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wandaslittlepsycho · 8 months ago

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Precious

pairing: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢!𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 ༝༝ 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: your bunny slips through the crack of your front door and you run after her in hopes of catching the pet again. You get lost but your time still ticks, nightfall inching closer and closer as you inevitably sink further into the woods. Luckily, your eyes spot a cabin, and you become acquaintances with the unusual redhead that resides there.

warnings: dubcon, filthy smutty smut smut, HEAVYYYY dacryphilia, groping, dry humping, praise kink, thigh riding (r receiving), mid writing, wanda is lowkey a sadist, slightly unhinged crazy yet loveable and sexy cabin wanda, age gap > r is 20 w is 32

A/N: first fic!!! hi… im very new to writing fics so please be nice ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა (i wrote this listening to a true crime documentary idk)

kind of a messy plot but I still hope my little freaks enjoy…… and I’m also sorry this took longer than expected I just kept contemplating if it was good or absolute shit </3

this is a dark fic. 18+. wlw. men & minors dni!

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

It’s getting pretty late…

You think to yourself, hugging your shoulders as you look up at the overcast sky.

How did I end up here in the first place?

✦

You move a leaf to the side and pick the fresh strawberry that was stashed there, rinsing it in your small bucket of water and taking a mouthful of the delicious treat.

You hear a shuffle beside you. Turning your head, you see a white bunny hiding behind one of your sunflower pots. You smile and place another strawberry onto the ground before slowly walking away. Your eyes relish how cute the little animal is as they chomp away at your colourful fruit.

You stand in the corner of your garden and decide from then on, you’d feed the hungry bunnies that would stroll into your neighbourhood.

A few days pass and you quickly became friends with two specific bunnies who you named Clover and Daisy. You eventually took them in as your own, rottenly spoiling both of the creatures. You loved having them around because living alone in a small town that was an hour away from the city can definitely become lonely.

“This tastes like candy to you doesn’t it Daisy?” You say as you hold out your hand and watch her nibble it up. The fur around her mouth is stained purple, you laugh at the sight.

“Okay that’s enough blueberries for tonight! You’ll get sick if you keep eating those.” You click the plastic container shut, standing up and walking into your kitchen. You place the container in the side compartment of your fridge for tomorrow and stroll back into your living room.

Your brows furrow. Daisy is gone. Daisy and Clover are such good bunnies, they never leave your sight for more than a minute. You assume she ran to her sister Clover, but your eyes widen in horror when you see your front door slightly more cracked open than it was before you left.

You anxiously open your phone and dial your best friend Frankie. You ramble to her about how stupid you felt for leaving the door open, like you are an irresponsible parent who’s no smarter than a bag of rocks. She calmly tells you to go look for Daisy and that she’ll come over as soon as she can to watch Clover.

“Thank you so so much, Frankie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You sigh in relief, a hand pressed over your chest. You feel your heart jump underneath your palm and your lips trembling with every breath.

“It’s no problem, Y/N/N. Now go look for that bunny, I’ll be over in 5.”

“Bye, thank you again..” You hang up the phone and dart out the door. You frantically look through your shrubs and call her name, but a bright white spot in your peripheral steals your attention.

There she is, bouncing her way into the open forest across the road from you. As soon as she hops out of your view you race towards her, carelessly running past two moving cars. You ignore the frustrated yelling and the beeping horns, continuing to boost into daisies direction.

“DAISY! WAIT!!”

You yell, but your shouting only seems to spur her on. You run after her and neither of you lose pace. You turn corners, run through mud and almost slip doing so at least two times. The animal suddenly picks up it’s speed, turning abruptly and disappearing into a thick bush. You get on your knees and practically rip this bush to shreds, but she was already long gone. Daisy is no more.

You feel tears sting your eyes, ears and cheeks becoming hot from your stress. You sniffle and wipe your tears with the sleeve of your jacket. You knew it was impossible to look for her now. That bunny became your life in just a couple of days, she felt like a childhood pet. The thought of never seeing her again made your heartstrings tie themselves into knots.

You lose the path you were on but you couldn’t care less. You lost your beloved bunny baby; life is no longer worth living. You wonder if Clover’s okay, and how exactly you’d break the news to her.

So lost and full of woe, mind not even switched on, you didn’t notice the thick tree root in front of you until you stub your foot against it and fall forward. You wince and slowly stand up again. Dusting the crunchy leaves off of your clothes, you use the back of your hand to wipe the dripping bead of blood from your cheekbone.

Great, a cut. I’ll have to clean that up when I get home..

You wonder aimlessly with your head hung low. A brisk breeze that brushes past you is what makes you finally look up.

You hug your shoulders as you stare at the gloomy airspace. The sun isn’t beaming, only a variation of different grey clouds flood the sky.

A person? This far out on in the woods?

Wanda thinks. She watches you with a deranged, curious look as you weave yourself through the webs and bushes, seemingly extra careful about tree roots.

You look up from the ground, scanning the area around you and pause when you see the warm glow of her cabin.

My god, she’s gorgeous.

She takes a swift step back so she’s not in the frame of the window anymore, her brows furrowing. She stares at the wall, she hasn’t seen an actual person in so long.

What is a girl like you doing traipsing in the woods?

She peeks again and now you’re making your way over, big wary eyes cautiously examining your surroundings. A shiver rocks through you as you cough into your elbow, then using that arm to place three firm knocks on the door.

You sigh while you wait for someone to answer the door. You switch from tippy toes to the heel of your feet in a nervous manner. The cabin looks great, almost pristine, there’s no way it’s abandoned.

You feel stupid for going into a cabin in the woods. It’s like some dumb movie; you’re just hoping you don’t end up dead. You expect to see an old, wrinkled man the size of a third grader, but your eyes widen when a tall red headed woman swings the door open. You stutter, stunned that a woman like her would live in a place so isolated.

Holy shit, she’s fine.

“Hi, um.. I know it’s a lot to ask but can I stay here for a little bit? I… got lost.” You fiddle with your fingers. She chuckles as she crosses her arms, biting her lip and letting her eyes run up and down your fidgety figure.

“No it’s not asking anything at all. It’s not like I get visitors very often.” She moves to the side and welcomes you in. You look up at her and mumble a small thank you, slowly stepping inside her warm homestead.

The smell of firewood burning and sweet lavender conquer your senses. The comforting atmosphere relaxes you despite how unfamiliar it is. You kick off your boots and grab them so you can neatly place them next to the door. She shuts the door and clicks it locked, quietly making her way over to what looks like her kitchen.

You drink in the sight around you. A tall, cobblestone fireplace lined up against the wall with wood already burning inside of it. A soft lounge suite with a fluffy mat sitting right underneath it. There’s a short hallway and two doors, one you assume leading into her bedroom and the other probably being her bathroom.

One thing you notice in particular is a painting, one with two women sitting on a red velvet couch. One is dressed in white, the other is dressed in black and they both have lace blindfolds wrapped around their heads.

Their Victorian dresses were detailed and long, their lips so close but afraid to touch and give in.

You look away and clench your fists. Your face is now hot, when you entered a remote cabin in the woods, a gay victorian painting was the last thing you expected.

“Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” The woman’s hoarse voice echoes through the room. Your ears perk up when they catch a touch of an accent.

Is she some type of Russian? That’s hot.

Your anxious form shifts over to her couch to sit down. You sigh in relief, your aching bones melting into the man made cloud that was this woman’s sofa.

“So what’s your name, milaya?” The woman hands you a cup. Your cold fingers feel fuzzy against the hot mug, shuffling back further into her couch so you can sit up comfortably.

“Y/N. You?”

“Wanda.”

A small smile sits on her face that is on some level, disturbing. It’s such a beautiful smile but you can feel something is not right with her. Your intuition has never made itself more distinct, it was less noticeable when you were walking alone outside.

The room feels like it’s getting smaller, the claustrophobia whips the air right out of your lungs. Your eyes flicker between hers. The room starts to spin. Your ears start to ring. Before you could pass out cold, she cups your chin, the gentle gesture pulling you out of your panicked state.

“That’s a nasty cut isn’t it? Would you like me to take care of that?” She says, her tone coaxing. Your curious eyes linger on her,

Why is this stranger being so generous?

If someone entered your home and needed to stay the night, you’d tell them to get lost. She caresses your face softly while she stares at the wound.

“No it’s oka-“ She suddenly pushes a finger to the fresh cut, forcing you to wince and pull away from her. She looks at you in a way you can’t describe, your reaction seemingly piqueing her interest. Her pupils dilate but not enough for you to notice. You look at her with fearful eyes and think to yourself,

Who would do that?

“Actually, that would be nice. Thank you..”

Your eyes switch between the steaming drink in your hand and the obviously unhinged redhead sitting next to you. Her aura is intimidating, but you convince yourself it’s paranoia.

I’m in a remote cabin deep in the woods.

Who wouldn’t be unsettled? She’s nice and she helped you…stop being dumb Y/N!

“Thank you again for cleaning my cut, Wanda.” You try to strike up a conversation, but all you’re met with is painful silence. She watches your lips touch the ring of the porcelain teacup, then moving her eyes up to meet your own.

“You’re very observant aren’t you?” You refer to her endless stare, disguising your discomfort with a small chuckle. Her smile widens.

"Fascinuješ ma, miláčik.” “You fascinate me, darling.”

Your brows squeeze together. You wish you could understand what she said, but it felt rude asking her to repeat that in English. You result in shyly looking away and focus on your dangling feet.

Her hand occasionally runs down your back or strokes your arm. Her icy featherlight touches cause goosebumps to ride over your skin. She notices your eyes following her fingers, a mischief smirk hiking up her cheeks.

“You’re so lucky I’m here to help you, dear. What was a girl like you doing in the woods all alone?” Her hand lands on your knee, slowly climbing up closer to your heat and lightly massaging the flesh there. You squirm when she inches closer to your mound, but you’re in her home. She could do anything to you if you said something that upset her.

What if she’s just being nice? I don’t want to offend her…

“I- uh- I was hunting?” You try to paint yourself as tough but fail spectacularly; you can tell by the way she squints her eyes when she hears your answer.

“If that were true, you’d have hunting gear on you, sweetie.” She moves your hair to the other side of your neck to expose the milky skin there. She gawks at your neck like a predator creeping on her prey, ready to pounce on you at any given moment.

The thought of kissing and licking at your silky skin and the vivid image of you biting your plush pink lips made her tremble with desire.

You shrink, staring at the drink in your hands and feeling a strike of vulnerability as you quietly say the words, “I was chasing a bunny..”

“Aww aren’t you precious?” She praises. She toys with the soft threads of your hair, your cheeks glowing a rosy pink from her comment. Her hand squeezes your thigh more roughly, the unexpected act making you jump.

“Such a pretty thing.” She whispers to herself. You don’t catch her words, so you hum and tilt your head, showing your confusion in hopes she would repeat herself.

“Oh… nothing.” She quickly replaces her shock with a crooked grin. Your lips stretch into a small and nervous smile, slowly putting the cup to your mouth again.

A few more moments of silence are present. The crackling of burning wood and the crickets chirping in the distance gave you a chance to finally breathe, although you still struggle to ignore her invasive presence.

“Put the drink down.” You look at her in surprise. You stutter, taken aback by her orders but don’t dare ask any questions. You lick your lips and shuffle, leaning forward to sit the drink on her coffee table. You then move back against the couch and stare into the orange flames in front of you.

“Do you like when people are rough with you, angel?”

You freeze hearing her question. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear ever so gently, grinning when she sees the sheer terror written on your face. There was something eerie about the way she had asked you, a corrupted little twinkle beaming from her eyes.

“Well, no.. N-Not really why?” Your voice is shaking. You know for sure now that this woman is not in her right mind. She could be capable of doing anything and you wouldn’t expect it. She flashes you a charming smile as she continues to twirl and play with your hair, leaning closer to you before whispering,

“Can I tell you a secret?” Your breath hitches softly and your body tenses at the close proximity. You refuse to look at her. You cement your eyes to the flickering fire in front of you. Her hand smoothly travels from your thigh to the zip of your corduroy jacket, slowly pulling down at the metal teeth to reveal your white v-neck shirt and ruby necklace. The sound of your zipper in the unsettling silence makes your skin crawl. You could almost hear the ominous, suspenseful background music. You don’t know what would happen if you deny her, so you hesitantly nod your head.

“I like hurting people… Especially pretty toys like you. I haven’t done it in a long time though.” Her eyes hungrily take in your chilled expression. You gulp when she pulls the jacket off of your shoulders and throws to the side.

“I love to see girls cry, tears running down their sweet little faces…” Her hands rub your upper arms soothingly as she rubbed her nose into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent. You found yourself unable to move or respond, giving in to her game and listening to her sick train of thought.

“Can I make you cry, please, sweet girl?” She mumbles into your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your breathing becomes heavier, needing her so very badly you start to tune out the blaring alarms in your head.

“Wanda listen-” She moves on top of you. She situates herself between your legs giving you no chance to close them, running her hands up and down your thighs. It all happened so fast.

“Pretty please? You’d look so good..” She becomes breathless at the thought, lunging forward and forcefully pushing her lips onto yours. Her lips feel pillowy and soft against yours, she smells of sweet vanilla and a smoky but subtle cinnamon; the mix makes your brain go dizzy with want. She tangles her hands with yours so she can pin your frantic ones onto the couch. Butterflies dance in your stomach, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Her kiss is rough but somehow so soft at the same time, the conflicted feeling makes your heart flutter.

She puts all her body weight onto you, grinding her crotch into yours as she murmurs praises into your mouth. “You’re so fucking cute,” “It’s gonna feel so so good, just let me touch you..”

She slides her tongue across your lip, silently telling you to open your mouth. She angrily tightens her grip on your hands when you groan and clench your jaw shut, forbidding her access.

“Open your mouth, or I’ll find another way to make it stay open.” You whine quietly, slowly opening your mouth and letting her slide in. You whimper and squirm when her hands land on your hips, guiding you to grind against her knee.

“There you go, so so pretty grinding on me like that..” You grab handfuls of her sweater, the fabric of your cotton panties rubbing against you creating the perfect friction. You softly moan her name, back arching while hiding your face in her neck, ashamed how riled up you are from being taken advantage of. One of her hands move from your hip to your thigh, exploring the rest of your body before snaking up your stomach to grope at your breasts.

“Fuck,” She whimpers before biting down on your lip. She twists and teases your nipples between her fingers, feasting on the sight of your pathetic writhing.

“Wanda!” Your movements against her thigh become more frantic, so blissed out you couldn’t care about how needy and dumb you must look.

Your hands advance to her biceps, clutching onto her as you try reach the high you so deeply crave. Your heart thuds in your chest, sweat glistening on your forehead and gasping for air. Your tears soak her shirt, hating yourself for giving in to her but also not willing to stop.

“Cum, make a mess for me bunny..” Her hand grabs your chin and holds it still. You foolishly kept trying to turn your head, but your actions cease when her hand moves from your chin to wrap around your throat.

“Look at me when you cum.” She forces her face impossibly closer to yours, jutting out her jaw and admiring the sparkling tears falling from your eyes. Her breathing becomes ragged listening to your whines and sobs, the throb between her legs intensifying.

“I don’t want to..”

“I don’t care if you want to or not. I won’t let you move until you do.”

Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll to the back of your head, her cruel words somehow pushing you over the edge. Everything becomes white, your thighs shake and your body tenses. Waves of pleasure crash down on you, the euphoric feeling pulsing through you from head to toe.

She eagerly watches you fall apart from your first climax, knowing that she’s not even halfway done with you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes struggling to stay open and arms spread over the couch.

She carefully pushes her knee further into your pussy, your pleas and protests only making her more excited for what she plans next.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, angel.”

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

#elizabeth olsen #wlw #sapphic #wanda maximoff #lesbian #idk man #mommy wanda #elizabeth olsen x reader #lizzie olsen #dark wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #dark wanda maximoff #wandaslittlepsycho #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #elizabeth olsen x y/n

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jj-one · 1 year ago

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SALTY & SWEET 🥣

pairing: established relationship, nerdy bf!dom!Jungkook x gf!reader, jk is around 21/22 in this genre/tags: smut, (some) fluff, angst, degradation, praise kink, oral (m receiving), facef*cking, food play, c*m play, c*m eating, use of word daddy (once) words: 981

**old repost from my deleted blog

Oh you sad, sad little thing… always finding yourself in these compromising situations. The whole morning went as normal with Jungkook, he was super nice to you and smothered you with lots of loving kisses! But once he arrived back home from classes his entire mood shifted completely.

“Get on your knees, wanna use that pretty little mouth of yours right now.” Jungkook was hovering over you as you sat down.

You were just minding your business on the couch eating a bowl of strawberries when he said that to you.

“W-what?” Your eyes bug out of your head like a deer in headlights.

“Did I stutter? On your knees NOW!” His voice becomes more stern.

You squirm to get up, not wanting to waste another minute incase he gets angrier. Your body feels shaky from his intimidating persona, he usually comes off as sweet and caring but when he’s mad he becomes almost sadistic.

It didn’t take long for him to end up down your throat. All 7 inches of him being taken by you. You kept choking and gagging but the more you did it the more Jungkook would just keep pushing your head back down. His fingers latching onto your hair and thrusting his hips harder to get more of his cock deeper in your throat.

“C’mon, you can take it like the little pathetic slut you are. You’re my precious little pup right?”

His words made you so fucking wet for him.

You wanted to please him in the best way you could. Bobbing your head back and forth, his spit combined with your saliva all over your face. Jungkook likes it messy though, he also loves shooting his load out on your face after a long day. You acted like nothing but a toy for him to use, just a fuckdoll he can manipulate and dump all his cum into when he’s frustrated.

His glasses were sliding down to his nose as he keeps lowering his head to get a finer view of you. Your fucked out face was so angelic to him, so divine… you looked the most beautiful when you had Jungkook’s cock buried in your mouth.

“There atta-girl… such a good little slut for me aren’t you?” The way he talks to you will be your true weakness.

You had to prove your love to him. Your devotion. You wanted his cum as a reward so you had to work hard for it and push through the pain. You try humming to loosen up your vocal cords and take him better, the vibrations sent chills up his spine and he almost lost his balance for a second. Feeling the way he throbbed and twitched on your tongue made you moan against his shaft.

“Fuck yeah… good girl my good little fucking princess…”

You kept letting him throatfuck you and the tears came rolling down now. He loved seeing you become a crying fucked out mess for him, it filled his heart with the utmost joy.

“Aww.. my darling’s getting teary eyed, can’t take all of it huh??”

Your jaw hurts so bad but you can’t stop now, you have only one goal to achieve and that was to make your boyfriend cum all over your pretty face. His cock slammed into your uvula and you made a loud gagging noise, he would just grin and keep pushing hisself in you relentlessly. He laughed at your misery, the way your knees buckled and quivered while being under him.

He wouldn’t be laughing for too much longer though, one more thrust to the back of your throat would leave him nearly unable to talk. His body felt paralyzed. Eyes were violently rolling to the back of his head as he feels his release approaching. He jerks his hips back and quickly pulls out of your mouth. He doesn’t bring his cock to your face though, instead his attention is drawn to the bowl of strawberries you were eating from earlier.

He stands in front of it on the couch and viciously strokes his cock, large white ropes of cum come trickling down onto the fresh strawberries. Once he finishes he looks back at you now with an evil grin.

“Get on all fours for me doll.” He instructs you.

You do as you’re told, getting on your hands and knees, crawling your way towards him. He takes ones of the strawberries— that are now all coated with his hot delicious cum and brings it to your lips.

“Open wide.”

You open your mouth and he plops the strawberry in, you immediately close your mouth to start chewing. The strawberry was so sweet and juicy while Jungkook’s cum was warm and salty, this might be the perfect combination you’ve ever tried.

“Taste’s good right princess?”

You nod your head and finally speak “Yes, so yummy daddy, want to eat more!”

“Then go ahead, eat more.”

You dip your face in the bowl of strawberries and eat another one. You can’t get over how good his cum tastes with the savory fruit. He pets the top of your head like you were a kitten, just grinning at the sight of you eagerly eating his cum.

“Such a naughty little girl… you really are a huge slut.” He degrades you more, wrapping his hand around your neck as he lifts you from being on all fours.

You’re back on your knees again facing him while he kept a tight grip on you. The way this man had you so down bad for him, you were willing to let him do absolutely anything to satisfy his needs. Your body couldn’t stop trembling under his touch, he had you perfectly the way he wanted.

“Still look so pretty, even after sucking off my cock..” his hold on you was only getting tighter at this point.

“So obedient for me, always.”

#jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagine #bts x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook drabble #jungkook x female reader

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a-hazbin-reader · 1 year ago

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Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Extreme Fluff!! Sweet Intimacy!!! A little canon cannibalism

Description: Different ways Alastor likes to be pampered by Wifey!Reader

When it comes to his wifey...Alastor is super spoiled and he knows it, craves it like nothing ever before

He's a glutton for your attention and everyone knows it

Every little act of kindness, every drop of affection and loving gaze just melts over his (shriveled black)heart like a sugary glaze

Mmmmmm glazed hearts

Great now he's hungry

ANYWAYS-

Even the normal everyday things make him feel warm and fuzzy inside

Like when you bring him his favorite tea in the mornings, giving him a soft kiss on the side of his face as you drape your arms around him

"Mm...good morning my dear..."

Or when you smooth over an unruly hair for him or fix his bow tie before he leaves the hotel

You can't have your snookums going out looking like some scruffy strawberry clown

You always make sure his staff is clean and polished, suit flawless and pressed, shoes shiny before he has an overlord meeting

You're NOT going to let your pookie bear hang around the other overlords with smudged shoes

Just. No.

Loves the days that you drag him off to the bathroom to coax him into a hot bath

"You've been so tense lately... let me take care of you..."

How can he say no to you?

He just relaxes and closes his eyes, letting your gentle fingers massage his scalp as you lather shampoo in his hair

The candles and bubbles 🫧 were a good touch too 👌

He almost always falls asleep by the time you're done massaging and cleaning him up, once you start scrubbing under his nails then he's OUT LIKE A LIGHT

Not that you mind, he's so attractive when he's sleeping

WAIT HUSBAND DON'T DROWN

Wakes up to an empty bathtub and a warm towel being wrapped around him by his delicious boo

You're so good to him how did you know he needed this

Always finds himself in a better mood after that, like his problems have all been washed and scrubbed away by your gentle pampering

He secretly loves it when you come by his radio tower with a fresh lunch, interrupting his set just because he needs to eat

Though he pretends it's a big hassle

He savors the food you bring him either way, walking you to the door afterwards and thanking you for thinking of him

Bby boy that's all you do is think about him

He locks the door on your way out tho

Alastor loves the way you convince him to come to bed with you, knowing he needs to sleep but also armed with the knowledge that he'll fight bedtime like a child

You leaning on the doorway already in your sleep attire, giving him a soft pout as he tries to continue his work and ignore you

"Alastor..."

Not his ears flicking up at the sound of your voice

When whining doesn't work, then you slink your way over to him, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at you

He's trying so hard not to though, the moment he looks at your face then he knows he's done for

"Look at me, darling~"

Okay maybe just a quick glance-

Alastor you are a strong man, you are cruel and sadistic and you are an overlord with very important business!! You can handle telling your wife no-

Ffffffffuck.

Not the gooey goo goo doe eyes

Immediately leans into your touch, savoring the feeling of your fingers stroking his cheek

Not his tail fluttering

"Come to bed already~ I can't sleep without you, you know..."

And that's how you convince him to get to sleep every single night, a full 8 hours or whatever is recommended in Hell

Getting out of bed is hard for him because you look so delectable asleep and curled into him

Maybe he should take more time to pamper you too

But he's a selfish, greedy man who likes being spoiled by his wife so that thought is gone as fast as it came

He gets out of bed just to watch you whine and blindly reach out for him, so adorably pathetic

Okay just five more minutes of snuggles then I gotta go-

If he's cranky then you manage to convince him to nap, patting your lap and stroking his hair once he lays his head down

Your soft singing lulls him into a light sleep as you scratch and rub the ends of his ears

Wakes up drooling

Wakes up with his face buried in your stomach, arms locked around your waist as he sleepily breathes in your scent

How is he supposed to get any work done with you around????

Alastor loves all those things but his favorite way that you spoil him?? His number one fave?? That he would never admit to anyone??

When you give him your special smile, the one that's always been his to see and his alone

The smile that conveys enough warmth and love to make all of Hell seem like Heaven, at least for him anyways

The same smile that he first saw when you told him that you loved him, the same smile that tells him you still love him

You spoil him

Alastor thinking of his wife:

#alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor being whipped!! Yes #wifey being whipped!!! YES #The deer himself getting spoiled??#YES #does he deserve it???#...no...#do we want it????#??#y-yes?

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kitasgloves · 6 months ago

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Zero idea if its been asked already but can you do a Dazai x innocent golden retriever gf, i just know that man has the biggest corruption kink

alright folks we're back at it again!

— ♬ NSFW

As I have stated previously in a drabble, I'd like to think DAZAI OSAMU can get sweetly sadistic with an innocent/golden retriever type of gf. He views your purity and naivety as a sweet little treat for him to feast on and devour. You have the most sparkling personality that rivals the sun. And Dazai is greedy, he likes to keep sucking in your warm innocence until you run dry.

He adores your enthusiasm and free thinking. You're like a breath of fresh air with the way you smile and cling to him. Dazai's ego inflates when you praise him for how clever and knowledgeable he is about various things. Sometimes, he'd treat you like a little kid and talk to you like you're a toddler, cooing about how you're too naive for the world.

This bitch would tease the fuck out of you. He likes to make you pout and hear you whine. He'd make fun of every little thing about you. Your massive height difference, the way you snort when you laugh, and every silly habit you have, he'd pick on it all. Dazai can get obsessive with tracking all your likes and dislikes. He probably keeps a little notebook with lists like your favorite flavors, most hated dating spots, the books you found interesting, the brands of your underwear, etc. This mf keeps track of everything and keeps receipts so it's impossible to keep a secret from him.

Speaking of secrets, Dazai knows every told and untold secret about you. He loves to get into your personal space. He wants to know what makes you laugh until you cry, what makes you blow a fuse, what makes you blush like a strawberry, and especially what makes you cry in pleasure. The brunette would gaslight himself into thinking he's not that cruel. No, he's a sweet and loving boyfriend who adores his bright girlfriend! Yep, he just wants to corrupt your innocence, it's not that cruel, right?

"Hghh—Oh—Osamu—"

"Stay still for me"

He whispers against your ear. Dazai leans back to admire your naked and sweaty figure on the bed, your hands gripping the sheets, your legs spread apart, and his limber fingers fucking deep into you. He chuckles as he watches you turn away with a flushed face as he fingerfucks your wet cunt. The squelching sound of his fingers curling in and out of your pussy filled the room. The way you were so reactive with every movement of his fingers made his pants tight.

"Look at you, sucking in my fingers like a greedy little whore"

"...I'm not—ah!"

You go crossed-eyed when he brushes against that special spot inside of you again. Dazai pulls his fingers out to hear you whimper. He's been at it for an hour now, fingerfucking you only to pull away when he can feel you coming close. Tears have been already rolling down your cheeks with how much you plead for him to make you cum already. Dazai smiles darkly as he goes to caress your breasts before delivering a sharp slap on your cunt.

You flinch and shuddered in pleasure when that delicious stinging sensation stimulates your clit. He slaps your pussy a couple of times until it turns puffy.

"Osamu, please!"

"Please what? Come on, use your words, honey"

"Please make me cum already!"

"Hmm, I don't know. Do you deserve it?"

A cruel smile spreads on your boyfriend's lips as more tears begin escaping your glassy eyes. You looked so precious and pathetic begging for him to make you cum that he almost loses his restraint. His hand goes to grab your jaw before sneering down at you.

"Does a slut like you deserve to cum?"

You sobbed and nodded frantically. He clicks his tongue.

"Answer me properly"

"Yes! Please, I'll be good!"

Fortunately, Dazai grants you mercy as he slips his fingers back inside of you again. You throw your head back and moan when he starts to rapidly finger you. Your vision goes blurry as you struggled to catch your breath with how deep and fast his skilled fingers was fucking you. The brunette watched you with unblinking eyes as he felt your juices trailing from his fingers down to his wrists. The way you clenched around his fingers as your moans went up into an octave signaled an overwhelming orgasm from you.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Osamu—"

Dazai watched breathlessly as your release crashed down on you with you gushing around his fingers. He holds his breath as you squirt immensely during your orgasm. He tries to bring out more by rubbing your clit which makes you overstimulated as your eyes rolled back. The moment you regain your vision and catch your breath, you realize that you have stained the sheets and your boyfriend is staring at you hungrily.

The next thing you knew, Dazai was hastily slipping off his pants and aligning his cock with your wet entrance. You try to push him back, telling him you're too tired for another round but he dismisses you by shoving his cock inside your cunt. Dazai's eyes almost rolled back with how tight and wet you felt. Immediately, he grabs your hips and sets a brutal pace.

"Hah—sl-slow down! Shit, I can't—"

"Shut the fuck up and take my cock like the pathetic slut you are"

He grins devilishly when you are unable to reply with how your jaw is slack and how drool is seeping down your lips. Dazai keeps aiming his cock deep until it bruises your cervix, every thrust violently rips out the oxygen from your lungs. You looked perfectly fucked out. His sweet innocent girlfriend is fucked dumb by his cock. Your hair was tangled, your cheeks were flushed, and your eyes were glassy.

Your boyfriend keeps pounding into you, mindlessly reveling in his pleasure as he used you like a fucking sex toy. Eventually, you begin to clench around him again but he decides to slow down his pace. You stare at him wide-eyed before your lip begins to wobble.

"Aww, were you going to cum again?"

Dazai teases. You hiccuped as you started to sob.

"You have to make me cum first, slut"

The brunette switches the position with him lying down and you on top of him. He was ordering you to bounce on his dick and make him cum. Eager to please him and reach your release, your steadied your thighs and began bouncing on his cock.

"Hah! Fuck, you look like you're made to bounce on my cock"

He muses. Dazai watched as your ass slapped against his thighs. The tip of his dick kept kissing the deepest part within you. He watched with wicked amusement as your thighs began to shake with every bounce as your hands desperately clawed on his stomach. You began to grow tired as you abruptly stopped making him click his tongue.

"What a pathetic cockslut. Do I have to do everything myself, hm?"

"Please, Osamu, I can't—"

Suddenly, Dazai thrusts his hips upwards making you squeal and throw your head back. His hands fiercely grab your wrists as he continues to thrust upward into you. He laughs at how absolutely cockdrunk you were letting him use you. Sooner, Dazai's thrusts began to go sloppy as he gritted his teeth.

"Shit, gonna cum! You better take all of it like the cumslut you are"

With every moment the tip of Dazai's cock abuses your cervix, it brings you close to your peak. His grip on your wrists tightened and with a couple of hard thrusts, his seed spills inside of you. Your orgasm followed next as your eyes rolled back and your thighs quivered. You collapsed on top of Dazai as you tried to catch your breath. The exhaustion consumes you though as you fluttered your eyes shut.

"Looks like my cute little slut got tired"

Dazai brushes your hair back and pulls his cock out, he could see his excess cum dribbling out of your cunt as his eyes glimmered in delight. All he could think about as he watched you sleep was more ways to make you cry and beg for him to make you cum again.

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1-victoria-1 · 8 months ago

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Alastor x Child!Doe! Reader

A/n: the reader in this one will be a female and will be around the age of 4-6. I will also try to write a fic for the male audience, enjoy!

If only your innocent little mind knew how shocked, confused and concerned Charlie, the princess of hell was when she saw you, a child who has freshly arrived to hell and came to her tugging her pants and asking in an innocent voice "miss, can you tell me where i am?".

And oh her grandfather how her heart hurt when you looked at her and those little doe ears on top of your head twitched slightly as you tilted your little head at her, of course she couldn't just leave you here! So she took you with her to her hotel and as she literally flew in through the door of the hotel while holding you like a treasure that she has been trying to find for so long and yelling with excitement, "this little cutie is staying with us from now on!" And held you up like simba for everyone to see you and you just innocently looked at them and still confused on where you were and where your mama was.

Charlie then sat you down on one of the red couches in the hotel lobby when Vaggie told her that she should calm down and let you down.

She of course forgot to ask you for your name so she thought it would be good to start off with an introduction! "Alright sweetie! Let me introduce myself and the others to you! Im charlie, this lady next to me is Vaggie, my girlfriend! Then over there is Angel dust and his our first resident at the hotel, then there's Husk, our wonderful bartender! Sir. Pentious our second resident! And nifty she keeps everything clean here and-!"

She was about to introduce the red deer demon when she noticed he wasn't present in the lobby which meant he either was in his radio tower or in cannibal town but she didn't need long when he popped up.

"Charlie dear, i heard that you're introducing us to a new resident at the hotel, who might it be dear?"

Alastor asked as he looked at Charlie with his usual toothy smile, and your first impression about him was that he was red, like a strawberry! And you loved strawberries!

"Alastor! Right on time, i was introducing us to-! Eh i forgot to ask her name, but anyways i was introducing us to our new resident at the hotel! Darling what might be your name?"

Charlie asked you as she kneeled down in front of you as you sat on the couch and started at the deer demon and then looked at Charlie again. "[Y/n]" you said that innocently and squeaked happily, you really were an innocent little fellow.

'a child..'was the first thing Alastor thought, a child in hell was rare, except for the hellborn children of course, a sinner child was rare and this one looked small and from her look she didn't know where she was or what was happening, and she looked like a doe, maybe it was the reason eht he felt such a pang in his sadistic heart when he saw you, you were a doe, a fawn, his deer parent instincts kicked in.

He walked up to you and looked down at you and you looked at him and he just chuckled through his static voice, "oh what a little darling you are, aren't you? Can you perhaps tell us what you remember as last before you came here?" He asked as he looked at you and you twitched with your doe ears slightly and though and then answered.

"well i remember that papa was mad about something and then told me to take some kind of pills which made me feel dizzy and funny!" I said that and looked at the red man in front of me, and that's when the spider spoke, angel dust was it.

"toots her father drugged her with overdoses, what a filthy man." The spider said that and that's when Charlie literally froze up and Alastor himself felt like slaughtering that pitiful excuse of a father with a slow and painful death and then broadcasting his screams in his radio broadcast, and Charlie's reaction wasn't good either, she was all about second chances and redemption but that filthy human being didnt deserves any of it.

Looks like that was the reason why you were in hell, your father killed you with drugs but heaven saw it as if you had taken them willingly, which actually made Alastor and Charlie more furious, you were a child, and a child had nothing to do in hell!

"don't worry sweetie! Big sister Charlie will take great care of you as well as everyone in this hotel! As we are one big family here!" She said that as she calmed down her anger and picked you up and you giggled, you had a big sister now!

_________________________________________

And from that day on you started to live in the hotel while also being taken care of, Angel of course had to put his sex jokes away whenever you were around otherwise he would get threatening looks from Vaggie and Alastor.

Surprisingly and what no one expected was that you warmed up to Alastor quite quickly, you literally were like glued to him, at first he didn't really approve of it but then he also warned up to you and now you were like a father daughter duo!

You would always accompany him where he went but only in the hotel as he didn't want his innocent little doe daughter to get bad influence from hell and also he didn't want you to get hurt.

He would let you in his radio tower and you would either sit in his lap and draw something with crayons on a paper or color something or sometimes just listen to what your now new papa was doing, well except for times when he did gruesome things, he will always either get you to take your nap time or just leave you with Husk where you would get your favorite juice and usually also draw something of just color things in your coloring book and the show it to alastor afterwards.

He of course has taken you to meet Rosie after all she was your auntie now and it wouldn't be polite not to have you meet her and oh my stars she was just beaming when alastor introduced you both, she was an auntie now to Alastor's (literal) spawn of a daughter, and now she got a little lady to give cute little dresses and skirts! She even got you a mini version of Alastor's outfit and even a self-made little cane! Oh how adorable you looked!

Vaggie was very skeptical of this (and she still is) because well Alastor is the radio demon after all and well she just doesn't trust him and how is she supposed to trust him with a kid!

But even if some (almost all of the hotel staff) were skeptical and also afraid that your innocence might change. Alastor was still a great father, he does your hair even if it comes out sloppy at times but he's proud of his doing and sure his mother would be as well, speaking of his mother, she would have loved you as all the food that Alastor cooks you are receipts of his mother! And lets not forget that he tells you stories of her and how great she was, after all he does want you to admire his mother like he does!

He totally cuddles with you, you can't change my mind.

You are now one of his weaknesses now for sure.

At the meeting with heaven, Charlie didn't only present as a possible sinner for redemption, Angel dust and Sir Pentious, she also showed you, but she also wanted that to be as a show of how unfair heaven is, sending a little child down to hell when they have done absolutely nothing wrong and were drugged to death by their father!

Emily of course being the sweetest being ever was shocked and of course started to doubt heaven only more, and when the talk of extermination came, she was furious, like furious furious, like who is in the right mind to kill souls and at that even innocent children! That's just absurd!

A sweet one was when adam revealed Vaggie's identity and Charlie came back to hell with Vaggie and she was sad, you, their little sunshine, was there to cheer Vaggie up, she was your big sister as well! And the. You went to Charlie with auntie Rosie, and then everything was alright again and you were a happy bubbly mess to your father who was scratching you begging your doe ears, you were just the sweetest.

________________________________________

A/n: that's it for now dear reader, i hope you enjoy this little fic! Should i perhaps make a part two of this? Or maybe a full mini series?Have a wonderful day and stay healthy!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #haxbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x child reader #alastor x you #alastor x child reader #everythings platonic

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megalony · 21 days ago

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Undo What's Done

This is a new Emperor Geta imagine I had an idea for, I hope you will all like it.

Feedback is always appreciated.

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Main Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: (Y/n) and Geta have always known they were betrothed to each other, and their love bound them too. When (Y/n) becomes pregnant before marriage, Geta asks his father to arrange their marriage sooner. But the Emperor is sadistic and puts (Y/n) and her unborn child in jeopardy.

(Set before the twins become Emperors)

I am hoping to make this into a little series.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"My lady."

A tender smile flushed (Y/n)'s features when Geta brought her hand to his lips. The kiss he placed there was soft and tender, almost like the brush of a petal against her skin, so light that (Y/n) almost thought she'd imagined the touch.

She liked the way his eyes seemed to darken when they dragged up and down her frame like he was drinking in every inch of her. He always seemed to look at her in the same way. Whenever they were permitted to be in each other's company like this, Geta always had that sense of longing in his eyes, he always seemed to have an underlying desire hidden away in those eyes that only came out when he was in (Y/n)'s company.

He didn't seem to want to release her hand. His thumb stroked over the back of her fingers and his head inclined to one side as he straightened up in front of her.

Geta allowed his eyes to divert towards the maid stood a good few feet away from them on the path. It wasn't the same maid who usually accompanied them when they were permitted to meet.

Usually (Y/n) had a stout, stern governess who hovered so close she became a shadow, an omen looming over (Y/n), warding off anyone who dared look at her. She always glared at Geta as if he was somehow improper or unruly or as if she didn't know who he was. He didn't like her. He could barely talk to (Y/n) when the governess was lingering so close by.

This new maid seemed to understand the basic rules of ettiquette. She didn't hover too close to intrude on their conversation, she didn't want to walk beside them as if she were one of them or had their status. She was lingering in the background, walking behind them to give the sense of propriety that was required, but nothing more.

"Shall we?"

(Y/n) nodded, trying to bite back her eagerness as she looped her hand through Geta's elbow and let him lead the way.

She didn't have to turn her head to know her maid was following dutifully behind them, this time at a distance rather than what her usual governess would do.

It would be improper if (Y/n) and Geta were allowed to meet alone without a chaperone. Despite Caracalla being here for this visit and now walking alongside his twin, he wasn't classed as a chaperone because he was their age, and he was a boy. (Y/n) was the daughter of a Senate, she couldn't be alone with any boy or man, no matter who they were, she had to be escorted and chaperoned to ensure nothing untoward happened.

"How have you both been?" (Y/n) jangled the bracelet on her wrist and moved her hand to rest on Geta's forearm.

Her eyes danced between him and his brother stood on his other side, watching the twins express matching smiles and share a look before they glanced back to her. It wasn't often that (Y/n) got to be in Caracalla's presence too, unless they were all at a ceremony or with all the Senates.

When (Y/n) and Geta met, they only had a chaperone. It was nice to be around both Princes for a change.

"We've been training."

"You've been training, I don't find it very enticing." Caracalla corrected while his head lolled from left to right and he began tenderly plucking the petals from the flower in his hand.

He didn't like training, it was too controlling and strict. When he held a sword, he liked to wield it however he chose and plan an attack in his own way rather than following some old crone's orders. And he didn't like it when Geta was instantly much better at something than him. Neither of them had paid much attention to their studies unless it was of countries and war, and they were well read, but they didn't spend lots of time reading.

Their interests lay outside of books and sword training in the great hall.

"And you?"

"Mother has me brushing up on my Latin." (Y/n) didn't mind her studies, and she loved reading, one of the things that differed between her and Geta.

She leaned her head on Geta's shoulder as they continued walking and a flowing conversation enraptured around the three of them. These were the moments (Y/n) longed for. In between studies and her parents hosting dinners and parties, there wasn't a lot that (Y/n) found her own sense of pleasure in and she didn't have a lot to look forward to.

But these meetings with Geta, the time she got to spend with him, whether that be over lunch or going for walks or simply wandering the palace when she was permitted to visit, these were what (Y/n) longed for. These were what got her through her studies and kept her going each day.

They were both waiting for the day they would be married.

It wasn't often that anyone betrothed to another found a genuine likeness and love for the person they were joined to.

(Y/n) and Geta had been betrothed since they were children. At first, it hadn't been decided which Prince (Y/n) would be joined with. Not until the twins were nine and it was decided that she would be suited with Geta.

Since that age, they had seen each other at dinners, they went out on horse rides together and met when (Y/n) was brought along to the palace, since her father was a Senate.

They had found themselves falling for each other and (Y/n) couldn't have been more relieved that the person she was to spend her life with was someone she loved. There was nothing worse in her mind than marrying a man she didn't love. It posed the risk of a dull or sorrowful life and (Y/n) absolutely dreaded the thought of being in a loveless marriage and finding love with another who she would never be fated to be with.

She knew she was lucky, far luckier than most of the people in Rome and those who were in her position. Women were married to the best suitor and simply told to go along with it. She knew her own parents weren't in love, they had grown accustomed together and got along, but it wasn't love. It wasn't what (Y/n) and Geta had and they weren't even married yet.

"This way."

(Y/n) glanced her head to look behind her when Geta suddenly tugged on her wrist and pulled her a few feet back until they were safely hidden behind a hedge.

Somewhere along the way, Caracalla became distracted and was chittering away to himself as he admired some of the statues in the garden. And (Y/n) noticed her maid had taken a seat on the marble bench along the path. She too seemed to be lost in her mind as she began to read the book she had brought along with her.

Clearly the maid hadn't been briefed on keeping (Y/n) within her sights at all times. But she must know that nothing untoward would happen, or she presumed nothing would if she was within close range. She didn't want to babysit (Y/n) when she wasn't a little girl needing protection and guidance. And the maid was far too meek to dare correct either of the Princes if she thought they were doing something wrong or childlike.

When Geta took a few more steps back, (Y/n) felt her heart jumping into her throat as he led her towards the clearing near the pond. They were well and truly out of sight now. They were hidden from both her maid and his twin, both of whom hadn't seemed to notice or care about their absence.

For the first time, possibly since they had known one another, they were truly alone. Truly allowed to talk and be close and smile and share words that no one else was permitted to hear.

(Y/n) could feel her heart beating out of her chest when Geta sank down to sit on the grass and she found herself doing the same. Sitting so close to him made her stomach flip. Being this close, with their thighs touching and their arms meshed together and Geta's hand now entwined with hers with no one to glare or observe, it was bliss.

"I heard father talking to the Senates, I think he wants the wedding to proceed soon."

Geta had tried not to get his hopes up when he heard his father talking in a meeting, but he knew what had been said. He knew his father's health was starting to fail, and he wanted to see at least one of his son's get married and secured so when they took the throne, there would be no quarrell about their succession. It would make Geta's stance and power higher if he was married, especially to the Senate's daughter.

His heart had jumped into his throat when he heard his father talking about the wedding.

He wondered if his father would try and find a bride for Caracalla too, but if one of the twins had a bride then there would be no rush to find one for Caracalla. He seemed happier being solitude with the women their father brought to the palace for them.

"I'm glad to hear it." (Y/n) couldn't bite back the smile that spread across her lips at hearing such news. She knew her mother was eager for the betrothal, she had been so happy when (Y/n)'s father came home and announced their daughter would be a future Empress. There was no higher honour (Y/n) could have or that she could bestow upon her family and rise them to the top of Rome like this.

But it wasn't about status or security for (Y/n). If she were worried about marriage then that would be a comfort, but she was simply eager to be with Geta. Be with the person her heart wanted, the person who loved her back.

The conversation flowed easily between them and (Y/n) found herself relishing in the sound of Geta's laugh. It wasn't often that she heard him laugh, and to be the only person within earshot to hear such a melodic noise made (Y/n)'s smile brighten.

She knew what a ruthless man the Emperor could be. She knew he had often beat the twins into submission, whether to get them to listen or to behave or simply because he was in a drunken rage. She knew it made their lives hard, always walking on eggshells and wanting to rebel against their father but not being able to.

So to see Geta so relaxed and happy and carefree like this, it was a lovely sight.

(Y/n) cast her head over her shoulder to see whether the maid or Caracalla were within sight yet. Neither of them were. As much as (Y/n) loved being alone with Geta, she felt like they were on borrowed time. She didn't know whether the maid would care or if she would brush this off and think it was okay. Her governess would of thrown a fit and raged at (Y/n) for being promiscous; she probably would have said (Y/n) was a tart for being alone with a man, especially the one she was engaged to.

But all the worries and panic surging through her veins fizzled out the moment a soft hand pressed beneath her chin and tilted her head to the left.

(Y/n)'s smile morphed into something resembling shock when Geta's lips planted upon hers.

She wanted to push him away. She wanted to scold him and tell him that acting like this wasn't proper, that they were pushing boundaries by holding hands every time they met and a kiss was far too promiscous. But the touch was invigorating.

The softness of his lips and the eagerness behind his touch and the feeling of his hand cupping her cheek made (Y/n) want to melt on the spot.

It didn't matter that their teeth clashed and (Y/n) was sure that she had a cut to her upper lip when both of them leaned in and pressed a bit too eagerly into the kiss. All that mattered was savouring this feeling and dragging it out into something more, into a moment that couldn't be ruined by anything.

Stars twinkled in front of (Y/n)'s eyes when they finally parted for air and she let her temple rest against Geta's. She could see those deep brown eyes swirling like batter mix and his pupils expanded until they were almost eclipsing what was left of his iris's.

Her hands fell to his shoulders, brushing her fingers across the dip at his collarbone and the base of his neck as their noses pressed together and she watched a breathless smile take over Geta's expression.

"That's better," Geta's words were spoken against (Y/n)'s plump lips and she seemed to inhale each word while his eyes searched hers.

He knew it was a risk to kiss her when it was against social cues and he didn't want (Y/n) to think he presumed her to be anything like the women who frequented the palace. But she was the one he wanted, she was the one he thought about in the dead of night. And what harm could there be in kissing her when their wedding seemed to be imminent?

"You are very forward, you know. And we have no chaperone." (Y/n) tried to look behind her both to prove her point and to ensure that neither her maid or his twin had seen them. But she couldn't move her head far with Geta's hand cupping the side of her face.

"I can't help it, I seized my chance. I pray the wedding is soon, then there won't be any need for a chaperone." The displeasure was clear in Geta's eyes. He didn't like having to be watched and assessed like they were still little children or absconding fools.

If he were Emperor already then he would have set the plans in motion for their wedding by now. But when they were married, none of this propriety would be necessary and no one would be able to judge their relationship and their eagerness to be around one another.

And when Geta and his brother were finally on the throne, out of the shadows cast by their brute of a father, things would indeed be much better. Geta wanted to have (Y/n) close, to be wed and have her by his side at all times. But that meant having her at the palace, where she would be around his father. He didn't want his father to take out his anger on her or be crude to her.

Up to now, the Emperor had been nothing but curteous, he could do nothing else when being improper would risk the betrothal if he displeased (Y/n) or her father. But once they were married, Geta would keep (Y/n) as far out of the way of his father as possible. He and Caracalla only spent time in their father's company when he wanted to talk matters of state or teach them something.

His drunken rages weren't often taken out on the twins anymore, but Geta still didn't want (Y/n) around him.

(Y/n)'s hands moved from Geta's shoulders to cradle either side of his neck and her thumbs began to trace the edges of his jaw as she took a deep breath and closed the gap between them.

She knew she shouldn't. (Y/n) knew kissing Geta was going against the rules that had been instilled in both of them since they were little. She knew doing this now would lead to more, that this would push them to catch any opportune moment together in the future. (Y/n) knew that this broke the boundaries and every other meeting they had, they would want to do this and more, and it wasn't a good habit to allow.

But she couldn't help herself. Not when Geta was all she could think about, all she wanted, and he was right here with no one to stop them or tell them it was wrong.

And when she heard Geta mumbling "So beautiful," against her lips, it made her mind go fuzzy and sent her heart into a frenzy.

This is what it would be like when they were married. No one would watch them or chaperone them when they were bound together. They would be free to kiss and link arms and take walks or be left alone in a room together and no one would call them improper or look down on them or think they were being risqué.

And maybe in a few short months, that would be their reality. Their wedding was set in stone, and even though a date hadn't been picked yet, clearly the Emperor was thinking about deciding such a date. Their parents had been waiting for the right time, as it was up to them when the wedding would proceed. Hopefully that time would be soon.

"We- we should- we should get going." (Y/n) could barely pant each word against Geta's lips when he leaned in further and seemed to swallow her words without taking them in.

Surely her maid would notice if they were gone too long? And they weren't allocated much time to spend together today, they would have to be back inside the palace soon for (Y/n) to leave with her parents. As much as they both wanted to stay here, it wasn't practical; they didn't have long.

"Soon."

"Geta-"

"Stay here with me a while longer, please?"

There was very little willpower within (Y/n) to argue and with Geta's chest leaning into hers until he was almost laying her down on the grass, she couldn't find it in herself to disagree. Not when his touch was heavenly and there was no one ruining the moment or telling them to stop like normal. Fate was giving them a chance to be together, to be in their own company. This was too good of a moment to ruin just yet.

Geta prayed his father would set a date or it was going to physically tear him apart not to be this close to (Y/n) every day. Princes had been married much younger than Geta was now. The renounced princess Lucilla had been wed and bore her child at fourteen.

They were meant to be together, both in fate and in writing, their futures were entwined.

And he didn't want this moment to end; what could go wrong?

***

Uncertainty and sheer unbridled panic dwelled within Geta's gut as he entered the study he rarely passed these days.

His sweating palms clenched into fists to try and compose himself and stop himself from turning around or melting into a concerned puddle on the marbled floor. It wasn't like him to panic. Not anymore. Not since he had been little.

Panic didn't come into things when Geta had spent the last decade shielding himself and his twin from their father's wrath. Panic didn't seem relevant after the beatings and the arguments and all the shouting he had endured during his childhood. Even the death of their mother hadn't made him panic like it should have as she would no longer be there to shield the twins from their father's drunken tyrany.

But in this moment, Geta felt more panic than he had ever felt before and he knew it was because he had no way of knowing how his father would react and what he would say. Or do.

If his father had done what he should have done in the first place then Geta wouldn't be feeling this overwhelming sense of anxiety. If things had gone smoothly and according to plan then this wouldn't be a problem.

He tried to hold his head high and straighten out his shoulders when he walked into the study and closed the door behind him. At least there were no guards in here, he could have a private talk with his father without any staff listening in or watching eagerly like they normally did.

"What do you want?"

There was a sense of dismissal in the Emperor's voice as if Geta was coming to him to ask for a sweet or to have his father's attention like he was a child or a peasant off the street. He and Caracalla had grown up never wanting their father's approval or attention and Geta certainly wouldn't start now. This was a business talk, nothing more, nothing less.

Geta did his best to steel himself and his expression, even though his father hadn't bothered to turn around to face him. He knew it had to be one of his sons, no one else walked in unannounced or got away with walking in and staying silent and so presuming.

"To talk to you, about when you plan to set a date for when I marry Lady (Y/n)." It was so hard to get his words out in the right order without being too presumptuous or coming across as rude. Geta knew better than most that if his father so much as thought he was being rude then he would become enraged and very uncooperative.

His father finally turned around to face him and Geta wasn't sure what to make of the amused expression on the Emperor's face. He had one hand leant on his desk so he was slouched back at an angle and one brow was arched up as he looked over at his son.

"Why the sudden rush, boy?" That tone of voice made it hard for Geta not to show his distain.

It irked him to no end that their father rarely used the twins names. He used cast off names or jibes to refer to them and Geta had never been sure why. They were the boys the Emperor had longed for, twin boys to rule the Empire he was building, and yet he never referred to them with an ounce of kindness in his voice or a smile on their face.

Their mother had been the one to use their names but even then it was hard to remember a time when she had been affectionate. She never did anything when their father used to raise a hand to them, so it hadn't been hard on either Geta or Caracalla when their mother died.

"We want to be married." Being nocholant wasn't doing Geta any favours, he could see it in the way his father's shoulders slouched and how he huffed.

Usually if the twins acted as if something wasn't a bother to them or they weren't interested, their father didn't question it. They had learnt to hide from him what they wanted and desired or he taunted them and tried to take it from them like life was a game and he wanted to win. At all costs.

"And you will, when the time is right." That seemed to be an end to the conversation as the Emperor looked down at the pages he had scattered about on his desk.

"The time is now."

Geta began to spin the golden ring around his index finger in a manner to calm himself down and keep his composure.

They had waited long enough. Geta had expected to be married by now, he expected to have a wife and be his own person and gain more respect and freedom that came with marriage. He didn't want to keep waiting around like this as it was torture, and it was taking too long.

"Why? You think being married will put you ahead of your brother for the throne? That's a dirty tactic." The Emperor clicked his tongue, although his smirk was evident.

That was a nasty way of gaining what he wanted, but the Emperor would admit he respected his son more if that was his game. If he thought that being the twin who was married or who had children would put him higher in line for the throne, then that was one way to go. The people of Rome would be more inclined to have Geta on the throne if he brought stability and heirs.

It had never formally been discussed which son would take the throne. On technicality, Geta was elder as he was born first, but to the rest of Rome, the Emperors shared the same birthday so they shared the same birth right.

It wasn't often that twins thrived, usually one thrived and the other, a weakling, would perish. Having them both survive into adulthood and gain strength and minds of their own was a surprise to the Emperor and to Rome and it meant choosing one to be a successor.

"We would rule equally, my marriage has nothing to do with that-"

Frustration dwelled within Geta as he tilted his head down and closed his eyes, trying his best to control his emotions that were going to get the better of him at any moment.

Why could his father, for once, not just agree with him and do the right thing? Couldn't he set a date- preferably soon and let this be an end to the matter. He had pledged Geta to marry (Y/n) and so far he had done nothing to show that he meant this intention and was going to hold up on the agreement. Geta was starting to lose faith and it would do his father no good to lose the faith of (Y/n)'s father and the rest of the Senates if he didn't follow through with this marriage sooner or later.

"Then why so eager all of a sudden?"

"(Y/n) is with child. If we're not married, the child won't be legitimate."

Something tore at Geta's heart when he watched his father's smirk turn into a sinister grin.

He knew telling the truth wouldn't incline his father to agree, but he prayed his father might just go along with this. It was a predicament after all and if his father didn't agree, he would cause an uproar.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

But their families had let them meet more often now that their studies were over and Geta and Caracalla were focusing more on how to rule than their tutoring. And those small moments they stole together turned into afternoons when (Y/n)'s maid and even Geta's guards simply daudled and twiddled their thumbs or sat waiting while they went into the gardens or the temple in the palace grounds.

Those moments had led to something more and caution had been lost. Now they were stuck.

On their last meeting (Y/n) had wept as she told Geta she knew she was pregnant. She couldn't confide in her mother, her maids would tell both her parents and her father would become outraged if he knew. The only silver lining was they were already betrothed. (Y/n) was spared the insult of being called a stupid girl when she had lain with the man she was engaged to.

And if they got married now, then there would be no outrage or suspicion or gossip. They would be married and announce the pregnancy and no problems would arise. (Y/n) could have the baby and Geta would have an heir. But he couldn't abide by the thought of his child being deemed illegitimate simply because his father delayed on the wedding.

That couldn't happen.

A deep sigh left the Emperor's lips as he turned to fully face his son. One leg crossed over the other and he leant his hips back against the desk while his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to delight in the way Geta bristled and held himself taller with his pointed chin jutting out and his lips curled into a snarl as if he was rearing for battle.

"You surprise me. Were there not enough whores to satisfy you?" One hand waved at his side to refer to the many women who resided in the palace on the sole basis of being ready to tend to both Prince's every need.

Geta refused to answer such a question. He could feel the fury rising within him at the indignation that his father was implying (Y/n) was one of those women too. She wasn't. She wasn't like the whores and concubines the Emperor brought to the palace. (Y/n) wasn't like that and Geta hated how his father could smile and so easily presume and speak such a thing.

"You do realise that she should be pure if you are to be wed. A future Empress should be above reproach and pure, which now, she isn't. Thanks to you… presumably." The Emperor shrugged his shoulders and slowly shook his head as if he were somehow disappointed.

But Geta couldn't understand his words or his logic. How could his father think or imply she wasn't pure when the whole point of that was to give herself to Geta, which she had done. The only difference was it had happened before marriage, not after.

(Y/n) was above all reproach, she was reagal and pure and without any fault or doubt about her. She was perfect in every way and everyone who knew or even looked at her could see that. No one would know what had happened if they were married now, as soon as possible.

"She is to be married to me, what does it matter? She was pure and if we are married no one will know."

"This isn't how a lady of her status should act, let alone someone marrying a future Emperor. I might have to rethink this betrothal."

A deep rumbling could be heard within Geta's chest as his eyes went wide with fury that raged a burning fire like a volcano within him. That wasn't allowed. How could he say such a thing? How could he imply that?

His hands clenched into tight fists at his sides until his milky white skin almost looked grey and any trace of colour went straight to his face that was turning a deep shade of blood red. His knuckles threatened to pop out of place and his nails began to create indents into his palms as he shook in a volatile manner.

Geta knew without a doubt that if this was anyone else, they wouldn't act this way. Any other Emperor would sigh, they would say Geta had let himself down and should have known better, but they would agree. They would agree this was the right thing and arrange the wedding.

Why was it so bad when they would have been married by now if the Emperor had already made an effort to start on the arrangements. It would all have been over and done with by now, but the Emperor had busied himself with other matters and Geta had succumbed to (Y/n)'s grace and beauty. It was his fault, he would take all the blame for this but he wanted to rectify this, if only his father would agree and take heed.

"Don't do this!" Geta's voice boomed throughout the study and the threat weighed heavy until his father's amusement faded.

"Calm down boy, she's just a-"

"I'll say I forced her if you don't allow this marriage to go ahead. You'll ruin everything, our lives, her reputation. My child. You can't- I won't let you do this!"

If it came to it, Geta would make it well known that he had done wrong. He would let it be known that he forced himself on (Y/n) if his father tried to make her look to be anything less than a lady of honour. Geta would take all the blame and he would make sure everyone knew that his father wasn't allowing the marriage.

He couldn't let his father do this. There would be no repercussions for Geta. This thing happened all the time, the Emperor himself had been with countless women and had illegitimate children in Rome who he didn't know nor care for.

But this was (Y/n). A lady of high honour and reputation, the daughter of a Senate who was betrothed to one of the Princes. This would be a great shock if people found out and if the engagement was broken, (Y/n)'s life would be ruined. Her father would cast her aside, she could bring no higher honour than marrying a Prince and if that didn't happen because she and Geta got ahead of themselves then her father would shun her.

She would be cast aside with a child to support and no one of any status would want to marry her.

Her life would be over. Geta couldn't allow that all because he let himself get carried away and urged her to do the same.

He couldn't let that happen because his father was a vindictive soul who didn't deserve to be on the throne. If he had his way the Gods would strike his father down on that very spot right this minute, then he and Caracalla would rule and everything would be set right again.

"Remind me stulte, who is the Emperor? Speak out of line again and you know what will happen." The way the Emperor's voice deepened and his hand clenched into a fist made Geta inwardly shudder.

Clenched fists were a sign of an impending slap or punch and although Geta had always tried to protect Caracalla, he had never fought back against his father. A child could not win a fight against a man.

Geta's lips curled into a deep snarl and he tried to hold his father's gaze, despite the reeling emotions within him. Geta hadn't paid much attention to his schooling, but he had remembered a little of the Latin which he had learnt, so he knew his father had referred to him as an idiot. It was a new phrase Geta wasn't used to being called, but he was used to far more spiteful and degrading terms than that.

He just wanted to do the right thing. He wanted to be married to the woman he loved, the one he was bound to, and secure her and their child. Was that such a bad thing?

But Geta could see in his father's wavering expression that he was done with this conversation. He wasn't going to talk about it any further, at least not today. But each passing day that ticked by made things worse for Geta and so much worse for (Y/n).

He watched with growing distain and hatred in his eyes as his father waved a hand to dismiss him and turned to face his desk again while he spoke over his shoulder. "I'll think on it and decide what to do for the best. Leave this with me, boy."

That didn't bode well for Geta, he could feel it in his bones.

***

"Geta… I'm afraid."

(Y/n) wrung her hands out in front of her and sank her teeth down into her lower lip to try and control the storm raging within her. It was turning her stomach in loops and knots that couldn't be undone and her chest was alive with nerves like thousands of birds trapped within her ribcage, fighting to break free.

This wasn't going to work, she could just feel it. No matter how much they wished for this to happen and work out, something told (Y/n) that it wasn't going to.

She couldn't stop from tapping her feet against the stone floor and the rings on her fingers were clashing together and straining as her numb fingers felt like they were going to snap from how much she was fiddling with them.

"This will work. They can't refuse, all will be well. Do you trust me?" Geta reached out to tangle his hand with (Y/n)'s, stopping her from panicking so much when he entwined their fingers together.

He squeezed her hand tight and began smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand.

And when he looked down at her, he found the smallest etching of a smile on her face as she nodded to his question. "Yes."

Of course she trusted him. (Y/n) would admit that she had been utterly panicked and overwrought when she realised she was pregnant. A dreaded part of her thought that this wouldn't be glad news for Geta, but he had proved wrong. (Y/n) trusted him enough to tell him and he assured her he would do everything within his power to ensure their wedding took place.

It was the Emperor who was disagreeing with them. He seemed to find it entertaining. He hadn't mentioned anything to (Y/n)'s father, praise the Gods, but he was simply ignoring and blanking Geta on every occasion when Geta brought up the marriage.

'I haven't decided yet.'

'This is something that requires careful consideration.'

Those were the main variations Geta seemed to be getting from his father and he had given up. He wouldn't squirm and wriggle under his father's metaphorical foot any longer. He was going to go ahead with this marriage whether his father made any arrangements or agreed or not.

When (Y/n) turned and cast a glance over her shoulder, her worried eyes locked on her mother.

She was fiddling with the belt around her waist, pinning her dress in place against her figure. It wasn't often that (Y/n) ever saw her mother look nervous. Unhappy, angry, incontent, certainly, but nervous and furious like she currently was, this was something different.

(Y/n) didn't have a choice. She had to tell her mother because if they were doing this, then they needed witnesses and (Y/n) knew as much as her mother would be forever disappointed in her, she would at least try to help and rectify the situation. Not like her father. He would cast (Y/n) out the moment he heard the news.

"Let's proceed, shall we?" The brisk voice of Gaina's voice made (Y/n) shiver despite how she nodded along to her mother's words.

(Y/n) let Geta lead her into the chapel, with her mother and Caracalla following close behind.

They were going to get married.

There was no other way. If the Emperor wouldn't arrange the proper ceremony as he promised and should dictate, then Geta had to resort to desperate measures. He found a priest willing to perform the ceremony simply because he was afraid of the wrath Geta promised to impose on him. Geta might not be Emperor yet, but he was a Prince, he had the next highest authority and he could make this man's life not worth living.

And everyone in Rome knew that this marriage was planned and preconstrude, it was known to everyone. So this wasn't really going against the Emperor's rule or wishes when he himself had declared this betrothal.

"This is only what was planned for us, we aren't doing anything wrong. Once my father sees that, he will have to accept it. You will be my wife, and no one will dispute that. I promise."

Each word was murmured against the side of (Y/n)'s temple and she could feel the words soaking into her skin. His promise had an enchanting effect, making (Y/n) feel like a spell was being cast over her with a sense of magic flowing through her veins.

(Y/n) squeezed his hand and looped her free hand around his bicep, gluing herself into his side as if to ensure that they were forever bound to one another.

This wasn't how either of them thought or planned for their wedding day to proceed. They didn't think they would be in a small chapel a far ride from the Palace with only two people to be their witnesses. But somehow, this was better.

There were no spectators, no onlookers. No Senates murmuring their approval or bickering, no people fussing and trying to outdo and outlook everyone else. And there was no enraged Emperor breathing down their necks for everyone to be afraid of.

As long as Geta had his twin present, he didn't care about anyone else. And he could see his brother smiling out the corner of his eye. Caracalla's golden tooth glistened in the midday sun and the blue sash draped over one shoulder glistened like a sapphire. He had his hands clasped in front of him, his shoulders straight but his eyes set on his twin and future sister as if silently ensuring they were okay and everything was going to go according to plan. Their plan.

Geta let his eyes focus on the cream dress (Y/n) wore with golden tassels and silk and thread woven to make her look radiant, like a beam of light directly from the sun. There were flowers in her hair, something Geta hadn't seen before and the way she held herself and smiled made Geta feel unworthy.

This shouldn't be happening in this way, with such secrecy and deceit and unbridled panic. But this was what they had to do, and if this worked the way Geta hoped it would, then his father would see reason.

His father would hate the scandal of one of his sons getting married in a private ceremony with no announcements and no members of the council present. He would organise another wedding, a proper ceremony for pretenses and so all of Rome could know and rejoice.

That was what had to happen. There was no other way for the Emperor to save face after this marriage was officiated. Geta would embarrass him if he had to, but this wedding was a necessity.

***

"You've done it now, boy."

Shivers tore throughout (Y/n)'s body and she winced, coiling her arms towards her chest out of instinct. Her head aimed down and her teeth chomped down on the inside of her cheek when the Emperor's harsh words whipped through the air.

They had all been anticipating this, they knew what would happen when he found out, but somehow this was more frightening than anything (Y/n) had imagined. And she had come up with thousands of theories and examples and scenarios.

Her head angled to the left when she felt a careful hand curling around her elbow and her heart clenched when she saw the panic written across Caracalla's face. He wasn't even the one who would get into trouble for this and yet he was fretting. That was the reaction his father got out of the twins for just about anything they did, whether it was good or bad.

(Y/n) sidestepped until she was pressed into Caracalla's side and she let him loop his hand properly through her elbow as he tried to cast his eyes down to his feet. But he couldn't refrain from watching his twin. Geta had always been the more stubborn out of them both, he was always the fighter, the one willing to take any blow their father lashed out and he was always shielding Caracalla from his wrath.

Both of them looked ahead towards Geta, stood in front of his father like two opposing forces going to battle.

For once, Geta didn't quite look the young boy he truly was, nor did he look small in his father's presence. He looked bold, aged, mature. Or maybe that was simply how he came across to (Y/n).

"You wouldn't act or do the right thing, so I did." There was a nocholant tone to Geta's voice and the look in his tired eyes showed that he didn't want to fight or argue. He simply wanted his father to give in for once, and do the right thing.

But the Emperor scoffed as if he had been thoroughly insulted- which he hadn't as Geta could of said much worse to upset him- and he stepped closer until he and his son were almost nose to nose.

"Marrying one of your concubines is the right thing for a Prince, do explain."

"Do not forget who betrothed us for the last ten years, father. This was your doing, the arrangement was signed. What man, nay, Emperor goes back on his word?"

Vile poison spat from Geta's tongue as he pushed his palm against his father's chest to make him take a step back.

This had been prearranged. This had been laid out, carved into stone and told to the world. Everyone knew of this marriage arrangement, it was the Emperor who had been debating going back on his word when he knew the uproar that it would ensue if he did. He was the one telling Geta he wouldn't sanction the marriage and he didn't think (Y/n) was worthy now she had been 'tainted' by the one person she knew she was allowed to be with in the world.

Geta would admit he had done wrong by going behind his father's back, but he had been righting his mistake. Something his father clearly wouldn't do or admit to and that was a bad trait in a leader.

"I wouldn't of needed to if you'd of chosen one of the whores in the palace instead of bedding that one out of wedlock." The way the Emperor pointed a crooked finger towards (Y/n) had her coiling into Caracalla's side and gripping his arm so she didn't shed one tear or one morsel of emotion for him to pick on.

She could see her mother's stature bristling as she stood a few feet away with a look of indignation on her face. Gaina would never speak out of turn to the Emperor, she knew better, but it took a lot of self control to stand there and hear her daughter referred to in such a manner.

In her eyes, the Prince was just as much to blame for his frolicking actions as (Y/n). They had both gotten ahead of themselves and succumbed to lust and desire before marriage. If they waited until their marriage was arranged and done with, then there would be no problem.

But Gaina was relieved about how Geta tried to rectify things. God only knew that all Geta had to do was imply the child wasn't his and (Y/n)'s credibility would have been torn to ribbons. He could have turned his back on her and told his father he didn't want this marriage and that would be the end of (Y/n)'s life. But Geta had done the right thing, something Gaina wouldn't expect from a boy of his background and status.

Geta's hands clenched into fists at his sides while his skin bristled and he pointed his chin up towards his father.

"Enough! We're married now, as is proper and you can't undo what's done. This is what's right and what I want, punish me how you see fit but it is done. I won't see my child be cast out or a bastard because of you."

Panic ensued through everyone in the room and (Y/n) flinched at the tone of Geta's voice and the fury that boiled over in the Emperor's eyes. She couldn't help but move her free hand down to her stomach that her gowns weren't hiding very well anymore.

The Emperor had wasted precious time. Everyone in Rome would know by the haste in their marriage and when the baby had been born that the couple had acted untoward. It wouldn't take much to work out. But if the Emperor had simply agreed in the beginning and arranged a quick marriage, they might just have gotten away with it.

When Geta cast his head to look over his shoulder, he watched his twin slightly nod his head in agreement and the look in Caracalla's eyes showed he agreed and was fully supportive of his brother's words. And he noticed how his wife- such a strange notion to think of now- was refusing to look anywhere but at the floor.

She knew the Emperor wasn't going to agree, she had told Geta that she believed he would try anything he could to stop this because he was cruel and he liked to see his sons suffer. It was all a game to him, a game which Geta had bested him at.

"I think you forget who you're dealing with, little boy. The priests answer to me, and no lord or Senate, let alone a Prince, can be married without my distinct approval. Which you did not gain, I hasten to add. I can annul this marriage by sunrise, then we will see what becomes of this child."

Tears burned in the corners of (Y/n)'s eyes and she leaned into Caracalla, suddenly fearing her legs were going to give out on her.

He would really go that far. He would have their union annulled because he was vindictive and they didn't have him there to approve something which he himself had orchestrated. They already had his approval in way of writing and a gentleman's handshake with (Y/n)'s father from years previous. A bond which the Emperor was clearly willing to break.

If he did this it would sever connections within the Senate. Some would side with (Y/n)'s family and father, others would agree with the Emperor simply to save their own necks. Trust in the Emperor would be lost and the people of Rome would know and sense this. Trades would go down if people thought the Emperor was no longer a man of his word.

This union was planned and in writing, he couldn't throw the sanctity of that away and claim it was out of respect or self preservation when going against this marriage was what was going to ruin them all.

"If you try to annul this marriage then all of Rome will lose faith in their untrustworthy Emperor. You gave your word, you agreed in writing, I had all the approval I needed from you."

What more could Geta have done to rectify the situation? Why could his father not go along with this? Was he that bent on things being done by his word and command that he wouldn't allow this because Geta used his initiative?

Geta wished his father would fall to his demise. He wished him to die right here in this moment. When he and Caracalla took the throne, nonsense like this wouldn't happen. People would know where they stand, Geta would always follow through on his agreements and promises. And (Y/n) would never be treated in this way ever again.

If he knew he could get away with it, Geta would have murdered his father himself by now. But he didn't have the respect of the guards and the rest of Rome yet to commit such an act and still be placed on the throne.

"Do not test my patience, I'd be willing to let her be one of your favoured women, she would be taken care of. I wouldn't cast her out on the street or put her at the mercy of her own father. I presume he has no knowledge of this marriage either and that I will need to have words with him."

Terror clutched at Geta's heart when the clicking of heels caught his attention and he turned just in time to see (Y/n) flee the room.

She wouldn't stand and listen to insults like these any longer. Insults that were going to become a reality because the Emperor wasn't going to listen to them, that was clear.

Tears burned down her face and it became harder and harder to take a proper breath when her lungs began to seize up.

How dare he say such things. How dare the Emperor imply he would be doing (Y/n) a favour by letting her remain as one of Geta's whores here in the palace. Being one of those women would degrade (Y/n), she would never marry, never be loved or respected by her family or anyone else.

She would be a common concubine raising the Prince's child in the depths of the palace, watching as the Emperor forced Geta to yield to his demands and possibly marry someone else. (Y/n) couldn't live that life, she couldn't be a woman of the night, she would rather die than face such disregard and disrespect.

Her hands fisted in her dress, hiking it around her ankles so she could run without threat of being tripped up. She didn't know where she was aiming for. Her father was with the rest of the Senates somewhere in the palace, and she had a dreadful feeling that the Emperor was going to tell him the news. Today. She couldn't face him. She couldn't face anyone else.

She had it in mind to run home and collect her things, to pack up and vanish before her father had the chance to cast her out and tell her she had dishonoured her family and was no longer part of the (Y/l/n) family or name.

The dark part of her mind told her to find a knife or head to the kitchens and look for almonds and the rest of the ingredients to form cyanide. If this marriage was annulled, (Y/n) couldn't wait for the Emperor to be dethroned or to pass away and have the twins on the throne. She would be cast out by then, she would have an illegitimate child. Taking her own life would evade that scenario and the Emperor might just be kind and remorseful enough to make her death look natural.

The hand that curled around her wrist stopped her from becoming lost in her tragic thoughts and she would of screamed if she had any air left in her lungs. Her sandals skidded along the polished floor and her body jerked to the right as Geta reeled her towards him.

He let her fall into his chest and steady her hands on his shoulders and his hands frantically moved to cup her face, trying in vain to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop falling.

"Love, it's alright I won't-"

"He will- he- he will annul our marriage," Tears continued to stream down (Y/n)'s face as she hiccupped through her words. "Once he tells my father, I- I'm done. Cast out, d-dishonoured. He will ruin me."

Geta couldn't be sure whether she was referring to her own father or his, but it didn't matter. Once her father knew, her world would shatter. He would oppose the Emperor's annulment but if it went through, he would cast (Y/n) aside. She would lose her home, her dowry, her family and her life. She would have nothing but the love of a Prince who couldn't be hers any longer and a child she wouldn't be able to protect or support.

Her trembling hands tightened around his shoulders and she tried to tilt her head down until Geta's hands squeezed her neck and prevented her from looking away from him. He cupped her face harder and pressed their temples together until their noses were squashed together and their breaths started to entwine.

"He can't annul what has been done, the church has sanctity. The marriage had witnesses and is consummated. Love I promise you that I won't let this happen. I'll announce it, I'll tell everyone, I'll find the priest and bring him here so he can't do anything. I will do what I have to so you and our child are safe."

Rage dripped from each and every word he spoke and (Y/n) could feel the fury boiling through him and into her bones. He was gripping her so tightly that she was starting to shake and the way he smashed his lips onto hers was like no other time he had kissed her before.

There was no fever, no childish smiles or a sense of longing or desire. There was no relief and peace and sanctity like yesterday when they were married. This time, there was desperation in the way Geta kissed her, like he couldn't control anything but their touch and he wanted to keep this for himself.

His lips overcame hers, his mouth consumed her and when she tried to part her lips to breathe Geta simply inhaled the air she consumed. He kissed her until her teeth hurt and her lips were tingling and her lungs were screaming as she gasped against his mouth.

Her knees threatened to give way and her hands moved from his shoulders to grip his wrists as she inclined her head and finally managed to part from Geta just enough to gain some air.

"You'll stay here with me, you won't leave my side." It sounded more like an order than a request and (Y/n) nodded along to each word.

Leaving wasn't safe, not when her father was going to find out and if he found her, that would open another universe of problems and arguments. Being around Geta was the only way (Y/n) could remain safe.

She leaned into him until her knees started to waver and Geta was the only thing holding her up and preventing her from collapsing to the floor. But she couldn't stop crying.

There was very little they could do against the Emperor who held all control here. He could do whatever he liked, he could ruin (Y/n)'s life and reputation and their love and he seemed thrilled at the prospect.

Geta could try all his might, he could tell all of Rome he was married, he could ensure the priest didn't allow their marriage to be annulled, but the Emperor could go to great lengths to get his own way.

What were they going to do?

#imagine #emperor geta imagine #geta imagine #emperor geta x reader #geta x reader #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #gladiator imagine #gladiator movie #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn

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gasolinecookie · 1 month ago

Text

☆•° SHADOWMILK FIC BELOW!!! °•☆

k so this is my first time posting my fanfic onto tumblr. farts. lmk if i need to do anything special or not

Content; soul jam freakery, pwp, non-penetrative sex, switch shadow milk, switch pure vanilla, cookiefucking ig, brief mentions of purelily(?), 3k+ words :3

Pure Vanilla stood in a glade of flowers. As far as the eye could see, there were hills lined with hundreds and thousands of flowers. A shy moon peered over a hilltop, stars winking playfully across a picturesque, midnight-blue sky. For a moment, he just observed them.

On one hill surface, it was all coated in brilliant yellow and white petals. Yellow carnations, baby’s breath, chamomile, daisies, honeysuckle, white hyacinth, white roses. A beautiful cloud, light shining through each split where the sun kissed the feathery vapor.

Another swath of blue flowers lined another hill. Hydrangeas, irises, delphiniums, hyacinth, and morning glories. As Pure Vanilla heaved a relaxed sigh, inhaling the sweet scent of the floral arrangements around him, he noticed but a single flower at his feet.

A forget-me-not.

The rest of the flowers in the field burnt up, despite there being no fire present. They simply crumbled on their own, squeezing into themselves and turning into blackened char. The sweet smell of pollen and nectar and the midnight stars was replaced by the acrid stench of strawberry jam and burnt leaves. Ah. This must be a dream.

"Y'know, my silly little Vanilly, this has been in your cards for a loooong time coming," came a playful voice, an idle teasing to it, as if it were a conversation between old friends. Pure Vanilla didn’t bother to turn around towards it. In a way, it was really a reunion of sorts. “Have you missed me?”

Pure Vanilla stayed staring, fixedly, almost mechanically, at the single, twinkling flower before him. He wouldn’t give Shadow Milk the satisfaction of seeing him look startled, or even seeing his face at all. “Not in the slightest,” he replied with a sigh, the forget-me-not dancing in the painfully burnt nighttime air.

Hands wrapped around his eyes.

He resisted the urge to immediately elbow the foe behind him, or thrash out of the (admittedly gentle— why was it so gentle?) grasp of Shadow Milk, but he steadied his will, staying perfectly still. A warmth, a slow embrace, spread across his back as Shadow Milk pulled himself flush with the back of Pure Vanilla’s robes.

“Vannilly…” Shadow Milk cooed in a drawn-out tone. “If you want to look at anything ever again, look at me. You know that I can hear what you’re thinking. You can’t ignore me forever!”

Pure Vanilla sucked in a breath. He knew reading cookie’s minds wasn’t impossible— he himself could do it if he tried. Yet, he wasn’t sure if Shadow Milk truly knew how, if he was bluffing, or if you even could read one’s mind inside of a dream.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to risk it.

“That power is not yours, beast.” Pure Vanilla didn’t utter another word, keeping his lips drawn tightly together. Shadow Milk simply wouldn’t earn it from him, no matter how much he toyed with him.

When the ravaged flower field disintegrated around him, and reformed into a chapel, and Shadow Milk vanished from his back to reform in front of him, Pure Vanilla felt almost let-down, as ridiculous of a notion that it was, that Shadow Milk hadn’t tried harder to make him speak. Two rows of pews lined the rectangular room, highlighted by the beautiful moonlight coalescing through the windows. It streamed through blue, stained-glass windows— no doubt, they bore imagery of the wielder of the Light of Deceit.

Pure Vanilla felt a tightness about his limbs, and suddenly he noticed tendrils creeping around the floor, darkness forming and deforming vague shapes of tentacles as they wove between the pews. As he glanced towards the throne, between his bangs, there was a beast hovering above him, a sadistic grin twisting his cutesy, mis-matched features into a mockery of a cookie's face. Shadow Milk cookie, a tyrannical creature born of lies and falsehoods. There were many ways to end a dream, so Pure Vanilla quickly shuffled through his options, mentally. He didn’t want to even give this creature a chance to speak more. There was a war to fight, and it needn’t be distracted with silly things like dreams.

"Now, quit it with that look. We all know you can't do anything to escape from this dream, now! Stupid 'Nilla!" Shadow Milk cackled, as if he really could hear Pure Vanilla’s thoughts, and sure enough, more mysterious darkness rose from the floor, binding Pure Vanilla by the ankles. They slithered up Pure Vanilla’s slender legs, tracing his figure, wriggling across each inch of his dough. "Hey, didn’t you say you were going to protect everyone? That you didn’t have things like nightmares? You're the worst liar of us all. Which is why I'm going to take my Soul Jam back from you, Vanilly.”

Pure Vanilla glowered at this foe. He may have a point-- Pure Vanilla was not always the most truthful, as much as his jam implied it. Yet, every time he lied, it was in the name of justice. In the name of keeping the peace, and ruling over what he needed to protect. So, that was different. It certainly wasn't the shameful secret that Shadow Milk was making it out to be. If it was leveraged against him, though... he wasn't sure what he'd do. He just had to escape the dream before it got to that point.

Then, of course, in his moment of distraction, Shadow Milk took it as an excuse to approach Vanilla, looking down on him as the tendrils suddenly squeezed around his dough, crumbling the surface ever-so-imperceptibly. It burned. There was truly nowhere he could go, as far as his eyes could see, no way to fight against this darkness— he was caged in like a feral animal, and felt merely inches away from being provoked to fight like one.

Shadow Milk stepped towards the altar, finally lowering himself to standing height instead of floating. The porcelain tiles hissed as his feet touched them. With a gentle motion, he ascended the half-stairs, and settled atop the marble altartop. With one hand, he beckoned to Pure Vanilla, and he was dragged forward and onto his knees by the shadows binding his legs. Shadow Milk gazed down at him, cooing softly as one might to a stray animal. Pure Vanilla resisted the urge to growl at him in response.

"Don't worry, silly. This won't hurt a bit, okay? I'm gonna warm your jam up... bet no one's ever done that before, hmm, tightwad? Ahaha!" Shadow Milk cackled, and slowly rolled his sleeve a bit further back up his arm. His forearm was littered in hundreds of tiny scars that Pure Vanilla elected to ignore. This psychopath's sob story was worthless to him; he had probably just gotten into fights, or ran through brambles in boredom.

It was just as meaningless as the rest of his deceitful actions.

The shadows yanked Pure Vanilla upwards, suspending him off the floor by their grasp on him, and giving his knees an air-borne surface to rest upon. Being pulled forward so that his chest was level with Shadow Milk’s knees, he glanced up at the beast who held him in place. “Oh, my. Now that’s a sexy face on you, Vanilly. You look so angry…! What, going to crumble me with your teeth?” Shadow Milk offered with a smirk that only surfaced more and more suggestions in Pure Vanilla’s mind.

Shadow Milk’s hand found the side of his face, and it cupped his cheek. Without missing a beat, and keeping eye-contact with Shadow Milk, Pure Vanilla parted his lips and put his mouth around Shadow Milk’s hand, as if to bite it open. If this went as planned, Shadow Milk would surely become distracted and lose his grip on Pure Vanilla’s dream. What he didn’t expect, somehow, was the look of sheer masochistic elation that crossed Shadow Milk’s features, like a cloud crossing over the path of the sun and darkening a summer day.

“Does that feel good?” Vanilla asked in utter disbelief, whispering the words across Shadow Milk’s dough, far more sensually than intended, as he fixed him with a stare. “Ah, you’ve always been strange…” he continued, “but truly, I could never have expected to what degree.” He just had to keep throwing Shadow Milk off of his game. Then, he’d be able to slip away.

Then, unexpectedly Shadow Milk brought his other hand (not the one cupping his cheek) up to Pure Vanilla’s upper chest, and began to toy with his Soul Jam, grazing his finger crossed it’s blue surface. It was an overwhelming sensation, causing him to cry out— ah, why was that so sensitive? Vanilla knew they were connected to their senses, as his own had flickered when he was in pain, but he didn't expect it to literally feel like his soul was being stroked along the edge by Shadow Milk, a wanton noise peeling itself from his lips. It was a tightness and blossoming in his chest, all while Shadow Milk's multi-colored eyes, on his face and on his body, seemed to be watching the faces he was making with curiosity raptly.

Pure Vanilla did try to reign in his expression, concealing his faint noises of surprise by biting his lower lip. It was made vastly more difficult by the fact that his legs were restrained and he couldn't simply run from this.

Normally, the moment before the villain could enact their awful plan, a hero would come bursting into the room, and save the hostage just as it started to look hopeless. Well, it seemed futile to resist, to Pure Vanilla, and there was yet to be another cookie within sight. No, it was all those piercing, mis-matched eyes.

Mis-matched eyes that were gobbling up eyefuls of Pure Vanilla's pathetic condition greedily, lustfully. "I just love how this looks on you," Shadow Milk whispered, sultry, to the distressed monarch before him. It was a new thrill to have this brilliant leader finally subjugated before him, finally brought (literally) to his knees by Shadow Milk's plans. It's not as if he couldn't have potentially seen it coming, but there were so many possibilities for losing or capturing Pure Vanilla every day that Shadow Milk cookie had simply taken to ignoring them.

He stroked along the edge of the Soul Jam with one pallid blue hand, the other halfway covering the flustered face of Pure Vanilla.

"Shall I keep going?" Shadow Milk offered with nothing short of a insane grin, just feeling the waves of pleasure rolling off of his body from just the blonde’s expressions. Yet, that grin was just the sort of thing that would perfectly throw Pure Vanilla off his game. "Seems like you're plenty ready for the warm-up, needy-Nilly.”

"Don't do this," Pure Vanilla said, eyes furrowing— though, it just looked like he was relaxing into the pleasure even more, "I'm not going to do whatever you want." Oh? Shadow Milk smelled a Class A lie around those words, like curdled milk atop an otherwise perfect latte. All it took was a little teasing to bring out the deceitful side of the blonde, and Shadow Milk had yet to tell even a single lie. Frankly, he knew which one of them deserved the Soul Jam more, based on that.

Teasingly slow, Shadow Milk reached a blue hand deep into the jam on Pure Vanilla’s chest, sinking into its substance like a cushion; the tone of his dough and the surface of the soul were the same color, as if they were always meant to be put together this way. He slowly pushed in, first inching in his fingers, then his palms, and then the beginnings of his wrist. It pulsated around him— it wasn't meant to be touched like this, but nevertheless, it burned in a way that was both painful and pleasing. It seemed almost to him as if he had stuck his arm into a pocket dimension somehow contained within Pure Vanilla's body. He would’ve been curious as to how it felt, if he hadn't tried such a thing with his half of the jam. And by his own experiences, he knew exactly how overwhelming it was.

“How’s that…? You know, this is why you’re mine. Without me, you wouldn’t be able to feel this way. Without my Soul Jam on your body, you’d never have known this pleasure,” he cooed, leaning down to speak into Pure Vanilla’s ear as he slowly began to swirl his hand and the tips of his fingers around inside of Pure Vanilla.

Pure Vanilla suppressed a strangled moan at the intrusive feeling, immediately attempting to further cover his mouth with one of his own hands. Not that it lasted long, with one of Shadow Milk's tendrils quickly ripping it away, but an effort had been made to at least save himself part of the humiliation. "Please..." Pure Vanilla whispered, not being quite sure what he was begging for, other than that Shadow Milk was sure not to provide it, if he asked.

Shadow Milk made a satisfied grin and hum as Pure Vanilla's mouth was re-uncovered, wriggling his fingers inside the goopy substance of the jam until Pure Vanilla couldn't help but moan out again. It felt like someone had reached directly into his chest and was playing harp with his bare nerves; too overwhelming to form words, but still amazing.

"Oh, wow!" Shadow Milk giggled, tensing his fingers to squeeze the surface of the Soul Jam's glistening tension. "I can feel it, pulsing. It wants us to do this, doesn't it? Just think of how powerful we'll be together, Nilly..."

Pure Vanilla full-body shuddered at the nickname, feeling a familiar, aroused tingle in his back from the jester's rough voice; somehow, that managed to be almost more intimate than Shadow Milk's fingers inside of his soul. "It's too— too much," he finally managed, squirming away from Shadow Milk.

That's when it happened: Shadow Milk curled his hands through the jam, grabbing it like a handle from the inside, and yanking Pure Vanilla forward by it. The utterly debauched sound that fell from Pure Vanilla's mouth was both a shriek of pain and a guttural cry of pleasure: he wasn't sure which part was more earnest. "No running away, now! We've only just started, Vailly!"

With that, he pulled Pure Vanilla up against him into his lap, still holding him by the inside of his jam. This time, Pure Vanilla managed to keep it at a controlled yelp, but it did nothing to diminish the lustful burning he felt in every inch of his dough. He saw his Soul Jam faintly flicker with burnt out light— he was suffering, and he couldn't help but feel as though his perverse pleasure derived from it was a betrayal of everything his Light stood for, everything that he and the others like White Lily had fought for.

Just as he made the thought, Shadow Milk tsked aloud. “Don’t think of her. I can see it on your pathetic face— she doesn’t own you, I do. She wouldn’t make you feel like this, right…?” he asked, relaxing his grip on Pure Vanilla’s jam and returning to stroking it gently from the inside. It felt like stepping into a hot room on a cold, winter’s afternoon— it tingled all over Vanilla’s body, causing him to emit a soft squeak as the feeling bubbled up into every square inch of his vanilla dough.

"Now that you're up here..." Shadow murmured into Pure Vanilla's ear, pulling him closer to his chest. Vanilla couldn’t help but smell the faint aroma of blueberries on his skin. He managed to grasp onto Shadow Milk’s shoulder, bracing himself through his panic at being pulled, and steadying his pleasure. "Let's try something, okay? This'll feel even better than just my hands," Shadow Milk promised, and then their Soul Jams gently touched together as he pulled Pure Vanilla up closer into him, engaging him in a sloppy kiss.

Pure Vanilla could suddenly feel everything in Shadow Milk’s body and nothing in his own all at once. He was somehow two sets of lips, locked in an embrace that smeared frosting lewdly across faces, he was the future, he was the past, he was Blueberry Milk and he was being torn apart in luxurious torment and lust.

After either all of time, or just a second, Shadow Milk shoved him away with a sudden gasp, multichrome eyes going wide. His face was brushed in a dark blue flush, giving him a healthy looking bake, for once. He panted, licking his blue lips, causing Pure Vanilla's smudged off-white frosting to smear slightly across them both. "Woah there, Vanilla! Getting ahead of yourself!" Shadow Milk chuckled, his eyes slightly too wide for it to really come across as a properly controlling order. Had he really not predicted what this would do? Had Shadow Milk truly been unable to predict how this would feel?

That, or he was simply more sensitive than Pure Vanilla. When was the last time Shadow Milk had touched another cookie, dough-to-dough, after all?

Shadow Milk was overwhelmed. When he had touched his own half of the Jam, it hadn’t felt even half that intense. No, that was a splash of cold water, and this was a dunk in the ocean. Oh, God, he felt so one with Pure Vanilla. What had he been thinking? He needed… Vanilla to become him, not the other way around…!

Pure Vanilla's grasp on Shadow’s shoulders tightened, sensing his weakness like blood in the water. "Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't this what you forced me to do?" Pure Vanilla spoke forcefully, his voice carrying more venom than he ever let it have. Vanilla was purity, he was a figure of angelicness, forgiveness. Yet, now that he had felt what it was like to be him, he had a taste of being like Shadow Milk, feeling how Shadow Milk felt; a lingering flavor of blueberry and strawberry jam on his tongue.

He found he liked it.

He found it was the bit of Deceit inside of him, that sort of sadistic joy he found at Shadow Milk's startled expression, the nervous twitch to his pupils as they raked over Pure Vanilla's body. Glancing down to where Shadow Milk's eyes were fixed, he saw that his Soul Jam was... slightly melted, in appearance. Bits of it dripped loosely in comparison to its typically crystalline appearance, and Shadow Milk eyed it with trepidation, yet enthusiasm.

"Again," Pure Vanilla found his voice demanding, despite originally being the one who disagreed with this whole arrangement. Surely, it was the pieces of Shadow Milk's Soul Jam that were simply combining with his own. They were extended body parts, nervous systems— as if a second brain purely to use magic existed in the beasts and the ancient heroes.

After all, this was just a dream. Pure Vanilla could do whatever he wanted with this blue freak; he had given up on escaping. He’d have fun until Shadow Milk had enough and ended the dream. It was his domain, after all— it’s not like Vanilla could do anything that Shadow Milk couldn’t escape from at his very own will. Besides, when was the last time that Pure Vanilla was allowed to have fun?

With a sudden lean forward, Pure Vanilla caught the dough of Shadow Milk's neck in his mouth, dragging their Soul Jams into another gooey connection. Devouring him, tasting the faint flavor of blueberries and darkness and sweet, fresh milk, on his dough. It made a frankly lewd sound, and Pure Vanilla could feel himself losing his purity yet again, slipping into the body and mind of the insane man before him as if it were his fine Sunday clothes. A gratuitous moan rippled from Shadow Milk's lips. "Oh, Vanilla..." he managed, trying again to pull back from their embrace.

No, that wouldn't do. Pure Vanilla ran his hand up the back of Shadow Milk's head, feeling emboldened by the Light of Deceit that was flowing through him, the contradicting nature of the powers within him. He grabbed a fistful of Shadow Milk's hair, and gave it a harsh tug as he bit down more harshly on his neck. The resulting sound was something Pure Vanilla wished he could hear for the rest of his life. A debauched shriek, rough in the quality of the jester's voice, of his own name. "N-Nilla...!"

Pure Vanilla paused for just a moment, teeth in Shadow’s dough, paralyzed by the intoxication of lust. With that, he was giving Shadow Milk another chance to struggle against him, but it was futile in earnest. Shadow was only doing it for the fun of it: both of them knew he could run whenever he wanted. Two-toned eyes gazed up at Vanilla in all of their sex and pain-tinged glory. "No running away. We're just getting started." Shadow Milk’s expression grew even more lustfully destroyed with the idea of Vanilla echoing his words, his earnest expression, with just the faintest hint of a smile on his blue-smudged lips.

☆°•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~●°☆

OKAY BYE THATS ALL THANK YOU

Gasoline Cookie OUT !! (feel free to send me requests in asks!)

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