely strained against his soft forearms?

You smiled, teasingly. “Can I help you with anything?”

Aegon paused, unsure of how to respond. Surely it was obvious what he wanted? You must have become a very virtuous maiden, he thought, unused to talking to men.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to have a romp under those bushes over there. I’m quite an excellent lover as I am certain you are aware.”

You froze. Had you just been propositioned by the prince? Who wanted you to have a quick tumble in the mud like a pair of rowdy pigs? You had heard he had become arrogant, but this was pushing it.

You curtsied dramatically, your knees hitting the floor as he looked at you, seemingly bemused.

“I’m SO sorry, your grace. But I fear I am need elsewhere. So that would be a no.”

You smiled sweetly and dropped the daisy chain at his feet.

You didn’t bother to look back, but if you had you would have seen a prince rubbing his forehead in confusion with one hand and thumbing the delicate flowers in the other.

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The second time Aegon attempted to impress you while hopefully communicating his desire to lay with you was a few weeks later. Aegon had been unable to get you out of his mind. As a prince, he was thoroughly unused to rejection and even more unused to having to work for what he wanted. He was training with his brother in the courtyard, or rather losing appallingly, when he saw you standing on the stone balcony overlooking the square.

He hadn’t been able to forget your smile, so sweet even when cutting him down to size. The way your eyes sparked as you dropped into that ridiculous curtsy. You reminded him of a time when he was more carefree, before the overwhelming responsibilities had twisted him into a man he barely knew.

Aemond, forever the opportunist, took this moment to swipe dirtily at him with his rapier. Aegon dodged to avoid the blade, but in doing so he failed to notice the butt of the sword smacking into his chest as he fell, face down in the mud.

When he came to, you were there, standing over him. At first he thought this was just another late-night fantasy. But this time you seemed to be laughing hysterically instead of moaning sweet nothings.

“W-what’s going on?” Aegon said as you pressed your hands into your stomach to stop the pain caused from laughing so hard.

“I’m sorry.” You gasped. “It seems you really did want to roll in the mud.”. Aegon grunted in confusion as she held out a hand to help him up. His pride and backside already bruised enough, he gracelessly accepted.

“So… Do you come watch me train often?” He preened, trying to smooth the dirt off his fine clothes.

“Well…no. I was on my way to the Maester’s to find your sister a new magnifying glass so as to examine her insects. But I saw you getting beaten so embarrassingly, I just had to stop.”

He blushed in shame.

“You deserve that you know. I’m not just some number to add to a tally on your bedroom wall. Did it ever occur to you that not everyone wants to sleep with you?”

“Don’t you?” He couldn’t help but try, grinning sheepishly.

You smiled, but it was more condescending this time and you patted his head. Staring at you again in utter confusion, he watched you walk off. The way your hips swung in that dress, the way your hair glinted in the sun, the way that you made him feel so ashamed. But also strangely aroused.

That night in his bath, Aegon attempted to rub you out of his mind while he rubbed furiously at well, his dick. But his release eluded him as he thought of how you teased him again and again. He was so close to the edge but his hand seemed pathetic compared to the soft pout of your lips. Groaning, he sank back down into the water. Now thoroughly cold and miserable.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

The third time Aegon tried to impress you, it was at a tournament held in the honour of his younger brother‘s nameday. The entire royal household was assembled in a grassy meadow as you watched the men assemble their armour to go kill some great goose or moose or something so as to revel in their masculinity.

Bored, you joined Helaena where she sat cross legged on the earth, tracing the wings of an iridescent beetle in her palm. Aegon caught sight of you and waved. He actually waved.

Helaena squinted into the sunlight as she tried to figure out who was flapping their arms so furiously at you.

“Is that my brother?”

“Unfortunately.” You groaned, covering your face in exasperation as he refused to get the message.

“I know you’ve had an affection for him since we were small, you know. It seems he feels the same way.”. Gaping, you looked at your friend. She was extremely observant when it came to her bugs but often neglected to notice the small gestures between people you took for granted.

“Really.”. She said drily. “You are both quite obvious.”

“I know. But he’s just such a twat! I mean all the women, and the drinking and the preening and the posing! It’s so infuriating how he’s always swishing his hair and smiling!”.

“Yes.” Said Helaena bluntly. “You seem utterly uninterested.”

You groaned again as the man in question strode out to where you sat.

“My lady! I shall catch a fine beast in your honour and together we shall feast!” Aegon said with flourish. Without even giving you time to pick your jaw up the floor, he galloped off merrily.

“Well, whatever happens between the two of you, make him work for it.” Said Helaena as she turned back to her little ones, and you again struggled to find any words.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

It was some time later, when you came across Aegon again. It was late in the evening, the hunting party had returned. But the prince had mysteriously not been with them.

You had been walking back to the tent in which you were sleep that night, “tent” being an understatement for the leather hides mounted on poles to cover you and sumptuous furs spread on the floor.

Aegon was sat on a tree stump. Pouting furiously as he kicked the stones under his feet. You approached him from behind, quietly so as to hear what he was grumbling about.

“Just wanted to catch a damn quail or something to impress her, and I couldn’t even shoot a squirrel!” He cursed to himself.

“You know those things really don’t impress me. Neither does inviting me to suck your cock in the gardens or falling on your face so frequently.”

He jumped out of his skin. “M-my lady! I didn’t hear you coming!”

You sat on the stump next to him, looking out at the sky. It was a cloudless night and the stars seemed to wink at you both, little pin pricks of light against the inky oblivion.

“How can I impress you then?” Aegon spoke quietly. “You don’t seem to act like most woman I know.”

“What because I don’t fall to the floor to suck your cock?”

“Well. Yes!”

“Have you ever tried even talking to me before? Just the two of us? About something other than yourself? We used to talk about everything, when we were younger.”

He sat quietly, contemplating your words. What you had said was true. He had acted like rather a prat to be honest. When you’re used to getting everything you want, the world seems a lot harder to understand as people tend to orbit around, instead of directly interact with you. And here you were, colliding with him.

“I’m sorry. I keep trying to be someone else but I’m not sure I know how.”

“You don’t have to be someone else.” You said softly. “I just want you.”

He looked at you, again throughly confused. “Even though I’m an absolute twat?”

“Especially because you’re a twat. And a pig, and a flirt and in insufferable idiot.” And with that you leant in and kissed him.

His eyes bugged open in confusion at the feeling of your lips against his. But you deepened the kiss as he tried to open his mouth.

“Please.” You smiled. “Don’t talk.”

“Now that I can do.” He grinned and returned the kiss as he grasped your waist and pressed his body against yours.

The kiss continued for what felt like an age, but like it could never be enough. His tongue was soft and questioning at first, while yours was passionate and hard. His hands remained frozen at his side as you broke apart and smiled at him. You placed his baking hands on your breasts as you undid your corset and stays.

“I want you to feel me.” He gulped nervously but seemed to find some resolve and went back to kissing and nipping at your breasts intensely. How was it that he had slept with so many women and had no idea what to do around this one. His cock was hard and aching in his trousers, but his mind could not be less focused on his own release.

He slowly sank to his knees in front of the stump, kissing up your calves as he stopped above your knee and looked at you questioningly. You smiled reassuringly and nodded, before he started licking at your inner thigh and you were unable to do anything but moan uncontrollably.

Aegon slowly kissed around the edge of your underwear, mouthing at your soaking core before tearing off the undergarment and tossing it to the soft earth beneath him.

He ate you out like a man starved, like he couldn’t get enough of how you tasted. Sucking your clit into his mouth he looked up at you as you shook and writhed. You cracked open an eye and looked at him.

“Why did you stop?” You gasped out as your heart hammered in your chest.

“I just wanted to make sure this is what you wanted.”

“Aegon, you idiot. I’ve loved you ever since we were ten years old and you pulled my braids.”

“If I remember correctly, you then pushed me down onto the dirt and then made me eat a mud pie.”

“Well” You said. “I’d be happy to make it up to you.” You reached to unfasten his trousers but he put his hand out and stopped you. His hand squeezed yours as he looked into your eyes. “Let me. I have all I want right here.”.

You nodded as he immediately went back to licking at your core. You gasped as he nipped your clit slightly and then again when he breached your entrance with a gentle but firm finger. The pressure of three fingers inside of you, stroking your walls, combined with his unrelenting attentions on your clit made you cry out as you felt a strange feeling deep inside you.

It felt like a dam breaking after a flood, like everything between you had been washed away as your release trickled out of you and onto his shirt.

Coming out of your high, you realised he was still fully clothed and surely his back hurt from crouching over for so long. You opened your mouth as if to apologise, when suddenly his lips stopped you.

You tasted your cum in his mouth and the sweet bitten-raw lips that you had bruised earlier. Looking into your eyes, he smiled.

“C-can I?” You said and he looked to the ground sheepishly.

“Ah… I’m good. You suddenly noticed the wet spot on his trousers and remembered how he had rocked himself against your leg like a bitch in heat.

You smiled and pulled him into your lap. Kissing him sweetly, you felt something fall out of his pocket and onto the forest floor. In the moonlight you could see it was a dried daisy chain.

“How did I get this lucky? ” You mused and he placed a finger over your mouth; “I want to spend the rest of my life asking you that question myself. If you’ll let me.” He finished nervously and you knew in that moment that you were home. Not at the Red Keep, not in Highgarden but here with your prince wrapped up in your arms.

A/N: part two is up and down below!!

[mygnolia]

LOVE ON A FRESH SLATE ༄ TEASER

༄ SYNOPSIS -› Sim Jaeyun might not have many critically acclaimed films in his IMBD, but if there’s something to change that, it’s his upcoming film, ‘diving in love,’ a fresh summer romance that’s caught the attention of everyone on the internet. The only problem is, no one believes the chemistry will be up to rom-com standards. Maybe he’ll save his career by fake dating his cold-hearted co-star, aka you, to sell it?

༄ PAIR -› actor!sim jaeyun x fem actress!reader

༄ GENRE -› fluff, banter, angst, comfort ༄ TROPES -› enemies to lovers, heavy on the fake dating (i LOVE fake dating) ༄ WC -› estimated 15-20k idk lolz

༄ INCLUDES -› will be added!

༄ RELEASE DATE -› november!

༄ REN SAYS... me when summer also haha get it slate cuz they're actors but also it's e2l so misunderstandings heheheh am i funny (im not) | LIBRARY

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“You’re going to tell me you signed me up for the cult of Scientology, I assume,” You introduce yourself, shaking hands with the man next to Sunoo. 

Once again, there is just one empty seat before Jake Sim walks in, out of breath. “Jungwon, please don’t tell me–” He notices you after he barges in, taking in your poised manner as you wait for him to continue. But he doesn’t. The words die on his tongue when he sees you and the same manager from last week's meeting. 

“Please don’t tell me what?” Jungwon asks, raising an eyebrow as Jake sinks into the only chair left. The latter shakes his head, not wanting to elaborate any further. 

Sunoo sits up, putting his hands together after he finishes the last sip of his drink. “Open up the files, ____.” He motions to the manila folder on the table, and with much confusion, you peel back the cover to find a neat stack of black and white articles. 

Jungwon, who you can only assume is Jake’s manager, gets Jake to lean in and read what’s on the pages. “This,” he starts, spreading out the rest of the articles, “is every article in the past week with a negative outlook on whether or not the film will be up to par with the standards of the 2000’s.”

You scoff, eyes trailing over an article with your face as the cover. “Really? People hate me that much?” Your dry humor really only resonates with Sunoo, who sends you a look before trying to organize the flurry of papers.

“I doubt they’ll keep going,” Jake tries, fidgeting with his ring. Maybe his second rich person problem was figuring out how to get the media to like him again if the movie turns into a failure and he has to scour for another source of income. 

“Unless I solve world hunger, I doubt the media will turn away from the wine scandal any time soon.” Jake considers dropping out and cutting his losses early with the way you comment on your impending future. 

Jake’s manager shakes his head, closing the manila folder and essentially blocking it out before coming up with the worst possible plan in existence. 

“You two can fake date. Then, no one will question your chemistry, because they’ll think you’re in love.” 

There were only so many things you refused to do in your lifetime, but fake dating your co-star made it to the top of your list in record time. 

You shook your head. “Absolutely not.” At least Jake could agree with one thing you said. 

The silence almost turns awkward before Sunoo speaks up in agreement, ignoring you. “I like it, it’ll give them a chance to pretend to bond more. Plus, they’re both young and attractive, and Jake is a change of pace from all of her shitty ex-boyfriends.” If Jake still wanted to jump off a building after hearing their proposition, you’d unknowingly want to join him. 

You cough in your arm, hiding the embarrassment of his last comment before nodding to look at the actor. “You think just because I’m dating someone, it’ll make the movie more watchable?” 

Sunoo rolls his eyes. “I’d much rather watch a rom-com if it was confirmed that the actors found love on set. It’s a good story.” 

Jungwon interjects. “Good publicity.” 

The actor beside you finally speaks up. “And you want to start this arrangement…when?” 

“As soon as possible,” your manager answers, and his response might be some of the worst news you’ve heard in a while. “Hear me out, ‘____ ____ and Jake Sim falling in love the moment they’re casted. It’s fate. They’ve been in love since the beginning. I have to see it, their chemistry will be so good.’ ”

Before you nor Jake are able to come up with a rebuttal, Jungwon adds, “I know both of you can act, and even despite this fake relationship, the movie will be good. But if you can get away from the negative thoughts surrounding the film’s pre-release, it’ll generate so much more hype around it.” 

“Better for your conscience, ____. You don’t need angry Sunghoon fans sending you anymore death threats.” If Sunoo kept airing out your problems like that, you’d drag him out by the ear without any fake boyfriend in tow.

You really think about it, questioning if one PR stunt could get you out of the nepo baby ditch you’ve been trying to fight for years; it wasn’t even that you were bad at your job, your mother just never had anything nice to say to anyone. If anything, she was Hollywood’s actual mean girl.

“Fine.” You agree begrudgingly. 

Jake on the other hand has no idea what he’s getting out of this. How does fake-dating a girl he’s never liked help his reputation at all?

Maybe it’s because he couldn’t find an answer to it, or maybe Jake was comfortable enough asking something so brash in public. “What the hell do I get out of it?” 

You lean back in surprise, not used to hearing him so flustered by something. It was all your fault, Jake thinks as he once again pulls at his hair. 

The room is silent as everyone’s gears turn. Jake puts his hands on both sides of the armchair, about to get up and pretend this failure of a ruse ever existed. “If there’s nothing, I’m-”

“Wait,” you cut him off, eyes still fixed on something as you think. It’s good for you, and mainly you. Jake has a good reputation, people love natural chemistry and love a cute couple even more, and your name would be in summer-y titles for the next two months if your scheme worked out. But him? 

What could Jake Sim possibly want? 

“You want money? Connections? An interview with Justin Beiber?” You try, spewing what every boy would want when they were 13. 

Somehow, his head perks up when he hears his favorite celebrity’s name from your lips. 

“You could do that?” He asks, bewildered. 

“I thought you hated me for having a famous mom.” He stays silent. 

“Look, you’re up and coming. If this movie does well, I’ll send a letter to the top producers in the industry and tell them about how stunning of a performance you gave.” 

It’s a deal that’s extremely hard to pass on–hell, he’s literally getting paid to act in the movie anyways, so it’s not like he loses much if he says yes. But you’re snarky, and although you’re not outright rude, you never seem to be excited for anything, and Jake has no idea why the mood is so sour when he’s with you.

Whatever, it’s not like it’s real, anyways.  

Jake shrugs and pinches his nose bridge momentarily before sighing. “Where do I sign?” 

You thought that Jake had been oblivious to the whole thing as much as you were, but it seems like he knew about a hidden contract. Jungwon fishes out a crisp white sheet of paper from his bag. “You know me so well, and I didn’t even tell you anything,” and his response has you thinking that maybe the actor just knows his manager well. 

Suddenly, the next year of your love life is signed and tucked away into two identical copies for Jungwon and Sunoo, before the two shake hands and smile. “I’m excited for how things will go,” your manager comments before you two leave. 

The moment the door shuts behind you, you let out a long exhale, suddenly finding interest in your manicure. 

“You’re annoying, Sunoo. But I don’t doubt you.” 

The boy smiles and links arms with you, walking to the entrance of the studio building before you both catch wind of the paparazzi. 

A swarm of reporters and cameras catch your casual outfit and sunglasses when you emerge with your manager behind you. Questions bombard you, and you hear amongst the commotion a few reporters who are desperate for their next article to feature you. ‘Is it true that you’ve hated Sunghoon for years?’ ‘What do you have to say about your new film?’ ‘Do you have anything to say about Jake Sim?’ 

You pause momentarily on the way to your car, reconsidering if you should answer any question. “Me and Sunghoon have never had a disagreement, and I know he appreciated the Prada we sent him a few weeks ago.” Smiling at the memory, you choose to answer a few more questions before you have to go. “As for the new film? I’m fairly excited. Me and my boyfriend are more than ready to be filmed together." 

The gasps from the crowd leave you content as you slip into your car with Sunoo. “But don’t tell anyone I’m dating!” You yell out for good measure, knowing that by morning, everything will have changed.

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[yawnderu]

your loser somno konig has given me so much brainroott

i have a proposition however: what if reader knew?

or completely different route, what if the reader drugged him often to do the same, with the intent of having his baby, a permanent piece of him 😇

ANON. ANON WHEN I CATCH YOU. WHEN I CATCH YOU ANON.

cw: somnophilia, drugging, noncon, femdom, breeding.

It had started out innocently— a small crush on your colonel, his tough image like a monument of what a man should be, slowly building up to an obsession that had you crushing sleeping pills, mixing them into a nice tea made specifically for your lovely colonel. It's wrong— could end your career and could even get you killed, but the chances were worth it.

You waited patiently, only slipping out of bed when you heard his snores. Your body hovered above his with the same quietness you use in the enemy backlines, one hand carefully trying to move his body just to make sure he was fully asleep. His breathing pattern didn't change at all, neither did his loud snores, so you quickly got into action knowing he'd be out for at least a few hours.

You've seen his bulge before— how can you not? It's always poking out of his pants even when he's soft, yet this is the first time you see the entire thing once you lower his pants, hooking his boxers underneath his balls.

''Jesus Christ.'' You mutter under your breath, eyes slightly ajar when you notice how massive he is even when soft. You begin to stroke his soft dick with your hand, feeling him up and taking your time to experiment with him, doing what feels right until his cock starts to respond to your touch, getting harder in your hand. You take your time to admire him once he's fully hard— all 8 inches of pure thickness, the bulging veins running down his entire length only making the heat in your stomach pool up.

Your warm tongue runs up his entire shaft, his snores reassuring you that he's not going to wake up no matter what you do. You latch onto the tip, the taste of salty precum invading your tongue, running circles on his tip before letting go with a loud ''pop'', only getting up to take off your pants, straddling him and holding the tip of his hard cock over your sopping cunt. You don't take his mask off— the least you can do is respect his privacy even when you're doing something so sinful and forbidden.

You lower yourself down on his cock slowly, taking your time to enjoy every single inch stretching open your insides. It takes a hot minute before your cunt is able to take all of him, a hand over your mouth to muffle your whines. It almost hurts, but the ache is overcome by the pure need of feeling more of him.

You slowly bounce on his cock, getting more and more used to having all of him all the way inside before you're freely bouncing on his cock, your free hand going down to massage his heavy balls while you impale yourself down on him. It feels too good to stop despite how wrong it is, mind filled of images of a possible future together if you manage to get pregnant tonight— if not, you can always keep trying.

Your eyes drift down to his masked face, a small smile on your lips when you think about what he may look like underneath the balaclava and sniper hood; how pretty your babies will be. It's only motivation to keep fucking yourself down on his cock, feeling it throb inside you while you only bounce down on him faster, feeling your orgasm build up. It doesn't take long before you're cumming around his cock, getting even tighter around him and milking him dry, his unconscious body responding to your stimulation by shooting ropes inside you.

You wait a few minutes before hesitantly moving away from him, getting on your knees in bed and licking him dry, getting rid of the evidence of your sinful act, taking one last look at his softening cock before you pull his pants back on, fully unaware that König would be returning the treatment the next night— and the one after that, up until you come to him with a positive pregnancy test, hopefully seeking for his help.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Only His

Feyd-Rautha x Concubine!reader

Summary: A diplomat from Caladan wants to borrow you for the night. Feyd doesn't take that very well. Requested by @midnight-serendipity

Words: 2700

Notes: cursing, mentions of smut (a little), gore, blood, death, typos.

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Feyd breathed Hatred. 

He bled Hatred. 

When he killed, Hatred controlled his movements. Like a parasite in the brain, Hatred determined the thrust of his blade, how deep it sunk into an enemy’s gut, and the degree to which he twisted the weapon before pulling it from a soon-to-be lifeless body. 

He’d cultivated a bond with Hatred. There was a mutual understanding of one another, he thought. But as Feyd listens to the proposition from the man sitting his opposite, Hatred slowly becomes a stranger.

Turns out Hatred has a claiming side, a how-dare-you-look-at-what’s-mine side, and from that, Feyd realizes he never knew Hatred, not truly. Because this feeling—whatever it is—has revealed that Hatred is more potent than he initially believed.

“You want to what?” Feyd grits out through clenched teeth. 

“There’s no need to get upset,” the man chuckles; a diplomat from Caladan sent on behalf of Duke Atreides who came to Giedi Prime to reinforce treaties and trade agreements with the Baron. Others were sent from their respective planets, but he is by far much bolder than the rest when it comes to stepping out of bounds.

“I'd give you something in return,” Nolas—that’s his name. Feyd could barely care to remember—continues. “Whatever you like. I just want her for the night. Something to make the long trip here worthwhile and the trip back more bearable.”

“You think my concubine can be bought?”

“All concubines can be bought,” he says. “At the very least, borrowed.”

If so, then you are a concubine of untraditional nature. You are not shareable. You cannot be divvied up amongst the group so each may enjoy their slice; not as long as Feyd lives. And should he not live, for reasons foreseen or not, he long ago requested that your life be ended as well. That way you could be together. That way no man could ever have you. 

The thought of another’s hands on you sets fire to Feyd’s veins, threatening to burn his pale skin from the inside out. His heavy brow dips forward to darken the light hue of his irises. He stands and crosses the bridge between his seat and the one occupied by the older, pudgy man, looming over him to the point that Nolas must tilt his head back so their eyes can meet. 

“I will not be giving you mine,” Feyd growls. “Not for anything you could offer.”

Nolas huffs. “Now be reasonab–” 

Feyd fists his fingers into the collar of Nolas’s jacket, twisting tightly and yanking upward until Nolas chokes from the constricting fabric pressing into his windpipe. 

“Let me be perfectly clear,” Feyd spits, leaning forward. He opens his mouth to continue, but just as his next words are ready to leap from his tongue, something odd takes root in Nolas’s vile eyes. Odd, because it is not fear.

The bulk of Feyd’s skills lies in his ability to incite fear, whether through words, or battle, or presence, and with the exception of his uncle, fear has successfully struck the core of any soul who has crossed his path. Civilians, servants, his brother, his mother, even you have not been spared, but the man in his grasp is not cowering. He is not trembling. He is not soaking in the vulnerability of the position he is in where Feyd could snap his neck in a half-second. Instead, he holds the spearing gaze of the youngest Harkonnen. Matches it, even.

Feyd sinks his teeth into his boiling rage and forces it to overpower the shock that has slipped in. “You will not get within fifty feet of her. You talk to her, you surrender your tongue. You touch her, you lose a finger. You look at her, I’ll take an eye and it can sit alongside the rest of my trophies.”

A smirk touches Nolas’s face, practically undetectable before it is gone, and suddenly Feyd feels it. That loss of control. He feels Nolas penetrate his skull and weave spindly tendrils through his brain, poking and prodding for Feyd’s secrets. And then there’s a moment; a moment when Feyd nearly stumbles—the moment Nolas latches on to the one thing Feyd can not afford to have known by anyone other than himself. 

The smirk returns. “Of course, na-Baron,” oozes off of Nolas’s slimy tongue. “I wouldn’t dare lay a hand on the woman you love.”

With another half-twist, the collar tightens, blocking the blood from leaving Nolas’s face. He’s cherry red—or at least what Feyd imagines is cherry red based on your description—and he thinks with a few more turns of his fist, he could get Nolas’s head to pop right off his shoulders and tumble onto the floor. 

“What are you doing!” Rabban snaps, stomping toward the duo. He rams his hand against Feyd’s chest, but despite being forced back a step, he does not release the diplomat. He does not blink, fingers transmuting to steel as Rabban works to pry them open. “Uncle wants him alive for tonight!”

Feyd doesn’t care about tonight. He doesn’t care for some party announcing his uncle’s plans for the future. He does not care that this man, this worm, is considered a vital messenger. Send a fucking letter. 

Rabban whips out a small blade and slashes downward, nicking Feyd’s knuckles. It stings but livens the rush of his blood. His heart pounds harder, teeth gritting and cracking. 

“Feyd!”

Nolas’s eyes begin to redden, threadlike veins almost glowing. No air exits his nostrils and just as he finally wraps his hands around Feyd’s wrist, yanking and jerking to free himself, the tension in the fabric snaps. 

Nolas gasps for air, falling forward and revealing the clean slice down the back of his jacket collar. Feyd’s head turns to Rabban’s disgusted glare. 

His brother sheathes his knife. “You’d defy our uncle’s orders?”

Feyd glances back at Nolas, who has yet to recover, before spinning on his heel and leaving.

—

“Are you embarrassed of me?” you ask, your attention focused on the precise wrapping of bandage tape around Feyd’s knuckles as you sit beside him on the bed. “Is that why you don’t want me to go tonight?”

“Yes,” Feyd grumbles. No, his mind snaps back at him, and he huffs. 

Your arrival on Giedi Prime birthed a conscience within him—a conscience that exists solely for your sake—and because he often fucks up when it comes to you and your feelings, it never shuts up. You’re hurting her. Look at her. Do you not see that devastation? He does, and little pinpricks nip at the organ in his chest. 

You lightly nod as you mutter a pathetic, “Oh.”

With a hefty sigh, Feyd says, “It’s for your protection.” There! Better!

Fingers pause their work and your head shoots up to meet his eyes, a small smile curving your lips. 

“Oh,” you repeat. There’s a hint of excitement in your tone, a glint in your bright irises that causes Feyd’s cheeks to warm. 

You rip the used tape from the rest of the roll and set it aside, and then that smile disappears. “Wait, protection from what?”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re safe if you’re not there tonight.”

You hum, and from that hum alone, Feyd knows exactly what’s running through your mind. 

“And my safety is very important to you, is it?” you ask, lifting the skirts of your dress so it doesn’t catch under your knees as you move to straddle his hips. 

Feyd rolls his eyes. His hands settle on your waist. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he mildly scolds. 

You lean into his body until he falls back onto the mattress, your chest pressed to his chest, your face hovering above his. 

“I don’t know,” you tease as your fingertip skims over his bottom lip. “I’m starting to think you might like me more than you let on.”

“Think what you want,” he says, turning his head to the side and severing the taut band connecting your gazes. 

You chuckle and grip his chin, demanding he look at you again. “Fine, I will,” you whisper before inching your lips closer until they ghost over his. “I think you like me.”

You give him another feather-dusting of a kiss but it’s not enough. Never enough. Feyd growls, burying his hand into the strands of your hair to hold your head still so he can claim your lips in the devouring manner he desires. 

When you moan, he wraps his arm snuggly around your waist. When you suck on his tongue, his cock flinches in his pants and he involuntarily thrusts upward between your spread legs. 

Your responsive yelp is a drug. Addicting. So different from the yelps he expected to receive from you after he’d chosen you as his concubine. He’d gone into the situation wanting any noise your delicate throat could make to be a product of the pain he intended to inflict upon you, but when he’d taken you that first night, that yelp was of pleasure. He’d hit a particularly sweet spot inside of you and was instantly overcome with a desperate need to hear it again and again and again. 

You pull your lips apart from his. Your gentle pants fan his face. He brushes your loose locks behind your ear. 

“Promise me you’ll stay in the room,” he says. 

“I promise.”

—

He’s gone. Feyd took his eyes off the bastard for one second, and now he’s gone. It’s not as if Nolas will be capable of finding you—he’s not familiar with the fortress’s layout enough to know which room you’re in and you swore you wouldn’t so much as peek through a crack in the door—but still, a sense of dread stiffens Feyd’s limbs. Nolas has no reason to be outside of this room. He has no reason to be doing anything but drinking his fill and mingling with the others of his station. And yet…

“Did you hear me, brother?” Rabban’s voice intrudes upon Feyd’s third scan of the room. He’s not here. He’s not fucking here. 

“Brother–”

“No,” Feyd snaps before descending the short staircase. 

He snakes through the crowd toward the main doors of the vast room. They’re wide, tall, loud when opened and closed, and it’s impossible Nolas could’ve snuck out without Feyd’s notice. 

“Where’s the Caladanian?” Feyd demands of the guards posted on either side of the door. 

“No one has attempted to leave, my Lord,” one says. 

Feyd’s brow pinches. The only remaining exit is a side door specifically designed to blend with the wall. The fortress is speckled with similar doors, all of which connect to an inner walkway that servants and guards use to get around the massive structure quickly when needed. 

“Come with me,” Feyd instructs, receiving a curt nod in return. 

Feyd’s body traces the wall until he reaches the door. He pushes it open and slips inside, the guard on his heels. The noise of the room fades with every step down the corridor and at each new unexpected sound, his head cocks, his ear reaching for the source. 

Then he hears it. 

“Your na-Baron offered you to me,” travels through the wall separating him from the paralleling hallway.

And then your sweet voice. “Offered? N-No, Feyd wouldn’t.”

You’re right there, right on the other side of the thin barrier, but he can’t reach you. You’re trying to remain calm but you’re scared, Feyd knows it, and as he starts to rush to the next closest door, he begs that you keep the bastard at bay just a little longer. 

Once he shoves through the door into the hall, your voice comes in much clearer, but all sight of you is blocked by Nolas’s breadth and height. 

“He wouldn’t give me away,” you say. 

Nolas chuckles. “He hasn’t, sweetheart. I’m simply borrowing you for a little.”

“That’s not—hey, don’t touch me!”

Feyd bursts into the embodiment of fury. Everything goes red. He feels red; he sees red; he tastes and smells and hears red. His vision pulses to his heartbeat’s rhythm. He craves the death of his enemy. To have blood coat his tastebuds. To absorb the scent of freshly drawn iron. 

Feyd’s ears pound with pressure and he worries it will muffle the beautiful screams of his victim, but to his great pleasure, as his blade is stuffed into a meaty back, the screams come in loud and clear in perfectly pitched notes that echo down the hall.

The body collapses, knees slamming into stone flooring.

“Feyd,” you whimper. 

“I told you to stay in our room,” he says lowly, not sparing you a glance as his knife momentarily leaves the body to reenter at the spot where neck meets shoulder. Blood sputters from lips, adorning your dress with a sprinkling of rubies.

“One of the servants said you needed me and I–”

“Take her back,” Feyd orders his guard. “Now.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Feyd!” you cry, tripping over your skirt as you struggle to keep pace with the guard dragging you around the corner. 

It’s better this way. If you’re gone, he can give his undivided attention to the paling body and the scarlet puddle spreading beneath it. 

“You don’t listen,” Feyd says, coming to the front of his victim who is impressively still sitting upright. 

There’s a whimper, another lovely song before Feyd pries open the mouth, digs between a row of teeth, and pinches the tongue with two fingers. He pulls it as far as it can be pulled and then lops it clean off with his knife. It lands on the floor with a wet slap. The fingers follow—all ten—amputated from now lifeless hands. And then the eyes, plucked free from the skull with ease. One of them rolls a fair distance after being tossed aside. The other he keeps.

Feyd steps back to stare upon death at its purest; a flawless display of cause and effect, of crime and punishment. 

“I told you what would happen,” he says. 

He doesn’t get a response. 

—

It’s late when Feyd returns to you. He spent the last few hours explaining his role in the ending of a diplomat’s life. He was careful with his words. He had to be. If his uncle knew he killed in defense of his concubine, it would introduce a plethora of complications. No one can know just how far he would go for his woman lest he put you further at risk and open himself up to manipulation. And he can’t have that. 

Feyd expels a relieved sigh at finding you tucked under the sheets. You’re on your side, a palm between your cheek and the pillow. 

He moves to take a seat on the edge of the mattress. As he runs his hand over your hair, your eyes open. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, and you nod. 

“A servant came to the room, said you needed me,” you tell him. “I was led to that man instead of you. I wasn’t trying to go against what you asked of me.”

“I know,” Feyd says. “The servant was paid. Someone witnessed the exchange.” He watches a flash of shock and pain travel across your irises. “He’s dead now. They both are.”

You swallow, biting into your lip as your eyes and mind briefly drift elsewhere. Feyd waits for you to come back, and once you do, you look up at him and nod in acceptance. 

“Will you come to bed now?” you ask. “Please? I can't sleep without you.”

“You were asleep when I came in.” Your head shakes. 

In all fairness, you haven't spent a single night apart since he got you, and he doesn’t view it as clinginess—it’s more his decision than yours—but rather an expression of how much you want him near. And he likes being wanted. It’s different. Foreign. Nice. The both of you need it. Tonight, perhaps, more than ever.

Feyd stands and peels off his layers of clothes, then goes to the other side of the bed to slide under the covers. You flip over, nestling yourself against him and resting your head on his bicep.

“I thought you didn't want me anymore,” you whisper. “I thought–”

---

“Don't think,” he says. “You're mine; you know that.” He presses a kiss to your hairline. “I don't share you.”

And may fate have mercy on anyone who suggests otherwise.

Tag List (if you wanna join)

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - Aemond Targaryen

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series.

☾⋆⁺₊✧ Summary: A taint twists through the kingdoms of man and elf, killing all life in its wake. Your father, a brilliant mind, had worked tirelessly for a solution to fight that evil. However, you are left shouldering the burden of his research after he mysteriously disappears.

A newfound companion lands you a position working under the watchful eye of elf healers. You struggle to hold yourself together in the dark woodland kingdom of elves ruled by their merciless king - Aemond Targaryen. Secrets breed more secrets, and figuring out who to trust is more difficult than ever - especially when you cannot even trust yourself.

It is a race to find a cure while unravelling the secret behind your father's disappearance, the origin of the taint, and the troubling stirrings in your heart caused by the elf king. The impending war between humans and elves drives tensions further, casting a dark veil over your endeavours.

Moreso, when death itself seems to come knocking upon your door.

It can also be found on my Ao3, right here.

☾⋆⁺₊✧ Chapters:

Chapter 1: The Laws of Humans and Elves Chapter 2: A Modest Proposition Chapter 3: A Study in Death Chapter 4: A Night of Song and Dance Chapter 5: The Young Elf Chapter 6: A Snake in the Garden Chapter 7: The Dark Woods Deep Chapter 8: Marked Flesh Chapter 9: Home and Hearth Chapter 10: The Art of Potion Making Chapter 11: A New Ally Chapter 12: Death's Sting Chapter 13: Of Taverns and Bathhouses Chapter 14: The Saphire Chapter 15: Know Your Enemies Chapter 16: Every Little Thing Chapter 17: The Winds of War Chapter 18: Past, Present, and Future Chapter 19: The Scars of Betrayal Chapter 20: An Elf's Rage Epilogue: An Elf's Devotion

☾⋆⁺₊✧ Content warning: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, mentions of alcohol consumption, and Criston Cole (yikes).

☾⋆⁺₊✧ I am extremely excited to begin releasing this series! Ever since season one was released, the concept of writing an elf-based story on Aemond has been living rent-free in my head.

There will be weekly updates to this series. While I have extensive outlines for each chapter, I wish to take this at a slower pace when it comes to releasing. This way, I can balance other works on this page as well. (along with my uni coursework).

Thank you all for the support! <3

☾⋆⁺₊✧ If you want to be added to the taglist, click here!

[axiina]

I saw your post about writing for Coriolanus Snow Andi was thinking classic enemies to lovers nsfw I’ll give you free liberty with everything else 💕

'I hate you' is new 'I love you'

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral afab)

Summary: When your professor tells you to come to an agreement with your enemy, and you take 'come' too literally.

Words: 3.2k

Themes: smut, nsfw

Warnings: using of 'you' to reader, set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, more like academic rivals to lovers but they want to fight at some point so I guess it counts, NSFW | public sex (or more semi-public), unprotected sex (wrap it before tap it), p in v sex, kinda toxic but it's enemies to lovers, more like enemies who fuck, Coryo is pretty rough and possessive, marking, making out, idiots in love but they prefer fighting with each other

Author's note: I found some free time between studying, so I decided that I can no longer delay. English is not my first language so i hope that i didn't do too much mistakes. It is possible that a single "she" or "her" will appear here because I changed the concept during writing and I do not know if I got rid of everything. Let me know whether to stay with the use of 'you' or maybe replace it with personal pronouns or 'y/n'. I hope it's not written very awkwardly and you will like it!!

Coriolanus Snow is a peculiar person. Most people love him. Nice, classy, handsome and rich from a wealthy family. What more could one want? However, one of Coriolanus' traits that everyone seems to turn a blind eye to is his two-facedness. Some say this is merely a symptom of his cunning and wits. He knows when and how to behave to make his counterpart happy. You are not one of those people. Saying that you and Coriolanus Snow don't like each other is a huge understatement. You guys hate each other. From the very beginning when you both met at the academy it was known that you would cause a lot of problems. Too much of a character difference, or perhaps too much of a similarity between the two. However, this is not what is crucial. Whatever it is, it makes you two most likely to kill each other if you could. Every move you make you do to screw each other up. To prove who is better.

Professor Satyria's pleas for you to finally come to an agreement are of little use. The conflict must go on, and neither of you has any intention of giving up.

You like the way things are working out. At first, Snow was annoying and you didn't understand how people couldn't see him for what he really was. Fake. Now he is still annoying, but getting under his skin has become a sort of routine. Quite a pleasant one.

"You have to get along with each other and set a good example as rightful citizens of the Capitol, otherwise the Academy will draw out the consequences."

Professor Satyria's words continue to ring in your ears as you get ready to go home after finishing classes and doing punishment work. On the one hand, you don't want something as silly as arguing to weigh on your future, but on the other hand, reaching out to agree is like admitting you were wrong. Failure.

"Wherever I am you must also appear. Are you obsessed with me?" Behind your back, you heard a familiar, annoyingly kind voice, in which you could sense some arrogance. You groaned turning around to see no one else but Coriolanus.

"Don't you have anything better to do? People are finally getting tired of your idiocy?" Your words, however, did not budge the blond. His expression remained unchanged. One that might make most people think he is a nice person. You, however, have known him long enough to see right through it. Perfect. Too perfect.

"We need to talk. A positive outcome for both sides. It will interest you." Well, the threat of Satyria. He is the first one to extend his hand for agreement. Where is the trick? You look at him suspiciously without saying a word, and so Snow takes it as a sign that you are thinking about the proposition. "Do you have free time? Maybe we could go out somewhere together?"

The suggestion makes you burst into laughter. "With you? No thanks, I'll pass on this pleasure."

Coriolanus is not surprised by your answer. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. Accepting rejection, however, is not his strong point. He is annoyed by your behaviour, but he bites his tongue to avoid responding in the same spiteful way. Instead, he doesn't give up.

"I know we were never on good terms, but I want this war between us to end. I hope we can put behind us all the bad things that happened between us and start fresh. What do you think about this?" he says, sounding quite sincere.

"Let me think." You say and sigh, pondering the answer, which is obvious, but you can't let go of a little malice. "No."

The expression on Snow's face became more serious. It seems that your refusal offended his pride. But he doesn't show it in his tone of voice.

"Why not?" he asks and you notice how he clenches his jaw and his gaze becomes unpleasant.

You enjoy the view and it fills you with satisfaction. "Because you think that with a pretty face and fake politeness, you can get anything. Maybe it works with others, but I'm not that stupid. Additionally, you are damn annoying. That's why."

The expression on Snow's face becomes dark. Typical when he fails to get what he wants. His usual tone is completely gone. His face is twisted with anger. He still tries to maintain a polite voice. The attempt fails.

"Do you want to repeat it?" he asks through his teeth. It's obvious that you've hit one of his sensitive points. That was the plan.

"Exhausting, isn't it? Hiding behind the mask of a nice and put-together boy from a highly placed family who is a veritable ideal is tiring, isn't it?" A mockery can be heard in your voice. Coriolanus is very sensitive to it.

"What do you think you know about me?" He asks through clenched teeth, his tone no longer artificially polite, it is filled with rage. Your mockery has really gotten to him. He tries to calm down, but it's all in vain. Coriolanus has never had problems with self-control, but something about you makes him ready to abandon everything. You manage to get him off balance with ease. In his head, he has one plan. To destroy you.

"Do you think you pretend so well?" You burst out laughing and shake your head. You know you shouldn't say such things. The academy is practically empty, and Coriolanus's angry enough can be unpredictable. However, you can't help but point out everything that annoys you about him. "It's actually quite easy to see what kind of person you are. You look at people with disgust, but when they look in your direction, you suddenly change dramatically. how fake you are to everyone. I wonder how they don't see it. How empty and shallow you are."

"You don't know anything about me!" Snow shouts at you, his face twisted with rage. He is barely able to control himself. He doesn't even try to hide it anymore. He stares at you with hatred in his eyes.

"Don't you dare assume that you know everything about me. You don't know me one bit. You don't know what my life is like. Don't think so highly of yourself. You aren't better than me." He continues, his voice getting louder with every word he says. You really hit his sensitive spot.

"I don't know everything and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. For me, the most important thing is acts, and in your case, they are fake and two-faced. You despise people, and you yourself are at the bottom." Irritation takes over. You know that at any moment you can say one word too many if you haven't already. However, someone has to talk it all out for him. Adrenaline makes you take a step closer to the upset boy without considering the possible consequences.

Snow seems to be on the verge of a breakdown. His fists are clenched and his eyes are wide open with rage. He is breathing hard, trying to control himself. He's not used to being treated this way by anyone. He has come this far over the years, solely because of himself and what role he has taken in society. You really succeeded in hurting his pride. "I warn you right now. Don't mock me any further."

"Why? What will you do? hit me? do it, I dare you. Then everyone will see how "perfect" you really are." You know the situation is starting to get dangerous. However, you come closer. It's stupid, you know it, and yet you do it. Maybe it's the way his reactions give you satisfaction, or maybe it's the way he looks at you.

You can see the hatred oozing from his eyes when they are locked on yours. His face is full of rage, his breathing heavy and his muscles tense.

He takes a step toward you with a clenched fist. You can see his knuckles turning white. He grabs you and presses you against the wall, his body against yours.

A second later, you feel him pressing you against the wall tighter than before, and his hand grips your throat.

You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. Your heart is pounding as if it wants to jump out of your chest. You feel a strange sensation in your lower abdomen. His eyes are cold, yet they make a pleasant shiver run through your body. His face is right next to yours, flesh pressing against yours. It was a matter of split seconds as you two pressed your lips to each other in an aggressive and hungry kiss.

He returns the kiss, wrapping his free hand around you. He seems to enjoy the kiss as much as you do.

You can feel his body trembling as he still tries to keep control of his overwhelming emotions, or maybe it's because of the situation you're in.

The two of you kiss aggressively. Snow's body shakes as he fights between his desire and how much you get on his nerves. You feel how rough but passionate his kiss is.

He draws you closer and your bodies press against each other. The friction of your bodies makes you uncontrollable over the muffled whimpers you make. You feel the bulge forming in his pants rubbing against your body.

The situation seems hazy, and only fragments register in your mind. How you both enter the bathroom without stopping your hungry and clumsy kisses, and your hands work to get rid of clothes that only makes it difficult. How Coriolanus presses your body against the wall slamming his hips against yours.

All this is to express yourself and give vent to all the negative emotions you have been holding for years.

Snow's body is now almost completely controlled by his emotions. His movements seem full of hatred and at the same time passion. He just wants to express himself using his flesh to claim you as his own.

You feel as if you are on fire, your body moves and reacts according to your desires. The tension that has built up between you for years is finally released, and it all comes out as raw passion.

His fast and aggressive movements make the place where your bodies meet burn in a pleasant way, and you think to yourself that it will be a miracle if you walk normally tomorrow. His dick stretches you nicely and his movements make your inside sting slightly. It's not a problem for now. Not now when your legs are wrapped around his waist and the only sounds you can make right now are moaning and repeating his name like a mantra.

Your body trembles at how rough his movements are, but you don't care now. The most important thing for you now is to show him how much you hate him. A broken moan leaves your lips when he reaches deeper.

Coriolanus feels your legs tighten around him. He moves slower now but is more passionate and rough. He holds your hips tightly, not caring if it is uncomfortable for you. His lips move to your neck, where he bites as if he is trying to unload all the emotions you are causing you this way.

His hips buck firmly against you. Each thrust makes your body more tired and aching but at the same time, it makes the whole experience even more pleasurable. If someone told you that you would end up having sex with your biggest rival in the academy bathroom, you would laugh in that person's face. There you are, panting, with your arms around his neck when Coriolanus Snow is abusing your cunt sensitive from too much friction.

Coriolanus brings his lips closer to your ear. His warm and irregular breathing makes a shiver go through your body. "Do you like it when I claim you as mine?" He purrs, his voice still filled with desire.

"I hate you, I hate you so much," You exhale in a trembling voice that takes a lot of trouble to keep from cracking. You bite and suck at the smooth skin of his neck, leaving there dark marks. "I hate you, Coriolanus Snow."

"I hate you too," Snow says with a low growl as he continues to hold you. He bites your shoulder, leaving marks on your skin. His moans are muffled by your skin, which he touches constantly, as if afraid that at any moment you might escape and leave behind only a faint memory.

You hate him, but you enjoy him. You are pleased when he takes you as his own. You are excited when he uses your body. You feel his passion and desire through his body. You feel his raw passion and it's hard to hate him now.

"oh go to hell" You hiss and bite your lower lip to stop your moans, feeling him moving faster.

He doesn't care if he hurts you or not. All he cares about is that you belong to him right now. His hips slam against yours in an aggressive peace. The bathroom is filled with sinful noises because you don't even think about the fact that someone might come in and hear them.

"you may have already fallen in love, but with me, it's not so easy" A trembling laugh leaves your lips. You feel your head getting foggier and foggier. It's hard for you to put together a meaningful sentence, "but you're doing a good job" a loud moan leaves your mouth. you close your eyes and throw your head back "mmm my sweet toy."

He hears your moans of pleasure, and his eyes close with a smile. He has won and he knows it. Snow always lands on top. He presses you against the wall with his body even tighter. His movements become more sloppy and deeper as if he wants to bury himself inside you. His body trembles as his lips leave broken moans and whimpers.

Passion is so strong that you can almost forget about hatred. You can almost fall in love with Coriolanus Snow. Almost. But you know that what you feel now is only lust, and you know that it's all temporary.

Not him. Not the arrogant boy whose whole life is based on lies. Not that boy who doesn't care about anyone. Not that boy with a beautiful face and mesmerizing blue eyes. Not him.

You press closer to his body, almost clinging to him as a wave of pleasure sweeps over your body.

Coriolanus lets out a raspy throaty moan feeling your walls pulsate around him. His voice is low and shaky. He doesn't seem to notice anything except the way you cling to his body. He moves faster and harder, making sure he satisfies you completely.

Snow is fully immersed in feelings. He can't think clearly or rationally. He only knows that he has to claim you, that he has to satisfy his needs. He wants to feel you and make the most of the situation. All his thoughts and desires are focused on you. His hip movements speed up as he reaches the climax. He hides his face in your neck to muffle his moans. His body stiffs as he comes inside you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist. you cling to each other, still not making contact with the real world as your breathing slowly calms down.

What happened in that bathroom is over, they both return to reality. Snow steps back slightly and helps you stand on your own two feet. He looks at you with heavy eyes. All the emotions he had been hiding inside him had finally been released.

He has won and he knows it. He has succeeded. But what now? Was it really worth it? This is not a question for now. Coriolanus does not look far into that future with his thoughts.

You look at each other in silence. Slowly you begin to realize what you have done and now you look at each other awkwardly and somewhat panicked.

Coriolanus is the first to break the silence. His cheeks are flushed and his breathing is faster. The passion he felt a minute ago still lingers in his heart, something he tries to hide from you. He looks at you with a somewhat absent and uncertain gaze

"Do you think we should forget what just happened?" He tries to make his voice sound normal as if nothing had happened.

"Definitely." The words leave your lips before you have time to think. You stare at each other in silence for a few more moments and begin to quickly put on your clothes.

Snow is surprised at how quickly you agree with him. He needs to make sure this is the end of what just happened between the two of you, so he adds.

"If anyone asks, it never happened." He now looks at you with a somewhat panicked expression on his face.

"You don't have to tell me," you scoff, buttoning your shirt, "if you tell even one soul, I'll kill you, I swear."

Coriolanus looks at you with small amusement while fixing his jacket. "I hope you won't become obsessed with me after this."

"Maybe in your dreams," you say with a slight smile fixing the collar of his shirt. " you better be careful that you are the one who will be lost in memories of me." Before you leave the bathroom you stop in front of the mirror and fix your uniform and hair. Coriolanus smiles for a moment but then quickly clears his throat and tries to look cold.

You both come out of the bathroom, look at each other and part your lips, as if to say something to each other, but you look at each other in silence "Now everything is back to normal. We can still hate each other," you say, but this does not improve your mood at all.

"It never happened," Snow says trying to look you in the eyes, wondering if you're thinking about it too. He wonders if what he feels is real, or if it's just a moment of passion.

"Never" You agree by nodding your head. Your gaze goes down to his mouth. As you look into his eyes again without a moment's thought you move closer to him and press your lips to his in-hungry kiss. He kisses you back wrapping his arms around you to bring your body closer.

You parts away after some time and you both catch your breath for a moment after this passionate kiss. Coriolanus is completely consumed with passion and there is nothing in his mind but you.

You move away and nod to each other as if you have just made a deal and each is walking in your own direction in a much better mood.

Maybe that's not exactly what Professor Satyria meant when she said you two should come to an agreement, but it certainly worked.

[seafoamsol]

The best years of my life...

... what I wouldn't give to have them back.

I had the great pleasure of working with @spiderscribe on a DeadCeptor work for the @tf-bigbang, which you can (and should!) read [ HERE ]!

Details and artist commentary under the cut!

Okay, first off, I just wanna say, thank you so much to @spiderscribe for picking up my very loose scribble and taking the jump. She's an absolute champ, and I IMPLORE you to read her writing. She did a knockout job on the fic, and guaranteed, these two pieces wouldn't have been so elaborate without her. If you're a fan of deadceptor, parallels, lovers to enemies to apocalyptic teammates to ???s, I'm sure you'll find that and more in there.

[ HERE ] is the link to that, if you missed it the first time around.

The background for the supermarket was a MASSIVE undertaking. I ended up blurring it in the final to keep the dream-like quality, but there is a lot happening there! Most of the time I spent on the background was (jokingly) complaining though.

Anyone who works retail will know the agony of customer-misplaced stock. The little canisters of energon additives seem like prime candidates to be placed willy-nilly.

The little warning sign... My favorite soda, apple sidra, has a carcinogen warning, so I'm familiar with it. It was slightly surprising to me that those warnings are not countrywide, despite the fact that they very clearly say "California Proposition 65", and well. Not something else, like "Federal" or whatever.

The bags of nuts and bolts below, I asked several people what flavor they would be, and I suppose I failed in my job, because I wanted the purple to be the "regular" flavor, and the green to be the "sour". But grape and lemon-lime work as well!

The tub is full of rust-sticks. I have no idea if that came across. My friends kept calling the individually wrapped ones slim jims, which I mean, I guess!

The car batteries... My idea was that they were similar to shots, in a way? So that's how I ended up with a battery with enough terminals to rival an international airport. It's also sunset-coloured, because, I don't know, that's what Party Flavor is to me.

Okay. The second illustration. This one was a headache, mostly due to my own lack of planning, and the fact that I lost the file for... basically everything I did, including the above illustration. So it was a bit of a rush job.

The background bots started off as these very vague silhouettes, which I'm a little proud of. Look at how nice and somewhat readable they are! Okay, now what if I ruined it? What? You don't like that? That's rather unfortunate, because that's what I proceeded to do. In fact, if I take off all.. 10 or something adjustment layers, they look like this:

My process went: Shadow block> Fill rest of form> Color randomiser> Copy and skew (to populate background)> Hue adjustment> Gradient map> Fill Light> Chromatic aberration> Vignette> Levels> Curves.

The.... Magenta cube is there because due to the nature of the color randomiser, the foot had a high value, and stuck out like nobody's business in the end.

Here's what it would look like without the cube. Begone, distracting white blob! (I didn't have to worry about the lava arm because Percy happened to cover it up. What a save! But if he didn't then... there would have been a second cube.)

Basically, it was a mess. But... at least it came out fine in the end! I hope!

I'd love to have speedpaints on hand, but I was switching between CSP and PS for a good majority of the work.

I'd say that's it for these two pieces! I actually have more, but those demand more time. I'm much slower at doing inks than I am at painting, but I hope you'll get to see them soon.

[blingblong55]

Claimed hearts- John Price NSFW

kinktober day 15

Based on a request: Hi! For kinktober, may I please request no.2 (smut)? Queen F!Reader x King!Price - both from different kingdoms was arranged for marriage. Reader was a bit reluctant with the proposition but goes on with it, while it has been Price’s plan all along. A bit of enemy to lovers vibe along side of stalker-ish/obsessed behaviour from Price. Thank you ☺️ ---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, P-in-V, unprotected!sex, power play, queen!reader, king!price, sexual!tension ----

The heavy doors close behind you, and silence drapes the room, thick with tense anticipation. There’s a pause—neither of you moves, though the air between you crackles with something charged, like the stillness before a storm.

Price stands there, impossibly composed, and yet there’s something fierce and raw lurking beneath that calm. His eyes, dark and keen, seem to map out every inch of you, as though assessing how to dismantle your resolve. In his gaze, you sense an intention—a fixation that makes you feel as though he’s not just watching you; he’s unravelling you, piece by piece.

“You can put on a brave face all you want,” he murmurs, taking a deliberate step toward you, “but we both know you’ve already surrendered.”

The words send a flush to your skin, though you narrow your eyes at him. “You think you know me?” you challenge, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays you. “You may have orchestrated this, but I’m no pawn, Price.”

His mouth curves into a slow, infuriating smirk, a look that leaves you teetering between fury and… something else. Something that leaves you breathless, that keeps you frozen as he crosses the remaining distance between you.

“Is that so?” he drawls, his voice dangerously soft. His fingers find a strand of your hair, brushing it aside with a gentleness that feels startlingly out of place. “Because I’d wager that deep down, you wanted this too—whether you’ll admit it or not.”

Your breath hitches as his hand trails, almost possessively, down your jawline. There’s a warmth to his touch that sends heat rushing through you, even as you try to resist it. But he’s close now, and the scent of him—a blend of leather, tobacco, and something unmistakably his—fogs your thoughts, blurring the line between defiance and a gnawing, undeniable pull.

“Tell me, then,” he murmurs, his voice coaxing yet edged with command. “Why did you agree to this marriage? Why did you choose to walk into my hands?”

The question is disarming, but his words are layered with an understanding that cuts through your defences. You open your mouth to respond, but he beats you to it, his voice a low, tantalizing whisper. “Because, my love, you knew this was inevitable. You knew you were mine long before you stepped through those doors.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and the truth of it, spoken so plainly, unsettles you. But there’s no room for denial as he cups your chin, lifting your face to his. The rough pad of his thumb brushes over your lower lip, and his gaze flickers with a restrained hunger that sends your pulse racing.

“You can fight it all you like,” he says softly, “but we both know where this leads.”

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in the faintest ghost of a kiss—a warning and a promise. You’re dizzy with the weight of it, with the way his presence seems to seep into you, claiming parts of you you’d long thought unyielding. His voice, dark and possessive, fills the space between you as he whispers, “I will have you, heart and soul.”

A shiver of anticipation threads through you, and you realize, perhaps too late, that you’re no longer the reluctant bride. Against all odds, he’s drawn you in, ensnared you with a touch, a look, a mere whisper of his intentions. And with his breath hot against your skin, you can almost feel the surrender waiting on your lips.

The silence stretches as he pulls back, his smirk unwavering as his eyes hold yours with an intensity that leaves you weak. And just before he steps away, his voice reaches you, low and unshakable. “You’re mine. Remember that.” Price's words linger in the air, a pronouncement that seems to echo in the stillness of the chamber. Your heart pounds in your ears, a staccato rhythm that matches the sudden rush of heat coursing through your veins. For a moment, you're rendered speechless, your mind reeling from the sheer audacity of his declaration.

But you're no stranger to defiance, and as he steps back, you find your voice, though it emerges shakier than you'd like. "I'm no one's," you retort, lifting your chin in a show of stubborn pride. "And I won't be tamed by you or anyone else."

Price's smirk only deepens, a glint of amusement sparking in his eyes. "Still playing the rebel, I see," he remarks, his tone rich with mocking affection. "But we both know that's just a facade, don't we?"

He moves closer again, his presence overwhelming, his scent enveloping you like a heady cloud. You feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he leans in, the proximity making your senses riot. "You can deny it all you want, but your body tells a different story," he murmurs, his gaze dropping pointedly to your lips.

Your breath catches, and you're suddenly acutely aware of the way your skin tingles wherever he looks, as though his eyes alone can ignite a fire within you. You want to argue, to push him away, but the words stick in your throat as he trails a finger along your jawline, his touch searing.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Price," you manage, though the warning lacks conviction. Your voice is barely above a whisper, betraying the effect he has on you. "One that you might not win."

His low chuckle sends a shiver down your spine, and he leans in closer, his lips a hairsbreadth from yours. "Oh, I don't plan to lose," he breathes, his voice a husky murmur that stirs something deep within you. "And you, my dear, are the prize I intend to claim."

Price's words hang in the air, a challenge and a promise all at once. The space between you feels electric, charged with a tension that threatens to snap at any moment. Your heart races, your skin prickling with anticipation as he leans in, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"You think you can claim me so easily?" you breathe, though the defiance in your voice is wavering. His closeness is intoxicating, his presence overwhelming in a way that makes your head spin.

"Oh, I know it won't be easy," he murmurs, his lips brushing yours in a feather-light touch that sends sparks racing through you. "But nothing worth having ever is."

His hand slides up your arm, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You shiver, your breath catching as he cups your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. The gentleness of his touch belies the hunger in his eyes, a hunger that threatens to consume you whole.

"You can't deny the pull between us," he whispers, his voice low and rough with desire. "I see it in your eyes, feel it in how your body responds to mine."

He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, possessing you in a way that leaves you dizzy with want. You moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, desperate for more.

His hands roam your body, mapping every curve and valley as he deepens the kiss. You're lost in a haze of sensation, your mind reeling from the intensity of his passion. He breaks away, leaving you panting and flushed, your lips swollen from his attentions.

"Tell me you want this," he demands, his gaze boring into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. "Tell me you're mine, body and soul."

You hesitate momentarily, your pride warring with the desire that courses through your veins. But as he leans in once more, his lips hovering over yours, you know there's no escape.

"I'm yours," you breathe out. The air crackles with electricity as Price's lips claim yours again, his kiss hungry and demanding. His hands roam your body with urgency, mapping every curve and dip as if memorizing your form. You moan into his mouth, your fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. You gasp, your head falling back as he marks you, claiming you as his own. His hands slip under your shirt, calloused fingers skimming over your heated flesh, igniting a fire wherever they touch.

"You're so responsive," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "I can feel how much you want this."

His hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. You arch into his touch, craving more of his attention. He obliges, sliding your bra straps down your shoulders and exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, before taking one nipple into his mouth. You cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he suckles and teases the sensitive bud. His hand massages your other breast, kneading the soft flesh until you're writhing beneath him.

He trails kisses down your stomach, his fingers making quick work of your pants. You lift your hips, allowing him to slide them down your legs, leaving you bare before him. His eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your slick, glistening folds.

"So wet for me already," he rasps, his fingers parting your folds, teasing your entrance. "I knew you'd be tight, but this…this is unexpected."

He circles your clit with his thumb, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. You buck against his hand, desperate for more, but he holds you in place, his grip firm on your hips.

"Patience," he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take my time with you, savour every inch of your delicious body."

Price's words send a shiver down your spine, your core clenching with anticipation. He positions himself between your thighs, the heat of his body enveloping you. You reach for him, your hands sliding over his broad shoulders, down his muscular arms.

"Please," you whisper, your voice thick with need. "I want you inside me."

He smiles, a wicked gleam in his eye as he reaches down, gripping his hard length. He teases your entrance with the head of his cock, the contact sending sparks of pleasure racing through you. You moan, your hips lifting in a silent plea for more.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, he sinks into you, stretching you, filling you in a way you've never experienced before. You cry out, your nails digging into his back as he hilts himself inside you.

"Fuck," he groans, his head falling forward, resting against yours. "You feel incredible." He starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, your walls clenching around him, drawing him deeper. You meet his movements, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer.

The room fills with the sound of skin against skin, the scent of sex mingling with the heady aroma of his cologne. He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he drives into you, his pace quickening, his breath coming in harsh pants against your ear. "Come for me," he growls, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. "I want to feel you come undone around my cock."

His words, combined with the relentless pressure of his fingers and the delicious stretch of his length inside you, send you careening over the edge. You come with a cry, your walls clamping down around him, milking his length. He follows you, his hips stuttering as he spills himself inside you, his seed filling you, marking you as his. You cling to each other, your bodies trembling with the aftershocks of your shared release.

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